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"You're shaping up to be
Quite the beauty
Your eyes come through
And hold the heart in me
And what I see in you
Means the world to me
Safe in your smile there's a place where I can breathe"
-"Shaping Up to Be," Jasmine Rodgers
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
Radiant Beings
Max delicately twisted the end of one of his husband's long, thin braids as he listened to him talk, reveling in that soft, clear voice. Ray wasn't usually a man of many words; his speech tidy and clipped and straight-to-the-point, so unlike the clan of ostentatious gabbers that Max was proud to call his own. It was sweet and precious in its very simplicity, and made the rare occasions when he did go on at length all the more special.
"...I just think it sounds interesting. And like I could really do a lot of good if I applied the knowledge to my own practice."
Though he was pretty sure he had the general idea, Max couldn't say his understanding was complete.
More importantly, he wasn't ready to stop listening.
"What was it about, again?"
Ray took a deep breath, a filigree of words tumbling out in a gorgeous memorized cascade.
"The integration of Imperial intravenous medicine with traditional healing arts and herbalism. The lecturer is supposedly a real pioneer in both fields, so it's a really unique opportunity."
Despite considering himself something of a scholar—if a disorganized and eclectic one—in his own right, Max had to admit that his understanding of medicine and the sciences was a bit lacking. That was the domain of his husband and sister, and their inward-looking, systematic kind.
Wondering anew why he was the one Ray had ultimately chosen, Max chuckled warmly as he ran a hand along that finely-shaped skull, marveling at the labyrinth within.
"...I understood some of those words."
With a yawn, Ray languidly untangled himself from Max's arms and began the long rolling stretch to the edge of their wide bed. Their mattress was luxuriously huge, but they tended to cluster in the middle, which made fetching something from the nightstand a bit of a slog. Max watched as Ray sifted through his ever-rotating stack of books and papers, his sharp little shoulderblades shifting in the lamplight as he rummaged around.
Eventually, he found what he was looking for and rolled back to the warm center of the bed, passing Max a thin pamphlet.
"Here. Understand the rest."
Max held the pamphlet up in one hand, beginning to read as he pulled Ray close with the other. His slight figure fit perfectly into the space between his arm and trunk, to such an extent that lying down and not holding him felt almost uncomfortable. Occasionally—as with his terse speech—that sleek spareness served to remind Max of his own excesses, making him feel awkward and bashful.
But tonight wasn't one of those nights. His mind was on nothing but the familiar feel of his husband's body curled against his own, and the tantalizing glimpse into his mysterious world that the humble brochure afforded him.
"...Hmm. Intriguing."
Ray yawned, settling his head into the padded expanse of Max's chest.
"Yeah. The only trouble is that I'd be gone for almost a week, and you know how I get homesick."
Of course, Max knew that "home," to Ray, wasn't Alvarna itself. It was the very place that he now lay, gently enfolded by the one he loved. Home, as they say, is where the heart is, and Ray had entrusted that heart to Max's care.
And so, as he held him close and mapped out the route in his mind, a plan began to take shape.
"...Perhaps it would be more bearable if you were gone for a few days more?"
Ray's slender brows knitted in confusion.
"Huh?"
Max began fiddling with one of the braids again, so excited by his own plotting that he could barely keep a straight face.
"Well... It so happens that the route to the Capitol very nearly intersects with a pleasant little village where my first cousin once removed runs what I understand is a rather excellent restaurant. If I tagged along with you, we could pay him a visit, and perhaps I could introduce you to someone I think you'd be quite happy to meet."
Though his expression softened with relief at the idea that he might not have to make the trip alone, Ray still looked a bit puzzled.
"Restaurant... That's Cousin Porco, right? I met him at the wedding."
Recalling his cousin's ebullient toast to their union—and looking ahead to how delightedly shocked Ray would surely be if he agreed to this little plan—Max allowed a small laugh to escape.
"Indeed you did! He thought you were a delight, and would be overjoyed to meet you again. But there's also someone else."
Ray tilted his head quizzically, letting the motion segue seamlessly into a sleepy nuzzle into the warm crook of Max's neck.
"...Who?"
Max chuckled deviously, kissing the crown of Ray's head and letting his fingertips play along the gully of his slender back.
"You'll just have to meet them!"
At that, the little sighs of contentment drew out into an exasperated groan.
"Honestly, Max..."
But he didn't say no. Which, for Ray, was often as good as saying yes, so it seemed there was a thrilling adventure in their future.
As his mind wandered to all the places it might take them, Max ran one of the twin plaits through his fingers, from the sensitive nape of Ray's delicate neck to the silky tasseled end. His hair was fun to play with as it was, but all the more stimulating when it was loose and undone, the fine locks slipping through his fingers like water.
"...May I take down your braids tonight?"
Ray yawned again, his voice already thick with sleep.
"Another time. It's late."
Max sighed in resignation, suddenly aware of the heaviness of his own eyelids.
"Very well."
~*~
When the day of departure finally arrived, Max and Ray bid their friends and neighbors goodbye and hopped onto the ship where they were to spend the first day and night of their journey.
Boats, of course, were familiar enough to both of them. The real excitement was the airship, which was set to ferry them inland and touch down at their destination.
"...Honestly? Never?"
Ray groaned slightly as he hoisted his pack onto his shoulders, still blinking the sleep from his eyes as he glanced around the tiny sleeping quarters for anything he might have forgotten.
"Yes! Never! How many times are you going to need to ask me?"
Max regarded him amiably, his blue eyes glassy and uncomprehending.
"I just find it difficult to believe."
As worldly and well-traveled as he was, Max was still a bit innocent when it came to how ordinary people lived their lives. It was actually rather cute, when it wasn't terrifically annoying.
"Not everyone can afford to fly all around the world, you know."
And, thankfully, it was a fault that he readily acknowledged. Max's blank puzzlement gave way to giddy anticipation, the far-away look never quite leaving his glittering eyes.
"Ah, my apologies... Well, you're in for a treat, then. It's quite thrilling."
By way of response, Ray tossed him his pack.
"...Only if we don't miss it. Let's get going."
And then they were off, out of the subaquatic chambers of the ship and up onto the sunny expanse of the port, where the famed airship hovered in wait. Max shot Ray a rather maniacal grin over his shoulder, then made to dash up the dizzying stone stairway.
"See!? Isn't it marvelous!?"
Ray took a more cautious pace, steadying his pack and taking care not to trip.
"It's... Certainly something."
Truly, it was; all polished wood and spinning propellers and gleaming brass trim, the massive white balloon looking for all the world like the egg of some legendary creature. Letting Max take the lead—he was the expert, after all—Ray trailed eagerly after his ebullient husband as they entered the ship and found their seats.
"The ascent might be a bit disorienting, but I was quite small on my first voyage by air, so you'll probably be fine..."
