Feather

^{Red dripped erratically, splattering on wet concrete.}

^{A trembling hand scraped along the wall for support, trailing streaks of maroon.}

^{A trashcan clattered, throwing the body off-balance, sending them both down the alley, scattering garbage.}

^{…and white feathers}

^“Shit!”

^{Coughing. A white, dirty hand sprayed crimson.}

^{have to get up, have to keep moving}

^{A thin hand clawed up the wall, falling twice, skinning already scrapped-up fingers.}

^{A cat hissed down the alleyway.}

^{Azriel moaned, shivering. His stomach churned with his lurching efforts to stand. Blood ribboned down his bare back, glinting off bits of glass embedded in his skin. Frigid air burned in his lungs as he frantically gulped it.}

^{He had to keep moving.}

^{But his legs were clumsily numb and every movement shredded pain down his glass-ridden spine.}

^{Azriel vowed, if he lived through this, he’d never jump through another five story window ever again.}

^{Sheets of rain washed his thin fingers clean of his own blood, plastering his mint, hospital-like paper pants to his thighs. The ground was freezing, but that made it the perfect cold compress, numbing the itchy burning of gashes. He closed dark eyes beneath soaked, paper-white hair.}

^{get up}

^{His body didn’t move from its half-curled position between the wall and the silver can, head slightly propped up by a burst garbage bag. It might have been unpleasant if the rain wasn’t drowning the smell. His eyes unfocused on a rotting banana peel.}

^{GET UP}

^{Azriel rolled onto his hands and knees, agony charging through his body at the movement. The dark and stormy night got darker, and the sea swelled in his ears. Azriel fought to stay conscious, to get up, to move. He lost.}

^{*2 ba}

^{It was a damned miracle the storeowner dropped the charges against him, Ephraim mused as he sauntered out of the 56th precinct’s front doors. Not that Ephraim believed in miracles, he was an atheist, but still, it was considerably fortuitous for him, seeing as he didn’t have any cash to make bail.}

^{Ephraim stopped grinning once he made it outside.}

^{“FUCK!” The young man yelled at the top of his voice, throwing his whole body into the exclamation. No coat, no bus pass, no money, and he had to walk 15 blocks in a torrential downpour to get home. Fuck miracles.}

^{The 22-year-old sighed, shoving his hands in his pockets as he stepped out from under the protection of the awning. His carefully spiked hair was going to be ruined before he made it to the end of the block.}

^{Perhaps this was his punishment for stealing; to be soggy and most likely catch a cold. Of course, if Ephraim believed that, he’d have to believe in something like karmic retribution, and that was bullshit. The world wouldn’t be such a fucked up place if there were accountability, if there was a God. He sneezed.}

^{Three blocks later his black hair was molded to his head, and his black, long-sleeved shirt and red plaid pants were soaked through. His cheap combat boots started squelching halfway through the fourth block and somewhere around the fifth, Ephraim realized his leather, spiked collar was probably bleeding black dye all down his neck.}

^{He should have called Stacey. She would have ridden the bus all the way down here just to give him bus fare or an umbrella if she didn’t have the cash, and she wouldn’t have even been pissed that he’d called her collect. She was a nice girl. He’d ask her out if she didn’t already have a boyfriend. Incidentally they were just really good friends and neighbors.}

^{Almost home free, two blocks left.}

^{Ephraim turned down a familiar alley. *3}

^{A cat hissed as he entered the narrow pathway that parted two concrete buildings. Several crows, black on black sky, took to the air, complaining loudly.}

^{Ephraim stepped around a dirty white feather, pulling strands of black hair out of his eyes. The feather was too big for a pigeon.}

^{Something in the pit of his stomach lurched. It was the familiar instinct that signaled that something bad was on its way. It was a good instinct; it let him walk away from many nasty situations before he got tangled in them. But he kept walking forward, close to a wall, fingers almost skimming it.}

^{The phantom cat-hiss issued again, this time closer, just as Ephraim caught with his eye, stark white fanned out against the ground, glowing in the rain.}

^{A shadow moved over the white object the young man couldn’t quite make out. The cat.}

^{It mewed. Pattered towards him, then circled back to the burst of pure white.}

^{Frosty panic flittered in Ephraim’s stomach, but he resisted the urge to turn around and bolt. Instead he walked forward in squelching boots, shivering from cold and trepidation.}

