Archive of Our Own ^beta

Under ordinary circumstances, Naib never would have taken this job. As all of their brethren know, it’s a hassle to go down to the mortal realm - in order to effectively complete whatever mission they’ve been assigned, it’s required that they’re temporarily stripped of their angelic powers, making them powerless throughout the duration of their stay in the human world. 

Unfortunately, these aren’t ordinary circumstances. His title as Archangel Behamfil’s right-hand man is more than just decoration: the honour was bestowed upon him because he’s loyal, he follows orders, and he’s deadly competent at his job. It’s more than just duty that leads him to the human world: his pride in his position would never let him deny any assignment, regardless of how tedious or potentially dangerous it could be.

(It doesn’t hurt his work ethic that, before they rose up to where they are today, Naib and Martha were and always will be close friends, and it breaks his heart whenever she has to cover for something he screws up.)

Even in spite of all these motivators, though, Naib is reluctant to accept this operation, if only because it requires going through the disconcerting process of becoming human . 

To be honest, it’s a shame. If only he didn’t have to be constantly vigilant and wary, forced to rely on his physical prowess in order to escape from sticky situations, Naib might actually enjoy visiting the humans from time to time. Some of the angels, such as Riley - and it’s never failed to baffle Naib, how someone as vile as him could have a halo so pure - prefer to abstain from visiting Earth altogether. It’s funny how they look down upon the mortals, perceiving themselves as the superior species, when they’ve never known the hardships the humans go through to live their lives. 

Then again, he supposes it’s contradictory. After all, how could someone so averse to the notion of being human be able to summon the courage to embrace the vulnerability of mortality, even just for a moment? In a sense, it’s an honour that Naib is the one who has to take all the unsavoury jobs, because it means that the higher-ups trust him with this sort of thing.

…Ultimately, it doesn’t matter what Naib’s personal feelings on the matter are: the important part is that this is a mission he’s been personally assigned by Archangel Behamfil, and he’d fall from grace before he disappoints her. 

It’s been a while since he last dropped by. There’s no time for sentimentality, though - according to what Lady Gilman told him, there’s been an uprising in suspicious movements throughout various areas, possibly attributed to the Underworld’s influence. 

Naib shudders. Arguably the only thing he dislikes more than not having his wings is the demon realm, and those who frequent it. He’s only had the misfortune of visiting once, which he’s endlessly grateful for: there’s something so inexplicably wrong about it. There’s no word he can think of that describes it better than chaotic - as if, if he stayed any longer, something very very bad would happen. 

Perhaps it’s just that angels and demons don’t mix. In theory, they should be treating each other as allies or coworkers. Both sides do the same thing: reap the soul, judge it, and then send it away accordingly. No meddling necessary, in theory . 

In practice, though… 

Well, in practice, things like this happen - things that force Naib down to the human world, where he has to clean up after some demon who’s decided to instigate something amongst the humans for entertainment, and then send them back to their Underworld, more often than not with aggressive force.

He sighs. If only the demons were partial to order and justice the way angels naturally were… but that just isn’t how things work. 

In his moping, Naib almost steps on the still body of an unconscious human. He flinches and steps over it delicately. If he had had the time, maybe he’d ascend the soul, bring it to Clark for judgement, but he really needs to get moving if he wants to catch a demon. 

…Or so he wants to say, but something about the energy radiating off the body feels off - off enough to catch his attention, because he’s not sure if this eeriness is good or bad.  

Fine, I’ll spare a second to bring you to Clark. 

Just as he places a hand on the human’s forehead, though, its eyes snap open, revealing pools of all-encompassing darkness. 

(Well, ‘snap’ is a strong word, as the human seems to be lacking the energy for such a sudden movement - really, it’s more of a flicker, as though they’re fighting to stay awake.

Something about those eyes, though…)

Naib is usually better at discerning living souls from dead, but he could’ve sworn that this human wasn’t breathing when he walked by it. Coupled with the now-evident injuries he’s just noticed, lacerations all over the face and torn clothes revealing more wounds, is it really his fault he made a mistake?

(Yes, yes it is. A rookie mistake, too - he has to make sure this never gets back to Martha.)

What’s important right now is that the human, for whatever reason, is still alive, and has noticed Naib - worse yet, noticed him in a rather compromising situation. Obviously, Naib prefers to be discreet on his missions to the human world, if only because the slightest misstep could cause grave inconveniences for all his kind, but right now he’s not just visible, he’s visible and memorable and without access to his powers. 

The human gives him a smirk, though it looks difficult to force as they wince in pain. Further examination proves that the human seems to be male - as he winces in pain, then. 

“Like… what you see…?” Naib has to give him credit: most mortals, finding themselves in a situation such as this, would be hard-pressed to find any words at all, much less some sort of pickup line. Not to mention he seems to be in extreme physical discomfort - their interaction is playing out while the human is still splayed out on the ground, blood pooling around them. 

( Why does he look so familiar…? ) 

It’s impressive enough that Naib finds himself speechless for a moment - long enough that the human manages to murmur something about a cat and a tongue before passing out again. 

Well.  

Naib isn’t sure what to do. The human is alive, although probably not for very long if left in this condition. He has a demon to hunt down, and Lady Gilman and Martha are going to be more than disappointed with him if he doesn’t stop it. The obvious course of action would be to leave and let nature do what it does best: if he hadn’t stumbled by, most likely the human would have died anyway and Naib would have been none the wiser. 

Something about that doesn’t sit right with him, though. He knows for a fact that he probably could have prevented many deaths in angel form, but the first thing he was ever taught was that not every life is meant to be saved. Still, there’s a difference between knowing he could have swept down and healed some unknown face but chose not to, versus leaving someone who he’s seen to bleed out. 

If he doesn’t make a decision quickly, the outcome will be decided for him anyway - or at least that’s what Naib tells himself, grumbling as he picks the human up. Thankfully, he had meant to spawn near his and Clark’s shared apartment building so that he could grab a few of his devices ( and maybe a few snacks but no one needs to know that ), which means that he can probably make it there with the human in his arms and grab their emergency kit before the human dies on him. 

Absently, Naib checks for a pulse, and is relieved to feel it, shallow though it might be. He hadn’t expected too many crowds around the area when he arrived upon Earth, and while it’s half-true - the few passersby around have hardly spared him a glance - it’s hard to act normal while carrying an almost-dead human with him, especially since it didn’t occur to him to bring any invisibility items, what with his magic nullified. 

More than once on the journey to the apartment, Naib finds himself cursing the Heavenly Law that dictates that he can’t use his powers whilst on Earth. It would have been a lot more convenient if he could have healed the human right up as he passed by, then wiped their memory, but no - he has to do it the hard way. 

Naib finds himself speeding up the pace, letting out a grunt from the exertion. He’d be mightily pissed off if the human died after he’s wasted all this time on them, and to be honest he’s not entirely sure why he’s doing this anyway. He knows for a fact that Riley wouldn’t give up on a mission just to take care of some stupid flirtatious human who can’t stay conscious for more than ten seconds, and it’s a jarring thought that he might be performing worse than Riley. Well, now that he’s gone this far, the only way to redeem himself is if he can make sure the human is alive and functioning before he goes on his way. 

He breathes out, reassured that he’s made it in time, as he unlocks the door to his room. It’s just as he left it, as would be expected, minus a few small shifts here and there from when Clark came to the human realm last. 

Tossing the human on the couch haphazardly ( Naib, you can’t do that, you’ll get blood all over! Naib chooses not to listen to Clark’s voice inside his head.), Naib digs out their emergency supplies. When Clark had first suggested they get a first aid kit, Naib had been skeptical - do you really think we angels can be so easily injured? - but he’s learned to appreciate all the effort that went into a you’re-not-allowed-to-die box, having quite possibly saved him from an unfortunate fate more than once. 

Naib’s never used the first aid kit on someone else before, but it shouldn’t be that different, he assumes, grabbing a towel and trying to remember what Lady Gilman told him about humans and their physiology. 

It’s a messy process, but somehow Naib manages to quell the flow of blood from the human’s stomach. Rather than stripping him, Naib decides to do what he can do without forcing the human out of their clothes because one, that is rather uncomfortable, and two, Naib’s really running low on time if he wants to make it back in time to eat with the others. 

Another predicament, now: should he leave the human and pray he doesn’t wake up while he’s searching for the demon, or should he wait for the human to awaken and then figure out how to make him forget about Naib before going on his merry way?

Five minutes pass and the human doesn’t show any sign of stirring. Naib scowls, grabbing a sleeping potion from the freezer and forcing it down the human’s throat. 

That should buy me more time. 

Now, all this effort spent just because of one pesky probably-minor demon who wants to wreak havoc… 

—

When Norton comes to, he is immediately surprised to find himself not in the familiar halls of the palace. It’s partly a relief: that means that his father isn’t here (yet) to shout at him for being irresponsible and a disgrace to their royal name. Admittedly, he probably was being irresponsible, ignoring Aesop’s monotone warning about how low he was on mana - Norton didn’t expect for it to be sucked completely dry upon arrival in the human realm.

After that, all he remembers is heading down a sketchy alleyway for reasons that he doesn’t even know: obviously, he wanted to pluck a few choice humans that he had been watching from the Ball of Clairvoyance from the mortal realm, but it had not occurred to him that, without mana, he’s not much stronger than an average human. 

Cue the humiliating one-sided fight that Norton refuses to recall, leading to his shameful fate as he blacks out on the concrete. 

How did he end up here, though…? Norton surveys his surroundings: he’s definitely not in the Underworld. In fact, this looks like a normal human apartment. Distinctly, he does recall talking to someone while lying on the ground… all he remembers are pretty emerald eyes that felt like they could pierce through him. 

Shifting around a bit, Norton notes that the stab wounds he’s received are patched up, though rather messily, as though the person administering the bandages had been in a rush. Trying to stand up, it turns out, is not a good decision, as every part of Norton’s disgustingly mortal body screams in protest. He settles for calling out weakly. 

“Hello?” Norton speaks in the human language: the gift of tongues is not common among angels nor demons, but the Demon King had insisted that the ability to communicate with all species would be vital once Norton stepped up to the throne. 

There’s no response to his call, and repeated attempts are all to no avail as well. It would appear that whatever medic had decided to fix him up had left the scene. 

…It takes Norton an embarrassingly long time to notice the traces of sleeping potion that he can taste. 

All of a sudden, he’s much more awake. No mortal would know of such a substance, and any demon would recognize his face immediately and either take him back to his father or use the opportunity to end him once and for all. 

An angel, huh…? 

This is interesting. 

—

The demon’s trail is completely gone. 

As if Naib hadn’t already gone through enough today. 

Why me? 

He groans, head in his hands, as he tries desperately to pick the trail back up for the umpteenth time. Looking up, he notices that the sky is already darkening - certain tasks require him to stay in the human realm for extended periods of time, but Naib is sure that Martha doesn’t expect this particular job to trouble him this much. 

What to do…? Is he supposed to return home empty-handed? Stay for who knows how long, looking for a wayward demon? Not to mention the human - is he awake now ? Naib bites back a curse. In his frustration, he had forgotten entirely about the human, who quickly moves to the top of his list of priorities. 

On the off-chance that the human managed to awaken through heavy injuries and a dose of sleeping draught and regains mobility… 

Yet another mistake Naib’s made, as he recalls all the sensitive files and devices he and Clark keep around the apartment. He can only hope the human hasn’t bothered scrounging around in the secret compartments riddled throughout the place… Ah, I screwed up. 

Dashing back from the other side of the city, Naib practically flies through the stars before landing in front of his door. He can’t hear any immediate movement, but that’s no reason to let his guard down as he opens the door, which is great, except - 

“Oh, you’re back?”

—

Norton huffs in amusement as he hears the presumably-angel zooming through the hallway. Probably a novice, if he had to guess - the archangels are known to be paranoid, and they’d never leave a stranger on the couch without protection in place to confine his movement at the very least. (Not that he’d know anything about that - nope, never meddled with archangel affairs before; perfectly law-abiding pure-hearted Prince Norton is what they all call him.)

Then again, he’s surprised enough that an angel would take the time to take care of him at all: despite their image, he’s heard enough about their ‘fairness’ and ‘justice’ to know that most of them wouldn’t consider him worth their time - just another human on the verge of death who would be easier to ignore. 

This becomes less relevant when footsteps start to approach the door. 

Norton’s in quite the predicament here: obviously, the angel has come to the same conclusion that he had several hours earlier, that being that their absence would be a wonderful opportunity to snoop around and find anything sensitive lying around. Alas, they don’t seem to be as careless with their belongings as they were with him: he’s got little to offer from his, ah, adventure around the apartment other than a few scrolls written in some unfamiliar dialect. An interesting discovery, to be sure, but nothing gamechanging as far as he can tell. If he were in better condition, he might be able to get away with sneaking around more, but at the moment he can’t risk leaving trails or aggravating the injuries. 

The point is, he has to think fast before his anonymous benefactor returns home. The worst course of action would be to out himself as the demon that he is, of course - the animosity between their two races is obvious to anyone with half a brain cell, and he’s nowhere near full power. It’s a horrible thought, but it occurs to Norton that if he’s sustained this much damage in a mortal body from the malicious work of mere humans, an angel with their enhanced strength could probably end him right here. 

(Not for the first time, Norton admits that maybe he should have listened to Aesop.) 

It’s not entirely impossible that the angel actually does know who he is: while his father has worked hard to keep as much about him as possible under wraps, the higher-ups in Heaven tend to have knowledge about things that they really shouldn’t know about at all. However, it’s hard to imagine that he could be used as blackmail material by someone this sloppy in their work… though it is rather strange that the angel just happened to stumble by him on the one day he decided to visit the human world. 

Well, getting called out on his act is better than inadvertently spilling the secret if it’s not already known. The alternative would be to pretend as though he’s a normal human with a normal tolerance - or rather lack thereof - to sleeping potions and act as though he’s unconscious, but simply observing his surroundings tells him he’d rather not do that. 

