The hunting pod is hailed home with excited chatter from the rest of the pod as they pass out their spoils. Water weaves over to Dew, expression warm.
āHow did it go? Aurora says we have you to thank for todayās feast.ā
Dew flushes all over again but takes the compliment gratefully.
āIt was honestly really fun. Hunting is so much easier with a group.ā
Water chuckles. āIndeed it is. Weāre lucky to have such a large pod. The more the merrier.ā He winks.
Dew senses the invitation there but doesnāt have the chance to respond. Sunshine and Tempest have gotten into a friendly tussle, drawing everyoneās attention. It seems the food and camaraderie has them in a playful mood.
Water calls for order until everyone has had a chance to eat and things reluctantly settle for now. Food is scarfed quickly though and before long a round of tag has begun. In quick succession, Tempest, Sunshine, Lake, and then Rain are it.
Rainās already toothy grin goes mischievous as they dart over to Dew. Rather than pounce or tumble into him the way most of the other mers pass the role, Rain darts over, smiles sweetly, and gives him a nuzzle on the cheek. The way it causes Dewās brain to short circuit a little has him almost missing their murmur of āyouāre it,ā right against his finned ear, before theyāre racing away just as quickly.
Dewās higher functioning capabilities stall out for a long moment and of course everyone uses it as a chance to get out of easy range. A chase it is then. He chuckles to himself, Before his face has even started to cool from the furious blush that dusts his cheeks, heās taking off towards Aurora who squeals excitedly and turns to flee.
And so it goes. Dew finds himself continually distracted, thoughts of returning to the surface chased away by this or that. Even after the match of tag there's plenty to do and see. Everything from chores around the reef to the younger mers making a game of showing him each and every shiny rock and shell they can find. The best is when the whole pod pulls him into yet another game, this time a massive round of hide and seek.
Naturally they make him the seeker before he can even try and talk his way out of playing. Simply put, everyone suddenly darts off in ten different directions at once, only Water remaining by Dewās side to explain the task thatās just been presented to him.
āThey want me to what?ā Dew chuckles.
āThey want you to try and find them all. Whoever hides the best, is it next.ā
āI think they have entirely too much faith in me. It's gonna take a while.ā
āHm, donāt discount yourself yet. They wonāt have gone too far.ā Water assures. āNo risk of getting lost. And if you want to give up after a bit that's okay too.ā
The squidās tone is kind but now Dew has been presented with a challenge, a dare even, and heās not going to back down easily.
āOkay, wish me luck!ā Dew picks a direction at random and heads off, scanning the sand and plant life for any telltale fins or scales.
He doesnāt do too poorly at all, as it turns out. He stumbles across Lake hiding amongst the kelp fronds by accident but he catches Aurora when she gets impatient and risks changing hiding spots. Sunshine is in one of the many caves so her vibrant stripes donāt give her away. Tempest has buried herself under the sand which Dew realizes from the way her voluminous hair refuses to stay covered by the silt.
Storm and Dew startle each other when they happen to peek over the same formation of coral at the same time. They have a good laugh about it after. And Phantom of course completely scares the crap out of him, sneaking up behind Dew, silent as ever.
āHells Phantom. You gotta stop doing that.ā Dew huffs as his heart pounds dramatically in his chest.
āSorry.ā They look down shyly. āI just figured I should go ahead and come out since you passed my hiding spot five times.ā
Dew squints, trying to discern this so-called hiding spot but the only cover on this side of the reef is a large rock and some bushy but short plant life. Phantom answers by floating over to the rock and shifting to match its earthy reds and browns and its rough craggy texture perfectly.
āYou win hide and seek a lot donāt you?ā Dew murmurs as they swim back over, skin returning to its smooth grey and violet.
They blink, surprised and curious. āHow did you know?ā
Dew blinks back. āJust a hunch.ā
In time, Dew manages to find the remaining members of the pod as well. Except one that is. As everyone gathers around, Rain is noticeably still absent.
Some of the others make it known that theyāre itching for another round but Dew isnāt giving up now. He picks another direction at random and drifts slowly, trying to puzzle out where Rain could possibly be.
Not their cave, Dew has already checked pretty much every cave twice after struggling to find Phantom. Not the kelp forest; their blue and purple scales would stand out too much. And probably not in any of the lattices of the reef itself, the gaps only large enough for regular sized fish. As he mulls it over a particularly vibrant anemone catches his attention, it's little arms dancing in the current. He watches it for a long moment, admires the orange fish with black and white stripes that mingle between the fronds.
Then he senses something behind him.
As he turns he already knows thereāll be nothing. Sure enough open water. But then the flash of scales in his periphery. He smiles.
He lets Rain tease him, spins around and around until he's a bit dizzy but giddy with it. Then before Rain can bait and bolt again, Dew whips around once more and tackles them to the sand.
They laugh and it makes their whole face light up.
The afternoon sunlight filters through the water like a prism, and reflects off Rainās scales like gemstones. It bathes the both of them in prismatic light.
And Rain is gorgeous like this; even more than usual. Silky hair fanned out, shimmering like something out of a dream. Sparkling like a rainbow after a storm. And yet finally tangible. Finally nothing threatens to pull them apart.
Dew shifts from where heād sprawled on top of them to curl up beside them instead. Their webbed hands find each other and Dew rests his head in the crook of their neck like it was made to fit there. Presses a shy and impulsive kiss just above their gills. They titter and Dew smiles against their skin at the sound.
As comfy as it is though, they both need more. Rain sits up just enough to smile down at Dew where heās still laying against the sand. They tip their head and he nods before he can get in his own way. Rain leans down and Dew surges up to meet them. Their lips find each other in the middle.
A hunger Dew didnāt know he had awakens in his chest. Suddenly desperate and starving for more more more. Rain pulls back a little, trying to make sure they didnāt push too far but Dew follows to close the gap once more. Kisses them harder and sighs in relief when they reciprocate. Reaches for them even as they're already slotting their bodies together.
And it's like something vital but missing has been returned and Dew never wants to let go.
Although going no further than a session of furious kisses, it still has them both panting and heady with adrenaline. They canāt take their hands off each other; fingers tangled in hair, lips lazily brushing any reachable skin. Touching just to touch, to hold and caress.
āCan I show you something?ā Rain murmurs against the shell of Dewās ear from where theyāve been trailing kisses over his neck.
Dew nods again without hesitation.
Rain shuffles off of him, Dew reluctantly letting them go. They take Dewās wrist in one hand and a fist full of sand in the other. Bringing it to Dewās skin they begin to gently rub.
Rather than painful and gritty, the sand is soft. Rain uses it over Dewās arm from hand to shoulder.
āItās called a sand bath. It gets rid of dead skin and loose scales. And it also just feels nice.ā Rain has been looking down at Dewās arm as they speak but now they flick their eyes up. āIs this okay?ā
āUh huh.ā Dew nods. āKinda tickly.ā
When Rain finishes his right arm, Dew proffers his left, letting them fuss over him for once without complaint or embarrassment. He just closes his eyes and sinks into the feeling of Rainās gentle touch. His neck and back, his tail and fins, Rain is sure to miss nothing. Only when their sure no inch of Dewās body is left unloved do they let their hands settle still at Dewās waist as he leans against them.
Dew rests sleepily in Rainās arms for a long moment before they speak.
āWant to head back to the pod soon?ā
Dew hums. Wants to stall and prolong this moment. āCan I give you a sand bath first?ā He hopes his ask sounds like an offer.
Rain makes that contented chirp that makes Dewās feel all warm.
āIād love that.ā
Dew scoops up a handful of sand. āOkay Rainy. Iāve gotcha.ā
Long after the sand has done its job, Dew keeps letting his hands wander, memorizing the shape of Rainās body. They rest at ease, a smile curling their lips the whole time.
Only when the sun is low in the sky do they agree to meander their way back to the pod.
It happens when Rain is still fresh; when he's still wrapping his mind around what bodies can do and when the stretch of Mountain's cock is tinted with something a bit more than just pleasure.
It's not the first time they've been together. Not the second, or even the third, but it is the first time that Mountain laid the long line of his body against Rain's back when his thrusts became staggered, the first time he tried to get closer when he finished instead of pulling away to make some part of Rain's skin a canvas to splatter. When Mountain moans long and low into Rain's ear, the warmth of his body spreading into his spine, he stays exactly where he is. And Rain feels it in his cunt, the way Mountain's heat spills into him there, too, filling him up more than he thought he could carry.
He doesn't know how much there is, whether it's normal or a little or too much. It feels like too much; it spills out around Mountain's cock, leaking out of his hole and dripping drown. Rain knows because he can feel it sliding down his thigh.
But it feels good, to be used that way, to be stuffed beyond what he can hold. When Mountain finally pulls out, panting on his knees behind Rain to admire his work, Rain's fingers beat his to the drop spilling down. He catches it and flops onto his back, admiring the way the light casts through it and the way it coats his skin. It's thick. A bit sticky. Nothing Rain hasn't seen before.
The air feels heavy between them. A thought forms in Rain's sex-addled mind, and Mountain must feel it, because his gaze meets Rain's just in time to watch him bring those coated fingers to his mouth.
He licks them first, curious, letting the taste make its way to his tongue and settle. It's salty, musky, with maybe a ghost of sweet. Somehow, he thinks it tastes like Mountain. So he goes back.
Rain crooks his fingers to scoop up the line of cum running down his thigh and tastes that tooā this time, he sucks it off his fingers. It's quicker that way.
He gasps when he touches himself, his fingers brushing his sensitive, still-stretched walls to reach the rest of the gift Mountain's given him. He licks it all, every last drop, cleaning himself until he realizes all at once that he misses the feeling of fullness he had only moments ago.
Mountain's eyes haven't left his fingers. Rain's not even sure he's blinked.
When Rain finally speaks, it's to state the very simple conclusion he's reached, and his voice comes out hoarse but steady:
rain gets fingerblasted in a hot tub. thats it thats the fic.
raindrop, rated E, contains trans rain (cunt/clit/cock used), somewhat mean dew, banter, vaginal fingering and ill-advised used of public hot tub jets š
Rain steps into the hotel hot tub with a deep groan, its jets burbling to life and throwing steam into the already humid air. It's not very deep, only up to his chest when he finds one of the bench seats, but once he finds a jet it's easy to melt into bliss.
The rest of the pool room sits empty, silent save for the subtle hum of jets and filters. It's late, late enough thay Rain had been forced to bat his eyelashes at the front counter girl just for the chance to be in here. He's not bothered by it. The opportunity to soak in his element is one he'll always take on the road, no matter how many odd humans he needs to flirt with.
The hotel itself isn't very fancy - some chain number off some highway in some state Rain can't be bothered to remember - but the pool house itself is quite nice. It sits separate from the hotel proper, enclosed in water-stained birch walls and topped with a peaked glass roof that lets in the moon's pale glow. It must be lovely during the day, Rain can picture the sun sparkling off the water in the oblong pool, but they'll be on the road long before there's time to see if he's right.
Which is why he's here at just past midnight, up to his chin in a not-quite-hot-enough tub and wishing he could jump in the deep end of the pool and free his gills. He closes his eyes with a sigh, feeling the water lap at his far too human throat. The chlorine would sting, the air's so thick with it Rain can already feel his skin drying out, but it would be worth the burn just to spend a while lurking at the bottom. Enjoying the cool, the calm, the soothing pressure.
It would be more fun if he had company, though. Someone to hunt like a shark or chase through the water. Hell, even someone to sit on the side and watch him zip through the shallows without a ripple would be enough. It's a shame so few of the other are night owls on tour. Not that he doesn't understand it, of course he does, but it really was a bummer when even Aeon started having his pajamas on by 10pm. Rain blames the moon for keeping him from sleep, selfish thing that she is, but in truth he'd rather float here than lay awake on an uncomfortable hotel mattress anyway.
His next sigh echoes off the vaulted ceiling, and the chuckle that answer it is so unexpected that Rain inhales a noseful of steaming water. He sputters in a most inelegant fashion as that chuckle graduates to a barking laugh, and by the time Rain gathers his wits he finds Dewdrop grinning down at him.
"Hey," he greets with a two-fingered wave, nonchalant as anything. Rain peers up at him, dark curls clinging to his cheeks, and blinks.
"Uh. Hi?"
Dew raises an eyebrow. He's got his thumbs tucked into the belt of a fluffy red robe he's had for so long that it's closer to pink - not that anyone would tell him that.
"Not happy to see me?"
There's a playful sparkle in those tired eyes, the one surrounded by more and more wrinkles every day it seems. Rain always forgets how blue they are when Dew's in full glamour, but the lines remain no matter his form.
"Surprised me," Rain murmurs, running a hand through his hair and floating back to his seat. "You went to your room so fast I think you left your shadow behind."
Dew snorts at that, striding over toward the tub and undoing his robe. He drops it over the back of the same chair Rain used for his towel, revealing a simple pair of black swim trunks. The barbells through his nipples gleam in the low light as Dew steps out of his dedicated shower sandals.
"Had a hot date or something," he offers, not even trying to cover up the yawn that follows. Rain watches him saunter over to the small control panel on the wall, adding minutes to the timer on the hot tub jets.
"Or something?"
Dew pulls his hair back into a quick knot, and Rain watches the muscles in his slim back shift beneath pale skin. He's smirking when he turns, making a slow beeline for the hot tub steps.
"And since you were supposed to room with me tonight, I figured -"
Dew cuts himself off with a brief groan as his toes breach the water, and the crease between his brows tells Rain he's not pleased with the it either.
"Is it the fire ghoul in me, or is this basically piss temperature?"
Rain wrinkles his nose, sitting up a bit straighter, and Dew gives him a gross little smile. He sinks into the water, wading his way through the bubbling tub until he can settle at Rain's side. He rests a calluses hand on Rain's muscled thigh and Rain groans - his touch is warmer than the water.
"Yeah, thought so. Can never truat these damn budget hotels..."
Dew harrumphs, not seeming to mind in the slightest when Rain twists sideways and moves to slot himself between Dew's spread knees. A cat on the hunt for a summertime sunspot. He leans in until they're chest to chest, his chin hooked over Dew's bony shoulder, his natural heat already starting to warm the water around them. "Hang on, let me just -"
Steadily, the water warms. Envelops them in thick clouds of steam and leaves Rain with a dizzy feeling he really, really likes. It's only a couple of minutes before he's boneless in the water, drooling into the crook of Dew's neck and smiling like a drunken fool.
"That's better," Dew sighs, running a rough palm down Rain's sagging spine. "Anyway, since you were supposed to room with me and never showed up, I figured I'd hunt you down."
"How'd y'know I'd be here?"
Every word feels like such an effort. Rain's been back and forth between the pool and hot tub half a dozen times in the hour he's been here, but somehow two minutes laying against Dew's heated chest has been infinitely more relaxing. He feels like he could fall asleep right here.
"One always searches for a ghoul in their natural habitat," Dew explains. He plants a kiss behind Rain's ear, makes his calf twitch. "And you always find the sluts at the pool."
It takes two breaths for Rain to get Dew in a headlock and drag him under the surface, and two breaths more for the pair of them to emerge in a fit of spashing and howling laughter.
"Asshole!" Rain hurls, coughing up a mouthful of water between wheezes.
"I am what I eat," Dew proclaims, wiping water from those beautiful eyes, and wholly ignores the disgusted noise Rain gives in reply.
He swims the short distance to where Rain is attempting to gather himself, echoes of raucous laughter still bouncing off the yellowed concrete floor. Dew doesn't stop until they're floating nose to nose, and when he does their grins match.
Rain's not sure who starts the kiss, and he's too busy sucking on Dew's tongue to care. He tastes like cigarettes and cinnamon gum, like a hundred nights spent crammed into one bunk, a supply closet or behind a clothing rack in some dressing room. Rain doesn't fight as Dew guides them back to a bench seat, letting the other ghoul settle him into a straddle that has Rain's thighs straining. He's not about to complain.
Dew's the one to break the kiss, and Rain would complain if it didn't mean Dew was now nipping at his throat. His teeth have always been so sharp, even in glamour, and Rain only has to whisper a near-silent 'please' to have Dew sucking a cruel bruise into otherwise unmarred skin. Rain gasps with it, nails finding homes in Dew's exposed shoulders, and the hiss it earns him goes straight to Rain's cunt.
"Oh it's been way too long since we've fucked in a hot tub," Rain half moans, rolling his hips against the burgeoning tent in Dew's trunks. "How do you want me?"
"See?" Dew slurs against his neck, licking at the mark Rain will wear proudly for at least the next week. "Sluts are always at the pool."
Rain would argue for the sake of it, but it takes all of three seconds for Dew to get him kneeling before one of those lovely jets with his own swimsuit around his thighs. The first pulse of water against his clit makes his eyes cross, and Rain?
Well, Rain thinks it's pretty damn nice to be a slut.
"Hold onto the edge," Dew murmurs, pressing himself to Rain's back. He's impossibly hot to the touch, makes the water feel chill, and Rain's lightheaded all over again. But he listens. Grabs the textured concrete for balance as Dew wraps spindly arms around him, that proud nose drifting along his nape. "Good boy. Fast or slow?"
Dew's chin comes to rest on his left shoulder, one hand settling at the center of Rain's chest and the other in a vee just above his already excited clit. Dew tightens that vee, gives him the ghost of a stroke, and Rain makes a sound he will never admit to making.
"Has to be fast," he huffs, relaxing back into Dew's embrace. A flash of them on stage drifts through him steam-clouded mind, of Rain eagerly leaning back for a hand on his throat, and he knows Dew feels the way his cunt pulses. The other ghoul makes a questioning sound. "The girl at the desk said I can only be here until one."
There's a clock on the far wall, and it currently reads 12:48am. Dew hums.
"So, ten minutes? Less if I don't wanna be carrying you outta here?"
Rain nods, and Dew mirrors it.
"I can work with that."
Everything happens at once, and Rain's really glad Dew told him to hold the edge. He's not sure he'd be able to keep his balance otherwise; the combination of Dew's skilled mouth sucking a new mark into his throat, one hand teasing a nipple and the other exposing his clit would be enough on their own. But Dew has added leverage in his hips, leverage he can use to snuggle the ridge of his cock between Rain's pert cheeks and guide both of them forward until -
"Fuck, fuck, oh right - right there, shit!"
The babbling is never not embarrassing, but nothing gives Rain goosebumps quite like the way Dew laughs into his skin when he does it. He couldn't help it if he wanted to, no with the way Dew has him pinned right in front of one of those pulsing, overwarm jets. Every rush of water against his stiff little cock has Rain yipping and twitching between bouts of pleas and cursing, and it takes no time at all for Dew to get their hips rolling in rhythm.
"Listen to you," Dew pants into damp skin, licking beads of sweat from Rain's hairline. "So dramatic."
"F-fuck off," Rain breathes, eyes fluttering as Dew forces him into a particularly pleasurable position. "I can feel how - shit, yes - how hard you are."
"And yet I'm not mewling like a pornstar about it," he counters, pinching Rain's nipple hard enough to force a squeak. "That's your job, angelfish."
The hand on his chest comes up to give him the most condescending pat on the cheek, and Rain bodily sags in Dew's arms. His eyes stick to the clock.
"Six minutes left," Rain says, shivery with want, and Dew pushes two fingers into his mouth just because he can. Rain sucks on them, earns another 'good boy' for his troubles, and admires the string of saliva left between them. "Make me cum now and you can do whatever you want when we get upstairs."
Dew snorts.
"Like I wasn't gonna do that anyway."
Rain's breathless by the time Dew gets him positioned, thighs and clit twitching alike. He's flushed every shade of red, hunched over the edge of the swirling hot tub with a cheek pillowed on crossed arms, legs spread and hips canted into the stream of that brutally pleasurable jet. At his side kneels Dew, one of his hands on the back on Rain's neck as the other skates down his spine. Through the water, down, down, down -
"Oh."
