Work Text:
Aki Hayakawa stands at a clifface. He knows he’ll soon make the plunge into a bottomless pit below and get absorbed by the blinding light of holy bliss. The Angel Devil’s hypnotic gaze doesn’t leave Aki’s. His mind is racing, adrenaline pumping through every part in his body, down to his feet.
“Aki,” Angel whispers, “are you sure you want this?”
Aki takes a moment to himself. He paces around the room, turning his back to the devil. He takes a deep breath. Angel stands awkwardly by the window, soft wind caressing the feathers of his wings and tangling his red hair. Aki hesitates turning around, as if just glancing at Angel will turn him into a pillar of salt. Then, he collects himself.
“I’m sure,” he finally states, walking over to face Angel by the window and offer the devil all of himself.
—
Aki had never expected to find himself pondering forming a contract with the Angel Devil. The thoughts started clouding his mind a little while after they partnered up. Frankly, he had never anticipated forming such a close and profound relationship with a devil, especially one as lazy as Angel (though, to be fair, he didn’t think he was even able to connect to someone this easily, not after Himeno).
It is common knowledge to everyone that Aki Hayakawa is Public Safety's number one devil hater. He’s not so sure of that anymore.
He lights a cigarette, sitting on a park bench by Angel’s side. The latter is carefully licking a soft serve ice cream, desperately trying to avoid any drops to fall on his sleeve but failing to do so. Aki tries to remember when he’d switched to calling Angel Devil just Angel, and when he’d managed to get so attached.
It seems that the Angel Devil has some hypnotic aura that compels Aki towards him.
“There’s ice cream on your sleeve,” mumbles Aki, “and on your face.” Angel rolls his eyes, trying to clumsily lick the remainder off of his mouth. Aki sighs, taking his handkerchief out of his pocket and handing it to Angel.
“My hands are full,” says Angel.
“God,” hisses Aki as he reaches over to help Angel, feigning a sense of annoyance. He fails to hide the subtle smile on his lips.
“People are going to start thinking you’re a softie at this rate,” mutters Angel, subconsciously trailing his finger along the spot on his cheek where Aki’s handkerchief had just touched.
Aki only shrugs and attempts to look away as he pockets his handkerchief, but his gaze slips back towards Angel, who contentedly crunches on the cone of his ice cream. Aki doesn’t even hide it as he observes Angel, looking at his long, wispy eyelashes and how they fall on his rosy cheeks for fleeting moments; his scarlet eyes, warm like the blood that flows through him — the blood Aki silently worships in solitude every night as he longs for the touch of an untouchable being. He notices the faint birth marks that speckle Angel’s perfect, porcelain skin and the subtle red flush of his knuckles and the tips of his fingers.
Aki drags his hands over his face to halt his descent to the second ring of hell. The black leather of his gloves is rough against his skin and pricks like icicles. The coldness brings him back to earth, and he finally replies to Angel’s remark.
“I doubt they don’t think that already,” he says, huffing out a cloud of silver, “that I'm soft, I mean.” Angel hums in acknowledgement as he stands to stretch out his wings after keeping them cramped against the back of the bench for the past fifteen minutes or so.
“What do you think about me, Angel?”
The name rolls off Aki's tongue like velvet, tenderly laced with affection. Every time Aki says his name, Angel feels his heart sink down to his stomach.
What does he think about him? What kind of question is that? Angel could answer that in a multitude of ways and it would still never feel right in his heart, because Aki to Angel is like a gift sent by God. Aki is a blessing that he doesn’t even deem himself worthy of. There are no words in Angel’s vocabulary that can even begin to describe what he thinks about Aki.
“I think you’re a fool,” says Angel flatly.
Aki seems taken aback but doesn’t try to argue.
“You’re right,” he chuckles, “I am.”
“What about me?” asks Angel, turning to look at Aki, “What do you think about me? Am I also a fool?”
Aki smiles.
“No, I think you’re extremely strong. I have a lot of respect for you, Angel.” The corners of Aki’s eyes crinkle as he smiles at Angel, the most genuine smile Angel has ever seen.
“It’s mutual,” he replies.
Aki stands up, throwing his cigarette on the ground and stomping it out. When he makes eye contact with Angel, however, it’s as if he’s under the influence of a tremendously powerful drug that seems to further loosen the screw that hangs by a thread in his head, and the words tumble out before he can take them back.
