Standby (3 page)

Now they were embracing again, skin against glorious skin, and they both shivered as electricity crackled through their bodies. The room had smelled of dust and cleaning fluid when they first entered, but now Tom swore he could detect his favorite scents: baking bread and sizzling bacon, brewing coffee, summer rain. And there was music, very faint and indistinct, like a choir singing far in the distance or a radio turned down low. When Tom licked Rafael's neck, he tasted salt and honey.

Rafael's next words were muffled by Tom's shoulder. “How do you do this without falling apart?”

“What do you mean?”

“I can... can feel every bit of me vibrating.” Rafael laughed briefly. “It feels so good.”

Felt good to Tom, too. But he was confused. “It's not always like this for you?”

“I've never done this before.”

Shit. Very carefully, Tom asked, “Are you a virgin, Rafael?”

“Yes.” The answer came as a whisper.

No, really—shit. Tom's legs had already been rubbery, but now he was in legit danger of swooning. The last time he'd had sex with a virgin, he'd been one too. He'd been fifteen and his friend Jimmy sixteen when they'd spent a long, sticky summer afternoon exploring the possibilities of two eager dicks.

Undoubtedly noticing Tom's shock, Rafael sighed and stopped groping Tom's ass. “Is that a problem?”

“Not... no. Except... what if I'm corrupting you?” Tom had never been particularly religious but, well, he was holding proof of
something
in his arms. What if that meant hell existed too? There was probably a very special corner of it reserved for schmucks who corrupted creatures like Rafael. Besides, despoiling the guy wasn't going to help him earn his wings.

Rafael palmed Tom's ass again, making them both moan. “Does this feel like corruption?”

It did not. It felt, in fact, very much like heaven. When Rafael pushed their groins together, Tom thought that some things were worth the risk of damnation. And then he mostly stopped thinking at all.

Rafael's lack of experience at kissing showed—they bonked noses at first—but he made up for it in enthusiasm, and he tasted wonderful. If he minded that Tom hadn't brushed his teeth recently, Rafael certainly didn't show it. In fact, he whimpered sexily and clutched Tom as if he'd never let go.

Tom ran his hands over Rafael's back, feeling soft skin and ridged scars, and then dropped them lower. He liked the way his fingers dipped into the dimples above Rafael's glutes, but he liked even better how those heavy muscles felt when Rafael flexed and released them. Already, precome slicked their bellies and shafts, smoothing the friction where they rubbed together.

Tom could have easily lost himself. Could have fallen apart, just like Rafael had said. He'd never known that desire could be so all encompassing.

But he reminded himself that this was Rafael's first time. He'd already suffered such loss that he at least deserved more than a hasty wham-bam. Besides, Tom wanted to discover Rafael's body. Not just the obvious parts—magnificent as they were—but also the little bits, like that groove above his collarbones, the tender skin in the crook of his elbows, the corded lines of his wrists.

They sank to the floor in a slow-motion tumble, Rafael writhing and gasping beneath him. Tom licked, nipped, and nuzzled. He grew drunk with the taste of Rafael, intoxicated with the sound of his needy cries. And yes, Rafael did his best to stroke whatever parts of Tom he could reach, but that was almost irrelevant. Their nervous systems had been invisibly spliced, so when Tom sucked on a tightened nipple, his own body—like Rafael's—responded with curled toes and frenzied thrusts.

Tom worked his fingers and tongue down Rafael's torso. Under such close examination, his skin wasn't quite flawless. He had a few tiny scars, silvery and thin, and near his left hip a constellation of light freckles invited Tom to tickle and caress.

When Tom slid his lips over the crown of Rafael's cock, Rafael called out in a language like ringing bells. He was close; they both were, with Tom's balls tucked up tight beneath his untouched cock.

But Rafael made a strangled noise and pushed him away. “Please!” Earlier, his eyes had glowed, but now they blazed like tiny stars.

Crouched on all fours, Tom licked his lips. “What do you want, Raf?”

“I want to taste you too.”

Tom wasn't about to argue with that.