^{The stray scurried away just as Ephraim approached the body.}

^{He immediately lurched away, startled. Then surged toward it again, forgetting to breathe.}

^{It was a pale body, half-curled on its side; red slashes rinsed clean in the rain. Droplets bounced off shards of glass protruding from skin in the back, the forearms, the chest, and God knows where else. Stuck to the skin of his legs was what looked like cheap hospital pants that were on their way to dissolving completely.}

^{The state the boy was in wasn’t what frightened Ephraim so much though. It was the sudden knowledge that this damaged boy was the source of the feathers. It was the wings arching out of his back, covering him like a down blanket. Well, partially at least. Most of the right wing looked like it had been ripped off.}

^{“Oh…shit. I better call the fucking hospital.”}

^{The white hand fumbled towards Ephraim’s boot, and he jerked away in surprise. The appendage fell limp, defeated.}

^{“Please,” pale lips mumbled inaudibly.}

^{Hesitantly, Ephraim squatted closer. “What?”}

^{“Please,” he heard the other man whisper hoarsely, “no…hos…hospi…tal”}

^{“What? But you’re all fucked up man, you can’t just-”}

^{“Please,” the snow-haired boy whispered again, dark black eyes shiny and panicked. “Please, no…” The eyes fluttered. His body shuddered, then the eyes closed.}

^{Ephraim quickly stood up and backed a few steps away from the body, chewing on his black nails.}

^{Oh no. This was bad. What was he going to do? The…the…thing wouldn’t let him take him to the hospital. That he could understand. He was running away from something, and the hospital would be a quick trip back the way he’d came. That, Ephraim could understand. But that meant he had to do something with it. That was the problem. He couldn’t be getting involved in the thing’s shit. It was all cut up and there was glass, and not to mention – oh shit, just don’t think about that!}

^{Just walk away. He should just walk away.}

^{Ephraim sneezed, and the cat hissed again further down the alleyway.}

^{Dammit. He couldn’t just leave the thing here! But where else was there to go but his apartment? Nowhere.}

^{“Fuck!” Ephraim exclaimed for the second time that night, only this time much more quietly.}

^{*4 ba}

^{Ephraim kicked the door to his apartment closed, then toed off his soggy boots. He half-carried, half-dragged the surprisingly light young man into his tiny bathroom, where he laid him on his stomach. Combined, they had created a good-sized puddle on the tile floor in a matter of seconds.}

^{Teeth chattering, the part-time thief pulled his thin towel off the side of the tub and started to pat the other boy dry.}

^{He stopped when he realized he wasn’t making any progress because he just kept dripping all over him. Ephraim sighed, peeling off his shirt and dropping it in the tub as he went in search of more towels, or at least dry substances he could use as towels.}

^{In the garbage heap that was his apartment, he managed to gather one more threadbare towel, a pair of sweats, his spare blanket and some newspaper. It would just have to do.}

^{Back in the bathroom, Ephraim finished stripping and quickly dried himself off. He caught himself in the streaky mirror over the sink, black, towel-devastated hair haphazardly sticking every which way.}

^{“What the hell are you doing?” he asked the cobalt-eyed boy in the mirror. His teeth started chattering again to remind him. He quickly pulled on some blue flannel pjs, then unwisely knelt in the puddle on the floor to go back to drying the white-haired thing.}

^{The pants were gonna have to go, he doubted they’d ever get dry. However, it proved rather difficult to get them off without touching certain parts of another boy’s body that Ephraim was just not ready to be touching.}

^{He lost all timidity though when without the rain to hide it, he realized the boy’s wounds were still oozing blood.}

^{Where it wasn’t scratched up or littered with broken glass, the skin was impossibly smooth and slightly warm despite the fact he’d been laying on the ground in the rain at night for who knows how long.}

^{Ephraim’s hand started trembling. What the fuck was he doing? He ripped his hand from the curve of the white-haired boy’s thigh and went back to plucking glass out of his hip.}

^{Thud thud thud}

^{Ephraim jumped, eyes snapping to the shuddering front door, which he could easily see from the bathroom.}

^{Hopefully whoever the hell it was would just go away.}

^{thud thud thud}

^shit!

