DS fic: Span
Renfield Turnbull feels utterly ridiculous, sneaking into his own apartment via the window, shirtless, and in a ski mask. It’s a feeling that never goes away, even if the situation is borne out of necessity (he’s tired of buying new t-shirts every time his wings break through, and he can’t very well let his face be seen, even though people have a remarkable ability to rationalize away the things they see). He pulls the mask off and blinks, not having time to wonder why the lights are on.
It’s a mystery that’s solved rather quickly, as Ray Kowalski is standing in his kitchen, balancing takeout on one arm, his expression one of someone who’s finally found some elusive truth, rather than one of someone who’s trying to reconcile what he’s just seen to what he knows to be the truth.
**
“So…”
Ray is talking, but Renfield has turned away from him, gripping the counter with both hands, trying to remember how to breathe. Normally he’s able to retract his wings, but as it’s the first time anyone has discovered his secret, he’s barely able to hold himself up, much less exert enough energy to do anything so strenuous.
“It’s alright,” Ray touches him carefully on his side, avoiding the feathers, and it’s enough to make Renfield shudder at the unfamiliarity. It’s been years since anyone touched him so intimately, but after what feels like an eternity, Ray slides an arm around him and pulls him close, and Renfield doesn’t bother wondering if it should feel strange that it’s not strange to put his head on Ray’s shoulder and rest there.
**
“So this is why you’re so….different.”
If Renfield’s wings were out, they would bristle at the comment. He knows exactly what the word ‘different’ means when placed on him as a label, and he’s disappointed that Ray would resort to it. But Renfield is used to being disappointed, so he just sets his takeout back down on the table and presses his hands against the top, studying them, something he’s always done whenever he gets nervous. It’s been days since Ray discovered his secret, and nothing has changed, or so he had thought. Already he’s thinking wistfully of what he had dared to hope for.
His heart seems to skip when Ray places one of his own hands on top of Renfield’s. “Hey, look at me.”
And with some difficulty Renfield does. Ray is looking at him intently. “Listen, Renny. I didn’t mean anything by it…just….look, you’re not the only one who feels like a freak. I mean I….” he pushes back from the table and runs his frustrated hands through his hair, a gesture that seems to flip a switch in Renfield’s mind. He had never stopped to consider why Ray had taken to befriending him, that Ray might be as lonely as he is.
**
It effects a change in their relationship, a dramatic one, seemingly surreal because of all the nights that Renfield has fantasized about such things. It’s much more intense than he could have thought, the way he’s shaking while Ray is holding him down by the hips and slowly swallowing his cock, pausing to grab his hand and squeeze it once, as if to ask if he may continue. Renfield gives Ray’s hand a squeeze back and manages to stop shaking..
**
Some times are worse than others. There’s an adrenaline that comes from the rush of fear when he encounters a dangerous situation and the relief when he’s able to prevent a tragedy. His head pounds when he has a vision of someone in trouble, and it can be hours before it subsides.
Ray is waiting for him on this night, and Renfield takes a moment to thank whatever forces might be helping him out, because Ray helps him strip out of his remaining clothing and lay down on the bed to fight off the waves of nausea. Ray brings him a cool cloth for his head and rubs him down with a warm towel. This is something that Renfield would have never expected, not even enough to fantasize about it before.
When Renfield opens his eyes again he doesn’t know how much time has passed, just that he’s slept long enough for the pain to subside. Ray is sitting in a nearby chair, reading a newspaper. He doesn’t say anything immediately, thinking about how no one else has bothered to care for him in such a way since he was a child.
“Ray,” his own voice sounds hoarse and unused to him. Ray sets his paper to the side. “What is it?” he approaches the bed and rests his hand on Renfield’s arm, and Renfield realizes that his wings haven’t retracted and that his head is still pounding somewhat, however dully. “There’s a twenty-four hour pharmacy two blocks from here,” he murmurs tiredly.
“You want something for your head, something to help you sleep?” Ray’s blue eyes are full of concern, and Renfield’s heart beats just a little faster. “Yes,” he replies, fighting to keep his voice completely steady, “and lubricant.” He can feel the heat rising in his face but he forces himself to keep looking at Ray.
Both of Ray’s eyebrows rise, giving him a surprised rather than an incredulous look. “Are you sure that’s what you…need?”
Renfield has to swallow around the lump that has somehow formed in his throat. “Yes Ray.”
“Okay,” Ray smiles, and, Renfield wonders, not for the first time, how on Earth Ray has managed to perfect the art of timing, because the gentle, understanding smile that threatens to tear Renfield apart shifts, and he finds himself flushing at the feral gleam in Ray’s eyes.
**
He’s still exhausted, even if aroused, and the wings are too heavy to deal with other than to let them span the bed while he lies on his stomach. Ray is rubbing circles on his back and shoulders, and he tries not to drift off to sleep. He spreads his legs in what he intends as an inviting message, his breath already quickening.
He feels an unfamiliar sensation at the same time he feels Ray’s cock filling him and Ray’s nipples brushing against his back. It’s his wings, feeling less like a burden and more like the deceptively light feathers they must appear to be.
**
Dawn is just beginning to break when Renfield opens his eyes next. Ray’s arms are wrapped tightly around him, and his wings have retracted into their mysterious recesses that he can never find even when he tries to probe for them.
He cranes his neck to look behind him, and blinks, incredulous. White-feathered wings, so much more ethereal than his own earth-colored ones, seem to rest folded behind Ray.
