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It had been a long day for Grian already, despite it only being barely noon. The sun hangs high in the sky as Grian keeps himself cooped up in his base, making his way in and out of his shower trying to be sure he looks pristine for the upcoming second half of the Sahara ad he has to film. Grian had never cared about his appearance before, and that’s coming back to bite him in the ass as he has to spend hours upon hours cleaning himself up enough to be on film. This is the first ad he’s had to film for Sahara, and he wants it to look flawless, he wants to absolutely sparkle on that screen and get the bunch of them the sales they finally deserve.
Just a few days ago, he had approached Ren in his dojo and asked him to star as an actor in Sahara’s debut advert, and the dog hybrid kindly accepted. Today was the second shooting day, and Grian was incredibly nervous for what was to come, he had much more time on screen than Ren after all… And he had to wear a suit today too, for goodness’ sake!
Grian’s washed himself about 5 separate times now, but his feathers still look like a mess. His hair was glistening, his skin was clear, and, to be honest, he looked stunning, but his feathers that stick up in every which way completely ruin his elegance. He scowls as he gazes into the mirror of his bathroom, all of him soaking wet from his most recent shower, all except for his damn waterproof feathers. He was born as a duck Avian, duck features shining through all of his Avian parts of himself, and much to Grian’s annoyance, waterproof feathers came packaged with that deal.
Groaning in frustration, he slumps over onto the sink, his head landing roughly onto his arms. He dreads it, he dreads it so much, but he realizes he actually has to preen, and not one of the usual quick wing preening, instead he would have to preen his entire body. He just somehow has to get that done before it’s time to film…
Forcing himself up, he quickly replaces the towel he wears with the first pair of boxers he finds laying on the ground. He can preen the feathers under there later anyways, it’s not like anyone would see them in the commercial. Grian saunters to his bed, dragging his feet with every step as he plans out the best way to preen his entire body in such a short time, fighting in his head over if this is even worth it or not.
He plops down onto his sheets, adjusting himself so he sits up, legs stretched out in front of him as he prepares to begin this arduous task. As he begins to sort through the feathers on his thighs, he feels a chill run down his back from the sheer cold of wearing no clothes other than his underwear. He hates, or rather despises, the activity of preening himself, he hates how long it takes, he hates how it needs to be such a careful process, and he hates how he can’t ask anyone for help, all because no one in the server are his relatives, and he’s single too!
About an hour passes, and Grian had just finished with the feathers on his chest, leaving only his back and wings to be preened. With the feathers on his legs, chest, and tail all cleaned up, Grian leans back against his pillows for a breather, shutting his eyes and spreading his legs for comfort. He rests his arms on his chest, letting himself drift off. So what if he slumbers a little bit? He’s got time… maybe.
As his thoughts start to slow, a sudden thud sounds out across his base, forcing him to shoot awake. He opens his eyes, pushing himself to sit somewhat upright with his back against his pillows as he surveys his home, searching for the source of the noise. From where his bed is placed — It being just barely off from being smack dab in the middle of his abode, — he can see everything that happens.
And what he sees… is his best friend in the entire server, Mumbo, picking himself up from a rough landing, rubbing his head with a soft grumble. Mumbo cluelessly looks around, brows knitted as he scans the area for what Grian assumes is him. He snickers quietly when Mumbo somehow skips right over Grian, not even glancing at his bed where he lays, and instead looking… up?
“Grian?” Mumbo calls, cupping his hands around his mouth to boost his voice. “You here, mate?” He yells up towards the hole in the center of Grian’s base, the one that leads to the floors above them.
Grian’s soft giggles shift into a full blown cackle, laughs echoing throughout the room. “Mumbo!” He shouts towards the suited man, “I’m over here, dude!”
In response, Mumbo yelps and jumps into the air like a frightened cat, stumbling backwards as his long limbs flail helplessly. “Grian!” He scoffs, as if Grian had purposefully scared him. He whips his head around to find Grian, glaring at him once he spots him. “I was looking for you, why didn’t—” His eyes widen, dropping his glare as his cheeks redden with embarrassment. “Oh, gosh. You’re naked.”
He snorts as Mumbo’s eyes lock onto him and his unintentionally seductive pose, as his knees are still raised with his legs spread open causally, displaying his tight boxer briefs without even thinking about it as he lounges on one of his elbows. Grian glances down at where Mumbo stares, face flushing as he realizes how he lies. Rapidly, he sits up and throws his blankets over himself, covering the bottom half of his body and clearing his throat awkwardly.
“Well.” Grian timidly looks away from Mumbo, “You— You walked in on me preening, dude. Nothing, uh… naughty.” He sits cross legged, fidgeting awkwardly as he purses his lips.
“Preening?” Mumbo tilts his head curiously, “Uh, no offense, mate, but that sounds naughty. What is preening?”
“It’s not naughty!” Grian snaps his head to glare and the man who had just barged into his base, unannounced and uninvited. The Avian pulls his messy wings in front of his body, gesturing at them as he begins to answer the mustached man. “It’s an Avian thing. It’s where I clean my feathers, taking out all the grime and stuff. And—” He raises a finger, accusatorily pointing it at Mumbo. “Before you ask, no, water doesn’t do all of it. I still have to do way too much after a shower.”
