Oh dear Satan, that's gae

This was fun to write.

I'm not sure how to explain this to my followers who don't know much about Mythos ships but uh. Here is some rough making out with Randolph Carter and the closest thing to a Big Bad the Mythos has, the bastard himself, Nyarlathotep.

Yes this is canon at some point in the future of PSI

Two hands gripped the front of his shirt. His back hit the wall. He cried out, but any other sound he could have made died against the other's lips. Carter closed his eyes. His hands gripped the man's upper arms, nails digging into the crisp white shirt sleeves. The other's hands were everywhere, as if still in disbelief of his presence.

He shared that disbelief. He'd been a fool to return to Arkham. He'd walked right into the plans of the Crawling Chaos, in his arrogance believing he'd see any such things long before they arrived.

He'd underestimated Nyarlathotep. Many had before him. Most… he doubted were kissed so well for it.

The last time they'd done this, before his rebirth, before escaping the outer god's obsession, he'd been in his small home, waking from unsettling dreams to a figure standing over his bed. He'd been able to brush the encounter off as another dream, a strange secret he could never tell a soul. But this wasn't a dream.

Those lips that now moved from his mouth to bite at his neck, the hands that ripped at his clothes, were very, very real.

"I win, Carter," Nyarlathotep whispered against his skin. "Let's see you escape me this time."

As their bodies tumbled into an unfamiliar bed, Carter wondered if he'd want to.

- since this is technically PSI related, tag list under the cut