Keys jangled in Blaine's hand as he unlocked the apartment door. It had been a long day of practice, and of getting to know their new band member. Despite the strange thing Raz had said earlier, the rest of the day had gone well. They had practiced their entire set; the only song that the new guitarist seemed to have a problem with was Blaine's own: Save Me. It was only a couple of missed notes. Something he could learn easily with a little bit of practice.

As Blaine entered his apartment, evening shadows weaved and danced across the walls in the darkened kitchen. He peered around the corner. “Lyn?” he called, noticing that even the living room was dark.

He shrugged his coat off and threw it on top of the kitchen counter. “You here?” Damn, he better still be here. Blaine didn't know what he would do if Lynsael had just disappeared.

The intense silence had him in immediate panic. He'd expected Lynsael to run up to him, arms open, ready for an embrace. Even if Lynsael was still upset from last night's argument, it definightly didn't demand the silent treatment.

He dashed into the living room. “Lyn?” Next to the statue's base, he spotted Lynsael in deep concentration, staring at the front of the sculpture's remains where the words were still carved. “What are you doing?” he asked, as Lynsael thumbed across the granite.

Lynsael began to whisper in a foreign tongue; he repeated the same syllables over again until he spoke loud, “The words have been scratched over.” He brushed against the granite, wiping away more dust. “They were written in Hebrew.”

“What? Let me see that.” Blaine tipped his head and walked towards Lynsael. He leaned down to look at the base. In the darkness, he couldn't make anything out. “How can you see without the light?”

“I don't need to see them, Blaine. They're clearly right here.” Lynsael tapped his own forehead. “Like I knew they were there all along.”

Blaine stepped back and furrowed his brows. “That's... well, is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

“Bad. That means the statue was altered. Think it could have been messed with before Augustus was finished?”

“Don't know.” In the shaded living room, Blaine focused on Lynsael, his wings were less than half the size they'd been the day before; hanging crumbled and torn from Lynsael's back. He reached out and touched the wings. Lynsael's body tensed as Blaine's fingers glided against the remaining feathers, they ruffled and began to wither and decay under his touch. “Your wings.”

Lynsael flinched, his eyes wide. “Don't touch,” he warned.

“I'm sorry,” Blaine whispered, pulling his hand back and running it through his hair. He couldn't bear to watch his angel suffering. If he could hold Lynsael without causing more pain, he would. He'd miss the feeling of those soft feathers through his fingers. Was Lynsael right about turning human? “Have you been at this all day?”

Lynsael nodded, and then flicked his eyes towards Blaine. “You were at practice, right?”

“Yeah.”

“There's this... air about you, an illusion. Was that new guitarist there?”

“Raz? Yeah. He's pretty cool; hit all the chords except for during Save Me. Why?”

“Just wondering.” Lynsael turned and stepped away from the sculpture. “Do you think that I could come with you to the club on Friday?”

Blaine shook his head. “You should stay here, Lyn. I mean, you have figured out something, right?” It was for his safety that he stayed at the apartment, or so Blaine told himself. “You think someone messed with the statue?”

“I'm not sure. Where was the statue before it was here?”

“Augustus's family put it in a storage shed for me, but it was always locked up pretty tight.”

Lynsael lowered his head. “I don't know, Blaine. I'm still not sure what it all means.”

“Maybe you need a break from it,” Blaine said, stepping close to wrap Lynsael in his arms, and tell him everything would be fine. But what if everything wasn't fine? More black feathers had been falling from Lynsael's gorgeous wings since last night, scattering across the living room floor, but when picked up, the feathers would dissolve into ash. The only feather still intact was the one that Blaine had kept. He'd promised himself that he wouldn't touch it.

“I can't,” Lynsael pouted. “Something is going on, far worse than losing my angelic nature. What if you are in danger?”

“Oh, now you are just being paranoid,” Blaine chuckled. But what if he was right? Blaine's laugh died at the thought. “Well, at least come have dinner.”

At the sound of food, Lynsael's disheartened look seemed to disappear. “I guess that would be okay.”

