by K. L. Hiers
THE AWKWARDNESS of trying to explain to a little dead boy the meaning behind that particular phrase was something Ted would not soon forget. Between Grell’s poor attempts to stifle his cackling and Graham’s gasping disgust when all was revealed, Ted wasn’t sure if he could recall a more embarrassing moment.
Once that mystery had been solved for young Graham, they all got settled back down to keep watching television. Ted didn’t mean to, but he was soon dozing off before the next episode rolled on. His sleep was a bit restless, his mind buzzing over the other big mystery that was still unsolved.
Who really killed Visseract?
He was positive that it wasn’t a suicide, but he didn’t know what else to do. Grell clearly wanted to put this behind them and move on, and they were all out of options, suspects, and evidence. Unless Kunst had managed to find something of use in the library, the case was going to be closed.
He couldn’t really blame Grell for not wanting to fight a god or go start a big war, but this didn’t feel like justice at all.
What was the whole point of seeing Silas’s visions? Was there something else Ted was supposed to have seen? What had he missed? Was there more to this Kindress thing and the tears?
He didn’t know, and his sleep didn’t bring any answers.
When Ted woke up, he was still snuggled in Grell’s arms, but he didn’t sense Graham. He lifted his head, looked around for a moment, and smiled when Grell’s hand slid down to his butt.
Grell’s eyes were still closed, but he was smiling.
“Are you pretending to be asleep?” Ted asked playfully.
Grell’s hand squeezed down.
“Hey!” Ted laughed, wiggling and smacking at Grell’s arm. “Wake up!”
“Huh? Hmm?” Grell opened his eyes, looking around in mock confusion. “What’s happening?”
“You being a giant perv,” Ted said with a snicker.
“Me?” Grell blinked innocently while giving Ted’s ass another thorough grope. “Never.”
“Mmm, good morning to you too. Or afternoon. Evening? Whatever.” Ted grinned as they kissed, leisurely tangling their bodies back together. He could feel Grell’s cocks grinding against his own, making him gasp softly.
“Is the little one around?” Grell asked urgently.
“Graham? No, I don’t think so.”
“Good,” Grell said, rolling Ted onto his back with a wicked grin. “Because I know exactly what I want for breakfast, and it is not child-appropriate.”
“Breakfast?” Ted scoffed, groaning as Grell spread his legs. “Thought we were gonna have dinner?”
“I just woke up. Therefore, this is now breakfast,” Grell informed him with a wink, slinking down Ted’s thick body and leaving little bites and kisses in his wake.
Ted relaxed against the pillows, watching Grell pet and tease his way toward his cock. He groaned as Grell’s hot mouth took him down in one swift thrust, and he arched his back when his amazing tongue spiraled around his shaft. “Ah… fuck…. Thiazi….”
Grell started to suck, his hands greedily stroking Ted’s thighs. He moaned quietly, clearly enjoying himself as he absolutely devoured every inch of Ted’s cock.
“Ah, mmm, fuck,” Ted panted, his hips shakily rising up. He threw one of his legs up on Grell’s shoulder, groaning when Grell grabbed his ass and pulled him closer, encouraging him to move.
Ted braced himself against the headboard, thrusting up into Grell’s mouth. He started off slow, moaning as Grell’s tongue twisted around his cock and squeezed. He was soon moving faster, fucking Grell’s throat and grunting loudly.
Grell took it all, his fingers digging into Ted’s ass as he growled hungrily.
“Thiazi!” Ted was already so close, and he was unable to resist Grell’s oral finesse for another second. He felt his orgasm down in his very core, his hips jerking forward as he came hard. “God, yes! Yesss, fuck!”
The added suction of Grell swallowing it all down made Ted shiver, his legs limp as Grell continued to ravage him with his tongue and lips. His climax continued to pulse until he was trembling all over, gasping brokenly, “Oh f-fuck….”
Grell pulled off with a noisy slurp, running his tongue over Ted’s cock one last time as he declared, “Ah, delicious.”
“Yeah…?” Ted grinned dopily. “You’re welcome to it any fuckin’ time you want.”
“Mmm, I’ll remember you said that,” Grell teased, crawling back up over Ted to claim a fierce kiss.
