Page 56 of How Not to Date a Griffin

“Mhm. Can I touch your feathers?”

Reid swallowed. “Sure.”

“It was rather annoying to sort through all the care of feathers that aren’t attached, but eventually I found that hemp oil is good for shining them up,” he said casually, calmly, and not like it was the sweetest thing anyone had ever done for Reid in his entire life.

Most birds have a gland that produces oil naturally so they can clean their feathers. Well, Reid’s only half-bird, so he didn’t get one. Which meant he kept a stock on hand. At home. And maybe it’d been a few months since he’d actually done them up, because, well. He was lazy, he’d admit it. And it didn’t interfere with his flying, or the rideshare job he’d taken for some extra money.

Reid’s wings fluttered, shivering at the first touch, and he sucked in a breath.

“Alright?” Nolan asked, pausing.

“Yeah, yeah it’s fine,” Reid said, trying to force more volume into his voice because it threatened to come out as a whisper.

“Are there any places you want me to avoid? Too ticklish or sensitive?”

He shook his head against his forearms, laying his forehead down and breathing through the crater in his chest.

And so began the most delightfully torturous half-hour of his life.

Nolan slicked his hands with the oil, the soft hush of his skin somehow audible over Reid’s racing pulse.

It was slow-going at first, and gentle. His touch began so lightly that Reid hardly would’ve known he was there, if not for the weight across his thighs. But the more Nolan continued, the more Reid sank into the bed, eyes drifting shut. His chest pushed into the mattress with every breath, and it was comforting to have Nolan’s weight pressing back.

The more Reid relaxed, the more confident Nolan became with his hands. His fingers stroked over his feathers, in between them, ruffling and combing until constant chills raced over Reid’s skin.

It stretched into a muted kind of pleasure, nothing demanding, just warmth and softness and the sound of their breaths and the hush of skin against feathers.

Reid’s worries melted away under the heat of Nolan’s fingers.

He was fighting sleep when Nolan adjusted, shifting his weight to one knee and sliding the other between Reid’s thighs. Settled across the back of his left thigh, Nolan could reach the tips of his feathers when Reid helped, curling the wing close.

However, he was more concerned with the knee sliding between his legs, a whisper of a touch so light he wondered if Nolan even noticed.

The thought of sleep slowly burned away beneath his steady touch, leading Reid back to this moment as if it had been his destination all along, Nolan guiding him sure and firm.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Nolan asked, voice gentle as his touch.

“It feels silly now,” Reid admitted. “I feel better.”

He could sense Nolan’s smile before he heard it in his response. “I think you’ve heard enough of my problems to warrant a little sharing of your own, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Nolan’s warm hand closed around his shoulder and squeezed once before slipping away to press into the bed. Reid held his breath as Nolan straddled his other thigh, shifting his attention to his right wing, knee brushing his inner thighs.

Great. Now he was horny.

Reid focused on each touch, but remembered Nolan had asked him a question.

“It’s not that I don’t wanna talk about it,” he said, pushing up and glancing over his shoulder. Nolan’s hands paused on his feathers, the concentrated furrow to his brow easing. “It’s that I want to fuck you more.”

Nolan’s cheeks flushed red instantly, his gaze darkening. “Oh.” He cleared his throat. “Well. That’s certainly... Okay. But I won’t be able to sleep if you don’t let me finish this wing first.”

Reid rolled his eyes, an affectionate grin tugging his lips. “Fine, fine. If you must.”

Nolan pressed him back down to the bed. “I must, sorry.”

If Reid expected him to hurry through the rest of his task, he should’ve known better. Nolan took just as much time with the remaining feathers as he had with all the others. He worked the oil through the individual feathers, his fingers sure and gentle, his weight a solid presence against Reid.

Warmth slowly gathered in Reid’s belly, spreading and burning low with each pass of Nolan’s hands, each bit of oil melted into his feathers, massaged into his skin.