Archive of Our Own

It’s a Wednesday morning when Aki asks the Angel Devil to move into the empty bedroom in his apartment. 

He tells himself it’s for a lot of different reasons. Some of them are true, but some of them are outright lies. Power fell asleep in Denji’s room four weeks ago and never really went back into hers. It’d be a waste of money if he didn’t use all of the bedrooms in his not-exactly-inexpensive apartment. He’s secretly always wanted a third Devil roommate. Empty rooms have bothered Aki ever since he figured out what it felt like when they were full. 

(Truth, lie, lie, truth.)

Aki hadn’t meant to ask Angel now, though. They have an entire shift they have to work, it’s at least semi-inappropriate of him to mention it on the clock, and it will be horribly awkward if Angel says no, which he will. 

Angel doesn’t react immediately. Slowly, he takes the ice cream cone out of Aki’s outstretched hand, avoiding any possibility that their hands might brush. He’s been more careful about it ever since the Bomb Devil, and Aki wishes he hadn’t noticed. 

The look on Angel’s face is as bored and disinterested as ever, and Aki twitches with the urge to do something ridiculous, like grab him or kiss him or get on his knees and pray. He’s not even religious. Aki manages to fumble a cigarette out of his pocket and between his teeth with one hand, balancing his own ice cream cone in the other. 

“I’m not moving in with you, Hayakawa.”

The ice cream today is strawberry, a lighter color than Angel’s hair. Aki wonders if they would taste the same. He swallows. His cone is plain vanilla, but he ignores it in favor of a long, steadying drag of his cigarette. 

“You sucked two months of my lifespan away, aren’t we at the point where you can call me Aki?”

Angel’s eyes flick up to Aki’s face, the only sign that what Aki said upset him. Angel shrugs. “Fine. I’m not moving in with you, Aki.”

The Angel Devil takes a half step back, turning around to start their patrol. Aki blows out smoke, holding the ice cream cone in his hand so tightly it’s a miracle it hasn’t broken. This is important. He can’t explain why.

Here’s the thing: Hayakawa Aki has two years left to live. Less than, in fact.

 Every morning he wakes up and can feel time crossing out the day on the calendar pinned up inside his skull. He wakes up, makes breakfast, gets dressed, and goes to work. He cleans up after Denji and Power and makes them their dinner and then goes to bed alone. 

It didn’t bother him before. Every day he spent at work was one step closer to killing the Gun Devil, and if it ended up that the Gun Devil killed him, then those years he had left to live didn’t matter anyway. 

Now, he folds Denji’s laundry and feeds Power’s cat. He spends dinner convincing Denji to chew with his mouth closed and bribing Power to try her vegetables, even just one bite. He writes his family name on their paperwork and fixes their ties before work. 

Here’s the other thing: Hayakawa Aki is at least a little in love with the Angel Devil. 

“Why not?”

The sight of Angel's back– those big, sweeping, white wings– walking away from him makes his throat close up. It feels like his moment is passing. This is urgent, somehow. Aki can’t tell if it’s the Future Devil living in his eye or his own head telling him what he wants to hear but he knows that if he doesn’t convince Angel of this now, then he never will. 

It feels like Himeno laying next to him in bed, arms around his neck, head on his shoulder. It feels like snow melting between his fingers and cold hands. It feels like a white shirt slipping out of his grasp. 

Angel turns back, head tilted. “You already have two roommates.”

“They share.”

Angel doesn’t respond. He takes a bite of his soft serve, giving Aki a look that seems to ask ‘and?’

“It’s kind of annoying having to check you out every morning like a library book,” Aki says, wracking his head for reasons that make him sound even a little bit normal. He tries to school his expression, tries to make it seem like it doesn’t really matter to him either way. “It’d be easier.”

It’s a flimsy excuse. Aki knows it and he’s sure that Angel knows it, too, but he can’t think of anything else to say. 

“Wouldn’t Chainsaw and the Blood Fiend mind?”

Probably. Definitely. But they aren’t paying rent. “They aren’t paying rent.”

“I wouldn’t either,” Angel says. 

Aki shakes his head a bit. His ice cream is melting and his cigarette is going out between his fingers. “You wouldn’t have to.”

Angel’s expression shifts, just slightly. He’s curious now. “I could kill you. A few times bumping into you and the kitchen and that’d be it. I don’t think your apartment is very big, Aki”

It’s not a threat. It’s just the truth. Aki already wants to touch him, even feeling the days literally slipping out of his fingers didn’t change that. He suspects nothing will. 

