It’s later than either of them had intended to stay out, but staring up at the ruby heavens from their blanket, Bertie’s Halloweaster basket filled with an empty bottle of wine and the remnants of the snacks the bees had prepared them, it seemed right. Ienzo felt warm enough in the quiet between them now with his scarf, pressed close to the other man’s side. The chill across his cheeks didn’t bother him. He’d allowed himself to get a little buzzed on the wine – strawberry wine – and was fully intending to enjoy the effects for another half hour or so when Bertie began shifting.
Bertie had spread his wings out to lie down, and they’d proved a comfortable enough bed to rest on along with the arm he had wrapped under Ienzo. The wings had been twitching periodically throughout their stargazing, which Ienzo took to be an attempt to keep them from going numb. Now, Bertie was most certainly raising the one Ienzo was laying on.
“Sorry,” Ienzo said, just the tiniest bit disappointed this hadn’t lasted longer. He started to sit up, but Bertie’s grip on him tightened.
“No, no! I didn’t mean...” He trailed off.
The mage looked over at him in confusion. Bertie’s cheeks were flushed with the cold and – his Sense... sense told him – drink. “Bertie, did you want to get up?” It was really always better to be direct with Bertie. There was a slightly higher chance he might give a comprehensible, if still illogical, answer.
“No, I was trying to- Oh dash it!” Bertie chewed his lip for a moment, before coming to some apparent decision. “May I kiss you? I was just trying to get my wing up a bit in case anyone came traipsing along the road.”
“You may,” Ienzo allows with a small, amused smile, “but I’m fairly certain it’s past the time that most people would be out traipsing.” Before he could carry on with a discussion of the fact most of the trolls seemed to have fallen into a typical diurnal sleep pattern in contrast to their more natural nocturnal proclivities, Bertie touched the cold fingers of his free hand to Ienzo’s face. He tipped Ienzo’s chin up for a better position for the requested kiss.
It starts off as their kisses normally do; the kiss is chaste and brief. Instead of leaving it at that like Bertie usually did when he was the one initiating, though, he took a breath and went in for another, this time a firmer press of lips accompanied by further movement as he tried to roll himself to face Ienzo. It wasn’t working very well with the mage pinning one wing.
Ienzo sighed a little internally and broke off the kiss to sit up. He really hoped it wouldn’t ruin the moment, but this needed to be done. “If you’d like to pull your wings to one side?” Bertie scrambled to do so, lying on his side now. Ienzo joined him. The ground wasn’t nearly as comfortable as the other man’s wing had been, but it was still warm, and that was a plus.
Bertie didn’t wait to ask permission this time. As soon as Ienzo was down, he wrapped one arm around the mage’s waist and cupped his cheek with the other hand. The insistent press of lips was joined by a flick of tongue. Ienzo blinked a few times, more than a little shocked at the quick progression of this, but it wasn’t unpleasant. In fact, he’d be hard pressed to say he wasn’t enjoying it thoroughly. He parted his lips and that was when Bertie seemed to freeze for a moment, breaking off.
They’d never actually done this. “It-it’s all right?”
Ienzo gave him a Look, because really, when he opened his mouth to accept, that hardly seemed to indicate anything else. Bertie latched back onto him, tongue tentatively beginning to explore the mage’s mouth. Bertie tasted like the wine and food, and beneath that, tea and mint. Ienzo was suddenly very glad the other man had quit smoking so long ago or this might be a much less pleasurable experience.
Content to continue kissing in the dark on their blanket, Ienzo was again a little surprised to find Bertie stroking his side, fingers dancing at the hem of his vest at the downward edge. Then he wiggled under and started pulling at the button-down shirt beneath. Well, all right, then. The alcohol was certainly making Bertie bold, and him receptive.
Ienzo had been keeping his own hands relaxed, one resting on the back of Bertie’s neck, and the other on his shoulder. Now, though, the mage reached down, pushing Bertie’s hand away for a moment so that he could just tug his shirt free. That accomplished, he grasped the other man’s hand and moved it back to where it had been. Taking it as the invitation it was, Bertie’s fingers began to feel the smooth skin beneath. His soft fingers – pianist’s fingers, not the rough calloused feeling of a scientist – brush up along Ienzo’s waist, skin-to-skin now. It takes a great deal of restraint not to fidget, to stop Bertie before he reaches the binding. He has to remember that’s not there anymore.
What is there, is one of his nipples.
“Hah!” Ienzo pulls out of their kiss to gasp as the other man’s cold hand brushes across the sensitive spot.
He starts to pull back again, eyes wide. “Sorry! Sorry, did that hurt? Oh, God, sorry!”
Ienzo snags Bertie’s hand before he can pull it out from under his shirt entirely. “No! No, it feels very... I like it.”
They resumed once more, but this time, Bertie went for his neck instead of his lips as he moved his fingers gently back up, ghosting them across Ienzo’s stomach and chest along the way. The maddening attention was beginning to make an entirely different part of Ienzo stir with interest in the proceedings.
