Charming

Full Version: Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling
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Rating this as M because a very naked man will be appearing in this thread
July 2, 1892 — Greengrass Residence
It had taken a bit considering how difficult it was to fly in rain. However, he had adequately predicted that it would be a short storm as it soon cleared up. He had made it to Bartonburg and he had to note that everything looked very different in an aerial view. And well, as a raven albeit one with green eyes and faint gold markings where his amulet necklace tended to be. Tycho kept flying and soon he had managed to find what he was looking for. He recognized some of the surrounding landmarks of the Greengrass residence.

He had been here for dinner and he thought he remembered which side Ford's bedroom had been on. He saw that he was right and lost no time flying into the room. Only he used a little bit too much momentum in his excitement and ended up thrashing around the bedroom, causing a bit of a mess. Shit. He should have fully figured out the whole transforming to human thing first. Was he now going to be stuck as a raven forever?
When the bird flew into his room, Ford was mentally debating the pros and cons of robbing a Muggle modiste.

Cons:
- a potentially grave violation of the International Statute of Secrecy if he were caught
- the clothes would obviously not be tailored to fit, and having them later tailored elsewhere might seem suspicious
- the general morality of the thing


Pros:
- it was the only solution Ford had determined so far for the problem of how he would furnish Clementine with this list of items Mama insisted were necessary for new debutantes, and nevermind what Grace would need.


He'd been sat at the desk in his cramped room for over an hour trying to balance the figures in the various family accounts, but no amount of math scribbled in the margins of his parchment was going to make money appear out of nowhere. They simply couldn't afford it, which meant they'd have to prioritize on what they needed and scrimp and save elsewhere — which in turn meant he would have to admit to them all how dire things were.

Or he could rob a Muggle modiste. Maybe he could claim the things had been imported and that was why they needed to be tailored, after having been purchased elsewhere? But not from France — too many people went to France regularly and would ask about the shops. And where did one import women's clothes from, if not France?

When he saw the flutter of wings at the window he assumed it was an owl, and even after he realized the coloring was wrong he still thought it must have been a letter. Buying some weird, exotic bird to deliver mail didn't seem far-fetched for Tycho, so it might have been him. There wasn't a letter, though... and what was more, the bird's flapping had knocked half the papers off Ford's desk within seconds of arrival.

"Hell," Ford swore as he ducked, then subsequently lost his balance and fell out of his chair and to the floor. Did he really have a wild bird in his bedroom? What was he supposed to do about that? His hand went to his pocket, but his wand had been out on the desk when the bird flew in, and was now... somewhere.

Ford grabbed the nearest thing he could find — a blanket that had slipped off the foot of his bed — and waved it at the mess of wings, hoping to spook it back towards the window.
Blissfully ignorant of his friends thoughts of robbing a modiste, Tycho tried finding a good place to perch himself where he could focus better. Too high and he would end up falling when he was in human form. Too low and Ford would get him with that blanket he was waving around at him. He managed to gain control of his wings once more so he was kind of hovering around Ford, avoiding the blanket as best as he could.

He imagined his own form in his head, picturing every detail of himself. It worked and he changed back to his human form. Only he forgot the part about clothing so he was naked as the day he was born outside of his amulet. He had also transformed mid-hover and that had resulted in him crash landing on top of Ford. Luckily, he had not been so high up that either of them were hurt though the wind was knocked out of Tycho for a bit.

But still. Tycho was hella naked with all five of his tattoos on full display as well as other parts of him. "Well, that was an experience," he said as he managed to roll off of Ford so that he was lying on his back beside him.
Ford had thought this isn't working, what next? when the nature of his problem changed dramatically. He hadn't been looking up at the bird when the change happened, instead casting a glance around at the floor around him for something he could perhaps throw at it. As a result, a person landing atop him caught him entirely by surprise. He couldn't help the noise of surprise — "Ah!" — but as the whole thing had knocked the breath out of him, he wasn't capable of saying anything else, even if he'd known what to say. Where the hell had this person come from? There were anti-Apparition charms on the house (as there would have been in any respectable house that was home to unmarried young women), so it couldn't have been a run of the mill burglar. Before Ford could devote any more thought to who this tangled mess of limbs belonged to or how this person had arrived here, the other man spoke, and Ford immediately recognized the voice.

"Tycho?" At first he was still confused. It was undeniably Tycho but how Ty had materialized in his bedroom (and why) were still mysteries. And what had happened to the bird?