^{“Ephy! It’s me!” The female voice was only slightly muffled by the white door.}

^{Stacey. The muscles in his shoulders relaxed. He quickly threw the spare blanket over the wings and shut the bathroom door before moving through the living room to crack the front door open.}

^{“How are you?” The girl asked, brushing back a strand of curly auburn hair.}

^{“I’m, I’m ok Stace. This is just a bad time.”}

^{The young woman in tank top and pj bottoms eyed her friend critically, looking for any sign of injury. Once she was satisfied, she nodded.}

^{“Ok. Just be careful. You were tracking blood and feathers.” She stated quietly, glancing down the hallway for any eavesdroppers.}

^{“Oh shit,” Ephraim mumbled, glancing nervously down the hallway past her. The last thing he needed was to attract attention.}

^{“Don’t worry,” the smaller woman said, a half-smile on her face. “I took care of it.”}

^{He let out a breath, “thanks.”}

^{“It’s fine. Just be careful. Ok?”}

^{He nodded vigorously. “I will, I promise.”}

^{Stacey stared at him for a long moment, as if to discern whether or not the promise was real. Finally she nodded. “Fine. Good night.” Then she turned and left, giving Ephraim permission to close the door on her, and go back to his business, which he did, quickly.}

^{Several minutes later he had the winged-thing bandaged, and in his bed.}

^{*5 ba}

^{Faded gray fabric. Aching. A feeling of frightening lightness. He wasn’t dead.}

^{A spindly spider picked her way across the fuzzy, beading surface.}

^{This was not the street he was on. He could hear rain, but it doesn’t touch him in this layered warmth. Azriel remembered blue eyes and blackness, the hiss of a soaked cat. The bed is flat, softer than cement.}

^{His wings are folded against him. They’re useless now. The pang is distant, foreign. The feathers had already started to shed; the mutilated wing would be dead in another day.}

^{Icicles prickled in his stomach, but he told himself he didn’t care. It didn’t matter.}

^{But there was still the question of why he was still alive.}

^{Azriel closed his black eyes and imagined his wings gone. Then they were. It was a useful trick for a fallen to have.}

^{The white-haired young man rolled onto his back, then carefully sat up. Distant pain prickled through his back, spreading down his arms and around his torso. Exhaustion made him feel cloudy and his white eyelashes kept drifting over his eyes.}

^{He found himself in a small bedroom cluttered with piles of clothing and other unidentifiable junk. He could hear cars. The gray sky outside told him it was a little after dawn.}

^{Azriel lightly touched the gauze covering his forearms and his lower torso. The workmanship was clumsy, but sufficient. A small smile twitched at one corner of his pink lips.}

^{A chilly shadow brushed over him. Mishu was looking for him. He shouldn’t be here; he shouldn’t stay. He could get this person in trouble if he stayed. They would get harmed over nothing. No, worse! They would get harmed over him.}

^{This person had seen his wings. What if they were going to use him as part of some circus freak show?}

^{Azriel physically choked on that thought, his body beginning to tremble at memory.}

^{Carefully he slid himself out of the bed, grabbing an over-sized, black tee shirt and pulling it over his head. He brushed long strands of white hair out of his eyes, then, with a sucked in breath, stumbled the few paces to the doorframe. He clutched at the molding piece of wood nervously.}

^{His ears were starting to buzz a little.}

^{The cluttered main room had a couch and a TV that didn’t appear to be working, or perhaps never worked. The bathroom door was open, and he couldn’t hear anything from the kitchenette. No one seemed to be around.}

^{Azriel padded cautiously into the main room, towards the front door.}

^{“I swear officer, I didn’t do it,” a male voice mumbled sloppily.}

^{Azriel froze halfway towards his goal, eyes searching frantically for the source of the noise.}

^{“No…I don’t want the chicken,”}

^{The couch, it was coming from the couch. He took the extra step to see the front of the shabby piece of lime-green furniture. Curled tightly on it was a tangled mass of black hair. Thin, tan arms covered in goosebumps were wrapped around the sleeping boy’s bare shoulders.}

^{“No, stop!” The boy murmured in his sleep, frowning.}

^{Impulsively Azriel limped forward, kneeling in front of the couch. He reached down his shirt, pressing his palm against his heart, then trailed the shaking hand just above Ephraim’s forehead and down his forearm.}

^{The black-haired boy sighed in his sleep and his body relaxed, the goosebumps gone.}

^{Azriel realized he shouldn’t have done that. His entire body became leaden and unresponsive, his head rolling forward. A nauseous tickle budded in his stomach and his eyes closed against his wishes.}

