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Title: Grendel
Pairing:  Greed-ler/Once-ler (Oncest)
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Not mine
Word Count: 794
Summary: The Greed-ler is more monster than man, a devil in a sharp green suit. Once-ler hates him, but he needs him all the same.
Warnings: The fic skitters into the horror genre, so fair warning
Notes: Written for all the perverts over at plus4chan's /coq/ board


In the process of biggering something primal split in him, irreplaceable and permanently broken. It was fuzzy, the memory--he could recall pain, sharp and hot, and then...nothing. Emptiness.

Later, one of the servants would tell him the whole story. How he had dropped to the floor, spitting and screaming. How his staff crowded around him, how they could only watch as he jack-knifed on the cold marble floor of his office, face so contorted in pain they feared it was all but certain his heart would burst and he would die, a trembling wreck. How his eyes had rolled back into his head and he vomited a thick, green bile before stilling completely.

How the vomit moved.

The gathered crowd of employees watched, silent as the grave, while it grew, morphed, took shape in front of their very eyes. Slime slipped away to reveal pale, clear skin; a shock of black hair; bright eyes and clear white teeth. The thing was human, a naked mirror of the man crumpled on the floor. It smiled. What happened next remained a mystery, as only one man--the servant--had made it out of the room. When pressed for details, he would clam up, and eventually, Once-ler stopped asking.

It didn't matter anymore.

The thing was a monster, that much was clear. Once-ler took to calling him Greed-ler, at first behind his back but once in a rage he spit out the name and it laughed. Greed-ler became official. He kept Once-ler locked away, sealed in his bedroom--their bedroom, now. He had books in the room, but no sewing needles, out of fear for his safety. Servants would bring him food and water, but otherwise he was left alone while Greed-ler ran the company, and the entire time the men were apart, Once-ler was in pain. He had noticed it the first day, a sort of dull ache in the hollow of his stomach; it grew and grew as the hours ticked by, and by the time Greed-ler reappeared in the Once-ler's plush, luxurious prison, the poor man was curled into himself on the floor, his thin frame wracked with sobs.

Greed-ler snorted. "Get up, idiot, you're embarrassing us." And when his gloved hand wrapped around Once-ler's skinny arm, he knew; the pain ceased the moment they touched, and he could not help it--he had hurt so much--he pulled forward. Green arms encircled him eagerly. Once-ler allowed himself to be guided to the bed, and the two men collapsed there, curled around each other in perfect symmetry.

They fucked that night. And every night after. It was shameful, the way Once-ler would beg for it, pleading for the other man to touch him, it hurts without you, please please please. Greed-ler would laugh in his strange way, all teeth and no real mirth, and he would oblige his double. Greed-ler would bend him over the bed and take him hard, and as the pain ebbed away, Once-ler would find himself moaning like a whore, trying to maintain the thread of contact as long as he could.

Months passed, and the creature was changing. Not very noticeably, but Once-ler knew every inch of him, and he saw how Greed-ler's teeth seemed to sharpen and his pupils seemed to slit in the bright midday light. The servants let slip that he only ate raw meat, now. How it chilled them, bone deep, when he came in the room.

The sex grew more violent. Greed-ler would claw at him, great jagged marks down his back and on his thighs. It was rough before, but the way Greed-ler would grip his hair and split him open had an edge of madness to it, now, something primeval that wasn't quite there before. They fucked for hours, so long that Once-ler could barely stand up the next day. He had protested, once; he ended up with Greed-ler's cock in his mouth and a hand around his throat. He didn't complain again.

And then one night, Greed-ler took him face-to-face. It was sweet, tender even, the way he was so gentle with Once-ler, so careful not to hurt him. They fucked slowly, languidly, as if in a trance. Greed-ler kissed him as he spent himself, a soft kiss without the barest hint of violence. Shyly, he smiled at Once-ler. "I think we were meant to be together," he sighed. "You and me, beanpole." Despite himself, Once-ler smiled back. Gloved hands came up to his head and stroked his black hair. Once-ler's eyes fluttered close.

He had a smile on his face when Greed-ler snapped his neck. Sharp teeth rent holes in pale flesh, and soon Once-ler was no more than a pile of bones.

Whole once more, Greed-ler slept.


November 2013

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