Crash My Party~

“Fly away, then!”

“Are you molting?”

“Are you an angel?”

“Why WALK anywhere?”

“If I was you, I’d never land.”

“What does it feel like… flying?”

“Can you actually fly with those?”

“You look like an angel with those.”

“What is the highest you’ve flown?”

“What’s the view like from up there?”

“Could you take me flying sometime?”

“Night flying just sounds… dangerous.”

“Just how rough was that last landing?”

“Stop pouting and glide back down here.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were molting?”

“They’re like a big, feathery blanket! So warm.”

“You can’t fly tonight, there’s a storm out there.”

“I can see you’re sad. Your wings are drooping.”

“You have wings… Oh my god, you have wings!”

“I’m cold and your wings are warm. Come here.”

“Your wings got hurt? How bad? Can you still fly?”

“I can see you’re scared. Your wings keep shaking.”

“I get it. You can fly. You can stop showing off, now.”

“When was the last time you brushed your primaries?”

“How do you even get this much glitter on your feathers?”

“No, sharing a bed with you means a mouthful of feathers.”

“Stop shaking your feathers! You’re getting water everywhere!”

“Could you stop flapping? You’re sending all my papers flying…”

“Okay, that’s it! Land and say that to my FACE, you feathery jerk!”

“Hop in the bath… and don’t clog up the drain with feathers this time!”

“Your feathers are looking a little disheveled. Should I straighten them?”

“That was my favorite shirt. You cut wing holes in the back of my favorite shirt?”

“Running off into the sky isn’t going to make your problems go away, you know.”

“Your wings are still soaked. Come here, you’ll get sick if you don’t dry them off.”

Aetos’s breath caught as Raptor flared his power, letting his aura brush along Aetos’ aura before Raptor took that final step forward, his magic sparking along Aetos’ skin like he wasn’t wearing any armor. “As you wish~” he murmured, smirk curving his lips, even as he removed his gauntlets and brought his hands up to lift his helm off, showing his black hair shading to purple at the tips. He raised an eyebrow in response to the taunt, smirk fully formed as he reached for his other shoulder. “I’d only mind if the Key is the… only thing you want to play with, Raptor~” he purred in response. His hands stilled in surprise at Raptor’s final words; crimson eyes locked onto the other man’s wrist as the Key sliced across it. Emotions flickered across Aetos’ face and through his aura in a surge; nostalgia, flattery, surprise, desire, and more. His breath sped and sheer need and want was in his expression. 

He reached gracefully for Raptor’s hand, fingers drifting across skin if the back of his hand and wrist sensually. “I accept,” he breathed, voice low, dark, almost a purr. He bowed over Raptor’s wrist, eyes rolling up to meet Raptor’s dark golden ones to watch his Mage’s expression as he lowered his mouth to the cut. Aetos brushed his lips across the unblemished portion of Raptor’s wrist before parting his lips and he tasted Raptor, tongue dancing across the cut, eyes never leaving Raptor’s face.

“And in return,” he murmured, lips brushing the inside of Raptor’s wrist with every word, warm breath fanning across his skin, “I offer you a Contract - Summon me any day, any time, for however long you wish….” Crimson eyes burned with possessiveness as he straightened gracefully, still holding Raptor’s wrist; the remaining armor on Aetos glowed and dissipated in a flare of magic, motes of light fading as the armor was dismissed, obeying Raptor’s order, “….and I’ll fulfill your every desire - for as long as you hold only my Key, Summon only me,” he purred the clause to the Contract, watching closely for Raptor’s reaction.

The emotions flickering through the celestial spirit’s aura wasn’t what Raptor expected, he was looking for anger and scorn, a rejection. Battle spirits didn’t accept blood from just any mage who was willing to open a vein for them, they only took from the ones they deem worthy. That look of need and want on Aetos’ face made Raptor’s breath catch audibly, he felt it was hard to swallow with his heart hammering away in his throat, matching the very need and desire thrumming through him. Raptor held still as Aetos took his wrist his body tense and trembling dark golden eyes wide with his shock as Aetos bowed his head over Raptor’s hand, meeting those crimson eyes watching him.

Raptor didn’t plan on Aetos to actually accept his offering, he didn’t pull away as a shiver ran through his body at the brush of lips across the unmarred skin. He bit his lower lip as Aetos’ tongue laved the wound on his wrist quickly cleaning up the droplets of blood that had started welling to the surface feeling in that instant when a knot forming in his guts started easing, a pull of his magic as when Aetos accepted the offering and took his blood it was now Raptor’s might that kept Aetos to the physical plane in the same manner as if he opened Aetos’ gate with a key. A soft sigh escaped him almost of relief eyes sharpening and focused solely on the battle spirit before him, his frame unconsciously straightening taller, shoulders square but a touch relaxed. Raptor held his chin up as he brought his hand still holding the key to brush his knuckles lightly along the side of Aetos’ face before the spirit straightened.