The footfalls are coming closer and closer, so Norton only has a few moments to determine a convincing cover story before the angel finds him hanging upside down off a couch with his dried blood all over it. 

Straining himself to stand up - Norton’s gained a newfound appreciation for the humans over the previous hours, who can’t even self-regenerate - he waits around the door right as the angel barges in, preparing to explain (read: bullshit) something or other, whatever the angel asks, when- 

What the fuck ? 

Look, Norton’s met angels before. Being the prince means Father will occasionally allow him into meetings with the other leaders, if only to experience the ‘diplomatic relations’ between the races. Yes, he knows that all angels are created to be aesthetically appealing: it would be a hindrance to those whose duty is to guide lost spirits to their final resting places if they were terrifying beasts, even if Norton thinks that’s stupid and unnecessary.

But still, what the fuck? Whatever lies he was going to spew don’t make it out of his mouth, because this angel - he’s more than just pretty, he’s ethereal . Even the archangels he’s met don’t hold a candle to this one: the eyes he remembered glow unnaturally green, and even with the distinctive halo missing he still radiates celestiality. 

…Beyond that, Norton will concede that he’s also physically attractive, and thank goodness he doesn’t sense any ill will from the angel because, while Norton is made to train his physical strength from time to time, most of the focus goes into honing his demonic powers which are very notably absent. The angel, even without access to his powers, seems like he could finish Norton off in an instant. 

That, coupled with the fact that the angel is - well, with no better way to say it, kinda hot, makes for an interesting thought. But that’s besides the point, because Norton is still standing there gaping at a complete stranger who, for all intents and purposes, picked him up while he was dying on the street and fixed him up out of the goodness of his heart. 

He prays his voice doesn’t come out too dry when he speaks. It’s not like him to be so out of his element, and he’s endlessly grateful that he didn’t drag Aesop out with him for this escapade, if only because the relentless mocking he’d receive sounds like a pain. 

Confidence, he’s found, is always the way to go, even when in a potentially fatal situation: as long as he looks like he knows what he’s doing, he’ll probably be able to find a way back home without disappointing his father too greatly. 

Thinking of the Demon King, on second thought, was not a good idea. Norton winces at the thought of the harsh scolding he’ll receive upon his return. Not to mention - how is he supposed to explain why he was playing around in the mortal realm anyway?

He’s got enough problems on his plate without thinking of his father, so Norton files that away in order to assess the current situation. 

“...I see you’re awake,” the angel says - and lord, if that voice doesn’t just fit the face perfectly. Norton hadn’t realized he was so susceptible to the charms of their divine counterparts until today. 

Norton’s already being watched with some wariness, though, so treading carefully right now is crucial. Losing his head would not be a good idea.

“Yep!” Norton has no idea what he’s doing, but the angel seems to be not in a great mood and since he would really like to get out of here alive it would probably be in his best interest to not provoke him.

With that said, the angel lets out a displeased grunt. “How are you feeling now?”

That’s a bit of a surprise: Norton hadn’t expected him to actually care about how Norton’s faring in favour of kicking him out immediately. Shockingly enough, ‘angel’ and ‘kind’ are not synonymous, but he hasn’t been able to figure out any ulterior motive the grumpy angel has. 

What to answer, though? Obviously, he’d like to make it back to the palace unscathed as soon as possible and without any reason to receive punishment, but it doesn’t appear that accomplishing both at the same time will be possible. 

There’s also the actual truth, that being that Norton is still in immense pain and doesn’t particularly feel like finding his way home while acting as though he hasn’t been gravely humiliated as a result of his cockiness. 

All of a sudden, an idea. 

The angel seems - well, ‘trusting’ is a bit of a stretch, considering the glare Norton’s currently receiving, but at the very least he seems generally unaware of Norton’s identity. 

If he has a soft spot for humans like Norton is beginning to suspect… 

Yes, yes, it’s all coming together.

This way, he’ll be able to recover his strength in privacy without being shamed by his acquaintances, and he’ll be able to gather information on the angels that, to be honest, he doesn’t really care about but his father does and that means he won’t have to be told off nearly as much as he had been expecting.

(Not to mention he gets more time to ogle the angel.)

“I’m - I’m alright,” Norton replies, cringing exaggeratedly so as to show that he is not, in fact, fine. It’s a bit worrying that the act isn’t nearly as fake as he wishes it was: the pain is indeed still present.

He almost pities the angel, who looks tired and generally Done With Everything. 

Norton can tell the offer is extended out of extremely strained courtesy when the angel asks him if he’d like to stay the night. 

Norton is a demon. Norton does not feel guilty for ignoring the obvious social cues. 

“Oh, would that be alright?”

The twitching of the angel’s eye says no, but the angel’s pretty mouth says yes and that’s all that matters in the end. 

—

Naib has found himself a third roommate now, apparently. 

He just has to make sure the stupid human leaves before Clark drops by for some reason or another, or so he tells himself, but it’s kind of pitiful how he can’t even move properly on his own. Somehow, Naib finds himself spoon-feeding the human while trying his best to help out with the changing of bandages. 

Dinner is more of an ordeal than the entire day has been. As it turns out, Stupid Human is a picky eater with the strangest tastes that just so happen to collide with his own, and Naib is half questioning whether this is on purpose, whether the human is just screwing with him and the brief bout of generosity that had washed over him today. 

Between the godawful pickup lines, the constant complaints about the food, and the general noises coming from the human’s mouth, Naib isn’t sure how much more he can take. 

At some point, Naib decides that, if he can’t stop the human from talking, he can at least get him talking about something more productive and less soul-draining. 

“If it’s nothing too personal, would you mind explaining to me how you got so badly injured?” Given the human’s track record, he wouldn’t be surprised if he had just stumbled upon a street fight or something of the sort and refused to back out - but just in case it has anything to do with the demonic activity that has abruptly come to a stop, Naib figures he might as well ask. 

The human raises an infuriating eyebrow, and Naib is confident he’ll end up regretting the question already. “Curious about me, are you?”

As if . Naib barely suppresses a snort - idiotic mortals come in handfuls, and this one isn’t much different from the rest, albeit significantly bolder. He’s not sure what kind of answer wouldn’t give away his contempt, so he hums something unintelligible: it’s already clear the human rather likes talking, and Naib is sure that if he waits long enough he’ll get an explanation. 

His intuition is correct: after it becomes clear that Naib isn’t going to say more, the human pouts and answers.  

“It’s my turn to ask a question now.” The human interrupts the flow of Naib’s thoughts, donning a rakish grin. It only takes him a moment of contemplation to come up with something. “What’s your name?”

Naib hesitates. He’s never been particularly wonderful at improvisation, and something tells him the human will probably be able to see through any fake name he gives. If he does give his real name… well, interactions between demons and humans aren’t unheard of, and it would be more than just a hassle if one of the demons could use his true name against him. 

The human is looking at him expectantly, and in that split second Naib decides that it wouldn’t hurt to give his name, if only because the human won’t be staying with him for long (assuming Clark keeps the ingredients for a healing potion somewhere around here, and assuming Naib can remember how to brew one properly).                            

“I’m Naib.”

He looks unfairly surprised that Naib actually answered, but that becomes less important because the human smiles wide and damn , that’s - well, he looks better when his mouth is shut. 

“Naib, huh? That’s a pretty name, how fitting.” 

—

Much to Norton’s delight, he’s quickly discovered that the angel - Naib - doesn’t seem very good at hiding his emotions. It’s cute that he tries, but it’s all in the way he obviously reacts to everything Norton says to him. There’s a twitch of the eye, the strain in his voice… Aesop would say that liars are good at spotting other liars, but it really doesn’t take Norton’s experience to be able to see how little patience Naib has for him.

He’s having a lot more fun than he has in a while, teasing this angel. Frankly, he couldn’t care less about the animosity between the two factions. Politics bore him, and though his attendants may call him fickle and childish, he cares more about entertaining himself than much else. 

Really, he hadn’t expected to get away with it when he had asked to be spoon-fed. Given how irritating he knows he’s acting, Norton’s surprised that the angel bothers to accommodate him at all. Regardless, it’s funny, so he doesn’t mention that he could probably do everything with his own two hands. 

It feels a lot like a victory in some unspoken battle when Naib finally sighs, slowing down in all his motions. It occurs to Norton that perhaps he had gotten in the way of some mission or another: he doesn’t know exactly how the angel realm functions, but from what he’s grasped their hierarchy is set in stone. He doesn’t often see angels strolling around the human world for no reason, so most likely Naib’s some aspiring archangel trying to kiss up to his superiors. 

Well, too bad for him. Norton likes him, but not enough to humour him. Besides, even Norton’s a little scared of the elite angels: if Naib’s some minor angel like he suspects, he doesn’t have a chance anyway. 

(He shivers, remembering the horror stories he’s heard about Archangel Behamfil and her elusive-yet-deadly right hand man. Prince though he might be, he’s not nearly as naive and unknowledgable about otherworldly affairs than the kingdom believes.) 

“Cold?” Naib asks, already exiting to grab a blanket. He’s said it once and he’ll say it again: Naib’s really not like any angel he’s ever met before. If he was anyone else, maybe he’d begin to doubt his judgement - maybe Naib is just some unsuspecting human who got his hands on certain magical substances - but he is the prince of the Underworld for a reason and his judgement is usually quite sound. 

To be fair, maybe that’s not exactly reassuring, given that Naib found him while he was lying half-conscious on the concrete and bleeding out, but… technicalities. 

In any case, Naib reenters the room looking unnecessarily flustered. He tosses over a fleece blanket. “Don’t say a word ,” he hisses, leaving Norton incredibly fascinated. Not saying a word is not exactly his forte, so Naib should be very proud at his display of self-control when all he does is snort indelicately. 

The blanket is certainly warm and comfortable, but what leaves him snickering is the pattern atop: little cartoon owls dance around in a very cutesy pattern that Norton hadn’t expected from someone like Naib. 

“...Do you live by yourself?” he asks, face twitching. He suspects that, were he not injured, Naib would have kicked him out at that very instant, but instead he settles for flicking Norton on the forehead. 

“Shut up,” Naib grumbles. “My… friend sometimes crashes here.” Oh, that’s a shame. No amount of threats would be able to stop Norton from making fun of him if this had been a blanket he had willingly picked out for himself. 

Still, that’s interesting. A permanent residence in the human world for two angels? He’s never heard of it. Maybe Norton should be doing less playing around and more investigating. He can delay it all he wants, but inevitably he’s going to be punished severely by his father. 

…Well, that can wait until later. Right now, he can use his recovery as an excuse to not move from his spot on the sofa. 

Sleeping potion or no sleeping potion, Norton is tired and Naib doesn’t seem to have any murderous intent. He can already feel his mana recovering anyway, so he should be able to hold off any attempted surprise attacks while he’s asleep. Something tells him Naib isn’t the kind of person to do something like that, but just in case, he grabs the first sharp thing he can find and slides it into his sleeve without drawing attention to himself. 

Yawning, he makes vague gestures with his wrist. “I think… ‘m gonna go rest.” Already his eyelids are fluttering, though he knows that he can stay up for days on end if he has to. Norton just prefers being in top condition while in human form, alright? He feels terribly vulnerable in this flesh vessel. 

Just because he’s exhausted doesn’t mean he doesn’t notice the way Naib sighs in relief, of course. He almost wants to stay up a little longer just to keep talking his face off, but he’ll have mercy for today. 

“Good night.” Naib tucks him in, adjusting the blankets and grabbing a pillow so he can rest comfortably, and Norton can’t help but feel slightly unnerved. Forget the feud between factions, there’s hardly a single demon or human soul who would act so intimately towards a stranger - a fully grown adult-appearing one, not to mention. 

He can’t deny that it feels good, though. 

“Night.”

Sleep is one of the few joys of being in a human body, so Norton will savour it while he still can. 

— 

The human has finally shut up. 

Thank the heavens for that, because Naib’s not sure how much more of that he could take. 

Yes, he really is a lot easier on the eyes provided he’s being quiet. Naib chuckles watching how easily he falls asleep - he probably is worn out from whatever fight he got into, and even a particularly tolerant human will still be affected by a sleeping potion. 

Even though the human is kind of a pain, it’s been more relaxing than he’d like to admit. Though his personality is a whole other trouble for Naib to deal with, conversation feels so easy - so much less pressuring than all the other tasks that he’s been assigned to deal with lately. Things have been chaotic, and while he’ll never deny Martha a thing, he has to admit he’s been a little stressed. 

Not that he’d ever admit it, but this time with the human has been a refreshing break from the constant missions and duties that he’s assigned. Surely Martha won’t mind if he takes a short break, right? He’ll just take the night off to watch over this unfortunate soul and then he’ll report back in and chase after that demon. 

Yes, that sounds like a good plan. He hopes Clark doesn’t realize he’s borrowed his blanket: not because he’s worried he’ll be mad, but because Clark will probably get the wrong idea and buy fifteen more of those hideous designs under the misguided impression that Naib actually likes them. 

He watches the human’s chest rise up and down for a few minutes. It’s rather therapeutic after he’s spent all day dashing around everywhere - without his powers too - and it takes him a while to pry his eyes away. Nonetheless, he knows he’s going to have to deal with an unbearable amount of teasing if he gets caught staring, so he looks away. 

Naib said he was going to take a break, but what does that even really entail? It’s been a while since he’s done anything of the sort, and he’s so used to constantly working that he’s not sure what he’d usually do in his leisure time. 

In the mood to occupy his hands, he brews some tea and grabs a bag of chips out of the extensive snack collection at hand in the apartment. It wouldn’t do to leave such a troublemaker out of his sight for extended durations of time, though - who knows what he’ll do if Naib leaves him to his own devices? He’s still slightly concerned about what the human had been up to while he was looking for a certain demon. 

Thankfully, he returns to the room as he had left it. That’s good. Clark would definitely chew him out if he learned a human had gotten their hands on confidential documents, despite the fact that he also hadn’t made any effort to secure them. Grabbing a few files, he haphazardly shoves them into a much better spot. It’s definitely not the best job he’s ever done, but he refuses to leave the human alone for too long. 