"Yeah, oh." Dew teases, other hand holding firm as he pressed three long, elegant fingers into Rain's eager cunt. "You make demands, you have to accept the consequences, right?"
Rain drools onto his arm as Dew pushes in deep, forcing him even closer to the tub jet that is very quickly sleeping his end. Rain can feel that telltale pressure inside, coiling together into something brilliant behind his eyes and deep in his gut.
"Uh huh," he manages, eyes mostly closed and mouth hanging open. His brain has turned to a soup, the world reduced to heat and pleasure that comes in waves so high they threaten to drown. "Fuck Dew, fuck -"
"S'okay, you're almost there," Dewdrop tells him, adjusting the angle of his fingers, and a billion stars burst behind Rain's unfocused eyes. "You're already clenching."
Rain loves how well Dew knows his body.
"'M gonna," he's panting not a minute later, hips rolling against those wonderful fingers and the force of the jet. Every eager moan bounces off the foggy windows, surrounds them in a haze of lust that has Rain's whole world going fuzzy. "Dew -"
"Go on," Dewdrop insists, getting as close to Rain as he can. Panting in his ear, cock rock hard against his hip, fingers crooked so fucking perfectly. His tongue flicks over Rain's earlobe. "Let me feel it cum for me."
Dew crooks his fingers, Rain arches, and with a pitchy shout he does exactly as he's told.
It takes a solid minute for the spots to clear from Rain's vision, his cunt still giving Dew's fingers a few token squeezes as he pulls them out. Ticklish kisses pepper his shoulder as Dee drags his mustache along the soft skin there. He feels like he's turned to jelly in the best way, and the groan Rain lets out is one of utter peace.
"Needed that," he croaks, and Dew chuckles in response. There's splashing after that, and Rain opens a groggy eye to see the other ghoul trotting over to his robe. The obvious tent in his wet trunks makes Rain wish he had a tail to swish around.
"Seems like it," Dew agrees, tying the robe closed once more. Rain watches him with a dopey grin plastered across his beet red face, and Dew smirks at him. "Now get out here," he adds, fidgeting with something at his waist. "It's my turn."
With a wet plop, Dew's trunks hit the concrete floor. He picks them up, stands to wring them out, and Rain immediately hones in on the spot where there lovely pink head of his cock has escaped the confies of the robe.
"Yes Sir," he says with the air of a purr, and Rain doesn't even bother putting his suit back on before ascending the hot tub's steps. It's worth it to watch Dew's dick jump when he's fully exposed. The other ghoul extends a hand after Rain fastens a towel around his waist, and Rain gladly accepts.
Rating: Explicit (oh lawd they fuckin')
Pairing: A bit of polyghouls but mostly Dew/Aether
Featuring: A family argument. A family reunion. A man carving out a place for himself more and more each day. A spate of sickness. A coronation. A confession. An incredibly long sex scene. An exchange of words.
Word Count: 12.8k
Warnings: Back at it again with the corruption, lads. Maybe a little bit of virginity-kink, from the POV of the "virgin"??? Way too much worldbuilding, but you all expect that by now. Also some smoking. You know what kind.
This literally would not have happened without @forlorn-crows, without whom no-one in this chapter would have busted even a single nut, and @jimothybarnes who kept me sane, consulted on basically everything, and talked me out of more spirals than I can (or want to) remember.
Can you guys believe it's only been three weeks since I uploaded the last chapter???? Crazy how time works. Anyway.
If he could have chosen what the first dramatic event for the pack to experience after he officially joined it would be, the announcement that Papa would in fact be surrendering the papacy to Cardinal Terzo was not the choice Aether would have made.
Mountain and Dew, as supporters of the previous incumbent - the gaunt, almost skeletal man who seemed to be using his retirement to rule the Abbey gardens - were relatively neutral on the subject, and Zeph didn't seem to have much of a stake in the matter. It mattered very little to them whose orders they were following, they said, as long as those orders didn't require them to compromise their morals or wake up too early. And he himself didn't know enough about either the outgoing or incoming candidate to have an opinion.
But, apparently, Ifrit and Mist had very strong opinions.
For a while, Aether feared he was about to witness a breakup from the inside. He'd never seen either of them as angry as he did in the days directly following the announcement, had never seen Ifrit genuinely bare his fangs at anyone or Mist speak with real vindictive venom. It was one thing to see Ifrit squabbling with Dew - it was as much a fact of life as sunrise. But Ifrit trailed after Mist like a puppy on a string. To watch them aim barbs at each other like this felt like the world turning on its head five times a minute.
One night, when the snapping had turned to snarling and fangs were clicking a little too loudly, when Aether had slipped out of the room to take refuge in his own space, it was a surprise - a gratifying one, but still a surprise - when Dew knocked on his door a little later. He hadn't known the ghoul long, but he still understood the tension in his muscles, the way his usually-upright posture was curling in on itself just a little. However nervous he himself was about the arguing, it all evaporated in the face of Dew looking almost sullenly afraid. He pasted on a carefree smile, turned his music up just a little, and did whatever he could to distract his friend.
Lying on his bed tucked into that little nook, that warm body tucked against his own as they murmured to each other about nothing like kids at a sleepover, his whole being filled with a rush of contentment that somehow only felt half his own. With his back to the door, his body placed firmly between Dew and the outside world, he found himself oddly uninterested in the stars beyond his window. Nothing had ever been more precious to him than his beloved constellations. And now he found his eyes tracing the spaces between Dew's freckles instead. Speckles of moonlight scattered across his face like molten silver, spelling out stories he had no way of knowing and ached to learn.
A silence stretched out just a little too long. Dew tilted his head back to look up at him, his usually-sharp eyes softened into a gentle, lazy flicker of orange and blue flames. For a moment, Aether felt like he could live for centuries if only he could see those eyes every so often. Dew opened his mouth to speak.
Distantly, a door slammed, voices raised again, and Dew's whole body went tense and stiff immediately. Aether couldn't hear the words, or understand them if he did, but he recognized the voices - not that it could have been anyone except Ifrit and Mist. She snapped something vicious and pained, and Ifrit snarled like a trapped lion as his footsteps thudded across the room. The common room door opened and closed, there was the sound of shoes avalanching out of their precarious pile, the front door squealed as he wrenched it open, and then the walls themselves seemed to shake as he slammed it behind him.
Silence hung heavy in the air through the whole den. Aether hardly dared to breathe. In his arms, Dew lay stiff and unmoving. Almost without thinking, he pressed a kiss into the ghoul's hair, a futile attempt at comfort that nevertheless seemed to ease a little of the tension in his narrow shoulders.
In the hallway, Mountain's door opened, and his voice announced, loudly and with forced nonchalance, that he would be making dumpling stew, and that anyone who wanted to join in was welcome. Aether saw the distraction technique for what it was. Looking at the faces around him as they all gathered around the table, putting in the tedious hand-work to make the dozens of tiny dumplings and chop the vegetables and mince the garlic and smokeroot, they all saw it. But they were glad of it, even Mist. Especially Mist, whose vindictive glee had faded in the past couple of days, and was now a tension that seemed to hollow out her cheeks and dim the silvery glow of her eyes into worry and misery.
The next morning, when Ifrit slipped hesitantly back into the den and was immediately almost thrown off his feet by the force with which she hurled herself into his arms, Aether swore he felt the combined relief of all six of them at once.
He'd heard rumors of Mist's temper, her tendency to hold grudges eternally, so he held his breath for the rest of the arguing, even if the worst of it was over. But apparently, her fabled propensity to wrath did not extend to her packmates, because almost immediately the two of them were as close again as they ever had been. A few days later, lying on a nest of duvets and blankets on the floor of Ifrit's room while he and Mist used the big warm idiot as a pillow, he had trouble believing anything had happened at all.
"So you're not even gonna be one of, like his ghouls?" Aether asked, passing her the joint over Ifrit's stomach. A few flakes of ash crumbled off and onto an exposed stripe of skin, and he didn't even flinch. "He's obsessed with you."
Mist made the noise that always accompanied one of her more extravagant eyerolls, a tut crossed with a sigh crossed with a click of teeth. "Technically speaking, he inherits the papal ghouls from Bone Boy, it's a whole formal thing. Once he has the papacy, he can do what he wants, but Omega and the others will be his official guard at least for now. And he'll never let go of Omega, no matter what." She took a long, luxurious drag, stretching her back out as she exhaled. "I'm not wrought about it. Just because I'm not officially his doesn't mean he doesn't trust me."
"And at least this way, you don't have any official responsibilities," Aether added with a lazy grin, and Mist cackled.
"You know, I like you more and more every day, priest."
"Aww, you didn't like me before?" he replied, with an exaggerated false pout that he hoped concealed the pang of real concern he felt. Mist waved a hand dismissively, just at the edge of his peripheral.
"Sure, I wasn't exactly thrilled about you at first." There was a sleepy edge to her voice, comfortable and easy, a creature utterly complacent in the company of her own people. "But as long as you didn't cause trouble, I was willing to put up with you. For Dew's sake." She twisted around until she could look at him, waiting for him to do the same before she continued. "Then I got to know you. And now you're just as much rakhana as Zeph is."
He tried, and knew he failed, to hide his bashful grin. "Means a lot."
"Good. I don't say that kinda shit to just anyone." She gestured for the mug-slash-ashtray, taking one last drag as he passed it over and pinching the cherry out into the not-insubstantial pile of ash and burnt-out ends. "While we're on the subject. Lemme talk to you. Private-style."
"I mean, sure, butā¦" He glanced pointedly up the length of Ifrit's body, and she rolled her eyes again.
"Iff, my tits are cold."
No response except maybe a slightly louder-than-usual snuffle. She gave Aether a look of told you so, and he held up one hand in surrender. There was no way Ifrit could have resisted the urge to offer to warm them up if he had been awake - especially not after they'd gotten the room this smokey. "Okay, talk private-style."
She took a long, slow breath, watching the slow, steady rise and fall of Ifrit's tummy. Aether knew she was just gathering her words - English was her third language, after all - but there was something in her bearing that made him slightly nervous. Almost as if he could feel her caution in his own heart. "Listen," she began eventually. "Dew's everything to me."
"Oh, I know that, he -"
Mist held up a hand, and his mouth snapped shut with an audible click. "Now is listening time, not talking time." He nodded obediently, perfectly silent, and she sighed as she picked up her thread, glancing up at Ifrit again. "Look, he's my baby brother. And I've seen him go through some truly unbearable things and been the only one he had to turn to. I've held him in the middle of the night while he cried like a kit in a hailstorm. I've held his heart together with my bare fucking hands, Aether, I -" She cut herself off, silvery eyes closing as she took a shuddering breath, and Aether reached across Ifrit to squeeze her shoulder, the only comfort he could coordinate his lazy limbs into offering. She laid one hand over his, as much holding him in place as accepting the gesture. When she looked up at him, every single one of the badly-hidden tears in her eyes were like another knife in his chest. "I can't watch him get hurt, Aeth, not again. I can't. Promise me."
He frowned slightly, squeezing her arm rhythmically as his thumb brushed over the point of her shoulder. "Of course I don't want to hurt him. I hope I don't ever hurt any of you, I -"
"Aeth, please. Justā¦ humor me, okay?"
She sounded so desperate, it hurt. Too much like the night she'd called to ask if he'd seen her brother as Dew stood in his kitchen, covered in his own blood and wrapped in Aether's cardigan. But this time, he had no obligation to lie to her, to deny her what her heart so obviously needed. And the part of his brain that still belonged to his own sister wouldn't allow him to leave her hanging now. Clumsily, teetering on the knife-edge of his already-compromised balance, he held his hand out to her, wrist up as he'd seen the others do when they promised something seriously. "Okay, fine. I promise."
She gave a weak chuckle as she looked down at his hand, slowly adjusting her own position so she could wrap her hand around his wrist. Five tiny, deadly pinpricks pressed gently into his skin, just hard enough to be a threat. "You promise what?"
He sighed over-dramatically, enough that she would know it wasn't serious. "I promise I will -"
"Swear."
"I swear I will do everything in my power to never hurt Dewdrop. Lava and fog."
She laughed again, brighter and more genuine, and released his wrist in favor of lacing their fingers together so she could kiss the back of his hand. "That's a pretty serious promise. Even if you did say it the wrong way around."
"Bitch, I know what I'm doing, I know how you people work by now," he grinned, sticking the point of his tongue out between his teeth, and this time she couldn't help but laugh with all her chest. A bright sound, as merry and free as rain on grass, a sound that filled him with nothing but the feeling of home. Of peace.
And peace seemed in shorter supply by the day after that, as the plans for the inauguration mass grew more and more more frantic. At St Jude's, organizing events on short notice was almost the norm, and Aether considered himself something of an expert at it. But he had never tried to organize something like this. Something so grand and important, on such a huge scale and in such a lavish way. This wasn't some everyday event that could be cobbled together with the contents of a storage closet, the big printer and some hopes and dreams. This was the coronation of the new head of the Church. And, because he had managed to get himself involved with a pack with very close connections to that new head of the Church, Aether found himself closer to the middle of the whole affair than he honestly felt comfortable with.
He would make it through, he knew he would. But fuck, would it be a hell of a time getting there.
Every day, there seemed to be some new disaster to resolve, some fresh problem to find a solution for. Some were relatively easy - flights rescheduled for visiting clergy from the Geneva Abbey, or a broken chandelier that was a pity but ultimately not a disaster. Some were more unusual but simple to fix, some seemed simple on first assessment but took a whole team of minds to resolve.
And then, with barely two weeks to go, a flurry of illness struck the Abbey. Under normal circumstances, Aether would have dealt with it without a care - long periods of hard urgent work were hardly new to him - but these were not normal circumstances, even for the Abbey.
The way Omega said the name of the sickness - nightlung - made him shiver, even the very first time he heard it. Nothing that wasn't worth every scrap of seriousness in his body could be named with so much apprehension and concern. While apparently not deadly except in the most unlucky of circumstances, and (at least so far) completely impossible for humans to contract, for any ghouls unlucky enough to fall victim, it deserved all the attention, resources and effort everyone in the infirmary could spare.
So Aether and Jakob, along with the other human staff, found themselves completely devoted to organizing care for the ten or so cases that managed to take hold before the infirmary figured out what was happening. Meanwhile, Omega and the other hellish members of the medical staff dealt with the human illnesses - and, most importantly, stayed a safe distance from the isolation ward. Aether could see the distress on their faces, the pain that they couldn't help their own people directly. If he worked a little harder on their behalf, it was no-one's business but his own.
It was exhausting, but he couldn't help but admit that there was a little exhilaration mixed in there too. Even Alpha, their most ornery and difficult patient, admitted he was impressed with Aether's control of the situation as he finallly left the infirmary. And he felt no shame at all in wallowing in more than a little pride.
He'd helped - really helped people. Saved their lives. In just over a month, he'd achieved more here than he had in his whole doomed career as a priest. This, finally, was something he could really shine at. He hadn't been able to save his sister, and he'd all but damned himself, but finally, he could help everyone else.
As gratifying as it was, however, it also left him exhausted. With only a few days to go until the coronation, he was running on fumes, determination and coffee, and had simply put himself into the hands of whatever higher (or lower) power would take him. Like the rest of the pack - the rest of the Abbey - he was happy to just do whatever needed to be done day by day, and hope for a good night's sleep at the end of it. Whatever would happen, would happen, and there was no use even trying to hold expectations.
And he certainly didn't expect Bell to turn up at the infirmary with a small parcel of what would upon closer inspection turn out to be spring cakes. He'd seen plenty of examples since his first encounter with them, but these were incredible, meticulously shaped into stars and wrapped in paper and ribbon in the most beautiful shades of purple Aether had ever seen.
After a few pointed glances from the ghoul, Aether made the assumption that the expected course of action was for him to try one right away. And the first bite filled his mouth with such a burst of fresh, earthy spiciness that all he could do was stare. The cakes that Omega had shared with him were delicious, but these? They were on a whole other level entirely.
When he said so, Bell only gave a knowing grin and a click of the tongue that was almost certainly meant to communicate gratified pride. Then he turned on his heel and sauntered back out of the infirmary, conveniently reaching the door just in time for Jakob to hold it open for him.
"Nothing good ever happens when that freak's in here, what did he want?" Jakob asked affectionately as he reached the front desk, and, mouth still full, Aether held up the small pile of cakes. Jakob's eyes widened a little. "Bell brought those? For you?"
"Mm-hmph."
Jakob let out a delighted little cackle. "Does Omega know?"
"Does Omega know what?" the ghoul himself asked, stepping out of the office, and Jakob gestured for Aether to show him.
"Bell's started bringing Aether fancy little presents."
"Oh, he has, va?" Omega's usually-welcoming smile turned ever so slightly sly. "About time, I think."
"I hope the soundproofing in your wing is good, Aeth."
"What the fuck are you freaks talking about?" Aether asked, but both of them were already going back to their work, although not without casting knowing glances at each other. Aether rolled his eyes and went back to the notes he was transcribing. After the rush of the night-lung outbreak, a little weirdness from his friends was so close to the bottom of the Things He Needed To Worry About scale, it didn't even register.
Lying on his bed with Dew stretched out next to him later, still revelling in the ability to rest without worry for his ghoulish patients, he thought briefly of seeing if he could contact Aiden (or whatever more truthful name she had chosen for herself by now). But Brother Deo had installed a contact in the town to keep an eye on her and any other kids who might need protection, and according to them, she was safe and happy. There was no use in risking harm to either of them. She didn't need him anymore, now that she didn't have to hide.
The rhythm of Dew's voice stopped for a second, jolting him back out of his thoughts and into the gentle flicker of those bright orange eyes he already sought out more than anything other sight. The ghoul chuckled. "Where were you?"
"Nowhere important. Sorry, didn't mean to ignore you."
Dew waved the apology away. "I know you don't like talking about this stuff. I shouldn't have brought it up."
"Even if I don't know how I feel about it, it's her decision, not mine." He leaned in to press an affectionate kiss to the tip of Dew's nose. "And anyway. It's a big deal, right? It's not every month someone literally asks to be turned into a literal ghoul."
Dew hummed a soft confirmation. "'S a huge deal. She's literally becoming one of us. She'll be pack now, not just a Sibling." He sighed happily, and Aether swore he could feel the joy pulsing through his friend's body, like it was dissolved into his blood. "And you're gonna love the afterparty."
"Feels kinda rude to join the celebration when I'm not even sure I like why we're having it," Aether mused, rearranging himself halfway onto his side and pillowing his head with a bent arm. "But. I'm determined to be happy for her, if she's happy."
"It's not as terrible as you think," Dew murmured as he craned his head back to meet Aether's gaze. There was something behind those flickering orange eyes that Aether couldn't decipher - not yet. "I know it's scary to think ab- and it's right that it should be, your humanity is important, butā¦ Mn. I don't wanna talk about this anymore today."
"Fine by me." Dew made a soft noise of thanks as he rolled onto his side to mirror Aether, their noses inches apart, and Aether leaned in easily to steal a brief kiss that left them both grinning. "So let's talk about something else."
Dew let out a hum of contentment that quickly morphed into a satisfied groan as he stretched his arms above his head. "Got any good gossip from the infirmary?"
Aether shook his head with a dramatic sigh. "Polaris says the night-lung bullshit took up all the gossip quota for the rest of the year." Dew hummed in understanding, the sound underscored by the noise of the front door opening and closing and the low hum of voices as Mist greeted whoever it was she had just let in. "Nothing interesting's happened for days, unless you count Cowbell turning up with snacks out of nowhere."
Dew sat bolt upright. "Wait, he did what?"
