#all three parts in total are a bit over 13k words and I can't believe I pushed through that djfkadjfkaj

[bluntfish]

Press-Me-Not, Gilded Anemone (Part III - Mutual Exchanges) [+18/NSFW]

Is it hard to ask for a date with an elusive man in the snow fields?

I am on my knees. I never thought I'll make another behemoth once more and my brainrot prevailed. Do I have the energy to make something akin to this? Perhaps in the future. No promises though. I underestimated myself last time after finishing CFL and god, I might as well do it again (in a different form since writing in this type of context got me wacked out). Still, thank you for reading this if you make it this far. You already made my day.

CW: sex (mostly mentioned but not purely explicit), comfort/angst themes. Minors DNI. 🐟

Your front door creaks open and closes behind you, where puddles of water pooled near the entrance. The sound of feet entering in. You’re back home, and Aurelius accompanies you this time. Warm lights fill the space with a flick of a switch. He sighs, removing his coat over one of your hangers and you do the same. The ornament on his turtleneck still hangs and swings when he lines his boots on top of your mats. He orients himself upright to adjust his sweater, then joins you in the kitchen.

Aurelius watches you opening the fridge, and sorting a few things. He then takes a glance over your countertop. It’s very neat and organized. Spices line up against the drawers, and your recipe box is stacked on top of the microwave. 

“Do you mind if I look?” he inquired, holding the item of interest in his hands.

You nod with a hum. He shifts through it, noticing the neat handwriting explaining each dish and dessert.

“Huh,” he uttered, “are these yours?”

“My old man’s. He has much of a sweet tooth. Want me to make you some?”

“You don’t have to,” he says, closing the box back to its original place.

“Do you want a drink? I got fizzy pop and a few beers–”

“I’ll take a beer,” he quickly responded.

A beer can slid over the counter. Wiping the sweat from the can, he cracks the tab open and gulps the golden drink.

“If I knew you drink, I might have considered having a bar date instead,” you laughed.

You lead the marksman to your living room once more, arranged somewhat differently than his last visit. The sewing station was the same as ever, with your other coat waiting to be mended with a durable cloth scrap. The windowed door leading to the back view of the lake is closed shut. Two cans rest on the center table as you start up the fireplace. Aurelius takes a gander at the wall adjacent to the mantle. Photos of your family, how Raine used to be with the rolling plains and shimmering lakes. He eyes you as a wee child, and silently moves the corners of his mouth to a slight, upturn smile.

“You had a good life, (Y/N). These photos… you were loved.”

“No need to get so mushy with me. They’re what they are,” you softly giggled.

“But I’m serious. I wish I had something like that, even now.”

His stance was unwavering. Lost in memories and wistful look in his eyes, his hand fetters as it lowers to a side table. It’s decorated with more photos of your formative years. He nearly knocked off a frame but caught it in time. Sweat on the brow. You pretend you didn’t notice his fumble.

“Is your dad coming home soon?” Aurelius murmured.

“He’s out,” you hesitantly responded, “gone to my Aunt’s for karaoke.”

“He sings?”

“Pretty much. Won in some local competitions for a few years now. He won’t be back till the afternoon tomorrow. Probably.”

You walked to your sewing table and picked up a hefty, thick book. It’s decorated with embellished lines drawn on all of its corners. Similar to an embroidered handkerchief. The man walks up to you, curious about what you have. And you presented your pages. Sketches and notes of various plants and trees you observed in the wilderness or found online. Some, like the dried flowers Aurelius gave to you previously, were drawn in meticulous detail. Almost too lifelike for him at least.

“Wow,” he mutters with his eyes on you, “this is amazing.”

“Why, thank you for the compliment.”

“Where did you put the flowers by the way?”

