3. Piper
3
PIPER
He shifts on his feet, his wings whisper across each other, and all of my self-confidence melts like butter under Tatooine's twin suns.
Crap. What is next? I don’t know how to do this. Take a guy home the same night that I meet him. I don’t know anything about him. I’m not even sure what his real name is. When my girlfriends were here, I was so certain about what I wanted, now all I’m certain about is that I am a complete idiot.
He closes the distance between us.
“Piper?” He says my name quietly, like I’m an animal that might run. “Would you like to come home with me?”
“Now?” I squeak as the nachos in my stomach churn violently.
Crap. He’s going to think I’m some idiot who can’t do casual sex.
“Not if you don’t want to.” The Mothman’s antennae raise a few important inches. He’s absolutely adorable. The velvet of his fur shimmers in the streetlight. He reaches up to brush a strand of my hair out of my face, his fingers grazing the shell of my ear. I can’t help tensing up.
What is wrong with me? This is good! I like this guy! I want to fuck him! I want to go home with him and let him do things to me. I want to?—
His hand drops to his side.
Crap. I am ruining it.
“I do want to!” I clarify. “It’s just, you know, meeting a stranger in a bar. Going home with someone I barely know, letting him do whatever wild thing he has in mind.”
“What do you think I have in mind?” he muses.
I can't help grinning. I cover my mouth and shake my head, not willing to answer that open-ended question.
"You don't need to hide." His hand catches my chin, pulling my face up to look at him. “Your smile is beautiful. It lights up your whole face. I’d smile all the time if it made me half that beautiful.”
Crap. That’s sweet.
“You have a great smile,” I protest. His antennae curve toward me.
“I could just walk you home?” he suggests. “We could call it an early night?”
"No!" I bite my tongue at the end of the word. I have to do this now. Tonight. I can’t throw away this opportunity. This will be good for me. I can’t imagine finding another person I’d feel comfortable doing this with so quickly. “Maybe we could go somewhere else for a while? It’s still kind of early, right?”
“It’s early for a Mothman, certainly.”
“It’s not even midnight yet. With my insomnia, I’ll be up for another three hours regardless.” I continue sheepishly. “There’s still time to catch the showing of Chopping Mall at the Artemis Theater.” I wince, it's a stupid suggestion.
“You want to go to a movie?”
“It’s a special midnight showing. I mean, I’ve seen it before. Several times. Never in the theater, though. Have you? It’s great, an absolute classic. And the Artemis isn’t too far from here.” I scrunch my nose. “If we walk over now, we’ll only miss the first ten minutes or so.”
“Or, I could fly us,” he suggests tentatively.
“What? Seriously?” I ask with a loud laugh.
As an answer, his wings swoop out wide. Street detritus skitters away from him, and with a few powerful flaps, he is three feet off the ground.
It’s awesome.
“Crap, you can like, really, fly,” I murmur. Why is that hot?
“I could carry you.”
“Really?” I bark out another loud excited laugh, and then choke it down. That’s not sexy. I’m trying to be sexy tonight, not come off like a braying donkey.
The gust of wind tugs at my hair. I adjust my glasses so I can take him in. His wings are wide and dark, but they look so very soft. With a faint but intricate design that shimmers iridescent in the streetlight. He’s absolutely beautiful.
“If you trust me.” His toes lightly touch the ground as he returns to earth.
Trust a near stranger for the opportunity to fly? It’s a little dangerous, for sure. But I’m already planning to fuck him. Is this more dangerous than that? Maybe. Probably.
“Have you carried anyone before?”
“A couple.”
“How many did you drop?”
“None I didn’t intend to drop.”
I laugh again, loudly, before I manage to quiet myself. Colin used to tell me my laugh was too loud. Ant just smiles. “You wouldn’t intentionally drop me, would you?”
“Not you. Never.” His wings flutter around his shoulders, the movement is fascinating.
“Can I feel them?” I can’t stop grinning. “Sorry if that was rude, you can say no. It’s just, I’ve never seen anything like them.”
“You really like them?” The hesitancy in his voice tugs at my chest.
I nod enthusiastically. “You’re beautiful.” My face feels very warm when I recognize my slip-up. “They are beautiful.”
He shakes his head. "You are the one who is beautiful, Piper." He tucks a loose curl behind my ear. "Like a moth to a flame."
He turns quickly. For a brief moment, I worry I’ve offended him somehow, before his wings spread wide again. They fold neatly across his back, draping to ankle length when they are closed, and when he spreads them fully, he is easily wider than he is tall. A wingspan of at least seven or eight feet. There are four individual wings, a top pair with ragged edges, and a bottom that are a little rounder. They are nearly translucent, his silhouette visible through them. Swirling in dark browns and grays and black. Between the wings, along his spine, is a thick patch of dark hair, similar to the scarf that grows around his neck.
