# Revenge Is A Dish Best Served In A Way That Makes Everyone Around You Incredibly Uncomfortable Chapter 2

Chapter 2: The Lovers
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Weeks pass, and the band feels like it's on the verge of falling apart. Trish's unwillingness to practice with me had grown into a cold shoulder and further into a glacial rift. A few scattered conversations with Reed confirmed my fears - she told me the truth and I didn't trust her, electing to toss her into oncoming fire to make it easier for myself. Eventually, I stopped trying to reconnect with her. It was impossible to enjoy playing while she's doing this, and if she wants to talk to me, she'll do it herself.
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Falling away from the band ended up bringing me closer to Naser. While we didn't have any classes together - which I'm regretting - we shared every lunch together now, and there was easy access to his motivation and encouragement after school, seeing as we lived together. Studying pulled my grades up and playing for my little audience boosted my confidence, and the lingering dread that followed me since the beginning of the year had all but vanished. I even felt less resentful towards my parents.
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The calendar just flipped to April, and it’s fourth period. Anon seems to have mostly recovered from the auditorium incident. While it wasn't surprising to see him vanish those first few days after, what was surprising was Naomi vanishing with him. It almost sounded like she actually gave a shit about him, but hey, if I can change like I did, then maybe she can too.
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Before class starts properly, an announcement comes in from over the speakers, and Principal Spears’ voice booms across the room.
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“ALRIGHT EVERYONE LISTEN UP! NEXT MONTH! WILL BE WHAT IS POSSIBLY THE HIGHLIGHT OF YOUR TIME HERE AT VOLCANO HIGH! PROM! THAT’S RIGHT I SAID IT! TOMORROW WE WILL BE SELLING FUCKING TICKETS TO PROM! SO GET THOSE FORMAL FUCKING OUTFITS READY!"
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Prom, huh? Don’t think I’ll bother, it’s not like I have anyone to go with. Except… no, that’s retarded. Right? Yeah, totally retarded. Isn’t that kind of the point, though? Well, the least I can do is ask.
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In between classes, I meet up with Naser in the hallways. He's got his head in his locker, so I sneak up behind him.
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"So…" I call expectedly. He tenses and yanks his head out of the locker.
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"Hey, Fang! Haha, what's up?" I give him a smug look but don't respond. "So uh, I was, you know... thinking…" It's alright, take your time. This is as weird for me as it is for you. "Well.. you see, uh…" Alright, come on, hurry it up.
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Before Naser can string a coherent thought together, someone calls out to us. We turn and see a pair of triceratops girls - one blue and one yellow - looking at us with feigned disinterest.
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"So," the blue one starts, her valley girl accent immediately apparent and very annoying. I hope this conversation doesn't last long. "Are you two like, going to prom?"
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Well, that's a good question. "I don't know, are we, Naser?" I ask him directly.
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"Uhh." Realizing who he's talking to, he shifts gears into that popular guy mode I rarely see anymore. "Pfft, yeah, of course."
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"Yeah, but like," the yellow one says. "Going, going to prom? Like, together and stuff?" The question catches him off guard, but he recovers quickly.
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"Yeah, totally. Right, Fang?" My smugness evaporates. Shit, spotlight on me!
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"Yup, yeah, sure are." I sputter, grinning awkwardly.
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"Ok, yeah, but like," the blue one says again. Holy fuck, do these people know how to talk without saying 'like'? "Are you really going together? Like, going, going together?"
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Naser and I glance at each other. "What?" we say in unison. They both groan obnoxiously.
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"Like, are you serious about it?" the yellow one asks. "We don't want to like, waste our votes for prom royalty." Prom royalty, holy fuck! I hadn't even thought of that. Devilish ideas surface immediately, but I force them down for the moment to pay attention.
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"Yeah, we are," I reply.
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"Ok but, like, how do we know?" the blue one asks.
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"The fuck do you want, for us to prove it?" They look at each other like they were speaking telepathically, or through a hivemind or some other weird bullshit. Nodding, they turn back to us.
