Flamboyance

Author's note: a couple of content warnings are in order here. One: this is a gay male story. Two: this is a nonhuman story; all the characters are birds. And not your anthropomorphised human-shaped furry-style birds, these are bird-shaped birds with bird anatomy.

If you're in the small minority who haven't run for the hills after reading that... enjoy!

* * *

I allowed myself a small squawk of triumph as I landed. Waking up so early had been worth it. I'd just claimed one of the best perches on the whole seafront. It had an eye-catching position on a slight promontory, overlooking a busy section of the promenade. And best of all, there was only one other perch on this corner - and that currently empty - meaning I shouldn't have too much competition for attention.

This wasn't going to be a repeat of last year. Last year I'd arrived late - much too late - and had been forced to settle for a fourth-rate perch at the unpopular north end of the promenade, almost hidden from sight behind a large thorny bush. I hadn't mated with a single female that year.

I looked myself over and chirped in embarrassment. The early start and hurried flight hadn't left time for grooming and there were feathers sticking out at odd angles all over the place. Prime location or not, I wasn't going to woo anyone in this state. I began the slow, methodical process of putting myself in order, preening my feathers into their proper arrangement with my beak.

"Ahem."

I looked up. A female, staring at me quizzically. I was, at that moment, in a particularly unflattering position, bent round upon myself almost beak-to-bum to preen my tail feathers. I straightened so quickly I nearly unbalanced myself.

"Ah... sorry about that," I said. "I wasn't expecting anyone so early."

"What can I say? The early bird catches the stud."

Stud? I shifted nervously from foot to foot. "My name's Stud. No!!! Seppiae! My name's Seppiae!" I felt my neck feathers fluff up in embarrassment.

"Well then Stud, or Seppiae, or whatever your name is, why don't you show me what you've got?"

"Why not? Here I go..."

I spread my wings and began.

The mating display is a freeform art, but the aim is - in essence - to show off your natural assets and try to hypnotise the female with your beauty. I'd practised hundreds of times in front of a mirror, and I was determined not to make a muddle of it now. I began very traditionally, weaving my body from side to side and letting my wings waft up and down. My voice warbled through a serenade I dearly hoped sounded lyrical and enticing, but half feared actually sounded reedy and confused.

I was horribly conscious of my unfinished grooming, but nevertheless I was optimistic. My plumage had come out well this year. Just a few months back I'd been the same nondescript brown as any female, but that had all changed now. Breeding plumage came in many shades, but mine was green. My wingtips were green. My eyestripe was green. True, my back remained a stubborn brown, but my breast and throat were a pleasing pistachio shade. It was my tail feathers, however, that were my foremost pride. They were a deep, dark green shot through with patches and swirls as bright as spring leaves in sunshine, producing a most magnificent display when fanned out and wiggled.

Turning my tail on her, I fanned out and wiggled. They were - I was almost certain - irresistibly seductive little wiggles. Once I felt I'd wiggled enough to get any female salivating, I spun back seaward to claim my admirer.

She was walking away down the promenade, eyeing up another male a few perches down.

I drooped. Was it my incomplete grooming? My singing? My dancing? Perhaps there was something wrong with my plumage? Was it my wings? My tail? My crest?

My crest! Belatedly, I remembered to raise the tall crest of emerald feathers on my head. I couldn't believe I'd forgotten to raise my crest. No wonder she hadn't been interested!

I'd just about finished my grooming when a flurry of wings announced an arrival on the corner's other perch.

"Well met, neighbour," said a smooth male voice.

"Well met," I said before turning to regard my new competitor.

I squawked in dismay. He was gorgeous.

His feathers were vivid orange and red. Entirely orange and red, without even a hint of brown, giving him more the appearance of a flame than a living thing. And he was perfect. Not a single ruffled feather anywhere; his shape sleek and streamlined; his beak a polished alabaster curve.

He bowed and spread one wing, flashing scarlet feathers. "Allow me to introduce myself. Quiriprotelytix."

I wilted a little further. Even his name had mine outclassed.

"Seppiae," I replied. "Quiriprotelytix, did you say? That's quite a beakful."

