Orange tints peer through the treelines, blinding two grounded avians as they head back to their homes.  Both remain quiet as they venture through the grassy area, sounds of a river accompanying them on their path.  One of the two birds is a Torchic, dressed up with a yellow mask and cape.  The fabric flows as she leads the way home, leaving a Piplup with a fancy gold mask to follow behind.  As a castle comes into view from the distant treeline, the Piplup clears her throat, grabbing the attention of the other.  
        “Yeah?”  The Torchic quickly answers.  There’s a bit of a long stare, the orange bird growing slightly uncomfortable as they glance into each other’s eyes.  “What is it?”
        Inching forward, the penguin pulls her flippers back, hiding them as she grows closer.  “Chic, you know well I am not shy about being honest and to the point.  My vocabulary is extensive and I try never to repeat myself too often.  And yet…”  The Piplup falls silent, eyes dropping away from Chic’s gaze.
        “I don’t…I don’t get it?”  She’s rightfully confused.  “Why are you acting so weird?”  The masked chicken questions.
        There’s a small step from the penguin as she continues to look away.  She takes her mask off, revealing her shy expression as it drops.  “Heh, well.  Apologies in advance…”  Another step brings her in close quarters of the Torchic, both eyes sharing a lock.  
        A sudden lunge forward latches their beaks together, flippers reaching up to hold the other fire bird’s face as they connect.  There’s lights on in the Torchic’s eyes, the wide, open look stretching as far as it can go as she’s suddenly caught in a kiss.  Despite the leap in expression, she doesn’t respond with anything more than a tremble.  The Piplup is free to mesh with her beak, tongue pouring over into the other more toasty entry.  Steam parts between their openings as wet meets warm.  Fluttering hearts generate red tints in both cheeks as the kiss slowly ends, beaks now separating with a bit of drool holding both parties together.
        “Wa-Wah-Waddle?”  Chic’s eyes remain spread, still stunned by the advancement.  Her beak hangs open as she speaks, staring off above the Piplup’s head.
        Those flippers remain on Chic’s cheeks, pushing them closer together.  “That thought has been plaguing me for some time now…”  Her voice gets lower with each word, the Piplup staring into the empty gaze of the Torchic.  A frown slowly takes the penguin’s beak, feeling as if she just betrayed her friend beyond recovery now.  “I-I don’t know what overcame me, please forgi-”
        Before she can finish, Chic leans in, pushing her beak back into Waddle’s.  It silences the Piplup, both of their eyes now connecting.  In that brief time, they both lower their eyelids and start clacking beaks around.  A few muffled sounds roam around their closed beaks as the Torchic raises her wings to rest them on the flippers holding her.  They both wrestle inside, tongue reaching out to meet.  The first few clashes are playful and simple connections, but soon after, the penguin tries to dominate with hers.  It’s met with fierce resistance, lolling around in circles before getting pinned down. 
        As they fight inside the closed cavern of their mouths, both become lightheaded, falling off to the side while wrapped up in each other.  They thud on the grass, and grow closer, bodies now pushed together as those flippers roam around the feathery orange body.  Chic wraps both wings around her friend’s neck now, just wanting to get deeper in the kiss, but a sudden revelation makes Chic jut her head back, abruptly ending their oral battle.  Chic looks around frantically, slobber slipping from her beak as they remain partly bridged with it.  She rubs her beak with a wing as she looks around. 
        “Is something the matter?”  Waddle asks, head turning around with her.  
        “W-We’re d-doing this in the open!”  Chic shouts in a soft voice.
        Less concerned than her, the Piplup leans in and holds the Torchic in a hug.  “Shh, it’s okay.  We can continue this in my room…if you desire.”  
        Frowning as she leans her chin past Waddle’s shoulder, her head shakes up and down.  “I-I do.”
        After a brief trip back, the two end up in a pink coated room.  Princess Waddle locks both entries to it, turning back to see a nervous Torchic shake in place on the comfy bed.  The Piplup takes a seat beside her, stretching a flipper over to push it into Chic’s wing.  It sends a jolt up the fire chicken’s body and she shifts her eyes to the side, not moving her head at all.
        “Chic…” The Piplup mutters, leaning in closer with her head.  Shifting her body away, the Torchic looks to the opposite side now.  “Bothered by something?”  The Piplup’s advances pause, eyes glued to the other bird.
        Shaking her head up and down gently, Chic glances over her shoulder, looking at Waddle.  “I-We…is this wrong?  Don’t you and Dennis have something going on? I-I don’t want to get in the way of it…”  She softly asks, voice sounding ready to sob.
