Key to Freedom~ [5/??]
Title: Key to Freedom
Chapter: 5
Rating: PG-13 so far, but will be NC-17 later on.
Pairing: TomxBill
Genre: AU, wing fic, romance, angst, drama, fantasy, hurt/comfort
Summary: Two boys who live different lives, one caged in a house, the other wandering through his life. Lives of running away but never feeling free, with one surprising thing in common.
Bill could never have mentally prepared himself for what he saw.
All these years his parents had told him that he was alone in the world, a caged monster with no allies. Yet the sight before him told a different story. There were more of his kind, he knew it. If this dreadlocked boy wasn’t aware of the fact that he was a “species” then Bill didn’t understand how he could have survived this long. Bill had only made it because he was locked up and fed, kept alive just because his parents didn’t want to deal with his dead body and the wings that would obviously come with it. They didn’t make coffins that fit them.
Despite the millions of thoughts that could have been shooting through his mind at the moment only one stood out from the rest. Were they real?
Bill was in shock, his body stiff with wide, unblinking eyes and a gaping jaw. The black-haired teen slowly stepped forward, not aware of his movements as his mind was still frozen in bewilderment, hope, and longing.
His hope and longing were given their answer as a pale, black and white clawed hand reached up to brush across the soft down layer of beige feathers. A second hand came up to cup the long bone, which extended its impressive wingspan fully as the digits whimsically felt their way over angular joints. He looked like a child exploring the remains of a long forgotten tree house with unwavering fascination.
No sooner had he confirmed they were real, then his arms were tightly tucked around Tom’s torso, clinging desperately like the Winged would simply fly away and laugh at him, as if everything was a cruel joke. His darkly framed face was buried in Tom’s shoulder, a failed attempt at hiding his glistening tears and wide smile. He’d finally found someone. He wasn’t alone.
Tom felt a little awkward in this situation, after all, wouldn’t you? He didn’t so much mind the shock, he’d expected it, but the hugging and something akin to nuzzling was not on his list of possible reactions. His expression was very unsure, contemplating how he was supposed to respond to these unforeseen actions.
After a few moments of thought he finally wrapped his own arms loosely around Bill’s shaking waist but he didn’t know if the quivering was from laughter or tears. The dreadhead hesitantly rubbed the other’s back, still watching Bill with a very odd look.
Tom didn’t say or do anything but the easy circular motions for minutes that felt more like hours. However, the dreadlocked teen didn’t feel as odd about it once the first minute or so had passed.
Eventually, Bill knew he had to move back from the near stranger. He stopped a step away, arms still around his companion but became just one limb as a delicate looking hand lifted to wipe away the droplets of water adorning flushed cheeks. The darker Winged smiled at Tom, thinking he didn’t understand just how much all of this meant to him.
“I’m sorry,” he sniffed again, “I didn’t mean to surprise you like that. It’s just…” His eyes were downcast but even in the sorrowful nature of his thoughts there was no chance in hell of getting that smile off his lips.
“I thought I was completely alone. My parents always treated me like I was some kind of disgusting monster…”
Tom had heard of parents not knowing of their linage and doing horrible things to Winged children, even going as far as to brutally hack off their wings. It was no different from cutting off a child’s legs or arms.
On impulse, Tom’s arms gently wrapped around Bill again, drawing his small frame into a comforting embrace. He didn’t mean for it to be especially affectionate, it wasn’t like Bill was a girl, but he sympathized with the other. What had happened to Bill was the very fear that drove Tom from his family and home at sixteen, as soon as he could get a job to support himself.
Bill sank into the warm circling of limbs, knowing exactly what emotions were meant to be portrayed by the comforting gesture. The dark-haired teen didn’t want to let go. Physical contact was something he’d been deprived of for so many years that being given another taste of touch was almost overwhelming. It wasn’t something any human was supposed to be starved of.
Tom couldn’t understand why he felt so perfectly at ease in the other’s arms, not when this “other” was a bisexual male whose looks couldn’t be matched by any woman in the town. This was far too weird for Tom’s liking and he pulled back, ignoring the twinge of reluctance yanking at him.
Despite being the one to move away he had nothing to say and no idea about what to do. He was saved when Bill opened his mouth instead, trying to sound light hearted about it.
