Chapter Text
Tup walked into the 'fresher and went straight for the nearest bench. Vode moved by him. Tup smiled and waved cutely at some as he stopped in front of the bench and began to remove his clothing, his pants being the first to go.
"Morning, Tup!" Hardcase approached him with his usual gaiety.
Tup looked up and smiled. "Morning, 'Case! How did you sleep?"
Hardcase stretched his arms above his head and grinned. "Like a baby!"
Tup giggled and folded his pants up. "Me too! I slept well after yesterday's sparring practice. Rex ran us into the ground, didn't he?"
Hardcase shrugged. "Nah. I enjoyed it! I beat the hell out of three brothers!”
Tup smirked and tugged his shirt over his head. When it came off, he froze as something brushed against his leg light as a feather. He looked down at the floor and groaned in annoyance.
Hardcase frowned, eyes following the dancing motion of two black feathers. "Dang."
Tup sighed heavily and folded his shirt up. "Another one bites the dust…" He walked around the bench and waved at Hardcase. "Well, I'm going to take a shower."
Hardcase perked up. "Okay! Chat later!"
Tup walked into a shower stall and activated the warm water. He smiled and relaxed his tense shoulders and rolled his neck. A soft groan slithered from his wet lips as he craned his neck from side to side, and he let the water soothe his aching muscles. It didn't do much so he turned to face the room behind him and tilted his face up towards the spout, allowing the water to wash over his face and stream down his back. Water droplets draped over his skin like transparent silk and soaked into his feathers as dark as the night sky.
He flexed his wings and smiled.
Freshly showered and smelling good, Tup returned to his bunk bed and picked up his DC-15 to start taking it apart on his bed. He enjoyed taking apart his weapon; not only was it a sport of some kind and not a tiresome chore, but he found it a great distraction from the war. His vode were a reminder of the war. His armor was a reminder of the war. The ship he traveled in, his home, was a reminder of the war. And even though his gun, the weapon he shot droids with, caused sparks to fly with, killed with, should've reminded him of the war, it didn't.
"Tup!" Tup heard his name being called and looked up to see Dogma walking over to him. Tup smiled sweetly.
Dogma was not a reminder of the war.
"Hey, Dogma!" Tup greeted cheerfully
Dogma sat on the edge of the bed and looked down at the weapon in Tup's hands. "Ah. Cleaning your DC, I see."
Tup giggled and nodded, looking at his gun. "Yeah, yeah." He fiddled with the middle piece and looked at his friend. "Wanna chat while I do this?"
"Sure," Dogma replied and leaned his back against the headboard of the bed.
Their conversation was mostly about guns and weapons. Also, about training yesterday. Dogma enjoyed himself, but he couldn't stop the adrenaline flow after so he went to the shooting range to let off more steam. That made sense to Tup; Dogma was one of those men who, after receiving a burst of adrenaline, needed more of it to relax.
Tup was the opposite, as he shared that he disliked sparring because his wings could easily get hurt. After all, the flight feathers were delicate and Tup was worried about breaking them. Dogma was aware of this.
"Did something happen to them?" Dogma asked.
Tup shrugged. "No?"
Dogma frowned and looked at him. "Tup, if something happened to your wings, you have to tell Kix."
Tup gave him a look. "Kix is a field medic, not an avian doctor. What's that gonna do?" Tup looked away and stroked a part of the gun with his thumb, getting rid of the dirt on it. "And besides, my wings aren't hurt, so you don't have to worry about them."
Dogma nodded, letting it go. "Okay." His eyes slowly peered up at the huge wings folded like an accordion between Tup's shoulder blades. They were silky smooth, making Dogma feel like he wanted to touch them.
He slowly reached out while Tup continued to peek inside the parts he disconnected from his gun, and his fingers brushed the marginal coverts or the feathers on the arm of the wing.
Tup did a whole body shudder and flinched away, wide eyes staring at Dogma in shock. Dogma jerked his hand back as if he was burned.
"What are you doing?!" Tup asked with a nervous squeal. A pink blush formed over his face and the bridge of his nose.
Dogma's eyes widened. "I am so sorry! I- I didn't mean to—" he paused and gulped. "Did… did I hurt you?"
Tup, now shaking less, shook his head and straightened up. "I'm fine."
Dogma nodded and turned away.
Tup stared at him quietly, eyes looking into his soul as if he was deep in thought.
Dogma wanted the burning in his cheeks to go away. A small hand slowly reached out to touch his, getting him to meet Tup's eyes again.
Tup sheepishly shrugged. "You can keep touching them if you like."
Dogma stared emotionlessly, then reached over to gently brush one finger over a small feather. Tup shivered but he didn't react badly. He proceeded to check pieces of his gun. Dogma smiled to himself and began to pet Tup's wings earnestly. There was a shiver here and there, but nothing else. He brushed and fixed all the crooked feathers, straightening them into place. There was a lot that were crooked and out of place, and that was because taking showers did that sometimes.
