by Jan Irving
“Are you shy, Matthew?” Dove was smiling, cocking his head to study Matthew.
Matthew didn’t know whether to laugh or tear his hair. “No, I’m very not shy. That’s the problem! Now get your sexy, innocent ass safely out of my sight and stop waving your pretty candy cane around, alright?”
“Candy cane?” Dove gave his erection a fond look. “I think I like that.”
“I’m a bad boy, but I’m trying to be good, so you do your thing, and then we’ll get some sleep,” Matthew asserted grumpily. God, the sexy angel was going to kill him. But he couldn’t take advantage, not after what had happened to him in prison. He never wanted to hurt or disillusion Dove; the thought made his chest tight.
Dove hesitated, clearly enjoying playing with his new toy, but finally he reluctantly headed into the bathroom again.
Matthew collapsed on the couch and wiped his damp palms. He was rock hard. Rock hard. He had to get his sweet alien friend back into the friendly skies soon. Otherwise, he might lose control and show him firsthand all kinds of things about sex. Hard, wild, wet, raw man sex.
Chapter Five
Matthew had a cigarette on his lip as he went into Willy’s to get the paper and a beer. He had to look for work since his second job was currently only two nights a week, not enough to pay the rent. Willy, a former boxer with a scarred white eyebrow and battered cheekbones, waved at him and gave Dove an appreciative look over. Dove smiled in response, looking around the dark bar and listening to the country music with interest.
“Beer for me, coffee for my friend, and maybe a cheese sandwich? That’s sort of breakfast, right?” Instinctively, Matthew moved in front of Dove, not liking another man’s eyes on what was his.
Shit! He wasn’t thinking that way, was he? That was so fucked.
“Whatever,” Willy said, his green eyes indifferent. He went to start up some coffee before passing a beer for Matthew, who took it and guided Dove with a hand on the small of his back to a table where they could sit down and eat. As they walked, he tried not to stare at Dove’s ass, very tightly cupped in jeans too small for him.
“I’m sorry I fired you,” Dove said, spotting the want ads in the newspaper. “Maybe I can help you find work before I go back to where I belong.”
“Don’t think so, but thanks for the thought.” Matthew took a drag and then frowned when Dove reached out and took his cigarette away.
“That might kill you,” Dove said with genuine sadness. “Please don’t smoke, Matthew-friend.”
“Not like that would be a big loss, now would it?” Matthew retorted, taking back the cigarette.
“It would be a loss for me.”
“Yeah? Well, as soon as we figure out how to get you back where you belong again, it’s not likely you’ll even remember me.” Matthew carefully avoided looking in those dark eyes. His angel saw too much.
“I will watch over you once I’m back, as I did before I came here. You’ll never be alone.”
Matthew felt his eyes actually sting a little. Fuck!
“Yeah? Whatever,” he said, deliberately sounding bored. “Not like I believe in guardian angels.”
Dove looked hurt at Matthew’s stony indifference.“Why did you go to prison, Matthew? When you were a child you were so gentle. Did you do something bad?”
He never talked about it. “Didn’t check in to see that part, huh? My half-sister was married to someone who hurt her. One night I… stopped him,” Matthew found himself sharing.
“Oh, Matthew. You hurt someone.”
“Yeah, I hurt him; that’s who your friend is!” Matthew stabbed out the cigarette and went to get the coffee and sandwich for Dove. He came back and shoved the food in front of the beautiful being. “You still want to eat food you get from me? Since I’m so—”
Dove ignored his meal, standing up, reaching out, and hugging Matthew.
“Get off me, you crazy fuck!” He was suddenly fighting tears. Shit!
Dove whispered, “I’m sorry, Matthew. I know I should feel bad for the other man you hurt, but I mainly feel bad for you.”
“Don’t!” Matthew’s head was down, his cheeks flushed, embarrassed, trembling.
“Are you okay, Earth friend?”
“Fine. I just. Don’t fucking look at me like that, like you feel sorry for me!”
Dove kissed Matthew’s cheek.
