Grant Us Wings (2/3)
I feel productive! Then I realise it has taken me more than a month to write this second part. /o\ Also, how did this fic get so long??
Fic Title: Grant Us Wings (2/3)
Pairing: Jesse/Andrew
Genre: Urban fantasy
Word Count: ~13,000 words for Part 2 and 3
Rating: NC-17
Summary: A fairytale (literally) that involves love and heritage, the choices we make and the silliness that is Andrew and Jesse’s lives.
Note: Keira Knightley is a faerie and was never an actress in this story.
Hearts for elefante_locura who beta-ed this and ensured I don't sound like I'm drunk-writing! This was written for distracterisey's birthday. Sorry it took me so long, bb. ;__;
Part 1
Part 2
The highest chamber looked like it hadn’t changed in the years Andrew had been away. The room was a gnarled indoor garden, branches spouting from the Circle’s curved walls and branching into seats, perches, reclining benches. Vines and flowers had been coaxed to grow and bloom all year round, an explosion of lushness and color more intense than the natural, soft beauty out in the Circle’s Forest.
It was enough to give Andrew a headache.
A younger faerie standing by the side of the chamber hollered, "THE PRINCE HAS ARRIVED, ALONG WITH HIS PROTECTOR. GUESTS ARE THE YOUNG LIGHT, JUSTIN, AND THE PRINCE’S HUMAN GUESTS."
Andrew could almost feel Emma opening her mouth to make a snarky comment, but Justin elbowed her in the side and whispered, "Don’t say anything. Whatever you guys do, don’t say anything here."
There was no time for anymore cautions. Andrew knew his part to play and strode forward with conviction he didn’t feel. Keeping just a step behind him was Keira.
"Why have we not gotten rid of the herald yet?" grumbled an old faerie with long white hair tied into a waterfall of braids. "The day we rely on his voice instead of our own eyes is the day you can eject us old sods from the Wizens."
Andrew smiled at that. "Uncle Phineas, please leave poor Cain alone."
"He’s my grandson, I can suggest his retrenchment if I like," sniffed Phineas, arranging his braids fussily.
Everyone ignored the spluttering of Cain, the underappreciated herald.
"Wizens," said Andrew with a clear, ringing voice. "The Night Prince addresses you."
That was all the formality they needed. A few of the older, more traditional faerie relaxed their stiff spines, and settled into the loving arch of the branches from the walls. Some of the faerie simply reclined on the grassy ground of the chambers, watching Andrew with rapt gazes.
"Oh darling, it’s so good to see you!" cooed an older, curvy faerie, her pale blue translucent wings beating frantically in apparent delight. "I didn’t think you would ever come back, what changed your mind?"
"An assassination attempt, Janis. I don’t know if I have changed my mind yet, but I can’t stay away until I get this resolved," said Andrew with a shrug.
Janis’ wings slowed down. "How crass. These Light faeries, they really must be taught a lesson."
An irritated young faerie perched on an overhanging branch called out, "What’s that Light faerie doing here then?"
Justin sketched a mocking half-bow. "Justin, twelfth removed from the throne. I haven’t been back to the Otherlands for a few years, but surely the truce still holds? Has there been a change in laws on visiting faerie?"
"Regardless of the laws, it’s not like we want your kind in our highest chamber, among us Wizens," sneered the man, stretching out his huge, dark brown wings, revealing a symmetrical pattern that resembled huge owl eyes.
"Oh, don’t be tedious, Edward," snapped another faerie from across the room, crossing her legs as she shifted on an oversized mushroom. "Light faeries are good enough to bend you over a log for a quickie, but they aren’t good enough to breathe your same air in the high chambers?"
"You pollen-breathing, dew-swilling, fish-fucker!" snapped Edward in his fury.
Ah, Andrew was strongly reminded of the reasons why he hated being the Night prince. Having to hold court over a bunch of whiny bureaucrats everyday would drive him batty. How did politicians do this? Why would they even want to?
Keira said sharply, "Stop. Edward and Rooney, this is a shameful display."
Rooney looked away with a huff, and pretended not to feel chastised, while Edward sunk into a sullen, grumpy silence. Keira was always better at commandeering respect.
Andrew spoke up, "Justin is my guest. He came to protect me when he believed I was in danger, which proves his intentions. I welcome his attendance."
There was a murmur of discussion over this morsel of news, some pleased with the outcome, while others were disgruntled.
Another faerie that Andrew did not recognize, all wild dark hair and silver eyed with wispy, almost feathery gray wings, sat up from his nest of coiled branches and leaves. "Are you saying that Keira, your very own protector, didn’t come to your rescue? That you had to wait for a Light faerie to save you?"
"A spineless worm challenges my ability to protect the Prince?" asked Keira with snapping heat. "Do you want to test my skills in combat?"
"I’m not the royal protector, loyal guard dog. That’s hardly a fair fight," pointed out the other faerie, flipping his hand dismissively.
"Translation; Jon’s manhood does not measure up to Keira’s," murmured Rooney, blithely nibbling on the rose petals she plucked from a large, crimson bloom when Jon turned an angry glare at her.
For a brief moment, Andrew had a craving for the taste of rose petals, the sweetness edged with sharp bitterness. It had been a long time since he had any.
He pulled himself back to more pressing matters. "Keira protected me of course. These baseless accusations about her ability, something no one who knows her would doubt, are pointless and a waste of time." He said that last bit to Jon with a fair bit of irritation. "Justin came anyway to lend a hand, as he didn’t know the numbers that were sent against me."
Janis alighted to the ground and clutched her hands together. "Well, it’s all good that you’re back here regardless. You’ll be better protected back in Nightlands and no assassins would be able to get to you."
"I would feel safer if there hadn’t also been Dark faeries involved in the attack," said Andrew.
"What?" Janis asked, freezing.
"Dark faeries who were assaulting their own Prince," said Keira.
"Could this be a mistake?" asked Edward, leaning forward on his elbows.
"Do you doubt my ability to recognize our own kind?" Keira asked.
Andrew interrupted the oncoming posturing that could go on forever. "They were immune to pure moonlight, and resisted my command to sleep until I gained skin contact. That should be evidence enough."
He didn’t explain that they were still unconscious, and Keira had called for the other Protectors to come pick them up from Jesse’s apartment. Maybe a round of interrogation would reveal who they were working for, but Andrew wasn’t holding up much hope for that. He didn’t intend to tell the Wizens anymore though.
"They must be mad men, to attempt this attack," commented Thom, one of the remaining Wizens who had kept silent so far.
Andrew folded his arms in impatience. "Let’s not pretend to be dumb here. It’s obvious that there’s a power struggle in Nightlands as well, and my being gone would suit a few people here."
Jon spluttered, "You’re not really implying-"
Phineas interrupted, "Regardless of all the speculation, your being back resolves all these problems. It’s safer for you here."
Andrew clenched his hands into fists, fruitless anger with no real outlet. "What if I don’t want to take the throne?"
"Oh no, not this again," grumbled Rooney, powering down the remaining petals like they were popcorn.
Keira hissed, "Andrew, you don’t know what you’re-"
Jon called out, "Does the protector speak for the Prince now?"
"You cannot be serious!" fluttered Janis.
Phineas shouted above the outbreak of voices, "You know what this really means, Prince! The laws have not changed!"
The voices sank into unsettled silence.
"I know," said Andrew, trying to hold back a wince.
Phineas glared, "If you really knew, you wouldn’t suggest it. You are opening yourself up to a challenge for the throne, a fight to the death?"
"What?" Andrew heard Jesse speak up for the first time. "Wait, what?"
Keira stepped forward, standing very close to Andrew’s side and just half a step behind him, as if her looming presence was to say that anyone who dared to challenge him would have to fight her too.
"You know you have no say in this, Keira. You cannot fight this battle for the Prince," pointed out Edward, looking intrigued.
The Prince this, the Prince that. Andrew was getting thoroughly sick of being seen as only ‘the Prince’ after being back for all of fifteen minutes. It was like the name Andrew didn’t exist in any of their vocabulary.
Jon looked almost gleeful at this whole idea. He actually stood up and took a few paces forward. Andrew didn’t take it too personally, as he knew most Night faeries would turn up for a challenge to the death if it went ahead, the last one having being done a millennium ago.
Except Jon was clearly thinking about the other option, because he said, "Of course, the other way to abdicate the throne is to give up your wings, see if you survive them being ripped off your back. We would have to wait for the full moon, pin the wings to the entrance of the Circle-"
He could hear Jesse’s voice from behind him. "What the hell?"
Justin shushed him, "We’ll talk later, remember what I said."
"Damn what you said, he can’t be serious," hissed Emma.
"Andrew, what are you doing?" asked Jesse urgently.
Not happy to be interrupted, Jon’s silver eyes flickered to them. "Your humans look adorable, but are terribly untrained. Halt their tongues, or I’ll remove those flapping appendages."