“You can touch them, if you like.” His voice is very soft.
I raise a hand up to the wing, pausing just before my hand reaches him. “I won’t hurt you, will I?”
“I trust you,” he says.
I’m not sure I trust myself. I lower my open nervous palm to brush along his top wing. He twitches under my touch and then sighs and presses slightly harder into my hand. It’s soft, but taunt, like touching an open umbrella covered in a fine silt of fuzz.
Sliding my hand across him I finally reach the fur between his wings and run my fingers down through the hair there.
He shudders under my touch and pulls away, turning and grabbing my hand before I can move.
“Sorry, too much?” I ask.
“No, you are wonderful. The center area is…sensitive,” he says calmly. His hands circle mine, large enough to cover them completely, warm and gentle. I stare at our intertwined fingers for a long breath.
“The movies, then?” I ask, finally looking at his face.
His antennas perk up. His mouth arms lift. “May I?” He stretches his arms wide.
I give him an enthusiastic nod, then hesitate, not exactly sure what to do. He moves quickly, easily scooping me up like I weigh nothing at all. One arm beneath my knees, keeping my skirt in a modest position, one arm behind my shoulders in a bridal carry. It’s almost like having my own personal superhero.
“Ready?” His breath is so close that it tickles my hair.
“Don’t go too high.” Fear and excitement spike through my veins.
“I’ve got you, my flame,” he says so softly, I think I may have misunderstood him.
He crouches just a little before leaping in the air. There’s one terrifying moment of free fall, and then his wings catch the air, and we are fucking flying.
I squeal. I don’t care if I am twenty-nine. This is fucking exciting! Who gets to do things like this? Who has a hot sexy stranger literally carrying them through the air? It’s exhilarating.
We aren’t terribly high. He levels out above the three-story buildings, being mindful of wires and telephone poles. Ant cuts easily through the blocks, halving our travel time. With the wind in my hair and Ant's strong arms carrying me, I’m almost sad that it's going to be over quickly.
He’s shockingly strong, the muscles corded in his biceps are like steel holding me firmly against his chest. My arms circle his neck instinctively, digging my fingers into the fur there. From this angle I can examine his face closely, his intense expression as he focuses on the path before us. He’s covered in that sweet vanilla scent. I'm completely at his mercy. He could do anything to me right now, take me anywhere.
I wish that idea didn’t turn me on quite so much.
I chew on my lip and press myself a little tighter against him, my body flooded with adrenaline and endorphins. He lands on the roof of the Artemis Theatre and sets me on my feet. I do an impromptu spin, my skirt twirling around my ankles. I’m practically buzzing with energy. We flew. I flew! It was exactly like every dream I’ve ever had of the experience.
“That was fantastic!” I adjust my glasses, cackling loudly, too excited to care if I am being over-the-top. “That was so cool! You’re amazing, Ant! You can go anywhere? Any time you want? I have so many questions!”
He’s smiling, but seems almost bashful.
“Sorry. Too much. I know.” I roll my eyes and take a step back, but Ant catches me by the waist, stopping my retreat.
“No. Don’t apologize,” he says definitively. “I like seeing you happy.”
His tone and touch are simultaneously sobering and exciting. I’m being appreciated, not scolded, for over-the-top behavior. It’s so simple. I hadn’t realized my expectations were set so low.
“If you have questions, I will answer as many as you can ask.” He’s staring at me with such intensity that, for a moment, I think he’s going to kiss me. I want him to kiss me. I pull my limbs tighter to my body so I can get a little closer to him.
“Are there rules? Can you go wherever you want?” I’m a lot quieter this time, and gosh, he is very cute. How do I get him to kiss me? Just ask, or what?
“We do have a few rules in the community. Going much higher than we flew is frowned on, slower speeds at lower altitudes, avoid private airspace...” His voice trails off, but my curiosity doesn't.
“Do you do that sort of thing a lot?”
He nods. “It’s hard to find modes of transportation with enough room for my wings to fit comfortably. You can’t fit wings in airplane seats.”
I sigh. “I would fly everywhere, all of the time, if I had the option.”
“I’ll fly you anywhere you want to go.” His hands tighten slightly around my waist. It’s sweet, and kind, and way too much for me right now. This kind of foreplay makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.
I’m going to get attached to him if I’m not careful. That’s such a bad idea, I know I’m not going to see him after I fuck him.
I pull away so I can peek over the edge of the building. “The only other question I have right now is how do we get down?”
