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Stepping back into the shadows of his own bedroom, Gortash dimmed the oil lamp in his hand. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he was relieved to find a familiar shape camouflaged between his white linens, still stretched-out on the bed.
"Apologies for leaving you so abruptly. Turns out it was indeed a matter of urgency.” He walked over to the bed and placed the lamp on the nightstand. "But I promise that from now on, you have my full undivaded attention.”
There came no reply from the bed, beside the slow blink of half-lidden red eyes glowing in the dark.
Climbing back up the stairs from his quick issue of orders he wasn't entirely sure whether he would find the bedroom empty upon his return. The Dark Urge was a creature prone to taking offence. But there he was, a great scaly beast spread on his bed in his white-and-red bare glory, just as he had left him - laid at the edge of the mattress, bent legs spread, patiently waiting for them to proceed with their activities. It was intoxicating, to have him here like that and it tickled him greatly that he did not need chains or collars for him to give in - just a little teasing and a lot of patience.
Still, he put one knee on the mattress between The Dark Urge’s legs slowly and cautiously. But his reasonable caution was quickly abandoned when a white hand reached out and tugged his robe off. Freed of doubt and clothing, he put his hands back on a hard, cold body, kissed and caressed earlier into soft bedding, still so pliant in his hands; a predator barring his belly and throat for him. A throat that he invitingly exposed, tilting his white crown of horns back for kisses. The red there, delicate and tender, never ceased to surprise Gortash - both a fatal flaw in an otherwise perfect design and a great cause for pleasure for both of them.
He moved his lips slowly, diligently, from drumming pulsepoint to the edge of the hard shell of the breast scales. Then to the red of his underarms, surprisingly soft and surprisingly ticklish if you tease it the right way. From there, he made a journey down the hard, pearlescent scales, far less sensitive but no less deserving of care and worship. Below them, another plain of tender red, blushing groin and delicate insides of the thighs. He bent his head down to the left one, peppering little scales there with kisses from the joint of the knee to the juncture of thighs. Moving from one thigh to another, his fingers grazed the parted blue slit between them, glistening with moisture. The angled head of Durge's cock was just barely peeking out of it.
But it wasn't today's prize.
He pulled Durge's knees slightly more apart and nuzzled the trembling tendon in the muscular thigh.
“Thank you for your patience.” he whispered into it, his breath for a brief moment warming the cold flesh under his palms. With one hand still caressing his leg, the other, barred of rings and golden claws, wandered further, to the slick opening, meticulously prepared prior with oil and great care. It was met with a low moan and a show of teeth that only the most acquainted with Durge's body language could take as an invitation. Reassured, he lined himself with his entrance and slowly, slowly pushed into him. The Dark Urge grunted softly at the first gentle intrusion, and he could feel scaled abdomen tightening, his whole body turning tense.
“Is this all right?” Gortash froze and asked, his hand gently stroking his side.
“It's fine.” came an answer in a choked voice, but Gortash out of respect chose to pretend he did not notice the roughness at the edges of those two syllables. When finally he fully breached past the puckered ring of muscle, he paused to let him take a moment to get familiar with the still foreign feeling of fullness.
The Dark Urge was still new to this arrangement, adjusting to being the one laid on bed and ravished and lavished. At least with him - Gortash did not ask what did transpire in his bed at his temple, but he suspected he did not submit like that to his followers. And his less-alive conquests certainly could not provide him with such service.
It was not a bedroom configuration that his bhaalspawn preferred, but it took surprisingly little convincing when Gortash proposed some time ago an experimental swap of places in their usual routine. It made something in his chest swell, to be able to so easily sway Durge from his expected position and cater to his whims.
But in truth, to The Dark Urge submission might have been a more familiar setting - created to fulfill his father's will, subjection seemed a more natural state for him than for a full-bloodied banite. And it was not even about which one of them was to spread their legs for the other - Gortash in his life took plenty of cock while maintaining complete and utter control over his bed partner. And as much as he considered Durge his equal, it thrilled him to no end to have this beast of a man yearn to fall apart under his touch.
They both stilled, taking a moment of not moving, just being joined. He wanted to wait until Durge himself decided that he was ready to go further, and he did not have to stall long - a pull on his waist urged him to move. Gortash rocked into him slowly, carefully, taking in consideration his partner's inexperience. He suppressed the self-satisfied smile that threatened to bloom on his face - there under him was Bhaal's prized stallion, bred gently like a maiden on a wedding night. He briefly wondered if Father was watching, and if yes, if he was averting his blood-red eyes.
But as his moves grew bolder and the resistance of Durge's body faltered, Gortash noticed that the strained grimace on his face did not ease. Soft, pleased moans that escaped white lips at every roll of his hips made him understand that the source of his discomfort might lay in some place other than his unaccustomed to intrusion insides.
He took a slight offence that he was not the sole thing occupying The Dark Urge's thoughts at the moment.
He stilled his movements and grabbed at Durge's chin gently to focus his attention back on him. Red eyes, squinted in strain, opened and stared at him with slight confusion.
“Are you still with me? Your mind seems to be elsewhere.”
“Where else would I be?” Durge hastily answered in a defensive tone.
“A place of great burden, it seems. Tell me, my white dread, what troubles you?”
The Dark Urge just grumbled in response and rolled his hips, trying to resume their coupling, but got no real friction. Gortash, still buried deeply inside him, only hovered over in expectant silence.
