[McDragon's Memo: This story is about two original characters. For more on Azul, read Generation: Black Air. For more on Michael . . . you'll have to pay attention to GUAS.

Growing Up A Superhero
Angel's Clover
JBMcDragon

"Michael!"

He looked up in time to see Sydney-Eve bulleting across the grass toward him, her dark red hair bobbing in its ponytail.

"Sydneve!" Michael grinned, opening his arms to swoop her up in a giant hug as she ran closer.

"Da-amn!" Sydneve said as he put her down. She felt along his shoulders, squeezing the compact muscle. "You feel great! You must look like an actual man under that shirt!"

Michael laughed and shrugged away from her hands, only slightly self-conscious. "You're going to embarrass me," he whispered, winking.

Sydneve grinned broader. "It's my job. As your senior."

Michael smiled gamely and rolled his eyes. Sydney-Eve LeBeau was one year his elder, and rubbed it in every chance she got. Lately, she hadn't gotten too many chances. What with Sydneve being in school, and Michael flying into other countries with his tutors, visits had been few and far between. Michael had offered to bring Sydneve with him, but her parents--Rogue and Remy LeBeau--had nixed that idea. They hadn't been thrilled with the thought of their only daughter overseas for who-knew-how-long.

It had been sad, too. Michael's parents had been more than happy to pay Sydneve's way, and with the combined estates of Worthington and Braddock at their disposal, it wouldn't've been hard.

Parents could be so unfair at times. Sydneve and Michael had grown up together, and neither liked this forced separation.

Sydneve brushed a lock of dark red hair out of her face, tucking it behind a perfect little ear and looking up at the very tall Michael out of large, green eyes. "You still in love with Marienne?" she asked mischievously.

Michael looked down at her warily before nodding. His raven black hair fell in his eyes, and he brushed it out impatiently.

Marienne Guthrie was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen, and he'd loved her since the moment he'd first seen her.

Of course, she was also eight years his elder.

"I will always love Marienne," he answered, watching Sydneve carefully. She had that LOOK to her that always meant trouble.

Sydneve turned to him, grinning triumphantly, and held out a piece of paper. "I got her number for you."

***

His world seemed to shatter as she spoke those words. The flickering look of dismay on Sydneve's face told him he wasn't having the proper reaction, so quickly he took the paper and kissed her cheek. "I love you," he said, laughing.

Sydneve grinned hugely and started to say something, only to be shouted at from the house. She shrugged. "My brother. Unpack and we'll do something later."

Michael nodded as Sydneve took off across the grass, running for the joy of it. She was small, delicate but with a hardiness that told of long days outside and too many pranks. Michael loved her as he would a baby sister, though she was now twenty and no longer a baby.

He looked down at the phone number, printed in Marienne's neat handwriting.

He loved Marienne. Ask anyone. They would tell you.

Michael sighed and crumpled the paper unhappily.

Off to one side, he saw Sydneve tackle a blue-furred man who staggered back, dropping his suitcases to catch her. Her cry was carried on the wind: "Azul!" and his rich, carefree laughter followed.

Michael looked at the man who was six years older than he was. Azul had lived with them, growing up. The young Nightcrawler clone was old enough, though, that he hadn't been as much a part of their games.

A breeze picked up, ruffling the black feathers on Michael's wings. He shifted slightly so that it didn't tickle so much, and watched as Azul held a laughing Sydneve in one arm, while gracefully getting his bags with his free hand and tail. Michael smiled slightly, and glanced down again at the phone number he held. Finally, he mashed it into his pocket and started toward the house.

***

The house was noisy, bustling with after-dinner activity and people still arriving. Rumors were already swirling about everyone and anything, and Azul was thrilled to have so many people to talk to.

One, however, worried him slightly.

Azul stepped out into the early evening breeze, glancing around the property. His yellow eyes flinched away from the horizon and setting sun, landing on a tree not too far away. The lowest branch was a good fifteen feet up, but that didn't stop winged creatures from perching there.

Sure enough, one large winged creature was standing on that branch, holding his black shoes in one hand. Black wings draped down his back, relaxed and somehow forlorn. He hadn't eaten that night. Azul knew Michael well enough to know that that was unusual.

