My Wings for You

She had heard the stories, gone to church, done her time singing and standing and praying in pews. Sunday after Sunday of relentless torture. You're going to hell for this or that. But all she wanted was to enjoy her Saturday night without feeling like she had to spend her hangover listening to the drawling endless sermon about the hell fire that waited for her after her shitty life extinguished. Spoon fed religion her whole life, she didn't quite know what else she would be doing if she wasn't pretending to listen in that garish white building once a week. Still she went.

Pulling out of the drive in her '92 olds, she left church and did the only part of her Sunday morning that she still enjoyed. Buckling her seatbelt in place, and drawing her cigarette from a fresh pack, she lit up before her wheels had even left the hallowed ground. It didn't really bother her, smoking on church premises—it wasn't like she believed anyway. Post church pancakes, that's what she believed in. Breakfast could change your entire week. And this week she needed it. The clouds hung heavy over town day and night, she hadn't seen the stars, hadn't seen the sun. They weren't raining. Just, hanging.

The tiny diner was half-filled with old men sipping coffee alone or in groups. Pretending their wives were still around, their daughters still called, their lives still mattered. The waitresses had on their best 'oh-hai-there-darlin' smiles and walked with a practiced pep in their step. Every single person was the same as they had been last week, and the week before and the week before that. So rarely did anyone new wander in, she wondered if she was stuck in her ways just like the old men were in theirs.

At twenty-four people often looked at her oddly for spending time in an old man's diner. For driving an old lady's car, and for working in a bookstore. But, she liked her quiet life. She didn't call attention to herself, she didn't push the bounds. She simply lived, laughed and read. Besides, whenever she went to the bar with her girlfriends, she was gawked at. She knew she was different, not at all like ordinary women. But that didn't mean she wanted to be treated any differently. She wanted a man to walk up to her and talk to her like she wasn't different. It wasn't ever going to happen. She had settled on that.

It wasn't that she was deformed, nor was she homely. Lana was gorgeous. She didn't look like a Victoria's secret model, she wasn't a head turner. But she had a sort of quiet beauty that sunk into your heart and grabbed you before you knew that you had fallen. Her eyes were bright, full of an untouchable sort of light. Her hair was a deep mahogany, and shone in the way most brown hair didn't. But the real treat was her smile. So soft and teasing, as if she knew something about you that you hadn't even figured out yet. Lana was tall for a girl, just shy of six foot and owned it. She walked with confidence and grace, her full hips swayed perfectly. Always keeping the eyes of men entranced from her perfect ass right down to her delicate ankles. There wasn't any single part of Lana that was overly remarkable, but together she was the image of the perfect woman.

So when she wandered into her diner, and started walking through the booths, it wasn't a surprise to her that everyone waved, smiled or said 'hi'. These were, after all, some of her closest friends. But today was different, today something threw her unexpectedly. There was a man, a very handsome man, sitting in her booth. Sitting, reading a paper, sipping coffee like he had always been there. Like he had always sat at 9:10 in that booth. But he hadn't. And Lana didn't want to sit anywhere else. So perhaps, he would move. Really, who would say no? She liked that booth.

She slid into the booth soundlessly and looked at the newspaper in front of his face. His hands looked calloused, well used, maybe he was a carpenter, or a construction worker? His hair was cut in a boyish, slightly grown out buzz. There was a hint of beard that couldn't possibly have been a five-o'clock shadow this early playing on his jawline.

The corner of the paper flipped down and his bright blue eyes stopped her thoughts in place. He looked pissed, as if she had ruined his day. One eyebrow raised, jaw clamped tight, and a look that screamed 'get the fuck away from here' was all he had to give her. Now that, Lana wasn't used to.

"I'm really sorry to bother you. I know it's silly, but... I really like this booth. Do you think you could sit anywhere else? Please?" Lana drew her eyebrows together and bit her lower lip. She knew it was wrong, but most men became putty in her hands as soon as she busted out the subtle pout.

