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A/N: well it took me a billion years but I did it. MORE GRIMBEK. like the description says, this is a sequel but basically all you need to know is that they boned once before this, and torbek came in his pants. as one does.
warning for emetophobia (at the very start then briefly mentioned again), uhhh i think that's it beside the usual "sorry for my torbek+gricko sins". ENJOY!
Torbek has never been what would typically be called “handsome”. Even before pounds of magical drugs were bolted into his very flesh, he’d typically been composed of more alcohol and vomit-stains than anything that could add up to “passable”, let alone attractive.
So he has no idea what it is about him that attracts Gricko to him, but whatever it is, he hopes it doesn’t stop catching the goblin’s interest any time soon. The entire thing already feels far, far too good to be true. He’s already starting to worry maybe he imagined their entire first encounter, but one night when they’re at an Inn again, Gricko wastes no time making up some terrible excuse to get the two of them a room together. Makes a filthy gesture at Torbek while he’s as it, despite the people nearby-- including Mr. Kremy, who makes one his faces. Torbek doesn’t really care, especially once they get up to the room and he feels a hand roaming through his tail.
“Want me to suck you off?”
Gricko is a lot of things. Subtle is not one of them.
Torbek makes a noise of interest-- because yes, of course he does, is water wet? Is the sky blue?-- but pauses as he looks down at Gricko. Looks all the way down the full four-something feet of distance between them, and all the physical limitations that entails. Physical limitations that probably include the goblin’s very...robust gag reflex.
Gricko has no psionics, but seems to read Torbek’s mind anyway: he only wiggles his eyebrows and smirks. Laughs off the unsaid concerns and says something about his old band days.
"You'll see. I'm an expert."
That had been about fifteen minutes ago, right before a long, gagging struggle from the goblin that had ended in tragedy. Sad, dinner-laden tragedy all over the floor (and not, Torbek had gratefully noted to himself, all over his cock. Always a silver lining). The retching sounds behind the bathroom door had ceased a little while ago, but Gricko was still not responding to him. Anxiety swirled in his gut; either he’d puked himself to death, or...
"Grickoooo," He tries again, idly scratching into the grooves of the wooden door. "Are you okaaaay?"
There is a very small sound of acknowledgment, then finally: "I-I'm fine, 'm all good now. It-- it's fine."
Torbek frowns. He definitely does NOT sound fine. It sounds like is that he's on the edge of a level 4 Grimgrin Freakout, at least. Which is exactly what Torbek was afraid of. Especially because he has no idea how to navigate this conversation: especially-especially with Gricko, who’s always been very sensitive about his size putting him at a disadvantage for certain things. One of them being oral, apparently.
He tries to gather his thoughts and present them in a way that's both reassuring, but also casual.
"I mean, it's alriiiiight. You didn't even get that faaaar."
As soon as it falls out of his mouth, he wonders idly if the experimentation muddled with his brains even more than he thought. What the fuck was that? Gricko must agree, because the bathroom door immediately swings open to reveal one pale, sweaty, and very cross goblin.
"WHADDDYA MEAN, I DIDN'T ‘EVEN GET THAT FAR’? FELT PLENTY FAR TO THE BACK OF ME THROAT!"
Uh-oh. "T-- Torbek didn't mean it like that, uhh, Torbek didn't want to upset you--"
"I'M NOT-- I'm not upset," Gricko abruptly lowers his volume to a softer one, probably meant to be reassuring but instead fifty times scarier. "I'm just a LITTLE frustrated that I LITERALLY CAN'T do something that I SHOULD! Be able! To do!" Each statement is punctuated with a “slap” on the door-frame, before he grumbles and slumps against it. Then, desperate: "I just wanted to make you feel as good as you made me feel--!”
As soon as he says it, Gricko's eyes widen like perhaps he wasn't supposed to. He groans and pinches the bridge of his nose, shoulders hunched.
Warmth flutters in Torbek's chest, blooming sudden and unexpected. Gricko's face remains in his hand and pointed at the floor, but Torbek can still see the way his ears sag a little, shoulders squared. This is far, far outside of the bugbear’s depth. He’s unsure of what to say now, or what would even matter-- what if he didn’t say something, but instead...?
The deepest, most primal part of Torbek's brain takes over. He gently takes his maw and presses it into the small of Gricko's neck, humming softly. Grazes the back of his tusks along the throbbing vein that sits there, just enough to be felt. Gricko jolts a little with surprise, pulling his face out of his hand to stare at Torbek.
"What're you doin’?"
"Nuuuthiiiiiin’," Torbek sing-songs. "Torbek just liiiikes you a looooot." Then he adds, "Even though you almost chunked it all over Torbek’s diiick,": perhaps to soften it not just for Gricko, but also himself. Round out the edges that his admission has, and what it means.
