A space primarily for Kin/Therian related posts and writing, art too maybe. As this page is multi-Kin, content and the like will be very varied. Most personal content will be musings and feelings on my Kins, and the connections that lie there in; any Kins w/ sources r prone to some canon divergence.
Summary: They spend the day off in the most relaxing way possible, with each other
Golden rays of early morning light shine softly through the sheer curtains, casting beams of warmth onto the bed. Dew lies in the middle of the mess, crumbled sheets and thrown pillows. His hair fans all around him, glowing like a molten halo with the way it catches the sun. His skin is still flushed, sweaty. His chest still heaves with each deep breath. His eyes remain closed, lids as heavy as the rest of him. A little grin remains on his face even as his spend cools and goes tacky in his sparse happy trail and up his stomach.
He can hear the sound of running water and movement from the bathroom, but it is distant. Far away like it is coming from another plane of existence rather than just a few steps away. The warm, hazy bubble from waking up on a day off with his mate is yet to pop. He basks in it, the pleasant ache in his muscles and between his legs, the scent of Aether all around, the sting from the fresh marks that litter his neck and shoulders. He lets all his tension melt away so he can float here forever. Here where he is safe, where he knows letting go means falling into gentle hands.
"Bath is ready, love." Aether's head pops out of the bathroom.
"Mhm," Dew hums, still not opening his eyes.
He chuckles, "come on, before it goes cold."
"'M made of fire."
"Well, does my gorgeous piece of hot coal want me to carry him?"
Dew's grins grows a fraction of an inch. His tail flicks exactly once. He does not protest, but he does not outright ask either.
"Ah damn. And here I thought you came hard enough to say please." Aether's steps are heavy as he makes his way over to the bed.
"You'll just have to try again."
Dew's tail twitches with each slap of bare feet against the floor. His fangs start to poke out from his lips. He can feel it when Aether is standing over him, can feel the subtle fizz of his quintessence, like the lingering static from a TV that has been turned off.
Nobody makes a move. Dew's eyes remain closed. Aether does not touch him.
The anticipation tingles in the air, like waiting for the thunder after the lightning.
Aether pounces.
He scoops Dew up bridal style, a growl rumbling in his chest. He presses a big, sloppy kiss to Dew's cheek. He halfheartedly slaps at Aether's chest, but he makes a noise through his nose that might be considered laughing.
Finally, his eyes open, glowing like dying embers. "I was comfortable."
"And dirty."
"But you like it when I'm dirty."
"This is true," Aether carries him toward the bathroom, "but I also like making sure my droplet is well taken care of."
"Sap."
"You chose this."
Yeah. Yeah, he did.
Dew lets Aether set him down on the edge of the tub. He knows what he wants him to do. He wants him to test the water, make sure it is hot enough for him. Dew knows it will be. Aether always sets up perfectly when they have the chance to do this; his favorite soaps and salts in the bath, his nice shampoo and conditioner just within arms reach, fresh, fluffy towels ready to cover them before the air can even think to chase away the heat, lights turned low with only Aether's candles burning. The good ones. The ones that smell like dragons blood and something musky.
He dips his fingertips in the water, and just as he thought. Just shy of boiling. Absolutely perfect. He turns, tossing his legs over the side so he can slide in. Aether comes up behind him, a hand to his shoulder and a kiss between the horns.
"Let me," he murmurs against his hair.
Dew finds his hand and squeezes. He can feel Aether smile.
Aether steps into the tub, water sloshing at the sudden disturbance. His eyebrows only tick a little as the heat engulfs his legs. Years of doing this has lead to a tolerance to the burn. He settles with his back against the cool linoleum, soapy bubbles already clinging to his chest hair. He gives Dew a lopsided smile, one fang glinting in the low light, and opens his arms for him.
He sinks into the water, sinks back against Aether, with a sigh on his lips. The heat seeps all the way down to his bones, dulling the ache and forcing him deeper into relaxation. Dew goes completely limp, every single muscle loosening, resting all his weight on Aether. He knows he can handle it, knows this is exactly why he does this whenever the scheduling gods allow. He likes having him pressed so close, likes seeing the pinch between his brow melt into nothing.
Dew will not complain. A good morning fuck and warm bath is nothing to snap at. But he would remiss if said he does not enjoy these slow, syrupy moments completely engulfed by everything Aether. Here he does not need performance, he does not need to maintain their perfectly crafted dynamic of botherer and annoyed. There are no expectations, no roles to fill. It just each other, loving and being loved in a way still untouched by outside eyes.
It is sacred. It is two souls already entwined pulling the tangles tighter. It is a renewed promise and a reminder as to why they share scarred shoulders.
Because I love you. Because I want you. Because being with you, like this, is the only time I can breathe.
Or something like that.
Whatever it is, Dew will never admit it outloud. Not for lack of want, but he just. Cannot. So, he tucks his head under Aether's chin, resting an ear over his heart. He presses a featherlight kiss over the symbol that keeps him tethered to this world, branded there by magick more ancient than Hell itself.
