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A routine was nothing if not consistent. Besides, what were routines for if they weren't stuck to?
This was something that Heaven decreed long before Tsukishima could remember.
As an eternal being, he should have been able to remember. It wasn’t 'before his time' or anything, nothing was before his time. Tsukishima existed before time. Before the big bang.
Before he was separated from the Heavenly mass of All, he was a tiny drop in the universe. No beginning, no end. Only time. Ongoing time. Forever.
Everything exists always. But only some beings were blessed (or cursed) enough to remember it all.
Tsukishima decided a long time ago that even though he had the ability, it wasn’t worth expanding the effort to remember it all. As long as he did his job, went on missions, retrieved items, and so on. That’s all that his Heavenly higher-ups cared about.
Enlightenment was overrated, as far as Tsukishima was concerned.
Maybe some time in the future he would grow tired of his messenger duties and try for enlightenment in order to snag a promotion.
Maybe next millenia.
Today, however, he was going down to Earth.
He glanced at his notes.
More than the allotted number of demons released: Dispose of Yamaguchi Tadashi.
Okay, so he was supposed to squash out a demon today. They were probably causing more trouble than was assigned.
He alighted on a rooftop.
It was weird having feet again after existing so long as a little more than a beam of light.
Kinda disorienting, if he was honest. Yeah, that’s what he would say if he tripped and fell. Jesus, who’s idea was it to give him giraffe legs this time around?
Oh well. At least he got to be more masculine this time. He straightened the collar of his shirt and absentmindedly smoothed wrinkles out of his pants.
He didn’t have time to unpack why he always felt more comfortable in masculinity than femininity.
A black current of energy shot through his consciousness. He shivered.
They’re here.
It occurred to Tsukishima that he didn’t have time for smoothing wrinkles right now with his target close-by. Besides, he wasn’t going to a meeting. No one to impress.
After his third attempt at walking, he decided on flying. These long legs would take some getting used to. On the other hand, hopefully he wouldn’t be on this mission long enough to get used to them.
He floated slowly over the tops of buildings, dark blue night illuminated by amber street lamps and a faint city glow in the distance.
His dress-shoes scraped over rooftops absently.
Odd.
I like it.
The contact turned out to be exhilarating after so long without a physical form. Sunbeams didn't get to feel the crisp night wind on their faces.
Maybe he could finagle some way to get assignments like this more often.
The electric current was louder now, humming in his ears.
Tsukishima lazily zeroed-in on the source: a small shadow inside a nearby apartment.
Gotcha. He sighed. He kind of wished it had taken longer to find the demon. He just wanted a bit longer in this world.
He might have been out of practice walking, but flying was never a challenge. The problem was fitting his long limbs through the apartment’s open window.
It didn’t really matter if anyone saw him struggling, though. The individual inside this room would be gone soon enough and no one from Heaven would be spying on him. Most likely.
Ugh, if his coworkers saw him dangling out this goddamned window he would never hear the end of it.
He pushed himself through, twisting an ankle in the process. “Fuck.”
The shadow figure turned towards him, peaking over from their spot on the floor.
Wait, why is he on the floor?
“H--hello?” His voice was weak. “I d--don’t have anything worth stealing. Please, just don’t hurt me.”
Tsukishima’s human heart gave a twinge.
What?
No.
He straightened his resolve, raising his hands for possible combat.
A cell phone light flickered on, revealing a mess of freckles and a mop of brown hair. “Hello?”
They looked bad. But not in the way Tsukishima expected. Not the murderous-demon way of bad, more like half-dead bad. Tsukishima found himself lowering his hands.
The phone's flashlight found him and suddenly Tsukishima’s human eyes couldn’t see. A terrified squeak rang out, most likely from seeing him, and a shattering of something hitting the ground.
Tsukishima sighed and switched to his inhuman senses to investigate. A small table had tipped over in the demon’s frantic attempt to crawl away.
He hadn’t made it very far. Just a few paces back from where he'd started from. Sprawled out on his back, brown eyes shot wide with fear.
“Are you…” Tsukishima looked over the pathetic form. “Yamaguchi Tadashi?”
