The Angel By My Side

Mason stood in the doorway, steam escaping around him in swirling patterns, wearing nothing but a pair of briefs. I swallowed as I thickened in my boxers. I shook my head and looked back out the window, cursing myself for my reaction. Not only was Mason not someone I should be attracted to, he wasn't even technically human. I kept my eyes shut, listening to the music, but I could hear Mason step closer to me. When the band changed tempo, and relinquished jazz for slow music, I knew I was lost. Sexy as hell or not, I had another item to cross off my regret list. I didn't even look at him as I spoke.

"Will you dance with me?"

Mason's hand rested against my shoulder. "I didn't think you knew how."

"I don't." I turned to look in his eyes. "But I'd like to find out."

He smiled at me and nodded. "I'll stumble along with you."

I grinned as I stood. I put my arms around him, one at his waist, and the other across his shoulder blades. He mimicked my actions so we stood in a near embrace, our chests brushing against each other as we stumbled along, in a simple foot shuffle, back and forth.

I shut my eyes, so I could block out the reality, and imagine that all this was real, that who I held in my arms was a part of me, someone I could hold and cherish. My forehead lowered to Mason's as my breath became thick and heavy in my lungs, my throat tight with emotion. I rocked my head against his as I lost the battle with my penis and it rose to full attention and pressed into Mason's stomach. I ran my hand up and down his back, my thumb catching the groove where his wings came out. After the fourth brush of my fingers, Mason shuddered and held me tighter. I pulled back to look in his eyes and lost the last battle.

I lowered my mouth towards his, my lips partly open. So near, so close. When my lips hovered over his, I glanced at his eyes and saw surprise, his breath brushing against my mouth. I swallowed and buried my face in the hollow of his neck and breathed in the scent of soap. My body trembled as I stopped dancing. "I'm sorry."

I pulled away and sat down on the bed, refusing to look at Mason. He came to stand beside me but I turned away. I stood and turned off the lights and crawled into bed. I rolled over and tried to shut everything out, but it was impossible. My erection refused to subside and my own thoughts were beating me senseless.

After several long minutes, I reached out and flicked on the bedside lamp. Mason turned from where he stood, from where I'd left him, confusion etching his features. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have."

Mason shook his head and sat on the edge of the bed. "It's okay." He looked down to the floor and I saw two more feathers lying on the old rug. I got out of bed and picked them up, turning to him.

"Are you molting?"

Mason looked at me and then the feathers, a slight look of panic in his eyes. "No."

I held them in front of his face. "What does this mean?"

He looked in my eyes and swallowed. "I don't know."

I nodded and set the feathers by the bed. "I should probably sleep."

Mason stood and looked around the room. "I won't keep you."

I shut my eyes, hating how needy I was going to sound. "If I promise I won't kiss you, will you let me hold you while I sleep?"

When I didn't hear a response, I opened my eyes. Mason had a slight smile on his face. "If you want, yes."

I nodded and crawled into bed. Mason followed me under the covers. I didn't want to spoon behind him, I wanted his face to be buried against my shoulders, my legs entwined with his. After maneuvering our bodies, we got into the right position and I held him in my arms, careful to keep away from his shoulders. Mason's hand came up and brushed along the hair on my chest. I wasn't a bear, but I wasn't hairless either. His simple ministrations caused my calmed erection to stand back at attention. "Does it tickle?"

Mason pulled back so he could smile at me. "No. I just never felt it before." I chuckled and pulled his head to rest beneath my chin. Before I knew it, I was asleep.

I awoke alone, searching blindly with my arms for the warm body I'd grown used to having next to me in the night. My eyes still shut; I moved my foot and hand and found nothing. Sitting up, I opened my eyes and looked around. I found Mason, dressed, sitting in the chair on the balcony, staring at me.

I yawned loudly and stretched. "Good morning."

"Morning."

The brevity of Mason's reply caused me to shake off the rest of the sleep to stare at him. As I watched, a lone feather fell and drifted to the balcony floor. He had tears in his eyes. "What's going on? Why are you crying?"

"I don't know." His words were muffled, choked off. I watched a single tear fall against his cheek, unheeded. "I'm not sure what's happening."

I got out of bed and walked to him. I saw him slightly flinch as another feather drifted away from him. "Are you in pain?"

"No."