Sean Jones crossed his arms, trying to look more pissed off in an attempt to hide that he was scared, and took another long look around the room, a sneer curling his lip. He couldn’t help but be envious of the nice, big house, huge shaded yard, the fine furniture and decorations in the hall he’d been led through; he even liked the all hardwood, strong, masculine feel of the place, not to mention just the size and the expensive car that he’d been picked up in. Stuff we should have, seein’ as how we’re the ones payin’ for it, he thought to himself jealously. His gaze dropped to his wrist again, to the bright red, newly healing scar on his right wrist, going into the palm of his hand. He gritted his teeth, his jaw tightening, anger swirling in his gut.  

He’d known ever since he was eight that his family’s bloodline was just used as ‘scapegoats’ for the Williams family. He still didn’t fully understand – magic and witches and warlocks seemed like something out of a movie, but… he couldn’t deny that when that blade had snapped on the carpentry saw in shop class, there did seem to be something supernatural that had guided it as it had flung itself across the room, seemingly curved around and missed the column in the center of the room, missed everyone else… and slashed his wrist and palm when he’d thrown up an arm to deflect it.

Sean growled to himself and pushed off the wall to pace in front of the windows. He didn’t like being here, it made him nervous, and even his dad’s call telling him to go with the strangers who picked him up from school didn’t make him feel better – not when he could hear the worry he had tried to suppress even as he said that everything would be fine, they just wanted him to meet someone.

He whirled back to the door as he heard the knob turn, eyes wide, before he scrambled to cross his arms over his chest, trying to settle into a semi-confident stance and to control his apprehensive breathing, green eyes fixed on the door to see who would come in.

Shawn Williams slouched, hands in his pockets and wishing that the floor would crack open and swallow him whole. Shouldn’t be too hard, he thought wryly considering he only felt a few inches tall after the tongue lashing his grandmother had given him. He had broken family law, cast a Hex for free, for no real reason besides he was feeling vengeful and flexed his power over his teacher. 

He expected karmic backlash for it, waited for it to come back on to him that he was willing to use his verve, his magic and willingly harmed another. It didn’t come and Shawn was utterly confused, all his life he was taught about The Law of Return, warned of the consequences, just no one in his family told him about the loophole they made, binding another person with a mystical bond that would make that person. his scapegoat, take the backlash as if there were the ones who made the spell. When Shawn found that part out, he felt sick to his stomach, that was yesterday. When he got out of school today he discovered that his grandmother arranged for him to meet his scapegoat face to face and his mind was still whirling with that.

"It's proper etiquette to have a gift when meeting one's scapegoat." Kristoffer, the employee serving as Shawn's driver spoke up. He walked the few steps behind Shawn, a vicious scar slashed across the bridge of his nose, the corners of his mouth downturned in a frown that showed displeasure. Now, Shawn was wondering if Kristoffer was a scapegoat if the scar on his nose was the result of karmic backlash that had nothing to do with him but one of Shawn's relatives.

Shawn flinched unable to meet the gaze and disapproval on Kristoffer's face. He had been thinking about that tradition too and knew that it was a very bad precedent he was making here. A gift was given at the first meeting, at subsequent times and Shawn already broke rules, injuring his scapegoat before they met, before the first gift. He traced his tongue over his teeth, spotting the door to the study that he was told to go in and paused, standing outside of the hall, his mind racing trying to figure out how he could make this not be the disaster that it was setting up to be. He turned to Kristoffer, extending out one hand.

“Car keys.” Shawn noticed the confused expression on the driver’s face, he stared up into the man’s face, determination on his own that he would not be turned down from his gambit of salvaging this. “Please,” he politely asked, seeing a flash of recognition go through Kristoffer’s eyes, a grin on the driver’s face as he handed them over. 

“The kid’s my nephew,” Kristoffer murmured as he placed the car keys into Shawn’s hand. “I can arrange to get the title changed over.”

“Arrange he pays for nothing,” Shawn ordered his right hand wrapping around the keys and key fob while trying to place this new information into his head. Nephew. He was meeting another male. He almost wanted to ask Kristoffer about him, to get any and all information he could but Kristoffer was already briskly walking away as if a man on a mission, leaving Shawn alone to the hallway by the door. “Right,” Shawn’s stomach plummeted, nerves roiling through him as he took a shaky breath, left hand reaching out and opened the door, his head high, forcing his body to be relaxed as he strolled into the study that used to belong to his grandfather, his dark eyes meeting hazel eyes that caught him off guard how intense they were.