Speaking of which: huh. Now that he’s gotten a good look at the human, he’s certainly not unattractive by mortal standards. He had noticed something of the sort earlier, but at the time he had been in too much distress to really appreciate it. Now, though, he wonders how he hadn’t seen earlier - and how someone so obnoxious could be so pretty. Honestly, what a waste. 

Or so he says, but when he’s sleeping, the human looks terrifyingly innocent. Naib knows that just moments ago, he would have rejoiced at the thought of him leaving, but now that everything is peaceful and quiet, it’s difficult to remember just why he had been so repulsed by the human’s existence. 

Before Naib even realizes he’s moved, his hand is planted in the human’s hair. 

“Mmn,” the human mumbles, shifting slightly. Naib stiffens. What’s gotten into him? It’s not like him to do something so impulsive. Has his impromptu roommate stirred? Thankfully, all he does is continue making obscure sleep noises. Naib relaxes minutely. 

Now that he’s here, he finds that he doesn’t really want to move. The human’s hair is soft and fluffy, and Naib finds himself rubbing patterns in it while kneeling below the end of the couch.  

Ignoring the loss of common sense, Naib simply allows himself to revel in the moment. Martha is always telling him he should loosen up while he can, right? Right now, if he closes his eyes, he can pretend that they’re just two humans without a worry in the world. 

Reality is harsher than that, and he’s forcefully pried out of his shameful fantasy when Lady Gilman calls out to him in his mind. Startled, he jerks away from the human, hoping he hasn’t woken the human up. 

“Subedar?” Lady Gilman asks, sounding uncharacteristically bothered. From an outsider’s perspective, he looks distracted and zoned out, but the conversation that occurs mentally is entirely private. 

“Yes, Lady Gilman?” He hopes she hasn’t bothered peering down upon him. Not that it’s really any of her business, but Naib knows that she’ll probably disapprove if she sees he’s harbouring a human in his apartment. Typically, none of the three factions mingle for unexceptional circumstances, but it’s not as taboo as it is unconventional. 

Thankfully, she’s preoccupied with something else. “Are you still in the human realm? Is this task proving to be unexpectedly difficult? You are typically very efficient with your work. We can send reinforcements if you so desire.”

Oh. Right. He had been so busy with the human that he had forgotten to report in to his superiors. 

(Really, they’re not technically his superiors in anything other than title: he’s gained the trust of most of his fellow angels with his ability to get results, and he’s certainly capable enough to tackle any mission assigned to him. Ranks don’t matter too much to him - the important thing is getting the job done.)

“My apologies, Lady Gilman.” He bites his lip, feeling slightly guilty at delivering news of failure for the first time in a long while. Especially with a mission that had seemed fairly trivial, it’s embarrassing to slip up like this. Perhaps his attention had just been diverted, but that’s hardly an excuse. “I’m afraid I lost the demon’s trail. Reinforcements will not be necessary, but I may have to linger in this world for longer than previously expected.”

Lady Gilman hums. “I understand. I will report this news to the Archangel, but please try not to dawdle too long. If I recall correctly, you promised you would join us for a meal at some point, no?” 

Naib freezes. This really isn’t like him. Rarely does he forget his promises, and never does he break them; besides, this might mark the first time in his immortal life altogether that he’s forgotten about free food. This human is even more distracting than he had initially realized, it would appear. 

“Of course, Lady Gilman. I’ll try to return as soon as I can.”

Lady Gilman makes a noise of acknowledgement. “If that’s the case, then I am certain I can trust you, Subedar. Archangel Behamfil sends her regards.” Her voice disappears from his mind. 

Well this is just terrible. One of many reasons why Naib never complains is because he knows Martha’s almost certainly got more to deal with than him: the two of them never keep secrets from one another, but they’ve had less and less time to spend together lately. Naturally, he’d never miss out on a rare chance to relax beside his best friend and Lady Gilman, and he’d hate to keep them waiting.

Yet abandoning this injured human here makes him feel uneasy for more reasons than one. Naib’s not even sure the human will be able to take care of himself once he goes, given how he generally behaves. Logically speaking, it should be fine: he’s already done more than enough by having mercy and treating his injuries instead of leaving him to rot. Anything else wouldn’t be expected of him - in fact, given that his presence will likely be required in heaven, it might even inconvenience his kinsmen. The more time he wastes here with the human, the more things Martha and Gilman and Clark have to handle without him. 

It should be an obvious choice. Free food, time with Martha, and the restoration of his angelic powers against an irritating human whose name he doesn’t even know - it should be an obvious choice, right?

But instead of desperately trying to get in contact with Clark to relearn how to brew a healing potion as quickly as possible, Naib falters. He looks at the human’s sleeping face and knows that, in spite of everything, he wouldn’t feel right doing that to anyone. Martha’s told him before that he’s more of a softie than he looks, and he chooses to ignore that. 

(Also, the one thing that he’s terribly bad at is potion-making. The magic that flows inside of him is incredibly strong, it’s true, but channeling it into a physical form - a consumable form, no less - has proven to be difficult time and time again. No one, not even the king of hell himself, deserves to try Naib’s first few attempts at making any kind of potion.) 

Well, it should be fine. If everything goes according to plan, the human will recover in a few days, and Naib can use that time to look for any remaining traces of the demon he was hunting. Once all those loose ends are wrapped up, he’ll be overjoyed to return to the celestial realm and go back to his everyday life. 

Thinking about it, his everyday life sounds kind of… boring. He shakes his head: this must be the human’s influence, his teasing smile and sharp tongue suggesting a carefree life. Unlike this human, though, Naib’s never going to end up dying in the middle of nowhere because of his recklessness. This time in the mortal realm will serve as a learning experience, and then he’ll go home and never look back.   

Constant unchanging habits and orderly routine: Naib can appreciate that. Maybe the human’s messed with that a little, but in the grand scheme of things he’ll forget about his existence anyway. Maybe he’ll even get to meet him again when he dies. 

For now, Naib has had enough. It’s been a long day, and while he doesn’t necessarily need sleep, this human body will certainly appreciate it. Grabbing his own distinctly unpatterned blanket, he settles in beneath the couch on which the human sleeps. Though he intends on just resting his eyes for a few moments, even Naib is helpless to the grip of fatigue as he slips into much-needed slumber. 

— 

Norton wakes up feeling happy for the first time in a while. Contrary to human myths, demons aren’t necessarily unfeeling and utterly coldhearted, but the constant pressure of being royalty and the thought of having to rule over all his future subjects makes it hard to enjoy himself regularly. Aesop’s company is the closest thing he has to entertainment, but he tends to disappear and reappear on a whim, only curing Norton of his boredom when he feels like it. 

Naturally, he knows this must mean he’s been up to some mischief. Interestingly enough, though, there’s a distinct lack of lecturing from his father in his face. He’s gotten used to the constant back-and-forth: he screws something up, the king screams at him, he holds it in until he can’t anymore and goes to take out his pent-up emotions on the human race, the king notices and adds it onto the list of reasons he’s an unfit heir. He really couldn’t care less about continuing the royal lineage, but the perks that come with being the prince are enough to just barely keep him sane. 

One minute passes and it’s still eerily quiet. Did the old man finally go senile or what? Part of him wants to stay in this fantasy where he’s all by himself with no one to scold him for every failure in life, but he knows he’ll have to open his eyes sooner or later. 

Slowly but surely, he cracks one eye open and begins to remember exactly what he had been up to. 

Right - he’s not even in the demon realm. For a moment, he winces, wondering how the kingdom is faring with their missing prince. He’s pulled stunts like this before, disappearing into a different realm, but never for so long. Has it already been a day? 

Fortunately, the only person who would likely be able to locate him would be Aesop, and Norton has faith that he wouldn’t snitch on him to his father. To call their relationship friendship would be simplifying things, but in the end Aesop is the person who knows him best and that’s what matters. For now, while he buys time trying to find an excuse, he’ll make the most of his situation. 

It’s at this moment that he realizes that he’s not alone in the room. Though it’s light and barely audible, the faint sound of breathing comes from below him. Peering down, he sees - oh yes, he remembers now. How could he ever forget this angel?

Naib, he said his name was. At some point he must have fallen asleep too, so vulnerable in sleeping on the floor. Norton could take advantage of this and wreck the place or kill him or something, but he’s got some standards. Besides, just moving around is a very forceful and physical reminder that his entire body still aches, and it’d be largely counterproductive to get rid of the one interesting thing in his life right now. 

He reminds himself that, if he really wanted to, he could snoop around - he just doesn’t feel like it right now. Sooner or later, he’ll do something productive that isn’t just staring at the angel’s sleeping face. 

So he says, but he spends a frankly embarrassing amount of time doing nothing but watching Naib sleep. Hopefully it’s been no more than an hour, but there are no timepieces in this room. Perhaps that’s for the better, so Norton doesn’t have to know exactly how long it’s been between his waking up and Naib’s waking up. 

“Good morning,” he coos as Naib stretches. It’s almost comical how he jolts at the sound of his voice: he hadn’t realized an angel could make a face like that. It’s very cute. 

“Clark…?” Naib mutters blearily, rubbing at his eyes. “What’re you doin’ here?” 

Interesting. This Clark must be Naib’s roommate. Norton’s tempted to see how long it takes Naib to realize something’s off, so he says nothing.

Naib yawns. “Did you bring breakfast? ’m hungry.” He grabs at the air, and Norton has to shove his hand in his mouth to stop himself from laughing. 

Enough is enough, though. “Ahem.” Norton clears his throat, and his voice must be different enough from Clark’s that Naib picks up on it. It’s hilarious how he switches from his adorable sleepy mode to immediately being on guard, but Norton’s living for it. 

“Oh.” Naib loosens up a little once he sees it’s him, though his face flushes red for reasons Norton’s sure he could discern. “Good morning,” he says stiffly, looking away. 

Norton can’t suppress the urge to make a light jab at him. “Unfortunately, I’m in no state to be making you breakfast,” he says, gesturing towards his bandages, “but there’s a cup of tea over there that’s probably gone cold and a half-eaten bag of chips.” He chuckles, rolling over on the couch. 

Naib scowls. “I’ll go make something.” He grunts, likely trying to regain what shreds of dignity and composure he has left after that display. In a sense, Norton’s kind of glad he’s gone back to this distant tolerance of him: though he had liked seeing Naib so different from how he’s used to, the sight had felt uncomfortably… private. It’s not the kind of thing that Norton should get to see, not after only knowing him for a day. 

On the other hand, once Naib leaves the room, Norton smushes his face against his pillow to hide his grin. Really, this is so much fun.

—

One of the great many reasons that Naib prefers sleeping on his own is that his half-conscious self tends to be rather questionable. 

His face burns as he walks over to the kitchen, willing the human to forget about everything he’s just witnessed. If it was just Clark, it would have been fine - Naib’s friends tend to be used to his eccentricities, but this human in particular… god, he just knows he was two seconds away from bursting into laughter. If only he could do a mind wipe. Maybe he’s not supposed to erase memories for trivial reasons, but surely the damage to his pride is important enough to warrant it. 

Well, if the human won’t forget, the best he can do is force his embarrassing half-asleep self out of his memory. He’s not in the mood to make anything big, especially since the human will inevitably complain anyway, so he grabs a bowl of cereal and two cups of yogurt. Picking up some spoons on the way back, he drops the food at the table in front of the couch, going back to retrieve his own refrigerated waffle. 

The human looks at him expectantly instead of eating. Taking a bite out of his waffle, Naib raises an eyebrow. He gestures at the bowl on the table, grinning. 

Oh hell no. After he eats, he fully plans on somehow keeping the human restrained and then heading out. He does not need to waste more time dealing with the mental strain that is spoonfeeding a grown man, albeit a rather attractive one. 

“Do it yourself,” he grumbles gruffly. If his hands work well enough to make rude gestures at him, they’ll work well enough to scoop soggy cereal into his mouth. 

The human pouts. “Fine.” As Naib suspected, his perfectly functional hands move smoothly. At this rate of recovery, surely he’ll be out of here and out of his life in no time. 

Eating together like this in the early hours of the morning brings back memories. It’s nothing in specific, but he reminisces fondly about the times before he and Martha were flooded with work. They were a lot freer back then - times were easier in every way possible. The two of them would sneak out for a midnight snack, and everyone would pretend not to notice them. 

He blames that and the way the light strikes the human’s face for the way he stares. He’d tried to disregard it earlier, but honestly? The human’s not as bad as Naib initially made him out to be. When he’s not intentionally being annoying, he can be pleasant company. 

“Something on my face?” the human asks, tilting his head. 

Abruptly, a thought from last night strikes Naib. Instead of answering the question, he responds with his own. “What’s your name?”

Some say it’s easier to not get attached when there’s no name to call someone by, but Naib thinks he probably won’t have to worry about that anyway. Might as well figure out what to call the human other than The Human. 

It surprises him that he doesn’t get an immediate answer. Given how he behaves, Naib would’ve thought that this would be an easy question to answer.

Finally, he gets his response. A shadow had crossed over the human’s face for a moment, but it had come and gone so quickly that Naib doesn’t even get to think about it. 

“They call me Norton,” he says, a horrible attempt at a wink following. How strange. The name sounds vaguely familiar in Naib’s mind. He’s distracted from that train of thought, however, by the terrible words that the-human-who-finally-has-a-name utters:

“But you can call me any-”

“Quiet,” Naib says, mentally prepared to throw Norton out the window. Strange familiarity aside, it’s not a bad name. At least amongst the angels, each of them was permitted to choose their own name upon entering their roles: that’s why Naib’s never been ashamed of his own, a reminder of his identity. 

Ultimately, the moment is over and Naib is back to longing for an escape from this purgatory on Earth. He’s never met anyone like this before, and he sincerely hopes he never does again. 

(That’s not entirely true, but no one needs to know that.)

—

Norton’s relieved that Naib doesn’t seem to recognize his name. He supposes if he hadn’t known his face, he probably wouldn’t know his name, but still. He hadn’t expected the question, but now that he’s thinking about it a normal human probably would have introduced themselves earlier. Perhaps he had overdone it a little bit, covering up any suspicions Naib might have had by throwing in some extra pickup lines, but it’s all worth it to see that expression. 