"Uhhhā¦" Aether pushed himself up out of the pillows much more slowly, searching Dew for any signs he should be concerned. "He came in and gave me some spring cakes. Star-shaped ones. I still have some, if you want one, but they -"
His words were cut off as Dew grabbed his cheeks, squishing his lips into a contorted pout. "Are you serious? Aether, I swear, don't fuck with me about this, this is important."
"Yeah, he - oof -" Aether pulled himself out of Dew's grasp. In the hallway, whoever had come to visit knocked on Ifrit's door. "He just came in, handed them over, waited for me to eat one and then left. Then Jacke and Omega said something about the soundproofing and -"
Dew cut him off again with an almost giddy laugh, grabbing his hands with such a delighted expression that Aether felt the excitement in his own heart. "You don't even know what this means, do you?"
Any reply Aether could have strung together was silenced by the sound of Ifrit's door thudding closed. He could have sworn he heard a second, softer thud straight after. The kind he might expect to hear as someone, for example, pushed someone else against a thick wooden door. Gesturing frantically for Aether to keep quiet, Dew leaned over him and pushed the window open as silently as possible.
A few feet away, Ifrit's window was also open.
And voices were drifting out into the warm summer air. Two voices. One of them intimately familiar, the other less so, but still recognisable.
"Is thatā¦"
"Bell," Dew whispered, grinning with such giddy excitement that Aether couldn't help but mirror it. He pressed one knuckle to his lips and Aether closed his mouth obediently, both of them leaning towards the window to see what they could overhear.
Distantly, but very clearly, someone - two someones - moaned.
"ā¦ wanted me, you - fuck - you could've just asked -"
"How? Look at you, you're -" Ifrit's words were muffled into silence with a soft groan, and Aether didn't have to be able to see them to know how frantically they were kissing. "Zhunne, oldorun kuu tik, Bell, te -" Ifrit let out the most helpless moan, loud and long and shameless, and Aether's hand instinctively settled on Dew's hip as the ghoul shivered.
"Off," Bell demanded, breathless in a way Aether had never heard on him. "Get them off, eshtak, fuckin' moanin' at me in my own damn language like that, I need you two months ago -"
"At fuckin' last," Dew breathed, barely audible over the sound of the breeze and Aether's own heartbeat. He looked down at the human, his grin so wide it must have hurt, and Aether was suddenly painfully aware that he was on his back with Dew straddling his hips. "That's what the presents meant. It's an old tradition, you give presents to their packmates just before you make your move, he wasā¦" He gave up and leaned down to kiss Aether, laughing into his lips until Aether had no choice but to join in. "He's serious! He fuckin' means it, Aeth, he doesn't just want to fuck, he wants to try and -" Another loud, shuddering moan drifted in through the window, and Dew chuckled guiltily. "I mean, he wants to fuck too, I guess, who wouldn'tā¦"
Aether gave a quiet hum of acknowledgement, squeezing gently where his hands still rested on Dew's narrow hips. They unconsciously rocked against his own, even as Dew still stared out of the window, and Aether leaned up on one hand to press a soft kiss to the crook of the ghoul's neck. "Maybe we should give them some competition, huh?"
Dew huffed out a short, almost silent laugh, sitting back onto Aether's thighs and looking down at him with an expression that was so different from the one he had worn just seconds ago it was dizzying. Soft, happy - grateful, even. But with a shadow of something dark. Something almost guilty. "Nah," he murmured, leaning down for one more gentle, innocent kiss. "Let him have this one."
As quietly as they could, they slipped out into the hallway and through to the living room, where Mist and Mountain were apparently losing their minds as quietly as they could. Aether's cakes had not been the only gift Bell had given. Mountain held a beautifully-polished fossil that filled his palm as he held it like a treasure, and Mist was examining a small, hollow metal ball that Aether didn't recognize, but which she seemed very excited about. Dew practically bounced off the walls as he retrieved his own gift from inside one of his books: a sheet of paper covered in Ghoulish calligraphy that was apparently one of his favorite poems. And when Zeph arrived ten minutes later, out of breath and grinning widely, they were clutching their cane in one white-knuckled hand and a sheaf of sheet music in the other. Aether didn't know their significance for sure, but he could guess easily from the joy on his oldest friend's face.
While Mountain explained the way Mist's gift would cast patterns by candlelight through its intricate pattern of pierced holes, Aether happened to glance up to see what Dew and Mist were doing, and found her hugging him as tight as she could. He couldn't see much of Dew's face, but he could just about hear the excited tone of his voice as he whispered rapidly into her shoulder, and judging by the grin she was wearing, her brother's couldn't have been much different.
For the next few days, everything seemed blissfully easy. The coronation crept closer one step at a time, and they, like the rest of the Abbey, woke early, worked frantically all day, and collapsed into whichever bed was closest at the end of it, congratulating themselves for the work they'd done and making plans for what they had left to do.
Three days out, people started to arrive, filling the Abbey with bustle and noise and joy and life.
With two days to go, he began to believe they might actually pull it off.
The night before the big day, he dropped into Dew's bed, exhausted, sore, and still smelling faintly of wood polish underneath the scent of his shampoo and Dew's soap. He kissed a demon goodnight, and fell asleep with a friend in his arms, fire-warm skin pressed close to his own and lulling him into some of the best sleep he'd ever had.
And then, far fewer hours later than he would have liked, he was waking up on the day itself. Midsummer. Even with 4am a few minutes ahead of them, warm sunlight was already beginning to stream through the windows to bless the day ahead and set the tone for their new Papa's reign.
But that wasn't why he and Dew were already awake. The rest of the Abbey was still sleeping around them as he let Dew lead him through the marbled halls, hand clutched in hand and feet falling almost in unison, whispering and giggling guiltily like schoolboys on a snack raid.
"Do we really have to go this fast?"
Dew half-turned to grin at him as they ran. "What, you tired already?"
"No, but you're out of breath, surely we can slow down -"
"Worry about that later, we'reā¦ fuck, we're already almost late!"
"Late for what?!"
"You'll fuckin' see!" Dew let go of his hand momentarily to haul open a heavy ancient door that Aether wasn't sure he'd ever seen being used before. "Maybe if you hadn't spent so long in the bathroom we could be going a little slower."
"Lucifer forbid a man spend more than two minutes -"
Dew shushed him in between panting breaths as they finished climbing the narrow flight of stone stairs, leading the way a few yards down a faded carpet that had probably been a vibrant red in its time, and through another, slightly younger door. Suddenly the faint singing he had been hearing was much louder, the smell of incense much stronger, and he realized that somehow they'd ended up in the choir-loft of the main cathedral. But in that case -
"Dew, we can't just crash morning prayers -"
"Relax, that happens down at the altar stalls, not up here," Dew hissed back. Sure enough, when they turned the corner and saw the pews of the choir-loft, they were totally empty - but Aether barely had the chance to notice it before a sharp bony hand was being slapped over his eyes. "You can't look yet."
"Okay, but I'll probably fall to my untimely tragic death," Aether replied, and Dew groaned in exasperation.
"Fine, cover your own eyes, you can look at the floor but nothing else, okay?"
"Dew, what are you even -"
"Come on, please, just trust me!"
And, because trusting Dew hadn't ever led him fatally wrong yet, he trusted. Obediently, one hand covering his eyes just enough to let him look down where his feet fell and nowhere else, he let himself be led forward, until the front rail of the choir stalls came into view. His other hand settled on the rail as he got his balance, and beside him Dew heaved a long, satisfied sigh. Below them, the beautiful harmonies of the praying Siblings rose a little louder, prayers coming to a close. "Dew -"
"Open your eyes."
There was something weighty in Dew's voice. Something serious - not quite solemn, too full of excitement for that. But he could sense, in the tone of his friend's voice, that whatever waited on the other side of his hand meant a lot to Dew.
And that meant it meant a lot to him too.
He let out the breath he was holding and lowered his hand.
He'd expected to just see the cathedral. What he saw instead looked like the inside of a jewel.
Every familiar surface was painted in a thousand shades of dawn and dusk all at once. Reds lanced across ancient gray stone, oranges danced with yellows on wood and cloth, gemstones and sunsets blended together until the air itself seemed to breathe and pulse with color and life. The rich, heady scent of a millennium of incense and beeswax filled his soul with every shallow breath of amazement he took, the beauty of the voices raised in the final prayers of the morning perfectly choreographed with a beauty and passion he had never heard anywhere before. Even in the midsummer light, a hundred candles already burned, their soft glow melding with the jewel-bright stains of the rose window behind him like they wanted to paint the world in color and warmth and devotion.
At the same instant he realized just what he was seeing, Dew's voice broke through his reverie.
"This is what I promised to show you." His voice was quiet, almost reverent, so similar to the way he'd spoken as he told the tale of the six sacrifices. Like even the words on his tongue were holy, like they made him holy just by saying them. "This is what you came here to see. This moment, right now, is why you left the life you made for yourself, every comfort you'd ever known, every word you'd ever believed. Just to see this morning, because a demon told you it was beautiful." Aether felt the pressure of eyes, flickering with a fire that felt more like home to him than anything ever had, on his face. When he turned to meet them there was a smile on Dew's lips, small and almost uncertain but so familiar he felt like he'd known it forever and would know it forevermore. "Is it worth it, priest?"
The priest breathed out a soft, silent laugh and laid his hand over the ghoul's on the smooth wood of the railing. "It's worth everything and more."
In the painted dawn light, Dew's glamoured skin glowed almost gold as the uncertainty melted out of his smile, still just as small but so full of joy Aether felt it in his own chest. He leaned forward and rested his forearms on the wooden railing, and Aether mirrored him without thinking. He remembered a time when they'd stood like this before, looking out over a graveyard instead of a living, breathing church full of life and joy. "You still gonna stick around, now you've seen it?"
Aether made an exaggerated noise of consideration. "I guess so. I'm kind of invested in the whole Ifrit-Bell thing now." Dew tutted in feigned annoyance as Aether gave a grin of delighted mischief.
With a sigh, he settled in to enjoy the calm of the morning. Below them, matins had finished, and the Sibings were tidying hymnbooks and kneeling for their own private prayers and chatting softly together. In a matter of hours, this beautiful space would be filled to the rafters with people from every corner of the world, bustling and chaotic and joyful, but this was enough for him. This quiet hum of energy and happiness, the painted air itself seeming to breathe with life, with Dew at his side and with peace and community below them, was all he needed.
He didn't realize he'd let out a soft huff of a laugh until he sensed Dew's ear twitching under his glamour. "What's funny?"
He shook his head. "Nothing important." Dew raised an eyebrow, and he surrendered immedately. "Just thatā¦ it's weird how even sunlight feels brighter when you're genuinely happy at last."
Dew scoffed softly, a glow of affection curling around the edge of the sound. "Have you always been this poetic, or is the Abbey just bringing out the best in you?"
"I don't know. I've never been in love before."
The words simply fell out of his mouth, as if they'd been waiting there behind his teeth.
Dew stared at him.
He stared back.
Both of them as shocked as the other.
"Iā¦ What?"
He hadn't even known he was about to say that.
But now that he had, he knew.
Now that he'd said it, he couldn't work out how anything else had ever been true in his life.
"I'm, uhā¦ I'm in love. With you," he added helpfully.
Dew blinked, his eyes huge and round, the fire in them flickering quickly - more quickly than Aether had ever seen it dance. His lips moved soundlessly, stumbling to find words that wouldn't come to him, and Aether knew, so certainly that it almost hurt, that there was nothing in the world he wanted if he couldn't have this demon by his side.
"I love you, Dew."
For a moment the world hung between them, silent, unmoving, waiting.
They were close. So close, Aether could see Dew's chest moving as he breathed. Painfully close, in the boundless new world that already felt like home. He could make out every little freckle that dusted Dewās skin, each one painted a new and perfect shade of red and gold. And then they both moved at once, frantic hands grasping to cling to each other like it would kill them both to be apart for one more second, and as their lips met the world was right at last.
He'd kissed Dew before, a hundred times. He knew it intimately, the press of his lips, the angles of his nose, the feel of his breath against his own. He knew every taste of him, the stale mornings and the rich trace of wine after dinner, the shock of alcohol and the deep, earthy tang of weed-smoke. This was none of them, and all of them at once, this was so new it was dizzying and so familiar he felt it in his bones.
How had he never seen it before now?
He loved him.
He felt his back hit solid, sturdy wood and steadied himself against it, Dew's hands tight in his shirt and his fingers threaded in between Dew's braids and Dew's mouth on his because he loved him and he was kissing him and he couldn't bear the thought of one moment without Dew ever again.
Suddenly, sharply, Dew pulled away from him, hands still gripping the front of his shirt so tight he'd be surprised if there weren't clawmarks in it. Their chests heaved against each other, sharing breath between kiss-bruised lips, and Aether's questioning sound died in his throat as he took in, as if for the first time, just how fucking beautiful Dewdrop was. "Nuu lekh tatik-ve," the ghoul breathed, like a curse, like a blessing, like a spell, and before Aether could question it those lips were on his own again and his world narrowed back down to nothing but Dew.
He loved him.
Every moment he'd spent with Dew, he'd loved him without knowing it. Every time he'd looked at him, he'd seen a friend and nothing more, because his heart hadn't known the shape of love to recognize it when he felt it. But oh, he knew it now. As if some invisible hand had pushed him over the precipice, he'd fallen headfirst into the realization, and nothing could ever drag him back now.
He'd kill it with his bare hands if it tried.
"Dewā¦"
"Oh fuck, Aeth -" What slipped from his lips as easily as a breath felt like a prayer on Dew's tongue. Whatever either of them had planned to say was lost, each kiss broken apart by one only for the other to reclaim it hungrily, words abandoned for the feeling of lips and tongues and breath. "I -"
"I don't know who's up there -" They both jumped as a voice called from the cathedral floor, sharp and tired but clearly amused. "- but either get out or help out, we've got decorating to do in here!"
They looked at each other, wide-eyed, panting, alight with adrenaline and the thrill of revelation.
Their hands laced together as easily as two halves of an apple, and they ran.
He loved him.
The Abbey still slept around them as they retraced their steps back home, but even in the stillness the whole world seemed to glitter and pulse with new light, new purpose. Aether barely noticed the hallways and doorways flickering past as they ran. All he knew, all that his mind would allow him to focus on, was the hand in his own, the all-consuming warmth of the creature at his side. His whole world, all there ever was, all he ever wanted there to be, was narrowed down to one pair of hands, one body, one voice, one heart that he swore he could feel beating in perfect rhythm with his own.
He barely even noticed where they were, what they were doing, until they finally made it back through endless miles of marble hallway and into Dew's room. But the moment that heavy door slammed shut behind them, and his breath was knocked out of his lungs and into Dew's mouth as his back thudded against it, it all hit him at once.
And it hurt, fuck, it hurt to break that kiss, to pull away from a touch that felt like it closed a circuit inside him that had been open and sparking for all the years of his life. But it hurt so much more not to see him. Not to be able to look into those eyes full of fire, and need, and something that he hadn't been able to find a name for in all the time he'd known the creature in his arms. But he knew it now. It couldn't be anything else. Nothing that reflected the aching blaze deep in his chest so perfectly could be anything except a mirror.
"I love you," he breathed, half a prayer and half a disbeliving laugh. "Dew, I fucking love you."
"Te daluun kuu." He didn't recognize the words themselves, but the weight of them on Dew's tongue, the way the fire in his eyes flared almost to yellow as they rushed from his lips, told him they couldn't be anything else. "Daluun kuu te, Aeth, fuck, esktake te kuu giinuta -"
"How long?"
Dew laughed helplessly, a wild, untethered thing that seemed to start in his chest and end in Aether's. "Since the start," he admitted, freely and unabashed. "I told you, didn't I? Since the moment I laid eyes on you."
"Every night?" Aether asked, and Dew groaned low at the memory of those words.
"Sometimes twice." They both broke into helpless laughter as they leaned back into each other, trading kisses that were slower but no less desperate. "Couldn't help it, you were so fuckin' hot in that stupid shirt, couldn't get the image out of my head unless I did somethin' about it."
"The priests here wear them too," he pointed out, the last word cutting off into a sharp gasp as Dew's fang grazed his lip.
"Yeah, and I think they all look fuckin' stupid," he replied, before dragging the points of his tongue apologetically across the nick. Aether's laugh shook as he shivered.
"But I looked hot?"
Dew pulled away from the kiss, and there was a look in his eyes that Aether remembered so clearly it almost hurt. The look Dew had worn as he'd looked up from his knees like a pilgrim at the altar rail, the look he'd worn as he'd held Aether's face in his fire-warm hands and begged for the kiss that would tumble them into bed and seal Aether's fate at last. "It wasn't because of your clothes. It wasn't the vestments, or the church, or the fuckin'ā¦ the way you cared about the graveyard. It was you." Long, bony fingers wrapped around Aether's hand, dragging it gently but insistently between their bodies, and although it ached to put even an inch of space between them, the heat he felt as Dew pressed his palm over the hard, straining line of his cock was more than worth it. "I wanted you then, and by the Throne, I want you now."
"You can have me," Aether breathed, and Dew shivered against him. "I'm yours, Dew, now and forever. Whatever you want, you can take from me."
Dew's cock throbbed in his hand, and his breath trembled as he clutched Aether's shirt just a little tighter. "Youā¦" He shook his head, the movement barely enough to be discernable to anyone except the man who loved him. "I can't."
"You can." Aether pulled his hand free gently, bringing them both up to cup Dew's jaw and hold him in place, so the ghoul couldn't look anywhere except at him. "What do you need?"
Dew groaned helplessly, his skin flared white-hot under his hands for half a second, and he would have held on forever just to feel it burn him. Dew shook his head, his eyes closing in desperation. Aether just shook his head between his hands, gentle but insistent, and eventually they flickered open again, fixing him with a pleading look full of nothing but fire and need and love. "Iā¦ I wantā¦" He swallowed, his throat moving under Aether's hands. "Let me fuck you."
Aether's whole body froze as his breath caught in his throat. Even after all this time, he'd neverā¦ sure, a few touches here and there, when his cock had been down someone's throat, a few filthy words that were threats and promises in equal measure. One cautious, careful night speared on Zeph's long pianist's fingers, because they insisted on repaying the favor of finding his prostate. But he must have flinched away too obviously too often, they must have seen the apprehension in his eyes, and no-one had ever asked him for more. Months among ghouls had cured him of a lot of things, but the idea of someone fucking him, of surrendering the last vain vestige of pretense that kept him tied to the guilt of the pastā¦
ā¦ was suddenly the only thing he wanted.
Dew's eyes dropped from his, and Aether swore he could feel the fire fade out of his skin. It sent a lance of panic through his soul like he'd never felt before. "Forget it, you don't have to -"
Whatever objection he would have made never made it out of him. It cut off into a surprised whine, muffled against Aether's mouth as he surged forward to drag Dew into a frantic kiss, insistent and needy and saying just as much as words ever could.
There was nothing he would hold back from Dew. Never again. Not even this. Especially not this.
When they pulled apart at last, they were rock-hard against each other's thighs, panting as if there was no air left in the world.
But Aether only needed enough to whisper two words.
"Fuck me."
Dew's eyes flashed dark with fire in the dawn sunlight. Full of a ravening hunger, a fire he thought would swallow him whole.
And oh, he wanted to burn.
He lost track of how they got to Dew's bed, how their clothes vanished, how the whole world faded and shrank to just this one spot that held the only things that mattered. Dew's lips on his, Dew's hands on his body, Dew's skin under his touch. The blankets and furs of the bed they had shared last night, the fire they had lit together still smouldering in the hearth. His clothes mixed with Dew's on the floor and the chairs, not just what they had shed moments before, but forgotten laundry from weeks of shared space and shared nights.
How long had he loved him without even knowing it?
