Blackfeather Woods i'm wide-eyed and it's midnight

and all i see is you

Zephyr has always been restless at night. Usually it's easy enough to melt into @Phillip's arms and keep himself planted until the sun starts to rise, if only for the uninterrupted cuddle time — but not tonight. He'd slipped away from his love in the early evening hours, murmuring about his restlessness and promising to return by morning. It's a decision he's been regretting ever since, but he hasn't wanted to disturb the dark boy's sleep. He's so fragile, Zephyr can't imagine depriving him of anything he needs, for fear he'll wilt like a flower left in the dark too long.
But the hours pass, and the wraith grows colder and lonelier, and eventually this feeling draws him back to the boy who holds the only parts of his heart that he can still bear to give. He approaches carefully, nosing his way between Phillip's forelegs with gentle, persistent movements. After a little wiggling and adjusting, he manages to tuck himself into his favorite spot — shoulders against the dark boy's chest, head pressed into the curve of his neck, one foreleg draped over him. Phillip, His voice is soft, half a whine, and he reaches up to lick his chin. Phiiillliiippppp. He draws his name out this time, nuzzling into him with renewed affection. He wants his attention now, and he's determined to get it, even if it's half-asleep attention.

When he watched Zephyr’s form disappear into the darkness earlier that night, Phillip assured himself he could handle some time spent alone. I must, he thought as he tried to find a comfortable position to rest in. His friend (lover? he’d yet to decide what to call him now) needed some time to himself, and he’d respect that. But no matter how many times he reassured himself that night, he found it difficult to go to sleep again. It just didn’t feel right without Zephyr to keep him warm. Everytime he was moments away from slumber, his eyes would fly open and he’d check the sky for any hint of sunlight. It’d always be pitch black. Exhaustion would get the best of him eventually.

Phillip woke up to the sound of his name, a kiss, and a nuzzle. I’m awake, he whispered. Barely. The warmth was almost enough to put him back to sleep, but he was too happy to see Zephyr to let that happen. Phillip pressed his face against his and smiled.

ngl zeplip has me listening to troye sivan now

A sleepy response, as he'd expected, but soft and full of warmth. It's exactly what he's looking for right now, and there's a small thrill in receiving what he needs in the moment so completely. He closes his eyes and presses more firmly against Phillip, silent for a moment. Hi, He murmurs, and then — I've been thinking about you all night. So much, in fact, that even being pressed against him doesn't quite feel like enough. He wants to be closer. He shifts away slightly, then, suddenly shy in tone and demeanor. Have you ever um... been with anyone? That's probably not clear enough for Phillip, he thinks, and rushes to add, Like, sex. It isn't smooth at all, but Zephyr never is.

Y-you were? His cheeks began to warm up. Y’know, I was trying to sleep the whole time, but it was kind sorta hard without you around. And now that he was here Phillip didn’t want to sleep. Oh well, he’d get proper rest when night came again.

His question was unexpected, and Phillip didn’t really know how to answer it. Um, no. Well, I don’t think so. If sex is the label for their type of relationship, then no, he’s never been with anyone. Phillip added more sheepishly, I.. actually don’t know what that is.

Oh no. He doesn't know what sex is. Somehow, the thought is... honestly really cute. He's always known Phillip is rather innocent, but this really takes the cake, and it's all rather endearing. Especially following the revelation that he hadn't been able to sleep without Zephyr by his side.
Combined, it's enough to melt the last of the ice from the wraith's heart, at least for the moment. He shifts again, leaning away so he can plant a kiss on Phillip's nose. Sex is... it's hard to explain. But it's something you do with... people you like a lot, or love, and it feels really nice, He explains, remembering his own experiences. I could show you, if you want.

Phillip drew parallels between sex and their cuddling. Both are shared with someone you love, both are meant to feel good. The comparison brought more warmth to his cheeks. If this was just as good as cuddling (he’d imagine it so) then Phillip was willing to give it a try.

I see. He moved his head in a way where he can meet his companion’s eye. O-ok then. Show me.

elevator music

The dread he expects in the aftermath of the encounter never comes. Instead he finds himself melting back into Phillip's touch, grooming him gently, idly as they settle. Did you... like it? He asks after a few moments, eyes lifting to meet the other boy's pretty pale gold. He'd been attentive and patient throughout, but he still can't help worrying he hadn't been gentle enough somehow. It seems like it'd be so easy to hurt Phillip with one wrong move — and that's the last thing he wants.

tw: rape mention

Phillip was here. He knew he was, somewhere in the depths of his subconscious. It’s difficult to acknowledge that when all was done, impossible even.

