Un Gemito Dell'estinto, Ch14/Ch15
Sing with me now: THE ANGST HAS COME!!!!!!!!
I'm going to try to get the next chapter out today too, because even I am not this cruel as to give such an ending and leave you hanging for three more weeks. I named this Daylight Again after the Crosby Stills and Nash song. The lyrics don't match, necessarily, but the tune was BEAUTIFUL and fit so wonderfully as I wrote the last two pages of this chapter.
Series: xxxHOLIC
Characters: Doumeki, Watanuki, Yuuko
Couple: Doumeki/Watanuki
Title: Un Gemito Dell'estinto
Word Count: 3,214
Chapter: Chapter 14 - Daylight Again (14/19)
Status: Incomplete
Rating: Mature
Disclaimer: Yeah...right...I wish I had any sort of property to these books
Summery: Watanuki had thought it was all over. It had only been a vague fear of how badly being an archangel would affect his life until he was dragged into an eternal struggle where he alone could decide the outcome.
“Your apartment is small. I mean, really small. It barely takes ten steps to cover it all, and that includes bedroom, bathroom, kitchen, and living room. It’s no wonder you come over to my house so often! At least there, if you were in your angelic form, you could stretch your wings!”
Orphée had had little choice but to spend the night at Torin’s apartment. Much to his embarrassment, the archangel had refused to be detoured in his caring. Torin had washed him, though his hands never went farther down than a few inches below his shoulders. Even worse than that, he had dried him. The fight over the towel had been mortifyingly easy for Torin to win and he’d had to suffer through every inch of his body rubbed until there wasn’t a speck of wetness left on him. He also ignored the demon voice in his head that said he enjoyed it. To add insult to injury, Torin had carried him all the way to the bedroom and proceeded to make Orphée comfortable regardless of the expletives hurled in his direction by said subject. The only halfway decent thing that happened was that Torin had slept on the floor, which made him strangely, uncomfortably guilty.
Torin came back into the bedroom with a glass of hot tea and Orphée grumbled that he didn’t have beer. Considering the tiny state of the apartment, they’d had little choice but to return to their human disguises, otherwise ‘tiny’ would have given way to ‘exceptionally cramped’. And since Torin refused to let him get up on account of his head injury, which felt fine except when he hurried, Orphée had decided to take up being a house critic.
“Can’t you afford something better? Surely you could have even bought a house like me.”
The archangel sat down on the edge of the bed near Orphée’s knees and sipped his drink calmly. “I suppose I could have, but I didn’t see the point until now. I was the only one who ever came here and it doesn’t cost that much to feed just me.”
That brought up something he realized he didn’t know: what Torin did to make money. He’d never made it a secret that he was a writer, but Torin always seemed to have free time. He spent hours at Yuuko’s, doing whatever she told him to research next and hours at Orphée’s house. Not to mention on top of that, he’s always available to walk that kid home after school almost every damn day. Hmph, just because he can see spirits, he gets all the perks of having an archangel walk him home after school! It took him a minute to realize how that sounded, frankly jealous and almost as if he wanted to be a human going to school, and he hurriedly blamed it on his head injury.
Convenient things, near-concussions were. What a lovely scapegoat for any strange feelings he couldn’t explain away.
“What the hell do you do anyway, Torin? You’re not like, a host or something?” Despite the advent of giving the archangel a nickname, saying it all the time was still a dangerous proposition. The way hearing your True Name felt, like sending ripples through your body and soul, making all your instincts heighten, wasn’t a feeling someone wanted every single time you were being called. Orphée had gotten used to it with Lucifer, but after all these thousands of years, he wasn’t anymore. Once in a while, fine.
Torin looked distinctly uncomfortable with the question. “No. I was ‘scouted’ and asked one time, a long time ago, but I declined.”
“A model?”
“The same.”
“Well then, what do you do? You’re avoiding answering the question, which means it’s something that I have to know. This could be really good, giving me loads of ammunition with which to tease you until the end of time with.” He nudged Torin’s side with his bare foot and blinked when Torin blushed a little at the contact. Huh. Well, wasn’t that an…interesting reaction. He’d never touched Torin before, only the archangel had ever breeched that barrier before. Well, well, well. That reaction could make touching him so interestingly fun.
The voice that Torin spoke in was soft and he found that he couldn't tease the archangel about what he was doing. Not even about being a do-gooder with this.
“I work in a crisis intervention center. I’m called in when I’m needed. We keep in touch with the police, sometimes I’m even hired by them temporarily. Often times, if someone needs help, we can get them counseling or arrange for someone to be moved, or even hidden away if necessary.” He leveled a glance at Orphée and the demon found that his expression had become serious as he’d listened. “It’s not just for battered women, in case you were thinking that. It’s for anyone who needs help. There is no specific schedule set and work hours are flexible. It doesn’t pay a lot, but enough to maintain this place.”
For a second, Orphée couldn’t find his voice to say anything to that. He was a cruel bastard, that was true, and a demon, but even he wasn’t going insult that sort of thing. In this human world, sometimes the only thing that kept someone alive was a listening ear like that, or a helping hand, there long enough to help get back on their feet before they were on their own again. When he was sure he could speak with a composed tone, he said, “Figured you might work in a church or a doctor or something.”
“A church would draw notice of the other angels, and a doctor needs a degree.” Torin was the one that broke their locked gazes first and looked away.
“Times like this makes me wish I’d taken up smoking,” he muttered, waiting and relaxing when the tension in the atmosphere lifted. Orphée didn’t do well in exceptionally serious situations. Much to his embarrassment, he knew that a few months ago, he would have made a comment about Torin being a do-gooder, something sarcastic, but not now. Now, he…Oh hell, he was not about to even admit to liking the guy! It wasn’t more than tolerating him…right? “I mean, it’s not like it’d kill me.”
“How’s your head?” The tension had dissipated somewhat, but it was still there, so when Torin reached over, fingers heading for his hair, Orphée grabbed the archangel’s wrist and without warning flipped them over until he’d pinned the man to the bed. It caused his head to whine with pain at the sudden movement, and a few dizzying seconds of blurriness in his gaze. Their cups of tea landed on the floor, staining the carpet, but at least the ceramic cups hadn’t broken. He smirked at Torin’s shocked and frankly, uncomfortable face.
“You know, you like touching me an awful lot. Last two weeks or so, I’ve been fondled by you practically everywhere. Maybe I should get my share in all at once?”
Torin turned a brilliant, bright red at his teasing suggestion. Orphée hadn’t planned on it, but just seeing that reaction, he couldn't help pushing the limit. Now he really had to, if it made Torin uncomfortable. He loved teasing him, because it was so easy to get a rise out of him. Wondering what would happen, he poked the archangel in the chest and his smirk deepened when the man underneath him shifted, as if trying to draw away.
“Does my touching disgust you?” he asked, more in curiosity than anything else as he switched from randomly poking to actually touching, fingers wandering over Torin’s shoulders. Really, the man looked so thin, he’d never thought he might have some muscle on him after all.
“No,” came the whispered reply.
“Ah well, I suppose I shouldn’t ask. You’re an angel and you have to be nice, so of course you’d lie so I don’t ‘feel bad’.”
Without warning, his wrists were grabbed and held and he looked down in surprise at Torin’s fiery eyes. “Orphée…Naga, angels can’t lie. We can’t. That’s why it’s a very bad thing to ask us questions like, ‘does this make me look fat’? You’re going to get an honest answer. We can’t even tell little white lies.” The blush, which had faded, came back in full force, even deeper than before. “So, again, no, your touch doesn’t disgust me.”
His wrists were released and Orphée sat there for a minute or two in stunned silence. Well…wasn’t that even more interesting. That human game, truth or dare, would be hilarious. Sure they couldn’t lie, but if they didn’t want to say the truth, they’d have to do the dare no matter what. Ah well. His expression became teasing again and his hands moved down to touch fully on a strangely well-defined chest. He could feel the curves and shifts in the skin and muscle even through the shirt.
“In that case,” he teased, leaning down to let his breath and words curl around Torin’s ear, “you’ll let me touch wherever I want, right? If I don’t disgust you, then I must, by nature, find out how much I delight you, right? Because isn’t that the opposite of disgust?”
Torin gave an adorable little sound of uneasy agreement, drawing in a strange, shaking breath. Obviously he was being polite again, too polite to push the demon off. He really wasn’t able to do anything without Orphée around. He needed a keeper, a protector, he thought, ignoring how a feeling of fondness came with the stray notion.
