For Saskia
A day late but you get a fic :) this one is inspired by Charis (I see that smirk!) and her special plant HERE.
Knowing the Words
words - 1374
mostly fluffy
Peyton liked flowers, he saw no shame in it, since he owned a florist shop it was in fact a very good trait. For his birthday though everyone bought the other standard; chocolate. Peyton liked chocolate, but he now owned at least a years supply of the stuff! Thankfully he was on good terms with a certain fae and while a lot of fae could consume sugar in high quantities, Chaika could put them to shame.
No one ever bought Peyton flowers though they knew he loved them. He'd never received even one bunch of miserable petrol station stock. Working with flowers all day did nothing to quench his enjoyment of them. Every time he designed that special bouquet for someone he pictured the face of their loved ones and tied the bow with careful precision, curling ribbon into satin smiles, loving his contribution to moments. First dates, weddings, anniversaries, babies births; Peyton got to celebrate with people, celebrate life. He saw the thought going into flower choices and helped people pick out ribbons and cards.
Even the little cards were special. Laid pristine on the table, crisp edges and minor decoration, full of so any possibilities. People would write their own messages, bold strokes or gentle sweeping script. Neat and garbled. Love, apologies, mischief. The sweet and the cryptic. For some Peyton penned the words, he used his neatest cursive and always added a special finishing flourish.
Bright blooms, arty foliage or sedate traditional selections, Peyton loved them equally. He tended flowers, arranged them, gifted them, but never received them. He'd be thrilled to get even a tattered roadside Daisy!
He dropped in to see Chaika on his way home, disappointed to find the tall solemn fae distracted in some book. He continued turning the pages even as he opened the door and allowed Peyton entry. The aged leather cover looked soft and well handled, some guide to human-fae behaviours.
Peyton was used to mixed hospitality, he poured himself and Chaika a fragrant brew from the steaming teapot, picking out fine bone china cups and saucers in odd yet complimentary patterns to serve them. Chaika sipped without looking up.
Peyton blew softly on his drink, enjoying how the scents of berries and herbs wafted up into his face. Understated woo-woo. Chaika had been baking again and he nibbled a fresh Cinnamon cookie, eyeing it suspiciously as something about it's shape nagged his consciousness. He dismissed his fancies as unlikely, Chaika was too deliberate a type to make rude shapes out of dough.
It was companionable enough but it was his birthday and he'd hoped Chaika would remember, not for the presents but for a little notice, some small sign that Chaika liked their visits, that Peyton was perhaps special to him.
Peyton admired his friend as the fae flipped pages, absently sucking a knuckle and occasionally humming thoughtfully. Sleek purple hair that never seemed to tangle, skin dark as midnight, a colour impossible to pin down, his eyes, when you grabbed his attention, were a shock. Pale silver grey. Striking in such a dark face and magical, dramatic without the sparkle or swirl of some fae.
They met regular and Chaika always had a plate of fresh cookies on the table which suggested even at his most distracted, that he expected and welcomed Peyton. He knew of Peyton’s partiality to them. Peyton would fall over himself to please whenever Chaika turned up for unscheduled teas. Fussing around as his friend watched him avidly with that enigmatic little smile of his.
They had become good friends. When any lesser fae attempted to hassle Peyton, Chaika would appear and hover around looking haughty and disapproving until the weight of his status made the others flee. If they persisted he'd talk to them politely, in the old tongue, broking no argueents. Peyton had no idea what the words meant but even the liveliest, most pushy of the fae, would blanch and leave with a bowing apology, no longer eager to meet Peyton's eyes.
After these encounters were the other encounters. Frequent encounters yet never habit. Peyton would find himself gripped firmly and led determinedly to a bedroom or convenient flowery alcove. Those slim fae fingers would stroke and tweak until Peyton was lost in sensation. Silvery eyes would study him until he'd swear he saw stars. He'd get his turn of touching too, all that dark velvet skin and he got to taste wherever he dared.
They were friends. Both a joy and a frustration.
Feeling tired Peyton rinsed his cup, leaving it to drain. He refilled Chaika's cup and pushed the saucer so it was in reach but not a danger to his precious book. He put the best of his birthday chocolates on the table and watched as fingers blindly selected a truffle. He didn't bother to say goodbye.
He made food, keeping it simple and tasted a few treats that didn't taste as sweet as usual. He was debating an unsociable evening curled in his comfy chair with a film over meeting various friends and being lively, when Chaika turned up holding a small plain box and acting as though he should have been expected.
Peyton opened the door wide enough for the tall, slim fae to slip in, then, when Chaika stood waiting expectantly, Peyton accepted and examined his gift. It was a plant, that much he knew. Peyton blinked at it and sent Chaika a measured look that bounced off the fae's bland innocent face.
