A Shadow of Wings

by Gayle, Linda

  They were having a laugh at his expense, but it was good-natured. He had to chuckle at himself. “Well, at least now I can say I tried it,” he said to Dylan, who cupped his chin in his hand and kissed him lightly.

  Cora nudged his shoulder and handed him the joint. Again? He supposed this was how it was done. This time it went better, and the time after that, and then he found himself swapping it back and forth with Cora while Joey entertained them.

  After about the fifth or sixth or who knew how many songs, he pointed at Joey, whose fingers were positively magic on the strings. He’d never heard the like. Cora sang along with him on some of the tunes, but Cam liked it best when he spun out the complicated riffs.

  “He’s really good,” he said to Dylan. “Like, seriously talented.” Somehow, Cam had slumped down farther and farther into the deep couch cushions, and now Dylan lay back against him, his warm, comfortable body cuddled against his side.

  “And you’re really buzzed, dude.” Dylan ran his hand up and down Cam’s thigh. “Feeling okay?”

  “Mm-hm.” Kind of light and dizzy and happier than he’d been in a long, long time. Than ever.

  “That’s good. That’s what I like to hear.”

  “What?”

  “That you’re happy.” Dylan smiled that beautiful smile.

  “Did I say that out loud?”

  “Yes, you did.”

  Across the room, sitting at Joey’s feet, Cora swung the second wine bottle back and forth. “All gone, guys. Should I break out another one?”

  “Nah, I think we better get going. It’s getting late.”

  “What about Gertie?” Cam managed.

  “I think she’s gonna be okay here.”

  Sure enough, the pit bull, who had taken to the kids like…like a duck to water, Cam thought, putting words together in his head like building blocks, lay on a blanket on the floor, on her back asleep with her legs up in the air.

  “Shameless girl,” Cam muttered, then burst out laughing. He had no idea why that was so funny. It just was.

  “Yeah, I think that’s our cue.” Dylan shuffled upright but took Cam’s chin between his fingers and kissed his lips. Even though it went right to his cock, Cam couldn’t stop giggling. “Time for some fresh air for this one,” Dylan said with a roll of his eyes.

  Joey stood up, leaning his guitar against the wall and helping Cora up, who kept smiling at Cam, and even that was funny. If she only knew what she was smiling at. Cam thought of her perceptive little son screaming mawnster and nearly choked himself laughing.

  “He is too cute,” she said, giving Dylan a hug. “You hang on to him. And bring him back. We’re having a little cookout on Sunday for Hannah’s birthday. You’re both welcome to come.”

  “We’ll see,” Dylan said with a lift of his brow. He bumped fists with Joey, then gripped his forearm and pulled him in for a quick embrace and back slap. “Thanks for getting my boyfriend blitzed, man.”

  “No problem, dude.”

  “You sure you’re okay with the dog?”

  Cora glanced over at Gertie. “I love her, and the kids did fine with her. Can we change her name, though?” she asked with an apologetic twist of her lips.

  “She’s your dog now. You do whatever you want. Just be good to her.”

  “You know we will,” Joey said. He and Dylan walked to the door, which Cam supposed meant he should get up. Oh, he was up. When did that happen? Joey hugged him too, and Cora, and he thought, his heart overflowing with the milk of mawnster kindness, that he’d never met such wonderful people in his entire life.

  Cora patted Cam on the cheek. “Nice meeting you, handsome. Keep an eye on this guy.” She lightly punched Dylan’s shoulder.

  “It was so good to meet you too.” Cam took her hands in his and kissed the backs of them. “So good. Thank you so much. I can’t thank you enough. For everything.”

  Dylan got between them and herded him out the door. “Come on, loverboy. You need some air.”

  The smoke practically rolled out the door with them into the street before Joey waved good-bye and closed the door behind them, and they stood alone in the very quiet evening.

  “Deep breath in.” Dylan inhaled, lifting his hand in front of his chest, and Cam followed him. “And out.” Cam exhaled, and felt dizzy, and Dylan held him by the elbow until he steadied.

  “Am I going to feel sick in the morning?” he asked as he began to truly appreciate how high he was.

  “Probably not. I mean, you chugged your fair share of wine, but that ain’t nothing. C’mon, you, let’s walk it off.”

  With a little stagger in his step, Cam walked beside him, hands in pockets. “You’re so lucky to have such nice friends.”