Ray nodded along as he slipped their bags under the seats, making sure they were stashed securely for the trip.
"That's good to-"
Unfortunately, Max was too wrapped up in reminiscing and cackling to himself to hear.
"...And poor Rosalind! The first time she sat through takeoff, she was so violently sick that father had-"
Having heard enough, Ray gently jabbed him with a sharp elbow.
"You have a real way of inspiring confidence, don't you?"
Max went right on giggling, as though amused by his own impropriety.
"Sorry."
After a moment of contemplative silence, the airship roared to life, and Ray was met with the odd sensation of the Earth dropping out from under his boots.
Which, of course, only served to remind him that he wasn't on Earth at all, and had indeed left it the moment he stepped onto the stairs at the port.
"...Oh. That does feel a little strange."
Max laughed again; putting one of those warm, heavy, wonderful arms around Ray's shoulders, pulling him close so they formed a tight huddle around the bright porthole.
"It does, doesn't it? But look at that view!"
Ray settled into the strength and softness of his husband's robust body, feeling wonderfully grounded and safe in spite of the Earth's racing away below them. He could see farther than he ever had in his life; over mountains and valleys and thick autumn-colored forests on one side, endlessly across the sparkling sea on the other. It was all so beautiful that it made him hold his breath, releasing it only to gasp in surprise when he realized they'd gone above the clouds.
"Pretty amazing."
They sat like that for a while, watching the landscape roll by until Max broke Ray's reverie with a kiss on the cheek.
"...I believe we've hit cruising altitude. Would you like to go topside?"
Though it took some effort to pull his eyes away from the porthole, Ray managed to shoot him a questioning glance.
"We're allowed to do that?"
And just like that, Max had sprung up from his seat, beckoning with an outstretched hand.
"Of course! It's the best part! Come, now!"
Ray took it readily, once more submitting to Max's expertise.
"If you say so..."
Together, the two men ascended the creaky wood stairs and stepped into a maelstrom. Max closed his eyes and sighed in a wild sort of satisfaction, sniffing at the cold sharp air.
"Ahh! Feel that wind!"
For his part, Ray was wondering how one could manage to not feel the wind. It had swallowed his senses entirely; whipping his braids this way and that, plastering his smart calf-length skirt to his legs, roaring so hectically in his ears that he felt he had to shout to be heard.
"...Bracing."
As Max grinned in agreement, Ray couldn't help but notice how utterly at home he looked in the sky; that thick banner of golden-sun hair, his tendency to dress himself in vivid pale blues to bring out his eyes, the dreamy cumuliform contours of his voluminously well-formed body.
"Indubitably! Now let's enjoy the view from here!"
Ray, on the other hand, felt as dizzyingly out of place as a stray leaf in a hurricane.
Even so, he let Max lead him right to the edge, where they daringly peered down at the world below. Up here in the wind, it all felt somehow even wider and more real than it had through the porthole. It was staggeringly beautiful, but Ray couldn't deny the urge to huddle up and steady himself somewhere less precarious.
Especially when he saw how tightly Max was grasping the railing, his knuckles gone bone-white.
"...A little scary, isn't it?"
Max laughed nervously, his smile beginning to waver.
"For a first-timer, I suppose."
Somehow, just knowing he wasn't the only one to feel it eased the worst of Ray's fear. But even so, it was probably best that they return to what passed for stable ground.
"Want to go see what they have in the galley?"
And just like that, Max resumed the role of cheerful expert, eagerly taking Ray by the hand and pulling him through the thin gusty air.
"Why, yes! Airships traditionally serve quite the variety of sandwiches... It's all part of the experience, really, so you especially need to partake, my good man!"
Ray held on tight, so as not to be blown off his feet.
"Lead the way."
They stepped onto the staircase—ears buzzing, faces stinging-numb—and all was still once more.
~*~
Though his general mood was daring and ready for new adventures, there was still a refreshing rush of relief when Max stepped into his cousin's restaurant and suddenly felt right at home.
The cozy, dark-wood interior was scented with touches of his own father's sweet orange potpourri blend, which brought back warm memories of crisp autumn days in his sprawling family home. A golden-haired musician was playing a familiar tune on a grand piano near the counter. Even the occasional whiffs of something cooking in the kitchen seemed viscerally recognizable.
And Porcoline, as always, was overjoyed to see him.
"Marvelous hello! The beautiful couple arrives!"
Max slung off his pack and tossed it to Ray, so as to make it easier for Porcoline to lovingly crush the life out of him. The two men embraced warmly, and Max took giddy pleasure in being grown-up and able to properly return a full-force de Sainte-Coquille hug.
"Good evening, Cousin! How are you today?"
Porcoline laughed heartily as he pulled away and briskly straightened the many-layered ruffles of his clothing, then gestured toward the woman at the piano.
"Fantabulously fine, dear Max! Meggy! Come meet our guests!"
The musician turned to them and stood, revealing long pricked ears and graceful, even longer limbs. She was, it seemed, the young Elf his cousin had taken in some time back, and she radiated the mysterious dazzling quality common to her kind.
Though, as she approached them—pink-cheeked and smiling nervously—it seemed that she was the one who was somewhat dazzled.
"I'm Meg... Margaret. Max, right?"
Assuming she was a shy type, Max gave a gentlemanly bow to put her at ease.
"Correct."
The pink of her cheeks only deepened, and she quickly turned toward Ray, who was preoccupied and nonthreatening.
"And you must be Ray?"
Ray hefted his own pack to the floor, stretching his back and rolling his shoulders.
"That's me."
Margaret gave him a gentle smile, then dared to approach Max again.
"Porco's told me a lot about you both... He's said you're the musical type, but I don't believe he mentioned what you play... If you play? Sorry if I assumed anything..."
The best answer Max could think to give was to boldly stroll over to the piano bench, sit down, and plunk out a brief tune.
"...I'm no professional, but you assume correctly."
Ray sighed in weary exasperation as he fussed with the luggage.
"Max... You should probably ask people bef-"
Margaret gave him a reassuring—if somewhat forward—pat on the shoulder, then hurried to the piano bench, where she cheerfully plunked down next to Max.
"Oh, I don't mind! Scoot over!"
Max happily obliged, and before he knew it, the two of them were playing a simple duet, laughing all the while. It was only when the tune wound down that the spell broke and released them back into the everyday world, where Porcoline was waiting with a surprising amount of restraint.
"Meggy... If you're finished, can you take our guests' things up to their room?"
Margaret huffed, propping her chin in her hand as her elbow landed on the piano keys with a harsh clank.
"...Am I a bellhop now?"
Porcoline gasped in theatrical indignation.
"Hardly! These aren't visitors or boarders! They're our personal guests, and they must be exhausted!"
Margaret exhaled with a laugh, then stood from the bench and rushed over to retrieve the bags from Ray.
"Right... Sorry. Let's be good hosts!"
