Chapter Text
Touya despised court. It was an endless line of nobles, merchants, and others wealthy enough to attempt to curry his father’s favor with meaningless gifts, all trying to gain political standing. It was disgusting, watching a parade of people trip over themselves to stroke King Enji’s already massive ego. They’ve been at it for hours, noble after noble offering gifts of silk and wine, pledges of support for the war effort, most followed up by some sort of request for personal gain.
After the last supplicant, Duke of something, who the fuck cares, Touya throws a sideways glance at his sister to his right. Her face is carefully impassive with a polite smile, and Touya can’t help but roll his eyes. She’s always been good at this court shit, smiling and nodding and making people feel heard. While Enji listens out of some grandiose self importance, he knows Fuyumi listens to the endless drivel and requests because she actually gives a shit about the lives of the people they rule over and wants to help. She would make a good queen, Touya doesn’t have the patience or temperament for it.
Touya has to fight an internal groan at the next supplicant, a representative from the Commission. The familiar gold diamond crest is embroidered onto his rich purple silk robes, sleeves trailing almost to the floor. As an organization they have always been suspect at best, and their agents always make Touya’s skin crawl. Officially they manage public relations, logistics, and recruitment for the war effort, and work very closely with the military. Unofficially they run the kingdom’s spy network, carry out political assassinations, and other nefarious things that the king needs plausible deniability of.
“Your majesty.” The man in horrifically opulent robes bows low, the ridiculous sleeves pooling on the floor in a puddle of silk. “We have brought you a spoil of war, captured during the battle of Kamino, a rare and exotic creature for your household.” Touya sits up a little in interest, this was rather unusual as far as presents for his father went. The royal household was usually given gifts of rare foods, paintings, silks, perfumes, and other luxury goods that they were already drowning in. Some sort of creature was definitely unusual. Fuyumi spares him an anxious glance, no doubt she disapproves. She did always have a soft spot for animals and children alike. Enji just waves his hand in a gesture for the commissioner to continue, looking remarkably bored. He bows again before nodding at a few of his servants that had trailed behind at the massive twin doors at the end of the throne room.
The doors open with a heaving groan, and Touya leans forward in open interest. He was expecting a large cage to be wheeled in, containing some fantastical creature like a small wyvern or a kirin. Instead the servants yank on heavy chains, pulling in a young man with massive crimson wings. Touya can only imagine that it is a harpy, but it is the most humanoid harpy he has ever heard of. He has never seen one of the creatures in person, but the bestiaries he has read describe them as hideous creatures with more feathers than skin, claws and fangs and a screeching imitation of human speech. Fuyumi lets out a quiet gasp, and Touya fists his hands into the arms of his chair. It looks so human-like… could it possibly be sentient?
His features are obscured by a veil of shimmering crimson silk, but the ‘creature’ is clearly mostly human. His body is barely covered, more sheer silks draped around his waist just barely preserving the creature’s modesty, but leaving little to the imagination. As far as Touya can tell he has a normal human body save for the massive wings and the wide, elegant tail that just barely misses the ground. His wrists and ankles jangle with gold circlets and chains, and as he approaches the elevated dias the royal family sits on Touya notices trimmed and dulled talons on his hands and feet. Not entirely human-like then. The servants lead the man in chains to the foot of the throne before yanking him down to his knees. The harpy is utterly silent, head bowed slightly and resting his manacled wrists into the pool of his silk at his lap. Touya has the deep urge to lift the veil covering the creature’s face to see what lies beneath. His body appears largely human, will his face be more man or bird?
“A harpy, your majesty, tamed and trained for battle by the enemy. He was captured in combat, and has spent the last six months undergoing training to become a suitable pet for the royal household. I give him to you, your majesty, to serve whichever role his highness pleases.” The man gives a cruel yank on the chains, forcing the harpy’s face onto the marble floor in a facsimile of a bow. His wings splay out out and give a brief flap, just barely preventing his veiled face from crunching into the floor. Touya can’t help but wince, the treatment seems excessive. The harpy is still silent, keeping his head bowed and splaying his wings out like a crimson blanket across the floor in a show of subservience. The massive primary feathers have clearly been clipped to prevent the creature from flying, but the wings are no less impressive. The prince can’t help but wonder exactly what ‘training’ had managed to turn a hardened battle harpy into a silent pet.