Putting his hands in his pockets, Azul headed out toward the tree, his tail swinging lazily behind him.

Silently, he reviewed the little bit of information he'd managed to collect about Michael before coming in search of the young man, to make sure he was all right.

Sydneve said she'd gotten Marienne's number for Michael. Marienne said she'd given it because Michael was at a standstill, and fooling himself about liking her. She didn't think he'd do anything with it. Marienne and Azul had both come to the same conclusion: Michael wasn't interested in women, and was keeping up the Marienne crush only for pretense.

"Hello, Mikey!" Azul called, smiling brightly as he reached the trunk of the tree.

He saw Michael start and turn around, then glare at him half-heartedly. Azul suspected it was because of the nickname, but didn't really care.

"Hello, Az," he said, then continued softly, "and it's Michael." He didn't quite manage a glare.

Azul smiled, cocked one black eyebrow. "Yeah. Right. But I'm cute and adorable and so you'll let me call you Mikey, right?" He grinned wickedly.

Michael did managed to glare this time.

"Right then." Azul smiled and started climbing the tree deftly, the lack of lower branches not bothering him in the slightest. He, after all, could stick to walls. Finally, Azul reached the branch Michael sat on and perched on his toes near the younger man. "I was worried. You didn't eat much tonight."

Azul was looking at him so concernedly, and Michael knew that this man was one of the most intuitive people he had ever met. "Thanks, but I'm okay."

Michael looked away again, and Azul frowned. There was something wrong, and he didn't know what. And that bothered him. He knew everything about everyone. People liked to talk to him. Perfect strangers told him their life stories while standing in grocery store lines. "What's the matter?"

Michael picked at flaking bark. "Girl trouble," he finally said.

Azul blinked. "I thought--" he stopped dead, shock making him almost put his foot in his mouth. Quickly, he saved it. "I thought you had a girl at home?"

Michael shook his head, black hair lifting in the light breeze. "No."

Azul stared out at the lake for a while, watching the ripples the wind created. He'd seen Michael looking at men the same way he did--in a more than platonic way. "Have you ever had a girlfriend?" he asked at last, his mind working furiously. Michael was gay. He was sure of it.

Michael shot Azul a look. ". . . No," he said finally, shifting uncomfortably. "I've been too hung up on Marienne."

"Ah," Azul said quietly. "I've never had a girlfriend either."

Michael barked out a startled laugh. "But you've had your share of boyfriends," he said, grinning.

Azul smiled widely. "Well. Yeah. But no girlfriends."

Michael chuckled, shaking his head and looking out over the water. "Hey, Az?" he asked finally.

"Yeah?" Azul answered.

"How'd Kurt take it when you told him you were . . . y'know. . . . "

"Gay?" Azul asked, grinning.

"Yeah."

Azul chuckled. "He didn't mind. Wasn't really too surprised. Took a little while for some of the others to get used to it, but no one hated me for it or anything."

Michael nodded. "Do you ever . . . well . . . um . . . look at . . . y'know. . . ."

Azul turned, watching the young man before him curiously. "Actually, I don't know," he said softly, smile playing around his mouth.

"Oh. I mean, do you ever look at the . . . the . . . around here?"

"The men?" Azul asked.

Michael nodded silently.

"Yeah," Azul said slowly, wondering where this was going. "Why?"

"Do you ever . . . well . . . look at people like . . . um . . . me?"

Azul grinned, understanding suddenly. "Would you like me not to look at you? I know it makes some people uncomfortable, even when I don't. They imagine I do." He chuckled dryly.

"Well, no, I was just wondering . . . if you do. . . ."

Azul watched Michael quietly. The boy had barely looked at him. "Yes," Azul said finally. "Sometimes I look at you. You're a very handsome young man. And I would never actually do anything about that unless you were interested. That, and you're too young."

Michael's eyes snapped around, surprised. "Why would I be interested?" he asked, the words too high.

"Ouch!" Azul cried, grasping his heart. He stood on the tree branch, stumbling back until he fell against the trunk melodramatically. "I've just been told I'm not good enough--even if he was gay!"

Michael laughed in relief. "That's not what I meant. I just meant that I'm not . . . that."

"That?" Azul smiled wickedly. "'That' what?"

"'That' gay," Michael sighed, starting to loosen up.

