Martin knew he had to build up the muscles in his backs before he took actual flight. Of course he knew that, he read it so often in self-taught manuals, but it's been over three weeks. Three weeks of constant stretching and flapping exercises. And Martin was getting frustrated day by day.

It wasn't Douglas' fault but…

No. No, it was all Douglas' fault.

On some level Martin was internally grateful to the older man, glad to have a teacher without sacrificing an arm or a leg to pay for it. Everything would be perfect if Douglas didn't teach in such a Douglas way.

"Oh, Martin. I've seen old ladies flap better than that. Really. But don't tell Carolyn I said that."

"If you can't hover at least ten feet off the ground, I get the brie. Ready? Go! Aaaaaaaaand… oh look, the brie is mine."

"Wow, I can honestly say you fly GERTI better than you can fly here, but not by much. Don't give me that look, Martin, it's a compliment."

It had been nearly four months since Martin realized he was never going to find his true mate. If that thought wasn't nearly depressing enough, spending nearly an hour a day with Douglas while he took such glee verbally cutting Martin down was torture.

Martin kept at it because he knew he needed to keep at it. The horrific, desperate need to fly overrode any hostility he felt towards Douglas and his constant put-downs. But as the third week slowly melted into the fourth, Martin one day found himself taking matters into his own hands.

He was already having enough of a stressful day. Four clients cancelled on him, one the students took a drunken piss on his van, and as he drove to the airfield, a cop pulled him over because his taillight was broken.

By the time he arrived to the airfield, he was already seething and was not looking forward to an hour's worth of Douglas' putdowns.

The portacabin was empty.

Of course it was. Martin was glad for this, not wanting to exchange simple pleasantries with Arthur or Douglas so early in the morning, so soon after getting the ticket. He was too upset to be nice to anyone, afraid he might just snap at somebody for something silly. He sat down in one of the plastic chairs (apparently wood chairs was too expensive for Carolyn) and the poor thing squawked under his weight.

But being alone also meant he had to sit here in the cabin, twiddling his thumbs, waiting for someone to come.

Martin leaned back in his chair, sighing, his wings fluttering softly in response. They indeed had gotten stronger over the past few weeks. He could feel the muscles when he touched them. He'll be ready to fly soon.

Martin scanned the empty cabin. It was unlikely Douglas was going to show for another hour, and neither Arthur or Carolyn was there to talk to him otherwise…

Despite no one was around to see him, Martin discreetly took off his jacket, his hat, placed them quietly on the table and whisked out the door.

()

The OS was thankfully isolated this time. Martin hated doing his warm-ups in front of others. It was bad enough so many passengers were witness to his face-planting. It was worse when many of them, younger than himself, giggled noisily as they left.

Feeling rather mischievous, Martin quickly went through his stretching exercises, too eager to begin. He shook out his limbs, rattled his fathers, and crouched in position.

He jumped, his wings flapping hard.

He got a good ten feet off the ground. Without moving, he momentarily hovered in space for a few seconds. He bent his wings in and he immediately descended. His feet made the most wonderful dust clouds in the dirt.

He smiled wildly.

He did it again, this time getting to fifteen feet before letting himself drop. The height was a bit too much for his knees when he landed, though despite the pain, his heart thumped happily.

One more time, he thought. Just one more for, just for him, not for Douglas or his mate that had yet to show her face…

He jumped hard, wings outstretched to its fullest length. He surprised himself when that particular jump got him to the height of twenty-five feet. His smile only wavered for a moment, thinking of the best way to touch down without hurting himself. Now, if he simply glided towards the door-

A sudden gust of wind came from the east, blasting him with such force, his eyes shut closed. The wind shifted up, catching his wings, throwing the young Captain upwards into the sky, passing thirty, forty, fifty feet within a matter of moments.

"Oh- o-oh God-!"

Martin didn't know how high he was at the moment. High enough to see the whole of Fitton airport, the car park, high enough if his wings should fail, he would certainly fall to his death.

Oh God, why did he do this? He heard the stories, he's seen the tv reports, what made him think he was capable of flying by himself? He barely knew how to glide!

"Okay, okay," Martin trembled, thinking as fast as he can. He was high, but his wings were still open, still keeping him aloft. He was pilot, for fucks sake, if he can land a five-hundred ton aeroplane, he can land himself.

The air was so much different up here, so much colder. He wished he could observe more. This was what he was waiting for his whole life and now he couldn't even enjoy it.

Okay, all he had to do was glide down, gently. Yeah, do that. Do what he does with GERTI. Circle slowly until he touches down. Yeah, that was a plan. A great plan. He could do that. He could do that.

Martin shifted his wings lightly, hoping the movement will give him the needed momentum to go forward- "ARGGHH!"

