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“Do you have a dying wish?”
Aki feels Angel’s gloved hand slide through his wet hair once again, scrubbing in the freshly-squeezed shampoo.
He struggles to answer the question, considering how the hands of a man he loves won’t leave his head.
Literally.
Angel’s hands hold a special weight to him, he supposes.
They do ordinary ‘hand functions’, yet they’re so much more. They can take life, yet so carefully. They were painstakingly gentle and rough all at the same time, and Aki, well… he couldn’t be bothered to ignore how pretty they were, too.
“I’m not sure, yet. Do you?” Angel looked like he was in deep thought, as he continued to work his fingers through the bowl of water, rinsing the shampoo now.
“I guess so. If anything, I’d say goodbye to my first love. She didn’t know how much I really cared, we were too young back then.” A bit of pink tickled Angel’s cheeks at the mention of this woman.
First love, huh.
What a feeling.
Aki felt a ping in his chest of a feeling he couldn’t describe. Something in his heart ached, knowing that such naturally somber person had someone he loved.
“What was she like?”
“A dream.” Angel might’ve been embarrassed to answer so quickly if it was someone else, but with Aki? Transparency was all they were able to have.
The answer lingered in the cool air of the bathroom, for a bit longer than it should have.
Aki wondered if Angel still loved her, that is. He wanted to know more.
By the way Angel’s eyes lit up at the mention of her, Aki wanted to see more, to hear more of that adoration.
“She was a devil under Makima’s contract, like me. She was the first one to make me see a little beauty in the type of life that I have to live, that we were living together. When we had time…” Angel took a deep shaky breath, as to stop himself from choking up.
“She’d take me out to watch the waves of the ocean. She’d hold my hand. I think… I think that’s what did it. She could, well… she wanted … to touch me.”
Angel smiled in a serene way that Aki hadn’t seen before. He was shocked that Angel didn’t choke on all the words he had built up about this girl.
Aki wondered, what would things be like if he could love Angel openly?
“Do you love her still?” Aki felt that it was a little personal to ask this question, not to mention well, he’d already kind of answered it himself.
But what’s the harm?
“I’ll always have love for her, but not in the same way. She’s just a fond memory that I like to think back on sometimes. Well, what I’m trying to say is that no, I’m not in love with her anymore, if that’s what you’re asking.” Angel’s lips quirked up into a smirk as they made eye contact.
Aki tore his away.
“Am I being too rough?”
“No. You’re perfect.” Aki cocked his head in confusion as he watched color blossom on Angel’s cheeks before realizing how impassioned that sounded coming out of his mouth.
“Shit. I mean—the way you were touching me was—fuck, you’re making me feel good—damn it. It feels fine! That’s what I meant!”
Aki shot out of his laying position in a flash, still wet hair dripping all over his back. He’d broken the bubble of intimacy around them with his rambling.
He almost looked… embarrassed?
“Aki,”
“That came out weird. I’m… sorry.”
“There’s nothing to apologize for, really. It’s fine,” Angel actually found it quite endearing that someone as stone-faced as Aki could get so flustered.
The room felt warmer than before, the sound of dripping water being the only thing to fill the ongoing silence.
“Can I finish conditioning your hair now?”
Aki nodded, letting his head settle back into the comfortable bowl. Angel knew how to make him comfortable, at least in the very quiet ways.
His place was usually pretty messy—considering Angel’s indolent lifestyle—yet it always seemed squeaky clean when it was time for Aki to come by.
He kept Aki’s favorite foods in the kitchen, when usually Angel’s kitchen contents consisted of vanilla ice cream, blood bags, and a large jar of peanut butter, half eaten.
And he kept cigarettes in the cabinet below the silverware.
If that wasn’t enough, the hair care thing happens frequently, too.
Aki had offhandedly mentioned his dislike for the process of his hair maintenance, and suddenly Angel was a hairstylist, according to his standards.
He apparently only offered because, in his very own angelic way, “no one else could do hair decently in this shitty town.”
“Then why don’t you become a hairstylist for a living instead of working in public safety?”
“I’m a devil, Aki.”
“…If you weren’t a devil, would you be a hairstylist for a living?”
“Doubt it.”
Aki didn’t ask anymore questions, save for the fact that he couldn’t stop himself from smiling a bit.
Now, Angel washes and cuts Aki’s hair whenever he deems it necessary (whenever he starts to get distracted by the flow of it in the wind, or how it falls out of its usual style so elegantly.)
Angel can never seem to decipher how he feels about Aki.
They’re… emotions, certainly. He’s only felt something similar to this with one other person, but it wasn’t the same.
His feelings to her, well, they were simple. He loved her, was in love with her, in the same way he loves ice cream, or the ocean waves, or even warm baths. She held him tight, as he held her, and they loved each other.
Her love still held weight to Angel, but not in the same way it used to. She was gone, he’d had an entire lifetime to grieve her, and he’d moved on.
His feelings toward Aki, however.
He’d have a harder time explaining those.
If Angel’s feelings were written by an author? They’d be considered a draft; and unfinished thought, and a poorly written one, at that.
They sit unused and useless, collecting dust inside of a notebook, with no purpose of use. They’re there—and taking up an excessive amount of space, might he add—but what would using them gain anyone?
It’s unlikely that Aki would even care, he’d probably spew some boring spiel about why dating within the workplace is “unprofessional”, and even if he did reciprocate, what the hell would they be able to do?