That was the missing piece of the puzzle. When he realized the bird was gone, the rest fell into place. The final step of the process involved a storm, and there had just been one earlier tonight — the only reason Ford had opened his window in the first place was that he was nostalgic for the way their old home in the country had always smelled right after it rained. Ford's face broke into a wide grin, and without thinking he launched himself at Tycho to hug him. "You did it!"
Tycho laughed when Ford said his name, still blissfully ignorant to his personal lack of clothing. He was just so thrilled to have managed the change back. He would need to get a better handle on that. At least he wasn't stuck living life as a raven.

He hugged Ford back as the other man launched himself at him. "Yes! I wanted to tell you right away but thought showing you might be even better!"
In the flurry of movement and the confusion of the moment Ford hadn't fully realized Tycho's state of undress, but he was forced to confront it now. As soon as he'd wrapped his arm around Ty's torso he noticed that there was skin beneath his hands where there ought to have been a shirt. He started to look down but forced himself to stop before he saw anything — anything, that was, except a very well placed tattoo. The relief that had filled him a moment ago — relief because bloody hell, he'd actually done it, and now Ford didn't have to worry that he'd end up maiming himself whenever the attempt occurred — flooded out and were replaced by embarrassment. This was only compounded when Ty started talking about showing instead of telling.

Ford was still on top of Tycho, and now that the other man was hugging him back it would have been difficult to disentangle himself without turning this into an impromptu wrestling match. He stayed where he was, but his cheeks flushed deep red. "Uhm. Ty..." he started, but didn't know how to continue. Surely this hadn't been part of the plan?
"You're quite becoming when you blush like that," Tycho said, poking one of Fords reddened cheeks. That was when he finally realized that where there had been a very nice shirt covering his arms and wrists - there was none now. His gaze traveled down his arm and then down the rest of himself and he realized he was quite naked. This was probably the first time Ford had ever seen Tycho actually look the slightest bit bashful. "Uh. Looks like I haven't quite mastered changing back with clothing. Perhaps.. a blanket? Unless you wanted a good look, that is." Because even in the midst of experiencing actual embarrassment (for once), Tycho couldn't help but hit on Ford.
Tycho touching his cheek did something to Ford's insides, even if he was only doing it in jest. They were awfully close. Ford was practically on top of Tycho. It would be easy to — well. It would be easy for things to get out of hand.

Tycho had to have known that. He wasn't naive. He'd been the one to come here in the first place, and...

... and apparently the lack of clothing was accidental after all. Ford felt slightly deflated at that and told himself it was more confusion than anything else, but the truth was that he didn't have time to fully interrogate the feeling because of what Tycho said next. Ford's cheeks grew even deeper red.

"No, no," he sputtered, altogether too quickly. "I wasn't — I didn't — uhm. I didn't mean to."

He still had not moved off of Ty, nor taken any steps to retrieve a blanket, because Ford's brain was stuck in a loop several steps prior to taking any actual action.
Tycho didn't really know what to make of Fords expressions. The other mans cheeks got even redder which Tycho hadn't thought possible. He chuckled as his best friend stammered though fell silent as Ford failed to actually move off of him.

Ford was still practically on top of him and Tychos body was starting to catch up and react.

Well, then. This was awkward. All Tycho could really do for the moment was stare back at Ford, his hand moving of its own accord as it moved to caress the other mans cheek, his fingertips lightly playing with the ends of Fords hair. What was he even doing? Well, he knew but he had been resisting this kind of thing for months now because he didn't want Ford backing off from him.
That Ty laughed at him was bad enough, but when he reached to touch Ford's face again, Ford felt as though he actually might die. The expression on his face may have been panic, but he couldn't help how the rest of him reacted — given their proximity, it was now obvious that they were both turned on. Ford's heart was beating so hard and loud it was making it difficult for him to think, but the few thoughts he could manage mortified him. At the moment they seemed to be in a strange dissociative bubble, but eventually it would pop and they'd both have to deal with the fact that Tycho had caressed his cheek and Ford had had an erection (somehow this seemed far more damning and embarrassing than the reciprocal) and when that happened Ford was going to absolutely die from embarrassment.

Staying in this position was unsustainable. The eye contact from Tycho was so intense Ford felt he might melt below the heat of it. When he broke it, however, he didn't move away; instinct instead brought him closer to Ty as he pressed his cheek against Tycho's chest and hugged him tightly once again.
The expression of Ford's face was kind of priceless. He looked so panicked. Though he didn't know if that had to do with the reaction he could feel coming from Ford or something else. This was kind of uncharted territory in his relationship with Ford and he had no idea which direction things could end up in.

And if he lost this connection, if what he did next ruined everything that they had come to mean to one another, it would hurt.

So would not doing anything and forever wondering what might have happened if he had just been the smallest bit braver. Perhaps this wasn't the best move to be making when he was literally naked while Ford had clothes on. It was also hard to do much of anything else when Ford was pressing his cheek against his bare chest and hugging him tightly. Tycho was a little afraid to speak which he knew was quite atypical of him.

