Edible Fun

for Kinktober2023 by Annika Sage Ellis

contains: CNC, weed sex, vaginal penetration/PIV sex, finger sucking, cis/trans, demon/angel

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

---

After spending so much time living with Pride, very few things worried Justice anymore. He’d become slowly desensitized to the bulk of his eccentricities, from the late hours he came home, to the catastrophic mess of his room, to the unholy abominations he called “food”, Justice could now tell the difference between a normal quirk and a true cause for concern.

Still, there was nothing quite like walking into the kitchen on a sunny afternoon to find Pride hovering over a single gummy edible on a cutting board, and gripping a very large knife.

“What,” Justice asked, before he could decide if he wanted an answer, “are you doing?”

“This is my last one,” Pride explained. He crouched down to be eye-level with the counter. “I have to make it count until I see Ollie again.”

“With a chef’s knife?”

“Listen, I’m trying to be precise.”

Justice put his hands up in surrender, moving past him to get to the fridge. “Why can’t you just buy more?”

“I’m not allowed in the store she goes to anymore.”

“Is it because you sto—”

Pride huffed. “Yeah, it’s because I stole some shit.”

Justice swallowed a snicker, pouring himself a glass of juice. He’d never be able to convince Pride that stealing from everywhere wasn’t a smart idea, but at least he only suffered miniscule consequences from it so far.

He watched Pride bend over the cutting board, knife hovering in the air. Slowly, he brought it down over the gummy, tilting it at a slight angle. The blade cut at the very center, slicing easily through the middle to create two perfect halves. It was the most caution Justice had seen him take with anything.

“Bravo,” he said.

Pride put his hands on his hips, satisfied. “Thank you.”

He chomped down on one of the half-gummies, all his hard work—if it could be called that—paying off. Justice put the juice carton back in the fridge, and tried to take his leave.

“Oh, hey,” Pride said, lightly smacking his arm. “When this kicks in, you should come fuck me about it.”

Justice almost dropped his glass. “What?”

“You know, like, sex. It’ll take an hour for this to kick in, and when it does, you can take your dick and put it—”

“I know what sex is, Pride.” He put his drink down to prevent a tragedy. “I mean why?”

He shrugged. “It’s fun?”

“But you’ll be—impaired.”

“So?”

Justice dragged his hands over his face, not sure if the proposition or his own confusion made his head spin faster. He’d been around Pride when he was all manners of intoxicated—from drugs, alcohol, violence—and it never bothered him. They’d been drunk together before, and had their fair share of clumsy trysts. But a sexual situation where Justice was sober, and Pride wasn’t?

“I just—I don’t understand,” he admitted. “You can’t say yes.”

“I can right now,” Pride said. He laced his fingers behind Justice’s neck. “Sober me is telling you that I want to have sex when I’m high.”

“What if you change your mind?”

“I won’t!”

Justice gave him an incredulous look and he sighed.

“Alright,” he conceded. “If I’m obviously having a bad trip—like screaming, crying, pissing myself bad—maybe hold off. But that’s really the only ‘no’ situation I can think of.”

That was better, but Justice wasn’t wholly convinced. “Are you sure this is safe?”

“J, I’ve done this before. I like it, it’s fun.” Pride pinched his cheek affectionately. “I get suuuuper horny when I’m stoned.”

It wasn’t a lie. His already-weighty baseline needs for affection jumped impossibly high. In more than one situation, Justice had been subject to Pride crawling all over him for literally hours. He’d never taken it farther because it never occurred to him that it was something he would want. It made sense when he thought about it. Still, the surprise of such an out-of-nowhere request made him nervous.

“I’ll try,” Justice agreed.

Pride leapt up and planted a kiss on him. “Yay, love you, see you in an hour.”

Before he could swing away, Justice caught him by the wrist. “The next time you want to try this, can I get a warning beforehand?”

“This was my warning.”

“Pride.”

“Okay, fine. I’ll give you more of a heads up.”

Justice let him go. “Thank you.”

Pride skipped down the hall to his room, shutting the door behind him. Justice watched him go, fond but tired. They needed a better system of negotiation than this.

But that was a problem for another time. Justice picked up his glass of juice and wandered off to waste an hour.

 

 

Standing outside Pride’s bedroom door an hour later, Justice was no more confident about this course of action than before. Not only because of the spontaneity, but because he was clearly being positioned as the “actor” in this arrangement. He was far more practiced at being the one acted upon.

He and Pride had switched positions, of course, but the dynamic stayed very similar. Pride wanted something, he took it, and Justice was happy to give. This was dizzyingly different—what Pride wanted was for Justice to do the taking. How was he supposed to… do that?

Justice felt ridiculous for being so anxious, and that his nerves were entirely warranted. But no matter what, he promised he would try. So he took a breath, gripped the door handle, and turned.

