Yes, love. That was what this felt like. Love and promises and laughter and forever. His kisses were secret vows etching themselves into their heart. His touches were worship and adoration, imprinting himself on their soul. Because he was theirs, and they were his.
There was no going back now, not for Zef. They had found their mirror-soul, the one who reflected their best self back at them. Mantodeas did not believe in “other halves” because it implied that they were not completewithin themselves. They did, however, believe in matches, in partners who fit and complimented them in ways that felt ordained, if not deity-blessed.
Bryce was not their other half, because without him, they were still whole. But he was their soul match, their mirror-self, and yes, they loved him. This love was still new, still in its infancy, but it would grow, and it would bloom. When it did, it would be beautiful and fragrant and full of life.
They were smitten. Twitterpated. Enraptured. They were utterly lost to him, and they prayed to whatever ancestors were listening that they would never be found. They wished to be lost in him forever.
August turned to September, and Bryce lay between their legs on the couch, face pillowed on their stomach as they ran fingers through his hair and read a book. He mapped their skin under their clothes, memorizing them like one of his textbooks. He kissed them sweetly, fingers tangled in their hair as the shower water rained down on them both.
September turned to October, and Zef counted the freckles smattered on his back, charting the constellations as he laughed into his pillow. They invited him to kneel beside them as they lit incense and prayed to their ancestors in silent meditation. They sat in the lounge chair in the corner of his room, chin on their knee as he stroked himself, reaching orgasm with their name on his lips.
They had watched him masturbate several times by this point, and while it fascinated them on an intellectual level, they still did not understand the draw on a physical one. There was emotional closeness, they supposed, especially when they joined him on the bed, sitting beside or behind him while he pleasured himself. But they felt just as much intimacy when Bryce hugged them from behind as they cooked dinner or kissed them sweetly on the couch
They chalked it up to a difference in wiring, but it was not a bad thing. Neither of them were wired wrong, after all, and even though they were different colored cables connecting to different outlets, their wires complimented each other. And that was just fine with Zef.
Lying on their side, Zef propped themself up on their lower right arm as their upper hand played with Bryce’s hair. Their left hands skated over Bryce’s chest and belly, sketching nonsensical designs over his skin. The human watched them with heavy-lidded eyes, an arm thrown over his head. Sheets askew and tangled in his legs, he was bared to the room and to Zef, unashamed of his nudity.
He had climaxed twenty minutes ago, one hand laced with Zef’s as he pressed his face into their neck. After cleaning up the mess, he had dozed off as they petted him, marveling at how nice it felt to simply touch this way. He was mostly awake now, blinking up at them as they wrote the Hellian alphabet around his belly button.
His soft penis lay in his thick, dark pubic hair, his scrotum appearing larger in contrast, now that his erection had deflated. They lowered their hand and grazed their fingers through the wiry hairs. Zef had very little body hair, which made them all the more fascinated with Bryce’s.
Now that he was no longer aroused, they felt comfortable touching him, and they gently cupped his penis, snickering at how wiggly it was.
“You know, laughing at my dick does not, in fact, do wonders for my self-esteem,” he teased, voice graveling from sleep and orgasm.
“But it is funny like this,” they said, giving it an extra jiggle for emphasis.
Bryce covered his eyes with his arm and laughed, teeth stark against his dark beard. They could count several gray hairs already peppered throughout, but his father had also gone gray early, or so he claimed. Bryce assumed he would too.
So far, Zef had only found two gray hairs on the right side near his temple, but they had kept it to themself, a secret just for them.
“You’re gonna make it hard again,” he warned as Zef continued to play with his floppy penis. Like the appendage was listening, it started to stiffen in their hand, and they released it with a pout.
“Your erection is ruining my entertainment.”
“Again, not usually what a guy likes to hear.”
Leaning down, they kissed his shoulder. “Apologies, I did not mean to hurt your ego. For what it is worth, I find your penis and your pleasure beautiful, even if I do not feel an attraction to it.”
He lowered his arm and lifted his head enough to peck their forehead. “I findyoubeautiful.”
Overcome with pleasure at that, they kissed him, mimicking the way he moved his lips as he hummed into their mouth. They were better at kissing now, but they were still learning. But Bryce was patient with them, as he always had been.
His big, warm hands framed their face, and they sighed into his mouth. His beard scraped their chin as he leisurely kissed them, and their wings buzzed happily as tingles exploded over their body.
When they parted, Bryce kept them close, placing little kisses on their cheeks and chin and eyelids. They soaked in his affections, allowing him to angle their head so he could kiss their neck. Knowing he would feel it, they thrummed, and he groaned against their throat.
He fell back on the bed, and Zef followed him, half-rolling until they perched above him. Their hair fell in curtains around them, and Bryce held their face in his hands so tenderly, like they were fragile and precious. He smiled, and they dipped their head to kiss him.
Vaguely, they felt his half-hard erection against their thigh, but they ignored it. If it became a nuisance, Bryce would communicate that, so they kissed him deeply, smiling when the barest hint of his tongue teased the seam of their mouth.
They had tried French kissing, but it was not their favorite. Tongues were weird and awkward, and they never knew what to do with theirs. Or with Bryce’s, if they were being honest. So they had asked him to keep the use of tongue to a minimum.
But these little teases? They were allowed.
One of his hands lowered to cup their backside over their underwear, and they laughed as they usually did whenever he touched their butt. It was another one of those strange intimacies that Zef did not understand. While they found every part of his body beautiful, Bryce’s butt was simply a butt. Other than a playful pat or a rub through the thick hair there, they did not see the appeal.
Bryce, however, liked touching their backside when they kissed. Since it did not bother them, they allowed it.
