[closed log] He doesn't look a thing like Jesus but he talks like a gentleman

[silkcranes]

Who; Sasuke and Neji
What; Sasuke finds Neji a bit mangled, and now Neji owes him one.
When; Right after Neji made Hinata emo Hinata left.
Where; The clearing by that temple, and then Sasuke's apartment.
Warnings; Sasuke and his licking/molestation habits, Neji having lived under a rock, and OH. Neji and his pwnsome ability to make anyone emo in this game. EVER.


It was extremely quiet when Hinata was gone.

Neji stared blankly at the space she'd occupied for a long moment, fingers pressed to the cloth covering his wound as he attempted to force his vision into submission. It swam, pulsing erratically so that three-dimensional became two, then one, then nothing at all as blackness pulsed in and out. His hand was warm and sticky when he retracted it, but he felt more clear-headed now that his female companion was gone. Be it because she was in a realm that no one could touch or because she had left him as he had wished, Neji wasn't sure. Either way, it didn't matter and he could hardly concentrate on the reason.

The first aid kit Hinata had kicked was stranded on the grass before the half-broken temple. Some malevolent will, or perhaps Neji's own, had kept the monks from emerging, but it didn't stop making the place look sullied and used. The ground where he and Itachi had fought had been trampled by their feet, the pillar that Itachi had thrown him into was cracked and broken, and the ground was soaked in blood. More blood than was possible, it seemed, but Neji had lost a lot and he had cut Itachi very deep. Taking a few steps toward the scattered remnants of the first aid kit, Neji picked up a bandage and wiped what cracked and dry blood he could feel from his face. Itachi's--all that but which came from his own lip. When he felt without knowing that his cleanup was sufficient, Neji gathered the rest of the supplies and replaced them.

Then he took a new shirt from the sky because his was sliced and bloody, and though it didn't look anything like what a human would wear, he put it on carefully and painfully and watched the red from his shoulder soak a growing circle in the odd, white material. And here he had thought the wound had stopped bleeding. But it wouldn't be that simple. In fact, it was hardly as simple as a stab wound, which in itself wasn't simple at all. That sword had special properties, of course. Just like his own. He could feel them already at work, though it was difficult to tell through the weakness of blood loss that was mounting.

He walked to the temple steps and placed the first aid kit beside him, wondering how much time he had to cross town before his body gave up on him. Wondering, more importantly, if Naruto were home. Because if he was, Neji could not return. Naruto would invariably do something stupid if he found out what had happened, and he was always much more determined than Hinata. One arm supported his weight as the other belonging to his injured right shoulder lay carefully in his lap as Neji felt his body tremble lightly and waited for some answer to come to him.

They say the road to Hell is paved with good intentions.

It wasn't unusual to find Sasuke near some religious edifice or another. There was a certain. . .charm to such buildings after all. A charm that lured him quietly, though whether it was speaking to what little there was left of his angelic innocence [of which, Sasuke was certain -though not quite - there existed little of] or to his demonic desire to sully the damn place he was rather uncertain. Either way, he always found a point in his day by which he could walk, if nothing else, past one of those quaint little sanctuaries of hope and prayer.

He wondered if it was sheer coincidence that these little walks of his always seem to coincide with him having just finished some wicked deed or another. Today's happened to be more of the usual fare - unabashed sex with what would have been a one of the more piously devoted [though that was hardly in the strictest of religious ideals, for this particular young man was tied inextricably with his duty to the sword, which for all manner of thinking was about as close to religious purity as Sasuke saw nowadays].

Shirt collar unbuttoned, the black material an ever startling shade against the paleness of his skin, Sasuke had been about to stop when the scent of blood attracted his attention. Almost like a shark in water, how easily detectable [delectable] he found that smell now. Maybe it had something to do with the air of Earth, singed with war and death, rebirth and that bitch of a plague, hope [oh, how he both loathed and hated that little creature of Pandora].

Steps were silent as he walked his way closer, halting only when it become all too apparent that this smelled nothing of humanity and everything of what he had been searching for. Only it was Neji who greeted him, broken and death-bound, instead of that other Fallen. Lips pulled into a displeased smile.
“Tch. . . .couldn't hold your own it seems.” What would have been a purr if not for the obvious overtones of frustration.

And yet, even as he spoke, he was already surveying the damage, figuring out how to save the one before. Good intentions were truly damning. Sasuke eyed the medical box warily. “Little good that will do you, Neji.”

There it was, the little bit of damnation that would see him ended. It was, he supposed, a world full of danger---and all the more dangerous for him because of who he was. Though things, he was beginning to think, were not supposed to work out this way. Surely all of this wasn't in His divine plan? Equipping evil with the greater ammunition, seeing one of His own (His closest, part of Neji's mind supplied, one of His most loved) cut down? And it was all rather amusing, in his half-lucid state. Because he could have avoided this moment by simply accepting Hinata's full help instead of letting pride dictate his actions. And now...well. Neji had no illusion that opposite would not finish opposite, no matter who the opposite was.

And of course it had to be Sasuke.

Neji let out a short noise which could have been identified as one of either abutment or pain; Neji wasn't even sure that he could identify it. He lifted his head, though, peered through the strands of his hair that were clogged with Itachi's blood and his own, and peered at Sasuke as steadily as he could. He supposed that this would do. After all, wouldn't it be appropriate that Sasuke be the one to do it? He had escaped from the one considered greater, whom Neji had viewed in Heaven with a mixture of wariness and love, and now, Sasuke who he had only ever felt great affection---in the way that only an angel could---and a certain sense of companionship toward, could be the one to take the glory.

