[private] leaving all my past and silhouettes up on the wall; svedka

[Pteron]

and since you’re the only one that matters,----------------
----------------tell me: who do i run to?

Speaking of Aegean has unknotted the tangle of discomfort in his chest, his name and the verbalization of Pteron’s feelings for him clearing away any chance of secrets. That is good, Pteron tells himself. He had not spoken of Aegean soon enough to Reia, or quickly enough of his marriage with Reia to Aquaria. Hesitation has given him nothing but hurt in the past, and he feels better for having done so. Pteron thinks of his sleeping lover, safe beneath the moonlight, and smiles as Svedka tugs playfully at a blue strand of his hair.

The name seems to give pause to his companion, and Pteron tilts his head curiously even as he describes the other.

But Svedka only laughs, a quiet sound like distant thunder, and asks if that makes Pteron the sun.

“So he has said,” Pteron replies, the words softened by Svedka’s touch. Something feels strange (though surely it is not the way his skin quivers where Svedka touches him or the way he reaches back, his blue mouth pressing briefly against the other’s jaw). “Though I find it hard to believe.” He will ask Aeagean about it in the morning, Pteron decides, he seems the sort to be good at solving puzzles. For now though, he brushes it aside to listen to Svedka’s answer, only to discover that the other stallion already has the answer.

“You are family!” Pteron exclaims with a laugh. Perhaps a little too loud, for a resting dove shifts suspiciously on her perch as the pair of stallions pass beneath her. “That explains your good looks,” He tells the other, have quieted his voice without losing any of the amusement that sparkles in his olive eyes. “Aegean will be thrilled,” Pteron tells him, chivvying Svedka with soft nips to his shoulder. This easy affection feels good, and knowing that Svedka is more than a stranger makes it all the better.

“If you stay till the morning, I’ll introduce you.” The dun stallion promises as he reaches the gully. He’s over it with a quick flap of his wings, but turns to look back at Svedka. “Then you can both compare me to the sun and see how apt the description.” How wrong the description is, he does not say, unaware of the brightness of his smile and the mischief that dances in his eyes even in the darkness. If Svedka means to stay that long, there are a good many ways Pteron can think of to break up the monotony of patrol. One of those ways had resulted in a surprising swell of his lover’s belly though, and Pteron makes a note to avoid that particular amusement.

There are other things to do with a handsome not-so-stranger, after all, even when he must also keep an eye out for danger.

@[Svedka]

-- pteron --