  “They are nice. I’m glad they liked Gertie.”

  “They’re going to change her name, though.” That made him unspeakably sad, his emotions all wacky.

  “As long as they feed her and love her, I don’t care.”

  “But we named her.”

  “We can name something else. That tree.” He pointed to one of the trees that grew out of the sidewalk, surrounded by a low black wrought-iron fence. “That tree is Gertie the Second.”

  “You can’t name a tree Gertie. Don’t be daft.”

  “Daft.” He chuckled. “You’re daft.”

  “You know, I think I am.” Another fit of giggles surface but then faded, and he looked at Dylan, at the unkempt hair and scruffy chin with a charming dent in the center and the straight, strong nose. An almost painful rush of some foreign emotion welled in him. “You’re nice too.”

  “Nah. Appearances deceive, my friend.” Scuffing along with his hands in the pockets of his hoody, Dylan seemed withdrawn. Cam stopped him with a hand on his arm, then pressed his spread fingers to his own chest.

  “I know all about appearances. And deception.” He felt his jaw working and the words coming up his throat, the truth wanting to claw its way out, and he barely swallowed them back. “Nobody’s really who they…what they look like, are they?”

  They started walking again, slowly. Truly, the streets were empty, and Cam began to wonder what time it was. Dylan said, “Not too many. We all got our dark secrets, I guess.”

  “What are yours?”

  “If I told you—”

  “They wouldn’t be secret.” Cam smirked. And then sorrow draped him again. How sad it was that the world had to work that way. “The brothers teach us that at one time, a long time ago, it wasn’t like that. That man and animals shared one mind and one soul, and it wasn’t until the fall in the Garden of Eden that we were divided from one another and broken into separate souls.”

  “Is that right?” Dylan nudged Cam’s left hand out of his pocket and twined his fingers loosely through Cam’s.

  “Yes. And at that time, there wasn’t any judgment. Or hatred, or warfare. Or secrets. Just harmony. They say, someday, we’ll have that again.” His brows furrowed. “But they don’t know when. We just have to keep waiting, and hoping. It’s a long time to wait. It’s why we all feel lonely. And separate.”

  Dylan’s thumb stroked over the back of his hand. “Yeah, but we still got each other, right?”

  Cam nodded, then with his free hand reached under glasses to wipe his eyes. “Now I feel like crying. Is this normal?”

  “Normal’s relative. Problem is, I think you’ve been keeping so much down for so long, now you gave it an outlet, it all wants to come out.”

  He sniffed. “Mm. Maybe.”

  “Come here, baby.” Dylan stopped and pulled Cam against him, into his warm embrace, rocking him a little, kissing the side of his neck softly, as if they were the last two living creatures in the world. Cam clutched him hard. All this emotion, churning inside. He didn’t think he liked it. Was this what it was to be human, all the time battling with this inner turmoil?

  “Everything’s gonna be fine,” Dylan murmured, and Cam believed him, because in his arms, it could only be so. He pressed his face against the ph
oenix tattoo on Dylan’s neck and breathed him in, never wanting to let go, never wanting to be that other thing he was.

  He drew back so they could kiss. He liked the hard, aggressive kisses, but these, oh, sweet and lingering and full of feeling, these were the ones he’d die for. Like the songs said, like every kiss was a song. Oh shit yes, he was still high. He was getting maudlin and giggly at the most inappropriate moment.

  Fortunately, Dylan seemed to understand. He stroked the side of Cam’s face and said, “I wanna show you something. My favorite part of the city, and this time of night, it’s really beautiful because there ain’t no people around to spoil it.”

  He followed at his side, hand in hand with him. “What time is it, anyhow?”

  “I don’t know. One or two?”

  Cam pulled out his cell phone. “Two it is. I had no idea.”

  “Time flies.” He led Cam down what looked like a linear trail, a bike path that ran along the water, then farther until they reached a stone wall. Beyond that, the Housatonic River flowed, wide and flat in the moonlight. Even farther on, Cam could see boats faintly aglow in the harbor and occasional traffic lights on the other side.

  Dylan swung his legs over the wall and patted the spot beside him. Cam followed, sitting close so their body heat would keep them warm and so Dylan could put his hand on Cam’s thigh and lean against him. For as long as he lived, he’d never forget this night, or even this moment.