There’s only so many loopholes they could find in regards to basic affection, and anything more intimate than that was unattainable.
It was useless.
Angel couldn’t stand himself for feeling this way about a human, especially one who several people claim to be the biggest devil hater.
On one hand, Angel was enamored by Aki, and wanted nothing more than to keep him by his side forever. On the other hand, Angel detested him, and just wanted to know why he felt this way towards a human.
Despite the conflicting feelings, Angel wanted Aki to live, and he’d do whatever it took to ensure his time with Aki was as long as it could possibly be.
For research. Not because he loved him, or anything.
Angel finished rinsing out the conditioner, and motioned for a towel. Aki reached for the towel, going to dry his own hair like he usually does, but Angel put his hand on the towel—a bit tighter than necessary.
“Let me. I wanna do it today.” Angel looked away sheepishly, not wanting to show how embarrassed he was to do something as simple as drying hair.
Aki held no opposition to the idea, and handed the towel off without a word. Angel was particularly gentle with his movements today, all around. It seemed as if he had a lot on his mind.
He’d been almost tiptoeing around, as if he was walking on eggshells, and talking softer with a gentler tone rather than his usual monotone one.
Even the way he dried Aki’s hair, it was so delicate that Aki found himself holding back a relaxed sound at the soft pressure. He felt his shoulders drop at the action.
Angel could plan to murder him right now, and he’d fall victim to the attack without so much as a struggle. Him and Angel’s time together always consisted of something domestic and quiet, he couldn’t help getting tired around him.
“There. All dry.” Aki made no move to pull himself out of the trance he was in, and Angel could tell. He seemed sleepy at this point, so Angel tried his best to softly lead him to the bed.
Aki didn’t make much of a struggle, eventually ending up surrounded with the smell of Angel all around him in bed, slowly lulling him to sleep.
Angel went to get himself something from the kitchen, not before he called Denji.
“Hello?” Angel spoke softly, trying not to wake Aki.
“Who’s this?! You don’t sound anything like Top Knot!” If Angel wasn’t already used to it, he would’ve flinched at the volume of Power’s voice.
“It’s Angel. Aki’s over my place. Can I speak to Denji?” There was a short pause before Power laughed a sweet laugh, and called Denji from another room.
There was a bit of a struggle over the possession of the phone, Denji eventually winning the battle.
“Yo.”
“It’s Angel. I was calling to let you know that Aki might be staying over my place tonight, he fell asleep while I was—while we were…”
What’s a good way to tell the love of your life’s brother that you were intimately washing his hair and having a conversation about love and the future?
“While we were watching a movie! Yeah, that’s what I meant.” Angel felt his face heat up as he heard Power snickering in the background.
“Wait, are you that one dude he’s always talking about? The one with the ‘big wings, and beautiful face’ or whatever the fuck he says?” Angel quirks his eyebrows, looking back at Aki’s still sleeping form.
Interesting description, Aki.
“I do have wings, yes. I wouldn’t considered them that big, though.” Denji made sounds of approval over the phone, attentively listening.
“At least you called. ‘Asshole couldn’t even stay awake to send a text saying he ain’t coming back, I guess.”
“It’s all good. He’ll be back later in the afternoon, since we’re off the clock tomorrow. If you need anything you can call me.”
Denji nodded, forgetting that Angel couldn’t see him. He then gave a verbal ‘yeah, sure.’
“Bye, Aki’s boyfriend!”
“My name’s actually Angel-” The phone was already beeping before he finished, indicating the end of the call. He chuckled a bit, going to sit down on the chair next to the bed.
What an interesting bunch, the three of them.
Angel was happy for Aki, that he found his people. He was quite the solemn guy, and rightfully so. He’d lost so much in his years that it made Angel’s heart feel a dull ache just by looking at him.
Aki looks much less solemn when he’s around them. It’s enough to make Angel grin, sometimes.
He wants Aki to survive, that’s no secret. He’s, well…
He loves Aki. Intensely so. It made Angel want to crawl in on himself for admitting this—even to himself—but he’d do just about anything for Aki’s love.
Angel reached over, his breath hitching at the pretty sight of Aki, tucked under pillows and blankets alike, soundly sleeping. His hair had slipped out of its loose ponytail, causing his hair to sprawl out all over the pillow.
Angel reached out to touch the hair, wishing that he could revel in its softness. Aki began to shuffle, slowly cracking an eye open.
Angel jerked away and pretended to be reading a newspaper.
“What time ‘sit?” Aki’s voice had a gravelly tone to it, causing Angel to push his face deeper into the newspaper in order to hide the redness of his ears and neck.
“Doesn’t matter, you’re sleeping here. Denji and Power are fine, I called them—well, I called Denji, Power just yelled into the phone. They’re okay, though.”
“‘Don’t have any clothes, though…” Angel left the room briefly and retrieved a basket of Aki’s clothes that’d been left in previous visits.
“You leave stuff here, a lot. I’m sure there’s something in here you can work with, yeah?”
Aki stood up slowly, shaking the sleep from his bones. Looking through the basket, he found that all of his stray laundry had been washed and folded, despite the fact that Angel hated doing laundry.
He laughed a quiet little laugh, and Angel wanted to hold him so badly.
“Thank you, Angel.” He simply just nodded, not wanting his mouth to expose what was going on in his head.
It was too tender for the both of them, really.