And also because it's funny.
" 'CHUH—'?! Fuck OFF!" Gricko scowls, but it does get a reluctant laugh out of him. The sound sends a triumphant jolt directly through Torbek's chest: he grunts and moves closer into Gricko's space, nuzzling into his side as best he can being three times his height. Making a pleased little noise without even meaning to, he starts running his cheek along Gricko's. His stubble tickles a little.
"Don’t get cute," The goblin mumbles. "Y’can't-- y’can't just scent your way out of this."
"Hmnhnn," Torbek muses. He continues to go about rubbing his chin across Gricko's scalp. "Torbek disagreees."
“Fleh.”
Torbek bites Gricko’s shoulder-- as gently as possible, but still a bite.
“OW! Fuck!”
“Don’t be a grouuuuch.” Torbek chides.
“‘Don’t be a’-- you just bit me!” Gricko protests, pointing at the offending mark.
“<Torbek’s pretty sure you liiiike it.>”
Gricko blinks a couple times, dumbfounded. A slow, reluctant smile spreads across his face before he answers in kind, voice naturally pitching up as he slips into their native tongue.
“<Maybe.>” He pauses. “<There’s some other stuff I’d like, too.>”
“<Oh?>” Torbek lifts his head to waggle his brows. “<Yeeaaaah?>” He weighs whether craving Gricko’s touch the past few days would be too heavy an admission, too much of a stretch of their boundaries: then, because he’s never had boundaries no matter how hard he tries: “<Torbek’s miiiissed you.>”
Gricko looks surprised for a moment, but the look of feeling trapped or tied-down thankfully doesn’t cross his face. The corners of his eyes soften, and he simply responds “<I missed you too.>” before launching himself at Torbek’s mouth like a small, voracious predator.
The kiss is more feral than anything, a flurry of tongues and teeth and Gricko’s claws tangled in his hair. Torbek can’t get enough. Gricko bites his lip just hard enough for a sharp sting, quickly lapping at the wounds as fast as he made them. Torbek barks out a sound between a laugh and a snarl as he digs his talons into Gricko’s ass, cock twitching hungrily when he elicits a gasp. He finds a particularly enticing mole on Gricko’s shoulder and sinks his teeth in: not hard enough to draw blood, but enough to guarantee a bruise; to draw a hiss and a squirm out of the goblin. For a split second Torbek worries he’s gone too far-- then Gricko sinks his claws deep into the meat of his hips with a satisfied snarl and he remembers exactly who he’s dealing with.
They continue on for some time, ping-ponging between biting and tonguing with only brief pauses for air. Still keeping contact with Torbek’s lips, Gricko shifts backwards and presses himself firmly in Torbek's lap, which the bugbear wasn't expecting; Torbek feels the cleft of his ass on his crotch and is at full mast immediately.
"Wow," Gricko muses, sounding somehow both amazed and also completely unsurprised.
"Tuh-- Torbek can't help iiit," He flusters, nervously defaulting back to Common and feeling very, very hot: warmth is pooling and gathering not just in his crotch, but in his face and every other part of him as well. Under his hands Gricko’s also very warm, and very handsome, and so very very close.
He strips his shirt off and grabs Torbek's hands, placing them across his chest and wriggling out of his shorts as Torbek starts to fumble. He grazes a nipple with one of his claws and Gricko pauses, taking in a small, pleased sound in the back of his throat. The sound goes straight to Torbek's dick-- he remembers the first time they did this and instantly panics, dropping his hands from Gricko to immediately strip off his own clothing. They're shaking a little as he discards his pants, and also he gets tangled up in his own shirt. Great.
"Don't wanna blow a load in your laundry again?" He hears Gricko tease as he struggles inside his self-made prison. He SHOULD probably be annoyed with Torbek's bedroom fumbling-- most people are, by this point, and he DID just immediately drop his foreplay with no explanation-- but he actually sounds more amused than anything. Which...is better than judgment, for sure, but hearing Gricko reference the event aloud and giggle about it makes his entire stomach flip-flop in a way he's not sure is good or bad. He DOES know his face is absolutely boiling, forehead suddenly incredibly sweaty. Maybe staying inside the shirt is actually a good thing.
"That was youuuur fault!" He whines defensively. "Torbek would've been FINE if Gricko didn't start saying all that-- that really dirty stuff!" The memory of being called a “good boy” with Gricko firmly wrapped around his head comes to mind. He quickly squashes it.
“You thought THAT was ‘really dirty’?” Gricko laughs, a harsh thread of teasing woven through the soft words. “Just you wait.”
