Winter
The Phouka was lonely. He flew about the city in his Raven-self, observing mortals to try to find something that would catch his attention. The prince was quiet and rarely came out of his room, leaving the Phouka to bring him shiny trinkets. He didn't even have Keat's companionship.
This was, in his opinion, ridiculous.
He went to the hotel, Man-shaped, and he found Finlay's room. Riding the lift he knew he wanted only to see Winter. He did not care for the troubles between the prince and his love. He did not care. He cared only for Winter and he missed the pixie's light and company. So he found himself at the door and he knocked, hoping it would be Winter who answered.
This was, in his opinion, ridiculous.
He went to the hotel, Man-shaped, and he found Finlay's room. Riding the lift he knew he wanted only to see Winter. He did not care for the troubles between the prince and his love. He did not care. He cared only for Winter and he missed the pixie's light and company. So he found himself at the door and he knocked, hoping it would be Winter who answered.
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Winter watched a moment longer, admiring the perfectly sculpted body of the Phouka before pulling his own shirt off over his head. His wardrobe was still subdued, a deep plumb shirt and dark black jeans, but a bit of the child remained in the long necklace that hung around his neck that featured a small pirate ship.
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It made his whole body sing, and though the added height made him seem even more gaunt and sharp, he looked well. He lit up under the Phouka's affection.
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"Phouka," he moaned. "Phouka, my Phouka..."
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"You still taste as sweet," he murmered, then kissed him again.
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He liked Phouka like this. So wild and raw... It was a true thrill.
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He drew back and smiled then, a wolfish grin all teeth and promise.
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"My Phouka," he whispered, wondering if any other pixie could claim to have a phouka all their own to love and enjoy. ...The thought that he might be the only one made him terribly pleased.
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"Phouka," he panted, breathless and whimpering, then growling softly. Feral and wanton.
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The Phouka laughed at that, the deep sound of it rolling out of his chest. He stopped only when the mark was left and then he kissed his way back up Winter's body to find his mouth again.
"Hungry little pixie," he taunted, moving so his hard cock could rub against Winter's, the friction delicious and teasing.
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He could smell Winter's desire, coming off him in waves. It was hot and sweet and spicy- the way he'd smelled when the Phouka had inhaled him, but even more so now.
"Oh, sweetness, I do want you," he rasped, then caught Winter's mouth in a savage kiss. His tongue plunged in, passing teeth so he could tangle his own with Winter's. His sharp teeth caught the pixie's lip more than once as he tilted his head this way and then that.
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"I love you," he panted. "My Phouka, my love, my heart..."
He groaned, fingers tangling in Phouka's hair, then growled softly.
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His heart swelled to hear such words and his stomach fluttered in the most wonderful way.
"And you are my pixie. My love. My precious," the Phouka said and he kissed Winter again ad again.
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By the time the pixie was truly spent, his stomach was growling with hunger and his skin was pink and almost dew kissed in appearance.
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The Phouka hardly knew what to make of Winter at the moment. They had never been so wild before. He loved it. Loved how free he felt with the other man.
"I do love you, my treasure," he said as he gave Winter a lazy, drowsy kiss. He could barely keep his eyes open, drained as he was.
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"I would be honoured to stay the night, my love. I, too, hate sleeping alone. I miss you terribly, Winter. My heart aches when you are not home," he said softly.
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"We should get our own home," Winter said softly. "Something grand and lovely."
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"With a garden? With grass to eat and space to run? I would like that very much. A home for us. I am free now, yes? We could do anything we want to," he replied with a soft smile.
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