Ruffled Feathers
Title: Ruffled Feathers
Author: ink_on_the_page
Recipient: iceyrica
Rating: G
Fandom: Bandom/Disney crossover
Characters/pairings: Mike Carden/Kevin Jonas
Disclaimer: I don't own them. This is just for fun. Suing me for money is about as productive an exercise as squeezing blood from a stone. I do not condone any illegal activities that may be written about in my fiction, nor do I partake in any of these activities personally. This is a work of fiction, and should be treated as such. If you got here by googling yourself or someone you know, for the love of my sanity, hit the back button or DON'T TELL ME WHO YOU ARE.
Summary: There is so much wrong between the pair of them, and all Kevin wants to do is hide.
Warning: wings. I'm warning for angst, because ouch, and hey, it's unresolved. fun!
Author's note: Sooooo, this is actually a very small portion of a fic that grew absolutely out of control. I have every intention of writing that fic. However, with the short turn around on this 'thon, there was simply no time to do it justice. That fic will be written and shared one day, and will give all the detail that this fic couldn't contain. Many, many, *MANY* thanks to akire_yta for all of her help in working this out, the editing, and generally keeping me from losing my mind.
Prompt: "I am pretty easy going. I like high school au's, supernatural au's, regular au's... I have always wanted to read a really good fic about Kevin having wings!! ... I also dig established relationships where they've been together long enough to know each other in and out. Other than that stuff, I am way easy. Go crazy! " (parts irrelevant to the story have been snipped)
Word count: 1613
The long expanse of Kevin's new wings were inky black against the softer chocolate brown of the leather couch. They trailed past his feet as he laid there with the end feathers drooping over the side. They were ridiculous, though great for hiding behind. Kevin stared uncomprehendingly at the blank television that Mike had bought for them when Kevin moved in, and wondered where he had gotten lost.
He could remember the closeness they'd once had, like it was a dream that he kept trying to remember but was slowly forgetting. All of the wonderful things that he would have sworn he would never forget, like the first smile Mike ever gave him, their first kiss, the day Mike had asked him to move in, all the stupidly sappy things that Kevin wouldn't have admitted to treasuring to anyone, were slowly fading.
They had led them to this point, and now Kevin was left wondering what there was for him here. The couch he was on was Mike’s, the TV he was staring at was Mike’s, the table, even most of the books and weird magical artifacts strewn across the shelves were Mike's. It was like Kevin was just visiting, a temporary boarder. He had gone straight from his parents’ home to Mike’s home, and somewhere along the way, his life had gotten lost.
Kevin loved Mike; that he knew and did not question. He highly doubted that would ever change. But he couldn’t forget the expression that had been on Mike’s face when he first caught sight of Kevin’s new wings and it hurt far more than Kevin could ever say. The look of horror and shock, the step backwards-the step away had broken Kevin’s heart. He saw it every time he closed his eyes, saw it lurking every time Mike looked at him now.
“Kev?” Mike’s voice broke into Kevin’s wallowing. Kevin couldn’t keep himself from tensing at the sound of his partner's approach. Everything between them was disintegrating, with each word falling like a blow leaving both of them bruised and tender, whether it was meant to or not. Kevin didn’t know if he had the energy to deal with it right now. “Kevin?” Mike was in the doorway now. Kevin could hear the nervous taping of one toe. He didn't look. “Uh. Are you hungry?"
"No," Kevin said into the curtain of his wings. The last thing he wanted right now was Mike coddling him. The morning would bring another day of stilted movements and Kevin's struggle to be allowed to do something for himself; he was already worn out from this morning's fight, before all of this, before the wings, before his life was twisted inside out and upside down.
The toe tapping changed sides, like Mike had shifted his weight. The nervous little sound was a tiny little dagger into Kevin's soul, each tap pushing it deeper and deeper. "A movie, then? Wanna watch a movie? I can put on About a Boy. That's you're favorite, right?"
“You can,” Kevin found himself saying. He sounded exhausted and resigned even to his own ears. If Mike heard it, he didn't react or take it as a warning, though. Kevin heard Mike cross the floor to put the movie in, and then the turn of footsteps and the pause that told Kevin Mike was trying to figure out where to sit. He sighed and pulled his wings in tight. He couldn't really sit up without making himself uncomfortable, but he did slide as far down the couch as he could. “You can sit here,” he added when Mike didn’t move right away.
