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Tango thought the worst part of being soulbound were the random aches and pains throughout the day. Not the danger of sharing a life, not the fear of accidentally killing your soulmate (though he knew well enough how much that sucked), but those little aches that had no clear origin. And that no clear origin thing? That was what made it the problem!
If he knew where they were coming from, then surely he’d be able to fix it. Tango was pretty good at fixing things! Except he couldn’t fix the pain if he didn’t know where it was coming from. It definitely did not help that he couldn’t even tell if it was actually him who was hurting.
Jimmy was not very forthcoming about the whole “taking care of himself” thing. Which was okay! Tango didn’t hold it against him, even if he wished Jimmy would be kinder to himself, and not just for Tango’s sake. Jimmy also wasn’t a fan of speaking up when something was wrong or when he was hurting. Again, Tango wasn’t mad about that, it just made things a bit, well, difficult.
Especially when it came to determining whether an ache was his, or one he shared with Jimmy. Like currently, Tango had a wicked ache in his back that wouldn’t go away. It had been building for a while now, bugging him to no end, and now it was getting close to unbearable.
He wasn’t sure what he could have done to himself to have caused it! It didn’t feel like he’d pulled a muscle or lifted something wrong, and it was definitely getting worse than just soreness from sleeping wrong or running around. It was almost like something heavy sitting against his back, something both incredibly irritating and painful.
Which meant it probably wasn’t his pain, and that meant it was Jimmy’s. That solved one problem, at least, but now there was another one entirely: getting Jimmy to tell him what was going on. Jimmy, who apologized for stubbing his toe and had to be reminded to drink water, who was most definitely hiding whatever this was.
Well. Tango was good at fixing things! Hopefully, he could fix this with minor stress for both of them.
He didn’t bring it up for a while. Really, he was trying to figure out what to do. He knew he needed to ask Jimmy about it, figure out how to heal whatever was wrong so they’d both stop being in pain. At the same time, though, he sort of hesitated at the idea of actually asking. He didn’t want to upset Jimmy, and worried he’d think Tango was mad at him, think Tango thought he was a burden. And Tango most definitely did not want Jimmy to think that.
It was actually Jimmy that finally said something about it.
They were making dinner, Tango chopping up carrots while Jimmy added them to the stew he was stirring. Bread was baking in the oven, and honestly it was really a really cozy moment. That is, until Tango bent to pick up a fallen chunk of carrot, and cried out as the ache in his back decided to very painfully complain about the movement.
Jimmy was by his side in a second, his gold eyes frantically scanning Tango like Tango had managed to get stabbed in the back while Jimmy was focused on the soup. “Are you okay?” He asked, finally meeting Tango’s eyes. “What happened?”
This was really not how Tango wanted to bring this up, but even in his own pained state, he could see the jerky way Jimmy moved like he was hurting just as bad. Tango knew he was, and that made all of it worse.
“I’m— yeah, I’m okay, I just—“ Tango hissed as he tried to straighten back up, “my back just hurts.” He looked back up at Jimmy, and yep, that was what he was trying to avoid, because the moment he said that something guilty flashed in Jimmy’s eyes.
Those eyes immediately flicked away from Tango as Jimmy backed up a bit, his mouth opening and then closing like he was trying to figure out something to say. Tango could relate, as he was also desperately trying to figure out words that would make this better, would help them figure out how to be okay.
Jimmy figured out what to say first. “I’m sorry,” he apologized, his voice small. Tango tried to protest, but Jimmy cut him off. “That’s— that’s probably on me, I didn’t realize— I should’ve known you could feel it, too.” The back pain was momentarily forgotten, Tango standing up a bit straighter, waiting for Jimmy to continue.
He didn’t, and gosh, Tango really did not want to pry or make him feel worse, but he needed to know what was wrong. “Feel what?” He asked gently, reaching out to take Jimmy’s hand with his. “I’m not upset with you, man, really, I just wanna make sure you’re alright. And not just because I feel what you feel! Genuinely dude, I want you to be okay.” Jimmy’s eyes met his again, and something shifted there, like a door opening, or a dam breaking.
“I— I think I need to show you something.” Jimmy finally said, gold eyes glittering with tears, and the pain in Tango’s chest had nothing to do with the hurt in his back. “Is that okay?”
“Of course, Jim!” Tango responded immediately, squeezing Jimmy’s hand for emphasis. “But, like, only if you’re comfortable with it. I really just want to make sure you’re alright.” Jimmy nodded, and Tango felt something loosen in his chest.
Jimmy let go of his hand, and moved to shrug off his jacket. Tango avoided making a joke about undressing in front of your soulmate, because that would definitely not fit the mood and would probably just make Jimmy annoyed, and Tango did not want that when Jimmy was finally opening up.
All thoughts of joking were forgotten, though, as Jimmy’s jacket fell to the floor and his back was revealed.
