Notes:

Once I realized that I had the opportunity to celebrate the completion of Ordo Vitiorum along with Storm's first summoning day, I knew what I had to do!

No joke: I was getting ready to post this when a summer storm blew up and took out my power. I'll take that as a sign that the party has well and truly gotten started!

This was originally going to be entirely lighthearted and smutty, but these ghouls, they had other ideas. Storm in particular insisted on picking up the POV for the second half and then proceeded to have a minor emotional breakdown. But I promise that all is well, in the end!

I hope you enjoy. :)

Warnings:

Not a LOT to warn you for here--it's fluffy in the beginning and smutty in the end, but the first part of the second chapter does happen from the perspective of someone who's fighting off and eventually starting to succumb to an emotional meltdown that's strongly coded as autistic.

His lovely ghouls take very good care of him, though.

Also, Phantom is a little shit but they get what's coming to them.

Credits/etc:

Dividers from here. Header graphic by me via pexels.

Chapter 1: Rain

As springtime yields to the approaching summer and the Ministry grounds return to green, abundant life, Rain and Aurora quietly start to plot: soon it will have been a full year since Storm joined the pack. Not every ghoul chooses to mark the anniversary of their summoning every year, but the way that the Emeritus line tends to bring them to the surface in clusters means that there's usually some kind of acknowledgement, even if the festivities are minimal. Rain, Cirrus, Cumulus, and Swiss usually sit down to dinner together with Cardi, but otherwise keep things relatively quiet, this many years on.

Since this is Storm's first summoning day since his arrival, and because Aurora has put herself in charge of planning, Rain can already tell that this party won't be a quiet meal and a cozy ghoul pile kind of evening. Of course, he's also excited to celebrate the most recent addition to their pack—Haze's party was a great success thanks to Cirrus, who arranged a lovely brunch with fancy finger foods for everyone, and a good game of chase through the Ministry forests afterwards, air elements only. Their laughter and shouts carried on the wind all the way out to the lake and beyond, and they only returned the next morning, looking wild and exhausted in the most satisfied way possible.

When the day arrives. Aurora texts Rain at an absurd hour in the morning, but it turns out he's already in the kitchen, up to his elbows in flour, with Mountain sitting at the counter offering moral support and occasionally stirring something. The sun has been up for two hours already, and so has Rain.

Rain is baking a cake.

After more contemplation than he ever expected to put into a baked good, Rain's decided on flavors that remind him of Storm—picking a complicated recipe that has tea infused into the batter and lemon curd hidden between each layer. Conscientious as he is at nearly everything he does, Rain has the necessary patience, but no practical experience in this arena. Which is why he's recruited Mountain to help keep him company, making sure he doesn't accidentally use salt instead of sugar, or baking soda instead of baking powder, or anything careless like that. And, apparently, to respond to Rain's text messages since his own hands are currently occupied with sifting the dry ingredients together.

Mountain also suggests a specific kind of frosting, offering to help Rain when it comes to the part that involves something called a double boiler, and Rain gratefully accepts.

When the two of them step back from their creation, several hours later, Rain finds himself surprised at how proud he is of how it turned out. It still looks a little homemade, frosting not entirely even and the layers not perfectly flat, but as Mountain arranges flowers (that he assures Rain are edible) across the top of the cake, Rain has to admit he's excited to present it to Storm later that afternoon.

That thought leads him to look at the clock on the stove, realizing with a start that he has about an hour to get ready before meeting Storm, and he's completely coated in a fine layer of flour and sugar and is generally an unpleasant sort of sticky all over. With a hasty kiss to Mount's cheek as the earth ghoul offers to pack everything up for the party later, Rain dashes off to his room to shower and change.

---

Still vaguely damp, nude save for the towel tied around his waist, Rain fingers his way through his wardrobe, rejecting perfectly reasonable options as he progresses rapidly toward the 'bad idea' end of his closet. Not all the way—it wasn't going to be that kind of party, maybe for the summer solstice—but a fair ways further than the average pack gathering, and certainly more than he'd bother with for a rehearsal. That was the official occasion entered into the pack's calendar for tonight, ensuring that the current band ghouls and their Papa will be in attendance. Aurora also recruited some of the retired band ghouls for a secret project she won't even tell him about, so he expects they'll be there, too.

When Aurora first suggests a surprise party, Rain's happy to go along with the idea. After arguing with himself about it for a few days, he also decides to check in with Storm, to make sure he is okay with it. Sure, that means ruining the surprise, but better that than to plan a big party for someone who emphatically doesn't want to be at the center of attention.

Fortunately, Storm thanks Rain for his thoughtfulness, and says he'll be happy to celebrate with the pack as planned. And as he pulls Rain close so he can kiss the sensitive spot behind Rain's ear, he suggests that his attendance is contingent on one condition—that he wants Rain to conspire for an early exit. For the two of them, and Aurora too.

Rain agrees instantly, of course, head canted nearly sideways as Storm sweeps a slow trail of kisses along his neck and shoulder. He'd have agreed to almost anything just then, but he can't deny the appeal of retreating to the aerie to continue the festivities in a more intimate location. Storm doesn't hide himself when he's with the pack, but there's an expansive sort of comfort that settles around him at home, and Rain likes that.

Storm even assures Rain that, since he doesn't know the exact details of the hypothetical celebration, he will still manage to be sufficiently surprised when the occasion arrives.

Given what Rain knows about Storm, a catalog that's growing little by little, he suspects that it would be incredibly difficult to surprise Storm in any meaningful fashion—he's much too perceptive. Rain's convinced the only reason he got away with his little underwear trick that one time was because so many other things happened that evening. So if his attempt to delay Storm from his habitually early arrival to "rehearsal" is destined to be transparent, well—he pulls two hangers from the closet—he might as well have fun with it, right?

The pants are loose and flowy, a light cream shade, and they drape perfectly over his ass, swishing as his tail brushes against them. After pulling them on first, Rain puts on the top, turning to look at himself in the mirror. The sweater is both oversized and cropped, at least on a ghoul of Rain's stature; its sleeves are long enough to actually reach his wrists for a change, but the torso is wide and short enough that the gills on his flanks show below the hem when he moves. It's knit from a dark gray-green fiber in a loose weave that wouldn't look out of place in the Water Circles, and it shows enough skin that it would probably be less provocative for Rain to wear no shirt at all.

He finds the malachite necklace from the first night he spent with Storm, and puts that on, along with a few gold bangles on each wrist and one earring made from a delicate, porcelain-thin shell that glimmers with nacre on its concave side. Tonight he'll leave his hair mostly loose, pinning it back over one ear and letting the dark waves and curls spill onto his shoulders. He'd normally have cut it by now, but he's enjoying the length now that he doesn't have to worry about pinning it up so it doesn't stick to his neck under a balaclava.

As a finishing touch, he chooses a scent for the evening, tracing lines of oil scented with honeysuckle and lime across his collarbones and wrists.

As he slips on a simple pair of sandals and starts to leave the room, he almost forgets his prop—a book that he'd borrowed from the library for the sole purpose of happening to be "in the neighborhood" tonight at around the time Storm should be leaving for practice. But he remembers just in time, grabbing it before hustling away, letting the door slam behind him.

The rest of the den is still buzzing, and Rain makes a quick stop in with Mountain to make sure he's bringing the cake along. After Mountain reassures him for the third time in the last hour and a half that yes, he'll make sure to bring the cake, Rain has nothing left to do but head to the library.

Waiting awkwardly near the front desk, Rain's about to text Dew and ask if Storm somehow managed to give him the slip and make it downstairs without him when he hears a familiar voice approaching. Storm's speaking with one of the Siblings who he's been asked to teach, to help expand the number of hands available for musical accompaniment for services. He seems to be enjoying the challenge, even if he readily admits that it's sometimes draining, and Rain enjoys how excited he gets when a pupil has a breakthrough on a difficult piece.

Dropping the book through the return slot now that his mission is officially underway, Rain doesn't look over until he feels Storm notice him, and hears his quiet farewell to the student. When Storm's footsteps are close, Rain glances over at him.

"Fancy meeting you here. Walk you to rehearsal?" He holds a hand out.

Storm takes it, pulling it in for the quickest kiss against the back of Rain's knuckles. "Surely you didn't make the extra trip just to keep me company?"

Rain shrugs one shoulder, still holding Storm's hand. "Had a book to drop off, figured since I was already here I might as well wait. You didn't have lessons this afternoon, did you?" He leans in, kissing Storm's cheek in greeting and then his mouth, because he can and Storm will let him.

"No, just a quick follow up chat. I offered to let them pick some new pieces from the stacks since they're a bit further ahead of the others—I had to ask if there was any chance they had any ghoulish blood. Don't want to teach myself out of a job." He grins, fangs flashing, letting their joined hands swing between them as they start to slowly walk through the library's foyer.

"Wow, heavy praise," Rain says, dawdling as much as he dares, pausing to look over the Ministry's community bulletin board by the entrance. It's dotted with all sorts of messages and flyers, and also displays art drawn by the Ministry kids, usually of Papa but sometimes of the ghouls. Today Rain spots a picture of what can only be Dew, a tiny black stick figure in a top hat, dwarfed by a white guitar and a pillar of flame erupting vertically from his mouth. He points it out, pulling out his phone to snap a picture and using it as an excuse to text confirmation to Dew that he's met Storm and they are en route.

"Speaking of heavy praise…" Storm looks Rain up and down, tilting his head in curiosity. "What have you been up to today? You look much too lovely for just going to weekly rehearsal."

Having anticipated this initial layer of questioning, Rain responds smoothly with his prepared answer, fluffing up his hair a little as he preens at the compliment. "Thanks—Dew and I had a lunch date earlier."

Which was technically true. Dew stopped into the kitchen during the latter half of the baking procedures, and Rain sat with him while they split a plate of leftovers that Mountain forced on them while he worked on the buttercream for Storm's cake and the cake layers cooled. It was important that Rain get something to eat today that wasn't cake, he'd said, sliding the plate across the counter.

If Storm notices anything off about Rain's explanation, he gives no outward indication of it, chuffing into Rain's ear at the kiss. "Mm. You smell good enough to eat."

"Might have freshened up a bit before I walked over. I know you like it." Rain purrs back, half his mind occupied with the sudden conviction that Storm has—already, somehow—managed to scent the truth he'd tried to mask with his choice of perfume. On his hair, maybe? He hadn't had time for a proper wash.

"You're right, I do." Storm grins, lingering in Rain's space for a moment before stepping back through the hallway door that connects the library to the rest of the Ministry, tugging Rain's hand as he goes. "We should get going though. Pet hates starting late." He winks, holding the door for Rain, letting it close gently behind them once they're both through.

Pet is a nickname Rain can't bring himself to use, but then again he would probably never have called Papa Emeritus III 'Terzo,' either, if he'd had the chance to know him. And Storm and Haze never call Cardi anything other than 'Frater'—so Rain does his best to accept the way hearing it makes him itch. Regardless of how he feels about it, there are plenty of other things he needs to be worrying about right now, anyway. He can probably only milk a couple extra minutes out of things at this point, having erred on the side of holding them up too aggressively too soon, prompting Storm to notice their potential tardiness and hurry them along.

"Yeah, of course." Rain walks quietly with Storm until they have to drop hands to navigate a stairwell that doesn't have enough room for them to stay side-by-side without impeding oncoming foot traffic. They're about to turn into the band wing hallway when Rain has what's either a fortuitous accident or a very funny joke being played on him by the universe—he trips on the hem of his pants, falling forward into Storm.

