They moved rhythmically together, their movements sweetly intense, erotic and passionate.

Huge, soft, snow-white feathers fell off, loosened and detached during the throws of passion. They left easily, floating through the air undamaged and moving slowly, as though they were going through water or clear syrup.

Glossy, well oiled, butter-soft leather trembles under the onslaught of sensations. The thin, fine, easily torn membrane is slick with sweat. Tiny feathers cling to it, bound by the mixture of salt, pheromone soaked water, and leather-like skin. The pure whiteness of the feathers glow like stars or some kind of alien flower against the blackness.

They curl together, one on top, one below.

They rub against each other, embrace each other, cling to each other, two entities bound together by one thing. The friction produces heat, the offspring of their mutual passion. It’s warm, but not intense. Instead, the heat is gentle, soothing, and almost drug-like, muddling the mind.

Drug-like, all they want to have is more. Drug-like, it reduces them to the most basic and carnal of desires. They’re slaves to it, to the rhythm, to the passion, and around them is nothing but a void of orgasmic pleasure, separate from the swirling white and black landscape, sucking anything within their reach into the endless spiral of primal delight.

“Would you two please cut it out already!?” Kamui turned his head to look over his shoulder and snap at them. One foot was wedged in one of the free-floating gears that decorated the alien landscape, anchoring him in place. His voice echoed oddly, the only noise outside of their occasionally violent passion. “Some of us are trying to study!” He thumped the chemistry textbook before him for emphasis.

Kamui was not in the least bit surprised when his words were ignored. The intense, almost overpowering love-making behind him continued without even a moment’s hesitation. Scowling, he turned back to his book, lips moving slowly as he tried to memorize the formula for calculating heat. Somehow, it did not take his mind off what was going on behind him.

Anger and power rose in Kamui, and once again he turned to unleash his fury. “I told you to stomph!!!” He choked in disgust and spit out a mouthful of feathers. “This is just ridiculous! Gah! Stop it!” Fiercely, he shoved his right wing away from his face. It had been rubbing encouragingly at his cheek and along his throat, then up near his eyes, almost making him sneeze. Glaring softly, he spit out another bit of white feather fluff. “I have a test tomorrow. Let. Me. Study.”

The right wing made his right shoulder shrug, as if to indicate it didn’t care how Kamui felt about the situation, and it wasn’t interested in listening to him talk anymore if he was going to be so uncooperative. Gracefully, it flapped slowly before going to rub against the soft inner membrane of Kamui’s left wing with the part of the right wing that connected to Kamui’s right shoulder.

Kamui grit his teeth, fingers curling tightly around the corners of his text book. It was hardly fair. His mother had died in a fiery blaze, his almost-but-not-quite-really-girlfriend had been impaled on a cross by her brother and his best friend. Said best friend was now a crazy, evil, admittedly sexy, bastard who tried to molest him every time they met.

And now for some reason he couldn’t explain, he had wings that didn’t even match growing out of his shoulder blades.

And the wings were making what could only be described as sex. While still attached to his body.

Half-snarling, Kamui snapped his head to his left, getting a bit of boney black skeleton in the nose. “How many times do I have to make it clear that I’m trying to study!?”

Kamui’s left wing wrapped around him, a soft, thin leather blanket, and hooked it’s claw on the joining spot between his shoulder and the right wing. It snuggled against him hopefully and rather damply.

Exasperated, Kamui threw his textbook away and tried to unwrap his left wing. “This is insane! It wouldn’t even be a threesome, you know.” He fiercely shook both wings, managing to unhook the left one, and manoeuver them back into their comparatively normal positions. “I’m a human being,” he explained in an angry voice, quite contrary to the physical evidence behind him, “and you are two weird hallucinatory limbs. It would be masturbation. Not sex. Masturbation!”

For a moment their was silence, and Kamui thought, for a brief instant, that he would be able to go back to studying again. Slowly, very slowly, his hand inched across the black . . . ground, snagging the edge of the book with his fingertips.

Both wings promptly snapped out and came around to enfold Kamui, smelling strongly of sweat and sex, throwing the teenager hopelessly off balance.

Tumbling to the white swirled black ground that looked the same as the sky and everything else, Kamui was kept from being completely in his wings’ grasp by the gear that still held his foot. He dangled there in silence, squirming and pushing, shoving the wings away from his face, spitting out sweat and feathers. “My life sucks.”