At the time, Norton had debated between giving a fake name or not. On one hand, the rational thing to do would be to lie or not answer at all: he gains pretty much nothing from telling the truth, even risking this tentative relationship of bickering and bantering that has quickly become habitual to him. 

On the other hand, he suspects that Naib himself hadn’t lied when telling his own name, and it doesn’t feel right to betray that sort of trust. Maybe he had had some other motive when telling his name, or maybe he had just thought that there was little risk involved anyway, but the fact of the matter is that Norton can reciprocate those feelings. 

So, ignoring Aesop’s voice that grows increasingly pained in his mind, Norton throws all caution to the wind and gives Naib the true name of the underworld’s prince. 

…Maybe his father has a point when he says he has no impulse control. Nonetheless, Norton gets the feeling that he wouldn’t do this for any pretty angel he meets. For one, Naib’s prettier than all the ones he’s met before, but that’s not the point - no, it’s more about Naib himself. Something about him just radiates trustworthiness, and honestly he’s done nothing to contradict it. Despite everything Norton’s done to get on his nerves, still they sit together, eating raspberry yogurt for breakfast. 

Perhaps it’s just that he’s the first genuinely good person Norton’s met in a while, if ever. 

(Or perhaps it’s the fact that he’s a little too attached to someone he’s only known for such a short time.

A mix of everything, really.) 

It’s kind of stupid how he shivers whenever Naib uses his name. He’s used to hearing his father, his advisors, his subjects, his friends… 

“Prince Norton!”

“Your majesty…”

“My prince?” 

He’d be lying if he said it was just the lack of a title behind his name that made him feel this way. He really does like Naib’s voice, it seems. 

Who knew it was so easy for a demon to get along with an angel? If only he wasn’t so confident of Naib’s identity, maybe Norton would be less hesitant in his every action. If they both came from the same realm, maybe they could have been good friends. 

What a shame that his father would kill him if he knew he was on friendly terms with an angel. They’re not even supposed to be in conflict, but the chaos of the demons has never been compatible with the strict and boring balance that the angels always strive for. 

Despite that, Norton finds that Naib is surprisingly easy to get along with. If he didn’t radiate holy energy, Norton’s sure he wouldn’t even realize that they’re supposed to be fighting.

Terribly bland cereal and half-expired yogurt still tastes better than his daily meals back at home. Here, there’s someone he can talk to, at least. Naib has no expectations of him, no ulterior motive in taking care of him - he’s just here because he wants to be. 

It’s… nice. 

Alas, all good things must come to an end. 

“I have to get going,” Naib says abruptly. “Don’t do anything stupid.” His face twitches for a moment, and he fixes his statement. “Actually, just don’t do anything at all.”

Maybe Norton’s disappointment shows a little too obviously. Naib’s expression softens minutely. 

“I’ll be back soon. Give me a few hours.” With that, he slips on a hoodie and shoes and heads out.

Naturally, Norton begins doing things that are stupid. The moment Naib heads out the door, Norton’s up off of the couch: as he has suspected, an experimental walk across the room suggests that his injuries have more or less healed. With or without his powers, he regenerates fairly quickly. It’s a shame - he finds he doesn’t really want to leave yet. Given that the Underworld is probably already in a state of panic, why not tease them a little more? 

He’s still confined to the space inside the apartment, unfortunately. He’d rather not risk running into Naib while he’s out doing whatever it is that he’s gone for. It occurs to him that maybe Naib’s gone to return to heaven - Norton envies that freedom to come and go without repercussions. Even so, he’s freer inside than he ever was in the palace. 

There are a few rooms to explore, so he starts with the furthest one from where he is now. It becomes immediately obvious that this is Naib’s roommate’s room: the bedsheets and wallpaper share a pattern with the blanket Naib had brought him earlier. Someone must really like owls. 

Nonetheless, it’s still neat and organized. He probably doesn’t come here too frequently - well obviously, given that the angelic realm is frequently praised for its many wonders - as there’s a layer of dust covering the minimal furniture. Looking closer, one of the few personal items in here is a framed photograph: it’s a picture of Naib looking a little younger beside a taller man wearing a blindfold. That’s not where the eccentricities end: he also dons a white cloak, yet the intimidating appearance contradicts the wide smile on his face. The two of them stand together, Naib looking vaguely confused at the concept of a selfie. 

This must be the Clark that Naib talks about, then. Norton feels like he’s seen him before, but there are enough odd nuts in heaven that he can’t be sure. 

The next room manages to be even more bare than the last: beige walls, white sheets, a small desk, a chair, and a drawer. It feels more like a prison cell than a bedroom, but further investigation shows that it’s probably Naib’s room rather than a guest room. Inside the drawer is a variety of clothing that Norton doesn’t really need to know about.

As he’s about to leave, though, he notices another photograph at the back of the drawer. Interest piqued, he pulls it out - it doesn’t look like it’s intentionally been placed there, but Naib must either have not noticed it or forgotten about it. Blowing the dust off, he blinks for a few seconds. 

It’s another picture of Naib, dressed sharply in a suit that he pulls off quite well, but beside him…?

Norton nearly chokes on his own spit. He may not have recognized Naib when they met, but he sure as hell recognizes this face. He remembers his father introducing him to her, making him grovel at her feet and sing her praises. It had felt humiliating back then, but he had soon learned to respect Archangel Behamfil’s ungodly strength and strategic prowess. 

Who is Naib really, this allegedly low-ranking nobody who acts with unwarranted confidence and is somehow close enough with the Archangel Behamfil to have pictures with her arm wrapped around his shoulder? 

Just as Norton begins to think he should be reevaluating his earlier assessment of Naib, he hears the sound of the door opening from afar. 

Oh hell.  

—

It really is no use. Naib’s going insane, looking anywhere and everywhere. He’s double-checked, triple-checked, quadruple-checked - everywhere that the demon could have spawned in the nearby vicinity, he’s gone and visited. 

Yet here he is, notably empty-handed without a demon to return to its rightful place in Hell. There’s no way just any demon could get away without him detecting them, nor with such speed. Still, he doubts that someone so powerful - a member of the monarchy, say - would be wasting their time in the human realm. 

He should probably just give up at this point. Maybe the demon overestimated their abilities and managed to die at the hands of human technology - now that would be embarrassing. It’s a small mission, just something Martha had thrown at him while drowning in her own duties she needed to accomplish. Yet it’s precisely because it’s something so small and forgettable that Naib feels the need to complete it: if he can’t do something so trivial, after all, how could he ever show his face as someone Martha trusts? 

He sighs. It’d probably be a good idea to call Clark down for assistance. He’d rather not make a big deal of things, but Clark is less busy than everyone else and also likely to help without question. It is undoubtedly one of many things he appreciates about their friendship: they’re close without being overly close, able to understand the concept of boundaries while still being able to lean on one another when necessary. 

Naturally, Norton is the exact opposite. Naib doesn’t know why his mind heads straight to that headache in such an irrelevant situation, yet here he is. Something about the annoying human just imprints itself in his mind. No boundaries, no concept of personal space or privacy… it’s not something he’s ever experienced before.

Strangely, Naib finds himself a little happy about having someone to head home to. The moment he realizes the direction his thoughts are heading, he flushes and wills the thoughts to leave. How is Norton managing to toy with him from all the way back home?

Checking his watch, he feels an ever-growing sense of despair at the amount of time that has passed. He had promised to return in a matter of hours, and while he’d like to keep looking around, he doesn’t want to come home to a starving and/or dead Norton. He’s not sure if that man has any self-preservation instincts at all, and he doesn’t want to find out the hard way. 

Completing one last sweep in the hopes that he’ll be able to find something, Naib decides it’s time to take a break. After he scrounges up another meal for the two of them and changes Norton’s bandages again, he’ll give Clark a call and look around in the evening together. Clark’s eyes have always been terrifyingly discerning, which is why his appointed role is to be the judge of truth - none can get away with lying to him. With that said, most of the souls that angels have ascended tend to be fairly honest and well-behaved, but here and there there’s a misjudged bad apple among the bunch, and that’s what Clark is for. 

Naib makes his way back to the apartment around the afternoon, thoroughly dishevelled and longing for another nap like the one he had taken earlier. Once he’s seen the appeal of sleep, there’s no going back. 

Creaking the door open so as to not disturb Norton, Naib makes his way inside and is ready to crash onto his bed when - 

“Subedar?”

At least one thing has gone right for him today.

“Clark? What’re you doing here?”

Or not, he realizes, remembering that he’s keeping a human in their shared apartment without informing him. And also that he forgot to clean up the blood that Norton smeared everywhere. 

Well, it’s been a nice life. 

— 

A few hours earlier: 

“Subedar? Where are you? Lady Gilman sent me just in case you needed my help tracking down your wayward demon.”

Subedar? That’s not a name Norton knows, but Lady Gilman’s is one that he sure as hell does know. Naib’s connections in high places just don’t stop coming, do they? 

More importantly, this voice is very distinctively not Naib’s. He hears discontent mumbling as whoever this person is enters the room Norton had been resting in just moments ago. 

“I’ve told you a million times, honestly! If you intend on making a mess, at least clean up after yourself. One of these days…” The voice trails off, heading too far away for Norton to hear. 

“Oh? What’s this? If you like my blankets, you could just tell me that.” There’s a soft chuckle that ends abruptly. “Or not. Subedar, are you in here?” The voice is deadly calm. “Would you like to tell me why my blanket is covered in blood?”

Norton winces, but after a few moments pass by in silence, the voice goes on. “Guess you must be out, then. Always so diligent.” Inexplicably, Norton’s heart warms a little at the praise towards Naib. It’s short-lived, though, as the footsteps steadily approach in Norton’s direction. Frantically searching for an escape plan, he comes up with nothing: he’s trapped in Naib’s room with a single door to escape from. Said door is currently unavailable, as any attempt to leave will definitely alert this other person to his presence. 

(Shouldn’t he at least have a window or something in case of a fire? Norton knows that angels have a similar kind of supernatural strength to him, but they’re hardly impervious to nature’s attacks when in human form, and it’s not like this entire apartment only houses angels. What if Naib and Clark decide to move out someday?)

This side tangent is interrupted by the voice calling out again.

“Subedar, are you in your room or did you leave the light on?”

Well. 

Norton’s dead, isn’t he?

All he can do is pray to whatever higher deity may or may not exist as a figure that he recognizes from an earlier-examined photograph opens the door. Time slows down as they both acknowledge one anothers’ presences. 

Here he is, in a half-stranger’s bed, covered in bandages and holding a photograph in his hand. 

There Clark is, the same blindfold on as was present in the picture. 

Maybe if he’s quiet enough Clark won’t notice him crawling away. 

“Hey, what are you doing?” The voice has lost its fond edge, cold and alert now. No luck there, then. Norton stands up, now sweating profusely and avoiding eye contact. 

If he doesn’t answer, maybe Clark will think he’s a hallucination. 

“Hold on…” The angel frowns at him. He’s not sure if he can see with the blindfold on, but given their proximity, Norton would unfortunately have to guess that that is a yes. 

Seconds pass by far too slowly. Norton has never felt so intimidated by a man with such godawful fashion taste. 

Clark’s lips form an o-shape. When he speaks, he is deceptively calm, icy tones ringing throughout the room. 

“Your father has been looking everywhere for you, your highness. ”

Right. How could he have forgotten? Just because Naib didn’t recognize him doesn’t mean that his brethren wouldn’t. Just because Naib would have mercy on a dying stranger doesn’t mean that his brethren would. He should’ve run the moment he heard about another roommate: it’s not worth the risk, given his current state. 

He had been having a little too much fun. Of course part of him had known that the disappearance of his father’s only heir would cause a stir once they found it out. Even Aesop’s efforts wouldn’t be enough to stop the kingdom from falling into a panic - thankfully, it’s highly unlikely they’ll be checking the human realm for him. 

Still, he finds he hasn’t budged on his earlier thoughts. He really doesn’t want to leave, not while there’s still someone here that interests him.

Clark purses his lips. “Did you get into a fight with Subedar? I didn’t think he paid enough attention to politics to immediately engage in battle at first sight, especially not with your current appearance.”

“You don’t sound particularly worried about him.” 

Clark chuckles. “Him? Losing to you? Perhaps you’d have a fair chance in a few millenia. No, I think it’s far more likely that you were injured by a third party, and that poor fool found you and couldn’t stop himself from healing you up.” He clicks his tongue. “Too kind for his own good, but at least he has his strength to fend off those who would take advantage of it.” 

Norton’s pride has been struck in a great many ways in such a short time. Frankly, he’s offended at how accurate Clark’s interpretation of events is. 

Between them, the tension is unbearably thick. Neither of them makes a move to do anything, but they know that something has to be done. They stare one another down - if Clark harbours animosity against him and tries to get into a fight, at least Norton has the upper hand as a demon. Angels are bound by law not to use their powers in the human world, but the demons have never been so foolish as to restrain themselves in such an absurd fashion. He might be in a weakened state, but the moment he taps into his energy reserves that he’s slowly been building up, he should be able to take a low-rank angel. 

Just as the moment reaches its climax, the door to the apartment creaks open again. Norton’s never been more appreciative of Naib’s impeccable timing, though the situation they find themselves in is less than ideal. Is this it, then?

Maybe not. Clark pushes him with an amount of force that Norton hadn’t thought that someone so seemingly slim would be capable of, maneuvering him back to the couch in record times. They shift together, Clark holding him down despite his struggling.

“ Stay still ,” he whispers harshly, glancing back to make sure Naib hasn’t seen them yet. “Do you want to arouse his suspicions? He left you here, so this is where he expects to find you.”

Huh.

For one, are there cameras in here or is Clark just absurdly good at reading the situation? They’ve barely said anything to one another and he’s already deduced Norton’s short-term goals.

Also, why isn’t he immediately outing him to Naib? Clark definitely doesn’t seem like he’s on his side, yet here he is, greeting Naib like the two of them aren’t casually housing one of the most powerful forces of their detested counterparts in their very own apartment complex. 