"But you've never had a girlfriend," Azul pointed out.

"Just becase I love Marienne."

"Oh, that's good," Azul said, nodding. "So you going to ask her out?"

There was studious silence from Michael.

"Mikey? I heard you got her phone number."

"Michael," he corrected.

Azul didn't respond to the correction, only stared at Michael in wait for an answer. "You going to ask her out?" he asked again, when it became clear Michael wasn't answering.

Michael looked as if he were going to be ill. "I don't really think I like her after all," he murmured.

"Ah." The two men sat in silence for a long time. "I suggest," Azul finally said, "that you don't ask her out."

Michael turned and leveled an almost-angry glare at Azul. "You're not helping me."

Azul smiled and shrugged, his eyes fastened on a patch of clover below the tree. The bark was rubbing on his feet uncomfortably, and the clover looked so nice and soft. Glancing at Michael, Azul stood and jumped from the tree branch, landing in a crouch on the ground below.

"Where are you going?" Michael called, leaning to look down and see.

"Just right here. It's more comfortable. C'mon down!" Azul put one hand across his forehead, shading his yellow eyes from the setting sun. Above him, Michael stood carefully and jumped, spreading his large, black wings and blocking out the sun. The wind blew up against his body, flattening his white silk shirt against a hard stomach and the sharp planes of his chest.

Azul looked away before he started to drool. That, he had decided long ago, was both the fun and the horror of living with one of the X-communities. There were so many good looking men to drool over, and half the time if you did so they got odd. Except the ones like Remy, who preened and laughed. Those were the ones that liked attention of any kind. Azul drooled openly at them.

"I don't know what to do, Az," Michael said forlornly as he landed softly. Azul flopped bonelessly into the clover patch, watching as Michael very carefully bent and laid down on his stomach, keeping his wings free. "What if there's something wrong with me?"

"There's nothing wrong with you," Azul said softly, pulling up clovers and examining them.

"But what if there is?"

"There's not." Carefully, his large blue fingers almost crushing it, he split one of the clover leaves. "Here. A four leaf clover, just for you."

Michael took it, laughing. "This isn't four leafed. It's three leafed and one of them is split."

Azul smiled and shrugged. "Close enough." He dropped the newest clover he was working on and stood up. He brushed his blue furred hands off on his jeans, then started walking away, toward the forest.

"Az?"

"Come on," Azul called.

A moment later he heard Michael lurch to his feet and follow.

"Do you really think there's something wrong with you?" Azul asked as he hopped over a fallen tree, glancing back to watch Michael.

Michael clambered over it, pulling his wings in tightly to his body, and sighed. "No. Not really."

Azul waited until they got to an open space, then turned and looked at Michael. "Do you know why you don't want to date Marienne?"

Michael kicked at a pine cone and was quiet for a long time. "Az, what am I going to do?" Michael said finally.

Azul looked down at the boy, shaking his head in confusion. "About the fact that you don't like Marienne?"

Michael struck Azul with a completely dirty look. "About the fact that I don't like girls."

Azul leapt easily up onto a boulder. It had been there forever, it seemed, and bore the wear of many occupants. The top was worn smooth from people sitting on it, one side was hollowed out for picnics. There were more than a few scratches from various children and pets. "I suppose you'll have to live up to it, and date boys instead," Azul said reasonably.

Michael looked like he was about to start crying. "But my parents--"

"Fight for tolerance and world love and all that," Azul interrupted.

"You don't understand at all," Michael snapped, running his fingers through his hair raggedly.

Azul managed not to laugh.

"It's okay for other people to be . . . to be . . ." Michael swallowed and forced himself to say it aloud. "Gay. But not me. I can't be--" he stopped and looked up at Azul's incredulous face. "What?"

"So it's okay for other people to be freakish, but not you?" Azul asked quietly, eyebrows raised. His tail lashed behind him, betraying his hurt and anger.

"Ah, crap. That's not what I meant. Azul--" Michael looked up into the other man's yellow eyes, seeing the pain there. "Azul. That's not how I meant it at all." Michael sighed and took a few steps forward, peering up at the demonic countenance above him. "Look, my parents . . . I mean, other people can get away with a lot and they don't mind. But me . . . Azul, my parents wanted me to have a kid. An heir for the family fortune. And I can't if I'm . . . this. As long as I was mooning after Marienne it was okay. But now . . . " He made a hopeless gesture, tossing away the clover Azul hadn't realized Michael'd been holding.

