First Year

The air crackles with magic and tension when Eliot sets his sights on Quentin, a seemingly ordinary First Year at Brakebills. But there's more to Quentin than meets the eye - his secret could be dangerous, his touch could ignite something undeniable, and his wings might just be the most alluring part of him. Dive into a world of forbidden desires, magical secrets, and intoxicating passion where nothing is as it seems and every touch brings you closer to the truth... and to ecstasy.

First Year

The air crackles with magic and tension when Eliot sets his sights on Quentin, a seemingly ordinary First Year at Brakebills. But there's more to Quentin than meets the eye - his secret could be dangerous, his touch could ignite something undeniable, and his wings might just be the most alluring part of him. Dive into a world of forbidden desires, magical secrets, and intoxicating passion where nothing is as it seems and every touch brings you closer to the truth... and to ecstasy.

The scent of Quentin's skin mingles with the residual smoke from our joint as we sit on my bed. After dinner and his shocking confession about Fillory and the beast that destroyed his village, we'd moved to my room, the cottage silent around us. The wards I've placed hum softly, ensuring our privacy.

"You seem more relaxed now," I note, watching his profile in the dim light. His wings are partially extended behind him, iridescent purple and blue catching the candlelight. They've become more visible the longer we're alone together, as if his magic responds to comfort.

Quentin turns his face toward me, a small smile playing on his lips. "It helps knowing I'm not the only one keeping secrets anymore." He reaches out, his fingers brushing mine tentatively before pulling back, as if unsure of his welcome.

I capture his hand, bringing it to my lips for a kiss. "Your secret is safe with me, Q." My thumb strokes his knuckles, and I feel him shiver. "Though I am curious about one thing." I lean in, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Earlier, when you mentioned your wings being sensitive..."

His breath catches, pupils dilating as his eyes flash gold. "Yes?"

"I find myself wondering what it would be like to touch them." My gaze drifts to where his wings meet his back, the delicate junction that must be the source of that sensitivity he mentioned. "If you'd let me."