"Pit," I whisper, wrapping my arms around him and burying my face into his shoulder. "Pit... did I ever tell you that I love you?" He remains silent for a moment, then tightens his grip around my waist.
"Y-yeah..." A shudder. A sniffle. He's crying? "When you..." A pain hits my heart, and I can't bring myself to do anything but hug him tighter. "I was so scared, Pittoo," he says in a hushed voice. "I was scared to lose Lady Palutena, but when it came to you I just... I couldn't handle any more deaths because of me." By now tears are rolling down his cheeks, dripping down my neck. "And it h-hurt... it hurt so much..." His wings quiver at the memory. "They burned. They were gone... I was dying." He lets out a slow, shaky breath. "All my life I served Lady Palutena. I loved her, followed her, dreamed of marrying her one day. But as I died, the only person I could think of was you."
The nightmarish memory is all too clear in my mind. His unmoving body, filthy with blood and dirt, lying facedown in the dust. The sickening smell of burnt flesh and feathers nearly making me gag, but I can only stare, horrified, at the worst part of it all...
For a moment I could only stare- at the blood, at the exposed and burnt slender wing bones, how a few charred, smoking feathers remained on the remains of his beautiful wings... Then I was at the island's edge, gagging and sobbing and ready to leap to my death if he didn't have a chance. And the worst part was knowing that he had done this for me.
"I thought I was dying, or that I would be revived but stay wingless forever. Grounded, Pittoo. Cut off from Skyworld, from Lady Palutena, from you... I wanted to die."
"But you didn't. We didn't." I unfurl my raven-coloured wings and wrap them around his body lovingly. Pit sniffles, and I can only imagine his blissful smile from being rescued from his mental underworld.
"Thank you... for everything, Tip." I smile despite my tears, my fingers finding the spots on his back from which grew soft, downy feathers. He fans out his wings and they seem to glow. They may be undersized and lacking in magic, but to me they're the most beautiful things in the world... Except for Pit himself.
He loosens his grip, relaxing at the feel of my fingers lightly massaging the bases of his wings, and sighs happily. His dovelike wings open fully, pure white feathers spread as if he could fly away any moment. Pale moonlight catches on them perfectly. He looks so pure, so innocent... Ah, he truly is divine!
I stop, pulling away enough to look into his eyes.
"Why'd you stop?" Pit asks alsmost pleadingly, his voice quivering.
"Because... I... I'm..."
"You're...?"
"I'm scared," I choke, averting my eyes from his confused pools of sapphire. "I'm scared I'll hurt you, that I'll make a mistake and you'll hate me..."
"Pittoo," he cooes softly, reaching a hand up to stroke my cheek. The contact makes me shiver and blush, my mind too numb to register that he'd used the damned pet-name. I can only think of touching him back, his skin growing heated against mine as I stroke his back and arms. His skin feels fantastic against mine, so perfect it only makes sense that we're basically the same person. Suddenly our clothing starts to feel far too uncomfortable; too hot, too sweaty. And most of all, I want to touch more of his; to feel his body against mine... naked.
I pull off his scarf slowly, making sure he's comfortable with my movements, and expose his fair, delicate neck and shoulders. Gently, I lean close to kiss the sensitive flesh of his neck. "A-ah, Pittoo..." he lets out a soft moan as I continue my way down to his shoulder. His quivering wings give me an idea. Slowly I make my way to his back and plant a kiss at the base of his right wing. My twin shivers at this, tempting me to go further. I draw my tongue across the tender flesh and he tenses, groaning. He tastes like sweat and war, with just the slightest touch of honey... Beneath my tongue his skin starts feeling hot. Even in the sparse light I notice a fine sheen of sweat on his exposed skin. Every moan, every whimper that comes from his lips makes me feel hotter as well. My heart is pounding, I can hardly think straight...
"Stop," he pants. "T-too hot...!" I only nod, noticing how badly the two of us are shaking by now. Immediately I start to pull my clothing off, unashamed, as he watches confusedly. "Tip, what're you-"
"What does it look like?" I snap, letting my belt clatter to the ground. :I just have to get out of these..." Pit remains silent, then nods.
"Good idea," he says, sounding a bit nervous. He glances down at himself, his cheeks flushed red. "Shorts too?"
"Shorts too," I repeat. "Besides, isn't your 'Fireworks Cannon' feeling cramped...?"
"My what?"
"You know. Your, um..." I point down, at the rather noticeable bulge in his shorts, to illustrate my point.
"Oh. U-um, yeah..." Pit begins to tentatively push his shrts down, at least until I raise a hand to stop him. "What-"
"Shhh," I hiss softly. "Let me do it." Blushing madly and shaking with arousal, my friend nods. I drop to my knees, hesitate a moment, and pull his shorts down. What greets my eyes is exactly what I expected. He's big- the same size as mine, of course- and as stiff as possible. I take it into my right hand and start to rub slowly, his body squirming and tensing as he lets out his breath loudly. Suddenly I'm reminded of those lonely nights when we were still one...
"More," he pants, and I happily pick up my rhythm. My own urges are too much to bear at this point, and I clumsily push my shorts down to stroke myself as well. This is so different than the times he'd touched himself, yet so similar... I look up into his curious blue eyes, then back down at what I'm doing with my hands. It feels strange, though not dirty. As if I'm doing this with myself...
'Well, maybe because I am,' I note with a smile.
X*x*X*x
((A/N: Most likely not finishing this. Don't expect a miracle. I probably most-likely won't get any decent fics up for the next year or so, in fact...
and yes, I know that Fireworks Cannon is a stupid inside-joke.
-Dimmy/Tippit/some faggot))