Chapter 7.2
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Note: This chapter contains sex between 2 men!


He set the dishes on the countertop and headed for the bathroom. Silence followed him, and he imagined Lynsael back at the table, continuing to check his wings. Blaine welcomed the calm.

After starting the shower, he left his clothes in a bundle on the top of the toilet lid, and slipped under the warm water. This was perfect quiet time to think about everything. Vanessa hadn't called yet and it was getting late in the day. The band had strived for this since they got together in high school. If they didn't get the gig, he didn't know what they were going to do. To top it off, Vince was being an ass, again.

Next, Blaine thought of Lynsael, and how every time he was close, Blaine would start to tremble. The flush that grew through his cheeks, and the way his heart stopped when Lyn kissed him. He was always so damned flustered when he saw Lynsael's smooth pale skin stretched taut against his lean chest; his contrasting black hair drooped across his broad shoulders. If only he could touch him without getting all confused; all damned hot inside.

The flush rose through Blaine again as he thought of pressing his lips to Lynsael's. Those handsome wings would flutter and wrap around them; they would embrace each other tight in wanton need. He would smell Lynsael's hair while kissing him sweetly across his neck.

Blaine's hardened cock quivered with the strain of the beating shower. He braced against the side of the tile, brushing a hand across his length. The water seemed to get hotter as he gripped his cock tight, imagining stripping Lynsael of his unsightly clothing. Lynsael's ethereal body would light up in the florescent lamps above. Blaine would circle his tongue around Lynsael's nipple, before taking his cock into his mouth.

“Shit...” he murmured; his own cock pulsed inside of his palm.

He trembled; the delicious orgasm so close.

A knock came at the door, followed by Lynsael's angelic voice, “Blaine?”

The door creaked open, and Blaine straightened before reaching around the shower curtain for a towel. “What?” he barked.

“I'm sorry to bother you, but you have a phone call.”

“Ugh,” Blaine pouted. Damn interruptions. “Why are you answering the phone? Tell them I'm busy.”

“But it's Vanessa from some Club Voodoo.”

Blaine quickly shut off the water, wrapped the towel around his waist, and pulled back the shower curtain. “Really? Shit!” He dashed from the bathroom into the kitchen, and quickly found the cordless phone lying on the counter. “Hello?”

“Blaine? Hey, it's Vanessa.”


“Is this a good time? I told whoever answered your phone that I could call back,” she said.

“No, no, I'm not busy.” Water and soap dripped to the tiled floor underneath him.

“Oh? Well, I have some fabulous news. Tommy loved your band's performance last Friday. We've decided to book you for the Friday spot. Can you guys be ready to come in this week?” Vanessa asked.

Blaine swore his heart stopped for the moment. “Yeah... yes, holy shit!” he breathed, hand to his dripping wet chest.

Vanessa chuckled. “Great. We do have a couple of things to go over with you guys before your gig, but otherwise, gather up a kick ass set, and the stage is 'Til Dark's every Friday night. See you then.”

“This is... awesome. Thank you.”

Just then, Lynsael strode into the room. Blaine set down the phone on the counter, reveling in the fact that they actually got the gig.

“What's going on?” Lynsael wondered.

“I... We got the spot at the club,” Blaine stuttered, still in shock.

“That's great.” Lynsael stepped close and stood beside Blaine.

Blaine splayed his hand across his face. He shook his head. “This is... unbelievable. I... this... it's the best luck I've had...” He looked to Lynsael, whom leaned against the counter next to him. “You sure you didn't have anything to do with this?”

Lynsael wrapped his arm around Blaine's neck. “I promise. This is all on you, Blaine. You made this happen yourself.”

Blaine's eyes widened to that fact. After years of shitty luck, he had finally turned it around.

“Lyn, I...” his words stuck on his tongue; the ethereal face carved in the bright lamps was so close, a soothing warmth radiated between them.

He narrowed his eyes and leaned closer, pressing his lips to Lynsael's. The flush rose through his cheeks, but he couldn't care now; he allowed the heady need to take him. He cupped Lynsael's face in his hand, opened his mouth, and sought out Lynsael's tongue.

Lynsael splayed his fingers across Blaine's naked chest and his heated touch made Blaine shiver. He slid his hand down to Blaine's stomach, and his rigid cock quivered against the soft towel around his waist.

They both pulled each other close. Blaine gripped Lynsael's sleeveless shirt and tugged it over his head, threw it across the counter top, and found those plump lips again. In the light, Lynsael's pale skin had come alive alike the fabulous statue had done, and Blaine couldn't help but glide his hands across Lynsael's chest, against his nipples.

A nip of cool air brushed against Blaine's naked ass as Lynsael stripped the towel from around his waist, and dropped it in a rustle on the floor.

Blaine suckled on Lynsael's lower lip and broke away to breathe out, “How is it... you do this to me?”

“What's that?” Lynsael whispered.

“Make me fall for you.”

Lynsael flattened his forehead against Blaine's, and narrowed his eyes. “I've already fallen for you.”