It was some relation to a cacti. The globed body was a dark succulent green and very suggestive with a flower protruding from it's core. The curvature had the slightest dimples and Peyton stroked them, his fingers drawn to touch. A silver gaze followed the gesture. The pale flower was a simple one, long narrow petals that held a high shine, happy in it's nest. Pretty, but homely too.
'Thank you!'
'Happy birth day Peyton'
'This is the first flower I've ever been given'
Confusion crossed Chaika's features and he glanced out the window to Peyton's garden which was lush with an immense variety of blooms. Peyton was good with plants but had been incredibly lucky of late. His flowers always grew well and lasted longer than any of his neighbours. Bad weather never seemed to affect even the most delicate petals. A lot of love went into the garden and was reflected back in an abundance of colour.
'You?'
Chaika ducked his head and angled his face into the shadows, if his skin was any lighter Peyton thought he'd see it flush. Peyton followed him and looked up to meet the streak of silver that ever captivated him.
'Are you staying the night?'
The small smile settled into place and a hand rose to smooth his hair back, caressing his head. Agile fingers followed the curve of his ear to tweak the lobe then follow down to the arch of his neck. Silver should look cold but deep affection made it warm comforting.
‘If you’ll have me Peyton’
Peyton thought about his garden, fae courtship and would-be admirers fleeing from secretive words. He glanced at his cheeky new plant with it's suggestive flower and remembered the subject of Chaika's most fascinating book.
'Bedroom' he suggested 'I'll just lock up' Drawing the curtains with a smile at his flourishing garden didn't take long, but it was long enough for Chaika to prepare Peyton's main birthday present. A present that wiped any lingering doubts from Peyton's mind.
Chaika lay sprawled over Peyton's bed. Face down he exhibited the long sweep of his back, broad shoulders tapering down to a lickable dip. The firm rise of dimpled butt cheeks and between those lush globes a Daisy.
Peyton giggled then moved forward. Removing the flower he placed it reverently on his bedside table, taking up the oil left there and giving the inviting butt a squeeze.
‘Chaika?’
‘Yes, my Peyton’
Chaika pushed up onto exploring fingers, offering everything Peyton desired. When Peyton sunk deep into that welcoming body the fae uttered wonderful cries, words that answered a lot of questions and promised many great things, said in a tongue both old and new. A language Peyton recognised as love.
^o^
Knowing the Words
words - 1374
mostly fluffy
Peyton liked flowers, he saw no shame in it, since he owned a florist shop it was in fact a very good trait. For his birthday though everyone bought the other standard; chocolate. Peyton liked chocolate, but he now owned at least a years supply of the stuff! Thankfully he was on good terms with a certain fae and while a lot of fae could consume sugar in high quantities, Chaika could put them to shame.
No one ever bought Peyton flowers though they knew he loved them. He'd never received even one bunch of miserable petrol station stock. Working with flowers all day did nothing to quench his enjoyment of them. Every time he designed that special bouquet for someone he pictured the face of their loved ones and tied the bow with careful precision, curling ribbon into satin smiles, loving his contribution to moments. First dates, weddings, anniversaries, babies births; Peyton got to celebrate with people, celebrate life. He saw the thought going into flower choices and helped people pick out ribbons and cards.
Even the little cards were special. Laid pristine on the table, crisp edges and minor decoration, full of so any possibilities. People would write their own messages, bold strokes or gentle sweeping script. Neat and garbled. Love, apologies, mischief. The sweet and the cryptic. For some Peyton penned the words, he used his neatest cursive and always added a special finishing flourish.
Bright blooms, arty foliage or sedate traditional selections, Peyton loved them equally. He tended flowers, arranged them, gifted them, but never received them. He'd be thrilled to get even a tattered roadside Daisy!
He dropped in to see Chaika on his way home, disappointed to find the tall solemn fae distracted in some book. He continued turning the pages even as he opened the door and allowed Peyton entry. The aged leather cover looked soft and well handled, some guide to human-fae behaviours.
Peyton was used to mixed hospitality, he poured himself and Chaika a fragrant brew from the steaming teapot, picking out fine bone china cups and saucers in odd yet complimentary patterns to serve them. Chaika sipped without looking up.
Peyton blew softly on his drink, enjoying how the scents of berries and herbs wafted up into his face. Understated woo-woo. Chaika had been baking again and he nibbled a fresh Cinnamon cookie, eyeing it suspiciously as something about it's shape nagged his consciousness. He dismissed his fancies as unlikely, Chaika was too deliberate a type to make rude shapes out of dough.