The excruciating carefulness with which Mike settled himself on the couch was Mike never used to be so fucking careful. He would flop, and more often than not, wind up half sitting or sprawled over Kevin, invading his space in the most enjoyable way Kevin could imagine. There would be legs draped across his lap or an arm curled around his shoulder, pulling him in. Now they were both wound up as tight as each other, side by side on the couch, not touching, not speaking. Kevin forced himself to actually focus on the TV in an effort to stop thinking about how much this all hurt.
He managed to blank his mind enough to fake it pretty well. Well enough that when his wings started to itch, it crept up on him. He twitched a little, hoping the ripple of skin and feathers would soothe it. It did, for a little while.
And then it itched again.
Kevin kept squirming, flexing the muscles he was starting to learn how to control, but nothing worked for long. The persistent itches kept coming back, more annoying than before.
“Kevin,” Mike finally said. “Kevin, what's wrong?”
“…itches,” Kevin said, his voice very small and quiet. He hadn’t realized he was twitching quite so violently. He felt stupid now, like he should have known that all that twitching of gigantic wings would be noticeable.
Mike made a soft sound that sounded like amusement. “Do you want me to-“ he stopped, like he wasn’t sure what to say or whether it would be accepted or not.
Kevin's wings spread before he could even form a verbal response. It was a blatant invitation, asking for the caress of Mike’s hands; like Kevin’s body was begging for something that Kevin’s mind wasn’t sure he would get or should have.
As soon as he realized he’d done it, Kevin was pulling his wings back in with effort. He hadn’t moved them more than a few inches, though, before Mike’s hands were there, gently burying themselves deep into Kevin’s inky feathers.
“Oh,” Kevin said. It was barely more than an exhalation of breath, the tiniest exclamation, but it made Mike’s hands sink a little further into Kevin’s wings, and made Kevin spread his wings back out.
It was amazing how gentle Mike could be. Kevin knew this; he'd sprained his ankle last year, and Mike's care of him had been as gentle as Mike was now. Mike’s big, strong hands were careful as they soothed each itch and tender spot within easy reach. And then came the most amazing feeling twinge-slide-soothe that had Kevin squeaking a little and asking, “What was that?”
Mike hummed under his break a little as he did it again. “Some of your feathers aren’t lying flat,” he mumbled.
Kevin stifled a whimper as Mike did it a third time. It felt incredible. Each gentle pass of Mike’s hands untwisted more feathers, and soothed out a tiny snarl of tension. They touched and settled and caressed each errant feather back into place with such care that Kevin found himself wanting to cry. The gestures were so loving that it felt like they had gone back to the way Mike was when they first started dating. Back before they had moved in together and Mike had taken over doing absolutely everything for Kevin. This was not the coddling of the recent months, but the loving of the beginning.
“Kev?” Mike asked breaking through Kevin’s wallowing. “I need. Uh, if you want me to finish this, I need to move and…” He sounded incredibly unsure. There was an undercurrent there, a wistful longing that had Kevin spreading his wings even further and settling flat onto his stomach in invitation. Mike needed this, and it was something Kevin could give, for once. Since they had slid into this agonizing tension, Mike had gotten even quieter. He hadn't asked for much from Kevin before; now, he was virtually silent. Kevin could give him this much, especially when it made Kevin feel so good.
Mike got off the couch and circled the wing drooping down towards the floor until he could climb back onto the couch. This time, though, he was straddling Kevin’s body at his hips, and Kevin had to bury his face in his arms to keep from making a sound. The familiar weight was almost more than he could take right now, with things so messed up between them.
But then Mike’s hands were back in his wings and they were scratching and massaging, caressing and coaxing each feather back to where it should be and Kevin just couldn’t care.
It felt like hours that they sat there like that, Mike straddling Kevin’s hips and slowly going over each wing to caress each individual feather back down until it was perfect. Kevin was completely boneless and incredibly turned on with each touch of Mike’s hands. They were gentle as they worked, but so strong, especially since Kevin knew that Mike could put him in a world of hurt if he chose to. The way each feather twinged as it was set into place told him that. But Mike didn’t.
After a while, Kevin noticed that the sensation of feathers being turned had stopped, and all there was now was Mike gently running his hands down each wing slowly, over and over again. He lay still, letting Mike pet him. There was nothing else he could do.
“There,” Mike said, suddenly, and got up. Kevin immediately felt cold, the loss of Mike’s weight twisting the daggers their weeks of tension had driven into his heart and soul. “All fixed. No more itching?”
“No,” Kevin whispered. “No more itching. Uh. Thanks.”
“…You’re welcome.” There was a soft sound, Mike’s bare feet padding against the carpeting, and then Kevin knew he was alone again.
