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When Skulduggery was young, and alive, he had wings. As did most, if not all, sorcerers. His wings were made for fast flight, and were almost graceful when he put his mind to it. They were a beautiful cream color, with brown and black speckles across them. He was quite a sight to behold.
And now, he still was. But he was a sight to behold of a different kind. One some reckoned to the Grim Reaper himself. He had lost all his skin and muscles. He had no eyes, nor lips nor hair nor ears. He was purely, and only, a skeleton.
When he was burned on a stake, his wings had been pulled and stretched out from his body, and had been set aflame first. He struggled, feeling, watching them burn, but could do nothing about it. He screeched and cried out, pleaded for any kind of mercy. But none came. And he burned away.
Several, several years had passed since then. Ghastly had spoken to him quietly about it. Asked if he was sure he could never get them back, and when Skulduggery said some things just couldn't be changed, he understood.
As far as Ghastly had known, for years, Skulduggery could never have his wings again. And Skulduggery had grown okay with that, he supposed. But when Skulduggery looked in the mirror, there were the tiniest and thinnest of hairline cracks going down his spine. He reached, and felt them, and remembered what he once had. And when he came to the realization, yet again, that he would never be able to fly with the wings he wings had ever again? He wept, as much as a skeleton with no eyes nor tear ducts could.
Time passed, and Skulduggery comforted himself in a way, by helping Ghastly with his own wings. When he was younger, they were wispy, and a bit frail. As he grew, his wings grew with him. There was scarring, even on his wings, stopping feathers from growing in certain places, but they were thick and well taken care of. He took special care of it, and Skulduggery was happy to help with it when asked. He gently plucked the loosest of feathers free, leaving room for more to grow. He would card his fingers through the feathers with his skeletal hands, making Ghastly shiver, riling him up. And they would make love when they were both excited enough, in the ways they could, covered and protected by Ghastly's wings as they did so.
One night, Ghastly had Skulduggery sat in his lap, facing him. He pressed kisses on sensitive spots, his collarbone and the tips of his fingers, caressing a hand down his spine, making him shiver with delight. They mumbled, speaking I love yous and praises as they did so. After a time, Skulduggery shuddered, and stopped him. Ghastly grew concerned, “have I done something wrong?” Skulduggery shook his head.
“I would.. I would like to.. Show you something. I do not wish to.. Scare or upset you.” Ghastly tilted his head, brought a hand to Skulduggery’s jaw bone.
“Then show me, dear, I would like to see. You could never scare me.” Skulduggery drew a breath he didn't need, nodded, and looked away.
In only a second, bones formed and folded out of those hairline cracks Skulduggery had discovered years ago. They were in the perfect shape and arc of where his wings once were. He gave them a quick flutter, showing Ghastly that in the simplest sense, they still worked. Ghastly’s eyes grew wide, staring at what was left of what was once Skulduggery's beautiful wings. He reached a hand out, tentative, “may I touch them?” Skulduggery nodded.
Ghastly carefully prodded them, ran a hand down the outermost one, and Skulduggery let out a quiet noise of surprise. Ghastly chuckled, and looked at Skulduggery's eye sockets, with adoration and fondness in his own.
“They're beautiful, Skulduggery.” He said. Skulduggery laughed.
“Do not lie, Ghastly, not for my sake.” Ghastly shook his head.
“I am not lying. I find you beautiful, all of you.” Skulduggery tilted his own head a bit to the left, in that way he tended to do when he was about to ask a question.
“Bones and all?” Ghastly laughed a hearty laugh, full of joy and love for Skulduggery.
“Bones and all.” He agreed, and kissed Skulduggery, first on the teeth, then all over. And they made love, in the way they could, with both sets of wings out, covering and protecting them.