        Reassuring the Torchic, Waddle lifts her flipper up and presses it into Chic’s side, running it through the feathers and cupping the wing.  “It’s nothing yet, so fret not.”  Her words are gentle, body scooting in closer.  “I also wish to indulge these feelings I have for you while we can. It’s selfish, but I believe you also share my desire.”  Their bodies connect through their extended arms.  
        Chic turns more to Waddle, a tear hidden beneath her mask.  “I…see…”  She’s still a bit reluctant.  “I didn’t know I wanted this until you kissed me.  But I do want to be with you so badly.  Knowing it won’t work out though…”  She pauses, bringing her other wing up to wipe under her mask.  “...It hurts a bit already.”
        The Piplup is now much closer, leaning on her friend as she uses her flipper to stroke along her side.  “Shh, let’s just enjoy each other’s company for a night.  It might be our only chance to.”  Waddle’s head rests along Chic’s side.  
The Torchic mirrors her soon after and drops her head along the side.  “That was my first kiss.  I never really thought about stuff like that before, didn’t really have interest.  It felt right with you though, I just wanted more.”  She says slowly in mumbles.
As she speaks, Waddle’s flipper slides around the Torchic, reaching for the cape as it slinks around Chic’s body.  The other flipper meets in the middle and helps undo the accessory, the orange chicken not fighting it at all as she’s undressed.  With their bodies so close again and heads resting on each other, their hearts thump rapidly, audible to the two birds as everything else goes silent.   The cape soon falls off Chic, a short shiver coming from her as Waddle tugs her even closer now.  The penguin holds her from behind, beak now intruding on the mask and helping it off.  
Chic shuts her eyes, feeling as if she’s in a fever dream.  This is all too good to her for this to be real.  “Waddle…”  She softly speaks.
With a beakful of the mask, she responds.  “Chic…”  Her tongue prodding out to slightly drag along her head as the beak tugs the mask off.
Both items drop to the bed, Waddle pushing them off and placing her flippers under the chicken’s wings.  The beak intrudes on Chic’s face again, rubbing along her cheek and giving it a more thoughtful lick this time.  Flippers soon drop down, feeling lower around the Torchic’s body until a tremble causes both of her legs to curl up.  It defends her more sensitive area, crossing over each other as the Piplup tries exploring it.  Small whimpers come from the chicken, her eyelids squeezing down now.
“I-I’m not comfortable!”  Chic admits, tilting her head down.
Not wanting to ruin the experience, Waddle raises her arms and lets one settle on the Torchic’s belly.  The other rises up and pushes into her face, tilting it enough so they can be beak to beak again.  She treads familiar ground, dipping in to force some more oral action.  Chic submissively opens up, greeting with Waddle’s much wetter tongue.  Steam generates as they connect, a twirl of their oral muscle ensues until their beaks hide both between them.  
The two continue on, several minutes of simple oral contact until the Piplup gets more daring.  She forces her body onto Chic, weighing her down and shoving that beak as close as it can get.  Her tongue goes further in, pushing beyond the Torchic’s reach as it tickles her throat.  Chic makes a slight cough, wings reaching up to push the Piplup back some.  Even with the intentions of keeping her away, a sudden urge to drag her in brings their bodies closer again.  They both keep twisting around until they face each other, front to front much like their first one.  Waddle keeps leverage in it, pushing onto the Torchic and laying her into the bed, right on the pillow.  Their soft bodies rub together, Chic’s legs still keeping her groin secure even as the Piplup rests on her.
Another minute passes with no words between them while they share the taste of their tongues.  Chic grows more relaxed with every passing second, her legs drift apart and leave her vulnerable.  Waddle gently pushes her hips down, letting their lower halves connect.  With some adjusting, the two find each other's vents and they mix.  The moment there’s any bit of pressure on it, Chic pulls her head away, breaking the kiss after many minutes of keeping together.   A louder sound comes from the Torchic, her voice picking up as the penguin gently humps her into the sheets.  
“Shhh…”  Waddle reminds her that even though they are in her room, there’s always someone walking around the castle areas.  The princess opens her eyes, looking down on the nervous Torchic below.  A bit of their drool hangs down, snapping in the next few seconds to rest along Chic’s face instead.  Waddle notices her eyes are still shut during the intermission, pausing the rubs as she stares back.  “Chic…please show me those eyes.  “I wish to…gaze into them.”  
Not immediately responding, she tilts her head away, bringing a wing up to cover them up.  They open after, peeking around the yellow feathers as her blush overtakes those orange cheeks.  “J-Just…do whatever, I don’t think I can…”  Her voice is just as shy.
