The Sacrifice

"I want your wings like this always," I told him, lips brushing his chest as I spoke.

"Good," he agreed, voice still rough. "Because I can't seem to force them back," he admitted.

"Is that normal?"

"No," he said with a snort. "It's not good either. I can't exactly walk around the human world with demonic wings out."

"It'll be okay," I assured him, my fingers trailing over some of his scars, memorizing them. "Wait..." I said, pulling back slightly to look up at his face. No horns, like I suspected. "Your fingers are normal," I observed, feeling them tease up and down my spine. "And your horns went back in. Let me see your tongue," I demanded, getting a small chuckle out of him before he stuck it out at me, letting me see the fork had disappeared. "I don't understand," I admitted. If the talons, horns, and tongue were normal again, and his body heat went back from hellfire to a mild fever, it didn't make sense that his wings were still out in all their glory.

"I don't either," he admitted, shrugging. "Even when I get the Change, the wings are the last to come out," he explained. "It might just take longer for them to go back."

"Well, good," I decided, reaching out tentatively. "May I?" I asked, pausing before touching them.

"You can touch me anywhere you want, babe," he told me, making my belly wobble.

"Does it hurt?" I asked when my fingers brushed his wing, finding it unlike a bird's, but more like a bat's—smooth, velvety. He'd flinched at the contact, his brows drawing together.

"No," he said, shaking his head.

"You're sure?" I pressed. "You're flinching," I told him as my fingers drifted over the wing, unable to get enough of the feel of them.

"It's nothing. It feels... good," he admitted, sounding confused.

"Does it not normally feel good?" I asked, flattening my hand against the softness.

"It usually burns. Me and whoever touches them."

"Really?" I asked, watching his face, looking for any dishonesty, but I found none. If anything, I saw the confusion that I felt as well as some sort of vulnerability that he seemed to save for me.

"Yeah."

"Does this... I don't know... mean something?" I asked.

"Fuck if I know," he admitted, taking a breath so deep it shook his chest.

"We'll figure it out," I told him, tracing over the thick ligament-like webbing that held his wings out.

"Yeah," he agreed, his hands moving over me again like he couldn't get enough of touching me. I understood that feeling well. "You alright?"

"Amazing," I countered.

"I hurt you."

"You made it better," I told him, like I knew he would.

"It'll get better."

"I don't know if that is possible," I told him, getting a seeing look flood his eyes as his lips twitched.

"Sounds like a challenge to me."

"I mean... I wouldn't object to being a part of that."

"Good. Because I am going to fuck you up and down that house every chance I get," he told me, making a little shiver of anticipation move through me.

"Sounds like a great way to spend the rest of my life," I agreed. "Thank you for this," I told him. "This was nice of you. With the blankets and the creek. It's lovely. Reminds me of home."

"Are you hungry?" he asked, making me realize I'd completely forgotten about the picnic basket.

"Yes."

So then we sat up, me wincing just a bit at the tenderness I felt, but he seemed to sense it without even looking at me, his wings moving out to stroke over my back almost like fingertips, comforting me.

Ly turned me and pulled me back against his chest, both of us facing the creek as we picked at the food selection.

I giggled when his wings went around me again.

"That's kind of possessive," I decided.

"Babe, I'm not doing that," he told me.

"What do you mean you're not doing it? They're attached to you. That would be like saying your fingers aren't touching my breast right now," I told him as his thumb moved up and down around the side of my breast.

He let out a small chuckle at that, his hand sliding out to squeeze the swell hard before moving down to anchor across my stomach instead.

"I don't know. I don't fucking get it either. But I am not telling my wings to keep touching you or going around you. They are just doing it."

"Do you have any like... demon texts or anything?" I asked. "To reference."

"If demon texts exist, I doubt they do on the human plane."

"We can look."

"Sure," he agreed.

"It would be good to know more about it. Especially if it keeps happening."

As the minutes passed to a few hours, his wings eventually retreated, leaving me naked and cold, despite having him behind me, body always cozy warm.

"We should head back," he murmured against my hair.

I took a deep breath, closing my eyes, taking one more moment to memorize everything about this. "Okay," I agreed, untangling from him, taking the clothes as he passed them to me.