Title: Angel in the sky
Author: Erika ([email protected])
Pairing / Main characters: Angel/Angel (X-men/Angel crossover)
Summary: When an angel falls from heaven, do we hear its cries?
Disclaimer: I am just borrowing them, and I promise to give them back to you as good as new. Okay, maybe a little bit used but that is like not my fault.
Warning: graphic m/m-sex
Angel in the sky
Another night in the demon-hunting business, Angel thought as he made his nightly rounds. Cordelia and Wesley were still in Sunnydale researching information on the Egyptian artefact they found a week ago, and he was making his way to see Gunn. He turned around a corner and went down an alley where he suddenly came to a standstill. There were two people nearby. It turned out to be two teenagers, necking.
Angel scared them off. They shouldn't be here in this part of town. He was about to walk away when he noticed something on the sidewalk. A magazine? He picked it up. No. Comic book. New. Probably one of the kids had dropped it. Angel folded the comic book and put it inside his jacket. Even demon-hunting had slow nights; maybe if things got boring he'd read it.
The vampire was about to walk down the alley when something heavy fell upon him. He hit his head on the pavement and lost consciousness.
No! Please. Pain. Oh God. The pain.
Warren could do nothing as he lost control of his wings and fell from the sky. Mid-fall he regained enough control of his flight to crash-land on top of an abandoned building somewhere in Los Angeles.
His body hurt, especially the area around the shoulder blades. Lying there on the rooftop, he could hear some commotion coming from the alley down below but he was too weak to go down and investigate.
He had to get back to the mansion, Warren told himself as he fought the pain and nausea that was now assaulting him. Had to talk with Beast. Hank would know what to do.
Maybe he was experiencing phantom pain again, something that used to occur daily when he first lost his feathered wings, but time had tempered its occurrence. He lifted his metal wings and again sought flight but he soon found himself falling to the ground. Lying on the pavement, Warren realized that his fall had been cushioned by the body now spread out beneath him. The body of a man.
Warren quickly checked for a pulse and found none. As he checked the man for injuries, he hunched over in pain.
He had to get out of here. He searched the man's pockets and found his wallet. A card fell to the ground, he picked it up. Angel Investigations: We help the needy, was written on the card. A phone number and address were also listed. Digging through the wallet he found a driver's licence. The address listed was the same as the one on the card.
The pain by now had subsided. Now or never, he thought. Warren lifted the man up and carried him in his arms. He took to the sky feeling the wind caress his cheek.
Angel woke up alone on his bed. He sat up, only to lie straight back down again, feeling the pounding at the back of his head. The room was dark except for a lamp on the far side of the bed. Something must have fallen on top of him. A body perhaps? But that did not explain what he was doing here. How he went from being in the alley to his basement apartment?
He closed his eyes to fight off the dizziness only to open them when he heard someone approach him. Had it not been for his vampiric senses, Angel would not have detected the other man. The stranger approached him, silently, carrying something in his hand. The man was wearing spandex that covered all of his body. Maybe he was still affected by the fall because he could swear the man's skin was blue.
He waited until the stranger was within arm's reach and then he pounced, pinning the man to the floor.
"Get off me!" the man shouted at him. "I was trying to..." The man shoved Angel aside and that was when the vampire noticed the wings. Wings made of metal, sharp as a knife.
Angel reached to the wall behind him and turned on the main light. The man stood in front of him, metal wings spread out, hands clenched at his side, blond hair, blue eyes, blue skin and a face that surely would have tempted many an artist. Full lips and a body covered in white-blue spandex that did little to hide the form of its wearer. A gold circle was drawn on the front of the uniform.
What kind of creature is this? he wondered. Whatever questions he would have asked were left unspoken when the man in front of him suddenly collapsed and screamed in pain. The man flexed his metal wings. They moved up and down, protecting their owner from danger, at least that was what Angel assumed until he smelled blood. Fresh blood.