Using a flipper, Waddle lifts the wing away, Chic turning a bit to not make full eye to eye contact.  “Aww, you’re adorable like this.”  She then rubs along her cheek, pushing it around.
“Sh-Shut up!”  The wing quickly pulls back to cover her face.
A small chuckle vibrates from Waddle, her head dipping down to plant a peck on Chic’s cheek.  Both flippers push to the Torchic’s side, keeping her locked between them as the penguin leads down with another smooch.  She trails them along Chic’s front, peppering her small body until reaching the more sensitive bits below.  Her legs close up again, but Waddle is wedged between them now, her head keeping them at bay as she tries pushing back against the physical resistance.  Chic’s body may be fighting back, but the Piplup can tell she wants this. 
The flippers pull them apart, her beak digging right into the Torchic’s slit.  A long groan comes from the orange bird, her warm insides tense as the oral muscle digs into it.  Chic’s walls squeeze, holding onto the curious tongue with each pulse of her heart.  Even with the resistance, Waddle continues down until her beak keeps her from getting further.  She rolls her licker around, tasting the chicken's heated path.  Small squeals escape Chic’s beak from above, her legs wanting to instinctively kick the Piplup away.  She endures the treatment, doing her best to let Waddle journey around the virgin vagina.  
Incredibly sensitive to every touch, Chic uses her wings to push on her friend’s head.  It tries to keep her away, the weak pushes doing nothing more than holding the penguin steady.  Waddle continues to roll her tongue around, tasting every bit of juice the nervous Torchic produces.  The audible wet tongue slaps inside, noise only slightly lower than the ones Chic makes from each contact of it.  For minutes, the penguin stays down on her, only pulling back for some quick pants.  Her damp breath steams up from the burning, spread entrance.  
Waddle gazes up to see a wing now over Chic’s head like she has a fever.  While remaining idle, Waddle pushes a flipper into the snacked on hole and twirls it around the vent.  “You are so lovely, Chic…”  She compliments her, enjoying the visuals of the normally defensive bird relaxing for a change.
“Uggghh…”  She responds, twisting her head around.  “J-Just continue…I feel something…”  Chic didn’t know how to describe it, not only being a virgin but never even bothering with masturbation before.  “A-And stop complimenting me!”
An urge to push her buttons fills Waddle, but she merely chuckles and continues with eating her out.  With a dip of the beak and a push of her tongue, the Piplup is face first into the chicken’s entrance.  The lazy moans resume, Chic loosening up much more this time as she takes deep breaths.  It becomes much more straightforward when the Torchic grows comfortable with sharing her body.  Occasional talon curls tell Waddle she is onto something, finding the sweet spot inside her friend and abusing it with several prods of the tongue. 
        Each one elevates Chic’s body, trying to thrust it up into the pokes as she feels some sort of release nearing.  Waddle’s flippers scoop the chicken by the hips and pick her lower half up to make sure she’s as deep as she can get now.  Chic’s moans echo the room, now much louder as her ability to contain them fade.  Neither of them seem to care about how noisy they are at this point.  
In the last few moments before the Torchic’s climax, her legs squeeze together, twitching as it traps the penguin below.  She’s forced to endure the next moments of the warm tunnel, juices drenching her tongue.  It’s no bother to her though, the princess coiling her tongue back to slurp up every bit of taste from her friend.  With her heart rushing through the experience, Chic gasps for air long after she finishes.  Her legs fall off to the side, spreading once more as Waddle slowly pulls back.  The penguin’s tongue hides between her beak, a slight bit of their mixed fluids stringing along the way.  It snaps as she crawls forward and presses her face into Chic’s upper body, leaving it under her head.
Resting together, they both remain silent minus the shared heart thumps.  Chic could have easily slept there if a sudden nudge from Waddle didn’t keep her up.  The Torchic opens her eyes to spot a pair reflecting back at her.  Chic couldn’t believe she just did that.  
“Enjoy yourself?”  The Piplup pokes at, eager to know.
Still unwilling to make contact with her sightline, the chicken glances away, cheeks red under the orange feather.  “It was something…”  Her voice barely pushes out.  “Maybe just not used to it, but it was…”  Chic pauses, trying to turn herself to face Waddle now.  “It was…more about spending time with you I liked.”
A flipper reaches up to hold Chic by the cheek, rubbing it over as the penguin’s beak inches in.  “Chic…”
Mirroring her, Chic’s wing pushes up on Waddle’s face.  “Wads…”
Hearing the nickname makes her blood rush, the princess clacking her beak on the Torchic’s without turning it into a kiss.  The two of them nuzzle for several minutes, their time together cutting short as both slumber in each other’s embrace.