Fawn (
fawnthefae) wrote2021-04-21 07:50 pm
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John
He had found his mortal kin. He hadn't even known he might have mortal kin, but when Fawn had wandered into the building with the enticing music and cheap chicken wings, he had been struck by the sight of mortals who felt like his own. They wore little clothing and spun elegantly on tall polls, coaxing coin from the fools who got too near.
Kin. They were kin.
He sat and ate wings as he watched them work, until one finally came over to say hello. She was very tall and mostly muscle, but soft in places men often liked. Her eyes were hazel and her smile sweet, and she smiled as she sat across from him.
"You are really here for the food, huh?" she smiled. "You know the wings across the street are better, sweetheart."
"I came for food, I stayed to watch the sirens work. You are all talented, many will go home broke tonight," Fawn assured her, prompting her to laugh again.
"I like you," she grinned.
"Thank you," Fawn smiled. "I like how you all dance. I would like to learn."
The woman laughed again, then nodded, tossing her ginger hair back behind her shoulders. "Well, we don't have boys in dancing here, I'm afraid, but I do know someone who'd looking for guys. He'd love you. Catch is, he'd want you to be good on a pole before he took you on. You'd have to find lessons... Or do what I did. Get a pole and watch a lot of videos."
They talked for a while, and when Fawn left, he felt renewed. Inspired. He had found his new art.
Walking into the flat, he dropped his coat and announced, "I require a pole for dancing, and access to a tube for mortal videos. A you-tube, they call it."
Kin. They were kin.
He sat and ate wings as he watched them work, until one finally came over to say hello. She was very tall and mostly muscle, but soft in places men often liked. Her eyes were hazel and her smile sweet, and she smiled as she sat across from him.
"You are really here for the food, huh?" she smiled. "You know the wings across the street are better, sweetheart."
"I came for food, I stayed to watch the sirens work. You are all talented, many will go home broke tonight," Fawn assured her, prompting her to laugh again.
"I like you," she grinned.
"Thank you," Fawn smiled. "I like how you all dance. I would like to learn."
The woman laughed again, then nodded, tossing her ginger hair back behind her shoulders. "Well, we don't have boys in dancing here, I'm afraid, but I do know someone who'd looking for guys. He'd love you. Catch is, he'd want you to be good on a pole before he took you on. You'd have to find lessons... Or do what I did. Get a pole and watch a lot of videos."
They talked for a while, and when Fawn left, he felt renewed. Inspired. He had found his new art.
Walking into the flat, he dropped his coat and announced, "I require a pole for dancing, and access to a tube for mortal videos. A you-tube, they call it."
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Fawn purred softly, then leaned in and stole a soft kiss.
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John was perfectly content to snog him, soft and slow. His hands were firm as he caressed him. He didn't push for anything more than this, but his dick definitely had different ideas. If he was the worrying sort, he might have been concerned why just being close to Fawn could get him going like some randy teen.
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Fawn was less excitable tonight, content to just touch and hold. Sometimes the fae craved that more than sex. Affection was still new enough to him to be precious and exciting.
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John finally had to move. He carefully shifted, got some blood back into his arm, then snuggled in more comfortably.
"Falling asleep?" he asked, sure if Fawn had been, John had roused him completely with jostling him around.
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"No. I am awake," Fawn assured him, fingers exploring the other man's chest once they were settled again.
"Your marks are pretty," he said, admiring the man's tattoos. "How does one get marked?"
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"You pay a man and sit really still while he injects ink under the skin with needles," he explained. "It's about as pleasant as it sounds."
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"I could get marks. A flower, maybe. Snapdragons," Fawn mused, tracing another one of John's tattoos.
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"You could," John nodded. "If you want one, I can take you to a good shop."
He drew idle lines against Fawn's back, thinking of who he knew that did a nice job with botanicals.
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"Start small. It's a huge commitment to time and pain," John said. "But if you do like it, you can have all you want."
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"I'll call in the morning then," he promised. "You begin by deciding on what you want. The artist might have to draw it, and just the way you like. It'll be a part of you forever. You want it to be right."
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"Do any of yours have stories? Do they express something?" Fawn asked curiously, always eager for John to tell him more about himself.
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"Not really. They're all for help channeling power. They make some magic easier to control," he explained.
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"None hold meaning?" Fawn asked. "That hurts my heart, I think."
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"They're just tools," John said. "That bothers you?"
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"I just think at least one should be something you love, not need," Fawn replied. "Something pretty."
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John thought about that for a long, silent moment.
"What should I get?" he asked softly.
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"I don't think I can tell you that," Fawn replied. "It's your body."
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John knew, though. He already had an image in his head.
"I'll think of something," he said, smile unseen in the dark but warming his voice.
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John closed his eyes, dozing a little. He hovered on the edge of dreaming, demons and fire making him fitful.