It was a little unfair to them both, but still appropriate. Neji couldn't even get his sword to materialize, and cursed the human body.

"You wouldn't know a thing about it." His pride supplied, voice soft but still slightly less than weak. He knew he needed more than simple cloth. More than humanity could afford him now, but Neji was beginning to think that this whole idea of luck was against him, now.

"Come like a moth to the light, have you." Neji finally said after another moment, voice slightly emptier this time, though tinged with a slackened bit of bitterness. "Like a wolf to the kill."

“I'm not about to feed off of his glory,” Sasuke sneered, painfully offended by the notion that he would have anything to do that entailed following after in the wake of such a Fallen's doings.

Which might - might - explain what he was now about to do.

Fingers were swift [how easily it came now after so many centuries] to remove the button down shirt he wore, words spilling from his lips like rain - or blood. Soft. Inaudible. Obviously nothing of a language that had graced human mouths. It was like poetry, but dark and dangerous, beautiful but lethal. And as if to prove that point, words unseen took form over his shirt, slithering blackly through the dark material with a quick flick of a serpentine tail and the shimmer of sleek scale.

Then all was still. No more words, only a smirk built upon satisfaction. Nothing he expected Neji to understand because what did the Voice of God know of his Fall, of his dreams of revenge that all somehow played into this very act that would have labeled him kind.

He wasn't, or so his pride, stated. This just worked out for him. Well, it had the potential to work out for him.

There was a crisp scratch of tearing cloth. And not even a look of remorse from Sasuke as he pulled apart the $300 shirt into strips. A dime a dozen as they said here on Earth. He had plenty more where that came from, and even if it was his last, there was nothing to stop him from buying another. The look he gave the angel said as much.

Without asking permission, Sasuke exposed Neji's injured shoulder and immediately set about wrapping the strips of his shirt around it. Binding and concealing.

“Like you could do anything to stop that kind of wound. . . . .” But there was the hint of something else in that statement, the unsaid afterthought of this will only last until I get you somewhere else.

And that was a harsh thing to accept. Even now, Itachi was getting the best of him. There was only so much he could do, but at least he could prevent a death. It was little reconciliation considering the time it would take him to undo everything his so-called brother had wrought.

He glared weakly, too slow to stop Sasuke's movements though he had been more than half-aware of what the other was doing, thoughts still coherent enough to recognize the use of shirt, of incantation that was maybe malevolent, but not intended for some great harm. The words that Neji wanted, the ones that he tried to call up from his barren throat (Stop, there's no right with this) would not come and died as he hissed a noise that could have been the closest thing to a curse that an angel would ever utter.

But the cloth was cool and almost soothing, though it did little to mask the pain and only barely hid the throbbing from Neji's far too observant senses. It felt wrong, letting Sasuke do this even if he was only doing to---what? Spite Itachi? The notion was so basic that Neji barely understood it. It was not built into him. (But he did wonder, as cloth slipped against skin, if evil could truly combat evil and aid good. It seemed against the nature of things---so much so that feverishly, he began to think that maybe he was not good at all. Or perhaps Sasuke was not evil. But then he quite clearly remembered the Fall, and there was no question as to what that had meant.)

"You have no idea....what I am capable of." Pride insisted. His mind disguised it as the glory of God, but it was pride through and through. At no other time had he been more aware of the fact that he had almost Fallen than this. It seemed in God's absence that his tongue was more than willing to pick up the slack. Even so, the mark on his forehead throbbed painfully---greater than even the pain in his shoulder, because it was of God. A silent warning that he was toeing the line.

Dancing on the edge of the pit, so to say.

It took effort to hold his head up and shoulders back (and was painful to do so, but that fact only showed on his face for a moment as he sat up and faced Sasuke, forcing the other into focus against his body's will), but he did it. "You think I would accept aid from you when I have already denied another's?" His words belied everything, because he already had, however much his mind told him it was unwillingly.

“Che. . . .you have no choice,” Sasuke stated coldly as he tied the last piece of cloth in place. “And whoever you told to piss off must've been a pathetic piece of work to get pushed over by someone in your state.”

And he was, by no means, a pathetic piece of work. A piece of work, yes, but hardly pitiable and sure as Hell not someone to be pushed over by a few weak glares and pride-infused words that seemed to falter over their own waning strength. The look he gave Neji was quite secure in the fact that he was, as of this moment, the stronger one. There wasn't a damn thing Neji could say to him to make him stop.

Which he pounded into the other's ego by deftly pulling up the angel by his other arm. Sasuke toed the medical quit experimentally. “Walk, or I'll drag you the whole way.”

For as cold as it came out, that statement was seriously undermined by the almost reverent way Sasuke handled Neji. Grip was strong but not fierce, gentle in the way a bird dog's mouth carried but never crushed its target. Despite that though, there was nothing in his stance that said Neji had a choice in the matter. It was clearly as Sasuke intended it. Once Neji recovered, they would go from there, but for the moment, he was calling every single shot.

As for that fact, the Fallen Cherub found himself smiling despite himself, in spite of all the roiling anger that threatened to burst forth because of a chance missed. He had been so damn close. . .and yet it was Neji. . .

Well, the Metatron could help him out. Or would. Sasuke would see to that. Besides, there was nothing wrong with taking the Voice of God to his bed. Nothing at all. [Though there was something tugging on his thoughts, annoying in its protests that this was not one he should be taking lightly, should be not taking advantage of because of weakness caused by the same angel who had not only pulled him down but had kicked him when he was. And he hated it, hated that shred of what might have been called good.]

