it doesn’t SURPRISE him at all when huginn answers his question before the words even have the chance to leave his lips. they’ve been together long enough that such actions are expected; more than that, they’re anticipated — when the day comes that they fail to completely and utterly understand one another through nothing but eye contact and a mind link, one of them will have died … because that’s the only way a failure of that caliber would have occurred. there’s an even higher chance of one following the other into the afterlife, considering how closely BONDED they are. but such dark thoughts have no place in their current conversation.
❛ a high? ❜ a line, one of deep contemplation, begins to form between his thick, dark blond brows as he absently LEANS into the gentle but fleeting caress, a low humming, melodious in nature, erupting from his throat at the contact. it’s been so long since he felt the urge to sing, the avian trait a troublesome thing. as a bird, even a shamanic spirit, behavior classified as avian can be seen as normal. but as a man? it takes on a strange cast, making one wish to avoid it. and yet huginn isn’t the type to push him away for instinctively falling into the same pattern as before when he was muninn the bird and not muninn the man. but then huginn suffers from the same problem, which in turn gives them yet another thing to bond over. perhaps that’s why their bond is so strong. their situations are identical, and they understand one another so well that they could probably switch bodies and still manage to live similarly as the other — with none the wiser.
❛ i wonder if this purported high is the same … i can’t deny a sort of curiosity to find out for myself. ❜ cats may be thought to be curious creatures, but birds aren’t all that far behind on the curiosity meter. ❛ am i wrong to assume you feel the same way? ❜ waiting only until after huginn touches the tip of his nose with his own, muninn nips affectionately at the other raven’s bottom lip, unashamed to admit he’s not above feeling attraction for his avian companion.
❛ hm, ❜ he adds after a moment, holding the other male’s gaze. ❛ we could — but not now. maybe later? ❜ when he’s feeling up to having an adventure beyond what his thoughts have already begun to concoct with the direction his mind has gone in.
He isn’t surprised to see the deep lines of concentration fanning out from the other raven’s eyes — Muninn was always considered the overthinker between the two of them, the only one, aside from Odin, truly capable of keeping Huginn in line. ❛ THEIR WORD, NOT MINE, ❜ he makes sure to point out with a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders. It’s not as though the word itself is an important factor in their decision to copulate. Nothing is more important than Muninn’s compliance. If this is something he’s curious enough to try, then Huginn absolutely refuses to stand in the way of his desires. But he supposes he’s also at fault for permitting such curiosity and want to cling to him — impossible as they are to shake free of. ❛ HERE, IN PUBLIC? ❜ He asks, only half-serious. His body may be human, but he doesn’t possess their delicate sensibilities; voyeurism and indecent exposure may seem like a serious offense to most, but Huginn doesn’t see it that way. He is first and foremost a raven, and as such, he believes that gives him leeway to do as he wants.
And then Muninn’s teeth close around his fuller, bottom lip, and a shiver overtakes his body, goosebumps rippling across his skin as he unconsciously follows Muninn’s retreat, hungry for some nameless thing that must have been building for awhile. ❛ CAN WE? ❜ He breathes, not at all referring to the park he mentioned before. He’s far more interested in surrendering to this rather intense feeling — something that has to be human in nature. How can it not be when this is his first time feeling such an intense hunger for something he can’t even put a name to? ❛ CAN WE, PLEASE? ❜ Hopefully Muninn will know what to do — since his oddly dazed mind can’t seem to come up with the right answer.