“Welcome home, Subedar!” Another thing: he calls him Subedar rather than Naib. A nickname? A surname? “Where have you been?”

“...Huh?” Naib sounds wary of Clark - scared, even, which is valid. “You know. Business.” He makes vague hand gestures, unsubtly trying to morph his face into something that vaguely resembles a wink. 

Ah. This is interesting. Mapping it out, here’s what it looks like:

He knows Subedar and Clark’s identities. Clark knows he knows, and also knows his own identity. Subedar doesn’t know Norton’s identity and believes Norton doesn’t know his either, and he and Clark both know this. 

It’s a headache to process, but nobody’s talking to him so Norton has ample time to recollect himself after everything he’s seen just today. 

Clark, at least, plays along. “Business, is it?” He smiles brightly. “Does this business have anything to do with picking up strange men and bringing them back home without letting me know?”

Naib and Norton share a collective gulp, despite the fact that Norton already knows that Clark’s aware of the situation. If only they weren’t meant to oppose one another, he feels they might get along over their shared enjoyment of teasing Naib. Clark reminds him a bit of Aesop, something of a whimsical attitude combined with an inherent inability to lose one’s cool.

“It’s not like that,” Naib says hastily. “I would never-”

“You know, there’s no shame in letting a little romance colour your life. I would never judge you if it made you happy.”

This conversation, while truly fascinating, is also one that Naib very clearly needs Norton’s assistance in. 

Naturally, Norton does not interject and instead continues to watch from the sidelines. 

“Really, Clark…” Naib grumbles. “I just brought him home because he was injured and looked helpless. There’s nothing more than that.”

The words, though true, hurt a little. Realistically speaking, Norton knows that he’s nothing but a pity case to Naib - he’s known that from the start, but still he would have liked to believe that his interest could be two-sided. 

“Of course, of course.” Clark hums disbelievingly. “In any case, it’s been a while. Have you eaten yet? I brought lunch, but I had not assumed it would take so long for me to arrive. Why don’t you introduce your new friend to me while we eat?” 

They say the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, but Norton’s never seen this so accurately applied in practice than right now. Naib practically glows, and it’s hilarious that someone so stoic is capable of looking so… innocent. It’s doing things to Norton’s heart that he hadn’t even realized were possible. 

“I haven’t had your cooking in so long,” Naib says, already running over to go grab Norton. “This is Norton. He was bleeding out on the ground when I found him!”

Clark raises his eyebrows at him, and whether it’s because he revealed his name to Naib or because he was indeed correct about his assumptions, Norton’s not sure. Most likely it’s a mix of both. His resemblances to Aesop really just don’t end.  

“ Hngh ,” Norton vocalizes very articulately. “You make it sound like I’m weak.”

“Aren’t you?” Naib snickers. “Would you have preferred that I left you there?”

“On the contrary, I’m ever blessed to have met an angel like you. My life is yours, my saviour.” Norton is absolutely just trying to get a rise out of Naib, but hey - it works. He had had an inkling of a suspicion earlier, but now it’s very clear that, despite appearances, Naib is very easily embarrassed. He’s definitely going to be exploiting this. 

“Hm. Uh, yeah.” Naib looks away, scratching his neck, and a quick peek at Clark shows that the other angel is trying his best not to laugh. His lips quiver in an almost-smile, and Norton thinks that maybe he won’t be too bad after all. 

“In any case,” Clark chirps, “let’s eat.”

—

All things considered, this is going a lot better than Naib had thought it would. Clark’s reaction to Norton’s presence was a lot less extreme than he had thought - the two of them almost seem to be getting along, which makes Naib happy for some inexplicable reason. Naturally, he still gets a scolding in both verbal form and through very meaningful eye contact, but Clark hasn’t even kicked Norton out, so it’s a win in his eyes.

There are still negatives to balance out the positives, of course. Everything Norton says is suddenly ten times more flustering now that Clark is here to witness it and smile at him every time. Even angels are not immune to gossip and scandals, and while Clark isn’t usually the type to get involved in such things, Naib knows he’s wanted him to have someone special for a while now. 

(It’s only gotten worse now that he’s pretty sure Clark’s found someone too. While it’s not exactly a secret, Clark hasn’t exactly been broadcasting his personal life to the world, but Naib is close enough to him to detect the small changes in his behaviour. He’s happy for his friend, but…) 

Really? Norton? It’s true that Clark is very good at judging things within seconds of observation, but Naib can’t deduce for the life of him why he thinks Norton is the one.

Wholeheartedly ignoring Naib’s own traitorous thoughts that he just can’t seem to hold back every time he hears Norton’s laugh, the thought of Clark approving of Norton? Absurd.

At least this way he doesn’t have to worry about picking sides between one of his closest friends and the freeloader who has somehow wormed his way into his heart. If anything, it feels more like the two of them have sided against him: Norton goes in for the attack, Clark shoots him a smug look, and Naib can’t do anything but make a fool of himself, stumbling over his words in an attempt to stay cool. 

“You know, you’re very lucky to get to live with someone like Naib.” The words themselves are innocent, but Norton’s expression is decidedly not.

“Oh, I wouldn’t know about that.” Clark chuckles into his hand. “Perhaps he’s been behaving better for you, but whenever I’m around to clean up after him…” 

Naib is getting a very disconcerting feeling that this is how humans feel when introducing their partner to their parents. He would very much like a time-out - he’s beginning to disconnect from reality. 

“I’m going to go use the washroom,” he says, rejoicing at his brilliant plan of escape. 

Now to try and recover his sanity in a few minutes on the toilet seat and to think about anything but the words Norton says - surely deliberately chosen to tease him. 

He doesn’t mean it . 

This is still little comfort, given that it doesn’t change how Naib is affected by every little wink and smile. God, he’s hopeless, isn’t he? If only he had left Norton to bleed out, he wouldn’t be having this internal crisis. 

—

The moment Naib leaves, Clark’s smile fades slightly.

“He told you his name?” 

For some reason, Norton feels the urge to defend Naib. It’s hardly his fault that Norton is pushy and stubborn at best. 

“I doubt he knows what I’m capable of. And I wouldn’t use it against him.”

Clark frowns at him. “It’s strange. You’re telling the truth. You’ve been telling the truth this whole time, yet I don’t understand how or why… you really mean it when you say you’re not going to hurt him. You’re the son of the Demon King. Is it not in your nature to despise our kind?” 

It’s a very good question. It is also a question he’s been asking himself since he first saw Naib. Why doesn’t he hate them, given how he’s been raised his whole life? 

(Maybe it’s because, from the start, he’s known that the propaganda they feed him in the kingdom is baseless. The caricature of all angels being emotionless and robotic is just as realistic as the stereotype of all demons being hate-filled creatures. Even just Naib on his own is proof enough that angels have just as much personality and ability to feel as anyone else.

Maybe it all just broke down when he met an angel who would drop everything just to take care of a dying stranger.)

There aren’t enough proper words for him to describe things the way he wants to. Clark is patient in waiting for him, but no matter how hard he thinks, he can’t explain it - not to himself, nor to anyone else. Finally, he gives up. 

“I just don’t.” 

He half expects Clark to snap at him - insolent brat, know your place - but when he looks up, there’s a new clarity in his expression. Instead of the anger he’s used to receiving, there’s a look too gentle to be delivered to a demon. Norton savours it anyway. 

“I think I understand a little better now,” he murmurs. This is delightful news, given that Norton himself doesn’t really understand how his mind works. Unfortunately, Clark refrains from elaborating, continuing to leave him in the dark. 

“Do you?” Norton asks. Clark smiles sagely. 

“I know someone quite a bit like you. Perhaps you even know him. You’re very alike, as far as I can tell.”

It annoys him how cryptic Clark is, but no matter how hard he tries, he can’t pry an answer out of him. Norton is not one to give up easily, but he’s also rather easily distracted. Naib reemerges from the washroom he had retreated into, clearing his throat. 

“Did something happen while I was gone?” he asks. 

“Nothing in particular. Why do you ask?”

“Not sure,” Naib mumbles in between mouthfuls of food. “Just feels like the aura around you two changed a little.”

“Aura? Are you telling me you believe in that astronomy bullshit?” Norton asks, sticking his tongue out and scrunching his face up. The answer should be a tentative yes-no - the astronomy that the humans practice is all made up, but from what he’s heard, the angels practice a similar art of reading the stars. Theirs, naturally, would be significantly more accurate, given their intimate relationship with said stars.

“Don’t twist my words, Norton.” Naib glares at him in warning, and a little electric shock goes down Norton’s spine. It’s really not fair. How come all the angels get to be so effortlessly charismatic? 

( Perhaps it’s just his soft spot for one particular angel speaking, but… hey, there’s no proof of Norton’s stupidity.) 

“Well,” Clark interjects, “I suppose we’ve found something new to bond over together.” 

Naib squints at him questioningly ( so cute ) but Norton suspects that, even if Clark were put into his father’s infamous torture chamber, he wouldn’t crack. It takes a special kind of willpower to be like Clark, unbending and resolute in all that he does. 

“Fine, fine, keep your secrets.” A sulking Naib is not something Norton thought he would ever get to see in his lifetime, so he relishes in the moment while he still can. “It’s been nice catching up, but I should get back to work.”

“I’m afraid it won’t be so easy to get rid of me, Subedar. I’ve come to assist you with your business, as a matter of fact. Your… superiors informed me that my skillset may be helpful.” It’s still kind of surreal to be here, in between two angels, neither of them trying to kill him. Norton’s not really sure why Clark hasn’t told Naib anything yet, but he’s just doing his best to follow along. 

Naib cringes dramatically. “Is this really necessary?”

“Perhaps not necessary, but certainly more efficient. We work quite well together, don’t we?”

“I guess. The sooner we finish this up, the better.”

“I’m glad we’re agreed. Shall we, then?”

Naib and Clark stand up almost simultaneously, and Norton envies just how coordinated they are. Forget a partner, he’d be satisfied with just any friend like this.

“You’re doing better, aren’t you?” Naib asks. “I’m glad.” His slight smile is a shot straight through Norton’s heart. He’ll cherish the rare sight for as long as he lives, which will be a very long time. 

“If you’re comfortable getting up, we’ll leave the leftovers in the fridge in case we’re not back for dinner. You can rest if you want, or… do whatever, I guess. Just don’t go snooping around.” A little too late for that, but he doesn’t need to know that. 

“Alright,” Norton says, still rather dazed. Just as the two of them are leaving, though, Clark coughs. 

“Subedar, if you don’t mind, would you allow Norton and I a moment alone? It won’t be too long.”

Naib looks curious but doesn’t ask. “Okay.” He exits, and Norton listens as his footsteps fade into the distance.

“Well?” It’s interesting how Clark shifts through faces so easily. The laughter he shows to Naib… it’s not false, but it’s careful and deliberate. The same can be said of the threatening role he plays with Norton, another act that must be building up to one grand master plan. 

Clark removes his blindfold for a short moment. Norton raises his eyebrows - his eyes are a startling blue, but they dull in comparison to the bright green Norton’s grown to appreciate. 

“Demon Prince Norton, I’m only allowing you to stay here without any fuss because I know Naib can hold his own. If you lay a finger on him…” He doesn’t need to finish the statement for Norton to know exactly what he should expect. He’s not exactly sure who Clark is, but what little he does know suggest that he’s no one to mess with. 

“And also…” Clark’s voice trails off, as though he’s not sure if he should be saying it, but he continues anyway. Softer and with less murderous intent, he wears a nearly wistful expression. “I think you two would be good for one another. He’s needed someone like you for a while, and even if I think his taste could use some work, I can see why he’s drawn to you.”

“I’ve heard some good things about you, your Majesty. It would be in your best interest not to disappoint.” 

An afterthought:

“You should tell him the truth sooner or later. I won’t intrude on your interpersonal relationship, but Subedar dislikes it when people keep secrets from him.”

Clark doesn’t even leave him room to respond before following Naib elegantly, shutting the door and slipping his blindfold back on in a single fluid motion. 

Well. There’s a lot for Norton to absorb now, isn’t there? He’s got a lot of alone time, at least, to think about everything that’s happened today. 

—

Naib doesn’t need to look behind him to know that Clark’s wider strides are catching up to him. 

“Do you want to explain yourself now that he’s not here anymore?”

“Not really.”

Figures. The one thing Naib can take solace in is the fact that Clark wouldn’t keep secrets about anything truly grave from him. They’re there for one another under the most serious circumstances, but Clark enjoys the little thrills of small secrets, and Naib allows it. 

“Fill me in on what exactly we’re working on?”

Naib frowns. “Shouldn’t Archangel Behamfil have told you about the mission?” 

“Perhaps, but it would be beneficial if you could provide more details.”

He sighs. “It’s just a basic task. Track down a demon who’s been loitering in the human world, stirring up mayhem.” 

“Don’t beat yourself up over it, Subedar. You cannot complete every mission on your own.” As per usual, Clark sees right through him. “Your peers are here to support you if you need it. Where do you suppose the trail ended?”

“Well,” Naib says, thinking, “I remember spawning near our apartment as it wasn’t too far away from the energy source. I had to take a detour to pick Norton up, though.” He winces apologetically. While he knows that it’s not Norton’s fault (even if he was stupid enough to get himself beat up), he can’t help but wonder if he could have found the stray demon if he hadn’t stopped to take care of him. 

Clark, on the other hand, looks like he’s just had an epiphany. Watching him, he hears a barely-audible oh . 

“Any ideas, Clark?” Strange. Usually, when Clark gets like this, he’s all too quick to offer all his ideas. This time, though, he’s uncharacteristically silent, a slight twitch being the only sign of his acknowledgment. 

“Ah. I don’t know.” Little known fact: Clark is terrible at lying. Naib watches his smile strain, his voice pitched comically high. Even if they weren’t long-time friends, Naib would definitely still be very suspicious of him.