Without saying a word, you gestured your hands toward your bedroom. He soon follows with a glimmer in his eyes. Gently the door was pushed open. The switch turned on to reveal what you have from the darkness. Homely and inviting your space was. Small knick-knacks laying on your shelves and windows. Your bed is tucked in the corner of your room, against the window. It can accommodate you, but with two people it would be a crowd. You’re trying not to come up with any ideas. Aurelius quipped about the corner of your room. His attention is on a pile of books on a table as you’re stacking more. Tomes of nature and wonder you read many times, but treated as paperweights for the meanwhile. He took a whiff of a familiar scent emitting from them.

“What are you doing over there?” he asks. 

His hand glides over the hardcovers and nearly lifts one book till you stop him. Your hands, small and meager, overlap his.

“Flower pressing,” you said. “I want them to last a bit longer so I thought it would be nice to decorate parts of my sketchbook with those. They’re not done yet, so you have to wait. Maybe next week.”

“Sorry for being nosy,” he said with a smile.

You quickly withdrew your hand. 

“Must be the liquid courage.”

“Maybe so,” he laughs.

“Well, Mr. Marksman, I have to cut the tour short,” you said gently shoving him out, “Your presence ever staying in my room will be unbearable to my psyche.”

“How so?”

“...I’ll get impure thoughts. And I don’t think you want to deal with that,” you replied with a muted voice.

He chuckles and plays along as he strolls out of there. If anything, the humble act of showing your room to him is endearing. Including your sudden modesty. You’re both back in the living room. The lights get dimmer as the fire warms the house. You sit close to Aurelius. The couch creases with both of your weights. Once again, he removes his glasses and tucks them around his zippered collar.

“So what do you want to do now?” he asks.

“It’s getting late. Are you busy tomorrow? Maybe we can talk later.”

“I mean, right now (Y/N).”

Thoughts rummage in your skull. Your arms rest against your chin as you lean over toward your knees. You’re contemplating. His hand draws upon his scarred face as he too thinks about what else to say. After meditating your mind further, you started to speak.

“About …the bed thing. How did you feel about it?”

The color of Aurelius’s face shot up.

“I-I was about to say. I felt like I was pushing myself but… I don’t know. Did you regret what we did? What have I done?”

“No regret came to mind. It was something that came up in the moment,” you nervously assured him, with your thumbs twiddling. “I thought if I didn’t do anything then, then I probably wouldn’t meet you again after that encounter. And you proved me wrong. B-But I did feel like it went too fast. If anything, maybe it was me that was pushing it too far.”

“I don’t think so,” he bluntly added, “though… I was worried that you didn’t enjoy it…”

“N-No I did! I wish it would…last longer.”

Aurelius stares at you. You return his glance.  His arm reaches to yours and he’s holding your hands. Pulling you close to share his warmth. Engulfed by his warmth.

“It was reckless of me,” he whispers in a dour tone. “We barely know each other. I…I wonder why I agreed with it. But I won’t deny I got attached to you, (Y/N). You saved me.”

“I did?” you questioned.

“It’s been three years since I've devoted my life to the harsh climate of Raine. No sane person would opt to do so unless they had a death wish. But without it, I wouldn’t meet you. And I’m very thankful. However…”

His raspy voice trails off to the flames. You witnessed the fire reflected in his eyes.

“The solitude offered by the snowfields is what I wanted of course. But sometimes I feel I can't just be out here by myself. It’s very…lonely out here. I shared some of my thoughts with Marshal Zhong a few nights ago. It was… a response. But not what I was looking for. What’s your take?”

“Unsure if you want to be living on the tundra any longer, Aurelius?”

“It was the first thing that came to mind. It’s not like I have other places I can run to,” he admits.

“Then you could do both, you know.”

“Being a man of the snowfields and still be with you?”

“Yeah. You have an important job. You told me your stories, and I want you to keep doing that. Helping others when you can.”

“But came from a desire to escape–”

“Then does it matter what the original reason was?”

