Archive of Our Own ^beta

          “You’ve never flown before?”

          Klavier Gavin found himself scowling at the question, his ruffled wings pressing into his back, hiding. He didn’t want to answer such a question; he knew the answer was pathetic.

          “Why?”

          Klavier turned to the man who had been mentoring him for the past year, “What’s it to you? Are you going to laugh at me!?”

          Simon Blackquill blinked at him, surprised, his innocent gray eyes staring like a lost kitten, “No…no, I’m not going to laugh.”

          “Then stop asking such ridiculous questions!!” Klavier snapped, his wings spreading to intimidate the taller man. 

          The gothic prosecutor’s feathers tensed up, quivering with anticipation, “I ask because…well, your wings look healthy—“

          “They aren’t. Now just drop the subject.”

          “Klavier, please,” the young prosecutor placed a hand on the rockstar’s shoulder. “Talk to me?”

          Simon tilted his head and smiled. He smiled in an innocent way that told Klavier he would, in fact, listen. His dimples were prominent on his cheeks and Klavier honestly thought the twenty-year-old was acting childish. 

          The young rockstar’s wings flapped proudly, the bright feathers spread out to catch the light in the hall, “I don’t need your sympathy for my condition, Herr Blackquill.”

          “It’s not sympathy, Klavier. I just wish to know what your condition is so I can help accommodate you,” Simon tilted his head as a clarinet dropped an octave in Klavier’s ear. 

          “Hmph. Are you going to make me say it?” Klavier folded his arms, his wings hugging his body. 

          “I don’t mean to be crass…however, if I’m to understand the situation…you can not fly?”

          Klavier knew his silence would be telling. 

          “Right…apologizes but…what exactly is the cause? I’m not sure I understand, your wings look as healthy as mine!”

          “Healthy? My wings are just clean compared to your ruffled mess.”

          Simon spread one wing and brushed his fingers through it in an attempt to straighten out the unkempt feathers before giving up, “Yes, I should be taking better care of myself. Perhaps I could learn some pointers from you?”

          The rockstar narrowed his eyes, “Herr Blackquill. You’re changing the subject.”

          Simon blushed and scratched the side of his head, “Sorry…back on topic. Could you turn around and show your wingspan?”

          He hesitated before slowly turning around and stretching out his wings as far as they could reach. The color glistened, a beautiful maroon-purple Klavier had dubbed ‘klavender’. His fingers played with his necklace nervously and he nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt a pair of hands run over his wings. 

          He flinched, tensing, but as Simon’s fingers ran between his feathers and brushed the skin under them, Klavier found himself relaxing. Apart from his slow breathing, Simon was quiet, carefully looking through the wings and picking a few feathers out to preen the young seventeen-year-old. His hands were soft, careful, and it lulled Klavier into closing his eyes. The violin that partnered with the clarinet had always been different than the one that accompanied his brother. The music he heard from his peers was something no one could know about; they would think he was crazy. The music was in his head, after all, that much was clear. He couldn’t be a prosecutor if the office thought he was crazy; he already couldn’t fly.

          Simon’s music was dark, yet upbeat. It wasn’t slow, to match his excitable personality, but the tone still matched his gothic persona. The instruments matched the strokes of Simon’s hands and the clarinet dropped out, leaving the violin with a subtle bass drum.

          “Strange…” the prosecutor muttered as his hands dropped from the wings.

          Klavier turned to him, folding his wings, “What’s strange?”

          “You have very strong muscle in your wings, your feathers are long and well-kept, the color is the furthest from dull, and the skin underneath is as healthy as can be.”

          The rockstar’s face twisted into confusion, “What’s so strange about that?”

          “Nothing,” Simon smiled with his eyes closed. “Shall you join me for lunch? It’s a beautiful day and I wish not to spend all my time in the office.”

          Klavier groaned, but it wasn’t like he had anything better to do with his time. He wasn’t officially a prosecutor yet, so he had no paperwork. Simon smiled at that and turned around, walking down the hallway of the offices. Klavier followed close behind, careful not to step on his iridescent feathers. Simon had a habit of dragging his wings behind him, which was one of many reasons why his feathers were always ruffled. Klavier knew that Simon was used to a ‘little canary’ sitting on his wings, so of course, dragging his wings for any children that wanted a ride became a habit.

          After a quick stop at Simon’s office for two bento boxes, one of which was handed to Klavier, they entered through a maintenance door and walked up the stairs to the rooftop of the prosecution’s office. A gust of wind greeted them both, licking through their short locks and sliding between their feathers.

          Klavier sighed and spread his wings slightly, feeling the nice breeze welcome his wings and engulf him in a brisk hug. He followed Simon to the edge of the rooftop and sat down on the ledge, looking down at the bento box in his hands. Simon had already opened his up to eat and Klavier knew he had packed this specifically for him. He didn’t know why Simon bothered sometimes, it wasn’t like he was hungry.

