Work Text:
Aki loses two months of his life. It’s funny, he thinks, how can he save a devil when he hates them with every inch of his being.
Once the scene is cleared, Aki finds that Angel is quiet— well, quieter than usually Angel is. There’s this crestfallen look on his face, and Aki doesn’t get why the devil looks so forlorn. Is it because two months of Aki’s already shortened lifespan have been subtracted? Is Angel guilty?
Aki snorts.
Guilt is a human emotion. He doesn’t expect a devil to feel it.
Aki’s leaning against a street pole, his lungs filled with smoke. He exhales, clouds of gray drifting past his lips. Why did I save him?
Loud sirens of police cars and ambulances wail through the air. The entire place is a mess, crumbling buildings and cars overthrown across the street.
Amidst the bustling crowd, Aki spots a head of autumn red.
His brows raise as Angel takes the long route, taking care to stay away from everyone. Aki has noticed that about the devil— how he stays on the outskirts, so far from everyone. Away. Away. Away — the Angel Devil can kill you peacefully.
Angel comes to pause before him, his round amber eyes peeking up at him.
“Hayakawa Aki,” Angel starts, and Aki exhales another cloud of smoke.
“Make a contract with me.”
Aki inhales harshly, the smoke puffing in his lungs. He coughs, thumping his chest until the smoke clears through his mouth and nostrils.
Angel remains unperturbed, looking at him with that quiet stare.
Aki sets him with a questioning gaze. “What?”
“Make,” Angel says carefully, “a contract with me.”
Aki’s brows crease. “Why?”
Last he heard, the Angel Devil wasn’t willing to make a contract with anyone. “Contracts are too much work,” Angel had said in boredom, absently staring at a faraway ice cream stand. Aki had gone ahead and brought back a double vanilla scoop for the devil. Angel had taken the cone with such care that their hands didn’t touch before he licked at the cream, speaking around the sweetness in his mouth. “And I hate doing work.”
“Because I want to,” Angel shrugs.
Aki faintly remembers Makima saying how strong the Angel Devil was.
“So,” Angel begins again, continuing to stare at him. “Make a contract with me.”
“What do I get in return?” Aki inquires bluntly. What he gets is what matters. If the offer was good enough then maybe Aki can negotiate. Maybe. He has two years to his name anyway.
“My powers,” Angel answers smoothly. He reaches inside the golden halo hovering above his head and licks his parched lips before speaking.
“Usage: two years.”
A sword, long and silver, is drawn out. Its golden handle glints in the emerging sunlight, the jagged blade shimmering. Angel flips it in his hand before he stabs the blade into the earth between them.
“Whenever you want, whatever you want.” Angel tells him. “I’ll make anything you ask of me.”
Aki stares at the sword, his hand itching to grasp the handle. He plucks the cigarette out of his mouth, stray ashes fluttering to the ground.
There has to be a catch. There always is when it comes to contracts. Aki knows— his lifespan, his skin, a front seat view to his death— he’s made too many contracts.
Aki frowns. “What do you want in return?”
The Angel Devil is bored and hates humanity, what can an indifferent devil like him even want for a contract?
Those amber eyes shift onto Aki’s side. Aki resists the urge to hide his arm behind his back when Angel peeks at the same hand he had grabbed the devil with.
“Your touch.”
Aki lets the words sink in. He blinks once, twice, then thrice.
“What?”
“Your touch,” Angel affirms with a nod.
Aki fixes him with a calculating stare, silently prompting to explain. Angel sighs. “I get to touch you whenever and wherever I want. That’s it.”
Aki narrows his eyes, a scowl gracing his features. “You wanna feed off my life force that much?”
“No?” Angel blinks at that, brows furrowing a little. “Your life span won’t shorten when I touch you, Hayakawa.”
Aki bites his bottom lip, contemplating the offer briefly. The Angel Devil clasps his hands behind his back, those round eyes back on Aki.
“Really?” Aki swallows. It can’t be that easy. “Nothing will happen to me when we touch?”
Angel rolls his eyes but nods. “Yes, those would be the terms of our contract.”