Ant waves me toward an unmarked door, leading me down a set of stairs and into a dark narrow hallway above the theater.
“We can’t just sneak in!” I say in a hushed whisper.
“It’s fine.” His long warm fingers slip between mine and I let myself be pulled into the building.
I whisper to Ant. “It’s fine? What do you mean it’s fine?”
“I promise.” His grin, even with his inhuman features, feels mischievous.
We pass a theater employee, a reptilian male, pushing a mop and bucket. My heart leaps into my throat that we might be caught sneaking in, but he just nods at Ant.
“Evening, Ant,” the lizardman says, “Ma’am.” He tilts his head in my direction as well.
“Evening,” I mumble hurriedly to the reptilian. “Who are you?” I hiss at Ant as soon as we’re alone again.
“Nothing you can Google, remember?” he replies, somewhat mysteriously. And, oh no, I think that is sexy too.
We step through another door into the dark open balcony of the movie theater. I’ve always known it existed and I always wondered what was up here.
It’s an old building, converted years ago from a more traditional stage, back when they still built balconies for theaters. The ceiling is painted like a night sky, twinkle lights installed for stars. Every time I've been to an event here the balcony has been cordoned off, and now I see why.
There are rows of seating up here, but a lot of them have been removed or modified. The balcony is half full of figures. Even in the dim light, I can tell they are mostly cryptids. A pair of Bigfoots share an enormous bucket of popcorn sitting on a couch that would swallow a human-sized person. In another pair of seats, a chupacabra hangs upside down from the ceiling, while her human date occasionally tosses her M&Ms. Other odd shapes occupy the darkness, their silhouettes aren't clear enough to discern their species.
I peek over the railing at the crowd below us. An almost entirely human crowd fills all of the available seats.
“Is this…special Cryptid seating?” I ask. That would explain why I've never been up here.
Ant tugs me over to an odd-looking padded bench, when he folds himself into the chair I see that careful holes have been cut into the back to accommodate a pair of wings. “Some of us require different seating than humans do. They're available here.”
“That’s great!” I whisper as I slip onto the bench next to him. “Wait, we aren’t just going to watch without paying for tickets, are we?”
His antennae twist in opposite directions. He seems to be trying to decide something as the previews start.
“Wait here,” he says. “I’ll get us tickets.”
“Alright,” I answer tentatively, as Ant disappears toward the lobby.
I settle into my chair, pull out my phone, and fire off a quick text to my friends about the situation. Kelly said she wanted updates, so I send the group my location.
Kell Bell: So excited for you! Have fun sweetie!
DamnAnam: luuuuuvvvvvv!!!!
I'm smirking at the messages when Ant settles back down beside me, just as the titular mall appears on screen, with its teenaged cast ready to be chopped.
He passes me a large bucket of popcorn and a box of Swedish Fish.
“Oh my goodness, these are my favorite!” I whisper, clutching the candy to my chest. “Are these for me?”
“Of course,” he says, pulling out a pair of earplugs which he slides into the sides of his head.
"Everything okay?" I ask.
"I just have sensitive ears," he explains quietly. "Movies can be a little loud."
"Oh! We don’t have to stay!"
"It’s okay," he says firmly, but he smiles. "I want to enjoy this with you."
"Alright, if you're sure." I pop the box of candy open and curl into the seat beside him, ready to watch some robots explode people’s heads.
There’s no armrest between our seats and it’s easy to take advantage of that, letting myself lean a little closer to him. His knuckles graze against mine on the bench between us.
I glance at Ant’s face to check his expression. His features are so strange. It can be hard to tell if he's nervous, irritated, or happy. It’s kind of nice not being sure. Colin never wanted to hold hands in public. He wasn’t a fan of PDA. He preferred to stay home, and he preferred it when I stayed in with him. Far to many nights I let him talk me into sitting on the couch instead of going to the event I wanted to attend.
It’s easy to project those same expectations onto Ant. But fuck it. I barely know this guy. What do I care if he doesn’t have ‘physical touch’ listed as a love language? I know what I want.
I slip my fingers into Ant’s, and turn back to the screen. His hand shifts in mine slightly, my heart pounds loudly in my chest, waiting for him to pull away, but he just gently squeezes my hand.
The simple action has my heart skipping a beat. Crap. Am I this desperate for someone to show me this casual affection?
Who cares? I adjust the box of candy between my knees and inch toward him.
Ant’s hand leaves my grasp.
I’m too eager, yet again.
And then, his arm lifts behind me, curls around my shoulder and tucks me against him. The heat of his arm sinks into my body. Warm and cozy and comfortable. I smirk in the dark at my success.