The movement was a bad idea. Immediately his muscles contracted and cramped, exploding in white-hot pain across his back. His right wing collapsed and curled in on itself like a dead spider's legs. Martin was thrown, shifted to face the sky and he fell.

He didn't know how fast he was falling, he didn't know how much time until he splattered on the ground. His right wing was useless, while his left tried to move, but the strong rush of air just made it flail stupidly. Martin couldn't breathe, couldn't turn himself around, couldn't hear from the dull roar of wind flashing past his ears.

His hands were stretched out into the sky, desperately asking for its forgiveness. He was suddenly reminded of his youth, when he laid back on his tiny wings, thinking of the day that he will soon be connected with that giant, endless blue.

He couldn't believe all he got was a mere ten seconds. It wasn't fair.

He saw something at the edge of his vision. He thought it was the ground and he turned his head towards it.

It wasn't the ground.

It was Douglas.

Douglas barreled straight into him. Martin thought all the air from his lungs were gone and was proven wrong when the force of Douglas slamming into him made him grunt.

"Hang on!" Douglas cried out, his arms wrapping around Martin's torso. His wings flared out to its fullest length, a fantastic thirty feet, desperate to catch the air and slow their descent.

They were still falling too fast. Nobody's wings were designed to carry more than their own weight.

"Doug-" Martin tried to tell him. Tell him to let Martin go otherwise they will both die.

As if he heard his thoughts, Douglas gritted his teeth, tightened his hold on Martin, and just as the young man saw Fitton airport come into his eye-line, Douglas flapped once, HARD.

For less than quarter of a second, they were suspended in a moment of zero gravity. Time seemed to have stopped for Martin, everything frozen in that small amount of space between life or death.

He could see droplets of sweat from Douglas hovering perfectly away from his face. His hair was swept back from the rush of air, his eyes so wide and glassy Martin could see himself in their reflection. His wings, his giant grey wings were stretched out, beautiful and perfect. Martin could see every feather, every individual barb. And with Fitton's early morning sun rising in the background, for that tenth of a second, Douglas looked like an angel.

Oh.

They slammed onto the ground none-too-gently, both of them giving out equal amounts of pained squeals. Martin was on his back, while Douglas half-laid on top of him, his wings dead by his side.

Martin raised one shaky arm and draped it gently across Douglas' back, too tired to give a proper hug.

Douglas, breathing so hard it sounded like it hurt, lifted his head to stare wildly at Martin. "You…" he began dangerously. "Clot! What the hell were you thinking!"

"Douglas-"

"Oh, shut up! Do you know what could've happen if I wasn't there? You're damn lucky I knew you were going to try this! For someone who is such a stickler for the rules, you would think you would follow your own damn advice!"

"Douglas-"

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't throttle you right here, right now! One damn good reason, because Martin, I'm only a few seconds away from wringing your neck-"

The arm that was around his back was suddenly around the back of his head, dragging him down. Martin lifted his head up, catching Douglas' lips in mid-rant.

"It was you," Martin said against his mouth. "It's you, it's always been you."

Martin kissed him again and again, trying to coax something out of him other than stunned stillness. Douglas was like a frozen statue, body locked so stiffly and tense.

Martin was afraid, afraid Douglas did not feel the same when his unwillingness to kiss back continued. It couldn't be, not when Martin finally realized it was he who gave him his wings. Was that how his whole life was going to be like? To find something only for it to be taken away from him?

Just as Martin pulled away, thinking he should apologize before he could fuck this up even more, Douglas' mouth descended on him, kissing him back with more teeth than lip. "You clot," he hissed between kisses. "You goddamn clot. Don't you dare ever do that to me again. I'm too fucking old."

"Sorry," Martin said, smiling. He hissed out in pain when Douglas tried to shift him closer.

Douglas pulled away at the noise, frowning. He rubbed a hand across Martin's chest, pressing against his ribs. "Do you have any broken bones?"

"No," Martin said, wincing slightly. "I think I'm just bruised."

"Well, here comes the ambulance," Douglas indicated with a nod of his head. "I think all of Fitton saw you fall."

Martin looked and saw where he was for the first time. The wind must've carried him far because he was nowhere near the OS. Instead, he and Douglas laid in the restricted field just outside the runways. The ambulance with its lights on full, bounced in the grass as it came towards them, the siren blaring loudly and echoing.

Behind them, flying their way towards them also was Arthur and Carolyn.

Martin winced. "Do you think they saw us kissing?"

"Do you care?" Douglas asked.

Martin could feel his wings ruffle in response. He couldn't move them just yet, they were still suffering from the cramp, but pleasure was slowly blooming across them. It felt wonderful.

Martin grinned. "Not really."

END