“He has been trained as an excellent servant, of course, but he has also been taught music, dance, court etiquette, and, if your majesty so desires, the skills for life amongst his majesty’s harem.” Touya can’t help the slightest flinch at that, and Fuyumi audibly gasps. Out of the corner of his eye Touya spots Natsuo and little Shouto flinch slightly as well. He glances over to gauge his father’s response to such an offer, but the king’s face looks impassive as always.
“You said he was a battle harpy?” Enji’s voice is terse, showing little interest in his new gift.
“Yes, your majesty, he was able to fell twenty men before he was captured. He is quite skilled in combat if your majesty prefers him to serve in the arenas.” The king’s brow quirks up slightly at that. The king never was one for pretty concubines or dancers, but bloodsport? That seems to pique his interest. Touya feels his blood go cold.
“Very well. He will be more than suitable for a good hunt. We shall see how a downed harpy fares against the royal hounds. Once he is caught his wings will look impressive mounted in my dining hall.” The court nobles let out a boisterous laugh, and Touya notices in quiet horror that the harpy goes completely still, wings stiffening and starting to tremble slightly. It is definitely sentient, it understands exactly what the king just said. The prince casts a glance over to his siblings, expecting at the very least Fuyumi to say something. His brothers and sister are all just averting their gaze downwards, unable to look at the unfortunate creature anymore. None of them dares say a word against their father. Touya grits his teeth, if anyone is going to speak out against Enji, it’s going to have to be him.
“Actually, your majesty, if you have little interest in the harpy, I would like to keep it.” Enji’s gaze snaps to meet Touya’s, blue eyes glinting. The roiling flames around his shoulders and face cast a crimson light that makes the king’s features look harsher, more intimidating, but Touya stopped fearing his father years ago. “I’ve always wanted a pet.” The words feel harsh and cruel, but hopefully it will spare the pitiful creature’s life. Touya truly has no interest in a pet, but he would rather not watch the poor thing get torn apart by the hounds. Enji just snorts.
“A pet, Touya? Or perhaps you are finally of age to start wanting a pretty thing to warm your bed.” The king lets out a harsh laugh which is immediately echoed by the court nobles, all eager to agree with their king’s humor. Touya tries to suppress a shiver and just gives his father a fake predatory smile. The sadistic man can think whatever he wants, as long as he can keep the little bird out of the hunt. “Very well, I suppose you’re old enough for such things. Prince Touya can keep the harpy, have it delivered to his chambers.” Touya doesn’t let the relief show on his face, instead turning his fake smile down to the harpy still sitting on the throne room floor. His face falls however, as the wings on the creature’s back look no less tense, still trembling slightly in barely concealed fear.
He hardly has a moment to process why the harpy seems equally as terrified to be in Touya’s hands instead of Enji’s when he is yanked back to his feet by the chains and his wrists, and practically dragged out of the throne room by the servants. The harpy tries to hold his head and wings up as proudly as he can manage while being dragged in chains out the door. His golden bracelets jingle audibly as he is shoved towards the side doors leading to the royal apartments. Touya fights the wave of unease that settles in his gut watching the harpy get dragged away, veiled face turning to face Touya as he disappears from view.
He can’t see the creature’s eyes, but he knows they are boring into his soul nonetheless.
It isn’t until late that evening that Touya is standing at the door to his chambers, anxiety twisting in his gut. He has excused himself from dinner, asking instead for his meal to be sent to his rooms. He was handed the keys to the harpy’s chains on his way up, along with a chorus of jeering and mocking from the upper nobles congratulating the prince on his new pet. He had tried to block out the yells of unsolicited sex advice from his father’s inner council, shivering in revulsion as his father drunkenly yelled about his son finally ‘becoming a man’. He has no plans of doing any such thing tonight. Instead he just feels incredibly nervous, he certainly did not wake up this morning expecting to take responsibility for the life of a likely sentient creature. He steels himself as best he can and opens the doors, hoping to project an air of confidence he doesn’t really feel.
The room is dimly lit by the crackling fireplace and an array of candles flickering throughout the room. The massive, opulent bed dominates the right half of the room, dressed in heavy black silks and ivory furs. His massive writing desk sits opposite the bed next to the fireplace, littered with bits of paper and discarded letters, as well as ink pots in several colors. The main point of interest in the room, however, is the harpy seated on the large imported rug, staring into the fireplace. The massive crimson wings are spread across the floor, and Touya has to suppress a gasp at the up-close view of the wings. The harpy’s feathers are absolutely massive, the clipped flight feathers are still the length of his forearm. The wings and tail look incredibly soft as well, the plumes shiny and luxurious in the flickering firelight. The harpy folds its wings closer to it’s back as Touya shuts the door, turning on his knees to face the prince and dropping his head to the ground in a deep bow. His arms and legs are still chained, tied down to a metal ring embedded in the stone hearth. His wings fan out in an elegant arc across the floor, making Touya’s breath catch in his throat. To say the sight is breathtaking would be an understatement.