After getting rid of all the crooked feathers, he started to card his fingers through them, finger pads brushing against the skin under the feathers.
Tup twitched. The awkward silence was getting to him. "Soooo~ What are you going to do today?"
Dogma hummed and moved his hand to a different spot in the primary coverts before he petted those down. "I'm going to the training room later to use the weights. After that, I'mma eat something." Dogma hit a ticklish spot, causing the left wing to jerk out. He caught it gently and looked at Tup.
Tup chuckled nervously. "Sorry."
Dogma smiled and let go of the wing to continue. "Yeah, nothing special. What about you?"
Tup shrugged. "I might stay here."
"Ah. That sounds like fun," Dogma remarked sarcastically.
Tup looked back at him. "If you want, I can meet you at the shooting range later. See who can get the most shots in the center."
Dogma smirked. "It's a deal." His hand drifted down to the primaries and carded its fingers through a certain spot that was very sensitive, and it felt good. Too good.
Tup bit his lip, trying his hardest to contain the embarrassing sounds that want to slip out. It was hard. It was just… it was Dogma touching his wings, his crush was touching his wings. Tup blushed at the thought and closed his eyes, taking deep breaths. Then Tup looked down at his gun and started to snap the pieces back together.
Dogma brushed over another sensitive area and smiled to himself when Tup's wings twitched in his hands. He was honored and so happy that Tup has allowed him to do this. His wings have always been special to him and everyone in their battalion. Nobody else had wings like him. Tup was special; different, so every member in their battalion kept it a big secret. Touching them should be taboo because they were attached to Tup's body, like two arms would be, but Tup let Dogma. So Dogma was going to make the most of this.
He moved his hand up Tup's wings and opened them a little.
Tup spread his wings for him and let him do his thing. "What do you want to do after the range?"
Dogma shrugged. "I don't know. Come back here, I guess." He reached for the spot closest to the base of Tup's neck.
Tup nodded slowly and rolled back his stiff shoulders. "Y- Yeah. That's probably what I'm going to—"
Dogma brushed over a spot under his feathers and stroked something soft and wet. Tup gasped sharply and let out a soft groan. His wings fluttered by themselves, spreading out more as if they wanted Dogma to touch them in that same spot again. Tup panicked. His face burned. He quickly covered the sound with a loud cough, then peeped over his shoulder when the fingers stopped.
He met Dogma’s eyes; Dogma looked shocked. He heard the sound.
Tup turned a deeper shade of red that Dogma didn't think was possible. And Tup, with his quick thinking, flapped his wings and scrambled away with a cough. "Okay! That's enough!" He squeaked.
Dogma's hands stayed hovering over the empty spot Tup left, and he watched as Tup jumped out of the bed and ran away. Confused, Dogma bit his lip and looked away. Okay. What was that about? Did...did I hurt him? He pursed his lips nervously and got out of the bed to return to his. He took out his datapad and looked up something about birds wings and touching them to make sure he didn't accidentally hurt Tup. He went through four different articles until he found one that was less confusing and got to the point. His eyes looked over two sentences and his eyes went wide after they caught one word: preening someone's wings can arouse them. Preening is an intimate act that can lead to sex.
His eyes widened, and he leaned back against the headboard, blushing lightly. Oh.
The next four days were awkward for both Dogma and Tup. Tup tried his absolute best to avoid Dogma. He walked in different directions and subtly left a room whenever Dogma came in. Or Tup avoided eye contact. Dogma did the same, but he was less awkward about the situation between them. It wasn't much of a situation for Dogma anyway. He didn't have a problem with what happened four days ago. Of course, Tup did, so he respected that and kept his distance. He spent most of his time researching preening and bird wings so he could learn better ways to help Tup if need be, or just to learn about them in general.
There was one thing they had in common though: they both couldn't get what happened out of their heads. Along with his research, he kept thinking about the sound that Tup made when he brushed over that wet spot at the base of his wings. And he couldn’t stop remembering the way Tup looked with his pink lips parted just slightly as he groaned in what seemed to be pleasure.
In the rec room, Tup was curled up on the sofa, hiding his face in a pillow. He felt squeamish but in a good way. The base of his wings was practically humming, his stomach felt warm in the center, and he couldn't forget the soft and gentle sensation of Dogma's fingers drifting across his feathers and stroking that spot that felt really good. It felt like his whole world just exploded around him. He felt like stars were about to erupt from behind his eyelids. He felt like he was about to melt right into his seat and become a puddle. Each time he thought about Dogma's calloused fingers stroking that sensitive and private spot between his huge wings, he took a cold shower to cool himself down. That happened three times, those thoughts.