It was companionable enough but it was his birthday and he'd hoped Chaika would remember, not for the presents but for a little notice, some small sign that Chaika liked their visits, that Peyton was perhaps special to him.
Peyton admired his friend as the fae flipped pages, absently sucking a knuckle and occasionally humming thoughtfully. Sleek purple hair that never seemed to tangle, skin dark as midnight, a colour impossible to pin down, his eyes, when you grabbed his attention, were a shock. Pale silver grey. Striking in such a dark face and magical, dramatic without the sparkle or swirl of some fae.
They met regular and Chaika always had a plate of fresh cookies on the table which suggested even at his most distracted, that he expected and welcomed Peyton. He knew of Peyton’s partiality to them. Peyton would fall over himself to please whenever Chaika turned up for unscheduled teas. Fussing around as his friend watched him avidly with that enigmatic little smile of his.
They had become good friends. When any lesser fae attempted to hassle Peyton, Chaika would appear and hover around looking haughty and disapproving until the weight of his status made the others flee. If they persisted he'd talk to them politely, in the old tongue, broking no argueents. Peyton had no idea what the words meant but even the liveliest, most pushy of the fae, would blanch and leave with a bowing apology, no longer eager to meet Peyton's eyes.
After these encounters were the other encounters. Frequent encounters yet never habit. Peyton would find himself gripped firmly and led determinedly to a bedroom or convenient flowery alcove. Those slim fae fingers would stroke and tweak until Peyton was lost in sensation. Silvery eyes would study him until he'd swear he saw stars. He'd get his turn of touching too, all that dark velvet skin and he got to taste wherever he dared.
They were friends. Both a joy and a frustration.
Feeling tired Peyton rinsed his cup, leaving it to drain. He refilled Chaika's cup and pushed the saucer so it was in reach but not a danger to his precious book. He put the best of his birthday chocolates on the table and watched as fingers blindly selected a truffle. He didn't bother to say goodbye.
He made food, keeping it simple and tasted a few treats that didn't taste as sweet as usual. He was debating an unsociable evening curled in his comfy chair with a film over meeting various friends and being lively, when Chaika turned up holding a small plain box and acting as though he should have been expected.
Peyton opened the door wide enough for the tall, slim fae to slip in, then, when Chaika stood waiting expectantly, Peyton accepted and examined his gift. It was a plant, that much he knew. Peyton blinked at it and sent Chaika a measured look that bounced off the fae's bland innocent face.
It was some relation to a cacti. The globed body was a dark succulent green and very suggestive with a flower protruding from it's core. The curvature had the slightest dimples and Peyton stroked them, his fingers drawn to touch. A silver gaze followed the gesture. The pale flower was a simple one, long narrow petals that held a high shine, happy in it's nest. Pretty, but homely too.
'Thank you!'
'Happy birth day Peyton'
'This is the first flower I've ever been given'
Confusion crossed Chaika's features and he glanced out the window to Peyton's garden which was lush with an immense variety of blooms. Peyton was good with plants but had been incredibly lucky of late. His flowers always grew well and lasted longer than any of his neighbours. Bad weather never seemed to affect even the most delicate petals. A lot of love went into the garden and was reflected back in an abundance of colour.
'You?'
Chaika ducked his head and angled his face into the shadows, if his skin was any lighter Peyton thought he'd see it flush. Peyton followed him and looked up to meet the streak of silver that ever captivated him.
'Are you staying the night?'
The small smile settled into place and a hand rose to smooth his hair back, caressing his head. Agile fingers followed the curve of his ear to tweak the lobe then follow down to the arch of his neck. Silver should look cold but deep affection made it warm comforting.
‘If you’ll have me Peyton’
Peyton thought about his garden, fae courtship and would-be admirers fleeing from secretive words. He glanced at his cheeky new plant with it's suggestive flower and remembered the subject of Chaika's most fascinating book.
'Bedroom' he suggested 'I'll just lock up' Drawing the curtains with a smile at his flourishing garden didn't take long, but it was long enough for Chaika to prepare Peyton's main birthday present. A present that wiped any lingering doubts from Peyton's mind.
Chaika lay sprawled over Peyton's bed. Face down he exhibited the long sweep of his back, broad shoulders tapering down to a lickable dip. The firm rise of dimpled butt cheeks and between those lush globes a Daisy.
Peyton giggled then moved forward. Removing the flower he placed it reverently on his bedside table, taking up the oil left there and giving the inviting butt a squeeze.
‘Chaika?’
‘Yes, my Peyton’
Chaika pushed up onto exploring fingers, offering everything Peyton desired. When Peyton sunk deep into that welcoming body the fae uttered wonderful cries, words that answered a lot of questions and promised many great things, said in a tongue both old and new. A language Peyton recognised as love.
^o^