“Your highness.” The harpy’s voice is low and smooth, with a slight accent that makes the end of his words lilt up, almost like birdsong.
“So, you can speak. I gathered you were sentient, but I wasn’t sure how much to expect.” The harpy sits up but keeps his head bowed, face still obscured by the veil. Touya takes a few steps forward, curious. “Do you have a face or a beak under all that silk?” He reaches out a scarred hand to lift the crimson veil obscuring his face, and is unable to suppress a gasp.
The harpy is gorgeous , even by human standards. His features are elegant, eyes a deep honey gold that matches his hair, and rimmed in sharp black markings that are far too even and precise to be kohl. His eyebrows almost look like tufts of blonde feathers, matching the slightly unkempt windswept look of his golden hair. The only inhuman aspect are the harpy’s pupils, black slits that bounce between dilated and pinned in the low light. Touya didn’t know a creature this beautiful could even exist , and it only serves to highlight his own disfigurement in comparison. He lets his fingers linger in the silk veil now draped over the top of the harpy’s head, frozen in open wonderment.
The harpy says nothing, averting his gaze and fixing his gaze to the prince’s feet. Touya’s gut twists slightly, wondering if the creature is revolted by his new master’s appearance, especially in comparison to his own beauty. He wouldn’t blame him, he knows what he looks like. Touya’s snow white hair and brilliant blue eyes are the only thing left of his once good looks, unsightly burn scars maring most of his body, now starting to crawl up his neck and down to his wrists. The prince wears long sleeves and a high collar to hide as many of the scars as possible, but the burns creeping up his neck and starting to subtly mar his lower jaw are becoming increasingly impossible to hide. He swallows his nerves, trying to project a confident royal air.
“No beak then. I didn’t know harpies could look so… human.” The wings flit, almost nervously. He keeps his golden eyes trained at the prince’s feet.
“I am unlike the majority of my race in that respect, your highness. I suppose it is why I was captured to serve as a pet rather than slain in battle, my prince.” His voice is quiet, a careful monotone. Touya’s chest aches slightly, the harpy’s spirit seems completely broken. The royal household doesn’t typically keep slaves, so he is actually unaccustomed to this level of subservience. He finds he doesn’t like it.
“A pet… I suppose that is what you were gifted to me as.” Touya kneels in front of the harpy, who just flinches and ducks his head even more. “And what are you supposed to be doing as my pet, harpy? I’m afraid I’ve never had a pet before.” The harpy swallows, keeping his eyes trained to the floor. His wings start to fold up and wrap slightly around his own shoulders, and Touya feels incredibly guilty at the level of fear emanating off of the man in front of him.
“Whatever you desire, your majesty.”
Touya gets closer, reaching out to run a finger down the side of the harpy’s jaw. The creature’s beauty truly is captivating, no wonder his captors had thought to train him for harem life. Golden eyes close at the touch and the harpy freezes, holding his breath as the prince runs a long, thin finger down the elegant curve of his jaw. Touya doesn’t say anything, but the harpy seems to infer what his role will be from that single touch. He opens his eyes and tilts his head up to meet the prince’s gaze, starting to unfurl his wings and lean forwards. Their faces get incredibly close, and Touya feels like he can’t breathe as the harpy’s warm breath starts to tickle across his face. He smells like honey and jasmine, eyes going half-lidded and a taloned hand starting to reach out to rest on the prince’s leg.
Touya can feel his heart hammering in his chest, his intention was not to bed the poor creature, he has no interest in an unwilling slave as a bedmate. He opens his mouth to clarify his intentions when the golden eyes suddenly sharpen, beautiful face twisting in an ugly snarl as a hand previously hidden in crimson silks darts forward, attempting to drive a letter opener stolen from the prince’s desk straight into his throat.
Touya lets out a startled yell and jerks backwards, letting out a plume of azure flame in defense as he scrambles away from the glittering blade. The harpy hisses and pulls backwards to avoid getting burned, giving Touya time to back out of reach. The chains tying the creature to the hearth are the only thing keeping the harpy at bay, face suddenly twisted in murderous rage. Touya scrambles to his feet, lighting his hands on fire as sudden anger takes hold.