Blaine let a smile warp his lips before closing in on Lynsael. “Come on. I thought maybe a vegetable bake with all your favorites. You wanna help?”

A shy smile softened the remaining tension in Lyn's face. “Yeah.”

***

After dinner, Blaine had mentioned jumping in the shower, and Lynsael was to follow him. Lynsael thought back to his wings, and how they wrinkled to even the slightest pressure.

Steam rose from the basin, humid and warm, fogging the bathroom. Lynsael stood watching Blaine step out of his jeans and ease his foot over the bathtub's ledge. Seeing Blaine's taut ass, he couldn't help but get excited.

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Blaine reached out for Lynsael, who hesitated a moment. “But my wings?”

“They'll be okay.” Blaine winked. “We'll be careful not to get the water directly on them.”

Lynsael let his tension ease. He clutched Blaine's hand, and stepped into the warmth of the water on his face. He loved the way it washed away his fears; the way it drowned out everything he'd thought of throughout the lonesome day.

Enjoying Blaine's muscled shoulders, and firm back in front of him, he eased closer, finding that warmth more comforting than the water. His cock went rigid as he pressed against Blaine, and he pressed his head between Blaine's shoulders.

“Lyn...” Blaine stilled a moment. “Here.”

Blaine turned slowly, a bar of soap in his hands. He ran the soap against Lynsael's skin from his neck to his abdomen. A sparkle ran through his eyes as he peered down at Lynsael's wanton ache. He pulled away just enough to rub the soap between his hands, white bubbles foaming between his fingers and lowered his hands to Lynsael's hardness.

Lynsael flushed as Blaine's hands traveled between his legs, smoothing the soap over his balls, causing him to spread wide. He'd wanted to grab on to Blaine, to thrust up and beg for his lips, or to simply melt into Blaine's hands like putty. A stifled moan escaped his closed lips as Blaine slid foamy fingers across his perineum.

Blaine stopped, flicked his eyes at Lynsael, and smiled.

“Don't stop,” Lynsael hummed in sheer pleasure.

Blaine straightened his spine. With the bar of soap back in his hands, he slid around the tiled wall and disappeared behind Lynsael. Slick hands ran down the small of Lynsael's back making him shudder, and then slid his hands around Lynsael's sides to his stomach, pressing against his back and the remains of Lynsael's wings.

“I'm sorry,” Blaine whispered before placing a kiss on the side of Lynsael's neck.

Lynsael closed his eyes and rolled his head back onto Blaine's shoulder, enjoying the warmth, a heated flush rising into his face. “For what?”

“Last night,” Blaine breathed. “Everything that has happened in the last few days... it's just; I don't know what to think of it all.”

Lynsael settled his hands on top of Blaine's. He took a sighing breath, “I know.”

Blaine sucked at the back of his neck, drawing a wet line to his nape. Lynsael trembled with Blaine's needy touch, his own desires depleting any remaining worry and confusion. He'd wanted Blaine to hold him, to comfort him; he'd wanted Blaine to know his pain because he knew Blaine's all too well.

Soft, soapy hands caressed Lynsael's stomach again, down to his still rigid length, and began to stroke. Blaine's heady breath wafted through Lynsael's hair as he licked and suckled on his earlobe.

Drops of water splashed across Lynsael's soapy body, the foam trickled down his chest into Blaine's tight grip. Blaine continued to stroke, speeding his pace. His heart beat thundered into his throat as he felt Blaine's hard cock thump against his ass.

Another wanton moan escaped his opened lips. “Blaine,” he whimpered with the delicious tingle running through his body.

He pressed as close as he could to the warm body behind him, the excitement rushed through his body as Blaine's shaft thrust so close to his tightness. An enticing ache ran through him, he needed Blaine inside him, but he hadn't the voice to ask.

Blaine's warm lips continued to suck on the back of Lynsael's neck, his tight grip working fervently.

