Work Text:
The oil lamp on Builderman’s desk flickered, casting long shadows across the wooden walls of his small room in the survivors’ cabin. Outside, the harsh winds of the wasteland howled, but inside, Builderman was entirely focused on his latest project. He adjusted his goggles and carefully soldered the final wire onto a sleek, handheld device. It was a specialized medical tool designed to close up deep, jagged cuts and stitch them instantly without causing the patient any pain.
In a world this dangerous, it was going to save a lot of lives. The heavy oak door creaked open, breaking his concentration. Shedletsky stepped into the room, looking exhausted. His massive, dark wings dragged slightly behind him, the feathers ruffled and unkempt. He closed the door behind him and leaned against it, looking at Builderman with a tired, heavy-lidded gaze.
"Hey," Shedletsky muttered, his voice slightly strained.
"Can you preen my wings? Please?" Builderman let out a soft sigh, setting his soldering iron down on its stand. He was tired himself, but Shedletsky was his boyfriend, and he could never say no to him.
"Alright," Builderman agreed, softening his expression.
"Sit down on the edge of the bed." Shedletsky complied, turning his back to Builderman and extending his wings slightly to give him room to work. Builderman climbed onto the mattress behind him and began running his fingers through the feathers. As he worked, he noticed just how messy they really were. There was dried dirt from the outer sectors, tiny wasteland bugs tangled in the down, and several loose, dead feathers that hadn't been properly shed. He worked patiently, picking out the debris and smoothing down the plumage with steady, rhythmic strokes.
After a few minutes of quiet cleaning, Builderman’s finger accidentally slipped too deep beneath a thick layer of feathers, his bare skin making direct contact with the sensitive, unprotected skin at the base of Shedletsky's wing.Shedletsky shuddered, a sharp gasp escaping his throat. The sudden contact triggered something deep within him. Shedletsky had been quietly fighting off a rising, overwhelming heat ever since the sun rose that morning, burying the sensation just to get through the day. But that single, direct touch broke all of his restraint. Shedletsky bit his lower lip hard, attempting to keep entirely quiet as his breath hitched. Builderman immediately noticed the sudden tension, the flush on Shedletsky's skin, and the way his shoulders trembled. Realizing exactly what his boyfriend needed, Builderman decided to help him through it.
Gently, he guided Shedletsky to shift, changing their positions on the bed so they were facing one another, wrapped in each other's arms. Builderman carefully adjusted both of their lower clothes to rid themselves of the barrier, pulling Shedletsky close against him. The room grew intensely warm as Builderman began to move against him, driving inside Shedletsky with a rhythmic, passionate pace. Shedletsky let out a soft groan, moving his own hips to the rhythmic, passionate pace. He leaned into the embrace, the overwhelming tension finally giving way to a deep sense of relief and comfort.
"Ahh—Builds, I-I'm coming~" Shed said as he let out a cry of pleasure.The two remained together in the quiet of the room, the flickering lamplight casting a warm glow over them as the exhaustion of the day finally began to fade. As their breathing eventually steadied, Shedletsky let out a long, shaky breath, resting his head against Builderman's shoulder.
"Thanks, Builds..." Shedletsky murmured softly. Builderman carefully pulled out of Shedletsky and offered a warm, gentle smile. He adjusted their clothes once more before brushing a stray piece of hair out of Shedletsky's face.
"No problem," Builderman replied softly.
"Now let's get you to the shower, you probably messed up my cover with the dirt in your wings." Shedletsky let out a tired but amused chuckle, nodding in agreement as Builderman helped him up, the heavy atmosphere of the wasteland completely forgotten within the safety of their room. Turning on the water, Builderman stepped under the spray to wash himself off before turning his attention back to Shedletsky.
With gentle patience, Builderman used his hands to wash away the remaining wasteland grime, carefully rinsing the heavy feathers of Shedletsky's wings until they were completely clean and free of dirt. Once they dried off and changed into clean clothes, the two crawled back into Builderman's bed, exhausted from the long day. Builderman pulled the blankets up over them, wrapping his arms around Shedletsky from behind and pulling him flush against his chest. Shedletsky let out a contented sigh, burying his face into the pillow.
"Night Builds," Shedletsky mumbled sleepily.
"Night," Builderman whispered back into the dark room.
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