Shaking off the rust to write something for the first time in years so please forgive any mistakes. I tried to edit but there's only so much you can stare at something. (Unless you're Azriel looking at Elain.)
This was originally supposed to only be a few paragraphs of Elain and Azriel on a secret picnic but quickly spiraled.
Mostly Azriel pov oriented so a lot of simping and being down bad in a pathetically hot way. I hope I captured the vibes I was going for (romantic and horny). If you take the time to read, I hope you enjoy it as much as I did writing it!
A Universe so Divine (Only We Know)
They had situated themselves on top of a blanket on a grassy, tree covered hill overlooking Velaris. The tall, ancient trunks encircled the area, providing a sense of concealment, as the setting sun covered them and the city peaking through the bushes with a quiet golden glow.
Or maybe that's just how everything seemed when he was with her. Golden.
Azriel had taken her here for peace and quiet and for them to finally be completely alone. No one to linger around the Townhouse, halting them from acting on their desires, to come into the room suddenly and startle them apart when the need to be close to each other became to powerful to resist. It wasn't often they could get away like this, but both of them valued the time and made sure to enjoy every second they had no matter how scarce or brief.
Elain had packed a basket like normal and they ate sugary jams and home baked goods of her own creation as they talked easily and free between each other about their day.
Elain sent him teasing glances while she nibbled on a strawberry jam laced cracker--and he had responded with devouring, hungry stares, taking in her uncovered neck and shoulders, how the gauzy, dusty pink dress she had worn today dipped low and the sun’s rays highlighted the dark outline of her body through the thin material. He had to remember to chew his food to at a normal pace.
She was going to be the death of him.
Under other circumstances, eating anything Elain cooked would have been savored and enjoyed slowly but given how often they were truly and utterly alone, Azriel did not even want to spare the time to eat. At least not jam.
But he did, if only to make her happy. Anything to make her happy.
It didn't take long after they had finished for him to be rewarded for his patience as Elain sat up on her knees and stretched her arms out to him. Elain's body quivered with laughter as he greedily pulled her into his lap, her thighs naturally situating themselves on either side of his hips. Their arms grasping at each other like a lifeline as they thrilled in the physical closeness that was often denied them.
For long a moment, they sat there like a statues forgotten by time. Eyes closed, foreheads placed together as they took in each others breath, proximity, essence.
Azriel relished the pressure of her body against his, at the sight and scent of her overwhelming his senses. His hands roamed her figure, mapping the dips and curves of her form to commit to memory till he can hold her again.
Elain's hands also explored, taking in the power of his arms, the set of his shoulders, before coming to cup each side of his face in her palms. One hand glided softly along his cheek, warm and velvet against his skin as her fingers found and stroked the roundness of his ears with a gentleness that bordered on obscene.
When Azriel was younger, he resented his blunted ears that marked him as less than, wishing his were pointed like Rhysand's--the mark of the high fae.
Now, Azriel wouldn't care what his ears looked like-pointed, blunt, webbed, furry--as long she kept gingerly trailing her fingertips against the sensitive parts of skin.
Azriel bit back a groan and swallowed heavily, trying to keep himself under control as the desire he always had simmering in him around Elain broke free and rose to engulf him. Even with his eyes closed and his focus on mastering himself, he could feel the triumphant smile on her face at the response she knew she'd elicit, the little minx. This was their game, how long they could withstand the chaste gestures before someone shattered, before the innocent brush of fingers became feral, carnal, became a need.
So far, they had a pretty even score.
He had to touch her, had to mitigate the craving welling within him, had to have her bare skin against his own no matter how minute. He brought one of his arms up from around her body to rest his hand against her exposed neck, noting with a certain sense of male gratification how she angled her head to give him better access. His scarred fingers tangled in the loose strands of her silky hair, as his hand slid back to settle against her nape, thumb coming to massage against the pulsing point under her jaw.
He felt her tremble from the texture of his scarred hands skimming across her skin, heard the shaky intake of her breath as Elain also fought to restrain herself. His hands were another insecurity about himself he didn't care for till he learned all the exquisite sounds he could call forth out of her just by touch alone.
Grinning, he opened his eyes to take in her warm, sultry, doe eyed stare, a rich brown that sparkled when caught in stray sunbeams filtering in through the leaves. He could get--did-- get lost in those eyes. He would happily drown in her gaze and never come up for air if left to his own desires.
He didn't blink as he watched her intense introspection lower to his lips, flashing quickly back up when his widening smirk alerted her to the fact that he had noticed. A light dust of pink began to cover her cheeks to match her dress and she quickly averted her gaze to her hands, to focus on the human like ears he possessed.
A diminutive curve of her brow, a tightening of the eyes. A moment and then the already barely perceptible expression was over like it had never been but Azriel noticed. He noticed everything about her.
He didn't need to be a daemati to know what had haunted her thoughts however briefly.
"Do you still miss it?" he asked softly.