^{I have to get up. I have to leave. He thought vaguely.}

^{Uninterested in his own advice, his body slumped against the couch.}

^{*6 ba}

^{Feathers. Everywhere, falling. Like snowflakes.}

^{*7 ba}

^{Azriel’s eyes snap open with a gasp. He was in the bed again and the same spider was then traversing the ceiling. Long, thin fingers shakily touched his damp face, brushing at the new tears forming there.}

^{Stupid dreams.}

^{Azriel curled onto his side, trying, unsuccessfully, to quiet his hitching breathing. He buried his face in the crook of his arm, hiding the tears he couldn’t stop.}

^{His entire body felt frozen, his chest hollow. Rejection.}

^{“Oh hey. You’re awake.”}

^{Azriel jerked upright, pressing himself against the wall. The boy who had been on the couch was blinking cobalt eyes at him from underneath a mess of uncombed, black hair. He was holding a brown paper bag in his hand.}

^{“Shit, sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you guy. Um…you ok?”}

^{Azriel quickly dragged his forearm across his eyes, embarrassed that he’d been caught crying.}

^{The boy, wearing a gray tank top with a white dragon on it and an oversized pair of jeans, shifted impatiently when Azriel didn’t immediately answer him. He was quite gorgeous.}

^{Azriel bit his lip. The dark-haired boy’s hands looked soft, gentle.}

^{“Um, my name’s Ephraim.”}

^{A car honked. Nothing else happened for several seconds.}

^{“You want a hamburger? My friend Stacey brought them for us.”}

^{Ephraim walked to the bed, intending to hand the bag to the silent, white-haired thing that had wings, then didn’t, but the boy’s thin fingers wrapped around his wrist instead; not hard enough to make him nervous though.}

^{“Thank you,” Azriel whispered, uncertain what he was thanking Ephraim for. He remembered his body as glass, so hollow, the suffocating need for someone, anyone, to respond.}

^{“Oh hey guy, what’s wrong? Do you nee-” Ephraim was cut short when the ghostly, white-haired boy leaned forward, sliding his tongue into Ephraim’s open mouth.}

^{Ephraim’s eyes widened, but he didn’t pull away; he couldn’t. Something about the way the hand resting on his wrist shook, or the tears in the boy’s impossibly dark eyes. Or maybe it was the fact that he tasted like raspberry and chocolate. Ephraim loved raspberries and chocolate.}

^{“What…?” Ephraim mumbled dazedly when Azriel pulled away from him. Instead of answering his question, the fallen angel scooted closer. The thin, shaking fingers pulled down the top of Ephraim’s shirt to expose a nipple, which he leaned forward and licked; the movements slow, careful.}

^{The bag of hamburgers dropped to the floor.}

^{“Wait, I’m…not” Ephraim tried to explain that he wasn’t gay, but he couldn’t quite seem to get all the words to leave his mouth; he kept having to take deep, controlled breaths. He was not supposed to enjoy this. But he could feel his chest arching forward, and his free hand strayed to the other boy’s shoulder, lightly gripping it.}

^{Azriel felt fingers hesitantly brush against him and he pushed eagerly into the touch, yanking the black-haired boy so that he fell onto the bed with a squeak. Azriel climbed on top of him before the surprise wore off.}

^{“What? What are you-”}

^{Azriel slipped his tongue back into the wide, accepting mouth, his white hair spilling around his face. This time Ephraim’s tongue pushed back, his hands grabbing at Azriel’s borrowed shirt.}

^{The fallen angel sighed in the back of his throat, drowsy in humid warmth.}

^{“Who are you?” Ephraim stuttered out when his mouth was free again, blushing under the dark eyes. In response, fingernails grazed lightly across his belly button, dipping briefly below the elastic band of his boxers. Ephraim’s breath caught and refused to return, rendering him light-headed.}

^{“Why are you…doing-” This time his question was cut-off by his own faint moan when Azriel pushed up his tank and started lightly nipping his way down his stomach. Ephraim’s eyes fluttered closed as another soft noise passed between his slightly parted lips. He was acutely aware of fingers lightly stroking his wrist as the bursts of tiny fever continued to shock their way down his torso. He thought maybe he should move, resist, but his body refused to give up the knowledge of how to, to him.}

^{Azriel paused to look at the face belonging to the smooth, tan skin. Ephraim’s moist lips were divided, eyes patiently closed, breathing uncertain. But his lips were trembling slightly and the fingers of his right hand were digging stiffly into the mattress.}

