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Blitz’s kiss was wet and warm as he clung to the feathers at the back of Stolas’ head.
Stolas sighed into it, suckling tenderly on Blitz’s tongue and drawing a quiet moan from the man he loved. He stroked a thick horn to angle Blitz’s head back and deepen the kiss, and felt a familiar hardness dig into his stomach when Blitz pushed needily up against him.
A thrill ruffled his feathers, and Stolas smiled into the kiss. He pressed his hardened abdomen down, matching the slight bucking of Blitz’s hips, and hummed in approval when Blitz’s cock twitched hotly against his skin.
Their tongues didn’t unwind as Blitz’s pants turned gradually to muffled moans.
A claw dug into Stolas’ back, dragging down his skin and the downy feathers there. Spurred on, Stolas snuck a hand between their bodies and tugged Blitz’s pajama bottoms down. He traced Blitz’s heavy length with his fingers, drawing a higher, needy whine from the imp.
Blitz pushed up into Stolas’ weight, arching his back into the unhurried touch. Shaky fingers clawed at Stolas’ sides, raising skin; Stolas rewarded him with a pleased hoot that Blitz swallowed and gasped around.
“Mh—mhh…” Blitz tried to vocalize, no doubt wanting to ask for more, but Stolas slotted their mouths together and kept a steady, unhurried pace.
There was no rush, now, after all. No bright full moon judging silently from the celestial sphere; no transaction, no deal. Just them—quiet, and wanton, and here. Warm lips and and feathers and skin.
He stroked Blitz’s quivering tip and felt it leak against his fingers. Distracted by the familiar texture of Blitz’s arousal, he let his drool trickle down into Blitz’s mouth, and Blitz kissed up into it, using his tongue to taste and collect Stolas’ mess. His muscled legs wrapped around Stolas’ waist, and he clenched his thighs to drive his cock up into the hollow nest underneath Stolas’ breastbone.
It was Stolas’ turn to moan hotly into Blitz’s mouth, and not just from the way Blitz was fucking himself against the pit of his stomach. Blitz’s tail spade had found its way between his thighs, and teased them playfully open, stroking the inside just above Stolas’ knees where Blitz knew he was particularly sensitive.
Stolas whimpered, shivering with pleasure. Lords, he’d missed this so much.
No, that wasn’t entirely true. He’d yearned for this—for a touch between them that felt real, that wasn’t rooted in fantasy, in play-pretend, in a mountain of unspoken doubt.
Thoughts of their troubling past had barely begun to form when Blitz dragged him back to the present with hands that dug into his flesh at his back and sides. Stolas sighed, feeling the tip of that spade trailing up his inner thighs, and sobbed lowly into the kiss when it flicked against his quivering heat.
With devastating ease, he surrended to his lover fully, spreading his legs open and moaning in tandem with Blitz as that tail spade found his cloaca and rubbed slowly against its ridged edge.
Just as he felt wetness leak onto the flat of Blitz’s spade, another dribble of pre-cum coated his own fingers and the downy feathers under his chest.
He considered sitting up to get Blitz’s cock inside him, but he rather wanted to keep drinking in Blitz’s moans. So, instead, Stolas shifted his weight without parting from their kiss and guided more of it to his knees so he could lift his hips. Then, rubbing himself back against that teasing tail, he slotted his hand properly between their bodies and wrapped his fist around the familiar, quivering weight of Blitz’s cock.
Blitz’s moan was beautifully debauched, and Stolas hummed around it as he pumped his fist experimentally, pausing after an upstroke to feel the way his stomach feathers dampened with Blitz’s dribbling slick.
He rubbed Blitz’s tip with his palm to coax more of that wetness out, and Blitz’s mouth slackened against his as he pumped his hips up and sought more of Stolas’ touch.
When Stolas stroked his full length again, Blitz’s legs clenched around his waist, the imp clinging to him until his back was barely touching the couch.
There was no warning as Blitz’s tail wriggled and breached the sensitive rim of Stolas’ hole.
Stolas parted from the kiss, moaned, and Blitz chuckled against his lips.
“You’re so wet for me, birdie.” Blitz’s voice was a rumble, hoarse from making out. He grabbed Stolas by the back of the head and guided their mouths together; not to kiss, but to feel Stolas’ hot breaths against his lips as he twitched his tail inside Stolas’ quivering heat.
