Chapter Text
‘What was I doing again…?’ Angel had spaced out again. ‘Oh yeah, that’s right.’ It comes back to him, where he is, and what he’s doing as Aki slices a fiend in front of him. Angel makes a step to the side, but it’s too late for him to avoid the spray of blood that splatters him and the brick alley wall behind him. “Ah… my clothes, what a mess…” He mutters.
“Would you pay attention and help me out? You’re a liability right now, you know?” Aki snaps, a swipe from a clawed hand forcing him to jump backward. “I think you’ve got this covered,” Angel says in between a yawn, taking a few steps back to get himself out of the way. “I can cover myself.”
“Tch—you’re a pain.” No matter, Aki knew he was capable of handling a small fry fiend like this. The mass of misplaced arms and hands charges at him, one arm extending open-handed to grab him. A single slash of his blade takes care of that, the diseased arm flopping onto the ground and convulsing for a second before stilling. Even so, the creature was still active. He’d have to get to the head. It would be easier if there weren’t a mass of hands covering it. “Ugh, would you die already?” Aki groans, raising his blade and burrowing it deep into the center of the mass. The fiend stops for a second and the tension in Aki's body eases ever so faintly. This was a mistake. A moment later the creature tugs its hands hard, pulling the sword buried into its hands deep into its mass.
“Shit—” Aki is too late and the blade slips out of his grasp. He watches as it disappears, absorbed somewhere deep in the fleshy abomination. From behind, Angel sighs. It looks like there was no helping it this time.
“Usage: Five Years.” He reaches up and grips the sword that materializes beneath his halo. “Aki!” Angel yells, catching the swordsman’s attention. “Catch!” He turns the sword so he’s gripping the flat of the blade and tosses the sword hilt first at Aki. The blade whizzes over the fiend’s head, just barely escaping its grasp. Aki has to take a few steps back, but he’s able to snatch the sword from the air. It has a different balance than what he’s used to, but it would do. He’s more aggressive this time, hacking his way through a sea of arms that are waving aimlessly. The second he sees a clear shot of the head he swings the blade down like a guillotine. The head falls and lolls across the dirty pavement oozing a bloody mess that would be a pain to clean. The body keeps reaching out, trembling as it inches forward before collapsing.
Angel and Aki both step forward to take a closer look at the deceased fiend. “Looks good…” Angel murmurs, eyeing the bloodied flesh with a glint of appetite. Aki can’t possibly understand what he sees as appealing about any of this. Angel crouches down and tilts his head, humming absently to himself. “Ah—” he says, eyes lighting with recognition. “I believe that’s your sword in there.” He points to the end of a hilt, the sword almost entirely covered in arms like a tight hug.
“Right.” Aki sighs, wringing the back of his neck. This would be a pain. But first, he extends a hand out to the devil in front of him, sword still in his grasp. “Thanks for this, by the way.” Angel regards the sword with a downtrodden expression before taking it back into his grasp. And as easily as it had materialized, it dissipates all the same. “Now for this mess…”
Aki rolls up his sleeves and places one foot on the creature’s body. Reaches in and grabs the hilt, giving it a hard tug. Slowly it dislodges, making a rather sickening squelching sound as it slides out. Luckily, the sword is covered in whatever disgusting liquids this thing produces and it starts to slide out easily enough. With a breath of relief, Aki gives his blade a good shake to help get some of the gunk off it. The rest he wipes down with a handkerchief that he would definitely need to replace.
“Any chance you got a second handkerchief?” Angel says with some reluctance, looking down at his now bloodstained button-up. He’s certain he already knows the answer. “No.” It was worth a shot. He can get a replacement shirt and blazer... eventually. He’s thankful at least it wasn’t his shoes. Those might be harder to replace and besides, he’s already broken them in. “Maybe if you paid more attention your clothes wouldn’t be a bloody mess.” Angel hates that he’s right. There’s a smooth sliding sound as Aki resheathes his blade, followed by a satisfying click as it secures.
“Looks like our work here is finished. We should head back to the bureau to write up the report.” Aki asserts, dusting off his pants and jacket sleeves.
“Mmm… don’t wanna.” Aki sighs. “You never want to.”
“Hey, summoning that sword took a lot outta me. My energy is all depleted. Let’s at least get something to eat.” Angel whines, folding his arms indignantly.
“Looking like that?” Angel hates that he’s right, again. Curse that stupid fiend and its stupid blood. This is such a pain, Angel thinks. “Fine. We’ll go back. But after the report, I want something to eat.” Aki turns and crosses his arms in turn, flashing Angel an irritated look. Angel shrugs and points to the mound of rotting flesh, twisted hands, and eyeballs.
“Either we get food later or I eat that thing.” Aki almost wants to let him. He seriously considers just leaving him there and going back to the bureau on his own. But against his better judgment, he relents. He would be the one in trouble if Angel decided to wander off somewhere, after all. “Fine. But this time you have to actually sign off on the report. I already get enough grief from the higher-ups as it is.” “Deal.”