He was stunned by your sudden statement. The man paused with his head turned away. His hand is unmoving, his body still. Barely putting himself together, cracking from the pressure of the dark premonitions through his mind. Aurelius assumes to be a man made of restraint, though naturally, he is rather impulsive. Awkwardly he expresses this in his daily interactions, sometimes without thought. But intentional rashness has some caveats.

The last time he was acting on his heart fully cost the lives of his family in Utgard. His life spiraled as he was tugged and pulled by different factions. The city’s full of lions; fully capable to mash its plutocratic maws towards the destitute and those barely surviving. And Aurelius was well familiar with this game to the point of exhaustion. Those experiences became an extension of his current outings. As if it's all he knows. No peace in sight. A facade of a lone man wanting to connect not just nature but his kind. He doesn't know what's worse: admitting these feelings or dying without a breath of his struggles.

You sat in silence. The sudden cracks of wood burning across from you were the only sounds resonating in the space. Then, a breath. Out of your lips.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"...about me?"

"Yes," you stated, "I can't read minds. What’s troubling you?"

Aurelius shakes. His breathing shortens. His hand was unable to hold its grip, resting upon his lap once more. His teeth meet his lip for a second. Then he's calm. A pin was raised. The unnerving vibe brought upon the man you desperately wanted to know.

"I'm not a good person."

"What? Why would you say that?"

"I've done some horrible things. You won't understand."

"But that's not what you are–"

"Don't assume what you think of me," he howled faintly.

You froze.

“I am just as horrible as those rich bastards who ruined my life. I did what I do to survive. But for what? I never asked to have a life like this. The things I’ve seen since I was given this power,” he says while gripping his hands, nearly leaving marks on his palms, “Inhuman. A pawn. That’s all I was. And here is no different. I used to be like you. With my family and now its–”

More words stammered out of his mouth. The sudden rise of his panicked voice could jump even the largest of animals. His eyes could dig through your skin. Skinning you whole. Without warning, you grabbed his hand and pulled yourself to his side with your arms bearing nothing but sympathy. A tight squeeze. You remain still but shaken. Nothing can surmount the stream of words failing to break out. Failing to break out of your vocal cords.

“What are you doing?” he sternly said with a tremble.

Aurelius hears a whimper, soon a croak. Fresh tears soaked his sweater. He looks down as you clung on, losing his train of thought. He silently rubs your back, hoping it would calm you down. It doesn’t. He tries it again, this time his entire body captures you in the frame. You were finally able to put together sentences.

“Do you think I’ll ditch you because of your past? Because of the people turning your life upside down? None of that changes how I feel, Aurelius.”

He says no more. The realization hits him. Nearly admitting his pain he thought of the worse outcome. That you won't want to associate with him. That you’ll sever his interest and he’ll be alone. But why is that wish not coming true, he pondered. You were firm, stiff as soggy cardboard, and still admired this man with kind eyes. He is puzzled. Why would you want to be with a broken man like him, he thought. As if he doesn’t think the multiple occasions you shared with him were not enough. It was never enough to ease his mind of its uncertainty. And yet, you defied those claims.

“…you’re not going to let me go?” he inquired with his voice quavering.

“Fate dealt you a bad hand. I can’t fix any of your past, your regrets. But I told you many times, didn’t I? I care about you. We just have to move forward.”

He uttered a confused hum. A kind of hum he didn’t realize at first. Typically he will believe the first thing out of your mind but Aurelius has become cautious, more conscientious. He doesn’t have the grace to speak out loud about his woes, for the fear of losing you. He doesn’t want to lose anyone again amidst his self-loathing. So he zips up his lips, unsure what to say. Except, for one thing.

“I really didn’t deserve this,” he shutters to himself.

“You do,” you asserted, “live for your present, Aurelius. We want you to be around longer.”

“We?” Aurelius repeated with concern.

“It’s not just me. Marshal Zhong, the people you encountered and helped. How can you be bad when you’re just doing what you can? Anyone would understand that. I lived here for my entire life, but a city like Utgard could make a kind-hearted person twisted. You’re just unraveling. Trying to be whole again after being freed. Right? Is that the real reason why you came here? Just to start over?” 

