Learning How to Fly

 

 

 

LEARNING HOW TO FLY

G.M. RADER

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

© 2019 G.M. Rader

 

Originally published in HEAT Vol. 16 (2019) from Sofawolf Press

 

1

 

Chris paused on the ladder and looked up at the curly husky tail swaying impatiently above him while a third person, an otter, ascended to the ledge at the top. A soft gust of wind ruffled his wings, hanging loose as he held his arms in close to his sides, and although it felt nice, it was just another reminder of the upcoming jump, and everything riding on it. His grip on the ladder tightened as trepidation swelled.

He took a deep breath and forced his fingers to relax, one by one, then his toes, chiding himself. What kind of self-respecting bat is nervous hanging upright on a ladder not two meters off the ground? Eddie, the husky above him, scrambled the rest of the way up the ladder and onto the ledge, then peeked back down, ears upright. Chris started up again, grabbing the rungs embedded in the rock face to pull himself up. Eddie wagged, crouching beside him. The otter climbing up ahead of them was already gone. Chris hadn’t even heard the splash.

The bat shook off his nerves and stood up, Eddie following suit. “You wanna go first, or me?” the husky asked. They both looked over the edge to the water some ten meters below, where the otter was already swimming expertly back to the lower ledge to make the climb again. Ripples spread out over the surface of the swimming area, a small cove surrounded on two sides by rock faces and a low ledge on a third where others lounged on chairs and beach towels. It looked artificially constructed, but then what else could you expect at a desert resort?

“You go,” Chris said. “I need a second to catch my breath.” He shook his arms, loose patagium rustling softly between his wrists, ribs, and hips. Eddie nodded and stepped forward with barely a pause and leapt from the ledge with dramatic flair, arcing gracefully in a perfect dive. Chris had to admire the sled dog’s form. Especially that first instant after the leap, just tipping down into the dive, arms stretched out in front of him… No mistake, the husky was athletically handsome.

Eddie surfaced and shook the water out of his ears before looking up. He gave a thumbs-up and grinned, treading water. Chris waved back down and put the thought of everyone watching out of his mind. During three days of swimming every afternoon after classes for the upcoming “Wingsuit Skydiving Adventure!” he had learned it really wasn’t the jump or fall that made him nervous. No, it was more the landing at the end, and usually in a decidedly less graceful fashion than his boyfriend. Everyone else had learned, too, and the spectacle seemed to amuse them. It certainly attracted more attention than he liked, but he had to try.

The sound of someone climbing up onto the ledge behind him brought his attention back to the present. The same otter who had gone just before Eddie stood up, nodding politely and patiently waiting her turn. At least she was nice enough to pretend she wasn’t watching.

Chris nodded back and turned to the ledge. Gotta take the plunge. He expected proposing to his boyfriend would be more nerve-wracking than the ten-meter dive to the deeply dredged lake below, but hopefully with better results. Hopefully, he would get it on the first try. And besides, this skydiving trip was Eddie’s prize for his team’s winning the regional cross-country sled racing championship. He didn’t want to spoil the husky’s fun. He had to make it work.

He muttered, then took a deep breath. Then hesitated, wobbling right at the edge, until he overbalanced and hastily pushed off, trying to turn it into a jump and grimacing as he plunged toward the water.

He clenched his jaw and cringed. Another disastrous half-leap, like the one before last. He’d started classifying them in his mind. He hoped for one of the almost-clean follow-throughs he’d managed a handful of times, but felt himself starting to tumble. He jerked his arms out straight, holding his wings taut and straightening his legs, pointing his feet…

And then he felt the wind catch and fill his wings, his body growing heavy as his trajectory—flight path!—levelled out, and he started to glide further out over the surface of the water. He heard Eddie whoop and cheer him on, and a surge of elation shot from his feet to his ears. He lifted his wrists and pushed them forward, catching the wind at a steeper angle and watching the water recede beneath him, slowing gradually as he actually started to climb again. It works! I’m flying!

He looked over his shoulder, searching for Eddie; but turning his head shifted his weight and his shoulders became uneven, arms turned a little the wrong way, though in his excitement he didn’t notice. His left wrist angled too steeply into the wind, turning him and snapping his left side up, twisting his shoulder painfully in the process. He winced, pulling his arm in, and abruptly dropped to the left, spinning into a nosedive. He watched the water rush up at him, feeling suddenly blank, and flinched just before hitting the surface. He barely remembered to jerk both arms in and tuck them against his sides before breaking the surface at an angle.