And Matthew backed away, freaked out now, his hands up. “Stay here! I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere. Don’t, um, fly. All right?”
“Matthew, your aura is bleeding!”
“Shut the fuck up and stay here!”
* * *
Outside, Matthew knocked over some trash cans. He was shaking, so he sort of collapsed against the brick wall for a moment.
What the fuck had happened in there?
All Dove had actually done was hug him. Not like it meant fucking anything. The angel was a big spaz.
Matthew covered his face, trying to get himself under control.
It was those eyes. Dark, penetrating. They went inside Matthew and touched him where he was all blasted walls and shrapnel. More, they touched him, changed him in a way he was afraid he wouldn’t be able to forget.
* * *
The angel knew he was supposed to stay here and eat the cheese sandwich, but he could see spilled aura in orange and yellow and bright red in a trail leading to the back door. Matthew’s aura was bleeding!
Most angels couldn’t bear to be among humans long. It hurt them very badly to see all this pain and rage and be unable to heal it. All angels wanted to help, but for all their power, they were delicate creatures. If Dove didn’t get back to his ship soon, he knew he’d risk going insane like other angels who had gotten trapped down here on Earth.
It was why he was so afraid.
But his only friend here was so full of pain. The shameful truth was Dove really wanted to turn away from Matthew’s wounds, but this human had always called to him, always touched him.
Why didn’t Matthew see how special he was?
* * *
Matthew rubbed his eyes, getting a grip. When he looked up, it was to see Dove had followed him. The angel should have looked ordinary wearing a T-shirt that said “No one knows I’m gay” that Matthew had been given as a gift; it was the only thing large enough for the bigger man, but Matthew had carefully covered it with a jean jacket so his angel wouldn’t get into trouble.
“What fucking happened when you touched me in there? Something happened.” He’d felt something shift between them, felt himself opening up and Dove going inside him somehow.
“I’m an empath. I can touch your pain, take it away, if you only let me,” Dove explained, but Matthew noticed how his eyes darkened as if in fear.
Matthew frowned. “Sounds nice and freaky, but what happens to it? I mean, if I remember my basic science nothing can truly be destroyed, right?”
“You are very smart, Matthew,” Dove said. “No, if I take your pain, you don’t feel it anymore, but it goes inside me, and I bleed.”
“You’d feel what I feel. Would you see things that happened to me?” Matthew swallowed, flashing through certain chapters of his life.
“Not see them, relive them,” Dove outlined simply. “They’d be mine and not yours. You’d be free.”
“So when you hugged me, you were trying to take some of my pain?” Matthew straightened, getting a handle on things.
“It’s what an angel does.” Dove nodded. “It’s why we mostly float around and watch. If we do it too often then we can’t stop bleeding and—”
Matthew’s gut tightened. “I don’t want you to hug me again, ever!”
“But, Matthew, your aura—”
“I don’t fucking care about my fucking aura, all right? Let’s just get you fixed and back to floating on clouds. I’m doing just fine minding my own pain!” Matthew shoved away from the wall and gestured for Dove to follow him.
The angel did as Matthew directed, but he could also see the
black patches around his aura.
Matthew was dying.
His heart was bleeding from the bad things in his life, and if he didn’t get help soon, he’d find a way to die.
Chapter Six
“So my friend needs help, see.” Matthew had yet another cigarette resting on the corner of his mouth, despite Dove’s anxious disapproval. He was talking to Leo, someone who had a way of helping all kinds of people. In the joint he’d been the go-to guy, the fixer.
“Yeah, does he need a job? He has a look of innocence that would probably mean he’d turn a good buck working at Ricardo’s.” Leo licked his lips, gaze on the angel. “Looks like no one has ever touched him before, you know? Men will pay a lot for that kind of fantasy.”
Matthew flushed, understanding that fantasy all too well. He also looked toward Dove, who was sitting on the park bench, blinking up at the sunshine, watching the pigeons being fed by an old lady and a kid. His angel was smiling...