It would take a lot to convince Tsukishima that this demon needed to be dealt with at all. What did he do to get on Heaven's bad side? Well, maybe it was more of a mercy killing. The thing obviously hadn't been fed in some time.
Still, it felt wrong to exorcise him now. Tsukishima looked at him again; clutching his cell phone, huddled on the ground, he really didn't look like a demon. Something in the back of his mind told him to stop. That if he kept going with the exorcism it would be wrong somehow.
Tsukishima ignored it.
“Well, are you Yamaguchi?”
The demon gave a little nod, gaze falling to the ground.
Tsukishima’s hands didn’t want to move, but he forced them into the correct positions, drawing out invisible patterns in the air. He sighed heavily, “According to Heavenly law, I’m required to exorcise you.”
The demon he now knew was Yamaguchi tipped his head farther forwards, fully defeated.
Against his better judgement, Tsukishima gave into his heart and quickly added, “It’s nothing personal.”
Yamaguchi sniffed. “I know.”
Is… is he crying?
Demons usually cried when he exorcised them, if Tsukishima remembered correctly. But not like this.
Tsukishima didn’t finish the spell. Instead, he dropped his long arms to his hips judgmentally. He was going to get some answers.
Yeah, that's why he was hesitating. Answers. And also the prolonged excuse to stay on Earth a bit longer.
“Jesus, what have you been doing down here? You look like a mess.”
Yamaguchi’s head shot up. Then he made a weird noise.
A spell? Tsukishima brought his hands up defensively.
Yamaguchi doubled over.
He was… laughing. Snorting through his nose.
“What?” Tsukishima drew the spell again threateningly. A trap? “What’s going on?”
“I’ve never heard someone like you use the lord’s name in vain before.” Yamaguchi giggled, trying to take deep breaths and failing. “What kind of angel are you?”
Tsukishima snickered despite himself, dropping his arms again. “A weird one, obviously.”
“Obviously,” The demon agreed.
It was almost endearing. Almost.
Yamaguchi looked up at him again, eyes cautious.
“You still haven’t answered my question.” Tsukishima stalled.
Yamaguchi's eyebrows crinkled in childlike confusion. “I thought you were making fun of me.”
Tsukishima couldn’t deny that was partly true.
Especially when Yamaguchi looked at him like that, little lip poking out adorably.
“Well, I was. But I still want to know.” Tsukishima admitted.
"You want to know," Yamaguchi started carefully. “...What I’ve been doing?”
Tsukishima nodded. He couldn't help teasing a bit, “Or I could just exorcise you now.”
Yamaguchi’s face went beautifully pale. “No! No, I’ll… uh, tell you.”
Tsukishima’s mouth curled up. He’d never felt a rush like this from exorcising demons before. Maybe because you haven’t toyed with your victims before, you monster.
“I’ve…" Yamaguchi flushed. "I don't want to tell you."
Tsukishima shrugged. "You obviously haven't been eating. You look like shit."
Yamaguchi laughed weakly.
He raised his hands.
"Wait."
He obeyed. Like a fool. But Tsukishima was way past justifying his actions to himself at this point.
Yamaguchi sighed. "I got a job?”
Out of the million things he'd been expecting, it wasn't that. “You what.”
Yamaguchi spluttered horribly but he managed to continue. “And I've got friends?”
Tsukishima closed his mouth.
"I--It's nice." Yamaguchi shrugged meekly. He scratched at his elbow shyly.
Tsukishima tried to understand. “You’re… playing at being human.”
Yamaguchi turned so red Tsukishima thought he might have been doing some type of magic.
“You… why?” He grappled with this idea that a demon would want to reform himself. “Humans only live for a fraction of time. Surely you’ve been around long enough to know that they don’t do much.”
“It’s fun!” Yamaguchi blurted.
Tsukishima raised his eyebrows. “...Fun.”
“Having friends and… and… family. And…” The demon trailed off... gesturing wildly with his weak hands.
“You already have a family. In Hell. Other demons, right?”
Yamaguchi sighed. “It’s not the same. Everyone in Hell has a 'meaning' already. A 'purpose.' But…"
Tsukishima hated how he became hypnotized by the enthusiasm in Yamaguchi's eyes.
"But humans get to find their own purpose.”
Tsukishima thought about that.
Yamaguchi bit into his lip.