Andrew felt the flicker of anger at being forced back to Nightlands flare to a red hot fury. "Don’t threaten my guests."
An older female faerie leaned down from her perch close to the ceiling. "I will take the curly-haired one. He looks like a puppy, and I’ve always wanted a pet human."
Without even realizing it, Andrew’s wings beat once, and light swirled around his hands. "Jesse is under my protection, and no one here will touch him as long as I live."
There was a moment of stunned silence. Andrew glared up at the petite faerie in anger, meeting her surprised gaze with an angry, determined stare.
"The same goes for the others," he added, when he realized what a claim he was making on Jesse alone.
The faeries continued to stare at him like he had lost his mind.
Justin clapped his hands once, breaking the silence. "Well then, your Prince has spoken. You’ve all heard him."
Andrew took a deep breath and turned to Phineas, his mother’s brother. "Uncle, is there no other way? By right -"
Phineas held up a hand. "It’s obviously been a stressful day for all, as you have just been attacked and now you’re back in Nightlands after years away. I suggest we all rest for the night before we convene again tomorrow evening."
"Agreed," piped up Rooney.
Edward watched Andrew. "Agreed. You need to cool your thoughts, Andrew."
For all that Edward clashed opinions with many in the room, he had always been kind to Andrew when Andrew was a child.
"Agreed," sighed Andrew.
"ONE PROPOSAL, THREE AGREEMENTS, SO WITNESSED," boomed out Herald Cain. "THE WIZENS WILL BREAK FOR THE NIGHT."
Phineas rolled his eyes. "Oh for God’s sake, we can count, Cain."
"Propriety, Phineas, there’s nothing wrong with it," sniffed Janis.
Andrew rubbed his forehead. Seriously, how was this his life? Why did he have to deal with this?
# # # # # # # # # #
Andrew and Keira led the others to a room that had grown into place during their meeting with the Wizens. It was situated right next to the Wizen’s chamber, and took up the rest of the space right at the very top of the Circle. The tightly woven branches and flowers had grown and stretched to form the large room in response to Andrew’s presence in the Circle, and he knew that it would look exactly the same as the room he had before he had left.
Unlike their initial trip into the Circle, Jesse and Emma were far less blown away by the surroundings. In fact, they didn’t seem to notice at all that the room hadn’t existed when they first flew up.
They were too angry to notice.
"What the fuck, Garfield," snapped Emma, rounding on him immediately.
Andrew didn’t meet her gaze, and he could feel his wings stretching back in defensiveness. "I’m the heir to the throne, it’s not something I can just turn down easily."
"But you never said you had to fight to the death for it! Or- Or tear out your wings," she said, hands thrown up in horror.
He saw Justin wince at her words, probably imagining the horror of having his own wings forcibly removed.
Jesse stepped closer, which made Andrew look at him immediately. "You- Why did you come back here? If you didn’t, you wouldn’t have to make this choice."
"It’s, well, I hate it, but it’s my responsibility. Maybe I could have run forever, if there wasn’t any threat to you, all of you, but it would have been cowardly. It wouldn’t have been fair," said Andrew, struggling for the right words.
"Because you’re the Prince. And the people need their Prince," said Jesse, staring at him with unreadable blue eyes.
Andrew shrugged, looking away. "The Wizens can’t rule indefinitely, and they would have been forced to make a decision to drag me back, or fall into a power struggle once I turned thirty years old. I’ve been irresponsible." He sighed. "I guess I can’t be irresponsible forever."
"So your only choices are to try to kill someone else in a battle to the death, or have your wings removed?" asked Emma, incredulous.
"Removed and see if he survives," said Keira quietly. "It’s a traumatic injury. It strips faeries of their magic."
Andrew sighed. "I was hoping to abdicate the throne without fuss. In the past, one of the heirs unrelated to the current line abdicated due to a prior claim to his life, because he had been promised away by his parents when he was a baby. The other party made a claim on the promise just before he took the throne."
"It was a very different case, Andrew," cut in Keira. "And there is no such claim on you."
It was true, but Andrew had been hoping to sort of just talk a lot, and make his case, and prayed for leniency or for the Wizens to disinherit him in disgust at his lack of Princely qualities.
"So it’s back to death by combat or death by wings destruction," said Emma in her typical blunt way.
Jesse said, his voice just as quiet, "Or you could stay. Be king."
"But he doesn’t want to stay," said Emma to Jesse.
"At least he would still be alive," pointed out Justin, wincing when Emma slapped him in the arm for his contribution.
"Only you could end up in a situation where becoming a king is a negative outcome," said Jesse in a huff, a poor attempt at his dry humor.
Andrew tried to tamp down on his sadness. "It’s very ‘poor little rich boy’ of me, but I have never wanted to be King."
That ended all conversation for awhile, an almost depressive cloud suffocating the lightness out of the room.
Justin finally spoke up, "Look, you guys need to talk. And really figure out what you want to do."
Keira eyed all of them. "What is there to do?"
"Just, talk. Alright? Talk about your feelings and all," ordered Justin, pointing at Andrew and making strangely crazy eyes at him. "I need to go back to Brightlands for the night, or my father will kill me for coming to Otherlands and not visiting him."
Keira nodded at him. "That’s a good decision. I’ll visit my father tonight."
"Wait, aren’t you Andrew’s, um, protector?" asked Jesse, face scrunching up in a frown. "There were those Dark faeries who attacked him too, he’s not really safe here."
"Contrary to how he looks-"
"Hey!"
"Contrary to how he looks, Andrew is the Prince, and he’s in the heart of Night’s Circle. With the magic so close to hand, no one he doesn’t want to can touch him here," explained Keira.
Jesse eyed Andrew, as if he wasn’t terribly convinced by that, but Andrew just shrugged at him. What Keira said was true, but he supposed it was pretty hard to believe unless they saw it firsthand.
Justin turned to Emma. "Do you want to visit the Brightlands with me? It’s rather different. Much less mood-lighting than here, for one."
Emma looked intrigued but a little skeptical, to which Justin immediately crossed his heart, "I’ll keep you safe and unharmed, cross my heart, hope to die."
"Gee, that sure is comforting," said Emma, rolling her eyes.
"It should be comforting," said Keira, tapping her foot.
"What?"
Andrew tried to explain, "To faeries, verbal contracts that are witnessed by another party are as good as signed contracts in the human world."
"That’s why I stressed the ‘no talking around strange faeries’ rule," said Keira. "You’re perfectly safe with Justin. If he lets anything happen to you, his magic will start draining away enough until he compensates for breaking his word."
"That…sounds terrible," said Emma, making a face.
"Yeah," said Andrew morosely. "Try living like that in the human world."
"Alright, are we gonna stand around here yammering all day, or can we go already?" asked Justin, big hand gestures and all.
After Emma hugged both Andrew and Jesse, whispering something into Jesse’s ear that made him flush and stutter adorably, they all finally left the room. Andrew realized that Justin hadn’t offered to take Jesse along, and Jesse hadn’t protested being left behind, to which he was grateful to both of them. He really wouldn’t handle being abandoned by everyone very well, especially if it was Jesse doing the abandonment.
Keira gave Andrew’s shoulder a squeeze and left him with a final murmured, "You might only have one night left with him. Don’t waste it, cousin."
Which was frankly terrifying. He didn’t want to have just one night with Jesse. He was supposed to have as many more nights left with his friend as he liked. And was he so easy to read that Keira immediately knew about his- his feelings for Jesse? Light, did Jesse know?
While Andrew fidgeted beside his table, Jesse wandered around the room and trailed his fingers along the organic, living walls. The room really was an exact replica of Andrew’s old room. It was big, with a bed behind a curtained wall to one corner of the room, and a long table against the opposite wall. There were curved ornate chairs near the table, the curlicue pattern on their legs matching the ones scrawling across the top of the walls. There were books and scrolls in little cubbyholes all around the room, natural shelves embedded in the walls. When Andrew had been away, the Circle had closed away all the belongings he had left behind, kept them safe until he came back.
Stopping at the round window, Jesse touched the spherical bottles of moonlight hanging under Andrew’s window frame. They tinkled softly to his touch, and soft tendrils of moonlight within the glass swirled with the movement. Later, Andrew would stopper up one and take it to replace the one he had broken to subdue the Light faeries at Jesse’s apartment. For now, he just watched Jesse’s enchanted expression.
Jesse’s rapt attention was next turned to Andrew.
"Your wings, um," Jesse started, staring behind Andrew for awhile.
"It’s a bit weird, I know," said Andrew self-consciously.
Jesse shook his head. "No, they’re- They look amazing."
Andrew felt something uncurl within him, at the thought that Jesse had said that about his wings, and hadn’t even said anything close to that when Justin had showed off his fancy wings.
"Can I see them?" asked Jesse, his uncertainty melting away slowly, returning to the usual level of familiarity between them.
Andrew nodded, turning around so that Jesse could see his wings better. He felt Jesse come close, standing right behind him as he inspected the lowered black wings.
