[fill] Safe
Title: Safe
Game: Fire Emblem: Path of Radiance
Word Count: 791
Prompt: Tibarn/Reyson - under the shelter of your wings
Warning: Smut
The last thing he remembered was the ballista firing and Ike shouting for him to get out of the way. Then, indescribable pain before everything went dark. When he opened his eyes it seemed like days had passed and he was only vaguely aware of where he was.
"Good, you're awake." Reyson's vision slowly came into focus. Tan and brown, soft and familiar. Tibarn. He moved to sit up a little and was relieved to find he actually could, aside from a bit of stiffness.
"How long have I been asleep?" he asked. "How did I survive that...?"
"Ike caught you before you hit the ground," Tibarn said. "Rhys and Mist fixed you up as best they could and I brought you back to Phoenicis."
"Phoenicis? But-"
"Ike insisted." Tibarn shifted slightly, tucking his wings more securely around him. "He feels awful that you were hurt in the first place and he didn't want to chance something worse happening next time." Reyson sighed. He was grateful to Ike for being so reasonable, but part of him couldn't help feeling he'd let him down.
"I guess I was just a burden to them after all." Tibarn shook his head.
"If you were, he'd have let you crash," he said. "He was so glad I got there in time to catch you...and so was I." Strong fingers brushed the hair away from his cheek, wings tightening even more around him. "I told the healers not to let you wake up until you were fully healed. Your wing's still a little weak, though, so you shouldn't try to fly for a while." Reyson nodded, leaning his head against Tibarn's chest.
"Thank you," he murmured. "You've always been here for me, haven't you? Taking in Father and I after the massacre, stopping me from using the forbidden magic...and now this." He closed his eyes, breathing in Tibarn's scent, feeling the strength of the wings wrapped so protectively around him. "Thank you, Tibarn. Truly, I..."
"I know." Tibarn's lips brushed his own; each knew how the other felt to the point where certain words didn't need to be said aloud. "Don't ever scare me like that again, okay? I know you hate being fussed over, but I didn't save your life all those years ago just for you to throw it away." His feathers brushed Reyson's cheek, and Reyson couldn't help but smile in spite of himself.
"When you put it that way, I guess I can't argue," he said.
"Good." Their lips brushed together again, and this time Reyson held the kiss longer, deepening it, reaching up to run his fingers through Tibarn's hair. Tibarn, who'd done so much for him, taken care of him, been there for him...suddenly he needed Tibarn, needed to show him just how grateful he was. He deepened the kiss still, pushing forward until Tibarn leaned back against the pillows.
"Reyson, are you sure...? I wouldn't want to make you sore again."
"You never have before." Reyson stripped the hawk's coat away from him and unbuttoned his pants, pushing them down. "I'm not made of glass, Tibarn, and I'd like not to have to remind you every time." His own clothes fell to the floor beside Tibarn's coat.
"Ah, I know." Tibarn laughed. "Trust me, I know." And Reyson smiled, pulling him in for another rough kiss as he straddled him. No matter how rough he demanded Tibarn be with him, he always felt safe, knew Tibarn would never actually hurt him. It was a delicate balance of trust and care between them, one forged from years of trials and learning to understand each other. Tibarn's hands and feathers stroked his chest, his hips, the insides of his thighs before reaching for the small pot of balm; Reyson shivered in anticipation as cool, slick fingers stretched him.
"Now."
Tibarn thrust up into him and the dance began. Slow, powerful, thick, warm, comforting yet energizing. Heated kisses, fingers and feathers exploring, touching; Reyson moved to trail the feathers of his uninjured wing along one of the hawk's scars, earning a groan and a particularly hard thrust. He loved those scars, and he was the only one allowed to touch them. He stroked it again, and Tibarn grunted; he was close now, and Reyson wasn't too far behind. Release! It was glorious, and when the tremors faded Reyson sank against the hawk's chest, enveloped in those strong wings once again.
"Guess it's my turn to thank you," Tibarn laughed. Reyson smiled, letting his eyes fall closed again. Warm. Safe. Strong. Tibarn. Perhaps thank you was just a formality, as unnecessary as certain words between them. He would always make Tibarn feel needed, and Tibarn would always make him feel safe, and they would always be grateful.
He drifted back to sleep, Tibarn's wings shielding him from the cool evening air.