^{He was frightened.}

^{Azriel had been too busy needing, being selfish.}

^{But he was so warm, so accepting.}

^{Azriel crawled back to his starting corner of the bed, drawing his knees up.}

^{“I’m sorry. I…I shouldn’t have done that.”}

^{Several long moments passed before Ephraim bolted off the bed, dark-blue eyes widened at the fallen angel. “Who…who are you?” He gasped, hiding his trembling hands in the task of picking up the abandoned bag of food.}

^{“My name is Azriel.” *8}

^{“Oh, Well, I’m Ephraim…oh wait, I sorta said that already didn’t I?”}

^{The white-haired boy just continued to look at him with large black eyes; knees drawn to his chest.}

^{Silence. It was making Ephraim unbearably nervous. It was too easy to think about that warm, pinkish mouth covering his own. The thin fingers- “So, you hungry?” He asked enthusiastically, to interrupt his own thoughts. He thrust the paper bag towards Azriel.}

^{The white-haired young man eyed it for a long moment, considering. It was hamburger and he was vegan, all angels were. But he wasn’t an angel anymore, was he? Azriel reached out one long arm to take the offered sack.}

^{“Thank you,” he said softly, unwrapping the burger.}

^{Ephraim shrugged. “Thank Stacey.”}

^{He just stood there awkwardly, trying not to stare as Azriel quickly devoured the hamburgers.}

^{“So, uh…where are you from?”}

^{Azriel looked up, startled by the question.}

^{“Around.”}

^{He went back to eating.}

^{Ephraim sighed, shifting nervously. He started chewing on his thumb. Azriel’s hands were shaking as he continued to stuff food into his small, cupid shaped lips.}

^{Ephraim realized he was staring.}

^{“You want somethin’ to drink? I got beer, I think, and water.”}

^{Again the white-haired boy interrupted what he was doing to stare at him as if he were speaking gibberish. He was beginning to think that perhaps he was.}

^{“Water, please.”}

^{Ephraim was also beginning to wonder if they boy could speak in anything other than a resigned whisper. Or maybe the guy was just frightened. Yeah, cause all frightened people try and jump the first person they see when they wake up.}

^{The black-haired boy wandered into the kitchenette, fishing around until he found a clean cup. He turned on the tap.}

^{His eyes closed. What the fuck is going on?}

^{The guy – it – had had wings, and now acted like it had never had them. Had he imagined them? One long delusion?}

^{And why had Azriel been so hurt? Where was whatever was after him, now?}

^{That squirrelly feeling that suggested something was wrong returned to his stomach.}

^{Ephraim opened his eyes, sticking his fingers under the running tap. The water was still warm…}

^{like lips}

^{He shuddered, eyes closing to the feel of water gushing over his fingertips.}

^{Why had Azriel kissed him? No, why had he let Azriel kiss him, touch him like that? Why had he enjoyed that soft, pink mouth on-}

^{the plastic cup clattered uncomfortably in the sink.}

^{Ephraim drew in a gusty breath, running his hand over his tank top. He filled the cup and walked back to the bedroom.}

^{Azriel was curled on his side in the bed, asleep. It couldn’t have taken five minutes.}

^{What happened to him? Ephraim wondered, pulling the blanket over the bandaged-up white-haired boy in his bed. And why won’t he tell me anything? Hell, Azriel might not even be his real name! He perched on the edge of the bed, chewing on what was left of his nails.}

^{thud thud thud}

^{Ephraim jumped, then rushed to his front door, peering out the peephole. Stacey stared back. *9}

^{He opened the door, smiling. “Hey.”}

^{“Hey. Whatcha doin’?”}

^{Ephraim glanced back towards the closed bedroom door. “Um, nothin’”}

^{“Wanna go grocery shopping? You and your friend are gonna need to eat, and I know you don’t have anything.”}

^{“My friend?” Ephraim’s mouth got a little dry}

^{She raised her eyebrows warningly at him.}

^{“Ok, ok. You’re right,” the black-haired boy glanced towards the bedroom again, “hold on one second.” He walked back into his apartment, snagging his coat, and his wallet. “Ok let’s go.”}

^{Ephraim locked the door to his place and the two of them walked out of the apartment building.}