As if sensing this, it wasn’t half a moment later that Bertie broke off kissing long enough to roll himself and Ienzo over so that Ienzo was the one on his back and Bertie was above him. The larger man’s wings draped around them, hiding their upper halves from view, at least. Bertie used the hand that wasn’t up Ienzo’s shirt to prop himself above the mage. Their legs had gotten tangled somehow Ienzo found himself situated with one of Bertie’s thighs pressed up against the crotch of his trousers while one of Ienzo’s thighs was between Bertie’s legs. When the other man lowered himself and undulated – perhaps unconsciously as he continued to kiss Ienzo’s neck and jaw – it became very apparent that he was similarly aroused.
This seemed something like an important step to talk about, but with Bertie’s rare show of interest and not-entirely-incompetent managing of current affairs, it was a little hard for Ienzo to motivate himself to care. They could always talk afterward, after both their needs were sated. This was his first time like this in a body that felt like it should be, with a man he loved. It could wait.
Bertie’s nails dug into Ienzo’s side as the winged man began rocking his hips. Ienzo felt the movement stimulating his own arousal. It could really wait.
Feeling a little lax in the current proceedings, Ienzo firmed up his footing on the leg Bertie was rubbing against, and moved his hips in rhythm. His fingers found a place laced in Bertie’s hair. He tugged a bit to bring the other man’s mouth back to his own. He could hear Bertie’s muffled moans, but there was nothing to quiet Ienzo’s own. A mouth on his would suit both their purposes.
The kissing was more desperate now, and Bertie rocked faster. When Bertie’s fingers went back to circling and brushing Ienzo’s nipple, he was gone. Ienzo cried out, but Bertie’s lips dampened the sound. His whole body seized up, the intensity washing over him in a roiling wave of pleasure. The sensation was that of having touched a live wire, but one that did not burn or wound. It was another half a minute of rocking before Bertie reached his own peak. His smooth motions stuttered to a halt and he all but collapsed upon Ienzo. It was more weight than was comfortable, but Ienzo let him have a few moments to catch his breath and enjoy the white aftershocks of pleasure as he had.
“That was... unexpected,” Ienzo said, breathless, as he began to squirm a little. “Pleasantly so.” Taking the cue, Bertie pushed himself up and moved off to one side, still on his stomach. He left his wing to lie over Ienzo like a blanket.
Bertie let the silence stretch out for a long moment before he replied, “Oh... I think we might need new pants, though.”
Ienzo glanced down at his crotch. He couldn’t see any stain in the dark, but he could smell it. How unfortunate. He’s liked these pants, and the trousers for that matter. The thought is so absurd after what had just happened that Ienzo couldn’t help chuckling. Bertie joined him after a moment.
“And to think,” Ienzo said with a mischievous grin, “we aren’t even married yet.”
no subject
Bertie had spread his wings out to lie down, and they’d proved a comfortable enough bed to rest on along with the arm he had wrapped under Ienzo. The wings had been twitching periodically throughout their stargazing, which Ienzo took to be an attempt to keep them from going numb. Now, Bertie was most certainly raising the one Ienzo was laying on.
“Sorry,” Ienzo said, just the tiniest bit disappointed this hadn’t lasted longer. He started to sit up, but Bertie’s grip on him tightened.
“No, no! I didn’t mean...” He trailed off.
The mage looked over at him in confusion. Bertie’s cheeks were flushed with the cold and – his Sense... sense told him – drink. “Bertie, did you want to get up?” It was really always better to be direct with Bertie. There was a slightly higher chance he might give a comprehensible, if still illogical, answer.
“No, I was trying to- Oh dash it!” Bertie chewed his lip for a moment, before coming to some apparent decision. “May I kiss you? I was just trying to get my wing up a bit in case anyone came traipsing along the road.”
“You may,” Ienzo allows with a small, amused smile, “but I’m fairly certain it’s past the time that most people would be out traipsing.” Before he could carry on with a discussion of the fact most of the trolls seemed to have fallen into a typical diurnal sleep pattern in contrast to their more natural nocturnal proclivities, Bertie touched the cold fingers of his free hand to Ienzo’s face. He tipped Ienzo’s chin up for a better position for the requested kiss.
It starts off as their kisses normally do; the kiss is chaste and brief. Instead of leaving it at that like Bertie usually did when he was the one initiating, though, he took a breath and went in for another, this time a firmer press of lips accompanied by further movement as he tried to roll himself to face Ienzo. It wasn’t working very well with the mage pinning one wing.
Ienzo sighed a little internally and broke off the kiss to sit up. He really hoped it wouldn’t ruin the moment, but this needed to be done. “If you’d like to pull your wings to one side?” Bertie scrambled to do so, lying on his side now. Ienzo joined him. The ground wasn’t nearly as comfortable as the other man’s wing had been, but it was still warm, and that was a plus.