Lynsael's thoughts began to swirl from the heat building through him. It was just as well that the water began to cool as it splashed across his face. Despite that, Lynsael didn't want it to end; he'd wanted to stay in this pleasurable moment as long as he could.

As the need for release seized Lynsael, Blaine slid his water slicked cock between the angel's ass cheeks, and deepened his kiss on Lynsael's neck.

“Yo-you're a horrible tease,” Lynsael choked out.

He felt Blaine smile before his lips pulled away. “I guess we're both a little evil in our own way,” Blaine said, his breath hot against Lynsael's neck.

With those words, Blaine slid a hand between Lynsael's legs and gently cupped his balls. His right hand continued to stroke, altering his pace, starting fast then slowing enough to thumb against Lynsael's slit.

His technique kept Lynsael on edge. While the intense need to come had passed for the moment, it left him just as excited, and even slightly flustered, with the cooling water splashing against his heated skin.

Blaine began to thrust against Lynsael's body, causing Lynsael's weakened legs to give way. Lynsael clutched on to Blaine's arms, steadying himself. Blaine chuckled a moment but continued his play.

“Please,” Lynsael's plead echoed through partly closed lips.

“Please what?” Blaine hummed.

“D-don't tease. It's starting to get cold.”

“You want to come?” Blaine asked.

Lynsael pursed his lips and nodded.

Blaine quickened his pace, sending a wave of pleasurable heat flashing through Lynsael's head down to the pit of his groin, zeroing in and tightening in his balls. He couldn't think; he could barely breathe. With Blaine's cock wedging Lynsael's tight hole, probing ever so slightly, and his own neediness spewing in labored gasps, the building pressure within released.

Frigid water ran across his chest and his spent length; when Blaine finally pulled away, Lynsael turned and embraced him, desperately needing his warmth.

Just as Lynsael pressed his lips to Blaine's, he pulled away. “Your wings are getting wet,” he said.

The cold water washed the remains of Lynsael's wings, and Lynsael finally noticed the pain rolling through his shoulders. He snapped back into reality and quickly dashed from the comfort of Blaine's arms to the outside of the shower.

Water and soap dripped on the tiled floor, and Lynsael struggled not to slip.

Blaine pulled back the shower curtain and chuckled. “Get back in here.”

Lynsael grabbed hold of the towel rack for balance. “Uh uh.”

“You still have soap all over you, Lyn.”

“It's cold and it hurts my wings.” Lynsael slid across the floor, close to the bathroom mirror in hopes he could have a peek at his wings, but the mirror was covered in a layer of steam.

“Lyn, they're fine,” Blaine said. “I know it's cold but we need to wash the soap off.”

“You sure?”

Blaine nodded, smiled in affirmation, and extended a hand for Lynsael.

Supposing it couldn't hurt anymore than it already had, Lynsael swallowed his fears and took Blaine's offered hand, stepping over the ledge and back into the running shower. He shivered to the cold water streaming down his skin, but made sure all the foam was gone before stepping back out to the floor.

Soon, the water shut off, and Blaine scooted up behind him with a warm towel around his chilly body, helping to dry him.

“So, say if you do find out what's up with the statue, and Augustus...” Blaine's voice hitched. “What do you think would happen?”

Lynsael felt his nerves tumble at the thought. “I don't know,” he whispered.

“Do you think that we'll still be together?”

Lynsael stilled. He had tried not to think of the dangers, the serious repercussions of being so close to a human. It could mean that he would face the inevitable; to be taken away from his human charge. Or that Blaine would suffer the consequences of being with someone so pure. That thought scared him to the point of losing hope.

No. He couldn't let that get to him. Protecting Blaine was much more important, even if it meant that he have to fight to destroy anyone who tried to get in the way.

“Yeah,” Lynsael let out a sigh. “I'll make sure of it.”

Blaine caressed Lynsael's shoulders. “I still don't understand everything, Lyn.” And Lynsael felt his heart attempt to lodge in his throat. He didn't have the will to answer anymore questions about his past. “But maybe you'll tell me sometime, right?”

Lynsael nodded.