Neither of them end up on the ground, somehow, but it's a near thing as Storm manages to stop in his tracks, giving Rain something sturdy to grab onto—his arm—before he can land on his own face.

"Whoa! You all right?" Storm turns, grabbing Rain with his other hand and helping him catch his balance.

"Yeah—thanks." Rain blows a curl out of his face, shaking his head. He puts his hands on Storm's shoulders, bracing himself and not even having to pretend to do it as he sees Cumulus' head poke out from the practice room door behind Storm's back, halfway down the hall. She gives Rain a thumbs up as he straightens the neckline of Storm's shirt, pulled off-kilter when Rain grabbed him. "Sorry about that. You good too?"

"All good." Storm takes Rain's hand again, dusting his thumb over Rain's knuckles. "Can't let my princess get hurt."

Rain feels his face go hot, and as Storm tries to walk forward again, expecting him to follow, it takes a second before his feet get the message. When Dew calls him princess, well—it's a very different context. It hits another way entirely, hearing it out in the open like that, affectionate and protective: 'my princess.'

Storm, glancing over and seeing Rain's deep blush, tilts his head, asking in a quiet voice, "That okay? I didn't mean to presume—"

Rain's shaking his head, moving close and wrapping his arm around the back of Storm's waist.

"It's good. I like it. Just caught me off guard." He drops a quick kiss to Storm's cheek as they arrive at the rehearsal room door.

Storm, as always, gets there a half step before Rain, just enough to pull the door open for him, except this time—

"SURPRISE!"

The rehearsal room lights flip on as the band, minus a few current personnel but with a bonus Cumulus and Swiss covering keys and bass, launches into a supremely chaotic tune that's still just barely recognizable as 'Happy Birthday,' a tradition that goes back further than Rain's own summoning. Most new ghouls eventually question why the pack chose that particular song when they were technically neither born nor mortal, but even Mist can never seem to give Rain a good answer for that. It simply is, and continues to be, tradition.

Perpetua stands front and center, crooning the lyrics with the same amount of unrestrained enthusiasm he puts into performing for arenas of their screaming fans as he walks over to his ghoul, a bottle of bubbly in hand. He gives Rain a gentle, pleased look before embracing Storm on the final line of the song, then popping the cork to officially kick off the festivities.

It shoots off at a wild angle, but Swiss is there, reaching up and easily catching it in one hand, and, in one smooth movement, tossing it playfully at Phantom, who isn't paying any attention at all.

"Hey!" They yelp, spinning around while Swiss immediately becomes very invested in putting Rain's bass back where it belongs.

Rain laughs, patting Storm on the back and looking for Aurora, who he expects to see lingering nearby with whatever her secret surprise is, but she's nowhere in sight. Before he can ask, however, the rehearsal room door swings open again, revealing—

Rain isn't exactly sure what they're looking at, at first, but he can hear Sunny's giggle and spots her wild curls from just around the edge of the door as he hears a heavy rolling sound, and then the doorway fills with an absolutely enormous cake.

More accurately, it's filled with the sight of Aether's back as he pulls a cart bearing a suspiciously ghoul-sized cake, which he rolls into the rehearsal room, grinning broadly as he guides it to a stop in front of the guest of honor. "Found this out in the hallway and it had your name on it, so I thought I'd just go ahead and bring it in."

Sunny slips in the door behind him, giving Rain a quick hug as she scrambles over to join the rest of the ghouls, who've stepped away from the practice stage and have gathered in an uneven circle around Aether's delivery. Perpetua pours each of them a glass of sparkling wine, rattling something off about Emeritus vineyards in Italy, as the ghouls pass drinks around until everyone has one in hand.

Meanwhile, Storm appears to have been entirely taken aback by the giant cake, which upon closer inspection, Rain can see is constructed from wood and bears many hallmarks of Mountain's work, though he'd guess that Sunny, Cumulus, and Swiss helped with the decorations—three tiers, one of clouds and sky, one in rainbow swirls, and one with vertical, wavy stripes in matching colors to the other two. Plus an entire party aisle's worth of streamers and garland.

And it does, in fact, have Storm's name on it—in looping swirls across the top, along with the message, "Happy Summoning Day!"

Rain has a sneaking suspicion about what's going to happen next as Swiss and Mountain hand off their glasses and step forward, reaching out together, lifting away the top tier to reveal—

Aurora, beaming with the full radiant glow of her unglamoured form, rising from a crouch as she lifts the cake that Rain and Mountain made, one bright candle catching fire and starting to throw sparks. A little fire affinity goes a long way; Rain often forgets she carries a hint of other elements, deep down, though the way she keeps convincing the other ghouls to teach her their instruments should be a reminder.

"Happy summoning day to you~" she sings, more or less to the birthday tune, facing Storm with the biggest grin. He matches it, his own face flushed pink and eyes dancing, joyful but on the edge of overwhelmed, at least by Rain's view. Very rarely does the whole pack pay him this much attention at once, but it's a special occasion, after all. And the previous time was probably on his actual summoning day.

"Make a wish and blow it out so we can have cake!" Aurora encourages him. Rain's so busy watching the sparks shoot from the candle that he almost misses Storm holding a hand out to him. Rain takes it, stepping a little closer as Storm raises his voice to address the pack.

"Thank you all for this. Every ghoul should be so lucky to find a pack like this one. A calling and a home, worlds away from the ones we once knew. I hardly know what to wish for—because I have so much already." Rain squeezes his hand, and he can see that Aurora's eyes are glittering, threatening to spill happy tears down her cheeks.

Whatever Storm wishes for, he keeps it to himself, leaning in and carefully blowing out the candle. The ghouls cheer, clinking glasses together as Perpetua adds, "We're so glad you're here, my ghoul," and lifts his glass. "To our Storm!"

"To our Storm!" they chorus. Rain raises his own glass in salute before taking a long drink, feeling the bubbles as they tickle on the way down.

Rain watches as Mountain throws back his own drink and lifts the cake carefully from Aurora's hands, trading her for a glass of her own. She exchanges a few quiet words with Storm and they clink their glasses together, and then both of them turn to Rain and repeat the toast.

"Happy summoning day," Rain says, with a gentle smile and a kiss to both of their cheeks. "Great job, Rory. This was your surprise, huh?"

"Yeah! Isn't it great? And your cake looks fantastic, Rainy!"

"You made the cake?" Storm gives Rain a quizzical look.

"With Mount's help, but yeah."

"Then I owe special thanks to you both," Storm says, eyes soft. "It looks delicious. And all of this—this is marvelous. I'm honored."

"Good! You deserve it." Aurora grins, then shuffles her feet a little. "Don't suppose you two would mind helping me out of here? Might not have thought about that part ahead of time."

They laugh, setting their glasses aside so they can, working together, lift the petite ghoulette and place her carefully down again on solid ground.

"Hey Storm, come cut this cake," Swiss calls, spinning a knife a little too enthusiastically between his fingers.

"And open your presents!" Dew adds, as Storm excuses himself to mingle with the other ghouls, and Perpetua too.

Rain and Aurora sit together as Storm cuts careful slices of cake, which Mountain and Swiss help pass around, and they eat and watch, chattering about nothing in particular as several of the pack approach Storm individually to press something into his hands, a small collection building on the table next to the cake as the party goes on. Rain's already told her about Storm's request for an early escape, but they're both happy to make sure everyone has a chance to enjoy the festivities and shower Storm in presents first.

Rain already knows about Dew's gift; he'd helped him with the idea. A rosary, made of fine sterling chain and glittering beads of deep greens and blues, strung with seven special charms, metal discs embossed with the symbols of the Seven Princes, copied from the journal. He watches the shy smile creep over Storm's face when Dew hands it to him with a knowing smirk, and feels a quiet warmth in his chest when they first shake hands, and then hug. Dew all but disappears in Storm's embrace, a thought which Rain puts firmly in a container to be opened at a later date.

Mountain approaches Storm shortly after that, carrying a ceramic pot that's dwarfed in his hands—in it grows a small and vibrant plant that Rain doesn't recognize, but Storm clearly does, based on the delight in his reaction. He hugs Mountain first, and Mountain wraps his arms around Storm with a surprised smile, before pressing an uncertain kiss against the side of his head then saying something only Storm can hear. Aurora elbows Rain at that, and they both laugh a little over it, making speculative looks at one another.

Something to ask about later.

Haze, always a little more reserved, waits until Storm isn't talking to anyone else before she comes up to him, holding out a beautifully wrapped package that turns out to be a book. Storm opens the cover, peers inside for a moment, then smiles broadly and tucks the book under his arm so he can take Haze's hands in his, resting their foreheads together.

Rain's about to get up when Cirrus walks over with another gift. Rain's not sure exactly what it is as Storm pulls it from the velvety drawstring bag that she hands him—some kind of mobile, he thinks—but judging from the sparkling crystals, wire curlicues, tiny bells, and a few dark, iridescent feathers laced into the trailing ends with ribbon, Rain can already imagine it finding a perfect place in the aerie.

When it seems like the giving of gifts might finally be subsiding, Rain stands. Aurora starts to follow him but he puts a hand on her arm, asking for her to wait a minute. He walks over to Storm, who offers him a broad smile, looking genuinely happy and more relaxed than Rain expected him to be.

"Hey. Happy summoning day." Rain leans in, kissing Storm's cheek and feeling Storm press a kiss to his cheek in return.

"Thank you. You all are—"

"Ridiculous?" Rain glances over at Aurora's giant cake prop.

"Wonderful. And yes, also ridiculous. But I wouldn't change a thing." Storm glances over at the little pile of gifts he's accumulated. Touches the plant, adjusting the pot meaninglessly. "It's an honor to spend such a special day with everyone."

"Well, you're not done yet." Rain says, as he hooks a couple fingers from each hand around the chain to his necklace, lifting it up and over his head, careful not to tangle it in his hair or shirt. He unclasps the chain, letting the the pendant slide off and into his palm. The deep green stone is shaped like a donut, about an inch and a half across, smooth and shiny, the hole bored in the center a little bigger than a fingertip.

"I know how much you like pretty stones, and well—me. And this was on the necklace I was wearing—"

"I remember," Storm nods, expression soft, and more exceptionally, caught off guard.

Rain continues, trying to recall the shape of the phrases he rehearsed in the shower earlier. "I want you to have it. In honor of the anniversary of your summoning, and the place you have here. With us. With me." He holds the piece of malachite out to Storm, who accepts it, curling his fingers tight around it as if he can absorb the last of Rain's residual body heat from it, from where it rested against his skin.

"Thank you, Rain. I know just what to do with this. Though I might miss seeing it on you, I have to admit."

Rain grins, pleased with himself for having anticipated Storm's thoughts, for a change.

"Well, I had an idea about that…" Rain slips a hand into his pocket, feeling for the now long-familiar, negligible weight of the charm Storm had made him at the beginning of their courtship, one that matches the key that Rain holds to the tower. It's so much a part of his routine to tuck it into his pocket each morning that he rarely even notices it there. He finds himself reaching down to tap it a few times a day, making sure it's still right where he left it.

"When Dew was working on your gift, I asked him if he could help me with something else, too. This is what we came up with."

Rain fiddles with it for a moment before re-fastening the necklace's clasp, wrapping the chain between his fingers and letting the charm fall, until it dangles in the air between them.