Your head rests against his chest, under his chin. The light of the flames radiates your face. It fills in the missing heat after shedding so many tears, till you caught a drop on your cheek. Aurelius succumbs. His eyes puffed up, trying to wipe off the rolling tears with his freed hand. However, it doesn’t stop the jumbled words of his apology. Like a child distraught by his actions, he pleaded for forgiveness. Several times, you assured him of each one. Truly, for a man who suffered for so long, he’s trying to come to terms with his former agony.

“Why does my chest ache when you’re being so nice to me? Your honesty knows no bounds,” he cries.

“It’s what I know best.”

The both of you were mentally exhausted. Aurelius reaches for his unfinished can, as he hesitates to take everything at once. Though, he pushed through and immediately set it down with a refreshed expression. All he does is just lay back on the couch, staring at the fire kindling itself. And you are in his arms now he has your attention. He nearly mouths something, then his raspy voice emerges from his lips.

“I’m sorry for the outburst.”

“It’s alright. Not like you’re trying to make me run to the hills.”

“Good. That would be bad," he mutters.

You grinned with a slight chuckle, calming yourself down from his warmth. His hand limps over to your shoulder as he exhales and breathes again. A sigh of relief. His watery eyes dry up, only perceiving the light in front of him. Across the darkness. Mutual silence. No words were spoken between the two of you. Communicating through your hands, you gently join his grasp for your touch. Once more, you felt his finger reaching. Another wrapping your palms. His heat sears your arms, your body. As if you’re roasted over a bonfire, waiting for someone to put it out. Yet it never does. 

“(Y/N),” he said in a soft voice, “if you become anything in the world, what would you be?”

“What do you mean?”

“...I was thinking if you could be like…an animal, or a thing. What would you want to be, if you were that?”

“A tree. I’ll be a tree,” you responded after some thought.

“How so?”

“...I always want to protect others, even when I’m not physically strong enough to do so. That doesn’t mean I want to neglect my well-being. I want to be rooted, well-grounded, but enough to take care of the people I love.”

You didn’t include the sudden insight you picked from your inquirer. Aurelius feels like the first embers of a forest fire. His touch alone could make you combust; his finger is the ignition set off from that particular night. Rapid like a backdraft. As much as you want to be consumed by him, you decide to withhold such words for later. He’s touched by your thoughtful answer as you sit there swimming in your head.

“Oh,” he hummed, “I figured you'd say that. My other guess would be a kind of flower.”

You giggled, ignoring the burning desire deep in your corporeal essence. “Or I could mention being a rabbit.” 

“I’m grateful you’re predictable at least,” he says in his usual blunt tone.

“What about you? What would you be?”

His face contorts into contemplation. The energy that left him, the mired thoughts drowned itself off. He was not certain of what kind of plant he wanted to become. Or if he had any such thought about it.

“Do you want me to help you? You got quiet for a minute.”

“Would be nice. Your thoughts?" he quietly pleads.

“I think…you remind me of an anemone. Do you know what those are?”

Something sparked inside Aurelius. The flower came to him in a mental image, swaying in the wind.

“What color?” he whispered in eagerness.

“A white one. It means sincerity or…a love that is forlorn in some places. It’s from a book I read a while back.”

The man follows your mental throughline, listening with all intent. He identifies himself as a pale, white bloom. Fresh in spring, reaching towards the sun. And you, the person who tended the fields in his mind, plucked him off the ground. Gingerly snipped by the stem. From your tender hands, you carried him home. You put him in your best vase and he basked in the sunlight and warmth. Facing toward you constantly, turning his attention as you walked around your dwelling space. For your favor, for noticing him among the myriad of flowers. For once in his life, he feels lucky. Lucky to meet you amid his other thoughts. And a thought it was.

