Similis

The film was flickering to a close, the credits rolling, but Haze showed no inclination to move away. Head resting on Bruce's shoulder, he turned and gazed at him. Something unspoken thrilled through the air between them. Bruce's pulse began to race.



Leaning over, Haze placed a questioning kiss on the side of Bruce's cheek. Not intruding, merely enquiring.



Despite his surprise, Bruce felt himself beginning to respond. Running his lips across the youth's he tasted sweetness and spice. The kiss deepened, Haze opening his mouth and inviting him in.



Heat flared between their bodies, and Bruce's clothes were suddenly far too warm. A firm hand slid down his abs, fingertips nudging under his waistband, seeking bare flesh and finding it.



Returning the gesture, Bruce skimmed smooth skin with his palms, hands full of Haze. Lying back on the sofa, with the youth stretched out practically on top of him, he found himself actively enjoying and participating as he was licked and kissed with increasing interest. Even the dim lighting in the room was not enough to hide the sculpted perfection of the youthful body.



So beautiful… Suddenly desperately conscious of his own imperfections, Bruce floundered. "No…" He choked out the faint protest. "I'm not … " Not what? Available? That way inclined? Flattered? He didn't know anymore.



Although the articles that he had accepted for so long as absolute now seemed utterly unimportant, he could not bring himself to lie to the boy and deny wanting Haze's touch. However, Bruce also knew only too well how anything of this nature would end, and why. Miserable and awkward, he rolled away, putting space between himself and the marvellous youth.



"Haze, I…" The emotions were too raw, too new and far too volatile for Bruce to rush headlong into this. "I don’t expect you to understand. I like you, and I really like having you here. I'm just not used to letting anyone get close to me." He said honestly. To his amazement, a soft hand rested on his arm, as if offering an apology ...



Or accepting one?



"I don't mind you asking. Far from it." Bruce told the silent youth. "In fact I'm deeply flattered. But you need to understand that no matter how much I want this, and I do, it isn't likely that I'll be able to give you what you want."



Haze waited, eyebrow raised in question.



"Haze…" Bruce sighed, every molecule utterly longing to simply accommodate the silent request, while already knowing that the attempt was doomed to disappointment. The life of a crime fighter was brutal, and gradually the cumulative injuries had taken their toll on him.



"It's not you." He turned, running a nervous finger along the line of Haze's jaw, "I never expected to discuss this, not with anyone, it's too … personal, but I need you to understand exactly why this can't work. I was hurt badly, a long time ago: nerve damage … and now I … can't… do some things." He said quietly, hoping that Haze would understand the rest of what he was trying to convey.



Haze leant in and kissed a soft trail along the curve of Bruce's neck, embracing him tenderly, pulling Bruce to him and tracing the edge of Bruce's jaw with his lips.



Oh Lord, he still wants me …



Abandoning himself to the sheer pleasure of Haze's touch, Bruce closed his eyes, and let Haze have his way. Now that he had been totally honest with the lad his conscience was clear, and to find that he was still desirable despite his flaws was more than he had hoped for.



But how much can I do … and will that be enough?



Completely undaunted, the youth's tongue slicked over his mouth, delicately seeking entrance. Parting his lips, Bruce allowed Haze entry, heart rate rising as his mouth was explored with total dedication.



Perhaps it's time to find out?







Shifting position with the dexterity of a cat and leaning around Bruce so that they sat almost face-to-face. Haze encouraged Bruce to return the favour, opening his own mouth against Bruce's lips and sucking tenderly as Bruce inserted his tongue, inviting him to do far more.



Panting, and dishevelled, they pulled apart momentarily. Tugging his t-shirt off and discarding it, Haze wrapped himself back against Bruce, moulding his chest to Bruce as if he had been made just for that purpose.



Revelling in the feel of hot skin against his shirt, Bruce realised that he was still almost fully dressed, while Haze was already half-naked.



Naked Haze, Bruce thought muzzily, Sounds wonderful! He shifted to allow the wandering hands to ease the bottom of his t-shirt out from the waistband of his jogging pants.



Satisfied, Haze tugged the shirt off completely.



