#frostymuses

Other things were failing him too. His ability to speak, yes. Slowly but surely. His sense of shame, most definitely. His sense of personal space also. Though he hardly considered that last one his fault. Aurum was so stunningly beautiful, the glimmering and shimmering shine of his radiant beauty positively captivated the cat. Made his pupils dilate, threatens to drive out the color of his eyes and filled them with the demon’s reflection. It drew him in like a moth to a flame, swayed him to think impure thoughts through the cloudy haze of elderberries and Druidic spices lingering on his tongue. Not that he’d be able to articulate them into anything beyond thoughts. He lingered closer and closer, spilling out words he could not even hear leaving his own lips, but could still recognize the dull feeling of the purr in his voice as it tickled its way up his throat. There was a brief second he recognized he was standing inches away from his companion— when had they stood up?

Then there came a moment where he felt two pairs of arms wrapped around him, and his own arms encircling the demon’s body. And GOD— was it a heavenly feeling. To be surrounded by warmth like that, tickling up his spine and making his tail swish in satisfied delight. There was a moment where his composure was thrown to the wind, left unattended to, and a far more primal desire was embraced. He buried his face into the crook of Aurum’s shoulder where it met his neck, breathing his scent in deeply. Committing it to memory. Even if he blacked out tonight, which was slowly becoming more and more of a possibility with how light on his feet he suddenly felt, he was certain that scent was burned into his mind permanently. He’d never forget it. Not for a second. There was something decadently mouthwatering about it, so familiar. And the comforting feeling of those arms around him. For a moment, that charming businessman facade slipped, and he craved for nothing more than to stay in Aurum’s arms like this forever. It felt so entirely safe. So homely. It seemed like a dream in a world where nowhere really felt like home anymore.

Maybe it was just the alcohol when Maverick drew back, he still clung to Aurum like a lifeline. He swore it was just for support, and hearing the other laugh felt his cheeks burn in embarrassment. There was a moment where he fumbled with his familiar mask, struggled to put it back on. Those eyes stole his ability to think clearly— as did this wine— memo to him to really save it next time. Thoughts flashed in his head, wild and unorganized and yet one still always came to the forefront. An itch, a temptation. Something he hesitated to act upon even in a state which stole from him any sort of reluctance. And yet those eyes seemed to mirror his thoughts, lure him in. Once more his wings fluttered, bringing him closer, and finally he allowed himself to be burned.

There was no thought to his actions. Only the steady fluttering of his heart and the subconscious thought of his hindbrain that bid him lean forward and press his lips to the demon’s. It was sloppy and uncoordinated with the alcohol still sloshing about in his system, but there was a burning passion behind it. A motivation and a desire to convey something more, something that the words eluded him from and likely would for some time. Until his head was clear, and not just of the alcohol. There was something behind it. Something he dared not show, but that the alcohol drew back the curtain to reveal. Something he would not face and would not let Aurum face, but for now, that he would try to indulge them both in for the sake of simple pleasures. How few and far between those were.