“Why you miserable little-” he cuts off abruptly as the harpy’s eyes suddenly close off, expression smoothing out to carefully blank, and posture straightening. The harpy lets out a small sigh and closes his eyes, wings drooping to the floor. Within a second he turns the letter opener around, starting to thrust the glinting silver blade upwards at his own neck, intending to slit his own throat. Touya yells in a panic and tackles the harpy to the ground, managing to grab his wrists and slam them into the opulent rug. The letter opener goes skittering across the floor and under the bed, out of reach. He keeps the harpy pinned to the ground, glaring into golden eyes that look horribly, horribly empty inside. There is a small trickle of blood spilling from his tanned, elegant neck from where he just managed to knick the skin with the blade.
“What the fuck, I didn’t save you from my fathers hunt just for you to slit your throat, what the fuck is wrong with you?” Touya hisses, grinding the thin wrists deeper into the floor. His knee is pinning the harpy’s chest to the ground, and he struggles to keep his overactive fire magic under control. The golden eyes just look cold and distant, gazing unseeingly up at the ceiling.
“I’m sorry if death is preferable to rape, your highness,” he spits, eyes starting to light up again with murderous rage. He bares his teeth. “Well? I tried to kill you, your highness. I believe that is punishable by death.” He pulls his face up to almost graze Touya’s, straining against the hands holding his wrists above his head. His breath wheezes a little at the knee digging into his chest. “Kill me. I know you want to, set me on fire, watch me burn alive. I know your family has a habit of incinerating their enemies.” Touya starts to pull back, horror growing.
“What are you waiting for, princeling? Do it. Kill me. I refuse to be the exotic pet that warms your bed. I will fight you at every turn, I won’t moan for you like a pretty little whore. You’re going to have to chain me down and muzzle me every night if you want to fuck me, so just save us all the trouble and fucking kill me.” The harpy is hissing now, starting to struggle against Touya’s hold. The cut and blunted talons scrape uselessly at the hands holding him down, no doubt forcibly cut to deprive the harpy of its built in weapons. Touya abruptly lets go and falls backwards, panting. The harpy coughs as the pressure on his chest lets up, taking a second to roll over onto his side. The thin silks around his waist are pooling like crimson blood on the floor, leaving his legs and heaving chest bare. He glares at the prince with open hatred. Touya feels nothing but horror and revulsion.
“I’m not going to kill you, and I’m not going to fucking rape you. I may look like a monster, but I like to believe I don’t behave like one.” Touya’s breath is gasping, hands still shaking. The harpy’s eyes just narrow in suspicion.
“What did you want me for then, why not just let the king hunt me for sport?”
“I couldn’t let… I didn’t want to watch you get hunted down like some animal, torn apart by dogs and get mounted like a fucking trophy. Nobody deserves that, I couldn’t just let you get killed.” The harpy stills, sitting up a little more. His wings are held half open in a defensive posture, eyes cold and suspicious.
“Why not? Isn’t that what your family does? Wage war and slaughter entire villages? Burn entire armies to ash?” Touya’s stomach drops out.
“Don’t condemn me for the sins of my father, I am NOTHING like him.” He suppresses the fire threatening to burst to life at his hands, right now is really not the time to lose control of his flames, not when he is trying to convince the harpy that he isn’t like the sadistic man who sits on the throne.
The harpy freezes at his words, sitting up fully and slowly folding his wings at his back. His posture straightens up, seeming to consider the prince’s words.
“Permit me my doubts, your majesty . What, then, is your intention with me?”
“Touya.”
“...What?”
“My name. Call me Touya.” The harpy’s eyes widen a little, golden eyes flitting across the prince’s face in surprise.
“Is this some sort of trick?” Touya sighs, burying his face in his hands.
“No I… look, I don’t want anything from you. I just wanted to keep you from getting killed, and asking to keep you as a pet was the only way I knew how to keep you out of my father’s hands. If you are the crown prince’s, ugh, property , then no one can touch you without my permission. I’m just trying to keep you safe.”
A knock at the door interrupts them, and both the prince and the harpy freeze in place. Touya scrambles to his feet, darting a hand under the bed to grab the discarded letter opener before opening the door. A servant hands him two trays of food with a small curtsey. Right, he had asked for dinner to be brought directly to his quarters. He hands the letter opener to the servant, instructing her to store it in the castle libraries before shutting the door. The harpy is still sitting motionless, chained to the hearth. Touya sets the trays down on the table before starting to search the room.
