Post by sylvanius on Mar 10, 2016 12:14:49 GMT 10
Title:
Chasing the Sun
Summary: There is an exception to the rules of their relationship. A game they play. One-shot. Post-EM, Pre-Relationship.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Sexual themes/undertones.
Author's Note: I'm getting back into writing after a very long absence. Any feedback at all is GREATLY appreciated!
--
Propriety had always been an acute concern of his when it came to their relationship. As much as he could muster anyway. He understood that their relationship was unusual in more ways than one and that his peculiar, to say the least, reputation did nothing to help their circumstances. Nonetheless he did what he could to mitigate the damage to her reputation. She laughed at him when he admonished her for her affection, saying one more rumor would hardly do her in. She said the rumors at court were tame compared to Snowsdale. Mostly this just made him angry but he stood his ground. Later, she would understand.
She would understand that their ages mattered. That to others it could so easily appear that he was taking advantage of her. How easily he could take advantage of her. She was no child but she was young and, in the ways of men and women, naïve. This fact was both comforting and distressing to him. Something he preferred not to think about. Among other things.
A taunting shout reached across the meadow and his head turned towards the sound. The summer had brought an…exception to their relationship. Daine grinned at him, bare shoulders and head just visible above the long, golden grass. Her hair was windswept and the strong sunlight gleamed against the thin sheen of sweat covering her tanned skin. He called back, matching her challenge and bracing himself. Switchgrass skimmed his bare hips and stomach, encouraged by the late-summer wind. She ran. He could see flashes of her form through the meadow until, suddenly, he couldn’t. A brown falcon was rising from the meadow in her stead and he was already following. Adrenaline raced through him as he felt the familiar pull of his body forming into something it was not. He flew.
They chased each other through the air, nipping at each other and pulling back. Wheeling through the hot air above the clearing in the game of tag they’d developed over the previous months. She chased this time. He veered to the right and rose sharply and she missed by several yards. She was a better flyer than him and it wouldn’t be long before she was close enough to brush his wings with her own—victory. For now, however, he gave her a good chase. The smaller hawk shrieked at him as he once again evaded her. How strange it was to know her so well that even in that form he could sense her amusement. Their game continued as the sun continued its descent, the clearing now awash in a fierce golden light. She was using the glaring sun to her advantage now and he was impressed he’d lasted this long. She swooped behind him, and he turned right into her trap. Blinded by the sun he slowed and dived at the last minute; a last ditch effort to not forfeit their game.
Still half blinded Numair almost didn’t see the ground until it was almost too late. He shifted back to his human form, landing hard but maintaining his balance. He winced, knowing he would feel that in his knees the following morning. A woosh of air pushed past him, followed by a wing running along his shoulder and morphing before his eyes into a slim hand as it came to rest on his chest.
“Got you,” Daine breathed, winded and wide-eyed. She slid her hand away, fingers moving through the hair on his chest, and let it fall to her side. The setting sun bore down on them, wispy ends of the long grass rustling against their thighs and her hips, and Numair blinked away the remaining sunspots hindering his vision. They had seen each other naked before but never so close, so bare. Her chest rose and fell quickly, matching his own rapid breathing. She moved, barely a twitch of the arm but enough to make him think of lines he did not need blurred. He took flight again. Quick air moved through his re-formed feathers; calming and familiar. He turned back and watched the woman below. She was in the same spot; head down, hand draped across her stomach. He turned again, letting the sunlight blind him once more.
Chasing the Sun
Summary: There is an exception to the rules of their relationship. A game they play. One-shot. Post-EM, Pre-Relationship.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Sexual themes/undertones.
Author's Note: I'm getting back into writing after a very long absence. Any feedback at all is GREATLY appreciated!
--
Propriety had always been an acute concern of his when it came to their relationship. As much as he could muster anyway. He understood that their relationship was unusual in more ways than one and that his peculiar, to say the least, reputation did nothing to help their circumstances. Nonetheless he did what he could to mitigate the damage to her reputation. She laughed at him when he admonished her for her affection, saying one more rumor would hardly do her in. She said the rumors at court were tame compared to Snowsdale. Mostly this just made him angry but he stood his ground. Later, she would understand.
She would understand that their ages mattered. That to others it could so easily appear that he was taking advantage of her. How easily he could take advantage of her. She was no child but she was young and, in the ways of men and women, naïve. This fact was both comforting and distressing to him. Something he preferred not to think about. Among other things.
A taunting shout reached across the meadow and his head turned towards the sound. The summer had brought an…exception to their relationship. Daine grinned at him, bare shoulders and head just visible above the long, golden grass. Her hair was windswept and the strong sunlight gleamed against the thin sheen of sweat covering her tanned skin. He called back, matching her challenge and bracing himself. Switchgrass skimmed his bare hips and stomach, encouraged by the late-summer wind. She ran. He could see flashes of her form through the meadow until, suddenly, he couldn’t. A brown falcon was rising from the meadow in her stead and he was already following. Adrenaline raced through him as he felt the familiar pull of his body forming into something it was not. He flew.
They chased each other through the air, nipping at each other and pulling back. Wheeling through the hot air above the clearing in the game of tag they’d developed over the previous months. She chased this time. He veered to the right and rose sharply and she missed by several yards. She was a better flyer than him and it wouldn’t be long before she was close enough to brush his wings with her own—victory. For now, however, he gave her a good chase. The smaller hawk shrieked at him as he once again evaded her. How strange it was to know her so well that even in that form he could sense her amusement. Their game continued as the sun continued its descent, the clearing now awash in a fierce golden light. She was using the glaring sun to her advantage now and he was impressed he’d lasted this long. She swooped behind him, and he turned right into her trap. Blinded by the sun he slowed and dived at the last minute; a last ditch effort to not forfeit their game.
Still half blinded Numair almost didn’t see the ground until it was almost too late. He shifted back to his human form, landing hard but maintaining his balance. He winced, knowing he would feel that in his knees the following morning. A woosh of air pushed past him, followed by a wing running along his shoulder and morphing before his eyes into a slim hand as it came to rest on his chest.
“Got you,” Daine breathed, winded and wide-eyed. She slid her hand away, fingers moving through the hair on his chest, and let it fall to her side. The setting sun bore down on them, wispy ends of the long grass rustling against their thighs and her hips, and Numair blinked away the remaining sunspots hindering his vision. They had seen each other naked before but never so close, so bare. Her chest rose and fell quickly, matching his own rapid breathing. She moved, barely a twitch of the arm but enough to make him think of lines he did not need blurred. He took flight again. Quick air moved through his re-formed feathers; calming and familiar. He turned back and watched the woman below. She was in the same spot; head down, hand draped across her stomach. He turned again, letting the sunlight blind him once more.
Maybe once we'd have seen it during Smackdown!