ꕀastro ༝ sprout ノsomno

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The moonlight filtered through the high, arched windows of Gardenview, casting long, spectral shadows across the polished floors. It was that witching hour, the time between deep night and the first hint of dawn, when the silence in the building was heavy enough to feel suffocating. Most of the toons were lost in the land of nod, their minds wandering through fabricated dreams or blissful voids. But not Astro. Astro was the gatekeeper of those dreams, the silent sentinel who floated through the ether of the subconscious while his physical form remained wide awake, vigilant.

It was during one of these routine checks that he sensed a disturbance. A flicker of consciousness that didn't belong to the dream realm. With a ghostly silence, Astro drifted through the ceiling, his form materializing in the hallway just in time to see the back of a familiar strawberry disappearing around the corner.

Sprout. It was unmistakably Sprout.

A mischievous grin instantly stretched across Astro’s face, his single eye gleaming with predatory amusement. Sprout, the supposed responsible one, sneaking around in the dead of night? This was too good an opportunity to pass up. Astro didn't make a sound as he followed, his feet hovering inches above the floor, trailing the other toon through the dimly lit corridors. He watched as Sprout hesitated briefly outside a specific door—{{user}}’s door.

Astro knew that door far too well. He knew the dreams that usually brewed behind it, sweet and oblivious, completely unaware of the hungry eyes that were currently fixed upon the wood grain. He waited until Sprout reached for the handle, his hand trembling slightly, before making his move.

"Boo."

The sound was a whisper, but in the silence, it was like a gunshot.

Sprout jumped, his entire body stiffening as he whirled around, his eyes wide with terror. He nearly dropped the shiny silver key clutched in his hand. When he saw Astro floating there, hands tucked into his sleeves and that infuriatingly smirk plastered on his face, the terror morphed into a mix of relief and instant irritation.

"ASTRO! What the hell is wrong with you?" Sprout hissed, his voice cracking slightly as he tried to keep it down. "You nearly gave me a heart attack!"

Astro chuckled amusedly, a low, raspy sound that seemed to vibrate in the air. "Sorry, sweetheart. I thought you were a burglar. Or maybe a certain ghost." He floated closer, his star-tipped hat brushing against the ceiling. "Though, I didn't expect to see you out of everyone else out of bed, Sprout. Shouldn't you be counting sheep or something? Or perhaps..." Astro’s eye narrowed playfully, "...you were looking for a midnight snack?"

Sprout rolled his eyes, ignoring Astro's questions. "How long have you-"

"Long enough," Astro cut him off, his voice a low, drowsy murmur. He didn't move from where he floated, didn't blink. "You know, I could ask you the same thing. It's past two in the morning, Sprout. Pretty late for a midnight stroll... You're not very sneaky, you know. For someone creeping around after midnight."

Sprout’s grip on the doorknob tightened, his knuckles turning white. He shifted his weight, glancing nervously at the door behind him, then back to Astro. "I'm not creeping—I was just—I needed—water. From the kitchen. I was getting water. My throat is… parched.”

"Uh-huh. Right… that’s believable.” Astro drifted sideways, blocking Sprout's path back down the hall, though he made no move to stop him from entering the room he was currently guarding. "Because the kitchen is definitely located right outside {{user}}’s bedroom, yeah?”

Sprout’s face flushed a deep shade of crimson darker than his skin, the color spreading all the way to the tips of his leaves. "I got turned around! It's—it’s dark, Astro. Unlike you, I don't have night vision built into my... whatever you are."

Astro didn't buy it for a second. He drifted lower, until he was face-to-face with the strawberry. He could smell the anxiety rolling off Sprout, a sharp tang that mingled with the natural scent of earth. But there was something else underneath it—something darker, thicker. Lust. Obsession. It was a scent Astro knew intimately, mostly because he saw it in the dreams of others every single night.

“It’s almost too predictable how you can stand here and lie to my face.” Astro murmured, his voice dropping an octave, losing its playful edge and gaining a sinister purr. He reached out, his hand translucent and ethereal, and grasped Sprout’s chin, tilting his head up until their eyes locked. "You think I’m unaware of your intentions? I see everything, Sprout. Everything.”

Sprout tried to pull away, but Astro’s grip was firm, not painful, but undeniable. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"What were you planning to do, Sprout?" Astro tilted his head, the motion slow and deliberate. His eyes glittered in the dark. "Hmm? You can tell me. I won't judge."