At his back were a pair of small wings, as golden and bright as Jimmy’s eyes, bound to his back with a thick cable. They were beautiful, feathered and delicate looking, but Tango couldn’t help but cringe. That was obviously where the pain was coming from; he could feel the heaviness of the bounding causing his own back to ache in more than sympathy.
“I know,” Jimmy said, voice small and as pained as his wings obviously were, “they’re ugly, aren’t they? I— I keep them bound cuz they’re really just a target, in the games, and I’ve gotten used to the pain and all but I guess I didn’t, well, I didn’t think you could feel it too.”
Tango’s chest hurt again, and he ached to reach out to Jimmy, to hold his hand or gently remove the binding from his wings, but he worried that would just make Jimmy recoil. “No!” He answered earnestly, flinching as Jimmy turned to look at him in distress, “no, no I mean— they’re not ugly.” Gosh, he was just saying all the wrong things today. “I— I think they’re beautiful.”
Maybe that was a right thing, because the distress and Jimmy’s eyes softened to something flustered. “You— you think so?” He asked, avoiding Tango’s eyes.
“Yeah, yeah of course man! They’re— they’re really beautiful, actually.” Tango fumbled, his own cheeks flushing. “I mean, they’d look more beautiful if they weren’t, like, tied up.” At Jimmy’s flat look, he kept talking, cheeks burning now. “I’m not just sayin’ that because it’s hurting us with them tied up, though that is, like, sorta a concern. You’ve had them like this the whole game?”
Jimmy’s shame was different than his embarrassment, something defeated that left Tango feeling hollow instead of flustered. Maybe that was another wrong thing, and Tango was apparently better at that than at fixing things.
Jimmy spoke up again, though, and some of the tension fled from Tango’s shoulders. “Could you help me take it off? I— I don’t want to do it, now that I know it’s hurting you.”
That was a start, at least. Tango hated that the only way Jimmy would take care of himself was if it was affecting someone else, but that was something for another night. For now, he needed to remove a cable from these wings and save both of their backs. “Of course, man. I got it.”
He kept his touch gentle, unbuckling the buckles that kept the straps in place, removing the cables and trying not to cringe at the indented and broken feathers. He focused on the softness of the feathers, and the way Jimmy melted into the touch. He could feel the relief in his own back, and it was absolutely wonderful.
“Thank you.” Jimmy whispered, his voice thick, wings trembling slightly under Tango’s hands.
Tango smiled, a little, the relief in his back reaching his chest. “Of course, Jim. Anytime.” His hands hadn’t left Jimmy’s wings. He was still marveling at their soft texture, and at the way Jimmy seemed to relax. “You know, they’d probably feel even better if, like, they were straightened and stuff.”
“You’d do that for me?” Jimmy asked as his voice broke slightly, breaking Tango’s heart a bit. He sounded as fragile as the feathers under Tango’s hands, so different from the brashness and bravery Tango admired so much in his soulmate. There was more to admire, he realized, about the vulnerability Jimmy showed, something stronger than Tango had ever seen from him.
“Of course.” He answered again, dropping his hands from Jimmy’s wings so he could face him and take his hands instead. “Thank you for letting me.”
The smell of burning bread distracted the both of them, breaking the moment. Tango let out a curse, and, with a promise to groom Jimmy’s wings after they ate, went to attend to the bread while Jimmy frantically tried to make sure the stew hadn’t messed up either.
Later, though, when they were full and in bed, Jimmy spoke up. “If you want, you can— you can preen my wings, now.” He was quiet again, like he was suggesting something awful, and Tango wished he could take whatever it was that made Jimmy feel that awfulness away.
He couldn’t, but he could at least fix his wings. “I’d love to!” He replied, sitting up behind Jimmy. Jimmy unfolded his wings, and Tango couldn’t help but marvel in the beauty of them once more. He reached out to touch them with a reverence, gently removing any broken ones and rearranging the ones that had been bent out of place.
Jimmy melted into the touch, and Tango ached seeing him so relaxed, so at peace for really the first time since they had known each other. It wasn’t perfect, Tango would accidentally pull at a feather that wasn’t broken and make them both flinch, but it was still wonderful.
Even after all the broken feathers were removed, after all the remaining ones were made to lie straight, Tango didn’t stop stroking Jimmy’s feathers. He relished the moment, took in the safety and comfort they had in one another, letting himself appreciate the relationship they had built here.
Jimmy was asleep by the time Tango finally removed his hands, slumping against Tango before he readjusted Jimmy to be laying on the pillows. His cheeks were wet from tears, and Tango’s own eyes burned, but tonight wasn’t time to get into that. Tonight was not for thinking about what might have caused Jimmy to bind his wings, to cry when someone touched them gently.
No, tonight was for laying down beside Jimmy, for letting him wrap his wings around Tango like a blanket, for falling asleep with a pain-free back and a love-filled chest.