Vixen (boyxboy)

[18] Ears.

     "Vixen."

     Vixen snickered, his ears fluttering. "No, try again."

     Crow opened his eyes. "Vixen."

     The fox man tsked. "Last try."

     Crow moved his eyes around as if looking for a possible answer. "Vixen."

     Vixen laughed lightly, bringing their noses together. "Wrong, the answer was Scarecrow."

     Crow covered his eyes with an arm and turned on his side. "Why's it in my tower."

     Vixen dropped to his side and started pecking the arm hiding those gorgeous eyes from him. "He just walked here himself. No man can let me go that easily."

     Crow stretched his arm around Vixen's neck and brought him closer in an almost painful grip, then pressed their lips together.

     Vixen moaned happily and gripped his tank top, fumbling with the material while he fidgeted around, as opposed to his earlier cheekiness. Surely it was the reaction Crow had went for, and Vixen willingly gave in.

      It was just, straight up good to have the man's wet lips onto his, and feel the tongue brush his own every other smooch.

     So good that Vixen's convulsing legs sent the blanket everywhere, tangling their legs into a maze. It must've bothered Crow because he pulled back from the kiss and kicked away the blanket, then picked it up and darted it over Scarecrow.

     Vixen grinned and extended his arms after Crow, but the man remained standing by the mattresses, a naked foot on top of them as he eyed him.

     There was something about the pose, or his ruffled hair and simplistic black clothes that just made Vixen feel that warmth in his belly which told him things were going to go down... well, up.

     He dug his heels into the mattress and pulled himself closer to Crow, arms trailing after him. Crow gripped him by the armpits and darted him back up, then reached under his oversized t-shirt and hooked his fingers around the waist of his boxers before pulling them right off.

     Crow blocked out Vixen's reaction, too absorbed by the beauty of those parallel, twin beauties, as he slipped the material down with ease.

     Once the boxers were off, he circled his left ankle with his middle and thumb fingers. Vixen was sitting up by then, watching him curiously.

     Crow rubbed his skin and then let go of his ankle to run a hand up his calve, the back of his knee and upper, until he reached the hem of his shirt and looked him in the eyes.

     Vixen smiled.

     Crow got close to his ear, his lips barely brushing the fluff, and it flapped hysterically as it always would when something got near it. It tapped Crow's mouth continuously until Vixen ducked, covering his head.

     It still made Crow want to laugh, as it did back then.

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     The two friends sat on the low, thick branch of a tree, in a public yet vacant park. Since Crow was rarely (never) keen on conversation, Vixen had some earphones shoved in his fox ears, listening to Marilyn Manson.

     Crow could hear it from nearly the edge of the branch, which kept dangling since Vixen would push his feet against the ground.

     Crow was not amused by the motion, it clearly didn't suit him. He slowly glanced to the right, and watched his friend look ahead with an angry look, probably from the angry lyrics of the angry band.