They lay on their sides on the hard floor, each of them face to crotch. Much as Tom wanted to dive back in, he took his time. He mouthed Rafael's hairless balls, licked at the crease between leg and body, tongued delicately at his perineum. An eager student, Rafael mirrored his lead. And when Tom finally put Rafael's wet glans in his mouth and Rafael followed suit, they formed an infinite feedback loop of pleasure.

Tom's orgasm tore through him at the exact moment Rafael's salty come flooded his mouth. Tom
felt
them both—his cock in Rafael's mouth, Rafael's cock inside him—and tasted them both as well. Every cell in his body blew apart, the particles floating through the ceiling and into the night sky. Still jolting with ecstasy, he came back together... transformed.

Eventually they squirmed around to face the same direction, and Tom spooned Rafael. The floor wasn't comfortable, yet they lay there a very long time, neither of them yet capable of coherent speech.

After giving a drawn-out and satisfied sigh, Rafael pressed back against Tom. “That was... was....”

“Yeah.”

Rafael wiggled his butt slightly. Tom's dick was a bit oversensitized, but Rafael's cheeks still felt really good against him. Then they were both still for a while, Tom holding Rafael tight.

Finally, Tom kissed the nape of Rafael's neck and then each of his wing scars in turn. “They didn't grow back,” he said sadly.

To his surprise, Rafael chuckled and then rolled around so their foreheads touched. “Was having sex with me your deepest longing?”

“Well... it was really great sex. The best ever.”

Rafael kissed his cheek. “But your heart's desire?”

Tom hesitated. If he couldn't be honest now, with this particular person, wasn't he pretty much doomed? “I want the whole shebang,” he admitted. “True love. Mushy pet names. Stupid in-jokes that annoy everyone else. Happily ever after.”

The fire in Rafael's eyes had diminished, but it was still there—a deep and comforting shine. “Do you think you could have those things with someone like me?”

All the air whooshed out of Tom's lungs. “I think I could,” he croaked.

“Good. Because you know what? I want them too. And I'm pretty sure that if I had them, I wouldn't give a damn about my wings.”

“But... how could you give up
wings
?”

Rafael smiled and nuzzled at Tom's cheek. “There's more than one way to fly.”

As they settled comfortably against each other, Tom allowed himself a short vision of settling down with Rafael. He knew it was only a fantasy—what would an amazing creature like Rafael want with an ordinary guy like him? Still, it was a pleasant thought, and he drifted into a doze with a contented smile.

TOM AWOKE with a start. He looked around blearily, trying to figure out where the hell he was. Oh. Yeah. Airport. He was scrunched on the floor in a corner, his suitcase digging into his side, and his sport jacket serving as a passable blanket. Quite a few sleepy-looking people were wandering by or sitting in chairs, many reading newspapers, but the large windows across the hall still didn't show a hint of morning sun.

Yawning, he looked at his watch. Just past four. Perfect—he had enough time to freshen up and get to his gate. He hoped he'd make it onto the Cedar Rapids flight, but for some reason the need didn't feel quite as urgent as it had several hours ago. Perhaps because he'd managed a few hours of shut-eye. Or maybe because he could feel the last whispers of a very good dream tickling at his consciousness. He couldn't quite remember what he'd dreamt. Was it something about flying?

He found an empty restroom and used a wad of damp paper towels and some liquid hand soap to clean himself a little. He brushed his teeth, combed his hair, and shaved; he then changed into a clean T-shirt, underwear, and socks.

By the time he emerged from the bathroom, he was energized and refreshed. He felt like a new man.

When he got to the proper gate, he marched up to the desk. “Hi,” he said to the gate agent and held out his paperwork with a smile. “I'm on standby for this flight.”

She smiled warmly in return. “Let me see what I can do for you, sir.” She took his papers and, of course, spent several minutes working on her computer.

When she looked back at him, she appeared genuinely chagrined. “I am
so
sorry, sir. I know we've left you stranded here for a long time. But your chances on this flight aren't looking very good.”

“Oh.” Surprisingly, he didn't feel anger rising. Just a minor curl of disappointment and a hint of resignation. He sighed. “How am I going to get home?”

She clacked away again. This time when she looked up, she was grinning. “I have a confirmed seat for you on the next flight, which I'm afraid isn't until one fifteen this afternoon. I do apologize for your numerous delays.”

