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The long grasses made the air sweet, whispering against the gentle breeze that rolled down the hills as the sun dipped farther below the crests of the mountains. Blue ink wash delicately saturating the colours of the spring with the promise of summer and the clear night sky that came with it.
Qifrey let his head fall back, languid movement matched with the ruffle of his day clothes in the wind. The heavy tassels knotted expertly to the ends of his belting tapped against his upper thigh through his skirt almost like fingertips. He closed his eyes, and focused on the thick taps.
Tried not to think about calloused, kind hands, or broad palms smoothed and pinkened from old scars.
Tried not to think about them sliding over the top of his thighs towards their interior as he shifted his legs and the tassels shifted with him.
Tried to stop the shiver that slid down his spine.
“Mm,” the soft, needy noise vibrated in Qifrey throat before he registered it. His breath shuddered, still trying to maintain the gentle silence of the field. He extended his neck — tucking his cheek against the seam of embroidery circling the jut of his shoulder — and the phantom sensation of coarse whiskers pressed against the sensitive skin made his skin feel hot.
He let his mind wander. Whiskers tickling against his skin with a smile before lips kissed against the skin and a thick, warm tongue preceded the gentle pressure of teeth against him. A single pant puffed out of Qifrey, gently opening his mouth and letting the sweet air wash over him again. Meticulous pressure stayed against his neck, nipping and sucking, marking his skin dark.
Qifrey’s ears went red thinking about if anyone would see him with lover’s marks over his neck and dipping below his hems. His eyebrows tensed, blush deepening more at the thought of having more than one, but he didn’t open his eyes. The illusion too tempting to break just yet.
Electric warm pulsed through the length of his torso. Coiled against his lower abdomen. The tassels pushed against his inner thigh, and the image of deft hands sliding closer to the pulsing warmth made Qifrey draw up his knees a little — another small hum vibrating out of his throat without much thought.
A warm, palm-sized weight pressed against his lower stomach. Qifrey shivered. Breathy moan quietly panting out of his slack mouth at the new weight.
“Y’can’t be sleeping out here, Qifrey. You’ll catch your death.” Olruggio’s voice sounded a little more hoarse than usual, something bubbling up in his chest he tried to keep safely hidden away.
Qifrey jumped. Mouth snapping shut and curling into himself, hands automatically going to pull his skirt taut to hide any desire behind shame. “Olly!”
Olruggio dropped down onto the grass beside Qifrey, eyes closed before he even laid back onto the grass. Even in the deepening night-dark the blush splashed against his cheeks was easy to see. “You didn’t come in for tea this evenin’.”
The warm accent of his dearest companion made his skin quiver against the snugstone still nestled just above the thickening trail of hair. Embarrassment mixed with more shame that he’d been caught thinking about the other. “I’m sorry my dear friend.” He carefully removed the warming stone, cradling it in both of his palms. “I must have lost track of time.”
“Kettle’s still on first hot.” Olruggio peeked open the eye closest to the other, pupil blown so wide his blue eye nearly looked black. “If y’want to come split some with me?”
Qifrey folded himself forward, pressing his cheek against the tops of his knees and tucking his heels neatly against the backs of his thighs. His hands still cradling the stone protectively against his torso.
“Hm?” Olruggio prompted again.
“I think I will, yes.” A small smile spread over Qifrey’s face. “Thank you, Olly.”