^{“So, what’s going on?” Stacey asked the moment they stepped outside.}

^{Ephraim opened his mouth, then closed it. He couldn’t think of any way to start that would make a bit of sense.}

^{“If you don’t want to tell me, it’s all right.”}

^{“No, it’s not that. I just don’t know what to say.”}

^{The curly-haired girl laughed. “Well, the beginning is a good place to start. Where were you yesterday?”}

^{“The 56th.”}

^{“Ephraim!” She exclaimed in a motherly-scolding tone, adding a glare for good measure.}

^{The black-haired boy shrugged, “what can I say, I needed a watch, and some socks and-”}

^{“I don’t wanna hear it! Ok?” she interrupted, exasperated.}

^{“Oh come on, don’t be mad at me.”}

^{“Honey, you’re pissing me off. You’re being an idiot.”}

^{The two of them pushed their way into the small grocery store, Stacey a little more violently than normal. Ephraim decided he needed to change the subject before the conversation turned into the familiar argument about his occasional shoplifting.}

^{“How did you know there was someone else?”}

^{“Huh? Oh, the blood. You’re not hurt.” She stated quietly, grabbing a shopping cart.}

^{“Oh. Good call.”}

^{“So, you gonna tell me what’s going on, or what?”}

^{By the time they had left the store and were heading back towards their apartment building, Ephraim had stumblingly told her most of what had occurred in the last two days. He omitted the part about Azriel jumping him, not so much because he was afraid of telling his best friend, as he was of saying it out loud at all. He could barely think about it without getting weirded out.}

^{“Ephy, I think you’re harboring an angel.” Stacey giggled, amused. She was only half-joking.}

^{“Don’t be ridiculous.”}

^{“Well, how else do you explain people with wings?”}

^{“Genetic experiment? They grow mice with ears on their backs. Besides, he doesn’t have them anymore. I think I just imagined that.”}

^{“Of course! You’re so prone to hallucinating. Well, have you found any feathers at your place?”}

^{“I haven’t really been looking.”}

^{“Well, look. That’ll be proof if you imagined it or not. Well, here’s your stop.”}

^{Ephraim unlocked the door, then paused to watch the auburn-haired girl do the same across the hall.}

^{“Stacey?”}

^{She turned to look at him, a smile on her face. “hum?”}

^{“Thanks for listening to me.”}

^{“That’s what I’m here for honey. Just promise to introduce me to your friend later.”}

^{“Promise.”}

^{She grinned, then wandered into her apartment, and Ephraim went into his.}

^{*10 ba}

^{Azriel opened his eyes to a click. The sound of something locking; his muscles tightened.}

^{Nothing happened. Only car sounds and soft light. And warmth. He was covered in the plain blanket again.}

^{Where was the dark-haired boy, Ephraim?}

^{Azriel stood up, a hand going to the warm glass as he peered out the window onto the street below. He closed black eyes, trying to calm himself.}

^{What are you doing?}

^{He walked shakily to the bedroom door, opening it a crack. A slight tremor trickled through is body, but it was acceptable. He could leave.}

^{He didn’t see anyone in the main room, and it was quiet. But he remembered doing this before.}

^{Azriel walked to the couch, peering over the back. No one. Strangely, he felt heavier.}

^{I have to leave. It’s dangerous to stay here. For both of us.}

^{He walked back to the bedroom, sitting on the bed. His movements were deliberate; he was certain his entire body was sore.}

^{Azriel took a deep breath and held it. He needed to leave, but he didn’t want to. Need verses want. It wasn’t fair. Ephraim was pretty, the nicest person he’d met since he’d fallen, and he smelled…oh lord, he smelled like fire.}

^{He let the breath out in a moan, his eyes fluttering closed. Goosebumps prickled down his arms and he shivered. He wanted to crawl back under the blanket. It was warm and smelled like fire.}

^{Azriel shook himself. It was ridiculous to think about it. He had to leave.}

^{He stood up.}

^{He sat back down.}

^{He placed a hand under the blanket, then groaned and snatched it back to his lap. He was being pathetic.}

^{And impractical. The boy didn’t want him.}

^{But Ephraim hadn’t protested.}

^{Azriel growled at himself, he was acting like a child.}

^{But that still wouldn’t get him off the bed.}

^{If he stayed, Mishu would find him and take him back to her ‘establishment’}

^{Azriel stood up.}

^{*11 ba}

^{Ephraim closed the door to his apartment.}

^{A butterfly hatched in his stomach.}

^{The bag of groceries fell from his arms as he was propelled backwards. He hit the couch arm, jarring his entire body.}