Max watched her scurry up the stairs, a warm fondness glowing in his chest despite his having just met her moments ago.
"...She is charming. Just as you said."
But that glow paled in comparison to the one that lit Porcoline's face as he watched her go.
"Isn't she, though? And quite the prodigy! I'd say I'm proud of her, but it's really all her own miraculous doing!"
Max grinned as he pulled Ray close, kissing him pointedly on the temple.
"You choose your companions well... It's a family trait, you know."
The sight of them made Porcoline grin even more broadly as he guided them towards a table.
"That it is, that it is! Now! The two of you must be stupendously starving, and it so happens that I've prepared a fabulous feast!"
The "feast," as it turned out, was nothing more than plates of omelet rice, though a particularly elaborate and well-prepared version. This, of course, suited Max just fine. The dish was a mainstay in his own home, and something filling and familiar was the very thing after a thrilling day of travel.
"...Ahh, delicious! This is a de Sainte-Coquille specialty, you know, and Porco's is a far sight better than my own attempts. Are you enjoying it, Darling?"
Ray nodded dreamily. He was a fairly mechanical eater, and, to the untrained eye—especially when compared with Max's effusive clan—a rather unenthusiastic one. But when someone took the time to make him something truly delicious, he was as fully capable of relishing his meals as everyone else.
"Mmm. Yeah."
As the two of them ate, Porcoline talked; of life in the restaurant business, of the interesting people who sometimes came to stay in the empty room upstairs, of their dear relatives who lived in nearby Sharance and their consistently outrageous behavior. He regaled them most engagingly, until it was time to trundle into the kitchen and bring out dessert.
Upon his return, Max and Ray found themselves presented with a single oversized slice of rich chocolate cake, complete with two small forks.
The tines delicately chimed together as they excitedly reached for that first decadent bite.
~*~
While Ray puttered around the room getting their things set up for a two-night stay, Max made himself thoroughly useless; sifting through empty drawers, peering at all the dusty nothing under the bed, poking his head into the vacant closet. It was actually rather interesting to watch, and Ray couldn't help but laugh as he settled their toothbrushes on a folded washrag by the sink.
"...What are you doing?"
Max paused his investigation, suddenly seeming deep in thought.
"Hmm, good question... Seeing if everything's in order, I suppose. You know I don't sleep well with uncertainty."
Ray shook his head as another laugh escaped.
"There isn't much to be out of order."
But Max, of course, wasn't really listening. He had gracefully plopped down in the desk chair, and was busying himself opening and closing each of the desk's small drawers.
"That's what you think... Aha! Ray! Fetch me a pen!"
With a triumphant grin, Max held up the only out-of-place object he had managed to find; a dusty old diary that looked as though it had languished in the drawer for years. Ray rifled through his luggage until he located a pen, which he flicked at his husband indifferently.
"Here."
Max caught the pen and began flipping through the abandoned journal, finding it tantalizingly blank.
"Thank you muchly, Love!"
Then he leaned back in the chair, put his feet up on the desk, and began to write, smiling amusedly to himself all the while. Having finished setting up, Ray came to stand behind him, leaning forward to lay a head on his shoulder and watch him write.
Hi, I'm Max de Sainte-Coquille. I'm recording my name in memory of my first visit here. Make sure you don't forget it! That's Max, with an X (for X-TREME) de Sainte-
Max's pen continued to ramble on in a similar fashion for a few minutes more, even as Ray nuzzled closer and kissed him on the cheek.
"...You're silly."
Silly as he was, there was always something endearingly poignant in Max's insistence on not being forgotten; as though such a thing were possible, as though he didn't leave an indelible impression on everyone he met.
Finally satisfied that he would be remembered, Max capped the pen and slipped the book back into the drawer.
"One man's silly is... Actually, I'm not sure. I'll get back to you. Now what say we go have that bath?"
Ray laughed as he wound his arms around Max's gently rounded shoulders, rising with him as he stood.
"Sounds great. My grime has grime."
The autumn night outside was just crisp enough to make the anticipation of warm water extra delicious, and the interior of the fabled bathhouse was warm and bright, heavy on the red cloth and polished wood. Ray watched quietly as Max—proudly flaunting his wealth and his silver tongue—chatted with the beautiful woman behind the counter and slipped her their Gold pieces, then nodded a silent thanks as he retrieved their towels and followed his husband into the men's bath.
In the changing room, he unbuttoned his high collar by feel as he kept his eyes on Max, who always did have a particular flair for undressing. He removed his fine layers with care and folded them crisply, a perfectly squared pile growing on the bench beside him as his body gradually revealed itself.
And the body being revealed, of course, was absolutely breathtaking.
Though he couldn't honestly say the task was particularly difficult, Ray always took care to keep him aware of this. He knew that Max occasionally mourned for the svelte figure he had relentlessly punished himself for in his earlier youth, but Ray couldn't say the same for himself.
To his eyes, Max had been beautiful then, and was spectacular now; the elegant lines of his body perfectly translated to elegant curves, a gloss to the hair and a rosiness to the skin that came with good meals and proper rest, a lush softness and abundance that made Ray yearn to get his mouth around him and take him in handfuls.
Unable to resist any longer, Ray cast his underthings aside and crept up behind Max, pressing his face into the warm flesh of his neck. Max shivered slightly at the light caress of his tongue, then reached around to take hold of one of Ray's braids, gently running his hand down its length.
"You're probably wanting to wash your hair... May I?"
Ray blushed as Max turned to face him, falling instantly into the thrall of those aqua-blue eyes.
"You may."
Max, too, found certain things difficult to resist. And to Ray, that—not the simple fact that Max was gorgeous in any shape—was the most difficult thing to believe. He always felt so plain beside him; a quiet, forgettable scrap of a thing, forever getting swallowed by shadows and slipping through cracks while Max blithely shone on like the sun.
And now it was pure delight that lit the haloed sunwheel of that perfect face, as he undid the ties at the ends of Ray's braids, running his fingers through the silky hair and smoothing out the crimped waves that had formed there over the course of the past day and night.
"There we are... Shall we?"
Ray nodded, his whole body tingling as Max's hands wandered upward, until they were lovingly stroking his scalp.
"Yeah. Let's."
And so, they left the changing room and slipped into the water, sighing in satisfaction as the ache and dust of their trip began to dissolve. Ray dunked his head, wetting his satiny hair and letting it float around him as he surfaced, regarding Max through the dreamy haze of steam.
His head was tipped back; eyes closed in contentment, golden waves of hair plastered to his broad shoulders. The heat was already turning his smooth skin a healthy petal-pink, and the sleek, water-glossed contours of his arms as they rested languidly on the side of the pool were a sight to behold.
Ray smiled as he let himself sink lazily into the bath.
Unforgettable.
