#behold the shortest thing ive ever posted

[forlorn-crows]

Mushy May Day 2: Crush

short and sweet just like dewdrop

Words: 265

Paring(s): Aether/Dew, Ifrit/Dew

He really shouldn't be staring so much. But a certain bumbling fire ghoul is making it rather difficult. With his boyish charm, dark shaggy hair, illuminated hazel eyes, animated gestures, those wide broad shoulders descending into full, plump pecs . . .

Dewdrop tears his eyes away, nearly fumbling the pic in his too-lax hand. He’s become rather fond of Ifrit over the past few weeks, if that’s the right word for it. He was intimidating at first, all fire and brimstone straight from the Pit. But once the residual sulfur had cleared and left nothing  but a warm cedar and bergamot in its wake, Dewdrop was a goner.  

Aether looks over curiously, turning at the spike of feedback from the bass strings. “You okay there, Dew?” Quintessence ghouls: always too curious, too concerned. Aether isn’t overbearing, though, and Dew thanks Lucifer—or whoever nudged him towards the Veil—for sending this one. 

“Uh,” Dew starts, sneaking one last glance at Ifrit, still talking animatedly to Mountain and Zephyr. “Yeah, I’m okay. Thanks.”

Aether glances in the direction of his gaze, lips quirking up at the corners. “Ah,” he says knowingly. 

Dew bristles. “What?”

“Nothing, I understand now.” The grin on his face is practically shit-eating. It’s not mean, just teasing. It had taken almost no time at all for Dew to learn his mannerisms, his charms, his quirks, his vices. Call it falling hard and fast, but they already had quite the ‘thing’ established between them. 

Dew and Ifrit, though? Well, they skirt around each other, smiling at accidental touches and staring when the other thinks they aren’t looking.