“I can be careful,” Aki says. 

He hopes he sounds like he means it. He does mean it, really, but something about the way Angel is looking at him makes speaking difficult. Words don’t feel like enough. 

There’s a beat, a horribly long pause where Aki feels like he’s being examined under a microscope, being looked through by six thousand eyes he can’t see, and then the Angel Devil points one finger and says, “Your ice cream is melting.”

Angel’s cone is gone, and Aki’s lost his appetite. “Do you want it?”

“Sure,” Angel says, shrugging, and takes two, deliberate steps forward into Aki’s space. He grabs the cone from the bottom, close enough to touch, and Aki almost forgets to let go. “Where’s your lighter?”

“What.” Aki feels like he’s missed a step on the stairs, or like Denji tackled him and knocked the air out of his lungs. Weren’t they talking about Angel moving in with him? Why is Angel standing so close? How can Aki make sure he never moves? The air tastes like ice cream, smoke, and something that reminds Aki of the Bomb Devil and wind and red hair buffeting against his face.

Angel reaches up and takes the cigarette from between Aki’s fingers. He gently sets it against Aki’s bottom lip, looking at him expectantly. 

“Oh,” Aki mumbles, and Angel takes the opportunity to stick the cigarette between his lips. “Uh.”

With the hand not holding Aki’s ice cream, Angel finds the inside pocket of Aki’s suit jacket and pulls out the lighter. Aki leans down on autopilot as Angel flicks on the flame.

“Thanks,” Aki says dumbly, for lack of anything else. 

Angel gives him a barely-there smile, dropping the lighter into Aki’s palm. “You’re welcome.”

The Angel Devil looks away and, slowly, takes a lick of Aki’s more-than-half-melted ice cream. He takes two steps back– suddenly the moment is broken.

They’re on a busy street corner in the middle of Tokyo during the morning rush, with people talking and walking on all sides. A woman holding a toddler on her hip gives Aki a dirty look, eyes trained pointedly on his cigarette. He’s at work. 

“You can help me move in after our shift,” Angel says smugly, like he’s giving Aki something precious. Maybe he is. “And fill out the paperwork. Unless you’ve changed your mind.”

“Never,” Aki breathes, and he’s sure the tone of his voice gives him away. Like everything else about this hasn’t already said too much. He thought he was in love with Makima but now he knows better. That wasn’t anything at all. 

Angel’s eyes widen ever so slightly, so much so that Aki isn’t sure he didn’t imagine it, and nods. “Great,” he says and starts walking up the street. 

Suddenly, Aki realizes that maybe the Angel Devil might be a little in love with him, too.

____

Filling out the form in Makima’s office takes longer than it does for Angel to move into his apartment. 

“That’s all you brought?”

There’s one box on the ground, filled with some clothes and a couple of books. There’s a months-old magazine on top advertising some celebrity breakup that Aki thinks Himeno had told him about. He can’t imagine Angel reading it. In some twisted sort of cliche, next to the box is a fake potted plant, just the right size to fit on a desk. 

“I’m a Devil, Aki. I didn’t even get a room to myself until I had racked up six months of good behavior.”

“Hm,” Aki says, pursing his lips. 

They’re standing in the middle of what used to be Power’s bedroom. It’s smaller than the one Aki has. The blinds on the window have seen better days and the furniture isn’t exactly the nicest, but Angel doesn’t seem to mind. Aki made sure to wash Power’s old bedding twice before putting it back.

Aki thinks that Angel probably won’t need his help unpacking, considering there’s barely anything to unpack, so instead he says, “Denji and Power will be back pretty soon.”

As if on cue, there’s the violent sound of someone kicking the front door in, falling over, and someone else kicking it shut just as hard. Aki can feel the headache start immediately.

“Aki!” Denji yells, “Aki Aki Aki!! Hey, man, where are you?”

Aki can hear Power’s shoes in the hallway, because of course she can’t remember to take them off. “Akiiiiiii,” she singsongs at the top of her lungs. “Denji and I require your plastic money card posthaste!”

“It’s called a credit card, Power, even I can remember that–” Denji cuts himself off with a yelp, presumably being tackled by Power, who yells victoriously.

“Sounds like they’re here,” Angel comments absently. 