He just pressed his face tighter into his arms and let the tears flow.
Author: ink_on_the_page
Recipient: iceyrica
Rating: G
Fandom: Bandom/Disney crossover
Characters/pairings: Mike Carden/Kevin Jonas
Disclaimer: I don't own them. This is just for fun. Suing me for money is about as productive an exercise as squeezing blood from a stone. I do not condone any illegal activities that may be written about in my fiction, nor do I partake in any of these activities personally. This is a work of fiction, and should be treated as such. If you got here by googling yourself or someone you know, for the love of my sanity, hit the back button or DON'T TELL ME WHO YOU ARE.
Summary: There is so much wrong between the pair of them, and all Kevin wants to do is hide.
Warning: wings. I'm warning for angst, because ouch, and hey, it's unresolved. fun!
Author's note: Sooooo, this is actually a very small portion of a fic that grew absolutely out of control. I have every intention of writing that fic. However, with the short turn around on this 'thon, there was simply no time to do it justice. That fic will be written and shared one day, and will give all the detail that this fic couldn't contain. Many, many, *MANY* thanks to akire_yta for all of her help in working this out, the editing, and generally keeping me from losing my mind.
Prompt: "I am pretty easy going. I like high school au's, supernatural au's, regular au's... I have always wanted to read a really good fic about Kevin having wings!! ... I also dig established relationships where they've been together long enough to know each other in and out. Other than that stuff, I am way easy. Go crazy! " (parts irrelevant to the story have been snipped)
Word count: 1613
The long expanse of Kevin's new wings were inky black against the softer chocolate brown of the leather couch. They trailed past his feet as he laid there with the end feathers drooping over the side. They were ridiculous, though great for hiding behind. Kevin stared uncomprehendingly at the blank television that Mike had bought for them when Kevin moved in, and wondered where he had gotten lost.
He could remember the closeness they'd once had, like it was a dream that he kept trying to remember but was slowly forgetting. All of the wonderful things that he would have sworn he would never forget, like the first smile Mike ever gave him, their first kiss, the day Mike had asked him to move in, all the stupidly sappy things that Kevin wouldn't have admitted to treasuring to anyone, were slowly fading.
They had led them to this point, and now Kevin was left wondering what there was for him here. The couch he was on was Mike’s, the TV he was staring at was Mike’s, the table, even most of the books and weird magical artifacts strewn across the shelves were Mike's. It was like Kevin was just visiting, a temporary boarder. He had gone straight from his parents’ home to Mike’s home, and somewhere along the way, his life had gotten lost.
Kevin loved Mike; that he knew and did not question. He highly doubted that would ever change. But he couldn’t forget the expression that had been on Mike’s face when he first caught sight of Kevin’s new wings and it hurt far more than Kevin could ever say. The look of horror and shock, the step backwards-the step away had broken Kevin’s heart. He saw it every time he closed his eyes, saw it lurking every time Mike looked at him now.
“Kev?” Mike’s voice broke into Kevin’s wallowing. Kevin couldn’t keep himself from tensing at the sound of his partner's approach. Everything between them was disintegrating, with each word falling like a blow leaving both of them bruised and tender, whether it was meant to or not. Kevin didn’t know if he had the energy to deal with it right now. “Kevin?” Mike was in the doorway now. Kevin could hear the nervous taping of one toe. He didn't look. “Uh. Are you hungry?"
"No," Kevin said into the curtain of his wings. The last thing he wanted right now was Mike coddling him. The morning would bring another day of stilted movements and Kevin's struggle to be allowed to do something for himself; he was already worn out from this morning's fight, before all of this, before the wings, before his life was twisted inside out and upside down.
The toe tapping changed sides, like Mike had shifted his weight. The nervous little sound was a tiny little dagger into Kevin's soul, each tap pushing it deeper and deeper. "A movie, then? Wanna watch a movie? I can put on About a Boy. That's you're favorite, right?"
“You can,” Kevin found himself saying. He sounded exhausted and resigned even to his own ears. If Mike heard it, he didn't react or take it as a warning, though. Kevin heard Mike cross the floor to put the movie in, and then the turn of footsteps and the pause that told Kevin Mike was trying to figure out where to sit. He sighed and pulled his wings in tight. He couldn't really sit up without making himself uncomfortable, but he did slide as far down the couch as he could. “You can sit here,” he added when Mike didn’t move right away.