"Those black powdery things I found around my apartment sometimes, those were from your wings, weren’t they?"
Andrew’s wings flapped once, as if in acknowledgment to the attention being paid to them. "Yeah. They’re wing dust. Sorry about that, but sometimes, it just feels really good to stretch out my wings."
"How do you keep your wings hidden away? You walk around the apartment in a towel often enough," said Jesse in a strangely wry tone. "I never noticed any wings."
Jesse’s innate curiosity was showing up now after being pushed aside for so long for other more urgent matters. Andrew was always happy to satisfy that curiosity.
"I can show you. It’ll be easier than explaining. But I’ll have to take off my vest," said Andrew with a little shrug.
"Remember the thing I said less than twenty seconds ago about you walking around in a towel?" asked Jesse.
Feeling sufficiently mocked, Andrew unlaced the sides of his vest and slipped them off his bare arms.
He started curling and folding his wings, drawing them up instinctively to his back. They should be too big to fit, but his wings weren’t actually stiff butterfly wings. They curled in half, each wing drew close to the opposite shoulder until they lay almost flat against his skin and melded to his contours. The soft, slightly fuzzy sensation of the wings against his skin shivered into place until he slowly lost feeling to his wings. He knew that they would be fading into the color of his skin, the outline of the wings barely perceptible against his back.
With the whisper of magic against his back, an enchantment completely hid away even that faint shadow.
"Wow, that’s-" Jesse trailed off, at a lost for words.
Andrew looked over his shoulder. "Weird?"
"Amazing," said Jesse firmly, looking him in the eye. "You can let them out again, if it’s, uh, it’s more comfortable."
It was more comfortable. He didn’t feel pain from his wings being tucked away, but after having them concealed for a long time, it felt good to stretch them out. Like the prickling feeling of a cramp averted as blood flowed into the muscles again. He stretched his back, and let his wings uncurl from his back once again.
Unlike Justin’s and Keira’s wings, his weren’t held upright and splayed open. His wings stretched downwards, like a wasp’s wings, and was long enough that he had to hold them stiff to keep them from touching the ground. When he didn’t hold them ready, they dragged behind him on the ground, like a black, dramatic cape spouting from his back.
Andrew turned to face Jesse sheepishly. "I know it’s weird. All this happening, and you didn’t get any warning. You know I really didn’t plan to tell you this way."
"How were you planning to?" asked Jesse curiously.
Andrew scuffed the floor with his shoes. "Maybe with a diagram and all?"
Jesse smiled, flashing his dimples. "Yeah, that would have been a lot less frightening."
Stepping a little closer, Andrew squeezed Jesse’s elbow as he said, "I’m sorry for throwing this at you."
There was a brief moment of silence, whereby Andrew felt his stomach sink as he wondered if Jesse did feel like Andrew’s secrets had endangered him, and maybe after all the weeks where Andrew took advantage of Jesse’s hospitability, this would be the thing to tarnish their friendship.
"Andrew, coming here, riding on a deer, flying- It’s scary. I think I haven’t stopped being scared since those people broke in through my windows, and um, I’m still waiting to wake up in cold sweat from a very strange dream. But the thought of you coming here alone, and, and fighting to your death, that’s terrifying."
Andrew’s hand slid down from Jesse’s elbow to his hand, holding on tightly to Jesse’s slightly clammy palm. "I’m glad you’re here, Jesse. And I don’t want to, I really don’t want to fight. But I don’t want to stay. I don’t belong here."
Jesse bit his lower lip. "I hate that you might never come back, but I can’t- Just the thought of you fighting or- or having your wings-"
In the silver light, Jesse looked almost monochrome with how pale he turned. Andrew made a soft sound of distress and wrapped his arms around him.
"I’m sorry," whispered Andrew, unable to make any promises.
Jesse hugged him back, burying his face in Andrew’s shoulder. His soft curls tickled Andrew’s neck, and he breathed shallowly for a moment.
"You can’t die," whispered Jesse in return.
Then Andrew felt him turn his head, and he didn’t understand it at first, couldn’t quite parse the localized softness against his skin. But there was an exhalation of warm air, and he realized what he was feeling, that he was feeling the press of warm lips against his neck. Andrew gasped.
Jesse had kissed his neck.
He didn’t, he couldn’t be misunderstanding this. You didn’t kiss friends like this, not after what they had just been talking about. Fuck, he was just tired of trying to keep this under wraps, and what did he have to lose at this point, if he was walking to his death tomorrow?
When Andrew turned his head, it was like their lips just naturally slotted together. Heads tilted, their lips brushed together for a moment, before they both pressed closer, turning a chaste kiss into something infinitely more.
Andrew could only register heat, soft, wet. These were Jesse’s lips he was kissing. This was Jesse kissing him back.
He breathed in sharply through his nose, clutched Jesse closer to him as he felt Jesse’s hand curved tightly around his neck. They kissed, and kissed, mouths opening to engage in slick exploration, lips mouthed and sucked and bitten. There was no build up, just a sudden, all-consuming intensity, and a natural rightness to what they were doing.
When they finally pulled apart, they couldn’t seem to bear to go further than a few inches away from each other. Andrew’s eyes couldn’t stop dipping down to Jesse’s swollen and wet lips, feeling how his own parted lips were tight and almost-bruised.
"Andrew," Jesse whispered, and that was it, that snapped the remainder of Andrew’s tenuous self-control.
He pressed forward again, kissing Jesse hard, and Jesse responded. Oh, how he responded. His hands slid into Jesse’s curls, and Jesse pressed him closer by his shoulders and neck. Their mouths slid and slipped together so perfectly, that Andrew felt almost dizzy with pleasure. He could do this forever. He wanted to do this forever.
Except no, maybe he didn’t, because he could feel Jesse’s own enjoyment pressing up against his thigh, and it was enough to make him groan against those swollen, tempting lips. He realizes his own arousal was pushing against Jesse’s hip, and he couldn’t help but press closer.
Jesse pulled back with a gasp. "We need to-"
Oh no, if Jesse said they had to stop, this was a mistake, Andrew would just shatter-
"-move this to the bed," said Jesse, looking a little wild-eyed. "Can you, um, take this off?"
He pulled at Andrew’s trousers, hands shaking as he fumbled with the buttons. Andrew nodded, struck dumb with eagerness and happiness. He immediately undid his trousers, pushing down his underwear along with them.
"You too," he said breathlessly as he stepped out of his remaining clothes. "Take them off, let me."
He wasn’t making any sense, and Jesse wasn’t moving, was too busy staring. Andrew didn’t have the time to feel shy, he only knew he wanted Jesse to be naked now too, now, now, now. He pulled at the threadbare blue T-shirt until Jesse obligingly lifted his arms and allowed Andrew to strip the T-shirt off him unceremoniously. Then Andrew attacked Jesse’s trousers too.
They were both naked in a matter of seconds.
Jesse pulled at Andrew insistently, dragging them down onto the bed with Andrew on top of him. He saw Jesse make a face at him when he stared hungrily at all that exposed, pale skin, mouth watering as he wanted to trail his mouth down that flattened stomach to those jutting hipbones. But Jesse didn’t tolerate the scrutiny, squirmed against the sheets before pulling Andrew down for another one of those desperate kisses.
They devoured each other, breaking off to gasp for breath as they ran their hands along waists and hips and thighs, learning secret curves and corners and deriving pleasure from every murmured encouragement. Andrew rolled his hips against Jesse’s, moaning as he felt the answering erection press up desperately against his own.
He wasn’t going to last long, not like this. And he didn’t want to waste a single moment more.
He pulled away, and gasped out, "Fuck me. I want you to fuck me."
Jesse’s eyes were rims of pale blue around blown pupils, arousal written in every line on his face. "Andrew, I- You can’t just-"
He pulled Andrew down for another soul-crushing kiss, sucking harshly on his lower lip before pulling away. "Okay, okay, we need, where’s, what, what’s the faerie equivalent of lube?"
Andrew let out a snort of laughter, burying his face in Jesse’s shoulder.
"Yes, thank you, I really appreciate your laughing at me during sex," said Jesse, voice a wonderfully familiar wry tone.
"No, sorry, it’s just," Andrew mumbled against his skin, waving a hand in a non-explanation.
But Jesse got him. He always did.
"You’re telling me you don’t have a version of KY Jelly here? I’m not feeling all that impressed about this faerie business suddenly," continued Jesse.
Andrew let out another laugh, trying to smother himself in the pillow behind Jesse. But his insistent erection wasn’t going to be taken care of through jibes and wit, so Andrew pushed himself up on one arm and reached up to touch the woven wall behind the bed. He sent his intent quietly through the wood, and one of the branches woven into the wall unfurled itself with creaky swiftness.
Held in a loop of the branch was a stoppered bottle of oil, kept untouched all this while Andrew had been away. It was a good thing he had an adventurous youth. Andrew took it and turned back to Jesse who had also propped himself up on one elbow. Jesse took the bottle and shifted out from under Andrew. He gestured with the bottle, and Andrew lay back down on his front.
