Late Bloomer

Everyone scattered after the exam, but Suuzu caught Akira’s hand, needing … more. Only he couldn’t think what to say. He wavered into a posture he’d learned from Juuyu, something from one of the phoenix courting dances, something Akira wouldn’t even understand. Which was painfully frustrating.

Akira stepped closer, face upturned, expression open. “Yeah? What’s up, Suuzu.”

“I am so … confused.”

“About what?”

Suuzu glanced up and down the hall, grabbed Akira’s hand, and hurried him through the nearest door, which happened to lead to a second-floor laundry room. Nobody was using it at the moment, but if the stacks on the folding table were any indicator, this was where the mares washed bed linens and bath towels for the dormitories.

“Say, Suuzu? It’s dark.”

In a way, that made it easier to speak. Because even though Suuzu had no trouble seeing Akira’s expression, Suuzu could hide his embarrassment. “I am not sure how to wait for what I want.”

“Umm … is this a tribute problem? Like you’re not allowed to initiate any kind of courting behavior. Or is it a species thing? I’m human, so I’m missing a bunch of nuances that another avian would have picked up on? Or … is it just a me problem, since I’m the latest blooming tree-kin that ever lived.” Akira reached blindly, but he quickly found Suuzu. “If you’re waiting for me to figure out what you need, I’ll probably just disappoint you.”

Suuzu sifted through Akira’s hair and sighed. “You are not a problem. I apologize for making you think I am disappointed in any way.”

Silence took over.

“Hey, now. Come on. Keep talking. This is important. We’ve always faced our differences before. We’re just curious about different things now. At least, that’s what I keep telling myself.” Akira looped his arms loosely around Suuzu’s waist. “We were brave, so we got closer. Best friends. Only now, we’re figuring out a new kind of close. Because we’re more than friends.”

So Akira had been thinking about all of this.

Akira asked, “Remember when I was curious about your blaze?”

“I do.” That conversation—and the cautious explorations that accompanied it—had deepened Suuzu’s trust in Akira a hundredfold.

Smiling crookedly, Akira said, “And there was that whole body hair thing.”

Suuzu hung his head. “I am sorry.”

“You don’t have to keep apologizing.”

“Deeply, abjectly sorry.”

“Oh, come on. Sure, it was awkward, and I’m never telling anyone. Ever. But it’s kind of funny now.” Akira eased a little closer. “We chalked it up to cultural exchange. No big deal.”

But it had been. For Suuzu.

Akira went right on. “Looking back, when we were still in school, there were lots of times when I didn’t know I was messing with your feelings. I was thoughtless. So I need to know. Am I being thoughtless now?”

“No.” Suuzu’s warble was too melancholy to be much of a bluff. “Seeing Jacques today …? I envy his happiness.”

“Okay if I’m blunt? We can say it’s in the interest of further cultural exchange.”

“Please.”

“I’m not … what did Jacques call it? I’m not averse.”

“You confided in Jacques?”

“He’s someone I trust, and he knows stuff.” He gently reminded, “You asked him to bring us together. He wanted to help.”

“Hmm.”

“So … intimacy doesn’t frighten me or disgust me, it just doesn’t occur to me. Or it didn’t. Now that I know how you feel ….” Akira’s eyes closed, and he muttered, “It’s right there, whenever you look at me.”

Suuzu ventured, “I … apologize?”

“No. Don’t. What I’m trying to say is that you can get closer. You could kiss me again. I mean, I want to be the one you kiss. The only one.”

Suuzu managed a weak, “Oh?”

“I need to see your face. Can I turn on the light? Or do you have any of those nightlight crystals?”

“One.”

Suuzu fumbled for it, and a soft golden glow warmed the space between them. As always, Akira’s expression brightened, as if he was perpetually glad to set eyes on him. Such a small thing. Such a heartening thing. Suuzu liked being the only thing Akira could see.

“Hey,” Akira said, gaze serious. “I’m not upsetting you?”

