When Gem saw the flashing lights, he squealed in excitement and jumped an entire circle around Rusty. “I love the carnival!”
“I know you do,” Rusty said, dragging a nearly weeping Araknis toward the entrance. “But I’ve never been. Figured you could show me the ropes.”
Before he could even buy the tickets, Gem was hoisting Rusty off his feet into a bone-crushing hug. Face buried in Rusty’s neck, Gem mumbled nonsensically as Rusty struggled to inhale.
“What?” he wheezed, and Gem popped his head up, sniveling obnoxiously.
“This is the best hatchday ever.”
“We haven’t even gone in yet,” Rusty said.
“It’s still the best,” Gem said, before he swooped in and kissed Rusty until he was breathless. “How I adore you.”
And everything inside Rusty turned to mush. His bones went noodly, and his organs melted. To hide the humiliating reaction, he grabbed Gem’s face almost roughly and kissed him again. They made out for several minutes against the fence until Rusty was overheated and frustratingly hard in his jeans.
With his leg hitched between Rusty’s, Gem felt it, and he smiled against the Pyclons mouth. “I was thinking we could have sex later, since it’s my hatchday and all. Would you want to?”
They hadn’t had sex since their sixty-nine exchange Sunday night, and Rusty found himself nodding, even as his brain fought to catch up. “I mean, who am I to say no to the hatchday girl?”
With another wiggle of excitement, Gem kissed him again, filthier this time, and Rusty growled, digging his claws into the back of Gem’s neck. Gem moaned into his mouth, rubbing his thigh against Rusty’s aching cock, and Rusty bit Gem’s lip in retaliation.
Gem gasped, and Rusty tasted blood. He jerked away with a whine, staring in horror at the glimmering smear on Gem’s bottom lip.
“Fuck, I’m sorry,” he said, but before he could panic, Gem pressed three fingers to Rusty’s mouth.
“Don’t be.” Gem licked up the small bead of blood, then leaned in, practically feeding it into Rusty’s mouth. It was sharp and a little bitter, but that primal creature that lived deep in Rusty’s gut howled at the taste. He wanted to bite Gem again, wanted to bite him harder.
As usual, Gem seemed to know what he was thinking, and he grinned darkly. “I like when you get rough with me, remember?”
“Still. I didn’t mean to…” Rusty drifted off as he swiped an apologetic thumb over Gem’s perfect lip.
Gem snickered and proceeded to cover Rusty’s face with kisses. “You don’t scare me, Care Bear, even if your bite can be worse than your bark.”
The tightness in Rusty’s chest eased, and he rubbed his cheek against Gem’s. “We should probably stop before we get arrested for public indecency.”
“Ooh, that sounds like a fun hatchday activity too.” Untangling them, Gem grabbed Rusty’s hand and hauled him toward the ticket booth where the bored Gorgyn was glaring at them, lip curled. “The public indecency. Not the getting arrested,” he clarified as Rusty handed over enough myrels to gain them entrance.
“I’m not fucking you in public,” Rusty said.
“Of course, you’re not,” Gem said, winking one large eye at him. “We’d never do something so vulgar.”
“You’re doing that winking thing again, which makes me not believe you,” Rusty griped, but Gem simply guffawed and yanked him into the small throng of carnival goers.
They spent several hours visiting all the different stalls, playing games that were clearly rigged against them. It was a waste of their money, but Gem’s unbridled joy made it all worth it. Rusty even managed to win one of the shooting games, and Gem chose a stuffed pinkkrimpias the prize, hugging it exuberantly to his chest.
“I shall name her Rusti,” he said, and Rusty rolled his eyes, even as his traitorous tail swayed in pleasure.
They ate carnival food that covered Rusty’s fingers with grease and dusted Gem with sugar. “Looks like I’m douching later,” the Araknis whispered as he shoved half a hunlet leg into his mouth, picking the bone clean.
He handed it to Rusty, who accepted it gladly, crunching through the bone to slurp up the marrow inside. “You assume I put out,” Rusty teased, and Gem snorted, a lower hand feathering over the front of Rusty’s jeans.
“Oh, baby, your pheromones don’t lie.”
Lunging up, Rusty kissed him, and it was sticky and greasy and wonderful.
As night fell, they shared a shaved ice flavored with kili as they rode a tall, rotating ride. The height was intimidating, but Gem kept two arms firmly hooked around his waist, securing Rusty to his side. As they hovered at the top, the twin moons so close and bright, Rusty tipped his head back and yowled up at the sky.
After a moment, Gem did the same, both of them calling to the moons, to the gods that Rusty’s mother had told him about all those years ago. And it was good.