          He hesitated before opening up the box and using the chopsticks to pick at the rice, scooping some up with a portion of sliced beef. One bite became two and the pair of investigators sat in silence, eating and shooing away their hunger.

          Simon finished before him, closing up his empty box and turning to look over the city below them. Klavier glanced up at him, curious. Simon was a mystery sometimes. 

          He had been put under Simon’s wing, literally, the day his fourth and final year at Themis Legal Academy began. His role at the time was to be an assistant for one of the prosecutors in the building; most of his classmates would have been randomly assigned, but Klavier’s situation was a bit different. He was personally requested by Simon. For what reason, he will never know. 

          “The wind is strong today,” Simon’s eyes were closed as his bangs whipped back to show his forehead. 

          A weight of shame slammed into Klavier’s gut. He suddenly didn’t feel hungry anymore, closing his bento box and staring into his lap. He felt as though he was being mocked. The one thing he couldn’t do was being rubbed into his face.

          The strong air brushing past his body suddenly ceased as an iridescent black wing wrapped around him and pulled him closer to Simon. He looked up, his mentor looking at him with worry in his eyes. The violin began to slow, a soft wooden xylophone and chimes began to play. That surprised Klavier, he had never heard Simon’s music change so drastically. It was like a music box. 

          The prosecutor took the blond’s face with a hand and kissed his forehead lightly, “Tell me what troubles you.”

          Klavier looked back down again, his hands clenching around the bento box. His wings ruffled into Simon’s, getting buried in the soft mass of them. He knew he could trust Simon; he knew his secrets would never get spilled. He could talk to him without worry.

          But what would his brother say?

          “I…I’ve never been able to fly, even when I was little. I have always been weak-winged. Everyone else can fly, but I never could. It made me…envious. If I couldn’t fly, then I could at least make sure my wings were strong and healthy,” the words spilled from his mouth like they couldn’t be stopped. “It’s hard not to be envious. I don’t even know what it feels like to fly. The wind snapping past your cheeks and slipping past your feathers…I don’t know what it’s like, I…I never will.”

          “You have no memory of flying in your childhood?” his mentor pondered. 

          “No. Kristoph says that I tried once when I was extremely little. I jumped from the rooftop of our house and I dropped like a stone.”

          Simon was silent, the music in Klavier’s mind spoke for him. Simon’s silence usually meant he was thinking and the music box melody only got softer as the black-feathered wing squeezed him. Klavier glanced up, his mentor had his arms folded, his brows narrow as he thought. You could see, almost literally, the gears turning behind his eyes as they stared off across the office rooftop. The longer Simon was silent, the softer his expression became until a smile began to spread across his lips.

          “I-I can see your dimples,” Klavier’s tone was accusatory, he knew what that grin meant, especially with those features.

          The dimples on the lightly pale cheeks only grew as Simon stood, moving his wing from Klavier and turning to face him, feathers puffed with pride and his sharp molars glinting in the sun, “You said you don’t know what it’s like to fly, right?”

          “J-Ja?”

          “Do you want to know? Do you want to know what it’s like to fly?”

          “What are you, crazy!? It’s illegal to fly around this area!!”

          “I fly around here all the time and I’ve never once gotten in trouble!”

          “You sneak around like a criminal!? I thought you were a prosecutor!!” Klavier stood up, his own feathers puffed with anger.

          Simon’s happiness never left, his hands placing themselves on his hips as he leaned down to Klavier’s height, “Is it sneaking around when the flight patrol is on their break?”

          Klavier gasped, throwing a hand over his chest, and stepped backward. He forgot where he was for a moment, his legs hitting the short ledge that surrounded the rooftop. He saw Simon’s face flash in horror before he was suddenly falling through the air, plummeting to the ground as the office building rushed past him.

          His eyes were glued to the sky, to the bright blue and the dark shadow that had passed over his line of sight. A clarinet blared in his ears as his sunglasses whipped off his face and the shadow dived down like a bullet. Everything was happening too fast. His eyes prickled and his vision became blurred, so he closed his eyes before the shadow could reach him.

          He felt this before, he had done this before. It was different then. He remembered a light breeze in his face and then a shower of light purple feathers as something hard slammed into his back. He knew the feeling of falling, and he knew it would hurt for a long time.

          He thought the thump against the ground wouldn’t have been as soft. He didn’t think he would start to float up. Past the loud panicked woodwind and the frantic strings, the quickening beat of a heart reached his ears. His eyes flew open and he realized he was being held by two strong arms, close to a soft chest.

          “Are you okay?!” Simon’s voice struggled to stay calm, his eyes betraying him.

          Klavier blinked, the events clicking in his head, “You…planned that, didn’t you!?”

          “Klavier—”

          “Herr Blackquill, I never knew you to be so rotten! You picked a fight with me just so I could fall off a building to my demise!! Did you even think about what would have happened if you didn’t catch me!?”

          “Klavier, that wasn’t my plan,” he flapped his wings and turned, gliding on his back over the city. 

          “I’m sure it wasn’t! Next you’ll say your real plan was to carry me through the air, instead!”