“Pride?” he called, pushing the door open slowly.

His room was, as usual, a mess. The door got caught on a bundle of discarded clothes, forcing him to squeeze in. The window blinds were half open, casting a grayish light from the outside world. On the bed, Pride slouched on his pillows, scrolling through his phone. He didn’t seem to notice Justice had entered.

“How are you feeling?” he tried again.

This time, Pride turned to him before he finished the sentence, a familiar glassy-eyed stare. A very slow grin spread across his face. “Heyyy, Justice!”

“Hi, it’s me.”

Pride tossed his phone aside and clumsily sat up, bouncing on the mattress with his arms outstretched. Justice couldn’t help but smile, giving him a warm hug.

“Hi, Jus’ice,” Pride mumbled into his chest. “Hi, hi, hi.”

“Yes, hi to you too,” Justice said, petting his hair.

He giggled, nuzzling deeper. Thanks to being on half his usual dose, he was a bit more mobile than Justice was used to seeing. It eased a bit of his worries—he wasn’t sure he would have been able to “make a move” on a Pride that could barely move his limbs.

“What were you doing?” Justice asked, awkwardly trying to make conversation.

“Umm,” Pride said. He flopped onto his back. “I dunno. Lookin’.”

He sat next to him on the bed. “Looking at what?”

Pride rolled over, slapped his phone back into his hand, and returned. It was already on, displaying the home screen and an array of different apps. He swept to the next page, a different page of apps. A third page of apps. Then he swept backwards through the different pages, and repeated it all again. He seemed transfixed by this.

“Okay,” Justice acknowledged. How was he supposed to do this? “Can I sit with you?”

“Yeah!” Pride cheered, attempting to drag him down by the arm. “Sit, sit, sit, sit.”

He scooted onto the bed all the way, put an arm around Pride’s shoulders, and pulled him close. Pride, in turn, threw limp arms and a leg around him, snuggling as close as he could. He looked up at Justice, dim smile and all.

“Yay,” he said.

Justice chuckled at him. Whatever he thought about this idea, he couldn’t deny that Pride was fun to hang out with when he was high. He smiled, laughed, and made a fool of himself with giddy carelessness. And Justice would always accept an extra hug or three.

“Mm, warm,” Pride mumbled. “You’re warm.”

“Thank you,” Justice said.

“You’re warm because you’re nice.”

“I don’t think that’s quite how it works.”

“Pfft. I know everything.” In spite of his dismissal, he nuzzled into Justice’s chest. “I’m right always.”

It was easier not to argue. “I’ll take your word for it, then.”

Pride nodded, satisfied. Justice squeezed him a little, and he squirmed around happily. He smiled, admiring how sweet he was. A thought lingered in the back of his mind that maybe this idea wouldn’t be so difficult after all.

“Can I take your hair out?” Justice asked.

Pride made a face. “Ow. That would suck.”

“N-no, I meant this.” He indicated the ponytail, sticking up on the back of his head.

“Ohhh.” Pride fumbled his hands up to his head. “I think my hair will be okay if you did that.”

“If it falls out, I’ll glue it back on.”

“Can I have yours instead?”

“Uh, no, sorry. I like my hair.”

He grumbled, but released his hair from the elastic anyway. He tossed the band into the endless sea of discarded things on the floor. Justice was not motivated enough to go get it.

“I like your hair,” he told Pride, running his fingers through the loose tresses.

“I like… touches.”

Justice couldn’t help laughing. “I know.”

Pride grinned against him, curling his toes. Justice combed his hair back, scraping gently against his scalp. The blond roots at his hairline faded quickly into the inky darkness of the rest of it, gliding over his fingers in silky waves. One of his pale ears peeked through the curtain, lobe and cartilage studded with piercings. Justice traced around them, one by one.

The journey led him to Pride’s face, loose and relaxed. He wandered over the angled planes of his sandy complexion. He made a figure-eight around the barbell in his left eyebrow, tracing the shape of it. He traveled down the steep bridge of his nose to tap his septum. Justice explored everything, from his cheeks to his jaw to his scraggly goatee. Pride might not have been everyone’s taste, but Justice had no trouble believing he was the most beautiful person of all of God’s creations.

And then Pride bit him.

Justice yelped as a sharp pain met his fingers—all of them, as Pride chomped down on his loving hand. He tried to yank it away, but Pride grabbed it, gnawing on his fingers like a dog with a bone.

“Pride—ow—what are you doing?” Justice demanded, more baffled than angry.

He stopped chewing. Fingers still halfway between his teeth, Pride gazed up at him with eyes that were positively mournful. He didn’t offer an explanation.

