Work Text:
“Lauma,” Kyryll groaned, his hands wrapped tightly around her waist as looked up to her, longing for her touch even when their bodies had become one. He wants to stitch his soul with hers, so that they may never part. “Slowly, you’ll hurt yourself.”
Even when her hair was disheveled, some strands stuck on her skin because of sweat, her gracefulness is never forgotten. She was the revelation to a god-forsaken man, the promise of bliss in his years of unrest, the fuel to his waning flame… and he loved her so much it mended the pieces of his soul back together.
His breath hitches when Lauma tightens up around his trembling cock and picks a faster pace, she moans quietly, afraid her noise might be heard, even if it was euphonous to her lover’s ears. Her hand grips Kyryll’s shoulder while the other caresses his face. Her hips slow down so she can kiss Kyryll again, their tongue dances in the unholy music their skin makes. Lauma may have wanted their kiss to be gentle, but, as ironic as it is, when Faes did not feel hunger, he kissed her like a carnivore craves for blood and bones; careless, messy, ravenous.
For a moment, he stops and chuckles, “It’s my turn to gratify you.”
“Please… don’t stop.” Lauma pleads, pulling Kyryll close to her again. Now who could ever resist such a request? Certainly not him, no. It would be utter blasphemy.
In obeisance, he gently pushes her down to the bed, breaking their kiss to suckle on her nipple, while the other is caressed by his warm hand. Contrary to their fast pace earlier, he chose to thrust inside her slowly now, wanting to feel every inch of flesh and warmth, to watch how deep his cock could go, and hear her moans of pleasure. He feels exalted every single time, like rapture is happening and a second coming has finally begun.
“Lauma,” this time, it was him who was pleading, it was him who called out her name like he wanted to atone for his sins, “Does it feel good?”
Lauma would answer yes and yes and yes each time, until they finally reached heaven themselves. When their ritual is finally over, he wraps his arms around her in satisfaction, “Why are you so kind to me?” He asks.
“Why shouldn’t I be?” She answered, leaning back against his chest, to feel his skin, even if it lacked the usual warmth of humans. “Do Faes also think that this kind of intimacy is just mere kindness?”
Kyryll does not find it in himself to lie, why else would someone as sacred as her bestow someone of his kind warmth, when even in the past, the Faes and Frostmoon Scions have been contradicting each others’ beliefs, even if they are entities similar to each other.
“Yes.” Lauma becomes quiet, waiting for him to take back his word. “Although, I’m rather inclined to think that you have another reason.”
He hears her laugh, “I do.”
He presses a kiss on the space just between her neck and the back of her ear, “You tether my soul to the soils of this earth in ways I did not believe possible. And… I have been hoping you felt the same.” He whispers softly, even if his thoughts were erratic. He finds himself nervous as he awaits the Moonchanter’s response to his sudden confession.
When she doesn’t speak, he swallows his pride and withdraws all subtleties. “I love you.”
Lauma turns to him, brushing off the single tear that ran on his cheek, “Why do you think that I didn’t feel the same way?” Lauma asked, “When I have been finding excuses just to see you every single night.”
He feels relief and bliss, his affection for her has not gone unnoticed. “What would the gods say?” He knew of their practice and the unusual customs that forbid her to even marry someone of his kind. He could care less of what happens to him, but what of her?
“The gods would have to understand.” She whispers before he claims Kyryll’s lips, and they kiss again like real people do. She was surprisingly stubborn in her convictions, all the more adding to his devotion towards her. “My love for you will not disappear from a single prayer.”
Kyryll has never understood the poems and passionate ballads from the old days, he thought it to be just human practice, but oh, how wrong he was. As it turns out, Faes were not immune to love at all. Their desire was as carnal as all the beings that walked this world.