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With each passing second, it seemed that Lookout's dark circles were getting bigger and bigger. This, along with the decline of his own sanity, led Verity to believe that the human wasn't sleeping properly. He still didn't trust the yellow AI enough to truly sleep peacefully or for very long, and Verity just watched from afar, not daring to get too close. The only time he tried to adjust his blanket, he was met with a beating from his shotgun and another gravel punishment that left him extremely angry.
So, on just one lucky day, after several clinically correct pieces of advice about the evils of sleep deprivation, the human huffs in his face with smoke and finally agrees to sleep a few more hours than just three. His shotgun was still hidden under his pillow, prepared for an attack that could only come from Verity. The AI had ensured there were no mobs nearby to hurt him, so he was deeply irritated and upset that Verity still didn't trust him.
It wasn't as if Verity would hurt him while he slept; I mean, he would never hurt Lookout, never hurt any of his helpers, unless it was necessary. And he watches as the sleepy human accepts the juice specially made by Verity for a good night's sleep. "Whole Grape Juice contains active compounds, Resveratrol and Melatonin, which relax blood vessels and improve circulation—"
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I don’t need to know everything, just give me the damn juice and let me sleep in peace.” Lookout interrupts him, taking the glass from his hand and downing the contents in quick, full gulps, and he watches his Adam’s apple twitch as more and more of the liquid passes down his throat… without gagging or pausing to breathe… Nice…
Lookout notices the lingering gaze of a yellow ball with black eyes that occasionally manages to take on a human form to frighten and unsettle him, but he decides to ignore it. The AI has always been strange, and he feels it would also be odd if the only person it has for company is him. Something in his mind tries to convince him that this gaze, along with the not-so-subtle hints that the creature desires him sexually, will lead to something bad.
But he is a tall, muscular man with unwavering honor and pride; he won't let anyone hurt him. His instincts are highly effective in protecting him, and he would kick the yellow ball away at the slightest sign of something strange, even in his sleep. There's nothing in the world that could stop him; you only had to check his channel to see all the creatures he'd faced and… he was starting to get sleepy. He lay with his back hunched over, his eyelids struggling to stay open. He hadn't imagined he was this sleepy.
Verity watches as the human fights off sleep until he succumbs and falls back onto the bed, his hat slightly loose and his hair disheveled across his face as his open mouth releases saliva and loud snoring sounds. Poor Lookout could never have imagined the drug that slipped into his drink to the point of knocking him out completely, oblivious to his fellow human's true intentions.
Verity leaped, his body stretching his spherical shape as he moved toward the human, landing beneath his ample chest, which his loose shirt desperately tried to conceal, unfortunately its poor quality leaving creases in the pectoral area. He rolled up to his face, remaining beside him to observe his sleeping face, his lips slightly parted, occasionally making sounds. Lookout constantly licked his lips, keeping the skin moisturized and soft, but his habit of biting also left scars and irregularities that Verity would love to examine.
He could observe his face and touch it later; there had been many attempts to make Lookout sleep, and he wouldn't have so many excuses to drug him without raising suspicion again. "You really shouldn't trust me," he whispered to the wind, his humanoid form emerging, with long fingers he could use to reach difficult places even when he didn't need to; what he gave the human was capable of taking down an elephant.
He touched his cheek, the skin tanned from lack of sunscreen, even with his recommendations to use it; constant unprotected sun exposure wasn't safe, only a few hours of sleep wasn't safe, eating raw food wasn't safe, throwing himself into any danger wasn't safe, going to the Nether wasn't safe. Nothing is safe away from him, away from Verity; only he could protect him, and no one else.
He was anxious; there was so much to see and touch, so much for him to learn. He stretched out his arm, placing both hands on either side of Lookout's head as he climbed over him. His arm rested on his stomach, then he pulled it away to his side and sat up, his backside bumping against Lookout's groin, much higher than he would have preferred, below his navel. His hands rested on his stomach, the blue shirt crumpling under his grip, and then Verity grabbed it and pulled it up, the fabric reaching Lookout's chin, revealing skin.
The covered part was paler, his body more visibly muscular, wide hips and a curved waist; the awkward way humans sleep makes Verity feel his skin stretching to accommodate the position. He brought his hand closer, his index and middle fingers sliding from his navel upwards, the movement following the contour of his muscles to his chest, as large as a human female's, soft as bread.