“Go back to sleep,” Ray murmurs, and when Renfield blinks again, the wings are gone. He takes a moment to wonder if they’re real or imagined, then closes his eyes as he realizes that it doesn’t matter.
It’s a mystery that’s solved rather quickly, as Ray Kowalski is standing in his kitchen, balancing takeout on one arm, his expression one of someone who’s finally found some elusive truth, rather than one of someone who’s trying to reconcile what he’s just seen to what he knows to be the truth.
**
“So…”
Ray is talking, but Renfield has turned away from him, gripping the counter with both hands, trying to remember how to breathe. Normally he’s able to retract his wings, but as it’s the first time anyone has discovered his secret, he’s barely able to hold himself up, much less exert enough energy to do anything so strenuous.
“It’s alright,” Ray touches him carefully on his side, avoiding the feathers, and it’s enough to make Renfield shudder at the unfamiliarity. It’s been years since anyone touched him so intimately, but after what feels like an eternity, Ray slides an arm around him and pulls him close, and Renfield doesn’t bother wondering if it should feel strange that it’s not strange to put his head on Ray’s shoulder and rest there.
**
“So this is why you’re so….different.”
If Renfield’s wings were out, they would bristle at the comment. He knows exactly what the word ‘different’ means when placed on him as a label, and he’s disappointed that Ray would resort to it. But Renfield is used to being disappointed, so he just sets his takeout back down on the table and presses his hands against the top, studying them, something he’s always done whenever he gets nervous. It’s been days since Ray discovered his secret, and nothing has changed, or so he had thought. Already he’s thinking wistfully of what he had dared to hope for.
His heart seems to skip when Ray places one of his own hands on top of Renfield’s. “Hey, look at me.”
And with some difficulty Renfield does. Ray is looking at him intently. “Listen, Renny. I didn’t mean anything by it…just….look, you’re not the only one who feels like a freak. I mean I….” he pushes back from the table and runs his frustrated hands through his hair, a gesture that seems to flip a switch in Renfield’s mind. He had never stopped to consider why Ray had taken to befriending him, that Ray might be as lonely as he is.
**
It effects a change in their relationship, a dramatic one, seemingly surreal because of all the nights that Renfield has fantasized about such things. It’s much more intense than he could have thought, the way he’s shaking while Ray is holding him down by the hips and slowly swallowing his cock, pausing to grab his hand and squeeze it once, as if to ask if he may continue. Renfield gives Ray’s hand a squeeze back and manages to stop shaking..
**
Some times are worse than others. There’s an adrenaline that comes from the rush of fear when he encounters a dangerous situation and the relief when he’s able to prevent a tragedy. His head pounds when he has a vision of someone in trouble, and it can be hours before it subsides.
Ray is waiting for him on this night, and Renfield takes a moment to thank whatever forces might be helping him out, because Ray helps him strip out of his remaining clothing and lay down on the bed to fight off the waves of nausea. Ray brings him a cool cloth for his head and rubs him down with a warm towel. This is something that Renfield would have never expected, not even enough to fantasize about it before.
When Renfield opens his eyes again he doesn’t know how much time has passed, just that he’s slept long enough for the pain to subside. Ray is sitting in a nearby chair, reading a newspaper. He doesn’t say anything immediately, thinking about how no one else has bothered to care for him in such a way since he was a child.
“Ray,” his own voice sounds hoarse and unused to him. Ray sets his paper to the side. “What is it?” he approaches the bed and rests his hand on Renfield’s arm, and Renfield realizes that his wings haven’t retracted and that his head is still pounding somewhat, however dully. “There’s a twenty-four hour pharmacy two blocks from here,” he murmurs tiredly.
“You want something for your head, something to help you sleep?” Ray’s blue eyes are full of concern, and Renfield’s heart beats just a little faster. “Yes,” he replies, fighting to keep his voice completely steady, “and lubricant.” He can feel the heat rising in his face but he forces himself to keep looking at Ray.
Both of Ray’s eyebrows rise, giving him a surprised rather than an incredulous look. “Are you sure that’s what you…need?”
Renfield has to swallow around the lump that has somehow formed in his throat. “Yes Ray.”
“Okay,” Ray smiles, and, Renfield wonders, not for the first time, how on Earth Ray has managed to perfect the art of timing, because the gentle, understanding smile that threatens to tear Renfield apart shifts, and he finds himself flushing at the feral gleam in Ray’s eyes.
**
He’s still exhausted, even if aroused, and the wings are too heavy to deal with other than to let them span the bed while he lies on his stomach. Ray is rubbing circles on his back and shoulders, and he tries not to drift off to sleep. He spreads his legs in what he intends as an inviting message, his breath already quickening.
He feels an unfamiliar sensation at the same time he feels Ray’s cock filling him and Ray’s nipples brushing against his back. It’s his wings, feeling less like a burden and more like the deceptively light feathers they must appear to be.
**
Dawn is just beginning to break when Renfield opens his eyes next. Ray’s arms are wrapped tightly around him, and his wings have retracted into their mysterious recesses that he can never find even when he tries to probe for them.
He cranes his neck to look behind him, and blinks, incredulous. White-feathered wings, so much more ethereal than his own earth-colored ones, seem to rest folded behind Ray.
“Go back to sleep,” Ray murmurs, and when Renfield blinks again, the wings are gone. He takes a moment to wonder if they’re real or imagined, then closes his eyes as he realizes that it doesn’t matter.