Dreamy Deluge

for Kinktober2023 by Annika Sage Ellis

contains: CNC, fingering, vaginal penetration/PIV sex, cis/trans, angel/demon

dysphoria warning: Pride is a trans man whose genitals are described with the following terms: clit, folds, cunt, hole. Please use discretion if these words will trigger any dysphoria.

---

Justice flinched awake at the sound of thunder. A deep roar shook the sky above, and he listened as it faded to a soft growl. Blinking away sleep, his room was the same dingy gray it had been when he fell asleep. Outside, the raindrops made a compelling argument to stay in bed, pattering their suggestions on the window glass.

Groggy, he sat up, nightcap drooping across his shoulder, and took a peek through the blinds. Rain came down in sheets, blurring his view of the city. Dark clouds trekked over the sky, with no end in sight. Lightning flashed in the distance, and thunder struck a second later. Justice soaked it up, in gentle awe of the world.

The only thing that was louder than the thunder was the snoring. Unmoved by the turmoil outside, Pride slept on, curled up at his side. Justice shuffled back down under the covers, content to stay in bed a little bit longer, and snuggled closer.

With his back to Justice, Pride’s side rose and fell in a deep rhythm. Each exhale a deep breath, and each inhale a rival thunderstorm. Justice smiled, brushing back the inky waves of his loose hair. He quietly traced the curve of his shoulder, little hairs parting for his fingers. A dense carpet, the hair covered his arms and the nape of his neck, until it reached his shoulder blades. It mottled his upper back in unstable patches, and stopped growing entirely when it met his scars.

Two massive, jagged wounds of millennia ago clung to his back like patterns of lightning. The centers burned an angry red, darkening to a muddy brown at the edges. They puffed off his back, lumpy abrasions that looked taut to the touch, but Justice never had. Pride didn’t like them touched—didn’t like acknowledging them at all if he could help it. Justice couldn’t blame him. Imagining how awful it must have been to have his wings cut out was enough to make him sick. The memory of it would no doubt have been horrible beyond description.

Justice dipped his head and kissed his shoulder, stroking a hand down his side. No matter what happened to Pride in the past, Justice was determined to make sure he never went through anything like it again.

Pride didn’t move, oblivious to his thoughts. Justice kept tracing his body, smoothing a hand from his shoulder to his hip, memorizing the shape under his hand. As usual, Pride slept completely bare, warm and soft to the touch. Here and there, he dipped a little off his side to smooth over his ribs or trace his hipbone. He passed through the thick happy trail on his stomach, twisting his fingers through it. He sighed through his nose, carefully drawing his hand back to rest over Pride’s waist.

On a lazy, rainy morning, spending the day in bed with Pride was the best option, in Justice’s mind. However, that meant very different things depending on if, for example, Pride was naked and Justice… liked that. And liked touching him. And could touch him anywhere if he wanted.

He screwed up his mouth and shut his eyes. The last time Justice had teased him about sleeping in so late, Pride made some very heavy-handed “jokes” about waking up to an orgasm. And then, in case he hadn’t gotten the message, told Justice very plainly that if he had the opportunity to fuck him awake, it was more than welcome. And now that conversation taunted him, dangling temptation on a stick over his head.

 As shy as he tended to be, Justice did want Pride, very much, in a lot of ways. It wasn’t a secret that he thought Pride was attractive, and that he was perfectly happy being the object of desire most of the time. But he did wish he could be a bit more forward. To be the one to initiate, even a few times. This would be the perfect opportunity. Pride already said he’d like it, so…

Justice scooted closer, chest-to-back against him. With all the care in the world, he pushed Pride’s top leg up. That was as far as he got before he had to stop, ichor thumping in his ears. Laying there, trying to work up the courage to continue, Justice felt something against his leg. Rather, he felt nothing because Pride was dry. He need to supply the lubrication himself.

He rolled out of bed to grab the lube. Nothing had changed when he slipped back under the covers, but his breath shortened. Justice gripped the bottle in his hand. He was doing this.

The click of the cap cracked like the thunder outside. Justice drizzled two fingers with it, and set it on the nightstand. He inched his hand down to where he parted his legs. Rain slapped against the window. Pride kept snoring away.

Justice pushed his slick fingers through the folds of his cunt, stopping to press against his clit. Pride’s snores stuttered and he froze, staring wide-eyed at the back of his head. All he did was mutter something incoherent and start snoring again. Justice swallowed hard.

Slowly, he moved his fingers in circles, rubbing against his clit with soft motions. He moved the little bud around and around, trying to please Pride like usual, but he couldn’t tell if he was doing well. It was strange not to see or hear a reaction—usually Pride was all over the map, vocal and expressive at the slightest touch. This time, all he did was snort and shift in his sleep.

Soon, Justice heard gentle, wet slaps under his fingers, folds dampening from the attention. He slid through the new wetness, using it as a supplement to his own lube. He bent down to kiss his shoulder too, compelled by habit and affection.

Pride interrupted his own snores with a groggy hum. He snuggled deeper into his pillow and continued sleeping, but Justice caught his breath. Instead of backing off, he went faster, rubbing his clit in tighter circles. The thrill of that tiny, sleepy reaction sent a flush through his body he didn’t expect. His gut jumped, excited where he used to be wary. It made him wonder—how far could he get before Pride woke up?

Justice took a shaky breath. He slicked through Pride’s wetness again, this time gliding over his hole, and teasing him with the end of his finger. His cunt was warm and soft, and it almost made him whimper, so easily imaging how it would feel inside. Pride gushed from his tease, even in his sleep. Justice slid back up his folds to rub his clit urgently, clenching his jaw to keep himself quiet.

