Chapter Text
Lucien leaned in until he deliberately invaded Axel’s space.
It wasn’t abrupt. It was calculated, slow, as if he wanted every centimeter to matter. Axel’s curly blond hair fell messily over his forehead, and his red wings, small but vivid, tensed immediately, reacting faster than his mind.
“Little bird… hey,” Lucien murmured, his voice low, weighted. “I’ve got something for you.”
Axel didn’t step back. On the contrary, he closed the final inch between them, his blue gaze no longer pretending indifference. His eyes drifted slowly down to Lucien’s mouth and lingered there, as if hovering on the edge of a dangerous decision.
“I’m listening. Loud and clear,” he replied, almost whispering, his breath brushing Lucien’s lips.
The blush came first. Treacherous.
Then the kiss.
Quick. Stolen. Awkward from surprise and perfect because of it.
Axel inhaled sharply, eyes wide for just a second too long, and his wings jolted, twisting outward as if struck by a direct current. When they pulled apart moments later, the world seemed to freeze in that narrow space between their mouths.
Their gazes locked in a silent close-up.
Dilated pupils.
Imaginary stars and fireworks exploding behind their eyes.
Flushed cheeks. Uneven breaths.
Lucien was the first to smile, satisfied.
Axel was the first to look away, as if he needed a second to pull himself together.
⸻
Hours later, the scene was different, but the electricity still lingered in the air, thick and humming.
The bed was a mess, sheets tangled like silent witnesses. Too little clothing. Too much exposed skin. Soft bruises bloomed along hips and thighs, bites that hadn’t broken skin but had left promises behind, small burns barely glowing under the warm light, like proud signatures. Kisses scattered without order, as if neither of them had known—or wanted—to stop.
They shared the same phone, though not the same attention. Axel had an unlit cigarette between his lips, more habit than provocation.
“Hey, Bel—”
Nothing.
Lucien was still absorbed in the screen.
Axel clicked his tongue. “Lucien.”
An exaggerated sigh. A slow roll of the eyes.
“What do you want, birdbrain?”
Axel shifted, propping himself on one elbow and unintentionally exposing a fresh bite on his neck. His voice dropped, almost innocent. Dangerously sweet.
“I’m craving elote.”
Lucien arched a brow and finally looked at him, shamelessly letting his gaze trace the marks he himself had left. He reached out, cupping Axel’s jaw between his fingers, tilting his face to examine him more closely, thumb brushing over a recent burn.
“Pizza instead?” he offered, smirking.
“Stop smoking in my room, damn it,” Axel shot back, pulling away just enough to blush, though not enough to fully escape.
“Whatever you say, pretty little bird.”
The tone was teasing, but his body moved closer without asking permission. Lucien squeezed Axel’s thigh against the still-warm sheets, firm, possessive, as if reminding him exactly where he belonged in that moment.
Axel didn’t pull away.
He only huffed, annoyed… and clearly affected.
⸻
The final scene opened in a wide shot, calm after the storm.
An almost-empty pizza box rested on the bed, proof of a temporary truce. Axel leaned against the window, eating ice cream straight from the container, the night air cooling his still-sensitive skin.
Lucien stepped in behind him without warning, arms wrapping around him easily, his chin resting near Axel’s shoulder, far too close to his neck.
“You went with ice cream, little bird?”
“Stop calling me that,” Axel replied, without much conviction. “It’s like if I called you vampire… or bat.”
Lucien smiled against his neck, slow and dangerous, his breath sending a very real shiver down Axel’s spine.
“You can call me whatever you want.”
Axel laughed softly, leaning back into him without resisting.
“Stupid little devil.”
“Your stupid.”
They laughed together, but something in the angel’s chest cracked open slowly. He knew he loved being taken by Lucien, knew it even as he questioned whether it was right. It wasn’t ignorance. It was choice. And that was what hurt the most: he had fallen so hard for him that he could no longer pretend he didn’t understand the cost.