More often than not, while Orphée’s hands explored with mainly only curiosity in mind, Torin would shift uncomfortably, sometimes away from his touch, sometimes unintentionally into it. The longer he remained in contact with the archangel’s body, the more the reactions confused him. He didn’t quite understand why the man had such a strong feeling about it one way or another. Even if his touch didn’t disgust, surely it wouldn’t be enough to do this? Even if Torin was ‘delicate’ and blushed at any mention of sex or kissing or anything else, even he couldn’t be the type to be overly sensitive like this.
Watching the blush and wanting to know how far this accommodating angel would go, this angel that couldn't possibly deny anyone anything, he dragged his fingertips lightly over that covered torso to press down on Torin’s stomach. The reaction wasn’t what he expected. He’d expected hearing a heavy but quiet intake of breath like he’d gotten used to hearing, but that wasn’t what he got. Underneath his touch, Torin’s stomach trembled and it was the only warning he had before suddenly, the archangel’s hand was around his neck and dragging his head down.
“Hey, what-”
A tongue worming into his mouth prevented further speech. Shocked would have been a mild word to describe Orphée’s current mental state. Dumbfounded didn’t even come close. Had Torin somehow suffered his own head injury? Had his brains been completely addled when the demon hadn’t been looking? It was like having to watch over a five year old, he had told himself, only to find that said five year old wasn’t five at all.
He’d never kissed an angel before, Torin being a man notwithstanding, and decided to show him a thing or two. Really, if the man couldn't even lie, he probably didn’t know how to kiss very well, either? He’d just have to teach him. As Orphée was one of those types that went with the flow, he pressed Torin back into the bed when he responded, and managed to grin at the same time when he felt more than heard a squeak of surprise at his participation.
Everyone had their breaking point, they said, but he hadn’t expected that Torin’s breaking-point-action would be to kiss the living daylights out of him. And really, though he’d never, ever admit it on pain of death, he was pretty damn good at kissing. Once Orphée had responded, the kiss had changed from impulsive, to slow and languid. Which was all well and good, but it wasn’t something he was used to. His lovers had always been exceptionally passionate, like a flare that burned brightly for a short while and then fluttered out. He had no experience with a simmering blaze that burst up and faded down, but never went out.
What’s that…oh! Well, well, WELL. Isn’t that an interesting development? I didn’t think angels had a sex drive. In fact, I’m still not quite sure why it’s up because it’s just me kissing him, but maybe he’s just ‘frustrated’. He seems the type to woo slowly, enjoy a girlfriend rather than just jump into the sack, but maybe she’s neglecting him? Well, I suppose since he did help me, I guess I owe him that. And of course he wasn’t looking forward to it, or even, ahem, anticipating it.
Unfortunately, even celestial or demonic beings needed to breathe, and Orphée broke the kiss. He rather enjoyed staring down at that dazed expression, eyes faintly hazy, and hair mussed from Orphée’s hands. He had, strangely, an incredible sex appeal like that and he felt his lust stirring a bit. With a smirk, he reached down and rubbed Torin’s arousal through his pants. “You know, if you wanted sex, you could have just said so.”
Apparently that was the wrong thing to say, because that sexy expression vanished in an instant, as if someone had thrown cold water all over him. Orphée blinked in surprise, more like indignant shock, as he was suddenly shoved off and his back hit the wall behind him hard. “What the hell, celestial?! You’re the one that came on to me! Really, come on! You should be glad! I’ve only ever done one man before and I even offered! Bloody hell, it’s just sex.”
Torin looked at him like a deer caught in the headlights of a car, and Orphée couldn’t comprehend the reason why such a deeply hurtful expression crossed the archangel’s face. After that, a sad understanding seemed to mix with it, something else Orphée couldn’t interpret the meaning of. It’s not like I stabbed him in the heart with a knife or anything! Why the hell is he staring at me like I’m the bad guy here?!
“I’m sorry. I have to go.”
“Go? Go where? This is your apartment.”
Torin just shook his head distractedly and nearly bolted out the door. The slam rang in Orphée’s ears and he slumped against the wall to sit more comfortably on the bed in total confusion. What just happened? When he’d started touching, it had only been meant to tease him. Sure, maybe he’d pushed too far, but then Torin had kissed him and really ‘liked’ what he’d been doing. So how did that ‘really liked’ get to be ‘stabbed with hurt’? He just didn’t understand…
Hell, that guy’s helpless. If I leave him out there like that, who knows what’ll happen to him. He’s not my responsibility; I’m only supposed to look after him just to make sure he doesn’t end up dead. I have no obligation to go after him, nor help him in any way. I shouldn’t even be feeling anything other than derision for the guy!
Even so, he found himself getting up, pulling on his shoes, and tearing off after said archangel. Then as soon as he found him, he was going to tie him up and force him to talk. The past month had been like walking on landmines with Torin, any misstep and suddenly something happened. Strange expressions and behavior if he’d managed to step on a sensitive subject; abrupt and weird demands, like wanting to be able to call Orphée ‘Naga’.
When he found him, though, his plan completely fell through. Torin didn’t need to be looked after, at least not by him. That terrible kid already had the situation well in hand. Watanuki’s slim arms had gone around Torin’s shoulders and the expression on his face was soft and full of understanding. The archangel had buried his face in the smaller boy’s shoulder and was…
Torin had never cried in front of him before.
Confusion melted away to resentful understanding. There wasn’t a girlfriend neglecting Torin’s needs. No, in fact, obviously the archangel preferred men. What really got him, though, was the revelation of what he’d almost been. What Torin had been physically asking of him. Something that Orphée’s pride would never, ever allow.
A substitute.
Obviously Torin had wanted Orphée to be a substitute. Oh, the archangel’s lips would never utter those words, but his body had said enough for him. Orphée had been chosen because he had black hair, same as the kid. And to think that he’d offered to do the other man because he…
Orphée silently took off running back to his apartment as fast as he could go. He wanted to outrun his own tears, which he would never, ever shed. Just because he could no longer hide from it, from the truth, didn’t mean that he’d ever cry for that bastard. He’d always known celestials were bastards, so high and mighty and a whole lot worse than any demon could ever be. After all, kindness and pity could hurt a hell of a lot worse than just hitting someone. He knew that they were even better masters of deception than demons because you could hide so many things behind a smile like that. Why had he thought Torin would have been any different?
Hell, Torin’s smile.
The hinges of his front door nearly came loose as he slammed it shut so hard, frantically locking each and every lock he had, bolting it tightly to keep out the world. His fingernails grew as he settled back into his demonic form out of instinct, and he dragged his nails down the door. Eight jagged edges appeared in the wood, deep gouges that mirrored the ones in his heart.
That smile was burned into his memory and yet, now that he’d stopped running, the truth had caught up to him again. He cared. Hell, he more than cared! He loved, as insane as that was to admit. He’d offered to do that to Torin because he cared, because he loved. He couldn’t even blame these stupid emotions on his head injury because he knew very well that they had to have started a long time ago for them to get this deep.
His knees gave out and he slowly slumped to the floor, his claws dragging down with him until they were just about six feet in length. He didn’t cry, not ever. He’d never, ever shed a single tear before in his life. Not even for Torin, Shekinah, god damn stupid celestial, would he cry.
Everything in the past made sense now, everything, both on his end and Torin’s. For him, Torin had been a special being; For Torin, he’d been a substitute for that stupid, hateful kid that had…never done anything wrong. It was going to take a long while to get over these feelings, even for a demon, after falling this hard. “This is why I hate celestials,” he muttered to the empty air.
Even to him, his voice sounded raw.
Series: xxxHOLIC
Characters: Doumeki, Watanuki, Yuuko
Couple: Doumeki/Watanuki
Title: Un Gemito Dell'estinto
Word Count: 3,734
Chapter: Chapter 15 - Don't You Realize? (15/19)
Status: Incomplete
Rating: Mature
Disclaimer: Yeah...right...I wish I had any sort of property to these books
Summery: Watanuki had thought it was all over. It had only been a vague fear of how badly being an archangel would affect his life until he was dragged into an eternal struggle where he alone could decide the outcome.
The tension was thick in the air when Watanuki walked into the shop that day. He learned out why when he saw Orphée lounging against the wall. Oddly enough, there was a cigarette dangling between his fingertips and he stared at it, as if he couldn't figure out why anyone would choose to smoke. When he stepped forward and Orphée looked up, the expression in his eyes was full of fire, and something very close to hate. It was a flicker, there and then gone in the blink of an eye, but that didn’t change the fact that he swore he saw it.