All he could feel, all he knew, was more kisses, hot and fast and needy. Dew's weight on top of him, pinning him to the softness of the fur beneath him. Warm, familiar hands hands touching him everywhere, cradling his cheeks and squeezing his sides and tracing over his chest. Catching on his nipples and drawing moans and gasps from him that felt like the most natural thing in the world, one side of a harmony that he knew would define the rest of his life from this moment on.
"I'm not goin' anywhere," Dew muttered, a breathless laugh against Aether's lips, and he felt himself pout even before he realized he'd made a noise of complaint.
"You clearly are."
Dew tsked and rolled his eyes as he reached across the bed to his nightstand. "I'm not leavin'," he corrected himself over the clatter of his one-handed rummaging. "Just gotta get this."
He forced himself to break the kiss for long enough to look over at the object in Dew's hand. "ā¦ I thought we didn't need that?"
"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know you had water ghoul genes too," Dew deadpanned, one pale eyebrow quirked up in disbelief as he snapped open the bottle of lube in his hand. "We can try without it if you really want, but I doubt you'll enjoy it unless you're suddenly a masochist now."
Aether's guilty chuckle was muffled into Dew's mouth as they reclaimed the kiss like they'd been separated for years. "Listen, all of my blood's in my dick right now, gimme a break."
Dew groaned smugly against his mouth. "Yeah? You so hard for me you can't even think anymore?"
"Fuckā¦" Now that Dew had said it, it all slammed into him with the force of a punch to the gut just how hard he was, how hard Dew was against him as they ground into each other. As much as it had been a joke, he really couldn't think about much except how much he needed this, how all his thoughts were nothing but a swirl of things he never thought he'd have. Giddy happiness, desire that consumed his whole soul without a shred of guilt, enough love to feel like he was drowning and burning alive at the same time.
Oh, he was in love and it was everything he'd ever hoped faith could be and more.
"Anyway," he panted against Dew's mouth, a wicked smirk beginning to curl his lips, "give it ten minutes and I'll have at least six inches of water ghoul in me."
Dew froze for a second, every muscle in his body stiffening slightly, before he pushed himself up on one hand to stare disbelievingly down at Aether's smug, self-satisfied grin. "ā¦ Lucifer protect me, this is my life now, isn't it?" he muttered, adoring exasperation dripping from every word, and Aether giggled.
"You still love me, though."
Dew sighed again, heavier and louder, more performative. "This is my life now. This is the kind of bullshit I gotta put up with from now on."
"Unfortunately, yes it is," Aether grinned, reaching up to pull Dew back down, and he went as willingly as a lamb to the shepherd's knife. "For as long as you can put up with them, I'm afraid you're stuck with my stupid jokes."
Dew made a soft noise of amusement, pressed like a promise against Aether's lips until he could pull away to rest their foreheads together. "You'd run out of them millenia before I even started to get tired of it."
He felt the delighted grin fade from his face into something softer, more vulnerable, as a quiet oh slipped from between his lips and evaporated in the heat between them. His hands tightened on Dew's cheeks as the ghoul - his ghoul - dipped his head again to lose himself in another kiss, and for a moment there was nothing else in the world.
He jumped slightly when a wet touch pressed against him, cold in a way he wasn't prepared for, and Dew made a quiet soothing noise against his mouth as spindly fingertips circled him cautiously. "You still want it?"
"I want you."
"Aeth -"
"Didn't we already have this discussion the first time?" Aether demanded. Dew clicked his tongue again as his fingers continued teasing gently. "I told youā¦ from the first moment." He smiled ruefully as his hand settled along Dew's jawline. "Even if I didn't know it at first."
Dew ducked his head slightly, eyes dropping away from his, and Aether nudged it back up with a gentle press of noses. "Justā¦ say it. Tell me you want it."
Aether's touch tightened as he spread his legs just a little more to cradle Dew's narrow hips. "I want you to fuck me, Dew."
Dew's fangs flashed in the dawning sunlight, a promise and a temptation all in one, and all Aether could think was that even Eve hadn't demanded her own downfall so eagerly.
The first press inside wasn't as much of a shock as he feared. The pleasure of the stretch rippled through his whole body and dragged a luxurious groan from him, pressing his head back into the pillows like some lascivious creature of sin as his demon lover opened him up. "Doesā¦" He sighed heavily, trying desperately to steady the tremor in his voice. "Does this mean I have to stop fucking everyone else?"
Dew lifted his gaze to raise an eyebrow at him. "What, Ifrit's not good enough for you suddenly?"
"No, I - I mean, yes, of course he is, but -" An especially well-aimed curl of Dew's fingers silenced him for a moment, cutting his words off into a blissful, shaking moan. "I just meanā¦ listen, I've never been in a, fuckā¦ a real relationship before. Or any relationship, really. I don't know how itā¦ or, like, ghoulish traditions. Or whatever. You know."
"Will fucking the others change the fact that you -"
"Never." The word snapped out of him with such force it almost hurt. He reached out desperately, and Dew slipped his free hand into his grasp like he needed the touch as much as Aether did. "Dew, nothing could ever change that."
"Then why should I care?" Dew lifted their joined hands to press a kiss to Aether's knuckles, never looking away from his gaze for a moment. "I don't want to keep you to myself, Aeth, that's not how we work. I want to share you with the world so everyone knows just how much the Prince blessed me when He put us together."
Aether swallowed with an audible click. "You really think that?"
Dew smiled to himself as he lowered his gaze again. "I don't pretend to know my Father's mind," he murmured. "But I do know that He Loves me. That He wants me to be happy." He bowed his head to press a kiss to the inside of Aether's thigh with a reverence Aether had only seen him show in the cathedral, and something deep in his chest throbbed. "He led me to you. Even if it wasn't His plan, it's by His hand."
The words struck his soul like a thousand arrows. "You make me sound like something sacred."
Another soft, barely audible breath of a laugh, another quiet gasp as Dew's fingers moved almost imperceptibly inside him. "You know the truth about the Fall," Dew murmured as his eyes met Aether's again. "What's more sacred to a ghoul than Love?"
Somewhere in Aether's soul, some wires must have been crossed long ago. There was no other explanation for the way those words made his cock throb in the crease of his hip, made him clench around Dew's fingers so hard he heard the ghoul - his ghoul - give a startled, satisfied hiss. "Fuckā¦" He groaned, loud and low and needy, and pushed himself up on his free hand, pulling Dew in for a messy, clumsy kiss that felt like the dawn was searing their souls together. "Fuck me, Dew, please, fuck, I need it."
Dew groaned into his mouth, fingers moving inside Aether as he nodded distractedly. "Yeahā¦" Another twist of his wrist, the barest stretch, testing. "Yeah, you're ready, fuck -"
"I don't care if I'm ready, Dew, I just fucking need you."
"I just don't want you to rush into something you'll regr-"
"You said that last time, too," Aether interrupted, silencing Dew's pained whine with another kiss. "I have regrets, Dew, but you will never be one of them." He leaned back into the pillows, never breaking the kiss and pulling Dew down with him until those narrow hips were settled perfectly against his own. Like they'd been carved from the stones of Hell itself to fit there. "Fuck me."
Dew growled, low and almost pained as his fangs grazed Aether's bottom lip, and somehow, deep in his soul, he knew this was the last time Dewdrop would ever hesitate to touch him again.
Maybe he should have paid more attention. Some part of him mourned the fact that he would never have a clear memory of the moment he felt the love of his life push into him for the first time. The first time they swallowed each other's moans of shocked, all-consuming pleasure as he surrendered the last tattered vestige of the dogma he'd sworn himself to, a lifetime of lies ago.
That part of him died as soon as it appeared. To have Dew fucking him, to feel him so deep inside it took up his whole soul, was as natural as breathing, as natural as feeling those flame-hot walls wrapped around him. This was simply the first time, no more or less precious for its newness than the others that lay ahead of them. Every other time, for the rest of his life, would be a better remembrance than some half-baked memory.
He wrapped his arms around Dew's neck, sank into the stretch of his thighs as Dew pressed them back between them, and forgot everything that wasn't this moment.
He loved him.
Dew groaned against his lips again, hips stuttering slightly in the luxurious rhythm they had picked up together. "Daluun kuu te," he breathed, and Aether let out a soft laugh, shaky with pleasure.
"Didn't know I'd actually said it."
"You takin' it back?"
"Maybe I will if you don't -" A sharp thrust, a little harder than the others so far, choked his words off into a whining little moan that the version of himself from four months ago would have been ashamed of. But four months ago, he hadn't been in love. "Fuck, never, Dew, I'll never take it back, I swear, I -"
Dew hushed him softly, cutting off what promised to be a tide of emotion with a gentle kiss so full of love it made his chest hurt. "You have me now," he murmured against his lips. "You won't get rid of me that easy." Five pinpricks pressed into the meat of one of his thighs as claws gripped him just a little harder and Dew gave a mock growl, the grin on his lips a sharp contrast to the dark, hungry sound. "You're mine now, priest."
"Fuckā¦" They both groaned loudly as he clenched hard around Dew, back arching and claws digging deeper into his thigh. He gave a breathless, giddy laugh as he relaxed back into the furs with a boneless thud. "Holy fuck, Dew, you can't just fucking say that kind of thingā¦"
Dew made a satisfied little noise as his nose nuzzled into the hollow behind Aether's ear. "Bad time for you to find out just how possessive I can get?"
"Dew, if I knew where it lived, I'd pull my soul out and put it in your hands." Dew's hips stuttered for a second, a low, almost pained groan tearing from his narrow chest and right into Aether's shoulder. "Every part of me is already yours, and I want every inch of you you'll give me."
"En, eshtak, Kuzhtal, shunne tehnā¦" Dew pushed himself up out of the safety of Aether's shoulder at last, holding himself up on one hand to look down at his priest with a mixture of love and bewilderment. He looked so innocent all of a sudden, Aether couldn't help thinking - like he'd never imagined hearing someone say these words to him, and now that he had, his whole world was changed. "Kuuā¦ giinuta te kuu. Te gyal."
Aether shifted his hips, watching the flicker of pleasure flutter across Dew's face, and he couldn't help but raise his hand to cup a pale gray cheek like it was made of glass and moonbeams. "Teach me how to say it."
Dew's cheeks heated beneath his hand, and Aether traced his thumb distractedly along the bottom edge of that orange flush. "Youā¦ why d'you wanna know?"
"Because you deserve to hear it." He couldn't sit up to kiss him, but Dew turned his head to press his lips into the hollow of his palm, and that was just as good. "I want to tell you I love you in your own language. Because I don't think you've heard it enough, and if anyone should change that, it's me."
Emotions flickered across Dew's face, and a few weeks ago he wouldn't have understood. But now he felt every one as if they were his own - the shock, the surprise, the realization, the way he instinctively tried to suppress the hope before he consciously allowed it to flare. The love. Dew swallowed shakily, turning his head to press another kiss into Aether's palm before he spoke. "Youā¦ there's two ways. You can say te giinuta kuu, but the iin can beā¦ te daluun kuu is probably easier."
Aether smiled, grateful and adoring, rolling the syllables over in his mind before he let himself attempt them. "Te daluun kuu, Dew."
For half a heartbeat, the look that bloomed over Dew's face was like the brightest, warmest sunrise Aether had ever seen.
And then, faster than it had risen, it crumpled into a hopeless darkness that sent a spike of fear and pain through Aether's whole body, so harsh and sharp that he feared he'd never recover.
There were tears in the eyes that already felt to him like the sun and the moon and every star Aether had ever loved. And he had put them there.
He felt himself murmuring quiet, near-frantic words of comfort, desperately swiping away the one tear that managed to fall with the pad of his thumb. He didn't even know what he was saying, only that he'd say anything, do anything, to make those tears vanish forever. He never wanted to see tears in those eyes again, and he'd die to make sure of it.
"It's not fairā¦" Dew mumbled, so quiet that at first he didn't even know for sure he'd heard it. He made a soft noise of encouragement and curiosity, urging Dew to continue, anything at all that might make the tears dry up. "It's not fuckin' fair, you gave me that and I can't even - I do, of course I do, don't think for a second that I don't, butā¦"
"Dew, look at me. Look at me." After a painfully long moment, Dew dragged his eyes open, meeting Aether's gaze with a look on his face that was closer to fear than Aether ever wanted to see on him again. "What d'you mean?"
"We don'tā¦ I mean, ghouls. We don't say it like that." Relief spread through him like wildfire, and although he tried to keep it off of his face, he knew by the pinch in Dew's eyebrows than some of it must have showed. This was all? This was what Dew was scared of? "Love is the Prince's domain, weā¦ fuck, we don't say it about each other. Keeps itā¦ y'know. Sacred. Reminds us how much He gave up for us."
Aether hummed quietly, a soft noise of understanding, just enough to show Dew that he understood, he wasn't angry, he wasn't going anywhere. "So what do you say instead?"
The little pinch between Dew's brows deepened, like he was expecting something else. Anger, dismissal, anything except this understanding and patience. Aether's thumb brushed against the ghoul's lip like a kiss, and his throat moved as he swallowed hard. "We say 'adore'. Or, at leastā¦ we use the word in every language that's closest to the - 'shtak, the religious meaning, in Ghoulish the word's closer to -" Aether's thumb pressed a little more insistently on Dew's lips, a silent urge to silence that the ghoul took willingly as that orange blush burned furiously on his cheeks.
"So, when you say 'I adore you', it means the same as when I say 'I love you'?" Dew nodded, the brush of his skin against Aether's palm like silk and joy, and for a moment he looked almost shy. It was the most beautiful and most heartwrenching thing Aether had ever seen. "Then that's all I ever want to hear."
"Aeth -"
"Dewdrop, I'm not going to ask you to go against your religion for me!"
Dew very nearly pouted as he rearranged his weight a little. "You did for me."
"We both know I hadn't truly believed for years before you found me." Aether leaned up as far as he could, and Dew, as if he could feel the need in Aether's mind, lowered himself to rest on his elbow so he could press a kiss to his priest's lips. Aether felt for sure it would burn the soul right out of him. And, really, what use would he have for a soul, now that the only thing in the world that mattered was a demon? "The only religion I need now is you."
"En, 'shtaaaakā¦"
Aether groaned as he felt Dew twitch inside him, and Dew dragged him into a kiss to swallow it down like wine, skinny hips jerking instinctively against his own. "Please," he panted, as soon as he could pull away for long enough to get the sound out, and Dew gave a whine like his soul was being torn apart. "Dew, pleaseā¦"
Dew's breath shook in something somewhere between a laugh and a shudder of fear. Aether felt a spidery hand twist into his hair, felt the fingers grab onto him like an anchor, and he wrapped his arms around his ghoul's waist with an insistence that promised an eternity.
"I adore you, Aether." His heart jumped in his chest so violently, he would have been shocked if Dew couldn't feel it through his ribs. "I adore you, I have since the moment I met you. I should have just fuckin' told you but I was so scared -"
Aether shushed him, nudging him into a kiss with a press of his nose against Dew's. "We know now," he whispered, as reverent as if he was in the cathedral before the altar - not buried in the furs of his demon lover's bed with a cock so deep in him he could feel it in his heart. "I know I love you now, Dew, I fucking love you -"
The noise that ripped from Dew's throat was nothing less than a snarl, possessive and animalistic in a way that made Aether's cock twitch. "We know now, and I'm never fuckin' lettin' you go, eshtak, tan kuu tikā¦"
His hand wrapped around Aether's cock, fire-hot in a way that his soul already recognized as home. Dew began to stroke as if he'd known all his life just how to make Aether unravel, hips picking up a devastating rhythm.
And all Aether could do was lie there and take, blunt human nails digging half-moons into his demon's ash-gray skin, a tangle of pleasure tightening in his core that already threatened to eclipse everything else in the world.
"Fuckā¦ God, oh my God, Dew."
"Yeah? You want Him to hear? Want Him to know a fuckin' demon took you away from Him?"
Aether shook his head against the pillows. "Don't - don't care what He hears. Not anymore."
There was that wounded sound again; it shook through Dew's entire body, and the way his expression darkened made Aether's stomach somersault just as it had the first time they'd truly kissed. "That's one of the hottest things you've ever said to me," he groaned, his head dropping heavily into the crook of Aether's neck. Sharp fangs grazed roughly against Aether's throat; a deadly threat to anyone else, but to him a solemn vow that his soul ached to echo.
For a moment he hoped, he wanted this creature of Hell to bite down and claim. Lay to rest once and for all the illusion that Aether could ever belong anywhere else.
"Next time, I'm gonna make you ride me," Dew hissed against his throat. "Just fuckin' lie back and watch you bounce on it like the slut I've turned you intoā¦"
"Holy shit," Aether swore, nearly biting his own tongue as Dew's momentum jostled him up the bed with every thrust. "Your slut, Dew. Yours."
Dew growled in appreciation. "That's fuckin' right." He lifted his head just enough to rest his forehead against Aether's, like moving too far away would kill them both. "Mine. All mine."
Dew tightened his grip, fist twisting in a way that made Aether nearly shout. He was close now. So close, it would have scared the man he was four months ago. "How do youā¦ oh my God, how do you make me feel so good?"
"Think I was made to," Dew breathed. "Made for this. Made for you."
The tension in him snapped, and there was no way in Heaven or Hell he was going to keep the pleasure at bay now. "F-fuck, I'm gonna cum. Dew -"
Dew stroked him hard and fast, his own thrusts dissolving into a messy, overwhelmed rhythm. Aether felt himself harden in Dew's grip, his entire being shook with need, and all at once he succumbed to the pleasure Dew had filled him with.
"Oh shit, fuck, oh God, Dew -"
Suddenly there was nothing in the world except this. His ghoul, the love of his life, deep inside him as he came hard across both of their stomachs, the stone walls echoing with a matched pair of guttural keens of ecstasy. He felt Dew's hips slam into him, rough and erratic, felt his demon's body go tense and taut on top of him, swore he felt a sharp shock of the purest joy he'd ever known that was only half his own.
And then Dew's whole weight slumped down against him, that lean, slight body suddenly pinning him down with all the weight in the world. And he never wanted to be free of it as long as he lived. Dew's breath rushed against his neck, ragged and shaking and blazing-hot, Dew's hands clasped at his hair and shoulder like he'd float away if he let go, Dew's cock stretched him so perfectly it was a wonder he'd ever lived without it.
This was it, he realized. This is what he had been waiting for his whole life. Not the priesthood, not his parish, not the approval of anyone he'd ever met. To lie here, in love, in lust, with Dewdrop. Marked. Filled. Claimed. Defiled.
Whole.
For a long, perfect moment, everything in the world stopped. Even his heart, even his breath, even the sounds of the summer breeze in the branches outside the window. Nothing dared to puncture the perfect bubble they had made for themselves.
And then he felt Dew's chest moving against his own, and then he was laughing too, both of them almost giggling in perfect, irrepressible joy.
"Fuckā¦" Dew breathed against his neck.
"Eshtak," he agreed, and Dew groaned in something that would be hopeless exasperation in any other moment.
"Nooooo, fuck, don't pick up my accent," he complained, kissing the hiss of displeasure out of Aether's mouth as he carefully slipped out of him and collapsed to the bed at his side. "I'll never fuckin' hear the end of it all."
"Maybe I want your acccent," Aether shot back. He winced as he straightened his legs out for the first time in what felt like hours, wriggling onto his side and draping an arm over the dip of Dew's waist. Dew rolled his eyes and leaned in to steal a kiss, the kind that Aether already knew with all his soul. The kind that never intended to linger, but always ended up lasting until he felt like he'd choose this kiss over his last breath. How had he truly never realized just how in love he was? "I want everything you have to give me, Dewdrop."
Dew tensed for a second, pulled back to look up at Aether, and for a moment he worried he'd fucked up already, broken some arcane ghoulish rule of etiquette and Dew's heart along with it. But he knew that look on his ghoul's face. It wasn't hurt or sadness. It wasā¦ thoughtful. Considering.