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"Kiss," they both say. Oh, for fuck’s sake.
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"Whoa- I, uh- like, we're- you know…" Naser stammers. You know what, fuck this.
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"Naser," I say. Before he can fully react, I reach up and grab the sides of his face, pulling him towards me, then close my eyes and plant my lips on his.
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A jolt, reassuring and exciting. A fuzz, soft and comforting. A swell, familiar and pleasant. The world is quiet, and I'm exactly sure why…
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I pull away, dropping my hands from his face and turning towards the twin triceratopses. "How's that for serious?" I challenge. They nod slowly, their eyes popping almost as much as Naser's.
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"C-cool…" the yellow one mumbles. They walk away without another word. At least that's over.
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"Fang-"
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"We're even now," I say, interrupting Naser. He chuckles nervously.
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"I guess we're going to prom, then?"
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"Ask me properly, dweeb."
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"Alright, alright. Would you like to go to prom with me, Fang?"
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"Hmm, I dunno. I guess, if I'm not busy."
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"Right, of course. Wouldn't want to interrupt your busy schedule." We share a laugh, then get to our next class. I wonder if Anon asked Naomi to prom yet…
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Fifth and lunch pass, and I arrive at sixth period. Jingo's lax approach to teaching and classwork makes moving across the classroom easy, and I plop down into the free seat next to Anon.
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"Wha- Fang! Um… hi?" he says, terrified.
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"Relax, I'm not here to bust your balls. You asked Naomi to prom?"
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"Prom? Oh, I, uh…" He trails off, not exactly inspiring confidence.
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"You know she's not going to ask you, right? And if you don't ask her, you're probably not going to go at all?" He blankly stares at me, trying to work through this complex formula. "Ask her, you fucking retard. Right now."
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"O- okay, yeah, of course." He pulls out his phone and starts tapping out a message. "Uh, why are you… helping me?"
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"Because, you wouldn't have figured it out on your own, as is plainly obvious." Also, because I need Naomi to be at prom to steal prom queen from her.
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"I mean, why do you want me there? Are you not going?"
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"I am going. And while I do kind of hate you, Naomi is going to put you through utter hell if you don't go, and not even you deserve that, especially after that social tarring and feathering you got."
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“Yeah, thanks…” He sighs and leans onto the desk, resting his chin on his arms. “God, what do I even say to you?” he mumbles under his breath. He still does that?
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“Well, ‘sorry’ would be a good start.” He bolts upright at me reading his thoughts.
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“Shit- I mean, uh… fuck.” He clenches his fists and readies himself. I swear it’s like pulling teeth with these boys. Then again, I’m not that much better, am I?
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“I’m sorry. I’ve been sorry every day, just didn’t want to say it. Figured it wouldn’t matter or that it would rock the boat, or whatever the fuck. I’m a piece of shit who got wrapped up in a bunch of shit I barely understand, all because I couldn’t control myself. I’m sorry.”
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“Good, and now you know what to do when you piss off Naomi.” He smiles at that.
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“I’ll try not to do that. By the way, are you going to prom with Naser?” I nod. “Don’t you think that’s a bit… much?”
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“Nah, it’ll be fine. Might as well ride this out to the end of the year, see if any more dumb shit happens.”
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“So, uh, do you… forgive me?”
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“Hah, no. Ask me again in five years.” Mission accomplished, I return to my seat on the other side of the room.
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I gaze into the mirror, my reflection gazing back at me. I’m really going through with this, aren’t I? A prom date with my own brother, gunning for prom royalty, flaunting our willingness to commit to the joke to everyone there. It… is a joke, right? Of course it is, we’re siblings, we can’t be dating. Not for real, anyway.
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I look back at the pair of outfits laid out on my bed. On the left is a grey and white dress shirt and shorts combo - gender neutral formal wear I had shipped in a few weeks ago. On the right is a long pale blue dress with a complementary pair of white lilies - something mom had bought for me months ago.