There was a moment of stillness, and then, he shivered when he felt Jesse touch the skin around his wings.
"Sensitive?" Jesse asked quietly.
"Yeah," whispered Andrew, burying his face in the pillow.
Jesse didn’t touch his wings, just trailed his fingers down his spine, along his sides, making Andrew move his hips impatiently against the bed. He heard a quiet huff of amusement at his impatience, before Jesse ran a finger along his balls instead.
"Fuck, Jesse." Andrew twitched uncontrollably.
"That’s the idea, I think," said Jesse, slicked fingers fluttering against Andrew’s hole now.
Andrew buried his face against the pillow, feeling his skin flush as he spread his legs further. He felt Jesse press one finger in, going slowly.
"I didn’t- I didn’t guess at all that you wanted this," murmured Jesse as he started moving the finger deeper. "From me."
"Almost right from the start. I’ve thought about being with you so much," whispered Andrew, like it was still a secret.
Two fingers now, enough to make Andrew squirm back towards Jesse and flex his wings gently.
He talked, to distract himself, "I didn’t know you- That you."
He groaned as Jesse added another finger, twisted all three inside him.
"It’s you, of course I did. I let you stay at my place, who else would I let do that?" said Jesse, planting a kiss at the corner of his hips.
Andrew said, "I wanted you so bad, all the time."
He started rocking back against Jesse’s fingers, moaning when they pressed against his prostate with every thrust.
"Look at you, I can’t believe you’re here, like this, I can’t, didn’t imagine," said Jesse, fingers stroking with every word.
"Jess, please, please, I can’t wait-"
The begging worked, because Jesse pulled his fingers out, pulled Andrew up on his knees.
"Wait, I don’t have- I don’t carry condoms-"
"Faeries- We don’t carry or transmit, I’m safe, please-"
"Andrew, I’m going to-"
"Please, Jess, please, oh, oh, fuck, Jess-"
Andrew bit down on his lip, arched his back as Jesse slid in, one smooth, stunning slide. His wings flared, and he had just the faintest presence of mine to stretch them out to the side to keep them out of Jesse’s way.
It wouldn’t do to knock Jesse out right this moment, Andrew thought hysterically.
He could feel the burning heat of Jesse’s fingers clenching on his hips, feel the immoveable hardness pressing deep within him.
Andrew choked out, "Move, please."
And Jesse moved. Jesse groaned and pulled out a little just to push back in again. He started thrusting, mouth running as his hips bore into Andrew.
"You feel, you’re amazing, Andrew, you’re so amazing, I can’t-"
Andrew arched his back, pushing back with gasps and moans of his own. Then Jesse leaned forward, kissing the spot between his shoulders, and the movement caused his cock to rub long and hard against Andrew’s prostate. Andrew almost collapsed on his face as he cried out.
Jesse continued pounding into him from that angle, sending jolts of pleasure through Andrew as he cried out continuously. He could already feel his erection bouncing against his stomach, leaking steadily and leaving a trail on his own skin and on his bed. He was already so close, so quickly.
He felt Jesse stroke up his side, either to soothe him or just to feel his skin. Jesse’s hand brushed against the back of his right wing by accident, and he shook with the pleasure of that touch.
It didn’t go unnoticed.
"Do you, is this good?" asked Jesse, rocking his hips in long, slow strokes as he drew along Andrew’s slightly fuzzy wings.
They arched shamelessly for Jesse’s touch, sending shuddering pleasure down Andrew’s spine.
"Oh Light, oh fuck," swore Andrew, tipping his head down and leaning his wings back for Jesse. "They’re not- They’re strong, not fragile."
They had never felt so sensitive, like they were thrilling notes of ecstasy, every minute inch straining for Jesse. He felt Jesse breathe against one tip, stroke his hand firmly against the underside of the other wing. He felt like he was going to die, pinned to the bed by Jesse’s hard cock, touched with so much care along his trembling wings.
"Jess, please, I have to," Andrew begged, shaking, out of control.
Jesse steadied his hips with one hand and fucked into him all that harder. The pleasure of that blunt head pounding into him so quickly and relentlessly caused Andrew to tighten all over, and he wasn’t going to-
A hand ran firmly down one wing, sending every nerve-ending into a shivering pleasure, and Andrew was coming. His hips snapped back towards Jesse, his body jerking in spasms of uncontrollable pleasure as his cock shot spurts of come all over his belly and bed. He shook and moaned as Jesse continued thrusting, milking the orgasm out of him. His muscles tightened, making it feel like Jesse was growing harder and bigger in him, and then he felt and heard Jesse come as well. Those hips moved faster, and Jesse cried out his name over and over again. It was almost over-stimulation, feeling Jesse shove into him, and his wings stretched as one of Jesse’s hands still clung onto his right wing.
Jesse shuddered behind him, triggering another shiver and clench from Andrew. They both moaned, before just collapsing flat onto the bed in a sprawl of wings and limbs.
"Ngh," Andrew complained, shifting his wings from under Jesse.
They moved around a little as they cleaned up their mess with the sheets before curling around each other, eyes drooping shut. Andrew’s dark wings stretched out over them, keeping Jesse close and warm.
# # # # # # # # # #
Andrew woke up again later, desperate not to waste a second. He explored his way down Jesse’s sharp hips, stroked his vulnerable thighs before moving closer to the center, palming the soft, quiescent cock.
Then he had sucked the soft flesh between his lips and relished the feel of Jesse’s cock hardening on his tongue, rolling his arousal between his lips. He had looked up through his lashes at Jesse slowly awakening, body stiffening everywhere as those hazy blue eyes took in the sight before him.
Andrew spread his wings behind him in pleasure, humming as Jesse stared back in amazement and pushed his hips up wantonly.
# # # # # # # # # #
They had slept again for awhile after the mutual blowjobs, before Andrew awakened this time to the touch of Jesse trailing his fingers over Andrew’s wings.
"I often found these scatterings of black dust in the oddest places," murmured Jesse, hot breath fluttering against Andrew’s black wings.
Andrew flexed under his soft touch. "They’re tiny, tiny scales, on my wings. I sometimes stretched them out when you weren’t in, and I shed sometimes when I haven’t unfolded my wings in awhile."
"How sensitive are they?" asked Jesse with an undercurrent of mischief, scratching lightly against the edge of one wing pressed against him.
Andrew moaned, pushed back. His wings tried to flare open, only half able to since he was on his side. Jesse scratched his fingers along the insides of his wings, near his shoulders, and Andrew thought he would die from pleasure, wished he could purr like Jesse’s cats to express his enjoyment.
Instead, he rolled onto his front, turning his head to face Jesse. He stretched out his wings, trembling from the toe-curling sensation of Jesse’s hands running softly over the dark scales.
His hips began undulating against his sheets as he groaned and was played expertly by Jesse.
# # # # # # # # # #
Later still, they lay on their sides, facing one another. Andrew’s wings were now limp against the bed, exhausted from the thrilling and pleasurable attention Jesse had paid to every inch of them.
Their bodies were beyond spent, muscles jellified from their multiple groping and copulations.
"What are you going to do tomorrow?" asked Jesse, eyes pale in the dark.
Andrew was quiet for awhile, before saying, "I’m not staying."
Jesse bit his lower lip. "What if you visited? Or I visited?"
"I can’t leave the Otherlands once I become Nightlands’ ruler. And humans visiting is unusual, it won’t be easy to get you in regularly," said Andrew, trying to push down his own resignation as he ran his hand idly through Jesse’s curls.
"How, um, how long will you have to be king?" asked Jesse.
Andrew stared at him. It wasn’t possible that Jesse would suggest that he would wait for Andrew to finish his time on the throne.
Andrew shook his head to stem any thoughts in that direction. "Thirty years is the minimum time. My father served his thirty years and is travelling the world with my mother now. I’m almost thirty, I can’t put this off any longer."
He didn’t say it, but he thought it; he couldn’t ask anyone to wait thirty years for him.
Jesse stared at him, meeting his eyes with painful honesty. "Andrew, I- I don’t want you to die, of course, but I don’t want you to be miserable for the rest of your life. This is- I don’t know what you should do."
Andrew reached forward and pulled Jesse closer, enfolding him in his arms. Jesse curled around him, hooking an ankle around Andrew’s and squeezing him back just as tightly.
"I don’t know either," said Andrew. "But I’m glad you’re here right now. I’m glad we, I’m just glad we had this."
Jesse hugged him tighter, but his voice wobbled when he said, "I’m more than glad."
Andrew buried his face in Jesse’s hair as he mumbled, "Being close to you always made me feel better."
"That’s because you’re a cuddle-whore," said Jesse, his own voice shaky and muffled against Andrew’s neck as he tried to make light of the situation.
"Only for you. I always had a weakness for reluctant, zombie-fighting heroes," quipped Andrew weakly.