“Sorry, I’m a bit clingy. Six years of loneliness can do that to you I guess,” The quiet chuckle that came after didn’t make the statement any happier, not when Tom’s face dropped and paled at the new information.
“S-six years…?” His gut twisted, imagining how it would have felt but he could tell that just imagination was nothing in comparison to the real thing. His only reply from Bill was a small nod.
“Do…you want to stay for dinner? I don’t have much, but we can share the cake.” Bill looked over to the side table where the parcel still sat.
Tom was just about to reply with a quick yes when he realized that the two were still standing within each other’s arms. The dreadhead swallowed a small lump that had been gathering in his throat and stepped back, nervously rubbing his palms on his jeans. Usually it would have been his shirt, if he had been wearing one.
“S-sure,” After all the trouble he’d gone through the night before, at work, and even right here there was no way he was turning down a free meal.
Bill’s smile was beautifully radiant as he looked directly into Tom’s hazel eyes with equally shining, chocolate orbs. It was his first time with real, face-to-face human company in 6 years. His parents hadn’t even seen him one last time before they shipped him off with some shady, black-suited man to the airport.
Tom’s stomach flipped when that smile was directed at him. Just another thing to ignore. He knew it wasn’t from anticipation of food.
Bill stared, beaming at Tom for a moment before he shyly turned away and walked down the little hallway into the average-sized kitchen. Tom picked up the cake on his way and ignored the fact that he was topless, putting clothes back on meant constricting his wings and that was certainly not something he wanted to do right now.
The dreadhead observed his surroundings quietly as Bill started shuffling around the room, leaving Tom to take up a chair at the island in the middle. Neither said much until the darker-haired boy had finally gathered all of his ingredients. Having a guest for the first time meant cooking the finest of what he had and he was best at pasta dishes.
“Umm, do you like pasta? I have a few sauces you can choose,” He seemed extremely nervous and fumbled with one of the jars, holding it up to show it was Alfredo. Tom perked up at the mention of pasta.
“I love it!” He nodded excitedly at the bottle of Alfredo and Bill blushed before smiling to himself and putting away the things he wouldn’t need.
“Do you want chicken in it? I was going to have some for dinner so it’s already thawed…”
Tom’s enthusiastic response encouraged him.
“Sounds good to me.” The dreadhead was grinning, feeling more energized and less awkward now that they were having a normal conversation. It did help that one of his favorite foods was going to be fed to his grumbling stomach.
Bill hid his flushed face and wide smile from Tom as he got to work. It was easy to conceal considering the layout of the kitchen let him move with his back to the other Winged. A comfortable silence settled over the pair and Tom watched as Bill prepared the food. Every so often the feeling of eyes on his back would make his feathers ruffle and a little chill tickle up his spine.
It wasn’t long before a bowl of steaming chicken Alfredo was placed in front of him along with a fork, spoon and knife. He glanced up, waiting for Bill to sit down before he dove into the meal. The noir seemed to be waiting for Tom to take the first bite and give his critique, something that Tom was all too happy to oblige to.
Tom’s fork stabbed through a generously sized slice of grilled chicken coated in Alfredo sauce, then twirled between expert fingers before lifting to the visibly watering mouth. As soon as the tasty forkful met Tom’s taste buds there was no holding back the very verbal moan that escaped his lips. Slowly and almost sensually, relishing in the flavour, the dreadlocked boy chewed and swallowed. His eyes closed and a heavenly feeling took over his body. He’d expected something good from the way Bill seemed to know exactly what he was doing, but not this wonderful onslaught of tasteful sensations.
Bill seemed to have gained a whole new level of confidence and glee as the black-haired teen began eating his own portion. It was a good thing he’d made the entire bottle and lots of linguini since Tom wanted seconds, even thirds. Bill had small seconds and deemed himself full, encouraging the other to eat as much as he liked. It was the least he could do.
There weren’t any real conversations during the meal except for the occasional “What spice did you use?” or “This is a really nice house.” from Tom. They didn’t cut into the cake like they’d planned because after consuming that much pasta both were completely full.
It was late when they’d finally finished and Tom knew he had to go back to his place soon, there was work early tomorrow for him. The dreadhead was bothered by his reluctance to leave but once again chose to ignore it for now and think later, something he was having to do a lot lately. He fidgeted for a moment, his wings fluffing slightly, feeling bad about eating and then suddenly running off.