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Ordinarily this would be a snap decision - the one on the left, every time, especially with how close the time to leave is. For some reason, I just can’t figure it out. I scoffed at that dress every single time I had seen it, except for today. Am I really going to wear that?
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I pick them both up by their hangers and turn back to the mirror, holding one in front of me and then the other back and forth a few times. This is getting me nowhere, I need to make up my mind and actually get ready. Footfalls go up the stairs and down the hallway outside of my door.
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“Naser?” I call out.
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“Yeah?” he responds.
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“Get in here, I need your help with something.” I turn to him as he comes in, holding each dress to one side. “Which of these should I wear?” His eyes shift back and forth between them a few times, but he says nothing. I hold each one in front of me for a few seconds to help him along.
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“Uh…” He stares intently, then recoils and blushes. “I-I-I… they both look good…” he stammers, glancing around the room.
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“Yeah, I know they both look good. I can’t wear both, so help me pick one.”
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“Oh, well… I, uh, like the dress... plus it matches with the suit I have.” Hmm. Yeah, I guess it does. “And mom would really like it if you wore it.” Very true…
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“Alright, dress it is, thank you,” I decide, tossing it onto the bed and delegating the dress shirt to the closet once again. Naser leaves the room and I look back at the dress.
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Well, here goes nothing. My tight, torn, all black outfit is quickly exchanged for a flowing, immaculate, pale blue dress that just comes over my breasts and under my wings. A pair of heels that I’m going to need to get used to quickly, and a pair of white lilies - one on my midsection and another on my crest - and… that wasn’t so bad. I look myself over in the mirror. Doesn’t look so bad either…
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Orange eyeshadow, purple highlights, mascara, hair brush, hair spray and… holy shit, I look good. I mean, of course I do, but damn. How much time do I have left?
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“Fang, you done? We should leave soon,” Naser calls from beyond the door. Guess that answers that. I open the door and present myself.
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“Yeah, let’s go,” I respond. Naser blinks a couple times and his blush returns.
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“Uh… right, yes, let’s go, yeah.”
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“And maybe consider containing yourself around your sibling, hmm?”
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“What? I was- nevermind, let’s just go.” Naser takes the lead and we head downstairs. Before I get to the bottom, I hear Mom gasp with excitement.
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“Oh, I just knew that dress would look perfect on you,” she cheers. “You both look so good, those others at school don’t know what they’re missing!”
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“Yeah, thanks. Anyways, we should get going,” Naser says as he moves for the door.
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“Not before I get some pictures of this, that is!” She begins frantically searching around and finds a bulky polaroid camera. “Together, now!” She motions us together, and-
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FUCK, that’s bright! I blink away the spots in my vision, cursing Naser’s foresight to bring aviators. Another flash. I sense a pair of fingers poking out over the top of my head. Wait for it. I elbow Naser in the side right as Mom’s finger comes down, and he yelps, reflexively clutching his side as the flash strikes.
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“Oh, would you two quit! I need just a couple more!” A ‘couple’ turned into half a dozen before Naser convinced her to let us go.
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“Behave yourselves, you two. Wild stuff can happen even if you don’t have dates,” Dad speaks up from his recliner. We wave and close the door behind us, then climb into the NasCar.
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“Do you… think they know?” Naser asks as he starts the car.
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“Hell no. Who would have the balls to show dad that video, or even bring it up?” We chuckle as the car pulls out of the driveway, and off to prom we go.
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We finally get inside of the gymnasium where prom is hosted. It’s bustling with students and music, and nerdy little Chinese lanterns are strung up from wall to wall.
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“How much you wanna bet Naomi’s dress is looking particularly Oriental tonight?” I ask Naser.
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“Not happening. I’ve lost enough money from your ‘bets’ to know better. Let’s grab some food, I’m sure they’ve got some great stuff.”