Dreamily, Stolas smiled, a thumb to the underside of Blitz’s cock. “You’re one to talk, darling.”
Blitz smiled back, cheeky, before wriggling deeper inside him and kissing around Stolas’ breathy moan.
Stolas already knew he wasn’t going to last. Not with how new and thrilling this felt; not with how long he’d craved this kind of touch from Blitz.
It was okay, though. Blitz would hold him when he came undone, he knew that now. Just as he knew their time together wouldn’t be over once this moment was; that Blitz would still be by his side afterwards, filling the crushing gaps between each full moon with warmth and touch and love.
So Stolas moaned, and fucked himself on Blitz's muscular tail spade, and didn’t try to stop his pleasure from mounting—trickling—spilling as they got lost in another breathless kiss. He didn’t hold back from stroking Blitz to completion, either, pushing his chest down and cradling his cock in the gap under his ribcage as Blitz quivered and came.
They kissed for long minutes, afterwards: Stolas’ fingers curled loosely around Blitz’s twitching, slowly-softening dick, and Blitz’s tail tip nestled in the wet, pulsing ridges of Stolas’ hole.
Then came the slide of a warm tongue against the hardness of his beak; the smooth, hollow slide of a talon against a long keratine horn.
Each small touch felt accentuated, traveling down his limbs and spine with each shock of after-pleasure that made him drowsy and slow.
Outside the spacious windows of Blitz’s home, a red twilight toned down into a purplish dusk. Inside, comfort flowed back into pleasure as Blitz’s cock filled against his abdomen again and the wetness between Stolas’ legs twitched with interest anew.
Stolas didn’t stroke Blitz this time, instead pressing his hand against Blitz’s lower back and spurring him to drive up into his body.
Similarly, Blitz didn’t push inside him again, and opted for rubbing the outside of Stolas’ sensitive rim until he was a whining mess. The edges of his spade caught against the ridges of Stolas’ cloaca, and, hyper-sensitive as he was, Stolas cried out and came in seconds, too lost in pleasure to feel self-conscious about how ridiculously easy it was for Blitz to get him off.
Blitz made them dinner, afterwards, though not until their rumbling stomachs forced them to get up. Stolas wasn’t allowed near the stove even though his calculations proved he’d only been responsible for roughly forty-percent of the kitchen accidents over the last few months; but he set the table for two, lowering the lights and cutting a flower from his small balcony garden to place in a horseshoe mug in lieu of a proper vase.
He hummed as he worked, and caught a glimpse of a smile adorning Blitz’s face as he finished up with the food. Privately, Stolas smiled back, a sappy, delighted display that he toned down somewhat when Blitz brought their plates to the table and pulled back Stolas’ chair for him to sit.
When they brushed their teeth after dinner, Blitz perched himself on the edge of the sink and nuzzled his forehead against the mess of feathers that adorned Stolas’ chest. He held Stolas’ hand as they made back to the couch, and used that irresistible smile of his to convince Stolas to watch a movie he really liked that had a stallion for a protagonist.
Stolas agreed to it, well aware he’d spend most of the movie silently admiring the feeling of Blitz’s hand around his own.
Quite unexpectedly, though, the movie plot caught his attention. So much so that, when a low purr reached him from below, Stolas was surprised to find Blitz fast asleep against his side, with his scarred cheek smooshed against the short feathers of his upper arm.
Smiling, Stolas tugged at the blanket and draped it around them both.
Eventually, the credits rolled. Blitz didn’t stir, and it took Stolas a minute to get a hold of his drooping eyelids.
Carefully, Stolas lowered himself onto his back, taking care not to wake Blitz as he repositioned the imp to be curled up securely against his chest, legs tucked in the gap between Stolas’ waist and the backrest.
A passing car in the street below painted a stroke of yellow and white on the living room wall. It was the closest thing to a shooting star Stolas had witnessed in many months, and even though he knew it was silly, he couldn’t help but search his mind groggily for a wish.
Him, his scattered thoughts supplied, this.
Satisfied, Stolas closed his eyes and allowed his low-pitched hoots to match the rumbling beat of Blitz’s deep-seated purr.