Azul sighed and firmly pushed his wounded feelings away. "I think you give your parents too little credit," he finally said. "And besides, you can adopt."

When Michael looked up again at Azul, he was almost in tears. "What if they hate me? What if I do this and then it turns out I'm not really gay--that I just hadn't met the right woman or something?"

Azul crossed his arms over his lean chest and eyed the man below him. Michael had to be joking. No one could be this . . . "angst-y" was the only word that came to mind--especially if Michael had already admitted to himself that he was gay.

Michael was fidgeting uncomfortably under Azul's stare. Was I ever this uncertain? Azul asked himself. The fact was, he'd been brought up so differently than Michael had. He hadn't even heard of homosexuality until he'd been nine, and rescued from the genetic engineering pits of Black Air. And then, when it was introduced to him, it was by people who didn't care one way or the other. It had never occurred to him to be ashamed about what he was until later, long after he'd already admitted it to himself. To try to pretend he was something else had never even occurred to him.

Azul was still staring down at Michael, arms crossed over his lean chest. "I don't think you're going to find the right woman."

Michael's face dropped, and he watched his toes dig into the dirt. "I could."

Azul rolled his eyes. His muscles bunched and he jumped, landing in a crouch right in front of Michael. The younger man had no choice but to look into Azul's golden eyes. Azul stood quickly, stepped forward before Michael had a chance to step away, and kissed the black winged man.

For a moment, Michael didn't respond. When he did, it was a positive response, if hesitant.

Azul stepped away after a long moment, grinning. "With a reaction like that," he chuckled as he danced around Michael, "there's not going to be any girl in the picture anywhere." Still laughing, Azul turned and walked back through the trees, a definite spring in his step. He turned back only once, just in time to see Michael sigh and drop to the ground, his face a study in confusion.

Azul almost went back. Then, finally, he decided that Michael could probably use some time alone to think. He turned around and kept going forward.

***

"Damn, that boy can kiss!" Azul said as he waltzed through the mansion door.

Sydney-Eve looked up from her book, her feet propped on Jason Guthrie. "What boy?"

Azul's grin widened, showing large white teeth and long canine fangs. "Don't you wish you knew."

Sydney-Eve rolled her eyes and watched, smiling bemusedly, as Azul waltzed out of the room, grabbed Brigette, who was exactly his age, and swung her around glamorously before releasing her and walking sedately up the stairs.

*******************

Azul pulled his sheet up higher and tried to bury his toes under the comforter. He clamped his tail as close to his body as he could get it, wrapping his arms around himself tightly. His legs curled, his knees coming to rest near his chest. It was still no good. He had to face it. Despite two blankets, a heavy bedspread and fur, he was still cold.

Azul sighed and got up, tossing the blankets away from his slender body and standing. A blue nightlight shone brightly in the corner, illuminating the room. Truthfully, Azul didn't need any light to see in the dark. But the first nine years of his life in the pens of Black Air had taught him to fear the absence of light, and it was one of the things he had a hard time shaking.

Azul made his way carefully around the pile of clothes laying on the floor and headed for the window sleepily. Kurt had warned him that it got cold at night. But had he believed his elder copy? Of course not.

Rubbing his shoulders briskly, Azul padded to the window and reached up to swing it closed.

"You really think it'll be okay?"

Azul yelped, teleporting across the room and landing upside down on the wall. Now wide awake, he blinked with yellow eyes at the shape he hadn't seen perched in the open window frame. "No window screens," he panted to himself, his heart racing. "People can come in."

Michael unfolded his long legs and stepped into the room, shaking his large wings slightly. He turned and closed the window for Azul, then looked back at the man. "Sorry. Didn't mean to scare you."

Azul pushed away from the wall with his legs, flipping and coming to a graceful landing. His heart still felt like it was going to leap out of his chest, and he put a hand there in an attempt to calm it. "S'okay," he said shakily. "How long have you been sitting there?"

Michael shrugged. "About twenty minutes."

Azul's eyes widened. "You must be freezing!"

