Note: contains explicit sex of a homoerotic nature.

The world was colorless in the rain, the buildings gray and soggy like discarded boxes, leaning against each other precariously. The streets were empty, the water flooding down their black lengths awash with oily rainbows. A truck idled beside a curb, the windows fogged over. The rain was cold, numbing, and the dry cab of the truck promised heat.

With one arm around his friend's shoulders, Gabe crouched through the rain, heading for the truck. Standing against the wet metal, he rapped on the passenger side window, the sound of his knuckles on glass dull to his ears. It had been so long since he had been down here, among mortals. Even the sounds hurt.

He heard the pop of the lock, and then he opened the door, pushing Luce inside. He didn't look at the blood on his hands, or the chopped stalks protruding from his friend's shoulder blades. Clambering up into the cab beside Luce, he pulled the door shut and turned to the driver, a short, stocky man who stared at them with wide eyes behind bottle glasses. "You're not my wife!" the man cried, his voice high pitched and shrill.

No shit, Gabe thought, but he couldn't remember the words in this man's language. Beside him Luce sat hunched over in pain, and Gabe spread one large, protective wing over his friend's back. Almost immediately Gabe's thick feathers, usually a brilliant white but now gray with water, turned a bright crimson, stained with Luce's blood. "My friend is hurt," Gabe said, his speech halting, unsure. "Is there someone who can help?"

The driver looked down at Luce and saw the blood. A thin squeal escaped his lips, and then he nodded. "A hospital," he whispered. "Not far from here. I can take you."

Gabe nodded wearily. "Please," he said. The driver put the truck into gear and they pitched forward as the truck leapt from the curb. Gabe hugged Luce close. "Almost there," he whispered into his friend's ear. He didn't know if Luce heard him or not, but the words were soothing and comforting to Gabe. "Almost there," he repeated, rocking slightly.

The bloody stumps that used to be Luce's wings cut into Gabe's chest, but Gabe ignored them.

****

Luce had come to him that morning, tears streaking his alabaster face. "What's wrong, love?" Gabe asked, rushing to embrace his friend. Luce covered his face with his hands and let Gabe pull him close. "What?" Gabe asked, concerned. "What is it?"

In his arms, Luce cried. "I'm to leave at once," he said, his voice thick with tears.

Fear curled in Gabe's stomach. "Leave?" he asked, not sure he understood. "You mean you've been sent on a mission?"

Luce shook his head, his long straight hair brushing against Gabe's chin. "I mean I've got to fall."

The words echoed in Gabe's head. "No," he whispered, running his hands up Luce's back until he held the shafts of Luce's wings in his hands. Those proud, beautiful, ebony wings so black they looked blue in the sun. He remembered the way his own ivory wings entwined with Luce's when they made love, soaring high above the world until they touched the stars -- Luce couldn't fall. He couldn't. "Why?" Gabe asked, choking back a sob. "Why?"

Luce shook his head again. "You know why," he whispered.

"But I'm to blame!" Gabe cried. And it was true. It had been he who fell in love first, when he met Luce so long ago. It had been he who seduced the younger angel, who invited him to his bed and held him so close that first night, the two of them trembling with fear of discovery. As time passed and no one questioned their friendship, Gabe let himself believe that no one noticed. Or that no one cared. But he should have known -- angels were not meant to love. "It's all my fault," he said, resolution strengthening his voice. "I'll tell Him it was my fault. You don't have to fall for me."

He hugged Luce tight and rocked him gently. Gabe pushed back his fear and hoped his position would grant him an audience immediately. He couldn't let Luce fall because of his own lust.

****

The rain made driving difficult, but the heater was at full blast, and the driver concentrated on keeping them on the road. Gabe was simply grateful that they were moving. Luce would be all right. As long as they got to a doctor soon, got the stumps removed, the wounds cleaned and stitched. "You're going to be okay," Gabe whispered.

Luce groaned and rolled against him, his head resting on Gabe's bare thigh. Luce's forehead was hot against Gabe's skin, his lank hair brushing the hem of Gabe's tight shorts, the only piece of clothing the angel wore. Luce's shorts were red with his own blood, streaked and torn, and the ends of his hair were bloody as well. "Gabe," Luce moaned into his leg, his breath feverish. "I'm dying."

"You're not dying," Gabe lied. He had never heard of an angel who lived through the fall, but Luce hadn't fallen alone. "You're going to be fine. Just hold on a little bit longer." To the driver, he barked, "Can't you drive any faster?"

"What, and kill us all?" the driver snarled, hunched over the steering wheel. Gabe pulled his wings closer around Luce and prayed for their safety, but he didn't think anyone up there was listening anymore.