“Angel, can I try something?” He asks. His hands itch with sweat under the black leather.
“Try what?”
“This.”
And before Angel can question further, the drug takes control of Aki’s body and he delicately places his fingers against Angel’s lips and leans in. He kisses his gloved hand, and even without the physical contact, Angel’s face heats up. Aki remains where he is, so Angel plants a gentle kiss on the hand that rests on his lips. All he tastes is leather but his body fills with warmth. Aki opens his eyes, looking deeply into Angel’s before he removes his hand. His breath remains though, brushing against Angel’s nose. Aki’s face is so close and Angel stands in a stupor, afraid to move and take away more of Aki’s precious time. Aki lets his hand wander the planes of Angel’s face, trailing his jawline and rubbing circles on his cheeks. He traces his thumb across Angel’s lower lip, fighting with every force in his body to stop himself from sacrificing some time to give Angel a real kiss.
“Aki…” sighs Angel, leaning into his touch, “You are such an idiot.”
“I know,” Aki replies, leaning down to lay a kiss on Angel’s hair.
“Please, stop,” says Angel, “don’t do this to me. Don’t do this to yourself. Your life is short as it is. You don’t need the threat of my touch ending your life to be a daily concern.”
Aki now moves his hand to card through Angel’s hair, intertwining his fingers with dull red strands of silk. Like waterfalls, they fall through his fingers.
“I wouldn’t mind going out like that,” says Aki, a melancholic smile clinging to his face. Angel wants to rip it off.
“You know how selfish you’re being,” Angel says. He blows away a stray strand of hair that clings to his forehead from Aki’s gloved touches.
“I know.”
Aki solemnly drops his hand and turns to walk back to Public Safety, but Angel grabs his elbow and jerks him backwards. Confusion paints Aki’s face as he looks down at the devil. Angel swallows and chews on his words, trying to order them correctly but in the end just blurts out the original draft.
“I can form a contract with you.”
Aki laces his brows together. He can’t discern Angel’s tone and fails to find an indicator in his dark ruby eyes.
“Huh?”
“I can form a contract with you,” Angel repeats, now more confidently.
“But you said you hate being tied up in a contract?” asks Aki.
And he’s right. For Angel, being tied to a human in a contract is pointless, because what can a human offer him? In all his lifetimes, this is the first time he’s initiated one.
“I don’t think I’d mind being bound in a contract if it was with you,” Angel replies, and suddenly he feels oddly self-conscious. Since when did he get so bold? He avoids meeting Aki’s eyes in fear of his confident veneer being dissolved in a blue depth, leaving only the insecure skeleton.
Aki stares at Angel in disbelief, but his heart feels the relief of his answered prayers. He asks the question that he’s been aching to ask ever since the hope for a contract emerged in him.
“Will it grant me the ability to touch you?” asks Aki, and it comes out a little more desperate than he intends to.
Angel nods, but the confidence in his eyes seems to waver.
“I’m not gonna lie,” says Angel, “I’ve never done this before so I can’t be sure, but something tells me that it will. Honestly, contracts are difficult to explain to a human from our perspective. We just kind of.. know.”
“Right,” says Aki, “so what do I have to give you?”
A feeble smile tugs at Angel’s lips.
“Well, I’d say touch is more your offer to me in this contract. In return, I give you access to the lifespans I drain from others. In other words, you can use them to create weapons… or give that lifespan to yourself.”
His face doesn’t show it, but Aki is elated. He isn’t even really listening anymore because Angel’s powers can’t compare to the priceless feeling of skin on skin contact. He thinks if Angel told him to sell his soul in order to be able to touch him, he’d do it without hesitation.
“I’ll think about it,” is Aki’s reply, even though he mentally agreed before Angel even stated the requirements of the contract.
—
As gold coats Angel’s skin, Aki’s urge to press his fingertips against it grows stronger. The wind keeps on raking its fingers through Angel’s hair and ruffling his feathers as he extends his palm.
“Give me your hand,” he says flatly. His pale, lithe palm hovers in the space between them. Aki lifts his own and is about to press it against Angel’s when he is interrupted. “Take your glove off.”
Panic momentarily flashes in Aki’s eyes as he retracts his palm.
