On Broken Wings I'm Falling: In a universe where humans have wings, Blaine's less than proud of his wings since they'd been destroyed the night of the Sadie Hawkins Dance
"You don't have to do this if you don't want to." Kurt whispered, breathless as he watched Blaine's trembling hands reach for the buttons of his shirt.
"N-no." Blaine said, voice quivering just like his hands. "I—I want you to see."
Kurt, already shirtless himself, leaned forward and covered Blaine's hands with his own, guiding their fingers down the buttons until his shirt was completely off. Slipping his fingers under the hem of Blaine's undershirt, Kurt slid it up Blaine's chest, over his head until he was completely topless. Kurt ignored the quiver that ran through his body as his eyes swept over Blaine's bare torso. Blaine didn't move for a moment, frozen in insecurity, until slowly he slipped his eyes closed and a soft swishing sound sounded through the room.
Kurt bit back a gasp at the sight before him.
Protruding from Blaine's back were the most frayed set of wings Kurt had ever seen. His left wing was about half the length of his right, the edges uneven, some the feathers pointing in different directions as if the root hadn't healed right. His right wing was longer, about five feet out, Kurt guessed that was Blaine's original length, a 10-foot wingspan. But though the right wing was longer, it wasn't any better off. There were patches in the middle where feathers were missing, like the roots had been permanently damaged when the feathers had been ripped out. The edges of this wing too were uneven, the tip of the wing bent oddly like the bone had been broken and then not set to heal.
But that wasn't the most striking thing about Blaine's wings. His wings were the most gorgeous color Kurt had ever seen before. At the base they were a muted gold, then fading across to the tip into a dark navy blue shade. It was like nothing Kurt had ever seen. Despite the abuse the wings had obviously taken, they were still so gorgeous. So Blaine. Rough at first glance, but actually stunningly beautiful.
At Kurt's silence a blush creeped across Blaine's face, his wings curling around him slightly in his embarrassment.
"May I?" Kurt breathed, his fingers slowly reaching out to Blaine's wing but not quite touching. Blaine simply nodded, looking lost. Kurt reached all the way, fingers slowly running through Blaine's feathers as they made contact. They were as soft as they were beautiful, softer than Kurt's own feathers (and he treated his every night). He ran his hand up and down the end of Blaine's right wing. He slowly brought his other hand up to touch Blaine's small wing.
"It was the night of the Sadie Hawkins dance." Blaine whispered suddenly, watching Kurt's face closely. Kurt nodded needing no more explanation. He couldn't imagine what kind of excruciating pain Blaine must have gone through that night getting his feathers ripped out, his wings broken, torn in half. Kurt's breath came out shallow and uneven at the thought.
"They're beautiful." He found himself finally saying aloud before he realized it, taking one feather in between his thumb and forefinger.
"What?" Kurt looked from the wing back to Blaine's face. The junior looked shocked, completely disbelieving. Without a word of explanation Kurt slowly freed his own wings. (His were a solid chocolate brown, soft as satin, and had a twelve-foot wing span.) Blaine said nothing either, eyes turning to his boyfriend's wings. They were wings he'd seen before, but every time he saw them…from the look on his face you'd think it was the first time.
Slowly Kurt curled his wings around himself, much as Blaine was, and laced his feathers within Blaine's. He pressed their wings together in a cocoon around the two of them, making his perfect wings and Blaine's tattered ones fade together as one.
Taking Blaine's hands in his, Kurt brought them up so they were pressed softly in between their bare chests. He softly kissed Blaine's knuckles before tilting his head so their foreheads touched. Kurt leaned slowly and pressed their lips together lightly, chastely. "They're perfect." He breathed, lips barely removed from Blaine's.
"Do you really think so?" Blaine asked, voice cracking as a lone tear escaped his eye.
Kurt nodded, a soft smile gracing his lips as he looked deep into Blaine's eyes. "You're perfect. You're absolutely perfect."