“Aurelius?”

“Mhm? Sorry.”

His face was full of peachy wonder. His tone of voice is a bit brighter. He’s enamored. Smitten. That’s the emotion he couldn’t pinpoint. His heart pumps harder, leaning close to your face. Another bold motion as his hand wraps your shoulder. Pulling you closer. Lost in his mind, his lips brush past your ear to quietly proclaim his feelings.

“I really don’t know if…this is love, or it's me wanting to be close. But could you…let me take care of you? Take care of me? Please. There’s nowhere I would rather be right now than here, (Y/N).”

He grew silent. Then you felt something moving across your face. Your heart bursts out with his sudden kiss on your cheek. You clung on, flabbergasted by the smooth transition attacking your lips to your neck.

“Whoa there loverboy, let's slow down a second,” you protested. He didn’t turn away. He had gotten more delicate, more familiar. He could be drowning himself from the floral scents of his jacket former. Or could be you. His exhale is deep, deep as his body yearns to merge itself into its match. Melting, melding to each other till nothing remains. He leaves the last pluck on your lips once more, and intently gazes at you. Embarrassed by what he did, but willing to claim his guilty behavior outright.

“Was I too forward?”

You were too flustered to even speak. You express your bemused deposition with an audible confirmation.

“I… I… didn’t mind it. It’s…nice.”

He gives you a look. The kind of look when animals leer at each other in the wild. Ones that make the relationship between hunter and prey. The fawn to his gray wolf. The heat of this encounter is more spartan than last time. More controlled. You figured that he was still restraining himself. If you give yourself wholeheartedly to his desire, you’re not sure if there’s any sense of self left in him, in you, in both of your hearts. And one thought permeates through the threshold of reason, a single thought that could break this pining to pinning your bodies together with a tack.

“Are you…going to…?”

“If you want to,” he murmurs.

“I’m asking you,” you clarified without sounding too wanting.

“I don't want to push it. I can stop.”

You reeled him back as when he backpedaled his body away. You earnestly want him to follow through with his actions. But in the end, he grew restless. He can’t think in the good conscience of being wrapped up like this. In the dark and your presence. His mind is mush. Some of it, you thought, could be the self-conscious actions Aurelius does to justify his doubts. But for this relationship to survive, there’s another thing to address to him.

You prepared your conscience by a heave and proceeded to tell some of the unsavory things in life. In your life. Things don’t usually go to plan, as living on the tundra does. There are times when you feel defeated or unable to change. Death of a loved one. Stuck in the snow, crying alone behind a forced smile. Even a picturesque life with your family doesn’t show the true colors. You appreciate Aurelius praising the life you have, but it is like anything else. It is what it is. You are what you are. A person who experiences varying degrees of sadness, pain, and loss.  Just like him.

“I never knew you went through all of that,” he remarked.

“You deserved to know. Now we’re even,” you chimed.

He takes this information in leaving only a smile written over his face, holding you ever close suddenly. You did your best not to utter a word though it surprised you regardless. The fireplace is getting dimmer, but you don’t want to move your spot. Neither does he. Darkness overtakes the majority of your vision. Barely make out any of the shadows. Outlines of his body you trace with your only sense of touch. Taut, just as you remembered. His core is just as strong. You hear his faint breaths reacting as you make your way feeling his thigh till you paused and looked at him. You assume he probably has blood rushing to his head.

“Mr. Marksman… I…” you stuttered.

“We’re not strangers, (Y/N). Call me by my name,” he says.

“Aurelius,” you said with conviction.

You can hear him gulp. A loud one in some ways. Your fingers dance their way from resting on his sternum to his zippered collar.  One of his hands broke free, grasping you from fiddling with his glasses tucked between its teeth. You feel small when he’s holding your hand. You like this feeling a lot. Wanting to ball up in his arms. Enveloped by his body tenfold. 

You carefully continued, “how are you going to treat me? Making out or getting started with the act? Pick your poison.”