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“I’m gonna go grab a table, get me whatever looks like barbeque.” I settle down at a free table and Naser eventually returns with an armful of plates stacked with all sorts of delicacies, and one in particular that was piled high with barbeque. I manage to keep globs of food off of my dress as I violently dig in, while Naser approaches his tiny sandwiches, bits of sushi and whatever the hell else with more elegance.
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Plate empty, I throw my head back and go limp, groaning with ecstasy. “Ffffffuuuuuuck…” Today’s already been worth it, but I really wouldn’t mind if a few other things went my way.
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“Oh, so you two did make it!” Naomi’s bubbly voice is unmistakable, and I reluctantly lift my head back up to her. What do you know, her dress matches the decorations; red and Oriental. It also looks like it’s been shrink-wrapped to her, and I can see a distressingly large amount of her thigh with nothing to suggest she’s wearing anything underneath it.
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“Yep, we sure did,” Naser grumbles.
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“Well, I won’t bother you two, but I do have one little favor to ask. This is supposed to be a special night for Anon and I, so if it’s not too much to ask, could the two of you… well, act like siblings, and not lovers? It’s… concerning.”
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“Naomi,” I respond. “Don’t you worry one bit. Naser and I will be on our best behaviors.”
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“Ah, wonderful! I knew you’d understand, thank you.” She walks off into the crowd, hopefully leaving us alone for the rest of the night.
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“Heh, funny,” Naser says. “Used to be me that had to do the talking around Naomi cause you could barely speak. Now she just pisses me off.”
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“Yup. Surprised Anon actually showed up, Figured he would’ve tried to weasel out of it. Think she actually gives a shit about him, or is she just using him for some retarded shit?”
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“Who cares? They’re both bastards.” Alright, fair enough, I guess. I take a moment to absorb the atmosphere. Some half-way decent music is playing and the dance floor is a shimmering mass of colorful faces and outfits, all doing their own things. I look over at Naser.
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“So. Want a dance?”
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“In that dress? That’s asking for a wardrobe malfunction.” I look behind me, at the dress that trails a good foot behind the rest of me. Okay, yeah, don’t need to make those ‘show up to school in my underwear’ nightmares a reality. Things are already weird enough as they are.
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“Alright, fine, but that excuse won’t work for the slow dance. Also, go get me seconds, since you want to sit around so badly.”
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We eat another round of food and relax for a while. The music changes to something much slower and I stand up from my chair, stretching my legs and flexing my wings. Before I can ask, Naser gets up and takes my hand.
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“Let’s go turn some heads,” he says. With pleasure. We hit the dance floor and navigate into a clear spot just off from dead center. While I’m sure Naomi and Anon are very close, I’ve got someone a bit more important to give my attention to. Naser turns to face me, a blush betraying his confidence.
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He places a hand on my hip, I place one on his shoulder, and our free hands intertwine. One step to the left, one to the right, back and forth. Throw in a twirl here and there. I thought this would’ve been kind of dumb, but the simplicity of it is what makes it enjoyable. All the focus I would be putting into footwork in any other dance allows me to take in the scene. I get to look into my partner’s eyes, and… um…
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Almost forgot where I was for a second there. Well, at least I’m not the only one blushing now.
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“Quite a few eyes on us,” Naser whispers.
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“So?” I whisper back.
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“I… nothing.”
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“Don’t you worry, horndog, I’ve got something in mind for them... if everything goes right. Consider that your warning.” He chuckles and pulls me a little closer. “Watch your step. I have heels; those presidential yeezys won’t stand a chance.”
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I barely notice a good half-dozen songs going by, each one bringing us closer together, bit by bit, toes avoiding steps by increasingly smaller distances. Disappointingly, the music fades, leaving us practically touching and with nothing to dance to.
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Principal Spears walks onto the stage with a mic in hand and speaks in a pleasant tone of voice for once.
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“Alright everyone. Before we end tonight’s prom, we have one last thing to take care of. Which is…” The principal pulls a tiny gold sheaf envelope from his lapel and holds it up for the audience to gawk at. “... to announce prom King and Queen.” Now or nothing.