Together, Rain and Dew have constructed a setting for the charm out of very delicate silver wire, following the lines of the green lakegrass twine Storm wove around the small chunk of cobalt glass and tiny wisps of cloudlike wool to begin with, adding a reinforced wire loop that Rain's strung onto the chain, allowing it to hang there securely.

"What do you think?"

Storm's silent for a moment, and Rain watches his eyes, the gentle swirl as close to still as Rain's ever seen it. When Storm looks back to Rain, he nods, and Rain grins as he slips the chain back over his head, letting the charm rest at the center of his chest where the malachite did before.

"I want everyone to see. Is that okay?"

"More than okay. It's wonderful."

"Good." Rain gives him another kiss, on the mouth this time, as he waves Aurora over.

"We about ready to head out?" She's nibbling at a final bite of cake, sucking frosting off her fingertip as she joins them. "Figure it might be time."

Rain smiles, watching her tuck herself under one of Storm's arms like she's always belonged there.

Before Storm can answer her question, though, he glances over Rain's shoulder and Rain turns to see Phantom approaching, pulling something out of their pocket with a grin that says here comes trouble.

"Happy summoning day, big guy." They hold out a small booklet to Storm, smile forcibly restrained in a way that pings Rain's radar. He can't quite make out what it is, but it looks handmade, and Rain recognizes Phantom's handwriting on the front in big dark letters:

REALLY GHOUL DEALS

Rain glances at Aurora, silently asking if she knows anything about it, but she shrugs, and they both watch as Storm opens the booklet, curious, saying, "Thank you, Phantom. Did you make it?"

Phantom explains, "Yeah! I wasn't sure what to get you and the internet said if you don't know what someone might like you can make them homemade coupons. So I made some for you!" There's something about Phantom's expression that has Rain waiting for the other shoe to drop, as he watches Storm flip through the pages.

The first one seems innocuous enough - Good for one movie night with Phantom and Swiss, your pick. Then Rain reads the second - Aurora will do one chore of your choice. Rain looks over at her, questioning, but she didn't see it and Storm flips to the next fairly quickly - Mountain will cook you dinner, before asking, "This is so nice, bug—did you all go in on this?"

Phantom glances around, and then gives a funny little laugh and a shrug, ruffling their hair. "Well, not exactly, but—"

"Sorry," Rain interrupts, holding his hand up. "Storm, can I see that, please?"

"Of course." Storm passes it over to Rain right away. Phantom's expression falters.

Rain quickly flips through a few more pages, seeing different packmates assigned various tasks and activities, until at the very back he sees a coupon that says, Redeem for one BJ from Rain. He puts the booklet in his pocket and looks up at the others.

"Excuse us for a minute. Bug? With me."

He motions for Phantom to follow him and they take a few steps away, while Aurora and Storm stay behind.

"Rain, I can exp—"

When Rain turns to look at them, his expression has a hard edge that cuts Phantom off mid-word.

"What is this all about? Because I know you didn't ask me about putting my name in there, and I have a pretty good feeling you didn't ask anyone else, either. Did you?"

"Well, no, I was kind of in a hurry, and I thought—"

"Did you? Take a second to think now, before you answer me."

Phantom doesn't reply, dropping their eyes to the floor instead of answering.

"That's what I thought. I'm going to ask you a couple more questions, and you will answer them."

"Yes, Rain." Phantom's ears and shoulders droop, and they come closer as Rain beckons them, until they're only a step or so apart. Rain doesn't bother trying to keep Aurora and Storm from being able to hear, though the rest of the pack is busy enough chatting and enjoying the party that they haven't noticed. He's not speaking particularly loudly, though the stern tone of it is unlike anything Storm or Aurora have heard from Rain before.

He has to be careful when Phantom's like this. The only thing that tends to snap them out of it is being on the receiving end of Rain's anger, which has always been otherwise slow to rise. But—and Phantom knows this, which is part of the problem—Rain doesn't have time for that tonight. Not in the usual way, anyway.

Rain puts one arm around Phantom's shoulders.

They don't quite jump in surprise, but it's obvious from the awkward tilt of their head that it's not the reaction they were expecting.

"Is there something you need from me that you're not getting? Something that's making you act like this? Like you need to do something stupid to get my attention? Because that ghoul"—he points at Storm—"is kind, patient, generous, and thoughtful. And deserves better than what I'll generously call a bad joke. So if you weren't intentionally choosing to be a dick to him, maybe you're choosing to be a dick to me."

Rain doesn't hide the frustration in his voice, doesn't try to keep his breath steady. He waits for Phantom to respond, and when they don't, Rain reaches over and turns their face toward him.

"Or did someone put you up to it?"

It isn't out of the realm of possibility, though Rain's stomach sinks as he considers who else in the Ministry it might have been. Not that many possibilities and he doesn't like any of them.

Phantom's expression goes from uneasy to dejected as they shrug out of Rain's grasp.

"No! Nothing like that. I just… I thought it would be funny. I didn't mean anything by it. Not really."

"Say more." Rain crosses his arms over his chest, posture rigid as he capitalizes on every inch of his height. Something he's picked up from Dew, over the years. It has its uses, though most of the time he tries to avoid looming over his shorter packmates.

Phantom shrugs, barely meeting Rain's eyes. "I don't know. I guess you're right, I didn't think."

"Not good enough. Answer the first question. Are you not getting what you need from me?"

"No, it's not like that. We're good. I mean, I wouldn't mind spending more time with you, ever, but…"

Rain sees when Phantom's defenses crack, hears the truth in their voice as it breaks—it's subtle, and Rain hasn't been pushing them hard, but it's such a relief he nearly pulls Phantom into a hug. He lets his shoulders and voice soften, arms falling to his sides.

"I'd hate to think that you were taking out any frustration you might have with me on Storm, bug, just because he's getting some of my time and attention. Do you understand why I'm worried?"

"…yeah. That's fair. I'm sorry." They look so suddenly pathetic that Rain reaches out, squeezing their shoulder.

"Thank you. I believe you. I'm not the one you owe an apology to right now, though. Tell you what." Rain pulls the booklet out of his pocket, then raises his voice for a moment, addressing the room.

"Does anyone have a pen I can borrow?"

Perpetua's the first to hold one up, pulling it from his jacket pocket.

Rain looks at Phantom then gestures at Papa. "Go get that for me, bug."

"Sur—I mean, yes, Rain." Phantom trots over to Perpetua and back to Rain, putting it in his waiting hand without meeting the water ghoul's eyes.

Rain lays the coupon book down on the table that holds Storm's gifts and what's left of the cake, and he flips through it page by page as Phantom watches. He carefully crosses out each pack member's name and writes 'Phantom' over each one. Each one, except the one with his name on it; that one can stay. When he's done, he holds the pen and booklet out to Phantom.

"Now, go tell Storm you're sorry." He can't resist turning the knife a little, for emphasis. "And stop embarrassing yourself."

Phantom's face is practically scarlet as they protest, "But Rain, I don't know how to ma—"

"Well, then I guess you're going to learn, buggy. I'll do it with you, if you don't know how. It'll be a chance to spend more time together." Rain's smile returns, though there's something distinctly predatory about it. "Now go on." He swats them on the backside but there's no force behind it. There doesn't need to be.

Knowing better than to grumble, Phantom takes the pen and booklet, walking back over to Storm. Rain follows behind him, but keeps going, crossing to where Dew and Swiss are watching, having finally twigged on to whatever is happening. Rain pulls Dew aside and confers with him while Phantom and Storm speak and Aurora watches in mischievous amusement, secretly glad she's not the one getting in trouble but doing a passably good job of keeping her face neutral—mostly.

When Rain rejoins them, Storm's thanking Phantom again as if nothing unusual had happened at all. Rain addresses Phantom first. "The three of us," he gestures to Storm and Aurora, "are leaving now. Dew's going to take care of you tonight." He looks over at Dew, who nods.

"Okay." Phantom frowns a little, ears still angled low as they follow Rain's gaze.

Storm looks like he has questions, but is wisely holding them for later.

Rain tugs Phantom in for a hug, which they resist before a few seconds before giving in and returning the embrace, subdued. Rain speaks quietly now, just for them. "We'll talk later, okay?"

"Yeah. Thanks. 'M sorry." Their voice is muffled, face pressed into Rain's chest.

"I know. Love you, bug. It'll be all right. Make sure to give Papa his pen back. And do what Dew tells you to."

"Right. Later." Phantom turns, giving a slight wave over their shoulder as they walk away.

Rain turns back to Storm and Aurora, rubbing a hand over his face and through his hair.

"Right. Shall we? We can help carry your presents—"

Chapter 2: Storm

When the trio returns to the aerie, Storm makes sure to find a safe spot for Mountain's gift right away, as Rain and Aurora set the others down nearby. He's still a little shocked by the gesture—Mountain's given him a cutting from his personal collection, which is, strictly speaking, something Storm's pretty sure that the Ministry doesn't know about. They've talked about it a little, in the course of long afternoons spent in the greenhouses, about the fact that Mountain has contacts across the globe who cultivate, collect, and trade plants that by all rights shouldn't even exist on this plane. Which is what this is—this tiny sproutling now entrusted to Storm's care.

He makes a mental note to have a longer conversation with Mountain about it, to make sure he gives it the right light, humidity, and soil conditions to thrive. And that's not the only thing they need to talk about.

Add it to the list. Later. Focus.

"Sorry again about Phantom," Rain says, looping his arm through Storm's and pulling him out of his thoughts. "Sometimes you really can tell they weren't around all that long before they were summoned. No offense." Rain gestures in Aurora's direction.

"None taken," she shrugs, shifting a tote bag (which she'd insisted they stop and pick up from the den on the way here) from her shoulder to the floor. Storm had offered to carry it, of course, but she was determined to handle it herself.

"I could have told them it was a bad idea but I wasn't consulted. Besides, it was kind of fun to meet the legendary Mean Rain." She makes air quotes with her fingers, laughing a little, tongue caught between her teeth. "Remind me never to get on your bad side though, don't want that pointed at me pretty much ever, thank you very much."

And that—that had been unexpected, to say the least. Storm's always respected Rain's quiet leadership as a long-term member of the Ghost project, which is the closest analog he can think of to the side of Rain that came out today. One that smoothly handled Phantom's lapse in judgment with an ease and certainty that Storm's not used to seeing the water ghoul step into in his day-to-day life outside of the band.

But it makes sense—sometimes the most effective way to embody authority is to wield it selectively. Fitting for his princess.

Another list to update: ways that Rain is exceptional.

"You handled that well." Which is putting it mildly, as he looks at Rain with a new perspective and a warm smile. "Though you're going to have to tell me more about these legends that I've somehow missed hearing about." Storm gives Aurora a pointed look, and she laughs, sticking her tongue out.

"I'm just full of surprises," Rain puffs up a little, grinning with his fangs on full display. "Speaking of surprises—Rory, I loved the big cake, everyone did such a good job with it."

Clever deflection, siren. That's all right—I'll ask you again later.

"Aw, thanks. And your real cake was delicious! Did we get any leftovers?"

Rain nods. "I think Mounty boxed up what was left for us to bring back, it should be over there by the bag with the other gifts."

"Good, I'm going to want dessert later." Aurora grins up at both of them. "I mean, other than the obvious."

Storm chuckles, leaning down to kiss the top of her head. "It was a very good party and yes, very good cake. Thank you both for everything—I feel so extremely fortunate."