“Hey.” Mumbo pouts, “I wasn’t going to ask that.” He steps closer to Grian, blush fading away as a new curious sparkle appears in his pretty blue gaze. He cautiously sits on the edge of Grian’s bed, visibly biting on the inside of his cheek as he awaits Grian to tell him to screw off. “So, uh—”
“Get on with it, Mumbo.” Grian chuckles, resting his head on one of his hands as he stares at his nervous friend. “I can tell you’re curious, dude.”
Mumbo squints at him, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards as he grows fond of Grian’s ability to read him. “And what if I am, Grian?”
“Curiousity killed the cat, you know.”
“I’m not a cat though, Grian! I’m a— I’m a fully grown human male, thank you very much!”
“Hmm.” Grian tauntingly rubs at his chin, “Yeah, you’re more like a puppy, actually. I could see you with a lil’ dog tail.”
“Wha— ! Ah— !” Mumbo sputters, gaping at the giggly smaller. “Shut up, mate! Let me just ask my questions!”
“Right, right, go ahead, Mumby.”
Disregarding the nickname, Mumbo turns himself to face Grian, quickly taking off his shoes so he can match Grian’s seating style as he crosses his own legs. “So, uhm… What does preening do?” He asks as he makes himself comfortable.
“It’s to clean my feathers, I have to pick out all the stray rocks and dust and stuff. Also need to align them and break off dead feathers, or clean off some keratin from my new feathers.” Grian explains, “It keeps them from drying too… It, uh, also keeps them waterproof.” He sighs. “I hate it, Mumbo. I wanna pluck all my stupid feathers out.”
“I mean…” Mumbo huffs, looking up at the ceiling as he ponders. “I can tell it’s really annoying, but… So is most human self care.” He focuses back on Grian, confusion evident in the squint of his eyes. “Why do you hate it?”
Grian grumbles, pulling his knees up to rest his head on there instead, hiding his head in his legs’ masses of feathers. “It takes so damn long… Hours, Mumbo Jumbo, actual hours…”
Surprisingly, he feels a hand abruptly press against his wing, softly caressing his primaries. He lifts his head, examining as Mumbo officiously runs his hand over Grian’s feathers. “What— What are you doing?” Grian croaks, mouth suddenly dry as Mumbo pries into something so unknowingly personal.
“Ah, sorry I—” He pulls back, and Grian sighs in relief. “I was just wondering… Would it, uh, go faster if I helped?” Mumbo questions, and Grian’s heart stops for a moment.
“Look, Mumbo…” He watches as Mumbo winces at the rejection, “Thanks for offering, but preening is like… incredibly personal, dude. Avians are— Uh, sensitive, to say the least. So, preening is reserved for family, or mates too, I guess.”
“We’re mates!” Mumbo cuts in.
“Wha— WHAT!?” Grian didn’t mean to shout, but it feels well needed with what Mumbo just said. They are not mates, they aren’t even dating. “Mumbo! Are— Are you joking!? Do you even know what you just said, dude!?”
Mumbo yelps, shuffling back from Grian and off the bed, standing up with a flush on his face. “Yeah, I— I was joking, Grian, goodness gracious me! I meant like, like we’re friends! Y’know, buddies? That kinda mate?”
Groaning, Grian collapses his head back onto his knees. “You are such a spoon, Mumbo. My lord.”
“Sorry.” Mumbo chuckles awkwardly, and damn if Grian said that cute little laugh didn’t worsen his blush he’d be lying.
Grian sighs, gripping the sheets and scuffling over to the end of the bed, looking at Mumbo as he throws his legs over the edge. “You can help.” Grian gives in, because screw Avian laws of society if it means he can get this preening over and done with. Maybe, if he’s lucky, this could be permanent, with Mumbo helping him out every time.
“Wait, really?” Mumbo marvels, stepping closer towards Grian in a joyful manner. “Gosh, thank you so much, Grian. I’m quite curious on how preening works now.”
Grian beams at the cheerful light in Mumbo’s smile, his snow white wings fluttering in delight as he takes in Mumbo’s face. “Anytime, Mumbo. Now get to it, I’m a busy man.”
Grian feels Mumbo sit on the bed behind him, the bed rising and falling with his added weight. After a second of shuffling behind him, he hears Mumbo begin to ask, “Uhm, how do I start?”
“Right. Tutorial.” Grian groans, turning his head to point out specific spots to the curious man. “Ok, so you just gotta sort through my feathers first. Line up any that are out of place, pull out any which you think are dead, those are the ones where you can’t see any tint of pink in them, and don’t forget to crush any old keratin you see, got it?”
Betraying the confused look on his face, Mumbo nods and gets to work, slowly and gently combing his hand between Grian’s soft feathers. “Ah,” Grian sighs in relief, slouching forward to rest his head on his hands and finally get the rest he so desires, “Thank you, M’bo.”
A few minutes of silence pass, Grian happily dozing off as Mumbo adjusts his feathers, quickly making his way through each section, cleaning them in such a careful way it stands out to Grian. It certainly is unusual for Mumbo to be so methodical, the Avian notes, the taller man is typically much more frantic and reckless than this.
The sensation of Mumbo’s large fingers carding through his feathers is enough for Grian to completely let his guard down, sagging his wings behind him as hums in satisfaction. He basks in the pleasant touch, letting himself fall back into Mumbo’s hands with a clucking hum of a quack, and so what if the volume of Grian’s happy tune increases when he hears Mumbo let out a bark of laughter.
