From the Edge of the Deep Green Sea
The confessional was dim. Small and almost cramped. A little alcove for those to bid their sins, and pray repentance. Pray for the touch of salvation.
Aegon found his between Aemond’s knees.
Word Count: 1.4K
Aegond - Priest AU- Priest Aemond- PWP - Oral (M recieving) - Canoodling in the confessional- Violent imagery - Targcest - Not beta read.
Read on AO3.
Aegon never knew when to stop. When to stop drinking. When to stop fucking. When to stop pushing and prodding and poking.
Aegon thought that he, himself, was not an addict. He just was addicted. One of anything would never be enough. Whether it be a jest, a drink, a woman, or something as simple as a laugh. He was a simple beast. One taste- one good taste and he’d scarf down the same meal over and over again like a hound.
The best taste was Aemond.
His annoyance was intoxicating.
He didn’t know when it exactly started. Perhaps when Aemond grew a head taller than him and he’d feel an ache in his neck anytime their conversations went on too long. Perhaps it was when they were children- when Aem always wore that little scowl. An eternally kicked puppy that Aegon reveled in pushing to the dirt. Perhaps even before then- when he was a toddler waddling into his mother’s birthing chambers and he heard Aemond’s cries for the first time.
Something about Aemond had a vice grip on him. It wouldn’t let go. Insufferable and gnawing.
***
It was no surprise when Aemond became a priest. Aemond was poised- a righteous twat, in Aegon’s humble opinion. That long, silver hair trailing down his black robes. High collars and draped fabric. The man was in his element.
Aegon was never one for church. Even as a child it never really wrapped around his brain. Like a nail and a hammer that always missed. But, it was his first time back in Oldtown in years. With him having gone off to the crownlands after college and losing himself in the hot, summer nights.
The silver-haired man sat in the back pew. One arm draped over the back of the wood. Ankle resting on his opposite thigh. Clad in a pair of dark trousers and a baggy hoodie with a bleach stain on the pocket. Completely uninterested as the senior priest gave his sermon.
He wasn’t here for him, after all.
***
There were things about priesthood that Aemond enjoyed. Communion was not one of them. Sure, he was fine with it most of the time. Most people were normal. Most people took the cracker and the little cup of wine and went back to their seats. But there were always a few people. Those few fucking people that opened their mouths. That expected Aemond to reach into their soggy maws and place the cracker atop their tongue. It was just gross. Demeaning for both of them.
So, as he stood at the front of the dais to hand out communion, he was pleasantly surprised. One row of pews after another filing up and actually being normal people. In fact, he almost got to the end of it without having one person open their god damn mouth.
Then, he saw a flutter of silver. A mess of untamed, grungy waves.
Aegon.
He wanted to throw the entire plate of crackers at him with the strength of a bull. Made only worse when the greaseball actually trotted up to him. Leaning forward with his arms knitted behind his back. Lips parted and twitching, pink tongue on display. That knowing, poking glint in his violet eyes.
Aemond was going to throw him through the stained glass windows. Slammed full force. Watch as Aegon was left littered with shards of blue, red, and green.
However, first, his thumb slipped past Aegon’s lips. The skin just brushing as he pressed the cracker to Aegon’s tongue. But it did not end there. Aegon wrapped his lips around Aemond’s digits before he could pull away. They were warm. They were unholy. Aemond wanted to pry them open and fill them with fire.
Instead, he almost jolted his arm back. It did nothing to deter the impish sinner, however, as Aegon simply grinned and turned. Taking a cup of the communion wine between his thick fingers on the way.
It took all of Aemond’s strength to not lunge at him as soon as he turned his back.
***
Once the service was finished, Aegon went out to the side of the building to smoke. Hidden from sight as he watched, beneath two stained glass windows, as the parking lot slowly emptied. Those who stayed behind for confession slowly filing out. Running off in their Corvettes and BMWs. A bunch of old money, that’s what the reach was. Old, old money.
When the final car pulled away, Aegon flicked his cigarette. Letting the little streak of simmering embers arch and disappear into the grey dusk.
He slipped back in through the front door. The sounds of sneakers against wood echoing in the empty hall. It was bigger on the inside than it looked on the out. A great, echoing building of white and oak. The greens and blues that once reflected off the polish disappearing as the sun went down. An autumn chill running along the walls outside. A scratching itch raking down Aegon’s stomach. His violet eyes meeting Aemond’s single, amethyst one as he left the confessional.
“Have time for one more?”
***
The confessional was dim. Small and almost cramped. A little alcove for those to bid their sins, and pray repentance. Pray for the touch of salvation.
Aegon found his between Aemond’s knees. His body knelt, head pushed down my the priest’s long, slender fingers. The other hand pressed to the oak. Aemond’s head strained back. His chest rising and falling with every breath. Jaw clenched and eyes squeezed shut. Staving off breathy groans and low moans as his cock sunk into the heat of Aegon’s mouth. Soft, sinful velvet wrapped around every inch.
Aegon’s hands bunched in the black fabric of Aemond’s robes. Knuckles just grazing against his hips. He was like a snake in the birds nest. Slithering and consuming. Taking all he can get and still begging for more. The man’s nose brushing against Aemond’s stomach. His throat constricting around the head. Yet it was not enough. Never enough. Aegon wanted him deeper. He wanted everything. He wanted Aemond to fill him until all of his body was burrowed out and left hollow. He wanted to break Aemond’s bones and suck out the marrow.
A low growl rumbled in Aemond’s chest. His hips picking off the bench to bump against Aegon’s face. Forcing him to take more. Forcing him to choke around his cock. His nails digging into Aegon’s silver locks and scrape against the scalp. A ripe, dripping apple he wanted to demolish. Tear apart until the very fibers were unrecognizable. He wanted to see him cry. He wanted to see him bleed. Aemond wanted to see Aegon sob as his cum ran down his throat.
Aegon’s digits left Aemond’s robes. Slowly spanning out over the dark, rich oak of the bench. His head cocking to the side, tongue running along the vein on the bottom of Aemond’s cock. Relishing in the twitch that he received in turn. In the barely-muffled groan that spilt down Aemond’s chin from his lips. Swirling down Aegon’s mind straight between his legs.
When he came, it was like a holy flood. The back of Aemond’s fist bit between his teeth. His eyes stinging as if he was about to cry. Aegon took it all. His greedy, gluttonous lips wrapped around the base. His throat open and so, so willing. Devouring. The humid and heavy air of the confessional drowning the both of them.
***
Light had bled from the day. The world washed in blue and grey. Once beautiful, masterpieces of glass now dark masses of nothing in the night.
Aemond stood beneath them, a cigarette perched between his lips. He had tried to quit too many times to count. Nothing ever worked. Not the carrot sticks or the straw. No cheap imitation could ever give him his fix. He was a picky man. He had tried- oh, had he tried.
Nothing ever beat the true itch.
Aegon stumbled out of the church, wiping sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand. Aemond had tried to push him away after the first round. Even knocked his head into the wall of the confessional in the attempt.
However, the kicked sound Aegon gave drove him mad. He’d pushed him up, then. Forced the man to stand with his back to the wall as he returned the favor. Watched as Aegon squirmed and whined like a bitch as he sucked him off.
Now, the two stood perched beneath the eyes of the holy dimmed in the twilight. Blind to Aegon raising his own stick to Aemond’s. The burning embers setting his alight. The smoke twisting in the air above in dark coils. No gods there to bare witness. Just two lowly sinners beneath navy blue skies. Two restless, insatiable eaters doused in their own sweat and filth.