Denji appears in the doorway, Power hanging off his shoulders, while Nyako yowls at his feet. 

“What are you heathens doing in my room?” Power asks, shoving a finger up her nose. Denji doesn’t even try to stop her, just whips his head to the side to give her a scandalized look. 

“I thought we decided we were sharing!” he says, voice pitching up into a whine. 

Power lifts her chin. “I may have decided to grace you with my presence, but that doesn’t change the fact that this is my territory.”

“It does, actually,” Aki interrupts, glaring at Power when she sticks out her tongue. “Why do you need my credit card?”

Denji and Power glance at each other, heads tilted, and shrug. “Don’t remember,” they say.

Well, that’s something.

Denji startles suddenly, knocking Power off balance. He sticks a finger out toward Angel. “What’s he doing here?”

Aki wishes, entirely in vain, for Angel to answer the question. Of course, he doesn’t. He just looks up at Aki through his fringe, clearly waiting for him to say something. Aki would rather count the freckles on Angel’s nose, but he supposes it can’t be helped. 

Aki takes a deep breath. “He lives here. In this– this is his room now.”

“You can’t just give someone Power’s bedroom like that!” Denji crosses his arms, having switched sides immediately. “That’s not fair.”

“I agree!” Power says, as though anyone thought she was going to do anything else. 

“You two will complain about anything,” Aki points out.

“We shall form a– a–” Power falters, face blank until Denji whispers something into her ear. She perks back up. “We shall form a union!”

“You don’t know what that is.”

“Uh, yeah, we do. We saw it on TV.”

Aki decides he’s not going to dignify that with a response. Angel still hasn’t said anything, and Aki wonders if maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all. 

“Did Miss Makima kick you out or something?” Denji asks, giving Angel a suspicious look. “Kill somebody you weren’t supposed to?”

Angel’s wings twitch like he’s trying to shake something off of them. He looks as disinterested as ever. “Aki invited me.”

“Oh,” Denji wrinkles his nose. “Boring. I thought you did something cool.”

“Like kill someone?” Aki says, incredulous. 

“Yeah. Exactly.”

Power leans down to scoop up Nyako, meowing right back at him when he meows at her. The ways she holds him always make Aki nervous, but the cat doesn’t seem to mind particularly as long as it’s Power doing the holding. One hand under each of Nyako’s front legs, she holds him out toward Angel. 

“Nyako is not for touching,” she says, “and if you do, I will take great pleasure in removing your head from your neck.”

“I can manage that.” Angel is being surprisingly calm about all of this, Aki thinks. It makes sense that Angel would be used to some strange behavior, considering he was living with Public Safety for an indeterminate period of time. Somehow, there are weirder Devils out there than Denji and Power.

“You’re not allowed in our room,” Denji sneers. “Gotta stay in your own.”

Why would he go into your room? Aki wants to ask, but Angel doesn’t look bothered. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Denji and Power turn to look at each other, eyes widening and brows rising in some sort of silent conversation. Denji tilts his head, Power looks back at Angel, and then at Aki, and then she nods. Denji nods back. 

“Fine,” they say in unison. 

“He can stay,” Denji says, sounding particularly inconvenienced. 

“If he has to,” Power finishes.

Aki wasn’t asking them for permission, not even a little bit, but if he’s getting it he might as well take it. “Thanks?” 

Angel doesn’t hesitate. “Thanks.”

Denji and Power march out of the room together, looking very self-important and pleased with themselves. Aki wonders if maybe he’s bit off more than he can chew.

____

Angel has a room to himself. Angel has a room to himself and Aki’s room is down the hall. It feels too good to be true. It is too good to be true. 

He shouldn’t have said yes. He still doesn’t know why he did. He’d planned on saying no, really, but Aki had asked him so nicely, like having Angel in his apartment would solve all of his problems and then some. 

Angel had told Aki, under cover from the rain, that they would never get along. They would never be more than begrudging coworkers. Aki was bad news, nothing Angel wanted to get involved in. He’d been lying through his teeth. 

Denji and Power are sort of nightmares to live with, always yelling about something in the room next door or running circles around each other in the living room, but they’re better than the other Devils Angel had been stuck with at Public Safety. And it’s worth it. Aki’s here. 

It’s a terrible idea, of course. Aki doesn’t wear a full suit around the house. It’s the sort of thing Angel would appreciate more if it didn’t mean he has to make sure he’s a foot away from Aki whenever he can manage it. 