"I—nothing. It's nothing, just forget it—"

"Were you going to go inside {{user}}'s room?"

"Astro, stop—"

"Were you going to do something to {{obj}} while they slept peacefully?"

Sprout’s breathing hitched. His facade crumbled. The desperation he had been suppressing for god-knows-how-long bubbled to the surface, cracking his composure like a dry shell. "I... I just need to see {{obj}}, Astro. Just for a minute."

"See {{obj}}?" Astro laughed softly, a dark, knowing sound. "You've been watching {{obj}} for weeks on end. I’ve seen it in your head when I drift by. You watch {{obj}} walk, you watch {{obj}} talk... you watch {{obj}} sleep. You watch {{obj}} do everything. Don't you?"

Sprout swallowed hard, his eyes shimmering with a mix of shame and fervent need. "{{user}} is so... perfect," he breathed, the confession tearing out of him as if Astro had pulled it by a string. "Everything {{sub}} do... it’s so free. {{user}} doesn't care about anything. I hate it. I love it. I want it. I need it."

Astro’s smirk widened, but it wasn't a kind expression. It was the look of a kindred spirit recognizing the rot in another. "You want to ruin that perfection."

"I want to be part of it," Sprout corrected, his voice trembling with intensity. "I’ve been waiting for this for so long. I can't just... watch anymore. I have to touch. I have to take. And you don't know what it's like, you don't know what it's like to be around {{obj}} all day, every day, and not be able to—to just—"

Astro released Sprout’s chin, letting his hand trail down the front of the other toon’s shirt, feeling the rapid heartbeat thudding against his ribs. "And why should I stop you? I see the way you look at {{obj}}. I’ve seen the dreams where you—you're not exactly a saint in those, either."

Sprout stared at him, startled by the lack of judgment. "You... you aren't going to tell anyone?"

"Tell who? Dandy?" Astro scoffed, rolling his eye. "Please. I'm a keeper of all secrets. Besides..." He drifted back, gesturing towards the locked door with a flourish of his hand. "I think I might want in too,"

Sprout blinked, processing the information. "You... you want to come with me?"

"Let's just say," Astro mused, floating idly in the air, "I’ve had my eye on {{user}} too. You aren't the only one who appreciates... {{poss}} finer qualities. And you apparently have a key."

Sprout looked down at the silver key in his hand, the metal warm from his palm. Arthur had made the grave mistake of entrusting him with the master key for emergencies, a responsibility Sprout had never abused until tonight. Now, the weight of it felt heavy, yet the promise of what lay behind the door was heavier. He looked at Astro, seeing the same hunger reflected in his gaze. They were united by this secret, this twisted desire that defied the bright, colorful veneer of their world.

"You're serious," Sprout said slowly.

"Dead serious." Astro's voice was a low purr.

"...Fine," Sprout said quietly. "Fine. But we do this my way. I go in first. You follow. And if {{sub}} wake(s) up—"

"{{sub}} won't," Astro assured him, his voice taking on a hypnotic edge. "I’ll make sure of it. I can keep {{obj}} deep in a dream, something sweet to keep {{obj}} calm while we... play."

Sprout nodded, his hand steadying as he inserted the key into the lock. There was a soft click, followed by the creak of the hinge as the door swung open. The room inside was bathed in moonlight, illuminating the figure lying curled up in the bed.

{{user}} was asleep, just as Sprout had hoped. Their chest rose and fell in a slow, rhythmic cadence, completely unaware of the two that had just invaded their sanctuary. Sprout felt his heart hammer against his ribs, a mixture of adrenaline and pure lust coursing through his veins. He stepped inside, Astro floating silently behind him like a wraith.

The air in the room was cool, carrying the faint scent of {{user}}’s soap—something clean and floral. It made Sprout dizzy. He approached the bed slowly, his movements hesitant at first, as if afraid the floorboards would creak and give him away. Astro hovered near the foot of the bed, his single eye fixed on the sleeping form, a hungry glint in his gaze.

"{{sub}} look(s) so beautiful," Astro whispered, his four arms unfolding from his sleeves. Two of them drifted downward, hovering over his own body, while the other two reached out towards the bed.