Torbek grumbles, cross, as he feels Gricko’s claws reach out and tug the offending fabric free at last. The annoyance quickly fades as he sees Gricko completely bare before him, kneeling in front of him expectant and with one brow raised.
“You’ve seen me stark-naked plenty of times before,” he scoffs, amused. “Everyone has.”
“Torbek wasn’t allowed to loooook like this,” Torbek argues back, eyes slowly moving all over. Gricko’s apple-green skin is mottled with all kinds of wild beast scars and covered here and there in fuzzy, light hair-- his body is slight, but has the muscle and tone of a man who’s been rough-and-tumble on the road for decades. A little paunch juts out over his lap (“me dad bod!” he had exclaimed one night, picking up the phrase from who knows where: Gideon had replied “more like sad bod” and laughed so hard at his own joke he’d almost tossed his dinner), a trail of hair leading down into his nethers. Torbek gulps a little as he reaches out a hand and hesitantly places it on Gricko’s thigh. A small, wheezy noise of longing escapes him before he can stop it.
“Careful now,” Gricko says, amused, adding an incredibly unnecessary “splat” sound at the end. Torbek pulls back his hand as though he’s been burned, fixing Gricko with a sour look.
“Aww, are you still sore about it? Don’t be embarrassed,” Gricko laughs, but gentler this time. "’M only teasin’ cuz...I mean, I thought that it was primo. I've jerked off to that mental image like, at LEAST six times since that night, easy."
Torbek closes his eyes and thinks of every torture, despair, or horribly disgusting thing to happen to him in a desperate bid not to come right there. He succeeds, but only because of the sheer volume he has to choose from. “Duh-- don't-- don’t tell Torbek that stuuuuff while Torbek's tr-- trying not to--!" He punctuates with an obscene gesture.
"Sorry," Gricko teases, not sounding very sorry at all. He leans forward, shoving his tongue into Torbek’s mouth with some roughness, but more tenderly than their earlier brawling. Torbek closes his eyes and lets himself be swept up, keeping up with Gricko’s movements best he can with his head swimming.
When they break for air, Torbek pauses. His eyes are still transfixed on the trail of soft hair leading down and across Gricko’s lap, spreading up across his stomach and around. The cleft of where his thighs meet calls to him like a filthy siren song.
“Mmm…”
“Somefin’ on your mind, Torbek?”
“Youuu.” Obviously. Torbek clarifies, “thiiiiiiis,” and squeezes at one of Gricko’s legs.
“Torbek. Are you a thigh-fucker?”
Torbek flutters his lashes. “Torbek suuure would liiike to be.”
The goblin gives him a toothy grin and flutters his lashes right back-- or tries. He gets something stuck in his eye and sputters for a second, ruining the effect completely. Torbek is completely smitten.
“Your wish is my command,” Gricko purrs and goes on as though that hadn’t just happened, propping up some pillows and making himself comfortable, back to the bugbear. “There y’go.” Torbek makes a little sad sound in the back of his throat without meaning to, and Gricko casts a glance at him over his shoulder. “What’s wrong?”
“No, it’s just...mmmm. Turn arouuund.” He puts a gentle hand on Gricko’s shoulder, guiding the goblin into facing towards him with a quizzical look. “Torbek didn’t get to see your faaaace last time.”
Gricko makes a choking sound and quickly ducks his head, tucking his chin and pretending to be occupied with opening a vial he’s produced from Gods-know-where.
“Sap,” he grumbles as he finally uncorks the bottle, going from "green" to "blotchy sunburnt olive". He angles his arm a bit awkwardly, pausing; Torbek silently takes the vial from him and applies it to both himself and then Gricko. On the latter he takes his time spreading it liberally all around his thighs, biting back a groan at the sensation; takes some and rubs it on the back of Gricko’s thighs too, for good measure. Of course.
“Watch it,” he warns as Torbek starts getting inquisitive with his hands, prying and peeking curiously.
“Whaaaaat?” Torbek flutters his lashes not-so-innocently again, this time with a far less warm reception. “Torbek is curiouuuus!”
“Filthy-ass fucker.”
Well, yeah. With that established, Torbek pushes himself into the space between Gricko’s legs and has to immediately fight not to blow his load right there. The silky feeling combined with the soft pressure is like heaven: Torbek immediately pulls his hips back and starts to thrust in earnest, relishing the tiny sounds and faces Gricko makes with each one. Torbek is quickly realizing the goblin pulls some seriously weird faces when he’s enjoying himself, scrunching and contorting wildly...maybe there was more than one reason he was bashful about it earlier. Not that Torbek cares; it’s cute. More importantly, it’s an incredibly easy indicator that he’s doing a good job-- which for someone like Torbek, who has the self-confidence of a wet mop, is huge. Emboldened, he takes a firm hold on Gricko’s hips and picks up the pace. The heat from his cunt is radiating to Torbek’s dick, his arousal dripping down onto him. Torbek digs his claws into the headboard to keep a grip on himself. He immediately hears the splintering of wood and, somewhere deep in the back of his brain, is dreadfully aware Mr. Kremy is going to be VERY upset about having to pay for room damage. Oh well.
