... .

𝔗 𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔫𝔨 𝔦𝔱 𝔴𝔬𝔲𝔩𝔡 𝔟𝔢 𝔱𝔯𝔲𝔢... 𝔩𝔦𝔱𝔱𝔩𝔢 ℑ𝔢𝔯𝔷𝔬 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔒𝔪𝔢𝔤𝔞.

ℑ𝔥𝔢𝛾 𝔞𝔯𝔢 𝔣𝔯𝔬𝔪 𝔠𝔥𝔦𝔩𝔡𝔥𝔬𝔬𝔡 𝔱𝔬 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔢𝔫𝔡, 𝔲𝔫𝔱𝔦𝔩 𝔡𝔢𝔞𝔱𝔥 𝔰𝔢𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔞𝔱𝔢𝔰 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔪.

© Trevor Campbell

Pookster,,,

Roses — Terzomega

~part five of the Little Monster Series~

2.4k words ~ (light) smut

Days after his last encounter with Terzo, Omega finds himself in the ministry garden.

[parts]: one | previous

[author note:] early upload because the last part reached my goal of 50 likes! thank u everyone. for an early upload of part 6, get this one to 100 likes (i made it harder). otherwise, see you next wednesday ;)

—

“You need to get laid.”

The snickering jab came from Earth, who sizzled his cymbal for effect. Air laughed.

Omega’s tail flicked angrily. Having been warming up, he continued to practice with an edge of frustration, not giving Earth a reaction. His fingers climbed the guitar’s neck, quick as lightning, turning into an angry, shrill chromatic scale that left the guitar screaming its highest note through the crackling amp.

“He’s been so uptight,” River sighed, plucking a dark note from his bass.

“Ignoring us,” Air added with a random piano riff. “Too busy to say hi.”

“I’m right here,” Omega snapped. The four ghouls looked up from their instruments. The sound-proof practice room filled with dead air.

It was Alpha who finally spoke up. “You gotta admit it’s been a while, Megs.”

“Since what?”

“Since you got laid,” Earth interjected, hitting his bass drum a few times to punctuate his statement. 

River and Air burst into childish giggles. Omega’s brow furrowed with annoyance. Alpha laughed, a carefree sound, before shaking his head. “Nah. I mean, maybe, but nah. It’s you, man. When’s the last time we all hung out?”

“Last week,” Omega replied tersely.

“That was practice,” River said in his sullen voice. “You hardly spoke at all.”

“Yeah, like, really hung out. We used to do it all the time, right?” Alpha looked around at the other ghouls. There was a chorus of agreement.

“Why are we even practicing?” Omega huffed, suddenly frustrated. “There’s no new music and no tour date scheduled yet.”

More silence. Finally, Alpha said, “I mean, besides the obvious to keep ourselves fresh, it’s the only time we ever see you.”

“I’m busy.”

“We know, Megs. It’s not fair they make you do all that shit.”

“That’s why you gotta do your own shit, right?” Earth was relentless, laughing boisterously.

Air tilted his head, smiling suggestively. “If you need your dick sucked, you know I’m happy to do it.”

“We all want to suck your dick, Omega,” River sighed.

Omega, fed up, threw his guitar on the ground. The amp made a painful shriek that made everyone except Omega flinch.

“Megs–” Alpha tried.

Omega snarled at him, snapping his teeth. They locked eyes for a moment. Fiery red glaring into lightning purple. He growled, “We’re done here.”

He stomped out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

Every Sibling unlucky enough to see his terrifying rampage turned the other way, disappearing inside doorways, avoiding his path. There was no destination to his rageful stalking, his pacing of the Ministry. He just wanted to clear his head, to get away from the ghouls, to take one single moment of the day to himself, to think. 

At an intersection between halls, he felt a breeze gently blowing down an empty corridor, one that led to a glass door cracked open by a rock. The garden. The air was cool against his heated disposition. Refreshing. Inviting.

Omega detoured down the hall, slipping outside and carefully ensuring the door remained open. It automatically locked, and the only way to get back inside was to walk around the expansive compound through the front door.

The sky was cloudy blue, overcast but not quite raining. It was warm enough to be comfortable with a coat, though the breeze was cold and light, giving Omega goosebumps. He took deep breaths, smelling the air, calming himself. 

The plants around him were dying in the early fall, some still green, others withering away. The one plant that stood against the seasons was a dark red rose bush, though little remained of the blooms. He noticed, on the pathway, a handful of rose petals, which were bigger than any of the current flowers growing on the bush. Confused, he looked around, seeing another one further down the path. 