Justice burst out laughing. Pride perked up, opening his mouth enough that Justice could take his hand back, which he then used to pull Pride up into a kiss. He melted into it the moment their lips touched, and Justice was the one to push his tongue inside first. It was a reversal of their norm that surprised and exhilarated him at once.

Pride made weak grabs at his shirt, small whimpers leaking from between their lips. Justice took the hint. He broke the kiss—in spite of a noisy protest—flipped Pride into his back, and peeled his shirt off. Pride breathed hotly, raking his eyes down his body, but Justice didn’t give him long to admire before kissing him again.

It felt more natural than he expected. He kissed Pride into the pillow, stripped their clothes off piece by piece, touched Pride everywhere he knew he liked to be touched. And even in his state, Pride asked for things, whether they were coherent or not. It was another version of Justice giving Pride what he wanted. And he knew what the next step was.

Both of them naked and panting, Justice gave Pride one last kiss before reaching onto the nightstand. He knew by now where Pride kept the lube, and found it within seconds. Pride already had his legs spread wide, whining. Justice felt his cock throb at every sound he made, and was suddenly relieved that he knew this was okay. Lube in hand, he sat back between Pride’s parted legs, making himself a little dizzy in the process.

Pride flushed a bright pink in his cheeks down his neck. His hairy chest rose and fell deeply, shiny barbells in his nipples winking in the sunlight. The hair narrowed to a thick happy trail and fanned out at his crotch, where between his bush Justice saw his cunt already leaking.

“Ready?” Justice asked, slicking up his cock.

“Yeahplease,” Pride slurred.

Taking a shaky breath, Justice lined himself up, and sank in.

It had been so long since he’d been inside Pride, it punched all the air from his lungs. He had to stop halfway to breathe, shocked by the warmth and wetness encasing his cock. Pride must have been experiencing something similar, face twisted up in an erotic daze, compounded by his intoxication.

“Feels good,” Justice gasped, on instinct. “You feel—so good.”

He nodded fervently, bucking his hips for more. Justice couldn’t do anything but oblige, sinking deeper inside him and moaning for it. Pride shuddered with a whine of his own.

Justice moaned again before he managed his first thrust, but when he did push himself in for the second time, it was pure bliss. He started a second before he realized it, rocking in and out of Pride in a smooth, slow tempo. The velvet feeling of his cunt made him groan and sigh, sending him into a high of his own.

Below him, Pride keened. He already had his mouth open wide, gasping at the slightest movement. Justice bent low to kiss him, cupping the back of his neck to make it as deep as possible. Pride could barely return it, limp with pleasure. A string of drool connected their lips when they parted.

Justice kept his thrusts slow and deep, barely able to handle it himself, but he wanted to give Pride something more. Wanted to give him as much as he could. A strange idea came to mind, but he was already trying something new today.

When Pride opened his mouth wide to moan, Justice pushed a finger inside. He crossed his eyes trying to look at it, confused, but when he closed his mouth, his eyes rolled back into his skull. Amazed, Justice felt Pride suck and lick his finger desperately, even open his mouth for more. On his next thrust, he added a second, and Pride moaned desperately.

It was such a strange sensation for Justice, encased on both sides by a smooth, warm sensation, one for his pleasure, and one for Pride. He thrusted his fingers at the same time he thrusted his hips, and Pride choked. He stretched his legs obscenely wide, sucking hard on his fingers when they were in his mouth, and panting for them the second they left.

Justice shuddered head to toe, watching Pride act so desperate for him. He propped one leg up on his shoulder and deepened his thrusts. He moaned loudly, hitting harder than he meant to, and Pride arched off the bed. Swallowing hard, Justice decided he would go a bit faster.

So out of practice, his faster thrusts were sloppy and uncoordinated, but neither of them cared. Pride bucked, whimpered, and sucked his fingers hard, as if it were the most erotic thing he’d ever done. Justice couldn’t even make a sound, lost in his cunt and getting deeper by the second, completely overcome with passion.

His gut tightened and he knew he was close. Justice popped his fingers out of Pride’s mouth and rubbed his clit with them. His protests were short lived, dissolving into incoherent cries, heavy with lust. Justice fisted his other hand in the sheets, breath getting short.

Justice came on a deep thrust, gasping as he spilled into Pride. He put his head down, fighting for the coordination to keep his hand moving. Luckily, he wasn’t fighting for long. Pride moaned into his ear and his cunt clamped down around Justice’s cock, contractions drawing his orgasm out longer.

When he could breathe properly again, Justice took a moment to feel the exquisite warmth in his body, the lightness in his mind. He lifted himself up to look at Pride, drool smeared across his cheeks, eyes even more dazed than when he was just high.

“I did it,” Justice told him, and didn’t get a response. He didn’t expect one, either. He’d let Pride tell him how he did when he was sober.

---

Tips are appreciated!