Angel cautiously approached the stranger and heard him whisper one word, "Please." The blue skinned angel raised his face; blond locks fell down partly covering one eye. Pain filled eyes looked at Angel begging him for help. Metal wings again moved as the man continued to kneel on the floor.
A wound suddenly opened from the tip of the man's shoulder blade down to his back, blood flowing freely, hitting the wooden floor.
Angel reined in his vampirism at the sight and smell of blood. He rushed to the bathroom and brought back with him a first aid kit and clean towels.
What Angel saw next shocked him to his very core. Humps appeared on the back of the man's back, breaking through the blue skin. The tips of the metal wings spilled forth blood and cracks appeared along their metal frames. The man's anguished cries touched Angel's heart.
"Please," the man again pleaded. "I cannot go through this again. I can't lose them again. For the love of god, not again." The man hunched over, spreading his metal wings away from his body, screaming through the pain and then... feathers. Feathers appeared through the metal wing's cracks. Blood covered feathers.
Angel stood rooted, watching this display as the metal wings broke apart to reveal white feathered wings. The man in front of him finally collapsed from exhaustion and pain.
The vampire rushed to the man's side and wrapped the towels around him. He was careful to sidestep the metal shards that now lay on the floor, the only evidence of the metal wings that no longer existed.
Angel carried the man to the bathroom and put him underneath the showerhead. He turned on the water spraying them both. Angel quickly stripped the man of his torn uniform, marvelling at the blueness of his skin. Gently he cleansed the blood off the wings and bruised body. He then cautiously wrapped a towel around the still unconscious form and carried the man to the bed.
He laid the man down on the satin sheets, covering him with blankets. Angel then set about cleaning up the damage done to the floor and the blood spattered tub.
Two and a half hours later and Angel admitted to being tired. He had thrown the torn uniform and metal shards in the garbage where they would be picked up tomorrow by the city cleaners. He had hurriedly scrubbed the bloodstained floor and thrown the wrecked towels in the washing machine. He was actually quite pleased with himself, having done so much in so little time. One of the benefits of being a vampire, you knew how to clean off blood even from your hardwood floors. In the end, as he looked around the room he was satisfied to see that all evidence of the stranger's violent transformation into an angelic-like creature had been erased from the room.
As Angel moved back to the bedroom he noted that the covers on the bed had slid off onto the floor. He stared at the nude body displayed on the bed, marvelling at its beauty. It was almost impossible to believe that just a few hours ago that body had been covered in blood. Angel found himself reaching out to touch a feather. Its softness intrigued him.
His fingertips gently caressed the spread wings. Silently, he took out his drawing pad hidden in the small lamp table beside his bed. He set about drawing the figure before him.
It was only when the other man stirred, shivering slightly, his hands reaching out for blankets that still lay on the floor that Angel realized that more than an hour had passed since he sat down to draw the other man.
He watched as a blue hand was raised to rub at sleep-filled eyes and Angel forced himself to sit still as those eyes finally opened.
Warren was tired and bruised, that much he knew. He could not believe how cold he felt, feeling the goose bumps rising along his blue skin. His hands sought out blankets to cover his naked form, but he must have tossed them aside during his sleep. He had dreamed that he had fallen from the sky, crushing a man to death. No. The man lived and then things got worse.
Pain. That was all he could remember, pain. The feeling of pain, as blood dripped to the floor, metal wings that broke to reveal... he stopped. So many times in the past he had dreamed of regaining his lost limbs. The wings that defined who he was: as a man, a mutant, a hero. A time before Sinister. Before the Horseman. Before evil, when he still had a soul. An angel soul.
A part of Warren knew that by opening his eyes he would be admitting to the truth. It was all just a dream. A hopeless dream.
Warren wearily rubbed his sleepy eyes. It was time to face the music.
Eyes as blue as the morning sky, Angel thought, watching as the other man awoke. The man gently sat up on the bed, unconscious of his naked form. He flexed his wings and they came up and around to cover the man's upper torso. He looked at them in shock, touching them gently.
