I should have loved a thunderbird instead
at least when spring comes they roar back again
Aegean does not question the magic that makes this possible. He has never questioned such things. He was born into the world, sheltered and ushered by dreams. He was given a death sentence and then the immortality to outweigh it and, later, when the word began to form into concrete reality around him, he was gifted the ability to bend it to his whim. That his conjurings are merely illusions painted against that concrete matters little to him. They are his truth and he lives within the whimsy of them daily.
So the fact that the world has once again bent to dreams, giving him back Pteron and then providing him with the option of carrying their children, does not surprise him in the least.
It is the natural evolution of his life.
He stirs gently when he feels Pteron’s lips against the curve of his neck and his own lips tilt upward in the corner. It is a dreamy smile, Aegean still trapped within the gossamer of his imaginings, and he does not yet open his purple eyes to pull himself from it completely. He makes a soft noise in the back of his throat as he stretches slightly, feeling the weight of their children sink deep within him. It is uncomfortable, but not so much that he regrets it. After all, it is just a temporary discomfort before so much joy.
“Good morning,” he finally responds, his voice deeper than usual, unsticking from his throat like honey. When he does open his eyes, they are clear and soft as they take in the handsome lines of Pteron. He traces over the angles and curves gently, studying them as he does every morning. “You know that I would follow you anywhere.” Aegean has never truly anchored himself anywhere, even in his youth. He has had ties to places—more so to the people there—but he has never found himself a perfect home.
“My mothers?” There is surprise that breaks through the question and it clears some of the sleep from his voice, but he doesn’t make a move to right himself or stand once more. He just inclines his antlered head slightly. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen them.” In his dreams, he sees them often, and he has been known to conjure their likening, but not their true selves. He was just a boy when he had.
But his thoughts are interrupted once more.
His lips press together in thought and his eyes warm at the amused smile that curls Pteron’s lips. “My uncle? Have you met him? I haven’t.” He has so much family out there, he knows, and he has only barely scratched the surface. Perhaps there was a drawback to living so much in his own head.
“I couldn’t imaging something that would make my mothers more happy than that.”
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead
(I think I made you up inside my head.)
@[Pteron]