This time as the questing fingers dipped lower, Bruce did not protest as he felt the slight pull on the elastic of his jogging bottoms. "I won't stop you looking if you really want to, but it's not pretty." He warned. "I've got scars everywhere."



Haze kissed him firmly, swallowing all of his mumbled protestations with passionate enthusiasm, and slickly removing the last bastion of Bruce's modesty with one swift movement while Bruce was thoroughly distracted by the youth's incredibly dextrous tongue.



"That's cheating." The older man gasped, once he could trust himself to speak again. "Haze, I …"



Pressing a finger to Bruce's lips, Haze shook his head and waited for Bruce to understand.



"I suppose you're trying to tell me that it doesn't matter?" Bruce guessed. "Maybe it won't, maybe you can see past the scars, Haze." He looked away, "But I don’t know if I can just ignore them. Every one serves to remind me of another moment of stupidity."



Haze shook his head and fixed him with a sterner gaze.



"I know. I'm an idiot to let the past hold me back, but it's the way I am." For a moment harsh reality intruded, leaving Bruce uncomfortably aware that he was currently sitting on the edge of the sofa, with his joggers and boxers rolled down around his ankles, wrapped in the arms of a very sexy and very aroused youth. Granted the last parts made up for nearly everything else.



'No.' The response was plain enough, even though Bruce was not overly familiar with 'Haze-speak'.



Haze pointed down at Bruce's legs. 'Look' The sign was quite unambiguous.



Obediently following the focus of Haze's attention, Bruce could see nothing on his skin.



"Nothing?" He blinked and looked again. Where was the angry red line from last week's chase? The four white rings in his right thigh, courtesy of one of the Joker's little torments? Come to that, where was the small dent just above his kneecap from the cartilage operation two years ago?



"Haze?" Bruce turned to the youth at his side. "Is this your doing?"



Shyly, Haze nodded.



"I don’t know what to say…" Bruce sat and looked in awe at the miracle that was his companion. "How? Why?"



Rubbing one hand over the other in a smooth movement, Haze indicated that he had dealt with the problem. At which point, the youth abruptly lost interest in providing explanations, preferring to energetically re-align himself against Bruce instead.



"Stop and let me take those jeans off you…" Bruce breathed. That seemed to be acceptable, as Haze smiled; teeth white in the dimness of the room.



"I want to see you." Reverently Bruce stripped away the thick fabric, revealing tightly bunched muscles and seemingly endless golden flesh. "All of you." The scent of the younger man drew him. He inhaled deeply, pressing smiling lips against the flawless skin and nipping his way up along Haze's thighs and along his flanks.



"Uh-uh…" Deliberately teasing Haze, Bruce bypassed the obvious place, concentrating instead on exploring the washboard abs and mounded pec's with the tip of his tongue.



"Patience…" Catching Haze around both biceps, he leant in and tongued each nipple in turn.



However, once set on something, Haze was apparently not easily distracted. The youth began an equally energetic campaign of exploration of his own.



"No fair, Haze …" Bruce drew a hurried breath as a finger skimmed the inside of his thigh. "That's cheating…"



As the youth's hands touched him increasingly intimately, Bruce began to succumb. Skin brushed over skin with an almost electric tingle, sending a shudder of ecstasy rippling along his entire body.



"Oh, god…" He moaned, "Haze … " His whispered words were cut off as the sensation swelled at the deft stroke of fingers over the sensitive skin of his inner thigh, running up along the crease of his groin. With just enough presence of mind left to toe the bunched fabric off his ankles, Bruce abandoned himself to the eager attention.







Contented, Bruce turned to the youth wrapped in his arms. Leaning on Bruce's broad chest, chin resting in cupped hands, Haze returned the attention with no hint of awkwardness.



Encouraged by the youth's easy manner, Bruce smiled. Now that they had been so intimate, he felt comfortable enough to risk looking a little foolish. There was something in the back of his mind that he felt that he needed to raise with the dark-haired lad.



"You'll probably think that this is hilarious, but while you were healing me that first time … I could have sworn that you had …" Bruce flushed. How best to phrase it? He wondered why he was embarrassing himself like this? Why had he even said anything?



"Well, that I saw …" He hesitated, aware that his cheeks were burning.



Haze grinned encouragingly.