Ted loved how Grell held him, and the sensation of his weight pinning him against the bed was so good. He let himself be pliant, relaxed, and wrapped his legs around Grell’s waist with a happy sigh.
“We’re not getting up for dinner, are we?” Ted asked, biting his lower lip when Grell’s hard cocks grazed his hip.
“That depends on what you’re hungry for,” Grell teased, playfully nipping at Ted’s jaw.
“Mmmph, fuck.” Ted slid his fingers through Grell’s hair, groaning as he started getting hard again. He couldn’t explain the warmth overtaking him, but it had to be from Grell’s magical touch.
“Maybe something… meaty?” Grell wagged his brows salaciously.
“Yeah.” Ted grinned, giving Grell’s hair a little tug. “Definitely thick and meaty.”
Grell snickered, kissing Ted firmly as he lined himself up. “Oh, you just hold on, love. I’ve got just the thing.”
The head of Grell’s cock was right there, so very close to where Ted wanted him, and he could feel himself getting wet, fuck, and Grell was just about to slip inside—
“Your Highness!” an all-too-familiar voice called out.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” Grell turned his head to snarl at Mozzie. “What the fuck is so fucking important that you decided to just come barging in? Huh? Did somebody else die?”
“Uh, n-no, Your Highness,” Mozzie stammered.
“Did anything explode?”
“No, Your Highness.”
“Have my people decided to rise up and dethrone me?”
“No, Your Highness!”
“Then fuck off!” Grell roared furiously.
“But, but, but…!” Mozzie cowered, trembling as he tried to explain, “Your occult advisor is insisting on seeing you! He says he has urgent news about the case, Your Highness!”
“My what now?” Grell scowled.
“You have an occult advisor?” Ted asked, scrubbing a hand across his face.
“Apparently I do,” Grell scoffed in surprise. He narrowed his eyes at the guard, demanding, “And who is my occult advisor exactly?”
“Uh, uh, it’s uh, Professor Emil Kunst,” Mozzie said nervously. “He said, he said you left him in charge of wrapping up the investigation, and he’s been working out of the library?”
“What in the actual fuck?” Ted burst out laughing.
“That undead little shit,” Grell mumbled.
“He said he needs to see you at once, Your Highness,” Mozzie said, backing away quickly. “So sorry to have disturbed you, so very sorry—”
“Just go,” Grell groaned angrily.
“Right away, Your Highness!” Mozzie vanished as fast as he could.
Whining loudly, Grell flopped down on top of Ted. “Oh, does anyone in the whole universe suffer as I do?”
“Poor baby,” Ted soothed, rubbing Grell’s back and laughing. “I know, I know. It’s so hard being king all the time, huh?”
“It really is!” Grell chirped, lifting his head to smooch Ted’s lips. “Hmmph. I suppose the mood has been lost now, eh?”
“Not entirely,” Ted said, grinning slyly and rolling his hips up against Grell’s. “Still pretty hungry, if you catch my drift.”
“Oh, you delicious little minx,” Grell purred happily. “Just lay back and relax, love. I’ll make sure to leave you very, very satisfied.”
And satisfied Ted was, two more times before they finally decided to get out of bed and face the world. Grell took Ted out into the pools to clea
n up and dressed them both in fresh clothes afterward.
“You know, I’m still looking forward to takin’ both those bad boys of yours when we ain’t being rushed,” Ted teased, adjusting his new jeans with a smirk.
“Oh, it will be my pleasure,” Grell assured him, “and well worth the wait.”
“We ready to go see your new occult advisor?”
“I’m positively dripping with excitement,” Grell drawled. “This will be the absolute last time I ever do anything nice for a damn ghost.”
A snap of Grell’s fingers took them to the library, and Ted almost didn’t recognize it. There were books and papers strewn everywhere, texts left in haphazard stacks all over the floor, and scrolls unrolled over the chairs.
Grell’s fury was palpable, and Ted quickly called out, “Hey, uh, Kunst? What the fuck happened in here?”
“About time you two showed up!” Kunst snapped, his orb floating out from between the shelves and hovering before them.
“What in the fucking fuck did you do to my library?” Grell snarled.