“And what’s your purpose? Demonically, I mean. You don’t wanna do that?”
“I’m supposed to… uh. I’m a succubus.”
Tsukishima’s blood ran cold. Succubus, huh? So I was right: this is a trick. To get me to sympathize and get himself out of this. Wait, can succubi even hypnotize angels though? Is that why I like him so much?
Tsukishima’s blood suddenly ran very hot with a new human emotion. He was burning up.
Anger?
Either way, Tsukishima’s body felt rigid and violent. His voice sounded more dangerous than he thought possible when he raised shaking hands, “Oh. Well, it’s been fun chatting--”
“No! No, please!” Yamaguchi scrambled blindly forward, knocking Tsukishima to the ground with him.
Tsukishima didn't register the fall until his head cracked against the floorboards and his disappointingly human body felt the impact loud and clear.
His vision fuzzed before blotting out completely.
***
Tsukishima hurt. His head, his neck, his back… an ache settled over his long limbs, too.
This is stupid. I’ll never fucking hesitate on a mission again.
He groaned, shifting slowly. Except, he couldn’t move. He pulled harder.
No dice. There was something in the way.
Tsukishima didn’t need this extra little complication of not being able to move right now in addition to his other little Yamaguchi-sized complication.
The odd, wiry restraints wrapped around his arms, torso, legs…
He was fucking tied to a chair. Goddamn demons.
“Don’t move!”
Ah yes, the source of my problems.
“Stay right there!” Yamaguchi sounded freaked. Good. Maybe he wouldn’t try anything stupid.
“Where the hell else am I gonna go?” Tsukishima probably didn’t have enough energy to talk. And yet, he couldn’t just sit by quietly. Paired with his full-body ache gifting him with a distinct lack of filter, it wasn’t going to be pretty. “You tied me to a fucking chair.”
A snort. That same, playfully surprised half-laughter as before. Except this time it wasn’t endearing.
Tsukishima’s heart twisted with what he now knew was shame. Shame that he’d been played so easily. Tsukishima was an angel after all. He wasn’t supposed to be tricked like this.
Except… this didn’t feel like other demons’ attempts at traps. This was… clumsy.
It had heart this time.
No, that would assume that demons had feelings. But… wasn’t Tsukishima having feelings now that he had a physical form? What would the difference be for demons?
Yamaguchi’s cute snickering died out. “You really do swear a lot for someone who’s supposedly so far above me.”
“Goddamn you, Yamaguchi. Oh wait, he already did.” Venom flowed so easily off his tongue in this form. It felt good.
But Yamaguchi just clicked his tongue. “I thought you would be different.”
Tsukishima finally gained the strength to wrench his eyes open. He found his body wrapped in enchanted wire. Which explained why it could hold him. “So you’ve been expecting me? I knew this was a trap.”
“And yet here you are. Tied to a chair.”
Tsukishima grumbled. He glared up at Yamaguchi and got an eyeful he wasn’t expecting.
The demon had a knife, and not just a regular kitchen knife. It pulsed with energy. Very bad energy.
A chill ran up Tsukishima's spine. “Where did you get that?”
Yamaguchi put on an innocent air, even as he swung the knife around, testing its weight. “What, this old thing?”
He nodded stiffly, any semblance of fighting words stolen from his throat. Now that he knew Yamaguchi had a weapon capable of actually killing him, things seemed a lot less funny.
Yamaguchi approached. He wielded the knife in a way that sent ripples of alternating heat and cold down Tsukishima’s spine. He scrambled against his binds like an animal.
Stop, you idiot. It’s enchanted. You know you can’t get out. There’s no way.
But no amount of logic could tell his shaking limbs to stop trying. The only thing coursing through his veins was the desperate need to stay alive. To survive. A new feeling.
Yamaguchi brought the knife closer and Tsukishima noticed another emotion he’d never felt before. It bubbled up, as unstoppable as a train barreling down a mountain. Tears trickled down his cheeks.
I don’t want to die. “Please.”
Yamaguchi’s hand faltered, crackling blade a few feet from his prey's chest.
Silence hung between them, broken only by Tsukishima’s fast, wet breathing.