^{A man in a black suit was smiling at him.}

^{Canned foods rolled along the floor.}

^{“Hello Ephraim Torres.”}

^{“Who the fuck are you?!” Ephraim exclaimed, straightening.}

^{A cold hand dug into his shoulder, shoving him forward. He tripped over a can of ravioli and fell on his hands and knees.}

^{“Watch your mouth, while in the presence of a lady.” a gravely voice advised.}

^{Ephraim was hauled to his feet and spun around, his arms jerked behind his back. A woman with blood-red hair, a clingy, blue dress, and mirror sunglasses sauntered out of the bedroom towards him. There were two more black-suited men accompanying her. Four guards.}

^{Ephraim jerked, twisting in the thick arms that held him. It only served to make the position of his limbs more uncomfortable.}

^{“Hello Ephy,” the woman greeted him, her voice smooth. She licked her full red lips as she stepped very close to him, their faces level.}

^{“Who are you, and what the hell do you want?”}

^{The tan-skinned woman pressed up against him, leaning forward to whisper in his ear, “My name is Mishu, and, if you cooperate,” her hand trailed down his torso, to his crotch, which she grabbed suggestively, “I want to be your friend.”}

^{Ephraim bit his lip, trying hard to concentrate on what the woman was saying, and not where her hand was resting, a light, warm pressure.}

^{“Breaking into someone’s house is a strange way to make friends.”}

^{The redhead giggled. “What can I say? I’m unique.” She punctuated the comment with a ghost brush of her dark lips across his cheek. She ran her ruby fingernails up the inside of his thigh.}

^{Ephraim was losing the concentration battle.}

^{“Cooperate? How?”}

^{“mmm, right down to business, I like that. Tell me where the fallen is.”}

^{Ephraim blinked, “The fallen? The fallen what?”}

^{The redhead frowned, and Ephraim realized he’d said the wrong thing. She dug her nails into his leg.}

^{“Ow, fuck!”}

^{The guy holding him wrenched his arms and pain jolted through his shoulders.}

^{“That’s not what I wanted to hear, Ephy. Shall we try that again?”}

^{“I swear, I don’t-”}

^{Mishu backhanded him, whipping his head to the left. His face stung. Ephraim fought the urge to growl. He had to stay calm; he didn’t want to make things worse. He took a slow, deep breath, facing the redheaded woman.}

^{She brushed strands of his black hair out of his eyes, a soft smile on her face, “I’m trying to play nice, Ephy, but you have to help me. Ok?”}

^{“I’m trying.” Ephraim bit out tightly, feeling his hands clench behind his back.}

^{“I know, honey,” Mishu said softly, a ruby nail casually touching Ephraim’s lower lip. She pressed up against him again, her nose nuzzling against his neck as she breathed deeply, her silky hair brushing against his cheek, trickling over his collarbone.}

^{Her dark cherry lips smiled mischievously and she pressed them against Ephraim’s. The black-haired boy groaned in the back of his throat and Mishu slipped her tongue inside. Her hand started stroking him again. He could feel himself getting hard and he groaned again into her mouth.}

^{Mishu pulled away from the now sedate young man, giggling.}

^{“Now I definitely know you’re lying, Ephy. His smell is on you. You even taste like him.}

^{Ephraim blinked groggily, trying to process what Mishu had just said.}

^{Taste like him?}

^{“Oh shit, you mean Azriel!” Ephraim blurted out. Mishu’s feral grin revealed it as a bad idea.}

^{“That’s right Ephy, now we’re on the same page.” She brushed against him again, stroking the growing bulge in his jeans.}

^{Now Ephraim understood why Azriel ran away, the bitch was psycho. They’d already searched his apartment. That meant Azriel was gone. He’d left. He hadn’t wanted to stay with him. Hazily he wondered why that bothered him so much?}

^{“Now. If you want to be my friend, as I see you do,” Mishu purred, squeezing his hard on, “tell me where the fallen is.”}

^{Ephraim bit his lip again, harder this time, resisting the urge to press back against her hand. He needed something else to focus on, “Why do you call him ‘the fallen?’”}

^{The redhead sighed impatiently, “Because he is. Now, don’t make me repeat myself.”}

