even if his divinity status had been self-proclaimed, the sandwarper took on his new role seriously. a higher being looking down at his devoted follower, feeding his unhealthy passion with light physical contact⸻ fingers brushing through dark hair, tracing his lips, grazing shoulders… touching any inch of uncovered skin they could reach while maintaining a near perfect vertical stance. head was thrown back as the hand closed around his length, but only a contained noise was dragged out of him. a melodic hum drifted from his throat, a way to signal his approval without a weak whimper or animalistic groan. the illusion must be maintained for the entirety of the ceremony. gaze cast down on the kneeling man, holding his chin up, holding eye contact in silent contemplation. he saw the lust, the adoration, the desperation, the face of the man he hoped to wake up next to every day. ❝ i expect nothing less of you. ❞
what followed was less ritualistic, in the traditional sense at least. while the faith shep was raised on deemed carnal union as an immoral and sinful act, dune embraced it. demanded it, even, as a sign of commitment. the total rejection of his old life and acceptance of a new, supreme and divine idol.
lips curled as the puppeteer leaned in and swiped his tongue, eyes shining with delight and lust. fingers tightened in his hair in an impulsive reflex, followed by a whimper. ❝ no one compares to you. ❞ the willingness to prove himself was unmatched. maestro was a performer, every action deliberate, all part of a grand show. dune's eyes fixated on every detail, registering every motion as if it were the last time. because the truth was that it could be. especially after changing their alignment. so why bother containing themselves? deny what both desperately needed. ❝ you want this cock. don't you, m? ❞ a hand closed around his throat, pressing lightly. ❝ you’re exactly where you were always meant to be. ❞ in that moment, it felt like there was nothing the universe could throw at them that they couldn't overcome. nothing that couldn't be improved as long as they were together. united as one. body, soul and mind.
the room was filled with sounds of wet, rhythmic strokes. dune's fingers tangled deeper into the devotee’s dark curls, though he made no attempt to control shep’s movements, just stood there and accepted the offering, moaning praises occasionally, feeding his approval in small doses, making him work for it. if one should be saying how thankful they were, it should've been dune. but the sand manipulator didn't express any gratitude; instead, he held maestro's chin forcefully and whispered ‘ you earned it. ’, right before rubbing the tip of his cock over his lips.
❝ keep your eyes on me ❞ it was a demand, not a request. eyes locked as shep's mouth claimed each inch, engraving the image in his brain before his vision started to blur around the edges. hips bucked into his pretty lips in small, measured thrusts, matching his pace. dune let maestro take the lead, letting him feast on his cock as he pleased. at least at first. his other hand reached to grab his hair, holding him in place as he fucked into his mouth with increasing savage urgency. he responded to each vibration around his cock with groans and a faster pace, occasionally giving his lover time to catch some air, right before shoving himself back into his mouth. each moment that passed was a testament of will. dune could feel himself losing control of his body, inching closer to an orgasm. as much as he wanted to feel that high, he wasn't ready to give up the warmth of shep's throat. cock pulsed against the skillful tongue, a heat taking over him. he warned the puppeteer, but didn't stop moving into his mouth until the first spurt hit the back of his throat. each burst was followed by incomprehensible gasps, head thrown back until he reached his final offering.
❝ you will always have me. ❞ he promised, leaning down to claim his lips in a messy kiss, hand reaching for his untouched cock. a reward for his faithfulness. fast, intense strokes, with no purpose other than his release. moments later, after he sucked his fingers clean of every drop of cum, the sandbender pressed a final kiss to the puppeteer and got himself up, noticing the clock on the wall. ❝ the only thing that works around this place. it’s getting late, and i need a shower. you're free to join me. ❞ words he would later regret as he was getting fucked against the cold wall. but as far as he's concerned, great fucking way to start the day.