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A few pairs of students shuffle around as something muscles through them. No doubt it’s the prospective queen dragging his equally prospective king around. I tug on Naser’s hand and we traverse the floor, heading closer to the stage. There’s an outbreak of murmurs across the student body; they seem as unsure as I am.
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"A drum roll, please." I spot Reed poking his head out of the curtains, pressing a button on a block in his hands. A mediocre recording of the drumline plays over the speakers as Spears clears his throat and tears open the envelope.
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"And your winners. For the one Mil. Twenty-twenty class. Aaaaaare….” He double takes at the small piece of paper in his hands. “Naser, aaaaaand… Fang!” Despite his confusion, he tosses the paper over his shoulder and yanks out the crowns from a pocket inside his jacket. I pull Naser along and we clamber onto the stage, the rest of the class trapped in a mixture of gasping, gawking, and exclaiming, with a few cheers thrown in. Spears hands Naser a crown and me a tiara, and we affix them to our heads. At least, I do - Naser’s crest isn’t exactly suitable for non-custom headwear.
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We turn to face the crowd. There’s a wide range of emotion on display, including one very pissed off parasaurolophus.
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“Thank you, thank you, everyone,” I yell to the crowd. “While I don’t have a speech prepared, I do have something I think you’ll remember.” Naser takes a step towards me, placing one hand on my lower back and taking one of mine with the other. He leans forward and I bend backwards, grabbing his shoulder for balance. Our lips meet and we kiss long and deep in front of the graduating class.
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Eat your fucking heart out, Naomi.
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Only a few seconds later, he pulls away, and we return our attention to the crowd. They’re actually clapping. Nervously, but clapping nonetheless, with a few clusters of students cheering and whistling. We give them one last wave and exit the stage, returning to the table that we were at earlier. As I hit the chair, all the tension from the night leaves me, and I can’t help but giggle.
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“Holy shit, Naser. That couldn’t have gone any better.”
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“You’re telling me. I thought we were going to get booed off the stage.” We descend into a fit of laughter at just how ridiculous this semester has been. How the hell am I going to tell this story? Am I even going to tell anyone? Would be a waste if I didn’t.
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While we recover, students start to file out now that prom is officially over. No doubt a few of them are going to afterparties and other, more intense celebrations. One last mirthful sigh, and I shift in my chair, readying myself to leave. Before I can stand up, a pair of loud, angry heel clicks approaches from the side. Naomi stands over us, no pretense of civility remaining.
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“Why?!” she demands, stomping her foot. “Why did you do this? This was supposed to be our special night, not yours!” She points a thumb at herself. “Do you know how hard I’ve been working for this? How much effort I had to put in to pull Anon out of the mud, just to make him presentable? How much more I had to do to actually make him palatable for prom king? And you two…” She thrusts a finger at us, her voice bordering on a screech. “... incestuous freakshows just swoop in and take it!”
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Towering over most of the other students, Principal Spears perks up at Naomi’s outburst, and softly makes his way within earshot.
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“How on earth did anyone even vote for you? Is everyone here fucking crazy? Even after embarrassing my own boyfriend in front of the entire goddamn senior class, they didn’t spare us a single grain of sympathy, more focused on the circus act you two were putting on. What do your friends think? What would your parents think? Do you even care?”
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“Miss Hunter,” Spears says, clearing his throat.
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“Oh! P- Principal Spears. I- I was just leaving, don’t mind me!”
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“Just a moment, please.” He gestures towards a secluded portion of the room, and Naomi shakily nods and follows him over.
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“Holy shit,” I mumble. Naser only nods in response, and we glance over to where Naomi ended up. They’re out of earshot, but I can see Naomi’s terrified expression, confirming Spears heard what he needed to hear.
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“Uh, hey guys,” comes a voice from behind, startling me. “Oh, sorry. Uh, either of you seen Naomi?” Anon asks.
