End of July, beginning of August, was the hottest part of the year. The student apartments were the victims of the heat, as of late. The sun beat down on them relentlessly and eventually, just opening a window didn't suffice. Rae came home with a fan one day, that they set at the door and let run for hours on end. Still, some nights even the fan wasn't enough. It ended up reaching ninety seven degrees in the room as they lay there, and Rae stood from the bed and hooked her thumbs into the elastic band of her pajama shorts, sighing heavily and pulling them down before returning to bed. Tracy had laid there, stunned for a moment as she crawled back in bed in nothing more than a tank top and cotton panties; after a moment, he laughed.

It quickly became a habit for them, on the nights were the heat became unbearable fully clothed – they were comfortable with one another, and to them, what was a little innocent lack of clothes when they'd lived together for almost a year? Still, there was usually a line they both knew not to cross. Rae would forgo traditional pajamas, even without the bottoms, in favor of a cotton tank top, something light and breathable in the heat. In the same respect, Tracy also kept a top. Granted, his were usually rather heavy, and made of a dark material. Still, it provided him with enough air to not die of heat exhaustion in the middle of the night, he reassured her. Of course he told her it was just more comfortable, the same way that no matter how hot it got in the apartment, she would always keep that little bit of blanket over her legs. But he had his reasons.

Tracy came into the apartment around noon, having been at work since sic last night. Now that he was back on The Human Plane, the adrenaline rush of magic that had kept him awake was gone, and he was exhausted. Just because fairies didn't share the same sleep patterns as humans didn't mean they didn't need the same amount of sleep, outside of their magically charged environment. It must have been about ninety degreed in the room, and he groaned as he dropped down on the couch, unbuttoning his shit. Rae wasn't home – she was still in classes, and she wouldn't be home until four. He peeled the fabric from his skin, a difficult task because of the sweat saturated into the shirt. He didn't understand: Arizona was hotter than any place in Fairy Land, and his home had twice as many suns! He groaned into a pillow, laying on his stomach and closing his eyes. He'd take a quick nap and wake up before Rae got home, make dinner…

He exhaled deeply, slipping into unconsciousness.

The door opened and Rae walked in, setting her rucksack near the door and the large paper bag of Chinese food on the counter. She smiles, spying Tracy passed out on the couch. She'd called him earlier, to no answer, and now she understood. Poor thing. She knelt by his side, kneading the base of her palm into his shoulder. "Trace," she whispered as he stirred. Something caught her eye, a line of fluff on his back. She looked over, seeing a line of soft cream-colored downy fluff running from the inner top of each shoulder blade to the base of his spine, by the small of his back. She ran her finger curiously over it, smoothing it down and watching as it sprang back to attention the moment her fingers passed it.

He mumbled a protest as he woke up. The moment he came to his senses, his eyes flew open as he realized that Rae was home, that not only did he have his shirt off, but she was there, she was running her hands over his back, stroking the fluff on his back, actively acknowledging it, and he cried out, swinging his arm back and swatting her away before he sat up, grabbing his shirt from the floor and hastily redressing himself, knees pressed together and cheeks turning a feverish pink.

Rae was startled, sitting back and waiting for him to come to a rest. "M'sorry, just... I – don't." he stuttered. "Please, don't."

She stared blankly at him, unsure of what had just happened. He was all but begging her, wide-eyed and jittery, and so obviously uncomfortable. "Yeah." She said, softly. "Yeah, okay. I… I brought dinner. Hungry?"

He was, actually, and despite his discomfort, he took a carton of lo mien, sitting with her and eating.

Rae watched him carefully as they ate, eyes turned down and the pink tinge never leaving his cheeks; she tried talking to him, but he didn't seem too interested in conversation, only offering the occasional 'yes' or 'no' and the appropriately timed grunt that told her he was listening. She knew better – she knew him. He wasn't listening. His ability to make noncommittal responses at the perfect time had been perfected over his decades of being a caseworker fairy, of having to endure the concerns and complaints of his charges. "Tracy," she said, not breaking her speech patters. He didn't look up, and she frowned, taking the carton from his hands and calling his name again. This time, he looked up, unsure of what she was doing and suddenly regretting that he hadn't been paying attention.

"Wot?"

She just looked at him for a moment, turned and set both of their cartons aside. "What was that?" she asked. "I have never seen you freak out like that, not with me. Do you want to explain?"

She knew that he didn't want to explain, he thought dismally, but she was going to make him, he was sure. He sighed and wiped absently at his face. "I just… it's personal, isn't it?" he asked. "I mean, I don't go around pawing at your body when you sleep, do I?" he snapped, looking away. He felt her hand on his knee, and he immediately felt bad for his feigned temper. Of course he wasn't angry with her. But any excuse, any wat all, was a better option than explaining about the downy feather on his back. His hand covered hers. "I… well, I'm a wingless fairy. I never grew wings and… see, we didn't know I was going to be wingless until I was 'bout ten because all fairies have… this." He gestured to his back. "We all grow down, but not necessarily… wings." He said, gently. "The uhm… the down. It's the color the wings would have been. It…it is what would have been." Rae could hear the change in his tone, from anger to resignation to remorse. "I just don't… like it. M'sorry, honeybee. I didn't mean to…" he stopped.