He watched his own hand settle on that ash-gray cheek, watched his thumb brush arcs across the sharp cheekbone, watched a decision settle into place behind the flickering orange-blue fires of Dew's eyes.
"Then I'll give you the only thing you don't have yet."
Any reply Aether could have made was cut off as Dew surged forward to kiss him again, something almost frantic in the press of their lips, in the way Dew wrapped flame-hot hands around his cheeks. He knew this reaction, he could swear he could feel the anxiety in Dew's soul, and all he could do to soothe it was to kiss him back until the ghoul pulled away. Just far enough that his lips brushed against Aether's as he spoke, one single word that felt unknowably heavy with significance.
"Iikhegat."
Fuck, he hoped, with all his soul, that his confusion didn't show on his face. This was so clearly incredibly meaningful to Dew, and he didn't even -
Dew huffed out a soft laugh, leaning in for another kiss, slower, easier. "My name," he whispered into his priest's mouth, and something sparked with half-built understanding in Aether's mind. "You know my name, Aeth. There's nothing you can't make me do now. And I'll do it gladly."
"Dewā¦" Something close to panic started to burn in Aether's chest. He didn't know much about the specifics, but he knew that to hold a ghoul's name, their real name, was an impossible amount of power. "Dew, you can't justā¦ We can undo it, we can ask Omega, he can take it out, I don't -"
"No, shut up. Shut up, Aeth." Aether's jaw snapped shut, staring wide-eyed at his ghoul, chest aching at the expression of stubborn insistence on his face. "I know better than you what this means, okay? I want you to have it. I want to give you this, there's no-one in the world I'd rather give it to, I couldn't say I adore you if I didn't, don't you fucking get it?!" He took Aether's face in his hands again, each fingertip a brand he'd wear with pride for the rest of his life. "Who else should have that kind of power? Who else could?"
Deep in his heart, under the fear and guilt, he knew it was right. And if Dew wanted to give this to him, who was he to refuse it? He was kissing his ghoul again before he really registered it, trading gentle, lazy touches with the demon he'd fallen in love with as if it was the most normal thing in the world, and Dew smiled against his lips.
"You always gonna be this easy to win over?"
Aether grined tiredly. The sun was risen now, the Abbey beginning to wake around them to a day that threatened to exhaust them all with joy. But right now, nothing appealed to him more than drifting back to sleep in Dew's arms, and waking up far later than they could get away with to clean up and get dressed in a gleefully guilty rush. "I'm not a ghoul, you don't need my name to make me do whatever you want," he murmured, leaning in to steal a kiss. "And I'm pretty sure you've known that for months."
He expected the sharp, faux-irritated click of the tongue that Dew made when he knew he'd lost and didn't care. Instead, Dew simply rested his forehead against Aether's again, and the sigh he let out was a noise of the purest contentment either of them had ever heard. "I adore you, Aeth."
"Te daluun kuu." The words slipped from his tongue as easily as if he'd been saying them his whole life, and in his arms Dew's breath hitched.
"Will youā¦" He trailed off, like he was embarrased just to want, and Aether held him tight. As if his arms could take away the years of pain that told Dew he even needed to ask this. "Will you say it again?"
"If you'll let me, I'll say it in both languages until you're sick of hearing it," he promised, and Dew let out a soft huff of a laugh.
"What if that never happens?"
"Then I'll never stop saying it." Aether smiled as his eyes drfited closed of their own accord. Terzo could wait. The coronation could wait. The whole fucking Abbey could wait. Nothing that wasn't in this bed mattered. "Te daluun kuu, Iikhegat."
Rain and Dew cant fight the pull to become even closer any longer.
I think I reverse-ao3-cursed myself by saying the next chapter would be a while ahaha... anyway this one's pretty much pure smut interspersed with sap; enjoy!
Chapter rating: E
Content warnings: smut, handjobs, grinding
Words: 11,325
Link to full fic with associated tags: Tumblr | AO3
Tag list: @jesters-immunity @ashthewaterghoul @jimothybarnes @zombiequeen777 @kentuckyfriedsatan @papaslittlesunshine @bloodfin <33 I know it's been a while so just lmk if you want me out of your notifs! xox
Read below, or on AO3!
ą¼»ā³āāĖ.ā¤ā³ā¤.Ėāāā³ą¼ŗ
Dew felt like his body was merely a vessel for the lust contained within it. His earlier shower upon returning from Rainās room had done nothing to relive him of the tension either, not really. Once again, his glowing marks had reminded him of Rain and how he would glow, full bodied and beautiful.
With his eyes closed, the glow almost let him believe it was Rainās hands rubbing over his skin, exploring, the distorting thrum of water helping him imagine his voice filling the air with his pants. He didnāt set the water to cold this time. He no longer wanted to extinguish the inferno; he wanted to indulge. Dew also knew that his own chilled touch wouldnāt come close to Rainās, not now he had truly felt it.
He was burning hot everywhere, but nowhere as much as where he ached for Rainās touch. Even the first ghost of his fingers was intense, lightening shooting along his spine making him gasp and lean on the shower wall for support. The tiles were cool like Rain, firm like his body when he held him.
Dew shivered as he began to move his fingers, water streaming down around him. The echo of his slight gasp warped within the thrum of the shower, letting his imagination begin to run away from him and build the illusion that the sounds came from Rain. He couldnāt fully mistake them though, not now he knew what Rain sounded like, not now he had heard his noises of pleasure breathed directly into his ears, his skin, his mouth. Dew could still fantasise about how exactly he would sound when he came apart beneath him however.
Not that Dew thought he could wait for that much longer. There was little he wanted more than to give Rain everything and take all he would give too.
He shivered despite the hot water as he imagined it, continuing to touch himself with increased desperation. The part of him that liked to feel fully in control of things almost wanted to plan his every move, already feeling overwhelmed with choice just at the ideas filling his mind. Dew wanted to touch, to taste, to take.
Even the best plans would fly away the second he was faced with his water ghoul in the flesh though, Dew knew. He also knew that whatever happened would surely be beyond perfect. It was Rain, after all. The best part of all however was that they had eternity for him to do everything he could possibly want.
With every jerky pass of his hand between his legs Dew felt himself tumbling towards an edge that had never been all that far away even from the second he had stepped into the shower. He wondered in the back of his mind what Rain most wanted from him, before he realised that it was no longer a case of if he wanted but what. Did Rain also feel almost greedy with how completely he desired him too? Dew hoped so.
He wanted everything from Rain. He wanted to feel his large hands holding him, he dreamed about feeling those soft lips and his eager tongue in places other than his mouth. He wanted to taste himself on Rainās tongue afterwards. He wanted Rain to fuck him, wanted the intense level of closeness that would come from their bodies connecting in such a way.
Dew didnāt last long. He came to the imagined vision of Rain knelt before him, his hands clutching the fire ghoulās thighs and his eyes fluttering closed as his tongue replaced Dewās frantic fingers. His knees almost gave out, the wall all that was keeping him from ending up loose-limbed and dazed on the slick floor.
He fell asleep to the same mental image of the water ghoul.
Dewās dreams that night were full of nothing but Rain. They werenāt especially coherent, more a disjointed montage of every moment that he thought would be on near permanent repeat for the foreseeable future.
Dream-Rain stalking towards him as he had done in the wardrobe department, every part of him oozing a knowing kind of attractiveness.
Then Rain in the new uniforms, coming off stage and removing his helmet just as he had done that day. Rain shaking out his hair and wiping the sweat from his brow just so Dew could catch hold of his face with both hands and pull him down for a kiss.
But also Rain pressing him to his door and the dizzying high Dew had felt as Rain had crocodile-rolled him to push him into the softness of the bed.
The electric feeling of his fingertips on his hips, imagining them exploring elsewhere.
His fingers might be cold but even through many layers of fabric Dew knew Rainās cock was not. In his dream Dew could ignore the burn in his thighs to grind on it, letting himself burn in a different way. Even just in his subconscious it felt delicious, electric and just so perfect. Dew wanted to do it again, to learn every press of their bodies.
The single roll of his hips down onto Rain had felt so good. He needed to feel it again, more than he even needed air. He needed to lose himself in the feeling, taking the pleasure that Rain would so willingly give him and giving him his own in return. Dew wanted to make him lose control and buck his hips without command again.
Dream-Rain had done more than buck his hips though, especially once he was on top. He had pressed into Dew with them, a chorus of his breathy moans, all overlaid as though Dewās sleeping mind couldnāt pick out the sweetest, sung against his collarbone. He ground his hard cock down against Dewās heat, his hands everywhere at once ā quite literally as his dream provided no less than a dozen warring sensations, unable to decide where it wanted his touch first.
The clearest ones to focus on had been the hands around his waist, retracing the path his thumbs had taken before. This time though he imagined them pushing higher, burrowing up beneath Dewās shirt, cold fingers tracing the planes of his stomach and following the ridges of his ribcage.
Another roll of his hips into him, which Dewās dream played from several angles concurrently, had Dew gasping out too. A shadow fell across him and his eyes that he hadnāt known had fallen shut sprang open. Looming over him was Rain, shirtless ā wait when had he lost that, Dew wondered ā and now propped up only on shaking arms.
Dew reached up for him, wanting to feel his cool weight on him once more. Instead he ran his hands over the imagined firmness of Rainās back muscles. Dew wanted to feel them in real life; he had seen him naked several times before but he hardly thought those moments counted. He wanted to see his body with purpose, with the time to properly worship it like he deserved.
He couldnāt think too long about that before Dream-Rainās many hands began to move again, stroking lower, spreading Dewās legs apart where his own clothes had magically vanished too. Even in his dream Dew started to lose control only moments later, Rainās touch however fictional being more than enough to bring his body to the edge again.
āRaināā
Dew awoke with a start in the middle of the night. His whole body seemed to thrum with the lingering pleasure of his dream, an uncomfortable wetness between his legs. He sighed into the too-warm darkness of his room. He missed Rain beside him, felt his absence as keenly as he had felt the arousal in his dream and its after-effects now.
He didnāt think that he could hold back from Rain much longer. But maybe he didnāt have to.
.ā½ā.*ā§ą¼ŗā½ą¼»ā§*.āā½.
Rain loved Dewās attention. Trying on their new costumes, all intentionally positioned laces and tailored garments, he knew he was at the centre of said ghoulās focus. Rain knew he looked good. More specifically though he liked when Dew noticed him, when his eyes found him in a crowd to just stare.
He could also tell that Dewās gaze went beyond the clothes or even his body though, looking deeper into the very depths of his soul. Dew made him feel beautiful in a whole new way, one he wasnāt entirely familiar with and yet one he yearned to become, for him.
Still, in the moment he chose to preen, showing off a little. Rain made a point of looking Dew up and down too, matching the hunger in the fire ghoulās eyes. It wasnāt even just for show; he really did look irresistible and it was clear that Dew could at least somewhat see it too. The confidence suited him, Rain thought.
Somehow that was the most attractive part. The way Dew held himself he looked as proud as he did on stage, only now without the pretence of an audience. He looked unafraid to take what he wanted. Rain hoped that was true ā there was very little he wouldnāt let Dew have. Every time Dew lost himself kissing him, making his intentions as clear as the finest crystal, Rain thought it was just about the hottest thing on either side of the Pit.
Rain hadnāt given him a chance to ask though, he had pulled him in the direction of his room before they were even fully inside the Den. Dew had gone more than willingly, following with an enthusiasm that mirrored Rainās own.
Rain had pressed him into his door before he could stop himself, trusting that Dew would have stopped him if he had wanted to. Dew hadnāt though, instead he had made it quite clear that he liked it as he clung to him, matching every ounce of desire pouring from Rainās lips as he kissed him with a fire that almost scared him. Dewās enthusiasm only turned Rain on more, his clear interest the greatest aphrodisiac of all.
From his perch atop his hips Dewās hair had tickled his face, every strand a caress that left Rain feeling almost feral with his urge for him. Holding back was hard, but he needed Dew to see the depth of love in his heart too.
It felt like Dew had set him ablaze though and Rain couldnāt resist rolling on top and pinning him, feeling some primal urge to claim and take. Best of all, Dew had actually reciprocated. It had taken every fibre of Rainās self control to stay calm when Dew started grinding on him and having the fire ghoul beneath him made it no easier. He thought he might have actually turned to dust if he had had to keep his cool for any longer.
The fire ghoul had made his interest so very clear and it was making Rainās brain want to turn itself inside out. Yet Dew had also left, walking away with the full knowledge that he was leaving Rain so hard it was starting to hurt. Rain understood him though, in fact he thought he felt the same.
For him even more so than Dew the romance was new. Rain was no stranger to the pleasures of the flesh but this was his first time ever having an emotional connection alongside. This was the first time he wanted to still be beside the ghoul in the morning. Rain thought this strange feeling of so much more than romance might even be more intoxicating than the raw sexual desires coursing through him right now. Everything was so much more than he had ever felt before that he was glad they had the time to live and luxuriate in every new moment.
Rain flopped back onto the bed as the door clicked shut behind Dew. The sheets were still warm from his body pressing into them, making Rain feel almost jealous that they got to hold onto his warmth for a few more minutes.
There was a new heat building in him though, one Dew had lit inside of him, one that was so much more potent than any mere temperature change. This one smouldered, refusing to be ignored, yet which without Dew there would not be easily extinguished. Rain saw no alternative but to give in to it, to let it take him.
He let his hand drift to where he was hard and aching, burrowing into his pants and tentatively giving his cock a squeeze before following with a few test strokes. For a few seconds the relief felt good, but then he felt himself burning up, too worked up and overwrought to enjoy it without Dew there to make it the good kind of burning.
He was too hot. Too frustrated. He needed to cool off.
Rain considered a shower. He was too keyed up to wait for the bath to fill and didnāt want to go into the corridor anyway lest he bump into a packmate. Upon opening his en-suite door he could hear the pipes rattling and immediately knew one of the rest of their pack was probably well into using up the supply of hot water by now, also putting a stop to that idea.
He wondered if it was Dew, also unbearably keyed up and seeking release. Rain imagined him, wet and naked as steam from the shower fogged up the mirror, imagined his quiet gasps echoing off the tile. He thought of Dewās face twisted in agony, his hand moving furiously between his legs. Rain thought about the arm attached to that hand, glowing blue with his own marks. And yet he was not there to see.
The growl that ripped from Rainās chest was unexpected, reverberating loudly in the silence of his room.
He couldnāt stay here thinking any longer, imagining all that Dew could be doing just down the hall. Rain needed to cool off. His own hand wasnāt doing anything for him right now, all he felt was the absence of Dew in every stroke of his clammy fist.
Rain hurled himself off the bed, stumbling on shaky legs, and headed straight for the window. Throwing it open he clambered out on long, trembling limbs and bolted for the lake. He couldnāt say why exactly ā it wasnāt the point in the lunar cycle where he felt a pull to the water ā but he felt an overpowering urge to get lost in its expanse regardless. The heat filling his room not being from Dewdrop was too much.
He shed his clothes along the way, a trail of lost linen leading like breadcrumbs back to the Abbey. By the time he reached the path down to the lakeās edge the faint curve of the moon was already cooling on his bare skin, the earth underfoot pulling him forward. Rain didnāt even walk as far as the dock, heading straight for the waterās edge and walking in as if it were nothing.
The cool tendrils of the water lapped at his calves, then his thighs as he ploughed forward, his skin lighting up at its touch. He shivered as it swallowed his still half-hard cock, the cold doing nothing to dissuade it. The visions of Dew that filled his mind were too strong for that.
Rain kept striding out into the lake, the gentle sway of the waterās surface welcoming the rest of his body home. He looked at his arms and the marks coming to life as he did so, imagining them as Dewās, picturing the fire ghoulās blue-adorned arms brushing against his heated skin as he fell apart.
One day he was going to hold Dew to his front and touch him just he imagined doing now, Rain decided. He was going to have him look down and see how the ghoul the marks belonged to knew his body just as well as he did.
For now though, the absence of Dew in his arms was still strong and Rain felt nothing short of jealousy that it was the copy of his marks that the fire ghoul was surely looking at, his tail lashing through the water. He growled again, the sound echoing across the water. Rain wasnāt accustomed to this new possessive streak in himself and he hoped it would die down before he disturbed Dew with it.
Embarrassed now, Rain wondered for the first time if he was actually alone. He listened closely for the sound of anyone surfacing to investigate the noise ā it would be just his luck for Mist to interrupt him right now ā but its was mid-way through the lunar cycle so the lake remained as abandoned as he had hoped it would be.
Rain dived beneath the water, hoping the cooler temperatures the deeper he went and feel of the water rushing past him would help him to calm down. His gills flared under the water, drinking in deep, and yet nothing quenched the fire. He drifted above the lake bed, barely making out shapes in the darkness, the faint light of the moon hardly making an appearance. That didnāt matter though, Rain knew the lake bed well from his previous time lurking down here.
He hovered for a while, still restless, none of the meditative calm he had felt down there before coming to him now. If anything it was only making him feel more restless instead of distracting him. Rain gave up and kicked off the bottom, immediately feeling better having broken the surface again. He had a brief flashback to the time when he had felt Dewās presence from within the lake, pulling him back to the dock. It wasnāt the same now, they were on proper speaking terms for starters, but he supposed that the interface between their realms of the lakeās surface was enough to trigger it.
Instead of fighting the pull he let himself float on his back, staring up at the moon while the water gently held him, as soft as any bed. He was sure he must be rivalling its brightness right now, challenging its light with his own luminous glow.
Rain took deep breaths while his tail kept him steady, the cool night air pleasant but still incomparable to the feeling of stolen smoky breaths from Dewās lungs. Just thinking about kissing him again Rainās hand began to drift, long cold fingers running over his stomach and down towards his hip.
He paused, thumb rubbing along its v-shaped path still somewhat absently. As he did so all his restlessness began to fade away, the energy beneath his skin coalescing under his fingertips. His cock stirred again, not that it had ever really softened, his fingers wrapping around it without him consciously telling them to. He could almost weep with the feeling, the itch finally scratched as he squeezed slightly.
There was nothing in his mind but Dew as he began to stroke. How hot would his fingers feel around him, he wondered? What about his mouth? That long tongue that had driven him half-mad out on tour?
Rain whimpered slightly at the thought, running his thumb over his already weeping head and almost sinking below the water as he crumpled in on himself at the sudden burst of arousal radiating outwards. The vision of the fire ghoul never left him, his burning red eyes heavy lidded with lust as he looked up at Rain through his long lashes. Rain was torn between imagining his long tongue laving up the side of his now weeping cock and his lips stretching wide around him as he sank lower.
He stroked over himself faster as his vision of Dew began to bob his head, hollowing his cheeks to take him deeper, drool gathering at the corner of his mouth. Rainās grunts carried across the surface of the lake far into the night but he didnāt care. It felt so good, more than just his own hand. The mental image was a powerful one.
With a few final pumps of his fist Rain finished quickly, almost shocked with how suddenly his orgasm had snuck up on him. He gasped and cried out as it rocked his body, his gills flaring open just beneath the surface of the water to take in more oxygen as he continued to float and take ragged breaths.
The fire was sated for now but Rain knew it was not extinguished. It was only a matter of time until Rain cracked. He dived back under the water and swam for shore.
The next morning Rain slept in. He hadnāt meant to, but he had had a rather late night, truly into the witching hour by the time he had crawled back through his window, the sun already considering her return to the sky. He had rinsed his hair out quickly before falling asleep, and then he had not wanted to awaken from a rather pleasant dream.
Still, he felt a little guilty when he emerged closer to lunchtime and saw Dewās head immediately flick to the door. Always the early riser, Rain was not surprised to see him up already, although he noticed he did look more tired than normal. Thankfully he was alone.
āHey there, Sleeping Beauty.ā Dew smiled, no shadow of annoyance at his morning having been in any way disrupted. āAll the excitement of the new costumes tire you out or something?ā
With his knowing smile, Rain felt like he had been busted. Simultaneously he heard a little truth of Dewās own in the words too, like he was projecting without entirely meaning to.