Sean frowned at the drawing pad; he couldn’t quite get the portrait to match what was in his head and with a growl, he tossed the graphite pencil down and flopped backward on the bench, staring at the sun reflecting on the ceiling, drawing pad dangling from his left hand.

He’d stayed late to work some on his sketches, somewhere quieter than home. His mind had been over-full lately, and… Sean closed his eyes and tossed his right arm over them. There was only face and voice and form always on his mind. He couldn’t get his mind off Shawn, the way the other boy treated him with respect and kindness and… Sean bit his lip. Attraction, there he could admit it. And if he was admitting that, he should admit to himself that he was attracted right back.

Isn’t that why you’re hanging out at school more often? A little voice whispered in his head. You like him too. Sean shook his head, dismissing the thought for now - he couldn’t figure out why Shawn was nice to him, not really. He didn’t understand.

He paused as he heard footfalls enter the room, and moved his arm to peek out around it, seeing who had strolled into the art studio this late in the day.

Shawn was sure he saw Sean’s car still parked in its spot out in the back parking lot and that’s why he was prowling the hallways still, eyes sharp and on the lookout for him. He knew Sean wasn’t on any of the team sports and didn’t bother looking through the practice fields or the gymnasium, he first went through the science labs, slightly disappointed he wasn’t here. He tapped his fingers on his thigh, head tilted and closing his eyes. Breathe in, breathe out, they were magically linked, something that could be ignored most of the time, but right now Shawn tapped into his verve, thinking only of those intense hazel eyes, that dark hair, and the scar on his right wrist that he will forever bear, that was all Shawn’s fault. 

He opened his eyes, glancing around one more time, frowning slightly as he shook his head. Not here still, but he felt an urge to walk out of the room. Sighing, Shawn shrugged and followed the feeling, instead of taking a left towards the classrooms that were for English and computer class he took a right towards the auditorium and the part of the academy that had the art studios. He passed the two band rooms and the shelves nearly overflowing with pottery projects, turning into a classroom he hadn’t been in before. Instead of the chairs in rows, the chairs and a few benches circled around the room facing a stool that stood in the center of the room. The feeling to move, to act left, with a tension in Shawn’s shoulders easing as his eyes met Sean’s peeking out at him from under the arm thrown over the other’s head, eyes lighting up as he grinned at his soulmate.

Wes stretched, enjoying the ache of recently used muscles and… other areas. His lips curved in a smirk as he glanced at the door, wondering what was taking Sky so long - his husband had pulled on his jeans and gone to get a snack, but it’d been a little bit. But… nothing was saying he couldn’t join him~

Wes rolled out of bed and glanced at the clothing dropped carelessly to the ground; picking it up, he hesitated before tossing it in the hamper. He didn’t really want to put jeans and the shirt back on, and… honestly, he wanted something more comfortable. Reaching into the closet, he snagged an oversized shirt of Sky’s - between the weight Wes had lost, and the fact that his husband’s shoulders and chest were quite built, the shirt was almost big enough to be a night shirt on him. And, he liked the fact it was Sky’s. 

Wes sat up as the bus turned the corner on the street he recognized; he shut off the music on his phone, pulled his ear buds out and started to wind them up, getting ready to pack up. It seemed like he’d been on the bus forever; a wry smile curved his lips as he realized he’d been on it close to 10 hours, ever since leaving the base, so it felt like forever especially when he was going home. He was ready - more than ready to go home, to see his husband again. He missed Sky, with a passion, an aching hole in his heart that they’d been apart for the last six months while Wes had been overseas. And the last mission… he shoved those memories away. He was done, it was over, and he was home. He grabbed his duffle on the seat beside him, and tucked ear buds and phone away in it, zipping it shut and shrugging into his light fall jacket as the bus turned into the parking lot for the bus stop. 

He was the first one off the bus, grabbing his duffle and moving even before it had come to a complete stop, practically leaping down the last two steps, duffle over his shoulder. His eyes locked on Sky’s tall frame, grin curving his lips as his gaze skimmed down that tall frame, from the hoodie to his favorite pair of Levi’s on him, down to the cowboy boots. He moved irresistibly in that direction, barely registering Beulah in the form of a black rug at Sky’s feet. “Sky,” he breathed, feeling the rolling emotions in the pit of his stomach starting to calm as he moved forward, reaching for the love of his life.