Sasuke smirked solemnly as he waited to see if Neji would protest. . .if he could that was.

Neji opened his mouth, his defense of Hinata ready because it had been bred into him. Created as he was created, put right into his structure so seamlessly that Neji hardly noticed that it wasn't his thoughts that were dictating the words so easily manifesting in his throat, but something else, not a part of him. But the words didn't come. His mouth shut because there was truth in that statement. That he could break Hinata with a single word and that was weakness. Besides, who was he to defend her when she would see him bleed?

Nearly blanching, the natural reflex to tug away from that grip was hardly acted upon as his legs took his weight and found him standing. The tug was too easy, the give-in too quick as it became more than apparent that letting Sasuke have his way was really the only option at this point. He could still walk, of course, though fatigue was tugging at his muscles and he was slowly begging to think that he would be rather directionally challenged if he were actually asked to navigate. But he was up, the movement still graceful because that was inbred as well, and angels could be nothing but even in a state of human death.

And it was the human part of him, that body that was causing this trouble. Were humans not so weak, were they not so susceptible this would be different. But it wasn't different, and the human body was this, and it was all strangely clear to Neji just how much of the old Sasuke was left in the fallen Sasuke through it. Because a touch like this, almost gentle but not, should certainly not belong to someone damned. But Sasuke was, and Neji was quite certain that it was a mixture of memory and whatever effects Itachi's sword had pushed through him that was making him recognize the careful part of what couldn't really be careful.

"Why are you doing this." He asked tiredly, finding himself leaning against Sasuke and being unable to stop it---a point that more than irritated him. It was a question that he fully didn't expect to be returned honestly, but he was unsure of what to expect anymore. This was certainly not something that he could have fathomed, even if he'd had all the pieces and circumstances laid before him. Predicting Sasuke's moves was impossible now, and Neji could only react. Reacting though, was getting harder and harder as the seconds ticked forward.

There were many answers to that question. Ones that Sasuke entertained each in turn but gave away none of his thought processes anywhere on his face, in his posture. He alone knew the truth of why, and even for him that answer was so deeply buried underneath all the black and hate that he had nurtured that even if he had wanted to reply with it he wouldn't have known how.

So, he settled for what came easiest.

“Because you have answers I need.” It was a seamless admission, because there was truth to that too. He wanted to know about Itachi, about why there was this fight, about why it had been Neji when the Fallen Seraph could hardly be bothered to look in his direction. Again, always someone else, and Sasuke couldn't help but loathed himself for that. Obviously, the problem sat within him and not with the one who had dragged him down into the depths of Hell.

Even so, he grip remained considerate of Neji's wounds, as well as his pace and step. Nothing to jar what was already jarred. Nothing to grate upon wounds and nerves that Sasuke knew had seen their mortal limits.
And those actions tore apart everything that might have said that this was something entirely selfish. [He could, however, easily argue that it was. Because even if Neji refused to answer, there was pleasure to be had in tempting one of Heaven's greatest.] Sasuke adjusted his grip carefully, taking more of the angel's weight upon him like it was nothing.

He didn't even bother to respond to the looks of pedestrians as they passed by. Though there were words slipping smoothly from his lips that promised nothing of interest to the all-too human ears of those around them. It took only a look into his own eyes, the blackness drained and replaced by a vivid red, for those words to take effect. Soon enough, they could walk without the flood of stares, only those of the rare few who had not met his gaze.

But of course.

Maybe it wasn't everything, but it was enough. Neji wasn't sure he wanted to hear the rest (because surely saving this body was not a requirement to gain such answers which Sasuke was looking for), and was more than willing to settle for the answer that he already knew. Had he been less exhausted, less wounded and perhaps more alive, perhaps then he would have demanded something greater for his words. After all, how many had heard him speak for himself instead of for God? How many had truly heard him speak for his own sake? There was only a handful, that was for certain. Only Neji knew how few people he even bothered to give response to, to acknowledge.

And it made sense, that Sasuke would want that. It was the only answer that really did make sense, for it was the one thing in Sasuke's history that had never really changed. His holiness had, his state of being. But always there was Itachi. And Neji could think up a host of questions that Sasuke would want to answer, because who but Neji could have more answers? Certainly no one in Hell. Only God was omnipotent and He had left some great weight on Neji's shoulders, but nothing more. No great answers other than the ones that Neji already knew.

"Need," he echoed, lips frighteningly pale drawing into a poorly crafted smirk, but one all the same. "How very desperate." Him, and nothing else. He was desperate. At least this body was.

His steps were half the width they normally were, but it seemed that such a mechanical thing did not matter. Sasuke appeared to be compensating for that in some strange form of consideration that was really undue for what he wanted, but though he questioned it, there was no way Neji would bring such a thing to his lips. Increasing his pace was something he wasn't certain this body would allow him to do, and again he grew frustrated. Frustrated with these limitations, with the glances that people gave and the odd way their eyes seemed to show no concern at all. And then that lack of concern faded to nothing, and it was as if they were walking on an empty world with statues that moved but never glanced their way.

He liked attention. Not all attention, mind you, and though he lacked it from the one person he wanted it from the most, it didn't stop him from pushing it away from anyone else. Like at this moment. God only knew the kinds of people he was passing up for potential corruption by blocking out their desire to notice him, but at the moment, he found himself strangely preoccupied with wanting to get Neji away from the crowded streets and up into the secure silence of his apartment.