“There are some… Unrests at the temple.” The Dark Urge finally spoke up, turning his head on the pillow and looking away from him, his red eyes distant. There was a long pause, which Gortash dared not to break, not wanting to discourage him. “My lieutenant hinted that I am losing my focus.”
They usually stayed out of their respective temple's internal affairs, but if the growing discord there spilled over into their own private time, he felt obliged to intervene.
This was time for pleasure, not business, but he could ease him in both ways.
“Nonsense. I hope you have disciplined her accordingly.”
“Of course.”
“Orin should know that you have merely changed your focus. I'd advise you to remind her that sometimes you have to stay your blade when there are bigger rewards in the future.”
“She complained about my increasing absence. I'm beginning to suspect she does not truly understand the gravity of our work.”
“Not to criticise your choice in selecting your right hard, but she does not seem like a person who can mentally grasp long-range plans.“
“She always was exceptional in our usual line of work. But the circumstances have changed. She has not.“
“So redirect her to tasks that she excels in. Maybe if you'd let her lead the prayers while you're gone doing more important things, she'd calm down a little.”
“Like you would let your subordinates lead your Dark Mass?”
“Never.” he hissed and punctuated it with a single hard thrust. It earned him a growl which he gleefully ignored. “But I can hardly blame them, any banite worth their salt should always have at the back of their head a plan to try to uproot their current leaders.”
“While still obeying them completely?”
“Yes.”
The Dark Urge scoffed.
Gortash grinned and nuzzled his throat. ”I don’t expect you to understand banite politics, nor should you. The doctrine of your faith operates under a completely different set of principles. I had to claw my position myself.” he told him and caressed his cold scaly cheek. “But you, my friend, are a son of a god and denying you your place at the top of the chain would be a downright blasphemy.”
“It would.” The Dark Urge agreed, still somewhat reluctantly. “But Orin’s unfounded claims come from a place of faith.”
“Direct her, scold her, praise her, and if that won't work, cull it before she’ll think herself important.”
“Suddenly you're an expert in sharing power?”
“I am an expert in motivating people to better themselves. Or to die, if they are a lost cause.”
“Any more good advice?” Irritated, Durge swayed his tail and lashed him lightly. Gortash just laughed and swatted it away.
“Not at the moment.”
With that, he kissed Durge’s still scrunched maw. It took some more kisses before his face began to relax.
“Now that I've taken some of the burden off your shoulders, are we ready to focus on why we're here?” he asked,
“We are.”
And like that, it was easy to put behind matters of the church and center their attention on the matters of the flesh. They quickly found a rhythm, as they always did, and in the matter of moments Gortash felt something warm and slick poking his stomach. He looked down to find Durge’s cock finally slithered out of its sheath, standing in attention and bouncing between them at every thrust. When Durge made a move to grab at it, Gortash struck down his hand.
“Leave it. You'll thank me later.”
Durge growled at him, but obeyed. Gortash couldn't let him just simply rub himself to completion and spoil all of his hard work. He needed to prove to him that this was worth his while. And he did.
When he hit the right spot, he could see all the thoughts - both troubling and pleasant ones - flying out The Dark Urge’s mind.
With maw open in pleasure, he arched his back off the bed, chasing each of Gortash’s own movements. Durge pulled him closer, cold palms splaying on his back and strong scaled legs moving from the edge of the bed to the back of Gortash's thighs, locking him in.
A steady flow of low, throaty moans coming from between sharp teeth filled the room. It was like music to Gortash's ears, but it still wasn't enough. Bracing hands on the bed, he pushed into him in harder, rougher strokes. Moans turned into grunts and hands grasping his back tightened, clawing him. He half groaned, half laughed, only roused by it more. But when tried to ease on the man panting under him, it was met with a loud whine of protest.
“You enjoy it, don't you?” Gortash whispered hotly into the place where Durge's shoulder and neck met, his thrusts pounding into him with a punishing force. “And here I was worried about the delicate constitution of your virginal innards. But fear not, if you wish, I will abandon all pretense of gentleness so tomorrow you'll still feel it, the ghost of the feeling of me inside you.”
The deep moan he heard was all the response he needed.
But a bit of internal tearing of godly flesh was not the only mark he fantasized to leave on him. He longed to leave something more permanent, a brand of the hold he had on him. And as The Dark Urge reached his peak, his body turning rigid as a flow of ecstasy trashed his senses and erupted with warm spend soiling both their stomachs, in Gortash's mind bloomed an idea of spoiling Bhaal's perfect creation with his own seed.
From what he knew, bhaalspawn were made not only to destroy, but also to reproduce. And his beautiful monster must have not been an exception. Though his form might cause some problems with that - he read all that was to read about dragonborn anatomy - but to his knowledge The Dark Urge was not exactly a dragonborn. His father already gave him a tail out of pure fancy. He could only wonder what other surprises might have he hidden within the divine flesh he sculpted.
But it was not the time for experimentation, not when they were so close to their goals. He didn't want to tempt fate. He pulled out of the slick confines of bhaalspawn's insides and stroked himself ferociously.
The Dark Urge, still dazed and exhausted, flashed his teeth at him and covering his hand with his own, joined his motions.
But when their grand plan comes to fruition? And if by some miracle due to extraordinary circumstances or just Bhaal's plain oversight The Dark Urge would one day lay an egg… their egg—
The thought, abominable and blasphemous and ecstatic, finally tipped him over the edge, making him add to the mess pearling on Durge's hard abdomen.
—Gortash would then treat himself to the most decadent breakfast he could ever have.