They didn’t sleep that night.
# # # # # # # # # #
Part 3
Fic Title: Grant Us Wings (2/3)
Pairing: Jesse/Andrew
Genre: Urban fantasy
Word Count: ~13,000 words for Part 2 and 3
Rating: NC-17
Summary: A fairytale (literally) that involves love and heritage, the choices we make and the silliness that is Andrew and Jesse’s lives.
Note: Keira Knightley is a faerie and was never an actress in this story.
Hearts for elefante_locura who beta-ed this and ensured I don't sound like I'm drunk-writing! This was written for distracterisey's birthday. Sorry it took me so long, bb. ;__;
Part 1
Part 2
The highest chamber looked like it hadn’t changed in the years Andrew had been away. The room was a gnarled indoor garden, branches spouting from the Circle’s curved walls and branching into seats, perches, reclining benches. Vines and flowers had been coaxed to grow and bloom all year round, an explosion of lushness and color more intense than the natural, soft beauty out in the Circle’s Forest.
It was enough to give Andrew a headache.
A younger faerie standing by the side of the chamber hollered, "THE PRINCE HAS ARRIVED, ALONG WITH HIS PROTECTOR. GUESTS ARE THE YOUNG LIGHT, JUSTIN, AND THE PRINCE’S HUMAN GUESTS."
Andrew could almost feel Emma opening her mouth to make a snarky comment, but Justin elbowed her in the side and whispered, "Don’t say anything. Whatever you guys do, don’t say anything here."
There was no time for anymore cautions. Andrew knew his part to play and strode forward with conviction he didn’t feel. Keeping just a step behind him was Keira.
"Why have we not gotten rid of the herald yet?" grumbled an old faerie with long white hair tied into a waterfall of braids. "The day we rely on his voice instead of our own eyes is the day you can eject us old sods from the Wizens."
Andrew smiled at that. "Uncle Phineas, please leave poor Cain alone."
"He’s my grandson, I can suggest his retrenchment if I like," sniffed Phineas, arranging his braids fussily.
Everyone ignored the spluttering of Cain, the underappreciated herald.
"Wizens," said Andrew with a clear, ringing voice. "The Night Prince addresses you."
That was all the formality they needed. A few of the older, more traditional faerie relaxed their stiff spines, and settled into the loving arch of the branches from the walls. Some of the faerie simply reclined on the grassy ground of the chambers, watching Andrew with rapt gazes.
"Oh darling, it’s so good to see you!" cooed an older, curvy faerie, her pale blue translucent wings beating frantically in apparent delight. "I didn’t think you would ever come back, what changed your mind?"
"An assassination attempt, Janis. I don’t know if I have changed my mind yet, but I can’t stay away until I get this resolved," said Andrew with a shrug.
Janis’ wings slowed down. "How crass. These Light faeries, they really must be taught a lesson."
An irritated young faerie perched on an overhanging branch called out, "What’s that Light faerie doing here then?"
Justin sketched a mocking half-bow. "Justin, twelfth removed from the throne. I haven’t been back to the Otherlands for a few years, but surely the truce still holds? Has there been a change in laws on visiting faerie?"
"Regardless of the laws, it’s not like we want your kind in our highest chamber, among us Wizens," sneered the man, stretching out his huge, dark brown wings, revealing a symmetrical pattern that resembled huge owl eyes.
"Oh, don’t be tedious, Edward," snapped another faerie from across the room, crossing her legs as she shifted on an oversized mushroom. "Light faeries are good enough to bend you over a log for a quickie, but they aren’t good enough to breathe your same air in the high chambers?"
"You pollen-breathing, dew-swilling, fish-fucker!" snapped Edward in his fury.
Ah, Andrew was strongly reminded of the reasons why he hated being the Night prince. Having to hold court over a bunch of whiny bureaucrats everyday would drive him batty. How did politicians do this? Why would they even want to?
Keira said sharply, "Stop. Edward and Rooney, this is a shameful display."
Rooney looked away with a huff, and pretended not to feel chastised, while Edward sunk into a sullen, grumpy silence. Keira was always better at commandeering respect.
Andrew spoke up, "Justin is my guest. He came to protect me when he believed I was in danger, which proves his intentions. I welcome his attendance."
There was a murmur of discussion over this morsel of news, some pleased with the outcome, while others were disgruntled.
Another faerie that Andrew did not recognize, all wild dark hair and silver eyed with wispy, almost feathery gray wings, sat up from his nest of coiled branches and leaves. "Are you saying that Keira, your very own protector, didn’t come to your rescue? That you had to wait for a Light faerie to save you?"
"A spineless worm challenges my ability to protect the Prince?" asked Keira with snapping heat. "Do you want to test my skills in combat?"
"I’m not the royal protector, loyal guard dog. That’s hardly a fair fight," pointed out the other faerie, flipping his hand dismissively.
"Translation; Jon’s manhood does not measure up to Keira’s," murmured Rooney, blithely nibbling on the rose petals she plucked from a large, crimson bloom when Jon turned an angry glare at her.
For a brief moment, Andrew had a craving for the taste of rose petals, the sweetness edged with sharp bitterness. It had been a long time since he had any.
He pulled himself back to more pressing matters. "Keira protected me of course. These baseless accusations about her ability, something no one who knows her would doubt, are pointless and a waste of time." He said that last bit to Jon with a fair bit of irritation. "Justin came anyway to lend a hand, as he didn’t know the numbers that were sent against me."
Janis alighted to the ground and clutched her hands together. "Well, it’s all good that you’re back here regardless. You’ll be better protected back in Nightlands and no assassins would be able to get to you."
"I would feel safer if there hadn’t also been Dark faeries involved in the attack," said Andrew.
"What?" Janis asked, freezing.
"Dark faeries who were assaulting their own Prince," said Keira.
"Could this be a mistake?" asked Edward, leaning forward on his elbows.
"Do you doubt my ability to recognize our own kind?" Keira asked.
Andrew interrupted the oncoming posturing that could go on forever. "They were immune to pure moonlight, and resisted my command to sleep until I gained skin contact. That should be evidence enough."
He didn’t explain that they were still unconscious, and Keira had called for the other Protectors to come pick them up from Jesse’s apartment. Maybe a round of interrogation would reveal who they were working for, but Andrew wasn’t holding up much hope for that. He didn’t intend to tell the Wizens anymore though.
"They must be mad men, to attempt this attack," commented Thom, one of the remaining Wizens who had kept silent so far.
Andrew folded his arms in impatience. "Let’s not pretend to be dumb here. It’s obvious that there’s a power struggle in Nightlands as well, and my being gone would suit a few people here."
Jon spluttered, "You’re not really implying-"
Phineas interrupted, "Regardless of all the speculation, your being back resolves all these problems. It’s safer for you here."
Andrew clenched his hands into fists, fruitless anger with no real outlet. "What if I don’t want to take the throne?"
"Oh no, not this again," grumbled Rooney, powering down the remaining petals like they were popcorn.
Keira hissed, "Andrew, you don’t know what you’re-"
Jon called out, "Does the protector speak for the Prince now?"
"You cannot be serious!" fluttered Janis.
Phineas shouted above the outbreak of voices, "You know what this really means, Prince! The laws have not changed!"
The voices sank into unsettled silence.
"I know," said Andrew, trying to hold back a wince.
Phineas glared, "If you really knew, you wouldn’t suggest it. You are opening yourself up to a challenge for the throne, a fight to the death?"
"What?" Andrew heard Jesse speak up for the first time. "Wait, what?"
Keira stepped forward, standing very close to Andrew’s side and just half a step behind him, as if her looming presence was to say that anyone who dared to challenge him would have to fight her too.
"You know you have no say in this, Keira. You cannot fight this battle for the Prince," pointed out Edward, looking intrigued.
The Prince this, the Prince that. Andrew was getting thoroughly sick of being seen as only ‘the Prince’ after being back for all of fifteen minutes. It was like the name Andrew didn’t exist in any of their vocabulary.
Jon looked almost gleeful at this whole idea. He actually stood up and took a few paces forward. Andrew didn’t take it too personally, as he knew most Night faeries would turn up for a challenge to the death if it went ahead, the last one having being done a millennium ago.
Except Jon was clearly thinking about the other option, because he said, "Of course, the other way to abdicate the throne is to give up your wings, see if you survive them being ripped off your back. We would have to wait for the full moon, pin the wings to the entrance of the Circle-"
He could hear Jesse’s voice from behind him. "What the hell?"
Justin shushed him, "We’ll talk later, remember what I said."
"Damn what you said, he can’t be serious," hissed Emma.
"Andrew, what are you doing?" asked Jesse urgently.
Not happy to be interrupted, Jon’s silver eyes flickered to them. "Your humans look adorable, but are terribly untrained. Halt their tongues, or I’ll remove those flapping appendages."
Andrew felt the flicker of anger at being forced back to Nightlands flare to a red hot fury. "Don’t threaten my guests."