With only one glance spared towards the angel, Sasuke kept up the slow-but-steady pace that was so unlike him until the large building loomed before him. Sleek and neat, with perfectly potted plants and a bellman at the door, who took no notice of the state that Neji was in and merely opened the door for them both with his usual grating smile of supplication. Sasuke didn't even bother to return the gesture. He suspected the man was used to it.

With polished marble floors and gold trimmed borders, the apartment lobby seemed more like an up-scale hotel ready to cater to only the most exclusive of patrons. Of which, and most places in the world could attest to, Sasuke was. But money tended to accumulate when you knew how and when to play the right people. Whatever it took to get what he wanted, and on Earth, payment in some form or another was a necessity.
Retrieving the silver key from his left pocket, Sasuke navigated the angel into a waiting [funny how he never seemed to have to wait for one] elevator. The apartment resided on the top floor [seven, ironically], occupied most of it actually. Something about the skyline of the city. . .and the Catholic school next door where the dorm rooms resided on the uppermost floors [a fact he'd let Neji discover for himself].

“You shouldn't have fought him,” was all Sasuke could offer. And he did nothing to hide the bitterness in his voice over that - the fact that it had been Neji and not himself to confront the Fallen who had neither home in Heaven or Hell.

The angel's body was shifted, Sasuke's hand sliding down along Neji's side before fingers took steady purchase against his ribs. It was odd to feel how shallowly a body could draw breath, how weak a heat could beat and yet still life was maintained. The Fallen Cherub pressed his head to the back of the elevator wall and sighed.

Maybe God really had intended humans to be his greatest creation. If so, then all they were- he and Neji and everyone like them - were nothing but failures by design.

He wasn't sure where they were going. This normally would have bothered him, but Neji was far too lost in a realm of half-consciousness at this point to give much more than a cursory glance around when they entered the apartment lobby, a place grand enough for a palace and with little else to suggest otherwise. When Sasuke guided him into the metal box, however--small, cramped, silver and yet still with that same high-class atmosphere--Neji took interest. As much interest as a cat would take to being placed in a carrier, for that was almost exactly what it seemed like when the doors closed and Neji's stomach (already in a disarray) felt like it was hooked by an invisible cane and pulled up into the very center of his chest. It didn't help that Neji couldn't quite tell which direction they were moving.

Sasuke's hand on his ribs brought him back though, and though the fingers were hardly digging it was more painful than it should be. He'd been kicked there, he thought slowly; the wound had taken a back-burner in his mind due to the ache in his shoulder that, while subsiding slightly, was still rather prominent. Neji shifted uncomfortably under Sasuke's hold and let out a sharp breath at what he supposed was meant as a rebuke.

"He would have pursued me had I not." He said stiffly. The truth, he was sure. And Neji wasn't the kind to back down from a fight; running would have been shameful, even to one that was supposed to hold the glory of God and be guitless. He lifted his head, wishing it were clearer and looked at Sasuke, who seemed far too suited for this place. To know that, to see that the fallen angel found anywhere but Heaven fitting to reside in jerked Neji rather uncomfortably, and he swallowed something bitter in the back of his throat.

Something chirped above their heads and Neji almost started, but lacked the energy to do so. His eyes merely lifted in alarm as the doors opened and showed them a blank and empty floor, elegantly decorated and with a smooth feeling that Neji wasn't sure how humans had ever been able to capture. But he had never been inside a building such as this, and he wondered if the box, like the subway, had taken them to a different part of the city--one that he simply hadn't known had existed.

His eyes connected with Sasuke's again before he would even move into the hall. "I would think that you would be one to know that I don't stand down." He raised an eyebrow and began to count the years between them again, suddenly wondering if he had ever been anything more than a symbol of waste to any of those that resided in Heaven despite having the warrior's title. God's scribe, empty whenever he's not being used. And Hinata wondered why he never spoke to her.

“Tch. . .you speak as if you actually mean something to him,” Sasuke retorted bitterly. Itachi pursue Neji? He could hardly stand to think that the Voice of God ranked so highly on the Fallen Seraph's list when he himself was treated as though nothing. No, worse than nothing. A disgrace. Weak and pathetic and only worth the words to hammer that point home.

He couldn't help his reaction. It came without beckoning. Natural. As though this was all he knew now. Perhaps it was. And he couldn't stand that about him, how easily Itachi took over his mind and his actions and shot forth words before he could even think to counter them. Couldn't stand it because it was weakness. He was completely unable to free himself from the fallen angel's image.

When the doors slide open, Sasuke gave no thought to the newness of it all for Neji. Was it truly possible that the Angel knew nothing of such things, even though he had sat so loftily above it all by God's side? The look on Neji's face betrayed his inexperience, and that was enough to pull Sasuke's thoughts from his failures to the things he could accomplish - like teaching Neji.

However, he didn't bother to explain what an elevator was. Instead, he simply stepped out into the hallway, urging the angel along with him. Still considerate, though nothing about him gave away the fact that that was a conscious choice, Sasuke continued on until they hit halfway. On the left side, it was obvious no other doors existed save for this last specimen.

Tolerance was not something he was known for. That applied to having neighbors as well it seemed. There was a smooth click of metal, then the door popped open and granted them access to the entryway.

There was light, but little of it, pouring over the knife-thin edges of his blinds. But enough to promise a sweeping view of the city if one took the effort to raise the shades [or in this case, press the button that automatically did it]. Everything was neat, not a speck of dust to mar a single surface, no stains on the floor [a grand mix of wood and marble spread throughout the place], nothing out of place. And that left Sasuke with a pleased smile upon his lips.

Even if Neji couldn't appreciate it now, he would certainly come to once his injuries gave up control over him.