“No offense but I have no clue."

“We can help each other. If that’s okay?” you mumbled.

“Sure thing, but I have an idea. Maybe get on top and we can start there?”

You remove the glasses from his sweater and set it aside. Your legs start moving over his, sitting on his lap. Unsure what you’re doing, you rest against his chest. You’re not trying to think too hard about what he has going on down there. Do you think he knows? He probably knows what you’re doing as he instinctively rests his hand on your waist, sitting back on the couch. He’s getting comfortable with the new sensation.

“Are you alright?”

“M-Maybe,” you meekly responded.

“Tell me what you want and I’ll do my best if anything,” he whispers with assurance.

You’ve always known Aurelius has a pedant for being sensitive to your wants and needs. You know he’ll go out of his way to make himself comfortable for you. He says with quiet bravado but he’s just as nervous as you are. You can feel his hand shaking, either from excitement or the unnerved anxiousness when interacting with a person. Gently you wrapped your arms around his neck and sighed. Sweat accumulates between the two of you. A hidden heat emerges from your stomach—a pit of flame.

“Or maybe you’ll show me instead,” he mumbles.

You’re nervous. Drawing upon his fingers to your chin like striking a match, Aurelius gently glances at your face. Lost in words. Undecided on what step to follow your bones too. You met his gaze after avoiding his eyes, avoiding any reciprocation. Yet you’re being filled with a tender kiss. He’s taking the initiative. His hand digs deep, tugging you closer to his body. Sharing his heat. No words, just action in play.

“I’m a little impatient. I hope you can forgive me,” he apologizes absentmindedly amidst his sudden kissing.

You are familiar with what happens when an animal is out of breath. Its lungs max out their capacity after exerting their energy output. Sweat ducts exit the body or the animal pants constantly to exhale hot air to cool down. Whatever it is, it fails to do its job. Your mind drifts akin to a white kite sailing across the sky. The bitter cold blows it through. Strong winds. Forces of nature overcame and witnessed through the light cracks of your window. An intimate sight you don’t want anyone to see, lest you incur the wrath of what had come. 

You’re like a naked stalk with its petals plucked. Akin to a child playing “loves me, loves me not”. Clothes are peeled away. Parts of your skin are bare. And the friction against the soft fabric between your legs is making you lose your grip on reason. Aurelius is already far gone in his mind, other than his quiet quips. Questioning his actions, hearing your reactions. Till he pulls your lower garments, you quake with sudden consciousness. 

“…protection.”

He blinks. You mustered a timid smile as you quickly got off of him, not making an effort to cover your body.

“I-I’ll be right back. I need to get something.” 

You run off to the darker parts of the house while Aurelius sits withholding any sudden shouts. You’re in your father’s room. There was a time you found something, a secret that he didn’t share with you, and you kept it locked in your mind if anything came about when you needed it. And now it's the time. You opened the nightstand and found small packages untouched. Checking the date, and it's still good for the next few weeks. You take two or three and leave it as it is. Knowing your father doesn’t keep the inventory of his condoms like the number of logs you saw through on the daily.

You enter the living room. Moonlight spills from the sliding doors. Aurelius adjusts his sweater, his pants, and his hair. He’s waiting as the fireplace light dies out. The man pulls himself up from the seat once he caught your sight and walks towards you with an embrace. You wrapped his arms to catch your breath.

“O-Okay we can continue. Sorry, I just want to make sure we’re safe doing this so I got something for you to wear,” you informed him.

He murmurs something inaudible. You could barely hear it from his raspy voice. Soon, your feet are being lifted off the ground. You’re being carried. Aurelius silences your outcries with a kiss as you’re lifted above his waist.

“Where to?” he asks in determination.

“Oh. U-Uh…” 

Your eyes instinctively glance at your bedroom door. Then he slowly brings his body over, nudging his head against the entrance, and carefully walks into the dark room. The window light beams over your bed. You realize where this is going. He collapses over the mattress with you in his arms. His hands run on your bare back reaching lower.