An older female faerie leaned down from her perch close to the ceiling. "I will take the curly-haired one. He looks like a puppy, and I’ve always wanted a pet human."
Without even realizing it, Andrew’s wings beat once, and light swirled around his hands. "Jesse is under my protection, and no one here will touch him as long as I live."
There was a moment of stunned silence. Andrew glared up at the petite faerie in anger, meeting her surprised gaze with an angry, determined stare.
"The same goes for the others," he added, when he realized what a claim he was making on Jesse alone.
The faeries continued to stare at him like he had lost his mind.
Justin clapped his hands once, breaking the silence. "Well then, your Prince has spoken. You’ve all heard him."
Andrew took a deep breath and turned to Phineas, his mother’s brother. "Uncle, is there no other way? By right -"
Phineas held up a hand. "It’s obviously been a stressful day for all, as you have just been attacked and now you’re back in Nightlands after years away. I suggest we all rest for the night before we convene again tomorrow evening."
"Agreed," piped up Rooney.
Edward watched Andrew. "Agreed. You need to cool your thoughts, Andrew."
For all that Edward clashed opinions with many in the room, he had always been kind to Andrew when Andrew was a child.
"Agreed," sighed Andrew.
"ONE PROPOSAL, THREE AGREEMENTS, SO WITNESSED," boomed out Herald Cain. "THE WIZENS WILL BREAK FOR THE NIGHT."
Phineas rolled his eyes. "Oh for God’s sake, we can count, Cain."
"Propriety, Phineas, there’s nothing wrong with it," sniffed Janis.
Andrew rubbed his forehead. Seriously, how was this his life? Why did he have to deal with this?
# # # # # # # # # #
Andrew and Keira led the others to a room that had grown into place during their meeting with the Wizens. It was situated right next to the Wizen’s chamber, and took up the rest of the space right at the very top of the Circle. The tightly woven branches and flowers had grown and stretched to form the large room in response to Andrew’s presence in the Circle, and he knew that it would look exactly the same as the room he had before he had left.
Unlike their initial trip into the Circle, Jesse and Emma were far less blown away by the surroundings. In fact, they didn’t seem to notice at all that the room hadn’t existed when they first flew up.
They were too angry to notice.
"What the fuck, Garfield," snapped Emma, rounding on him immediately.
Andrew didn’t meet her gaze, and he could feel his wings stretching back in defensiveness. "I’m the heir to the throne, it’s not something I can just turn down easily."
"But you never said you had to fight to the death for it! Or- Or tear out your wings," she said, hands thrown up in horror.
He saw Justin wince at her words, probably imagining the horror of having his own wings forcibly removed.
Jesse stepped closer, which made Andrew look at him immediately. "You- Why did you come back here? If you didn’t, you wouldn’t have to make this choice."
"It’s, well, I hate it, but it’s my responsibility. Maybe I could have run forever, if there wasn’t any threat to you, all of you, but it would have been cowardly. It wouldn’t have been fair," said Andrew, struggling for the right words.
"Because you’re the Prince. And the people need their Prince," said Jesse, staring at him with unreadable blue eyes.
Andrew shrugged, looking away. "The Wizens can’t rule indefinitely, and they would have been forced to make a decision to drag me back, or fall into a power struggle once I turned thirty years old. I’ve been irresponsible." He sighed. "I guess I can’t be irresponsible forever."
"So your only choices are to try to kill someone else in a battle to the death, or have your wings removed?" asked Emma, incredulous.
"Removed and see if he survives," said Keira quietly. "It’s a traumatic injury. It strips faeries of their magic."
Andrew sighed. "I was hoping to abdicate the throne without fuss. In the past, one of the heirs unrelated to the current line abdicated due to a prior claim to his life, because he had been promised away by his parents when he was a baby. The other party made a claim on the promise just before he took the throne."
"It was a very different case, Andrew," cut in Keira. "And there is no such claim on you."
It was true, but Andrew had been hoping to sort of just talk a lot, and make his case, and prayed for leniency or for the Wizens to disinherit him in disgust at his lack of Princely qualities.
"So it’s back to death by combat or death by wings destruction," said Emma in her typical blunt way.
Jesse said, his voice just as quiet, "Or you could stay. Be king."
"But he doesn’t want to stay," said Emma to Jesse.
"At least he would still be alive," pointed out Justin, wincing when Emma slapped him in the arm for his contribution.
"Only you could end up in a situation where becoming a king is a negative outcome," said Jesse in a huff, a poor attempt at his dry humor.
Andrew tried to tamp down on his sadness. "It’s very ‘poor little rich boy’ of me, but I have never wanted to be King."
That ended all conversation for awhile, an almost depressive cloud suffocating the lightness out of the room.
Justin finally spoke up, "Look, you guys need to talk. And really figure out what you want to do."
Keira eyed all of them. "What is there to do?"
"Just, talk. Alright? Talk about your feelings and all," ordered Justin, pointing at Andrew and making strangely crazy eyes at him. "I need to go back to Brightlands for the night, or my father will kill me for coming to Otherlands and not visiting him."
Keira nodded at him. "That’s a good decision. I’ll visit my father tonight."
"Wait, aren’t you Andrew’s, um, protector?" asked Jesse, face scrunching up in a frown. "There were those Dark faeries who attacked him too, he’s not really safe here."
"Contrary to how he looks-"
"Hey!"
"Contrary to how he looks, Andrew is the Prince, and he’s in the heart of Night’s Circle. With the magic so close to hand, no one he doesn’t want to can touch him here," explained Keira.
Jesse eyed Andrew, as if he wasn’t terribly convinced by that, but Andrew just shrugged at him. What Keira said was true, but he supposed it was pretty hard to believe unless they saw it firsthand.
Justin turned to Emma. "Do you want to visit the Brightlands with me? It’s rather different. Much less mood-lighting than here, for one."
Emma looked intrigued but a little skeptical, to which Justin immediately crossed his heart, "I’ll keep you safe and unharmed, cross my heart, hope to die."
"Gee, that sure is comforting," said Emma, rolling her eyes.
"It should be comforting," said Keira, tapping her foot.
"What?"
Andrew tried to explain, "To faeries, verbal contracts that are witnessed by another party are as good as signed contracts in the human world."
"That’s why I stressed the ‘no talking around strange faeries’ rule," said Keira. "You’re perfectly safe with Justin. If he lets anything happen to you, his magic will start draining away enough until he compensates for breaking his word."
"That…sounds terrible," said Emma, making a face.
"Yeah," said Andrew morosely. "Try living like that in the human world."
"Alright, are we gonna stand around here yammering all day, or can we go already?" asked Justin, big hand gestures and all.
After Emma hugged both Andrew and Jesse, whispering something into Jesse’s ear that made him flush and stutter adorably, they all finally left the room. Andrew realized that Justin hadn’t offered to take Jesse along, and Jesse hadn’t protested being left behind, to which he was grateful to both of them. He really wouldn’t handle being abandoned by everyone very well, especially if it was Jesse doing the abandonment.
Keira gave Andrew’s shoulder a squeeze and left him with a final murmured, "You might only have one night left with him. Don’t waste it, cousin."
Which was frankly terrifying. He didn’t want to have just one night with Jesse. He was supposed to have as many more nights left with his friend as he liked. And was he so easy to read that Keira immediately knew about his- his feelings for Jesse? Light, did Jesse know?
While Andrew fidgeted beside his table, Jesse wandered around the room and trailed his fingers along the organic, living walls. The room really was an exact replica of Andrew’s old room. It was big, with a bed behind a curtained wall to one corner of the room, and a long table against the opposite wall. There were curved ornate chairs near the table, the curlicue pattern on their legs matching the ones scrawling across the top of the walls. There were books and scrolls in little cubbyholes all around the room, natural shelves embedded in the walls. When Andrew had been away, the Circle had closed away all the belongings he had left behind, kept them safe until he came back.
Stopping at the round window, Jesse touched the spherical bottles of moonlight hanging under Andrew’s window frame. They tinkled softly to his touch, and soft tendrils of moonlight within the glass swirled with the movement. Later, Andrew would stopper up one and take it to replace the one he had broken to subdue the Light faeries at Jesse’s apartment. For now, he just watched Jesse’s enchanted expression.
Jesse’s rapt attention was next turned to Andrew.
"Your wings, um," Jesse started, staring behind Andrew for awhile.
"It’s a bit weird, I know," said Andrew self-consciously.
Jesse shook his head. "No, they’re- They look amazing."
Andrew felt something uncurl within him, at the thought that Jesse had said that about his wings, and hadn’t even said anything close to that when Justin had showed off his fancy wings.
"Can I see them?" asked Jesse, his uncertainty melting away slowly, returning to the usual level of familiarity between them.
Andrew nodded, turning around so that Jesse could see his wings better. He felt Jesse come close, standing right behind him as he inspected the lowered black wings.
"Those black powdery things I found around my apartment sometimes, those were from your wings, weren’t they?"