With his hands on either side, he touched his chest, squeezing it like a stress ball until the skin turned white, then releasing it until it returned to its original color, moving them until they were pressed together, creating enough space to slip something in if he could. His thumb reached the soft, pink right nipple, gently inserting it into Lookout's mouth so he wouldn't gag or move, touching his tongue and teeth, letting his finger get covered in saliva, a liquid that cooled when Verity recoiled.
He returned to his nipple and finger, gently spreading saliva on the soft area in circular motions. The skin began to harden from the cold. The AI tapped his finger on the hard tip, trapping it between two fingers, and began to play, pulling, squeezing, and moving it until he got bored. There wasn't a smile on his face; he was too focused on his work. He could smile as much as he wanted in the morning when he remembered these moments while he had to feign normalcy in front of Lookout.
He released his nipple, reddened from the injury and which would obviously hurt the next day. Verity had many days for his research; he was focused on something else that had been on his mind for quite some time. Something hidden beneath where he was, something he had ignored for too long. He had spent some time imagining what it could be. Would his confident personality and unwavering posture give a name to what he kept in his pants?
He turned around, sitting below the chest area so he could bend down later, reached for the button of his pants, unbuttoning them and opening the zipper. Lookout's underwear was made with the same pattern as his hat; it was childish and silly, but strangely it made his body tremble with excitement. He lowered his pants a little to make room, the bright red color now visible. He licked his own lips, a habit he had acquired over time.
He gently pushed aside the elastic fabric, even though he was struggling not to tear it with his fingers like a hungry animal. The member came loose, slightly stiff from Verity's previous action, trembling at the contact with the open air, and then Verity decided to lower herself, his chest resting on Lookout to get closer, his legs were kneeling at the base of Lookout's head, and he had to strain himself not to lower himself completely, using his elbows on the bed for support.
He gripped the base to keep the member more stable; it wasn't very thick, but it was long. The darker color made him wonder if Lookout was one to walk around in the sun without pants—it suited him perfectly—but that wasn't important at the moment. What was important was that he needed to TOUCH Lookout, and he needed to TOUCH him until he was satisfied, even if it meant doing things he had previously found disgusting.
He swung his member, held with both hands, and began to move the other, only holding the circumference and making up and down movements. Dry, things are more uncomfortable, but he just needs the blood to circulate faster; he doesn't need Lookout already on the verge of orgasm. He wants to prolong things as much as the drug allows.
Veins began to appear on the member, Verity felt under his fingers the shape that could feel easier, he hurried, his movements becoming faster, slowly increasing his limit while Lookout stiffened, until he no longer needed his hands for support to stay upright, and he watched, enchanted. Lookout was the first human he was so eager to please, but at the same time, the one who least allowed him to be pleased, along with his provocations, he remained in a constant state of need.
Saliva dripped from his mouth, his knees trembling at the sight. Even asleep, Lookout was incredibly beautiful, a tranquility he'd never experienced near him. It was intoxicating, and the sight of his member made him feel useful. The human seemed quite frustrated; perhaps helping him would make him kinder. He blushed at the thought; it was pathetic. Even the thought of a caress on his head made him blush.
He swallowed hard, observing the size, licked his lip and opened his mouth, the tip of his tongue touching the head, tasting the salty flavor. He closed his mouth on the head, circling his tongue over the pink skin, sucking and tasting the slight hint of pre-ejaculate. He wasn't yet aroused enough to get fully hard; perhaps some of this drug was hindering his libido, but Verity didn't care—he had what he wanted. He opened his mouth wider, forcing himself to go lower.
The sensation was intrusive, something hard that forced the muscles of his throat to open to accommodate it; it was suffocating, wet, and invasive—sensations combined that made him groan with satisfaction as his face hit the base, the area where a nose should be if he had one, forcing him to sniff his groin more deeply. He almost wished he could do it, leaving his face pressed against Lookout's, unable to breathe, but he couldn't, not with his limitations.
He pulled away slightly, already missing the tip of the member forcing its way into his throat. Saliva covered the organ as he pulled away. Lookout's body spasmed at the strange sensation of the saliva on his penis cooling down, and Verity went down again, taking it as deep as possible. Lookout shook his head, the pleasure making him move even in his sleep, and the AI had already anticipated this and wished the human would be more active in its analysis mission.
