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Prologue - 1 (Second Fingertips Series)

Pairing: ToraxSaga Rating: NC-17 Warnings: Smut :) and sadness :(

Enjoy my sweetlings.

1 Year Later

Saga couldn’t focus, but for once, it wasn’t bothering him. He kept closing his eyes and leaning against the headboard of the bed, sighing deeply as the chilled breeze nuzzled his skin. Sketches, he had sketches to do… the thought was so faint, though. He just wanted to relax. Dragon’s insistent purring wasn’t helping, either. Saga had been resisting the urge to pull the giant cat into his chest for half an hour now; if he did, it would all be over. He would close his eyes, soothed by the steady thrum, and would fall asleep, no doubt about it.

He reached out to pet the scraggly cat. Dragon was white with grey and black spots, double-pawed on his front legs, and had fangs sticking from his lips, which were surprisingly endearing. The cat had also gone tom before he’d been fixed, which accounted for his size and the scruff on his neck. He was thick but bony, too.

“Okay,” Saga said when Dragon winked at him for the third time. He slapped his sketchbook shut and tossed it aside. Dragon knew what was going on without any gestures. Saga rolled his eyes as the purring became louder, and a warm forehead wedged between his chin and shoulder. He sighed with content, and had just let his lids fall shut when the front door opened and closed. “Daddy’s home,” he mumbled into the vibrating fur.

Keys dropped on a counter, a bag thumped gently on the carpet, and shoes were toed off. Saga gave Dragon a tight squeeze as the footsteps came into the room. A raspy voice offered a soft greeting. “Hey.”

“Hiiiiiiiii.”

Tora raised his brow at the sight, and it brought an instant smirk to his face. Saga was wrapped up in cat, sweater, and blanket, but the window was open wide, allowing a steady wind to pass through.

“Are you cold?”

“Yeah,” Saga moaned.

Tora went over and placed his hands on the sill.

“No! Don’t close it.”

“What? Why?”

“It feels good. It’s finally spring.” He mustered enough energy to open his eyes and sit up, though the weight of the dragon made it a bit more difficult. He still wasn’t at his best, even today, and hoped Tora didn’t see the slight shake in his elbow.

Tora shut the window halfway, cutting the breeze to a sliver. Saga narrowed his eyes, opting not to comment this time; Tora knew it would be stored in there for sometime later. He went to sit on the bed, and scratched Dragon on the forehead.

“Sure, go straight to him without even giving me a hello kiss.”

“I’m getting to it.”

Tora was glad to see the attitude returning. He been somewhat surprised at how much he missed the snappy corrections and clear demands for affection. During those misty months it had been difficult to know when it was okay to touch, and when Saga needed to be left alone. More and more lately, things were becoming open again, easy, like before. When he gave Saga his hello kiss, he let it linger as always, more than grateful that he still had these in his life.

“Was your day good?” Tora asked, wishing he was the one being cradled right then, and not Dragon.

“Yeah, I just sort of did this,” he shrugged, “Hey, why are you looking at Dragon like that, are you getting jealous?” Saga was the one to smirk this time, and he gave the cat an extra luxurious pet, from nose to tail, and scratched underneath his chin. “Do you want me to rub your ears, Tiger boy?”

“Jealous isn’t the word for it,” Tora lied.

“Okay,” Saga chirped, “How was your day?”

“Long,” he said.

“Yeah, you want me to rub your ears.” Saga arghed as he gently pushed the cat off, who growled but made no other protest. Disgruntled, Dragon shook his fur vigorously, sending white hair floating through the air, and stalked away, vengeance fulfilled. Saga opened his arms again, and Tora lay on the bed next to him, resting his head where the cat had been. They wove together in their way, knowing each other so well there was hardly any adjusting to get comfortable. Saga pulled his fingers through thick, soft black hair, and thanked himself again for not giving up on this strange love they had. He couldn’t even imagine the loneliness he might be feeling if he had left all those months ago.

The struggle in between then and now had been worth it. He was very nearly almost healed, at least of the heart and mind. His body had been a different story.

The nightmares remained frequent, though. He didn’t wake gasping and screaming anymore, but the feeling of claws in his skin, the sound of jaws snapping close to his ears, the pounding rain and shrill roars of battling beasts, it was all still there, painfully fresh. It isn’t going to happen again, he reminded himself. They were far away from there, now, and the ones who had scarred him were dead. The only problem was, in the dreams he sometimes relived what Tora had done, too; the hunger with which he’d torn the other animal’s throat out, and the wildness in his eyes which transferred to the next shifter, and the next, and finally to Saga. Usually, the dreams scared him enough that he woke before he had to watch Tora charge at him, bloody fangs bared. Sometimes he didn’t, though, and he would also see him sinking his claws into the ground at the last second, halting his bulk, his eyes becoming his again.