"Isn't it, though? Do call me Quiri, if you prefer. Either will sound just an sweet to me in your melodic voice."

"Quiri it is, then." I bowed back, feeling a little more comfortable now that my name was no longer being overshadowed. "Best of luck in the mating, Quiri," I said without meaning it.

"Oh, I just know it's going to be a good year for me. I'm eyeing someone up already." His sharp black eyes grazed over me. "I think you could be in for a good year too, Sep."

I was beginning to doubt that very much.

* * *

Every good perch was occupied now by males of all hues and shades, lining the edge of the sandy bay like gaudy sequins sewn into the hem of a rippling brown sheet. Females passed up and down the grey stone promenade, eyes sliding greedily from one male to the next. Snatches of warbling song glided through the air now from my left, now from my right. A flurry of wings a little down the shore and a female flew up with a smug-looking male close on her tail, heading for the privacy of the woods behind me. A few minutes later I heard squawks and moans of pleasure spilling through the trees. Other couples, less modest in their passion, had dotted themselves across the broad sands of the bay, dots of flashing colour in that drab, watery landscape.

Oh, how I longed to be one of those lucky ones.

But things were going badly. Quiri was stealing the attention of every female who passed by. I thought my own plumage quite fine, but placed next to Quiri I looked positively drab. We both perched with our crests raised, our wings slightly unfolded to give just a cheeky hint of the bright colour within. But his wings were so much brighter, and his crest taller, and everything about him so much more dazzling, that of course the females all homed straight for him like bees to a flower, barely giving me a second glance as they buzzed around him.

One thing gave me some comfort: his technique was far from perfect. His stance, for instance, wasn't quite right: he should have been facing straight forwards to face the passing females, but instead he was perched at a bit of an angle so that only I got a full view of his best side. And everyone knew it was important to make eye contact with females, but Quiri seemed to spend more time watching me than looking at our prospective mates. He didn't even bother to display when asked, just shook his head politely at the many, many requests.

Despite this appallingly amateurish behaviour, he was still putting me in the shade. I considered relocating, but all the good perches had gone already, with a flock of males circling overhead waiting to pounce on any freshly-unoccupied spot.

Damn Quiri and his red feathers! Of course the females were drooling over him. Hell, I was male and I could barely keep my eyes off him. But... maybe all wasn't what it seemed?

"Hey Quiri," I said at a quiet moment, "is that plumage natural?"

"Every feather just as Nature has blessed me."

"I don't believe you."

He regarded me with those deep black eyes and tilted his head in question. "No?"

"Nobody has plumage like that. You must have dyed it."

"I promise you I haven't."

"Of course you have. I've got you figured out. That's why you're not displaying. If you started shaking yourself about, you'd splatter everyone with red and orange dye, and there goes the illusion. Or are there brown patches where you couldn't reach under your wings?"

In answer, Quiri unfolded one wing for me, revealing untainted orange and red feathers, if anything more dazzling than the rest. He flapped the wing a few times. No dye splattered out.

"An elegant theory Sep, but wrong. I'm just as you see me."

"I still think it's dyed. It's a nice job, but it has to be fake."

"Do take a closer look if you fancy it."

He offered the wing for inspection. I hopped off my perch - keeping a close eye on it in case any opportunist started towards it - and approached. Pointedly ignored the proffered wing I chose a different patch to inspect, a suspiciously scarlet band on his nape where most males had brown feathers even during breeding season. He bent down obligingly and I nuzzled my beak into those feathers, sniffing. They had an ordinary, unremarkable, distinctly male scent, and nothing else. I stuck out my tongue to lick one plume. It tasted like feather. It remained scarlet.

"...These are natural."

"Every single feather." He shook himself, ruffling his plumage. "But I've no objections if you want to nose that beak of yours wherever you like, if you want to make sure."

"No, I believe you now."

I returned to my perch. Nuzzling my beak against his neck had left me with an... odd sort of feeling.

"So why aren't you displaying? You could have mated three times already today, if you'd wanted to."

"Oh, I'm waiting for someone really special to ask me."

I puzzled over that. Some of the females he'd turned down had been desperately beautiful. Almost as beautiful as he was, I found myself thinking, and then puzzled over that thought too.