“Umm, I should really get going. I have work tomorrow,” He wouldn’t look up to meet those heart-melting brown orbs and instead found his lap very interesting all of a sudden.
Despite his discomfort Bill simply smiled and understood. Having this precious secret revealed to him and then being complimented so highly on his cooking skills was more than enough to suffice with his expectations of this encounter, more than the noir ever could have expected.
“It’s alright, I understand. You have no idea how much I appreciate all of this…” His feminine features softened and his expression showed the pure joy he held for all of the things that had happened over the last twenty-four hours.
Bill stood first, leading Tom out to the front door and watched him rebind his wings while the fractionally taller of the two nervously nibbled at his lip.
He wanted to know more about the dreadlocked boy, not understanding anything of the outside world. Having someone like Tom to educate him and confide in was all he wanted. However, it wasn’t something he could just outright ask of the other since he knew the tanned teen had a life to take care of.
After Tom had straightened himself out and was fully clothed once more there was an unsettling feeling bubbling in the pit of his stomach, as if his body was telling him he didn’t want to leave, whether his brain decided to or not. Tom swallowed the lump in his throat again and hoisted his pants up before finally figuring out what to say.
“If you ever, uh, want me to come by again, just do the same thing as today.”
Bill tilted his head with a quirked eyebrow. “You mean make chicken Alfredo?”
Tom smiled, playing with his tongue ring, and glanced at his feet for a second before looking back into dark pupils.
“That’d be nice, but I was talking about ordering something from Danica’s for seven.”
It was Bill’s turn to look at his socked feet while flushing a soft pink. “Oh…”
The dreadhead just chuckled, feeling a little more in control of the situation.
“So, will you?” He leant down a bit to try and catch the noir’s eye with a charming smirk on his pierced lips.
“Yeah, I will soon.” It seemed that Tom’s smile was contagious as it lit up the darker-haired boy’s face.
Tom stepped toward the door and reached out to the brass handle but then had second thoughts. He looked up at the other with an expression of confusion, like he was trying to figure something out.
“I really enjoyed myself.” It wasn’t something he said characteristically but it suited the situation just fine and all of his doubts were washed away as that brilliant smile returned.
A short nod and a grinning reassurance were the last things they saw of each other that night.
Chapter: 5
Rating: PG-13 so far, but will be NC-17 later on.
Pairing: TomxBill
Genre: AU, wing fic, romance, angst, drama, fantasy, hurt/comfort
Summary: Two boys who live different lives, one caged in a house, the other wandering through his life. Lives of running away but never feeling free, with one surprising thing in common.
Bill could never have mentally prepared himself for what he saw.
All these years his parents had told him that he was alone in the world, a caged monster with no allies. Yet the sight before him told a different story. There were more of his kind, he knew it. If this dreadlocked boy wasn’t aware of the fact that he was a “species” then Bill didn’t understand how he could have survived this long. Bill had only made it because he was locked up and fed, kept alive just because his parents didn’t want to deal with his dead body and the wings that would obviously come with it. They didn’t make coffins that fit them.
Despite the millions of thoughts that could have been shooting through his mind at the moment only one stood out from the rest. Were they real?
Bill was in shock, his body stiff with wide, unblinking eyes and a gaping jaw. The black-haired teen slowly stepped forward, not aware of his movements as his mind was still frozen in bewilderment, hope, and longing.
His hope and longing were given their answer as a pale, black and white clawed hand reached up to brush across the soft down layer of beige feathers. A second hand came up to cup the long bone, which extended its impressive wingspan fully as the digits whimsically felt their way over angular joints. He looked like a child exploring the remains of a long forgotten tree house with unwavering fascination.
No sooner had he confirmed they were real, then his arms were tightly tucked around Tom’s torso, clinging desperately like the Winged would simply fly away and laugh at him, as if everything was a cruel joke. His darkly framed face was buried in Tom’s shoulder, a failed attempt at hiding his glistening tears and wide smile. He’d finally found someone. He wasn’t alone.
Tom felt a little awkward in this situation, after all, wouldn’t you? He didn’t so much mind the shock, he’d expected it, but the hugging and something akin to nuzzling was not on his list of possible reactions. His expression was very unsure, contemplating how he was supposed to respond to these unforeseen actions.