Relaxing into Mumbo’s soothing preening job, he lets the taller fully take control as he slips into his natural bird-brained state, chipping and chattering as his Avian instincts take over. Deep down he knows he shouldn’t be reverting so much in front of Mumbo, especially because this is his first time ever being preened by him, but the comfort is so immense that he just can’t help himself.
Yet, the ease is torn away from Grian as he feels a stray hand brush against his back. As he’s yanked back into his normal thoughts, he lurches away from Mumbo with a startled quack, flapping his wings as he flails in surprise. “MUMBO!” He yells, scaring the aforementioned man in the process, “DON’T— Don’t touch there!”
Mumbo tenses, freezing in place with his hands still hovering right where they had committed their crime. “Uh, uhm—” He stammers, his face paling with fear. “S-Sorry?” His brows furrow as he apologetically shrinks back into himself, his hands retreating and awkwardly gripping his pants.
“No, you…” Grian sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You’re fine, Mumbo. You didn’t know.”
“Didn’t know?” He cocks his head, straightening himself up and scooting closer towards Grian.
“Yeah.” The Avian scowls, inwardly trying to shake off the odd feeling that touch had given him. It was way too akin to lewdness for his comfort, but luckily with how brief the touch was, his mind — and libido — had come out unscathed. “Just— Just don’t touch there. Or underneath my wings.”
“Right.” Mumbo nods, “I won’t, for sure.” Grian hopes that the smirk he hears in Mumbo’s words is just his imagination.
He doesn’t untense as Mumbo returns to his wings, his instincts that still haven’t fully slipped away scream at him to be alert, to be aware of Mumbo’s movements, because it’s uncomfortably likely he’s going to do that again. Grian wants to tell his brain to shut up, Mumbo would never intentionally work up Grian like that, they are just friends after all. He simply just didn’t know, but it’s all okay now —
Fingers poke into the skin in between Grian’s wings, softly yet quickly scratching at the feathers attached to him. In an instant, Grian snaps his body around to yell at Mumbo, holding back a gasp as an overwhelming pleasure floods through his body. He spots an easily recognizable mischievous glee on Mumbo’s face as the taller’s shoulders quake with a silent laughter, and with anger, Grian realizes that he’s doing this on purpose.
“Mumb—” As he opens his mouth, Mumbo darts his hands to tickle at the underneath of Grian’s wings, causing a shock of pure arousal to set all of Grian’s nerves on fire. The Avian’s back springs into an arch at the stimuli, and humiliatingly, his scolding words morph into a deafening moan.
Silence, a short moment of awkward silence, and then, it’s broken by a sharp gasp of surprise from the mustached man.
“Oh gosh!” Mumbo uses his legs to clumsily push himself away from Grian, freezing as his back hits Grian’s pillows. His feet push at the blankets, bunching them up as he uselessly tries to flee. “I’m so— Oh no, I’m so sorry!”
“...Mumbo.” Grian all but growls, snarling at Mumbo. He hates it, but against his will he feels his dick hardening, extending from its sheath as desire streams through his veins. He keeps his back turned to Mumbo, hiding his shame even through his anger. “You… you know what you just did, right?”
Mumbo defensively raises his hands, curling his knees up to his chest to appear smaller. “I didn’t— I didn’t mean to, mate! I’m sorry, I was just… Goodness, I just thought you were ticklish!”
“Ticklish!?” Grian ridicules, hollering as his voice, and anger, grow in volume. “Are you dense!?”
“Um— I—” Mumbo flinches, lip quivering as he looks to his feet. He grabs at the sheets underneath him in a manner full of unsettlement.
Grian stares daggers behind him at the redstoner, but his glare softens once he notices the fear on Mumbo’s face. “Mumbo.” He sighs, wincing and writhing as his arousal refuses to settle down, “Mumbo, I— Ah, damn it—” He squeezes his eyes shut, grinding against his blankets in the most subtle way he could manage.
“Grian?” He hears Mumbo begin, “What are you d… Are you okay?” He asks with a pitiful croak to his voice, and Grian can hear the soft rustle of fabric as Mumbo scoots closer to him.
“No, just— B-Back up, Mumbo.” The smaller stutters, his breathing growing rapid as his rutting becomes slightly more apparent. He chases the friction against his aching dick, breath hitching as he resists the urge to reach down and take care of it himself, right in front of Mumbo.
“Grian.” A shiver runs down his spine once he feels Mumbo’s breath right beside his ear, with the curious man having closed in on him to find out what he was up to.
“No, Mumbo—”
“Are you…?”
“Mumbo—!” Grian chokes, forcing himself to still as he turns to glower at the taller. He grabs the collar of Mumbo’s dress shirt, pulling him closer aggressively as he stares into his eyes. “You— Just, just stop teasing me already!”
“Teasing?” Mumbo furrows his brows.
“Yes! You spoon, have you—” He pauses to groan in annoyance, exasperatedly turning his entire body to face the oblivious man. “Have you seen what you’ve done to me!?” Grian berates, pushing Mumbo back just far enough so he could see Grian’s painful bulge rested in between his spread legs.
Mumbo’s face erupts into a striking red, jaw dropping silently as he stares down at the straining cloth. “Oh— Oh my word, Grian.” He gulps, practically drooling over the sight, and Grian can’t tell whether or not that pleases him with the stubborn anger that still pulses in his mind.
