You kiss him hungrily, pushing all of your issues to the side and focusing completely on him. His smooth, almost slimy, gray skin. His horns. His heavily greased hair and the dual scars on his forehead. His tall and lanky and slightly scrawny body, pressing up against you and his hard, slightly claw-like fingernails clutching at your hair.
You move your face away enough that you can look at him completely. With all his shortcomings personality-wise, Cronus Ampora is not an ugly troll. He's scrawny, and that's about it. He looks like he wants to say a lot, he has since you first pulled him into this nice little corner between two troll houses, but he's uncharacteristically quiet.
"What's wrong?" you ask. He shakes his head and pull your head toward him for another kiss. You shake him off, slightly annoyed. "Seriously, Cronus, what's going on?"
He sighs. "I don't really want to talk about it, my problems are some boring shit anyway, can we please not? Especially not where anyone can hear us?"
"Then let's go back to your place and we can talk about it there."
He looks a little nervous, and you want to kiss him and tell him that it'll be okay, you don't have to talk about these things, you can just watch Grease or some other movie like that.
"I... that's weird, though," he says. He sees you looking at him and averts his gaze, talking faster. "I know that humans don't have moirails, they just all kind of do that sort of thing, and I really want to try and do things the human way, but it's still weird, talking to my matesprite about deep stuff."
You don't want to force him into anything, especially something that goes against the way he was brought up, but it is really bothering you... well, if it's that important, you'll figure it out soon enough, right? And if it was urgent, he'd tell you. It could just be some weird troll thing. You shouldn't think about it. Or, rather, you should pretend not to think about it so that you can focus on him at the present moment.
He looks anxious. You kiss him quickly. "Don't worry about it," you say. "But you can talk to me whenever you need to, alright? Assuming I'm here."
"Yeah," he says, and for once, he doesn't try to turn the kiss into something more. He just leans into you, clutching you and burying his face in the crook of your neck. "I can figure it out. 'S stupid anyway."
You wrap your arms around him, rubbing his back with your thumbs. You don't say anything. Neither of you do, for a while. Eventually he pulls away, his usual expression carefully arranged on his face. "Ready to go back to my hive?" he asks, grinning. You laugh a little. He grabs onto your hand and tugs you out of your little corner. You let go of his hand immediately and wrap an arm around his waist, pulling him as close to you as the two of you can get without falling over. He's happy. You make him happy and goddam if it isn't the best feeling in the world.
It's quiet out, a few alternate version trolls discussing things but for the most part ignoring the two of you. You can tell by the way that Cronus stiffens whenever the two of you pass someone he's waiting for a comment or a laugh or something along that line, but it never happens. You like it better this way. You're able to forget the rest of the world. Your problems, his problems, the problems of the universe beyond this little sanctuary, which, by the way, could be destroyed by Lord English at any time, wiping out Cronus Ampora and the rest of the dead trolls inside, they don't matter in moments like these. They'll always be at the back of your mind, of course, nagging you, poking at your brain and telling it to forget this stupid greaserfish and just get back to saving the world, but for a few minutes, you can forget them.
By the time you get back to his hive, Cronus is totally back to his normal self. As soon as you step over that threshold and the door is closed, he's kissing you. You kiss him back, backing him into what seems like a kitchen. You don't actually give a fuck at this point where you are. He's kissing you and your hands are under his shirt, running lightly over his gills and eliciting shudders and small, breathy moans. He tugs at your godtier hood, and you get the memo right away, taking a small break to get out of your shirt and let him marvel at your physique. He's ogling you, there's always that small moment between you taking off your shirt and the two of you picking it back up again where his eyes slide over your chest, your shoulders, your arms, taking in every detail, every muscle, every freckle.
You kiss him, up against the refrigerator or the troll equivalent thereof, and move your hands from his gills to his pants. You flick the button open with minimal difficulties. He apparently realizes what you're doing and breathes in a deep breath, a breath that turns into a half-moan when you pull his pants (no underwear, as usual) down, exposing his bulge. It's an alien, almost animalistic but somehow awesome thing, searching out another reproductive organ and curling around anything it can find. You let it curl around your hand, running a finger along the bottom of it. He whines, deep in the back of his throat, and wraps his arms around your neck for support. He's shaking, whimpering and moaning and whining as you let his bulge wrap around your hand and explore the new territory, using your fingers to tease and rub and pleasure it. He presses his face into your collarbone, lips stretched so tight against his teeth you can feel them against your skin.
"D-dirk," he whimpers. "Please, please now."
One of his hands makes its way from your neck to your pantaloons, yanking them down, along with your boxers. He has a hell of an easier time getting them off than you did with his jeans. His bulge peels itself away from your hand, making its way to your dick, along with his hand, which is guiding your crotch toward his. You pull his shirt up over his head, discarding it and now the both of you are completely naked, apart from your shades.
He pulls your shades off at that moment, shoving them onto a counter and kissing you, tongue slipping into your mouth with the talent that you haven't experienced anywhere else. His hand is still down by your crotches, manipulating his bulge a little and working at getting your dick closer to his nook. You want to. You really want to fuck him right now, and if you don't you think that you might go crazy.
You wrap your arms around him and lift him up, his back sliding against the smooth door of the fridge. He wraps his legs around your waist and somehow he's made it so that the two of you are perfectly positioned to finally do it.
You take it. You thrust your dick, already slippery from his bulge doing its thing, into his nook and he lets out a shriek like no other. You're a little afraid you hurt him. You've never done this before, but it did go in incredibly easy, maybe it's an alien thing, but maybe it's also an alien thing that it hurts. Should you have done that?
He rocks against you, making enough noise to bring everyone in the next three dreambubbles toward you. You push him further into the fridge, letting your tongue feather over the gills on his neck. He's shuddering and clutching your back and your hip and his heels are pushing into your back and then it's over.
You don't know how to explain how you know it's over, it just seems to be. He knows it, too, because he untangles his legs from around you and you take a step back. You feel the aching need to get the problem of your dick nearly bursting taken care of, and he seems to know what you're thinking, because he drops to his knees.
You really don't know how you got this lucky.
The blowjob doesn't last as long this time, but that's your fault, for coming right away.
"I could go for a shower," he mumbles, standing up and leaning against you. "But I bet you could too."
"Hell, let's take one together," you say, pressing a kiss to his forehead. You're exhausted, but you can't imagine crawling into bed in this state, even if it is dreambubble bed.
Come to think of it, shouldn't you be able to just think yourself clean?
But that's not fun. And if you point that out, then you won't be able to shower with Cronus, which is sounding better and better by the second.
well no shenanigans lasted about two or three days a personal record