It was also exhausting, but that's not their fault—he'd agreed to it, after all, and had caught just enough metaphorical (and literal, in Rain's case, whose hair still smelled of vanilla and Mountain and hardly of Dew's smoky sweetness at all) whiffs of the covert activities of his packmates to guess how the afternoon would really unfold. Had even made plans to give himself a quiet afternoon break in preparation. Unfortunately his student had kept him in the library longer than expected, waffling over decisions that they were utterly enthusiastic about making with his help. He hadn't had the heart to end the conversation until he absolutely had to move on to the next thing in his schedule. Which had left him no time for rest before the party.

"Well, if you think you're done getting presents you're mistaken!" Aurora hoists the bag again, swinging it around and very nearly crashing it against Storm's stomach, dragging him back to earth again. "Happy summoning day~"

With a playful oof, he says, "Starling, what's this? You've already done so much." The bag crinkles as he accepts it from her, though he doesn't look inside to see what it is just yet. It's as light as she kept insisting it was, at least.

"And? Is there a rule about how much I can do that I don't know about?"

"…not that she'd follow it if there was," Rain adds, laughing.

"Touché," Storm says, as he reaches into the bag, shifting aside the glittery pink tissue paper she's padded the bag with. His fingers close around something soft and yielding, and as he carefully pulls it out, he realizes what she's brought him. It's a hank of yarn—merino, he thinks, based on the delicate texture—and as he carries it closer to the windows to get a better look, Aurora and Rain follow behind him.

Once he's in the light he can see that it's dyed in swirling shades of plum, teal, blue, and green, almost iridescent where they intermingle, deepening to near-black in places, and a quick look into the bag confirms that there are several more bundles just like it inside. Enough to let him choose basically any project from his extensive to-knit list.

Between the tissue paper and the bag, he finds the card she's tucked there. He's not surprised to see that the illustration on the front depicts a flock of birds in flight over a small town, silhouetted against a bright blue sky. Opening it, he catches the faintest scent of her favorite perfume as he begins to read.

I can't believe it's already been a year since we saw you rise. You've come a long way from the shy ghoul that Papa summoned, who could hardly be persuaded to sit next to me at the piano because he was afraid he might offend me accidentally. Who was so worried about his debut (for no reason!) that he caused an entire weather system to manifest. Who confessed his feelings to me in the middle of the night while we were crammed into a bunk on a moving tour bus in the middle of Satan-knows-where. Who looks after me, and makes me laugh. Who teaches me things I didn't even know were possible.

You are my sky, and I am your starling. Together we soar.

On top of the events of the day it's a heroic effort to hold back tears now; he fights the feeling of his eyes starting to well up. Clearing his throat and setting yarn and card aside, he sweeps Aurora, who's waiting silently at his side and practically chewing a hole in her lip as she waits for him to react, into a bear hug, her feet dangling easily a foot off the ground when he scoops her up.

He kisses her mouth, her cheek, her neck, taking a steadying breath with his face pressed into her hair. "Thank you." Her arms wrap around his neck, pulling herself tight to him.

"Make something real pretty for yourself, okay? Then you can wear it, and think of me."

"I will." He nods, feeling very called out that she's correctly guessed that the first projects that he'd thought of were ones he'd want to gift to her. But he can make that promise, and it's a fair request for her to make of him. And she's small—maybe if he picks his patterns carefully…

"Good," she replies as he sets her back down. She pulls him in for one more kiss with an impish grin, and he can't resist indulging her. He never can.

When she lets go a moment later she turns and grins at Rain as she passes him on her way to the nest. "Sorry, Rainy, promise I'm not gonna monopolize him all night."

She climbs up the couple of steps to the edge of the platform, then turns and dramatically falls backward into the nest, landing with a soft oof in the middle of its many cushions and covers.

"It almost sounds like you think you could," Rain drawls at her before looking over at Storm with a wink, holding his hand out.

Storm takes it, once more pressing a gentle kiss to Rain's knuckles, as has long since become his habit. He doesn't blush so beautifully every time Storm does it anymore, which is a shame, but Storm considers it a fair trade in exchange for Rain letting him do it any time he wants, even in front of the rest of the pack, despite their pointed and enthusiastic ribbing in the early days.

Trying to pick up the playful banter they're throwing around to keep from getting back in his head, Storm adds, "And it sounds like you think I wouldn't encourage that, siren."

Rain dramatically lifts his free hand, pressing the back of it to his forehead. "Mammon forbid—an overabundance of sexy ghouls vying for your attention."

"Two hardly seems an overabundance," Storm quips back, unthinking, not meaning anything in particular by it. But the way Rain's shoulders shift and the softness of his expression as he takes Storm's hand, tells Storm that he and Aurora absolutely both saw what happened earlier with Mountain.

"I have a feeling you could probably scrounge up at least one or two more if you wanted to." Rain hesitates before adding, "Or did I misread that whole thing earlier?"

"Yeah! Are you gonna ask Mounty out?" Aurora sits up, unable to resist the allure of new potential matchmaking opportunities. Storm can see the wheels already starting to turn in her head—no surprise, given that she's been telling anyone who happens to bring up the subject that she'd been the mastermind behind his relationship with Rain.

She'd certainly encouraged him, helped convince him to risk that kind of vulnerability for a second time in what felt like an absurdly short period of time. Which it is, relative to the lifespan of an immortal soul on a temporary leave of absence from Hell. But if there's anything she's learned from her packmates in her time Up Top, she told him, it's that things here change quickly, and if he doesn't make his peace with that uncertainty, there's a good chance he'll regret his choices later.

And now, can he contemplate doing it again? It's so very soon. He needs to think about it.

Possibly move that higher up the list. How many lists is that, anyway? Need a list of the lists at this point.

Struggling to resist the swirl of his thoughts that undoubtedly reflect in his eyes, Storm looks over at the little plant that he'd insisted on carrying upstairs himself, even after Rain offered to help with it.

He finds himself saying, "I don't know" in a hollow voice that no one recognizes, even himself. It doesn't match their lighthearted questions, and he sees them look at one another and then back to him. Worried.

Exactly what he wanted to avoid.

He very much wants to stop thinking about this until he's more settled. Wants to focus instead on the two beautiful ghouls who've honored him with their time, their gifts, and their presence today. But right now his mind won't stop splintering, reaching in every direction, all at once, seeking ground.

Time for the only thing that helps when he gets like this.

After a still moment, he looks back to them. Squeezing Rain's hand, he and Rain climb into the nest almost as one. Aurora scoots over and Storm settles at her side, pulling her into him, her usual spot. Rain glances at her briefly, a wordless exchange that Storm can't interpret, before the two of them turn him into a very cozy sandwich.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Rain asks, resting one hand against his chest, fingertips tracing tiny circles against the fabric of his shirt.

Aurora nods, mirroring Rain and letting her tail loop around Storm's wrist. "Yeah, if we can help with anything…"

The answer is no, but he waits to respond as if he's considering it, to avoid sounding short, as he often does when he starts to feel overwhelmed.

Instead, he focuses on getting situated between his ghouls, striving to anchor his senses to their solid, warm presence, and the way their scents settle around him, the sound of their breath, so close he can feel it. Taste it. They've both been with him before when he gets like this, although separately; they know what he's asking for even if he's struggling to find the words. Even so, it's bordering on uncomfortable, needing it.

It's not a big request, not on the surface—a few minutes of silence, of stillness. A moment to clear his mind, to sort the cluttered landscape of plans and feelings and sights and sounds and information that invariably accumulate over the course of a day, especially one filled with as much excitement and emotion as today has been.

Below the surface is another matter: his galloping thoughts are part of an iceberg that extends further than anyone might imagine.

Before his summoning, in the Air Circles, it was possible, if he wanted, to go months, years, even decades, without encountering another soul. Here, that isn't an option, though Perpetua—no stranger to the difficulties of adjusting to Ministry life, and already inclined to spoil the ghouls tethered to this plane because he had been the one who called them here—had easily agreed when Storm approached him about finding a space he could call his own, away from the den. And it's helped a lot, but it doesn't fix everything. So this has been his remedy, something he does for himself routinely, a small habit that makes being part of the pack and keeping up with the demands of touring far more tolerable.

And he is adjusting.

The first few months were rough: learning his parts and starting to integrate with the pack was a challenge, but Aurora helped him through it. Tour itself was a total sensory and emotional assault, but he knew what he needed to do and what was expected of him, the schedule was consistent, and he was encouraged to accommodate himself during off hours, for the most part. Back then, he would take long breaks for this sort of disconnected self-isolation several times a day. And their time on stage was blissfully free of stress despite it all, which cannot be coincidence—music and worship are a single practice for him, and demand his full attention, mentally and physically. He was grateful every night that it left no room for anything troubling to fill his mind for even a few hours, even if it all tended to catch up with him in the crash, after.

Every transition is disruptive, from the Ministry to the road and back again a few times before they return at last without a firm timeline for the future. Some days are better than others. But his need to completely remove himself from nearly all external stimulation is lesser, now. Not gone, but less. He needs far fewer breaks, and shorter ones, now that he's largely able to set his own routines and schedules, and to make Aurora- and Rain-shaped spaces in his life that have opened doors he couldn't have imagined.

Having them around helps the hard times pass more easily, though he still struggles with letting them see.

Asking Rain and Aurora to be part of this requires him to step outside of the framework of their respective relationships. It's been difficult to let go, even temporarily, of a certain predictability, and of his drive to support, to provide, to see what's needed and make it happen even without having to hear the request. To ask them to stay when he doesn't have enough to share, even though he wants to give them everything.

He struggles with acknowledging that there are times he has to step back and go inside himself for a little while. It feels like doing it is somehow letting them down, even though he knows full well that tending to his own needs now means he'll be able to better look after theirs later. It absolutely terrifies him that, by showing them this side of him, they'll decide he's not actually able to take care of them if he can't even keep on top of his own needs.

But they are pack, and beyond that, they are his, and he is theirs. And there's a small and growing part of him that doesn't want to ask them to leave anymore. Progress. Something to nurture—and nurturing, he understands like it's woven into his very soul.

It's getting easier, but it's still not easy.

He sighs. How long has he been laying here, not responding to Aurora?

Lost in your thoughts as usual. What was the question, again? Ah.

"Not yet, I think. Thank you." He presses a kiss to Rain's forehead, then turns and does the same to Aurora's.

"Okay." Rain nods, letting out a long, slow sigh as his body relaxes into Storm's, tail curling around one ankle and anchoring there. He's trying to help, even though Storm can tell that such stillness isn't second nature to Rain like it is to him. Water wants to flow, and still water is often stagnant.

Storm wonders if someone in his own family tree was Earth.

"Just let us know if you change your mind, okay?" Aurora's voice is soft as she reaches up, stroking his hair, letting her claws graze against his scalp, something they've discovered is just distracting enough to break through the endless loop without dragging him onto another path.

Breathing deeply and letting his eyes shut, Storm falls silent.

He feels Rain and Aurora's hands reach for each other, a finger or two twining together where they rest against the center of his chest, and in truth it feels as if their combined embrace, the way they curl around him, instinctually and intentionally protective, is the only thing that keeps him from floating away and straight out the window like a child's lost balloon.

After he takes some time to think of absolutely nothing at all, focusing solely on observing his senses—the softness of his nest, the warmth of his companions' bodies, the sweetness of the scents they wear that, however subtly, mark them as correct, as his, the gentle sound of wind chimes and three bodies breathing—he starts to purr.