“It’s like you aren’t even paying attention,” Angel says, managing to sound casual, like it doesn’t bother him particularly.

It kills him a little bit. He knows why Aki asked him to move in. He’s not blind, and he’s not sure Aki is even trying to hide it. 

Aki glances down, and Angel can’t help but look up at him. They’re in the kitchen. Aki’s backed him into a corner, entirely by accident. His wings itch to move, uncomfortably tucked up against the wall. 

Aki had just been trying to get to the sink. He’d pushed past Angel the way he would’ve pushed past Denji. His sleeves are rolled up to the elbows, and Angel has a brief, inane fantasy in which he reaches his hand out to Aki’s wrist and keeps it there. 

 He wouldn’t have to move far. That’s what’s so wrong with all of this. Angel smells cigarettes and shampoo, and it’s driving him insane. He can see where the Fox Devil has torn pieces off of Aki’s arms. Angel wants to find a way to put him back together. Cover the scarred skin with his own, feel Aki’s heart beating under his skin.

“Oh,” Aki says, expression falling, just a bit. “Sorry, Angel.”

It doesn’t matter how many times he says it, Angel is never ready to hear his name in Aki’s mouth. Aki says it like it’s real. It’s not just his name, it’s what he is. 

Aki takes a step back. Angel doesn’t want him to, but it’s what he asked for. 

It’s different in the apartment. At work, it’s easy to crowd into Aki’s space– reach into his jacket, steal his lighter– and look up at him in a way that makes Aki pause. All Angel has to watch are his hands. 

In the apartment, it’s everything. Elbows, knees, shoulders, ankles. He’s living in some twisted art museum, the statue leaning down to him, holding out a hand, asking him to take it, but Angel knows he shouldn’t touch, he can’t . There are signs everywhere and alarms in his head and the deep, sinking certainty that reaching his own hand out would shatter the entire statue into pieces. The worst part is that he can’t seem to stop doing it. He wouldn’t call it flirting, exactly, but whatever it is he can’t figure out how to stop.

The air feels cold without Aki standing there. 

“We have to go out earlier tomorrow,” Aki says, “Makima called.”

Angel frowns. “How much earlier?”

“Couple hours.”

Angel is hardly paying attention, eyes trained on the dark blue of Aki’s t-shirt. He hums noncommittally.

The smell of smoke is worse than normal. Aki must’ve gone outside. The look on his face must be more miserable than usual because Aki rolls his eyes, “It won’t be that bad. I’ll buy you two scoops instead of one.”

Angel wants to throw up his heart. “I’ll hold you to that.”

Aki nods and then turns back to the sink. Angel doesn’t remember why he went into the kitchen. Maybe he was supposed to get a snack, but he’s not so sure he’s hungry anymore. 

_____

Angel isn’t actually a bad roommate, Aki thinks. He’d been a bit worried about it, especially considering the other two. But all around, the Angel Devil is a perfectly average roommate. He tends to use all of the hot water if he gets into the bathroom first, and Aki’s noticed that the feathers shed, but he contains all of his mess in his room and doesn’t make a ton of noise at night. 

He’s also taken to petting the cat. 

“Didn’t Power say she’d chop your head off if  you did that?” Aki asks, leaning on the kitchen counter. Angel has his sleeves pulled all the way past his wrists, carefully holding Nyako up so the cat’s head is on his shoulder. It’s purring. 

“There’s too much fur, it’s not like I’m going to kill it,” Angel says, and Nyako meows as if in agreement. He glances back at Aki, considering. There’s a weird look on his face. “Plus, if she finds out, you’ll protect me, won’t you?”

Aki wants to address that, but instead when he opens his mouth what comes out is, “Hair doesn’t count?”

Angel tilts his head. “It’s dead, isn’t it? You’d know better than me, you went to school. No. It doesn’t count.”

“I just didn’t think about it.”

It makes sense, though. And back with everything with the Bomb Devil, Angel’s hair had been blowing in his face for longer than their hands ever touched. He didn’t lose any more time. 

Slowly, Aki reaches his hand out. Angel’s got a lot of hair, a pretty red color. It always looked soft. When he touches it, nothing happens. There are no days seeping out through his fingers or heartbeat slowing in his chest. The chunk between his finger and his thumb is soft, if a bit tangled. It’s nice. Aki could do this forever

He doesn’t want to take his hand back. This is something he’s allowed to do, even if Angel is looking at him like he’s not sure it’s a good idea. 