The water swallowed him whole in one gulp, knocking the wind out of him as it slowed him to a stop some distance under the surface. He squeezed his eyes shut, water rushing noisily into his ears and leaving only the muted sounds of bubbles around him and the distant splashing of the other swimmers. Water began seeping in through his nostrils with no air left to keep it out, and after a moment, feeling weightless in the water, panic started to take hold in the pit of his stomach. The surface, where is the surface…?

When he felt like he couldn’t hold his lungs empty a moment longer, the water broke around him and he sucked a breath through his muzzle, choking on the water draining from his sinuses into the back of his throat. He bobbed in the water once, then again, clawing at the surface, fighting the surging panic. He wasn’t a great swimmer, he knew, but he was not going to drown if he could just keep calm and collect himself.

Arms slipped around him from behind, pulled him close, and tipped him back. Eddie’s voice, still muffled by the water in his ears, said, “You’re fine, I’ve got you.” The embrace was secure, calming, and he wasn’t sinking anymore. He drew another breath with a little less coughing, shook the water from his ears, and wiped one eye with the heel of his hand. His left arm hurt to move, throbbing dully from the twist even with his elbow tucked and his wrist pulled in against his chest.

“You okay?” Eddie sounded concerned, but loosened his hold.

The bat nodded, starting to tread water. “Yeah, just got the wind knocked out of me when I hit the water.”

Eddie gently let him go and moved beside him in the water, grinning broadly. He was wagging his tail, too; Chris could tell by the way the dog’s body moved, shoulders shifting side to side just below the surface.

“Dude, you flew! That was awesome!”

“I wiped out and almost downed again,” Chris muttered, flicking water out of his ears. But it was true. That was the longest he’d ever been airborne, and he had even managed to maneuver a little. It wasn’t until he got excited that it had all fallen apart. He rubbed his injured shoulder with the other hand. “Twisted my shoulder, too.”

Eddie swiveled his ears forward, expression turning serious. “You okay? Can you swim it back to the ledge?” He swam in closer and started to slip an arm around the bat.

Chris flicked his ears back again and shook him off. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.” He saw Eddie’s ear tip back and his head lower, and immediately felt guilty for snapping. He glanced toward the onlookers on shore. “Just kind of sore right now. It’ll be fine. Better take it easy for a few minutes.”

He looked at the sled dog beside him, the dog’s ears still drooping. “It was pretty cool, though. I got this.” He forced a grin, as much to reassure himself as his partner, and began swimming, if a bit gingerly, back to the lower ledge at the edge of the cove, kicking with his feet to favor his shoulder. Eddie slipped a shoulder under his good arm, helping him swim. The bat relaxed a little with the support. That was Eddie.

2

 

Hand in hand, Eddie and Chris left the classroom and stepped out onto the Overlook—a wide cliffside promenade with a panoramic view of the flats, where the airstrip and skydiving landing zones were located. Further off in the distance, the fading sunset outlined rugged mountains.

“That was it,” Eddie said. “No more classes! Just the preflight tomorrow!” He smiled down at Chris. “How’re you feeling?”

Chris tilted his head to the side, resting his cheek against Eddie’s shoulder. “Pretty good, I guess.” He paused, deciding that didn’t sound as positive as he felt, which really was pretty good. “Shoulder’s feeling better. I’m ready.” He turned his muzzle up and smiled. “That video was pretty cool. Right up to the edge of the atmosphere… You could see forever!”

Eddie wagged his tail. “And did you see the way they did that spinning thing around the guy in the middle?”

Chris smiled a little wider. “Yeah. The bat. I don’t think we should try anything that complicated on our first flight.” It was an impressive feat of aerobatics, though. Everyone was flying in the same direction, but managing their lift and speed so that the four wingsuiters revolved in a slow circle around one in the middle, who was also a bat. That fact made Chris feel warmer inside when he thought about the jump. If that bat could do it, then surely he could manage a beginner flight.

“I don’t think the… what’d they call it?” Eddie furrowed his brow and swiveled one ear back. “Not autopilot…”

“Augmentation.” Chris had studied up on it. The Wingsuit Flight Augmentation System monitored the flight and helped newcomers by tightening fibers embedded through the suits to keep them stable in flight and help coordinate basic maneuvers. It put tension on their limbs in various directions to let them know how to move, and to physically “assist” movement if they didn’t respond quickly enough. Failing that, it would also automatically deploy the parachute in an emergency. It was the only reason Chris was remotely comfortable with this idea, and based on their experience in the vertical wind tunnel, it seemed to work pretty well.

