Ficlet: Fledgling
Title: Fledgling
Fandom: Dark Angel
Pairing: Normal/Alec
Word Count: 700
Written for: da_halloween, prompt 27: Normal grows wings, despite his annoyance at the fact.
Normal shrugged his shoulders for the umpteenth time that day, trying to alleviate the knots between them. It didn't do any good, not this time, nor any other time.
Disentangling himself from the braying masses that made up the rest of his employees, Alec wandered over to the booth where Normal was still squirming.
"Something the matter, boss?"
"My shoulders are a bit stiff," Normal admitted before inspiration hit. "Nothing a massage from a strong pair of hands couldn't fix."
His Golden Boy held up the package he'd been previously tossing carelessly from hand to manly hand. "Can't. Hot run."
~*~
He had worn a backpack when he left the house that morning, something he hadn't done in over twenty years. It made him feel like one of the morons who worked for him, cycling self-consciously through the pre-dawn streets, hoping people would chalk up his lack of balance to the bag on his back and not the growth.
The things were getting bigger. The backpack solution might work for a day or two, but at this rate he'd need to find something else to disguise them before the week was up.
Normal didn't know what he was going to do.
~*~
The Congressional hearings were talking about transgenics again. The bile forming at the back of his throat had nothing to do with the general existence of the mutants invading his city, for once.
Normal snapped off the tv and ordered his reprobates back to work.
"Normal?" Alec asked. "Something wrong?"
"I'm sick of freaks," he said.
Reagan Ronald was human, born naturally to two human parents. He was not a freak, even if he did have two giant wings growing out of his back. But no one would believe that if they knew.
Sometimes, he didn't quite believe it himself.
~*~
When unfolded, Normal's wingspan reached longer than his arms. Most of the time, though, the wings were tucked away under a harness he'd stitched together with scraps of leather and scavenged steel. It was uncomfortable, especially by the end of a 14-hour shift standing in the dispatch booth, trying not to let any of the lowlifes see his back. Even wearing the harness, his clothes still looked misshapened.
The contraption bent his feathers out of shape, crushing a few beyond salvation. Most were fine with some careful and tender grooming.
He usually remembered to stop himself before fixing them all.
~*~
Normal was supposed to be alone. He never had visitors. No one ever came to his house. There was no reason to hide his wings when he was home.
Alec wasn't supposed to be here.
Normal stared at Alec, too scared to breathe. Alec stared at his wings.
"How did you get those?" he asked rather than reaching for his gun.
"They just... appeared," Normal said, still waiting for the screaming to start.
"You're not Manticore."
"I'm not a freak."
He didn't know if he was denying a connection to the transgenics, or begging it not to be the case.
~*~
Normal's breath caught sharply, loudly, when Alec ran his fingers over his feathers.
"Sorry," Alec said, pulling his hand away. "Did that hurt?"
Normal could barely feel anything, but didn't want Alec to know the real reason he was having problems breathing. "It's fine," he said instead.
"They're so soft," Alec whispered, his voice full of wonder.
"Not all of them." Normal wasn't sure if he dared. He took Alec's hand and guided it to the tips of his wings, where the feathers were longer and stiffer. "See?"
He stopped being able to hide his reactions when Alec obligingly stroked.
~*~
The first time he'd seen Alec, the man had been in the boxing ring, shirtless and showing off his muscled physique as he pummelled Tony the Tornado. Even still, Normal was always afraid that he was remembering wrong, exaggerating Alec's body in his fantasies.
He wasn't, and he rest was even better than Normal had imagined.
Alec didn't seem to have any complaints, either, particularly not after Normal brought his wings forward, brushing the feathers against Alec's bare skin.
"Your wings... are nice," Alec said when he stopped for air, nuzzling his cheek against them.
Normal agreed with him wholeheartedly.
Fandom: Dark Angel
Pairing: Normal/Alec
Word Count: 700
Written for: da_halloween, prompt 27: Normal grows wings, despite his annoyance at the fact.
Normal shrugged his shoulders for the umpteenth time that day, trying to alleviate the knots between them. It didn't do any good, not this time, nor any other time.
Disentangling himself from the braying masses that made up the rest of his employees, Alec wandered over to the booth where Normal was still squirming.
"Something the matter, boss?"
"My shoulders are a bit stiff," Normal admitted before inspiration hit. "Nothing a massage from a strong pair of hands couldn't fix."
His Golden Boy held up the package he'd been previously tossing carelessly from hand to manly hand. "Can't. Hot run."
~*~
He had worn a backpack when he left the house that morning, something he hadn't done in over twenty years. It made him feel like one of the morons who worked for him, cycling self-consciously through the pre-dawn streets, hoping people would chalk up his lack of balance to the bag on his back and not the growth.
The things were getting bigger. The backpack solution might work for a day or two, but at this rate he'd need to find something else to disguise them before the week was up.
Normal didn't know what he was going to do.
~*~
The Congressional hearings were talking about transgenics again. The bile forming at the back of his throat had nothing to do with the general existence of the mutants invading his city, for once.
Normal snapped off the tv and ordered his reprobates back to work.
"Normal?" Alec asked. "Something wrong?"
"I'm sick of freaks," he said.
Reagan Ronald was human, born naturally to two human parents. He was not a freak, even if he did have two giant wings growing out of his back. But no one would believe that if they knew.
Sometimes, he didn't quite believe it himself.
~*~
When unfolded, Normal's wingspan reached longer than his arms. Most of the time, though, the wings were tucked away under a harness he'd stitched together with scraps of leather and scavenged steel. It was uncomfortable, especially by the end of a 14-hour shift standing in the dispatch booth, trying not to let any of the lowlifes see his back. Even wearing the harness, his clothes still looked misshapened.
The contraption bent his feathers out of shape, crushing a few beyond salvation. Most were fine with some careful and tender grooming.
He usually remembered to stop himself before fixing them all.
~*~
Normal was supposed to be alone. He never had visitors. No one ever came to his house. There was no reason to hide his wings when he was home.
Alec wasn't supposed to be here.
Normal stared at Alec, too scared to breathe. Alec stared at his wings.
"How did you get those?" he asked rather than reaching for his gun.
"They just... appeared," Normal said, still waiting for the screaming to start.
"You're not Manticore."
"I'm not a freak."
He didn't know if he was denying a connection to the transgenics, or begging it not to be the case.
~*~
Normal's breath caught sharply, loudly, when Alec ran his fingers over his feathers.
"Sorry," Alec said, pulling his hand away. "Did that hurt?"
Normal could barely feel anything, but didn't want Alec to know the real reason he was having problems breathing. "It's fine," he said instead.
"They're so soft," Alec whispered, his voice full of wonder.
"Not all of them." Normal wasn't sure if he dared. He took Alec's hand and guided it to the tips of his wings, where the feathers were longer and stiffer. "See?"
He stopped being able to hide his reactions when Alec obligingly stroked.
~*~
The first time he'd seen Alec, the man had been in the boxing ring, shirtless and showing off his muscled physique as he pummelled Tony the Tornado. Even still, Normal was always afraid that he was remembering wrong, exaggerating Alec's body in his fantasies.
He wasn't, and he rest was even better than Normal had imagined.
Alec didn't seem to have any complaints, either, particularly not after Normal brought his wings forward, brushing the feathers against Alec's bare skin.
"Your wings... are nice," Alec said when he stopped for air, nuzzling his cheek against them.
Normal agreed with him wholeheartedly.