Game: Fire Emblem: Path of Radiance
Word Count: 791
Prompt: Tibarn/Reyson - under the shelter of your wings
Warning: Smut
The last thing he remembered was the ballista firing and Ike shouting for him to get out of the way. Then, indescribable pain before everything went dark. When he opened his eyes it seemed like days had passed and he was only vaguely aware of where he was.
"Good, you're awake." Reyson's vision slowly came into focus. Tan and brown, soft and familiar. Tibarn. He moved to sit up a little and was relieved to find he actually could, aside from a bit of stiffness.
"How long have I been asleep?" he asked. "How did I survive that...?"
"Ike caught you before you hit the ground," Tibarn said. "Rhys and Mist fixed you up as best they could and I brought you back to Phoenicis."
"Phoenicis? But-"
"Ike insisted." Tibarn shifted slightly, tucking his wings more securely around him. "He feels awful that you were hurt in the first place and he didn't want to chance something worse happening next time." Reyson sighed. He was grateful to Ike for being so reasonable, but part of him couldn't help feeling he'd let him down.
"I guess I was just a burden to them after all." Tibarn shook his head.
"If you were, he'd have let you crash," he said. "He was so glad I got there in time to catch you...and so was I." Strong fingers brushed the hair away from his cheek, wings tightening even more around him. "I told the healers not to let you wake up until you were fully healed. Your wing's still a little weak, though, so you shouldn't try to fly for a while." Reyson nodded, leaning his head against Tibarn's chest.
"Thank you," he murmured. "You've always been here for me, haven't you? Taking in Father and I after the massacre, stopping me from using the forbidden magic...and now this." He closed his eyes, breathing in Tibarn's scent, feeling the strength of the wings wrapped so protectively around him. "Thank you, Tibarn. Truly, I..."
"I know." Tibarn's lips brushed his own; each knew how the other felt to the point where certain words didn't need to be said aloud. "Don't ever scare me like that again, okay? I know you hate being fussed over, but I didn't save your life all those years ago just for you to throw it away." His feathers brushed Reyson's cheek, and Reyson couldn't help but smile in spite of himself.
"When you put it that way, I guess I can't argue," he said.
"Good." Their lips brushed together again, and this time Reyson held the kiss longer, deepening it, reaching up to run his fingers through Tibarn's hair. Tibarn, who'd done so much for him, taken care of him, been there for him...suddenly he needed Tibarn, needed to show him just how grateful he was. He deepened the kiss still, pushing forward until Tibarn leaned back against the pillows.
"Reyson, are you sure...? I wouldn't want to make you sore again."
"You never have before." Reyson stripped the hawk's coat away from him and unbuttoned his pants, pushing them down. "I'm not made of glass, Tibarn, and I'd like not to have to remind you every time." His own clothes fell to the floor beside Tibarn's coat.
"Ah, I know." Tibarn laughed. "Trust me, I know." And Reyson smiled, pulling him in for another rough kiss as he straddled him. No matter how rough he demanded Tibarn be with him, he always felt safe, knew Tibarn would never actually hurt him. It was a delicate balance of trust and care between them, one forged from years of trials and learning to understand each other. Tibarn's hands and feathers stroked his chest, his hips, the insides of his thighs before reaching for the small pot of balm; Reyson shivered in anticipation as cool, slick fingers stretched him.
"Now."
Tibarn thrust up into him and the dance began. Slow, powerful, thick, warm, comforting yet energizing. Heated kisses, fingers and feathers exploring, touching; Reyson moved to trail the feathers of his uninjured wing along one of the hawk's scars, earning a groan and a particularly hard thrust. He loved those scars, and he was the only one allowed to touch them. He stroked it again, and Tibarn grunted; he was close now, and Reyson wasn't too far behind. Release! It was glorious, and when the tremors faded Reyson sank against the hawk's chest, enveloped in those strong wings once again.
"Guess it's my turn to thank you," Tibarn laughed. Reyson smiled, letting his eyes fall closed again. Warm. Safe. Strong. Tibarn. Perhaps thank you was just a formality, as unnecessary as certain words between them. He would always make Tibarn feel needed, and Tibarn would always make him feel safe, and they would always be grateful.
He drifted back to sleep, Tibarn's wings shielding him from the cool evening air.