He lingers in this space a bit, waiting for the heaviness to lift.

When it does, when breathing gets easier, he's able to come back to that cluttered mental landscape and examine it without the urgency that pushes him toward panic. He takes the time to put away each distracting thought and feeling. He sorts them into tidy piles, prioritizes some and tucks others away to revisit later. It's never perfect, but it's better. Less.

There's always a moment where he feels it relent, whatever it is about these moods that coils around his insides while overheating his brain. Today he's surprised at how quickly relief comes.

Proof that this is working, hard-earned though it is.

He sobs.

It shocks him as much as it does Rain and Aurora, who both shake off the quiet drowsiness of their tiny ghoul pile at once as they simultaneously squeeze him tighter, pressing their faces into his neck on both sides. Storm clutches at them both, shaking his head.

"Hey. It's all right. We're not going anywhere," Rain whispers against his skin, nuzzling close.

"Rainy's right. You can't get rid of us that easy." Aurora wipes away the tears that run into his beard, planting a line of tiny, soft kisses there instead.

Storm's voice cracks the first time he tries to speak.

"No, I'm—"

He coughs, and tries again, finally opening his eyes so he can look at them properly.

"I'm so lucky." The tears still flow, but there's a smile on his face and a light dancing in his eyes again.

He kisses each of them in turn, reverent.

"The Princes look upon me—upon us—with favor, I know it. This is the proof."

Rain's watching him carefully, trying to understand. "You're crying because you're happy?"

Storm's far too pinned down to actually shrug, but he shifts his shoulders in a close approximation.

"I don't think it's that simple, but—I'm good. Better, anyway. Because of you. Both of you."

"You know we'd do just about anything for you, right?" Aurora touches his cheek, and he nuzzles into it without hesitating.

"Still getting used to the idea." Storm sniffles, too wrung out to even feel embarrassed about it.

Rain, familiar with where Storm stashes a small supply of soft towels for cleanup, retrieves one for him now, pressing it into his hand without a word.

Storm sits up a little, wiping his face and blowing his nose. "All of this—the good things and the difficult ones—I never could have imagined what was waiting for me on the other side of that summoning circle. So much has changed."

"Sounds familiar. I feel that way every year on ours," Rain says. "It's never any less surprising when I look back at everything that's happened from one to the next."

Aurora looks thoughtful as she starts to trace a gentle path with her hand from Storm's wrist to his elbow, shoulder, and down over his chest and stomach before coming back to his hand and starting the circle again. Slow and steady.

"You didn't have a pack?"

He shakes his head. "Not since I was much younger. It was always—" He finds Rain's hand, pulls it into his lap and holds it. "It was easier to be alone. But maybe not anymore."

Rain and Aurora exchange another long look before Rain stretches out against Storm again, while Aurora takes Storm's other hand in both of her small ones. She starts to massage it—something Storm's done for her dozens of times, but he's never let her return the favor, insisting it would ruin all his hard work if she just made hers sore again.

"Let us spoil you, just for tonight. You do so much." Rain nuzzles into Storm's neck, keeping his touch gentle, unhurried.

Storm makes a thoughtful noise, arching back a little to give Rain better access. His mouth, just slightly cooler than Storm's skin, feels soothing as Rain kisses him there. "You two have been plotting together against me, haven't you." It's not a question, not really.

"I seem to recall you saying, and I quote, "But the subterfuge is fun,"" Rain hums, "I don't know what you expected." He leans in to suck Storm's earlobe into his mouth, just barely worrying at it with his teeth, ever so gently giving it a soft tug.

Storm did, in fact, say that, and the memory of Rain that night, in combination with the way the water ghoul's touching him now, stirs up a purr from deep in his chest. "Nothing less." Storm squeezes Rain's hand, and Rain squeezes back. "Though I'm afraid I'm not going to be good for much else tonight. Today took more out of me than I expected."

Rain sits up a little, letting the faintest hint of the more serious tone he'd taken earlier creep back into his voice, but Storm hears the care underneath it as he looks Storm directly in the eyes. "You don't have to do anything except be here with us. All right?"

Storm nods, reaching up to cup Rain's cheek, grazing his thumb back and forth a little.

"I can do that." He doesn't trust himself to speak at length just yet.

"Good." Rain leans in and kisses him, slow and sweet. Undemanding.

Aurora brings Storm's hand to her mouth as Rain starts to nibble his way to his neck again. She kisses each knuckle, one at a time, working her way up from his fingertips. "You have such beautiful hands, did I ever tell you that?"

"Only once or twice a week since the very first time we sat down at a piano together," Storm says.

She'd been waiting for him in the rehearsal room, probably at least as nervous as he had been. He'd quickly been charmed by her kindness, and her grace, as she patiently walked him through the setlist and the equipment, their practices quickly turning into duets as he started finding his place in the harmony.

"Well, it's because it's true." She grins, crawling up next to him. "So can we?"

"Can you what?" Storm blinks up at her, mildly distracted by the memory and the way one of Rain's hands has found its way under his shirt, slowly dragging cool fingertips through his chest hair.

"Spoil you!" She leans in, pecking Storm's lips. "I left my strap downstairs though, because someone said it would be too much." Her exaggerated eye roll is all for effect, because he catches her smirk at Rain and the way her eyes immediately flit to Storm's to gauge his reaction.

He can't help but to laugh. She's absolutely adorable and entirely devious. He never stood a chance.

In response to Aurora's pointed assertion, Rain makes a noise of affirmation, cupping his hand against Storm's chest as it bounces slightly. "She did. I double checked."

Aurora gasps at him. "Rude!"

"I didn't say who it would be too much for, did I? Wanted to make sure you weren't gonna try to use it on me." He gives her a mischievous grin, prompting Storm to chime in.

"Well now you're just giving me ideas," Storm says, and this time they all laugh.

Rain and Aurora are a dangerous team. In no time at all, and with hardly a word of discussion, they smoothly take turns undressing Storm and then themselves, one of them staying with him while the other folds a garment, turns on some music, gets them all glasses of water, opens a window for some fresh air. Rain finds a little dish nearby that Storm's put there for him to drop his jewelry into, letting his hair loose, and Aurora unbraids her pigtails, too, filling the air with the scent of her shampoo—crisp green apples and tart stone fruit, with a hint of something herbal winding through it.

Storm couldn't possibly know that they'd cooked up this plan while soaking side-by-side in the ghoulettes' giant bathtub, bubbles stacked high around them, face masks in place as they sipped their way through an entire pitcher of sangria one long lazy afternoon not too long ago. It was still a good plan, even if some of the particulars might need to be adjusted.

Storm closes his eyes, listening as the two of them whisper to each other, feels them settle, Aurora near his head and Rain near his feet. They cover his body with kisses and wandering hands, tracing slow, careful paths over every inch of his skin as they move in opposite directions, circling around and around, nearly reverent in their ministrations.

They ignore his weeping cock, which naturally takes an interest, perfectly content to lavish him in patient adoration and affectionate sensations that ground him into his body further. Right now they're focused on a different kind of pleasure.

A brief territorial skirmish erupts, the front lines marked by purpling bite marks—one set large, and one small—on his inner thighs. Aurora makes hers into the outline of a heart, while Rain lets himself be guided by desire and instinct, finding the spots that draw our soft groans and clenched fingers, then relieved sighs from Storm. Rain's mouth shines with the faintest red gleam, but Storm refuses his apology with a blissed-out smile.

Just when he's convinced that they've covered him entirely with their attentions, Aurora prods his shoulder and Rain tugs at his hand, encouraging him to roll onto his stomach. He starts to protest but they insist, hushing him by taking turns getting their tongues in his mouth again until he complies.

Rain plants himself firmly on Storm's lower back to ensure he stays put, drawing a quiet pleased groan from Storm at the pressure, which feels surprisingly good.

Eyes shut and face buried in his folded arms, tail occasionally thumping against the bedding, Storm hears Rain uncap something, then a brief liquid sound, before he feels Rain's hands, nearly as big as his own, splayed out over his back, spreading a thin layer of massage oil that gently warms Storm's skin under his touch. He methodically works his way from Storm's shoulders to his waist, working careful fingers into the knots of tension he finds. At the same time, Aurora uses the same oil to massage Storm's arms and legs, pulling each limb into her lap in turn and sing-songing praise along with the music as she goes, unable to resist dropping little kisses over each spot before she moves along to the next.

With the little bit of brainpower he has left when they're done reducing him to a purring lump of ghoul flesh, he fully expects them to join him in stretching out in the nest and falling asleep, which he's been feeling on the verge of. Rain's weight leaves his back, though not before he feels him kiss a soft line along his shoulders, and Aurora disappears into the bathroom.

Storm's far too muzzy to recognize the silence as a sign that they're not done with him yet.

He's just about to drift off anyway despite his best efforts to stay with them, when he feels Rain's hands on him again, his weight now settling between Storm's ankles.

The way Rain cradles Storm's cheeks isn't intense enough that he'd call it a grope, but it's a deep squeeze of heavy appreciation as Rain says something Storm doesn't quite make out. When Storm doesn't respond, Rain stretches up, pressing himself against Storm's back and trying again, hands still firmly planted.

"Want to make you feel good," he murmurs in a quiet, gentle tone. Storm wants to pull him into the tightest hug ever, but his arms feel like they weigh several tons each just now.

"'m amazing," Storm manages, though it's muffled by the pillow he's cuddled into. He hasn't felt this relaxed in—well, probably ever, if he's being honest with himself.

"No, I mean…" Rain squeezes again, spreading Storm open a little to make his point.

It still takes a second to sink in.

Storm's tail, having long gone still and relaxed, thuds against the bedding again.

"Oh."

"Is that okay?" Rain kisses his neck, feather-soft. "Entirely up to you."

Storm tries to answer but finds himself feeling—loved. Suddenly, deeply and overwhelmingly so. But instead of making him want to implode at the intensity, a shiver runs along his spine, from where Rain kissed his neck and running all the way down his tail.

Since his voice has temporarily evacuated the premises, he nods. As emphatically as he can manage, enough that he feels Rain retreat, slowly kissing his way down Storm's spine as he moves back to kneeling again.

He feels Aurora's hands, hesitant, gentle, take the spade of his tail, pressing it between her palms, then kissing it, which is another whole universe of sensation that he doesn't have time to think about for very long.

Because Rain's clever hands spread him open again and then he can feel both of their mouths on him, and he's exquisitely sensitive, body and mind both too relaxed to do anything but receive the pleasure they patiently lave into his skin.

Rain is unable to keep quiet as he tongues Storm open with slow, patient licks before pressing the tip inside with a needy moan, and Storm's cock begins to ache.

Aurora surrounds the spaded tip of his tail with the wet heat of her mouth, tracing her tongue along the ridges, beginning to stroke the velvety length of it, from the base of his spine and outward, over and over again. With a fleeting thought he doesn't quite keep hold of, he wonders how she'd feel about putting it somewhere else that's warm and wet, because while he can't be sure without looking, he's dimly aware of the rising scent of her, and it sounds like she might be keeping her other hand occupied with her own pleasure.

He can feel a damp spot spreading underneath him as he lazily grinds into the bedding, vaguely aware that he can't go on like this much longer, it's too much for even a ghoul to withstand, but how could he possibly care? He wants this forever, but forever is something they can work on one day at a time.