"Okay, at the risk of sounding completely insane … I thought you had wings." Bruce finished sheepishly. "Is having delusions normal when someone is being healed the way you do it?"



Haze merely smiled and caught hold of Bruce's hands. Clasping them between his palms, he stretched luxuriously and a tiny tremor passed through him. Immediately the ceiling lights were obscured by rich blackberry coloured wings.



"Oh … my … god …" There were very few situations in which Bruce found himself without anything at all to contribute, but this was certainly one of them. He stared at the mighty pinions, at the light reflecting mistily along the glossy feathers, and felt the soft breath of air displaced by even the slight movement of the sail-like appendages.



"You do have wings … you really are an angel…" He was dumbstruck. I just fucked an Angel!



Leaning forward, Haze kissed him tenderly.



"They're real…" Bruce whispered, recovering his voice, if not his wits. "They are, aren't they? I'm not going mad?"



Reaching out with one hand Haze grasped the leading edge of one wing and pulled it over for Bruce to inspect, tugging it downward with the casual ease that a professional dancer or gymnast might pose and extend a leg.



Swallowing hard, Bruce tentatively ran the tips of his fingers along the surface of the tightly bunched feathers. They had to be real. No way could insanity be this convincing! The feeling was like nothing he had ever experienced. The smaller feathers were soft, almost fluffy against his fingers, whereas the longer ones were harder, densely packed and felt papery stiff.



Grinning, Haze dug his fingers into the mass and tugged, tweaking out a single loose feather and presenting it to Bruce. Fluffing up the rest and settling them into proper order, he despatched the wings back to wherever they had been, before winking at his lover in delight.



Bruce was fascinated "So where do they go when you …" He waved his hand at Haze.



Haze shrugged. Rolling off Bruce he sat up and allowed the other man to run questioning fingers over his back.



"There's no trace of them." Bruce marvelled.



The youth signed that the wings were definitely still part of him.



"Different dimension? Different time?" Bruce suggested.



Haze half-shrugged.



"Sorry. It's the Bat part of my nature. Once I get started on something, I can be a bit obsessive…" Bruce apologised.



Grinning wolfishly Haze took Bruce's face in both hands and nipped at his lips, teasing at the older man's mouth until Bruce opened up enough to let the questing tongue dip inside. And apparently I'm not the only one. Which given the current situation, was most definitely no bad thing.



"Oh, so you want to play again, and you won’t take 'no' for an answer?" Bruce laughed. "Well, I'm up for that, but who would have thought that angels were so randy? Or is it only gorgeous dark-haired boy angels?"



Haze laughed silently, and started to kiss and suck his way down along Bruce's neck and shoulders. Taking the upper position, he teased and rubbed until Bruce was tight and aching for release.



"Ride me." Bruce whispered. "Let me fuck you…"



Obligingly Haze took position above his hips and allowed Bruce to enter him. With Haze still thoroughly lubricated from their previous session, it took almost no effort for Bruce to insert himself deep into the welcoming passage. Lifting his hips he worked his full length in and out of the youth, pleasuring them both.



"Haze…" The question rose to his lips and demanded to be asked. Pale eyes locked onto his, pupils dark with desire.



"Would you…"



An enquiring eyebrow lifted.



Bruce ran both hands up along the youth's arms, stroking him. "Would you let me see your wings again? While we're …"



Haze blushed and shivered, which was pleasurable enough in itself, abruptly the air above them both was once more filled with dark glossy feathers.



Seeing the huge wings did something to Bruce, something he couldn't describe, only appreciate. As he pressed harder and deeper, he continued to stare up at the mighty pinions, utterly absorbed as the wings lifted and flexed over the pair of them.



Finally, as Haze approached climax, his wings stretched to their maximum, tensed and rigid.



The sight of it sent Bruce over the edge, and he groaned, expending his seed into the angel.



Seconds later Haze came too, pressing increasingly urgently against Bruce, wings vibrating fiercely, and then spent he sank back down onto his lover, draping bonelessly over across the larger man's chest.



"That was incredible…" Bruce whispered, running still-shaky fingers through the dark curls and brushing a damp ringlet back from Haze's forehead. "You are incredible… " Sweaty and sated, the angel merely nodded slightly, and let himself be petted.