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“Over there, getting grilled by Spears,” I reply, pointing towards the active interrogation.
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“What? Why?”
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“Turns out she’s the one who sabotaged that presentation in March.”
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“What… what the fuck?” He doesn’t wait for a response, rushing over and interrupting Naomi’s verbal execution. I lean back in my chair, watching the trio go round and round in conversation.
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“I think it’s time to go, Fang,” Naser says, standing up.
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“Hell no, I’ve gotta see this. Might even get to see Anon grow a fucking brain.” He groans and sits back down. A couple minutes later, Spears leaves them, and they continue talking for a bit longer. Come on, dump her. Right then and there. She deserves it. Naomi looks at the floor, almost exactly like she did when she dumped Naser. All Anon needs to do is walk away, and he puts the cherry on top of this beautiful, beautiful sundae.
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He hugs her. Fucking what? Is he insane? Does she suck cock that well or something? Does he actually forgive her for the hell she put him through? They take each other’s hand and walk off, out of the building. Wow.
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“Alright, let’s get out of here,” I offer.
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Leaving our royal spoils in the car, we collapse into the couch in my house’s living room. Dad grunts from the recliner, shaking his head and looking around.
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“Ah. I see you two made it back. Enjoy yourselves?” I let out an affirmative groan as I kick off my heels. “Good, good. Glad to see you two are getting along.” He grunts, pushing himself to his feet and yawning. “Good night.” He slowly makes his way to the master bedroom, shutting the door behind him.
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“What a night,” Naser mumbles, hunching over.
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“Yeah. Didn’t think Naomi would go that far just for that stupid crown and tiara,” I reply.
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“I mean, we went pretty far for that stupid crown and tiara, too.”
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“She embarrassed her boyfriend in front of the entire class.”
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“I embarrassed my girlfriend in front of a bunch of students too.” I raise an eyebrow at him. “Sh- I mean, uh sibling. My sibling.”
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“Right.” I slide closer to him. “Your sibling. It’d be kinda weird if we were actually dating.”
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“Yeah. Good thing we aren’t.”
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“Would be pretty weird if you actually enjoyed kissing me or something.” A little bit closer.
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“I- uh, yeah. Sure would.”
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“Would be totally weird if your hand slid down past the hip of the person you definitely weren’t dating while slow-dancing and it ended up somewhere else.” Closer...
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“Pff- that- I-” Our legs touch and he locks up completely.
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“Really.” I grab one of his hands. “Really.” I lean into his shoulder and drop to a whisper. “Weird.” He blushes hard and I can see sweat forming on his brow. “Can I tell you something?”
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“S-sure…”
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“You kissing me on that stage was the best I’ve felt all year.” He doesn’t respond, looking at me wide-eyed. Come on, don’t make me spell it out.
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Something clicks, and he nervously puts his free hand on my cheek. I flutter my eyes, and he closes the distance, pressing his lips to mine. No eyes on us, no expectations, no pressure. Just the two of us. Finally.
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He pulls away before I’m even close to finished with him. I swing my leg over him and sit on his lap, pushing him into the couch and taking another kiss. He struggles against me a bit, trying to get my attention. I break off and glare at him for an explanation.
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“F-Fang, we’re, uh…”
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“Related?”
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“In the living room…” Oh. Yeah. One door separating our parents from this little situation.
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“Well, I suppose we can fix that, can’t we?” I climb off and pull him to his feet, and he stares at me, panting lightly. “Well? Come on.” I smack him on the arm and he remembers where he is. He leads me upstairs and into his room, closing the door behind me.
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I put my hands on his shoulders and look into his eyes. Two blazing suns look back at me, wide and at attention. My heart pounds with anticipation. We have the time, privacy and emotional state to do whatever we want. How far would we go tonight, or tomorrow, or next week?
