[Flights of Fancy] Finding Home 07
Jul. 2nd, 2018 06:25 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dracoqueen22Title: Finding Home
Characters: Drift, Perceptor, Original Character(s)
Universe: Flights of Fancy, Harpyformers
Rating: M
Enticements: Sexual Content, First Meetings, Friends to Lovers, Love at First Sight
Description: Perceptor’s spent so long among the humans, he’s almost forgotten how much he misses other harpies, until Drift wanders into Kaon, a pretty package of everything Perceptor never knew he wanted.
Chapter Seven
Perceptor woke to the smell of toasted bread and the sweet, tartness of jam. The bed they’d upgraded to creaked beneath him, and his left side was chillier than it ought to be. Where was Drift?
“Good morning, cupcake.” Lips brushed Perceptor’s forehead as his eyes fluttered open.
Drift leaned over him, a smile on his lips, a brightness in his eyes. “Do you know what today is?”
Perceptor rolled over to face him better. “Tuesday?” He fought off a yawn.
He’d stayed up much too late scribbling down a hypothesis and trying to work out the math. By the time he’d joined Drift in bed, Drift was fast asleep, though he’d rolled into Perceptor for warmth, making a cute little noise as he did so.
Drift laughed and sat on the edge of the bed, resting a tray in his lap. “Well, yeah. It is Tuesday. But that’s not what I meant.”
Perceptor pulled himself upright. “It’s not a holiday that I recall.”
He eyed the tray. A small vase with a bunch of white lilies rested in the center. A porcelain dish was carefully plated with toast and jam – Drift’s handmade blackberry jam no less. A glass of orange juice sat next to it. Perceptor would bet it was fresh-squeezed.
He prodded at his sleep-fogged brain to recall what Drift might have meant. “The Strawberry Festival is today,” he said. “I remember you wanted to attend.”
“Also yes.” Drift chuckled and set the tray on Perceptor’s lap, flipping out two legs on either side so it rested safely on the bed. “But still wrong.”
Perceptor touched the lacy cloth lining the tray. “It must be something important,” he murmured before he caught Drift’s gaze. “Something important for you and I.” He paused, thinking hard, and when it came to him, it was like a burst of light. “Oh! It has been one year since you were found outside the gate.”
Drift beamed. “And it only took you three tries.” He scooted over until he sat next to Perceptor, one talon scraping through the extra bowl of jam to bring it to his lips. “Though it’s hard to believe it’s been a full year.”
“Such a short time and yet so much has happened,” Perceptor murmured. “And you brought me breakfast in bed. Thank you, Drift.” He pressed a kiss to his partner’s cheek. “You are so sweet.”
“It’s nothing really. Just a little surprise because I wanted to.” Drift leaned his head on Perceptor’s shoulder. “I’m glad you found me.”
“As am I.” Perceptor nibbled on the bread, the sweet and tart flavors of the blackberry spilling over his tongue.
Affection rose in a hot wave throughout his body. He looked at Drift and felt such a throb of adoration he knew he could ignore it no longer. He knew the breadth of his emotions. He knew he had to share them.
He set down the bread. He took Drift’s hand and tangled their fingers together.
“I’d like to tell you something,” Perceptor said as he met Drift’s eyes with his own. “But I want you to understand that it is a gift freely given. You are under no obligation to return it. I simply want you to know.”
Drift looked down at their linked fingers, and then he looked up at Perceptor, his eyes wide and startled. “Perceptor--”
He cut Drift off with a finger to Drift’s lips. “Shh.” Perceptor cupped Drift’s face, and swept a thumb over his cheek. “I love you,” he said, because it was true, and he knew it with every beat of his core. Perhaps a part of him had loved Drift from the moment they met. It was why everything between them was always so easy.
“I love who you are, who I am with you, and I cherish every moment we spend together,” Perceptor continued, a thickness growing in his throat, to match the shimmer in Drift’s eyes. “And I want you to know that, not because you are obligated to respond, but because you deserve to know how I feel.”