I knelt by his side and cupped his cheek. He pressed into my hand and I had to swallow. "Do you have an idea of what's happening?"

"Yes."

I sat back on my heels and waited. When he didn't speak, I took his hand in mine. "What?"

He looked anywhere but into my eyes. "Thousands of years ago, we could walk freely amongst you. We went unheeded mostly, but for a few of us, we could be seen by a human." He looked in my eyes. "You've heard of the fallen?"

I nodded. "Yes. Those angels who fell in love, either with a human, or the life that humanity could offer."

He smiled around his tears. "Yes. That's mostly true. Not all of us had direct contact. After a few centuries, it became obvious that it was living amongst humans that caused us to change, become corrupted." He swallowed. "It was decreed that no angel could walk amongst humankind any longer, because we are corrupted by humanity. We begin to... feel."

His words horrified me. "You need to leave then. You shouldn't stay with me." I stood and paced. "Thank you for helping me, but, you need to go."

Mason cleared his throat and looked at me. "I can't. I already tried."

I knelt by his side and took his hand in mine. "I'm so sorry. I didn't know. I never meant--"

He put his hand over my mouth and shook his head. "You've done nothing wrong." He gave me a small smile, lopsided, that brought out his right dimple. "You are a good man. I could have sat next to the pope and still been corrupted. It isn't the person, it's his life force; his essence. That which all men have."

"What can we do?"

He looked away. "I don't know. I can't hear Him anymore."

"I don't understand."

He cupped my face with his hand. "Do you know what Hell is?"

"Fire and brimstone."

He shook his head and laughed. "No. It's the utter absence of the presence of God." He stood and leaned against the balcony. Unmindful of my own undressed state, I joined him. "When you die, your soul leaves your body and is called home to the presence of God. For the sinners and other evil, they are trapped inside their bodies and placed into the ground, to be cut off from His presence."

"Have you sinned so badly?"

He turned and gave me a watery smile. "Technically, no."

"Technically?"

He shut his eyes. "I haven't sinned in action, just in thought."

I smiled and cupped his face. "Most people don't think that's a sin."

"It isn't really. But… thought leads to temptation… temptation leads to action."

I nodded. "Okay. So… you won't act on it." I turned and headed back inside, trying to act braver than I actually felt. "What do we do now?"

He came back from the balcony and stood in the door. "What is next on your list?"

I smiled and went to the dresser to grab some clothes. "A walk along the streets, some coffee and beignets, and we'll pick up our clothes and go out to dinner."

Mason nodded and looked towards the bathroom, kind of longingly. I stepped up to him and blocked his vision. He stared at my chest, and I watched him swallow. I snapped my fingers in front of his face and he looked at me. "Want to join me?"

He nodded and I took his hand, pulling him towards the bathroom. I dropped my boxers on the bathroom floor and helped pull Mason's jeans and shirt from him. As I grabbed an extra towel from the basket by the sink, my nose brushed through the hair above Mason's ear. It still smelled like shampoo from last night's shower. Lacking body oils and bacteria, he didn't sweat and his hair didn't become greasy. I think the shower was more of a comfort.

I turned on the water and adjusted the spray before we both got into the large bathtub and I pulled the curtain closed. I looked into Mason's eyes and smiled. He smiled back then grabbed the soap. He rubbed it between his hands until he built up a lot of lather. I reached for the soap, but he set it down. I watched as his hands reached out, almost fearfully, to be placed against my chest. I shut my eyes at the contact, the innocent, curious look in his eyes more than I could face. But keeping my eyes shut didn't help, it made the sensation of his fingers, gliding over my belly, caressing my chest, brushing my nipples, too strong, too much. My eyes flew open to see Mason staring, concentrating on his hands against my body.

Unheeded, my body stirred, thickening, lengthening, straining until the tip brushed against Mason's belly. Instead of feeling ashamed or embarrassed, I felt tingly, warm, happy. In the back of my mind, I knew that he wasn't appropriate; that what I now knew I felt was wrong. But, it wasn't going to go away either. Instead of being shy, I lost my sense of fear, and simply enjoyed watching Mason explore my body and accepted that it felt good, and that it was okay to feel good.

Mason looked up into my eyes and smiled. "Turn around."

