Page 27 of The Sixth Spring

“I was wondering about this. Sensitive?” Itori guessed.

“Very. They’re–they’re connected.” He made a vague gesture down, to where the feeling was zipping through him and starting to get him hard.

“Really?” Itori’s other hand brushed his other nipple, and Will cursed.

“Yeah.”

“Good or bad?” Itori asked.

“G-good,” Will stammered.

Itori touched him again, pinching one and then the other.

Will shut his eyes, trying to hold himself together. He was melting. It was overwhelming to be touched, to be the focus of attention.

Itori stayed a little while longer on his nipples before his hands moved south. Will let out a breath when they did.

Then the claws skimmed at the hem of Will’s waterlogged jeans.

Will’s fingers fumbled for the button clumsily, trying to get the jeans off, half standing to shuck them down. He was moving on instinct, keeping the cacophony of what ifs out of his head.

Around him, the night was quiet. The only thing he could hear was the pounding of his heart and his short, pitchy breaths.

When he looked again, Itori’s eyes were on him.

“You glow like the moon,” Itori said.

Will didn’t know what to say to that. He got the last of his clothing off and left it all in a pile.

Before he could sit back down, Itori stopped him. He was looking at the bandages on Will’s hands. One of those clawed hands touched his knees.

Will looked down. The purple bruise there was noticeable even in moonlight.

“Is this injury?” Itori asked.

“Just some road rash and bruising. From before,” Will gestured at the water.

Itori made a low hissing sound, and then moved to take Will’s hand, thumbing over the damp bandage. “Sensitive and fragile. We must be careful with you, come here.”

Gently, Itori pulled Will forward and down.

Will realized what he wanted, but couldn’t manage the words to protest. One moment he was standing, the next he was seated in Itori’s lap, his thighs supporting Will and keeping his skin away from the asphalt.

“I’m not fragile,” Will said, which wasn’t the thing he should be focused on.

“I do not mean you are weak,” Itori said carefully. His hands smoothed up Will’s arms to his shoulder, then up to cup his face. “But I see why humans wear all this covering. You have no scales, nothing to protect you. I will be careful with you, since you cannot heal like me.”

“Oh,” Will said. A nervous, restless energy was vibrating just under his skin. He wanted Itori to touch him, and he dreaded it too.

Dreaded he would like it too much, because surely there was no longevity in this.

“You tremble, like a tree in the breeze,” Itori said. “Is good?”

“Yeah,” Will’s throat was dry.

Claw tips slid down Will’s neck to his shoulders. He shivered again and had the urge to rub a hand over his face, to hide his eyes. He forced himself instead to meet Itori’s.

“So, uh, how does this work?” Will asked.