The feathers on Grian’s body puff up with irritation under Mumbo’s interest, his grip on Mumbo’s shirt tightening. “Don’t you… Don’t you look at me like that.” growls Grian. Mumbo’s eyes flick upwards to Grian’s darkened face, hesitation in his expression. “I told you not to touch.”
“You— You never told me why I shouldn’t!” Mumbo speaks in a small, unsteady voice. He’s frozen where he sits, with his only noticeable movement being his usual fidgeting as his fingers absently rub together.
Grian pulls Mumbo closer. “You can see why, dude.” Mumbo’s eyeline turns back downwards at Grian’s words, nervously biting his lip as he takes in the outline of Grian’s hard prick. The Avian’s legs twitch as he struggles to stay still any longer, a quiet wince making its way out of his mouth as he holds himself back from grinding against the man in front of him. “Void, I can’t— I—” He drops his head in humiliation.
“Well, uhm…” Mumbo interrupts, his voice dripping with both uncertainty and lust. “Since, I… did this to you. Maybe, I should… help you out?”
As he continues to writhe, his eyes snap back up to Mumbo’s face, “...What do you mean by help?”
Mumbo carefully reaches forward to lay his hand on Grian’s knee, running his fingers up the feathery expanse of Grian’s thigh. “Like— Like this.”
“Oh my lord, yes.” Grian breathes, placing his own hand over Mumbo’s and pulling him closer to his bulge. “Mumbo, please.”
“Ok. Uh, cool.” Mumbo settles his other hand on Grian’s waist, digging his fingers into the chub on his hip as he tugs him closer. Grian responds by immediately climbing onto Mumbo’s lap, straddling the taller while latching onto Mumbo’s shirt, hiding his face in his shoulder. “Gr-Grian!” Mumbo laughs at his suddenness.
Mumbo’s hands awkwardly hover over Grian’s back, and after what both of them agree was a way too long period of no movement, Mumbo decides to make a brave move and press into the spot that caused all of this. Grian whimpers in response, tightening his grasp on Mumbo and grinding forward into his crotch.
A short dash of pride shoots through Grian as he feels the hardness behind Mumbo’s jeans accompanied with a breathy gasp. With confidence, Grian grabs the nape of Mumbo’s neck and rams his lips onto Mumbo’s, kissing hard enough to leave bruises on the taller male.
“Grian—” Mumbo moans into the kiss, pressing his fingers deeper into the skin underneath Grian’s wings as he grinds upwards. Grian happily takes the opportunity to slot his tongue into the other’s mouth, Mumbo instantly and eagerly returning the sloppy kiss.
The two lick into each other’s mouths desperately, pressing against each other as if they wish to meld. Yet, they both pull away to catch their breaths, their shared eye contact coated in desire.
Their chests rise and fall dramatically, lips only inches away from each other. “Mumbo…” Grian rasps, his breath ghosting over Mumbo’s face, “God— God damn it, Mumbo, just touch me already.”
Mumbo swallows, pupils blown as he nods at the request. He places his hands onto Grian’s pecs, pushing him to lean backwards.
Satisfaction makes itself known within Grian at Mumbo’s will to obey, smugly giggling as he rests on his arms, posing such as that Mumbo has full access to whatever he wishes.
A hand brushes over Grian’s bulge, coaxing a moan from the shorter as Mumbo gently wraps his fingers around Grian’s dick through the fabric of his boxers. Grian gasps Mumbo’s name, his talons curling into the sheets with pleasure.
His finger runs over Grian’s tip, pressing down over the dark stain on the cloth. “Goodness, you’re already staining your pants.”
“Mumbo…” Grian pushes against his touch, “Stop— Stop it, you jerk.”
“Alright, alright. Can I take off your briefs?”
“Yes, Mumbo, hurry up.” The Avian scowls, raising his hips as Mumbo’s hands wrap around his hips. Fingers find themselves underneath his waistband, curling around the elastic and tugging them down, finally freeing Grian’s erection. Grian whimpers as his dick springs out, uselessly thrusting up to chase the friction.
“O-Oh… Oh my lord, Grian.” Grian looks up to see Mumbo staring at him with a sinful curiosity, with the Human staring directly at where Grian’s shaft disappears into his cloaca. “Is this a, uh… Cloaca?”
“Ye—” He begins to confirm, before being cut off with his own gasp as he feels a finger poke at the base of his dick, the finger exploring where his prick protrudes from its sheath. “Oh, Mumbo!” His head whips back, hitting his mattress as he moans out loud.
Mumbo chuckles, pressing more fingers against him. “Does that feel good?”
“Yes, oh lord, Mumbo, keep going—” He bucks into Mumbo’s touch, shutting his eyes.
Stray fingers trail upwards to wrap around Grian’s aching cock, forcing a whimper from the smaller as Mumbo slowly starts to stroke him. Simultaneously, the taller’s thumb presses downward, teasing itself into Grian’s entrance.
Grian hisses both in pain and pleasure as he feels the large digit enter him raw. “Damn it, don’t— Don’t stop.”
“Goodness,” Mumbo breathes, “you are so needy, Grian.”
Grian can’t hold back a gasp when he feels Mumbo’s other hand begin to also prod at his hole, while the thumb that used to be there pulls up to fully wrap around Grian’s dick. Mumbo’s hand is large enough to easily envelop Grian, only needing barely a movement to properly stroke up and down.