~*~
Max lay sprawled on the bed, trying to focus on the fascinatingly juicy travelog he'd brought along to keep him entertained during the idle moments of his own travels, reading the same paragraph over and over again as he found his eyes ever returning to his husband.
Ah, my lovely scholar.
Ray was sitting cross-legged in the center of the mattress; draped like a small monk in a fluffy borrowed robe, his nose buried in a medical journal as though the dryness of the text could suck the lingering bathwater from his silken hair.
"...You're on vacation, Beloved. Why don't you put that thing down for a moment?"
Ray turned another page, the rustle of paper noisy in the tranquil quiet of the room.
"Technically, I'm on a work trip. I need to brush up on a few things before the Q and A at the conference."
Setting his book aside, Max wormed closer to the statue-like form of his studious lover, resting his head on his spare thigh and absent-mindedly rolling the ends of his long hair in his fingertips.
"If you say so... Hmm. Feels like your hair's finally dry."
Another quick turn of the page, a faint smile from on high as Ray ran his own fingers through the freshly-dried lengths.
"Just about."
Max smiled in return, flirtatiously twisting a single gossamer lock.
"...Dry enough to braid? Shall I put it up for you?"
Though Ray's eyes didn't leave the page, they softened beautifully as his back straightened in anticipation.
"Go right ahead."
Having gotten the answer he wanted, Max sat up excitedly, settled himself behind his husband's narrow back, and began gently finger-combing his long hair in preparation, thinking for the umpteenth time that his name fit him perfectly; that he was like a perfect sliver of light slipping through the drawn curtains of a dusty study, or pouring from a crack in the indigo sky after a heavy rain. A sublime scintilla of something warm and bright and exquisite, dazzling in its very briefness.
"I gather you're studying up on the... Intravenous herbalism?"
Though Max had read the pamphlet—studied the diagrams, puzzled at the grainy picture of the small, impish, hauntingly familiar woman who was apparently to be the head lecturer—it was a bit opaque to him; obviously written for medical professionals, and not the fortunate laypeople who happened to be married to them.
Ray yawned, lazily rolling the fine bones of his shoulders. Having his hair caressed had always made him feel sleepy and relaxed.
"Intravenous medicine and herbalism. Intravenous herbs would be a bit unsanitary, I think."
Max gave this some thought as he separated Ray's hair into two and then three, imagining ghastly syringes filled with ominous green slurry.
"Yes, I imagine so... You know, I never did much like needles."
Despite this dislike, Max was rather well-acquainted with them; having suffered with intermittent anemia since early adolescence, which required the occasional shot of iron or vitamins when he was feeling particularly listless.
It was a duty that Natalie was all too happy to pass on to her son the very instant she decided he was old enough.
"Well, I never liked giving them to you, so we're even."
Having no one to hand the duty off to when he tired of it, the loathsome task remained Ray's problem alone, until Max eventually felt so guilty that there was nothing to be done but face the fact that, rather than disciplining his body for beauty, he had merely been neglecting his health for crude vanity.
Though, even with the gift of hindsight, he still didn't think it could have been that bad.
"I was very well-behaved!"
Ray huffed irritatedly as he turned another page.
"You were squirmy."
Max smiled deviously as he pressed his face into the back of Ray's delicate neck; breathing hotly behind his ear, lovingly tonguing the elegantly protruding vertebrae at the juncture of his slight shoulders, feeling the soft fuzz at his nape with his lips.
"...Who was squirmy?"
As expected, Ray squirmed, sighing in a precious mix of exasperation and pleasure.
"Max..."
Barely able to contain his laughter—or his lust—Max whispered huskily into his lover's ear.
"...That's my name! Don't forget it!"
Then he tied off the first plait and flicked it over Ray's shoulder for inspection. Ray finally set his book aside and gave himself over fully to checking Max's work.
"Don't forget my other braid."
For whatever his opinion was worth, Max thought he was doing a rather splendid job. He had never done much with his own golden locks, besides making sure they were clean and well-brushed. But he had quick, clever pianist's hands, and a patient long-haired sister who was more than happy to teach him everything he needed to know.
Before starting on the second plait, Max paused to kiss a short path down Ray's neck and between the keen knife-edges of his shoulder blades.
"Wouldn't dream of it."
Ray let the robe slide fully from his shoulders, exposing his pale willow-switch back.
"...What do you dream of?"
Max was braiding all but blindly now, his eyes so taken with Ray and his mind so filled up with want that his hands had to go the final stretch alone, working frenetically in their haste to make the leap from hair to skin.
"Oh, many things."
When he finally finished, he flicked the second braid over Ray's shoulder, but Ray didn't even bother to look it over this time. Instead, he turned his head to look at Max.
"Such as?"
Hands free at last, Max laid his hands on Ray's waist, then let them explore where they would; marveling, as he always did, at how such a small, spare body could contain so many fascinating multitudes.
Ray's body was at once boyish and girlish, delicate and sturdy, bony and soft. He was narrow at both the shoulders and hips, and his lithe waist had an almost feminine inward curvature that was lovely to stroke and grab. Max kept a careful hold on that contour as he whispered into his husband's pink-tipped ear.
"...Shall I show you?"
Then he let go and allowed Ray to sprawl back on the bed, bare and willowy and gorgeous.
"If you could."
Max shrugged out of his own robe and pounced, hovering eagerly above his lover's body.
"...It may take all night."
With a breathless laugh, Ray arched his back and braced his hands on Max's flanks, holding on for dear life. It was a pleasantly familiar sort of touch, though one that occasionally made Max feel a bit self-conscious; of the breadth and softness of his body, the way it folded in on itself in places, its excessively complicated terrain in contrast to Ray's stark simplicity.
But tonight, his whole mind was given over to his lover's breathless answer.
"I'm fine with that."
Inwardly, Max wondered if all night could ever be enough.
~*~
Ray woke feeling groggy, sore, and not particularly well-rested. He and Max hadn't done all that much sleeping the previous night, and had indeed spent most of it contorting themselves and each other into a series of absurdly obscene positions.
His eyes were blurry, his hips ached, and he couldn't seem to stop yawning, but all in all, he had no regrets. And Max, if anything, greeted the morning with even less remorse; sleepy-eyed but bright and grandiose as ever, humming with an odd sly excitement.
Of course, it probably didn't hurt that he just so happened to have the cure for their malaise waiting for them in his pack.
"...A gift for our gracious host! Hopefully we'll get to enjoy a bit of it for ourselves as well."
With a flourish, he pulled a large, densely-packed paper sack of coffee beans from his luggage, giving its curled top a hearty sniff and shaking out his hair in delight. Ray couldn't help but smile as he watched the golden strands flutter and settle, sparkly and almost translucent in the bright morning sun.
"Keep doing that, and you probably won't even have to."