I turned and faced the wall, the spray cascading down my back. I felt Mason's hands move against my shoulders, tracing the planes of the bone, the curve and point, before he ran his fingers along my spine, eliciting tiny shivers throughout my body. Shutting my eyes against the pleasure, biting my lips to keep from moaning, I nearly collapsed against the floor when Mason ran his hand over my ass. His fingers explored me, testing me. I don't know whether he was fascinated because my body, unlike him, was flawed. Perhaps it was the contrast of smooth to rough. But his touch made me shudder.

I felt as his fingers ran along a scar across my hip, something I'd gotten when I fell off my bike when I was seven. The way he traced the faint line made me tremble, so much so that I had to brace my hands against the wall. I heard him shift before I felt his hands against my ankle, as he knelt behind me. He ran his hands up each of my legs, tracing his finger through the soapy, hairy path, finding each trail and whorl against my skin.

After he'd made me a quivering mass of turned on flesh, he stood and pressed me gently into the water, so that all the soap rinsed off. When I turned around to look at him, my erection brushed against his abdomen. I clamped my lips shut but couldn't contain the moan. I lowered my forehead to his and placed my hands on his shoulders. My whole body shook and shuddered as my hands tightened on his flesh.

"Did I do something wrong?"

I chuckled, but it came out harsh to my ears. "No. I'm just a little too aroused."

"Aroused?"

I bit back a groan. I honestly didn't think I could explain every nuance of sex to Mason at that moment. "Yeah. Aroused. Very much so."

I had my eyes shut, trying to will my body to calm. Mason's hand closed around my shaft and stroked once. I muffled a curse and jumped back. "Don't do that. Please don't."

Mason looked away. "I'm sorry. Did I hurt you?"

I tilted his face back to look at me. "In the best of ways."

He cocked his head to the side. "I don't understand."

I pulled him closer and wrapped my arms around him. "It's okay. Being this aroused and primed for sex, makes every touch almost agonizingly pleasurable."

I felt his nod against my neck. "I understand."

I laughed and pulled back to look at him. "Not even close." I stared at his lips for a long while. I wasn't sure when my feelings grew so out of control, or when I stopped being afraid, but at that moment, I had to kiss him.

I lowered to his lips and brushed mine against his, slowly, languidly, as if I had all the time in the world. Immediately, I was lost to the taste, the flavor, the sweet sensation. Shutting my eyes, I moaned as my tongue played with his lip, begging for entrance, blindly searching for I knew not what. Except for a rather bruising kiss just days before from Jim, I had never kissed anyone before. Yet even though I was untried, I somehow knew I was doing it right. As my lips brushed against Mason's, I felt his mouth open, in an almost comical way, like a large mouthed bass. I would have laughed, if it hadn't felt so good. His every move, his every gesture was innocent, wholly and completely, yet utterly sincere. I was lost to the headiness of it all.

Pressing my body against his, moving my hands to take him in my arms, I noticed several things at once. He was shorter than I, though more solidly built, sturdier, stockier. He also had the smoothest, softest skin. But unlike me, he wasn't rampantly aroused, hard as a rock. His body remained flaccid. Instantly, I pulled away and stared at his wide open eyes. Shame slammed into my gut as I turned away to shut off the water. "I'm sorry."

A gentle, tender caress of my shoulder was all the response I got, all that I'd allow him to give. Stepping out of the shower, I grabbed a towel, wrapped it around my waist, and walked into our shared room, and sat on the dresser, to watch the courtyard. I shut my eyes and tried to push it all away, the need, the want, the desire, the loneliness; because it was all going to be unrequited, again.

I heard Mason moving behind me, gathering clothing. I squeezed my eyes tighter, trying to block out the images as I heard him. But it was no use. I could see him pulling on the briefs, the sound of cotton smoothing over his thighs, the snap of elastic as he adjusted himself inside. The cool cloth of the shirt as it went over his head and the sound of a zipper closing, I could see clearly in my mind. When he was done dressing, Mason came and stood beside me, placing his hand on my shoulder.

I opened my eyes and looked away. "When my parents died, I realized that I was alone in the world. There are hundreds of people around me, who know me, but no one that makes me their number one priority." I shrugged his hand off my shoulder and stood, walking towards the bureau and my clothes. "It aches in my gut, to see so many people so happy." I looked at Mason, and realized my eyes must be bleak indeed, for him to smile so sympathetically at me. "It's my own fault that I'm at this point, alone save you." I sat to put on my socks, and simply let them fall. "I've always been too shy to let anyone in, because I was too afraid of what would happen if they turned from me."