True to his word, the daily report is completed with all the necessary signatures at the bottom. Now all that’s left to do is to wait for Angel to change. Standing outside the door, Aki wonders what one of the guest rooms in the Devil Hunter’s headquarters looks like. He’s only ever been in the recovery rooms. It probably isn’t anything to write home about. Aki pulls back his sleeve to check the time on his watch. Angel is taking an annoyingly long time to change. Thinking about it, Aki wonders if Angel just decided to sleep instead. He wouldn’t be surprised in the least. Not wanting to waste what precious daylight is left, Aki reaches over and rasps the door with his knuckles.
Silence.
Aki knocks more assertively this time. “Come on Angel, are we going out or not?” There’s more silence, then the sound of something clattering to the floor, followed by muffled cursing. “Are you okay?” He can hear faint muttering, but he can’t make out what’s being said at all. At this point, Aki decides it's better to check in on him if he won’t get the door. He creeks the door open and he can hear the muffled muttering of Angel a little more clearly now. Although it’s less of words and more of frustrated growling. “Hey, I’m coming in to make sure everything’s alright, okay?”
“It’s fine—! I’m fine, just, go away!” At this point, Aki has already popped his head in to a rather comedic sight. There he is, arms and wings flailing about with a sweater halfway on, but mostly stuck over his head. Even his halo is comically tilted. Aki stifles a laugh.
“Are you sure you don’t need some help there?” Aki asks, standing in the doorway now with his arms folded.
“I’m—mhff—yes I’m sure! It’s just these goddamn sweaters—never fit my wings in right…” It might be why he wears the button-ups. You can just slip those over your shoulders. Judging by the ransacked closet, that button-up was his last clean pair. It’s of absolutely no surprise that Angel would put off doing laundry until it was absolutely necessary.
"Come on, you look ridiculous. Just let me help you, alright?” Angel surrenders trying to wrestle the sweater on and practically hurls it at Aki’s head. His face is flushed red and glistening a little from sweat. Aki holds the sweater in his hands and looks it over. It appears that there are two makeshift holes cut out for his wings. Judging by the seams, this wasn’t exactly a professional job.
“It’s dangerous, you know…” Angel huffs, folding his arms defensively over his chest and tilting himself away from Aki.
“Well, it’s a good thing I’m a careful guy then.” Aki returns, slowly making his way over to Angel. The devil flinches reflectively, his wings curling in close to his body. He’s shaking—Aki can’t tell if it’s because he’s cold, or angry, or afraid. Maybe a combination of all three. Right now, he looks like a frightened little cardinal. “It’ll only take a minute, I promise. Now turn around and lift up your arms.” Angel glares at him skeptically before slowly turning around. He turns enough so that he can still peer over his shoulder to see Aki. With a little hesitation, he slowly lifts his arms straight in the air. ‘This is humiliating. Getting dressed by a human.’
“Is it safe for me to touch your wings?” Aki murmurs, inspecting the folded wings from a close distance. They’re attached right around his shoulder blades. The angel’s skin looks so soft and smooth that Aki momentarily forgets just how lethal it is. It’s surprising that something that looks so gentle could be so deadly. With his folded wings and the soft outline of his shoulder blades, he looks like a beautiful statue. A molded piece of art. His contemplation is cut short by Angel’s response.
“Yes, just be careful. They’re… sensitive. I dunno what’ll happen if they start flailing about. Your hands might get thrown around and who knows where’d they land.” Aki nods, grabbing the hemline of the sweater and pulling it taut before gliding it down, shimmying the sleeves over each of his hands. Once it’s securely on his arms, he gives the neckline a little tug, freeing Angel’s head. Faint red hair cascades over his shoulders and looks surprisingly soft close up. Not having to worry about his arms or head anymore, he turns his attention to the main problem: the wings.
“Keep them folded like that, alright?” He takes one of the wings into his hands and brushes his thumb along the surface of the feathers. There’s a coarseness to the shafts, but the feathers themselves are smooth and soft, satisfying to the touch. Aki gets so absorbed in the sensation of rubbing his fingers across Angel’s wings that he temporarily forgets what he had been doing in the first place. He guides the bend of the wing through the slit in the sweater and then stretches the wing out once it’s through the hole. He does the same for the other. There’s a heavy sigh of relief from Angel once the deed is done. His wings twitch and flutter momentarily before returning to a comfortable resting position. Angel pats down the sweater, giving it a little tug of adjustment here and there, and then turns around to face Aki.
The devil hunter is… closer than Angel had anticipated. If he wasn’t so damn tall, his breath might touch his face. Instinctually, Angel backs up as much as he can, which isn’t very far. He was already close to the wall, but now he’s pressed up against it. The way Aki’s blue eyes hold him so singularly makes his breath hitch in his throat. Thoughts flood his mind. ‘Is this guy crazy or stupid or both? He gets so close to me, and he’s not even phased? If I reached out and grabbed him, I could easily kill him. Is he that confident in his strength? Or does he really trust a devil like me that much?’ None of the possible answers make any sense to him. No matter how hard he tries, he cannot understand Aki Hayakawa. Probably just as much as Aki Hayakawa cannot understand him.
“So—” Aki starts, turning his body towards the front door. Angel finally gets a chance to catch his breath. “—how about dinner, then?”