Although Clark usually has good reason for things like this, Naib can’t fathom why he would try to sabotage him at this instant, right after telling him that he could rely on him. Perhaps in a different situation, he wouldn’t question him, but…

“Come on. Surely you’ve got something.” The ever-revered seer looks like he’s a few seconds away from whistling , for goodness’ sake. 

“Well, hypothetically speaking…” Clark starts, Naib listening intently. “If I was holding any information from you - which I’m certainly not - it would definitely be for justifiable reasons that you would understand if you were in my position.” In other words: don’t ask, you’ll see eventually.  

Naib’s not good at waiting, but he knows Clark isn’t going to budge on this. Growling in aggravation, he runs his fingers through his hair. “Fine, but sooner or later I would appreciate your assistance. Isn’t that what you’re here for?” 

“Yes, yes,” Clark says airily. “An extra pair of eyes will always be helpful.” He pulls up a map from seemingly nowhere. “Why don’t you check over here?” His finger points at a vague area that Naib’s already visited at least three times before, but it surely wouldn’t hurt to check another time. “We can split up. I can go take a look near the apartment - perhaps we’ve found ourselves someone capable of swift travel. The more spots we guard at once, the less likely they are to escape.”

While Naib isn’t opposed to this plan, something about it bothers him. “You say this as though you’re certain the demon hasn’t already escaped into the Underworld. Are you sure we aren’t just looking for something that’s already gone?”

To his surprise, Clark shakes his head vehemently. “I’m confident that they’re still present.” Unlike earlier, he sounds dead serious. Clark’s word, more often than not, is enough to encourage Naib into persevering. He trusts him, after all.

“Alright then. If that’s the case, then let me know if you find anything.”

“Of course, Subedar. Best of luck to you.” Just like that, they’re both off. 

—

Not ten minutes after the other two leave and Norton finally has some alone time to reevaluate all his life decisions, Clark bursts through the door like a madman. Notably, Naib isn’t present at his side, which Norton picks up on a little too quickly. 

“It’s you, isn’t it?” Clark asks breathlessly, giving off the impression that he ran all the way back here. 

“Huh? What do you mean?” Clark ignores his questions altogether, muttering something under his breath. 

“I can’t believe I didn’t pick up on this earlier. Of course it’s you. And he wouldn’t know, because he doesn’t know any better…” A slight laugh, free from humour.

“Could you please elaborate?” 

The angel shakes his head, but it’s less of a rejection and more of a quirk to clear his head. “See, Subedar is down in the human world in the first place because he’s been searching for an energy source that was detected - namely, a demon stirring up a commotion.”

“Naturally, he doesn’t want to stop until he finds the original source, so as to not disappoint his superiors. But it was you all along - it disappeared shortly after he found you, which is why neither of us found anything after checking over this entire city.” Clark chuckles slightly manically. “He’s looked everywhere except for a certain prince behind him.” 

The mood sobers quickly. “At this rate, he’ll never find his way back home.” Clark chews on his lip in thought. “Since he doesn’t know it’s you, he’ll be searching around the city until the day he dies, especially since I told him the energy source was still present.”

For half a second, Norton entertains the thought of getting to stay with Naib for longer. He shoots down that train of thought, though - it’s not what Naib wants, and Norton has found himself surprisingly weak to the things Naib wants. He’s not downright evil, and he wouldn’t kidnap someone just out of interest in them, but a little part of him still wonders why he cares so much about what Naib cares about.

Sighing heavier than he realized he was capable of, Norton asks the question that he doesn’t really want to know the answer to. 

“Then what’s to be done?”

Clark looks interested for a moment. “You’re surprisingly cooperative.”

“Ideas, Clark?”

“Well, you could simply tell him…” 

…but the repercussions of that would be so grand and utterly counterproductive that it’s immediately out of the question. He’d have to reveal his identity to Naib, who would probably hate him for keeping it a secret and taking advantage of his kindness; he’d probably get turned in and get a scolding from the leaders of both realms; he’d have to abandon these short-lived moments of brief happiness, the prologue to a story Norton’s never had the chance to read before, and return to the stagnation that he’s reluctantly resigned to back home. 

Who would give up all of that?

Norton is not evil, but he is not some selfless saint either. His desires, his goals… they are worth so much to him when nothing else can provide him ample amusement. 

“I suppose that’s a no?” Clark’s eyes aren’t visible, but Norton can tell that he’s being stared down intensely. 

“ You’re surprisingly cooperative,” he echoes. He knows Clark had said earlier that he had wanted him and Naib to befriend one another, but he hadn’t expected him to give in so easily to the idea of making his friend go on a wild goose chase when he holds the answer right in his hands. 

Does he really want to see Naib with a friend that much? Does that say more about Clark’s worrywart tendencies or Naib’s lack of a social life? Either way, it’s concerning. 

“My motives are not yours to discern.” Clark scowls. “I suppose I could simply mislead him and tell him that your trail has disappeared. It isn’t a mistruth, after all.”

The issue with that, however, would be that Naib would have no more reason to stay. With no demon to chase after, why should he remain in the human realm any longer? In the end, this is a losing battle for Norton. He knew from the start that this was a once-in-a-lifetime experience, entirely ephemeral. He’ll just appreciate the angel’s company for their remaining time together before Naib leaves for good. Maybe they’ll even meet again, under different identities. 

Somehow, the thought of that doesn’t sit well with him. Once the two of them return, disregarding the fuss he’ll have to deal with upon his reuniting with the king, they’ll be in opposite realms yet again. A no-name angel, friends with a demon - not to mention a member of the royalty? Unspeakable. Even if they meet again, it won’t be the same. He won’t be able to tell the cheesiest pick-up lines he’s seen in the movies, won’t be able to get smacked gently on the head for his efforts. 

Don’t be difficult, Norton. He should be grateful he’s had this opportunity at all, and yet. 

And yet he looks at Clark and feels transparent, like Clark knows exactly the way he’s questioning himself right now. 

A thin smile forms on his lips. “How about this?” He pulls out a pen and a notepad. Upon the notepad, he scrawls a note. 

Subedar – 

He has been apprehended and is in good hands. I have urgent business to attend to, so I will be departing. However, I have informed Behamfil of Norton’s state. She urges you to take a short break in order to take care of him and yourself. Not an order, but you would be wise to obey, no?

Yours, Eli

“You’re not staying?” Norton hadn’t realized that he could just come down for a visit and then return back to heaven. They’ve only met for such a short time, after all; he had expected Clark to be here for a while. 

“Of course not.” Clark chuckles. “Do you think I have time to idle around here? Subedar’s only being encouraged to stay here because he already overworks himself all too much. Even compared to Archangel Behamfil, he takes on far too many missions. It would be good for his health to take a break here, away from all the action.”

Momentarily, he frowns. “Perhaps it would be better for his mental health if you were not here with him,” he mutters (as though he thinks Norton can’t hear him!). 

But her name has appeared yet again in the conversation, and now Norton is intrigued. This time, he won’t let it go. What is Naib’s connection with Archangel Behamfil, one of few angels whose very name strikes fear into everyone’s heart, be they angel or demon?

Perhaps Clark is a mind-reader. Then again, Norton hasn’t really been doing a good job of hiding his expressions. “I mean her no disrespect, but I do find it rather unfair that the Archangel receives all the praise while Naib is all but forgotten. They’re around the same in terms of strength, anyway.”

Now that is a horrifying thought. Equals? With Archangel Behamfil? Even Norton himself isn’t sure if he could hold his ground against her.

(In hindsight, this may all have been part of Clark’s plan - intricately planned out so that he could finally boast of his friend’s accomplishments. Only a select few are aware of the full extent of Naib’s prowess, and while the man himself doesn’t mind constantly being underestimated, it would not be unlike Clark to gleefully inform one of the most important figures of the Underworld exactly who he’s messing with.)

“Don’t you know his name? Naib Subedar, best friend and right-hand man of Archangel Behamfil, unrivalled in terms of physical strength amongst the entirety of the celestial realm.”

God damn . 

Clark is no slouch either. King of dramatic exits he is, taking a second to relish in Norton’s dumbstruck reaction before exiting out the door in a flash. 

Not so much of a no-name angel after all, huh.

—

A few hours later, Naib returns to the apartment feeling defeated. As if it wasn’t enough to fail enough to spark concern from Lady Gilman and Martha, now he has to come home and inform Clark too of his failure. He knows, he knows, he knows that asking for help is the right thing to do when he’s in over his head, but nothing will ever feel more upsetting than relying on others and still ending up with nothing. 

“Clark? Norton? I’m home.” It’s probably around the late hours of evening, but Naib has never seen Clark sleep and Norton tends to stay up until the strangest hours. He’d like the company of another for a little bit right now. Even Norton’s shallow jokes and jabs are better than the all-consuming silence of the night. 

“Welcome back,” Norton responds groggily from a different room. A dim light glows from beside him, preventing the darkness from surrounding him entirely. That’s something Naib’s noticed since the first day they’ve spent together, though he’s never deigned to comment on it - no matter what time it is, Norton never lets it go completely dark. 

(There’s no euphemism in that statement at all. Nope, not at all.)

“Has Clark not returned yet?” They tend to call him a workaholic, but Clark is just as much of a force to be reckoned with. If he’s lost track of time, Naib will have to go out again to pick him up. While he wouldn’t mind doing that for a friend, he’s reluctant to leave the comfort of his home. The night air tastes like nothing but loneliness when he’s by himself. 

“Oh, he got back a while ago.” Naib’s surprised at that news - Clark’s shoes aren’t in the shoe rack, and he tends to be insistent on not wearing shoes inside. Even disregarding that, he also hasn’t heard any signs of Clark’s presence in his home, and being able to catch Clark in such a vulnerable position such as sleeping would be a minor miracle. 

“Did he? Where is he?” Naib takes his things off, eager for a moment of rest before recharging for the next day. Settling in next to Norton, he’s confused to see that the other avoids eye contact with him, even choosing to squirm away slightly. He’s not usually the one who shies away from skinship, but Norton seems almost intimidated by him. 

“He left a note for you.” Norton crawls away to the other edge of the couch. Naib decides not to think about it too hard. The inner workings of Norton’s mind… well, he’s learned not to dwell on it. 

Scanning over the note, Naib’s eyebrows rise continually. After his tragically pathetic efforts at tracking the demon down, it feels kind of anticlimactic that Clark just… found him? And took him in without telling him? He’s not exactly disappointed, per se - he can set his pride aside to be glad for Clark’s competence, but it all just feels so rushed, like Naib’s days spent here were wasted. 

Maybe not wasted, he thinks, looking at Norton and reading the rest of the note. He tells himself that if it weren’t for Martha’s ‘suggestion’, he’d return immediately, but if she insists he tend to the human… well, he would be a fool to disobey, naturally. 

Regardless, it’s a shame he didn’t get to say his proper goodbyes to Clark. They’re the kind of friends who don’t need to see one another every day to be reminded of their friendship: a week can pass or a decade and they’ll still meet again like nothing’s happened in between. Still, that kind of uncertainty means Naib prefers traditional and proper goodbyes, just in case it’s a while until they meet again. 

In any case, Norton is looking at him with that weird look in his eye again. 

“Is something wrong?”

“No, nothing at all,” Norton squeaks out, a little too fast to be believable. Also, if nothing were truly wrong, Norton would not be caught dead squeaking . 

Naib… isn’t really in the mood to deal with Norton’s shenanigans. He simply lets out a long exhale. “If you say so,” he says tiredly. 

“Are you okay?” Norton asks suddenly, brow furrowed. Oops. Maybe Naib hadn’t been nearly as subtle as he had wanted to be in regards to his general exhaustion. If even Norton is willing to give up on his ploys to inquire towards him, maybe that’s a sign he really does need a break. 

“Just… tired,” he answers, but that answer doesn’t seem to suffice for Norton, whose frown only grows more deep-set. 

“You’ve been working too hard.” Norton’s chiding is matter-of-fact and leaves no room for debate. 

“Maybe I have.”

“Rest,” Norton says, and Naib finds he can’t resist following the order. Just for a moment, he thinks, allowing himself to rest on Norton’s shoulder. Every once in a while, it doesn’t feel too bad to let himself be pampered. 

(In his state, he doesn’t notice the way Norton’s heartbeat races a little faster the moment they make contact with one another.)

—

…Well.

Just for a moment , he tells himself as they fall asleep in a position far too intimate for Naib’s liking, one tired man in the arms of another.

Just for a moment , he tells himself when he wakes up to the smell of something burning, Norton’s undignified screeches coming from the kitchen. 

Just for a moment, he tells himself as he wraps and unwraps Norton’s bandages, a sort of ritual they’ve developed among themselves.

Just for a moment , he tells himself as he remembers Martha telling him to ‘let loose and have some fun’ a long time ago. 

Just for a moment , he tells himself as he finds himself watching Norton with an expression far too close to some sort of disgustingly cloying affection. 

Just for a moment…

It is only when Naib wakes to the feeling of Norton resting on his shoulder and doesn’t even question it that he begins to wonder if things have gone a little too far. Weeks have passed and Norton is as good as new, yet neither of them have brought up his leaving. For the first time in what might just be forever, Naib finds himself not wanting to return to heaven. In a way, he hopes that if they never bring it up, they can stay in this little fantasy land of theirs forever.

Once Norton had recovered well enough to go outside for a duration of time, he had almost immediately dragged Naib out with him, taking him from place to place - amusement parks, movie theatres, libraries, simple sunset views… it’s like Norton was brought to him to teach him the delights of being human. Where this was all just a burden and a job to him in the past, Norton’s painted his world with colour. 

He’s not sure if it’s just coincidence or not, but Clark always seems to appear at the most… inconvenient times (read: when Naib is just about to succumb to his embarrassing internal thoughts and maybe, just maybe reciprocate Norton’s habit of cuddling). At least he doesn’t have to wait too long to meet with him again, though Norton always seems a little grumpy at those times for whatever reason. 

Actually, one time he had dropped by and briefly mentioned some supernatural gossip - luckily, Norton was notably absent, for some reason. 