Aki’s brows crease together as Angel grabs the handle of the sword and tugs it out of the asphalt. He raises it in the air, the blade glinting in the sunlight. He holds it out to Aki, blinking slowly.
“I give you my power,” he says, offering the weapon. “And in return you give me your touch without me shortening your lifespan.”
Aki contemplates for a moment. A long minute of silence stretches between them until Angel’s hand falters, the corners of his lips twitching downwards. He begins dropping his hand—
“Alright.”
A rougher, bigger hand clasps over his, and Angel’s eyes flare up with mild surprise.
Aki grips the handle tighter, his long fingers dwarfing Angel’s smaller fist under his hold.
“It’s a contract.” Aki vows sternly.
Angel’s wings flutter in the crisp morning air before they fold onto his back again. Angel slowly withdraws his hand, staring as Aki expertly twirls the sword in the air. He weighs the sword, and finds it lighter than the cursed katana on his back. He can tell how sharp the blade is when he stabs it back into the road side, the edge slicing through the bitumen like a hot knife in butter.
He looks back at Angel and the devil is curling and uncurling the fingers of his hand Aki had touched.
“So,” Aki sets a hand on hip, cigarette forgotten on the ground. “What do you want in return now?”
Angel traces his curled fist with a fond thumb. The white feathers of his wings rustle briefly and settle back once more.
“That was enough,” Angel nods.
He keeps rubbing his hand till the moment they separate.
When they meet the next time, Aki resists the urge to flinch when Angel steps near him. A small hand reaches out, and Aki tries not to rip away when Angel grabs the hem of his suit jacket.
Aki imagines how ridiculous he must look. He’s giving out orders for the patrol while a devil is holding the corner of his black jacket, like a shy toddler too scared to be separated from their mother.
Thankfully, none of the newbies comment on it. They do look perplexed though, and Aki snaps at a rookie to pay attention when he keeps occasionally glancing at Angel.
When the two of them are left alone, Aki turns to Angel with a look of clear annoyance on his face.
Angel shamelessly stares back at him, his tenacious grip only tightening into the dark fabric.
Aki sighs.
He takes Angel’s hand and places it on his wrist, the devil’s fingers surprisingly warm around his skin. Angel’s staring at him again, eyes like marbles.
“You’re gonna wrinkle my suit,” Aki grumbles and blinks when Angel’s fingers tighten around his wrist even more.
If Aki’s pulse quickens, then he’s thankful that Angel doesn’t mention it. They spend the rest of their patrol like that.
Aki slides into the back seat. Angel’s wings contract, touching the roof of the car as they settle in side by side.
“Hayakawa-senpai,” the driver acknowledges, holding out a bundle of papers. “Makima-san sent these.”
Aki nods, taking the papers. He hasn’t started reading them when Angel promptly sidles closer to him.
Aki’s nails dig into the papers. His entire form stiffens when Angel drops his head on Aki’s arm, his height too short to reach Aki’s shoulder. Surprised blue eyes shift sideways, taking in the crown of auburn hair and the hovering halo under his gaze.
Angel squishes his cheek against Aki’s arm, a loud yawn escaping his lips.
“I’m going to nap.” He announces.
Aki nearly drops the papers when Angel nuzzles Aki’s arm once more and mumbles. “Wake me up when we get there.”
“… alright,” Aki says slowly.
The driver sets them with a wide-eyed stare through the back view mirror and Aki shakes his head. He gets a slow nod in answer and Aki straightens the papers, reading the text.
After a few minutes, the car hits a bump. Aki stills as Angel jostles beside him.
The devil doesn’t wake up.
An arm silently drapes across Angel’s shoulders, gently tugging him closer. Angel’s breathing grows steady once more, and Aki straightens the paper in one hand again.
He resumes his reading.
He holds a hand out, long fingers unfurled and palm flat. Aki decides he needs range today.
“Spear.” Aki says thoughtfully.
Angel’s hand hooks into his golden halo and retrieves a silver spear crested with ruby-like stones. “Usage: five years.”
Aki takes the spear, weighing it in his hand. He’s about to turn towards the haunted building when Angel pipes up again.
“Aki,” Angel calls, and Aki pauses. “Yes?”
