“Oh, hush.” Tynan’s cheeks warmed as he climbed out of bed. Since arriving on Earth, he’d managed to fit in - sort of - with the non-para population, but he knew he’d have to be doubly careful around Ian. That meant no magic, no pointed ears, no wings suddenly appearing. Just a normal human boyfriend visiting his mechanic partner. Simple.
If only the rest of my life had been that simple.
He stood before the small closet where he’d magically stored some of his clothes the night before. Malik had made it plain that he’d prefer for Tynan to stay with him, and as Tynan didn’t have any attachment to his rental apartment, he’d agreed. “What does one wear to meet their mate’s only employee who thinks any form of magic is fictional?”
“Clothes would be a good start,” Sparky quipped. “The birthday suit might give the wrong impression.”
Tynan pulled out a soft blue sweater and dark jeans. “I need to look normal. Human normal.”
“You could try not sprinkling purple glitter everywhere.” Sparky hopped to the dresser. “That might help.”
“I haven’t done that since…” Tynan paused, realizing the glitter had indeed stopped appearing after he and Malik had completed their bond. “Well, that’s something at least.”
He dressed carefully, checking his reflection in the mirror. His pointed ears stood out prominently against his silver hair. He tried fluffing his hair over his ears, but it seemed intent on just falling over his back. “I need another hat. I can’t think what happened to my beanie.”
“Or you could glamor your ears,” Sparky suggested. “Now that you’re mated, your magic seems more controlled.”
Tynan hesitated. He’d rarely attempted glamors before - they required precise focus, something his erratic magic had struggled with. But things felt different now. The chaos inside him had settled into something more purposeful, like a river finding its proper channel.
“Worth a try, I suppose.” He closed his eyes, concentrating on the image of rounded human ears. A tingling sensation washed over him, and when he opened his eyes, his reflection showed perfectly normal ears.
“Well, would you look at that,” Sparky said, sounding impressed. “No explosions, no random furniture appearing. You’re practically boring now.”
Tynan laughed, feeling a surge of confidence. “Let’s not go that far.” He ran a hand through his silver hair, which would stilldraw attention, but couldn’t be helped. At least silver hair was something humans could achieve with dye.
With a final check in the mirror – clothes on, ears normal, wings tucked away, no visible glitter - Tynan headed toward the workshop with Sparky riding on his shoulder.
The sound of tools and classic rock music grew louder as he approached the door connecting Malik’s living quarters to the workshop. Tynan took a deep breath, then pushed it open.
The workshop seemed larger than he’d noticed the day before. Sunlight streamed through the high windows and the large roller door that was fully open, illuminating the space where two men worked on separate vehicles. Malik’s broad back was immediately recognizable as he bent over the engine of a truck.
The thinner man - Ian, presumably - was the first to notice him. He straightened up from under the hood of a red Cadillac, his face breaking into an enormous smile.
“You must be Tynan.” Ian wiped his hands on a rag and bounded over like an excited puppy. “And this must be the famous talking bird. Boss has told me all about you - well, not all, I’m guessing, but enough to know you’re special.”
Tynan tensed, wondering what exactly Malik had shared, but Ian’s open, friendly face showed nothing but genuine enthusiasm.
“It’s nice to meet you, Ian.” Tynan extended his hand, which Ian shook vigorously, leaving slight grease marks.
“Sorry about that,” Ian said, noticing the smudges. “Hazard of the job. So, is it true this bird can talk? That’s amazing. I’ve seen parrots do it, but never a raven.”
Sparky, who had been suspiciously quiet, suddenly perked up. “The name’s Sparky, lanky boy. And yes, I can talk. I can also recognize quality fruitcake at fifty paces.”
Ian’s eyes widened with delight. “That’s amazing! How’d you train him to do that?”
Tynan relaxed slightly, grateful for Ian’s assumption. “It’s a... specialized training technique not used very often.”
“Must be. I’ve never heard of anything like it before.” Ian leaned closer to Sparky. “What other tricks can you do?”
“I wouldn’t stoop to performing tricks like a circus pony.” Sparky huffed and ruffled his feathers. “I engage in sophisticated avian discourse.”
Ian laughed. “He’s got personality, too! This is fascinating.”
Malik approached, wiping his hands on a rag. His eyes met Tynan’s, and the bond between them hummed with warmth. “I see you’ve met Ian.”
Tynan nodded as he smiled.
“He’s brilliant,” Ian said, still focused on Sparky. “Where’d you find such an exotic bird?”