The pair got dressed in a hurry and slumped down the stairs, Ray trailing behind Max as he cheerily announced their presence and presented his cousin with the exotic gift of beans. Porcoline exclaimed over this treasure with his usual enthusiasm, and Ray chuckled quietly as he settled in at the table, feeling warm and grateful to be welcomed into this glowing fold of beautiful people who were almost entirely unlike his plain, serious self.
Eventually, Porcoline trundled off to brew the coffee and prepare a sumptuous breakfast, and Max sat down across from Ray at the table; yawning and stretching luxuriously, still smiling like he had a particularly juicy secret.
"...Today's a special day, you know!"
Ray nodded sleepily, propping his heavy head on his fist.
"Yep. It's Coffee Day."
In Alvarna, of course, every day was Coffee Day, provided one hadn't run out. But Porcoline's excitement was catching, and Ray found himself looking forward to the first bittersweet sip of the morning as if it were to be the first of his life.
Max's enthusiasm, however, was a little more mysterious. His stout frame was quivering like a papery leaf on the wind, and his bright teeth and hair reflected so much sunlight that Ray wanted to squint.
"No... Well, yes! But it's also the day of our special visit! Don't tell me you've forgotten?"
And squint he did, as much from skepticism as bedazzlement.
"Hard to forget something nobody's ever bothered to explain."
Coffee arrived, and Max blew on his steaming mug and took a careful sip, savoring the pure taste of the beans before adding just enough cream and sugar to round out the bitterness.
"Oh, that's good... It wouldn't be as much fun if I explained. You'll just have to meet them for yourself."
Ray—who would be the first to admit that his own palate was a bit less refined—simply mixed blindly until the mixture was cloud-pale and dessert-sweet.
"...That's what you said when your Uncle Sherman came over for dinner and I practically had to make a flowchart to understand what he was saying."
Max laughed nervously over his mug, eyes glazing as he recalled that thoroughly awkward evening.
"Okay... I admit you could have used a little more preparation for that one."
As he blew ripples into his milky coffee, Ray wondered what—if anything—he was trying to imply.
"But not this one?"
Max shrugged noncommittally as he took another pull from his mug.
"I've been told she's quite down-to-Earth."
Ray quirked a curious eyebrow at his grinning husband.
"'She,' huh? Some old lady friend of yours?"
Max's eyes glazed further, their vivid blue growing as hazy and mysterious as the autumn morning sky outside.
"It'll be my first time meeting her as well, actually. Hence my going on what I've been told."
His aspect was unusually soft and pensive, which Ray found both beautiful and vaguely ominous.
"Oh? You nervous?"
With a dismissive wave of his plump, graceful hand, the old incandescent Max had returned, at least to all appearances.
"Not hardly."
Ray rolled his eyes, a fond smile teasing at the corners of his mouth.
"Right..."
Though Max was rather highly-strung and anxious overall, this tendency seemed to leave his social life untouched. He was as effortlessly—if unconventionally—charming as he was comically oblivious, and on those frequent occasions when he made a right ass of himself, he seemed not to notice at all. He loved being the center of attention, and could easily talk for hours if allowed.
Sometimes, Ray envied him.
Other times, he found him exhausting to watch.
But mostly, he was grateful to have someone who was more than happy to do the talking for both of them.
And so, he let him talk.
Max carried the conversation all through the arrival of the French toast and fruit platter, and as Porcoline took his own seat with his mug; once again exclaiming over the coffee, which he drank strong and black, and in truly head-spinning quantities.
Ray sipped his sweet brew slowly, and sighed in relief as the morning's heaviness finally fizzled away.
~*~
Buzzing hectically with anticipation—and three cups of rich, strong coffee—Max bounced toward the center of town, with Ray following sedately behind. To keep himself from prematurely giving away the surprise, he let his tongue waggle busily about any unrelated topic that passed his mind.
"Flower shop and detective agency? Unusual business model... Perhaps we'll stop there on the way back and see what that's all about, buy some flowers to braid into your lovely hair, see if they can... Hmm. I don't believe I have any mysteries that need solving. What about you?"
Ray crossed his arms, as though girding himself against the unknown.
"Where on Earth you're taking me."
Max turned around grandly, walking backwards as he laid a reassuring hand on Ray's hunched shoulder.
"Wouldn't waste your coin on that one! You're about to find out!"
As the pair stepped into the open plaza, the regal turrets of the small Castle stretched into the cool blue sky, and Ray stopped dead in his tracks, gaping at the spires in disbelief.
"...You're introducing me to royalty?"
A giggly wave of anticipation crashed through Max's tightly-wound body, and he had to bite his tongue and collect himself so as not to spoil the surprise.
"In a sense..."
Ray warily studied his husband's expression, apparently not liking what he saw in the least.
"Max... I don't know about this. I'm not dressed for it, an-"
To Max, Ray looked exactly as he always did.
Which was to say, he looked exquisite; his clothes casual but prim, the colors muted and soft, the layers overlapping just so. His skirt fell exactly halfway down his knee-high boots, showing the neatly crossed laces as tidy and clinical as sutures. His open cardigan revealed a simple shirt with a breezy wide neckline, and that neckline revealed the porcelain complexity of his sharp clavicles and daintily corded neck.
Setting aside his vulgar personal urge to stick his tongue in the deep hollow at Ray's throat and undo the two mostly-ornamental buttons that adorned the collar, Max found the whole effect quite respectable.
"...Nonsense! You're a distinguished physician on holiday, and you look the part perfectly. She'll be honored to make your acquaintance."
Ray sighed, his shoulders sagging as he willed himself to relax.
"I just hope I don't do anything stupid."
Still walking backwards toward the Castle, Max pulled Ray in for an affectionate kiss on the forehead.
"I wouldn't worry about it... You mix well with the upper classes."
Though he'd previously been peering over Max's shoulder and watching where they were going for both of them, Ray soon settled gratefully into the embrace, burying his head in Max's collar and giggling into his ear.
"You mean I don't run screaming from your insane family."
Max laughed as well, full-throated and hearty.
"It's true! You do not! So this should be easy, hmm?"
Ray still looked a bit nervous, but his smile was genuine and warm.
"...Good point."
It was all too easy to get lost in the calm slate blue of his sparkling eyes, and Max did exactly that, until he suddenly backed into something solid and firm.
"Good sir! Mind where you're stepping!"
Upon finally turning around, Max realized the bulk at his back wasn't a wall or a tree, but a rather imposing man; taller and broader than himself, the lines of his great body as square and hard as his own were rounded and soft.
"Oh, my! Pardon me!"
The tall man straightened his jacket, his dignity seeming none the worse for wear.
"Let me guess... Mr. Porcoline's kin? Good day to you! I am Volkanon, the head Butler here."
Quickly recovering his own manners, Max boldly extended a hand.
"You guess correct, sir! Max de Sainte Coquille!"