Sky straightened when the bus turned the corner, pulling himself out of the slouch he unconsciously fell into, focus sharpening as his eyes landed on the door of the bus. Wes was the first one off, he noticed the hollowed cheeks, the jacket and clothes that fit Wes well six months earlier when it was spring now hung loosely on his frame. the dark circles under emerald eyes showed a desperate lack of rest and emotions that swirled in those emerald pools like a storm coming in. He took a deep breath, having a hunch his husband was on a bad mission and everything in front of him confirmed it. He returned the grin,  the golden flecks in his dark eyes glowing with his happiness as he stepped over the miniature black mountain that was Beulah.

Sean’s hands convulsed on Shawn’s back at that low, deep voice murmuring his name in that tone, with their bodies pressed so intimately together, Shawn’s weight pinning him to the wall. He leaned into that brush of lips, breathing still uneven as the taller man leaned back to speak. He needed this, Shawn against him, his bare hands against skin, the warmth of their bodies touching and finding Shawn unchanged warming something deep within him.

He flashed a grin as Shawn explained, hands still stroking slowly over that scar. “First injury, but thankfully not worse,” he breathed, able to imagine it, someone distracted and driving a little too close, clipping him with the mirror. He shook his head. “I hope someone got their plates….” He flashed a smirk. “If you got their name, I could… pay them a visit to remind them to drive more carefully?” 

He raised an eyebrow in challenge, lips still curved upward as he leaned in to murmur directly against Shawn’s lips, “I’m glad it was only being clipped by the car. There’d be a void in my life without you around, my dear Detective,” he confessed, capturing Shawn’s lower lip between his for a moment, moving under those roaming hands on his thighs and holding on tightly.

"N-no, never found the guy. I-its typical, actually. D-doing the one pulled over 'a favor' b-by clipping the cop that pulled them over." Bitterness twisted at his lips, Shawn was surprised by the offer, bitterness leaving as his eyes searching Sean's face. His eyes softened at the confession, a soft sound escaping him as his bottom lip was captured by Sean, his hands further slipped up Sean's thighs.

Sean drank down the taste of his dear detective, deepening the kiss with tongue and lips, hands roaming Shawn’s back. He fisted his hands in the back of Shawn’s dress shirt, under his trenchcoat, yanking him closer and deliberately pinning himself between Shawn and the wall of the alley they were in. He’d missed Detective Wolfe, had wondered how he was doing the past few days and the relief when he’d seen him again… he couldn’t help dropping down to the alley and making himself known. Sean hadn’t planned on pulling Shawn into a deep kiss after their initial talk but he didn’t seem to be complaining~

Shawn’s hands roaming over him in return, the hunger and need behind the taller man’s kiss satisfied a yearning deep in him, a knowledge that Shawn felt the same. But the kiss it wasn’t enough, he needed the touch of skin, needed to make sure that the other man was unharmed, was still all right. His hands stroked down Shawn’s back before pulling his shirt out of his slacks and slipping hands up under it to roam bare skin. It was a long minute later when they broke the kiss to breathe, leaning his forehead against Shawn’s, silently cursing his ‘working’ clothes and leather and their blocking him from skin to skin contact.

His hands drifted over Shawn’s lower back, pausing and tracing a long-healed scar that his fingers drifted over. He met dark whisky-gold eyes, fingertips tracing the slightly raised skin under his fingertips. “I’ve wondered… what is this from?” He asked quietly, curious, and wanting to know more about the man in his arms.

Shawn stepped forward, rolling his hips forward to keep Sean pinned to the alley wall, his hands roaming over leather straps and the dark material of the vigilante outfit the other man wore. He wasn’t sure who leaned in first to start this kiss, that didn’t matter, all that mattered that his mouth was on Sean’s, that his hands were on Sean’s and establishing the fact that they were here, together and from what he could tell from the few days of being apart Sean seemed to be in roughly the same condition that Shawn had last seen him in. 

He shifted under the hands roaming down his back, over his shirt, his breathing was jagged as he felt Sean pull his button down shirt out of his slacks, felt those bare hands on his skin, a shiver running through him as he breathily murmured Sean’s name, his own hands still tracing along the leather straps on Sean’s upper thighs, seemingly content with this contact. His eyes, dark from desire widened slightly as he felt Sean’s fingertips tracing along an ancient scar he sometimes forgot was even there considering he couldn't see it. 

