Wings of Desire by Mab

Wings of Desire - Mab

Blair blames the dream on the beer and maybe the smallest whiff of pot smoke, which is strictly, totally second hand, because he's living with a sentinel, for heaven's sake (and if that's his subconscious indulging word play it's an excellent thing that he took up anthropology and not English literature).

Still, it's a very vivid dream, making no sense at all, and all the sense in the world, the way that dreams do when you're swimming deep under and away from the physical world. There's a distant speck against a celestially cobalt sky that's cool and translucent, and Blair peers into that depthless blue until the speck resolves into a shape, coming closer and closer, until Blair can see that it's Jim.

It's not Jim as Blair's ever seen him awake – tired, or desperately in need of his morning coffee, or looking good in spite of rather than because of his clothes. There are no dull khakis or preppy sweaters now. Jim's gloriously naked, and held aloft by the most magnificent wings – whiter than any cloud, brighter than any star. The noise they make as they beat against the air, the currents of wind that they stir, make it clear that there's power there, and power in Jim's face and the lines of his body, and in the grip of his hand on a graceful, wicked spear. His face is all stern tenderness as he looks down at the Earth below, and then he sees Blair and his expression changes. There's uncertainty, and shyness, before Jim shakes his head and soars up and back, swooping down to inspect, not Blair, but the Earth below once again and Blair's left with his hand held out, and an ache in his chest.

He wakes up the next morning, and he tries to laugh at himself. Too many drugs, legal or otherwise, and look, the blessed protector becomes a guardian angel; a naked, beautiful guardian angel. Blair's mind is sadly predictable, and mulishly pertinacious, because for weeks afterwards, Blair looks at Jim and he remembers that dream vision.

Blair reminds himself that Jim's just a man. Not an ordinary man of course, although he has more than his fair share of the ordinary vices. He's stubborn, and suspicious and there are times when you could argue that he's proud as Lucifer, with a hellish ability to turn your own arguments and words against you. Certainly, there comes a day where Blair ends up regretting every obfuscation and every white lie and grey lie, because it's clear that Jim remembers them all. He's left wondering if he isn't about to be exiled and cast out and left to wander in a wilderness, with Jim holding a flaming sword against any chance of return to Eden.

Blair has never claimed to be anything other than human, and earthy, and he struggles back and the pair of them rise together out of the mud, and one day Blair puts his hand out again. Jim's face is still uncertain, and more than a little shy, but Blair isn't about to take no for an answer, and he takes Jim to bed, and surely proves to the satisfaction of them both that Jim is absolutely a man. But when Jim wakes the next morning, and gets out of bed and stretches, he turns to smile at Blair with a face so radiantly delighted that it's nearly blinding. At least the ache in Blair's chest is a happy one, this time, and the shimmer that moves in the air is of course a trick of the light and Blair's eyes. There are no pearlescent wings spread out from Jim's back, stretching out with the rest of his body in expansive joy.

The end

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Notes: This was written for Patt when she was a little down. I hope it did the trick. Thank you to Patt for the wings.