The big man's handshake was hard and crisp, just as one would expect from the strapping head Butler of a royal household. With a courteous bow, he promptly led them into the entryway of the Castle.
"A pleasure to meet you! Come! Lady Ventuswill awaits!"
Ray—who had mostly spent this sudden introduction nearly catatonic with embarrassment—suddenly snapped to life, hissing nervously into Max's ear through clenched teeth.
"Lady Ventuswill!?"
Max grinned broadly, relieved that the secret was no longer his to guard.
"Surprise!"
Indeed, "surprise" was too gentle a word for the emotion that flashed across Ray's features.
Regrettably, it might have been more aptly described as dread.
"Max, that's... It was bad enough when I thought you were taking me to meet a Duchess or something, but this is-"
Afraid he might faint—or simply freeze where he stood—Max wound an arm around Ray's waist, gently supporting him and pulling him towards the sunlit atrium.
"...An Elder Dragon, yes. You did always want to meet one, remember?"
Before Max could begin to question his own judgement, Ray's expression softened slightly, the panic receding just enough to reveal a glittering core of amazement.
"I know I said that, but I didn't know it could actually happen."
At that, all Max could do was laugh.
"Have you forgotten how well-connected I am?"
Their group stepped into the atrium, and the Butler bent his great bulk in a reverent bow.
"M'Lady! Your guests have arrived!"
Somehow, Lady Ventuswill was even grander than anticipated; towering magnificently, shining like jade and emeralds in the sun, her feathers glossy and her eyes kind. When she spoke, her voice filled the room like thunder.
"And so they have! My... You are Porcoline's cousin, aren't you?"
Feeling uncharacteristically shy, Max bravely stepped towards her platform, bowing much as her Butler had done.
"Max de Sainte-Coquille! Do take care to remember it! Well met, Lady Ventuswill of the Divine Wind."
To his surprise, she bowed a bit as well, head bobbing on her serpentine neck.
"Well met! Are you also in the restaurant trade?"
Max laughed nervously, for once feeling as though he had nothing especially interesting to say for himself.
"I am something of an epicurean. But by profession, I fear I'm little more than a dilettante, and one among my family's heirs... My husband here is the respectable one. He is a doctor."
He laid a hand on Ray's tense, narrow back and gently walked him forward. Ventuswill looked him up and down with interest, then chuckled as though at some private joke.
"A doctor? No fear of blood, I hope."
Ray mumbled and looked at the floor, like a gawky teenager who had been asked about his plans for the future by a relative he hadn't seen in years.
"I'm fine with blood, I gue-"
Though his shyness was understandable, Max was acutely aware that this behavior would not do, and gave him a gentle nudge.
"...Greet her properly!"
Immediately, Ray stood up straight and cleared his throat, enunciating clearly and craning his neck to look the Elder Dragon in the eye.
"Right. Where's my mind... Greetings, M'Lady. My name is Ray."
He gave a crisp little bow, and both of them relaxed visibly.
"Greetings! I've heard my kind interests you."
Ray shrugged, averting his eyes with a sweetly nervous smile.
"S'pose so."
Lady Ventuswill nodded knowingly.
"Well, that follows. We're both stewards of the living world, and I imagine that gives us much in common."
The suggestion that he had anything in common with such a sublime creature turned Ray's cheeks bright red, and Max had to fight the urge to grab him and kiss him, right there in front of the Divine Wind herself.
"Oh, I wouldn-"
The regal Elder Dragon craned her neck downward to level her gaze with Ray.
"...It's taxing and important work, isn't it?"
He nodded once, his reply a breathless whisper.
"Yes."
Ventuswill smiled with all the warmth a reptile could manage.
"So let's take a rest. What would you like to discuss?"
Apparently unsure of what else to do, Ray paused for a moment, then sat down cross-legged on the floor. Max soon followed, leaning back against the cool marble of the wall, his ears open and his mouth restfully closed.
For once, he decided to let Ray do the talking.
~*~
Though they had enjoyed the sweet French toast at breakfast and the buttery shortbread cookies they had dunked into their tea at the Castle, these delicacies had left Max and Ray craving something simple and savory for lunch, and Porcoline was more than happy to accommodate; spinach salads tossed in a light tart dressing and topped with crisp portions of grilled salmon, with slices of golden garlic toast on the side.
The pair and their host munched away happily, laughing and telling anecdotes while Margaret plucked along on her lute at the back of the room, providing a merry soundtrack to their meal. As expected, Max and Porcoline thoroughly dominated the conversation, though there was an exhilaratingly awkward interlude where they allowed Ray to hold court and explain his upcoming conference, giving their ever-busy mouths a break to quietly chew.
Toward the end of the meal, however, Max began to grow distracted and fidgety.
Ray couldn't help but find this slightly odd. Despite his restlessness, Max had always been one to focus almost meditatively on his pleasures; listening to records with his head tipped back and his eyes closed, lounging in the courtyard and letting the sun turn his hair an even brighter gold, lingering decadently over his meals.
Of course, it all made sense when Ray realized he was looking at the piano.
"...Itchy fingers, Max?"
Max speared the last of the dark green leaves on his fork, apparently having decided on the remaining scrap of salmon as his final morsel.
"Would you mind terribly if I played a bit when we're finished?"
Ray shrugged over his empty plate, feeling somewhat envious of his lover's ability to savor things. He was used to short lunch breaks and snacks eaten over piles of charts and papers, so his approach to food was somewhat terse and mindless.
"No, but it's not my piano."
Porcoline—who had long since inhaled his meal and moved on to boredly nibbling at the extra bread—suddenly hopped up from his seat, waving as he called brightly across the room.
"...Yoo-hoo! Meggy, dear!"
Margaret's hands stilled on her lute strings, a nervous but amused smile flickering across her fine Elven features.
"Yes?"
Pausing to pop a crust of bread into his mouth, Porcoline laid a proud hand on Max's shoulder, gesturing in his broad flamboyant way.
"Your playing is marvelous today as usual, and I'd be loath to disrupt it, but may my cousin here accompany you on piano for a few moments?"
A faint pink blush spread all the way to the tips of her pointed ears, but Margaret quickly regained composure, her hands steady and sure on her instrument all the while.
"Oh... No, I don't mind. Just sit down and give us a rhythm!"
Having eaten the last of his salmon, Max stood from the bench and gave her a cordial bow.
"Gladly."
Margaret giggled, then plucked her lute pointedly.
"Make it good, okay!"
Max left his jacket on the back of his chair and rolled his shirtsleeves up to the elbow, freeing the heavy grace of his arms for music. Ray propped his chin in his hands and settled in, smiling dreamily in anticipation as Max took his place at the bench and laid his careful hands on the keys.
Oh, it'll be good all right.
The first notes chimed, achingly beautiful and clear.
But even so, they paled in comparison to the way Max looked when he played.