Michael hesitated before nodding. "I wanted to talk to you, though. About my parents."

Azul blinked. "And it couldn't wait until morning? Mikey, it's the middle of the night!"

"Actually, the beginning of the morning," Michael said sheepishly. "But I couldn't sleep."

". . . Couldn't sleep. Okay." Azul shook his head, running large fingers through his black hair. He turned and headed for the small bathroom, switching on the water and gulping some down. Behind him he heard Michael swear as he tripped on the clothes. "Light switch is by the door," Azul called, remembering suddenly that Michael couldn't see in the dark like he could.

"Thanks," the younger man said. A moment later the lights came on, and Azul blinked wearily. He dried his hands on a towel and headed back out into the bedroom.

"Now, what did you want to know?" Azul asked, hands on hips.

"Just . . . do you really think my parents will be okay? With me, I mean?"

Azul rolled his eyes and motioned for Michael to sit on the bed. As the boy knelt on the edge, his wings draped behind him, Azul pulled the bedspread off and threw it at Michael. Michael took it gratefully and wrapped it around his shoulders, covering his wings and all.

"I think your parents will be just fine with it," Azul said, sitting down on the other side of the bed. He pulled a blanket free and wrapped it around his own shivering body. "It might take them a while to get used to it, but they'll still love you."

Michael looked mournfully up at Azul. "Are you sure?"

Azul nodded. "You going to tell them?"

Michael nodded ever so slightly. "I suppose."

"In other words," Azul said, grinning, "no. Mikey, you can't hide this forever."

Michael glared half-heartedly up at Azul as soon as the hated nickname was used. "Will you come with me?"

"I don't think your parents would appreciate us going into their room at this ungodly hour."

Michael glared at the man again. "I meant, tomorrow. Will you go with me tomorrow?"

Azul hesitated, and almost said no. Only the certainty that Michael wouldn't tell his parents unless someone was there as support prompted him to accept. "But not until I get some sleep," Azul growled. "Now, out! Out of my room, angel-boy! Get out!"

Michael laughed shakily as Azul made a production of chasing him from the room. As the wooden door closed behind him, Azul muttered, "Midnight visitors. Whatever are people going to think of me?"

***

"Mom, Dad, I'm gay."

"You want to be a bit more tactful than that," Azul said as he slouched on his bed, munching grapes. "You don't want to give your parents heart attacks, after all."

Michael looked ill. "What should I say, then?" They'd spent all morning in Azul's room, trying to figure out exactly how to break it to Michael's parents. Michael groaned in defeat and flopped down on the bed, stomach first. "Maybe I should just forget the whole thing," he muffle-spoke into Azul's comforter.

Azul reached down and patted Michael's head. "Don't do that."

"I don't want the others to know yet, either," Michael said as he turned his head and looked up at Azul. "Not yet."

"That ain't gonna happen," Azul chuckled. "This place is one giant family, dysfunctional though it may be. Everyone'll know within days. Maybe one day. Maybe hours. Maybe minutes. Perhaps even milliseconds."

Michael groaned again and buried his face in the bed.

Azul patted Michael's head once more, pulling stray grass and clover out of the thick black locks, then ate a grape. "These are good. Want one?"

Michael shook his head without ever looking up.

"Okay." Azul ate another grape. "You've been laying in the grass this morning?"

Michael nodded.

Azul smiled slightly and pulled another stray clover out of Michael's hair. "I have an idea," he said around his fruit.

Michael looked up hopefully.

"How about we just go in there, and whatever comes out of your mouth is what you say?"

"That idea sucks." Michael propped his chin on his hands and sighed.

Azul shrugged. "It was just an idea."

"How 'bout you tell them?" Michael asked hopefully.

Azul rolled his eyes. "That'll go over really well. 'Good morning, Mr. Worthington, Ms. Braddock. Would you like some pancakes? Did you know your son's gay? How about some coffee?'" Azul pinned Michael with a dry look. "I don't think that would work."

Michael buried his head in the bedspread once more. "Maybe I'm not really gay," he said, his voice muffled.

Azul poked Michael's shoulder with his toes. "Do you believe that?"

Michael shook his head without looking up. "What's Sydneve going to say?"

"'Oh. I know this great guy you'd love,'" Azul mimed in a high pitched voice.