“...What are you doing?” Touya gives the harpy a withering look.
“Looking for anything else you could use to stab either of us with. I would rather keep both of our throats from being slit by a crazy fucking bird,” he snaps. The harpy just tracks his movements around the room without blinking. Touya collects several brooches, a handful of quills, a hand mirror, a porcelain vase, several glass bottles of oils and perfumes, and a particularly deadly looking hat pin before opening the door to dump them in the arms of one of the guards patrolling the halls. He does another sweep of the room, looking for anything the harpy would realistically fashion into a weapon of some kind. Satisfied, he ducks his head out to instruct a guard to keep watch, locks the bedroom door, and finally approaches the harpy on the ground again, sitting back on the floor.
“Look, I know you don’t believe me right now, but I promise, I really don't want anything from you. If you promise not to fucking stab me , I’ll do what I can to give you as much freedom as possible. My father may be a sociopath, but I promise my siblings and I are not. We take no pleasure in torturing and killing people like he does, and we truly wish you no harm.” The harpy’s eyes keep darting across Touya’s face, clearly deciding whether or not he thinks the prince is telling the truth. Touya sighs, he has to give some show of trust if he expects to win any in return. He pulls the key he was given earlier out of his jacket pocket, brandishing the little silver key in front of the harpy.
“I’m going to unlock those chains. All I ask is that you sit down at the table with me for dinner, and please don’t try and strangle me, alright? It doesn’t feel right to make you eat and sleep chained to the floor. Can I trust you?” The harpy’s golden eyes are wide and he still looks cagey and suspicious, but he nods. Touya takes a leap of faith and gets within strangling distance, taking a gentle hold of the harpy’s wrists and unlocking the manacles tethering him to the ground. The chains fall free with a metallic clank, and Touya winces at the dark, ugly bruises underneath. The harpy wordlessly rubs at his own wrists while Touya unlocks the chains around his ankles. He hands the harpy the key, hesitant talons plucking the little piece of metal and quickly tucking it away into folds of crimson silk.
“There you go, insurance. If anyone tries to chain you up again, you have the key to free yourself. Can we please go sit down and talk without any more attempted murder suicide?” The harpy nods and carefully stands, following Touya to the table in the corner of the room where the prince had placed the two trays of food. The harpy carefully pulls out the chair, turning it sideways to keep the high back from interfering with his wings and tail. He stares down at the food, flicking his eyes nervously from Touya’s face to the rich looking meat and potatoes on his plate. Touya just sighs, reaching over to eat a bite off of the harpy’s plate.
“See? Not poisoned. Now will you please just eat and stop looking at me like I’m about to set you on fire?” The harpy silently picks up his fork and starts to eat, wings fluffing a little at the taste of the food. Touya can’t imagine he’s gotten more than meager scraps since his capture, and he tries not to stare as the harpy suddenly starts to eat extremely quickly. It doesn’t take long before they’ve finished their plates, one again sitting in silence.
“Keigo.” Touya blinks in surprise.
“What?”
“My name. Keigo.”
“Well, I suppose it is nice to meet you, Keigo.” Golden eyes blink at him, looking ever so slightly more open.
“I suppose it is nice to meet you as well, Touya.” The prince gives a small smile at that, but his heart sinks slightly when the gesture is not returned. Well, at least the harpy isn’t staring at him with obvious hatred anymore. Progress is progress.
“Well then, it’s almost the middle of the night, I think it’s high time we retire to bed.” Keigo’s eyes narrow, wings flaring ever so slightly behind him. Touya can’t help but notice the subtle way the harpy tries to pull the sheer silk that passes for clothing to cover his legs as much as possible, starting to curl his wings in a poor attempt to hide his naked chest. Fuck, that’s not what he meant. Shit. He needs to watch his words more carefully.
“No, not like… I already told you I wasn’t… ugh, fuck.” Touya has never had a way with words, not like his mother or sister. He’s always had to rely on his actions to speak for him. He stands, walking quickly to the large wardrobe next to the bed. He opens the antique wooden furniture and fishes out a roomy, white linen shirt and a pair of long, soft woolen trousers that have been dyed a deep black. He lights a tiny, thin jet of flame on the end of a finger, swiping down the back of the shirt quickly to cut two long slits in the back. He repeats the process for the pants, cutting a hole for the harpy’s tail. The small action is an incredible show of the precise control Touya has over his magic, but he doubts Keigo realizes that. He tosses the clothing to the harpy before pointedly turning his back to stare at the wall.