After a few moments of thought he finally wrapped his own arms loosely around Bill’s shaking waist but he didn’t know if the quivering was from laughter or tears. The dreadhead hesitantly rubbed the other’s back, still watching Bill with a very odd look.
Tom didn’t say or do anything but the easy circular motions for minutes that felt more like hours. However, the dreadlocked teen didn’t feel as odd about it once the first minute or so had passed.
Eventually, Bill knew he had to move back from the near stranger. He stopped a step away, arms still around his companion but became just one limb as a delicate looking hand lifted to wipe away the droplets of water adorning flushed cheeks. The darker Winged smiled at Tom, thinking he didn’t understand just how much all of this meant to him.
“I’m sorry,” he sniffed again, “I didn’t mean to surprise you like that. It’s just…” His eyes were downcast but even in the sorrowful nature of his thoughts there was no chance in hell of getting that smile off his lips.
“I thought I was completely alone. My parents always treated me like I was some kind of disgusting monster…”
Tom had heard of parents not knowing of their linage and doing horrible things to Winged children, even going as far as to brutally hack off their wings. It was no different from cutting off a child’s legs or arms.
On impulse, Tom’s arms gently wrapped around Bill again, drawing his small frame into a comforting embrace. He didn’t mean for it to be especially affectionate, it wasn’t like Bill was a girl, but he sympathized with the other. What had happened to Bill was the very fear that drove Tom from his family and home at sixteen, as soon as he could get a job to support himself.
Bill sank into the warm circling of limbs, knowing exactly what emotions were meant to be portrayed by the comforting gesture. The dark-haired teen didn’t want to let go. Physical contact was something he’d been deprived of for so many years that being given another taste of touch was almost overwhelming. It wasn’t something any human was supposed to be starved of.
Tom couldn’t understand why he felt so perfectly at ease in the other’s arms, not when this “other” was a bisexual male whose looks couldn’t be matched by any woman in the town. This was far too weird for Tom’s liking and he pulled back, ignoring the twinge of reluctance yanking at him.
Despite being the one to move away he had nothing to say and no idea about what to do. He was saved when Bill opened his mouth instead, trying to sound light hearted about it.
“Sorry, I’m a bit clingy. Six years of loneliness can do that to you I guess,” The quiet chuckle that came after didn’t make the statement any happier, not when Tom’s face dropped and paled at the new information.
“S-six years…?” His gut twisted, imagining how it would have felt but he could tell that just imagination was nothing in comparison to the real thing. His only reply from Bill was a small nod.
“Do…you want to stay for dinner? I don’t have much, but we can share the cake.” Bill looked over to the side table where the parcel still sat.
Tom was just about to reply with a quick yes when he realized that the two were still standing within each other’s arms. The dreadhead swallowed a small lump that had been gathering in his throat and stepped back, nervously rubbing his palms on his jeans. Usually it would have been his shirt, if he had been wearing one.
“S-sure,” After all the trouble he’d gone through the night before, at work, and even right here there was no way he was turning down a free meal.
Bill’s smile was beautifully radiant as he looked directly into Tom’s hazel eyes with equally shining, chocolate orbs. It was his first time with real, face-to-face human company in 6 years. His parents hadn’t even seen him one last time before they shipped him off with some shady, black-suited man to the airport.
Tom’s stomach flipped when that smile was directed at him. Just another thing to ignore. He knew it wasn’t from anticipation of food.
Bill stared, beaming at Tom for a moment before he shyly turned away and walked down the little hallway into the average-sized kitchen. Tom picked up the cake on his way and ignored the fact that he was topless, putting clothes back on meant constricting his wings and that was certainly not something he wanted to do right now.
The dreadhead observed his surroundings quietly as Bill started shuffling around the room, leaving Tom to take up a chair at the island in the middle. Neither said much until the darker-haired boy had finally gathered all of his ingredients. Having a guest for the first time meant cooking the finest of what he had and he was best at pasta dishes.
“Umm, do you like pasta? I have a few sauces you can choose,” He seemed extremely nervous and fumbled with one of the jars, holding it up to show it was Alfredo. Tom perked up at the mention of pasta.
“I love it!” He nodded excitedly at the bottle of Alfredo and Bill blushed before smiling to himself and putting away the things he wouldn’t need.
“Do you want chicken in it? I was going to have some for dinner so it’s already thawed…”
Tom’s enthusiastic response encouraged him.