"But why aren't you displaying, Sep?"

"Why aren't I displaying?" My crest twitched in irritation. "I'm not displaying because no-one's interested. No-one's interested because the most stupidly handsome male in the whole province is perched right next to me. Why would anyone be interested in me when you're right there?"

He gave me a careful look. "Sep, did you just call me the most handsome male in the province?"

"Of course you are! Just look at you!"

He glanced casually over his vibrant plumage. "Well, perhaps I am the handsomest. But you're the prettiest."

"I... what?"

"And I know at least one person who's very interested in you."

"Oh really? And who might that be?"

But before he could answer we were interrupted by a female voice. "Oh, you are just sumptuous. You're coming with me to make an egg. Right now."

I turned to her, vaguely hoping this comment had been directed at me, but of course it wasn't. Her eyes were feasting on Quiri. She was a particularly attractive specimen, with sparkling intelligence in her eyes and wonderfully fluffy, mottled plumage down her breast. So I was surprised and slightly peeved when Quiri once again turned her down.

"A most flattering offer, my lady, but my attentions are currently engaged elsewhere. Perhaps, however, you'd consider my companion Seppiae here for this honour instead, who is as amiable and eligible a male as you're ever likely to meet?"

She turned her attentions to me, looking uncertain. Her eyes raked through my plumage.

"Hmm. I don't know. He's not bad, I guess." She shrugged her wings. "Alright then Seppiae, let's have it. Dance for me."

I spread my wings and performed my mating display again. I felt particularly self-conscious with Quiri observing me as well, giving me the feeling I was displaying to two instead of just one. But I delivered a solid performance with no major mistakes, and a better-than-usual attempt at song. I remembered to keep my crest raised. And after I'd wiggled my tail feathers at her and turned back round, she was still there.

"Not bad. Not too bad." She looked at me thoughtfully. My heart raced. "But... no. I can do better." She bowed to both of us. "Best of luck, gentlemen." And she was gone.

I stared discontentedly at the ground. "I suppose you found that rather amusing.".

"Amusing? No. I'm genuinely disappointed for you. She clearly has deplorably poor taste. But, I'm also quite relieved."

"Relieved?" I glared at him.

"Well I wouldn't want to lose your very pleasant company."

"Hmm. Right."

"If it helps, I thought your mating display was rather cute."

"Cute?!" I bristled. "It's not supposed to be cute."

"Well that's where you're going wrong then. You are cute. Cute as a bug on a bush."

"But I don't want to be cute. I want to be handsome and virile."

"Oh, there's nothing wrong with being cute. Lots of females like cute. I like cute. You'll have better luck if you stop trying to fluff yourself up as big and masculine and just let your cuteness blossom."

"And how do I do that?"

"Well, take that mating display of yours. Very cute. But that tail wiggle at the end..."

"That's the best bit!"

"I couldn't agree more. But it could be even better."

"How?"

"Show it to me, and I'll talk you through it? I only got a side view last time."

It felt odd to face my rump towards another male and fan my tail feathers, odd to allow him a clear view of my cloaca. Odder still to make myself perform the same wiggling seductive dance that was usually reserved for female eyes.

"Mmm, that is a treat for the eyes. But maybe... stop wiggling around like that?"

I stopped wiggling.

"Sep, has anyone ever told you that the pattern of colour on your tail feathers looks like a deep, rich forest with sunlight dappling through the canopy?"

"It... it does?"

"It does. And the effect would be all the better if instead of wiggling, you moved like a forest."

"Moved like a forest? What are you talking about?"

"Think of how a forest moves. It sways. It rustles. Sway for me, Sep. Rustle for me."

"Like this?"

"That's better. But slower." I felt a wingtip resting on my rump, guiding me. "Like this. Sway. That's it. Nice, gentle, soothing motions. Perfect. Looking at you now, I can imagine I'm in a green and pleasant woodland. It calms the soul. Draws the eye in, nice and welcoming, towards the pink spot in the centre. Very cute."

I swallowed, nervously. Of course I wanted to draw the female eye towards my vent, but I wasn't sure I wanted him ogling me there. Although, there was a strange tingling excitement to know he was looking right at my privatemost point.