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A pair of hands wraps around my lower back, pulling me close. He leans forward, kissing me again. This time, we have no reason to stop. I press against him and he presses back, a perfect balance. He tilts his head one way and I tilt the other, our tongues meeting in the middle. Warmth, breath and saliva mix as the connection is established. The long, dextrous muscles do not dance so much as battle for dominance, twisting and twirling against each other. If it were possible for two pteros to get tongue tied, it would be now.
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His hands drift downward, splaying out across my ass and giving me a firm squeeze. My wings involuntarily flaring behind me, I moan into his mouth and lean in further, our mouths opening wider and bringing even more of our tongues into the fray. His experience turns the tide, forcing my tongue back while his advances forward.
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At the end of my rope, I pull away, panting heavily, my face flushed with heat and my eyes filled with arousal. His hot breath washes over my snout as he recovers. I drag my hands to his chest and fiddle with the button at the top of his suit. It comes free, and I kiss him. Again, and again, and again, half a dozen buttons before it comes free, the two halves separating.
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I yank on his sleeve, pulling the suit over his arm and freeing it, then move behind him. I stop short, my hand lightly brushing against his scarred, crippled wing. Naser…
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"Hey," he whispers. "I haven't let that stop me. Don't let it stop you." I nod, a smile gracing my face. With some effort, I wrestle the rest of his suit over his wings and it drops onto the floor. I return to his front and get a face full of his bright pink undershirt.
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"Wow, that thing is fucking ugly," I comment.
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"How about you fix it?" With pleasure. I briefly consider tearing it to shreds as that would definitely fix it, but resign to take it off the normal way. I yank the shirt up and out of his beltline, giving him another kiss. We pull it up and over his head, and it hangs limply against his wing joints. Now that it's out of my sight, I place an earhole against his chest, listening to his racing heart. He brings a hand to my head, gently stroking my hair. A moment of respite from the flurry of hormones clouding our minds and guiding our hands.
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A brief one, anyway. Otherwise unmoving, I reach for his belt and find the outline of something rock-hard pressing from inside his pants. The heat between my legs swells in response, and I tug on his belt buckle a couple of times, eager to get inside but denied by this contraption. A deft flick of his hand opens and tosses it away, sending it clattering to the ground.
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One last button is undone and his white dress pants shift, gravity teasing the penultimate barrier to the elements ever so slightly. Far past the point of hesitation, I hook my hand into his beltline and force it down, leaving him with nothing more than a pair of dark boxers containing a noticeable bulge. Heat fills my body, begging for release, but before I can get a handful of forbidden meat, Naser crouches down and levels with my midsection.
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He grabs clumps of free fabric with his hands, and in one swift downward motion, my dress is freed from me, piling onto the floor around my feet. He plants a kiss right above my black panties and rises, another kiss every few inches, past my now-bare breasts and up to my neck. One hand fondles my chest while another slithers down, hovering over my most sensitive parts. My hand presses firmly against his groin, rubbing his rod with my palm, but he doesn't respond in kind. I shift my hips forward to get more of his hand on me, but he pulls it away.
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He silences my verbal protest with a kiss, so I resort to a physical one, turning my fingers inwards, sharp claws pressing against the outline of his desirables. A pair of fingers land roughly against my slit, the jolt of pleasure warding away my threats. A light moan passes my mouth and enters his as we grind and rub against each other. It's not enough; I need more. My finger slips into his elastic waistband, pulling it out and down, revealing his cock.
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I wrap my hand around it - or at least as much if it as I can, considering its girth - and give it a long teasing rub, my fingertips mapping out every feature on the way down to his hilt. A trio of fingers sneak into my panties, pushing the silken fabric away and pressing against me. I softly moan, pressing my body against his and grinding against his hand as I continue to rub him.
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A pair of fingers shift, the tips slick with evidence of my arousal, directly teasing my opening. I look up at him, biting my lip, silently pleading. No more teasing, not now.