And so, when their joint effort finally draws Storm to the edge, whimpering and shaking, it's more like a gentle push off of the steepest cliff imaginable. He can still feel the nest, hear the chimes outside, can still feel their hands and mouths and tongues as they steady him into it, can hear their encouraging moans and choruses of 'yes, please, for us, yes'—up until the moment that he's hurtling through space, gone, shouting himself hoarse into the cushion he's got shoved against his face as his body suddenly flexes every muscle at once, curling into himself, and then going still.

One of them fetches a warm, wet cloth, and the other follows behind with a dry towel. Together they sponge away the sweat at the small of his back, at his forehead and temples. They coax him onto his back once more, removing the wet bedding and, nearly fighting for the privilege, licking away the remaining evidence of his pleasure—together.

Then they curl around him again, clutching each others' hands atop his chest, a pair of parentheses containing the night's ghoul of honor, who has finally, at long last, found himself content and still, at home, feeling more understood than he ever thought it was possible to be.

Warnings:

Well it's the big fucking chapter--literally. Explicit sex in this chapter--oral, intercrural, and vaginal. Daddy kink that hopefully isn't too much of a surprise at this point. Full taglist is updated on AO3.

Credits/etc

Chapter 9: cabaletta

The floor of the warehfinisouse was hard; the nest is anything but.

So Rain doesn't get the air knocked out of his lungs this time. He's breathless anyway.

Above him, scarf coming loose and eyes wild, Storm watches as Rain's pupils blow wide. Can feel Rain's heart pounding under the wide spread of his hand.

Rain expects something sudden, for Storm to crash their mouths together with an equal ferocity, maybe. Instead, he unfurls like a distant roll of thunder. He nudges Rain's knees apart, climbs over him, and gently drops down. Doesn't need to hold Rain in place with a hand on his chest anymore, because he's got Rain pinned down with his whole body.

Storm shifts some weight to his knees, rolls his hips in one slow, merciless motion, and drags a keening whine from Rain's throat.

And that's when he lowers his mouth to Rain's, pressing a firm kiss there, then his cheek, the corner of his jaw, before settling his lips against Rain's neck, on a mission to find and catalog every sensitive spot from here to his collarbones.

It's instantly deep and needy, Rain clutching at Storm's shoulders, hands in his hair, hips chasing contact. When Storm drags his tongue along the full length of one gill, slow and deliberate, he grinds against Rain again, allowing him a few aching seconds of contact before he shifts back, just out of reach. Rain whines in protest.

"Patience, siren," Storm murmurs. "You've got me. And I've got you. Come here."

With a frustrated whine, Rain pulls Storm into another kiss, hands cradled on either side of his face. Resting his forehead against Storm's as he breaks the kiss. Face flushed, skin damp, a few stray curls stuck to his cheek, he says, "If you don't touch me soon, sailor, I might combust. Which is quite the feat for a water ghoul, in case you didn't know."

Storm laughs, bumping his nose against Rain's. "Sounds like one of us is going to have to take one for the team."

"Your honorable sacrifice is noted." Rain sniffs.

"Lean back, then, and let me get started on those hundred thousand pleasures I promised you."

Rain stretches back as Storm slides his hands along Rain's thighs, cradles his hips, traces his waistband. They make silent eye contact as Storm undoes the button and the zipper of Rain's jeans. Rain helps him shimmy them down over his hips, peeling his socks off for good measure. Storm sets every piece aside with care, as if they're sorting ritual garments in the chapel again.

"I wasn't joking about the towels, by the way. Is there something I can grab?" Rain glances over at the bathroom. If he'd have thought about it earlier—but then again, he wasn't thinking that far ahead when he was in there before.

"Hm?" Storm's tugging his own sweater off, and folding the scarf before placing it atop the growing pile of clothes.

"The whole water ghoul thing…" Rain says, sitting up and starting to unbutton Storm's shirt, impatient. "You kind of get used to the extra laundry, but I don't want to mess up your nest or anything."

"You could never," Storm hums, shrugging off the shirt when Rain reaches the last button.

He's barely had time to fold it and put it on the pile when Rain's running both hands over his chest and shoulders, grinning like he's been presented with a pirate's hoard.

Storm can't help but to bask a little in the attention, at the way Rain looks at him. "We should be good, though. Waterproof blankets."

Rain looks at him, then down at the bedding they're kneeling on more closely. Huh.

"What? You're not the only one who can ask a certain someone for help, you know." A clear tease, this time, accompanied by a gentle smile.

"Remind me to thank her again." Rain laughs and reclines, long legs pleasantly loose as Storm chuckles, adjusting the bedding, only content once Rain's ensconced on a throne of cushions that elevate his hips and provide gentle support for his knees. He rolls the malachite pendant between the fingers of one hand, reaching for his wine with the other and managing to look regal, clad in nothing a pair of underwear that cling to his hips like they're on a mission from Asmodeus himself. They're a deep indigo shade, cut high on the legs, thin, silky fabric with a v-shaped waistband that's trimmed in chunky lace. Nothing elaborate, but he's always loved the way they look against the soft blue-gray hue of his Topside form's skin.

It's Storm's turn to look like he's just unwrapped the best present of the night. He traces the pads of his fingers down Rain's belly as he kneels between Rain's legs, eyes dark with intent.

"You're one of the most beautiful creatures I've ever seen, you know."

Grazing over the waistband, his hand trails down Rain's hip, the inside of his thigh and knee, and along his calf and ankle before, with a sly grin, he squeezes the arch of Rain's foot.

Rain's toes curl in response and he gives Storm an appraising look, asking with a grin, "I guess this technically counts as a third date, huh?"

Storm grins back, wiggling the tip of his tongue at Rain as he bends at the waist, pressing a kiss to the inside of one of Rain's thighs.

"Technically? I suppose it does. Pretty as they are, though—just like the rest of you, exquisite—I have something else on my mind just now."

Rain's water ghoul nature is evident as Storm noses along his thigh, slow and reverent, inching closer to where Rain's already starting to dampen the fabric of his underwear. Storm follows the heady scent to the source, stretching out onto his stomach as he presses his mouth to Rain's mound.

At first it's gentle, the barest graze, teasing and feather-light, but soon Storm's pressing pursed lips against the heat of him, sliding up and down over the spot where Rain's already chubbed up and desperate. Rain's hands settle against the back of his head—pleading, not pushing. Storm runs the tip of his tongue along Rain's folds and the water ghoul whimpers as if the thin fabric, growing increasingly sodden, doesn't exist.

Storm lolls his tongue out, allowing spit to gather, almost dripping off, before he presses it against Rain all at once.

Rain gasps, thighs twitching, as Storm's mouth surrounds him with wet heat and gentle suction. His fingers twist in Storm's hair as he tries to grind back against his face, but the air ghoul's grasp on his hips is resolute.

In a brief moment of coherence before Storm begins to methodically take him apart, Rain thinks about stopping him to make sure he's aware of some of the finer points of water ghoul biology, but just as he's about to say something, Storm pulls away, face shining wet, before tugging Rain's underwear off in a long, smooth movement. Then, with the same ease that he caught Aurora, and swung a sledgehammer like it weighed almost nothing at all, Storm moves closer, rising to his knees, lifting Rain's legs. He holds Rain there, dark hair spread out across the bedding, lower back propped against Storm's stomach, tail curled to one side and lashing curiously, while his heels drape over Storm's shoulders. Storm presses a kiss to the inside of Rain's leg again, this time on the other side. "How long I've wanted to taste you. And it's even better than I imagined."

He hoists Rain's hips higher, hands curving to support his legs as they fall open. Rain feels the tremor in Storm's grip when he takes a moment to absorb the sight of him, spread wide and wanting, hears his quiet groan before he lowers his mouth in reverent worship.

The first direct touch of his tongue is not unlike a lightning bolt. Rain's spine goes fuzzy and every nerve in his body lights up as Storm tastes him: warm, wide strokes applied with the patience of a ghoul prepared to spend centuries doing exactly this. Rain realizes that the high whine that he hears is coming from his own mouth, and that as hard as his hips wrenched at that first contact, he's going to have bruises in the shape of several fingerprints from where Storm maintains his grip like the very important responsibility he considers it to be.

As skilled as Storm is with his hands, Rain isn't surprised that his mouth is just as talented, lips and tongue drawing obscene noises from the water ghoul. Rain finds his focus pleasantly and forcibly narrowed to the simple, deeply intoxicating way Storm's mouth makes him feel.

Once he's got Rain entranced, cock-drunk in reverse, Storm's nose traces a careful line along the underside of Rain's length, proud and pretty where it sits above the deep slick heat of him. Shifting his hold on Rain's hips, Storm teases his tongue against that heat as Rain's legs relax, opening up, making more room for him.

"Please—"

"What's that, siren?"

"I need it. Need you."

"I know." Rain feels Storm's breath dance over wet skin, close and warm. His tongue presses in and Rain makes a broken sound, fists balling against Storm's thighs.

Storm fucks his tongue into Rain, rocking Rain's hips at an agonizing pace, slow and deliberate, his nose sliding against Rain's cock with each thrust, slick spreading.

"Storm—fuck—" Rain's hips shake in reflex, but Storm just grips him tighter and groans into him, tongue plunging deep as only a ghoul's can.

Rain's hips jerk again. He drags a hand up his torso and rolls one nipple between his fingers. It's almost too much. It's not enough.

"Fuuuuuuck." He lets out a low groan, head rolling sideways. He wants more. Needs more. "Your fingers. Please. And your mouth."

Storm makes a deep, greedy noise, lapping at Rain's cunt with one final slow stroke of his tongue before he guides Rain's hips back down to the bedding.

In the soft tower light, his face, beard, and even his chest glisten with his devotion to Rain. He pauses for a moment to unfasten his belt and trousers, setting them aside. Rain takes the opportunity to collect his shirt, placing it in Storm's waiting hand, which returns soon after to cradle his cheek.

"Do you want me to make you come?" His grip shifts, thumb angling under Rain's chin as he presses the tips of two fingers, claws glamoured away now, against Rain's barely parted lips.

"Yes." Rain whispers, opening his mouth. Is rewarded by the slide of Storm's fingers, two knuckles deep and pushing down against his tongue.

"Do you need me to make you come?"

"Fuck yes," Rain warbles around Storm's fingers despite how they keep his mouth from working properly. They press in further, force him to relax his throat until they're fully seated at the last knuckle, Rain's head tipping back as his brain slowly disconnects from anything and anywhere other than this, here and now.

"That's a good boy. Show me how you like to be touched."

Rain whines as his stomach does that thing again, compounded by the sensation of Storm pulling his fingers from Rain's mouth and, as Rain settles a finger along either side of his aching clit, pressing one inside Rain with no resistance.

"You're so fucking wet, siren. Going to drown me. I want you to." He adds a second finger, still sliding in easily, slick as Rain is for him. From him.

"Keep going. I will." Rain's voice finds a new register when Storm turns his wrist a little, presses deeper.

Storm grins and does it again, while Rain jerks himself off with trembling fingers. He's so wet, it's sloppy, their hands moving in an unsteady syncopation that hasn't quite found the pocket yet.

Gathering more slick, Storm works in a third. "I don't even have you back in my mouth yet and you're already making such luscious sounds."

Rain keens, hips coming up off the blanket as his heels dig in. "Lucifer below, I fucking hate you."