“Yeah. I don’t think the augmentation thing would let you do that kind of maneuver. It’s not even supposed to let us get too close to each other.”

“Right.” Chris nodded and stood up straight, looking up. “Look, there they are!” He pointed upward; a string of lights high above them was coming on, and there was a flash of silver as the aircraft they were jumping out of circled, apparently high enough that the sunlight could still catch it, even though it was well below the mountains now.

Eddie’s tail started wagging again as they watched. “See, look! It’s not so dark that you can’t see anything.”

“Yeah.” Chris glanced down at the flats, rapidly darkening in the twilight. “I still think it’s silly not to jump during full light. But the sunset will probably look pretty cool.” He had to admit that much.

“That skydiving trip I went on back when we were in high school was in the afternoon. It was pretty cool too. Too bad the camera quit working before we jumped.”

Chris nodded. “Yeah. You looked like you were having a lot of fun in the before and after pictures, though.” He remembered the trip, and he could have gone on it; but that was before he really knew Eddie, and he’d had other things on his mind at the time like where to go to college. It wasn’t until after he graduated and came home that they had met again and gotten together, and Eddie’s influence was making him gradually more and more adventurous.

Back then, he wouldn’t have ever expected to fall for an athlete; but here he was, and they were going on an adventure together. If everything went right, they could have adventures for the rest of their lives… together. He looked up at Eddie and smiled, while the dog watched the descending skydivers, attention wholly focused.

Chris looked up at them, too. None of them had opened their parachutes yet—they were still far overhead. But they weren’t lit by the sun anymore, and they were hard to see in between the brilliant flashes of the lights attached to them.

All at once, their parachutes opened and the lights stopped flashing, instead illuminating the canopies from beneath in blazing color. One thing the resort did well was make their jumps impressive for the spectators on the ground, too.

“Wow, that is pretty cool,” Chris murmured. A moment later, lights out on the flats turned on, marking the landing zone with a strobing line of lights showing the wind direction. The skydivers circled and staggered themselves to come in one at a time along the strobing line, concentric circles of lights following each one into the center. Most of them made it, only a few touched down in the outer rings.

Eddie stepped behind Chris and wrapped a hug around his chest and arms. “You sure you want to do this?” he asked. “We could do something else. Like just regular skydiving. That was pretty fun, too.”

Chris looked up, turning his eyes up so he could meet Eddie’s head-tilted gaze. He smiled. “Yeah. I want to. I can’t go out on the trail with you when you’re racing. Hiking and camping are nice, but I want to go on a real adventure with you. Lots of them.” He paused, swallowed. “Y’know, forever.”

Eddie licked the bat’s nose. “I like the sound of that. But I like the sound of sitting on the couch with you, too.”

“Sitting on the couch doesn’t have any sounds that goes with it.”

“Sometimes it does…” Eddie grinned and wagged his tail.

Chris laughed, feeling his ears warm. “Yeah, well.” He couldn’t think of anything to say after that. “You wanna go back to the room?”

Eddie grinned wider. “I thought you’d never ask.” Still hugging Chris, he turned toward the hotel entrance across the Overlook and duckwalked with him a few steps before letting him go and taking his hand again. “I mean, we do need to get to bed pretty soon. Big day tomorrow. Gotta rest up.”

Chris grinned and shook his head. “Rest, right.” Of course it was going to be a big day. Their biggest day yet. Assuming everything goes right and I don’t… crash. The thought made his shoulder twinge again. But realistically, that couldn’t happen. The parachute would deploy, if worse came to worst, and he’d be fine. And that still technically counts as making the jump! That thought boosted his confidence a little more, and he squeezed Eddie’s hand. This is going to be all right. We’re gonna do this, together, and I’m going to ask him, and it’s going to be one of the best memories of our lives. Together.

He reached out to playfully swat at the husky’s tailtip. His shoulder twinged, but only a little, and he followed the dog in, lifting his arms and letting the night breeze catch his wings through the open door behind them.