“The bed's this way.”

Neji's lips curled despite himself at the tone in Sasuke's voice. He stopped himself from issuing a quick response, however, the one that was waiting on his lips. Well, certainly enough that he bothered to fight me, wasn't it. Fueling Sasuke's bitterness and jealousy was not something Neji cared to do, even if he could smell and feel the sin radiating off the other at the entire situation. He could feel how it vexed Sasuke to know that this creature---this once-companion, once brother who he had held in enough esteem to fall for... Neji entertained the thought that he might understand the feeling completely, if he allowed himself to relate to Sasuke on that level. But he refused. After all, Neji very much continued to insist to himself that God was not actually ignoring him.

It was one of the most consciously dark places Neji had been in, though he saw quite perfectly despite the lack of light. He could see why Sasuke wouldn't want it lit--the way the minute amount of light played on every sleek surface was as aesthetically pleasing enough as it was. Neat, clean, and yet it lacked the cold edge of sterility that Neji wanted to associate with it. It was very different from where he stayed with Naruto, that was for certain. Certainly a lot more things here, and not because either Neji or Naruto were particularly modest (though they were, he supposed, in their very markup), but because they both lacked money. Besides, Naruto had been the one to find the place, and his tastes were much more...rough than this.

Neji admitted to himself that he liked it, but he refused to love it. It was just a residence, one that Sasuke obviously took great pride in if Neji was reading his expression correctly. And he supposed such a thing would be easy for one of Sasuke's nature-to have pride in something that was transient, that he owned. Neji wouldn't know. He had never owned anything before coming to earth, and even now that he did, he couldn't seem to assign any type of emotion to the objects as humans did. He appreciated them, but they were all human made. Flawed.

All this was taken in with a cursory look about the place. Neji couldn't spare it more, and his mind would not allow him to dwell on much for long aside from the pain. It was almost amusing, the way envy slipped out of Sasuke's words and movements, how he wanted this as opposed to nothing. To fight the great creature that had made sport of taunting Neji, of drawing anger out of him, and in turn, blood from himself. That someone would want that was almost outside the realm of Neji's thinking, but it startled him to find that it was not, entirely. Bothered him more than it should have, enough to make him want to leave when part of him already did. Yet where would he go?

So he followed Sasuke with slow steps, palm pressed against his shoulder wound as his eyes took in the place around him. And there was indeed a bed, one that looked very much as if it belonged to Sasuke and not at all something Neji would ever sleep in (he imagined hat he could feel the sin coming from it, sliding like something ready to devour), but a bed was a bed and he already felt very much like collapsing.

"You should ask what you want to know...now." Neji said, voice slightly tense in an indication that the pain was starting to get to him again. "I might not be so willing to give you what you want in the morning."

Sasuke took a moment to straighten himself out in the nearest mirror [for there were several scattered about the place he had deemed his room, though mere sleeping quarters was more like it, and for the most part, Sasuke simply used it to entertain. . . the couch was comfortable enough for him on most nights when he deemed it necessary to sleep - which may or may not have had something to do with his penchant for sleeping nude and the early mornings the teens next door were subjected to]. No blood had managed to escape out onto his skin, a fact a part of him lamented sorely and another part of him rejoiced for having crafted an incantation that did its job superbly.

Then, he gave Neji a smirk that simply said Perhaps.

“Since you insist, Neji,” Sasuke said slowly, tasting every word before he left it leave his lips. “Why was Itachi there?”

It was the first of many questions he had in mind, though that was the one that was eating at him the most. Why now? Why Earth? After so many years of not a whisper about the Seraph, why was he suddenly appearing, and in the very city he had taken up as his palce of residence? Sasuke couldn't help but think that in some twisted way, the elder Angel was tormenting him again. Whether it was deliberate or Itachi simple had no idea, both were thoughts that would torture him.

But as he asked and mulled over the possible answers, he was moving about the room. Hands were quick to select new clothes [for later], along with several damp cloths and crisp white bandages [which he delighted in knowing would turn a gorgeous shade of red soon enough].

Permission was not asked. Neji was simply stripped to the waist without any flare, the material gone both the angel's and his own in quick movements of fingers that seemed to know all too well what they were doing [something that worried Sasuke quietly in the back of his mind, memories of what always seemed to be].

And then. . . .then he slowed down, watched as the blood trickled leisurely down over pale skin.

He watched Sasuke silently, noting carefully the expression he used when asking the question, the choice of words. It really must vex him, not knowing. He thought silently, though Neji felt no better for knowing it. He wasn't one to take comfort or pride in the suffering of another, if this could even be called that. He wasn't sure if Sasuke was suffering, though there was certainly something that drove him forward. Driving force always seemed to be rooted in a pain of some form---after all, hadn't Lucifer rebelled because God had shown him too little love? Hadn't the angels fallen because of the pain of not having enough? But he was through working out reasons, didn't want to reconcile that there might be one--a good one--for why Sasuke had left in the first place. He hadn't let himself think of it when it had happened, and though the years had come and brought with them questions, Neji had pushed these particular ones from his mind.

Yet it was interesting that Sasuke thought he knew the whys, when Neji had thought he'd made it clear that he was not God and could not see into the minds of others without aid. He didn't even know why Sasuke was truly doing this, and as his shirt was pulled off and the bandages equally discarded (he forced his mind blank, the shock of pain not crawling across his features as the bandages were pulled from the wound) Neji still simply couldn't fathom it. Sasuke had to know that he didn't have these answers. Perhaps they would be written in That Book in the form of Itachi's thoughts, though Neji highly doubted that it was a real sense of consciousness on the part of the fallen angel. Perhaps simply a drive, a pulling force that was not put into words but still there.