He remembered three days ago, how he’d been shocked when Torin had literally ran into him on his way to school. He’d looked so hurt, and needing to talk to someone so bad, that he’d forced Doumeki to go to school without him. Thankfully, his boyfriend wasn’t that pushy, or maybe he felt sympathy for the distraught expression on Torin’s face, that he’d continued on without too much argument.
“Torin-san? What’s wrong?”
“It hurts, Kimihiro.”
“What does? Your chest? You keep clutching it. If you’re injured, you should go to a doctor.”
“No doctor can cure this, Kimihiro. Not even God Himself can rid me of this pain.”
Torin’s tears had been as clear as diamonds then and there had been nothing else for him to do but hold the archangel as he sobbed out the whole sorry story. The longer he listened, the more Watanuki realized just how deeply Torin had been holding in his emotions. He’d learned enough about his taller companion that he was very free with his feelings and to hide them so securely, refusing them the light of day, must have hurt so badly. From the experience of someone who was used to hiding in what they really felt, Watanuki knew that for those that had never spent their life doing it, the cost of it was a great deal of pain.
He wanted to be angry at the demon for what he had put his friend through, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t blame him either. Likely Orphée had no idea about Torin’s feelings. What he did was a normal thing for the demon. He teased, he was rude, and he had no sense of propriety. That was his very nature, something as natural as to him as it was for Torin to express his feelings. No matter how he looked at it, it was a bad situation. Was there really no way to have a successful relationship between angel and demon?
Yuuko was watching Orphée contemplatively, like she knew what had happened. Likely she did, but not because Orphée confided in her about it. That was just what his boss did. Finally, her eyes looked to Watanuki standing awkwardly in the doorway. There just wasn’t a way to walk into that atmosphere easily. It was tense, stifling, thick with unnamed emotions and completely unwelcoming.
“Where is Torin-san?”
“He’s not here yet,” she answered, as Orphée hadn’t said a word, nor looked like he was going to. He lifted the cigarette to his lips and took a long pull on it, holding in the smoke and letting it out slowly from his mouth in a long exhale. He didn’t cough, like someone who had just taken up smoking would, and he just assumed it was because of the demon’s physiology.
“We’ve found an answer to your problem, Watanuki.” The smoke from Yuuko’s pipe seemed to meld with that of the cigarette, giving the room an ethereal sort of haze to it. Her voice put him on edge, because the way she said it made it seem like someone, most notably either Torin or himself, wouldn’t like what she was about to say. He tensed, but she didn’t see because her gaze had gone back to Orphée, who ignored both of them and stared at the door leading out into the garden.
“We’ve basically confirmed that the spirit was likely a denizen from another, different hell. What it did to get there, we don’t know and it doesn’t really matter. Suffice it to say that of all of us, the one who has the most ties to it would be Orphée. Given he’s a demon, there is a way for him to draw the spirit into his body for a time without displacing his own.”
“How does that get rid of it though?”
“Well, it doesn’t. That’s where you come in. I will teach you the banishment spell you need for this and you will use it against Orphée. Since Orphée is a demon of Hell in this world, it will do nothing against him. You can’t send him anywhere. However, the spell will go through him and catch onto the spirit he’s holding inside of him and send it back.” Her gaze sharpened on the demon, but Orphée didn’t even so much as twitch at the intense stare. “It’s risky though. We must do it before it tries to summon anything else again, but also have enough time to correctly teach you the spell. If you don’t, you can severely harm Orphée. You can’t send him anywhere, but the spell could sever his spirit from his body and then the spirit would have a very good body to control. One that could easily kill us.”
Watanuki’s eyes widened and his own gaze fell on the demon. Between the two of them, Orphée finally glanced at them, looking completely calm and frankly, disinterested. “What’s with the horrified stare, kid? Worried that I’d die?” He gave a ‘hmph’ sort of sound and shrugged his shoulders, perching the cigarette between his teeth. “Doesn’t matter, in the end. I’ve lived a long time and if I’m gonna go, I’m gonna go. It’s one less demon in the world, isn’t that right, celestial?”
Watanuki whirled, not having noticed Torin come up behind him in the doorway. The expression on his face, to the schoolboy, was so easy to read. Horror, front and foremost, and then after that, a desperate urge to deny it, to stop it before something could happen to Orphée. Hurt lingered even beyond that, because he knew that Orphée had finally been calling him by his name.
Now he wasn’t anymore. The feeling of closeness, of ‘friend-like’ between then that had been there the last two or three months had shattered. The wall that had separate Orphée from everyone else when he’d first met the demon, the wall that had gone away recently, had come back full force and stronger than before. His red eyes were cold, terribly cold, as they stared at Torin.
“I…never, ever thought that, Orphée. Never, not once,” the archangel behind him whispered, and he detected a faint hint of pleading for Orphée to understand. Watanuki dared not turn around for a second look. He was between the two of them and if he remained quiet, they wouldn’t notice him. This atmosphere, this conversation, wasn’t something he, or even Yuuko, should get in the middle of. It was a deep ache, old and intense, a rift full of ice and…hate.
Orphée gave a bark of laughter and stood up, snuffing out his cigarette and dropping it into the bowl where Yuuko knocked out the ashes from her pipe. “Yeah. Sure, whatever. Anyway, kid, put in some overtime today with the brat and learn that spell. I want to get rid of this thing so I don’t have to see any of you ever again.”
The door closed behind him…quietly, leaving only silence behind.
-0-
“If you come to back to Hell, you’ll definitely never see any of them again.”
Orphée snorted and kept walking, his hands in his pockets and trying not to appear as hurt and sullen as he felt. “Not surprised you heard all that, Luce. Eavesdropping was always one of your best abilities.”
An arm slung over his shoulder, but he pushed it off instantly, ignoring the look of surprise on the other demon’s face. He’d never minded being touched before, let Lucifer hug him whenever he wanted, but now the only one he wanted to touch him was Torin. And that he’d never allow ever again. He’d stab him through the heart, hurt him as badly as Torin had hurt him, before he’d ever allow that archangel to touch him again.
“Once this whole thing is done with, what are you going to do, if not come back to Hell?”
Orphée shrugged. “Don’t know. Don’t care. Probably just continue what I was doing before I got roped into it all. Write, play poker with the Imps, drink and find women to seduce. That’s always been fun, right?” Right? It had been once, and he couldn’t delude himself to think it ever would be again. Not after Torin.
For a moment there was silence and he hoped that Lucifer would just walk beside him in silence. Lucifer was his best friend, the only one he’d ever really gave a shit about. As much as Lucifer had confided in him, he’d done the same in return. There had been no secrets between them. The way Lucifer had always given him hugs before…the man must have thought of him as a really close brother and been so hurt when he’d disappeared. But he couldn’t go back, pretend like he hadn’t changed. Everything had changed.
“…Did you really love Shekinah that much?” Lucifer whispered.
The very air around them seemed to freeze at that name and as much as it filled him with affection and…love, it also filled him with a terrible desire to hurt and maim. “What the hell are you talking about, Luce? There’s no fucking way that a demon can love an angel. Ever. Nor angel to demon. It’s impossible and even if it was, do you really think I’d fall for such a lowlife prick like that?”
But his split-second hesitation for denying it had been noticed and Lucifer grabbed his elbow gently, stopping his walk. Orphée refused to look in that direction, refused to even glimpse his friend. His face remained in its stony mask and in his pockets, his hands clenched into fists. No matter how he might deny it, Lucifer would know. He’d always know. Just like that damn Yuuko.
God damn it all, I will not cry for an asshole like that. Never, never, NEVER! I will scream it to the world, if I have to. I refuse to shed a tear for that bastard, the bastard that thought he could play a demon. And even if he did, even if he played a demon and won, that doesn’t mean I’ll cry! I’m not some weak human! Demons who got played get revenge. But he knew he could never do anything to Torin. As bad as it was, he could not bear to do something to the man that he loved. Not loveable, dense, helpless Torin.
“Naga, look at me.”
He refused.
“Naga.”
Not a muscle in his neck twitched.
“Nagalsabael.”
Three times and he had no choice. When Lucifer used that tone, that soft, cajoling, but powerful voice with him and said his True Name like that…there was no denying. There was no holding back.
Lucifer was beautiful, as always. His soft, long hair was black satin and the wind shifted a few strands to touch his pale face. He’d lost his tan since creating Hell…His clothes were simple black street clothes and he didn’t look at all like the intimidating ruler of Hell that he was. Baby blue eyes, framed in a thin, aesthetic face, were watching him quietly and…with understanding. They cared.