Drift’s mouth opened and closed. His cheek heated under Perceptor’s palm. His fingers trembled, and his tongue swept over his lips. He looked like a rabbit caught in the eyes of a hawk, frozen with fear, knowing it should run, but uncertain of which direction it should go, for all ways seemed deadly and wrong.
Perceptor kissed him, for what else could he do in the face of that fear? He pressed his lips to Drift, sharing the flavor of the blackberries Drift had lovingly prepared for him. He kept the kiss gentle, chaste, with only the barest sweep of his tongue, before he drew back.
“I love you,” Perceptor repeated firmly, and then he withdrew, returning his attention to the tray in his lap. “And now I will enjoy this delicious breakfast you brought for me so that I have my energy for today. You do still want to attend the festival, yes?”
“I do,” Drift replied, his voice crackling. He stood up from the bed, turning away from Perceptor in a hurry. “I, um, need something to drink. I’ll be right back.”
He fled as Perceptor sipped at his orange juice – fresh squeezed as he suspected – and nibbled on the jam-laden bread. It was all quite good. Sweet, as only something made with love could be.
He was not disappointed Drift didn’t immediately reply. On the contrary, Perceptor suspected that would be the case. He’d seen the hurt in Drift’s eyes one too many times, the pain which made him occasionally flinch away, the topics of his past he avoided as though they were plague-ridden. There were scars on Drift’s core, scars which made love and affection seem like an impossible dream. Perhaps he wasn’t ready to hear it yet. Perhaps he wasn’t ready to trust it yet.
It had been a gift, and Perceptor never regretted giving those.
So he ate his breakfast and waited for his lover to return. They would have a good day today, Perceptor decided. He was sure of it.
~
The Strawberry Festival was one of Kaon’s biggest attractions. It drew in visitors from nearby citystates and was a great source of revenue for the university, the student associations, and programs which relied upon donations and earnings to continue. Not only was the strawberry theme central to Kaon’s history, but it also produced an opportunity for the student’s themselves to showcase their talents and all they’ve learned.
Stands were set up as students hawked their wares, from art to food to homemade trinkets to raffles. The main quad was decorated with streamers and multicolored lanterns, and bright ropes helped guide visitors to each area. Live music filled the air, and the scent of food – strawberry above all else but other flavors also – floated along with it. The walkways were packed with people, and no few of them gawked at the harpy duo in their midst.
Kaonites were used to seeing Perceptor and now Drift. But the visitors were not. Far too many cameras flashed for Perceptor’s comfort, but he bore it with dignity. If even one human could be convinced that Harpies were sapient and not monsters, he would endure. It was worth it. Besides, it was easier to endure, now that he had a partner beside him.
A quiet partner, to be fair. Drift seemed to be lost in thought ever since he returned to their room without the drink he’d claimed to need. His behavior had been tentative, but he’d come with Perceptor to the Festival eagerly enough. His enthusiasm returned in short spurts as he laid eyes on the Festival, and his feet tapped to the music as though he wanted to dance.
Sampling the available foods was a must. Everything had a strawberry theme of course, but the variety of ways to include the strawberry in assorted recipes was amazing.
Strawberry salads and vinaigrettes. Pies and cookies and pastries. Wines and juices. Chocolate-covered, caramel-covered. Frozen and iced. Dried and freezer-dried. It was used as a glaze, a jam, a filling, everything one could possibly think of.
Then came a booth featuring several different cultivars of strawberries, along with some attempts at cross-breeding with other species. Some of the results were grotesque, and didn’t look worth tasting. Others were intriguing, and Perceptor nibbled on more than a few odd berries. Drift purchased three potted versions available, and had Artemis hold them aside.
“For the garden,” he said, lips stained pink from his sampling, and his face carrying a blush to match.
Perceptor wanted to kiss him, taste strawberry on his lips and see how much sweeter it would be. He refrained, if only because he was so aware of the cameras and eyes watching them. And because Drift was still a little skittish in the wake of Perceptor’s confession.
“Whatever you want,” Perceptor replied, and gently wiped a bit of strawberry filling from the corner of Drift’s mouth.
