“Deal,” he said, and they snickered as they awkwardly shook hands in the minuscule space between them. “What, huh, what do I do?”
“Hold me,” they said, and he readily obeyed.
They shifted and wriggled until they were wrapped together so tightly Zef could not decipher where they ended and Bryce began. One of their legs hooked over his hip, their other slotting between his legs. His thigh pressed to their most private place, and his soft penis rested near their hip.
Banding their arms around him, they relaxed against his body when they physically could not get any closer. They shared breath as they stroked his back and sides, encouraging him to do the same. He massaged the joints of their wings where they were most sensitive, and they trilled.
“What now?” he asked, and they shrugged.
“This is it,” they said, and he furrowed his brow in confusion. “If you were a Mantodea, I would massage the joints of your wings as you are doing now. We would touch and embrace, and we would thrum together. It is… pleasure and safety and trust. It…” they swallowed thickly. “It is sharing in love.”
Eyes glossy in the lamplight, he nodded, then he nuzzled their cheek, kissing the corner of their mouth. “Okay.”
Having never actually done this before, Zef started slowly, sweeping their hands down Bryce’s body, rubbing his muscles and sifting their fingers through his hair. He mimicked them, his palms calloused and warm. He massaged the joints of their wings, making them shudder in his hold.
They kissed him, fighting to get even closer, to blend into him until they were one person. And he held them. Gods, the way he held them, like they were his most precious possession.
The thrum started low and quiet, but it grew as Bryce rubbed their wings harder. When he hummed back, they broke the kiss with a gasp of surprise and elation. It was not a Mantodean sound, but it was very close. They thrummed back at him eagerly, and he hummed in return, mimicking their tone.
With a broken sound, they kissed him harder, thrumming into his mouth as he hummed back, and it was perfect. It was perfect because he was their Bryce, and they were his. It was perfect and lovely and so good it made them ache. Because some things were too vast and wonderful that they had to hurt to feel real.
“I love you,” they confessed into Bryce’s mouth, and he made a wounded noise.
Then he was kissing them in a frenzied, wild way that almost scared them. He kissed their mouth, their cheek, their jaw, and the tender skin under their ear. And with each one, he said, “I love you. I love you. I love you.”
They thrummed together for a long time, and Zef was overwhelmed by the depth of intimacy. They did not know the moment they first started to cry, but by the time they realized it, there was no stopping the tears. Clinging to Bryce like their life depended on it, they cried softly into his neck. It was just too big, the love thrumming between them, and the only way to release it was to weep.
When they kissed him, they tasted salt and bitter grief. Because how could they survive without this when he went away?
“I do not want you to go,” they said selfishly, so selfishly.
“I know,” he said.
They kissed him, almost punishingly. “I want you to stay.”
“I know,” he repeated.
“I want to come with you, and I hate that I am not ready yet.”
Their breath hitched, and he kissed them saying, “I know. I know. I know.”
“It ain’t forever, baby,” he said when the worst of their crying had subsided. “It’s just for now.”
“You promise?” they demanded.
“I promise.”
Even though the thrum was over, they remained tangled together, needing the physical comfort. “I will miss you so much.”
“I’m gonna miss you too. Every day.” He kissed their brow between their eyes. “I love you, Zef. You hear me? I love you.”
“I love you too.” They cradled his face in their hands as they smiled wetly. “My Bryce. My dear, dear Bryce.”
“Your Bryce,” he echoed. “Always.”
“We will buy a house in Montana, close to your parents so Nan can easily visit me,” they said.
“Yeah,” he agreed.