"Don't even little girl. You think some well-placed pauses, and a little lip bite is going to make me want to move? Just so that you can have some booth you've been eating breakfast in all to yourself. Lana was it? Yeah. No. I'm not going anywhere. But if you'd like to know how I know your name, feel free to keep your seat there and I can show you what a real smile feels like after you have your pancakes." His face never moved from stoic, angry hunk but his tone moved from pissed to playful. She even thought that she might have seen a glint in his eye glow a little brighter.

But how had he known her name? and her order? And her life? What the fuck was going on in Lana's o-so-normal life?

"After breakfast." He moved the corner of the paper back and continued as if she had never sat down. So Lana went on wither her breakfast just as she would have if this stranger hadn't been in her booth. As if she wasn't wondering how in the world he was going to explain any of this after breakfast. She finished her pancakes and paid her bill. He never turned the page of the paper, never really moved except to drink his coffee. He didn't even have food in front of him. When she left the tip on the edge of the table, he simply folded the paper up and left the building.

Lana could only follow. She wanted to know how this stranger knew her. Knew everything about her. He climbed into an absolutely breathtaking black on black Cadillac only after opening the passenger door for her and closing it behind her.

"Michael. I'm an angel. To be perfectly clear, archangel. As in the one with the flaming sword. You know, the bad ass one." He still hadn't changed his tone. But he was in drive, racing down the highway and extending a cigarette to her and lighter was tucked in his palm waiting for her to light up with him.

"Lovely, and I'm mother Teresa. Saving children and such. Now that we have fairytales in place. What say you we get to the truth? Lana, as you know. But how?" She couldn't take her eyes off him. But he refused to look at her.

"That was the truth. Look Lana, I'm going to be honest here. Angels, we don't really get to have much fun. Actually only about 40 hours left for me in this millennium. These 48 hours are my day off. And I have had my sights set on you for about 6 years now. You are brilliant, funny, gorgeous and sweet beyond belief. We have spent every single one of my vacations together since the beginning of time. It just so happens that you are only just now feeling the fractions of refractions of memories of those interactions. Crappy thing about reincarnation, you don't get to take the memories with you. You are my one and only. My true love. My soul-mate. Any of this ringing a bell, babe, because I hate not holding your hand right now. And I would really like to just catch up and spend the rest of my vacation making love to you." His voice had finally changed. She could hear the pain in it. Feel the pressure of him cracking as he let her see that little bits of hope in him. As if he thought she wouldn't remember him. It only ever took a little bit. But once you meet your soul-mate. It wasn't that you remembered every moment with them, you just felt it. Deep inside your souls yearning to be close together, forever.

"Michael? I feel something. I just. I don't know. This is crazy. This can't. No." She looked away. But felt his hand set down on hers. She focused only on inhaling the cigarette she so carefully gripped between two fingers. And watching the heavy clouds in the sky.

"It's not crazy. I love you. I have always loved you." He had. She was always such an amazing angel herself. Right up until she wanted to be human. He cut her wings for her, she had begged him. He swore when he did that he would spend every moment he could finding her soul in her human form and loving her any way he could. The last visit had been torture. She was six, and he played tea time with her. Seriously. He had loved seeing her as a spunky little girl. Made him wonder if their kids would be anything like her, right up until he remembered they would never.

"So you just sweep in once a millennium and expect me to sleep with you?" She was slightly appalled. But honestly, wasn't really considering saying no. He was after all the sexiest man she had ever seen, and kind in a way she hadn't expected.

"Not quite. It has been some time since I was able to see you and you were ... let's say ... legal. And single." He looked down for a millisecond but recovered quickly.

"You mean. You're not fucking with me right now. We are some sort of made in heaven bullshit. And even though you're an angel and we're not married, were just going to what, hold up in my house and make love for two days straight?" She was still skeptical but she didn't want to argue. She just wanted to see what he meant.