It almost broke his resolve not to cry. Lucifer understood, was willing to listen. Lucifer was his friend… He sharp, pointed teeth bit his lip so hard that it pierced the skin and three perfect drops of blood welled up and perched there precariously. For one moment, he imagined Lucifer, as he had been some thousands of thousands of years ago during the war, when his hair had been icy blond. Not quite nearing the shade of silver that Torin’s was in angelic form, but… For one second, he imagined it and could almost believe that the caring in those blue eyes was that of Torin looking at him. And yet it was the same blue eyes that shattered that image, because Torin’s were as golden as the sun and as bright.
“What happened, Naga?”
Swallowing literally hurt, but Orphée did. “He doesn’t love me, Luce. I was just a fucking substitute for someone else ‘cause my hair was black.” His hands reached out to grip tightly on the sleeves of Lucifer’s shirt, balling them into fists.
Lucifer sighed and leaned forward, one of his hands twining in Orphée’s hair and bringing him closer. “It’s okay, Naga.” His lips shifted to press onto Orphée’s temple, giving him a comforting kiss and knowing that in this deserted street, it was all that Orphée would accept. Not a real hug, not where someone could see. Even this show of pain was a great allowance on a street like this. “I’m sorry, but it really will be okay. I-”
“Looking all sexy and aroused beneath me,” he interrupted, so frustrated and unable to stop his words from spilling out viciously. “Looking like that and thinking about someone else…what a fucking bastard! I won’t be a substitute, I won’t!”
“Wait, aroused? You said he was aroused?”
Lucifer’s confused tone made him look up. “Yeah, why?”
Lucifer didn’t say anything for a moment and he stared at Orphée in surprise. “You mean, you didn’t know?”
“Know what?” he demanded angrily.
“That angels-”
“…Orphée…”
Lucifer never did finish, because Torin’s quiet voice interrupted them. He jerked his head and stared at the angel. The wall he’d built to protect himself came slamming back down around him and he glared at him icily. He didn’t care that Torin came searching for him after leaving Yuuko’s shop. He didn’t. That thrill of instinctive joy wasn’t there.
Hell, how long had he been standing there?!
“What the hell do you want, celestial?”
Torin’s eyes were near to hate as he glared at Lucifer and stalked up, grabbing Orphée’s hand and pulling him away. The only reason he did it successfully was because Orphée was too surprised to fight it. Lucifer didn’t seem particularly shocked. His face was its usual poker expression that everyone but Orphée saw and he looked calm, though not entirely as disinterested as he would like to appear, no doubt. He’d never quite mastered that particular combination that Orphée did so well.
“Let me go, you fucking bastard!”
“You’re not taking him back down to Hell with you.”
“I think that’s for Naga to decide,” was the serene rejoinder.
Orphée really hated that he was being talked about like he wasn’t there. That was exceptionally frustrating. The contest of wills between the two didn’t even include him and he wasn’t about to bartered around as if he was some sort of woman between two men who loved the same person. For one thing, he wasn’t a woman, and for another, neither of these men loved him. At least not the way he wanted from Torin at any rate.
“I won’t let him go.”
“Like hell you will!” he screeched and yanked his arm out of the grip on his hand. “I can’t hit you without starting another fucking war, but don’t think for one second that I don’t want to. You ever touch me again, and make no mistake war or not, I’ll put a knife through your heart.”
Torin seemed shocked at his conviction and without even realizing it before now, Orphée knew that instead of the war, the one thing that caused him such strong emotions had changed to this archangel. That made him even hurt even more, made the betrayal that much deeper. Never. Never again.
Lucifer’s gaze flickered between them and he shrugged. “I’ll come by your house tomorrow, Naga, and see what’s changed then.” There was something like pain in his smile as he waved and walked away, something Orphée didn’t understand. He wanted to beg him to come back, stay by his side so that he’d had something to draw strength from, but he was left alone. Left alone with his knees going weak and barely able to keep up the front of being uncaring.
Pretending a show of indifference he didn’t feel, he turned on his heel and stalked back to his house, but Torin wasn’t about to be lost that easily. Frustrated but not wanting to let it show, he yanked out a cigarette and lighter from his pocket and lit it up as he unlocked his door. Why had he taken it up? For the simple reason that he knew that Torin wouldn’t like it. He didn’t want anything ‘good’ left in him anymore. He wanted to be bad, to be as evil as he could, because if you were evil, you couldn’t care. Or so they said, anyway.
The cigarette was snatched from his lips and stubbed out. Flaring with anger, he whirled around and snapped, “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?! I want you out, out! I want you gone! I never want to see you again!”
Torin bolted the locks and turned around. Those golden eyes that had captured him were full of fire and fever bright. This Torin he wasn’t used to. This Torin that was implacable, that refused to be moved, and wasn’t the pushover that Orphée had come to know. This was the one that his editor saw, that the other demons saw. It hurt, because he had thought he was special to the archangel too, because he saw something that no one else had.
What a big, fat lie.
“Were you going back to Hell?” was the quiet, but stern voice.
“Not like it fucking matters to you, celestial, but I wasn’t! Soon as I get you guys out of my hair, I’m going back to my life. Hell, maybe I’ll even travel. I can’t even stand to be in the same country as you right now!”
Hands gripped his shoulders tightly and he fought with all his might to get out of it, but Torin just wasn’t letting go. Between Torin fighting to hold on and he fighting to break free, they tipped over three chairs, knocked everything off his counter, and shattered one of his coffee tables before landing on the sofa.
“I said I’d stab you through the heart if you touched me again!” he screamed, hoping that Torin would buy that. He couldn’t do it, and he berated himself for being so weak. There was no way he could do that, but he hoped that Torin would believe it and let go. He couldn't think when those hands were on him.
“You already did, Naga.”
The name ripped through him, making him feel both purely clean and incredibly dirty. He kicked out, intensifying his struggles and they landed hard on the floor, but Torin’s hands only shifted to hold onto his wrists so that neither one of them landed a black eye. “I HATE YOU!” he screamed finally at the top of his lungs, an outlet for his feelings, and fell quiet, gasping and exhausted.
“I know,” Torin whispered, sounding so sad that he couldn’t help looking at him. A hand gently touched his neck and traveled up to hold his cheek. It seemed to paralyze him, that soft caress, and hoped that Torin didn’t notice. “I know, but I can’t help my feelings.”
“If he meant that god damn much to you, then you should have said something to the kid!”
“How many times do I have to tell you that I don’t feel that way about Kimihiro?!” It was the first time he’d ever heard Torin yell and it shocked him into silence. “Why don’t you understand?! Or are you putting me through this much pain on purpose?! I didn’t think you, of all people, would be this cruel!”
“Fuck you, celestial! Cruel?! I’ll tell you cruel! I will not be a substitute! You want to screw the kid so much, go do it with him! How dare you lead me on like that, make me think you want me, like you give a shit about me, and then back water! Go running to the object your fucking obsession! Well, gee, I’m so god damn sorry that I’m not sixteen and a bloody human school kid!”
Torin blinked and stared at him as he lay there, gasping after his outburst. “Surely you knew about the angels. Surely Lucifer would have told you.”
“Told me fucking what?!”
As he watched, Torin let him up and sat there in front of him on his knees. “Angels can’t…physically react unless we love someone. We…‘can’t get it up’ unless feelings are deeply strong of love.”
“…What?”
Torin began to laugh, one that sounded as if he could not believe how both of them completely missed the mark. Orphée propped himself up on his elbows and stared at him like he’d lost his mind. What the hell sort of nonsense was he spewing this time?!
Without warning, a hand moved around the back of his neck and pulled him into a deep kiss, just like it had three days ago. It felt significantly different this time around, knowing his feelings. It tasted of sunshine and life, power coiled and controlled. He jerked away when he felt not only his knees but also stomach go weak at the sweet sensation.
“Orphée, angels can’t get an erection without having the feelings to match.”
The earnest expression on the archangel’s face was priceless and he let the man stew before blurting out, “I’m surprised you can say the word erection with a straight face. How long were you practicing?”
Torin burst out laughing, this time sounding joyful, and wrapped his arms around Orphée tightly. “I’m sorry, Naga. I’ll tell you what I should have told you a long, long time ago: I love you. I love you so very, very much.”
Orphée blinked rapidly, refusing let even a hint of wetness appear. “’Bout time,” he muttered hoarsely and hugged him back just as tightly, reveling for the first time in knowing what it felt like to be completely happy.