"Have you seen enough now?" I asked.

"Heavens no, I could watch this for hours."

I decided enough was enough, and turned back to face him.

"How did you become such an expert on mating displays anyway?"

He shrugged in false modesty. "Just a natural talent."

"Oh really?"

"Really. Every single person who's seen my mating display has mated with me. I've never had even one rejection."

I eyed his plumage again, and could believe it. But I wasn't going to admit I believed it. "Unlikely! But I think I see now why you're not displaying to any females. You're no good at it, are you? Plenty to say about other people's displays but hopeless at your own, is that it?"

His eyes met mine, a challenge in his gaze. "Would you like to see my mating display, Sep?"

"I think I would, yes."

His crest perked up. "Finally! I thought you'd never ask!"

He spread his wings out full, and for a moment he stood perfectly still. His vivid red flight feathers framed the warm orange of his breast nicely. When he began to move it was in quick, flashing motions. If my own plumage resembled a forest then his certainly resembled a flame, and he moved like one too. His wings darted up and down unpredictably, one moment a low and crackling blanket of fire close to the ground, the next blazing up into the air in an inferno. His voice was a hot, bright crackle and whistle that soared and leapt in time with his wings, the sound melting through me and warming something inside. His whole body leapt, twisted and danced; flickering, wild and all-consuming; except for his head which stayed perfectly motionless. His black eyes like smouldering coals burned into my own.

It was hypnotic. I couldn't have looked away if I'd wanted to. It was only gradually that I realised the dance was over, that he was still once more, regarding me inquisitively.

"Well? What do you think?"

"That was..." I struggled for the right word. "That was hot. Really, really hot. I can see why you've never been turned down. Damn it, I'm male and I almost want to mate with you."

"Almost?!" He looked aghast. "I see I have to try even harder." And he began to move again.

It was a different dance this time. Very different. Where the first had been fast and flickering, this was slow and smouldering. His wings and body rippled and sinuated in subtle but suggestively sexual motions. Turning his left flank to me, he let his tail feathers fan out wide. They were brightest of flaming red at the tips, changing to fiery orange further in, finally fading to hot yellow and incandescent white nearest to his rump. He spun about 180 degrees, quickly, so quickly that I caught only the briefest flash of pink as his tail display streaked past my eyes. He swung his tail back the other way, and I watched with surprising eagerness for that cheeky glimpse of pink. Now at last he let his rump face towards me and linger, his tail feathers spread wide in every direction. He wiggled them in a shimmering motion, and my eyes were drawn irresistibly in through those concentric circles, first of red, and within that orange, and within that yellow, and within that white, and within that the stems of his quills circling his juicy pink cloaca like a crown.

The display over, he turned to face me once more. "How about now, Sep?"

"Quiri, I..." I struggled to find the words to describe the hot, sticky need his display had aroused. A need I'd never before felt for another male, but that burned just as bright as any other. There was no point denying it, or evading what must happen next. "Let's go have sex."

* * *

We settled in the sandy mud of the bay, just above the waterline. My talons sank in with a soft squelch. We'd flown there by a most circuitous route, chasing each other through the air and nipping at each other's tails, flashing and flirting as we flew in joyful interlocking spirals.

Quiri draped one wing over my back, rubbing his warm flank against mine. The curve of his beak nuzzled my neck while his tail twitched teasingly against my own. The promenade and the world beyond seemed impossibly remote. The only sounds were the whoosh and tinkle of waves on the sand and the slide and rustle of feather on feather.

"Did I ever tell you how cute you are, Sep?" I felt his words tickle the feathers on my throat.

"You did. Repeatedly."

"Good. Let me say it one more time, just to be sure. You're cute, Sep."

"Thanks. Did I ever tell you you're gorgeous?"

"You didn't! But better late than never." He rubbed his beak against mine.

"You're gorgeous, Quiri."

"We're both gorgeous." He stuck out his tongue to run along the underside of my beak."

"So... what happens next?"

He moved his beak away and questioned me with his eyes. "Have you never done this before, Sep?"

"Only with females."

"Oh, that's alright then, you already know what you're doing. Just pretend I'm female."

"I don't want to pretend you're anyone except yourself."