“Sounds good to me.” The dreadhead was grinning, feeling more energized and less awkward now that they were having a normal conversation. It did help that one of his favorite foods was going to be fed to his grumbling stomach.
Bill hid his flushed face and wide smile from Tom as he got to work. It was easy to conceal considering the layout of the kitchen let him move with his back to the other Winged. A comfortable silence settled over the pair and Tom watched as Bill prepared the food. Every so often the feeling of eyes on his back would make his feathers ruffle and a little chill tickle up his spine.
It wasn’t long before a bowl of steaming chicken Alfredo was placed in front of him along with a fork, spoon and knife. He glanced up, waiting for Bill to sit down before he dove into the meal. The noir seemed to be waiting for Tom to take the first bite and give his critique, something that Tom was all too happy to oblige to.
Tom’s fork stabbed through a generously sized slice of grilled chicken coated in Alfredo sauce, then twirled between expert fingers before lifting to the visibly watering mouth. As soon as the tasty forkful met Tom’s taste buds there was no holding back the very verbal moan that escaped his lips. Slowly and almost sensually, relishing in the flavour, the dreadlocked boy chewed and swallowed. His eyes closed and a heavenly feeling took over his body. He’d expected something good from the way Bill seemed to know exactly what he was doing, but not this wonderful onslaught of tasteful sensations.
Bill seemed to have gained a whole new level of confidence and glee as the black-haired teen began eating his own portion. It was a good thing he’d made the entire bottle and lots of linguini since Tom wanted seconds, even thirds. Bill had small seconds and deemed himself full, encouraging the other to eat as much as he liked. It was the least he could do.
There weren’t any real conversations during the meal except for the occasional “What spice did you use?” or “This is a really nice house.” from Tom. They didn’t cut into the cake like they’d planned because after consuming that much pasta both were completely full.
It was late when they’d finally finished and Tom knew he had to go back to his place soon, there was work early tomorrow for him. The dreadhead was bothered by his reluctance to leave but once again chose to ignore it for now and think later, something he was having to do a lot lately. He fidgeted for a moment, his wings fluffing slightly, feeling bad about eating and then suddenly running off.
“Umm, I should really get going. I have work tomorrow,” He wouldn’t look up to meet those heart-melting brown orbs and instead found his lap very interesting all of a sudden.
Despite his discomfort Bill simply smiled and understood. Having this precious secret revealed to him and then being complimented so highly on his cooking skills was more than enough to suffice with his expectations of this encounter, more than the noir ever could have expected.
“It’s alright, I understand. You have no idea how much I appreciate all of this…” His feminine features softened and his expression showed the pure joy he held for all of the things that had happened over the last twenty-four hours.
Bill stood first, leading Tom out to the front door and watched him rebind his wings while the fractionally taller of the two nervously nibbled at his lip.
He wanted to know more about the dreadlocked boy, not understanding anything of the outside world. Having someone like Tom to educate him and confide in was all he wanted. However, it wasn’t something he could just outright ask of the other since he knew the tanned teen had a life to take care of.
After Tom had straightened himself out and was fully clothed once more there was an unsettling feeling bubbling in the pit of his stomach, as if his body was telling him he didn’t want to leave, whether his brain decided to or not. Tom swallowed the lump in his throat again and hoisted his pants up before finally figuring out what to say.
“If you ever, uh, want me to come by again, just do the same thing as today.”
Bill tilted his head with a quirked eyebrow. “You mean make chicken Alfredo?”
Tom smiled, playing with his tongue ring, and glanced at his feet for a second before looking back into dark pupils.
“That’d be nice, but I was talking about ordering something from Danica’s for seven.”
It was Bill’s turn to look at his socked feet while flushing a soft pink. “Oh…”
The dreadhead just chuckled, feeling a little more in control of the situation.
“So, will you?” He leant down a bit to try and catch the noir’s eye with a charming smirk on his pierced lips.
“Yeah, I will soon.” It seemed that Tom’s smile was contagious as it lit up the darker-haired boy’s face.
Tom stepped toward the door and reached out to the brass handle but then had second thoughts. He looked up at the other with an expression of confusion, like he was trying to figure something out.
“I really enjoyed myself.” It wasn’t something he said characteristically but it suited the situation just fine and all of his doubts were washed away as that brilliant smile returned.
A short nod and a grinning reassurance were the last things they saw of each other that night.