It's a shame Rain's eyes are shut tight, missing the hungry, pleased smile Storm gives him. "No you don't, pretty ghoul. You're doing so good for me." He runs his free hand up along Rain's thigh, ghosting his fingers over where Rain strokes himself as Rain whines, pressing up into the contact. "Are you ready for my mouth now?"

The strangled noise that Rain makes doesn't exist in any language that Storm recognizes.

"Words, princess," he teases, feeling Rain clench around him.

Rain begs so beautifully.

"Please. Please suck my cock—fuck, your fingers feel so good, I need you, I need more, please—"

Storm smiles indulgently as he stretches out between Rain's legs again.

"Good. Take what you need. It's yours."

He lowers his mouth, surrounding Rain with an irresistible, welcoming heat.

With a groan, Rain grasps the base of Storm's horns and, still half expecting Storm to stop him, starts to grind. Storm angles his wrist as Rain rocks, curling his fingers and feeling Rain start to drip around him. Rain controls the pace as he fucks up into Storm's mouth, coaxing soft moans from the air ghoul as he strokes the smooth ridges of his horns. Moans that press into Rain's cunt, cradle his cock, coat Storm's face in slick as Rain chases release.

It doesn't take long for Rain to find a sweet spot and ride it like he's running down a rabbit, clutching and clenching as he gasps Storm's name and his body gives a great shuddering gush. The pulsations that ripple through his cunt pull at Storm's fingers as he works him through it, gentling him with shallow strokes and soft kisses against his throbbing clit, until Rain goes quiet and still.

Storm withdraws his fingers with great care, slides them into his mouth with a hunger that has yet to be sated. Licking them clean, he curls up next to Rain, opening and holding out a water bottle.

Rain accepts the water, taking a long drink and offering the bottle back to Storm, who drains most of what's left.

There's also a small stack of hand towels stashed behind some pillows, it turns out; Storm gives one to Rain and they both mop up before cuddling into each other.

"Fuck, you're good at that. Now—" Rain faceplants directly into Storm's chest, rubbing against the dense, downy curls of silvery hair, scenting him. When Storm laughs, Rain leans back and adds, "I've been thinking about this for weeks," before going right back to it.

"Don't let me stop you," Storm chuckles, throwing back the last of the wine.

When Rain's had his fill, and before his clever fingers get the chance to start wandering too far, Storm clears his throat.

"I want to draw you. Would you let me?"

"Right now?" Rain's head tilts.

Storm kisses him again before answering, hand curled possessively around the back of Rain's neck, fingers tangled in his hair at the nape. "Yes, now. Because I certainly don't plan for either of us have enough energy for it later."

"Good answer." Rain grins, then hooks a finger in the waistband of Storm's underwear, fangs glinting. "Only if you take these off. If this counts as a third date, then you owe me the goods. And I want the goods!"

Storm shrugs, untangling himself just enough to slide them off and toss them next to Rain's.

"Fair's fair," he says, eyes bright as he reaches for the journal and opens it to where it's already marked with a pencil tucked inside—a blank page very near the end.

As he does so, Rain's free to catch an eyeful, letting his gaze linger on the dusting of soft silvery curls that cover Storm's chest, belly, and legs, contrasting against the deeper gray of his skin. The way those curls thicken and grow darker and denser at the juncture of his thighs, framing a cock that hangs, half-hard and heavy, before coming to rest against Storm's leg when he settles himself across from Rain.

"Put the sweater on?" Storm asks, already starting to block in the page.

"Hm?" Rain misses the question, distracted.

"The sweater," Storm gestures at it, laying to one side of the nest, where Rain discarded it earlier. "Put it on?"

"Just the sweater? Like this?" Rain reaches for it, slides his arms into the sleeves again, adjusts his hair so it's not stuck inside the collar.

"Yes, but let it down off you shoulders, like—yes, exactly." Storm nods, smiling as Rain adjusts with his direction. "And stretch to that side a little. Bend your knee? Not that much—perfect. Hold that."

Rain isn't sure where he's supposed to look, but finds himself quickly fascinated watching Storm. It's the first time he's had the chance to see him draw—maybe the first time Storm's felt comfortable letting him. His hands move with confidence, steady and sure, eyes shifting between the page and his subject, with occasional pauses to do nothing but look at Rain while Rain does his best to stay still. Rain isn't sure if that's part of the process or just Storm enjoying the way Rain looks in his nest.

Possibly it's both, but he's never minded being admired.

On the third long pause, Storm takes a moment to adjust—to Rain's great delight, he's been getting harder, little by little, as he sketches. Storm allows himself a few lazy tugs, accompanied by a wink.

"You're being mean," Rain whines, "You told me not to move."

"I did," Storm says, pencil scratching across the paper again. Adding shadows, erasing highlights. "And I know you want this to be good, so you'll stay right there until I'm finished."

"I'm going to bite you."

"Wouldn't be the first time." Storm grins, before putting a finger on his lips and turning his focus back to the journal. "I'll be done soon."

And a few minutes later, he is. When he shows Rain, handing him the open book to look at it up close, Rain stares for a long time, quiet.

It's a beautiful portrait, with a surprising amount of detail for maybe 20 minutes of effort, though Rain only really knows that with the same amount of time, his would look like it was drawn by a kit who's still getting the hang of coloring between the lines.

Storm's version, despite being a pencil sketch, somehow manages to capture the gentle tower light and the just-fucked flush on Rain's cheeks and chest. In the portrait, he's looking off to the side, Dew's braids are less unruly than in reality, one fang just barely dimples his lower lip, and the gills along the side of his throat are flared. He looks powerful. Regal. Ravished.

"It's beautiful. But don't you want one for yourself?" Rain knows from paging through earlier that the journal contains more than a few drawings of him—even ones in older band uniforms, which has him intensely curious how that came about—but Storm shrugs.

"I can always draw you again later."

"I think you should have this one. I want you to." Rain hands the journal back to Storm. "You can always draw me again later, right?" He grins, flopping back against the pillows, stretching his legs, toes curling and poking against Storm's knee.

"You're incorrigible." Storm shakes his head, but he's smiling. He flattens the journal out, scoring the page near the binding and doing his best to tear the page neatly. Except for one corner, it works, and he takes the drawing and tucks it inside the closest book, stacking the journal on top of it nearby.

"You love it," Rain says, holding his hands out expectantly. "Now get over here."

When Storm gets to Rain, instead of falling into the nest next to him, he pulls him up by the hands, so they're facing one another, on their knees.

"Hi." Storm grins at Rain.

"Hi," Rain smiles back, leaving one hand in Storm's while his other traces along Storm's hip. If he curves his hand just so, and pulls—

Storm's about to say something, but instead they both make soft, needy sounds as Storm's cock, having been given absolutely zero reason to change its mind about anything and now fully hard, slips between Rain's thighs, close enough that they can both feel the wet heat of one another. Rain's palm is going to have marks where Storm's claws dig in as the air ghoul's whole body shudders.

"Fuck—" Storm hisses through clenched teeth as Rain grins, merciless.

Relishing the opening left by this surprise advance, Rain shifts his weight side to side a little, thighs slick, teasing, pressing closer and closer until their bellies touch. With agonizing control, he drags back along Storm's length, letting the head rock against his own little cock, already standing at attention again, with shallow strokes. Teasing. Tempting.

"Want to touch you." Rain practically bats his eyelashes at Storm, who's still rebooting.

"Extremely certain that you are touching me, siren," Storm says in a strangled voice as Rain rolls his hips again then makes a little space between them.

"Not enough," Rain says, reaching even as his eyes stay focused on Storm's. "Can I?"

Storm swallows back something that's closer to a whine than he'd like to admit. "Yes. Please."

Rain's hands, strong and capable and elegant, move down to wrap around the velvety warm length of him. Cup him from below. Rain's first stroke is deliberate, not tentative in any way, but exploratory. Learning.

He's a quick study. All ghouls are.

Storm's forehead rests against Rain's shoulder, hands loose at the water ghoul's waist, and Rain finds the noises he's able to wring out of him very interesting—especially when he leans in, tasting his skin and pressing wet kisses into Storm's exposed neck. Rain makes a small curious sound, feels Storm's eager nod of permission, and seals his lips tight, letting his teeth graze against the skin and sucking a dark mark into his shoulder as Storm leaks pre into his hand.

Rain, voice pitched for maximum damage, breathes into his ear. "Unholy Father, you feel amazing. I can't believe you made me wait this long."

And whether Storm was planning to let Rain dig himself deeper, or if it's just too much to bear, something changes. His grip on Rain's waist tightens and his head comes up. He catches Rain's mouth in a searing kiss before shifting and turning them both, spinning Rain around.

One hand in the middle of Rain's chest again, Storm pulls Rain's hips into his with the other, his cock sliding between Rain's thighs once more, this time from behind. The head, already ruddy and slick, peeks out from just below his cunt, right where Rain's cock juts out from between his folds.

Rain, held upright, grinds back into Storm. Relishes the spark of mixed pleasurepain when he feels Storm's hot breath and the pressure of lips and teeth, dragging against his shoulder.

Loses his breath when he opens his eyes and realizes that Storm's placed them directly opposite the mirror, and he can see just how tight Storm's grip is, the desire painted on his own face, Storm's reverence as he kisses Rain's skin and hair, and the way their bodies fit together like this.

The echo of a memory stirs—he remembers what Storm said about enjoying when they can both watch Rain lose his composure.

He's going to take Rain apart in front of this mirror and Rain is going to have to watch him do it.

Storm catches Rain's gasp, looks up in time to make eye contact with him in the glass as his hips make a full stroke against Rain's. Storm's hand moves to cup one side of Rain's chest, fingers splayed against his ribs, palm pressed close, thumb grazing back and forth over the nipple.

Rain's hips twitch, thighs squeezing together as he lets out a shaky breath, tail lashing where it's trapped between them. He can't do anything but watch Storm's cock disappear and reappear as he thrusts between Rain's legs, sliding against him, chasing every brief moment of friction when he can feel Storm drag against his clit, despite Storm's firm grasp on his hip and chest. The only thing keeping him from leaning over, changing the angle, taking advantage of the fact that Rain is absolutely dripping again to—

"Putitinputitin—please—" Rain rocks against Storm out of tempo, patience unraveling far too quickly to regain the upper hand. But he's always been willing to let Storm hold the lead—metaphorically, though they should talk about that—and so far it's going pretty well, so why stop now?

"What's that, siren?" Storm rolls his hips in a way that Rain wouldn't have described as vicious before, but in combination with the way his fangs gleam in the tower light, in such close proximity to Rain's neck, that's how it lands as Rain watches him thrust again, so close but so frustratingly far from what he wants.

Needs.

Rain writhes as the hand that holds his hips shifts, as Storm's fingertips settle around his length like Rain showed him, stroking in time with every shallow thrust.

"Fuck! Please," Rain repeats, seeing the hunger in his own eyes, the way it lands in Storm's, whose eyes are a near-constant glimmer now, and not just from the twinkling lights that surround them. "I need—hnnn—fuck me, d—"

It almost slips out of Rain's mouth, unconsidered, unprompted, and unbidden, but he swallows it and feels his heart start to gallop. He stares at his own reflection as if he can demand answers from it.

Where the fuck did that come from?

His eyes race to meet Storm's in the mirror, and his stomach drops.

Rain knows, despite himself, despite any incorrect assumptions he may have had in the beginning, that Storm misses nothing. And right now he's smiling like a fox let loose in an entire barn full of chickens as Rain's face and chest go hot and pink.