As he feels both Mumbo’s thumb and pointer finger poke into his hole along with the aggressive ecstasy of being jacked off, he peeks an eye open to glance at his friend — or whatever they are now, — and he’s surprised to see Mumbo staring right back at him. The taller’s eyes are full of adoration and awe, sparkling with that oh-so-beautiful shine of wonder, and Grian’s poor little heart can’t help but skip a beat at the sight.
Grian grumbles, a form of flattered embarrassment making itself known in the form of redness spreading across his face. He uses his arms to push himself upright, taking Mumbo’s shirt in his hands and burying his face into the crook of his neck, whining quietly as Mumbo continues to tug at his prick.
“Oh, hello.” Mumbo’s tone turns soft. “You alright, mate?” He slows his hand and leans down to leave a kiss right underneath Grian’s ear feathers. The shorter’s feathers puff up, making Mumbo giggle as they tickle his nose.
“Mumbo…” Grian whines into Mumbo’s shirt, moving and wrapping his fingers around Mumbo’s wrist to force him to stroke faster. “Stop being so sweet… It’s screwing with me.”
“Oh. Uh, like— Actually?”
Grian only gasps as Mumbo rubs over his tip.
“Grian?”
“Mu— Ah, Mumbo—! Don’t… Don’t actually stop, please…”
In place of a response, Mumbo just laughs and hides his face in Grian’s own neck, and Grian can feel the warmth of Mumbo’s blush against his skin. “Mumbo…” Grian sighs, wrapping his arms around Mumbo’s neck to pull him in closer.
“Mumbo,” Grian mutters into his ear, his breath heavy as he thrusts into the taller’s hand.
Grian whispers, “I want you to fuck me.”
“Oh, lord.” Mumbo breathes. His hand pauses as he slowly raises from Grian’s shoulder, gaping at Grian with wide eyes. “Oh, Grian, yes.”
The Avian immediately begins to work at Mumbo’s dress shirt, hastily unbuttoning it while Mumbo shrugs off his own jacket. “Mumbo, I— Mumbo, I need you.” He grunts as he fumbles his way through Mumbo’s buttons, “I need you in me.”
Mumbo pulls Grian into a messy kiss as he discards his shirt, unbuttoning the last few buttons purely by force as he tugs it off of himself. Once the space is free, it becomes immediately replaced by Grian’s hands, his sharp digits kneading the taller’s pecs.
He keeps a hand at the base of Grian’s neck, effectively trapping him in the kiss as he blindly fumbles with his own belt. Eventually, he manages to unbuckle the clasp, yanking the leather out of his bottoms and throwing it across the room, all while battling Grian’s tongue for the right to explore the other’s mouth.
Grian digs his talons into Mumbo’s skin, scratching him as he trails his hands downwards. Mumbo gasps, and Grian takes that as his chance to win their feud, using Mumbo’s shock to slip his way into Mumbo’s mouth. He grabs at Mumbo’s trousers, unzipping them and slipping his hand into the opening, palming over Mumbo’s bulging underwear.
The pair of them tug at Mumbo’s slacks, having to separate as Grian sits himself right in front of the larger, and as soon as they finally get them off, Grian dives in to kiss the taller’s bulge through the cloth, licking along where he can feel the shaft.
“Grian—” Mumbo chokes, tears pricking his eyes. “Oh, oh my word, Grian!”
“You’re so handsome. So handsome, all for me.” Grian sucks at the rapidly darkening wet spot of precum, lapping at Mumbo’s tip through his underwear.
Without even thinking about it, Grian releases a loud courting whistle, and as soon as it leaves his mouth, he goes still.
Mumbo whines from the loss, looking down and raising an eyebrow at Grian. “What… What was that?”
“It was nothing.” Grian rushes out, returning to kiss at Mumbo’s boxers. “Just— Just a duck thing.”
“G-Grian…”
“Alright. Fine.” Grian flicks his eyesight up, staring through his eyelashes with a frustrated scowl. “It’s a courting whistle. Nothing more.”
“Courting…?” Mumbo eyes sparkle, “Grian, are you courting me?”
Mumbo yelps as Grian nips at him, flinching backwards as Grian wraps his fingers around Mumbo’s waistband. “Shut up.” The avian growls, pulling the restraining boxers down with a harsh tug.
His grin glimmers as he watches Mumbo’s dick bounce up, smacking against the larger’s stomach as it displays at full mast. He takes Mumbo in hand, leaving a soft kiss on the tip before whispering “...And what if I am.”
Before Mumbo could even respond, Grian slides his cock into his mouth, generously licking and sucking as he takes it halfway.
“Oh my—“ Mumbo whines, tangling his fingers into Grian’s locks. “Oh, oh Grian! You can’t just—“ He pauses to gasp for air as Grian fits more of him into his mouth, “You can’t just say that and…”
The Avian’s tongue licks along the entirety of Mumbo’s cock, staring up into Mumbo’s eyes as he hollows his cheeks, his own spit spilling out of his mouth as he bobs his head. It’s sloppy, very sloppy, but Mumbo can’t hold back a keen of pure arousal as Grian dips his tongue into his slit.
Grian hums around his shaft, taking pleasure in the way Mumbo twitches under him. The wet heat is too much for Mumbo, but once Grian brings his hands into it, stroking whatever isn’t in his mouth while he plays with Mumbo’s balls, the taller one can feel his release nearing.