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They push, but not enough to enter. My hips react for me, bringing the tips inside. I gasp sharply and blissfully groan as the rest make themselves at home. I freeze, my mind devoted to pouring over every ounce of this sensation and committing it to memory. Every beat of my heart sends another trickle of pleasure through me, and every breath dares me to sound aloud my ecstasy. This isn't the first time a pair of fingers were in my pussy, but it's the first time they weren't my own.
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Only a moment passes before they shift, ready to discover more of me. My mind clouds as they move around in every conceivable direction, pushing every button there is. I lean against him, my legs no longer willing to bear my weight, every heave of my chest bringing a different pitch of moan.
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Naser clears his throat, parting the fog and drawing my attention. His eyes flick downward and I follow his gaze to my hand, now limply resting against his still-throbbing cock. I pick up where I left off, stroking his length as best I can, barely able to keep my focus under the constant barrages of pleasure.
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His fingers slip out, catching my attention again. They glisten, slick with natural lube, and he wipes them off against his member. Before I can incorporate this new addition, he takes my wrist and guides it between my legs. Catching on, I coat some of my fingers in the stuff. Holy hell, it's a mess down here tonight. Taking the opportunity, he turns us around and pushes me against a nearby wall, towering over me.
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Our hands return to the other's organs, beginning anew. Naser is much more vocal this time around, grunting and sighing to my novice strokes, aided by my fluids. We kiss as our tempo increases, orgasms looming in the distance and quickly approaching as we discover our most sensitive spots. We squeeze against each other, leaving little space for our hands to maneuver, made up for by our hips gyrating and thrusting against us.
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"Fang…" he groans, sucking air through his teeth when my thumb flicks across his dick head.
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"Naser…" I moan, shuddering when his thumb pushes my clit and his fingers thrust into me.
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Our breaths quicken, the apex approaching. Any rhythm we might have had disappears, brute force stepping in for dexterity as our bodies shout for release. His free hand gently wraps around my snout, holding it shut. I glare at him for a split second, further protest being forced aside by the home stretch.
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My hips buck as Naser goes all in, flicking his thumb back and forth across my clit and jamming his fingers in as far as they would go. I give him a flurry of strokes as I cum, my scream of ecstasy muffled by his hand as my body floods with bliss.
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"Fuck!" Naser grunts, roughly thrusting against my palm. One last stroke and thrust sends him over, a rope of hot cum landing most of the way up my chest, another one across my midriff, and a third on my waist. He pulls himself into me, the rest of his orgasm leaving him in short spurts against my tummy as he moans blissfully.
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His hand drops and we stare into each other, panting heavily. One long, simple kiss is the cherry atop this sundae. The arousal wanes and the afterglow waxes, neither of us wanting to ruin the moment.
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Some time passes. Seconds, minutes, I don't really know. Naser looks down at his freshly painted canvas, chuckling lightly.
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"You, uh… want a towel?" he whispers. I nod and he walks over to the closet, yanking out a towel and offering it to me.
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"This is your mess," I mutter. Smirking, he softly rubs me down with the towel, starting at my thighs. I hiss as it grazes across my oversensitive parts, and he wipes up the jizz splattered across my feathers.
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He takes my hand and pulls me off the wall into a hug. I return the embrace as he lightly rocks me side to side.
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"It's… been a long day," he says.
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"Yeah, I'm pretty tired," I respond.
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"Ah, well… good night then." He places a kiss on the tip of my snout, then turns away, stretching and yawning as he flops into bed. I tiptoe over and slide under the covers next to him. "Wh- what are you doing?"
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"Sleeping with you, dweeb. You aren't getting rid of me that easy."
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"That's… not a good idea."
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"Everything we've done today has been a bad idea. One more isn't going to kill us. Now scoot over." He hesitates, then relents, shuffling away to give me space. Space that I immediately scoot past, wrapping myself around him.
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"I- alright…" he sighs.
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"I love you, Naser." His probably merited fear melts away, replaced by a wide grin.
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"I love you too, Fang."
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We share one last kiss before drifting off to sleep together.