The confession seized at him, and Blaine realized he'd fallen for Lynsael too; it just took him awhile to confirm it with himself.

He found Lynsael's lips again; his hands trailed down the small of Lynsael's taut back to cup his ass. Blaine's heart thundered in his chest as the intoxicating scent of desire wafted through the air. Lynsael had curved with him, digging his fingertips into his sides, and then lowered his hand to grasp hold of Blaine's painfully hard cock.

“Lyn,” Blaine gasped.

A wry smile spread across Lynsael's face before he broke their kiss. “All this time,” Lynsael said before dotting Blaine's cheek with kisses. “I've waited.” His lips trailed wet lines across Blaine's jaw to his neck, where he nipped at skin sending shock waves through Blaine's spine.

Blaine closed his eyes, his body weakening even more to Lynsael's touch. He leaned back against the hard counter.

Lynsael continued to suckle at his neck, up to his earlobe, and sent a warm gasp of breath through Blaine's hair. Goosebumps rose up on his arms; his face went steaming hot. When Lynsael began to stroke Blaine's length, he'd almost lost his footing and slipped on the wet tile; stopped by Lynsael's hold on him.

A chuckle left Lynsael's lips, before he trailed down Blaine's damp chest; his tongue brushing against his nipple making it pebble. As he lowered himself to his knees, he thumbed at the head of Blaine's cock and lapped a bead of precome.

Blaine reached for Lynsael, clasping his fingers into Lynsael's smooth hair. “Jesus,” the words fell unbidden from his lips. “Lyn, you...” His muscles went taut as Lynsael took Blaine's shaft into his mouth, down to the base. The words he'd meant spoken escaped him, while Lynsael's wandering hands wrapped around his hips, and clenched on to his ass.

With every movement, Blaine felt his desire burn through his face. The warm heat of those lips around his hardness, the way Lynsael gripped on to his ass as he rocked, and the rich scent of Lynsael's lust made Blaine tense with needed release. And he wanted Lynsael to take him there.

He'd began to thrust with Lynsael's movements. Wanton moans broke through Blaine's lips as Lynsael took his cock between his lips, and he felt his foot slide on the wet floor again. He dug his heel into the tile in hopes it would stop him.

Soon, he couldn't stop from going over. The heat threw his senses into overdrive, and his hard cock pulsed, sending a wave of come into Lynsael's awaiting mouth.

Lynsael looked up at Blaine in satisfaction. He wiped his red, puffy lips with a smile.

Blaine narrowed his eyes down on him. “Come here,” he whispered, heaving Lynsael up to his feet by the mess of long hair still in his grasp.

“Hey,” Lynsael protested.

Once Lynsael was on his feet, Blaine pressed close to him, freed his hair and wrapped his arms around his sides. “You're naughty,” Blaine chuckled and smacked Lynsael's ass.

“Is that right?” Lynsael tipped his head.

Blaine nipped at Lynsael's lower lip. “Uh huh,” he moaned before pressing his lips to Lynsael's. He opened his mouth wide, and Blaine could still taste his salty release on Lynsael's tongue.

The cool air had crept along his back, making him shiver now that his heated flush had gone. Blaine embraced Lynsael tight, but it still wasn't enough. Carefully, he slid against the counter with Lynsael still in his arms, their lips pressed tight, and began to stumble into the living room.

Blaine knew his apartment well enough to navigate, but with Lynsael in his arms, it made his dance backwards towards the couch difficult. Before he knew it, the back of his leg caught the edge of the coffee table and he tumbled to land on his ass with a thunk. “Shit,” he spouted. Lynsael stood above him with his familiar enticing grin.

Just when Blaine thought Lynsael would extend a helping hand, the angel knelt against the wood table between his legs. Lynsael's smooth hands trailed up Blaine's chest; his tongue drew a wet line against Blaine's skin until he was face to face with Blaine.

“Lyn...” Blaine breathed, his half hardened cock throbbed against Lynsael's stomach.

Lynsael tipped his head again to the bead of Blaine's precome cooling on his abdomen, and then furrowed his brows at the suffocating brown belt, and rough jeans. “I hate these things,” he announced and straightened his spine. He wrenched at his jeans, letting them fall down around his knees, and then kicked them away.

Taking that opportunity to move from the hard table, Blaine crashed back into the couch before Lynsael was completely stripped. He marveled at Lynsael's figure, his strong, robust legs, and his rigid cock. How could Blaine have thought about covering that up?

Blaine motioned for Lynsael. The angel narrowed his eyes and smiled before joining Blaine. Straddling Blaine, Lynsael sought out Blaine's lips and buried his hands in Blaine's short hair.

As Blaine thrust, his painfully hard cock rubbed against Lynsael's tight hole. The flush rushed through his body; sweat began to stick to his bangs. A wanton craving for Lynsael swept through him and he bucked again, sliding his cock between Lynsael's ass cheeks.

“I...” he suckled at Lynsael's lower lip. “Want you so bad,” his voice trembled.