  “Nice view, yeah?” Dylan tightened his hand on Cam’s thigh and spoke softly, as if he’d break the spell if he said anything too loud.

  Cam gazed out at the water. “Beautiful.”

  “You could try taking off your glasses now. I mean, it’s night, ain’t nobody around to see, and you’d get a better look.”

  Cam lifted his hand but hesitated. Idiot. Dylan reached up and took the shades off, then stuck them on the top of his own head. “See? Nothing awful happened.”

  Cam’s whole body sagged. “I hate that I have to wear them,” he admitted quietly.

  “Not around me you don’t. I been thinking about it, and the only time it bothered me was when you were angry. Other than that, I liked looking in your eyes. I don’t want you to worry about it, okay? I don’t want any bad mojo between us, no regrets.”

  Cam said nothing, but Dylan wasn’t going to let him retreat again. “Look at me. C’mon.” With his fingertips, he turned Cam’s head, and in truth, because it was so dark, he could just about see Cam’s downturned eyes catching the faint light from the streetlamp a few yards behind them. A shudder of memory from the power of that gaze did skid down his spine, but only for a second before he said, “When I looked in your eyes before, I felt great. Peaceful. It was nice.”

  “Really?” Cam worried one side of his lower lip.

  “For sure. Now look at me.”

  Finally, Cam did. Prickles of gooseflesh broke out all over Dylan’s body as if he’d gone suddenly from hot to cold, but nothing worse happened, and he let himself breathe again. Hadn’t even known he’d been holding his breath. Then that warmth oozed through him. Despite the darkness, he felt the magic of Cam’s gaze, and fuck all if he didn’t like it. Without blinking, he leaned in and kissed Cam’s lips.

  A stuttering exhale escaped Cam. “I don’t know how you can do that,” he whispered against Dylan’s mouth. Then he drew back a few inches. “It shouldn’t be possible. I’ve been told, taught…”

  Dylan touched Cam’s lips, silencing him. “Maybe you been taught wrong. You said yourself they didn’t want you getting involved with no one. What better way to scare you off than telling you it was dangerous?”

  “It’s not that. I’ve tried before, and it never worked. I mean…I’m not…natural.”

  As if that explained everything. Maybe, hopefully, that was the wine talking, but it pissed Dylan off, telling a kid they weren’t natural. He’d heard that line himself from his stupid stepfather. “They teach you that too? That you’re some kind of freak ’cause of your eyes? And your…your wings or whatever?” He ran his hand up Cam’s back as if he could feel them, which he couldn’t.

  Cam startled. “You can’t see them now, can you?”

  So, they were wings. Da fuck… But Dylan stayed calm and shook his head. “No, nothing. Not since that one time.” He rubbed his hand in circles over Cam’s tense back. The kid was nervous and stiff. Dylan murmured, “Show me ’em.”

  A sharp inhale and Cam pulled away. Before Dylan could press, though, because he was sure Cam would refuse, Cam looked out toward the river again and yeah, there, fuck, a swirl of darkness materialized behind his shoulders.

  Awestruck, Dylan floated his hand through the oily dark shapes but felt nothing. “They’re not there. Not really.”

  “It’s just a shadow. An illusion.”

  “I see ’em better if I don’t look right at ’em. Yeah, like… Shit, they’re pretty.”

  Cam snorted and turned to glance at him. “I’m sure you’re the first to think so.”

  They disappeared like smoke, and Cam rubbed his forehead with the heel of his palm, his expression troubled. Would he have showed them if he hadn’t been a little buzzed? Maybe not. Dylan asked, “So, I gotta ask, can you fly?”

  “No. They’re useless, like the rest of me.”

  “Aw, don’t be a sad mawnster,” Dylan teased, causing Cam to twist his eyebrows.

  “Are you surely joking about this? About me being a freak?”

  “Ah, stop feeling sorry for yourself. So you’re some kind of half-baked angel. Who cares?”

  “I told you, I’m not an angel.”

  “Demon?” He crossed his fingers the answer was—

  “No.” Thank fuck. Swinging his legs, Cam shook his head. “Not even a demon.”

  “Don’t tell me…” Dylan snapped his fingers. “Unicorn!”

  Despite his gloomy mood, Cam flicked a smile. “Hardly.”

  “Pegasus?”

  “Don’t be daft.”

