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Zane was suddenly engulfed by something soft and warm. He frowned down at the arms around his waist and the feeling of a warm body behind him.
That was strange enough but it was the white feathers threaded with gold fluttering around him that made him jerk away.
The warmth was gone as suddenly as it came and Zane whirled around, mouth falling open at the man standing in his kitchen. A man with wings. Oh god, just how much had he drunk last night to be hallucinating such a thing in the light of day?
"Are you real?" he whispered
"Yes"
"Am i dead?" it seemed like the next logical question, when one had what was clearly an angel in his kitchen.
The angel shook his head “No.” he sighed and muttered ”Strike three”
Zane’s brow furrowed at that. No idea what it could mean, but then again did it matter?
The angel had said he was real, but was that just his hungover brain playing tricks on him? Because he was definitely not ready to belief angels were real and that he had a real live one in his house.
He rubbed his aching head and watched warily as the angel approached. A thumb brushed beneath his eyes, wiping away his tears and Zane was captivated by the angel’s eyes. They were green with flecks of gold and brown, and he gasped as he remembered.
"You’re the man from last night" It all came rushing back to him then, even the name he’d been given "Beau."
"Well Beaumont, but Beau is fine too" The angel’s smile was the most radiant thing Zane had ever seen, and for a moment it fogged his already fuzzy brain. And he couldn’t remember what he was about to say.
He shook his head, fighting to clear away the fogginess “What do you want from me?”
"Nothing." The angel, Beau, reached out and ruffled his hair "You need a haircut. You need to take better care of yourself Zane."
He should pull away, he really should. But the feel of that hand carding through his unruly curls had him closing his eyes and leaning into the touch.
The brush of those wings against his bare arm caused him to open his eyes and he suddenly wanted to reach out and touch too. Beau was taking some liberties touching him so why shouldn’t he?
But he was dealing with a celestial being and maybe just reaching out and touching a feather, without permission, was not the best idea. so he took and breath and asked “May i touch them?”
****************
Strike three
This was madness. He had allowed his human to see him, as he truly was. This was definitely the third strike.
Showing himself was one thing, but showing himself with his wings uncloaked, very very bad.
Touching the man? Also bad.
And now Zane was asking him to touch his wings. He should just wipe his memory and get out of here, before he made any more transgressions.
"Please?"
The word was murmured so softly, he almost didn’t catch it. But he was way too attuned to Zane Garrett to be unaware of anything he did or said.
And against his better judgement, Beaumont nodded.
The brush of Zane’s hand against his feathers made him shiver. Angels wings were a map of nerves and the sensation of that hand tentatively exploring had him biting is lip.
Bad idea, bad idea, bad idea.
"Soft" Zane kept up the stroking and petting until Beaumont felt he would lose his mind.
"Enough, please" He pulled away so suddenly that Zane’s hand still hovered in the air where his wings had been moments ago.
Zane blinked and dropped his arm “Sorry. It’s not everyday i get an angel in my kitchen”
"They’re are just very sensitive" Beaumont told the man. "Besides, i shouldn’t have let you done that."
"Oh"
The familiar tingle started at the base of his spine and Beaumont sighed “And i have to go.” He was being summoned. The tingle was getting stronger, the longer he ignored it, but he had to make Zane forget or he’d be in more trouble than he already was.
He closed the distance between them once more and touched Zane’s forehead.
"What’re you…?"
"Making you forget."
Zane’s eyes glazed over and Beaumont made his retreat.
***************
Zane blinked.
Why was he in the kitchen, just staring at nothing? He vaguely remembered coming down to the kitchen, then…nothing.
Were these nights of heavy drinking now messing with his memory? It was a possibility he supposed. So maybe you should stop. She wouldn’t want this for you.
"Shut up" he muttered. Stupid conscience. What did it know anyways.
You need to take better care of yourself Zane
He froze as that voice echoed in his head. Something tickled at the edges of his memory and he tried to reach for it but, nothing. That voice was different.
"You’re losing it Garrett" he shook his head and moved to go do something useful with himself. The feel of something beneath his bare foot caused him to look down.
Zane frowned. What the hell? A feather? He reached down, plucking the thing from the floor, eyes widening as he noticed threads of gold in between the white.
What the hell kind of bird had feathers like this? And this size? The feather seemed a tad bit too big for a normal sized bird. And where the hell did the thing come from?
He made to toss the thing in the garbage but stopped halfway there. The feather was kind of pretty. Becky would’ve liked it and probably kept it just because.
He clasped the feather in his hand and headed out the kitchen.