c h a p t e r. 23

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"Could it be that desire for a good thing has become a bad thing because that desire has become a ruling thing?-Paul David Tripp

chapter 23

Jazz was honestly enjoying the fuck out of himself at the moment.

For the most part of the morning, he watched Castor move from row after row in the field of strawberries which grew in the middle of the apple orchard on the west wing of his estate and it was the cutest thing, seeing his boyfriend practically drown himself in strawberries and being so happy.

He just plainly liked to watch the star be happy too, and know he was his boyfriend.

Right now, though, after Castor filled up all the jars with strawberries but wasn't done eating them, they were sitting between the rows and just talking.

"I'm so jealous that you- -berries- -grew up here." He admitted, popping a smaller strawberry into his mouth. Jazz couldn't help but to watch the way the light red juice travelled over his lips, wanting to taste them as the star lowly groaned from the back of his throat. "These are fucking great."

Castor looked like, honest to fucking hell, a cat who rolled around in catnip for just a little too long, all wide eyed and wiggly.

But he was happy and it was cute.

"Oh?" Jazz grins, all dimples and a dark happiness elighting his own tone-- it now too loud to ignore. "Can I try it?"

Nodding and not knowing the sudden confidence boost that the musician has, Castor props himself up onto his knees, scooching closer to where he was sitting and holding out a ripe, sweet looking strawberry.

But he doesn't quite want it like that.

Instead of taking it, Jazz lightly grips the god's hips in both of his hands and pulls him closer, both the same height now, with him leaning back slightly and the celestial propped up-- and kisses him.

It was enough of a surprise that Castor gasped into his mouth and the musician smoothly moved their lips together, still soft but now slightly sticky with juice and sweet.

But how much sweeter is his God, who had been eaten his form of a divine offering, now?

"Hmm," Jazz hums, the sound catching between their lips and parting them, allowing him to deepen the kiss. Allowing his tongue to wrap around his star's, he realizes that the strawberries were mixed with Castor's usual-- and he realizes he likes strawberries a whole lot better now.

It was addictive, how his god invaded all his senses, how he slowly only felt him-- only felt the man he loved against his body, against his fingertips, their tongues dancing and lips sliding and heart pounding.

Castor might be a God, but this was far from a sacrifice.

His fingers dung into Jazz's hair, the other hand coming up to cup the back of his neck-- Cas was claiming him, a growl bubbling up his chest and hands tightening as he pulled him even closer.

It felt ethereal, just like the color of his voice.

The celestial is all the colors of green, he's safe and warm and Jazz must be viridescent, because there's no way to describe it other than that.

Pulling back for air and needing a break from the intense feeling curling in his stomach and running heat up and down his body, from the top of his spine to the tip of his toes, Jazz pulled back and released a breathless, small groan as Castor pecked his lips one last time.

"You're right," He said, blinking up at lightning-strike gray eyes half-dazed and dizzy with pleasure. "Those are really good."

Castor smirks, "Want to try them again?"

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