I'm going to try to get the next chapter out today too, because even I am not this cruel as to give such an ending and leave you hanging for three more weeks. I named this Daylight Again after the Crosby Stills and Nash song. The lyrics don't match, necessarily, but the tune was BEAUTIFUL and fit so wonderfully as I wrote the last two pages of this chapter.
Series: xxxHOLIC
Characters: Doumeki, Watanuki, Yuuko
Couple: Doumeki/Watanuki
Title: Un Gemito Dell'estinto
Word Count: 3,214
Chapter: Chapter 14 - Daylight Again (14/19)
Status: Incomplete
Rating: Mature
Disclaimer: Yeah...right...I wish I had any sort of property to these books
Summery: Watanuki had thought it was all over. It had only been a vague fear of how badly being an archangel would affect his life until he was dragged into an eternal struggle where he alone could decide the outcome.
“Your apartment is small. I mean, really small. It barely takes ten steps to cover it all, and that includes bedroom, bathroom, kitchen, and living room. It’s no wonder you come over to my house so often! At least there, if you were in your angelic form, you could stretch your wings!”
Orphée had had little choice but to spend the night at Torin’s apartment. Much to his embarrassment, the archangel had refused to be detoured in his caring. Torin had washed him, though his hands never went farther down than a few inches below his shoulders. Even worse than that, he had dried him. The fight over the towel had been mortifyingly easy for Torin to win and he’d had to suffer through every inch of his body rubbed until there wasn’t a speck of wetness left on him. He also ignored the demon voice in his head that said he enjoyed it. To add insult to injury, Torin had carried him all the way to the bedroom and proceeded to make Orphée comfortable regardless of the expletives hurled in his direction by said subject. The only halfway decent thing that happened was that Torin had slept on the floor, which made him strangely, uncomfortably guilty.
Torin came back into the bedroom with a glass of hot tea and Orphée grumbled that he didn’t have beer. Considering the tiny state of the apartment, they’d had little choice but to return to their human disguises, otherwise ‘tiny’ would have given way to ‘exceptionally cramped’. And since Torin refused to let him get up on account of his head injury, which felt fine except when he hurried, Orphée had decided to take up being a house critic.
“Can’t you afford something better? Surely you could have even bought a house like me.”
The archangel sat down on the edge of the bed near Orphée’s knees and sipped his drink calmly. “I suppose I could have, but I didn’t see the point until now. I was the only one who ever came here and it doesn’t cost that much to feed just me.”
That brought up something he realized he didn’t know: what Torin did to make money. He’d never made it a secret that he was a writer, but Torin always seemed to have free time. He spent hours at Yuuko’s, doing whatever she told him to research next and hours at Orphée’s house. Not to mention on top of that, he’s always available to walk that kid home after school almost every damn day. Hmph, just because he can see spirits, he gets all the perks of having an archangel walk him home after school! It took him a minute to realize how that sounded, frankly jealous and almost as if he wanted to be a human going to school, and he hurriedly blamed it on his head injury.
Convenient things, near-concussions were. What a lovely scapegoat for any strange feelings he couldn’t explain away.
“What the hell do you do anyway, Torin? You’re not like, a host or something?” Despite the advent of giving the archangel a nickname, saying it all the time was still a dangerous proposition. The way hearing your True Name felt, like sending ripples through your body and soul, making all your instincts heighten, wasn’t a feeling someone wanted every single time you were being called. Orphée had gotten used to it with Lucifer, but after all these thousands of years, he wasn’t anymore. Once in a while, fine.
Torin looked distinctly uncomfortable with the question. “No. I was ‘scouted’ and asked one time, a long time ago, but I declined.”
“A model?”
“The same.”
“Well then, what do you do? You’re avoiding answering the question, which means it’s something that I have to know. This could be really good, giving me loads of ammunition with which to tease you until the end of time with.” He nudged Torin’s side with his bare foot and blinked when Torin blushed a little at the contact. Huh. Well, wasn’t that an…interesting reaction. He’d never touched Torin before, only the archangel had ever breeched that barrier before. Well, well, well. That reaction could make touching him so interestingly fun.
The voice that Torin spoke in was soft and he found that he couldn't tease the archangel about what he was doing. Not even about being a do-gooder with this.
“I work in a crisis intervention center. I’m called in when I’m needed. We keep in touch with the police, sometimes I’m even hired by them temporarily. Often times, if someone needs help, we can get them counseling or arrange for someone to be moved, or even hidden away if necessary.” He leveled a glance at Orphée and the demon found that his expression had become serious as he’d listened. “It’s not just for battered women, in case you were thinking that. It’s for anyone who needs help. There is no specific schedule set and work hours are flexible. It doesn’t pay a lot, but enough to maintain this place.”
For a second, Orphée couldn’t find his voice to say anything to that. He was a cruel bastard, that was true, and a demon, but even he wasn’t going insult that sort of thing. In this human world, sometimes the only thing that kept someone alive was a listening ear like that, or a helping hand, there long enough to help get back on their feet before they were on their own again. When he was sure he could speak with a composed tone, he said, “Figured you might work in a church or a doctor or something.”
“A church would draw notice of the other angels, and a doctor needs a degree.” Torin was the one that broke their locked gazes first and looked away.
“Times like this makes me wish I’d taken up smoking,” he muttered, waiting and relaxing when the tension in the atmosphere lifted. Orphée didn’t do well in exceptionally serious situations. Much to his embarrassment, he knew that a few months ago, he would have made a comment about Torin being a do-gooder, something sarcastic, but not now. Now, he…Oh hell, he was not about to even admit to liking the guy! It wasn’t more than tolerating him…right? “I mean, it’s not like it’d kill me.”
“How’s your head?” The tension had dissipated somewhat, but it was still there, so when Torin reached over, fingers heading for his hair, Orphée grabbed the archangel’s wrist and without warning flipped them over until he’d pinned the man to the bed. It caused his head to whine with pain at the sudden movement, and a few dizzying seconds of blurriness in his gaze. Their cups of tea landed on the floor, staining the carpet, but at least the ceramic cups hadn’t broken. He smirked at Torin’s shocked and frankly, uncomfortable face.
“You know, you like touching me an awful lot. Last two weeks or so, I’ve been fondled by you practically everywhere. Maybe I should get my share in all at once?”
Torin turned a brilliant, bright red at his teasing suggestion. Orphée hadn’t planned on it, but just seeing that reaction, he couldn't help pushing the limit. Now he really had to, if it made Torin uncomfortable. He loved teasing him, because it was so easy to get a rise out of him. Wondering what would happen, he poked the archangel in the chest and his smirk deepened when the man underneath him shifted, as if trying to draw away.
“Does my touching disgust you?” he asked, more in curiosity than anything else as he switched from randomly poking to actually touching, fingers wandering over Torin’s shoulders. Really, the man looked so thin, he’d never thought he might have some muscle on him after all.
“No,” came the whispered reply.
“Ah well, I suppose I shouldn’t ask. You’re an angel and you have to be nice, so of course you’d lie so I don’t ‘feel bad’.”
Without warning, his wrists were grabbed and held and he looked down in surprise at Torin’s fiery eyes. “Orphée…Naga, angels can’t lie. We can’t. That’s why it’s a very bad thing to ask us questions like, ‘does this make me look fat’? You’re going to get an honest answer. We can’t even tell little white lies.” The blush, which had faded, came back in full force, even deeper than before. “So, again, no, your touch doesn’t disgust me.”
His wrists were released and Orphée sat there for a minute or two in stunned silence. Well…wasn’t that even more interesting. That human game, truth or dare, would be hilarious. Sure they couldn’t lie, but if they didn’t want to say the truth, they’d have to do the dare no matter what. Ah well. His expression became teasing again and his hands moved down to touch fully on a strangely well-defined chest. He could feel the curves and shifts in the skin and muscle even through the shirt.
“In that case,” he teased, leaning down to let his breath and words curl around Torin’s ear, “you’ll let me touch wherever I want, right? If I don’t disgust you, then I must, by nature, find out how much I delight you, right? Because isn’t that the opposite of disgust?”
Torin gave an adorable little sound of uneasy agreement, drawing in a strange, shaking breath. Obviously he was being polite again, too polite to push the demon off. He really wasn’t able to do anything without Orphée around. He needed a keeper, a protector, he thought, ignoring how a feeling of fondness came with the stray notion.