Thursday came around, and it wasn't having a good day for Tup. One: all the hot water was used, so that meant no more hot showers for the rest of the morning. And two: sparring was terrible! Tup was forced to spar with a bigger vod and now his shoulders and wings ached. After training ended, he raced back to his bunk and tried his best to massage his shoulders and collar bone, to no avail. And don't even get him started on his wings. Reaching them was a chore.
Dogma watched from afar, leaning against the footboard of his bunk as his best friend hissed and groaned in discomfort. He felt bad. He saw how Tup got slammed onto his back hard during training. Tup was able to fold his wings so tight against his back that they wouldn't get damaged on and off the field, but sometimes they were somehow hit. I should help him. He probably can't reach his wings, he thought, nervously fiddling with his thumbs. It won't be awkward. Just offer to preen his wings. Preen… that's the correct word, right?
Dogma huffed and stood up. I'm gonna do it. He walked over and stopped in front of Tup's bed.
Tup groaned when he couldn't reach his wings. He looked over when he sensed someone's presence near him, saw Dogma and offered a sheepish smile. "Hi, Dogma.”
Dogma nodded at him and motioned to his wings. "Hey. I noticed you've got a problem. Do you need any help?"
Tup flustered and looked away. "You… you don't need to, Dogma. I think I got it."
Dogma smirked. "Do you? You can barely reach them."
Tup blushed red and sunk into himself, defeated. "Fine. You can touch them." Tup shifted his body so his wings faced Dogma. They spread out to their full length, showing off their ebony beauty, silky smooth to the touch.
Dogma felt a smile play on his lips and he tried not to get too excited. "So, what parts hurt?"
Tup looked over his shoulder and pointed. "A lot of the feathers are knocked out of place. It hurts a bit, and my shoulders and collarbone are sore; I got knocked onto my back."
Dogma nodded in understanding and kneeled on the blankets, hands hovering in front of him. "So, I looked it up, and what I'm doing is called preening. Preening is when birds clean their wings. Though, for you, you would use your hands and fingers."
Tup smirked and looked at Dogma, eyes twinkling in amusement. "Oh~ Someone's done their research~"
Dogma felt his cheeks burn, but ignored, sure that Tup saw that. "Yeah, yeah. That's not all, though. There's a lot I looked at."
Tup faced away from Dogma and forward, rolling his shoulders, wings flapping softly in the process. Dogma smiled in awe at the instinctual action.
Tup sighed heavily. "So, tell me, Dogma. What else did you learn?"
Dogma reached up and brushed his fingers down the first bunch of feathers, trying to see if this could straighten them out. It did to some. "Your Uropygial gland is at the base of your wings. It would be difficult to reach it yourself, so an extra set of hands could be useful.”
“My what?” Tup squeaked out, confusion in his tone.
Dogma snickered, “Your oil gland.”
Tup nodded.
“If I massage it, it creates this oil that I can rub into your wings to help smooth the feathers out.” And it's the thing I accidentally touched a few days ago, Dogma added internally.
Tup's mouth went slack in surprise. "Oh, wow! I didn't even know that! That's probably why a few of my feathers have been falling out lately. And I've done nothing to knock them out. They just fell out on their own."
Dogma hummed and began to straighten out a bunch of Tup's more crooked feathers. "Yeah, that makes sense. There's this thing called holding season. That's when your feathers will usually fall out."
Tup shivered when Dogma reached his feathers at the top of his left wing at the curve and fixed them. "Mmm. Then, could you possibly use the oil?"
Dogma stopped, then continued. "Sure." He finished straightening out the feathers on the curve and lightly brushed his hand and fingers over them.
It went silent afterward, but it was a comfortable, warm silence that was a deep contrast to before. Dogma moved down to fix the feathers in the middle of Tup's left wing. The wing twitched under his touch.
Being less nervous and shy now, Dogma was able to focus on the extravagant and minuscule details of Tup's wings and feathers. On every other feather, there was a faded swirl pattern on it. It caught his eye the moment he saw it. Dogma gently brushed the pad of his finger over the pattern and discovered the pattern was raised a bit, like small bristles, probably there to help Tup fly and were there to guide him through the air. He smiled to himself and moved on.
The middle feathers were all corrected out of their crookedness, and now he just brushed his fingers over to flatten them out and make sure they were smooth. Then he did the same to the 6th row of feathers called the secondaries. They were bigger feathers, longer, and wider. Afterward, he moved onto the right wing and repeated everything he did on the left. There were fewer feathers to fix on the right wing.
Tup was having a hard time keeping quiet. Both wings wouldn't stop vibrating and twitching. A long, heavy purr built up in his chest but he bit the inside of his mouth to control himself. He's just preening you. That's it. Nothing more.
Dogma started to fix the primary feathers at the bottom when Tup shivered hard and groaned. Dogma stopped his heavenly touches and smirked, leaning to the side. "Are you okay?"