More booths attracted their attention. He let Drift lead the way, following in his lover’s wake, taking careful note of the things to which Drift paid special attention. He could always use hints for what to get Drift as a gift.
Which meant, of course, he didn’t fail to notice Drift’s lingering gaze on the central stage and the musicians upon it. Or more specifically, the dancers who were enjoying the various styles of music.
“Do you want to dance?” Perceptor asked.
Drift looked, startled. “What?” He let go of the strawberry-themed blanket he was admiring.
Perceptor tilted his head toward the space cleared for the dance floor. “Will you dance with me?”
Drift looked around, a little wild. “Are we even allowed to?”
“Of course.” Perceptor smiled and offered a hand to his partner. “I know quite a few myself. Shall I lead?”
There was hesitation in the way Drift’s fingers slipped into his palm – not because Drift didn’t want to, but because he wasn’t sure he was allowed. Perceptor suspected it had to do with his upbringing, whoever it was who had worked so hard to stifle the artist within him.
“Don’t you always?” Drift replied with a hint of his usual cheeky humor.
Perceptor swung him gently onto the dance floor, in the midst of the human dancers, who made room for them. “Only because you let me.” He curled an arm around Drift’s waist and smiled when Drift knowledgeably placed his free hand on Perceptor’s shoulder.
“Because I want you to,” Drift replied, barely louder than a murmur, his eyes wide as he looked up at Perceptor.
“And that, sunshine, is why we work so well together.” Perceptor pulled Drift close, until they were pressed nearly belly to belly. “I know you have rhythm. Listen for it. I’ll do the rest. Trust me. It’s no different than the dance you do with your blade.”
Drift’s face flushed. “That’s not a dance though,” he said.
“You say that only because you’ve never had the pleasure of watching yourself move in the sunlight,” Perceptor murmured. He pressed their noses briefly together. “Now. Listen.”
He closed his eyes, focused on the music. He squeezed Drift’s hands, waiting for the proper beat, and then he took a step, moving into it. Drift moved with him, as Perceptor knew he would. The music was in Drift’s core, had been for the past fifteen minutes as they circled around the dance floor, Drift yearning but never saying so.
“See?” Perceptor said as they swayed and spun to the beat, matching the elegant waltz with all the other humans. “Your core knows what to do already.”
Drift’s hand trembled in his. He looked up at Perceptor with bright eyes. “They teach you this in Tyger Pax?”
“We learned many things,” Perceptor answered. He slid a step backward, and Drift matched him, without once looking down at his feet. “The pursuit of knowledge has always been a core tenet of Tyger Pax, no matter how inconsequential it might seem.”
“Except for studying humans apparently.”
Perceptor inclined his head. “Except for that. There are some dangers not worth pursuing, I suppose. But dance is harmless.” He flexed his fingers against Drift’s back, pulling him into a slow spin. “Not to mention flirtatious.”
Drift’s lips twitched toward a smile. “I do feel a little seduced.”
“As well you should.”
They nearly bumped a human couple, and apologies were quickly offered, but the humans didn’t mind. Perceptor was distantly aware of the flash of cameras, and perhaps someone out there was recording them, but it didn’t matter. He pretended it was only he and Drift on the dance floor, enjoying the moment.
The music swelled into a faster beat, building to a crescendo. Drift followed him with ease, as though his feet knew the steps already. He’d always been a quick learner. The drums seemed to beat in tune with the rapid pulse of Perceptor’s core.
Or perhaps that was the way the world narrowed around him. Because while he was peripherally aware of other dancers, he stared into Drift’s eyes and only knew Drift and the music, the grass beneath his talons, the sweet scent of strawberries in the warm air, the press of their bodies, so close. Perhaps, even, he could feel Drift’s core beating against his chest.
Loving him was the easiest part.
A step to the right, two to the left, forward, back, spin, spin, and with a chiming clang of the cymbal, Perceptor tipped Drift into a dip, feathers draped across the ground in a beautiful spill of grays and white, Drift looking up at him with bright brown eyes, like polished amber. His tongue swept across his lips.