More often than not, while Orphée’s hands explored with mainly only curiosity in mind, Torin would shift uncomfortably, sometimes away from his touch, sometimes unintentionally into it. The longer he remained in contact with the archangel’s body, the more the reactions confused him. He didn’t quite understand why the man had such a strong feeling about it one way or another. Even if his touch didn’t disgust, surely it wouldn’t be enough to do this? Even if Torin was ‘delicate’ and blushed at any mention of sex or kissing or anything else, even he couldn’t be the type to be overly sensitive like this.
Watching the blush and wanting to know how far this accommodating angel would go, this angel that couldn't possibly deny anyone anything, he dragged his fingertips lightly over that covered torso to press down on Torin’s stomach. The reaction wasn’t what he expected. He’d expected hearing a heavy but quiet intake of breath like he’d gotten used to hearing, but that wasn’t what he got. Underneath his touch, Torin’s stomach trembled and it was the only warning he had before suddenly, the archangel’s hand was around his neck and dragging his head down.
“Hey, what-”
A tongue worming into his mouth prevented further speech. Shocked would have been a mild word to describe Orphée’s current mental state. Dumbfounded didn’t even come close. Had Torin somehow suffered his own head injury? Had his brains been completely addled when the demon hadn’t been looking? It was like having to watch over a five year old, he had told himself, only to find that said five year old wasn’t five at all.
He’d never kissed an angel before, Torin being a man notwithstanding, and decided to show him a thing or two. Really, if the man couldn't even lie, he probably didn’t know how to kiss very well, either? He’d just have to teach him. As Orphée was one of those types that went with the flow, he pressed Torin back into the bed when he responded, and managed to grin at the same time when he felt more than heard a squeak of surprise at his participation.
Everyone had their breaking point, they said, but he hadn’t expected that Torin’s breaking-point-action would be to kiss the living daylights out of him. And really, though he’d never, ever admit it on pain of death, he was pretty damn good at kissing. Once Orphée had responded, the kiss had changed from impulsive, to slow and languid. Which was all well and good, but it wasn’t something he was used to. His lovers had always been exceptionally passionate, like a flare that burned brightly for a short while and then fluttered out. He had no experience with a simmering blaze that burst up and faded down, but never went out.
What’s that…oh! Well, well, WELL. Isn’t that an interesting development? I didn’t think angels had a sex drive. In fact, I’m still not quite sure why it’s up because it’s just me kissing him, but maybe he’s just ‘frustrated’. He seems the type to woo slowly, enjoy a girlfriend rather than just jump into the sack, but maybe she’s neglecting him? Well, I suppose since he did help me, I guess I owe him that. And of course he wasn’t looking forward to it, or even, ahem, anticipating it.
Unfortunately, even celestial or demonic beings needed to breathe, and Orphée broke the kiss. He rather enjoyed staring down at that dazed expression, eyes faintly hazy, and hair mussed from Orphée’s hands. He had, strangely, an incredible sex appeal like that and he felt his lust stirring a bit. With a smirk, he reached down and rubbed Torin’s arousal through his pants. “You know, if you wanted sex, you could have just said so.”
Apparently that was the wrong thing to say, because that sexy expression vanished in an instant, as if someone had thrown cold water all over him. Orphée blinked in surprise, more like indignant shock, as he was suddenly shoved off and his back hit the wall behind him hard. “What the hell, celestial?! You’re the one that came on to me! Really, come on! You should be glad! I’ve only ever done one man before and I even offered! Bloody hell, it’s just sex.”
Torin looked at him like a deer caught in the headlights of a car, and Orphée couldn’t comprehend the reason why such a deeply hurtful expression crossed the archangel’s face. After that, a sad understanding seemed to mix with it, something else Orphée couldn’t interpret the meaning of. It’s not like I stabbed him in the heart with a knife or anything! Why the hell is he staring at me like I’m the bad guy here?!
“I’m sorry. I have to go.”
“Go? Go where? This is your apartment.”
Torin just shook his head distractedly and nearly bolted out the door. The slam rang in Orphée’s ears and he slumped against the wall to sit more comfortably on the bed in total confusion. What just happened? When he’d started touching, it had only been meant to tease him. Sure, maybe he’d pushed too far, but then Torin had kissed him and really ‘liked’ what he’d been doing. So how did that ‘really liked’ get to be ‘stabbed with hurt’? He just didn’t understand…
Hell, that guy’s helpless. If I leave him out there like that, who knows what’ll happen to him. He’s not my responsibility; I’m only supposed to look after him just to make sure he doesn’t end up dead. I have no obligation to go after him, nor help him in any way. I shouldn’t even be feeling anything other than derision for the guy!
Even so, he found himself getting up, pulling on his shoes, and tearing off after said archangel. Then as soon as he found him, he was going to tie him up and force him to talk. The past month had been like walking on landmines with Torin, any misstep and suddenly something happened. Strange expressions and behavior if he’d managed to step on a sensitive subject; abrupt and weird demands, like wanting to be able to call Orphée ‘Naga’.
When he found him, though, his plan completely fell through. Torin didn’t need to be looked after, at least not by him. That terrible kid already had the situation well in hand. Watanuki’s slim arms had gone around Torin’s shoulders and the expression on his face was soft and full of understanding. The archangel had buried his face in the smaller boy’s shoulder and was…
Torin had never cried in front of him before.
Confusion melted away to resentful understanding. There wasn’t a girlfriend neglecting Torin’s needs. No, in fact, obviously the archangel preferred men. What really got him, though, was the revelation of what he’d almost been. What Torin had been physically asking of him. Something that Orphée’s pride would never, ever allow.
A substitute.
Obviously Torin had wanted Orphée to be a substitute. Oh, the archangel’s lips would never utter those words, but his body had said enough for him. Orphée had been chosen because he had black hair, same as the kid. And to think that he’d offered to do the other man because he…
Orphée silently took off running back to his apartment as fast as he could go. He wanted to outrun his own tears, which he would never, ever shed. Just because he could no longer hide from it, from the truth, didn’t mean that he’d ever cry for that bastard. He’d always known celestials were bastards, so high and mighty and a whole lot worse than any demon could ever be. After all, kindness and pity could hurt a hell of a lot worse than just hitting someone. He knew that they were even better masters of deception than demons because you could hide so many things behind a smile like that. Why had he thought Torin would have been any different?
Hell, Torin’s smile.
The hinges of his front door nearly came loose as he slammed it shut so hard, frantically locking each and every lock he had, bolting it tightly to keep out the world. His fingernails grew as he settled back into his demonic form out of instinct, and he dragged his nails down the door. Eight jagged edges appeared in the wood, deep gouges that mirrored the ones in his heart.
That smile was burned into his memory and yet, now that he’d stopped running, the truth had caught up to him again. He cared. Hell, he more than cared! He loved, as insane as that was to admit. He’d offered to do that to Torin because he cared, because he loved. He couldn’t even blame these stupid emotions on his head injury because he knew very well that they had to have started a long time ago for them to get this deep.
His knees gave out and he slowly slumped to the floor, his claws dragging down with him until they were just about six feet in length. He didn’t cry, not ever. He’d never, ever shed a single tear before in his life. Not even for Torin, Shekinah, god damn stupid celestial, would he cry.
Everything in the past made sense now, everything, both on his end and Torin’s. For him, Torin had been a special being; For Torin, he’d been a substitute for that stupid, hateful kid that had…never done anything wrong. It was going to take a long while to get over these feelings, even for a demon, after falling this hard. “This is why I hate celestials,” he muttered to the empty air.
Even to him, his voice sounded raw.
Series: xxxHOLIC
Characters: Doumeki, Watanuki, Yuuko
Couple: Doumeki/Watanuki
Title: Un Gemito Dell'estinto
Word Count: 3,734
Chapter: Chapter 15 - Don't You Realize? (15/19)
Status: Incomplete
Rating: Mature
Disclaimer: Yeah...right...I wish I had any sort of property to these books
Summery: Watanuki had thought it was all over. It had only been a vague fear of how badly being an archangel would affect his life until he was dragged into an eternal struggle where he alone could decide the outcome.
The tension was thick in the air when Watanuki walked into the shop that day. He learned out why when he saw Orphée lounging against the wall. Oddly enough, there was a cigarette dangling between his fingertips and he stared at it, as if he couldn't figure out why anyone would choose to smoke. When he stepped forward and Orphée looked up, the expression in his eyes was full of fire, and something very close to hate. It was a flicker, there and then gone in the blink of an eye, but that didn’t change the fact that he swore he saw it.
