FM station on the outskirts | aegean

[aegean]

Aegean

I should have loved a thunderbird instead
at least when spring comes they roar back again

The contradictions of his relationship with Pteron have never escaped Aegean, even though he has never felt any great desire to examine them too closely. The way that he can feel so comfortable with the pegasus and yet feel that sudden thrill at a touch that should be familiar and known. The way that he can hold him so close and love watching him from afar. How his heart pines and longs for him, even as she studies the most well-visited grooves of him, learning the same patterns and finding the same joy in it.

He gladly presses in closer to Pteron’s side, feeling the weight of the wing drape over him. With his same dreamy gaze, he paints further illusions in front of them, pinpricks of light that drop from the sky as if the stars are raining down. They glow and splatter on the ground, illuminating the area around them to reveal only just a touch more darkness. He presses fire into them so that the flames lick the sky and he feels the barest hint of warmth, the illusion playing with his sense of touch ever so slightly. It is not anything real, and he knows it would not fend of any true frostbite, but there is still comfort in the lie.

Smiling, content with his work, he smiles as presses a kiss to Pteron’s muscled neck, his chiseled jaw. “Not forever,” he answers, although the darkness does feel infinite from this moment in time. “Darkness so rarely does.” Another pause, wondering of their children and the children to come. Knowing that there are deeper and crueler things out in the shadows than simply the absence of light.

“You should not carry the weight of it all,” he murmurs as he pushes his forelock back.

“Not even your shoulders are so strong.”

I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

@[Pteron]