It was yet another pleasure that he drank in sumptuously, his faint blissful smile and far-away half-closed eyes gorgeously reminiscent of the aspect he took on in the bedroom. The smooth, cushioned surface of his forearms rippled slightly as the tendons beneath flexed and twitched like holy machinery, driving the precise motions of his fingers as he gave Margaret a very good rhythm indeed. She followed it ably, the lute and piano shadowing and reflecting one another like a starry sky mirrored in a choppy, shimmering lake.
At first, Ray thought Max was only showing off when he began playing one-handed, and nearly rolled his eyes. But it soon became apparent that he was only freeing a hand to wave.
"Come sit beside me, my muse!"
Ray flushed red hot but reluctantly stood and approached the bench, with Porcoline muttering merrily—"Oh, how marvelous! The romance! Simply delightful!"—behind him all the while. Max played one-handed for a moment more, so as to pull Ray close as he sat down. Then he placed both hands on the keys again, playing out the remainder of the song as Ray leaned against him and listened to it ringing in his bones.
The melody wound down to a stop, and Margaret sighed in satisfaction, taking a moment to stretch her fingers.
"...Not bad!"
Max shrugged and smiled magnanimously, a gesture that almost passed for humility.
"Oh, I'm no virtuoso... I suspect good accompaniment was doing a lot of the work here."
Margaret was blushing again, hands fluttering nervously as she slung her lute onto her back.
"Thanks... Well... It seems like I almost missed my own lunch break, so I'm going to go have a slice of pie and a little of that coffee. Feel free to keep playing, though!"
With a quick wave, she trotted off toward the kitchen, trailing ribbons in her wake.
Once Margaret was out of earshot, Max let the giggle he'd been holding in escape.
"...I think she might like me."
This time, Ray did roll his eyes.
"Max... Everyone likes you."
Though he sometimes didn't quite seem to believe it, Max really did turn heads just about everywhere they went. He was possessed of an intrinsic, undeniable sort of beauty; the beauty of a full moon, or an old cathedral, or a view of lush rolling hills. There was a swooping, golden grandeur to him that one couldn't help but get lost in.
And so, Ray let himself get lost.
He lost himself in how every sunbeam in the room seemed to catch in his hair and get stuck, and the slight wave towards the ends that perfectly complemented the slope of his shoulders. His smooth rosy skin and soft, shapely jawline. The way the voluptuous curve of his belly filled out his perfectly-tailored waistcoat. Those beautiful gold-fuzzed arms, and those hands.
Ray took one of them in both of his with a self-important smile, sitting up a little straighter on the bench.
He felt as though he were holding the moon on a leash.
~*~
"Thanks for bringing me here."
With some effort, Max tore his eyes away from the scope and looked down at his feet, where his husband sat with his slender arms crossed on the observatory's railing, his legs dangling free from the edge in their fluttering skirt and knee-high boots.
"It's no trouble at all. I made a promise to myself after the wedding that I would endeavor to see my extended family more often."
Ray huffed out a terse laugh.
"Sounds like you'll be busy."
Max peered through the scope again, sweeping his gaze across bright autumn leaves and snow-capped peaks, eager to see it all.
"Yes, but happily so."
He trained the lenses on a particularly large and vivid tree, with well-worn dirt roads fanning out from its roots. Following them one by one, he eventually spotted—though it was distant and half-hidden by foliage—the roof of the comparatively modest mansion where his Uncle Sherman lived with his daughters.
...Next time, perhaps.
Ray, for his part, was gazing pensively at nothing in particular.
"I imagine. It's always just been me and my mom and sister, so I can have trouble getting my head around your situation sometimes."
Max glanced down from the scope again, with a bright laugh and a fond smile.
"Well! Good thing you've married a man with cousins enough for the both of us, then!"
Though the smile that tilted Ray's narrow mouth was as understated and shy as ever, a vague playfulness sparkled dryly in his voice.
"...Which ones do you want me to take off your hands?"
Leaving the scope behind, Max took a seat beside his husband on the worn wooden balcony, crossing his legs neatly so he wouldn't have to think about the void beneath his feet.
"Oh, they're all lovely people..."
Ray held up a sharp, authoritative finger.
"Statistically unlikely."
Max laughed nervously as he felt a thorny little memory pricking the back of his mind.
"...Well, Bianca did call me a blatherskite once. Never quite got over that."
He decided it was probably best not to mention the part where he had retaliated by calling her a vituperator, a slight for which Bianca likely nursed a mild grudge of her own.
Ray seemed to think hard for a moment, then turned to Max with a slippery smirk.
"I remember... I believe you blathered on about it for days."
Max threw an arm around Ray's shoulders, catching him in something halfway between a hug and a headlock.
"Oh, hush, you!"
His slight shoulders were quaking; with laughter, and what Max soon realized was probably cold.
"What? Am I blathering?"
Max sighed wearily as he shucked off his jacket, draping it over Ray's huddled form and pulling him close again.
"Honestly, Love... Here you are. Is that better?"
Ray gratefully wrapped the fine sky-blue fabric around himself, and Max couldn't help but notice him giving the collar a good appreciative sniff.
"Yeah. But what about you?"
By way of reassurance, Max grinned and clapped a hand on his own fleshy bicep.
"I'm not the wilting flower I once was. I can handle a bit of chill air."
And Ray was reassured, or at least seemed to be, the concern on his face giving way to a wistful, amused smile.
"...Remember that jacket you always used to wear? Even in summer?"
Max remembered it well. What he couldn't remember, however, was what exactly he'd been protecting himself from, or why protection had been so important in those days.
"Yes, and I'll admit to missing it... I dare say you look better in it than I ever did, though."
Usually, it was the differences between them that Max found most striking; himself golden and his husband silvery, the obvious contrasts in speech and size.
But on these rare occasions, he was struck by their small but uncanny similarities.
Their disparate colorings were somehow flattered by the same soft blue tones. Both their hands were slightly rough and dry from frequent scrubbings. Neither had ever looked quite right with short hair. They even smelled alike now, from using the same soap and sleeping in the same bed.
Max looked on in wonder as Ray huddled deeper into the borrowed jacket, his eyes seeming to turn a mellow violet-grey.
"Well, Cecilia did a good job hemming it up. Too bad I never have anywhere to wear it."
And just like that, their differences had asserted themselves once more.
"I wore it everywhere, and you have full permission to do the same... But if you need an occasion, I can always create one."
In what was for him an oddly theatrical gesture, Ray languidly rolled his eyes.
"Don't I know it."
Max responded in kind with an equally theatrical gasp.
"Whatever is that supposed to mean!?"
Ray affectionately nuzzled into Max's neck, then tilted up to whisper into his ear.
"...Quit blathering."
Anything he could have said in protest would have only proved Ray's point, so Max allowed himself to be silenced with a kiss.