“….Raptor~” Aetos drawled the name in a similar way as Raptor had drawled his, watching in fascination as his golden eyes shifted in shade, darkening. He raised an eyebrow at Raptor’s mention of not expecting his attention, lips curving in a smirk; with what he’d reacted to Aetos’ test with the Key, there was no way he wouldn’t have Aetos’ attention. He took a breath at the emotions rolling through Raptor’s aura; he wanted to know, wanted to experience those emotions firsthand, to know what they were, to feel them rolling and pounding against his own aura, to press their bodies together and taste the other man. The urge was strong and it surprised him; he’d never reacted to another Mage like this.

His eyes snapped back to Raptor’s mouth as the Mage trailed off, as he brought the key up to his mouth again, as his tongue slipped out to dance across the tip of the Key before moving lower to explore the teeth. Aetos took a sharp breath, eyes locked on that movement, hands convulsing around the hilt of his sword, knowing that the Key was transmitting his reaction – since it was still linked to something very personal on Aetos’ body.

He flared his own magic and power, first allowing it to brush along Aetos’ aura before he took that final step into Aetos’ personal space, his magic dancing along Aetos’ skin, to allow Aetos a taste of who he was dealing with. Battle spirits were a gift, powerful beings built to deal out damage and to take it, all that strength and will went to serve their Celestial Wizards. Most of the time the battle spirits were the ones on the front lines bleeding for the weaker mages that held their Key and Contract, most of the time the gifts that were battle spirits were taken for granted.  Raptor had always been a powerful celestial mage, and the years spent without relying on a spirit only increased his own strength and skill, he was not one to stand on the sidelines.

His eyes widened as he felt the brush of warm air blowing over his Key – he didn’t hear the words, not being on another plane as he was, but he recognized the sensation of breath and he bit his lower lip, shifting in his chair. True, the Key was only a Key, but… the link he’d created had to go to something.  However, it was the next action that had a low curse escaping from him as he felt the tip of his Key brush across something warm and yielding and still with a warm breath escaping over his Key. He cursed again, having a strong mental image of what the other man was doing. Surging to his feet, he strode to his Gate and assumed a wide-legged stance before it. He smirked as wrapped his wings around him and activated the glowing portal to the mortal realms.

Inside Raptor’s kitchen, glowing purple and black shadows suddenly rose from the floor, twining sinuously together as they rose before peeling back to reveal an Eagle’s head helm, beak curving down as the noseplate. Glossy black feathered wings wrapped around and concealed the figure beneath before unfurling to reveal plate armor with purple highlights, a giant sword braced before him with both hands on the hilt, and his head raising to show crimson eyes. Eagle met the golden eyes of the man sitting at the small table, focusing sharply on him and him alone. 

His gaze trailed up and down the lean, tall frame amazed at the shape of the helm, and the armor, golden eyes met crimson and Raptor’s breath caught audibly. He stood up, the chair pushing back behind him abruptly and took a step forward before forcing himself to to stop, rubbing his right hand absentmindedly along his upper thigh from just the urge to touch the man. The battle spirit tied to the Aquila constellation looked exactly as the rumors Raptor heard: tall, handsome, an undeniable aura around him simply because he was a powerful battle spirit and those commanded attention and respect.

“... Aetos.” He drawled the name, gold eyes darkening as he felt the pulse of the Key he still held accelerate like a heartbeat would. He forced himself to release a breathe and take another one, a smile crossing his face still holding the throbbing Key to his mouth. “Name’s Raptor. I wasn’t expecting your... attention,” he honestly answered, considering he had no intention of actually summoning the battle spirit and was still covering up the surprise that Eagle brought himself here. 

A grin flickered across his face. He didn’t need to be here to be Summoned, of course - but if someone was going to pick up his Key again? He’d rather be alone and not in one of the pubs. He didn’t need an… audience. He’d felt a sensation of traveling from his Key, made his excuses and headed home - then felt the box open… or rather, the muffled sensation went away and he didn’t have to try as hard to sense the Mage’s aura. Masculine, strong… very strong, one of the strongest he’d met. 

He mused about that strength, matching his own, as he took another sip, before quashing the thought. Wishful thinking, this early. Time would tell on that. Aetos flicked his wings casually, wondering at the sensation of roiling emotions in the Mage’s aura. He didn’t know him, wasn’t familiar enough to identify them - not yet - but he was most definitely curious as to what the other was thinking.

Raptor’s gaze sharpened as he turned his attention back to Eagle’s key, noting how warm it felt now and the pulsating movement, his eyes widened as he realized what it made him think before he grinned, a fierce flash of teeth in his kitchen. Aetos the Eagle was a battle spirit seditious to the wrong kind of mage who wouldn't stand up for themselves. His eyes narrowed, Raptor heard about the past mages that made a Contract with Eagle and broke it later in tears because they couldn't handle him. Was this to make him do something rude as to drop the key of a Celestial spirit?