Andrew’s wings flapped once, as if in acknowledgment to the attention being paid to them. "Yeah. They’re wing dust. Sorry about that, but sometimes, it just feels really good to stretch out my wings."
"How do you keep your wings hidden away? You walk around the apartment in a towel often enough," said Jesse in a strangely wry tone. "I never noticed any wings."
Jesse’s innate curiosity was showing up now after being pushed aside for so long for other more urgent matters. Andrew was always happy to satisfy that curiosity.
"I can show you. It’ll be easier than explaining. But I’ll have to take off my vest," said Andrew with a little shrug.
"Remember the thing I said less than twenty seconds ago about you walking around in a towel?" asked Jesse.
Feeling sufficiently mocked, Andrew unlaced the sides of his vest and slipped them off his bare arms.
He started curling and folding his wings, drawing them up instinctively to his back. They should be too big to fit, but his wings weren’t actually stiff butterfly wings. They curled in half, each wing drew close to the opposite shoulder until they lay almost flat against his skin and melded to his contours. The soft, slightly fuzzy sensation of the wings against his skin shivered into place until he slowly lost feeling to his wings. He knew that they would be fading into the color of his skin, the outline of the wings barely perceptible against his back.
With the whisper of magic against his back, an enchantment completely hid away even that faint shadow.
"Wow, that’s-" Jesse trailed off, at a lost for words.
Andrew looked over his shoulder. "Weird?"
"Amazing," said Jesse firmly, looking him in the eye. "You can let them out again, if it’s, uh, it’s more comfortable."
It was more comfortable. He didn’t feel pain from his wings being tucked away, but after having them concealed for a long time, it felt good to stretch them out. Like the prickling feeling of a cramp averted as blood flowed into the muscles again. He stretched his back, and let his wings uncurl from his back once again.
Unlike Justin’s and Keira’s wings, his weren’t held upright and splayed open. His wings stretched downwards, like a wasp’s wings, and was long enough that he had to hold them stiff to keep them from touching the ground. When he didn’t hold them ready, they dragged behind him on the ground, like a black, dramatic cape spouting from his back.
Andrew turned to face Jesse sheepishly. "I know it’s weird. All this happening, and you didn’t get any warning. You know I really didn’t plan to tell you this way."
"How were you planning to?" asked Jesse curiously.
Andrew scuffed the floor with his shoes. "Maybe with a diagram and all?"
Jesse smiled, flashing his dimples. "Yeah, that would have been a lot less frightening."
Stepping a little closer, Andrew squeezed Jesse’s elbow as he said, "I’m sorry for throwing this at you."
There was a brief moment of silence, whereby Andrew felt his stomach sink as he wondered if Jesse did feel like Andrew’s secrets had endangered him, and maybe after all the weeks where Andrew took advantage of Jesse’s hospitability, this would be the thing to tarnish their friendship.
"Andrew, coming here, riding on a deer, flying- It’s scary. I think I haven’t stopped being scared since those people broke in through my windows, and um, I’m still waiting to wake up in cold sweat from a very strange dream. But the thought of you coming here alone, and, and fighting to your death, that’s terrifying."
Andrew’s hand slid down from Jesse’s elbow to his hand, holding on tightly to Jesse’s slightly clammy palm. "I’m glad you’re here, Jesse. And I don’t want to, I really don’t want to fight. But I don’t want to stay. I don’t belong here."
Jesse bit his lower lip. "I hate that you might never come back, but I can’t- Just the thought of you fighting or- or having your wings-"
In the silver light, Jesse looked almost monochrome with how pale he turned. Andrew made a soft sound of distress and wrapped his arms around him.
"I’m sorry," whispered Andrew, unable to make any promises.
Jesse hugged him back, burying his face in Andrew’s shoulder. His soft curls tickled Andrew’s neck, and he breathed shallowly for a moment.
"You can’t die," whispered Jesse in return.
Then Andrew felt him turn his head, and he didn’t understand it at first, couldn’t quite parse the localized softness against his skin. But there was an exhalation of warm air, and he realized what he was feeling, that he was feeling the press of warm lips against his neck. Andrew gasped.
Jesse had kissed his neck.
He didn’t, he couldn’t be misunderstanding this. You didn’t kiss friends like this, not after what they had just been talking about. Fuck, he was just tired of trying to keep this under wraps, and what did he have to lose at this point, if he was walking to his death tomorrow?
When Andrew turned his head, it was like their lips just naturally slotted together. Heads tilted, their lips brushed together for a moment, before they both pressed closer, turning a chaste kiss into something infinitely more.
Andrew could only register heat, soft, wet. These were Jesse’s lips he was kissing. This was Jesse kissing him back.
He breathed in sharply through his nose, clutched Jesse closer to him as he felt Jesse’s hand curved tightly around his neck. They kissed, and kissed, mouths opening to engage in slick exploration, lips mouthed and sucked and bitten. There was no build up, just a sudden, all-consuming intensity, and a natural rightness to what they were doing.
When they finally pulled apart, they couldn’t seem to bear to go further than a few inches away from each other. Andrew’s eyes couldn’t stop dipping down to Jesse’s swollen and wet lips, feeling how his own parted lips were tight and almost-bruised.
"Andrew," Jesse whispered, and that was it, that snapped the remainder of Andrew’s tenuous self-control.
He pressed forward again, kissing Jesse hard, and Jesse responded. Oh, how he responded. His hands slid into Jesse’s curls, and Jesse pressed him closer by his shoulders and neck. Their mouths slid and slipped together so perfectly, that Andrew felt almost dizzy with pleasure. He could do this forever. He wanted to do this forever.
Except no, maybe he didn’t, because he could feel Jesse’s own enjoyment pressing up against his thigh, and it was enough to make him groan against those swollen, tempting lips. He realizes his own arousal was pushing against Jesse’s hip, and he couldn’t help but press closer.
Jesse pulled back with a gasp. "We need to-"
Oh no, if Jesse said they had to stop, this was a mistake, Andrew would just shatter-
"-move this to the bed," said Jesse, looking a little wild-eyed. "Can you, um, take this off?"
He pulled at Andrew’s trousers, hands shaking as he fumbled with the buttons. Andrew nodded, struck dumb with eagerness and happiness. He immediately undid his trousers, pushing down his underwear along with them.
"You too," he said breathlessly as he stepped out of his remaining clothes. "Take them off, let me."
He wasn’t making any sense, and Jesse wasn’t moving, was too busy staring. Andrew didn’t have the time to feel shy, he only knew he wanted Jesse to be naked now too, now, now, now. He pulled at the threadbare blue T-shirt until Jesse obligingly lifted his arms and allowed Andrew to strip the T-shirt off him unceremoniously. Then Andrew attacked Jesse’s trousers too.
They were both naked in a matter of seconds.
Jesse pulled at Andrew insistently, dragging them down onto the bed with Andrew on top of him. He saw Jesse make a face at him when he stared hungrily at all that exposed, pale skin, mouth watering as he wanted to trail his mouth down that flattened stomach to those jutting hipbones. But Jesse didn’t tolerate the scrutiny, squirmed against the sheets before pulling Andrew down for another one of those desperate kisses.
They devoured each other, breaking off to gasp for breath as they ran their hands along waists and hips and thighs, learning secret curves and corners and deriving pleasure from every murmured encouragement. Andrew rolled his hips against Jesse’s, moaning as he felt the answering erection press up desperately against his own.
He wasn’t going to last long, not like this. And he didn’t want to waste a single moment more.
He pulled away, and gasped out, "Fuck me. I want you to fuck me."
Jesse’s eyes were rims of pale blue around blown pupils, arousal written in every line on his face. "Andrew, I- You can’t just-"
He pulled Andrew down for another soul-crushing kiss, sucking harshly on his lower lip before pulling away. "Okay, okay, we need, where’s, what, what’s the faerie equivalent of lube?"
Andrew let out a snort of laughter, burying his face in Jesse’s shoulder.
"Yes, thank you, I really appreciate your laughing at me during sex," said Jesse, voice a wonderfully familiar wry tone.
"No, sorry, it’s just," Andrew mumbled against his skin, waving a hand in a non-explanation.
But Jesse got him. He always did.
"You’re telling me you don’t have a version of KY Jelly here? I’m not feeling all that impressed about this faerie business suddenly," continued Jesse.
Andrew let out another laugh, trying to smother himself in the pillow behind Jesse. But his insistent erection wasn’t going to be taken care of through jibes and wit, so Andrew pushed himself up on one arm and reached up to touch the woven wall behind the bed. He sent his intent quietly through the wood, and one of the branches woven into the wall unfurled itself with creaky swiftness.
Held in a loop of the branch was a stoppered bottle of oil, kept untouched all this while Andrew had been away. It was a good thing he had an adventurous youth. Andrew took it and turned back to Jesse who had also propped himself up on one elbow. Jesse took the bottle and shifted out from under Andrew. He gestured with the bottle, and Andrew lay back down on his front.