The excruciating carefulness with which Mike settled himself on the couch was Mike never used to be so fucking careful. He would flop, and more often than not, wind up half sitting or sprawled over Kevin, invading his space in the most enjoyable way Kevin could imagine. There would be legs draped across his lap or an arm curled around his shoulder, pulling him in. Now they were both wound up as tight as each other, side by side on the couch, not touching, not speaking. Kevin forced himself to actually focus on the TV in an effort to stop thinking about how much this all hurt.
He managed to blank his mind enough to fake it pretty well. Well enough that when his wings started to itch, it crept up on him. He twitched a little, hoping the ripple of skin and feathers would soothe it. It did, for a little while.
And then it itched again.
Kevin kept squirming, flexing the muscles he was starting to learn how to control, but nothing worked for long. The persistent itches kept coming back, more annoying than before.
“Kevin,” Mike finally said. “Kevin, what's wrong?”
“…itches,” Kevin said, his voice very small and quiet. He hadn’t realized he was twitching quite so violently. He felt stupid now, like he should have known that all that twitching of gigantic wings would be noticeable.
Mike made a soft sound that sounded like amusement. “Do you want me to-“ he stopped, like he wasn’t sure what to say or whether it would be accepted or not.
Kevin's wings spread before he could even form a verbal response. It was a blatant invitation, asking for the caress of Mike’s hands; like Kevin’s body was begging for something that Kevin’s mind wasn’t sure he would get or should have.
As soon as he realized he’d done it, Kevin was pulling his wings back in with effort. He hadn’t moved them more than a few inches, though, before Mike’s hands were there, gently burying themselves deep into Kevin’s inky feathers.
“Oh,” Kevin said. It was barely more than an exhalation of breath, the tiniest exclamation, but it made Mike’s hands sink a little further into Kevin’s wings, and made Kevin spread his wings back out.
It was amazing how gentle Mike could be. Kevin knew this; he'd sprained his ankle last year, and Mike's care of him had been as gentle as Mike was now. Mike’s big, strong hands were careful as they soothed each itch and tender spot within easy reach. And then came the most amazing feeling twinge-slide-soothe that had Kevin squeaking a little and asking, “What was that?”
Mike hummed under his break a little as he did it again. “Some of your feathers aren’t lying flat,” he mumbled.
Kevin stifled a whimper as Mike did it a third time. It felt incredible. Each gentle pass of Mike’s hands untwisted more feathers, and soothed out a tiny snarl of tension. They touched and settled and caressed each errant feather back into place with such care that Kevin found himself wanting to cry. The gestures were so loving that it felt like they had gone back to the way Mike was when they first started dating. Back before they had moved in together and Mike had taken over doing absolutely everything for Kevin. This was not the coddling of the recent months, but the loving of the beginning.
“Kev?” Mike asked breaking through Kevin’s wallowing. “I need. Uh, if you want me to finish this, I need to move and…” He sounded incredibly unsure. There was an undercurrent there, a wistful longing that had Kevin spreading his wings even further and settling flat onto his stomach in invitation. Mike needed this, and it was something Kevin could give, for once. Since they had slid into this agonizing tension, Mike had gotten even quieter. He hadn't asked for much from Kevin before; now, he was virtually silent. Kevin could give him this much, especially when it made Kevin feel so good.
Mike got off the couch and circled the wing drooping down towards the floor until he could climb back onto the couch. This time, though, he was straddling Kevin’s body at his hips, and Kevin had to bury his face in his arms to keep from making a sound. The familiar weight was almost more than he could take right now, with things so messed up between them.
But then Mike’s hands were back in his wings and they were scratching and massaging, caressing and coaxing each feather back to where it should be and Kevin just couldn’t care.
It felt like hours that they sat there like that, Mike straddling Kevin’s hips and slowly going over each wing to caress each individual feather back down until it was perfect. Kevin was completely boneless and incredibly turned on with each touch of Mike’s hands. They were gentle as they worked, but so strong, especially since Kevin knew that Mike could put him in a world of hurt if he chose to. The way each feather twinged as it was set into place told him that. But Mike didn’t.
After a while, Kevin noticed that the sensation of feathers being turned had stopped, and all there was now was Mike gently running his hands down each wing slowly, over and over again. He lay still, letting Mike pet him. There was nothing else he could do.
“There,” Mike said, suddenly, and got up. Kevin immediately felt cold, the loss of Mike’s weight twisting the daggers their weeks of tension had driven into his heart and soul. “All fixed. No more itching?”
“No,” Kevin whispered. “No more itching. Uh. Thanks.”
“…You’re welcome.” There was a soft sound, Mike’s bare feet padding against the carpeting, and then Kevin knew he was alone again.
He just pressed his face tighter into his arms and let the tears flow.