“Have you heard that apparently the Demon Prince has disappeared from the Underworld?” Somehow, Naib feels like there’s almost an edge of laughter in Clark’s tone, though he can’t quite pick it out. 

“Has he?” Naib’s sure he’s probably heard of him somewhere or somehow, but the knowledge of the Underworld’s monarchy has slipped his mind in the face of everything else he has to remember regularly. Frankly, he doesn’t really care what happens down there as long as they keep their business contained to their kingdom. 

“Indeed, there appears to be a great buzz amongst the demon realm at the moment. The king has done his best to suppress the spread of news, but…” Clark shrugs. “Word spreads quickly. They’re in a state of panic as the king now has no eligible heirs. I imagine there have been all too many assassination attempts, and only more as we speak.”

“I… see,” Naib says. “Should I take note of this?” Clark shakes his head.

“It’s quite alright.” Naib always gets shivers when Clark smiles like this, so innocent from the outside yet so obviously hiding something terrifying. “I suppose I just wanted to bring it up.”

(Naib may not have noticed, but Clark most certainly did see the tuft of hair poking out from behind a conveniently-placed wall.) 

For how different things are from his usual routine, Naib adapts to living with Norton and a brief reprieve from work surprisingly quickly and easily. He gets a call from Martha at some point - it’s short and to the point, as she usually chooses to be, but he cherishes the scarce few minutes anyway.

“Hey Naib. I hope you’re carrying out the orders that the Seer gave you?”

“Of course,” he responds, smiling slightly. “I would never dare disobey you.” Though the words are true, it’s also a running joke between the two due to the drastic gap in their positions.

“That’s good.” In his mind, her face softens. “You don’t have to hurry back. I know you promised we would meet up sometime, but you have to take care of yourself first.” Their connection wobbles slightly as Martha’s concentration falters. When her focus is back, she looks significantly less light-hearted. 

“Sorry, Naib. I have to go now, but I’ll see you once you think you’re ready.” Her phrasing is strange, but somehow it makes perfect sense to him. “Introduce me to your new friend sometime,” she adds cheekily, and Naib makes a mental note to interrogate Clark on exactly what he’s been telling her. 

Really, things are a little too easy. He blinks, and it’s been weeks. Blinks again, and a couple months have passed and Norton’s presence in his life has just become a sort of constant - they fall into one another so naturally that he can’t find it in himself to question it. 

Even if letting Norton into his kitchen is a perpetual fire hazard. 

—

Norton hasn’t felt so free in so long. Every passing day, he forgets a little more about why he has to go back at all. Here, he’s never walking on eggshells. Here, no one knows who he is - other than their neighbours, who now all know him as a walking calamity… but that’s hardly the point. Here, he’s only the ruler of a tiny apartment, but he feels more him than he ever has as prince of an entire realm. 

Honestly, he’s surprised that Naib hasn’t already kicked him out. They both know he’s recovered perfectly well at this point, yet they dance around the thought of him leaving. Norton decides he’s just going to savour every moment until Naib says it’s time to go. 

(Clark drops by randomly to leave things at the apartment and shoot those infuriatingly knowing looks in Norton’s direction. He knows full well that Clark had been talking to him when he had brought up the disappearance of the Demon Prince, although he didn’t seem to have any intent in pushing him away. Perhaps that’s just his way of informing Norton of the current state of affairs.)

It starts on an ordinary day, as extraordinary things tend to do. He wakes up in the bed that Naib reluctantly shares with him whenever he screams out in the middle of the night, illusions of his father’s voice in his crueler moods appearing in his mind. 

( “You? My son, a demon , afraid of the dark? Do not be a fool.” )

Of course, Naib is already up and awake, the smell of coffee utterly enchanting from a few rooms away. Naib is a tea person, but after the two of them stopped by a cafe at one point, Norton’s learned to appreciate the holiness of caffeine, so there’s always one mug for tea and another for coffee. 

(He distinctly recalls, a few days after their trip, Naib returning home with a coffee machine in hand. He had grumbled something about a sale before gently placing it down, and that was the moment Norton began to wonder if he wasn’t the only one having fun with this little charade.) 

Rubbing at his eyes, he registers Naib’s presence in the kitchen. “G’morning.” He yawns, desperate for a sip of the coffee that Naib has so generously prepared for him. It’s taken a while, but he’s starting to get used to this kindness, this thing that shows up in the strangest ways (like a wordless hand extended to him, soft pats to his hair). 

“Morning,” Naib responds in turn, a book in hand. It’s… a poetry anthology, which is not something that Norton would expect him to be reading. Then again, Naib has been squinting at the same page for several minutes now, so it’s probably not his usual choice of literature either. 

Poetry reminds him of Aesop. They haven’t gotten to talk in a while, mostly due to Norton’s sudden disappearance. Still, even if he hadn’t decided to go exploring in the human world that one fateful day, who knows if Aesop would have decided to visit? He may be a demon, but he doesn’t really act like one - not particularly loyal to one side or another, which Norton can respect. Once, he thought he saw his silhouette standing near Clark during one of his visits, but it must have been a trick of his mind. 

Thinking of Aesop, though, makes him think of the life he’s left behind, even if only for a short time. He’s gotten better at forgetting when every day as a human is fresh and interesting , nothing being boring when he has Naib keeping him company. He’s still got so much to learn, like why he feels his heart race when Naib offers one of his growing-more-frequent smiles, or why his hand burns when their fingers accidentally brush against one another.

These are feelings that he likes, things that make him feel at home. Yet still he thinks of the place that he should call home, a place that he does and doesn’t miss at the same time. In comparison to the thousands of years he’s spent in the demon realm, these few months are laughably short, most of his memories still taking place in that dreary darkness - but the memories he’s made here are of so much more value, each one a precious treasure he holds dear. 

How very sentimental of him. It must be the lack of coffee in his system, he thinks, as he seats himself next to Naib and peeks over his shoulder before finding himself uninterested and focusing on breakfast instead. 

Yes, it is always when everything feels so peacefully ordinary that the extraordinary things occur. 

Norton’s too busy thinking of where they’re going to go and what they’re going to do today to feel the distinctive demonic aura surrounding them slowly. Maybe Naib notices with the way he twitches, but then that could also just be his instinctive response to any unfamiliar sensations. 

He’s grown rusty - Norton doesn’t react nearly fast enough to the sudden attack, a spike of dark energy piercing through him. His body is strong but not invulnerable ( as he knows all too well ), and he buckles under the pain.

Naib’s eyes widen in panic. “Norton?” he exclaims, quickly setting everything down and scanning their surroundings for threats. Not around us , Norton wants to say, but his voice is too weak to reach him.

Below us.

The foundation of the apartment building shakes, something that could easily be mistaken for an earthquake to some unsuspecting mortal. Norton knows better, of course - he’s evaluating just exactly who it could be attacking them and why when he feels a jolt through him. Call it a premonition or a sixth sense, but Norton knows somehow that the next attack will target Naib. 

He acts faster than he thinks, pushing Naib out of the way and taking yet another spike of damage. This time, he can’t hold back a scream of pain, yet it’s at that very instant that Norton knows that he’s let himself go too far. Sacrificing himself for another is not something he’d let himself get caught dead doing so short a time ago, yet here he lies, bleeding out in a body that cannot immediately heal itself. 

Even his cold heart knows that this isn’t something he’d do for just anyone. Funny how it takes getting stabbed twice over to realize the sad truth:

Norton Campbell, prince of all things dark and demonic, has fallen for this angel. Hard.

Well, shit.  

Distantly, he registers Naib crying out his name again. Norton doesn’t blame him for not being fast enough to act - he’s probably not used to all his opponents fighting dirty. Norton, on the other hand, has been born and raised to expect surprise attacks from every direction. 

Thankfully, their assailant is definitely someone who values making a point more than delivering them swift and fatal deaths. In that case…

“Show yourself, coward,” he growls. What a fool he had been to think that he could stay in peace like this forever. 

“Well, well, well.” A sour-sounding voice fades into existence, and Norton cringes as he sees the face it belongs to… 

Wow. He has no idea who this is.

“It wouldn’t take a genius to realize you’ve holed yourself up in the human world.” A cackle - either a demon, then, or an angel who really doesn’t care for social norms. It’s not like Norton can go around stereotyping everyone when he knows too many living examples of the contrary. “What a perfect situation you put yourself in, Campbell. So vulnerable, so very mortal .”

Naib looks… not afraid, per se, which is fair - he knows enough to know that he could take a demon like this without breaking a sweat if he was in his angel form. Which is a bit of a problem, because neither of them have access to their true forms, albeit for different reasons. Even so, Naib in his human form will definitely be able to put up a fight too. 

No, he looks less afraid of the demon and more afraid of what he’s saying, which is the worst-case scenario for Norton. He knows he was going to tell him one day, but he had wanted to tell his secret under his own conditions, circumstances he had chosen himself. Instead, here he is, lying on the ground in a situation that feels a little bit too much like deja vu. 

Helpless and with extremely limited mobility, he can only watch as Naib does his best to dodge the probably-demon’s attacks. Unfortunately, the situation they’re in is stacked greatly against them, and it’s only a matter of time before Naib takes a hit. Not like this, they can’t get close to him.

“You’ve gone soft, prince . All this for an angel?” The demon whose name he does not remember sneers at him, but all Norton sees is red. No way in hell is he losing his life to someone so… unimportant.

Think, Norton. Stay cool and find a solution.

Suddenly, he remembers something Aesop told him in passing some time ago, random and unprompted as is his usual style.

Although angels are bound by their laws, there are still loopholes that can be exploited. For example…

An angel cannot access their powers alone in the human world, but if they were under the possession of a particularly strong demon…? 

Norton knows he promised that he wouldn’t use Naib’s name against him, but right now this is for both their sakes. Thank goodness possession only requires eye contact and a name. He’s too weak to do anything by himself, after all - it should be an honour that Naib has managed to make him abandon his pride and rely on his power. Something still eats at him, but he pretends he doesn’t notice. He’ll let himself feel the guilt after the battle is over.

“Naib Subedar,” he hisses, power coursing through his voice despite the injuries his flesh form sustains. “I command you. Rise with your true power and fight.”

Naib watches him in confusion, likely still reeling from everything that’s happened in so short a time. His attention must be diverted by the sensation of his celestial abilities returning to him in his human form - quite possibly something he’s never felt before, all things considered. Even if he isn’t the most observant, Norton still knows that Naib isn’t stupid. If he hasn’t pieced things together already, he soon will. 

( Don’t think about it. Not now. )

Bound by the force of his name and Norton’s magic-imbued words, it hardly takes any time at all for the demon to collapse under Naib’s terrifying power. He’s almost scary to watch - he had taken Clark’s word for it when he had said that he bore power equal to Archangel Behamfil’s, but it’s one thing to simply know a fact and another to witness it in action. Naib is fast, faster than any of Norton’s trainers or acquaintances. He fights like he was born for combat, entirely impervious to the attacks that the demon sends out in waves. 

“Mother fucker ,” Norton thinks he hears before knocking the demon onto his knees, “how dare you hurt him?”

Altogether, not a bad thing to pass out to. 

—

The moment he’s restrained the demon with his renewed energy, he turns to the direction Norton collapsed in. The scene in front of him looks frightfully familiar, an echo of a time so short and yet so long ago when he didn’t even know Norton’s name. 

He nursed Norton back to health that time, but when the circumstances are like this, his injuries the result of some supernatural meddling… Naib shivers, a chill going down his spine. He cannot prevent death, only guide the spirits of the dead to their resting places. 

Naib tries not to think about it, but his mind then near-instantaneously jumps to watching Norton jump in front of him, taking an attack meant for him. Nothing makes sense. What had that demon been prattling on about, talking nonsense to Norton? How had Norton known where the second attack would come from?

(Why had he sacrificed himself to protect Naib?)

He might not know what it all means, but he does know enough to understand that this is at least partly his fault. The very thought of Norton perishing, slowly dying in a way that Naib can’t prevent… it sickens him. What will he do with the spare coffee maker that he never uses for himself? With the third set of blankets bought just to suit Norton’s picky tastes? With his newly developed taste for the same foods that Norton adores?

Naib won’t allow this. He will not allow this preventable mistake to take away one of the few things he - cherishes?

(He can’t say it, won’t say the word that he’s looking for right now. Not in this situation. Once Norton is awake again - once , not if - he’ll subject himself to all the teasing in the world if it means Norton will get to know… well.)

But… what does he do? For everything he’s witnessed in battle beside Martha, he’s feeling unsteady and unconfident as he feels for Norton’s pulse - still present, thank god, but shallow and dangerously slow. He flicks his wrist experimentally, but it seems the miracle burst of returned magic has fizzled out. There’s no taking the easy way out of this one, then.

Naib is a fighter, not a healer. His idea of healing others, indeed, is to destroy all threats before they can reach their target. Still, he’s not sure what to do here - his hands feel so clumsy as he tries to mimic things he’s seen Dyer the alleged ‘battlefield medic’ do in the past. 

You’re making it worse, a taunting voice in his head sings. It’s your fault he ended up like this in the first place, and now you’re going to deal the killing blow.

Not now. He can’t afford to let his insecurities win this one: a single hesitation could cost him everything. He’s lost enough allies to his weakness, after all. What can he do but keep charging forward, trying to fix everything in the present? 

A soft voice from behind him huffs in discontent. Naib recoils in his efforts to stop the bleeding, cursing himself for not noticing an intruder. Shit . He could take that one demon, but now that his powers have gone away again, he’s in no state to last another battle… but he can’t give up now. Protecting Norton and keeping him alive long enough to meet with Dyer or Lady Gilman or anyone better than him at healing is his number one priority. 

“Don’t touch him,” Naib snarls, trying his best to shield Norton with his body. “He’s just a human. He has nothing to do with… whatever you’re here for.”

The intruder is wearing a face mask, an interesting fashion choice. This has the unfortunate side effect of Naib being entirely unable to discern his reaction or facial expressions, but at least he doesn’t immediately act with hostility. 

“Just a human?” he parrots, the arch of his eyebrow suggesting contempt. “Honestly, how does Eli deal with you…” His voice turns a shade fond there. “Well, perhaps I can understand a little.” 