The blade’s gleaming tip shook in the air. Yamaguchi’s voice was thin. “You know why you’re still alive?”
Tsukishima shook his head slowly, trying to be as nonthreatening as possible. He only wanted to get home now, having lost the patience for disagreeability now that his full-body ache had strengthened.
Yamaguchi cleared his throat uneasily. Still, his eyes sparkled when he withdrew the knife and thumbed over its sharp blade thoughtfully. “You're alive because succubi have to feed off humans’ life sources to survive. But…”
A wave of what must have been terror shook Tsukishima.
“However, angels have an infinite source of life.” Yamaguchi slunk back to the couch, eyeing his captive thoughtfully.
Tsukishima’s body gave into the stress. It shut off. He went numb, bones frozen solid and brittle with this strange new emotion he now recognized as fear. He was good enough at his job to not get fed on before and he wasn't too keen on starting now. In fact, he'd never heard anyone talk about what it was like.
Just fleeting glances with wrinkled noses and judgemental whispers.
He didn’t think he could face that. Tsukishima twisted his wrists in his binds experimentally. Still tightened down. Too tight, he now realized. His hands might be turning red at this point.
Yamaguchi’s approaching feet slapped the wooden floor, loud in Tsukishima’s ears.
He rocked the chair with the force of trying to fly. “Wait.”
“Wow,” Yamaguchi’s face pressed close into Tsukishima’s personal space.
He shrunk away, already feeling his own energy sapping out of his being. Life slipping away from him.
“I never thought you’d be reduced to this so easily.” Yamaguchi’s feather-light fingers smoothed Tsukishima’s bangs back and pressed a slow kiss into his forehead.
Lips were soft, too soft.
Inhumanly soft.
Tsukishima tried to pull away, but strong hands hooked behind his neck to keep him in place. Yamaguchi was like a black hole, inevitably taking millenia away from him. Dragging Tsukishima’s very life out of him.
The contact overwhelmed his very being. Tsukishima’s entire body shook, fighting helplessly, weakly against the inevitability of his death.
He couldn’t speak, frozen to the spot. Couldn’t feel anything except the gentle but forceful energy pulling at his soul.
Draining.
His mind floundered, completely overpowered by the immense pull.
Tsukishima sank deep inside himself.
His body stopped responding, going fully useless. His limbs sagged, the wire holding him in place cutting into him.
Except something unexpected crept into him, too. The sinking gave way to a quiet serenity unlike anything he’d experienced before.
Somehow Tsukishima didn’t want it to stop.
He could no longer feel the ache of his physical form. Pain became a faraway dream. He was vaguely aware of his human body’s needs. His chest seemed to be aching, but it didn’t hurt. Oh, he should probably breathe, right?
A shaky gulp of air carried Yamaguchi’s scent. It was pretty. Sandalwood and embers.
He leaned forward into it, nuzzling into Yamaguchi’s chest.
Then Yamaguchi disappeared, taking his comforting scent with him.
The world returned suddenly, slapping Tsukishima in the face like a bag of ice. Senses punched him one after the other: the room rushed at him too quickly, blinding him momentarily; pain thrummed in his veins, like his blood was made of thorns, piercing his skin from the inside; his head hammered, making the world feel like one overwhelmingly loud concert--
“Th--That’s enough for now.” Yamaguchi was still here, just a few steps away.
Tsukishima chased his voice weakly, head flopping forward pathetically. “No.”
Sharp laughter cut his ears.
Tsukishima flinched.
“What? You want me to take more?” Yamaguchi poked a warm finger to Tsukishima’s forehead, tilting his head gently up.
He cracked his eyes open, meeting shining brown eyes.
Yamaguchi looked… different.
Wow.
“Wow what?”
Shit.
Yamaguchi giggled. It was like twinkling fireflies in Tsukishima’s ears. Yamaguchi’s face lit up. He was glowing.
Tsukishima couldn’t help but smile along with him.
Then something ruined it. He didn’t know why Yamaguchi’s mouth fell into a pout suddenly.
Then a finger brushed Tsukishima’s cheek. It was damp.
“Oh shit.” Yamaguchi bit his lip uneasily. “That bad, huh?”
He chuckled scratchily. “What? Your meals don’t usually cry?”