Yet while he felt he knew how to answer that question (a simple I do not know), Neji did not reply immediately. He could feel the hint of knowing shifting through his body, the remnants of the sword that had cut him so deeply. It was as if the thing had sucked some kind of power from him, and having looked into those eyes (the red, red deep eyes that he had almost fallen into) Neji realized he knew more than he had even entertained. All he had seen in those dark depths was a hungry gorge, devouring, pulling, capturing life like a black hole. A place where not even light could escape, and yet Neji had with what seemed to be too much knowledge.

He watched Sasuke seem to watch his blood, and yet it did not register as anything more than inaction. He wondered, briefly, if Sasuke was planning to let him bleed to death here in this room, and then again why the other had brought him here.

"Power." He said simply. "There's something he wants here." His voice was a little edgy, but slow and quiet, as if unsure. And he could feel it, the blood trickling down the side of his chest. It was hot but cooling and far, far too apparent on white. Neji looked away and forced himself not to block the flow with his hand again. That had stung.

Ironic that that would Neji's reply when it had been the only thing Sasuke had been pursuing all these years. Power. Even now, Itachi was seeking to be better and here he was, tending to wounds that seemed far too much like his own.

With a steady hand, Sasuke force the white-eyed angel down onto the bed. Careful not to place any pressure on the injured shoulder, which his eyes were still riveted to. Surely there were other injuries, his mind reasoned [Itachi did not leave you with a single injury alone, unless it was the one that killed], but at the moment this was the one that demanded all of his attention.

He rationalized his actions with the thought that under no such circumstances would he allow Neji to fade from him. Because Neji had answers [he had to have them, his ego growled, or this was all a waste], and those would not be allowed to die with him.

But there were other things he could do to alleviate the pressing feeling that questioning Neji would be a futile act [which begged him to answer why, oh why had he even bothered to bring the injured angel back to his place, where blood would stain his sheets and purity would cloud the air]. A quick flick of his eyes to Neji's face was all the prelude Sasuke gave before dipping his head down and running his tongue along the longest stream of blood. From the last rib straight up to the wound.

At that, Sasuke needed no further proof that this was an injury created by a demon's hand. Always made the blood taste funny, peculiar in the fact that it was somehow sweeter, somehow sinful. Thick and infused with an essence wholly dark. And it was made all the odder by the fact that this was Neji's blood, angelic and something of pure [though even that had a strange taste to it].

Licking at his lips, he flashed a devious smile up at the angel before pressing the warm compress to the shoulder wound.

“Did he say anything to you?”

It made his skin crawl, that was the only way to describe it. Neji wasn't certain how exactly to place the feeling, though it did draw certain images to mind (the most prominent being Itachi bringing his own fingers to his lips and doing the same). Sasuke's tongue was warm and wet and completely out of place on Neji's skin, and licking blood seemed to be an entirely demonic thing to do (Neji found himself wondering if it was necessary for a demon's survival, to lick blood, though he highly doubted it) yet he couldn't really find the feeling distasteful. After all, in comparison to all the other things he had been forced to feel that day, this one was by far the least abrasive.

Yet it was very, very odd, and slightly disturbing--Neji's look said as much. And it reminded him exactly how much Sasuke had changed, because he never, never would have done something like that in Heaven.

It took a moment for his vision to come back to normal, and indeed to register that Sasuke had asked him another question. One that was actually rather perfect. Did he say anything to you.

Neji couldn't have said no, because "no" was not the truth. He could not lie, at least not in the normal sense. Not if it wasn't for the Greater Good, and certainly not to save himself (which gave a rather nice light to the phrase 'could not lie to save his life'), or to mislead. It would be against God, and the mark on his forehead would flare to life and leave him in far more agony than he already was in, that was for sure. When Neji didn't like the answer he had to a question, he usually did not answer it. It rather threw people off.

But he couldn't do that now, and a simple 'yes' would not suffice. So he answered without answering. What Itachi had said to him was not information that he wanted Sasuke knowing. Sasuke already held enough of the keys to all the locks Neji had within him. He didn't need one more.

"He said nothing concerning you."

“That wasn't what I asked,” Sasuke purred, drawing his tongue along the angel's collarbone in the wake of his words. There was something strangely gratifying about putting himself upon one of the Heavenly [though he hardly sought to mark Neji as he might have with some other helpless soul. . .the temptation to do so, however, was slowly killing him from the inside out]. When he glanced upwards, it was with a look that stated quite adamantly that he expected an answer to the question he had posed.

Whether Neji realized it or not, he had given himself away. Or maybe it was Sasuke who remembered far too much of Heaven for Neji's good. Coated with blood, the towel was removed and replaced with another. Only this time, the fallen Cherub set about wiping up the remnants of red that splashed over Neji's skin, wiping the crimson away with careful swipes of fingers and cloth.

Not, however, without one final lick to skin that skimmed the lower edge of the wound. A lick that was ended with a kiss though something offered up the idea that Neji probably had no idea what that even was, at least not in a context such as this, where Sasuke could feel his own blood bubble with desire that knew it would not be fulfilled tonight. . .at least not with the creature before him].

It was a difficult thing, controlling that want though. He was so used to taking as he saw fit, that this sudden concern for Neji's health was beyond his demon's reasoning. Was it not even easier for him to do as he wanted now? Why wait until later when the angel would have the strength to defend himself?

Sasuke groaned softly, frustrated that he was suddenly beyond overruled by a conscious had he forsaken so many times before. “Che. . .”