“Mnn,” movement brings Torbek’s brain back down to earth, then he notices Gricko using his hands all over himself-- roaming up and down, one grazing his nipples and giving it a hard pinch. Another dives between his legs and fans out there, fingers desperately searching. The sight brings back Gricko commenting on pleasuring himself to Torbek: the mental image along with the feeling of Gricko’s thighs wrapped around his dick is making him dizzy. He imagines the man in question bent over alone in his tent, cheeks flushed, hair in his face and hand stuffed down his pants, his writhing fingers absolutely soaked as he whispers Torbek's name--
"<Gricko,>" He moans in the goblin’s ear. "<Tor-- Torbek's gonna-->"
"<Go ahead,>" Gricko gasps, and Torbek feels a deep rumble build in his chest and wrench out of him as he suddenly grabs him and holds him close. He spills all over Gricko's thighs, cussing absolute nonsense filth in Goblin as his body pulses. His mind goes blank as it feels like the white-hot sensation singes every last functioning braincell he has, bracing himself against the wall so he doesn’t collapse.
"<Torbek,>" Gricko gasps out from underneath him. His shoulders are shaking as he uses a free hand to desperately finger at himself; Torbek shakes out of his daze and quickly wraps himself around the goblin, pulling him in with one arm while using the other to reach forward and tentatively get a few fingers where Gricko's hand already is. Gricko grabs his wrist with his other hand, flopping fully onto the mattress as he guides his and Torbek's joint digits to his opening.
"<Mmm, mmm, yea-- right there, fuck-->"
"<You suuuure?>"
"<Yes. Yeah,>" Gricko gasps, looking sidelong at Torbek with a dual-edged look of softness and hunger. "<Please.>"
Torbek quickly retracts his claws into his flesh (among the many new-and-strange uses discovered for his horrible powers, fingering is a more pleasant one) and does as he's asked. Gricko did say please, after all.
If Torbek hadn't just come, the noises and movements Gricko starts making would have him at full mast, no question. He writhes and gasps, groaning "<Uuuhnngh, Torbek-- fuck, fuck, Torbek, shit, Jesus-- FUCK-- so FUCKING good!-->", and Torbek feels heat climbing up his cheeks, a sort of deep smugness taking root in his chest as Gricko gasps his name over and over. He wants to hear it MORE: he wants to make Gricko feel as good as he makes him feel, just as welcome, just as accepted and deserving of companionship and affection freely given. An animal sort of need to make Gricko come as hard as possible takes him over; he twists his wrist and increases speed a little, and Gricko screams: not even a regular scream, but a rough, jagged sort that’s clawed at the edges. Torbek feels him clamp hard around his hand, thrashing and thrusting, and coos nonsense at him as he bucks and writhes against his wrist. His pelvis spasms again, hard, and he spits out some ear-scorching filth in Goblin as falls back onto the mattress, gasping for air. Torbek nuzzles into his hair and purrs. Belatedly, he pulls his fingers out too, fully ignoring the look he gets when he sticks said fingers in his mouth.
“<Goooood?>” Torbek asks instead, having a feeling for the answer but still smug enough to want to hear it.
“<What d’you think? Oh my Gods, Torbek. Holy hell.>”
Silence falls, but not for long. A question has been burning a hole Torbek’s brain-stem this entire time.
"...have you really jerked off to Torbek six tiiimes?"
Gricko coughs, awkwardly. "I-- mayhaps I should be more careful about the things I share when I'm. Excited."
Torbek is going to ask if that means it's true, but his awkward reaction is a dead giveaway. Torbek feels a slow, sinister grin curling over his face.
"Why wasn't Torbek inviiiiited?"
Gricko flusters. "I--! LISTEN, it is DIFFICULT as a FATHER to get alone time as-is, never mind trying to sneak a second person in while there's four other people listenin'--"
"Torbek is good at sneaking." Torbek deadpans, more serious about anything than he ever has been in his life. "Torbek is VERY, VERY good at sneaking."
Gricko softens a little, though the embarrassed hunch stays in his shoulders as he muses, "...well. Maybe next time I could entertain an audience."
Torbek grin only widens.
THANKS FOR READING !!!!!!!