At those words, Lynsael narrowed his eyes, and then turned to reach for the coffee table, picking up Blaine's wallet. When he returned, he unsnapped the leather wallet, rustled with the pockets, and retrieved a foil wrapped condom.

“How did you know I keep that in there?” Blaine furrowed his brow.

“I was curious one day,” Lynsael answered.

“Nosy.” It was one thing that Lynsael rummage through his magazines, but when it came to Blaine's wallet, he felt a little deceived.

The foil crumbled under Lynsael's fingers as he tried to unwrap the condom. Somehow, it seemed impossible for him to tear the edge away. Blaine chuckled, and snatched the condom from his hand.

“This won't work,” he said. “We need lube, too. I don't wanna hurt you.”

Lynsael buried his head in the man's collar, and began to lick small lines across his skin. “I don't care,” he breathed.

“You don't know what you're saying. Haven't you ever—“

“Watched two gay men from the Palace? Yes.”

The confession surprised Blaine. “That's not exactly what I was going to say, but since you mentioned it, why did you?”

“Curiosity.” Lynsael shrugged.

Blaine softened his face, and trailed his hands up Lynsael's sides. “You're a very curious creature, aren't you?”

Lynsael nodded and kissed the man's skin. “Please?”

He sighed and gripped Lynsael's sides, making him straighten his spine, and then tore at the condom's wrapper.

Lynsael moved just long enough for Blaine to slip the condom over his hard length, and straddled his legs again around Blaine.

“Just go slowly,” Blaine said.

He carefully guided Lynsael against him, the warmth of Lynsael's puckered opening gliding against the head of his cock. With one thrust, he could be buried deep inside, the temptation exhilarated him, but he kept steady and allowed Lynsael to slowly handle himself.

Blaine felt an unsteady breath escape Lynsael's lips as he drove himself on Blaine's cock, and he braced himself against Blaine's shoulders. Blaine noticed the trembling, the muscles contracting around his cock, and he embraced Lynsael tight around his neck to comfort him.

Blaine thrust once, Lynsael let out a suffocated moan. When Blaine gripped on to his quivering cock, Lynsael whispered, “Yes, Blaine...”

He began to stroke Lynsael's length while pressing deeper into his warmth. Wings fluttered and spread from behind him, before he cloaked his wings around them both. Shadows played against Lynsael's soft face. A strong scent of musk spread from them both.

The sweat built between their pressed legs; a drop of sweat ran down the side of Blaine's face. Just as he began to thrust faster, Lynsael's length pulsed in his palm, and another wanton moan came deep from his lungs.

“Mm, Blaine,” Lynsael whispered, focusing his blue eyes on Blaine's, and his heart thundered in his chest. “This feels so—“

“Wonderful,” Blaine's voice hitched.

Lynsael's eyes widened, and then narrowed before he nodded and pressed his lips against Blaine's. Soon, his moans came unbidden from his lungs, and his sticky release spread across Blaine's fingers. That was all Blaine needed; he rocked fast into Lynsael's tightness, the warmth of his partner's embrace seizing at him. As the delicious tingle swept through his body, his balls tightened and he released.

Blaine's heart hammered within his chest, his entire body felt weak. He leaned his head back into the couch, closed his eyes, and dropped his arms at his sides.

“You are one hell of a—“ he huffed, catching that word. “I mean, you're really something.”

Lynsael crashed his head into Blaine's shoulder; both wings folded back and Blaine welcomed the cooling air brushing against his naked skin. He took the moment to breathe, and settle his excitement, his lax cock sliding out from between Lynsael's warmth.

A slight tickle on his thigh made him tingle. He tried to scratch his leg, and his fingers caught a soft feather. “What's this?” He held up the feather, examining the black strands wilted at the tip.

Lynsael picked up his head and, immediately, his eyes widened in shock. “My wings!” He twisted and turned left and right, checking his precious wings. “Why am I losing feathers?”

“Calm down,” Blaine commanded, grasping on to Lynsael's shoulders. “Isn't this normal?”

Lynsael furrowed his brows. “I'm not a cat, Blaine. I don't shed.”

“Okay, so it's just one feather.”

“Yeah, but it could be two feathers tomorrow, then three, then four,” Lynsael huffed, sliding himself away from Blaine. “By this time next week I won't have any wings at all.”

“I think you're getting a little carried away with this.”

Lynsael thumbed across his right wing, letting the feathers ruffle through his fingers. Every one of them stayed in place. Once he was done checking the left wing, he turned to Blaine and said, “Maybe you're right. But we still need to figure out the connection between Augustus and the statue.” He pointed to the remains.

“Can we do that tomorrow,” Blaine yawned. “after I get off of work? I promise, I'll try to help you.” He reached out and clenched on to Lynsael's hand. “I'm ready to turn in for the night.”

Lynsael's face softened. He nodded his head and helped Blaine off the couch. As they both entered the bedroom, Blaine brushed his fingers through the fallen feather. “I'm going to keep this, though.” And leaned it against a photo frame on top of his dresser.