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It’s an odd feeling, nothing like Pero has ever experienced before.
Your lips are surprisingly soft.
Warm.
Pillowy.
A little dry, but not chapped or unpleasant in any way. Just unusual. He is still trying to get his bearings when you move again, sending another wave through him. His muscles tighten involuntarily as you push firm against him, your mouth massaging his gently, coaxing his pressed lips open with tiny movements.
He can taste oranges, something sweet and tangy and his mind tries to chase all the notes to figure them out. Pero feels your body, all its contours and dips, how you fit against him. He can scent pine and field you must’ve been working on earlier. And then he’s back to your taste, this time something tart finding a way to tease his palette. It’s overwhelming, all his nerve endings are on fire.
In order to try and center himself, he focuses on the feel of your mouth and how it’s pressed to him. It actually feels nice but a little confusing. After the first contact, it feels like your lips have softened further, and come more pliant and sweet. He likes the way your lips fit against him, how you hum softly at the contact. When your tongue peeks out again to lick his lower lip, he presses his lips tighter together, uncertain of the continued wetness of someone else’s tongue right there. It’s peculiar.
Is he supposed to do something, Pero wonders, trying to keep up with the multitude of emotions crackling like embers inside him. He feels almost lost at sea, unable to move or respond. He’s never felt anything like this before. Should he mimic your movements? But how? He doesn’t know how. He’s never done anything like this before! And even if he did, Pero is frozen all over. You’ve woven a spell over his body and he cannot move. He just stands there, dumbstruck.
Suddenly you pull away and his eyes finally blink, his brain still working its way through the myriad of things he feels right now. You watch him in silence before speaking, your eyes both unsure and curious. Maybe even a little sad.
“Pero?”
Your hesitant whisper is like a lightning bolt to his fried mind and he finally finds himself. Pero wraps a strong arm around your waist, halting your escape as it begins with your muscles twitching. He peers into your eyes, willing you to see that he doesn’t want you to move, doesn’t want you to run. Pero needs you here with him while he comes to terms with what just happened. And to do that, he has to stay connected to you.
“Si?” His voice is equally quiet, unwilling to break the spell.
“Was that… was that okay?”
The way you sound, dejected and shy, is far from what he felt from your lips just before. He hates it immediately and tightens his hold on you further. Even if he didn’t understand it, didn’t catch all the nuances, and most likely fucked it all up, Pero never wants you to feel like this around him. As unaware of human interactions as he is, he can’t help but want to be more for you.
“Si.” He's not lying, per se, it was okay. Even if he didn’t know how to comprehend what transpired between you and why his lips still tingle even when you no longer touch, it was okay. More than okay really.
“It’s something…” He tries to explain, cursing inwardly at the rapid heat spreading in his neck. Idiota, Pero berates himself and his inability to form words.
You wait for him patiently, something Pero has never felt he’s worthy of. So he tries again, struggles past his own embarrassment to form the words to soothe you. “It’s just that I’ve never…” he trails off again, uncertain if he should reveal this part of himself to you. Will it make you see him weak if he tells you this?
He doesn’t have to say it though. Understanding dawns on your face, your features transforming into something even more kind, gentle, and calm. Your hand finds his cheek, warmth spreading through his bones as smooth fingers trail up his temple and brush away an errant strand of hair. A soft smile dances on your lips - their ghost still lingering on him - and your eyes twinkle a little in the corners.
“It was your first kiss?”
He lets out a gruff huff and barely hides the sarcastic roll of his eyes at your question. How ever could you tell? Was it the way he resembled a stone statue more than a man confident in his skill with a partner? Or was it how he surely looked like a scared calf lost from its mother when you stepped into his space and pressed those magical lips to his? Or maybe it was the way his whole body sang an unknown song, but only in the wrong language. Surely none of these things clued you in.
He was merely 11 summers old when his family was taken from him and his only way of surviving was to become whatever he needed to be for his next meal, his next sleep, and his next day. Pero had no time for first crushes or stolen kisses in the orchard when he was whisked into the battlefield, one fight after the other. He survived, working his way from the gutter to glory, but it was at the cost of his innocence and his freedom to do as he wished deep inside.
And it wasn’t like the brothels he found himself in were keen on the art of romancing someone. Sure, he got his cock wet and his needs met, but rarely he even spoke to the people he encountered. Transactions, where money and bodily fluids swapped places, were no time for delays. He was good with the lower half of his body and he didn’t leave unsatisfied lovers in his wake. That was enough.
But now, now when there is the incessant need inside him, a monster roaring at him to claim your lips on him, now Pero knows it wasn’t enough. This, this is what he has been missing, this is something he has been waiting for, even if he didn’t know it at the time.
This feels like his entire world has shifted on its axis and he’s finally able to see clearly. He feels somehow … bigger. More full. It hits him like a surprise attack on the head.
This feels like something that could blossom into love.
It should scare him, but that’s the last thing Pero feels. He feels the same high he felt when William suggested they join the group in search of black powder. He feels full of energy, full of hope and excitement. He feels the same greed as he did them. He’s had his first taste, he will never rest until he’s had that taste again and again and again. Until his dying breath, he will want your kiss.
He is also a possessive bastard, Pero has no qualms over admitting that. Now that you’ve gifted this miracle to him, he shall not allow anyone to touch your lips and sample that sweet tangy taste ever again. Pero’s eyes turn darker over the idea and he splays his hand wide, capturing as much of your back as he can, allowing his carnal side to peek through. Your answering gasp pleases him greatly and he finds his composure and cockiness again.
“Si, amor. It was my first. But it won’t be my last, not when I’ve gotten this from you. If I can, will you teach me more?” He murmurs, inching closer so your noses touch and you can share the same air.
He waits for your answer with bated breath, equal parts nervous and excited. He still has no clue what to do, but if you allow him this, he will not remain frozen this time. He will learn how to please you, how to possess you, and how to kiss you in a way that leaves you just as breathless as he feels.
Your eyes track his tiniest movements and just when Pero feels like he can’t take it any longer, you close the final distance and he’s back in your embrace, in your kiss.
And it’s true what they say, he muses as he fumbles to find the right rhythm. Practice does make everything perfect and Pero is nothing if not persistent in this quest.