Tears ran down his face. Angel watched as the man continued to caress the feathered wings, a smile forming over his lips.
"This isn't a dream?" he asked.
"No," Angel answered.
The stranger quickly got out of bed and stood up. He quickly spread his new wings to their full capacity. At first they moved gently, creating a slight breeze throughout the room. The stranger touched the wings with reverence.
Angel observed as the stranger's shoulders quivered and a sob escaped the man's lips. He reached over to comfort him and was embraced.
"Are you alright?" he asked with concern.
"Yes... yes. I am now."
From the way he said that the man appeared to be answering more than that question. Angel let the man go and stepped back but the stranger reached for him.
"Who are you?" the man asked him.
"Angel," he answered.
The man stared at him. "Really?" Disbelief and laughter could be heard in his voice.
"Yes," Angel confirmed.
The man started to chuckle, and then the chuckles turned into laughter until the man was holding his sides. The strangeness of the scene before him made the vampire forget his own loneliness and desperation that normally made him push aside human contact. Here was a man, an angel, with blue skin, standing naked in front of him, tears of laughter falling down his face. He has the bluest eyes, Angel thought.
"I'm sorry, it just ..." the man smiled sheepishly and flapped the white wings.
"So I gather your name is ..."
"Warren. Warren Worthington the Third." Angel just stared at the smiling blue creature in front of him. "But I am also called Archangel." The eyes turned serious, revealing pain underneath the smile. "Um... do you think I could borrow some clothes?" The laughter was back in the man's voice.
"Of course." Slightly embarrassed, Angel walked over to the dresser.
"Jogging pants would do," Warren informed him.
Angel handed him a pair of pants. He was about to step back, let the man dress in privacy when he saw him sway. Angel quickly reached out for Warren, steadying him.
"Sorry. I think the transformation took a bit more out of me than I first thought."
Angel helped Warren over to the bed. "Rest. I'll get you something to eat."
Angel rushed upstairs. Cordelia usually kept food in the small refrigerator upstairs. Opening the icebox he found some half-eaten salad Cordelia had left behind, an apple and a few slices of cheese. It would have to do.
He made his way downstairs only to discover the basement apartment empty of its occupant. He breathed in deeply and followed the other man's scent. He travelled to the roof and found his quarry gazing up to the evening sky, his wings spread out, one hand holding onto the blanket wrapped around his chest, the other hand reaching out toward the heavens.
"Warren?" Angel called to him softly, not wishing to disturb him.
"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Warren told him, like he was confirming something he had once forgotten. "Long ago, I had wings just like these, soft and pure." He touched the wings gently. "They used to call me Angel then."
"What happened?" the vampire asked hearing both the pain and the longing in Warren's voice.
"Someone broke them."
Angel's fist clenched at the thought of someone inflicting that level of violence and pain on the man standing before him.
Warren glanced at Angel. Strands of his blond hair fell across his face. He brushed them aside. "Come with me."
"Up there," Warren told him, pointing to the evening sky.
"You sure? You still seem a bit weak."
"We'll get some food along the way."
Warren dropped the blanket covering him to reveal jogging pants underneath. He smiled mischievously at Angel.
"Actually, how about you eat something first," Angel informed him, stepping away from temptation.
Warren just shook his head, he advanced towards Angel his smile growing wider. Before Warren could tackle Angel and fly off with him, the vampire sidestepped out of the way and caught the laughing man in his arms.
"Alright, you win. Food first." Warren turned his head to the side and they both found themselves staring into each other eyes.
Blue eyes twinkling mischievously at Angel, a blond streak of hair curved around the contours of Warren's face, his blue skin giving him an exotic alluring appearance and Angel finally bowed to the attraction he had been fighting these past few hours and his lips sought the other man's mouth.
"I thought," Warren started to say in between kisses, "you said food first."