There was a moment of stillness, and then, he shivered when he felt Jesse touch the skin around his wings.
"Sensitive?" Jesse asked quietly.
"Yeah," whispered Andrew, burying his face in the pillow.
Jesse didn’t touch his wings, just trailed his fingers down his spine, along his sides, making Andrew move his hips impatiently against the bed. He heard a quiet huff of amusement at his impatience, before Jesse ran a finger along his balls instead.
"Fuck, Jesse." Andrew twitched uncontrollably.
"That’s the idea, I think," said Jesse, slicked fingers fluttering against Andrew’s hole now.
Andrew buried his face against the pillow, feeling his skin flush as he spread his legs further. He felt Jesse press one finger in, going slowly.
"I didn’t- I didn’t guess at all that you wanted this," murmured Jesse as he started moving the finger deeper. "From me."
"Almost right from the start. I’ve thought about being with you so much," whispered Andrew, like it was still a secret.
Two fingers now, enough to make Andrew squirm back towards Jesse and flex his wings gently.
He talked, to distract himself, "I didn’t know you- That you."
He groaned as Jesse added another finger, twisted all three inside him.
"It’s you, of course I did. I let you stay at my place, who else would I let do that?" said Jesse, planting a kiss at the corner of his hips.
Andrew said, "I wanted you so bad, all the time."
He started rocking back against Jesse’s fingers, moaning when they pressed against his prostate with every thrust.
"Look at you, I can’t believe you’re here, like this, I can’t, didn’t imagine," said Jesse, fingers stroking with every word.
"Jess, please, please, I can’t wait-"
The begging worked, because Jesse pulled his fingers out, pulled Andrew up on his knees.
"Wait, I don’t have- I don’t carry condoms-"
"Faeries- We don’t carry or transmit, I’m safe, please-"
"Andrew, I’m going to-"
"Please, Jess, please, oh, oh, fuck, Jess-"
Andrew bit down on his lip, arched his back as Jesse slid in, one smooth, stunning slide. His wings flared, and he had just the faintest presence of mine to stretch them out to the side to keep them out of Jesse’s way.
It wouldn’t do to knock Jesse out right this moment, Andrew thought hysterically.
He could feel the burning heat of Jesse’s fingers clenching on his hips, feel the immoveable hardness pressing deep within him.
Andrew choked out, "Move, please."
And Jesse moved. Jesse groaned and pulled out a little just to push back in again. He started thrusting, mouth running as his hips bore into Andrew.
"You feel, you’re amazing, Andrew, you’re so amazing, I can’t-"
Andrew arched his back, pushing back with gasps and moans of his own. Then Jesse leaned forward, kissing the spot between his shoulders, and the movement caused his cock to rub long and hard against Andrew’s prostate. Andrew almost collapsed on his face as he cried out.
Jesse continued pounding into him from that angle, sending jolts of pleasure through Andrew as he cried out continuously. He could already feel his erection bouncing against his stomach, leaking steadily and leaving a trail on his own skin and on his bed. He was already so close, so quickly.
He felt Jesse stroke up his side, either to soothe him or just to feel his skin. Jesse’s hand brushed against the back of his right wing by accident, and he shook with the pleasure of that touch.
It didn’t go unnoticed.
"Do you, is this good?" asked Jesse, rocking his hips in long, slow strokes as he drew along Andrew’s slightly fuzzy wings.
They arched shamelessly for Jesse’s touch, sending shuddering pleasure down Andrew’s spine.
"Oh Light, oh fuck," swore Andrew, tipping his head down and leaning his wings back for Jesse. "They’re not- They’re strong, not fragile."
They had never felt so sensitive, like they were thrilling notes of ecstasy, every minute inch straining for Jesse. He felt Jesse breathe against one tip, stroke his hand firmly against the underside of the other wing. He felt like he was going to die, pinned to the bed by Jesse’s hard cock, touched with so much care along his trembling wings.
"Jess, please, I have to," Andrew begged, shaking, out of control.
Jesse steadied his hips with one hand and fucked into him all that harder. The pleasure of that blunt head pounding into him so quickly and relentlessly caused Andrew to tighten all over, and he wasn’t going to-
A hand ran firmly down one wing, sending every nerve-ending into a shivering pleasure, and Andrew was coming. His hips snapped back towards Jesse, his body jerking in spasms of uncontrollable pleasure as his cock shot spurts of come all over his belly and bed. He shook and moaned as Jesse continued thrusting, milking the orgasm out of him. His muscles tightened, making it feel like Jesse was growing harder and bigger in him, and then he felt and heard Jesse come as well. Those hips moved faster, and Jesse cried out his name over and over again. It was almost over-stimulation, feeling Jesse shove into him, and his wings stretched as one of Jesse’s hands still clung onto his right wing.
Jesse shuddered behind him, triggering another shiver and clench from Andrew. They both moaned, before just collapsing flat onto the bed in a sprawl of wings and limbs.
"Ngh," Andrew complained, shifting his wings from under Jesse.
They moved around a little as they cleaned up their mess with the sheets before curling around each other, eyes drooping shut. Andrew’s dark wings stretched out over them, keeping Jesse close and warm.
# # # # # # # # # #
Andrew woke up again later, desperate not to waste a second. He explored his way down Jesse’s sharp hips, stroked his vulnerable thighs before moving closer to the center, palming the soft, quiescent cock.
Then he had sucked the soft flesh between his lips and relished the feel of Jesse’s cock hardening on his tongue, rolling his arousal between his lips. He had looked up through his lashes at Jesse slowly awakening, body stiffening everywhere as those hazy blue eyes took in the sight before him.
Andrew spread his wings behind him in pleasure, humming as Jesse stared back in amazement and pushed his hips up wantonly.
# # # # # # # # # #
They had slept again for awhile after the mutual blowjobs, before Andrew awakened this time to the touch of Jesse trailing his fingers over Andrew’s wings.
"I often found these scatterings of black dust in the oddest places," murmured Jesse, hot breath fluttering against Andrew’s black wings.
Andrew flexed under his soft touch. "They’re tiny, tiny scales, on my wings. I sometimes stretched them out when you weren’t in, and I shed sometimes when I haven’t unfolded my wings in awhile."
"How sensitive are they?" asked Jesse with an undercurrent of mischief, scratching lightly against the edge of one wing pressed against him.
Andrew moaned, pushed back. His wings tried to flare open, only half able to since he was on his side. Jesse scratched his fingers along the insides of his wings, near his shoulders, and Andrew thought he would die from pleasure, wished he could purr like Jesse’s cats to express his enjoyment.
Instead, he rolled onto his front, turning his head to face Jesse. He stretched out his wings, trembling from the toe-curling sensation of Jesse’s hands running softly over the dark scales.
His hips began undulating against his sheets as he groaned and was played expertly by Jesse.
# # # # # # # # # #
Later still, they lay on their sides, facing one another. Andrew’s wings were now limp against the bed, exhausted from the thrilling and pleasurable attention Jesse had paid to every inch of them.
Their bodies were beyond spent, muscles jellified from their multiple groping and copulations.
"What are you going to do tomorrow?" asked Jesse, eyes pale in the dark.
Andrew was quiet for awhile, before saying, "I’m not staying."
Jesse bit his lower lip. "What if you visited? Or I visited?"
"I can’t leave the Otherlands once I become Nightlands’ ruler. And humans visiting is unusual, it won’t be easy to get you in regularly," said Andrew, trying to push down his own resignation as he ran his hand idly through Jesse’s curls.
"How, um, how long will you have to be king?" asked Jesse.
Andrew stared at him. It wasn’t possible that Jesse would suggest that he would wait for Andrew to finish his time on the throne.
Andrew shook his head to stem any thoughts in that direction. "Thirty years is the minimum time. My father served his thirty years and is travelling the world with my mother now. I’m almost thirty, I can’t put this off any longer."
He didn’t say it, but he thought it; he couldn’t ask anyone to wait thirty years for him.
Jesse stared at him, meeting his eyes with painful honesty. "Andrew, I- I don’t want you to die, of course, but I don’t want you to be miserable for the rest of your life. This is- I don’t know what you should do."
Andrew reached forward and pulled Jesse closer, enfolding him in his arms. Jesse curled around him, hooking an ankle around Andrew’s and squeezing him back just as tightly.
"I don’t know either," said Andrew. "But I’m glad you’re here right now. I’m glad we, I’m just glad we had this."
Jesse hugged him tighter, but his voice wobbled when he said, "I’m more than glad."
Andrew buried his face in Jesse’s hair as he mumbled, "Being close to you always made me feel better."
"That’s because you’re a cuddle-whore," said Jesse, his own voice shaky and muffled against Andrew’s neck as he tried to make light of the situation.
"Only for you. I always had a weakness for reluctant, zombie-fighting heroes," quipped Andrew weakly.
They didn’t sleep that night.
# # # # # # # # # #
Part 3