“I love you,” Drift said, nearly lost to the applause.
Perceptor pulled Drift upright. “What?” he asked, dumbly. Had he heard what Drift said, or what he’d hoped his partner would say?
“I love you,” Drift repeated and his eyes shimmered. “And I mean it. Not because I think I owe it to you, but because it’s true. It’s been true for a while, I was just afraid to say it, because that would mean admitting it was real, and everything real I’ve ever wanted I wasn’t allowed to keep.”
Perceptor’s mouth went dry. He thought he ought to say something, but words fluttered away from his tongue.
“So I love you,” Drift said, again, for the third time, sounding even more certain than the first two times. “And, uh, I guess I just wanted you to know that.”
Perceptor swallowed over a lump in his throat. “Just when I think you can’t amaze me more,” he murmured. “I love you, too, and if I can’t kiss you right now, I think my core might explode.”
Drift chuckled and rose up on his tarsals, sealing his mouth over Perceptor’s in a hot and hard kiss. Their bodies pressed together, heat to heat, and Perceptor was even more certain this time he could feel the rapid fluttering of Drift’s core.
Something flashed in the corner of his eye.
Perceptor ended the kiss with a nip to Drift’s lips and turned to acknowledge it. He was not at all surprised to find Ms. Jessica a few paces away, a camera in hand and her newest suitor doggedly trailing after her, laden with bags and boxes of her purchases.
“I hope you don’t mind,” Ms. Jessica said, her cheeks flushed with excitement. She held up her camera, giving it a wiggle. “But I swear that was the cutest thing I’ve seen all year.”
Perceptor bit back a sigh.
Drift pressed against him, tucking his head under Perceptor’s chin. “That depends,” he said lightly. “Are you going to give us a copy?”
Perceptor slid his arms around his lover and chuckled. “Yes. A framed one even,” he added.
Dr. Jessica’s eyes lit up. “Of course! Anything you want.” She scuttled closer, her sandals flipflopping against her heels. “I have to ask, how did you learn to dance like that?”
Perceptor offered her a polite smile. “I’m happy to tell you, but perhaps another time. Drift and I are on a date right now.”
“Oh my goodness. You’re right! How rude of me.” A flush stained Ms. Jessica’s cheeks beneath her freckles. She stepped back closer to her own date. “I am, too. But Francis is at least used to me running off on my own. Aren’t you, dear?”
Francis gave her the most indulgent smile. “You are a bundle of enthusiasm and energy that I find irresistibly delightful.”
Ms. Jessica replied with a quite girlish giggle. “Oh, you.” She gave them a playful slap to the shoulder. “You’re such a charmer.”
Drift leaned up toward Perceptor’s ear. “Please tell me we’re not that ridiculous in public.”
Perceptor laughed. “Come now. I think it’s cute,” he teased as Ms. Jessica giggled again and wound her elbow through her date’s, tugging them along.
“Let’s go, Francis. We shouldn’t disturb the lovebirds anymore.” She winked at Perceptor. “Get it? Lovebirds?”
“Oh, Adaptus.” Drift buried a snorting laugh in Perceptor’s throat.
Perceptor’s lips twitched. He smiled, too.
They watched Ms. Jessica drag her date away. Around them, the music started up again, a faster beat this time, something meant to wriggle, too. This was not really Perceptor’s forte.
“Shall we return to the festival, cupcake?” Perceptor asked as he tangled his fingers with Drift’s.
He received an affectionate squeeze in return. “As long as I’m with you, I’m happy doing anything.”
“Now who’s the one being sappy?” Perceptor teased. He towed Drift off the dance floor, carefully avoiding the humans twisting and spinning and gyrating to the rapid rhythm of the music.
“Just saying what’s true.” Drift abruptly tugged on Perceptor’s hand, leaning toward something that caught his eyes. “I think I smell bread,” he said with a low moan of want. “And cinnamon.”
Perceptor chuckled. “Then let’s go find it.”