“Well…” Yamaguchi rolled his eyes. “I’m usually better at easing them into it. I guess I got a little carried away?”
Tsukishima shivered at the fresh memory. “You call that ‘a little carried away’? You almost killed me.”
Yamaguchi snorted. “No, I didn’t.”
“Um, yeah, I was there. You almost di--”
“No.” Yamaguchi’s eyes were serious. “I didn’t.”
Tsukishima stopped talking.
But only for a moment.
“So… do you always look this good after a meal or am I just that much better than humans?”
Yamaguchi collapsed onto the couch. “Well… I, um… I dunno.”
Tsukishima raised his brows skeptically.
“I--I really don’t know!” He stuttered.
Understanding hit Tsukishima square in the chest. “You’ve… been starving yourself. You don’t want to kill them.”
Yamaguchi’s fingers tapped anxiously.
“Here, take it.” Tsukishima offered himself again. Then, when Yamaguchi didn’t move, he snickered, “Come on, you really looked like a mess when I got here, Yamaguchi. Surely you need some more.”
He snorted out that half-laugh again. But it worked, Yamaguchi stepped closer.
Tsukishima smiled up at him, feeling the return of that wispy, fiery smell.
Yamaguchi’s pulling energy returned in the form of a gentle hand on Tsukishima’s cheek. “You really are different.”
He leaned into the warmth, feeling his own soul weaken again. “So are you. Never met a demon with a conscience.”
“I’ll go easier this time.” Yamaguchi’s lips brushed his forehead again and Tsukishima’s human body tensed.
He was true to his word. A comfortable fuzz around the edges of his senses was all that changed this time. Tsukishima was able to push through it enough to say, “I’ll… come back every now and then. For food and--ouch, Jesus, be careful--to… see how you are.”
Yamaguchi flinched against him and Tsukishima’s vision abruptly went red and tunnelled down, down, down until everything was dark.
He felt himself screaming moments before his sight returned.
Yamaguchi’s voice cut through the black void, “I’m sorry, oh my God I’m so sorry!”
Tsukishima blinked groggily, hoisting his head up with great difficulty when everything reset itself just as it had been a few seconds ago.
He saw Yamaguchi wringing his hands.
He coughed. “G--Good meal?”
Yamaguchi’s eyebrows crinkled in confusion before he doubled over, laughing. Unabashedly laughing. He seemed to light up the entire room, completely unrecognizable compared to the pathetic mess he was when Tsukishima arrived.
The angel found himself smiling. I did that. I can do that for him. “You look good.”
Yamaguchi fought through his fit of giggles, wiping at his eyes. “And you look like shit.”
Tsukishima shrugged in his binds. “Yamaguchi, I can’t feel my hands. I think that’s bad.”
His face went pale. “Oh! I--I can let you out now. Promise you won’t… uh… you know?”
“Promise.”
He practically fell out of the chair when Yamaguchi released the spell.
“Jesus. I had no idea what succubi felt like.”
“You tasted kinda weird, too.”
“Thanks?” He huffed.
Yamaguchi giggled.
So full of life.
“Stop looking at me like that, Mr. Creepy.” He stifled another bout of laughter, a blush high on his cheeks.
Tsukishima almost joined in, giddy. Yeah, he was half-dead, but it was nothing a good night’s sleep couldn’t fix. Probably.
He should probably make sure.
“Uh, am I going to die?”
Yamaguchi eyed him.
Tsukishima’s blood ran cold. Oh God, he has to think about it.
“Nope. You should be back to normal in a few days.” He scratched the back of his head shyly. “You can... stay here while that happens? I promise I'll get better at controlling myself. Sorry about that. You just surprised me is all.”
“Surprised you?” Tsukishima was vaguely aware of being deposited onto the couch. It was quite soft. Soft enough for a nap, even.
“When you said, um, that you’d come back?” He wouldn’t meet Tsukishima’s eyes.
It was the most endearing thing Tsukishima had ever seen. “I meant it.”
“You did?”
The hope in Yamaguchi’s eyes filled Tsukishima’s heart to the brim.
And sure, Yamaguchi was probably just looking forward to his next meal, but that was good enough for Tsukishima.
“Don’t worry, you won’t have to feed on humans anymore.”