āSomething like that.ā
Rain eye was suddenly caught by his shirt folded neatly on the ottoman in the corner, the one he had discarded yesterday. He had grabbed the pants from beneath his window as he climbed back through it but must have somehow missed the cream linen in his sleepy daze as he returned.
He looked back at Dew, feeling his cheeks colour at the realisation that his after-hours activity hadnāt gone totally unnoticed.
āOh yeah, Mount brought that back this morning.ā Dew smirked. āI canāt think how, but he found it on the lawns when he was heading to the greenhouses earlier!ā
Rain mumbled noncommittally, but Dewās knowing grin never faded.
It was a slow rest of the morning and then an even slower afternoon; they had nowhere to be today, their last truly empty day before the rehearsals and preparations for tour would start up again. Dew was clearly tired after their late night, so they had settled to watch a movie in the main common room and have a lazy day. The rest of the pack came and went, most of them having occupied the sofas around them at some point or another by the time Dew eventually fell asleep on a couch.
When the others started drifting off for their own evenings Rain began to feel torn: Dew looked so comfy that he didnāt want to move him, and yet he was sure he would prefer to sleep in a proper bed. It was Aether who finally broke through Rainās indecision.
āGo on.ā The quintessence ghoul spoke softly from the doorway, having just returned to the Den to find the common room occupied only by the pair. āHe wonāt mind if you take him to bed. Or rather he wonāt complain as much as he will if he wakes up with a stiff neck, at least.ā
His smile was warm and encouraging, not holding any of the misgivings a small part of Rain always feared were lurking beneath the surface. It was so clear how much love he still held for the fire ghoul, and yet Rain could finally see how that now manifested in a desire for his happiness above all else rather than any kind of jealousy. It felt good to recognise that, Rain thought, he liked knowing that in some sort of way he had the blessing of the one ghoul who came closest to understanding his devotion to Dew.
Careful not to jostle him too much, Rain got to his feet and scooped the fire ghoul up in his arms. Dew was heavier than he looked, the hidden strength within him clear as Rain stumbled slightly as he adjusted his hold on him. It would certainly have been easier to carry him were he not almost entirely dead weight, but Rain wasnāt going to wake him if he didnāt have to, not with him looking so peaceful.
Rain was strong too though, all the years of swimming giving him the power he needed in this very moment to spare his mate from a few seconds of unnecessary walking. He brought Dew to his room, unsure if he would be welcome in his yet, laying him on the bed as gently as he could manage. Dew could finish his nap and then decide if he wanted to return to his own room or not.
Only a small grumble as he relaxed into the pillow gave away that the fire ghoul had been disturbed at all. Rainās late start and lazy day meant that he wasnāt tired enough to join him in sleep, even with his late night. Still he laid down beside him, content to watch over him until he awoke, not wanting him to be spooked by his unexpected change of scenery.
Maybe it was just because he was asleep in his bed, but looking at Dew was making Rainās heart squeeze in his chest. As he stared he also started to notice new things about him that werenāt there when he was awake; how all the lines in his face smoothed out, how he breathed with his mouth slightly open, his chest rising and falling evenly. Rain wanted to stroke his hair so he did, finding it as warm as though he had been laying out in the sun rather than just on Rainās sheets. The same ones he had warmed so thoroughly yesterday, his mind unhelpfully added.
Dew huffed slightly then, making Rain worried that he had woken him. Instead he just seemed to settle in more completely, hand coming to rest closer to Rain as though he sensed him, his tail finding Rainās and twining the two together. Rain turned off the lamp to let him sleep but he couldnāt resist wrapping an arm over him to cuddle him close.
If Rain was sleepier he would love to fall asleep this way. Still, in the dark Rain fell into a half-doze, still aware of Dewās breathing but letting his own eyes fall shut in the darkness too.
It wasnāt even that late when Dew woke up, snuffling slightly as he came back to consciousness in a way that made Rain want to study him under a microscope. He settled instead for kissing the dazed, still sleepy expression from his face when his eyes fluttered open.
āGood morning, Sleepyhead.ā Rain whispered into the darkness between them.
āYouāre one to talk.ā Dew said after a loud yawn, sounding very awake suddenly as he reached over to turn the lamp on. āWhat time did you emerge this morning? Not to mention the sleepwalking.ā
āI donāt sleepwalk.ā Rain blinked against the sudden light, less awake than Dew now it seemed.
āWell howād you explain your shirt getting halfway across the grounds then? I know it was the one you were wearing yesterday.ā Dew ran a claw up Rainās sternum, clearly invigorated after his nap. āI recall getting quite up close and personal with it.ā
Dew cackled when his sleepy mate didnāt have an answer for him.
āYou mustāve been having one hell of a dream at least. What about?ā
Rain debated coming clean about his late night lake excursion but decided against it for now. He didnāt think it made him look anything less than crazy and he was at least trying to pretend he had himself and his urges under control.
āYou.ā He said instead. āI dreamed abut you.ā
He wasnāt telling a lie. His dreams upon returning to the Abbey had indeed all featured Dew in one regard or another.
That seemed to take the boisterous wind out of Dewās sails somewhat, a slightly bashful blush rising in his cheeks as it always did in the face of Rainās easy honesty.
āI also dreamed about you.ā He said, biting his lip and not meeting Rainās gaze for a moment.
Rain wished he could crawl inside of Dewās head and get a scene-by-scene replay of what he seemed to be enjoying recalling.
āOh yeah?ā Sensing his chance to turn the tables on Dew, Rain pulled him closer to speak directly into his ear, making him shiver. āWhat exactly did you dream about, hmm?ā
āNot justā¦ that.ā Dew coughed, burying his face into Rainās neck. āAlthough you in that new costume was definitely in one of them. But you promise not to laugh?ā
āI never would.ā Rain said with all sincerity, intrigued now even as the potential details of not just that ran laps around his brain.
āI dreamed we were back in the Pit.ā Dew started, suddenly hesitant.
Rain shifted his hold, pressing his lips gently to Dewās hairline as he recognised the seriousness in his voice. This wasnāt a situation for teasing, he sensed.
āWe were in my realms, in the village I grew up in, watching a group of kits chase lizards around to guess at their future lives, just like I used to do. For the first time since I was their age, I felt this certainty, having you there with meā¦ The same youthful optimism or whatever you want to call what kits always have when they speak of their future mates, I guess.ā
Dew laughed softly.
āItās the first time those memories havenāt felt sad in a long time. Iāve got my mate now, just as I hoped to from playing those games when I was young.ā
āYou do.ā Rain squeezed him close, the sudden moment of open vulnerability taking him by surprise. āAnd Iāve got mine.ā
āJust gotta hope all those lizards I caught meant something.ā Dew wriggled to kiss Rain briefly before looking back at him with bright eyes. āI was really, really good at it, you know. Weāre owed a eternal life of joy, Iād say.ā
Still, there was a tinge of melancholy in his voice that Rain was pretty certain didnāt come from homesickness or nostalgia. It was one he recognised from within himself. The mourning of traditions skipped, expectations left in the dust. They might both be very aware that their lives were better now than they had any right to expect, but equally they couldnāt help but be sad about the loss of the life they had grown up imagining.
Rain couldnāt sit by the lava pools any more than Dew could swim amongst the corals and caves of his realm. In a way that was a small blessing: he didnāt need to think about the next obvious thing he had missed out on, of being able to introduce a mate to his family. It was simpler to blame everything on Dewās lack of gills
āItās alright if you do feel sad still, you know?ā Rain offered after a while.
āI know.ā Dew said simply. āI donāt think I do right now though. Not really. Iāve got you, right here, after all.ā
It was Rainās turn to kiss him then, sweet and soft and just as perfect as every one that had come before.
Of course not everything he had imagined was impossible. Aside from the more nebulous closeness Rain had always dreamed of, which he now saw was even greater than he had thought possible, there were a few things he always imagined doing with his future mate that were still very achievable.
āWill you let me see your marks again?ā
Dew blinked at him in the dim light for a few seconds before sitting up and pushing at his sleeves without questioning Rainās motives. The cuffs got stuck halfway up his forearms, briefly giving him pause until he seemed to say screw it, grabbing it by the back of the neck andyanking the whole shirt off over his head before tossing it to the side like it had personally wronged him.
His skin appeared to glow in the lamplight, looking almost like he was lit from within. Momentarily distracted from his initial quest, Rain took in the sight of the ghoul before him. He appeared as sacrosanct as one of the idol statues in the Chapel, all smooth, polished gold formed in the image of their creator, sacred markings inlaid as silver scars and turquoise and lapis swirls. How could he have gotten so lucky?
āYouāre staring.ā Dewās inflection was unreadable.
āI am.ā Rain confirmed when Dew made no move to stop him.
Dew looked like he was torn between shrivelling under his scrutiny and basking in it and was actively choosing to lean into the latter. Rain made sure that was a good decision.
āYouāre so beautiful.ā
The fire ghoul did finally crack then, tugging at Rain until he was sat in Dewās lap, long legs akimbo he pulled him down for a kiss. From the tightness with which Dewās tail had twined around his ankle it was clear he wasnāt fully conscious of its movements.
Rain let Dew take the lead, happy to be distracted from his original goal for now by his own personal demon of temptation. Dew held him tightly, warm hands worming beneath his own sleep shirt that Rain had only worn because of his presence in the first place. As Dew began to tug at the hem, his lips never leaving Rainās, Rain wondered if he would ever need to wear it again. He hoped not; it irritated his gills.
Undeterred by his own lack of coordination, that part of his brain clearly preoccupied right now, Dew continued to pull questioningly at the shirt. Rain reluctantly broke the kiss, lamenting that Dew hadnāt just deigned to shred the fabric so they need not separate. He crossed his arms in front of him to grab the hem and peel it off, the move elegant and sinuous, directly contrasting with the disinterest with which he then tossed it into the corner of the room.
Dewās lips had fallen open slightly, pursed so beautifully as he looked at Rain that the water ghoul thought it would be a crime not to kiss them again. So he did. Dew pulled away after only a moment though, steadying hands on Rainās face holding him softly as he whined in displeasure.
āBeautiful.ā Dew echoed, wonderment filling his voice. āCan I?ā
He hovered a hand over Rainās sternum, waiting for permission.
Rain wanted nothing more than to feel the warm callouses of his fingers, and he wondered if he would feel a crick in his neck the next morning from how fast he nodded his head in response.
Far more gently than Rain had grown used to seeing him, Dew ran a hand over his skin. He was tracing his mark, Rain realised, the very action he had gotten distracted from.
āIām sorry.ā Dew whispered, leaning in as though speaking directly to Rainās heart while his finger continued to run over the burnt scar. āIām so, so sorry.ā
He pressed a shuddering kiss to the branded words.
āDonāt be.ā Rain murmured into the top of his head. āIām not sorry to have it. Not anymore.ā
āButā¦ā Dew looked up, his loose hair tickling Rainās stomach he was so close. āItās hurt you. Itās so cruel. I was so cruel.ā
āYou were in pain, and confused.ā Rain corrected, tipping Dewās chin up to look into his burning eyes. āYou didnāt know what would happen.ā
āIām not sure Iāll ever forgive myself.ā Dew admitted sadly. āKnowing how much I took from you with itā¦ā
āDo you blame me for yours?ā Rain asked instead.
āOf course not!ā Dew sounded appalled at the thought, gripping onto his forearms and covering the marks almost protectively. āYou couldnāt control them.ā
āNo more than you could control mine.ā Rain reasoned. āTheyāre just part of who we were always meant to be, I think.ā
āI wish I could see it that way.ā Sighed Dew. āEvery time I think of yours I think that if Iād just been more careful it would be different. I knew you were a water ghoul, I shouldāve thought to watch my first words around you just in case, I shouldāā
āI forgive you.ā Rain said simply. āNo more shouldāves. Now, where was I?ā
He took one of Dewās hands in his, interlacing their fingers together and hoping it was enough to distract Dew from his spiral of shameful thoughts.
āMay I?ā He gestured at Dewās arms. āI always used to dream of this, before my marks came in.ā
Dew nodded, blinking a few times before letting his arm go slack for Rain to hold.
Tenderly, Rain traced a fingertip along the spiral around Dewās wrist.
āNothing can come between us now, not with a bond this long and strong. Your lizards were right.ā
Rain pressed a kiss to the blue lines before moving on. He couldnāt help but notice the slight glow his damp lips left behind.
āThis one, the sunburst pattern.ā Rain paused to admire it properly, the blue rays seeming even brighter against Dewās warm-toned skin. āI never understood why beauty was a sun shape. I always thought that the moon was far more beautiful. But I see it now. The sun in the sky was never the muse. It was you all along. The real sunlight, the greatest beauty of all.ā
Dewās cheeks flushed so richly at Rainās words, only further illustrating his point.
āLook at you. The sun wishes it could shine as brightly and brilliantly as you.ā
āNow youāre just getting silly.ā Dew grumbled as Rain once again couldnāt resist kissing his pouty lips.
āThe only thing thatās silly is that it took us so long to get here.ā
Dew harrumphed, but Rain knew he couldnāt disagree with that.
āAnd look what itās taken.ā Rain continued his soft trailing touches towards the upper portion of their markings. āBravery, to come topside, to settle our early misunderstandings. Kindness, to move past the things that have hurt us.ā
Dewās eyes followed his touch with nothing short of reverence.
āI thinkā¦ā Rain stroked Dewās whole arm now, the overall tapestry of his marks rather than its individual pieces. āI think maybe these ones in particular were the ones you caught onto for a reason. They belong to you just as much as they do to me.ā
āWhich ones wouldnāt, then?ā Dew dodged the compliment with a speed that would be almost impressive if Rain hadnāt wanted him to know and understand what he already saw to be the truth.
It didnāt matter though, Rain thought. He had eternity to repeat himself.
āIf this is our connection. And this is beauty.ā Dewās free hand traced along the arm holding his. āKindness and braveryā¦ā
Dewās touch paused at the edges of the marks that were familiar to him. From there he followed a single line up the inside of his elbow, making Rain shiver at his feather-light touch.
āThen whatās this one?ā He paused as the line branched out into many smaller paths curling over Rainās bicep.
āFamily.ā Rain couldnāt stop the tinge of sadness leaking into his voice. āClose bonds, a large pod. Like I used to have, I suppose.ā
āThe pack.ā Dew said without missing a beat, full of conviction. āTheyāre our family now.ā
Our family. Rain liked the sound of that. He liked it so much, in fact, that it felt as though it immediately grew roots and embedded itself permanently into his psyche.
Dew pressed a kiss to the bottom of the mark, to the stem of the branching pattern. His fingers lingered there for a while before moving on, slowly trailing upwards towards his shoulder. He grazed over the patch of rough scales there and then along the side of Rainās neck, narrowly missing his gills.
Rain shivered at the feeling, Dew seemingly knowing just how sensitive the skin around them was from the way he smirked. The expression fell as he followed a new line lower, a lazy looping one mostly covered by his own soul mark.
āWhatās this one?ā He asked quietly. āThe one hidden my horrible words.ā
āPride, or more accurately vanity. Conceit, even.ā Rain chuckled slightly.
The irony that Dewās mark, at one point his greatest shame, had also erased so much of his confidence in himself and his appearance was somewhat amusing now that it occurred to him, especially now that with his time topside he had felt it returning in spades.
āI think your mark covering it might be what helped that side of me fade, too.ā
āFade?ā Dew barked out a disbelieving laugh. āIād love to see how you were before this if thatās true!ā
āYou know, I never really saw that one in myself.ā Rain sniffed, partly for show. āThereās nothing wrong with knowing you look good. Besides, everyone always told me I had good marks, why wouldnāt I be pleased about that?ā
Dew continued snickering.
āI wasnāt wrong the first time then, was I, about there not being a mark for humble in sight!ā
Rain kept pretending to be offended although he wasnāt in the slightest. This seemed to be bringing Dew amusement though and that was what he wanted, more than him lamenting over the soul mark Rain had already grown to make peace with. The distraction didnāt last long however.
āYour marks are all so beautiful, even aside from their meanings,ā Dew sighed sadly, āand then thereās mineā¦ How can you forgive me?ā
āItās the easiest thing Iāve ever done.ā Rain said honestly. āThereās hardly anything to forgive. You werenāt to know a moment of temper would do this to me.ā
Dew still looked torn.
āI did used to think the contrast of it was ugly. Like a burn that wouldnāt heal.ā Rain admitted, taking Dewās arm in his once more. āThen I saw your marks, and thought the same contrast was so beautiful. I felt jealous. But now?ā
Rain pressed a kiss to Dewās fingertips and held them to his own mark.
āIāve come around to it. Itās like a reminder of how far weāve come, a battle scar to be proud of.ā
āIt doesnāt seem fair that you have to bear it alone though.ā Dew said. āI get your pretty marks with such nice meanings and you get me calling you names.ā
āI think you have your own scars to wear.ā Rain carefully ghosted a finger over one of the raised lines on Dewās chest to illustrate his words. āNot these, I donāt mean. But mentally. I think youāre still punishing yourself for my mark, even now.ā
Dewās silence said more than any words could.
āIāll keep telling you that you donāt have to for as long as we have though.ā He rubbed a thumb over the line around Dewās wrist, interlocking their long fingers together. āAnd I think thatās going to be a while, so youād better get used to it!ā
Finally, Dew smiled again.
āBesides,ā Rain purred, leaning in to nose against Dewās jaw and breathing words directly into his ear. āIt could be worse. It could just say nice ass or something.ā
Dew giggled, likely at the tickle of Rainās words as much as anything.
āYou do have a nice ass though.ā
āYeah?ā
āI knew it!ā Dew launched himself up onto his knees, triumphant, hands resting on Rainās waist for balance. āMy mark erased nothing!ā
āNow, whoās to say that was the only place that mark appeared?ā Rain teased.
āIād better take a closer look then.ā Dewās eyes flashed at the challenge.
He pressed a single finger to Rainās chest, pushing lightly. The water ghoul willingly fell backwards, landing softly before Dew prowled forward on hands and knees. Rain felt his breath catch in his throat as Dew smirked at him with all his fangs.
āSo, thereās one under here.ā Dew stroked over his mark, leaning in to press a kiss to it.
He ran a hand lower, down the centre of Rainās sternum slow enough that he could stop him at any time. Rain had no intention of that though. He felt the warmth in Dewās fingers through the layers of skin, bone and muscle, right inside his heart. It quickened at the heat. Dew followed every slow touch with a kiss.
āHow about over here.ā He brushed the warmth of his palm over the soft curve of Rainās right pectoral, squeezing oh so slightly before ghosting a thumb over the nipple.
Rain sucked in a breath, body going stiff as every nerve ending suddenly lit up simultaneously. Dewās touch was electric, like nothing he had ever felt before. It made him feel like he was floating, consumed by a fuzzy kind of bliss.
Slowly, more purposefully, Dew swiped his thumb over the pebbled nub again. Rain heard himself whimper, the quiet sound morphing into a yell as Dew followed the motion with a flat pass of his tongue. Rain hadnāt thought that he could feel his touch any more intensely until he did. His hands flew up to hold Dew against him, hands tangling in his hair.
āNothing here.ā Dew whispered smoothly, his breath cooling his saliva and making Rain shiver. āBetter keep looking.ā
Slowly, almost painfully so, Dew kissed his way across to the other side of his chest, stroking over the defined muscles and following with his mouth. Rain gave in to the overwhelming feeling, letting the soft mattress absorb him as his eyes fell shut.
Dew shifted to sit up, now fully seated on Rainās hips, and the water ghoul groaned as he pressed into his stiffening cock. He seemed to be aware of what he was doing, smirking as he wiggled under the guise of getting comfy. Rainās hands fell to Dewās waist, needing both to hold on for dear life and to feel more of his heat.
