dewther and their favourite places to kiss each other is that sliver of skin underneath the ear. it's ticklish and feather-light, a brush of unyielding affection, and the place where their scent is most potent.
dew's always rewarded with a giggly aether when he kisses him there so of course he begins to tease more; hot breaths and fever-warm lips. his element—which has always been dangerous and volatile—is twisted into something playful for his love. into something kind. into something that draws aether into his arms.
aether purrs when dew does this, burly arms curling around the slope of dew's waist and tugging him close—his sputtering furnace mixing with aether's rippling tenderness.
he loves him. satanas, oh how he loves aeth.
(can't help myself but thinking about how when aether left, dew started wearing his hair down more and dressing up more; turtle necks and collared button-ups even when it's warm out—his last semblance of hiding himself, especially his most sensitive spot. aether's favourite place to kiss.)