Hands set out the task of wrapping the shoulder, lips once more forming words that knew no human language. More potent this time, but only because he needed something to distract him from the sea of self-loathing that was currently assaulting him on two very different fronts.

"It's what you wanted to know, though, wasn't it." Neji responded almost sullenly, knowing that Sasuke had no real interest in asking these questions other than to feed the fire within him, or whatever it was that burned so brightly against the creature he was pursuing. And not all of Neji's answers could give him that. After all, the battle between himself and Itachi had been very personal--fought on levels that weren't just fallen and holy, but that gave a face to each of them. To Itachi and Neji. Itachi, who had thrust himself away from God's power, and Neji who was no longer in the light. It was something that Itachi had picked up on, and Neji was still unsure of how many knew of God's departure. He would certainly not be the one to spread the word.

Answering was not an option. Neji ignored the further urge to respond, and simply tried to sort out exactly what Sasuke was trying to accomplish with all this licking. After all, the blood was mostly gone, so what was the point? He watched Sasuke's lips against his skin in some kind of curious fascination, though he eventually grew tired of watching and focused on the feeling--for there had to be some kind of purpose. After all, it was very strange that he could feel now, only after Itachi's sword had pierced his flesh. It was as if his body had been in some kind of odd stasis before; even the winter rain had felt like nothing against him.

It was acute now, this feeling beside the pain. Still hard to place, though prominent and curious. Sasuke's grunt of irritation drew Neji's eyes once more, however, and though his face showed minimal expression, his head cocked to the side in question. Once again it felt as if the pain were drawn from his shoulder at those words, whispers that certainly were not angelic. Such things would never be whispered in Heaven, and Neji wondered if this was sin, allowing Sasuke to perform such a thing. But his forehead was cool and painless, and he was too far gone to care, for the weakness was still there, behind his eyelids.

"I don't know anything else." Neji said tiredly, eyes cast carefully on a face that he knew too well.

A genius.

It's what the humans had labeled him so many years ago. A word he had never heard of in Heaven because it implied there were things, others to be surpassed. It implied arrogance and pride, taken because you were better than someone else. But it was a word he enjoyed. It spoke to him, of him.

There was one other thing, though, that genius implied - intelligence. And Sasuke had plenty of that. Enough to know when topics were being avoided.

But for the moment, Sasuke merely resumed his duties as nurse. One more face cloth, this one dry, was used, pressed to the wound along with words that roamed like directionless snakes over and into the fine cotton surfaces. That was then held in place by gauze and bandages, one after the other until a stable wrap was firmly in place. Sasuke eyed his work with a smugness that was reluctant to admit that such talent came from patching far too many of his own injuries.

Then, he shifted Neji further onto the bed, taking full advantage of a consciousness that was slipping by the moment into further darkness [a thought that brought just the hint of amusement to his eyes, for there was something about Neji that didn't quite sit well with the word pristine]. Sasuke tugged idly at the hem of his T-shirt for a few seconds, before giving into to his own wretched depths of blackness.

Carefully, he climbed over the angel, straddling him considerately and stared down at the shoulder that was now bound in a white that was whiter than either of their own skins. Fingers skimmed along stomach, touched hesitantly at chest and shoulders. Satisfied, though he gave no hint as to what, the fallen Cherub, all heat and power, dipped lower and settled his lips beside Neji's ear.

“What are you hiding from me, Neji?” he whispered. Ended the question with a cruelly [because certainly Neji had no idea at all what he was doing] playful flick of his tongue against the angel's neck, followed by an even crueler kiss that lingered, reluctant, upon the angel's skin.

The pressure of the bandages seemed to hold the pain in, something that Neji was grateful for though it did not cut the dull throb entirely. He surveyed the work with an unpracticed eye--the bandaging was smooth and it looked as if it would hold; no blood peeked through as of yet to speak of, and the fact that Sasuke seemed proud of that work gave Neji more confidence than he was willing to admit.

But it was true that he was fading from consciousness quickly. Holding on because he was still rather unsure of the situation, unsure in his own skin and certainly unsure in this place that sung a bit of the parts of Sasuke he had always known and wanted to be comforted by that. But there was no comfort that he thought, in an intellectual sense, he could derive from this place. He still felt as if he were in the lion's den or the belly of the beast, and though Sasuke had patched and mended him, Neji wondered if, when he finally stopped questioning and got exactly what he wanted, he would still see it fit to keep Neji alive.

Yet it seemed a lot of wasted work for some simple questions that would presumably come easier from a dying man than one that was on the mend. Neji was not blind to pattern or common sense.

When Sasuke moved him, Neji realized how entirely boneless he felt. And suddenly the ceiling was in his view, dark and high and clean. He could not have escaped from whatever Sasuke may have planned for him at this point. Itachi's sword had all but made sure of that, and Neji had no idea how long it would take this human body to heal. He half-wondered if it were a worthwhile investment at all, and if it would just be easier to get a new one. But he'd had this one since the beginning of time, and he didn't quite feel like forsaking it just because of one petty stab wound.

The spread was cool on his bruised back, soothing almost, but something that served to keep him conscious, still awake as Sasuke hovered over him. Though his work seemed finished, fingers did not disengage from the mapping they seemed to have set upon. Neji could feel his flesh skitter beneath Sasuke's touch, feel it retract and blossom into a strange sensation that covered him in fleshy bumps that caused the tiniest of hairs to lift on his skin. When Sasuke slipped out of his view and dipped close (too close, something whispered in Neji's mind), he turned his head away, but it was not far enough to escape the sensation that he recognized by now.