He decided she definitely wasn't a robot. She was very pretty in a round, motherly way, her Afro forming a sort of halo, and her dark eyes sparkling with kindness. He glanced at her name tag. “Thank you, Gabi. I appreciate it.”

“Hang on a sec and let me print your new boarding pass.” After she typed for a while longer, her printer whirred. She placed a little stack of papers on the counter and tapped the top with a gold-painted fingernail. “This is your new boarding pass. Window seat, and it's guaranteed. I even got you a whole row to yourself. For now, anyway.” She gave a conspiratorial smile.

“Thanks.” He reached for it.

“Hold on! I'm not done with you. I've arranged a few other things too.” She flipped to the next paper. “This is a meal voucher. The max I can make it for is six fifty, which is just ridiculous. So I've given you ten of them. You can have yourself a really nice brunch.”

“Oh! Hey, that's great.”

She turned to the last page. “And this is a voucher good for five hundred dollars. You can apply it to any flight within the next twelve months. I've also added fifty thousand miles to your frequent flyer account.”

“I... I don't have a frequent flyer account.”

“You do now. With those miles and this voucher, you probably even have enough for an international round trip. Maybe for a romantic getaway with a special someone.” She winked at him.

He was almost speechless. “Wow. I didn't.... This is really nice of you.”

“Honey, you've had a tough time of it. I think you're due for a few good things. My job is to make sure you get them.”

He took his stack of papers, thanked her three or four more times, and walked away.

Although he was hungry, it was too early for most of the restaurants to be open, so he took a seat near the windows. The first traces of dawn brightened the sky. He mentally revised his letter to the airline executives. Instead of complaining, he was going to praise the wonderful customer service he'd received from Gabi. He'd urge them to give her a raise.

As he tucked the pass and vouchers into his pocket, it occurred to him that his parents were probably wondering where the hell he was and how the job interview went. As soon as the stores opened, he would buy a new cell phone charger so he could call them—and then likely listen to his father's lecture about worrying his mom. Once he returned home, he'd still need to find a job, pay off his debts, and get his roof repaired before the next big storm blew his house away. For no good reason, a quiet internal voice informed him that all these things were minor obstacles, that everything would be all right. “Well, miracles do happen.”

“They certainly do.”

Tom startled and then blushed, embarrassed that he'd spoken aloud
and
that he hadn't noticed the man sitting next to him. The extremely handsome man with the Superman chin and smoldering amber eyes.

“Uh, sorry,” Tom mumbled. “I think airport terminals are hard on my sanity.”

The man grinned. “You've been stranded here awhile, huh?”

“Yep.”

“Are you heading for Cedar Rapids?” The man nodded his head in the general direction of the jetway entrance.

“Eventually, but not until the next flight. I was on standby for this one.”

“Oh, that's too bad.”

Tom shrugged. “I'll get home eventually.” It was sort of an inane conversation, but he didn't want it to stop. Hell, he couldn't even take his eyes off the guy—who didn't seem to mind that he was staring.

“So you live in Cedar Rapids. Would you mind if I asked you some questions about the place? I'm moving there.”

Trying to ignore his irrational burst of joy, Tom said, “Sure. I'll be glad to. Are you relocating for a job?”

“Not exactly. I, uh, used to fly. But I gave that up.”

“You seem awfully young to be retired.” Tom thought the man couldn't be more than a year or two older than his own thirty-one.

The handsome man chuckled. “I'm older than I look. And anyway, I recently decided I wanted a new direction in my life. New goals.”

“But... in Iowa? Not the top of most people's dream location list.”

“I guess I'm not most people. And my dream definitely involves Iowa. It seems like a friendly place. A place where I could build a good future.” Something in his smile suggested that Tom might be included in that future.

Warning himself to get a grip, Tom considered the man's words. Iowa certainly did have its charms. Tom's family was there, of course. But more than that, his home state had a true sense of community. It was a place with roots. He loved complaining about the ever-changing weather and watching the storms roll in across the wide open sky. He loved the way complete strangers waved at him from cars or started conversations in the produce aisle of the supermarket. He loved the comfortable little old houses with the wide front porches—even his own, which needed repairs—and the approachable museums and theatres. He loved that nobody judged him even if he chose not to pierce his nose or dye his hair purple.