He remembered three days ago, how he’d been shocked when Torin had literally ran into him on his way to school. He’d looked so hurt, and needing to talk to someone so bad, that he’d forced Doumeki to go to school without him. Thankfully, his boyfriend wasn’t that pushy, or maybe he felt sympathy for the distraught expression on Torin’s face, that he’d continued on without too much argument.
“Torin-san? What’s wrong?”
“It hurts, Kimihiro.”
“What does? Your chest? You keep clutching it. If you’re injured, you should go to a doctor.”
“No doctor can cure this, Kimihiro. Not even God Himself can rid me of this pain.”
Torin’s tears had been as clear as diamonds then and there had been nothing else for him to do but hold the archangel as he sobbed out the whole sorry story. The longer he listened, the more Watanuki realized just how deeply Torin had been holding in his emotions. He’d learned enough about his taller companion that he was very free with his feelings and to hide them so securely, refusing them the light of day, must have hurt so badly. From the experience of someone who was used to hiding in what they really felt, Watanuki knew that for those that had never spent their life doing it, the cost of it was a great deal of pain.
He wanted to be angry at the demon for what he had put his friend through, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t blame him either. Likely Orphée had no idea about Torin’s feelings. What he did was a normal thing for the demon. He teased, he was rude, and he had no sense of propriety. That was his very nature, something as natural as to him as it was for Torin to express his feelings. No matter how he looked at it, it was a bad situation. Was there really no way to have a successful relationship between angel and demon?
Yuuko was watching Orphée contemplatively, like she knew what had happened. Likely she did, but not because Orphée confided in her about it. That was just what his boss did. Finally, her eyes looked to Watanuki standing awkwardly in the doorway. There just wasn’t a way to walk into that atmosphere easily. It was tense, stifling, thick with unnamed emotions and completely unwelcoming.
“Where is Torin-san?”
“He’s not here yet,” she answered, as Orphée hadn’t said a word, nor looked like he was going to. He lifted the cigarette to his lips and took a long pull on it, holding in the smoke and letting it out slowly from his mouth in a long exhale. He didn’t cough, like someone who had just taken up smoking would, and he just assumed it was because of the demon’s physiology.
“We’ve found an answer to your problem, Watanuki.” The smoke from Yuuko’s pipe seemed to meld with that of the cigarette, giving the room an ethereal sort of haze to it. Her voice put him on edge, because the way she said it made it seem like someone, most notably either Torin or himself, wouldn’t like what she was about to say. He tensed, but she didn’t see because her gaze had gone back to Orphée, who ignored both of them and stared at the door leading out into the garden.
“We’ve basically confirmed that the spirit was likely a denizen from another, different hell. What it did to get there, we don’t know and it doesn’t really matter. Suffice it to say that of all of us, the one who has the most ties to it would be Orphée. Given he’s a demon, there is a way for him to draw the spirit into his body for a time without displacing his own.”
“How does that get rid of it though?”
“Well, it doesn’t. That’s where you come in. I will teach you the banishment spell you need for this and you will use it against Orphée. Since Orphée is a demon of Hell in this world, it will do nothing against him. You can’t send him anywhere. However, the spell will go through him and catch onto the spirit he’s holding inside of him and send it back.” Her gaze sharpened on the demon, but Orphée didn’t even so much as twitch at the intense stare. “It’s risky though. We must do it before it tries to summon anything else again, but also have enough time to correctly teach you the spell. If you don’t, you can severely harm Orphée. You can’t send him anywhere, but the spell could sever his spirit from his body and then the spirit would have a very good body to control. One that could easily kill us.”
Watanuki’s eyes widened and his own gaze fell on the demon. Between the two of them, Orphée finally glanced at them, looking completely calm and frankly, disinterested. “What’s with the horrified stare, kid? Worried that I’d die?” He gave a ‘hmph’ sort of sound and shrugged his shoulders, perching the cigarette between his teeth. “Doesn’t matter, in the end. I’ve lived a long time and if I’m gonna go, I’m gonna go. It’s one less demon in the world, isn’t that right, celestial?”
Watanuki whirled, not having noticed Torin come up behind him in the doorway. The expression on his face, to the schoolboy, was so easy to read. Horror, front and foremost, and then after that, a desperate urge to deny it, to stop it before something could happen to Orphée. Hurt lingered even beyond that, because he knew that Orphée had finally been calling him by his name.
Now he wasn’t anymore. The feeling of closeness, of ‘friend-like’ between then that had been there the last two or three months had shattered. The wall that had separate Orphée from everyone else when he’d first met the demon, the wall that had gone away recently, had come back full force and stronger than before. His red eyes were cold, terribly cold, as they stared at Torin.
“I…never, ever thought that, Orphée. Never, not once,” the archangel behind him whispered, and he detected a faint hint of pleading for Orphée to understand. Watanuki dared not turn around for a second look. He was between the two of them and if he remained quiet, they wouldn’t notice him. This atmosphere, this conversation, wasn’t something he, or even Yuuko, should get in the middle of. It was a deep ache, old and intense, a rift full of ice and…hate.
Orphée gave a bark of laughter and stood up, snuffing out his cigarette and dropping it into the bowl where Yuuko knocked out the ashes from her pipe. “Yeah. Sure, whatever. Anyway, kid, put in some overtime today with the brat and learn that spell. I want to get rid of this thing so I don’t have to see any of you ever again.”
The door closed behind him…quietly, leaving only silence behind.
-0-
“If you come to back to Hell, you’ll definitely never see any of them again.”
Orphée snorted and kept walking, his hands in his pockets and trying not to appear as hurt and sullen as he felt. “Not surprised you heard all that, Luce. Eavesdropping was always one of your best abilities.”
An arm slung over his shoulder, but he pushed it off instantly, ignoring the look of surprise on the other demon’s face. He’d never minded being touched before, let Lucifer hug him whenever he wanted, but now the only one he wanted to touch him was Torin. And that he’d never allow ever again. He’d stab him through the heart, hurt him as badly as Torin had hurt him, before he’d ever allow that archangel to touch him again.
“Once this whole thing is done with, what are you going to do, if not come back to Hell?”
Orphée shrugged. “Don’t know. Don’t care. Probably just continue what I was doing before I got roped into it all. Write, play poker with the Imps, drink and find women to seduce. That’s always been fun, right?” Right? It had been once, and he couldn’t delude himself to think it ever would be again. Not after Torin.
For a moment there was silence and he hoped that Lucifer would just walk beside him in silence. Lucifer was his best friend, the only one he’d ever really gave a shit about. As much as Lucifer had confided in him, he’d done the same in return. There had been no secrets between them. The way Lucifer had always given him hugs before…the man must have thought of him as a really close brother and been so hurt when he’d disappeared. But he couldn’t go back, pretend like he hadn’t changed. Everything had changed.
“…Did you really love Shekinah that much?” Lucifer whispered.
The very air around them seemed to freeze at that name and as much as it filled him with affection and…love, it also filled him with a terrible desire to hurt and maim. “What the hell are you talking about, Luce? There’s no fucking way that a demon can love an angel. Ever. Nor angel to demon. It’s impossible and even if it was, do you really think I’d fall for such a lowlife prick like that?”
But his split-second hesitation for denying it had been noticed and Lucifer grabbed his elbow gently, stopping his walk. Orphée refused to look in that direction, refused to even glimpse his friend. His face remained in its stony mask and in his pockets, his hands clenched into fists. No matter how he might deny it, Lucifer would know. He’d always know. Just like that damn Yuuko.
God damn it all, I will not cry for an asshole like that. Never, never, NEVER! I will scream it to the world, if I have to. I refuse to shed a tear for that bastard, the bastard that thought he could play a demon. And even if he did, even if he played a demon and won, that doesn’t mean I’ll cry! I’m not some weak human! Demons who got played get revenge. But he knew he could never do anything to Torin. As bad as it was, he could not bear to do something to the man that he loved. Not loveable, dense, helpless Torin.
“Naga, look at me.”
He refused.
“Naga.”
Not a muscle in his neck twitched.
“Nagalsabael.”
Three times and he had no choice. When Lucifer used that tone, that soft, cajoling, but powerful voice with him and said his True Name like that…there was no denying. There was no holding back.
Lucifer was beautiful, as always. His soft, long hair was black satin and the wind shifted a few strands to touch his pale face. He’d lost his tan since creating Hell…His clothes were simple black street clothes and he didn’t look at all like the intimidating ruler of Hell that he was. Baby blue eyes, framed in a thin, aesthetic face, were watching him quietly and…with understanding. They cared.