Because like Drift, he wanted to be wherever Drift was, because that was where happiness lay.
Right next to his beloved.
****
Characters: Drift, Perceptor, Original Character(s)
Universe: Flights of Fancy, Harpyformers
Rating: M
Enticements: Sexual Content, First Meetings, Friends to Lovers, Love at First Sight
Description: Perceptor’s spent so long among the humans, he’s almost forgotten how much he misses other harpies, until Drift wanders into Kaon, a pretty package of everything Perceptor never knew he wanted.
Perceptor woke to the smell of toasted bread and the sweet, tartness of jam. The bed they’d upgraded to creaked beneath him, and his left side was chillier than it ought to be. Where was Drift?
“Good morning, cupcake.” Lips brushed Perceptor’s forehead as his eyes fluttered open.
Drift leaned over him, a smile on his lips, a brightness in his eyes. “Do you know what today is?”
Perceptor rolled over to face him better. “Tuesday?” He fought off a yawn.
He’d stayed up much too late scribbling down a hypothesis and trying to work out the math. By the time he’d joined Drift in bed, Drift was fast asleep, though he’d rolled into Perceptor for warmth, making a cute little noise as he did so.
Drift laughed and sat on the edge of the bed, resting a tray in his lap. “Well, yeah. It is Tuesday. But that’s not what I meant.”
Perceptor pulled himself upright. “It’s not a holiday that I recall.”
He eyed the tray. A small vase with a bunch of white lilies rested in the center. A porcelain dish was carefully plated with toast and jam – Drift’s handmade blackberry jam no less. A glass of orange juice sat next to it. Perceptor would bet it was fresh-squeezed.
He prodded at his sleep-fogged brain to recall what Drift might have meant. “The Strawberry Festival is today,” he said. “I remember you wanted to attend.”
“Also yes.” Drift chuckled and set the tray on Perceptor’s lap, flipping out two legs on either side so it rested safely on the bed. “But still wrong.”
Perceptor touched the lacy cloth lining the tray. “It must be something important,” he murmured before he caught Drift’s gaze. “Something important for you and I.” He paused, thinking hard, and when it came to him, it was like a burst of light. “Oh! It has been one year since you were found outside the gate.”
Drift beamed. “And it only took you three tries.” He scooted over until he sat next to Perceptor, one talon scraping through the extra bowl of jam to bring it to his lips. “Though it’s hard to believe it’s been a full year.”
“Such a short time and yet so much has happened,” Perceptor murmured. “And you brought me breakfast in bed. Thank you, Drift.” He pressed a kiss to his partner’s cheek. “You are so sweet.”
“It’s nothing really. Just a little surprise because I wanted to.” Drift leaned his head on Perceptor’s shoulder. “I’m glad you found me.”
“As am I.” Perceptor nibbled on the bread, the sweet and tart flavors of the blackberry spilling over his tongue.
Affection rose in a hot wave throughout his body. He looked at Drift and felt such a throb of adoration he knew he could ignore it no longer. He knew the breadth of his emotions. He knew he had to share them.
He set down the bread. He took Drift’s hand and tangled their fingers together.
“I’d like to tell you something,” Perceptor said as he met Drift’s eyes with his own. “But I want you to understand that it is a gift freely given. You are under no obligation to return it. I simply want you to know.”
Drift looked down at their linked fingers, and then he looked up at Perceptor, his eyes wide and startled. “Perceptor--”
He cut Drift off with a finger to Drift’s lips. “Shh.” Perceptor cupped Drift’s face, and swept a thumb over his cheek. “I love you,” he said, because it was true, and he knew it with every beat of his core. Perhaps a part of him had loved Drift from the moment they met. It was why everything between them was always so easy.
“I love who you are, who I am with you, and I cherish every moment we spend together,” Perceptor continued, a thickness growing in his throat, to match the shimmer in Drift’s eyes. “And I want you to know that, not because you are obligated to respond, but because you deserve to know how I feel.”