“I want a hug.”
Aki whirls around swiftly, his head almost snapping off his neck. “…what?”
With that usual impassive look on his face, Angel holds his arms out.
“Hug.” He repeats.
A faint blush creeps up the back of Aki’s neck. He bites the inside of his cheek and nods solemnly. This was a part of their contract— it doesn’t mean anything.
“Alright,” he murmurs.
Aki stretches his arms wide, his heart thudding away in his chest as smaller arms gradually curl around his waist.
Aki stands there frozen as Angel buries his face in Aki’s chest. Aki uncurls his fingers, and the spear hits the pavement with a loud clatter. His hands hovering unsurely over the devil’s back, Aki doesn’t know where to place them. Angel tightens his arms around Aki’s waist and squeezes.
Aki feels his face grow warm and he eventually returns the embrace, awkwardly patting Angel’s back— because Aki doesn’t remember the last time he was hugged. Or touched. Or held.
Angel is small and warm and even though he’s trying to somehow squeeze himself into Aki, his meek strength doesn’t do anything to hurt his partner.
“Warm,” he breathes into Aki’s dress shirt.
The quiet pulse in Aki’s ears settles into a resounding, deep vibrato before Aki hugs him back tighter.
Their momentary peace is shattered when Denji soars over them, crashing straight into a building with a booming crash. Right, Aki looks at the destroyed building, Angel still holding onto him before he peeks down at the forgotten spear at their feet. The mission.
“I don’t remember.”
Faint music fills the air from the party down below. The moon is full, the stars are bright and Angel is swinging his sock-clad feet in the air, shoes and suit jacket discarded behind him.
They’re sitting on a rooftop.
“When I last touched someone before you.” Angel admits.
A cigarette is pinched between Aki’s fingers, his lips parting to puff out smoke. “Yeah?”
Angel hums, idly swinging his feet. “I don’t remember anything to be honest.”
For a moment, Aki wants to question the numerous clusters of lifespans the devil has with him. The ones the Angel Devil uses to make weapons with. Instead, he takes another drag. Nicotine fills his lungs, his muscles going lax.
His own jacket is neatly folded and set beside him, Angel on his right as they sit on the ledge of the building, peering down at the garden party where people are laughing and eating and dancing. Aki’s sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, the night air cool and crisp.
“It’s nice, you know.” He hears Angel say, voice strangely soft and distant. “To…”
He doesn’t finish and Aki doesn’t push him to. Silence falls between them and Angel pipes up once more. “Wish I could do that.”
Aki puffs out another cloud of gray. “What?”
“Dancing.”
A breeze clears away the smoke, tugging on inky black locks and long auburn hair. Aki turns to look at Angel, the devil still peering down at the partying crowd below.
“You’ve never danced before?” Aki arches a brow. He faintly recalls Denji and Power goofily gyrating to some American song that they didn’t even know the meaning of.
“Not with someone,” Angel answers with pure honesty.
Aki pauses briefly. He stubs the cigarette end on the space beside him and shuffles back on the rooftop, standing on his feet. “Get up.”
Angel lets out a yawn, his wings unfurling and stretching. He shifts around, searching for his shoes and halts on seeing a hand being offered to him.
Amber eyes peer upwards, meeting obsidian blues and Aki raises his brows, holding his hand out.
Angel stares back. He gingerly clasps Aki’s hand and allows himself to be helped on his feet. Aki tugs him closer, one hand sliding down to clasp the devil’s waist.
White wings flutter momentarily. Aki takes Angel’s arms and guides them around his neck.
“Just don’t step on my feet,” Aki warns, but his voice is kind. Soothing.
Angel nods dazedly and follows Aki’s practised movements. Aki doesn’t know the lyrics of the song but the tune is gentle and easy enough to glide to. And even if Angel accidentally stomps on his feet, Aki doesn’t mind.
Angel’s not wearing shoes anyway.
Aki spits out his coffee.
Denji screeches about food wastage, leaning down on the table to lick it clean. Power complains about how it’s not fair that it’s only wrong when she spits out food and Aki— Aki can’t believe his ears.
“You want what?” He asks incredulously.