****

When he had tried to see Him, Gabe was denied. "He's busy," Rafe said, not meeting Gabe's eyes. "You can make an appointment --"

"An appointment?" Gabe cried. "Rafe, it's me. Since when have I needed an appointment? I'm His messenger, for the love of --"

"Watch it," Rafe snarled. He glared at Gabe. "You have to make an appointment now."

Gabe bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself still. Forcing himself to speak calmly, he said, "I must speak with Him immediately. It's about Luce --"

A look of disgust crossed Rafe's features. Then his voice softened and he said, "Gabe, I've known you since the heavens were created. But ever since you started hanging around with ... with him, you've changed. I noticed, the others noticed, He noticed. It's his own doing. There's nothing you can say now to stop the fall."

"It's my fault," Gabe cried. "I seduced him! From the moment I saw him, my heart was filled with desire and craving and lust. It should be me who falls, not him!"

But Rafe shook his head. "Who put those feelings into your heart, Gabe?" he asked quietly, and Gabe knew then that there was nothing he could say or do to stop Luce's fall.

****

Gabe had found Luce in the garden. He stood with his arms crossed and his black wings wrapped around his thin body as he stared out over the lush green foliage from the shade of an apple tree in full bloom. He must have heard Gabe approach, but he didn't turn around. Gabe ran his hands beneath Luce's coarse feathers and across his back, encircling his narrow waist until he cupped Luce's hands in his own. Setting his chin on Luce's shoulder, he sighed. "It didn't work," Luce said softly. It wasn't a question.

Gabe shook his head, his blond curls brushing lightly against Luce's dark hair. What else could he say? Soon Luce's beautiful wings would be clipped, and he would be hurled from the clouds. There was nothing to say.

So instead of words, Gabe kissed Luce's shoulder, the skin soft and hot beneath his lips. He heard Luce sigh as he trailed tiny kisses along his neck, his hands pressing Luce closer. He nuzzled behind Luce's ear and thrust his hips against his friend's body, his erection already growing between them. Luce pushed back with his buttocks, the thin fabric of their tight shorts suddenly chafing Gabe's skin. He wanted to lie naked with Luce's arms and legs wrapped around him, their wings laced together, their tongues and hands exploring every inch of warm skin. He nibbled Luce's earlobe and rubbed harder against him, his hands drifting down to cradle Luce's own stiffening cock. He squeezed the hardness and heard Luce gasp in pleasure.

A deep sound filled the air, bell-like, shaking the ground slightly with its tenor. The signal. Gabe He hugged Luce tight before releasing him. When Luce turned around, his eyes were wide with fear. "Don't worry," Gabe said, squeezing his friend's arm. He hoped his own fear didn't show. "I'll be there for you."

Luce nodded. Then he leaned forward and pressed his lips to Gabe's, his mouth hot. His tongue licked over Gabe's lips before delving inside, tasting his teeth, his cheeks, his tongue. When Luce pulled back, he whispered, "I'll never forget you."

Gabe's body ached for more than that simple kiss. "I won't let you," he replied.

****

They entered the rotunda together, Gabe's fingers interlaced with Luce's. Gabe squeezed Luce's hand and remembered when they first met, here, at a party in His honor. Luce had been leaning against one of the carved pillars, half hidden in shadows, his dark eyes blazing as he watched the other angels mingle. From his perch near the throne, Gabe noticed him, watched the way those lithe muscles moved beneath the dusky skin, and hunger seized his heart. He wanted that body next to his, those wings, that hair, those eyes. Sidling up behind Luce, Gabe ran one hand across the bottom of an inky wing, ruffling the feathers. Luce spun around and locked eyes with him -- Gabe felt the hunger swell inside and couldn't stop himself from leaning close, pressing his hips against Luce's leg. Into Luce's ear he whispered, "I want you." Luce took one look at Gabe's broad chest and simply nodded. They left the party.

But the angels gathered in the rotunda now were not here for a jovial party. A look of bloodlust clouded their eyes, and Gabe felt his heart twist as two lesser angels grabbed his arms and pulled him away from Luce. He saw two more angels dragging Luce away, and Luce's dark, frightened eyes pierced deep into Gabe's soul. "No!" he cried, wanting the chance to speak, to tell them what it was like to hold Luce close, to show them his love for his friend. If only he could find the words -- surely they couldn't condemn a love like this. Surely they would understand ...

And then Mike was there, brandishing his scimitar, the blade easily as long as his thigh. Raising it high above his head, he intoned the ritual prayer. "In the name of the Father," his strong voice bellowed as he swung the sword. The sharp blade chopped into the root of Luce's wing with a thick sound, and Gabe's scream mingled with Luce's own. Dark blood bubbled from the wound, spilling over the black feathers, staining them a crimson hue.