“I’m not going to drain your lifespan, Aki,” Angel reassures him. Aki hesitates, but removes the glove that protects his hand from a quick, painless death only millimeters away. Aki brings back his palm and positions it in front of Angel’s. It is then that he notices how small the other’s hands are compared to his, how perfect and soft they look compared to his own clammy, scarred ones. Before the dangerous distance between their hands closes, Angel closes his eyes and begins reciting something that sounds like a prayer. The prayer is in Latin, and Angel pronounces the words with confidence. The glow of his halo brightens and the room drowns in amber light. Aki feels his palm heat up, and like a magnet, it’s pulled towards Angel’s where their skin finally connects. He feels a cold sweat run down the back of his neck as he stares at their touching hands.
“Angel, am I about to die?” he croaks. He doesn’t know what draining lifespan feels like. The only time it happened to him went by so fast he couldn’t register the feeling. Perhaps there really is no way of knowing.
Angel doesn’t answer, only continues chanting the words of what seems like a rehearsed verse. The heat between their palms increases, burning like fire. Aki winces, attempting to pull back his hand, but no matter how hard he tries, it remains in place.
All of a sudden, Angel falls silent and opens his eyes, revealing instead of dark red irises a glowing plain white. The entire room is alight, and Aki squints to shade himself from the overbearing brightness.
“Aki Hayakawa,” begins Angel, “do you swear unconditional faith to myself in exchange for my power.”
Aki doesn’t think twice. “I swear.”
“Then may the pact be sealed.”
As quickly as it happened, the ceremony ends. Angel blinks and his eyes are back to their usual fiery red. A soft smile tugs at his lips as he glances at their joined palms.
“It worked,” he whispers, interlocking his bare fingers with Aki’s. His brain short circuits, because the Angel Devil has never touched anyone like this in all his lifetimes.
“Are you sure? I really don’t feel like dying right now—” stammers Aki. He’s uncharacteristically nervous.
“Yes,” Angel cuts him off, “I don’t feel myself taking your life right now.” He runs his thumb across the side of Aki’s palm.
Aki takes the glove off of his other hand and brings it to Angel’s cheek, cupping it gently. Angel leans into the touch, and despite Aki’s cold hands it’s searing hot, like a burning coal.
Then, Angel gets on his tiptoes to do the thing that has plagued his mind ever since he hopelessly fell for a human with only two years left to live, the one he fell for as fast as Lucifer fell from heaven. In a way, Aki is Angel’s own fall from grace, causing him to stray from his devil-like nature and venture into unknown human territory.
With the same tenderness as the feathers on his back, Angel presses his lips against Aki’s (who has to bend over significantly to get to Angel’s level).
The taste of smoke and coffee erupts in Angel’s senses and he feels like this is the closest to heaven he will ever get. Aki moves swiftly, slightly tilting his head to deepen the kiss. He trails his tongue across Angel’s lower lip, and Angel parts his mouth slightly. To Angel, the kiss feels nothing like they describe it in books and movies. It’s wet, hot and sloppy due to his own inexperience, but his stomach flutters and his hands move to cradle the back of Aki’s head. He’s starting to get breathless, and he’s unsure whether it’s because Aki’s hands now rest on his waist or because hours have passed and he hasn’t noticed. He seems to always lose track of time when around Aki.
Angel pulls back, panting, and Aki’s breath still ghosts over his lips. He can’t help but smile. Aki smiles too, so wide and so genuine — something so rare to see on his cold, stoic face. He chuckles, hunching over again to speckle kisses over Angel’s cheeks and nose. Angel thinks about how nice his cologne smells, and how his lips are a little chapped, and how there’s a very faint sliver of stubble on his chin. Aki is at a distance he’s never been before, so close and so unreal that Angel dreads he will wake up soon, alone in his bed sheets in a damp, dark room.
But that doesn’t happen.
There’s only Aki and his intoxicating smile pulling Angel into another kiss, now slightly less hungry and more meaningful. Aki slides his fingers between the feathers of Angel’s wings, feeling the flesh and skin that hides under a thick blanket of white. Angel shudders, his wings springing to their full size on reflex. Loose feathers fly off and a momentary breeze blows through Aki’s hair. Angel pulls away and reaches up to untie the tight hair band and let Aki’s raven hair hang loose. He tucks a strand behind Aki’s ear.
No words are spoken, and only the comforting rustle of clothing being undone, the creak of an old bed and desperate kisses fill the space. Angel brushes his fingers against Aki’s bare chest and it’s like touching a furnace. His skin is littered with scars and scabs — visual marks left by his line of work.