Michael laughed tiredly as the words left the man's mouth. "I shouldn't tell my parents this weekend, though. They're so happy. . . ."

Azul reached down and poked Michael again. "You want my help, don't you? I won't be around later. Perfect excuse to do it ASAP. Now, c'mon. Let's go tell your parents."

***

Warren breathed a kiss on the back of Betsy's neck, listening to her gentle British laugh.

"I'm never going to get this done if you don't stop distracting me," she chided, intent on the food before her.

"I told you I'd make breakfast." Warren looked uncertainly at the mostly burned eggs on the skillet.

"And I told you that for once I'd try," she answered.

Warren cringed as smoke reached his nose.

"I heard that thought, mister."

The blue skinned man chuckled and turned away from his love, pulling two plates out of the cupboard. Azul walked into the kitchen purposefully, vaulting up to perch on top of the refrigerator. His long tail twitched behind him.

"Good morning, Az," Warren said easily.

"'Morning, Wings."

Warren glanced up at the younger man, wondering just when that nickname had reappeared. Sometime during his long stay as a teacher at Angelo's school.

"Hey, Dad," Michael said quietly from the doorway.

Warren almost hadn't noticed his own son, as silently as the boy had entered. "Good morning, Michael. Sleep well?" A glance at the circles under the boy's eyes gave Warren his answer. A telepathic query blew gently from Betsy's mind, but he shrugged it off.

"Not really. Mom, Dad, can I talk to you? Someplace we won't be disturbed?"

Warren turned, his hawk-like eyes seeing the nervous twitching of his son's fingers, the way his black wings hunched closely to his back as if expecting some sort of attack. "That's a good idea," Warren said, smiling as he reached around Betsy and grabbed the skillet. "I was really hoping for a reason to have to dump these."

Betsy glared at him in mock-anger. "Just because we're leaving the room doesn't mean we have to dump them," she pointed out.

Warren froze, hand held above the trashcan as he thought furiously.

"Oops," Azul said from above, his tail whipping suddenly back and forth over the pan. "I'm shedding. Lookit that. Fur in the food."

Warren grinned up at the young man, who was smiling impishly at Betsy.

"You are incorrigible," Betsy said to Warren as he dumped the food. "And you," she said, turning to Azul, "need a full body brush."

"Would you give me a full body brush?" Azul said, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

"Ask Warren. He's more your style, isn't he?" Betsy returned pertly as she started toward her son.

"Meow," Azul purred, stretching down the side of the refrigerator toward Warren in a feline imitation.

"Sorry. I'm already attached," Warren pointed out, grinning. He turned and walked out of the room with his lover and son, leaving Azul to follow.

An image/thought/impression came from Betsy, something more primal and intuitive than normal telepathy. Over the years it had evolved from the original link the two lovers shared, as any long standing telepathic sending would. ~LittleKurtAzulboy invited to meetingprivatesonchildmate?~

Warren only shrugged mentally once more, conveying nonchalance and ignorance all in the same thought. A purple flash of eye shot over Betsy's shoulder, but she continued forward.

Michael kept walking until they'd come to an empty room, where all four people entered. Warren leaned up against the wall, his arms coming around Betsy as she leaned against him.

Azul took two running steps and leapt blithely to the back of the couch, perching there like a cat. Michael stood between the people, though he was slowly inching toward Azul as if for support. His eyes shifted from his parents to the man uncertainly, stopping often at his feet.

"Mom, Dad, I . . . see, I was talking to Azul and . . . I mean, I don't like Marienne like I thought. . . ." He stopped and looked at Azul, a cry for help in his eyes. Azul nodded slightly, but said nothing.

"It's just," Michael tried again. His voice broke, and he was silent for a moment. It only took a moment, though, and Betsy's eyes widened dramatically.

"How long have you known?" she squeaked, pulling away from Warren.

"Known what?" Warren asked, confused. He straightened and stood away from the wall, knowing he was missing something but unsure what.

"I . . . I've suspected for a while . . . " Michael stuttered.

"Are you sure?" Betsy asked. Warren felt her regret at the words almost instantly through their link. Michael flinched.

