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Asahi's steady breath filled his awareness before Durin's sense of self reemerged into being. He stirred with the softest of moans, his arms all too empty, and so he reached to fill them without a thought.
Around Asahi's waist he twined them, his forehead pressing between shoulder-blades and horns touching to the back of Asahi's head. He felt a whir beneath the surface, a pulsing like a heartbeat, though Asahi told him repeatedly that he didn't have one. But when Durin's fingers splayed out against Asahi's chest, against his stomach, he felt all the same micro-motions of life beneath his touch. Durin lifted his head with a trail of hot breath, pressing a kiss to the back of his neck.
It was then, as Durin slipped a hand under his shirt to palm Asahi's skin, that he shifted back against Durin.
"What do you think you're doing?" he asked. The hand that hadn't wandered underneath his clothes, he claimed, threading their fingers together.
He stilled as he considered the question. In truth, Durin hadn't thought about it. From the moment he roused from sleep, to now, his body moved on its own. He wanted to embrace Asahi, wanted to touch him, wanted to feel the dips and crests of his body—as simple as that.
"Touching you." Durin nuzzled the juncture of his shoulder and neck. Kisses soon followed, open-mouthed. His teeth harmlessly scraped over skin; Asahi shivered and his breathing stuttered.
Desire coiled low in his gut, radiating through his body. Below his waist, something else stirred to wakefulness, and Durin pressed it up against Asahi's backside. All chance at an innocent meaning behind his answer flew out the window.
His hand crept lower until his finger reached Asahi's waistband. He toyed with it, waiting as if for some signal from Asahi.
He got it in the faintest groan humming low in the back of Asahi's throat. Reaching blindly behind him, he found the hard curve of Durin's horn. From there, his fingers slipped to massage Durin's scalp. Then a scratch sent tingles from head to tail, activating every neuron along the way. His own breath grew heavier.
Durin plunged his hand into Asahi's shorts. Asahi turned his head, and Durin rose to devour his moans with his lips.
Later that morning they were both in the kitchen, Asahi making breakfast as Durin perched on the counter watching with interest. He had a mug of hot chocolate cupped in his lap, enjoying the heat of a drink at the start of the day. Beside him was Asahi's, tea currently brewing under Durin's attention. It didn't require much, but it was at least something that he could do while Asahi cooked.
His legs swung just enough to tap the cabinet on the downswing, a rhythmic thump-thump that added to the sounds of the morning—the birds singing, windchimes tinkling, a spoon scrape-tonking against a pot. A hum worked up in his throat, his tail swishing idly against where it hung from the counter. He took a long drink, allowing the decadent warmth to spread and fill him. The sigh that drew forth was languid and content.
He set his mug aside and tended to Asahi's cup, picking at the end of the string and agitating the teabag inside before plucking it out. Swiftly, he crossed the kitchen to toss it, then hopped back up onto his place on the counter when he returned.
"You look pleased with yourself." Asahi glanced in his direction with what might've been vague disapproval, to which Durin only beamed.
"Didn't you enjoy yourself too?" he asked in open sincerity.
Somehow Asahi managed to look scolding even as heat crept visibly into his cheeks. Durin took it in eagerly, how vivid and beautiful Asahi looked when he flushed. But rather than respond to the question, Asahi switched gears. "Don't sit on the counter."
The tip of his tail flicked. His smile turned playful. "Why not? I like being up here."
Sitting on the counter was never actually a problem. From Durin's observation, Asahi only expressed irritation over it when it was something else bubbling inside of him—not always negative. Perhaps he was embarrassed over how much he enjoyed when Durin touched him, though Durin could not imagine why. It felt good, and Durin was happy to make him feel good. Durin wasn't ashamed of that.
Asahi didn't respond at first. He turned off the heat and moved his pot to a cold burner. Then he turned to face Durin with such an intense stare that his stomach fluttered.
He strode over to Durin, stepping between his knees. Slipping his arms around his waist, Asahi scooped him straight off the counter with a spin that made Durin laugh and wrap his legs around him.
With his arms an anchor around Asahi's neck, Durin's wings opened up as if to steady himself as he whirled through the air. Asahi brought them to the wall, where Durin's wings spread out flat against the cold surface behind him. Between it and Asahi, Durin was pressed, and the position had his lashes fluttering, lips parted with interest.
Propping him against the wall, Asahi freed a hand to smooth against the membrane of Durin's wing. Durin closed his eyes with the touch, his tongue flicking across his lips.
"You are so…" A thousand meanings hung in the air between them as Asahi didn't finish his statement. Instead, he pressed closer to Durin and let his hand explore over the fingers of his wing. His touch left a tingling heat where it landed, until Durin was panting lightly from the neediness it stirred up in him.
He pressed the heel of his hand to his mouth as Asahi trailed his fingers along his wing back to his body. Just beneath where it met his back, Asahi dragged his nails lightly over the skin. Durin giggled and squirmed at the sensation. And when Asahi did it again, he gasped and kicked out his feet. They fell to the floor with a heavy slap.
"That tickles," he said through an inhale.
Asahi's mouth found his jaw, working his way to nip at his ear. "You deserve it for messing around." He spoke in a wickedly low tone that went straight through Durin with a shudder.
His scratching turned to massaging, and the same ticklish sensation turned to pleasure. Durin's tail lashed and he squeezed his arms around Asahi tighter.
"Breakfast…" Durin protested weakly, even as he pulled Asahi harder against him.
"…will still be there later," Asahi said, hooking his fingers in Durin's waistband and yanking so that he sprang free.
Durin gasped at the cold air, but it did not last long before Asahi swooped back in to trap it between their pressing bodies.