Pursuit if diligence 5

Finally. There were no more errands to run, Celestite had made sure of that before leaving the embassy last time. Along with that, Agate had long since settled in at his cabin and didn’t need to be brought along with him anymore. He could get back to his original plan when it came to helping with the ambrosia. 

His outfit of choice had been picked out especially for this occasion: overalls that were just a little too small, the shorts tight around his upper thighs. Beneath it he wore an off the shoulder, lavender blouse that, combined with the tight straps, created a perfect frame for his unhindered tits. They bounced with every step and he knew bending forward would give his uptight mentor a beautiful view. And, of course, if his secret admirer happened to catch him passing by in such a flattering outfit, that was a bonus.

The trek up to the gardens took him back up the elevator, and down gold-bricked streets until he stood before the greenhouse. He could already see Primrose toiling away in there over gods knew what. Celestite adjusted his cleavage, then pushed the door open.

Primrose glanced briefly over his shoulder to see who it was, then seemed to stumble and turn his head fully to take Celestite in. He seemed to struggle to keep his gaze away from the line of his cleavage, judging by the way his eyes flickered about. Finally he found himself again and cleared his throat. “Good, on time for once. We have important work to do today,” he announced, “You are being allowed the great privilege of harvesting the ambrosia. It’s a very delicate process. The flowers in particular are prone to bruising, and any damage to them will affect the quality of any drinks made from them. It is also imperative to collect the plant in its entirety, including the roots. We do not let any part of this blessed fauna go to waste.” 

He spoke as if he had not regarded every previous step in the process with such importance. Celestite had grown tired by then of rolling his eyes, and instead resigned himself to waiting until Primrose was finished.

The cherubun collected his usual spade, already with a gardening apron tied around his waist, and beckoned Celeste to follow him.

“I’m going to demo the first three for you, then you will harvest one under close supervision, do you—” he faltered when he turned to see how close Celestite was to him. Again, he seemed to struggle to keep his gaze away from his body. Celestite gave a small, innocent smile. “You—should watch closely, not stand on top of me!” 

“Uhuh. So sorry.” Celeste took a half step away, but made a point to bend forward as Primrose settled in front of one of the blossoms. 

Though he hadn’t previously given the plants much thought, even Celestite was distracted for a moment by how beautiful they were in full bloom. The flower was unlike anything he had ever seen. Rich, golden petals that turned orange closer to the stem curled around each other in delicate layers. Almost like a tulip, but larger, and the plant seemed to shimmer in the light. His mind strayed and he wondered if this was what it meant for something to be holy—glittering with vibrance. 

Maybe, but he was busy teasing the cherubun next to him. 

Primrose dug a shallow trench around the ambrosia first. Then, with gloved hands, he sifted through the loosened dirt, explaining all the while that he wanted to keep the roots as intact as possible, which required him to know where they were. Once he seemed confident in his assessment, he began carefully digging beneath the plant until he was able to gently pry it out of the dirt. Then, he laid it gently on the side of the flowerbed, and moved onto the next one.

Unlike previous steps in the process, this one did strike Celestite as a bit more difficult. 

After digging up three flowers, Primrose stood, pointedly not looking at Celeste as he handed him the spade. “Alright…you may try it now.”

Perfect. Celestite kneeled before the flower, much as his thighs didn’t care for the pose. He arched his back and made sure to press his breasts together as much as he could as he began digging a trench around the flower. It was awkward to do, sure, but so long as Primrose was forced to watch him, he wanted to make the other man squirm. Once the roots were partially exposed he pulled back and glanced up over his shoulder. “Oh…I forgot to grab any gloves. Would you mind?”

He held a hand up and found, to his delight, Primrose scowling at him with pink cheeks. It almost seemed like he was in a rush to tear the gloves off his hands. “Here. Now, feel for the roots.”

And Celestite did. His fingers sifted gently through the dirt, prodding and pressing at the roots as delicately as if they were a lover. Idly, he wondered what exactly was stirring right now in Primrose’s pants; hard stem or wet petals? As for the ambrosia, it had a tight bundle of roots that were easy enough to find, then dig around. Unlike his mentor, Celeste ended up accidentally chopping a few tendrils in the process, but his flower didn’t seem too damaged by the end of the endeavor. 

Above him, Primrose gave one of his little huffs. “It could be a little neater, but for your first try it’s acceptable. Move onto the next one, I’ll start on the flowerbed beside you.” 

The afternoon flew by from then on in a haze of labor that quickly stopped being sexy. Celestite was sweating and it seemed the ambrosia would never end. When he finally did dig up the last one, there was no sense of satisfaction, but instead confusion as he tried to look around for the next row of flowers to start on. The realization only hit him when Primrose said, “Alright. Go home and rest up. First thing tomorrow, I’ll be showing you how to process the ambrosia. For now, I’ll finish collecting them and store them overnight. You’re dismissed.”

Well. Not the afternoon of subtle seduction he had planned. Celestite wasn’t about to argue. The only thing he wanted to be in at that moment was a warm shower and fresh pajamas, so he bid Primrose goodnight before taking his leave.