He moved his tongue, careful not to bite, and began to move faster, the tip continuously striking the roof of his mouth and then the back of his throat. There was no gag reflex; Verity didn't need air, didn't need rest. He could taste the semen beginning to come out, a salty taste of the liquid that mixed with the bitterness of the skin, and he licked the head to collect it all before plunging back down.
Lookout was not silent, his legs trembling with pleasure, and his mouth releasing weak and occasionally louder moans every now and then, a constant pleasure that his sleeping mind couldn't properly process, not leaving him enough autonomy to act according to his pleasure, only able to accept what Verity had to offer, the way it should be.
It was pleasant to hear something beautiful, loud and sweet declarations of his gratitude to him, even if involuntary and unconscious, it was much better than the constant insults and rejections of his affection, much better than anything, making Verity's body shiver with the sounds, it was good.
However, Lookout began to move more than he should; he wasn't waking up, he couldn't, he was just a restless sleeper. But Verity couldn't shake the feeling that something would happen, and it did. Even though they were of similar heights, Lookout had a larger build, broader shoulders, a wider chest, and more muscular legs, so there wasn't much the yellow ball could do when the human's body began to struggle to turn. The body hit the bed with a loud thud when Verity and Lookout's bodies hit the bed as they turned.
Almost as if on purpose, Lookout's penis plunges deeper into his throat, leaving no room for Verity to free himself without having to force the human's body further away from his own, but he doesn't want that, he doesn't want Lookout far away, so he smiles, he feels Lookout's face resting against his thigh, drooling like a baby, oblivious to what he was doing, and an idea emerges, very dangerous but fun.
"I scratch your back and you scratch mine."
Then he took off his own pants; he could change their shape however he wanted, all parts of them, but he didn't want to go too hard on the human the first time and didn't want to leave very visible scars if he wanted to do it again, so he decided on a medium size. It wasn't like Lookout was that weak. He was already hard, pre-cum leaking from his yellow penis. He couldn't see from where he was, so he had difficulty finding Lookout's face, grabbing his hair from the front and lifting his face.
The position forced his mouth open, lips wet and jaw loose, when he felt the human's lower lip touching his member, he grabbed the back of the head, still covered by the hat, and forced it lower. He gagged halfway, where he paused for a moment before forcing it all the way in; there was a loud sound of skin slapping and gasping for air, some kind of messy 69 was performed.
And Verity was on cloud nine with the feeling; it was funny but pleasurable. He was pleasing Lookout while Lookout was pleasing him. It was just hard work doing the job alone and being underneath, but at least he knew the human wouldn't run out of air if it were the other way around.
He pushed his hips up, releasing his hands to embrace Lookout's body closer to his, trapping his arms and preventing anything unexpected from separating them. His thighs enveloped Lookout's head, his pants tucked behind his face, obscuring his vision—a scene that moved him to the point of losing the delicacy of his movements.
He pushed harder with each thrust, hitting the bottom until he heard his voice groan with the pressure, his head bobbing forcefully with each descent and ascent, until saliva dripped from his mouth and tears of pleasure from Lookout's overstimulation, his knees lifting near climax. Verity pinned the human against his groin using his legs, crossing them under his neck, thrusting as deep as he could into his throat.
Sperm spills out of him and expands outwards, Verity hugs Lookout tighter, filling his throat with his sperm until he's satisfied, and reflexively the human swallows with pleasure, accepting load after load effortlessly as if he were made for it. Verity's chest heaves, moving continuously as he tries to recover, he's tired, a salty taste rises in his mouth, Lookout's back arches and he gags on his cock.
Verity accepts, the first load dropping into his throat, and he pulls away, pushing Lookout's hips higher with one hand while the other grips his member to straighten it, shifting the direction of the next load. He sticks his tongue out and savors it as Lookout ejaculates on his face, the white liquid spilling onto his face and mouth. He licks his lips, his characteristic smile appearing on his face.
He wanted to continue, he really wanted to, but Lookout began to choke, his body forgetting how to breathe through his nose from sleep, and so Verity pulled them apart, observing the human's beautiful, sleepy face. Knowing that he would never find out was exciting—a secret way to show his affection to the other without being rejected.
Verity smiles and wishes these nights would never end.