~*~
Ray had his hands on Max's collar almost as soon as they retired to their room for the night, hastily undoing the elegant pearl buttons before either of them could even think to begin changing for bed.
Max, for his part, seemed amenable to this, if slightly amused.
"...Eager tonight, are we?"
Having already plunged his face into the lush crook of Max's neck, Ray drew back to regard his husband quizzically.
"You're not?"
As if to prove it, Max pulled Ray's cardigan from his shoulders, then undid the button of his skirt so it fell unceremoniously about his ankles.
"Well, yes... But you are acting like a wild beast."
Ray paused to step out of the strewn skirt and peel off his shirt, though he kept his eyes fixed hungrily on Max's open collar.
"Only because you've made me into one."
This, of course, had likely been the intent; another session at the piano after dinner, holding Ray's eyes as he rolled up his sleeves once again, keeping a confident hand on the small of his back whenever it wasn't busy on the keys.
It had all worked its magic, and it seemed Max had only just begun.
"Very well, then. Savage me."
With a wry laugh, Max fell dramatically onto the bed, his golden mane fanning out messily on the sheets. And Ray—feeling suddenly bashful and silly—fell right along with him.
"I'll do my best."
Max smirked up at him bemusedly.
"...None of that, now. Wild things act on their instincts alone!"
Ray huffed in mock annoyance, his body already poised to go for the neck again.
"Fine."
But before he had a chance to pounce, Max gently held him back with a firm hand on his scrawny solar plexus.
"...Please don't get your boots on the bed."
Grateful that Max's fastidious ways had made him aware of his rather absurd attire—naked save for his underthings and shoes—Ray hurriedly perched on the edge of the bed and began undoing his laces.
"Hey. I'm a wild animal, remember? I don't know any better."
Max gazed up at the ceiling thoughtfully as he kicked off his own shiny dress shoes, letting them drop noisily to the floor.
"...Makes one wonder why you're wearing shoes in the first place."
Knowing Max, this aside could easily turn into a philosophical dissertation if allowed to go any further, so Ray immediately straddled him, sealing his mouth with a kiss.
"Okay. We're getting off track here."
Max went suddenly, blissfully quiet, his whole body relaxing luxuriously.
"Sorry."
And so, Ray got to work again; quickly undoing Max's waistcoat before returning to his collar, panting hotly into his neck as he traveled downward, exposing the soft expanse of his chest, with its smooth skin and glittering thatch of flaxen hair.
Though he could have spent the rest of the night sucking and nibbling at Max's lush shoulders and neck, Ray made himself sit up and take it all in, breathing like he'd just run a marathon and struggling to find the correct words for what he beheld.
"Gods, Max, you're so..."
Blushing furiously under the heat of Ray's gaze, Max let out a nervous little laugh.
"...Rotund?"
Ray laughed as well, burying his fists in Max's thick hair as he leaned down to shower him with worshipful, reassuring kisses.
"Well, I was going to say 'perfect." 'Gorgeous.' But you know they're not mutually exclusive, right?"
Max bucked and shivered beneath him, holding onto Ray's hips so as not to be thrown clear out of himself by passion.
"So you've said."
For a fleeting second, Ray felt ridiculous, and almost embarrassed. There was so much of Max to love and hold on to, and he had so little to offer in return; so little flesh to grip in one's hands or teeth, nothing to grab save for the slender lengths of bones and braids.
But Max held on well.
Moreover, he made Ray feel like he was worth holding.
His hands—somewhat dry, but gentle and sure—trailed up and down Ray's body as he undid the last few buttons of his shirt, then slid his own hands up under Max's undershirt, pressing desperately into his warm soft flanks.
"Could you sit up so I ca-"
Max sat up gracefully, freeing his arms from his unbuttoned shirt and waistcoat.
"Of course."
He peeled off his undershirt, hair drifting around his face like a wispy golden nimbus. Ray began kissing at his neck again as he gently eased him back down onto the bed.
"Thanks."
Then he began to work his way down, hands firmly gripping Max's fleshy hips as his lips and tongue made their way down the luscious curves of his body, stopping only to tease with his teeth or savor the velvety softness against his cheeks. Max's skin was silky and well-kept, and the faint silvery striae decorating the curve of his lower belly echoed the brocade pattern of his waistcoat, as though his very flesh was part of a well-chosen outfit.
Once again, it was difficult not to feel a little plain.
But somewhere in the throes of lust, Max had undone one of his braids and wound the strands around his fingers, which served to remind him that he had at least one crowning glory to his name.
As Max busied himself untying the other braid, Ray got started on Max's trousers and belt, freeing his lower half with a chiming clatter of metal, eager to get his hands and mouth on those strong, plush thighs. He ran his tongue along the smooth inner contour, and felt Max's hands close into fists at his scalp.
"If you keep at this... Ray, I might not last very long."
Indeed, when he pulled down Max's underthings, it became apparent that they were both almost painfully hard.
"That's fine. I won't either."
Max gasped as Ray tongued the cleft of his thigh and groin.
"I suppose we could always start again."
All but drunk on his lover's warm clean skin and shuddering pleasure, Ray gripped Max's hips ever harder as he sucked livid purple marks into Max's soft inner thighs.
"...If I don't wear you out, you mean."
As Max quivered and gasped, Ray caught sight of the subtle shiver that ran through the soft hillock of his lower belly, and all but lost control.
"Yes, if... Ah!"
It was the fleshiest part of his body—and among the most sensitive—so the sudden presence of Ray's mouth there seemed to catch Max a bit off guard. But he quickly relaxed into pleasure, and he had asked to be savaged, so Ray worked at the soft skin below his navel for a few moments longer, then eased his way down to take him in his mouth.
Max's breath hitched sharply, and he could already tell that it would, indeed, be short. But to him, that was all the more reason to savor the moment as it happened; the pulse between his lips, the hands in his hair, the lusty rolling motions of the plump hips.
Before long, it all reached a crescendo, and ended in a sudden burst of heat.
Ray swallowed hard and fell back gasping, his head pillowed on Max's comfortable thigh. He closed his eyes and listened to his lover's heavy, sated breath, letting the simple joy of being where he was settle into his bones.
Tomorrow, they would get back on the airship and set off for the Capitol. Ray would sit in the big echoing lecture hall of the medical college, and Max would amuse himself downtown, gathering more than enough souvenirs and anecdotes for the both of them. There would be another room, another bed, and eventually the long trip home.
But for now, they were here; Ray with his hair tangled and undone, Max's love-bitten flesh looking as though he'd just lost a fight with a Kraken, neither of them wanting for anything or anyone else.
After a few minutes of inchoate bliss, Max slowly came back to himself, his hand absent-mindedly running through the lengths of Ray's hair.
"...Your turn?"
Though he was starving for release, Ray found himself settling deeper into the familiar warmth of Max's body, smiling to himself at how perfectly they always seemed to fit together.
"In a minute."