Drift’s mouth opened and closed. His cheek heated under Perceptor’s palm. His fingers trembled, and his tongue swept over his lips. He looked like a rabbit caught in the eyes of a hawk, frozen with fear, knowing it should run, but uncertain of which direction it should go, for all ways seemed deadly and wrong.
Perceptor kissed him, for what else could he do in the face of that fear? He pressed his lips to Drift, sharing the flavor of the blackberries Drift had lovingly prepared for him. He kept the kiss gentle, chaste, with only the barest sweep of his tongue, before he drew back.
“I love you,” Perceptor repeated firmly, and then he withdrew, returning his attention to the tray in his lap. “And now I will enjoy this delicious breakfast you brought for me so that I have my energy for today. You do still want to attend the festival, yes?”
“I do,” Drift replied, his voice crackling. He stood up from the bed, turning away from Perceptor in a hurry. “I, um, need something to drink. I’ll be right back.”
He fled as Perceptor sipped at his orange juice – fresh squeezed as he suspected – and nibbled on the jam-laden bread. It was all quite good. Sweet, as only something made with love could be.
He was not disappointed Drift didn’t immediately reply. On the contrary, Perceptor suspected that would be the case. He’d seen the hurt in Drift’s eyes one too many times, the pain which made him occasionally flinch away, the topics of his past he avoided as though they were plague-ridden. There were scars on Drift’s core, scars which made love and affection seem like an impossible dream. Perhaps he wasn’t ready to hear it yet. Perhaps he wasn’t ready to trust it yet.
It had been a gift, and Perceptor never regretted giving those.
So he ate his breakfast and waited for his lover to return. They would have a good day today, Perceptor decided. He was sure of it.
The Strawberry Festival was one of Kaon’s biggest attractions. It drew in visitors from nearby citystates and was a great source of revenue for the university, the student associations, and programs which relied upon donations and earnings to continue. Not only was the strawberry theme central to Kaon’s history, but it also produced an opportunity for the student’s themselves to showcase their talents and all they’ve learned.
Stands were set up as students hawked their wares, from art to food to homemade trinkets to raffles. The main quad was decorated with streamers and multicolored lanterns, and bright ropes helped guide visitors to each area. Live music filled the air, and the scent of food – strawberry above all else but other flavors also – floated along with it. The walkways were packed with people, and no few of them gawked at the harpy duo in their midst.
Kaonites were used to seeing Perceptor and now Drift. But the visitors were not. Far too many cameras flashed for Perceptor’s comfort, but he bore it with dignity. If even one human could be convinced that Harpies were sapient and not monsters, he would endure. It was worth it. Besides, it was easier to endure, now that he had a partner beside him.
A quiet partner, to be fair. Drift seemed to be lost in thought ever since he returned to their room without the drink he’d claimed to need. His behavior had been tentative, but he’d come with Perceptor to the Festival eagerly enough. His enthusiasm returned in short spurts as he laid eyes on the Festival, and his feet tapped to the music as though he wanted to dance.
Sampling the available foods was a must. Everything had a strawberry theme of course, but the variety of ways to include the strawberry in assorted recipes was amazing.
Strawberry salads and vinaigrettes. Pies and cookies and pastries. Wines and juices. Chocolate-covered, caramel-covered. Frozen and iced. Dried and freezer-dried. It was used as a glaze, a jam, a filling, everything one could possibly think of.
Then came a booth featuring several different cultivars of strawberries, along with some attempts at cross-breeding with other species. Some of the results were grotesque, and didn’t look worth tasting. Others were intriguing, and Perceptor nibbled on more than a few odd berries. Drift purchased three potted versions available, and had Artemis hold them aside.
“For the garden,” he said, lips stained pink from his sampling, and his face carrying a blush to match.
Perceptor wanted to kiss him, taste strawberry on his lips and see how much sweeter it would be. He refrained, if only because he was so aware of the cameras and eyes watching them. And because Drift was still a little skittish in the wake of Perceptor’s confession.
“Whatever you want,” Perceptor replied, and gently wiped a bit of strawberry filling from the corner of Drift’s mouth.