It almost broke his resolve not to cry. Lucifer understood, was willing to listen. Lucifer was his friend… He sharp, pointed teeth bit his lip so hard that it pierced the skin and three perfect drops of blood welled up and perched there precariously. For one moment, he imagined Lucifer, as he had been some thousands of thousands of years ago during the war, when his hair had been icy blond. Not quite nearing the shade of silver that Torin’s was in angelic form, but… For one second, he imagined it and could almost believe that the caring in those blue eyes was that of Torin looking at him. And yet it was the same blue eyes that shattered that image, because Torin’s were as golden as the sun and as bright.
“What happened, Naga?”
Swallowing literally hurt, but Orphée did. “He doesn’t love me, Luce. I was just a fucking substitute for someone else ‘cause my hair was black.” His hands reached out to grip tightly on the sleeves of Lucifer’s shirt, balling them into fists.
Lucifer sighed and leaned forward, one of his hands twining in Orphée’s hair and bringing him closer. “It’s okay, Naga.” His lips shifted to press onto Orphée’s temple, giving him a comforting kiss and knowing that in this deserted street, it was all that Orphée would accept. Not a real hug, not where someone could see. Even this show of pain was a great allowance on a street like this. “I’m sorry, but it really will be okay. I-”
“Looking all sexy and aroused beneath me,” he interrupted, so frustrated and unable to stop his words from spilling out viciously. “Looking like that and thinking about someone else…what a fucking bastard! I won’t be a substitute, I won’t!”
“Wait, aroused? You said he was aroused?”
Lucifer’s confused tone made him look up. “Yeah, why?”
Lucifer didn’t say anything for a moment and he stared at Orphée in surprise. “You mean, you didn’t know?”
“Know what?” he demanded angrily.
“That angels-”
“…Orphée…”
Lucifer never did finish, because Torin’s quiet voice interrupted them. He jerked his head and stared at the angel. The wall he’d built to protect himself came slamming back down around him and he glared at him icily. He didn’t care that Torin came searching for him after leaving Yuuko’s shop. He didn’t. That thrill of instinctive joy wasn’t there.
Hell, how long had he been standing there?!
“What the hell do you want, celestial?”
Torin’s eyes were near to hate as he glared at Lucifer and stalked up, grabbing Orphée’s hand and pulling him away. The only reason he did it successfully was because Orphée was too surprised to fight it. Lucifer didn’t seem particularly shocked. His face was its usual poker expression that everyone but Orphée saw and he looked calm, though not entirely as disinterested as he would like to appear, no doubt. He’d never quite mastered that particular combination that Orphée did so well.
“Let me go, you fucking bastard!”
“You’re not taking him back down to Hell with you.”
“I think that’s for Naga to decide,” was the serene rejoinder.
Orphée really hated that he was being talked about like he wasn’t there. That was exceptionally frustrating. The contest of wills between the two didn’t even include him and he wasn’t about to bartered around as if he was some sort of woman between two men who loved the same person. For one thing, he wasn’t a woman, and for another, neither of these men loved him. At least not the way he wanted from Torin at any rate.
“I won’t let him go.”
“Like hell you will!” he screeched and yanked his arm out of the grip on his hand. “I can’t hit you without starting another fucking war, but don’t think for one second that I don’t want to. You ever touch me again, and make no mistake war or not, I’ll put a knife through your heart.”
Torin seemed shocked at his conviction and without even realizing it before now, Orphée knew that instead of the war, the one thing that caused him such strong emotions had changed to this archangel. That made him even hurt even more, made the betrayal that much deeper. Never. Never again.
Lucifer’s gaze flickered between them and he shrugged. “I’ll come by your house tomorrow, Naga, and see what’s changed then.” There was something like pain in his smile as he waved and walked away, something Orphée didn’t understand. He wanted to beg him to come back, stay by his side so that he’d had something to draw strength from, but he was left alone. Left alone with his knees going weak and barely able to keep up the front of being uncaring.
Pretending a show of indifference he didn’t feel, he turned on his heel and stalked back to his house, but Torin wasn’t about to be lost that easily. Frustrated but not wanting to let it show, he yanked out a cigarette and lighter from his pocket and lit it up as he unlocked his door. Why had he taken it up? For the simple reason that he knew that Torin wouldn’t like it. He didn’t want anything ‘good’ left in him anymore. He wanted to be bad, to be as evil as he could, because if you were evil, you couldn’t care. Or so they said, anyway.
The cigarette was snatched from his lips and stubbed out. Flaring with anger, he whirled around and snapped, “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?! I want you out, out! I want you gone! I never want to see you again!”
Torin bolted the locks and turned around. Those golden eyes that had captured him were full of fire and fever bright. This Torin he wasn’t used to. This Torin that was implacable, that refused to be moved, and wasn’t the pushover that Orphée had come to know. This was the one that his editor saw, that the other demons saw. It hurt, because he had thought he was special to the archangel too, because he saw something that no one else had.
What a big, fat lie.
“Were you going back to Hell?” was the quiet, but stern voice.
“Not like it fucking matters to you, celestial, but I wasn’t! Soon as I get you guys out of my hair, I’m going back to my life. Hell, maybe I’ll even travel. I can’t even stand to be in the same country as you right now!”
Hands gripped his shoulders tightly and he fought with all his might to get out of it, but Torin just wasn’t letting go. Between Torin fighting to hold on and he fighting to break free, they tipped over three chairs, knocked everything off his counter, and shattered one of his coffee tables before landing on the sofa.
“I said I’d stab you through the heart if you touched me again!” he screamed, hoping that Torin would buy that. He couldn’t do it, and he berated himself for being so weak. There was no way he could do that, but he hoped that Torin would believe it and let go. He couldn't think when those hands were on him.
“You already did, Naga.”
The name ripped through him, making him feel both purely clean and incredibly dirty. He kicked out, intensifying his struggles and they landed hard on the floor, but Torin’s hands only shifted to hold onto his wrists so that neither one of them landed a black eye. “I HATE YOU!” he screamed finally at the top of his lungs, an outlet for his feelings, and fell quiet, gasping and exhausted.
“I know,” Torin whispered, sounding so sad that he couldn’t help looking at him. A hand gently touched his neck and traveled up to hold his cheek. It seemed to paralyze him, that soft caress, and hoped that Torin didn’t notice. “I know, but I can’t help my feelings.”
“If he meant that god damn much to you, then you should have said something to the kid!”
“How many times do I have to tell you that I don’t feel that way about Kimihiro?!” It was the first time he’d ever heard Torin yell and it shocked him into silence. “Why don’t you understand?! Or are you putting me through this much pain on purpose?! I didn’t think you, of all people, would be this cruel!”
“Fuck you, celestial! Cruel?! I’ll tell you cruel! I will not be a substitute! You want to screw the kid so much, go do it with him! How dare you lead me on like that, make me think you want me, like you give a shit about me, and then back water! Go running to the object your fucking obsession! Well, gee, I’m so god damn sorry that I’m not sixteen and a bloody human school kid!”
Torin blinked and stared at him as he lay there, gasping after his outburst. “Surely you knew about the angels. Surely Lucifer would have told you.”
“Told me fucking what?!”
As he watched, Torin let him up and sat there in front of him on his knees. “Angels can’t…physically react unless we love someone. We…‘can’t get it up’ unless feelings are deeply strong of love.”
“…What?”
Torin began to laugh, one that sounded as if he could not believe how both of them completely missed the mark. Orphée propped himself up on his elbows and stared at him like he’d lost his mind. What the hell sort of nonsense was he spewing this time?!
Without warning, a hand moved around the back of his neck and pulled him into a deep kiss, just like it had three days ago. It felt significantly different this time around, knowing his feelings. It tasted of sunshine and life, power coiled and controlled. He jerked away when he felt not only his knees but also stomach go weak at the sweet sensation.
“Orphée, angels can’t get an erection without having the feelings to match.”
The earnest expression on the archangel’s face was priceless and he let the man stew before blurting out, “I’m surprised you can say the word erection with a straight face. How long were you practicing?”
Torin burst out laughing, this time sounding joyful, and wrapped his arms around Orphée tightly. “I’m sorry, Naga. I’ll tell you what I should have told you a long, long time ago: I love you. I love you so very, very much.”
Orphée blinked rapidly, refusing let even a hint of wetness appear. “’Bout time,” he muttered hoarsely and hugged him back just as tightly, reveling for the first time in knowing what it felt like to be completely happy.