Somehow, as the stranger approaches, Naib feels his will to fight leaving him. The impact of the earlier battle is taking its toll on him at the least convenient time - he can’t protect Norton like this! He makes a last-ditch effort to lash out, but the masked man catches his weakly thrown fist easily. 

“Your protectiveness is endearing but unnecessary.” His voice is cutting and calm. “I won’t hurt him. You have my word.”

“Your word… doesn’t mean…” Naib tries to finish the sentence, but he is unimaginably tired.

Another huff, this time more impatient. “Eli… that is, Clark - he was the one who told me to come here. If you won’t trust me, trust him.”

Clark? That’s… weird. This man isn’t human, that’s obvious enough. He can’t be an angel, either, not with the way he carries himself - besides, Naib doesn’t recognize him at all. A demon, then? But how would a demon know Clark? And why would he be here, patching up Norton with the expression of an exasperated caretaker?

Naib gets the feeling he’s witnessing something he shouldn’t as the stranger speaks to Norton in hushed tones. “You could have told me you wanted to leave,” he murmurs as he applies bandages and infuses his own healing magic into it. “Really, there was no need to cause such a ruckus.” He can’t tell, but Naib thinks the stranger might be smiling a little. 

They sit there for a while, Naib watching in awkward silence as the masked man continues softly berating Norton. Finally, once the worst of it is over, the man glances his way.  

In lieu of anything reasonable, the man sets Norton down gently and walks over to Naib. 

“You love him.”

It is not a question. 

Naib scowls but doesn’t deny it. Is he so obvious that the first person to break into his apartment can pick it out on his face?

The stranger hums. “He won’t want you worrying too much over him.” His eyebrows furrow. “Actually, he might. He’ll want you to care, but not so much that you hurt yourself. He’s so prideful and so childish at once.”

The way he talks makes it obvious that he knows Norton. “What makes you say that?” Naib asks carefully. 

The demon(?) sighs. “You really don’t know who you’ve been harbouring under your roof all this time?”

Naib frowns. What’s that supposed to mean? Is Norton some kind of celebrity, or what? It must irritate the stranger to have to spell it out for him, but he does it anyway. 

“You see, you’ve fallen in love with the second most important person in all of the Underworld. Perhaps you should be kneeling to Prince Norton Campbell.”

Hm.

Hm.

Hm?

Hmmm?

Hmmmmm?

That is effectively all Naib’s brain provides in face of that news. He’s aware he must be gaping, but his eyes keep darting from Norton’s unconscious form to the stranger back to Norton again. 

Him? A prince? Laughable, really. And a demon at that… Unbelievable. 

Except. 

Demons can control others through the usage off their true names - which Naib had thrown at him, too tired to come up with a lie at that time.

( Idiot , he can hear in a lot of people’s voices.)

And Clark had just looked at him pityingly when Naib had hissed at him for being too loud, we’re living with a human now you can’t just talk about being an angel .

And Norton had stiffened very uncharacteristically one of those few times Naib decided to play along with him and call him his prince. 

The tiniest details are returning to him just to humiliate him, asking him how he could have been so blind to the truth all this time. 

Naib stares at Norton, who apparently never thought to tell him that he was both a fellow immortal and also an extremely important figure in the demon realm. 

The Demon Prince is right here, lying but metres away from him, someone Naib has learned to appreciate as part of his life. 

What.

—

When Norton comes to, it’s not to Naib’s coffee, but rather to Aesop’s tired face.

“Took you long enough,” Aesop comments, almost managing to disguise his worry - almost being the keyword, because Norton has known him for longer than he’s known almost anyone, and he can see how his fingers just barely tremble.

Norton, too, is worried for a moment. Where is he? Where is Naib? Why is Aesop even here? He scans his surroundings quickly, praying he hasn’t landed back in the demon realm without a chance to say what will probably be his final goodbyes to the human life he shared with Naib. 

(He thinks of the stray cat that the two of them would sometimes see, unnamed but adored by both of them all the same. He’d never get to say goodbye to him, either.)

His heart thumps in his chest, a foreign emotion ringing true in his entirety: he’s never had something to lose like this before. Still, he calms down a little at the familiar sight of the apartment around him. At least he’s still here, still far enough away from his father’s wrath… and Naib had disposed of the demon while Aesop wouldn’t tell on him, so he’s still in hiding. 

Speaking of Naib. 

Oh hell, he knows.

Murky memories resurface as Aesop watches him carefully. His desperate last-ditch attempt at having something work out for him once… the look Naib had sent his way, full of heat and energy. Clark had said that Naib hates it when people keep secrets from him, and now he’s reaping what he’s sowed. 

Most notably, he can’t hear that light humming that Naib blesses his ears with every morning when he thinks Norton’s asleep. Panic grips him again - what if he’s left? Run away from you after realizing how terrible you are after all? Is Aesop here to take me back?

“Relax, Norton. He has just gone out to restock on supplies for you.” Aesop looks at him in amusement, allowing him to stop expecting the worst. If Aesop can find it in him to make fun of him for his impeccable taste in men, then Norton doesn’t need to worry too much.

“In fact, Subedar should be back right about now.” Aesop closes his eyes right as the door is forcefully kicked open, the pile of all the things Naib’s brought home exceeding his own height. He hears a shit as Naib likely trips over something he can’t see and laughs to himself. 

…He stops once Aesop shoots him a judgemental look that speaks volumes. You’re hopeless, he can practically hear in his friend’s voice. 

“I’m back,” Naib says, hurrying to place things down. “How is he doing?” 

“Hmm,” Aesop vocalizes. “Why don’t you see for yourself?” He vanishes in a snap of his fingers, and Norton blinks before he remembers - right , they can use their powers now that it’s not a secret anymore. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Naib asks, striding over to where Norton still lies despite the chanting inside his head that goes no no no no no not good - 

“Honestly, that guy.” Naib mutters something under his breath that Norton doesn’t catch, but he’s sure it’s probably something… colourful in regards to Aesop. When one has had eternities to get used to it, his friend’s eccentricities are just part of his nature, but he supposes that Aesop’s rather unique personality can be difficult to grasp for someone like Naib. 

Thinking about that only manages to distract Norton for a short few seconds before he’s subjected to the sight of Naib - still looking unfairly attractive for a man who has sustained a fair amount of injuries as well, though not nearly to the degree that Norton has. 

What does he do in this situation? Play dead? Start the feelings talk? Act nonchalant?

He’s the prince , for goodness’ sake. He shouldn’t be worrying this much. 

And yet his voice still comes out terribly high-pitched when he manages to squeeze out a ‘good morning’. 

Naib’s head snaps in his direction, eyes wide as saucers. “Norton?” Before Norton can come up with anything to say, Naib’s launched himself towards him. Though he’s hardly the tallest person to exist, Naib’s still not light as a feather, and it takes a moment before Norton registers that he’s being embraced. The warmth of another pressed so tightly to him of their own will isn’t something he feels often, so can he really be blamed for freezing up? Naib’s breath is warm against his neck, and it sounds like he can’t decide whether to sound concerned, relieved, or angry. 

“You idiot,” he mutters. “I should’ve just left you to bleed out the first time around.” The words would be a lot more convincing if Naib wasn’t clinging onto him like a lifeline, his grip tight as if he’s afraid Norton will disappear the moment he lets go. 

Pressed this closely together, Norton can hear Naib’s pounding heart clear as day, but he’s reluctant to read too far into it. 

“Sorry,” he mumbles into Naib’s shirt, but he’s not sure what exactly he’s apologizing for. He’s got a lot to be sorry for, he supposes.  

As they split, Norton shudders at the look in Naib’s eyes. It’s not that there’s any clear emotion in them: if anything, it’s the opposite; he’s terrified of the fact that the usually easy-to-read Naib is wearing such a guarded expression. It’s a sobering reminder that a hug doesn’t erase what Naib must see as a betrayal. After all, just because Norton has such open-minded views towards all races doesn’t mean that an angel as straight-laced as Naib feels the same… the only thing worse than being separated from him would be to have him hate him. 

The silence is jarring and terrifyingly disconcerting. Even when it’s quiet, the two of them usually enjoy the background noise that comes from the flipping of pages in a book, the clicking of computer keys, the laundry machine’s chime or the television’s white noise. Right now, though, there’s nothing to distract him from the intensity he’s being stared down with. 

At least he should justify himself before Naib casts him away. Taking a shuddering breath, he begins:

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I just didn’t think that–”

Naib interrupts. “Why did you take that attack for me?” His voice is uncharacteristically small to the point where, even if the words wouldn’t have alarmed Norton, his tone would have made it obvious that there was a problem.

He pauses in what would have turned into a rambling speech, recollecting his thoughts. “Huh?”

“You knew, didn’t you?” Though Naib’s released him from his tight squeeze, he still hovers closely, a hair away from holding onto him again. Norton thinks that wouldn’t be too bad. “You knew that I’m… an angel. That I can heal myself after.”

The pieces aren’t really clicking together in Norton’s mind, but that can be partly attributed to the fact that he woke up a short few moments ago. “Yes?”

“So then…” Naib runs his fingers through his hair in frustration. “Carl said you were the prince . Why would you get yourself hurt for me?”

There are a lot of things that Norton has to say to that. Idiot, I’m in love with you. Don’t you know your life is worth a million of mine? A lot of things that, unfortunately, he is not shameless enough to say - it’s one thing to try and make fun of the other, and an entirely different thing to say the things he genuinely means. 

Instead, his mind jumps to the thing he’s been fixating on since he woke up. 

“You’re not mad I didn’t tell you?”

Norton thinks Naib’s spent too much time around Aesop because the look he levies upon him is the same one that Aesop uses when he says something particularly stupid. 

“You are an idiot,” he says, but with far too much reverence to sound like an insult. Norton feels something in his chest lighten at the sight of Naib’s real smile, a rarity of a sight. As their words fizzle out, though, Norton blurts something out:

“I didn’t want to see you get hurt.” Even for such innocent words, it takes a lot of effort to force them out, his face feeling much hotter than it’s supposed to be. 

It’s worth it when Naib turns as red as he is, though. The flush is a flattering look on him, really. “Oh.” 

They’re clumsy with their words and actions, but somehow it’s so easy to understand the thousands of unspoken words between them, the hidden meanings behind a simple oh . Despite everything, when Norton extends his hand hesitantly, Naib doesn’t hesitate before slipping his own fingers in between. 

The two of them sit on the floor for a bit, fingers interlaced, unspeaking in words but communicating enough in every twitch and expression. Here they are, Demon Prince beside holy angel, both of their true identities finally unmasked to one another. It feels free, to finally let loose of the secret he’s been keeping.

Finally, a terribly late response. 

“I hated seeing you get hurt, too.” Naib whispers into the empty air of the house, pointedly not looking in his direction. “If I had known…”

“If you had known,” Norton cuts him off, “you wouldn’t have let me protect you, and then we both would have ended up injured and maybe you’d have a harder time fighting off that ugly little bastard.” 

It is a much more reasonable-sounding explanation than Norton’s real thought process throughout the entire experience, mostly just a resounding DON’T LET HIM GET HURT . The demon had been right in one regard, he supposes: he’s really gone soft for Naib. 

“Hmm,” Naib mumbles in disbelief, as though he knows what Norton’s thinking. “Maybe you’re right.” He leans on Norton’s shoulder, eyes closed in a display of trust that Norton can’t really believe. Now that Naib knows what he’s capable of, he still chooses to place his faith in him? He feels something tug at his heart, something new and terrifying and gentle , something he’s not used to feeling so strongly. 

To hell with his kingdom. He’d give it up in an instant to live this life next to Naib. 

(After everything is cleared up, Eli and Aesop pay the pair a visit together, equally exasperated with their antics. Much to Norton’s despair, Naib does have to leave, a meeting with the Archangel Behamfil long overdue. He’s left with a sparkle in the other’s eye and a promise to return, though, so his dumbstruck and stupid-in-love self stay in the apartment while the other two stay to monitor his condition and make snide comments about him. 

He doesn’t look up, though, so he doesn’t notice the soft smile Eli and Aesop share. 

True to his word, Naib comes back for Norton. If he hadn’t, Norton’s not sure what he would have done - that would have been a stupid way to go out, death by heartbreak.

“Come with me.” Norton would follow him anywhere, so of course he complies to this man he is so very weak for. 

Thus follows the most stressful visit he’s ever paid to the angel realm, marking his second visit to Archangel Behamfil. 

“This is your new… human friend?” she asks, the emphasis on the word making it obvious that someone - likely Clark - has clued her in. Perhaps she just knows, though; he wouldn’t put it past her piercing eyes. 

Thankfully, he escapes that visit mostly unscathed - physically, at least. The same can’t necessarily be said of his mental state. 

In a private meeting later, the Archangel offers him her divine protection from his father’s forces. The suggestion she makes is so absurd that it takes him a while to realize how potentially reasonable it could be. 

“Would you like to join us as an honorary member of our kin?”

He suspects she offers more for Naib’s sake than his or anyone else’s, but at least he knows he can bond with the Archangel over their shared affection for a certain vertically challenged angel. 

It would be crazy, to leave the home he’s known for his entire life just for the sake of one half-stranger he’s only known for a few months. It shouldn’t even be a question, yet Norton hesitates.

Hesitates, because the only memories he really has of the Underworld are of screaming and shouting, cold empty abyss surrounding him - nothing like the warmth that surrounds him when he’s in Heaven, Naib always close by and Clark and Behamfil’s presences rarely absent too. Even Aesop shows up often, though Norton suspects that this has been an ongoing arrangement for longer than he’s known about it.

It doesn’t really take some revolutionary discovery for him to change his mind. He just hears Naib laugh, his beautiful snowy wings wrapping around his own dark wings, and decides that he finds more meaning in this than he ever will as the prince of a realm he doesn’t care for. 

That day, the Underworld’s Prince loses his crown for a halo and never looks back. The king will find a new heir to torment in time, but here - this is where he’s happiest, beside the person who’s lit his life up.)