The fingers in Grian’s sandy hair tighten, and Mumbo gasps out “Grian, I— I think I’m close, oh gosh—”
With an annoyed huff, Grian pulls off with lips slick with spit. “Can’t have you coming yet, Mumby.”
“Wha— Grian!”
“Mumbo,” Grian sits up, salaciously staring at the taller through his half-lidded eyes. “If you cum now, you won’t be able to cum in me.”
“Oh, um.” Mumbo blushes.
“No more stuttering from you.” Grian giggles, scooting backwards and laying back, displaying himself to Mumbo once again. “Get over here and fuck me, dude.”
“Ah! Yep, yep. Right.” Mumbo moves closer, trapping Grian against his mattress as he hovers over him. “I am… going to do that now.” He pauses, biting his lip. “Do— Do you need lube? Or do cloacas—”
“I need lube, Mumbo.” Grian shakes his head, fondly scoffing at Mumbo. “I’ll grab it.” He turns, reaching his arm underneath his bed, scavenging around until he retrieves a bottle, handing it to Mumbo.
“Ok…” He hesitates, squirting some lube onto his fingers and placing the bottle aside. “I’m not very, well, experienced with this all, mate.”
“Makes sense.”
“...Are you insulting me?”
Grian sighs, “The answer to that depends how quickly you get started, dude.”
Rolling his eyes, Mumbo runs his hand down Grian’s body until he reaches the Avian’s cloaca, teasingly pressing against his rim. “Are… Are you alright with this?”
“Yeah.” Grian affectionately tilts his head, softening his usual boisterous voice. “Yeah, I am.”
“Sick.”
“...Oh my god, did you ju—” Grian’s words are cut off as Mumbo abruptly interlocks their lips, tenderly kissing the smaller as he cautiously inserts two of his fingers, sliding them in with little to no resistance.
The kiss is sweet, the pair melting into each other as Mumbo scissors his fingers, coaxing a soft moan from the man under him. Grian wraps his arms around the taller’s neck, deepening their kiss while Mumbo carefully drags his fingers in and out of his hole, his movements almost agonizingly slow.
“Mumbo—” Grian whines, briefly breaking the kiss, “T-Too slow, c’mon, faster—”
He nods and tilts his head to nibble at Grian’s jaw, kissing over his stubble as his hand quickens. The Avian fails to hold back a moan as the fingers roughly and accidentally find his prostate, his entire lower half jerking into the touch.
“Mumbo!” He yells once a new finger joins in, stretching him as far as he feels he could go. “Void, don’t stop— Ngh!”
Mumbo shivers underneath Grian’s hands at the noise, letting out a squeaky breath as he continues his onslaught. The larger man lowers himself until he’s laying on top of the smaller, focusing his strength into practically abusing his hole.
“F-Fuck, Mumbo!” Tears begin to prick in Grian’s eyes when he feels a knot forming in his stomach, his dick bobbing and begging for release. “Wait, wait—” He gasps.
He whimpers as Mumbo pauses his hand, subconsciously squirming against him. “What’s… What’s wrong?” Mumbo pants.
“I needed you to stop before— before I came, dude.”
“Oh!” Mumbo’s face reddens.
“Mumbo,” Grian locks eyes with him, digging his talons into the other man’s back. “Mumbo, fuck me. I’m ready.”
Mumbo squints, “Are you gonna say ‘please’?”
“No.”
“You’re no fun…” Mumbo grumbles, sitting up to get a full view of the Avian under him. His eyes rake over his body, lingering at his gaping hole, just pleading to be filled.
He reaches for the discarded lube, dispensing more into his hand and spreading it over his cock. Grian drools at the sight of the glistening substance dripping off of Mumbo’s fingers and onto the sheets beneath them.
Suddenly, an idea flashes through Grian’s mind while he watches Mumbo nervously coat his prick in lube, the taller whimpering as he jacks himself off. Mumbo’s blissed out face makes his dick throb with desire, craving the urge to have Mumbo underneath him, blushing and squirming as Grian takes control…
“Mumbo…” Mumbo glances up at Grian’s voice, “Mumbo, can I ride you?”
“Oh, lord.” He can see how Mumbo’s rhythm stutters as he thrusts from Grian’s words, “Grian, yes, please.”
Grian hoists himself upright, settling onto his knees as he closes in on Mumbo. He grabs Mumbo’s wrist, stilling his hand and whispering into his ear, “I need you under me.”
He shoves Mumbo onto his back, moving to straddle him as soon as his back hits the mattress. Mumbo gasps, grabbing onto the Avian’s ass as he falls. “Gr-Grian, please.”
“Please what, Mumby?” Grian stoops down to bite at Mumbo’s collarbone, arching himself to teasingly rub his hole on the head of Mumbo’s dick. “Do you want me to stop?”
“No, no, please, Grian—” His voice hitches, adjusting his hands to lay on Grian’s hips. “R-Ride me, Grian, please—”
The Avian smirks, reaching underneath him to grab the base of Mumbo’s prick and line himself up. “Good boy.” He whispers as he sinks himself down onto the taller, groaning at the rub of Mumbo’s dick against his own.
“Void…” Grian heaves, “You… You are very large, Mumbo Jumbo.” He hasn’t even made it all the way down yet, pausing halfway as he hunches over to catch his breath. His hands rest on Mumbo’s chest, absentmindedly caressing his pecs and savoring Mumbo’s desperate gasps.