“Since you two have been busy doing whatever it is you’ve been doing,” Kunst huffed, “I’ve been hard at work!”
“Didn’t you hear?” Ted snorted. “The case is closed. Visseract offed himself after killing Mire and Silas.”
“Oh, please,” Kunst sneered. “Don’t insult my intelligence. Neither of you believe that awful setup, do you?”
“And how do you know it was a setup?”
“As the newly appointed royal occult advisor, I had the guards take me to the crime scene before the body was removed,” Kunst said proudly.
“You’re really something else, aren’t you?” Grell was trying not to look impressed. “Didn’t happen to mention to them that you appointed yourself?”
“Look,” Kunst said urgently, “now that we’re all on the same page, there is something you must know. The broken vials? I believe I have identified the substance within.”
“And?” Grell grunted.
“I believe those vials held Great Azaethoth’s Tears,” Kunst said triumphantly, his orb flickering brightly.
“Whoopie-do!” Grell threw his hands up in frustration. “We already figured that!”
“But, ah, who were they for?”
“Huh?” Ted stared. “What do you mean?”
“Three vials,” Kunst replied. “For three conspirators, yes? One was for Thulogian Silas to buy her silence, and one was for Humble Visseract, who we already know was actively working with Gronoch.”
“Right,” Ted confirmed. “So?”
“There’s a third,” Kunst said impatiently. “Who is the third vial for?”
Ted and Grell exchanged the same confused stare.
“There’s a third person still out there!” Kunst snapped. “Someone else was working with Visseract and Gronoch! Gronoch wouldn’t have any reason to keep a vial of tears around if he already had access to the source, much less shatter it so wastefully.”
“But then who would?” Ted countered. “Why go to all the trouble of getting the damn tears just to smash ’em up like that? Kinda seems like a big ‘fuck you’ if the tears are as powerful as you guys are saying.”
“Yes, their magic is great, but they’re nothing but a rat turd in a sandstorm compared to the power they could extort from the Kindress,” Grell pointed out. “Tears can’t resurrect someone, but the Kindress could.”
“Silas wanted the tears to make the Kindress bring back Mire,” Ted recalled. “Visseract probably wanted a never-ending supply of fish food or one of those little pirate chests that has the bobbing lid or something.”
“While this is very fascinating,” Grell drawled, “we’re left with more questions than answers.”
“True,” Kunst admitted, “but it does indicate a third suspect that we’ve yet to identify!”
“Enough of this,” Grell growled. “As soon as the clock strikes midnight, the trial is starting. As far as I’m concerned, this case is closed. I’ve already buried my dead and cut my losses. It’s over.”
“But Your Highness—”
“I’m king, and I said it’s done!” Grell warned.
“Look, Kunst,” Ted said quickly, trying to intervene, “just let it go. All this shit with Gronoch could start a war, okay? You get that, don’t you?”
“Yes!” Kunst hissed stubbornly. “And I’m trying to prevent a war on Aeon! Do you have any idea what will happen if Gronoch is successful?”
“He’ll… do some weird stuff… with bones?”
“He wants to wake Salgumel!” Kunst barked. “The God of Dreams and Sleep! The one whose cults have all gone mad for centuries trying to wake him because he’s gone absolutely insane in the dreaming! Gronoch is following right in Tollmathan’s footsteps. I guarantee it!”
“And that’s… bad?” Ted said slowly.
“Very bad!” Kunst lurched his orb forward and bopped Ted in the forehead.
“Quit that or it’s back down to the pits with you!” Grell scolded, smacking Kunst’s orb back. “Now listen here! Whatever the gods are planning, my son is on it.”
“The prince?” Kunst spat.
“Yes, I know, he’s a little prick,” Grell huffed, “but his visions are never wrong. He’s our trump card. Whatever Gronoch is planning is not going to work without ol’ what’s his name—”
“Jay,” Ted said.
“Right! Him!” Grell brushed off his hands and shrugged. “Nothing to worry about as long as my boy keeps an eye on Jay.”
“Who the hell is Jay?” Kunst demanded.
“Silenced boy, gonna keep him safe to save the world or something,” Grell explained quickly. “All very complicated.”