^{“I’m sorry, I don’t know where he went.”}

^{Pain exploded in his stomach. He tried to double over, but the arms holding him prevented it. She’d punched him!}

^{“Look you stupid fuck,” Mishu barked, her voice icy, “I don’t have time for this shit. Tell me where he is right now, or you will seriously regret it.”}

^{Nothing like a threat on your personal safety to get rid of an erection real quick.}

^{Ephraim swallowed, his stomach tight. What was he going to do? He didn’t know what she wanted to know and she wouldn’t believe him if he told her a thousand times. So what could he do?}

^{“All right! All right! He told me he was going to Canada.” He could lie like his life depended on it, which, sadly enough, it probably did.}

^{Mishu arched one perfectly sculpted eyebrow, “more specific.”}

^{Ephraim paused for dramatic effect, “um, Quebec, I think. He took the bus this morning.”}

^{“You idiot,” she growled. She punched him in the stomach. One, two, three, by the fourth Ephraim couldn’t breathe anymore. He started to see black bursts. On the sixth, the guy holding him let go and his legs buckled. Mishu started kicking him. She was screaming insults, but Ephraim couldn’t understand her with his ears ringing so loudly.}

^{He tasted something warm and irony in his mouth.}

^{Then it was dark and quiet.}

^{*12 ba}

^{There was pain, but it was covered and dulled by warmth and pressure; light on his stomach where he ached the most, and against his left arm, pining it to his side.}

^{Somehow, that minimal amount of contact made him feel secure, protected; which was strange, considering the last thing he remembered was getting the shit kicked out of him. Understandably, he was not interested in opening his eyes to find out if he was mistaken in his security.}

^{It was quiet, just the familiar, distant whoosh of cars. No voices.}

^{Ephraim cracked an eyelid. It was the same filthy ceiling he saw every afternoon. He was in bed.}

^{He opened his cobalt eyes. There was a pale hand resting on the molted dark purples of his bare stomach. The bruises looked painful, but the ache was warm and distant.}

^{Ephraim turned his head to find Azriel cradled against him, eyes closed, white hair falling across his small face in graceful wisps. His salmon-colored lips were parted slightly to accommodate slow, controlled breaths.}

^{If they hadn’t been touching, Ephraim would have insisted that he was hallucinating. Azriel had left, and he could find no conceivable reason why the boy would return to help him. Maybe he’d never really left at all.}

^{As if sensing Ephraim’s thoughts, sable eyes opened under the veil of white.}

^{“How are you feeling?” Azriel asked drowsily, voice subdued.}

^{“Better than I should be, considering.”}

^{“Good.” He smiled languidly, his eyes half-closing.}

^{“Are you ok?”}

^{“Just tired.”}

^{Long pause. Ephraim stared at the ceiling, suddenly uncomfortable with the closeness of those cryptic eyes.}

^{“I’m sorry,” Azriel apologized somberly.}

^“Why?”

^{“I didn’t mean to get you involved in my problems. You’ve been nothing but kind to me and you got hurt for your efforts.”}

^{Ephraim shrugged; which actually kind of hurt. “It’s ok. I’ve been through worse.”}

^{“You’re lying, but thanks anyway,” Azriel mumbled, still mostly groggy.}

^{“I…” thought you left. He couldn’t finish the sentence; it felt too weird. He couldn’t say it because then he’d have to ask why Azriel came back. He couldn’t possibly ask that, he’d have to admit that he’d been concerned, that finding Azriel laying with him coincided suspiciously with the dissolve of that mini-glacier in his stomach.}

^{“Can I stay? For a couple of days. I have no place to go,” the question was tentative, barely audible, and Azriel averted his eyes. A tremor caused the hand resting on Ephraim’s stomach to shiver.}

^{His heart skittered. “Yes. As long as you need.” The answer rushed out of his mouth almost before the other boy could finish his question.}

^{Azriel let out his held breath in a quiet gush. “Thank you.”}

^{“You should probably go to sleep.” Ephraim pointed out.}

^{Azriel nodded, then let his eyes close. He squirmed closer to the black-haired boy, needing his warmth as much as it made it easier for him to dull the pain in Ephraim’s body. Miracles, even the small ones, always made him cold.}

^{Ephraim sighed. He was not nervous about the boy nuzzling next to him, he smelled like raspberries.}

^{Ephraim closed his eyes, and felt protected.}

~Onwari