Tup nodded stiffly and looked back at him. "Yeah, I'm fine. Sorry. I don't know why my wings keep doing that."
Dogma smiled at him and leaned close to whisper, "You are enjoying it. It's no problem."
Tup blushed at the husky tone of his voice. "O- Oh." Tup mentally slapped himself. Stars. That's all you say to that?! "Oh." Seriously! Geez, Tup. You are super flirty!
Dogma chuckled and continued by stroking in small circles.
Tup squirmed at the odd feeling and looked back at him, blushing. "D- Dogma?"
Dogma smiled at him. "Sorry. Your feathers are just so smooth. Are they naturally like that?"
Tup flustered and nodded shyly. "Y- Yeah. I mean…" he paused, then said, "Yeah."
Dogma bummed and stared at the faded, intricate patterns on the feathers and wings. Then he reached up and said, "I'm about to use the oil gland now. Is that okay?"
Tup smiled at the caring question. "Yes, I'm ready."
Dogma nodded and gently pushed his fingers down into the feathers toward the base of them. His fingers brushed lightly against the front of the knot-shaped thing.
Tup closed his eyes and groaned softly, the same sound from earlier that week.
Dogma blushed and continued, stroking the oil gland until it produced the thick liquid he needed. Then he slowly pulled his finger from within and gawked at the partially transparent yellow goo covering his skin. Wow.
Tup peeked over his shoulder and stared. Dogma brushed his fingers down Tup's straightened feathers and watched as the liquid seeped into them. Dogma exhaled in awe and moved his fingers, going with the feathers. He went for more oil.
Tup shivered and flapped his wings. "S- Sorry, sorry!" He squeaked.
Dogma brushed his feathers with the new oil and smiled. "It's okay. You don't have to apologize."
Tup shivered, feeling this warm knot grow in his chest: adoration.
Dogma did long strokes straight down to Tup's primary feathers to effectively spread out the oil. The holonet was right! Tup's feathers were slowly absorbing the oil. It probably was hydrating the skin underneath, like how oil could do for dry scalp and skin.
Hm. What if I part his wings to get to it better? Dogma wondered, raising his hands to either side of Tup's wings to part them. He could see his oil gland more clearly now. It was a huge dark brown gland the size of a walnut surrounded by small feathers called wicks, which were used to get an even amount of the oil. Now that the oil gland was triggered by his constant stroking, the oil kept coming out, now sticking to the small fluffy feathers, and he used two fingers this time to gather up the oil.
Tup purred this time. The deep sound resounded in his chest, happy and pure. Tup flapped his wings to fluff them out as if he was trying to make himself look pretty for Dogma. He stretched his wings until they couldn't stretch anymore, now the tips of his wings bending under the bottom of the top bunk which kept them from coming to its full open scale.
Dogma gently placed his hand on the top curve of his left wing and chuckled. He couldn't reach the top feathers now. He scooted closer until he was sitting against Tup's back, then pushed Tup's wings open a bit and circled his oil gland with two fingers.
Tup exhaled shakily and fidgeted.
Dogma moved to his other wing and covered it in oil. To reach the highest point, Dogma had to press his chest flush against Tup's back.
Tup got all flustered at the intimate touch that Dogma's fingers graced up his skin. Tup looked down and shivered every so often.
Dogma covered two fingers with more oil and brushed the bottom feathers. Then Dogma leaned forward and brushed his lips against Tup's ear. "How does it feel, Tup? Does this feel fine?"
Tup shuddered. "Y- Yes. More than fine." Tup shivered hard and relaxed against him.
Dogma smiled and nuzzled Tup's neck as he continued to stroke his feathers out, not needing the oil anymore.
Tup flapped his wings and purred.
Dogma finished covering all his feathers and moved to massage his shoulders.
Tup gasped sharply and groaned. "What… What are you doing?"
Dogma purred. "I noticed that your shoulders hurt. You were rubbing them earlier. Let me take care of that."
Tup shivered and nodded.
Dogma dug his fingers to his tense muscles, rubbing all the hard knots out. Tup, unable to get over how good this felt, groaned softly and relaxed against him. "Stars, Dogma. That feels good."
Dogma trailed his fingers down to his collarbone and massaged them.
Tup sighed heavily and flapped his wings.
Dogma stopped after a while and smiled when Tup turned his head and nuzzled the side of his face. Dogma nuzzled him back.
"Dogma?" Tup said.
"Yes?" Dogma asked with an arched eyebrow.
"Mm. Thank you. This was… this was nice," Tup told him, purring happily, a soft, comforting sound that vibrated against Dogma's chest.
Dogma smiled and leaned back so his back pressed against the headboard and he spread his legs, allowing Tup to slot himself in between them. "You're welcome," he said softly and wrapped his arms around his chest.
They both relaxed, content with one another's presence.