          “Uh…well…”

          “Seriously?! After everything I’ve told you?! You know I can’t fly!! I-I don’t even know if that’s true at this point! As I was plummeting, no thanks to you, I suddenly had a memory of soaring through the air! As a child!! I don’t know where that came from, why would I get such a memory as I was falling!?”

          Simon’s grip on Klavier slowly, carefully, moved to Klavier’s shoulders. He grasped at them as he extended his arms, watching the rockstar with wide gray eyes.

          “The feathers didn’t even match my wings, what the hell am I supposed to know what it means!? You’re the therapist, you tell me!!” he shouted, the wind biting at his cheeks.

          “Relax. Take a deep breath,” Simon’s hands slowly moved down to Klavier’s arms. “Tell me what you remember.”

          “I…I was…I was flying,” Klavier closed his eyes and took a long breath. “I was flying…i-in my hometown, I…I was heading to school and…some light purple feathers showered over me…”

          Klavier opened his eyes and looked down at Simon, who slowly wrapped his fingers around his wrists, “Then what happened?”

          “…Something heavy hit my back…and I fell…it hurt…how…how did I forget that? How did that happen to me, Simon?” his voice wavered.

          “I don’t know what happened, Klavier,” his hands intertwined with the young boys, both their arms outstretched as they glided over the city. “But I do know that you trust your wings.”

          “What do you mean?”

          “The only question I have left is this: Do you trust me?”

          Klavier felt Simon squeeze his hands, their eyes locking as the sharp air of the city passed through his feathers. He trusted Simon. Simon was his mentor. Simon taught him everything he knew. Simon let him investigate. Simon didn’t treat him like a child.

          Simon Blackquill did not let him fall.

          The rockstar gulped and nodded, feeling his fingers get squeezed one last time as that dimpled smile looked up at him, “Flap your wings.”

          Simon released him, and Klavier’s body did the work for him. His wings flapped, and he rose. He looked up, past the buildings and to the horizon. He was flying. The sky was so close, he could almost touch the clouds if he really wanted to. Was the atmosphere always so blue? It was beautiful, he was almost confident enough to think it was the same shade of blue as his eyes. His wings flapped twice more and caught a breeze, adjusting and gliding over the city he had always walked through. He could barely believe it. 

          A shadow flew above him and he looked up, watching his mentor grin down with sharp teeth, full of pride. Klavier looked down at the streets, at the cars and the people, at the shops, at everything he knew. He knew that humans couldn’t rely on their wings for everything, they eventually got tired like every other part of the body. Still, Klavier couldn’t wrap his head around the idea that he could fly over the city instead of walking. He had to get a permit immediately so he could do this every day.

          His gliding body began to lose altitude and so his wings stretched, flapping, a slight pain throbbing in his muscle. He winced, realizing that without seventeen years of flying, his wings couldn’t carry him far. He needed to find a trainer as soon as possible, his manager would arrange it for him.

          “Tired?” the dark voice of the prosecutor boomed above him. “Turn on your back.”

          Klavier followed the instructions, facing Simon. The prosecutor held out his hands and scooped Klavier close as he glided down to meet him. He turned to the side, following the structure of a skyscraper as he turned a corner. His body twisted up, his wings pumping to climb into the heavens. Klavier’s eyes widened as they rose to a big white cloud, looking even fluffier and softer with how close it was. The rockstar reached outwards with a hand as they barreled through the cloud, getting covered with moisture that wasn’t ready to fall.

          Unfortunately, Simon was, and as soon as Klavier’s wonder twisted into a pout from getting wet, his wings folded and they began to plummet. Klavier squealed as he clung to Simon, staring at the ground that was rapidly coming closer. He wasn’t as scared this time, he trusted the strong feathers that carried him. He knew that Simon wouldn’t just land in the street, he would find somewhere safe to land.

          “There are certain trainers to help specifically in wing strength,” Simon’s voice whipped through the air.

          “How did you—”

          Simon laughed, showing off his fangs, “You have that look in your eye!”

          The black iridescent feathers unfurled as they dived headfirst to the ground. The strong wings flapped as Simon’s legs swung forward, like a hawk, and firmly landed on the ground in People Park. He carefully set Klavier down and then ruffled his slightly damp hair.

          “H-Herr Blackquill! You’re messing it up!!” Klavier whined and shooed the large hands away, desperately trying to fix up his image before anyone could see.

          “You did great, Klavier. You’re a natural,” Simon brushed the raven bangs away from his bright eyes.

          The rockstar paused, “You…really think so?”

          “You trust me, don’t you?”

          Klavier scoffed and folded his arms, causing Simon to smile. He placed a hand on Klavier’s back and began to lead him out of the park. The rockstar whined slightly, his klavender wings throbbed, not used to soaring over the city, but that wouldn’t stop Klavier from achieving his goal.

          He looked up at his mentor with an overconfident smirk, “Expect to see some new tricks at my next concert!”

          “Is that so?” Simon wrapped a wing around his subordinate. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”