"Yes and No. We aren't married in the church and gown sense. But when two souls are made for each other, God has already blessed the union. And we don't have to do anything you don't want to. I simply am going to drive you home and spend time with you any way you'll let me. You're my one true love." He pulled into her drive and got out. He was at her door and opened it. Waited patiently for her to get out and followed her up to the front door.

Her hand turned the knob, and she stepped inside. He stood one step down from where she had just been standing. At this height, he was level with her. And she could see into his eyes. He wanted to ask if he could come in. But he didn't want her to feel uncomfortable. Didn't want to push her.

"Come on you. Let me make you coffee and we can talk." A smile lifted the corner of his mouth and his blue eyes lit again. Playful. He was so adorable in a smoldering way that really should not be legal.

So they did. She talked about her life. He sat listened and made her laugh. His jokes were crass. His smile was too big for his face, but it was his laugh that got her. She would do anything to hear it forever. Mostly he just watched her. As she went about her cleaning and made lunch. He looked utterly entranced. He told her stories about the past visits over the years. Some times an hour. Sometimes two or three. But he watched her go about her life. It usually took him a few years after she had been reincarnated to locate. Turns out her past lives had mostly been in the same region. Souls liked to be around the same places.

It happened in an instant. She had set his lunch down on the table in front of him and her hand was on his shoulder. She kissed the top of his head, just like she had been doing it for years. As if this was the most natural thing that had ever happened. As if he really was her one and only. His eyes closed and he tilted into her kiss. Treasuring each tiny moment when her skin burned his. Breathing in her scent as it dissipated into the air. Feeling the heat off her body as she stood close enough to engulf in his arms. But he couldn't. He needed to give her space.

"Thank you for lunch Lana. You really didn't have to." He tried so hard to keep his voice from catching. But he hadn't wanted to call her Lana. He wanted to call her Lilyanna, the name that always fell on his lips when she was near. Her archangel name. But she had lost it when he took her wings for her. It was the name he had called her for eons. Until he couldn't.

"Really, it is no big deal. I like cooking for people I like. And you, I like. There's one thing I just don't get. Why would soul mates be separated like this? Isn't that a bit cruel? Who would do that? Put an eternal divide between two people so much in love?" She casually walked to her seat. And looked up at him. She saw pain in his eyes for only a second. The answer was a lie. But he couldn't bring himself to do anything to make her sad. All he wanted to do was see her smile.

The rest of the day passed easily. Hours like minutes. She found herself sitting closer to him. Feeling herself drawn to the way he said her name. Or walked across her floor. Eventually they found themselves curled up on the couch ignoring a movie. Her head was on his lap and his hands were in her hair. He had always loved her hair. Always loved playing with it. She laughed at the story of him and her playing tea party in the forties. He had spent two hours with her. Babysitting. She told him about her time in school, and what she did on the weekends, about the books she had read recently and every other tiny part of her life. And he listened as if each word was a gift.

Just as simply as breathing, she sat up and caught his lips in a kiss. Felt him holding himself back and wanting so badly to tear into her. His hands were on the back of her head and falling quickly down her shoulders on to her waist. She had moved and straddled him. Feeling his entire body warm like a fire burned just beneath his clothes. Her hands wandered to his shoulders, and pressed on the blades she found tensed on his back.

Pulling her lips from his, she grinned. "What no wings?" His grin was much more wicked than she had thought it could be.

"Oh I've got wings, missy. But an angel's wings are highly sensitive. I can't just have them out and about. They can be easily hurt. I'd be mortal if they were removed. And if handled just right I'd be incredibly turned on. But I guess that doesn't make a huge difference from what is going on right now." He arched his hips up to her and she blushed at the feeling of his need for her. It wasn't humanly possible for him to be that big. But then again, he wasn't human.

She leaned in to whisper in his ear but changed her mind. Instead she nipped at the tender lobe and traced the tip of her tongue upward for a second. If he thought he wanted her now. He had better brace himself for a difficult next hour. She was more than willing to tease him until he begged her. She knew he wanted her to take things at her own pace. But she would have jumped him in the diner if he had said she should. There wasn't anything she didn't want to do with this man, or to him.