Mason came over to where I sat, staring at the floor, but seeing nothing. He picked up my socks and lifted my foot. As he put my sock on me, he looked into my eyes. "You feel too much. You have no shields on your emotions." He dropped my foot and picked up the other. "That is your strongest and weakest gift."

I stared at Mason, shaking my head, nearly smiling. "How is it you understand me so well?"

He chuckled as he sat back on his haunches. "I have witnessed every moment of every day of your life." His smile faded as he looked over my shoulder, off into space. "It takes you a long time to be comfortable with someone, to let them inside." His eyes met mine again. "But once they get inside you, they never go away. Once they are inside your heart, you never let them go, and you forgive everything." He stood and walked towards the door. "You are the rock everyone leans on, and they come in and out of your life, leaving you behind, wondering what you did to make them leave you."

Mason turned and looked right at me. "You've done nothing but be who you are. Of all the people I've observed, you will stay with me forever. You are a quietly noble person."

I turned away, uncomfortable with his scrutiny. "If I were so noble, I wouldn't have kissed you."

"It was an… interesting experience."

I stared back at Mason, smiling slightly. "After. Will I see you?"

Mason's face went blank; as if he became that statue I likened him to when I first saw him. "No."

"Why?"

He swallowed. "I could come see you, but you won't see me or recognize me."

"I'd know you anywhere."

He shook his head slowly and smiled. "No. You won't." He stood before me, placing his hand in my hair, sifting it through his fingers. "You are going to be called home to His presence. You won't even know I'm there."

I stared away, shutting my eyes against the sadness, the tears. When I could breathe near normal, when the vice on my heart had lessened a bit, I stood. "Come, let's get some breakfast and window shop."

After picking up our new clothing and dropping them off at the hotel, I left Mason at a corner cafe, eating beignets, which he'd gotten a huge craving for, as I browsed along Jackson Square. As I walked I passed St. Louis Cathedral. Without pausing to think, I pushed open the doors and stepped inside. The hushed, funereal atmosphere sobered me and made me want to whisper.

Neither of my parents had been catholic, and only in their declining years, had they at all turned towards God. But because of the horror-filled look from Mason that morning on the balcony, I found my own desire to speak with the Almighty. I picked a row and moved halfway down then knelt. I bowed my head and remembered the pained, panicked look of Mason's and found the words poring through my mind.Is he to be punished for caring for me? I didn't know. Please don't shut him out for my error.

I stared at the ceiling, unmindful of the tears I had running down my face.Please don't do this.

Why?

My breath caught in my chest. Another voice.I don't want him to be punished because of me.

Why?

What do you mean, why?

Why should you care?

I sat back and looked around me.Of course I care.

But why do you care?

I shook my head and stared at the altar at the front of the church.My feelings don't matter.

But they do.

Why?

You know.

I shut my eyes and tried to calm my breathing. I didn't want to go where the voice was leading me. I didn't want to face my feelings, as hopeless as they were.Please.

Please, what?

Please let him go home. Don't look him away, in the dark. Alone. Please?

Why?

No.

Why?

No!

Why?

I sobbed once.Because I love him.

Whatever presence had visited me, never answered me again. After an unknown time, I stood, wiped my cheeks of their tears, and left the church.

I found Mason sitting at the same little bistro table I'd left him at, working on his third plate of beignets. He looked up at me with a powdered sugar moustache and grinned. Now that I'd finally admitted my feelings, I couldn't help but smile back, and revel in my feelings. His innocence, his joy, his life force were so strong, so comforting, that yes, of course, I fell in love with him.

I sat across from Mason and snagged one of the last beignets, bit into it, and grinned as Mason shot me a hurt, lost puppy look. "We can get more."

Mason smiled and shook his head. "I've already had four plates."

I raised my eyebrows. "You enjoy life very much. Everything you do is like a child."

He arched his brows and cocked his head, very much like a curious puppy or inquisitive kid. I chuckled. "With joy and wonder. I think we should have called you Peter."

"Why?"

"Like Peter Pan, the boy who didn't want to grow up."

He sat back and chuckled. "And he could fly."