His hand slid from Fords cheek down to his chin so that he could make Ford look back up at him as he leaned forward as best he could in their current position and brushed his lips against Fords.
Ford had chosen a bad position to be in. For one thing, if he tried to look anywhere from this vantage he couldn't help but see quite a bit of what he'd just told Tycho he hadn't been looking at. For another, Tycho was still touching his face, which was tying his stomach in knots. This was better than making eye contact from less than a foot away, but only barely. Ford's palm itched from how badly he wanted to touch Ty's hip tattoo.

Touching Tycho would be bad for him. Sitting here and allowing Tycho to keep playing with his hair and caressing his cheek would be a recipe for disaster. Having to make eye contact again would be crushing. But the worst by far would be having to talk about anything that was happening. Right now, Ford was panicked by the mere possibilities of any future conversations. He wasn't ready to start actually having them.

When Ty tipped his chin up Ford felt a rush of panic and dread, sure that his friend was going to say something. When he didn't, Ford could hardly process the fact that Tycho had kissed him, only that he hadn't said anything that Ford now needed to respond to.

Oh, thank Merlin, Ford thought in a rush. He returned the kiss and then some. He shifted his position to a slightly more intentional one, so that he was straddling Tycho, and moved one hand up to tangle in Ty's hair. He was prepared to kiss Tycho forever if it meant never having to actually unpack what was happening.
The silence seemed to stretch and it felt fragile to Tycho. He did not want to break it because he felt like it would ruin whatever was currently happening. He'd dreamed of a moment like this with Ford countless times with but even his avid imagination had not prepared him for the reality of it all.

Merlin knew he'd had lovers before. Yet internally he somewhat felt like a fumbling school boy experiencing his first kiss.

Ford had shifted position and hand tangled a hand in his hair which allowed for Tycho to sit more upright on the floor that they had been sprawled on. Albeit still underneath Ford which was just fine by Tycho as he deepened their kiss and wrapped his arms around the other mans waist. Had he actually died during the transformation, after all and this was some sort of after life paradise?
As the initial rush of panic ebbed Ford had to confront the feelings that replaced it. This felt nice. He was kissing someone, and that hadn't happened in months. His insides were warm, his skin flushed with adrenaline, and his heart was racing. He was kissing Ty, and that had its own flurry of nerves associated with it. He didn't want to mess this up.

Ford felt Tycho's arm on his waist and untucked his shirt so that Ty's hand could rest beneath it. It felt important that Tycho was able to touch him skin to skin. He bit Tycho's lower lip and put his free hand against Tycho's bare chest, where it began to gravitate lower as they continued to kiss.

I'm going to touch him, Ford thought with a giddy thrill.

Then, half a beat later, with a panic that ground everything else in his head to a halt: We can't sleep together in my bedroom.

Ford broke off so abruptly that he nearly fell backwards in his haste to put some space between the two of them.
Tycho's hands immediately found their way up the back of Fords shirt when the other untucked it. His fingers lightly traced over the other mans skin. He was a little surprised when Ford bit his lip. Ford had not struck him as the type to be so aggressive but he was not against that.

Fords hand was sending a thrill through him as it went on his chest and began to lower.

Next thing he knew, their lips had parted and Ford was nearly falling backwards off of him. "Do I kiss that badly?" Tycho said, making a small show of checking his breath. He also hoped that Ford didn't regret what had happened. "I've no regrets. I've been wanting to kiss you for a really long time."
On hearing that, Ford's heart lifted and his stomach fluttered. He opened his mouth to ask You have? but held off. He had to remember that Tycho did this (things like this) all the time. He'd had Cleon Broadmoor staying the night and the pair of them weren't even close enough that Tycho talked about him often (at least not to Ford), so it wasn't like Tycho wanting to kiss him made him special, or anything. In fact, maybe this made their relationship less special. Had there ever been days where Ford thought they were spending time together because they were good friends, when Ty had only invited him hoping they might fall into bed together?

It wasn't something that Ford had any rights to be upset about; Tycho just led a very different life than he did. Ford had to be careful not to project, though. He could not assume that when Tycho said something like he'd wanted to kiss Ford for a long time that it meant the same thing as it would have coming from Ford.

"Well, you picked a hell of a way to do it," Ford said. He was trying to replicate their familiar cadence of conversation even though the kiss still had him feeling dizzy. He scooted back along the floor, hoping that increasing the space enough that their legs were no longer tangled together would help.

"You can't stay here. My whole family lives here and I'm not — going to try to explain this to them," he said, waving his hand vaguely between the pair of them when he said this.
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