More booths attracted their attention. He let Drift lead the way, following in his lover’s wake, taking careful note of the things to which Drift paid special attention. He could always use hints for what to get Drift as a gift.
Which meant, of course, he didn’t fail to notice Drift’s lingering gaze on the central stage and the musicians upon it. Or more specifically, the dancers who were enjoying the various styles of music.
“Do you want to dance?” Perceptor asked.
Drift looked, startled. “What?” He let go of the strawberry-themed blanket he was admiring.
Perceptor tilted his head toward the space cleared for the dance floor. “Will you dance with me?”
Drift looked around, a little wild. “Are we even allowed to?”
“Of course.” Perceptor smiled and offered a hand to his partner. “I know quite a few myself. Shall I lead?”
There was hesitation in the way Drift’s fingers slipped into his palm – not because Drift didn’t want to, but because he wasn’t sure he was allowed. Perceptor suspected it had to do with his upbringing, whoever it was who had worked so hard to stifle the artist within him.
“Don’t you always?” Drift replied with a hint of his usual cheeky humor.
Perceptor swung him gently onto the dance floor, in the midst of the human dancers, who made room for them. “Only because you let me.” He curled an arm around Drift’s waist and smiled when Drift knowledgeably placed his free hand on Perceptor’s shoulder.
“Because I want you to,” Drift replied, barely louder than a murmur, his eyes wide as he looked up at Perceptor.
“And that, sunshine, is why we work so well together.” Perceptor pulled Drift close, until they were pressed nearly belly to belly. “I know you have rhythm. Listen for it. I’ll do the rest. Trust me. It’s no different than the dance you do with your blade.”
Drift’s face flushed. “That’s not a dance though,” he said.
“You say that only because you’ve never had the pleasure of watching yourself move in the sunlight,” Perceptor murmured. He pressed their noses briefly together. “Now. Listen.”
He closed his eyes, focused on the music. He squeezed Drift’s hands, waiting for the proper beat, and then he took a step, moving into it. Drift moved with him, as Perceptor knew he would. The music was in Drift’s core, had been for the past fifteen minutes as they circled around the dance floor, Drift yearning but never saying so.
“See?” Perceptor said as they swayed and spun to the beat, matching the elegant waltz with all the other humans. “Your core knows what to do already.”
Drift’s hand trembled in his. He looked up at Perceptor with bright eyes. “They teach you this in Tyger Pax?”
“We learned many things,” Perceptor answered. He slid a step backward, and Drift matched him, without once looking down at his feet. “The pursuit of knowledge has always been a core tenet of Tyger Pax, no matter how inconsequential it might seem.”
“Except for studying humans apparently.”
Perceptor inclined his head. “Except for that. There are some dangers not worth pursuing, I suppose. But dance is harmless.” He flexed his fingers against Drift’s back, pulling him into a slow spin. “Not to mention flirtatious.”
Drift’s lips twitched toward a smile. “I do feel a little seduced.”
“As well you should.”
They nearly bumped a human couple, and apologies were quickly offered, but the humans didn’t mind. Perceptor was distantly aware of the flash of cameras, and perhaps someone out there was recording them, but it didn’t matter. He pretended it was only he and Drift on the dance floor, enjoying the moment.
The music swelled into a faster beat, building to a crescendo. Drift followed him with ease, as though his feet knew the steps already. He’d always been a quick learner. The drums seemed to beat in tune with the rapid pulse of Perceptor’s core.
Or perhaps that was the way the world narrowed around him. Because while he was peripherally aware of other dancers, he stared into Drift’s eyes and only knew Drift and the music, the grass beneath his talons, the sweet scent of strawberries in the warm air, the press of their bodies, so close. Perhaps, even, he could feel Drift’s core beating against his chest.
Loving him was the easiest part.
A step to the right, two to the left, forward, back, spin, spin, and with a chiming clang of the cymbal, Perceptor tipped Drift into a dip, feathers draped across the ground in a beautiful spill of grays and white, Drift looking up at him with bright brown eyes, like polished amber. His tongue swept across his lips.