Angel is seated beside him in the shared booth, Power and Denji bickering across from them. The idiots are beginning to argue over the last piece of mochi and Aki assumes he should intervene before they start a bloodbath in the diner. Although, he has bigger things to worry about at the moment. Like the absurd demand of the devil he’s contracted with.
“A kiss,” Angel echoes.
Aki feels the warmth of a blush covering his face, blue eyes wide. Angel is looking at him patiently.
“Are you serious?”
“Do I have the face of a joker?” Angel deadpans.
Aki crinkles his nose, placing his cup back on the table with a clink. He turns towards Angel fully, cheeks warm and Angel innocently cocks his head to the side.
“Kiss, please.” Angel taps his cheek with a finger.
Aki swallows, his warm face heating up even more. “On the cheek?”
Angel’s brows raise faintly. Aki swears the devil’s lips curl into an amusing smirk before he nods. “Yes.”
Aki breathes out a sigh of relief and scowls when Angel smirks at him. There’s this tease in the devil’s voice, something that’s barely ever there. “Unless you don’t want it to be on the cheek—“
“Oh, shut up.” Aki snorts.
He leans over to press his lips to the side of Angel’s face.
The devils hums fondly, possibly glowing in unmasked delight when Aki sits back, an amused look on his warm face.
“Happy now?”
Angel grabs his chocolate shake with both hands and speaks around the twisting straw in his mouth. “Very.”
Across from them, Power tackles Denji to the floor. Angel noisily slurps away as Aki curses and nearly hikes over the table to get to the screeching duo on the floor.
The first time Angel comes to Aki’s apartment, they’re both drenched in blood— thankfully it’s not their own. Done with the day’s rather messy job, they have the afternoon free now. Denji is cooking some monstrosity in the kitchen and Power is screaming at the TV with Meowy purring in her lap.
Judging by the nauseating scent in the air, Aki should really check on what Denji is making. He finds he doesn’t have the energy to do it now when he’s soaked in devil blood.
“Sorry,” Angel apologises for the blood footprints he leaves behind on the floor. Aki looks down, noting how his own footprints are bigger in comparison and shrugs. “It’s fine. Denji’s on cleaning duty anyway.”
He opens the door of his bathroom, stepping inside and pauses when Angel looms behind him, hesitant.
“I’ll wait outside,” Angel says.
Aki purses his lips thoughtfully. He catches Angel’s wrist, dragging the devil in as well. The door falls shut behind them.
“Come on.”
Steam curls in the air, the bathtub filling with hot water. The slanted mirror above the sink goes foggy as Aki peels off the bloodied suit. He feels the knots in his back easing the moment he slips into the tub. His black hair hangs loose, wet and sticking to his pale forehead as he leans against the porcelain.
The bathtub is a tight fit, water spilling over the sides when Angel cautiously eases in as well. His wings withdraw, cushioning behind him as he sits before Aki, hands folding over his lap, the scalding hot water reaching his shoulders.
Between them, the clear water begins to turn pink.
Aki twists the faucet open again, a hiss in the air as the tub starts to refill.
“Move closer,” Aki instructs.
Angel obliges, tipping his face forward. Aki takes his chin, scrubbing his nail over the dried blood on Angel’s cheek. The devil closes his eyes and Aki’s lips curl downwards.
“You’re covered in blood,” Aki comments flatly, wiping at the dry bloodstain again.
Angel cracks an eye open, lazily gazing at him. “I wonder who’s fault is that.”
“Shut up.” Perhaps slashing the devil’s belly open today wasn’t the best idea, blood had rained over the entire place after all. “You’re the one who gave me that damn dagger.”
“I gave you what you asked for.”
Aki ignores him completely. He grabs a bottle of shampoo and flicks the top cap open.
“Close your eyes.”
Angel dips his head, blood clumped hair slipping past his shoulders. Aki squirts a fairly hefty amount of shampoo in his hand and rubs his palms together until the thick liquid is a foam of baby blue bubbles.
His fingers thread through bloodied auburn locks, working through the clumped hair. The pads of his calloused fingers rub against Angel’s scalp and Aki gently scrubs his partner’s head, careful not to get shampoo in the devil’s eye.