Bertie didn’t wait to ask permission this time. As soon as Ienzo was down, he wrapped one arm around the mage’s waist and cupped his cheek with the other hand. The insistent press of lips was joined by a flick of tongue. Ienzo blinked a few times, more than a little shocked at the quick progression of this, but it wasn’t unpleasant. In fact, he’d be hard pressed to say he wasn’t enjoying it thoroughly. He parted his lips and that was when Bertie seemed to freeze for a moment, breaking off.
They’d never actually done this. “It-it’s all right?”
Ienzo gave him a Look, because really, when he opened his mouth to accept, that hardly seemed to indicate anything else. Bertie latched back onto him, tongue tentatively beginning to explore the mage’s mouth. Bertie tasted like the wine and food, and beneath that, tea and mint. Ienzo was suddenly very glad the other man had quit smoking so long ago or this might be a much less pleasurable experience.
Content to continue kissing in the dark on their blanket, Ienzo was again a little surprised to find Bertie stroking his side, fingers dancing at the hem of his vest at the downward edge. Then he wiggled under and started pulling at the button-down shirt beneath. Well, all right, then. The alcohol was certainly making Bertie bold, and him receptive.
Ienzo had been keeping his own hands relaxed, one resting on the back of Bertie’s neck, and the other on his shoulder. Now, though, the mage reached down, pushing Bertie’s hand away for a moment so that he could just tug his shirt free. That accomplished, he grasped the other man’s hand and moved it back to where it had been. Taking it as the invitation it was, Bertie’s fingers began to feel the smooth skin beneath. His soft fingers – pianist’s fingers, not the rough calloused feeling of a scientist – brush up along Ienzo’s waist, skin-to-skin now. It takes a great deal of restraint not to fidget, to stop Bertie before he reaches the binding. He has to remember that’s not there anymore.
What is there, is one of his nipples.
“Hah!” Ienzo pulls out of their kiss to gasp as the other man’s cold hand brushes across the sensitive spot.
He starts to pull back again, eyes wide. “Sorry! Sorry, did that hurt? Oh, God, sorry!”
Ienzo snags Bertie’s hand before he can pull it out from under his shirt entirely. “No! No, it feels very... I like it.”
They resumed once more, but this time, Bertie went for his neck instead of his lips as he moved his fingers gently back up, ghosting them across Ienzo’s stomach and chest along the way. The maddening attention was beginning to make an entirely different part of Ienzo stir with interest in the proceedings.
As if sensing this, it wasn’t half a moment later that Bertie broke off kissing long enough to roll himself and Ienzo over so that Ienzo was the one on his back and Bertie was above him. The larger man’s wings draped around them, hiding their upper halves from view, at least. Bertie used the hand that wasn’t up Ienzo’s shirt to prop himself above the mage. Their legs had gotten tangled somehow Ienzo found himself situated with one of Bertie’s thighs pressed up against the crotch of his trousers while one of Ienzo’s thighs was between Bertie’s legs. When the other man lowered himself and undulated – perhaps unconsciously as he continued to kiss Ienzo’s neck and jaw – it became very apparent that he was similarly aroused.
This seemed something like an important step to talk about, but with Bertie’s rare show of interest and not-entirely-incompetent managing of current affairs, it was a little hard for Ienzo to motivate himself to care. They could always talk afterward, after both their needs were sated. This was his first time like this in a body that felt like it should be, with a man he loved. It could wait.
Bertie’s nails dug into Ienzo’s side as the winged man began rocking his hips. Ienzo felt the movement stimulating his own arousal. It could really wait.
Feeling a little lax in the current proceedings, Ienzo firmed up his footing on the leg Bertie was rubbing against, and moved his hips in rhythm. His fingers found a place laced in Bertie’s hair. He tugged a bit to bring the other man’s mouth back to his own. He could hear Bertie’s muffled moans, but there was nothing to quiet Ienzo’s own. A mouth on his would suit both their purposes.
The kissing was more desperate now, and Bertie rocked faster. When Bertie’s fingers went back to circling and brushing Ienzo’s nipple, he was gone. Ienzo cried out, but Bertie’s lips dampened the sound. His whole body seized up, the intensity washing over him in a roiling wave of pleasure. The sensation was that of having touched a live wire, but one that did not burn or wound. It was another half a minute of rocking before Bertie reached his own peak. His smooth motions stuttered to a halt and he all but collapsed upon Ienzo. It was more weight than was comfortable, but Ienzo let him have a few moments to catch his breath and enjoy the white aftershocks of pleasure as he had.
“That was... unexpected,” Ienzo said, breathless, as he began to squirm a little. “Pleasantly so.” Taking the cue, Bertie pushed himself up and moved off to one side, still on his stomach. He left his wing to lie over Ienzo like a blanket.
Bertie let the silence stretch out for a long moment before he replied, “Oh... I think we might need new pants, though.”
Ienzo glanced down at his crotch. He couldn’t see any stain in the dark, but he could smell it. How unfortunate. He’s liked these pants, and the trousers for that matter. The thought is so absurd after what had just happened that Ienzo couldn’t help chuckling. Bertie joined him after a moment.
“And to think,” Ienzo said with a mischievous grin, “we aren’t even married yet.”