Matthew wanted to be embarrassed by him, how open and goofy he was, but it just made his heart ache to see him like that, tangled black hair, a little sexy stubble—which he was keeping for the moment since Matthew’s razor terrified him—and those tight jeans that gloved his sex like a loving hand.
Fuck. E.T. had to call home soon so Matthew could get back to his regular life. He couldn’t touch someone like him, a fucking angel? Matthew was so far below his touch, it wasn’t funny. He got by now. He didn’t long for things anymore that he knew he’d never possess, didn’t want to travel like he used to. Wanting an angel in his life, just for him? That wasn’t a path that led anywhere happy. Matthew had already paid the ultimate price for loving someone, trying to take care of someone. He wasn’t looking to get any more wounds.
“He’s not gay. Uh. I don’t think.” Did angels have a sexual orientation? Did they even think about sex? Didn’t sound like it, from what Dove had said about sex being awkward. On the other hand, he had seemed very happy to have a penis, and he’d gotten hard from hugging Matthew last night. Don’t go there, he warned himself.
But Matthew smiled reluctantly, remembering Dove playing with himself.
“Come on, easy money. He could flash himself, dance a little. He’s hot material!”
Matthew ground out, “He doesn’t need money. What he needs is a little help, which is where you come in.”
“He looks a little slow.” Leo cocked his head. “Maybe you could just work him and manage his take.”
Matthew hefted Leo up on his toes, shoving his face close. “This isn’t the joint. He’s not mine to sell. We clear?”
“Well, fuck it, sorry, okay! Jesus, someone’s gotten really touchy since he left prison. Time was, you took a throw yourself–”
“I did what I had to, but not him,” Matthew growled. “Not him, all right?”
Dove was suddenly beside Matthew. He put his arm around him, brow crinkling with concern. “Matthew-friend, are you okay?”
Matthew swallowed. Fuck! His heart sped up whenever Dove touched him. “Told you not to fucking touch me!” He shoved Dove’s hand off him.
“S-sorry! I forgot. You were hurting and I forgot.” Dove’s head fell. He looked like he was fighting tears.
“Shit!” Matthew reached out and tugged a long silky lock of Dove’s dark hair, trying not to stare at his full bottom lip and want to bite it. Be nice, he told himself. Right, he had to focus on comforting the angel and not thinking bad thoughts about him, like what he’d love to do with him. “I’m sorry; I’m an asshole.”
“Yes, you are, Matthew. And you say a lot of bad words.” But Dove was smiling again.
“Yeah, I’m a very bad boy. Now go sit down, gorgeous, and I’ll see if I can find a way to help you out.”
Leo had been watching with obvious fascination. Matthew supposed part of it was the fixer was seeing a more nurturing side to Matthew than he’d shown anyone in the joint.
“Sorry, you didn’t tell me he was your boyfriend! You were never, you know, exclusive with anyone before; not that there weren’t a few guys who wanted you that way.”
Matthew decided not to try to explain. If Leo thought Dove was his, he’d back off about suggesting jobs Dove could get shaking his ass or sucking off other men, which would be good since it made Matthew very, very pissed off to think of his gorgeous innocent doing any of those things.
For anyone but Matthew, that is. Shit!
“He is mine,” Matthew said, glaring into Leo’s eyes, all alpha male in a wiry package.
Leo dropped his gaze first. He obviously remembered how insanely Matthew could fight, and he didn’t want to get on his bad side. Sometimes having a rep was useful, even if it was earned in blood and broken ribs and other things Matthew didn’t let himself think about.
“Too bad. He’s yours, but I would have loved to hire him for a night. That untouched look; it’s a kink.” Leo raised his hands at Matthew’s killer glare. “So what you need? Work for yourself? You know I could help you make some high-class connections. Hollywood producers, that kind of shit.”
“I don’t sell myself. What I need,” Matthew’s voice softened to a whisper, and he glanced around to make sure no one else was within hearing range, “is to figure out how to send a signal into outer space.”
Leo laughed.
Matthew sighed.