He’s worked through the blood-stiffened locks when Angel quietly shudders before him. Aki acts like he doesn’t see it. Like he doesn’t see the way Angel’s shoulders shake momentarily and if two stray drops of water trickle down Angel’s chin, quietly falling into the steaming water they’re both almost submerged in, Aki pretends that it must be the water dripping from those autumn red locks.
.
.
.
.
.
Angel’s fingertips are left wrinkled once they get out of the bath.
He’s looking down at them in faint fascination, the bloodied water in the tub draining away noisily in the background. Aki pats himself dry with a towel, snorting in amusement as Angel continues staring at his hands, sitting on the edge of the tub.
He drapes a fresh towel over Angel’s head.
The devil hums and swings his bare feet as Aki fluffs the towel over wet auburn locks, leaving them a little damp.
Aki slips into a graying shirt and sweatpants. For Angel, he’s picked out a fading green tee shirt and matching shorts from Denji’s closet.
The oversized shirt seemingly swallows the Angel Devil, falling off one pale shoulder and the hem touches the mid of his skinny thighs.
Angel picks at the goofy dinosaur on his shirt, marvelling over the cartoonish design. His fingers are curled around Aki’s wrist again when Aki guides them out the bathroom.
Aki steadies him when Angel nearly skids over the floor in his pink cat socks— they’re Power’s— and Aki checks on the kitchen, finds it intact and goes to his bedroom, Angel trailing after him.
Aki plops down on the mattress. He scoots over to the side, folding his arms behind his head. Inky black locks splayed across the pillow, blue eyes shift onto the curious devil standing by the bedside.
“Move over.” Angel frowns.
Aki rolls his eyes. “If I move more, I’ll fall off the bed.”
With a twitch of his nose, Angel slides onto the mattress beside him. Aki keeps staring at the ceiling, that unfamiliar warmth pooling in his chest when Angel shifts onto his side, his arms circling around Aki’s mid and the Angel Devil is pressing his face against the side of Aki’s ribcage, snuggling against him.
“It’s not fair,” Angel’s voice is a soft, muffled rumble.
Aki glances down at his halo. “What?”
“That…” Angel pauses for a lingering heartbeat. His small fingers dig into Aki’s shirt, clenching the fabric weakly before he settles with a huff, nudging Aki’s legs with his bare knees.
“You’re hogging most of the bed.”
One of his wings shifts, falling across their pressed torsos, soft white feathers rustling as they drop over Aki.
Angel’s breaths are quiet, his nose buried into Aki’s side.
Aki stares at the ceiling till he falls asleep.
.
.
.
.
.
Warm, featherlike soft lips brush against his face. Aki’s eyelids flutter open, his arms beginning to ache since they are still crossed behind his head. He didn’t move in his sleep.
Angel’s hovering over him, the angelic halo above him spilling light over them in a soft golden glow. The rest of the world is dark, a sliver of moonlight slipping through the crack between the thick curtains.
“You’re awake.” Angel murmurs.
His heart is rushing, warmth in his chest and Aki mumbles, lashes fluttering before his eyelids fall shut again. “Yeah.”
Angel dips his head down once more, lips brushing against Aki’s forehead. He peppers gentle kisses all over Aki’s face— his cheeks, his nose, his chin. It’s a nice thing to wake up to.
Obsidian blue eyes crack open when Angel pulls back, breathing softly. The faint gold light of the halo makes Angel’s eyes look so warm. Like honey.
“Sorry for waking you up.”
He doesn’t sound apologetic at all.
“It’s okay.” Aki hums.
He unfolds his arms and drags one hand up Angel’s back, between those snowy wings until his palm curves over Angel’s nape. Aki tugs the devil closer, and Angel closes his eyes, his wings fluttering and stretching over both of them.
Angel’s lips are soft and cold— like vanilla ice cream.
Aki breathes quietly as those wings encase him from both sides. Long, callused fingers thread into damp auburn locks and Aki lets Angel bury his nose in the crook of Aki’s neck.
His wings tighten around them, caging them in until all Aki can feel is the silent thud of Angel’s drumming heartbeat.