There was no fresh blood on his neck. Sasuke was licking him for no purpose, and he could feel the soft press of lips as well. Frustrating, because he did not know the purpose. And again the bumps, and his face felt hot.

"Many things." He finally replied with truth. "Why are you still touching me."

“Because I enjoy it,” Sasuke stated bluntly. That was truth too, and like Neji's words had been to him, not something the angel probably cared to hear.

He did enjoy it though. Thoroughly. It sparked up a little of the old in him while still entertaining the new. Good and evil, as it would have been termed. Sasuke wondered if it was possible to be both, and then recalled that that was precisely what humanity was - a mix of the two worlds. How unfair it seemed to him then that such a creation, God's greatest, should have the pleasure of being both when he and Neji would damned by their own respective titles.

Or maybe. . .One eyebrow rose as that thought halted center stage in his mind. Tongue ran absently over his lips, as if recalling the odd taste of Neji's blood. As though he could taste his own.

Lulled by that idea, Sasuke lowered himself to Neji's side. Fingers still traced their idle patterns over skin that had yet to understand the exquisiteness of their work, and lips set kisses down wherever they happened to land, not quite a steady stream of action but one that stumbled over another.

There was a very real part of him that loudly lamented the fact that he was not pursuing the path he should be - taking each and every part of Neji that he could possibly want. But despite its damning cries, Sasuke couldn't bring himself to do that. Partly because it was dishonorable. There was nothing worth gloating over in taking an angel that could barely even stand on hits own.

But there was something else, something far more troubling, and that Sasuke refused to acknowledge. He would settle on the idea that if this was to be a possibility, then he would claim as much glory as possible from it. And yet. . .

“Why are you hiding so much from me. . . .?” His tone was gentle, much like the way his fingertips glided over Neji's skin. Nothing harsh, all his frustration forgotten in a moment of remembrance. Because he did. Could recall all too well what it had once been like to be beloved of God, to have that innocence that even Neji still sported.

And here he was, trying to strip it all away. Sasuke held his lips to the edge of Neji's shoulder, letting their warmth sink into skin that was as cold as it looked.

Why? Was Neji's next question, but he wasn't sure that he would even understand the answer to that question, so he didn't ask. Eventually, he would find the answer, if not from Sasuke then from some other source. The world couldn't hide its secrets for long, just like Neji was certain Heaven and Hell couldn't. He was learning every day, and half the things that he learned were not to his liking. It was easy to see where the world had taken a wrong turn, but even more apparent that there was no way for it to right itself. It made him wonder what he was doing here, and it was at times like that that Neji was more than aware he hadn't come here to help humanity at all, but to escape an empty Heaven.

Any suggestion of stop or, you've done enough that had lingered in Neji's question didn't seem to offset Sasuke, who continued to touch as he liked. It wasn't as much bothersome as it was uncomfortable; he wasn't used to being touched in any manner, and having Sasuke, who he had spent a good amount of time with in Heaven touch him now made it more than apparent that such touching was not virtuous. Yet Neji doubted that any of Sasuke's intents were, and if he was going to be here he would have to be ready for that.

Sasuke's question though---to say that it didn't catch him off guard would have been a lie. White eyes that had been staring emptily at the ceiling now directed toward Sasuke in a questioning gaze, one that normally would not have appeared on his features but which he was too tired to hide now. It was an odd question to ask, because Neji felt the answer should be obvious. And yet there were so many of them, he didn't know which one to pick, and running them all through his mind made him ache somewhere internally, an odd contrast to the stimulation on his skin and at the site of his wound.

Because you are Fallen and I am not. was so umbrella that it didn't seem worth mentioning. And though it covered a certain manner of reasons, it did not touch on all of them. Because I don't trust you, hit closer, but had the seeds of false truth buried within. Trust was built into him, buried within his cells from creation just like love. They were two things that as much as he could use with caution, would never fade completely. And perhaps that was what bothered him the most. Because part of him trusted and should not.

Neji sighed and moved away from Sasuke, onto his uninjured side to face toward the wall. His shadow was dark and muddled there, and he tried to concentrate on the outline and make it more solid.

"Because you're not the same as you once were." He answered eventually, voice muffled by his arm so it sounded less than pained.

That was all he needed. Or to put another way, it was the last thing in a very long line of things that had occurred today. It was enough to sour any mood that had been building within him.

So, there was no answer. Instead, Sasuke retreated far into himself as Neji moved away and those words hit in much the same manner Itachi's would have. It was one thing to have an angel tell you that, but another thing entirely to have the angel who was once the closest to friend he had had in Heaven say the same.

Fingers gave up their pursuit of skin, and seconds later Sasuke was rolling effortlessly off the bed. No sound save for the smooth slipping of silk and cotton.

If Neji were in pain, then so was he. Bad enough that every ounce of demon that had been sunk into his flesh was telling him to take, take, take while the getting was good, but now he was feeling it acutely the choice he had made. And for a moment, Sasuke regretted his decision to help the angel. Because it did bring pain. Pain and memories.

He wasn't the same. He knew that much, but hearing it come from Neji reminded him of just how much he had sold in the name of revenge. Of how much he had lost for all that he had gained. His body, however, still sung of the thrill that came from knowing a little more of Neji's body. It echoed, weaved its hellish [because surely this was punishment for having ever wanted an angel as high ranking as Neji] song through his head. Wanting more even though there was simply no way he was going to return to that bed tonight.

Instead, there was silence. Nothingness as he padded from the room and took up sanctuary on the leather couch in the living area.