Rae was familiar with body insecurity. How many people in the world were uncomfortable about how part of their body looked, or how it functioned? It wasn't an uncommon phenomena, among humans, at lease. She wasn't sure how common this type of insecurity was among fairies but, when you think about it, that didn't truly matter. What mattered was that he was uncomfortable with it. She nodded, telling him that she understood, and he gave her hand a quick squeeze.

When they finished dinner, it was quick cleanup – tossing the empty carton in the waste bin and placing their cups in the dishwasher. Rae's mind had been reeling through the rest of the meal, while Tracy's thought calmed.

Blue-orange light streamed into the bedroom as she led him in by the hand, closing the door behind her and standing chest-to-chest with him – or at least as close as they could get to chest-to-chest, what with the foot or so height difference between them. He ducked his head as she placed both her hands on either side of his face and kissed him full on the mouth, her lips curved into a smile.

He pulled her backwards, onto the bed and she followed, never breaking the kiss. They often spent the nights like this, comfortable in each other's company. But now, tonight, she had other plans. They lay together, nose to nose and foreheads pressed together and she told him how much she loved him. She told him that she loved everything about him, that she just wanted him to be happy. The hour passed and she could see that the pink tinge had left his cheeks, and she lifted her chin, bringing her mouth to his and she could feel him kiss her back, moving against her lips, his arms around her – one at the small of her back and the other entwined in her hair, at the base of her skull. She ran her hands over his chest, groping for his collar.

She was grateful for his attire – not only because of how dapper he looked in his work suit or even the simple button-up he wore now, but because, otherwise, removing his shirt would have been almost impossible. Her fingers fumbled at the first button. He made a choked noise of surprise as he moved his hands to hers, pushing her away and pulling back, breaking the kiss. "What're you…?" he looked down and saw the mild look of shock on her face, which softened immediately. Her fingers brushed his neck. "Trust me?" she cooed. He looked down at her, expression mightily confused, but he didn't resist when she pulled him back down, resuming her work on his collar. She could feel his nervousness in the kiss, pushing harder against her mouth, his breath hitching and hiccupping so close to her. With each button she undid, his hands itched to grab hers, to keep her still but she wanted him to trust her. She wanted him to let her do whatever she was doing to him. When the last button at his belt was undone, she had him shed the white collar shirt for the second time that day. He shivered against her, uncomfortable with his back bared, when she moved her hands back to his face, hesitating for a moment before pulling back.

She smiled at him, pushing herself further up the mound of pillows at the top of the bed, so that her shoulders were above his, sitting further up, pulling him towards her so that he way laying with his cheek against the cushion of her bust. It wasn't unlike the way she would lie against him in the night, comfortable and close as he rubbed a hand against her back, much like she was doing now, to him. He gave a groan when he felt her fingers on him. "Rae, please, I don't want-" He started but she merely hushed him, moving her hand up to rub at his shoulder and tracing her fingers along his spine, feeling each separation of bone before she came to a stop at the small of his back, where the down came to a point, tracing the tiny feathers back to the top of his shoulder blades to begin the cycle over again. He wrapped his arms around her stomach and held her.

"Trace," she whispered, resting her chin against the top of his head. "I love you. All of you, and I don't ever, ever want you to feel like you have to… hide anything." She said, kissing the crown of his head, still running her fingers over the smooth skin of his back. "You told me you were a fairy and I still loved you. I always will. This?" she said, flattening her palm on his back, letting him know that she meant not only his wing-down, but his insecurity as well, his unwillingness to be completely open with her because of the way his society was built. She was concerned for him, she always was, because she'd seen him at his worst, the bitter, rainy night he spent venting to a stranger in a church, miserable and willing to remain in a foreign realm just to avoid humiliation and ridicule. She'd seen what prejudice and insecurity did to him, and she never wanted that for him. She certainly didn't want him to have to feel that way around her.

The man shifted, pulling his knees up beneath hers, and his muscles relaxed. He focused on the feeling of her fingers instead of the thought of what she was doing; it was less troubling that way, and through this new frame of mind, he found she rather enjoyed it. There was a tactile difference between his bare skin and the more sensitive down feathers lining his spine. He hummed in a gentle approval, pressing the crest of his cheek against her collarbone.

As he lay against her, their breathing evened out, comfortable against one another and beginning to fall asleep for the night, he found that, in all honesty, the night could have been worse.

In fact, it had been pretty good.