Once again he’s watching himself sit still as Zephyr tended to him. He wanted to move, needed to lose himself in his lover’s touch, but he couldn’t.

“Did you... like it?” The words pass through the barrier of static, and when he blinked he’s back in his body again, right next to Zephyr.

Phillip hid his face in the sea of gray fur. He needed the comfort, and he needed to muffle his labored breath. Yeah, he finally replied, I liked it.

He did like it. He did. Right? It’s supposed to feel good, and Phillip was sure it did.

But did it? When he tried to replay the moment in his head and recall what he felt, there was nothing but darkness and white noise. All that’s left is guilt and fear.

trigger warning

Why... why didn’t he feel good? Phillip found it difficult to decipher complex feelings, but it was different this time. He came to a conclusion fairly quickly, and he wasn’t happy with it. He wandered through a chamber of memories and comes across a lake. For a moment he’s back there again, trapped beneath the man. His touch unwarranted.

That man hurt Phillip. Did Phillip hurt Zephyr?

Did—did y-you like it? His gut tied in knots as soon as the question left his mouth, and he immediately regretted asking.

Something is wrong. His insides turn to ice as he studies Phillip, eyes big and full of gentle concern. The sudden touch is a small comfort — but it only makes it more clear that the words that follow are a lie. He hadn't enjoyed it. Zephyr swallows hard, feeling cold and exposed, ugly for turning something meant to be warm and loving into a trap set for the one wolf he still feels safe with. I did, but... He swallows again, fighting tears. What's wrong? Did I hurt you? Did — did you not want to do it? I didn't mean to force you, I — He's talking too fast. He stops abruptly, ears folding, and starts again more slowly, voice soft. I'm sorry. Are you okay?

He couldn’t hide his feelings, no matter how hard he tried. And oh, did he try. N-no, you didn’t. I-I’m okay, I swear. I- Phillip didn’t want to hurt him more than he already had (he was convinced Zephyr was lying too), but the deception didn’t help. Guilt tugged at his heart. He couldn’t wear this mask, even for a brief moment.

I-I don’t know. I’m just...scared. Lying didn’t make him feel better, but telling the truth wasn’t great either. He wanted to like it, really he did, and the fact that he didn’t made him feel horrible.

Phillip looked up and met Zephyr’s eyes. The softness in them put him at ease, if only a bit. He’d take all the comfort he can get.  It’s ok. I-It’s not your fault. Just as soon as he revealed his face, he hid it again.

Phillip's response is all over the place, confusing, and a deep sense of dread is starting to grow in the pit of Zephyr's stomach. As if something terrible is looming over them, waiting to sink barbed fangs in. He leans in to smooth his tongue over Phillip's ears, gentle and soothing, before he responds. Why are you scared? Can I help? He's trying his best to be calm, for the other boy's sake, but it's hard. He can't help feeling like he did something horrible to him. I'd do anything for you. He adds after a moment, anxious, and he means it. Anything to make things feel the way they're meant to, to put a smile on the dark boy's face. If it means they can never be close this way again, then that's okay. Phillip's happiness is far more important to him.

Unsurfaced memories strike fear in his heart. Living nightmares, more accurately. I can’t- is all he managed to get out. He couldn’t speak of his demons, even if he wanted to.

Phillip moved in closer (that was possible, somehow). Finally, he registers Zephyr’s warmth, and his breath falls to a steady pace.

The offer is slow to reach his ears, along with the statement that follows. Was there anything he could do to help? He couldn’t do any harm to Phillip’s attacker (not that he’d want that anyways). That man was long dead.

So, what else could he do? He pondered this, and the longer he did so the more he seemed to forget about the incident, or rather force it into the depths of his mind where it belonged. He’d much rather focus on the present.

Minutes pass before he finally replied in a soft tone. Stay here with me. He wanted to forget, and this was the only way he knew how. Please.

He swallows hard, heart stricken deeply by whatever is plaguing Phillip. I can't. The idea of not knowing eats at him, corrosive like acid against the softest parts of his heart — but Phillip's is far more important to him. He swallows the questions that bubble up within him, and simply holds the dark boy until he speaks again. When he finally does, the words bring the familiar prickle of tears back to Zephyr's eyes. He blinks them away, and answers quickly. Of course, He says it with conviction, without an ounce of hesitation. I want to stay with you anyway. Always. He shifts to lick his ears again, this time continuing, gently grooming him until he's ready to move.