"In the name of the Son," Mike continued, the blade coming down again, severing the wing completely. It fell to the white tile below like a dead bird. The feathers turned an ashy color, puckering where they were splattered with blood. Luce's face was pressed against the floor, his skin mottled, his screams silent now. The only sounds were Gabe's own cries.

"In the name of the Holy Spirit," Mike cried, and hacked the other wing. The blade broke the shaft in two, and the wing hung by just a thread until Mike snapped it off and tossed it away. It fell to the floor, the feathers dun, unreal. As the angels dragged Luce to the edge of the rotunda, Mike wiped the blood from his blade with the dead feathers at his feet and intoned, "Amen." The angels tossed Luce over the edge.

"No!" Gabe screamed. Tears streamed down his cheeks and blurred his vision, but he found the strength to shrug off the arms that held him. When they fell away he flew for the edge, hoping it wasn't too late. Luce lay curled into himself on the clouds below, his blood a stain spreading around him, his eyes closed. Was he even alive? Gabe didn't know, but without his wings Luce began to fall through the thin cloud beneath him. With an extra burst of speed, Gabe flew at him, hoping to reach him before it was too late. His hands scooped beneath Luce's body just as Luce broke through the clouds, and Gabe curled his wings around his lover as he felt the first drops of rain on his bare flesh. In his arms, Luce was suddenly heavy, mortal.

Together they fell.

****

Through the driving rain, Gabe could see flashing red lights, a washed out building full of urgency. As the driver squealed to a stop, Gabe already had the door open, and he guided Luce out gently. Everywhere his hands touched his friend's body, they came away burned. Turning towards the driver, he said, "May the Lord be with you, friend, for your kindness." He hoped his words were more a blessing than a curse.

The driver nodded quickly. "Will your friend be all right?" he asked.

Gabe cradled Luce beneath one wing, sheltering him from the rain. Each drop that struck Gabe sent shivers of pain through his angelic body. "I hope so," he whispered.

"Angels," the driver hooted. "Wait'll my wife hears this. Goddamn angels."

You don't know how right you are, Gabe thought bitterly, slamming the truck's door shut behind him. He hurried into the hospital.

Inside it was too bright, too loud, but Gabe stopped the first mortal he saw, a woman dressed entirely in white. She turned and looked at his wet wings, his damp curls, and in a tight voice asked, "Yes?"

Gabe opened his wing and showed her Luce. In this harsh light, the stumps of severed wings looked like broken glass stabbed into his back. He was awash with blood, and his skin looked greenish and sickly. "My friend," Gabe choked.

Suddenly they were taking Luce away from him on a long white bed, wheeling him through doors that swung shut in Gabe's face. He ran a hand through his hair, wiping blood through his curls, and sighed shakily. This was out of his hands now. His body ached with exhaustion, but he stood at the window and watched the gray world outside through the pouring rain, his once brilliant wings curled around him, a damp, unpleasant smell rising from them.

Some time later the woman came back. "Your friend is resting," she said softly, and Gabe turned to face her. His eyes searched hers until he saw the truth written there -- Luce was dying. He covered his mouth with the back of one hand to fight the tears.

"Can I see him?" he asked. The woman nodded, pointing through the double doors. With long strides he crossed the room and entered into the corridor beyond.

It was silent here, the few physicians in the hall talking quietly amongst themselves. One looked up and, seeing Gabe, jerked a thumb towards another door. Gabe pressed his forehead against the hard wood to steady himself, then opened the door and stepped inside. He heard the latch catch as the door closed behind him.

In the room's only bed, Luce lay still, his legs and arms hidden beneath a white sheet pulled up to his dark nipples. As Gabe came closer, Luce opened his eyes and smiled. The pain and darkness behind those eyes, once so full of life and love, made Gabe's throat ache. "Luce," he sobbed, cupping his friend's hand through the thin sheet.

Luce closed his eyes. "You didn't have to fall," he whispered, his voice dull.

"Shh," Gabe replied, brushing his lips over Luce's pale face. "You're going to be all right."

"I'm dead," Luce said, and Gabe felt more tears sting his eyes. "And you might as well be, for helping me."

"Don't talk like that," Gabe said. He kissed Luce's lips, his cheeks, his chin. "Everything will be fine, you'll see."

But Luce was already fading. His skin took on an ashen pallor, and as Gabe hugged him close, Luce whispered, "I'll never forget you."

"No!" Gabe cried, clutching Luce's body tight against his, rocking them both back and forth. But the life-force was gone, and he only held an empty husk in his arms. "No," he cried again, his hands covering the white bandages on Luce's back. He felt a numbness creep into his arms, his heart, his mind. He wrapped his wings around Luce, wings that were useless now. He would never fly again. He would never soar among the clouds, Luce in his arms. He would never touch the stars while they lost themselves in each others' embrace.

He cradled his friend's body for a long time, afraid to let go.

THE END