Her hands slipped under his shirt and pulled it above his head. His calloused hands returned the favor and slipped her out of her bra as well. Lana leaned back and watched his face as he drank in the look of her naked body near his. He looked as if he was trying to memorize every follicle and freckle. Eventually he leaned in and caught her hard, delectable nipple between his teeth and began to nibble and flick in with his lips and tongue. His hands now tucked into the hem of her skirt he relished the feeling of her arching into him. Dragging her hot center impossibly slowly over his raging hard erection.

"Darling, my love. Please can I put that smile on your face I've been waiting to see for literally a thousand years?" His whole body was pulsing, and she could feel him burning hotly under her.

"Oh goodness, yes. I have condoms upstairs. I want you in me." She went to get up, but he stopped her.

"Oh don't go so quickly. That's not at all what I had in mind." His playful smile had returned. Wrapped in his arms Lana felt Michael lay her down on the floor of the living room. She hadn't taken her skirt off, and he hadn't removed his pants.

He was kissing her collar bone, tracing each kiss just a bit lower. Until he was soon finding her hip and then he moved the kisses to her knee and began to work his way up. She was trying so hard to sit still, but every molecule in her body needed to be closer to him. His nose pushed its way up under her skirt. Soon his fingers were hooked on her panties and moved them out of the way. He kissed her hot center and carefully started slowly moving his lips closer to her throbbing bud. When he finally wrapped his lips around her tiny, bright clit she was already audibly enjoying herself. He slipped a finger in her tight fortress and began to tease her two most sensitive areas into the most intense orgasm she had ever experienced.

When she was done screaming and shaking and Michael had thoroughly enjoyed the taste of her sweet dew on his lips and painting his face as she came over and over again for him, he leaned in and kissed her lips and whispered how much he loved her. He entered her just as she was returning the sentiment.

It wasn't long before she had him on his back and was slowly arching and bucking on top of him. He loved watching her pleasure herself on him. Loved feeling her clench as she reached ecstasy on him. His fingers pulled at her hips as she pulled back. His hips met each and every one of her thrusts. She leaned in and pulled his shoulders. They were both sitting up and she was so close to coming again. Her fingers winding in between the dark hairs on his chest, she couldn't help it any longer.

"Michael, my love, let me see your wings. Please, I swear I won't hurt you." Her voice was sweet, filled with a longing he much understood. It hadn't even crossed his mind that she would cause him pain. So he allowed his wings to burst forth and unfurl.

They stretched six feet in either direction. They weren't white like she had imagined them, but instead the most amazing shade of crisp grey. Just like the clouds that had been hovering over town. A grey that filled her heart with sorrow for reasons she couldn't explain. But his face pushed that thought out of her mind. He was smiling, watching her take in the sight of his wings. Her hands cautiously extended and she ran a finger over one of the feathers. Michael immediately tensed under her. He drew a deep breath in and held his hands firmly on her perfectly sculpted ass as he pulled himself deeper and deeper into her. Holding her tight against his chest he felt her around every inch of him.

Lana matched every one of Michael's slow but rough thrusts into her. Her hands ran down each wing and stroked them just as softly as she could manage. Her world was turning inside out as she felt the pressure building between them. Her voice acting of its own accord let out a moan so full of pleasure she was convinced it was actually pure ecstasy leaving her body. He clenched his jaw and groaned with her. Feeling her entire body shake and writhe on top of him Michael began shooting his seed deep inside her just as she was reaching the pivotal turning point in the high of her orgasm and coming down. His lips found hers and he gripped her close to him. His head eventually nuzzled against her chest and he found himself kissing her while he started falling asleep and she ran her fingers through his short hair.

He never wanted to let her go again. She was too much to him. The air was hollow without her and there was no sunshine until she was in the room. He was ready to remove his own wings and spend eternity with the woman he loved. Even if that meant searching for each other every single time they were reincarnated. He was never going to spend a lifetime away from her again.