#grantthread

[pantheeons]

@divinesons

Grant was never really a close follower of Greek myth, but if he had to predict which God would be cosmically assigned to him, it would've been Hephaestus. God of craftsmen. He did, of course, identify as a carpenter by trade. He worked with his hands. He made things. Why wouldn't be be a child of Hephaestus. But the pantheon —Demeter specifically, apparently— had other plans.

Maybe it was that part of himself he saw in Raphael and identified with. Or maybe he had a sixth sense for fellow men in denial about their sexuality. Raphael said he wasn't gay, and Grant believed him. He wasn't gay either. You didn't need to be gay to jerk off other men, particularly ones you felt bonded to. Mutual handies weren't gay.

Raphael's cock was bigger than Grant would've expected, given the younger man's diminutive size. (Grant towered over him, which made for a visual gag.) Small, but arguably more muscular and toned than Grant himself. They were a study in contrast. And in delusion.

"You close—?" Grant asks, panting for breath as his hand jerked Raphael off with increasing fervor. "Fuck, that feels—"

[pantheeons]

— open to: anyone idfk

Grant hadn't been there very long, and while he considered himself amiable enough to make friends, something felt a little... off. Not with him, or the place itself, but him. It sort of felt like something shifted with all this godly energy surrounding him, making him reconsider things he previously thought to be true about himself. Maybe that's what it was. The excuse he needed to keep himself at a distance from his new cohort.

(The amateur porn star, of all people, feeling uncomfortable around people. Irony.)

But he knew he needed to put himself out there. The others started to recognize him more and more the longer he stayed, so introductions became increasingly unneeded, which did help things. So there he stood on the outskirts of whatever number party this week it was, feeling the warm night air on his skin as it condensed on his exposed, lightly hairy chest under his unbuttoned shirt, hoping tonight he would make some true friends finally. Or at least a friend. One would be nice...

"Like your shirt," he says to someone passing by, wondering if they even heard him, or if he even wanted them to hear him.

"...Like your shirt?" C'mon, Grant, where did your social skills go...

[pantheeons]

@skyyybreaker

Grant felt pretty confident in thinking he had absolutely nothing in common with Nicholas and his privileged, rich boy upbringing. He came from a modest home and attained similar means in adulthood; it was the reason why he took on OnlyFans as a side hustle. But despite their lack of similarity, the man did seem easy to talk to. Maybe it was the difference itself that drew Grant to him.

"Can I ask you a question?" Grant asks, both of their feet submerged in one of the place's many lakes. "Are rich kids like you literally born with silver spoons in your mouths or is that just a joke?" His tone seems serious, but he can barely contain a smirk as it forms on his face.

[pantheeons]

@nocturnalscns

The good thing about being surrounded by people with different kinds of powers was having need for their services, whatever they were. In Grant's case, his semen —which he never knew to be true until recently— possessed healing properties. Useful, sure, but not the most practical skill to have.

Especially since he identified as straight, which, well... a lot of the people here did not.

But Godot's skill of sleep-making definitely helped him out a ton. He'd always been a light sleeper and unable to fall easily, so meeting Godot was a boon. And even though he didn't consider himself queer in any way, the man did have an aura about him. A masculinity Grant felt drawn to... but not in a gay, way of course. Even if his tendency to wake with morning wood put that into question. Like it did in the present moment.

He presumed Godot nodded off not much longer after Grant, hence why they were both there. Awkward, but not unbearably so.

"You know how it is—" Grant smirks, adjusting his junk under his boxers, which could barely contain the girthy beast within. "Haven't gotten off in so long, fuck—"

[pantheeons]

@illbeyouridle

In hindsight, it probably wasn't so surprising for a so-called daredevil like Eddie to want a go with Grant's thick cock, which he'd become renowned for among certain circles on the internet. (Girls, gays, and sexually confused "straight" men who convinced themselves their interest was as a power fantasy and nothing to do with Grant himself.) He was just surprised he allowed his body to be used to plainly like that... but then again, nothing seemed out of the realm of possibility since Grant got here.

And admittedly, he did want to see Eddie attempt to deep throat every last centimeter of his near-ten incher.

He had to give Eddie credit: he was really going for it, and that deserved praise. "Fuck, you're really good at that," chuckles Grant, patting the younger man's head. "Watch out, you'll choke—"

[pantheeons]

@olympicvalor

Of all the people he met here, Grant's fellow children of Demeter were the easiest to relate to, even if their personalities and lifestyles varied from one to the other. Ozzy followed after their goddess a little more literally as an environmentalist, while Grant, well...

In some ways his chosen handle of "breedmachine" proved to be cosmically apt, now understanding himself to be a child of the goddess of (among other things) fertility. Ozzy served her by trying to help the physical Earth. Grant served her by —theoretically— laying his seed among it.

Which they were both currently doing now, even if Grant couldn't actually get Ozzy pregnant. But then again, with everything he'd learned since coming here, maybe he should've been a little more concerned to not be wearing protection.

This wasn't "gay," by the way. Just classic fraternal bonding like the Gods they worshipped would've approved of.

As ever, his thrusts were long, hard, and deep — he didn't earn the title of "breedmachine" for nothin. (Well, it was self-given, but regardless.) No words spoken, because Grant had a goal in mind. Work-driven as always. Well, mostly no words spoken—

"You're so tight, fuck—" he groans in disbelief. Were all guys like this? Maybe he wasn't actually... no, none of that thinking. More fucking.

[pantheeons]

@heroicfolklores

Demeter would approved of his, Grant thinks to himself as he jerks off in front of TK, pretending the other is merely but one of his many adoring fans who would've been doing this very same activity, albeit less personally. Fraternal bonding was so important. Even a philistine of Greek mythology like Grant knew this. So... yeah. That was his excuse.

And he was good at it too, making his dick seem long, thick, and desirable. Something about showing off to someone like this —someone not even naked themselves— fueled his exhibitionist streak he didn't know he had until a few years ago. Turns out he liked being admired for the girth blessed to him.

Maybe it was Demeter's doing. Giving him such a big goddamn cock full of spunk to fulfill the "fertility" part of her domain.

"You just gonna watch?" chuckles Grant, still stroking. "At least get yourself off too, man. No harm in enjoying yourself with me..."

[pantheeons]

@ofloveandstardust: 🫦 Bite the receiver's lower lip before kissing them fiercely.

Grant wasn't surprised to learn Mateo was such a good kisser. People with lips like those were made for using them. Kissing, biting, sucking... basically anything that involved two sweaty, naked people getting each other off. Their clothes weren't even fully off yet, but Grant had a feeling he might not be able to control himself before his underwear came off.

"Fuck, take it easy," he chuckles, pulling away from the other, but only slightly. "Gonna need to save that energy for when I'm, well, inside you— if that's what you want, I mean."