“Grian, keep going, please—”
“Be patient, Mumbo.” He runs his fingers over the Human’s nipples, pinching and flicking them while Mumbo whines like a sad puppy. Grian can’t help but coo at the pout on Mumbo’s face, “Look at your little face… I just can’t resist you.”
“Ah— Uhm, t-thanks.” Mumbo flushes, tightening his grip on the Avian’s hips.
Grian rolls his eyes, “You’re welcome. Now…” He trails off, adjusting himself to comfortably begin to lower himself on Mumbo’s cock, stuck gasping for air as he feels their skin finally come into contact. “Oh, Mumbo…” Grian puffs, the stretch nearly enough to make him cum on the spot.
“Grian,” The larger wraps his arms around Grian’s back, guiding him to lay chest to chest. “Grian, you’re very tight. It— It feels so weird, so good, but weird.”
“It’s beca— It’s because you’re so damn big Mumbo.”
“It’s also ‘cause you’re so small, Grian.”
“Oh, shush it.” Grian experimentally rolls his hips, giggling as he earns a sharp inhale from the other.
Silently, Grian wraps his arms around Mumbo, resting their foreheads together while he lifts himself up. The shorter groans at the slide of Mumbo’s dick leaving him, the pair of them panting each other’s air, with Grian’s hole twitching for more.
“Grian, Grian, please, Grian—” Mumbo pleads, slipping into silently mouthing Grian’s name as he resists bucking up back into Grian.
Grian decides to shut Mumbo up, lurching forward to connect their lips, tangling his finger into Mumbo’s hair as he pushes himself back down with force, burying Mumbo’s dick into himself. Mumbo mewls into Grian’s mouth, Grian heatedly eating up every noise Mumbo makes.
His thighs quiver as he begins to leisurely bounce, raising himself up and sinking back down in a rhythm. Their kiss breaks as they both gasp for air, a string of saliva hanging in between their lips, shining in the light until Grian licks it up, tongue gliding over the same lips that unending cries flood out of.
Mumbo takes in a sharp breath before he begins to thrust up along to Grian’s rhythm, the two of them joining in a harmony that they could have never predicted. Grian’s wings spread out behind him, displaying his feathers in another show of courtship.
Fire runs through his veins when he feels Mumbo card his fingers through the soft feathers on his back. “Mumbo!” He yells, rutting forward so his own dick rubs against Mumbo’s stomach as he bounces. “Fuck, Mumbo, yes, yes—”
“You— You like that?” Mumbo smiles, digging his redstone coated fingernails into Grian’s skin.
“I do, oh Void, Mumbo, I do—” He feels fire pool in his abdomen, whimpering as he nears his climax, his sweat dripping down his face. “Mumbo, Mumbo, I’m close.” Grian hisses, biting the man under him as he tries to hold back his noises.
Mumbo grunts, tightening his hold on Grian. “H-Hold on.” He murmurs, forcing Grian down against him to stop his bouncing.
“Wh-What are you doing—!” Grian squawks.
Unexpectedly, the two of them are flipped, with Mumbo pushing Grian down into the blankets as he crowds him. He leans over him, practically caging the smaller man in as he pants into his ear. “Can— Can I?” Mumbo’s hips twitch, obviously holding himself back.
“Mumbo, yes, yes!” Grian takes advantage of the new position, wrapping his legs around Mumbo’s back and digging his talons into his skin.
With a yelp, Mumbo swallows hard and begins to raggedly thrust, the rhythm from before forgotten as the sound of skin on skin makes the both of them dizzy with arousal. The taller frantically increases his speed, ramming into the smaller so rough it’s nearly painful.
“G-Grian—” Mumbo squeaks, digging his head into the crook of Grian’s neck, holding him as close as possible as they meet chest to chest. “Grian, I think— I’m gonna—”
The taller’s hips snap wildly, his movements stuttering as his face wrinkles with gritted teeth and furrowed eyebrows. Grian chokes as even through the uneven thrusts he can feel his prostate be hit, slammed into with no precaution.
“AH— Fuck, Mumbo, right there! Mumbo, please!” Grian throws his head back, mouth hanging open as his lungs beg for air. Obeying, Mumbo angles himself to come in contact with Grian’s sweet spot with every thrust, his legs shaking as he feels electric spark through his nerves.
Suddenly, Mumbo’s hips stutter as he curses breathily, whispering Grian’s name as he reaches his orgasm. Grian shudders at the sudden warmth filling his hole as the other comes, scratching his nails into Mumbo’s back as the mustached man’s movement continues, working himself through his climax.
As the last few drops are drawn out, Mumbo collapses on top of the Avian. “Oh my word,” He mumbles, embracing Grian as tight as possible as he regains his breath.
“That was the best I’ve ever…” Mumbo trails off, sluggishly raising his head to look at Grian, but, he’s stunned into silence as he witnesses Grian glaring at him with pure rage.
“Gri—”
“Mumbo.” Grian growls, “Get off of me, I didn’t even cum yet, you asshole.” Grian shoves at him, easily moving the man weak from his orgasm to the side, Mumbo having to pull out as he flops over.
“Oh… Oh!” Mumbo rasps, lying on his side with his elbow holding himself up as he takes in Grian’s still very hard penis. “Oh no, I’m so sorry—”
Grian scowls, “Shut up and get me off.”
“Right, yeah, oh dear…” He reaches to grab Grian’s prick, using some of his own release dripping out of Grian as lube. He breathes out a sigh of relief when he sees Grian close his eyes, thrusting up into his hand.