"Sure of what?" Warren snapped, getting thoroughly irritated. There was a flash of purple, and Warren winced. "Not so loud, love," he said, rubbing his head. He shot a dirty look at Betsy, who was oblivious to it, then looked up at Michael. "Have you and Azul . . . ah . . ."

Azul's eyes widened when Warren shot him a very dangerous look. "Oh no," he said quickly, shaking his head. "I haven't touched Mikey. He's still a virgin as far as I'm concerned."

Michael's face would have put the reddest of roses to shame. "Dad!"

"I'm sorry, but--"

"You're taking this awfully in stride," Betsy said, her eyes narrowed as she watched Warren.

He stopped and looked down at her, then back up at his son before glancing down at his lover again. "Well . . . honey . . . I've sort of suspected this. . . ."

"What?" Betsy snapped, her eyes flashing. "How could you expect it and I--a telepath!--not even pick it up? That's impossible!"

Warren smiled slightly and picked one of her hands up, kissing her knuckles. "You rely too much on telepathy. Sometimes you have to watch things." Warren flinched with the mind-slap Betsy delivered.

"Please don't fight about this," Michael pleaded, stepping forward.

"I'm sorry," Betsy said, turning back to her child. "I just . . . I had no idea." And then, as if to herself, "How could I have had no idea about something this big about my own son?"

Michael didn't answer; it was obvious she hadn't been expecting him to. "I didn't mean to mess things up," he said quietly.

"Oh, you didn't," Betsy said quickly, stepping forward. "I'm just surprised. And obviously your father," she said, sliding an evil look in Warren's direction, "didn't think to clue me in." She turned her attention back to Michael, stepping closer until she could take his face in her hands. Betsy pulled him down, kissing his forehead lightly. "I love you." Warren watched as what she couldn't say, what she wasn't able to put into words, dropped directly into Michael's mind. Color rose on Michael's cheeks, but not of embarrassment.

"Thanks, Mom," he whispered, reaching out to hug her briefly.

Betsy smiled and stepped away, and Michael looked above her head at his father. Warren was smiling, looking as pleased as a child on Christmas day.

"What?" Michael asked, smiling hesitantly.

"It's not often I know something before your mother," Warren said, risking another mental slap. The look on Betsy's face showed she was obviously considering it, but Warren stepped forward and pinned her between the two men as he hugged his son. "Do you have a boyfriend, then?" Warren asked, moving away. His eyes flicked quickly up to Azul and back down, eyebrows raised.

Michael blushed again. "No. Not everybody even knows, yet."

"Is this your doing?" Betsy asked Azul suspiciously.

He looked at her, smiling dryly.

"I know. That's not possible," Betsy muttered, waving a manicured hand in dismissal. She caught the look Warren gave her and the edge of his thought--something definitely disapproving. "I'm sorry, Michael," Betsy said softly. "I just never expected this."

Michael smiled somewhat painfully. "Me neither," he murmured.

"No grandkids," Warren pointed out.

"You can adopt," Azul said quickly. All eyes turned to him. "What?" he said, fidgeting uncomfortably. "I like kids. I looked into it. Scott and Jean adopted Tommy and Chiya. Alessandro was adopted by . . . well, I guess the school . . . sort of. . . ."

Michael rolled his eyes and looked back at his parents. "Well. I'm . . . going to go . . . see Sydneve."

Betsy nodded. Warren smiled and chucked Michael under his chin.

"I'm going to leave for no reason," Azul commented, the words chipper but his stance slightly uncomfortable. With a pink brimstone blast he teleported away.

Michael stood there uncertainly for a time more, then was hugged again before turning and fleeing out the door.

"I can't believe I didn't know that," Betsy sighed as the doors closed.

"You don't know everything, love," Warren answered. He stepped foward and wrapped his arms around his lover, kissing the top of her head. The doors latched with a quiet click.

***

Michael scratched his chin and tossed a pebble in the lake from his crouched position, watching the ripples spread. Absently, he plucked a clover from the patch beneath his feet and counted the leaves. Michael felt more than saw a figure approach across the lawn, coming up behind him before stopping at his side.

He slanted a look up at Azul. The man was dressed in blue jeans and a leather jacket, zipped to the top. He held a helmet in one hand, and his hair was tousled. "You've been busy," Michael noted, remembering the last time he had seen Azul; several days before, when he'd spoken with his parents.