He walked forward, stepping around a hedge to see the very rose he had been searching for, clutched in the hands of the last man in the Ministry he wanted to see.

Cardinal Terzo was sat on an ornate concrete bench, looking down and spinning the thorny rose between his fingers. The bench was in a small clearing that looked over a garden of dead flowers, the back surrounded by hedges to create an apse in the walkway. Omega knew it was Primo’s favorite spot, and it surprised him that the old man was not there instead of Terzo. Of course, it was too cold to tend to the fauna in early autumn.

Terzo looked up at the intrusion. He looked sad. Not miserable, not pitiful, but simply sad. Then, he smiled at Omega. His frustration disappeared in an instant, leaving room to sense Terzo’s state of mind. Indeed, he was sad, mourning, his mind mulling over something in particular. But it was not all-consuming. There was a spark of happiness, and it came from seeing Omega.

“Hello, Omega ghoul. Care to join me?”

Omega hesitated. Suddenly, he felt as if he should not be there, and looked away. Terzo said, “Do not be frightened, ghoul. I do not bite.”

Omega relented, shuffling over to the bench and sitting on the edge. He stared at the collection of browning and dead flowers, wondering why Terzo was so welcoming of his presence. Since their tepid encounter days ago, they had yet to even see one another, let alone resolve the tension between them. 

“I was surprised to see this rose today,” Terzo said, breaking the silence. “The bush looks dead. Look how big and red it is.”

He held up the rose. Omega regarded it. 

“It’s dead now,” he pointed out.

“It was soon to die anyway.” Terzo held it to his nose, smelling it deeply. “Roses were mi mamma’s favorite. That is not a very uncommon favorite, is it?”

Omega shook his head.

“Many people love this flower. Yet I can only think of mamma when I see it. No one else will think of that, si? It is mi mamma’s flower. To you, you may look at this flower and think nothing of it. To me, mamma is what makes roses special.”

Omega’s tail flicked back and forth on the bench contentedly. He nodded along to Terzo’s musings. Surprisingly, this gentle atmosphere was soothing him from his outburst at the ghouls, and finally, he could calm down. 

“Is that why you’re out here?”

Terzo nodded. “Two years ago yesterday, I buried mi mamma with roses. I was hoping there would be one left in the garden.”

Omega thought to say something. To give his condolences, to ask how she died, to ask how he was doing, any number of things. Instead, he choked. And before he could think of anything of comfort, Terzo spoke again.

“What brings you to this garden, Omega ghoul?”

Relieved for the topic change, Omega sighed, shaking his head. “Nothing important. I’m taking a break.”

“From?”

“From… everything,” he chuckled slightly. “I’m exhausted.”

“Ah. It is hard, si? They say, eh, you work for Satan, then they say, eh, you must do all these things. It is like a business, not a church. Why, we are no better than the Catholics.”

Omega looked at Terzo, surprised. Though Omega may not have fully acknowledged them before, Terzo had just voiced the very feelings that he had been plagued by for far too long.

“Yeah,” he sighed, then laughed despite himself. “That’s it. I’m the only quintessence ghoul, and they give me too many responsibilities. Trivial, meaningless things anyone could handle, all because of my element.”

“You delegate then, si?” Terzo began pointing at invisible people. “You do this, and you do this. Lower your stress.”

“I don’t have the authority to do that.” Omega sighed.

“They expect too much out of you. They always do.”

Omega looked at Terzo, slowly plucking the petals from the rose. They naturally fell silent, both watching as dark petals drifted to the ground until the rose stem was barren.

“Now I have really killed it,” Terzo said, dropping the stem. He pushed his hair back, sitting up. “I can never help myself from ruining nice things.”

“It’s not always your fault.” Omega leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “That rose was dead anyway.”

“Si. But how much longer could it have lived?”

“Maybe it would have died today.”

“Or maybe it would have lived through winter,” Terzo chuckled. “But it does not matter. You cannot bring back a dead rose.”

Omega stared at Terzo. After a moment, Terzo noticed, catching his eye. Omega swallowed thickly, looking down at the remnants of the flower, breaking their eye contact.

“Maybe we can.”

“Hm?”

Omega rubbed his hands together a few times, his fingers suddenly feeling cold with the breeze. He chastised himself for feeling so nervous. He looked at Terzo again.

The words escaped his mind like air from a deflating balloon. All that was left was his eyes, rimmed by black, always seeing through him, piercing him like arrows. And his lips. One plump pink, one black. An unsettling appearance, but one that Omega had grown to long for. 

Terzo reached up to take off Omega’s mask. He let him.

