He looked around the room, trying to ascertain where his other half was. A thousand thoughts raced through his mind, but most prevalent of all was the nagging doubt in the back of his mind; this is a bad idea, it told him, a bad idea and you should be ashamed of yourself. He fought to cast these negative thoughts and emotions aside, or at least keep them at bay until his man arrived. He heard a short series of sounds like steps, and he knew it was him. He had come for him as promised.
"Honey, I'm home," the newcomer cooed warmly. He just sat on the bed and shuffled his feet nervously, trying to avoid making eye contact.
"Hi," he managed to mumble underneath his breath. He liked Azathoth as a friend, of course - it had been that way for as long as he could remember, eons and eons before the first stars were even born. He had never considered doing this, but Azathoth assured him it was perfectly fine.
"What's wrong, my little Cthulhu?" purred Azathoth, gently raising a tentacle and stroking it across his friend's facial region. Cthulhu looked away in embarassment.
"I'm not sure about this, Azathoth," he breathed, almost ashamed to say it.
"It's alright," said Azathoth comfortingly, "It's perfectly natural. I won't hurt you, I promise."
Cthulhu knew he could trust his old friend on anything, and yet still his mind protested. He skimmed furiously through his mind to find an excuse, any excuse, to avoid it.
"But...what if I become a vessel for your protoplasmic spawnlings?"
"That only happens to female Elder Gods, silly," teased Azathoth, "Besides, you're nothing like that [classy lady] Shub-Niggurath, with her thousand young..."
"I don't know," stammered Cthulhu hurriedly, "I mean, I like you, Azie, I like you a lot...but...as a friend, you know? I just don't think I'm ready for..."
Before he could say anything more, Azathoth was on top of him. Cthulhu's eyes widened with a strange mixture of dread and excitement; loathe as he was to admit it, he was actually quite excited about this, but he could barely bring himself to admit that even in his own thoughts.
"A-Azathoth..."
"Ssssssh," whispered Azathoth, allowing his manifold tendrils to slowly slide across the bed sheets and coil around Cthulhu's arms and chest. Cthulhu bit the lower fold of his feeding orifice sheepishly, nervous and yet eager at the same time.
Slowly but steadily, Azathoth began to rock back and forth atop Cthulhu, sinking his infinite tentacles into his mate's orifices, dripping with oozing moisture and hungry for loving. Gradually, he began to speed up - ever more and more, harder and harder, fiercer and fiercer, until at last he was writhing and convulsing atop the aquatic deity like a starved beast from beyond the stars.
Cthulhu could feel his hearts-rates increase and his temperature rise slowly in his body. These feelings were alien, even to a cosmic being such as himself; never before had he felt the strange yet undeniably thrilling rush of preternatural fluids to his reproductive organs, and yet as Azathoth continued to pound away on him, the feeling only increased. With every passing second, the pleasure became more and more irresistable and magnificent, until he could scarcely think to live without such bodily excitement.
"Oh, Azathoth! Oh, oh, oh," Cthulhu moaned, panting heavily while his big, strong, handsome, prototypically-abbhorent dominator thrashed atop him madly. The two extrastellar beings, caught in the voluptuous throes of their magnificent passion, wailed and cried out blasphemous cacophonies of sheer amorous delight, engaged in the most wondrous bout of libidinous insanity ever achieved by beings of their grotesque forms.
At last, Azathoth could hold it in no more; with one final elated shriek, he released his mellifluous ichor into every concievable orifice in Cthulhu's body. Gallons of thick, slimy, liquescent emanation of all imaginable colours - and them even some - poured out, drenching the bed and Azathoth's submissive mate in a sea of orgasmic glory. Both parties panted loudly and audibly, especially Azathoth, who let his exhausted tentacles return to his luminescent berth.
Cthulhu slowly sat up upon the the bedrest and managed a shy little smile.
"Thank you..."
Azathoth smiled back at him, and the two eldritch abominations shared a single, tender hug.
They were together.