“My roommate,” Ted explained. “Apparently, if anything happens to him, the world is gonna end.”
“And he’s Silenced?” Kunst suddenly flew away and nudged an old scroll toward them. “It all makes sense!”
“What does?”
“What I overheard!” Kunst said impatiently. “It’s not Silenced souls that Gronoch is after! He wants living bodies!” His orb flickered. “That’s why the bridge is so dim! Something is keeping Silenced souls from passing to Xenon! Some sort of stasis to make them into weapons, and he needs the bones for it!”
“But why?” Ted groaned, getting frustrated. “Why does he need to astral projectile them or whatever?”
“I suppose that’s the million-dollar question,” Grell drawled. “How about we let Kunst here think on that for a while, and we’ll catch up later when he actually has something useful to share, eh?”
“I shall not give up, Your Highness!” Kunst declared. “I already have a theory, very sound, but perhaps if you or Ted could spare just a bit of time to assist me?”
“How about we go out for dinner?” Grell asked, taking Ted’s hand and kissing it sweetly.
“Go out?” Ted blushed. “Like, what, on another date?”
“Exactly so. We’re dating. People who are dating go out on dates!”
“This cannot seriously be happening right now,” Kunst whined in annoyance. “The fate of Aeon hangs in the balance, and you two are… are… hooking up?”
“Yup. Tell us your theory when it’s more than a theory. Can’t talk now, bye-bye,” Grell quipped, reaching up and tapping Kunst’s orb.
Kunst floated in circles, shook violently, but didn’t make a sound.
“What did you do?” Ted snorted with laughter.
“Hit his mute button,” Grell replied with a wink. “Now tell me, love. Where is one place in the world you’ve always wanted to go? Anywhere at all.”
“Uh.” Ted didn’t know what to say. He was embarrassed that his tastes might seem too pedestrian, but there was only one place that came to mind. “There’s this restaurant called the Angus Barn right outside of Archersville that’s really nice? Steaks as big as your fuckin’ head.”
“A steakhouse?” Grell wrinkled his nose. “I offer you the world… and you want to go to a damn
steakhouse? Are there crushed peanut shells on the floor?”
“Hey, I’ve always wanted to go,” Ted said, blushing and crossing his arms stubbornly. “Look, it probably seems stupid to a king and all your fuckin’ fancy stuff—”
“If that’s what you want,” Grell soothed, “then that’s what you shall have.”
“Really?” Ted glowered.
“I was just surprised.”
“You’re such a snobby douche, you know that?”
“I’m well aware, but I adore you, and I want you to be happy,” Grell insisted, hugging Ted’s waist and pulling him close. “That’s what matters most, love.”
“Thank you,” Ted said, slowly unfolding his arms and draping them over Grell’s shoulders. “That means a lot to me, actually.”
Kunst’s orb bounced up and down on the floor by their feet, trying to get their attention.
Grell kicked him across the room and, without missing a beat, asked politely, “Shall we?”
“Shit, is he okay?”
“He’s fine. He’s dead. Ready?”
“Yes,” Ted replied, trying not to snicker too loudly. “I’m fuckin’ ready.”
Grell kissed him with a greedy little chuckle.
Ted heard a snap, and when he pulled back, he was sitting across from Grell at a candlelit table in the wine cellar of the Angus Barn. The walls were pale brick and lined with hundreds of bottles, the lights dim, and there was a roaring fireplace beside them.
“Holy fuck.” Ted looked all around in awe. “We’re in the wine cellar. This, this is their exclusive private dining room! Like, there’s a waiting list to get down here!”
“Fuck the list,” Grell said proudly, waving for a waiter to start pouring them each a glass of wine. “Nothing’s too good for my boo.”
“Thank you,” Ted said, grinning from ear to ear. “I’m sure there are many laws against abusing magic like this—”
“Pffft.”
“—and it’s downright romantic that you did this for me.” Ted raised his glass in a toast. “To you, King Thiazi Grell desu Etcetera.”
“Thank you, Tedward Whatever Your Name Was,” Grell replied, clicking his glass lightly to Ted’s, “for making this old king very, very happy.”
Sipping his wine, Ted felt his cheeks warm up, and it wasn’t from the alcohol.