They had thought the worst was over when Tora returned home from his absence; and they’d been wrong. The next few days had been the worst, when they’d tried to take him back, and used the single most important person to him to do it. Since then, Saga hadn’t been able to watch Tora change, not once.

He missed it, laying in grass with heavy hot fur all around him, watching the sleek black form course with muscle as he ran, the beautiful duality. It was simple why he could not do it: he was too afraid.

“I think… I think I’m going to go to the mountain this weekend,” Tora said.

“The whole weekend?”

“No, just Saturday.”

Saga nodded softly, and squeezed to let him know it was okay. Tora had long since stopped inviting him to come, though Saga could tell in his voice every time that Tora wished he would. Once in a while he felt the urge to go along, to get some fresh air and exercise, and confront the fear. It was always good to move around. In winter it hadn’t really been an option anyway, not in his condition. Every time, though, it was fangs, always the fangs and the blood, and he would decide against it.

Tora pushed himself up on his elbows, and rested their foreheads together. Naturally, a kiss followed, timid in the beginning, until Saga ran a soft tongue along the other’s lower lip. When Tora responded with the gentlest of nips, Saga couldn’t stop a soft sigh from leaving his throat. After only a few moments, his cheeks were flushed.

“Well, that was easy,” Tora said, eyes brimming with adoration while he admired red-tinged skin.

“Hey…” there was no fight in Saga’s voice as he let his head fall back on the pillows. Tora followed when slim arms wrapped around his neck. Saga turned so their bodies were flush, chests pressing together, the right position to begin building heat between their hips. It had been so long, too long, since they had done anything. A lot of the time, it felt like the beginning again, the feelings of those first not-dates and months of careful openness returned.

Tora eased himself between warm thighs, and only let his weight settle when long fingers slipped under the hem of his shirt. The kisses deepened, and Saga’s breath quickened into short puffs. Tora could do nothing about the twitch below as their hips pushed together, and Saga moaned, high and sugar sweet. Gods, it was good to hear that again.

Saga pulled away, dragging his teeth on flushed lips. “Hot. Too hot.”

“At least you aren’t cold anymore,” Tora breathed. He pressed his hands into the bed, straightening his arms so blanket and sweater could be shed. He swallowed when he saw that Saga was wearing a loose tanktop, hanging slightly off his shoulder, revealing his collar bone and faint shadows of sternum. “Better?”

“Better.”

Saga coaxed him in again, and their lips met for a brief few seconds before Tora made his way down a honey-white neck. His kisses could not have been gentler, and they left tiny fires in a trail down his skin. In his mind, Tora thanked Saga a thousand times for the forgiveness he’d shown, for the trust he’d chosen to give, despite that Tora didn’t feel he deserved it. He’d almost done the unspeakable, the unforgivable; almost. In the end, once again, he had not laid a scratch on Saga. Again, he’d saved his life…

This time, though, it had been his fault Saga had needed saving in the first place.

Tora moved up again, hovering for a moment so he could take in the glittering dark eyes and the short lashes which framed them, small yet full bow lips, slightly parted and glistening. This was the face of the person that owned his heart and soul. Alongside the love was the guilt, not as potent as it had been in the beginning, present nonetheless.

“I love you,” he said, tasting those perfect lips again, “so much.”

“I know, tiger boy. I love you too.”

Their bodies melded together once more until the heat between them grew too much to be ignored. Saga released a shuddering breath as Tora’s arousal rubbed against his own, through thin layers of fabric, and he pulled him closer, mouths opening fully to each other now. A hand slipped under his tank top and Tora pushed the cloth away from the expanse of skin. His tongue was slick and warm on the small pink nub of Saga’s chest. He delighted in the quivers it elicited, and he could feel the other stiffening quickly beneath him. Although his body was more than eager, Tora reigned himself in, taking care to be slow and gentle.

Saga was losing himself to the warmth on top of him, and the growing weight between his legs. He was trying to fight off the intense mix of emotions coming along with everything, torn between the caution he’d been exercising and the desire to let Tora take him completely. They had reached this level of closeness once again, but secretly in his mind, there was always the caution, a slight fear at what the lips and teeth grazing over his skin could become, whenever they chose to. He didn’t hurt me, he reminded himself, he will not hurt me. As the thought slipped through his mind he tugged at Tora’s shirt, and together they pulled it off in a soft rustle of fabric. When their eyes met again, Saga felt a shock run through his chest, like those first times they had met and addressed each other; it was close to that thrill, but deeper, more familiar.