Angel leans down to kiss Aki’s neck, and Aki writhes under his thin body. As Angel continues a path of kisses down Aki’s chest and towards his stomach, Aki lets out a contempt sigh. He tangles his fingers in Angel’s scarlet hair and the line of kisses progresses past his belly button. He doesn’t fully process the feeble moan that escapes from his lips until Angel’s head shoots up, his eyes wide. Aki crimsons and Angel only giggles, crawling back on top of Aki to place a soft peck on his lips.
“I don’t know what that was,” says Aki, his face redder than the lazy sun that sets on the horizon.
“Sure,” snickers Angel, falling to lay next to Aki, who brings his fingers to graze over Angel’s exposed thigh. His joints are rosy with the same pink of his fingertips and knuckles, and Aki thinks it shouldn’t be possible for a being to look so perfect.
He presses his lips against Angel’s again, now a little harsher, letting his tongue circle the inside of Angel’s mouth. He pushes himself up to position himself over Angel, taking his lips to the corner of Angel’s mouth and further down his jaw. Eventually, he ends up at Angel’s neck. His skin is delicate and unscathed, undesecrated by others’ hands.
And Aki can’t help but feel a little possessive as he sucks at a sensitive spot on Angel’s neck because he’s the only one that can touch Angel like this.
“Aki..” Angel sighs, and it sends shivers down Aki’s spine. Aki persists in peppering kisses down Angel’s body, gentle, as if his skin is made of glass. Angel’s skin is aflame and he doesn’t know how to deal with it. He’s never been in such an intimate scenario, so raw and so drenched in longing. He’s sure he’s about to crumble into a disarray of ceramic shards and the surface of his fragile body cracks with every press of Aki’s lips against it.
Aki returns to his position above Angel, a crooked grin plastered on his face. Angel lifts his hands and cups Aki’s jaw and with satin-like tenderness he caresses his cheeks. Aki drops his head and burrows it into the crook of Angel’s neck, carefully laying his chest over Angel’s. They listen to the sound of each other’s heartbeat, basking in the warmth of the room and each other’s arms. Angel feels the bumps of Aki’s spine and traces the lower part of his scapula. He can’t help but think of the strong, large wings that would grow there, were Aki a devil.
But alas, he is human, and very mortal.
Angel hates thinking about the deep ravine that is their differences. They’re an oxymoron. They shouldn’t work, but they fit together like two pieces of a broken puzzle.
When Angel overthinks, his inhumanity is what he is reminded of first. He doesn’t know what it feels like to be fully there. Half of the time, Angel thinks he’s watching life through a TV, like he isn’t real and simply a faceless entity that only occupies space and provides no real purpose. He knows nothing of the impuissance of empathy and the depth that Aki experiences it in. He doesn’t know how difficult this situation is for Aki and his constant battle with his own morals.
Aki Hayakawa is Public Safety’s number one devil hater, yet he houses a fiend and boy with a devil’s heart and treats them with love, care and respect. He’s the number one devil hater, but he now lays in bed with a devil, naked in all senses and forming a contract without Public Safety’s consent. Just like the Angel Devil, Aki is a walking contradiction.
“Aki,” Angel mumbles into his ear. Aki seems to have begun to doze off.
“Mm,” he hums.
“You’re crushing my wings.”
Aki drags himself off of Angel and falls onto his back beside him. Groggily, Angel sits up and stretches out his wings, and with a flap they send a soft breeze and loose feathers to circulate around the room. He turns his head to look down at Aki, who meets his gaze with those deep blue eyes that Angel so adores. On impulse, Angel leans in to kiss Aki again, firm enough to convey his want and the long suppressed need for a certain pathetic man’s embrace.
The rest of the evening is a blur of fervent kisses, hushed moans and rash touches that leave burn marks on white velvet skin.
Aki’s mind is mangled as he lays soaked in sweat and high on the aftertaste of the Angel Devil. The latter has succumbed to sleep and is sprawled across the bed on his stomach, his disheveled hair clinging to the pillow and his halo illuminating his features in a muted yellow glow. Aki simply admires him, running his fingers across Angel’s feathers and where his wings meet the flesh of his back, then his spinal cord and his hip bones.
And in the silence of the frigid night, Aki thinks he’d give up his whole lifespan, and all lives he will have in the future, in every dimension and everything universe, to kiss Angel goodbye.