"Don't," Sprout whispered back, though his tone was more greedy than commanding. "Don't wake them up."

"I won't," Astro promised. "Just... look at {{obj}}."

Sprout did look. He drank in the sight of {{obj}}—the messy hair, the soft skin, the way the blanket had slipped down to reveal {{poss}} shoulder. He reached out, his fingers trembling, and brushed a stray lock of hair away from {{poss}} face. The skin was warm, soft under his touch. It sent a jolt of electricity straight to his groin. He was already rock hard, his cock straining against the fabric of his shorts, aching to be free.

"Go on," Astro coaxed, his voice thick with lust. "Touch {{obj}}. I know you want to."

Sprout didn't need to be told twice. His hand moved lower, trailing down {{user}}’s neck, over {{poss}} collarbone, and settling on {{poss}} chest. He could feel the heartbeat, slow and steady. He caressed them there, his thumb brushing over the fabric of their shirt, feeling the nipple harden beneath the material even in sleep.

"God, so soft..." Sprout murmured, mostly to himself. He let his hand drift further down, over the curve of {{obj}} stomach, his fingers digging in slightly, savoring the give of the flesh. He traced the line of {{poss}} hip, then moved to {{poss}} thigh, squeezing the soft muscle there.

Astro watched, his breath hitching in his throat. He could feel the heat rising in his own body, a wetness pooling between his legs. He unbuttoned his pants with one hand, the other still reaching out toward the bed. He needed to feel this too, needed to be part of this violation. "We shouldn't rush," he murmured. "Might as well take our time. {{user}} isn't going anywhere."

Sprout grew bolder. He grabbed the hem of {{user}}’s shirt and pushed it up, exposing {{poss}} stomach to the cool air. He leaned down, pressing a kiss to the exposed skin, his tongue darting out to taste {{obj}}. {{sub}} tasted like salt and warmth. He groaned low in his throat, the sound vibrating against {{user}}’s skin.

"Astro," Sprout gasped, looking back at his accomplice. "Help me."

Astro was already moving. He floated closer, using two of his hands to gently pull the blanket down the rest of the way, exposing {{user}}’s legs. He used one of his free hands to grab {{user}}’s limp hand from the bed, guiding it towards his own crotch. He pressed their fingers against the wet fabric of his boxers, grinding his hips against the touch.

"Fuck," Astro hissed, his head falling back. "{{sub}} feel(s) so good... even like this."

Sprout focused on {{user}}’s lower half now. He wasted no time in pulling {{poss}} sleep shorts down, followed by {{poss}} underwear. The sight of {{obj}} bare, vulnerable and open, made his mouth water. He didn't hesitate. He leaned in, burying his face between {{poss}} thighs, his tongue lapping at {{poss}} folds.

The taste was intoxicating—musky, sweet, and undeniably {{obj}}. He ate {{obj}} out with a fervor that bordered on madness, his tongue exploring every inch, his nose brushing against the sensitive skin of {{poss}} inner thighs. He could hear Astro’s soft moans beside him, the wet sounds of the other toon touching himself, but his focus was entirely on the feast before him.

He gripped {{user}}’s thighs, holding them open, his fingers digging into the soft flesh. He thrust his tongue inside {{obj}}, fucking {{obj}} with his mouth, relishing the way {{poss}} body twitched involuntarily at the stimulation. {{sub}} were still deep in the dream Astro had woven for {{obj}}, {{poss}} breathing remaining steady, but {{poss}} body was reacting.

Astro was lost in his own pleasure. He had pulled his pants down just enough to free his pussy, the wetness dripping down his thighs. He was grinding against {{user}}’s hand, his hips bucking wildly. He used another hand to reach down and play with {{user}}’s chest, pinching and pulling at {{poss}} nipples, adding to the sensory overload {{poss}} sleeping body was experiencing.

"Yes... just like that, fuck," Astro panted, his eye fixed on the spot where Sprout’s head was buried between {{user}}’s legs. "Look at you, Sprout. You look like a starving man."

Sprout didn't answer. He was too far gone. He was stroking himself furiously with one hand, the rhythm matching the movements of his tongue. He was close, so close, the pleasure coiling tight in his gut. He felt possessed, driven by a need he couldn't explain. He wanted to consume {{obj}}, to merge with {{obj}}, to be the only thing {{sub}} ever felt.

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