“W-Wait, what about my—”

“Morning. We’ll fetch your clothes before your father finds us like this,” he hushes.

He pops off the sweater, knowing his body can’t contain the heat he’s emanating. His cheeks are blazing. You’re examining his scarred chest in full view. The sheer mass of Aurelius’s maleness is radiated by the glow outdoors. It's like you're watching a sculpture making its first gesture in life. You gasped as he reached your inner thigh. Clumsily wrapping, pressing against his upper waist. Your heart races. His hair obscures his vision as he continues where he last started. You felt something growing. Something big. It’s distracting. His pants are pulled down. You’re pinned on the sheets. As if you’re going to be pressed like the flowers you prepared.

Aurelius opens one of your hands to take what you borrowed, and he looks at it carefully. He tears it open and is speechless as it falls on your chest.

“What’s the matter?”

“N-Nothing,” he says, picking it up quickly.

“Don’t keep me waiting,” you teased.

Taking it as a challenge, his fingers quickly stretched the rubber over his member. But his first attempt was too quick. 

“Damn it.” 

He frowns in frustration. It ripped after his fumbling for five seconds.

“Here, let me just–”

You sat up and opened another. You asked Aurelius to hold still. He tries, holding his breath. You reach down holding the tip and roll it on. Avoiding eye contact, only staring at his chest. You try to be covert about it, but you took a quick peek. How big is it, you wonder? You felt it doesn’t accommodate the size of your hand, lest what he’s going to do to your insides in a few minutes. Regardless, he utters a faint moan from your touch. You shutter; the chills set in. You pulled your head back and looked at him.

"It's on."

"Thanks," he mutters sadly. His ego was bruised. 

"What's up? You want to be sexy about it?"

"I want to impress you," he huffs.

"You already have, big guy. If you already got me like this, you're doing something right."

He sighs in agreement. He leans over, taking in your words as you're laying back against the sheets. Your arms drape behind his back.

He murmurs to your ears. “Let me know when.”

You clung on, once more pressed against his weight. Hoping you’ll take in what he has. He glances at your pleading eyes. Sealing your lips shut then he gets to work. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t utter a faint sound. Just raw flesh meeting in unison. Gentle as gentle can be in your mind. Intimately whispering how he’ll treat you right in one thrust. Timidly proclaims his wants in another. At first. The moment when he truly relaxed, hell broke loose. You understand what he means when he gets selfish. You’re watching him making his decisions out loud with his hands. Becoming even less graceless and more coarse. And it excites you to see this man puppeteering himself without a master, without forethought. Just himself in the rhythm of bodies talking to each other.

It was all a blur. You’re praying for your father doesn’t connect the dots when he gets home. The puddle of clothes trailing to your room, underwear dropped on the ledge of your bed, and Aurelius taking your body as his own. You’re praying this night doesn’t end. You’re praying he’ll take you to the gates if you happen to die that night. You’re praying so hard that his passionate feelings will imprint on your torso.

“(Y/N)...” he uttered in sweat, “do you want me to stop?”

“N-No, keep going. I’m okay.”

His hands squeeze your mass. Fastening to your hips as you still hold on. Your brain came up with many excuses. Excuses to say when someone asks about your first time. Nothing is coming up. His sweat drops on your forehead, and you embrace him closer. His movement became erratic, but you didn’t mind. You utter small gasps, urging him to continue till the landmarks on your skin darken. Smothered. Claimed. The last thing you heard before his finish was a harsh groan. Twitching, then his muscles ease. The fire subsided into a flicker.