Angel just continued to kiss him, his hands travelling up and down Warren's chest. The X-man moaned and his wings started to quiver slightly. Angel kissed Warren one more time then took a step back and he started to undress. The brown silk shirt hit the floor followed by his boots and the black leather pants. His boots were tossed further away when Warren almost tripped over them. Warren laughed and Angel reached out for him again.
The vampire hands quickly ripped apart Warren's borrowed jogging pants and they finally came to rest along Warren's buttocks. The man squirmed when Angel moved his hand from his rear and instead started to stroke his back at the tender spot where his wings joined. As Angel continued to stroke this erogenous zone, Warren's quivering intensified.
"What's the most comfortable position for you?" Angel asked Warren huskily.
"Top," Warren moaned back his answer.
Angel nodded; he then dropped to the floor using his discarded clothes to provide cushioning for his knees.
He took Warren's cock in his hand and brought it to his mouth. Angel gently sucked the tip, he swirled his tongue along the edge.
Warren gasped. His hands were tightly clenched at his sides to keep him from reaching out toward Angel.
The vampire let go of Warren's shaft and sucked two fingers inside his own mouth. Fingers covered with saliva reached out to stroke Warren's shaft from tip to base, and then they moved to gently caress the area near the cleft. Angel again took the X-man's penis inside his mouth, as his fingertips massaged the tender underside of Warren's balls.
Angel closed his eyes and slowly relaxed his jaw muscles, taking in his lover's cock a bit at a time. Angel's hand that had been resting on Archangel's hip moved along Warren's buttocks. His hand gently patted Warren's rear as his other hand massaged the entrance of the small hole. One finger finally entered Warren and he bucked pushing his penis further down Angel's throat. The finger that moved quickly in and out of Warren's body was soon joined by another.
Warren moaned aloud calling his lover's name again and again. "Angel... Angel."
The vampire opened his eyes to see the man standing above him with his wings stretched, his legs apart, his back slightly arched trying desperately to keep himself from falling, from climaxing too quickly.
Angel withdrew his fingers took one final lick at Warren's shaft before getting up and kissing his lover on the mouth allowing him to taste himself on Angel's lips.
Warren moaned, his arms coming around Angel, his tongue mapping the contours of the vampire's mouth.
Angel stepped back and away. He soon found himself chuckling at the way the other man started to pout. "Behave," Angel informed him as he turned his back toward Warren.
"Angel?" Warren asked, slightly confused.
"You told me you were top, remember?"
"But we're standing and..."
"No buts. I want you in me now."
Warren kissed the back of Angel's neck. He took his own penis in his hand, stroking it up and down. With his other hand he caught the fluid released and coated his cock with it. Using a bit of the precum he quickly prepared Angel. The vampire could feel as Warren's fingers stretched his opening, and he started to whimper thrusting back hitting the tip of Warren's shaft.
The X-man licked the back of Angel's neck one more time as one hand went around the vampire holding him up. This hand rested along Angel's chest, while the other hand helped guide his cock to the small hole.
Warren pushed forward allowing just the head of his cock to enter Angel. He waited and moved forward again, quivering slightly as he felt the other man envelope him.
Angel arched his back and pressed back onto Warren. He gasped when he felt himself being penetrated completely, fully.
"Warren," Angel pleaded with him.
"Wait." Warren’s wings came to wrap around them, covering them both, their tips gently tickling Angel's upper body. The wings flapped back and forth, gently, and Angel could feel as the feathers touched every part of him, caressing him slowly. As this continued Warren thrust into Angel, using steady strokes, increasing the rhythm, branding the vampire as his.
A day later.
From where he sat, Angel watched Warren lying on his stomach. His wings spread out taking up most of the space on the bed. They had just finished making love over an hour ago and Warren had fallen asleep soon afterward.
The vampire traced his fingers along the X-man's foot to his calf, up his thigh, over the buttocks and onto his back. Smoothness. Skin so soft. His tongue retraced the same path. He felt Warren shiver. Angel stopped. Warren was still asleep, the pattern of his heart rate had not changed.
