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divinity within them breeding wings

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As with new Wine intoxicated both
They swim in mirth, and fancy that they feel
Divinity within them breeding wings
Wherewith to scorn the Earth
Her hand he seiz'd, and to a shady bank,
Thick overhead with verdant roof embow'r'd
He led her nothing loath; Flow'rs were the Couch,
Pansies, and Violets, and Asphodel
And Hyacinth, Earth's freshest softest lap
There they took their fill of Love and Love's disport
...Till dewy sleep
Oppress'd them, wearied with their amorous play.

Paradise Lost, 1008-1011, 1037-1045


They break apart, but didn't move far, keeping their foreheads pressed together. Their breath mingles, and Lyra can feel his heart, pounding hard and rapid along with hers.

"Will-" she says, "Will-" She's so close to him, she can't see all of his face at the same time, yet she wants to be closer, a part of him. He smells like soap and sweat.

WIll laughs shakily, from joy and wonder. "I love you-" he said, but breaks off and kisses her again, meeting her open mouth. Lyra can feel her arms and legs shaking, and it feels as though her heart is shaking too. She feels hot and excited, gasping, aching to be closer, closer. She feels a thousand things, only half she could name, the other half entirely new, terrifying and exciting.

Will presses closer into her, kissing messily, his warm hands holding her face, and it felt like the most natural thing in the world to lean back, tugging his shoulders with her, so they were lying together, his face dark against the blue sky. He puts out an arm to keep from crushing her, and she looks into his eyes.

Steady as always, but his cheeks are flushed, his brow beaded with sweat. "Lyra-"

"I want-" she says, but she doesn't finish. She doesn't know-she feels something deep, aching with hunger, almost painful in it's desire, but sweet too. She wants all of him, wants to be close to him like this always, the weight of his strong young body on hers, his smell, the roughness of his hands. She presses her palms to his skin under his shirt, feeling the smoothness of his skin.

Will takes a sharp breath in, and presses his face into her neck. She can feel the wetness of his mouth, and she skims her hands up along his broad back, digging in lightly with her fingernails. He pushes up against her, and she feels a pang, needle-hot. She wraps a leg around his.

He slides one hand up her shirt as well, reaching up to skim around one breast.

"Wait," she says, and pushes him up. She pulls her shirt over her head and tosses it decisively into the grass, before tugging at the hem of his own. He sheds it and looks at her, brown chest heaving, Lyra feels a secret thrill at his slim, sweat-slick body. They're on the edge of something- they've jumped. He laughs, a sort of gasping, half-laugh, one of joy and reckless terror.

"I dunno-" he says, "I dunno what we're doing." He's looking at her with an expression she hasn't seen before, wide-eyed and wanting.

"Me either, but-" she pauses, struggling for words. "I want something- I want you, Will, do you feel-"

"Yeah." he says. "Yeah." And he reaches for her again, leaning forward, and she opens her mouth as he kisses her again, hot, quick kisses, and she feels his teeth against her lips. He lies his hand on her breast, stroking the pad of his thumb across her nipple, and it sends a crackle of energy through her. She can feel every nerve ending.

She can feel his weight on her, and the strength in his body. He's moving, bearing down on her, and all she can think is that she wants, she wants, feeling the deep, savage ache in the pit of her stomach, radiating out through her body. His shoulders are hard and wiry, and she can see his breath working against his ribs, feel the pounding of his heart in time with hers, the pump of blood rushing in her body and his, the push-pull of their fast breath. Her hands rove over him, without sense or reason, only wanting to feel all of him, consume him.

Raw heat is building between her legs, and she grasps a hand down, before thinking better of it and taking Will's hand instead. He presses his hand, lightly, with curiosity, to the growing damp patch, and the shock of it makes her start.

She wriggles out of her underwear, and he presses his sun-browned hand again. She notices his hand is trembling, but his gray eyes are bright and lucid, with that intense focus he applies to everything.

He presses his hand, and then slides in, fingers slick. It's enough to make Lyra gasp. He looks up at her, eyes meeting.

"Try it again." she says.

He slips his fingers up a little more, and she feels herself pulse with electricity. "Will- Will-"

"Tell me if I hurt you-"

"You en't- Keep going, oh please-"

Experimentally, he moves his fingers. She arches her head back, wanting to feel nothing except Will.

She hears, and sees distantly, him fumbling with his belt, dark brows furrowed in concentration. When he pushes into her, she gasps a little, and he pauses, brow furrowed. "Are you alright?"

"Yes, Will, Will-" And she arches up into him, and he moves too, opening his mouth- "Oh-"

She can feel him inside of her, pushing up, up, and his lips and teeth and tongue on her neck. It's almost too much, and she can hear her own blood in her ears. Will heaves, and she gasps blindly, seeing nothing, only feeling the weight of Will's body and the press of his hips.

He makes no sound, only rhythmic gasps, but his efforts become faster, desperate, and he bites down on her collarbone, harder than maybe he meant to, clenching his fists and shuddering. Lyra feels something bursting inside of her, hot and rich and volatile. It explodes under the surface of her skin, and she cries out, heaving Will's name out against his head buried in the crook of her neck, thrusting up senselessly, All she can see is him, and the sweat slick on his skin, his mouth.

It leaves her, and Lyra breathes out.

The leaves of the silver trees flutter delicately above them. Will hoists himself up on his elbow.

"I love you." he says quietly. She nods, lifting a hand to brush away a lock of hair stuck to his forehead.

"Look!" says Will.

Her hand is wreathed in glinting gold particles, swimming like disturbed silt in water. He sits up, and she can see it shining over both of their bodies.

"It's Dust." she says.

"Must be."

"But I never seen it like this."

He moves his hand back and forth, watching the gold Dust twine around his fingers. It gilds his face, his brows and eyelashes, and she watches it drift. It's disappearing already, drifting up to the sky. They watch it go, swirling up in invisible currents.

Will lies down next to her. "We ought to wash- in the stream down there."

She curls closer to him, placing a lazy hand on his chest. "Mm."

His eyes are already closing. She presses a soft kiss to his forehead, and his eyes flutter open once before closing again.

The air is sun-warm and perfectly still, and the whole world is silent, Will and Lyra the only two living things. Above them, Dust swirls, a great coursing current across the sky. She watches it with one half-opened eye, before dropping her golden head next to Will's brown one and falling asleep.