The rain made a perfect backdrop, falling against the windows as fast as his caresses. Thunder rumbled in the distance, farther away than before. Justice startled—he could hear the rain.

Pride had stopped snoring. Where he’d once been his own thunderstorm, he had his mouth open against the pillow, quietly panting and whining. He was still asleep, evidenced by his low volume, but Justice shuddered. He was doing this to Pride, making him flinch and hum in his sleep. His fingers, moving fast over his clit, bringing him to his edge, made him whimper.

Justice had been hard for some time, but now his cock throbbed. His breath shook when he exhaled. He soaked in the soft, breathy noises of the sleeping Pride, and each one made him flick his clit faster. Did he know what Justice was doing? Was he dreaming about it? Would he stay asleep the whole time, coming over his fingers without even realizing?

His hips twitched suddenly. Pride clenched his fist in the sheets, and gasped a long, loud moan, far too loud for someone who was asleep. Justice felt the gush of his orgasm at the same time, rubbing firmly through the waves.

“Fuck,” Pride breathed, definitely awake now.

Justice retracted his hand, giddy. “Good morning,” he murmured, and kissed his shoulder.

He twisted around, eyes groggy from sleep and an orgasm. That didn’t stop him from yanking Justice by the arm, dragging him over until Pride was on his knees, face pushed into his pillow, and Justice was behind him on all fours.

“More,” Pride groaned.

“More?”

He just whined, pushing back against his hips. Justice fumbled to the nightstand for the lube, half-shocked and half-unsurprised that the first thing that Pride would want after waking up to an orgasm would be another orgasm.

Justice pushed his pants down and his cock sprung out, already leaking. He slicked himself up, and an impatient Pride spread his knees even wider. Soothing him the only way that would work, Justice lined up and sank inside him. He released all the air in his lungs, leaning over as he pushed in, until he was pressed into Pride’s neck. Pride sighed deeply, muffled by the pillow.

Justice stayed inside him for a long moment, overtaken by the velvet warmth of his cunt. The rain rushed down the windows. The morning was gray and slow. Thunder struck again, even quieter. Justice laced his fingers through the backs of Pride’s hands, holding him as close as he could.

“How did you sleep?” he asked, and made his first, lazy thrust.

Pride laughed as he gasped, taking it with ease. “Good,” he sighed. “Slept good.”

“Did you have dreams?”

“I—mmmh—I had a couple.”

Justice kissed his neck, pushing into him again. “Me too.”

“What were y-yours about?”

“I remember—I was on an orchard.” He struggled to remember through the hot, wet softness encasing his cock. “One where they let anyone come and t-take the fruit. And all the trees were really, really huge. I had to fly up to p-pick anything.”

“That’s nice.”

“Yeah. You were there too.”

Pride hummed into the pillow. “You were in mine too.”

Justice thrusted again, squeezing his hands. “What was it about?”

“W-we—fuck, keep doing that.” He repeated the move, and Pride moaned, thrusting back into his hips. “Yeah, yes.”

“What did we do?”

“Mmgh, we—we went to the beach.”

“That sounds lovely.”

“Y-yeah, but part way through.” He laughed breathlessly. “You started fucking me.”

So he did dream about it. Justice buried his face in his neck, thrusting a bit harder than he meant to. “Mhm?”

Pride giggled some more. “At a concert.”

“Wh-what?”

“There was a band playing on the beach. You st-started fucking me in the crowd.”

Justice laughed too, hips stuttering. “Were people mad at us?”

Pride shook his head. “They wrote a song about it.”

“Was it a good song?”

“I don’t remember.” He pushed his hips back. “Th-that was when—I woke up.”

Justice breathed hotly into his neck. “Did you like it?”

“Yes,” Pride moaned, without hesitation. “Yes, it felt so good.”

That was all he needed to hear. Justice plunged into his cunt, spine crackling with heat. Pride slammed his hips back and muffled more noises into his pillow. He was so hot, so perfect around Justice, he couldn’t help but whine, driving his cock in harder and faster to chase the beautiful feeling.

Pride wiggled one of his hands out and reached down to try and rub himself. Justice caught him on the way, pushed his wrist to the side, and did it himself. It was even easier than when he was asleep, his clit and folds slippery with wetness. Pride mashed his face into the pillow, moaning, legs shaking.

Justice felt his own thighs start to quake. The harder he buried himself inside Pride, the more his head spun. The warmth in his body jumped to a fever, driving him to move faster and faster. Everything in his body tightened, squeezed by exquisite pleasure.

He choked on a moan and came. His mind blanked out in pure bliss, driving forward to bury his cock deep. Pride swore breathlessly when he did, voice shaking as much as his body. Justice spilled every drop inside him, body frozen in the throes of his orgasm.

When he came back down, Pride was already touching himself. Classically impatient, he slipped his fingers in beside Justice’s, furiously rubbing his clit. Before Justice could try to help, he came, contracting around the cock still inside him. While Pride moaned, Justice gasped, squeezed by pleasure all over again.

They breathed hard the in aftermath, limp and tangled in each other. The patter of the rain had slowed to a drizzle, tapping lightly against the glass. The sun started to bleed through the closed blinds, turning the gray room into a soft yellow.

“D’you want breakfast?” Justice mumbled.

“In a minute,” Pride muttered back.

It was another hour before they agreed to get out of bed.

---

Tips are appreciated!