Mumbo leans forward, squeezing the base of Grian’s dick as he starts to jack him off. With a simple flick and twist of the wrist, Grian is already back to whimpering and gasping for air, choking out Mumbo’s name as he grips the sheets.
His fingers delicately run over Grian’s shaft, tracing each vein with a slow but tight grip. The way he moves his fist over Grian is more curious than experienced, Grian notices, with the taller man moving with a deliberate grace of someone who’s admiring art. His fingers reach the head of Grian’s cock, pulling a whiny moan from the smaller as he bucks upwards. The pleasure is nearly overwhelming, maybe even overstimulating as static fills Grian’s eyes and ears, his orgasm begging to happen.
As soon as a finger presses into his tip, Grian comes into Mumbo’s fist; his seed spilling over the other’s large hands, dripping down and in between each of his fingers.
“Mumbo.” Grian moans, with stars in his vision and hips twitching.
The two sit in silence, both quietly recovering from all that had just happened, with Grian panting for air and Mumbo still transfixed with Grian’s body.
“Mumbo…” Grian softly speaks, breaking the silence. “Oh, Mumbo, you spoon…”
Mumbo pulls his hand back, not even looking towards Grian as he watches the Avian’s softening dick retreat into his cloaca. “Huh? What— What’d I do?” His voice slurs a small bit, snapping his head back towards the smaller, his eyelids drooping as tiredness had seemingly snuck up on him.
“Nothing.” Grian turns to face Mumbo, running a hand over his cheek. “You… You’re just a spoon. Like, in general.”
“Hm.” Mumbo hums, laying his head on Grian’s chest and curling his knees up to his chest. “Yeah…” His voice is muffled by Grian’s feathers, “Yeah, but I had fun… Gosh, I just can’t believe it…”
“Can’t believe what?”
“That we just— That we just did that, y’know?”
Grian pauses, recapping what just happened in his head. “Oh.” It finally clicks, “Oh, Mumbo, we just had sex.”
Mumbo snorts, cuddling up to Grian. “Yep.” He cocks his head upwards ever so slightly, staring at Grian with a tired smile. “I just— I just came in you, mate.”
“Gross.”
“It’s true… And now, we’re… now we’re cuddling…” Mumbo closes his eyes, huffing a comfortable sigh as he happily drifts off, satisfaction coursing through his body. “‘S nice. We should do this again..”
“Mhm. We should.”
“Yeah…” He yawns, “And, uhm, about the courting thing from earlier… Was— Was that real?”
Grian blushes, eyes widening in surprise at the question. “Oh, uh… I— I guess it was, yeah.”
“Oh, cool.” Mumbo grins, “Well, I… I accept, or what’ver I’m ‘posed to say…”
“Wait.” Grian’s heart skips a beat. “Really?”
“Yeah… I do quite… like you…” Mumbo trails off with a smile on his face, his breathing beginning to even as a soft snore sounds out.
Fingers card through the mustached man’s hair, guiding him into the land of sleep as Grian has to hold back joyful giggles. Did… Mumbo just say he wants to be his mate?
Yet, the overwhelming feeling that he’s forgetting something important claws at the back of his mind, forbidding him from joining Mumbo in slumber; so as he watches Mumbo’s little sleeping face, he searches his head for what he could have possibly forgotten.
…
…Oh no.
The ad. The Sahara ad!
He peels himself away from Mumbo, quietly jumping off of the bed and running to his communicator. His face blanches as he finds Ren had messaged him multiple times asking where he is, and in a rush, Grian picks back up the discarded clothes and pulls them on.
About halfway through redressing Grian realizes he had actually picked up Mumbo’s clothes, and he grumbles as he realizes he has no time to correct this, so he just has to commit. He did need to wear his own suit anyways, so this works just fine… and, embarrassingly enough, wearing Mumbo’s suit had always been a fantasy of his.
Stumbling over his new large pants, Grian takes off, soaring out of his base and towards Ren’s dojo.
————————
Grian flies into the dojo, saying hello to Ren with a wave as he lands. Ren is standing with an exasperated smile, the tail wagging behind him showing he’s not mad in the slightest.
“Grian, welcome back to the Dojo!” The dog hybrid greets, throwing out his arms in a welcoming gesture. He walks up to Grian, a smirk on his face as he adjusts his sunglasses. “Looks like you’ve stolen Mumbo’s suit!”
The Avian stammers, clicking his tongue as his face quickly reddens. He rubs at the back of his neck, forgetting the implications that come with wearing Mumbo’s trademark outfit. “Uh… Don't, uh, well—” He stutters, stupidly letting out whatever comes to his mind.
“Mumbo is now running around in his underwear—”
Wait, that’s not something he should be telling Ren. Pivot, Grian, pivot!
He interrupts himself, “I’m just borrowing his suit, ok?” He waves the dog off, forcing himself to roll his eyes as he glances away. “My one’s at… at the dry cleaners.”
Ren’s giggling to himself, much to Grian’s disappointment.
He continues to ramble, nonsensically defending himself. “So, just borrowing Mumbo’s suit— Doesn’t fit, y’know, he’s much more muscly than me.”
“Yeah?” Ren asks, a smile in his tone as he heartily laughs.
Grian responds with his own laugh, albeit much more nervous.
A beat of silence.
“Don’t— Don’t tell him I’ve been wearing his clothes. Please.”