There is a long moment of silence before Touya finally hears the rustling of clothes. The golden bracelets stop jingling, replaced instead by the gentle clatter of the metal jewelry being tossed on the wooden table. Touya sheds his black, high collared doublet, but leaves the long sleeved undershirt fully buttoned up to the hollow of his throat. He doesn’t shed his pants either, preferring to remain as clothed as possible in front of others. He doesn’t want the harpy to lose his dinner, after all. Once he is confident Keigo is fully dressed, he turns around.
The harpy looks significantly more comfortable now that he is fully dressed, and no longer forced into the sultry dancer’s silks. The white shirt is a little large, billowing out around the harpy’s torso. The trousers are too long and wide as well, threatening to slide down his narrow hips. Touya frowns a little, he’ll have to talk to the royal seamstress tomorrow to rectify the situation. He can have some of his clothes taken in at least until a new wardrobe can be sewn for the harpy.
“I’ll have those adjusted for you tomorrow.” Keigo doesn’t say anything, just staring at the prince without blinking. Touya has to admit, the not blinking thing is a little unsettling. The harpy snatches the long silk that had passed for his skirt off the ground. He tucks the overlong shirt into the top of the trousers, before tying both into place with the strip of silk around his waist.
“Thank you for the clothing, your highness.” Keigo mumbles, sweeping his arms and wings out in a small bow. His face is impossible to read, but his voice sounds tense and strained. His bow is flawless though, and suddenly it clicks. His table manners at dinner, while he was clearly starving, had been perfect as well, and he speaks properly despite the slight accent. Touya realizes that the harpy must have held at least some kind of status before he was captured as a war prize. Having nothing, not even clothes to call his own, must be humiliating for him. The prince averts his eyes in guilt.
“You don’t have to thank me.” Keigo stands from this bow, wings slowly starting to settle at a more relaxed position at his back. Touya glances awkwardly at the bed. Keigo follows his gaze, golden eyes raking over the opulent silks and furs, before calmly looking back at the prince.
“I shall not impose any further, your majesty, your clothes are enough. If you would spare me a fur I would be more than comfortable by the hearth.” Touya winces, the thought of forcing the man to sleep on the floor seems terribly wrong. Has he not endured enough humiliation today, being dragged half naked and in chains before the court? He has no intention of treating Keigo like an actual pet, making him sleep on the floor like a dog.
“It’s… It’s not an imposition. The bed is more than large enough, I swear I will not take advantage of our position.” Touya fights the slight flush starting to creep at his face. “If you would give me a few weeks, I shall have the staff furnish a room for you. In the meantime, I will not relegate you to the floor like some common hound.” It’s overly formal, far more formal than they have spoken to each other so far, but it’s the only way he knows how to smother his own awkwardness at the whole situation. Keigo’s wings flitter.
“I… Alright. Thank you, my prince.”
“Touya.”
“...Right. Thank you, Touya.” The prince shrugs and averts his eyes.
“No need to thank me. You must be tired.” Keigo just nods, approaching the right side of the bed and sliding under the silks and furs. Touya makes a quick round of the room to blow out all the candles, but leaves the fireplace lit. It’s mid autumn, and a slight chill has started to creep in at night. Touya finally joins the harpy, taking the left side of the bed. They curl up back to back, both trying to stick as close to the edge and as far away from the other as they can manage. Thankfully the bed is exceedingly large, allowing the massive crimson wings to pool in the space between them. Touya has to suppress a shudder as a few warm feathers gently graze his back.
“Goodnight, Keigo,” he mutters, pressing his eyes shut and smothering his face into the pillow. He tries very, very hard not to focus on the wall of warm plumes at his back, caressing across his back every time the harpy shifts while trying to get comfortable.
“Goodnight, Touya.” They both fall still. Touya holds his breath, unable to relax his stiff posture as he tries to pretend that he is alone in the bed. He listens as Keigo’s breath slowly evens out and his feathers stop rustling, relaxing into a gentle curtain of soft warmth that is now pressed gently along Touya’s entire back. He shifts his legs slightly, flinching when his calves and feet graze the silky feathers of the harpy’s tail. Keigo doesn’t react though, so after a moment Touya lets himself relax a little into the feel of the feathers. It isn’t long before sleep finally claims him.