Almost gleefully, Dew smoothed both his hands down Rainās front, over his abs and settling on the slight softness of his stomach. Every touch was both totally new and yet perfectly familiar. Rain hadnāt felt such a sense of overwhelming completeness since they had first kissed, every nerve in his body singing out in delight.
Continuing his slow exploration Dew trailed a finger along the curve of Rainās hip bones, following the path of one lower until his sleep shorts stopped him and then tracing along the edge of the waistband to drag back up the other. It was there he found what he was looking for, the meandering swirl leading lazily from his hip down under his pyjamas.
With a triumphant hum Dew shuffled backwards so he could lean in and look closer, bringing his face in until his nose was almost touching him. Rain lamented the loss of his weight on him but didnāt get a chance to dwell on it for long before he could feel Dewās hot breath grazing his skin.
The fire ghoul pressed a kiss to the mark, searing lips connecting right at the point where it vanished beneath fabric. Dew must have been able to tell how hard he was through his thin sleep shorts; slightly to the right and his chin would have been brushing against the obvious bulge. He made no sign to acknowledge that though, even as Rain let out a shuddering groan.
āI like this side of you too, you know.ā Dew murmured against the mark, lips tickling. āThe self-confidence.ā
āY-yeah?ā
āYeah. Itās hot.ā
Dew kissed back up his torso then, crawling forwards to plant himself back in Rainās lap as the water ghoul sat back up to meet him. He ground his hips once more as he pulled Rain into a kiss far messier than any that had come before.
Rain could taste the slightest hint of saltwater on Dewās tongue. He wanted more, he realised, wanted to taste himself more strongly, wanted to taste both himself and Dew, together.
āYouāre hot.ā
āI think youāll findāā Rainās already tenuous grasp on words was interrupted by another circle of Dewās hips. āThatās you. Fire ghoul.ā
Dewās laugh was filled both with joy and clear lust. It was obvious that everything about this, about Rain, was utterly delightful to him, their teeth almost colliding as he threw himself into another kiss. He was taking full advantage of his position on top of Rain, as well as the water ghoulās slowly melting brain, to lead them exactly as he saw fit. Hot really was the only word Rain could conjure to describe it.
With Dew distracted but not ceasing his maddening movements on top of where Rain was straining at the seams of his pants, Rain let his own hands begin to explore. He couldnāt reach far, didnāt want to break the kiss to do so nor did he think Dew would be amused by that, so he settled for roaming them over his back, lean but muscular in a way that hinted at his true deceptive strength.
Rain splayed his large hands wide across his skin, moving them slowly as though he were trying to hold every inch of him at once. His palms stroked over his back, his thumbs stretched to feel the curve of his ribcage, his fingers held to the softness of his waist. He tried to commit every part to memory, not because he feared losing Dew but because he couldnāt think of any other act that could come close to immortalising him as fully as he deserved in that moment.
With every pleased noise Dew made Rain grew a little braver, let the tips of his fingers dance a little lower. He dipped them sightly beneath the waistband of Dewās pyjama pants, a small question Dew could choose to ignore. He didnāt though, wasting no time in wriggling out of them in a distinctly undignified fashion that made Rain want to grasp him tighter and growl.
Uncoordinated but uncaring, Dew returned to straddling Rain, now wearing only a thin pair of cotton boxers. With one less layer of fabric separating them Rain could feel the heat radiating off of Dew even more strongly, but even that was nothing compared to the heat of Dewās now bare legs pressed on either side of Rainās, skin on skin.
The fire ghoul couldnāt seem to get comfortable, wriggling and shifting in such a way that Rain couldnāt stop his hips from bucking upwards into Dew. That seemed to have partly been his intention, judging from how Rain felt his lips spread wide in a smirk against him.
āDo that again.ā Dew purred.
Rain didnāt need telling twice. More controlled this time he rolled his hips, slowly pressing the stiffness of his aching cock upwards into Dewās heat. Their resulting groans harmonised, Dew rocking to meet him. They began to find a shaky rhythm as Rain thrust towards him again, hardly able to consider stopping now he had started, especially not with Dewās feverish breaths filling his mouth.
āRaināā Dew panted, sounding as affected as Rain felt already. āFeels soā Lucifer!ā
His hand flew to where their bodies met and Rain felt rather than saw Dew press his fingers to himself through his underwear, keening and rolling his whole body into his sudden touch. Rain could do nothing but watch, stunned and almost paralysed by lust as the beautiful demon above him became momentarily lost in chasing the sudden spike of pleasure.
As the wave of unassailable desire that had overcome Dew apparently began to ebb, the fire ghoul blinked rapidly as though not entirely sure when he had lost control of his faculties. His eyes, when Rain was finally able to focus on them, were almost entirely black, his pupils blown wide with lust.
Rain leaned back on his hands to take in the full sight before him. Dew looked simply otherworldly, all flushed and glowing skin, heaving chest and increasingly messy hair all conspiring to make Rain almost want to weep.
āToo much?ā Dew panted, although the minute gyrations of his hips didnāt stop completely. āSorry, I didnātāā
āNo.ā Rain shook his head hard enough to make himself dizzy, although that was possibly not helped by all the blood in his body currently flowing south. āNever.ā
āCan I?ā Dew gestured with the hand that had been touching himself, the one not being used for balance, at the large bulge in Rainās sleep shorts.
The water ghoul didnāt know entirely what he was asking, but he didnāt care. He nodded enthusiastically, delighting in how Dew licked his lips just slightly before leaning forward and kissing him in a way that seemed almost chaste compared to the last few minutes.
For a moment Rain remained in the dark about Dewās intentions, letting him push him onto his back once more and fuss to ensure he had a pillow behind his head. Rain was grateful for it, not for the comfort of his own neck but rather because the angle gave him the perfect view as Dew shuffled around once more, straddling one of his thighs, one knee placed carefully and tantalisingly between Rainās legs.
He didnāt have to wait for long to find out as Dew began to grind his hips again, this time against the long line of Rainās muscular thigh. Rain ached to touch, to be touched, but he was too far gone already to give Dew all the softness and intention he wanted to. Next time, he told himself. He settled instead for running his hands up and down Dewās ribs, thumbing over the soft skin covering his hip bones. Dew moaned loudly at his touch so he was clearly doing something right.
Then, once Dew had found his rhythm, Rain lost the ability to do more than just hold on for dear life, his tail also twining around Dewās leg once more like a mooring line in a storm as Dew finally touched him where he needed it most. Slowly, torturously so, the fire ghoulās burning hot hand came to rest over the bulge in Rainās pants.
His touch was tentative at first, testing the waters but clearly finding them warm and pleasant as the pressure of his hand grew firmer. Slowly, oh so maddeningly slowly, Dew began rubbing his hand over his clothed cock, fingers dragging over the aching length beneath in a quiet exploration. Dew was barely moving yet it felt like so much.
The fire ghoulās hands were so hot, their heat mixing with the raging inferno he had lit inside of Rain as the burning pleasure of his touch already began to spread through his body. Rain had never felt such intensity, never wanted this to end even as he sensed the familiar beginnings of his body rising towards an edge. It was still a way off for now which he was grateful for, given that he had never felt it build so quickly before. He wanted to exist in this moment forever, and Dew was still only touching him over his sleep pants.
They didnāt stay that way for long though. Dew paused his grind on Rainās thigh, the burning heat of his cunt settling in one place for a moment to pull at Rainās waistband.
āPlease?ā He asked, voice an octave lower than usual and totally ragged already.
Rain had no words, couldnāt make his vocal chords form complex sounds if his life depended on it. He jerked his chin, hoping it resembled a nod enough for Dew to understand.
It seemed to work. Dew pulled again at the elastic, Rain lifting his hips so Dew could shimmy the shorts just low enough to pull Rain free. He mewled softly as the air of the room hit him, feeling himself throb under Dewās light fingertips.
His hand was even hotter, bare skin on bare skin. Dew licked his lips again and for a moment Rain wondered if he was going to take him into his mouth. He wasnāt sure he would survive that right now, already far too worked up.
Dew didnāt though, settling for wrapping long, deft fingers around him. He began to stroke, slowly at first. Rain had already been leaking precum and that didnāt stop now, Dew gathering some on an upstroke to ease the glide of his hand.
It was like nothing Rain had ever felt. Dewās hand was so hot, squeezing him just right. It made Rain wonder how it would feel to be inside Dew, to bury himself in the hot clutch of his body, should he even want that.
When Rain eventually found the wherewithal to open his eyes the sight before him almost sent him over the edge there and then. Dew, head thrown back in pleasure, had his hand in his own pants now as he writhed against Rainās thigh and his own fingers. Where the fabric pulled low Rain could see the start of a trail of wiry hairs that he was struck with the sudden urge to scratch his blunt glamoured fingernails through.
What really embedded itself in Rainās brain though were his arms, bearing the marks they now shared. His marks originally, on Dew, with his hands on both himself and Rain. It lit a whole other fire in him, one that was some kind of possessive, that felt like a claim.
He didnāt hear the growl building in his chest until it was too late, until Dewās eyes were locked onto his and an awed and delighted expression was dawning on his face alongside the slight slackness of his own pleasure. Rain didnāt try and stop himself, instead giving in to his impulses and letting his hands fall to grip Dewās thighs as they continued to flex beneath his touch, his claws just ghosting over the skin without threatening to puncture it.
Dew was vocalising with every pant now. Rain wasnāt sure he was entirely aware of that either, his movements also getting less coordinated. Rain was so close to the edge himself; he fought to keep his eyes on Dew as the fire within him started to burn out of control.
It was worth it though as he saw Dew tumble headfirst into his own climax first, his whole body seizing up. His thighs clenched around Rainās, the most agonisingly wonderful noise falling from his lips. His eyes flutter closed and his jaw fell open, the very picture of a ghoul entirely consumed by pleasure.
Even while he rode out the tsunami of ecstasy clearly washing over him he didnāt release his hand from around Rainās cock, nor did he stop the motion of his fist even as his motions grew jerky. He squeezed slightly harder than he meant to right as Rainās tip was within his fist, speeding up as he fought not to lose focus despite his own orgasm.
That was all it took for Rain to come crashing over the cliff after him. He didnāt think he had ever come so hard, feeling like Dew was milking his brains out through his cock. His vision went white at the edges, tunnel vision focussing on no one but Dew. Rain was glad he was lying down as he didnāt think his muscles would hold him up otherwise.
Of all the sounds that filtered through the rushing in his ears, Rain had least expected to hear a delighted peal of laughter from Dew. The ghoul wiped his hands on Rainās pyjamas before collapsing onto his chest, narrowly avoiding Rainās mess. The only muscles Rain could get to work brought his arms to wrap around him while Dewās tail forced its way between Dewās thigh and Rainās own tail, braiding the two together until Rainās also got the memo.
āWhy havenāt we been doing this for months?ā Dew gasped, breathless.
āYou tell me!ā Rain managed, his own breath coming back to him faster but his heartbeat still refusing to settle.
āYouāre so perfect.ā He continued. āI cant believe youāre mine.ā
āCompletely yours.ā Dew agreed fervently. āUntil the Pit freezes over.ā
From the way Dew was suddenly curling up on his chest, voice growing sleepy, it was clear he was about to crash. It was the middle of the night after all: the nap had ruined their sense of time.
Rain rolled them both to the edge of the bed and then to their feet before Dew could actually fall asleep though. His suddenly exhausted brain still knew that they shouldnāt get too comfy while they needed to clean up. Rain sent Dew in the direction of the bathroom with a chaste kiss and a clean pair of boxers while he wriggled out of his own, wiping himself roughly with them before throwing them straight into the laundry and slipping into a fresh pair too. It didnāt escape his attention that much like how the marks on his lower abdomen were still lit up from his own release, the patch of thigh where Dew had been grinding was also glowing faintly.
Before that thought could make him go truly insane, Rain distracted himself by arranging the nest while he waited for Dew. He was so tired he could hardly appreciate the sight of Dew in his clothes when he emerged, face still flushed and the too-big underwear barely hanging onto his narrow hips. Rain had forever to admire that though.
The fire ghoul pulled him back into bed with another kiss and a hand slotting into his with such perfect ease it was as though they were designed to fit together. It was a unspoken decision that Dew stayed the night.
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Dew had never really liked anyone touching his marks before, not even Aether. It had come as a surprise to him, therefore, just how much he loved Rain touching them. It was something only the water ghoul could do. Dew began to wonder if maybe it had never felt right before not because of his complicated feelings around them but because they werenāt just a piece of him, but of Rain too. It felt right when Rain touched them, like a missing piece slotting home.
His gentle fingers stroking along Dewās arm had been electric, the feeling so perfectly new and exciting he could hardly wrap his head around the sensations his nerves were reporting back on. Yet it also felt as natural as if Rain were following paths carves centuries prior, his finger settling into well-worn and familiar grooves.
Even greater than the physical sensations though was the way the reverence with which Rain acted about them made him feel. He treated them so tenderly and yet with the lazy familiarity of having seen them every day of his life, quite literally knowing them like the back of his hand. The way he talked about them with Dew granted the fire ghoul an almost powerful feeling in the equality with which he treated the marks both on his body and on Dewās, acting like Dewās arms were an extension of his own body.
Of course what had really made Dew aware of his own power had been making Rain fall apart beneath him. Everything about Rain losing himself to his pleasure at Dewās hands had been simply beautiful, there was no other word for it. Every pained expression of ecstasy, every tiny sound, each jerk of his hips and agonising moment of pleasure all brought about by Dew. He couldnāt believe he was so lucky that he got to be the catalyst for every one.
His water ghoul truly was an exquisite miracle, in every way. Dew had seen his body before, but never had he felt like he was allowed to truly look at him until now, let alone with the intention of following his gaze with his reverent touch. He looked like the figures artists made statues out of, muses so beautiful that immortalising them in stone seemed a wholly inadequate response.
Even that paled in comparison to the beauty within him though. Every word, every look, every action; they all served to make it abundantly clear just how special a ghoul Rain was, how much compassion and adoration lived within his heart. A reluctant part of Dewās brain, hurt by a lifetime of misunderstanding, thought it impossible that he could truly deserve Rain and yet he strove to convince Dew of it with every breath.
The trust Rain put in him, the complete and total handing over of control, all of it was intoxicating. Dew didnāt think he would ever get enough of it.
He hadnāt planned for things to pan out how they did when he had woken after his nap to find Rain half dozing beside him. he had thought they would just kiss for a while, their new favourite activity, and then maybe fall back asleep in one anotherās arms. Yet kisses had turned to exploratory touches and before Dew knew it he had Rainās clothed cock weighing heavy in his hand and absolutely no desire to let go.
Even his dick was beautiful, Dew thought, aware that he might be going slightly mad with his adoration of the water ghoul. His smooth head had been flushed such a rich shade of purple it had made his mouth water just looking at it, made it do so now at the memory. He wanted to taste, to seal his lips around it and feel the softness of its skin against them as he sunk down until he felt him at the back of his throat and could kiss his lips to the scales around its base.
Rainās pyjamas had been in the way, blocking him from truly taking in the patch of iridescent, rainbow flecks that speckled his skin in place of hair. He was sure they must be as beautiful as the scales dotting the rest of him, but he hadnāt wanted to waste time on removing his shorts, not when it would have taken up precious seconds where he could have been stroking him instead. Next time he was just going to shred them, Dew decided.
The same went for his own boxers, Dew settling for shoving a hand down them in lieu of having to cease his grinding on Rainās sculpted thigh for even a second. No more waiting, he decided. He wanted everything, and anything that stood in his way was merely collateral damage.
Rainās body might run quite a bit colder than Dewās, but he knew now that his cock was definitely not cold in his hand. It had pulsed hot under his fingers, eager and leaking.
Dew had come so quickly, grinding on Rain with his hand down his pants as he stroked over Rain, the feeling of bringing the water ghoul to the edge with him surely not helping his own stamina. There was just something about Rain that made everything feel so much more intense. Everywhere he touched him was like unlocking a new place to feel pleasure, his whole body an unending erogenous zone.
He wanted so badly to feel Rainās touch too. Dew knew he hadnāt given him a chance to before as he had too much fun enjoying the power trip of reducing him to a quivering mess, melting his brain out through his ears. Next time Dew would show more patience, he promised himself. He would give Rain his own chance to explore his body, would let himself enjoy the water ghoulās undoubtedly worshipful touch without getting greedy.
Dew fell asleep re-running the last hour through his head, Rain already snoring softly in his arms. He couldnāt think of anywhere he would rather be.
you know what? I'm getting in early. Pretty please can we see a Bell sidequest for the field trip? š¤
Oh but of COURSE we can, beloved!! (also, my sincere apologies, I'm not sure if you're already asleep--if you are, something sweet to start your day <3)
Anyways -- field trip day, Bell's point of view!
š„ø
Sidequest: Field Trip
Ā· Ā· Ā· ā š„ø Ā· š¹ Ā· š„ø ā Ā· Ā· Ā·
There was a seating logic.
Bell had worked it out shortly after picking up the shuttle, systematically, before the relevant parties got a chance to complicate anything.
Mister Delmere in the front, so they could go over the tour layout. Swiss and Mountain behind them, leg room, for the big ghouls. Aurora, Mist, and Phantom, in the back; plenty of room for the smallest of the bunch. Leaving Rain, Cirrus, and Cumulus to occupy the middle.
It was a sound logic. Everyone would have the appropriate amount of space, Mist could keep an eye on the brewing chaos storm known as Phantom, and all would be well.
Simple, really.
Phantom announced shotgun before they even left the lounge.
So: Phantom in the front seat, then. The rest of the logic reorganizes around its single point of deviation. Dew, last in, takes the only remaining space in row two. Bell notices this with the professional detachment of someone who has been paid, for a very long time, not to react to the things he notices.
He pulls from the curb at exactly the speed limit.
Phantom has the aux.
The first song is in a language Bell doesn't speak, with a bass line that makes the door panel vibrate. Phantom is mouthing the words at Bell like maybe that will get their meaning across. Bell adjusts the rearview mirror.
"Phantom."
"What."
"Volume."
"This is on volume five, Bell."
"Volume four."
"Volume four is for cowards."
"Volume four, Phantom."
Phantom brings it to four with a sigh that implies genuine personal sacrifice. Bell notes this and says nothing, because that would constitute engagement, and engagement is the thing Phantom has been trying to produce since they first laid eyes on him, appearing with those shots that they took so easily, their throat bobbing ā
He moves his eyes back to the road.
Swiss says, quietly, from the far back: "Phantom. If you play that song you played in the dressing room last Saturday I will walk to Helion."
"It's not on this playlist."
"It better not be."
"ā¦I'll skip it."
"Mhm."
Bell's mouth doesn't move.
The van makes a gentle left. Bell has his eyes on the road and is watching traffic. From row two there is a sound. Small. Barely there. The kind of sound a ghoul makes when ambushed by their own nervous system. Bell is making no record of this.
He adjusts the rearview mirror again.
In row two, Mister Delmere is experiencing what Bell has categorized, conservatively, as an ongoingā¦ situation. It has the quality of something that intends to become a scheduling problem and is simply waiting on the relevant parties to cooperate with it.
Bell has been managing Dew's situations long enough to recognize the posture: the careful stillness, the folio on the lap, the scrupulously neutral expression of a ghoul who is having no reactions.
Rain isn't doing anything. This is the consistent feature of the situation. He doesn't have to try, since all the trying is on the other end. Bell watches Mister Delmere sit at attention and feels the long-suffering fondness of a ghoul who has watched his boss systematically avoid and deny every good thing to fall into his lap, for the simple fact that he thinks he doesn't deserve it.
Well.
Bell tilts his head. Less lap, more leg pressed to leg. Interesting.