“I love you,” Drift said, nearly lost to the applause.
Perceptor pulled Drift upright. “What?” he asked, dumbly. Had he heard what Drift said, or what he’d hoped his partner would say?
“I love you,” Drift repeated and his eyes shimmered. “And I mean it. Not because I think I owe it to you, but because it’s true. It’s been true for a while, I was just afraid to say it, because that would mean admitting it was real, and everything real I’ve ever wanted I wasn’t allowed to keep.”
Perceptor’s mouth went dry. He thought he ought to say something, but words fluttered away from his tongue.
“So I love you,” Drift said, again, for the third time, sounding even more certain than the first two times. “And, uh, I guess I just wanted you to know that.”
Perceptor swallowed over a lump in his throat. “Just when I think you can’t amaze me more,” he murmured. “I love you, too, and if I can’t kiss you right now, I think my core might explode.”
Drift chuckled and rose up on his tarsals, sealing his mouth over Perceptor’s in a hot and hard kiss. Their bodies pressed together, heat to heat, and Perceptor was even more certain this time he could feel the rapid fluttering of Drift’s core.
Something flashed in the corner of his eye.
Perceptor ended the kiss with a nip to Drift’s lips and turned to acknowledge it. He was not at all surprised to find Ms. Jessica a few paces away, a camera in hand and her newest suitor doggedly trailing after her, laden with bags and boxes of her purchases.
“I hope you don’t mind,” Ms. Jessica said, her cheeks flushed with excitement. She held up her camera, giving it a wiggle. “But I swear that was the cutest thing I’ve seen all year.”
Perceptor bit back a sigh.
Drift pressed against him, tucking his head under Perceptor’s chin. “That depends,” he said lightly. “Are you going to give us a copy?”
Perceptor slid his arms around his lover and chuckled. “Yes. A framed one even,” he added.
Dr. Jessica’s eyes lit up. “Of course! Anything you want.” She scuttled closer, her sandals flipflopping against her heels. “I have to ask, how did you learn to dance like that?”
Perceptor offered her a polite smile. “I’m happy to tell you, but perhaps another time. Drift and I are on a date right now.”
“Oh my goodness. You’re right! How rude of me.” A flush stained Ms. Jessica’s cheeks beneath her freckles. She stepped back closer to her own date. “I am, too. But Francis is at least used to me running off on my own. Aren’t you, dear?”
Francis gave her the most indulgent smile. “You are a bundle of enthusiasm and energy that I find irresistibly delightful.”
Ms. Jessica replied with a quite girlish giggle. “Oh, you.” She gave them a playful slap to the shoulder. “You’re such a charmer.”
Drift leaned up toward Perceptor’s ear. “Please tell me we’re not that ridiculous in public.”
Perceptor laughed. “Come now. I think it’s cute,” he teased as Ms. Jessica giggled again and wound her elbow through her date’s, tugging them along.
“Let’s go, Francis. We shouldn’t disturb the lovebirds anymore.” She winked at Perceptor. “Get it? Lovebirds?”
“Oh, Adaptus.” Drift buried a snorting laugh in Perceptor’s throat.
Perceptor’s lips twitched. He smiled, too.
They watched Ms. Jessica drag her date away. Around them, the music started up again, a faster beat this time, something meant to wriggle, too. This was not really Perceptor’s forte.
“Shall we return to the festival, cupcake?” Perceptor asked as he tangled his fingers with Drift’s.
He received an affectionate squeeze in return. “As long as I’m with you, I’m happy doing anything.”
“Now who’s the one being sappy?” Perceptor teased. He towed Drift off the dance floor, carefully avoiding the humans twisting and spinning and gyrating to the rapid rhythm of the music.
“Just saying what’s true.” Drift abruptly tugged on Perceptor’s hand, leaning toward something that caught his eyes. “I think I smell bread,” he said with a low moan of want. “And cinnamon.”
Perceptor chuckled. “Then let’s go find it.”
Because like Drift, he wanted to be wherever Drift was, because that was where happiness lay.
Right next to his beloved.