He touched the feathers one more time, resting his face along their contour. He inhaled their scent, their muskiness. This is what heaven must be like, he thought.
Gently, using his hands he massaged Warren's back taking care of where the wings connected with the rest of his lover's body. Warren moaned. His lover had awakened.
"Angel." A moan. A whisper. A curse. A prayer. They were all one and the same.
With both hands on Warren's hips, he urged him upward until his lover was on all fours, his arms bent in front of him, supporting his weight. Angel bent down to lick the spot that would soon have his blue creature squirming and begging for release. Sweetness. Angel's tongue paused at the centre of Warren's tight hole. Wings quivered, and rustled.
When his blue angel thrust back the vampire's tongue slid easily inside. Warren screamed, his wings spreading as though seeking flight.
Heaven. Angel's eyes turned yellow as he increased the pressure in that small tight hole. He went deeper, faster, harder.
Warren groaned, his head falling back.
Taken. He needed to claim him again. One more time. Not enough. Never will be.
One of the vampire's hands settled on his lover's shaft, possessively. Mine, he thought. Just his. The other hand guided his entry into that glorious body. Perfect.
They moved as one. The climax came too soon for both of them. They had only tasted a bit of heaven.
Angel stretched lazily on the bed. Two days had passed since the night he had met Warren. After their first encounter at the rooftop they had moved downstairs to Angel's apartment, taking advantage of the soft bed, spending most of their time, sleeping, talking or making love.
He opened his eyes only to discover Cordelia's concerned face staring back at him. "Agh!" The vampire fell off the bed and his body hit the floor. "Cordelia!"
"Angel, are you all right? We were concerned about you."
"What?" Angel got up from the floor. Where was Warren? He heard Cordelia snicker beside him. He looked back at her and found Cordelia looking at... he quickly grabbed the blankets trying to hide his nude state. Unbeknownst to them a feather fell to the floor. "Cordelia!"
"It's not like I haven't seen one before. Although not an uncircumcised one. Does that..."
"Stop yelling, you'll wake the dead."
Angel counted to ten and reminded himself that killing her would be more trouble than it was worth.
"You're supposed to have met Gunn two days ago. What happened? We were getting concerned."
Angel sat on the foot of the bed. No sign of Warren. "OW!"
Cordelia had hit him on the back of the head. "That's for making me worry." She grabbed the pillow. "This is for making me come back early from my vacation!"
Angel got up and took the pillow from her. "You weren't on vacation. You were researching..." He never got to finish the sentence as Cordelia hit him with a magazine.
"I was on vacation!" She dropped the magazine on the bed and angrily walked to the elevator.
Angel wrapped the blankets tighter around his body. He picked up the magazine and his eyes widened in shock when he saw the cover. Warren. This was the comic book he had picked up from those kids two days ago. A comic book based on a blue-skinned hero. A blue-skinned angel. He flipped through the pages of the story, not wanting to believe the evidence in front of him.
If had all been a dream. Warren had been a figment of his imagination, more precisely, a comic book hero. He wasn't real. Was never meant to be real.
The two days they had spent together making love, sharing secrets, that was just a dream. Angel reached for his sketchpad and found three pictures he had drawn of Warren. Three portraits depicting his lover at rest, another showing the vulnerability the young man hid beneath his exterior and the last picture of Warren coaxing a pigeon to play. The pictures were real even if the memories appeared to be false.
Angel clenched his fist, hitting the pillow on the bed. The pillow broke and feathers were released, scattering about. Angel shook, his hands touching the feathers, remembering the softness of Warren's wings. He got up and gathered the blankets, covered in goose feathers, and threw them in the trash.
He wanted no memories of fate's cruel joke. Angel quickly showered and dressed, making his way upstairs refusing to dwell on the impossible.
Had Angel taken the time to examine those feathers the vampire would have noticed that one feather in particular was bigger than the rest, softer, smoother and its scent still carried the uniqueness that was Warren Worthington.