Elain's attention shifted back to his golden glower, a small, knowing smile dimpling the sides of her mouth as she appreciated that he saw her--that from the very first he's always seen her—that neither of them had to verbally state what it was. Being human and all that had come with it.
"No," she shook her head gently, that great mane of captured sunlight hovering around her shoulders and sending a wave of her scent for him to breath in.
"For a long time I...," she trailed off, withdrawing her hand and placing it against his chest. He could of cursed himself for bringing it up, for marring their precious time alone together, for the touch of darkness that clouded her features. His arm around her waist strengthened, hauling her close to him as if by sheer proximity he could protect her from anything--even her own mind.
He clutched her hand against his chest between them in his own and pressed hard against his Illyrian leathers so she could feel the steady beat within him. A heart that beat only for her.
"I did," she continued, shyly peering up at him from under her long lashes," but now...I don't think I could go back even if I still wanted to."
A relief always to hear the words from her own lips. There was a period where her feelings were quite the opposite--when he and everyone close to her worried if the Cauldron, the metamorphosis, the murky abyss of her unknown powers and the rapid decay of the life she had known would kill her.
But Elain had endured, recovered, in the face of such misfortune and now flourished like a butterfly emerging from it's chrysalis. Azriel could only thank the Mother that she included him in her new found life she was making for herself.
"Though..." she began again, the hand not currently confined in his own rising absentmindedly to hover next to her head. "It took some getting used to...these." These being newly pointed ears--the most telling and damning of her alteration. "It was hard to see my reflection somedays so I..." she hesitated a second before resuming, "I covered them with my hair so I wouldn't have to be constantly reminded every time I passed a mirror, glimpsed a shiny surface, saw myself in someone's eyes."
Azriel understood. There was a memory from a lifetime ago where he had also been locked away in a sunless chasm, his life not his own and his body corrupted outside of his control. Looking at the rough scarred hand that caressed his piece of sunlight given flesh, he understood.
"Well," he said, voice pitched low as he leaned in closer to her, releasing her hand and gathering up a thick lock of her soft tresses to tuck behind her delicately pointed ear to reveal the appendage to his eye.
Elain instinctively copied his movement, leaning in to meet him midway so their lips could connect in a much overdue kiss but he pulled away. He chuckled at her bewildered expression and gave her an admonishing look to keep her in place as he leaned in again to her bare shoulder.
This close, he inhaled deeply the smell of roses and bread, of jasmine and soil. Of home. His home. Her.
He kissed the length of her shoulder then up her neck to her ear, repressing the growl that threatened to erupt from him with the low roll of her hips into his own, of the way her breath quickened in his ear, how hear head fell back to balance in the palm of his hand at her neck, silently asking for more. The arm around her waist lowered for him to slip his hand under her already rucked up dress, to grab at the ample offering of her bottom and squeeze till her flesh overflowed through his fingers.
"I think they are lovely," he whispered to her, allowing his tongue to dart out and trace along the fine ridge of her ear, to taste her. A tremor traveled down her body that Azriel could feel in every pore of his being. He blew slow and tender onto the edge of her ear and discerned with pleasure the tip of her ear quiver in response.
"Everything about you is lovely Elain from the tips of your ears," here he stopped to press his lips gently against her temple as his hand on her buttocks guided her to grind on his confined, straining cock, "to the bottom of your feet." He would kiss those too if he could. He would smother her with kisses everywhere he could reach, mark her body with touches of adoration from his lips, praise her like a sermon with his mouth until any thought of her not being completely and entirely perfect left her mind. Human or fae.
He observed with pleasure the tinged pink color now marring the fragile tips of her ears and he knew the color would match with the blush that now undoubtedly heated her cheeks. He would have to ask for her to display her ears more often when they were not alone, to see if he could evoke the same response in her in a secret language that only they two knew when surrounded by others.
He felt her hand still pressed between their bodies claw viscously at his shirt, her nails piercing the leather as she began to move her hips in earnest against him, her covered core against the large bulge that he desperately wanted to free from his pants.
"Azriel," Elain panted hot and heavy to his hearing, her voice laced with want and demand as her other hand came up to entwine her fingers into his hair and tug backwards. He chucked darkly and obeyed for what else could he do. He was hers to do with as she willed.
When their gazes clashed again his shy flower was gone, though the blush remained ever present. Instead she now stared at him with a look that burned, that scorched his soul with a craving, a longing, a thirst no water could quench.
With a dominating thrust of her hips and hands, she shoved him to fall back onto the ground with her still on top, thighs clenched to his sides trembling uncontrollably. A hiss escaped him at her insistence, at her need, his hands automatically grabbing her hips to bring her down onto his hard length while simultaneously bucking up into her.
"Kiss me," she commanded, inclining over him to curtain the face of their tryst with her magnificent hair. Her chest heaved and her breath came out in gasping cries of untapped desire.
He could deny her nothing and with dusk falling all around them and the stars winking into existence, their lips lay claim to each other in a collision of ferocity and passion.
Finally.
