Chapter Text
"What are you doing?" Aki asks with a frown as he watches Angel take off his shirt and unceremoniously fling it across the room.
"What does it look like I'm doing?"
Angel collapses on the bed, and groans. "Dude, it's so fucking hot."
"I know it's hot. Do you really think taking your clothes off is the best idea?"
Angel is pushing his pants down to his hips and shimmying out of them, left in only his boxers. Aki averts his eyes quickly, trying not to think too hard about it.
"Angel."
"It's like thirty degrees," he whines, spreading his wings across the bed. "I'm dying."
"You're not dying. Don't be so dramatic."
Aki cracks the balcony door open a little more anyway - not that it makes any difference, it's hotter outside than in, despite the sun having set. The air feels wet and thick and far too hot.
He finds himself wishing for that heavenly rain from last night's storm to return; at least the air had cooled for a few hours. It had built up for two days before breaking, and when it finally did it was blissful. Not even twenty four hours ago he'd been leaning against the door frame watching Denji and Power dance around on the balcony as the rain battered them in sheets, almost reaching far enough to flood the floor of the living room, and the air was finally blissfully cool. It didn't take long for Aki to join them, just to lean against the railing at first and feel the rain wet his hair as he watched the sky for sporadic spikes of fork lightning illuminating the clouds - and then to dance with them, jumping and splashing and laughing and it was so perfect beyond belief. Hearing them sing badly to the music they'd left playing in the living room and watching them laugh and spin and feeling the rain plaster his loose hair to his forehead until all of their clothes had soaked through enough to drip all over the floor when they came back inside - it's moments like these that make him regret ever making that contract, that make him want to live, to stay with Denji and Power forever and forget his suicidal quest for revenge because it doesn't matter, he has a family now.
He shoves the thought aside. It's too late now. The rain is gone, and the water soaking the asphalt of the streets below is evaporating, making the air twice as humid and ten times as unbearable. "I can find a fan, if that would help."
"It won't," Angel groans. "I'm going to die."
Aki finds it anyway, pulling the dusty thing out of the back of the closet and plugging it in and setting it to high. Summer came on fast this year. Last week it had been gently warm; within the past few days it suddenly shifted to something stifling and oppressive.
"If you're going to sleep in my bed, you're going to have to put your clothes back on," Aki says plainly, picking up Angel's discarded garments and tossing them at him.
"No way," Angel mumbles, tossing them back.
He doesn't know how it happened, really. The whole sleeping together thing. It's stupid - really, seriously dumb - but they've settled into an uncomfortably comfortable routine. Months ago Angel had showed up at his apartment in the middle of the night - he still doesn't know why. It's easy with him, though. As much as he wants to pretend it isn't. Spending hours talking turned into a nightly thing, and somewhere along the way, it turned into falling asleep together, pillows barricaded between them; which somehow turned into falling asleep together, pillows discarded, bodies intertwined, albeit tentatively. Gloves on, socks on, long sweatpants and hoodies and it's nice. It's not love, he knows that, it can't be - but it's been a long time since Aki had intimacy like this, and he likes it. And fuck, they can't continue, not when it's thirty degrees and Angel can't even stand to keep his shirt on. And he hates himself for it, but he already misses it.
Aki sits on edge of the bed, keeping his distance. "What are we going to do?"
The question comes out flatter than he would've liked. More of a statement, really. He knows there isn't an answer.
Angel doesn't bother to sit up or even look at him. He just shrugs. "Dunno."
Aki takes a deep breath, lies back, lets the impact of his back hitting the pillows knock the air out of his lungs. "Fuck."
"You think it'll rain again?" Angel asks, never one to dwell on the obvious - they both know they're fucked, there's nothing they can do. Whatever lingers unspoken in the time they spend together, whatever it is that's going on between them - (it can't be love, they both know it can't be love) - it was doomed from the start. It was never going to end in anything but anguish. No use dwelling on it.
"Maybe," Aki says quietly. It's fine. It doesn't hurt that much. They'll take what they can while it lasts, at least. "I hope so."
"Me too."
They lie in silence on opposite sides of the bed. Everything that needs to be said has been said; everything that hasn't been said doesn't need to be. They both already know.
The words itch at Aki's throat, his head knowing better but his heart wanting to say it anyway.
"Angel?" he starts, his voice catching in his throat, his body willing him not to say anything stupid. He waits half a minute. No response. "I think I-"
"Don't." Angel looks pained. "Please."
"Why not?" Aki asks. Frustration bubbles up in his chest. "Why not, if you already know?"
"You know why." Angel turns to face him, finally, and it occurs to him that it's the first time they've made proper eye contact all night. "I can't give you what you need. You know that."
"I don't care," Aki says stupidly, and he curses himself for sounding like a bratty little child. "It doesn't matter. It's enough."
"Don't lie," Angel says dryly.
"It doesn't matter," he repeats. "It'll cool down in a month or so. Then we can go back to normal."
Angel scoffs slightly. "Normal? Aki, be serious. It's not about the weather. I can't touch you. Ever."
"It doesn't matter," Aki says a third time, believing it less.
"It does." Angel faces the ceiling again. "You deserve something more than this."
"That's not your decision."
He turns back again, and finally smiles. "You are so fucking stubborn. Holy shit."
"Want me to get you a wet towel or something? To help you cool down?"
"Aki. It's torture. For both of us."
Aki shrugs. "Yeah. Kind of."
"Kind of?"
"It is," he says. "But it's also nice, isn't it?"
Angel snorts. "Nice? Really?"
"God, shut up," Aki groans. "It's... I don't know. It feels right. I like falling asleep in your arms."
"Even with the knowledge that you might not wake up in the morning because you accidentally brushed your face against mine?"
"What can I say, I like the rush. It's thrilling."
"You are so stupid," Angel says. There's no bite behind the words, but it's true.
Aki smiles slightly. "Yeah. I am."
"Like, really stupid, holy shit. You have a death wish, seriously."
"Yeah, something like that."
"Aki." Angel's voice drops to a whisper. His words come out hesitantly, like he's scared to admit it. "I hate that I can't kiss you."
Aki's eyes widen slightly. He turns his head to meet Angel's. "So you feel it too?"
Angel grins. "God, you really are stupid."
"You love me too?"
It comes out sounding more urgent than he would have liked it to. Desperate. He doesn't have the self respect to be embarrassed by it. "Say it. Please."
"Seriously? We're really doing this?"
"Angel."
Angel hesitates. Not because he doesn't mean it, Aki knows that, but because once the words leave their mouths there's no going back.
Aki watches his lips press together and then part as he softly exhales.
"Fuck," he says, dragging a hand over his face and through his unkempt hair. "Yes, I love you."
Aki stares. It shouldn't make a difference. He already knew, really. The second the words are said, though, everything shifts slightly, and suddenly Angel is the most beautiful thing he's ever seen, sprawled out in his bed, the light from his halo glinting off his eyes, the only source of light in the dim room. Suddenly he's his.
"Well?" Angel says, expectantly, expression lazily amused. He always looks a little bored, Aki thinks, and it's kind of cute. "You're not going to say it back?"
Aki smiles - a real, genuine smile, which, against his better judgement, are getting more and more frequent these days - and moves a little closer, closing the space between them only slightly. It strikes him much he truly doesn't care how doomed this is, how doomed they both are. It doesn't matter. Not yet, anyway.
"I love you."