  Dylan ran back through his memories of mythical animals and couldn’t think of many. He hadn’t paid much attention in school. “A flyin’ lion, like that one in Rudolph.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but no.”

  Though Cam was still smiling, he didn’t offer up the answer, and Dylan was having too good a time to ask him outright. His identity was becoming some kind of secret game between them, like Rumplestiltskin’s name, and Dylan was up for going along with it.

  “Mothra,” he guessed. When Cam said he didn’t know what that was, Dylan said, “Giant moth, you know? Two creepy little Japanese girls ride around with it?”

  “Do you see any creepy girls with me?”

  He made a show of looking behind Cam. “Guess not. Shoot. Hmm… A dragon? Like Bruce Lee?”

  Something about dragons made Cam sad, and he said, “I wish. And what are you talking about? Bruce Lee wasn’t a dragon.”

  “Enter the Dragon, ain’t you never seen that movie?”

  Cam slid him a withering gaze, then started to speak.

  Dylan put his hand over Cam’s mouth. “Shush. I don’t wanna know.”

  He dropped his hand so Cam could say, “But…why?”

  “’Cause you really don’t want to say. I can tell.” He turned closer into Cam’s side and drew his palm over Cam’s thigh. “Then you’d have to live with knowing you told someone your secret identity, and every time you were with your brother, you’d be worried about it. That’s why superheroes don’t tell no one who they really are. It’s easier that way. That’s why Lois Lane didn’t ask Clark Kent why he was never anywhere Superman was. She knew, but she also knew not to ask, you know?”

  He shook his head slowly. “I…guess so.”

  “Don’t tell me you don’t know who Superman is, or we got a whole ’nother big problem.”

  He smiled again at last. “I do know who that is.”

  “Good.” He said it with emphasis and rolled his eyes. “Thought I was gonna have to teach
you everything.”

  The smile faded, and Cam dropped his gaze. “I’m not Superman either.”

  “Oh fuck, don’t you get it?” He gave Cam’s leg a shake. “I don’t give a flying crap what you are. You’re Cam, and that’s good enough for me. And I swear to fuck, if you keep trying to look the other way and not look me in the eye, I’m gonna smack you. Now stop it. You think I’m Lois Lane? Do I look like Lois Lane?” He spread his arms, inviting a good scrutiny.

  Cam laughed and shook his head. “I suppose not.”

  “None of that shit matters.” Gripping him by the back of his neck, Dylan pulled him in for a kiss that got wet and hot fast. While Dylan plundered Cam’s mouth, Cam got bold enough to push his fingers under Dylan’s T-shirt to find bare skin and a tight nipple, which he rubbed over with his thumb. The shivery sensation made Dylan groan, then whisper, “We’re just a couple of fuckups, but at least we got each other, right?”

  “Right.” Breathless. Groping his way up Dylan’s thigh, Cam said, “Dylan?”

  Dylan relaxed his legs apart and let Cam get a solid feel of him. “Yeah? Mmm…”

  “There is something you could teach me…”

  Chapter Thirteen

  There was nothing like walking with a hard-on for a quarter mile to make a guy grateful to get home. Home… As Cam followed Dylan into his rented room and resisted not at all when Dylan shoved him up against the closed door for a voracious kiss, he spared a thought for the pleasure of being welcomed into Dylan’s place, into his life. Into his bed. Or at least onto his air mattress, toward which Dylan was pulling Cam with his fingers hooked in the waistband of Cam’s jeans.

  “C’mere, baby,” Dylan growled.

  “Dylan, I…” His brain was coming back down to earth, leaving him suddenly, coldly aware of the enormity of what he was doing. Having sex with a human. Forbidden, wrong, dangerous. He stopped, then held Dylan apart from him for a moment to catch his breath. Cam’s lips were wet and swollen; the head of his cock felt wet and swollen too, and he throbbed with need from head to toe, but still…

  Dylan, bless him, didn’t push. Just stared at him as he pulled his arms out of his jacket and tossed it aside onto the floor, then seemed to reassess. “Shit. You getting cold feet? You’re getting cold feet, aren’t you?” He stepped back, just one step, and hooked his thumbs in his waistband. Despite his strained expression, he said, “Don’t worry. We’ll take it slow. Or nowhere at all.” He held up a hand as if Cam had given him some excuse, when in fact Cam was too twisted up inside to do anything but shift from foot to foot. “Whatever you want. It’s cool.”