"Yeah. Met a guy for lunch today," Azul said.

Michael nodded and pulled up another clover. "What for?"

Azul looked at him very pointedly. "Not for business, that's for sure," he said with a grin.

Michael blushed and looked down. "Right. Did you . . . have a good time?"

Azul sighed and shook his head. "He only wanted one thing. Men are so disgusting, sometimes."

Michael smothered a laugh and looked up at Azul.

"What?" Azul asked defensively, though he was grinning. "How are your parents?"

"My dad's cool," Michael said softly. He plucked a clover and ripped one of the leaves, handing it up to Azul. "Four leafed clover for you," he said softly, smiling.

Azul grinned and took it.

Michael looked back down, brushing his fingers over the tops of the clovers and making them sway. "My mom is acting kinda weird. I hope she won't hate me or something."

Azul shook his head quickly. "She'll get used to it. Just give her some time. It isn't often she's surprised like that, remember."

Michael nodded.

"Have you told everyone, then?"

Michael laughed ruefully. "Whoever I haven't told, Sydneve has."

Azul grinned. "Yeah. She was asking me if I had anyone steady, because if not she knew a great guy . . . black hair . . . wings. . . ."

Michael groaned, a blush creeping up his neck, and sat back on his hands. "The first words out of her mouth were the ones you predicted, you know. She was quiet for a really long time, long enough to scare the feathers off me, and then she says 'I know this great guy.'"

Azul laughed. "Anyone acting weird? I'll go beat 'em up for you."

Michael grinned at the idle threat. He couldn't remember Azul ever hitting anyone--not even in jest. "Jason, a little. Some of the guys are self-conscious now."

Azul nodded. "They'll get used to it, too. Don't worry. Everything settles down. How's Marienne?"

Michael grinned. "She hasn't said much to me. Just slanted me an 'I thought so' look. You know the ones she gives."

Azul smiled and nodded. "That's predictable." He sighed and turned, scuffling the mud on the bank with his toe. Idly, he twirled the clover. "I'm going inside. Gotta pack, get ready to go home."

Michael nodded; he had to do the same thing still. "Keep in touch," he said as Azul walked away.

Azul glanced over his shoulder and nodded, smiling, then turned back around and kept walking. A moment later there was the sound of imploding air, and the stench of brimstone, and Azul was gone.

***

Kurt jumped as, with a red cloud of brimstone, Azul suddenly appeared in his room. "Hey, copydevil," Azul said, smiling.

Kurt grinned back, then returned to packing.

Azul sat down on the edge of the bed, yellow eyes following Kurt's every movement. Carefully, the young man set his helmet down on the floor and unzipped his jacket. "What do you think of Michael?" he asked finally.

Kurt glanced up at Azul. The man was twenty-five, and beautiful. Absently, Kurt wondered if he had really looked that way at that age. Surely he hadn't had quite the innocence mixed with so many shadows of horror in his eyes. "I think Michael is a very nice boy," Kurt said finally, folding his shirt.

"Me too." Azul was quiet for a long moment, thinking. "I believe he needs some more life, though. More experiences behind him before he's ready to grow up."

Kurt listened silently. "Are you grown up?"

Azul smiled lopsidedly--a grin Kurt was fairly certain he didn't have. "I'm not sure yet. But I'm more grown up than he is. I don't want to baby-sit." Azul's blue face turned darker, though it was impossible to see the skin beneath the fur. "I suppose that's really tacky of me, isn't it?"

"No," Kurt said after a long moment. "If you're attracted to someone, and I'm assuming you are, but that someone is very young and you'd rather date older people, then I would suggest leaving that someone alone for a few years. Let him get older."

Azul considered that, then nodded. "That's what I thought, too." He grinned up at Kurt then, flashing a smile that had caused many a girl to mourn. "But I really do like him, Kurt. He's got a grin like . . . a fallen angel." Azul's smile widened. He twirled a torn clover in his fingers, then grabbed his helmet and disappeared.

Kurt's laughter and words rang over the sound of the teleport, "A fallen angel for the silver tongued devil . . . heaven help us all!"

*************************

Author's note: For more on Azul (as a child), read Generation: Black Air the series. Eventually it'll even have Michael in it. ;)

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