3

 

They picked up sandwiches for dinner on the way back to the hotel room. Both were in high spirits, typical for the irrepressible husky; but Chris’s improved mood surprised him. The videos were intended to sell them on the jump and keep excitement high, and he had seen them all before except for the final one, the suborbital. Along with the bat had been a husky, and it seemed like an especially good omen.

He glanced over his shoulder at his own husky as they came into the room and Eddie shut the door. He stopped still and Eddie slipped up behind him, wrapping him in a warm embrace, wings and all. Chris rested both his hands on the husky’s arms, leaning back against the heavier dog, comfortable and thinking about the pair in the film.

“You feeling better now?” Eddie asked, nosing the back of one of Chris’s big bat ears. “You seemed a little down earlier. Sometimes earlier this week, too.”

Chris turned to face him, wings laying along Eddie’s sides, hands on the dog’s chest. He smiled. “Yeah. I’m feeling pretty good. I’ve just been a little nervous.”

Eddie perked his ears. “About the wingsuiting? How come?”

Chris glanced away. Because I can’t fly. He thought. And not just that… He looked over at his suitcase by the dresser in the room, where the ring he’d bought and smuggled along lay hidden. He just nodded, before meeting the husky’s eyes again.

Eddie smiled and tucked his muzzle under the bat’s. “You’re gonna do fine. You got this.” He wagged and hugged the bat closer, then waggled his eyebrows, looking sly. “Maybe I can get you a little more excited…” He bumped his hips forward, grinding against the bat’s, sheath already firming in his pants.

Chris laughed and rubbed the dog’s chest through his shirt. “Well, how could I not be, with such a handsome, Championship-winning sled-puller sweeping me off on an exotic adventure?”

Eddie grinned and wagged, grinding his hips forward again, hugging the bat tighter. He backed him up to the bed. “Well, let’s see…” He let the bat go, giving him a playful push down onto the bed. Chris spread his arms and wings wide, then laid one wing over his face and affected a woebegone sigh while Eddie pulled off his shirt. “I dunno, I might be too worn out…”

Eddie didn’t answer. Chris felt him unfasten his pants, slide the zipper down, and tug them off. Then he sighed again, more softly, as the husky took hold of his sheath and teased him with a slow, gentle stroke. “Mmmmm… then again, maybe not.”

“I sure hope not,” Eddie murmured. He settled down to his knees, nuzzled up between Chris’s legs, and Chris spread them wider still, squirming at the tickle of whiskers against short fur. He lifted his wing to peek down, and found his lover’s blue eyes already watching him, just as the warmth of his nose touched his balls. He shivered, feeling a lick lifting them, then gliding up over the front as they fell, sac tightening up, then along his firming flesh right up to the point. Eddie perked his ears, paused, and slipped his lips around the bat’s tip, with another hidden, swirling lick, then pressed lower. He groaned, stiffening quickly as the husky wrapped his cock in warmth. “I love it when you do that…”

Eddie wagged and bobbed back up slowly, then down again, stroking the bare flesh between the bat’s sheath and his own lips, still watching. Chris reached down to stroke over the husky’s cheek, then laid his wing overhead. “You’re gonna give me stage fright!” he teased. Eddie’s retort was to focus on just his tip and stroke faster.

Chris laid his other wing over his face again and panted; Eddie always knew what buttons to push. What to ask for, what to give, and when to tease.

The bat huffed when Eddie’s lips slipped up off of his shaft with an exaggerated pop. But before he could speak, something cool touched his tip, then several quick strokes down over his shaft rolled a snug ring down to the base. He lifted his wing from the husky’s head and found him grinning, fingers gliding up and down over the condom, spreading lube from base to tip. The bottle was nowhere in sight. He couldn’t help but laugh. “When did you even grab that?”

Eddie just grinned, got up, and pushed his already-unfastened pants down, striking a pose with his arousal jutting boldly in front of his belly. One hand smoothed fur down over his athletic physique, while the one with lube on its fingers took hold of his own shaft and stroked upward, spreading the rest over his own rigid flesh. He wagged his tail. “I can be sneaky if I want.” He climbed slowly onto the bed, turning his back to the bat and looking back over his shoulder with his tail still swaying. And with his knees just far enough apart, that made his balls sway, too. He knew exactly what buttons to push. Chris turned over and climbed up onto the bed behind him with a swat at his rump, earning a playful growl.

Eddie perked his ears up. “Too tired? We can just go to bed if you want…”

Chris bumped his hips against