While Saga tried to hide that minimal course of fear, Tora’s eyes revealed everything all at once—his passion and dedication, his regret, guilt, and the hatred he still felt for himself, and his resolve to never let it happen again.

When he saw it, sudden as a stumble, Saga let his walls drop. Whether or not Tora perceived this, he didn’t know. They came together again and it was more hasty, more needful this time. There was a great sigh of relief as Saga lifted his hips and pulled his leggings down to his thighs, and his fingers went to the tie of Tora’s pants, pulling the strings undone.

Tora settled himself down again. He wrapped his fingers around Saga’s velvety shaft, pressing his thumb into the slit that was moist with clear beads of precum, and stroked at an easy pace. Within seconds, his ministrations resulted in quickened breath and fluttering lids. Just the sight was enough to have Tora throbbing with months of pent up desire begging for release. Only when his partner was trembling on the verge did he let go, and trailed the wet tips of his fingers over the inner sides of thighs.

Saga gasped, missing the touch, but it returned in a different way as Tora ground his hips down. He rolled up to meet the movement, and felt the weight of Tora’s need between their bodies pressed together, reaching for friction. As his head buzzed, Tora lifted again, and this time took them both up in his fingers.

Saga moaned softly. This was perfect, and easier by the moment, and he felt his release nearing already, forming warm pools deep inside that had so much more to do than with just the hand wrapped around him. He felt himself casting off the burden, plucking away the last strings of mistrust.

“Tora…” the thick, sweet tone of his voice made it known that it was not a call to stop or slow. Saga turned his head to the side as lips latched upon his neck once more, and he could think only of the wet path they created to the sensitive spot below his ear, how those sensations coursed at light speed down his chest and straight to his pleasure.

Every now and then, quiet moans accompanied Tora’s unsteady breathing. Against his fingers and the smaller member in his palm, he felt himself swelling, ripening. The wetness leaking from both of their tips smoothed the friction. Tora thrust his hips forward, increasing the contact of skin in the same moment that he pulled his hand from head to base in a luscious, tight grip.

Saga’s nails dug into his shoulders and his body pulsed with the thrill of it, giving way to warm spurts between them which Tora readily used. The sensation of hot slickness was almost too much; he was only seconds behind, and a rasped, stuttered moan imitated the unsteady motions of his hips as he came. The pearly strands mixed together, as did their breath when they tried to kiss and come down at the same time, sloppy yet caring and satisfying.

Tora rested his forehead on Saga’s chest, spent, and after a few moments the steady stream of inhales and exhales began to slow.

“Hey, are you all right?” Tora looked up when he heard a sniffle, and saw that Saga’s eyes were glistening.

A couple tears broke free and trailed down his nose, but he nodded wiping them away with a hint of smile on his lips. “Yes, I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with me…”

“It’s okay,” Tora said in a near whisper, and quickly took the tissues on the bedside stand to clean the mess on their stomachs. After, they were able to cling to each other, and he didn’t question where the tears had come from. Saga pressed into his neck, holding tight as if he were a dream that was about to dissipate. They lay in quiet for a while, savoring the feel of their chests rising and falling against one another’s, the divine tangle of their legs.

“If I had…if I had left, you…I don’t know how I would have…” Saga tried to speak past the tightness in his throat and the haze in his mind.

“Shh, it’s okay.”

“You were going to let me. You were going to let me go.”

Tora backed away from the embrace just enough so they could see each other’s faces. He traced his fingers along the rounded jaw, and was relieved to see that the tears had not returned. “I didn’t want you to; I had to let it be your decision, Saga. I will always be here, but it’s your choice.”

He nodded in understanding, and kissed Tora’s hand that had drawn close to his lips. “I want to come to the mountain with you. I don’t know how well I’ll do, if I’ll be able to get close, yet, but I feel like I’m only loving half of you right now. I want to love the rest of you again, too.”

This time, it was Tora’s eyes that shone, and he nodded, and pulled Saga’s small body into his chest again. “I promise you’ll be safe.”

“I know I will.”

#Tora #Saga #toraxsaga #sagaxtora #alice nine #Prologue #Fingertips #season 2 #fanfic #writing #paranormal romance

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