The touch of Tony’s hand was soothing and Warren’s wings calmed some. Warren took a couple of deep, slow breaths and when he spoke, his voice was steadier. “You first. I can’t talk about him now. But I will, later.”
Warren let Tony lead him to the sofa then slouched into it sideways, wings draped off to one side. Tony’s welcome-home kiss was as sweet and soft as it always was, but Warren never really felt home again until he was wrapped up in Tony. So he kissed Tony again, harder, more tongue and Warren’s hands open on the sides of Tony’s face, his thumbs stroking lightly over the beard on Tony’s chin.
He pressed Tony back and down with his mouth and hands until Tony was lying on his back on the sofa. Then Warren he lowered himself onto Tony’s chest, happy to feel the shape of the chest plate under Tony’s shirt settling into its customary place among the hollows of Warren’s collarbones. He stretched his legs alongside Tony’s and nuzzled his face into the curve of Tony’s neck. When Tony’s arms came around Warren’s back, he spread his wings wide over and around them, breathed in deeply and felt the beginnings of home.