* * *
“I was thinking maybe the planetarium? Or an observatory, a place that already sends signals into space, that might work,” Matthew said.
Dove shrugged off his denim jacket and his T-shirt with the enticing slogan. It rode up his olive, smooth skin as he also flashed that little line of black hair revealed by his low-riding jeans as he peeled them off.
Matthew wanted to lick that treasure trail right down to his thick cock and then take it in his mouth and—
“I think I’m hungry,” Dove complained.
Matthew took a deep breath. He wanted to eat something too. “Okay, I can make some mac and cheese. I think you’d like that.”
“Matthew, your half-sister?”
“What about her?” Well, that killed his drive. Matthew banged the pan on the burner, trying not to stiffen up. What was it with angels that they apparently knew just where to poke, never giving a man any peace?
“Did she forgive you for saving her from the man who hurt her?”
Matthew swallowed as he used the burner to light a cigarette. He took a drag and looked over at Dove, who was lying on Matthew’s bed, splayed out like a beautiful pet.
“She told me she hoped I’d want to die in the joint,” Matthew said. “Guess her wish came true.”
* * *
“This is good!”
“I’m glad you like it, gorgeous.” Matthew experienced a silly kind of pride that Dove was so enthusiastic about his simple meal. He liked providing for someone. It wasn’t something he’d done for a long time, except for the odd little boy he’d taken under his wing in prison to protect him from the predators who liked innocents. “What’s it like, being an angel?”
“Angel is a human name for us. We are more like what you call little green men, only I’m not green and I don’t come from Mars,” Dove stated firmly. “I have never been to Mars. Oh, and I’m not so little either.”
Matthew rolled his eyes. “Thanks for clearing that up! What do you look like?”
“My ship is a container for my essence. Unlike you, I don’t have a body. I can create one though. I like doing that.” Dove looked wistful. “I was sure you’d enjoy this body; you thought about it often. Even though it is an accident that I am here, I wanted… to get closer to you, Matthew.”
Matthew cleared his throat. “So you’re sort of a shape-shifter?”
“I guess, just not like something from that movie Aliens. I’m not a scary alien; I’m a friendly one.”
“Do you have wings?”
Dove looked abashed. “I have very young wings. If I want to go flying, I can use them. Not like when we left the hospital, since that was j
ust a hop.”
Matthew blinked, remembering his terror as they’d floated out the window. “Uh, right, just a hop.” He put aside his portion of their meal and then smiled slightly when Dove took it from him to finish. He liked sharing food with him; it was almost like having a real boyfriend.
“I’d like to see your wings sometime.” Matthew made to light another cigarette.
“Okay.”
Suddenly Dove was floating over the bed. On either side of his big, bare shoulders were enormous wings of white feathers and silver gilt, as fluffy as a big fucking Christmas ornament—only as Matthew watched, mouth agape—the wings shivered with a hundred colors, iridescent as a soap bubble, reflecting every color.
One of the angel’s wings knocked over Matthew’s kitchen table.
“Kinda clumsy,” Matthew rasped, at a loss. What the fuck do you say to a real angel? Holy fuck!
“Sorry!” Dove flushed. “I told you I’m young.”
Matthew crushed out his unlit cigarette. He sat back on his Salvation Army couch and simply looked at Dove, glowing silver, his beautiful naked body radiant, his face illuminated like it was fucking backlit…
“It’s okay; it’s just a crappy table. And,” he swallowed thickly before saying honestly, “You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
Chapter Seven
“Are you going to go to bed now?”
“Yeah, I’m… tired.” What Matthew didn’t say was he was actually depressed and horny. He was holding one white iridescent feather from his angel he’d found on his dusty hardwood floor after Dove’s wings disappeared, holding onto the wonder of that moment. Matthew couldn’t forget the glorious vision lighting his crappy apartment. It had marked him.
He knew he should feel even worse for wanting to put his hands on such an innocent. He’d tried to be good, ordering Dove to put his clothes back on while they ate canned peaches for dessert. Otherwise… he was only human; he wanted to touch and kiss and possess.