You curled up after cleaning up the act, tying up his condom to your trash can. Your clothes were picked off soon after Aurelius traced his steps from the bed to the couch. You, on the other hand, are sore on the sheets. It might take a century to recover what he did with your limbs. You crawled underneath the bedcovers till he entered the room door closed. He dumps the clothes on your center rug and then scoots onto your bed. You are afraid this will happen. The two of you barely fit on your mattress. He fixes this by lifting you off the bed, then lays down with you on top. Your legs tangling with his.

Aurelius stares at your ceiling decorations and you’re fidgeting your fingers around his neck. The wind is knocked out of him. He pants all wide-eyed. His head rested on one of your pillows while you gingerly rubbed his hair playfully.

“You were enjoying yourself,” you whispered to his ear.

“S-Sorry… I couldn’t help it. Was it too much? I can do it again,” he tiredly pleaded.

“Silly.” 

You held him close as his arms wrapped around you, kissing him on the cheek. “You’re fine. You’re very manly, you know that?”

“M-Manly?”

“Is there a problem with that?”

He shook his head. The two of you lay there on the bed naked. Embracing still. Pondering what is to come in the future.

“Is it me or did I feel a lot better after sex?” he said while running his hand over his face.

“Did you?”

“Maybe I did,” he continued thinking out loud, “I feel like my mind floated somewhere far. Like a flower patch. Next time I’ll try better, (Y/N). I really lost myself, I think.”

“What if I told you that I enjoyed that?” you whispered to his ear.

“Really now?” 

He blinks a few times. The room is dark, but you can tell he’s content hearing such praise. He quietly chuckles while you were smooching his lips a few times, giggles sneaking between each exchange.

“Maybe I should let myself loose more often. Thank you for listening to me. I’m sorry if I overwhelmed you.”

“No need to apologize. If anything, I’m relieved you got off of your chest.”

Your fingers join his, and your palm matches his palm. With this embrace, he sighs in silence.

“I love you.”

“Don’t say that out loud! My walls have ears,” you snorted.

He explodes into laughter till the two of you calm down staring at each other with tender affection. 

“Didn’t you say before your pops will kill me if he finds us like this?”

“I mean, he could if he was in his prime,” you said, “but… I don’t think I’ll cry wolf for today.”

Shutting your eyes on his chest was the best feeling you had in a long while. You glance up, and Aurelius is out. You hear him snore softly, tuckered out from the energy he input for the night. You didn’t want to move or make the right decisions. You captured his heart, where you wanted him to be. And you hope he doesn’t let go. 

When morning rolls about, you are awakened by the sun rays hitting your face, unmoving. Aurelius remains in the same spot. He’s still hugging you close as if he’s in a dream protecting you from danger. He murmurs in his latent slumber a slurry of words so nonsensical that it got you to chuckle.

“Aurelius,” you shake him.

“Don’t,” he stammered, “Stay. Stay with me.”

“Aurelius,” you call him again, “do you want breakfast?”

“Breakfast?”

“I can’t cook if you’re holding me tight, handsome.”

Aurelius sluggishly sits up, pulling your body along with his. His bed hair is impressive. It’s all over his face.

“Good morning,” you smiled, “ready to pretend that you got here during daybreak?”

“Do you want me to cover myself with snow on top of it?” he seriously contended.

“If you want to!”

The two of you followed up with your makeshift plan. Not blinking an eye about what happened a night ago. And soon, cooked eggs greet the morning rays from the window sill. Two plates, two cups, two of everything. He’s smiling more. Laughing even.

The weight of his past still affects him though he doesn’t have to carry it by himself anymore. At least with you, he’ll look forward to even the most cloudy of days. Chatting without a pine or yearn sometimes. And soon, you hope the first touches of spring will reach where you are. As long as you keep reaching, his touch will bloom onwards to better horizons. Your gilded anemone.

#dislyte aurelius #dislyte aurelius x reader #dislyte x reader #all three parts in total are a bit over 13k words and I can't believe I pushed through that djfkadjfkaj #anyway good night. idk what to write after releasing this. if you have a prompt feel free to send an ask #dislyte fanfiction #written by bluntfish