A small headshake. A sheepish smile.

“Good. So here’s the thing. I know I’m technically supposed to be the suitor. Maybe it’s not fair, but it would help me a lot if you took the lead with this stuff. I think I’ll be comfortable with anything you might want.”

Anything? Suuzu wanted everything.

“You’re still holding back.” Akira reached up, took hold of Suuzu’s hair, and pulled until he could reach. The kiss was as straightforward as its giver. “Haven’t you waited long enough?”

Suuzu had been rushed the first time he kissed Akira, and the only one since had been a stolen peck. This time, he wasn’t taking his nestmate by surprise. Akira was calmer than Suuzu by a longshot, but there was an expectancy to his posture. He was facing their differences. He was willing to explore them.

So Suuzu stopped holding back. A little.

With whispery tuts and murmurs, he pressed kisses to Akira’s lips.

To his amazement, Akira coaxed him deeper, which was good. And distracting enough that Suuzu found himself contemplating the tidy stacks of linens and towels as nesting material. “Wait,” he managed.

Akira, who’d gone up on tiptoe, was practically beaming. “How come? This is nice.”

“Oh. Well … yes.”

Then his nestmate’s hands were in his hair, and he was exploring Suuzu’s fangs, and suddenly, there was a nibble, and Suuzu’s knees gave out. He sank to the floor.

Akira knelt in front of him, eyes alight. “More?”

Suuzu nodded, then shook his head. “Perhaps not just now. I would prefer not to establish our nest in a communal space.”

“Very sensible.” And with startling composure, Akira said, “Hey, I know.”

Then without any real fuss, Akira carefully unpinned his courting gift from Suuzu’s tunic. He smiled at the circlet of nine nippet eggs, turning it this way and that in the soft light. And making up his mind, he repined it against swagging pleats with the vert nippet egg topmost.

“A gift,” Akira said simply. “From me to you. For keeps this time. Okay?”

Suuzu managed a strangled warble.

He hadn’t expected this, even though he’d been waiting for it … wanting it.

Akira showed no trace of impatience, his gaze soft. Like he knew—because of course he knew—that Suuzu would need time to compose himself.

“Yes,” he finally managed.

Nodding once, Akira moved on. “Did I get it right? The color matters, doesn’t it? Something about secret messages. Kyrie said this would please you, but he wouldn’t tell me why.”

Suuzu looked down at the tiny green eggshell that carried a message he’d learned only recently. “In avian courting games, the vert nippet egg may be the most appropriate for a tree-kin. It is an invitation. You are asking me to help you bloom.”

“Oh! That is pretty perfect.” Akira turned around, taking his usual spot, using Suuzu as a backrest.

“Hmm.” Suuzu began toying with Akira’s hair, which would help calm him down.

“So secret messages, huh? Do you want me to ask for help? Or would you rather teach your suitor about courting games?”

“No need.”

“Really?” Akira tipped his head back, trying to see Suuzu’s face. “It seems like something I could learn. I mean, it’s gotta be easier than dance lessons with Jacques.”

Suuzu supposed it was appropriate that this, like everything else that had gone before, had been accidental. “You are no longer my suitor. Your suit is wholeheartedly accepted. I am yours.”

“Really?”

“Truly.”

“Okay, that was much simpler than a three-year courtship with a full-time staff and publicity campaign.”

“Much.”

“So … we’re bondmates?”

“We are.”

Akira sat there, totally relaxed. His calm was catching, and Suuzu returned to preening.

Finally, Akira tipped his head back, once more seeking Suuzu’s gaze. “Are you disappointed? I didn’t do anything to make this special. I mean, you deserve better than an ultra-private non-ceremony in a laundry room. Weddings should be memorable.”

“The founding of a nest does not require ceremony. Only … love.”

“Yeah? We’re set then.” And with the simple acceptance that had first drawn Suuzu to him, Akira said, “I love you, too.”