"You drive like a demon, Bell," Phantom says, recovering.
"I drive at the speed limit."
"You are a latent menace, Bell."
The corner of Bell's mouth moves. The very corner ā a twitch, involuntary, the kind of thing that years of professional composure should have eliminated and apparently has not ā
"Cowbell Bell Ghoul," Phantom says, delighted. "Was that a smile?"
"That is not my name."
"But that was a smile."
"It was not."
Bell keeps his eyes forward and his expression neutral, Phantom's quick movements small flashes in his peripherals.
Laughter rolls through the shuttle, Phantom leaning closer now, voice low enough that no one else can hear. Bell can smell their ozone, the clean cut of mint.
"That was absolutely a smile and I want it acknowledged ā"
"Helion's on the next block," Bell says, after a beat. "Coming up on the right."
He signals. He checks his mirrors. He does all of this with perfect composure and does not examine the fact that his composure has a crack in it that is Phantom-shaped and has been there for longer than he is prepared to acknowledge.
"Helion."
Bell puts the van in park. The doors open. Cold air comes in, the van empties ā Phantom first, everyone filing out, Cumulus and Cirrus already talking, Aurora in the middle of both conversations. Bell stays at the wheel a moment, as he always does. Long enough to confirm the hazards. Long enough to check the mirrors one final time.
He sees Rain, holding the door into Helion. The look back over his shoulder at Dew.
Dew on the sidewalk with his folio, looking like a ghoul who has forgotten what hands are for.
Bell gets out.
"Mister Delmere."
"Bell."
"After you."
š„ø
The tour takes exactly as long as planned.
Bell spends most of that time in the margins. This is his preferred position on excursions. Present, available, unobtrusive. He has a clipboard with the feedback forms and a mental accounting of everyone's position at all times, which is useful when what he is observing is Mister Delmere conducting a soft-open for a group of ghouls who cannot, collectively, maintain a straight line through a corridor.
They are not bad guests. They are simply a lot of them.
Phantom is a lot of them by themself.
Bell tracks Phantom through the building the way he tracks all variables. It's not fixation, moreā¦ asset management.
The ground floor is a loss ā Phantom finds the moss wall immediately and Bell isn't close enough to hear the exchange but can reconstruct it from context: Dew's shoulders going incrementally rigid, Phantom's hands going up in a gesture that is technically compliance. The second floor, however, does something to Phantom that Bell doesn't have a ready category for.
The light changes, the sound falls differently, and something about it stops Phantom mid-step at the landing in a way that Bell would, in a different register, call struck. They stand there for a moment, not performing anything, just standing with their face doing something private in the direction of the float tank corridor.
Bell finds something on his clipboard that requires attention.
He gives them the moment.
He gives them, in fact, several moments ā long enough that by the time he looks up, the group has relocated and Phantom is currently doing something Bell would categorize as a professional threat assessment of Omega, who has the particular misfortune of being both objectively attractive and currently within Phantom's sightline.
Bell looks at this for exactly as long as is necessary.
He coughs.
Then he catches Phantom's eye and gives them an expression that says absolutely not without moving a single facial muscle.
Phantom's eyebrow goes up a quarter inch, the specific Phantom expression that means really ā and holds there for a beat.
Bell holds their gaze. His clipboard remains level. His expression remains neutral.
Phantom looks back at him for one more moment.
Then they look away from Omega entirely.
Bell returns to his clipboard. He makes a note about the recovery suite lighting that does not need to be made. He's aware, in a peripheral and entirely non-urgent way, that his ears have gone warm ā copper, if anyone were positioned to notice. Phantom is no longer looking at Omega and Bell is not examining why that is the outcome he wanted.
He has several reasons it was the appropriate professional call.
He is, if he is being precise about it, still adding to the list.
š„ø
The comment cards are Bell's idea. They are a practical solution to a practical problem ā Helion's feedback architecture exists for clinical purposes, and the soft-open represents an early informal data set. They are also, and Bell will own this privately, a way to move a group of performing artists toward a vehicle by framing departure as a transaction.
Everyone fills a card out. That's the price of being driven home.
It works, which Bell considers a success.
He collects them by the front entrance as the group assembles ā clipboard in hand, pens provided. Aurora fills all four prompts in handwriting that includes small flowers on the capital letters, and thanks Bell directly when she hands it over. He acknowledges this with a nod and a mental note that she is, unambiguously, a sweetheart of a ghoul.
Mountain's is two words. Good towels. Bell makes a note. Mountain is a ghoul who knows what matters.
Swiss's runs longer: Tell whoever did the salt corridor I'm willing to fight them for the recipe. I have never breathed like that in my life. Mountain says the towels were good. He's right. Bell marks this for the facilities team.
Mist's: Tell Pebble their hands are a gift to the industry. Bell underlines it. He will be telling Dew, who will certainly inform Pebble.
Rain takes the card and pen and writes without hesitating, the behavior of a ghoul who arrived knowing what he wanted to say. He hands it back face-down. Bell turns it over.
Two words. Small, precise handwriting.
Nice hands.
Bell's expression doesn't change. He puts this where he puts everything belonging to Mister Delmere's ongoing situation: the back of his mind, labeled, somewhere he will not be tripping over it in the dark.
He turns to Phantom.
Phantom is still writing.
They've been writing, Bell realizes, for slightly longer than anyone else, bent over the card with focused, deliberate attention, which is not an energy Bell typically associates with Phantom.
He waits. He is, among many other things, very patient.
Phantom finishes and looks up.
They hold the card out directly, fingers on one end, the other end aimed at Bell. Bell takes it because there is nothing else to do, and he reads it because the alternative is standing there holding an unread card, which is not something Bell does.
What we did well: The driver. Both hands on the wheel the entire time. Very professional.
What we could do better: Volume four.
Anything else: [a string of digits] ā Ph.
Optional contact information: see above. keep up.
Bell is aware that his ears have gone warm again.
He doesn't look up immediately. This is not because he needs more time with the card ā he has read it, in full, twice now. But because there's information on his face he's not prepared to share with anyone yet, and Phantom is still there, watching him the way they watch things they find interesting, directly and without any apparent self-consciousness.
Bell finally looks up.
Phantom winks.
"I'm sitting shotgun again," they announce.
Not a question.
Bell says nothing. He watches Phantom turn and walk toward Helion's front door with the easy confidence of a ghoul who has just made a move and knows exactly where it landed, and then he looks back down at the card.
He opens his inner jacket pocket and places the card inside.
He finds Mister Delmere near the lobby in quiet conversation with one of the Helion staff, folio open, doing what he does best, which is to say: not stopping. He holds out the stack when Dew glances up.
"Overwhelming praise, sir," Bell says, making sure Rain's card is on the bottom of the pile.
Dew takes the stack. "Thank you, Bell."
Bell has found, over a long professional history, that Mister Delmere occasionally benefits from a reminder of what he's built. He has also found that Mister Delmere is considerably more receptive to such reminders when they arrive sideways.
"And how was Delta's new protocol?"
He watches Dew's left eyelid tremor and feels, faintly, a spark of pride.
"Effective."
"Mm." Bell closes his tablet. "I'm heading out to do drop-offs."
"See you tomorrow, Bell."
He leaves before Dew can say anything further, which is, Bell has found, the optimal exit. He does not look back at Mister Delmere standing alone in the lobby of the thing he built.
š„ø
Phantom is already in the front seat when Bell reaches the van.
Of course they are.
Bell gets in and adjusts his mirrors and does not remark on the fact that they have resumed their exact positions as though the intervening excursion was a commercial break.
Phantom has the aux plugged into their phone.
Bell says nothing about the volume.
Phantom turns it to four anyway as he pulls away from the curb.
After a short while Aurora tips sideways against Cirrus's shoulder. Swiss and Mountain are arranged in the back row with the stillness of two ghouls who have reached maximum relaxation. Cumulus, Rain and Mist all look about thirty seconds from sleep, which the city potholes do their duty to prevent.
Phantom changes the song. Something in a language Bell doesn't speak, which is, at this point, a theme.
"What's this one about," Bell says.
Phantom turns to look at him. Slowly.
"Bell," they say, cautiously.
"It's a reasonable question."
"It's aā¦ love song," Phantom says, in the tone of someone who is not, technically, lying.
Bell drives. The bass does something through the door panels.
"Mm," he says.
Phantom faces front again, and Bell can hear the smile in it without looking.
The route home is longer than the route out. Individual drop-offs ā Bell has everyone's addresses already mapped in his tablet in the most efficient order, because of course he does ā and the van empties by degrees. Mist first, a quiet thank you at her door. Then Swiss and Mountain, Mountain unfolding from the back row while Swiss's hand trails down his arm as he follows. Aurora, Cirrus, and Cumulus in a cluster, Cirrus and Cumulus already drifting toward each other on the walk to the door, Cumulus saying something that makes Cirrus tip her head and laugh. Rain last of the group, lifting two fingers in a brief half-wave from the sidewalk before turning down the block.
Then it's just Phantom in the front seat, a few miles left, and the music still at four.
"You're quieter," Phantom says.
"I'm always quiet."
"You're quieter than your quiet." A beat. "The card okay?"
Bell doesn't look at them.
"The cards were a useful data collection mechanism," he says. "I expect Mister Delmere will find them informative."
They settle back in the seat, feet off the dash for once, quiet in a way that does not feel like running out of things to say.
"I meant mine," Phantom says.
Bell takes the turn. Regulation speed. Both hands on the wheel.
"It was noted," he says.
A small sound from Phantom. Bell is fairly certain it's a smile. He doesn't look. He doesn't need to. He has sufficient data.
"This is you," Bell says, pulling to the curb.
Phantom collects their things unhurriedly, in the specific way of someone who has nowhere else to be and is choosing not to be there yet. They pause with their hand on the door.
"The rental return is three blocks away," Bell says.
Phantom waits.
"Next time I'll just pick you up."
A beat.
Bell is aware, approximately one second after saying this, of precisely what he has said.
Phantom turns back. Their mouth has done something just shy of terrible.
"Next time, huh?" they say.
"Forā¦ the shuttle," Bell says.
"Right," Phantom says, in the tone of someone who is not, by any measure, agreeing with him.
They get out. Bell watches the door close. Watches Phantom reach the steps of their building and glance back once, just once, and then he puts the van in drive.
He returns the shuttle, signs the paperwork, and gets in his car. Sits for a moment with his hands in his lap before he drives home at exactly the speed limit.
He decides, as the engine goes quiet in the garage and the building settles around him, that he will not be looking at it tonight.
His hand finds his jacket pocket without being asked. He will not take the card out.
This is, he notes, probably not true.
Ā· Ā· Ā· ā š„ø Ā· š¹ Ā· š„ø ā Ā· Ā· Ā·
The teal, Phantom has decided, is better for the shoulders, but the gold does something to their eyes, and both of these things are true simultaneously, which is the fundamental problem with having taste.
"You're not helping," they tell Rain.
Rain's face, small in the corner of the phone screen, tilts slightly. "I said the gold."
"You said it like someone who wants to stop talking about it."
"I do want to stop talking about it."
"That's not help, that's surrender." Phantom spins once ā the gold catches the light, which is a point in its favor ā then back the other way to check the difference. Rain watches.
This is the arrangement: Phantom performs, Rain observes, and both of them get something out of it that neither would name on a quiet Monday night.
Their phone buzzes.
Phantom doesn't look immediately, could be anything, usually is anything, the group chat runs at a volume that would concern a less seasoned person. But the notification is from an unknown number, and Phantom's heart skips.
They pick up the phone.
This is Bell. Thank you for the feedback.
Phantom's face, caught before they can do anything useful with it, goes quiet. The softness around their eyes, their chin tipping down just slightly, like something landing rather than being taken. It's quick. It's real.
Rain doesn't miss it. Rain never misses it.
"Phantom," he says.
"It's Bell." Their voice comes out genuine, which was not the plan, and then they laugh, good-natured, a little helpless, full of something warm.
They pick the phone up from the dresser and hold it too close to their face. "'Thank you for the feedback,' Rain. He ā" Another laugh. "That is so ā"
"Yeah," Rain says.
"He texted."
"I see that."
Phantom looks back at their own face in the mirror. The teal, the gold, none of it especially load-bearing anymore. They didn't know until just now how much they were waiting.
"Should I send him my tits in this? Maybe he'll have more of an opinion than you."
"Lucifer's left nut, Phantom."
They both laugh, and Phantom goes quiet again.
"...what do I actually say to him."
Rain looks at them for a moment through the screen. At Phantom's face in the mirror, unguarded, the gold top still catching the light.
what if what if Rain was a totally innocent virgin before, and Dew was the one who turn him into a biggest slut today?
The dynamic was like:
Rain's first times: It hurts, it hurts so bad. Dew please pull it out, I can't take this anymore.
Rain's 69th times: More, more. Give me more. Another round please.
Dew: Oh fuck, I can't do this anymore.
Note: You might find it as same as the one that media-notce recieved, cause I share my brainrot everywhereeeeee.
This is wild - and ofc you should share brainrot this good with everyone!! I'm sure @media-nocte won't mind reading more RainDrop content!
TL/DR: Rain tried it (didn't like it) until he did... and now he's a demanding little shit who needs it like NOW from Dew.
Here we go!
Insatiable
It doesnāt take long for the other ghouls to realize that Rain is, well, heās innocent. A total freshie topside, a gentle soul who hasnāt been with anyone yet.Ā
When they figure this out, itās hard for anyone not to drool over the shy, pretty ghoul. Everyone loves Rain. His graceful nature and soft spoken demeanor winning everyone over and making him a gentle treasure that they will protect to the death.Ā
Each lusts in their own way. Wondering who he will choose to be his first. Vying for his attention. For the honor.Ā
Mountain stares. Offering a soft hand and long walks in the garden, or reading to the ghoul curled in his lap. Petting his hair and keeping him warm in his nest.Ā
The girls fawn and coo over him, but keep their distance until he approaches, respecting his decision and afraid that their trio dynamic might frighten him too much up front.Ā
Swiss stalks his prey from a distance, swirling and waiting for him to make a mistake, or to decide to walk on the wild side. He waits too long.Ā
Of course itās Dewdrop who earns the honor of being with Rain. Swiss and Mountain both grumble low and irritated when they realize whatās happening.Ā The girls knew before it happened. They saw it coming before Dew did.Ā
Dew had a way with the quiet ghoul. For all his fire and bluster, his inner water ghoul nature still held firm and water seeks water, even deep under the surface. Where he was brash and hot, he could also be soft and won Rain over with hushed whispers and gentle touches, warm hands that sparked something in Rainās soul until he couldnāt not touch Dewdrop.Ā
He was scared. When Dew laced his fingers through Rainās and led him down the hall to his room after a day of smoldering looks, subtle caresses, murmured words, Rain was trembling and pliant, nervous but ready to give himself to Dewdrop.Ā
He leads Rain to his nest, loaded with surprisingly soft pillows and blankets and furs, holding his hands and kissing the knuckles on each hand before raising his gaze to meet Rainās, an intensity there that took Rainās breath away, as he inhales shakily.Ā
He steps back to help him undress, pulling off his own shirt, before reaching for Rainās, groaning as Rain removes his pants, and Dew takes in the expanse of creamy skin, the cut lines of his hips, the tight muscles across his abdomen. His cock is perfect, Dew thinks. Girthy enough he imagines his sore jaw later, long enough itāll hit the back of his throat when he swallows around it.Ā
When Dew strips his own pants off, Rain stares, surprised that Dew is bigger than he expected, wondering how this is going to feel, if it is going to hurt, and how itās going to fit.Ā
Dew stretches up to kiss Rain, pulling him down by the back of his neck, tongue slipping between his lips as Rain parts for him. Dew slowly wraps an arm around Rainās back as he pushes him backward into the nest, until they are lowered down to the mattress, and Rain is nestled in a sea of soft bedding, Dew trembling between his legs as he grinds their cocks together.Ā
He needs Rainās first time to be something special, wants to worship the water ghoul the way he deserves, so Dew pulls out all his tricks.Ā
When Rain is ready, and Dew has worked him over with his fingers and tongue, to the point that Rain is sweaty and shaking and begging Dew to do something, anything more.Ā
Dew slicks himself up and presses into the tight ring of muscle, pushing Rainās legs up and back, needing to see his face, to know heās ok, to tell him he loves him as he enters him.Ā
Rain gasps as Dew enters his body, just the tip, and Rainās head is thrown back, eyes rolled into his head, as he arches, and Dew slips in a little more.Ā
āRain, are you ok? Is this ok? Does it hurt?ā
Rainās eyes return to focus as he pants, trying to breathe through the pressure and pain, deciding if the pleasure was worth the pain.Ā
āIt hurts, Dew, so much. I canāt do this. Please pull it out.ā he blurts out in a rush, tears running down his face and Dew freezes, unable to hurt his Rain this way. Unable to move for fear of hurting Rain more, he panics slightly, promising Rain that it gets better and he just needs to relax and let the initial pain subside, but then forces himself to stop, pulling out, unable to stomach the idea of hurting Rain.
Mortified, Rain covers his face, as Dew rushes to comfort him, to wrap around him, to hold him and to comfort him, to promise heād never hurt him again. Rain shudders and sobs, sure that Dew will never touch him again.Ā
--
Itās another week before he wants to try again. He nearly has to pull Dew into bed this time, the smaller ghoul protesting as Rain insists heās ready.Ā
Once again, Rain breaks down when Dew is nearly fully sheathed inside, and once again, Dew loses it when he tries to comfort Rain.Ā
Dewās never been so sexually frustrated as he is right now, but he canāt hurt Rain and will wait forever if thatās what it takes, or never, if thatās what Rain wants.Ā
The other ghouls think that theyāve been having wild sex this whole time, but neither ghoul will talk about it. The gossip is better than the reality.
When it finally happens, itās like all of Rainās senses are awakened, and a switch flips as he realizes that heās never felt this good and demands that Dew give him what he wants every chance he gets. He's grabbed Dew and they've christened:
Broom closets.
The practice room.
The tour bus bunk, table and couch. (Swiss watched).Ā
The common room floor, and the kitchen island.Ā
The altar in the chapel under a full moon.Ā
The bathtub, shower and counter next to the sink.Ā
They definitely did not do it on Copiaās desk.Ā
The lake.Ā
The greenhouse, on the potting bench, which Mountain is still mad about. (He didnāt even get an invite.)
The field behind the abbey. (Sister put them on notice to stay away from the windows next time.)
The dressing room, at every venue.Ā
A hotel balcony, or three.Ā
The hotel swimming pool, and a hot tub.
---
Dew isnāt a young ghoul, but Rain is making up for lost time and is keeping Dew on his toes. While heās in his prime, heās exhausted, and Rain is insatiable.Ā
Everyone has had an eyeful at this point, Rain well past his innocent phase, and openly tempting Dew to come take what is his.Ā
Dew hears Rain call his name down the hall, and exhales loudā¦ readying himself for another long night, heading towards the sound of Rainās voice and wondering when it would be appropriate to call in reinforcements.Ā
As if his ask was answered, Mountainās door opens as he walks down the hall, and the earth ghoul smirks at him, having heard Rainās call too.
āAgain?ā he chuckles, looking at the tired ghoul with a sparkle in his green eyesĀ
āAgain.ā Dew nods.
āCan we help?ā Mountain asks, in a low purr, pushing the door wider so Dew can see Swiss moving to wrap himself around Mountain from behind, eyes warm.Ā
āSatanas, yesā¦ā Dew exhales, running claws through his hair, āI think Iāve created a monster.ā
The laughter that fills the hall is quickly replaced by moans and whines and chirps and trills as Rain experiences the full attention of his pack mates and has his world rocked completely.Ā
---
Dew sits back and watches, taking a breather, before Rain grabs him and pulls him back in, wanting, demanding his mate.Ā