There was no telling who leaned in first, who initiated the kiss that followed. Only that there was one. One that both had been craving for some time. And it was unlike any they had shared before; indeed, for they had rarely kissed at all. When they did, it was rough, nasty, followed by choking or spitting or both. Never for the sake of being kissed but for the heat of dark passion. But on this concrete bench in the Ministry garden, Omega felt the gentle nature of this kiss, and it scared him. This was not how they were. This was not hatred. This was not lust.

Omega pulled away first. 

Terzo said, “Omega—”

“I want to revisit our agreement,” Omega interrupted, clearing his throat, too terrified of what Terzo would say to let him finish.

Terzo paused. “You want to fuck me again, mostriciatto?” 

Omega gripped the edge of the bench, annoyed at how he always said things like that just to make him mad. “Yes,” he replied through gritted teeth.

“Why did we stop before?”

“It…” Caught off guard, Omega failed to answer right away, his mouth agape like a fool, hesitating. “Your drinking.”

“Eh, you catch me after a party, and you think I drink too much? I do not drink today, do I?”

“You always did when we had sex.”

Now, it was Terzo’s turn to be caught off guard. He shook his head, shrugging. “Wine makes me horny.”

“If we continue doing this, I don’t want you to drink all the time. It increases the risk of getting caught,” he added quickly.

“Fine.” He held up his hands. “I will be responsible. I won’t quit cold poultry, but I will do my best. Happy?”

Being happy was a complicated feat. Omega was surprised at how happy he was at that moment, yet what lingered in the back of his mind was far from the excitement he felt now. It made him want to quell the happiness, chalk it up to being horny, and forget the ways Terzo’s smile made him feel.

Omega nodded slowly. Terzo reached up to touch his face.

“Shall we reinstate the agreement now or later?”

Omega pointedly avoided turning his head to Terzo’s touch, glaring at a dead leaf across the garden instead. “I’m busy until evening.”

Terzo tutted. He got up to stand in front of him, casually running his arms along his shoulders. He leaned over to kiss his jaw. He murmured lowly, “As I recall, you still have one more hour of practice.”

Omega wondered when Terzo found out his schedule, or when he became such a convincing man.

He tilted his head to meet Terzo’s, reuniting once more in a salacious lip lock. His arms slipped around his waist, pressing their bodies close, Terzo now standing between his legs. His hands ran along Omega’s back, lightly scratching, slipping up to tangle his fingers in Omega’s hair. Omega gripped his ass with his big hands, slipping one down his pants just to feel the flesh. Terzo released a gentle groan.

Omega suddenly lifted Terzo, then carefully set him on the concrete bench, lying down. He knelt over him, one leg on the ground to balance, kissing fiercely. Terzo held on to him, still playing with his hair and face with his fingers, splitting his legs apart greedily. Omega slid his hand down his chest, stomach, resting comfortably on the curve of his bulge. He thumbed the length of it, tight in his pants, making him moan lightly.

Then Omega heard something, which made him stop dead in his tracks. The crunch of a dead leaf. He raised his head, his eyes darting around them.

“Mostriciatto—”

Omega shushed him. He walked away from the bench, checking the path that led to the door. Not a soul in sight. The door was still ajar. Omega returned to Terzo.

“I thought I heard someone,” he said, tense.

“There is nobody around, ghoul; you worry too much.”

Omega looked at Terzo, who was disheveled and clearly begging for more. As much as he wanted to relent, to give in to his feral desire to rip into him in the garden, he was too concerned with getting caught, and the moment had passed.

“It’s too risky out here.” Omega pinched the bridge of his nose. “I don’t know why we didn’t think about this.”

“We are horny,” Terzo said helpfully.

Omega sighed. “I should get back to work.”

“You have always been a cockblock, ghoul,” Terzo mumbled bitterly, standing to readjust his pants and fix his hair.

Omega glowered at him. “You think I’m not frustrated?”

“I hope you are,” Terzo grinned. “Then you will treat me not-so-nice later tonight.”

Omega crossed his arms. “I’ll be at your quarters when I’m finished.”

“Oh, Omega, do not finish before you see me. It will not be as fun,” Terzo winked at him. He slapped Omega’s ass on his way out, causing him to jump in surprise. Omega’s eyebrows furrowed, embarrassed, angry that he was embarrassed, and glared at Terzo as he walked up the path and disappeared inside the Ministry.

[parts]: one | previous

Maq Brown, Charlotte, 05.11.2016

On the first GIF, he moves so smoothly as if he’s sitting on... a dick. I imagine him with omega.

I fold so fast for the Terzummy 🥵🥵💜