That's still soaking in as he watches Storm lean close, lick against the edges of his gills, when Rain feels the warm hum of breath near his ear, the tickle of his beard against his neck.

Casual as can be, Storm purrs, "What was that, pretty ghoul?"

Rain answers as evenly as he can. Which is, to be honest, not very—it's quiet and wrecked, against his best efforts. But he's still valiantly trying to play the game of chase in spite of the fact that in truth he's been thoroughly ensnared for some time now.

"I want you to fuck me."

Storm goes still, voice dropping into a soft, dangerous tone as he holds Rain, somehow, tighter and closer. "That's not what you were going to say."

Rain whines.

Storm nips at Rain's neck, rocking between Rain's thighs as if punctuating his instructions. "Try again."

Rain groans, hips flexing with no thought or restraint. His face is warm, he's disarmed, and he craves everything that Storm dangles entirely within reach, if Rain's willing to meet him in uncharted waters.

Given everything, it's a terrifyingly easy decision.

He turns his head to the side, dragging his lips against the corner of Storm's, awkward but endearing in his clear, overwhelming need.

"Fuck me, daddy."

"Good boy. I knew you could do it, so good for me, Rainy. And good boys…" Storm exhales, his hold on Rain shifting in an instant as he changes the angles of their hips, lines up, and sinks in entirely, all at once.

"…get what they ask for."

Both ghouls make an unholy noise, clutching at one another. Everything goes still.

With Storm holding him in place, Rain has little choice but to watch in the mirror. To absorb every shifting micro-expression as Storm presses into him, slowly at first. Anticipation. Tenderness. The way he almost loses himself in the wet press of Rain's cunt squeezing around him for the first time, eyes closed as he carves out a space for their mutual pleasure. Blazing want, possessive, when his eyes open and catch Rain's, reflecting equal desire back at him.

Rain arches back into Storm as he starts to move—each stroke an agonizing slow drag of withdrawal, then filling Rain again with a sharp, decisive thrust that punches the air from his lungs. Rain is so absolutely soaked that his body, having been subject to countless fantasy variations of this exact moment, offers little resistance. Much like his determination to hold anything back, it's gone.

He is open and ready to be filled.

It's something that, like many of the things that paved their way here, Storm has been preparing for since not long after the first time he laid eyes on Rain.

His legs start to go loose and unreliable as Storm takes hold of his hips, fucking into him in earnest, so Rain leans forward, propping himself on his forearms for more support, unable to drag his eyes away from the mirror. He watches the way Storm's gaze travels down over his back, how he curves a hand over his ass in appreciation, then runs his fingers up from the base of his tail to move it aside, ghosting his thumb over Rain's asshole as Rain whimpers. Sees the absolute ecstasy that dances across his features when he pulls out until he's barely seated against Rain's entrance, just to marvel at the sight.

Rain can't resist pushing against him then, taking advantage of the momentary distraction. He needs him back inside. To feel him stretching and filling him, to feel—more.

Shifting his weight to one arm, Rain reaches between his legs, intoxicated enough on pleasure alone that he struggles to do more than rub trembling fingers in vague circles over himself. But the friction, however meager, helps. He lets out a series of breathless little moans, finding an angle that lets him match the pace that Storm sets even as he feels more and more slick drooling into his palm.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck—"

As Storm presses a hand against Rain's lower back, adjusting the way that his cock drags, hitting the same sensitive spot over and over again, Rain starts to pull at himself with slippery, frantic fingers.

"I wanna come again—I'm gonna—" Rain's flushed all over now, dappled markings on his skin even more lovely with the contrast.

Storm makes eye contact with him in the mirror, arches one eyebrow as his hands tighten on Rain's hips and he pulls Rain back onto him, pretending at nonchalance. As if to say, you know how to get what you want.

And Rain does. He's aware of the ripple of a feeling he doesn't have the wherewithal to try and name as it washes over his entire body and buries itself deep in his gut. Sees his own face contort in response to the strength of it as it rises to the surface, like knowing something that's been there all along, undeniable.

What he wants is to come, hard and gushing and brainless, on this ghoul's cock. Right now.

What he needs is permission.

He doesn't realize he's saying this out loud—babbling again—until his ears stop ringing and he hears himself, sees his eyes streaming in the mirror as he rubs frantically at himself, begging, "I-need-you-I-need-your-cock-I-need-to-come-please-daddy-please-let-me-come-oh-please-oh-fuck—"

"Yes. Yes, Rain—come for me, baby," Storm purrs, draping himself against Rain's back and licking along his spine, hot and slow. "I want it. Give it to me, it's mine."

Rain obeys.

Storm holds him up when his legs give out, thighs wet and shaking, as he gasps for air, mouth open and gills all flared wide. Repositions Rain onto his back, brushes his hair out of his face, wipes his tears, presses a damp kiss to his sweaty temple. Coos soft, gentle words into his ear like honey, as Rain, whimpering, rides the aftershocks that jolt through him, all while Storm's cock lays heavy at Rain's hip.

The only sign that Storm's endless reserves have been pushed to their limit is that he doesn't wait to be asked before he's shifting Rain's legs apart, pressing inside again.

Rain is so plush and wet and welcoming, limbs heavy and relaxed, resting against him instead of squeezing. Utterly fucked out. Clinging to Storm's shoulders in the most boneless way possible, Rain mutters into his ear, half-jumbled but more than comprehensible enough to ruin Storm's tenuous hold on what's left of his own self-control, "Y'gonna come for me now, daddy?"

He doesn't know that Storm had been planning on taking his time. Had wanted to see if he could tease at least one more out of Rain, whose body is an endless ocean of pleasures big and small, one that fits against his like they should have been here all along but is all the sweeter for the anticipation.

That isn't going to be an option now.

He huffs back, nearly a snarl. "Where you do you want me, baby?"

Rain manages to bite back the first answer that comes to mind—everywhere—as he presses another kiss against Storm's mouth. "I want—hhhow do you do that—fuck. On my tits. I want it on my tits."

As satisfying as it would be to stay where he is, to fill up Rain's cunt and add to the beautiful wet mess of him, Storm manages to pull himself away. He settles astride Rain's stomach, where Rain can see how his slick smears across Storm's hips and belly, soft curls now matted and damp and smelling deliciously like them. Reaching back, between Rain's legs, Storm slides his palm against that wet warmth before taking himself in hand, a deep groan reverberating in his chest as he starts to stroke himself in earnest using Rain's slick. His breathing is already erratic as Rain reaches up, running fingers through his chest hair, teasing a nipple.

Storm smacks his cock against Rain's sternum and Rain laughs, squeezing his arms together to let Storm fuck his tits. They're not big enough to provide much grip, but what Rain lacks in size, the visual more than makes up for. They both groan watching Storm slide against Rain's skin, Rain using his hands to squeeze tighter and cover the gap as he lets a long stream of drool slide down his chin, dripping onto his chest, adding to the growing mess of slick and pre-cum.

Storm shudders, muttering, "Filthy…" in a delighted undertone. His hips don't pause as he ruts against Rain's chest, and he asks, "You want more?"

When Rain nods, opening his mouth with tongue extended, making a small but unmistakably eager noise, Storm leans over. Holds Rain's chin in one hand as he half-kisses him and half-spits into his mouth, slow and sloppy. Storm groans as Rain does that with his tongue, closes his mouth. Swallows. Opens again.

"Oh, f—I'm gonna come, Rainy. Let me—" He sits upright again, barely able to register Rain's encouraging moan. Rain's hands clutch at Storm's legs as the air ghoul strokes himself, hips rocking.

"All over me. Right here." Rain holds his gaze, breathing heavily, savoring the weight of Storm pressing him into the nest. Grazing his hands along Storm's hips, tips of his claws raking his thighs. "Please."

Storm's shout as he starts to come, spine rigid and head thrown back when he physically can't keep staring at Rain, one hand fisted around his cock and the other with fingers curled into his own hair, is incomprehensible. The glass baubles and the panes in the windows rattle, and one window even blows open, a wet wind forcing itself inside as Storm shoots all over Rain's neck and chest, hot streaks of cum and cool spatters of raindrops hitting his skin in quick succession.

Feeling it running along his collarbones, paired with the unobstructed sight and sound of Storm finally—finally—coming apart for him, from him, with him, is almost enough to make Rain come again. His cunt aches with the memory of Storm taking him apart earlier and the way he looks now, perched atop him, breathing hard, looking and sounding every bit as wrecked as Rain feels.

He could have asked Storm to just come in his mouth, sure. But this way he got to watch.

And he still gets to taste: Rain doesn't wait for Storm to milk the last few dribbles from his spent cock before he's running his hand through the mess, desperate for this. He slides his fingers into his mouth, eyes shut as he groans, licking them clean.

Storm lingers for a moment, catching his breath, stroking Rain's face and hair and horns as he murmurs inarticulate praise, a soft purr rising in his chest.

He'd stay there forever, but for the small matter of the weather, intruding on their warmth and starting to jeopardize the drier half of the nest. Reluctantly, Storm climbs off Rain and pulls the window shut, double checking the latch. He flops down again nearby, offering Rain another hand towel, which Rain accepts after he's finished lapping up every taste of them, using it to pat himself the rest of the way dry.

It's a good thing the nest is big, because—he glances over at the other side, where they'd started the evening. Storm had been wise to get a couple of those blankets.

But as Storm folds one over on itself, there's another layer of dry bedding below it, which Storm now uses to tuck sheets and blankets over them both, fluffing up their pillows and pulling a couple of the water bottles close. After rummaging around for the remote, he turns off most of the lights, lowering the few he leaves on, cradling them in a soft, more intimate glow.

Rain curls into Storm's spent body, wriggling his way under one heavy arm.

"Hey." Rain cuddles in close, tucking his head into Storm's neck.

"Hello, beautiful ghoul. How are you?" Storm presses a kiss to Rain's hair, then tips Rain's chin up to kiss his mouth, too, slow and lingering. He tastes of Storm, and Storm tastes of Rain. It's perfect.

"So good," Rain murmurs, dreamily, when they pull apart. "You?"

"Also very good." He lets out a content sigh, squeezing a hand around Rain's hip.

"Yeah," Rain agrees, hand finding Storm's and interlacing their fingers.

And then they both start to speak at the same time.

"We should probably ta—"

"So do you want to—"

They laugh, heads knocking gently together.

"Later?" Rain asks.

"Later." Storm nods.

He pulls Rain against his chest, and they make quiet conversation about nothing in particular for a little while, having jointly decided to table more serious talk for another time. Rain starts to take his hair down, because there's no salvaging those braids now, and Storm helps, deft fingers untangling a stubborn knot at the back in order to free Rain's hairtie.

Eventually, soft words and small touches fade into a half-asleep cuddle, relaxing into each other. They lay there, quiet and content, enjoying the comfort of uncomplicated, satisfied animal warmth, and the wrung-out gratification of well-fucked bodies, until Rain drops off first, and Storm follows behind not long after.

---

coda

Sunrise announces itself as the sun crests over the lake, beams glinting off the surface and piercing through the tower windows, catching in the dangling crystals that hang suspended in the air. Scattered fragments of rainbows drift over the nest, where Rain curls against Storm's sprawling form. They skim the ghouls' bare skin where it emerges from under blankets and pillows, rake over tangles of messy hair, slept on and sex-wild.

The chimes on the balcony and the sound of birds chirping are faintly audible through the closed windows. No sign of ravens, but it's early and the sun is not yet fully up.