thinking about,, gentle, soft, completely appreciative, pure love making with Kei. Taking everything slow, as if the entire world would wait for the two of you to be done. Every movement soft, as if you thought the other was made of glass, even if you know they’re not. Nails lightly coming out to play, dragging across backs, and hips, and feathers, and shoulders, and waists, leisurely. Gently.
He keeps a slow pace as he pushes himself in and out, not even caring to keep a specific tempo to his hips. It’s in moments where he’s able to look down at you under him that he’s happy you guys were both too tuckered out to go into anything that wasn’t missionary. Sure, whatever, it’s “plain” to others, but for him, it’s perfect right now.
He swears under his breath, not because your walls clamp around his cock so sinfully tight, but because he swears you look the most angelic in this moment. Eyes lidded, barely able to keep themselves open, but open enough that light is able to hit the unshed tears of euphoria and catch his eye. Your lips, red, puffy, and wet from kissing so fervently, just how he likes them. It’s adorable. You’re so adorable.
Hands intertwine, fingers hooking into crevices the other provides. Knuckles start gradually going white, but they stay connected nevertheless.
Soft gasps, whines, and sighs mix together to form a perfect symphony, a unique language only the two of you understand right here in this moment. The only words that are deemed needed to be exchanged are chants of “I love you”’s and maybe a colorful Keigo word that he can’t help when it slips out here and there. Not that you’re complaining, of course.
Even when suddenly the pressure starts building in the both of your abdomens, and it doesn’t seem avoidable, the two of you silently come to terms with the last minutes that will make up the end of this euphoria. But like hell you won’t enjoy it to its bitter end. That’s why he dips his head down to meet your lips in a rushed kiss, muffling the both of your highly pitched voices. That why he breaks away only momentarily, enough to murmur a soft “hang on tight birdie” against your lips in a final act of love making in its most innocent form before his hips speed up, this time on a mission.
Your fingers have no choice but to take his advice, tightening impossibly tighter around his knuckles, as you realize they’re the only things truly grounding you from floating into an endless headspace of cloud 9.
Opening your eyes that much more, you’re met with golden ponds so full of love they’ve started to spill over. You’re not sure when the tears started to escape his eyes, but something about seeing the wetness covering his cheeks only pushed the moisture out of your own eyes, blurring the view in front of you.
Neither of you care, though. Not when you’re both suddenly catapulting into pure euphoria together, crying out in simultaneous white hot pleasure.
He collapses on top of you, breathing mixed and heavy, sweaty foreheads pressed what should have been uncomfortably together, but you could care less. While you may feel a bit suffocated with your chest caged under his, you can’t bring yourself to care when you’re suddenly wrapping your legs around his hips to keep him from moving, tying your arms around his neck as if they could cage him there on top of you forever.
He’s the first to break the unison in which you breathed, only managing to get out a whimper of an “I love you”. He sounded so vulnerable, his voice so soft you almost missed it. It takes a few seconds before you’re able to properly respond, whispering back “I love you too”.
You’re only lucid for a few more seconds, but it’s in those few seconds that you look down and find him already passed out, wings spanned out over the top of the two of you, the heat from both his body and his plumage creating the perfect blanket.
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