Angel takes a deep breath. “Aki.”

Aki drops his hand. He doesn’t know how long it’s been, how long he’s been standing there with his hand in Angel’s hair. He clears his throat. “Just wanted to make sure.”

“Right.” The Angel Devil looks unimpressed, like he doesn’t quite believe Aki. 

Nyako perks up and wiggles until Angel bends to put the cat on the ground. Aki’s face feels like it’s red. He’s blushing, right? He’s totally blushing like the rest of this isn’t awkward enough.

“Anyway,” Angel says, blessedly changing the subject. “I was going to make you fix the TV for me. Chainsaw landed on the remote.”

“Of course he did,” Aki sighs, stepping around the counter to find the remote. Angel steps out of the way, as always, but he’s slower about it, like maybe he doesn’t want to, or isn’t paying attention. “What channel do you want it on?”

Angel shrugs, but he’s behind again. Like he’s thinking of something else. Is Angel’s face red, or is Aki losing his mind? He’s losing his mind. There’s no way. 

The lights over the table are brighter, and under them it's undeniable. Angel’s face is flushed, just barely. It’s subtle and barely there, but Aki doesn’t want to stop looking. 

“Aki,” Angel says, sounding mildly exasperated. “The TV.”

Aki whips his head back to the television. “Right. Sorry.”

Out of the corner of his eye, it looks like Angel might be smiling.

_____

The Worm Devil doesn’t take very long to deal with. Angel hardly even has to get involved. It’s big, sure, but it's similar enough to its namesake that there’s not much for him to do except watch Aki slice it into neat pieces. 

“You almost done?” Angel asks, idly kicking a chunk of worm with his shoe. The blood dribbles out of the meat, sluggish. It looks edible. Angel stoops down to pick it up.

“It’d go faster if you helped– oh, god, don’t tell me you’re eating that.” Aki’s nose is wrinkled up in disgust, but he doesn’t look as bothered by it as he did a month ago. 

Angel chews thoughtfully. It’s not very good, actually, so he lets the rest of the piece of Worm Devil fall back onto the pavement. “I had to do something, you were taking forever. I was promised ice cream. You haven’t paid up.”

“I said we’d go after, you’re just impatient,” Aki says, blowing a piece of hair away from his eyes. It flops back into place immediately. Angel’s fingers twitch with the urge to fix it for him. 

There’s blood on his hand, probably from the Worm Devil. It’s bright red, leaning almost into an unnatural pink. He doesn’t have a tissue, and there’s no way he’s walking all the way over to Aki to borrow his.

Angel thinks about it for another second, and then shrugs, licking a slow stripe up the side of his palm. The blood tastes a bit better than the Worm itself, but it’s still not fantastic. 

When he looks back, Aki is watching him with a strange look on his face. It’s not disgust but it’s something and Angel can’t really tell what. Some of the blood dribbles from the corner of his mouth, and he wipes it away with a finger. Aki keeps watching him. 

Angel swallows, and Aki’s throat bobs in time. 

_____

Dinner later that night is kind of a disaster. Aki and Angel had come back to the apartment first, and then Aki had looked at the fridge and realized that it was actually pretty empty. 

“I’m not letting you drag me to the grocery store,” Angel had said, and then Aki had frowned, and Angel had groaned and changed his mind. 

But he was a useless shopping companion, somehow more so than Denji or Power, and so after ten frustrating minutes filled with Angel’s complaining, Aki gave up. They’re having takeout.

“You don’t get any if you bite me,” Aki says to Power, who’s crouched low under Aki’s elbow, licking her lips and wiggling her fingers. 

“How dare you accuse me of such behavior!” Power leans back on her heels and crosses her arms, apparently offended. 

“Did you get it from the good place?” Denji asks, sounding not unlike an excited dog. 

“Yes.”

Across the room, Angel’s eyebrow lifts slightly. He’s bent at the waist, carefully petting the cat while Power isn’t paying attention. “ That was the good place?”

“You really do hate everything, don’t you?”

“Not everything,” Angel says, giving Aki a wry look. There’s a moment where Aki thinks, nonsensically, that Angel means him, but then he realizes that Angel almost certainly means Nyako. Denji seems to notice Angel petting the cat, and Aki’s more than a little relieved when he doesn’t say anything. The last thing he needs is Power chasing Angel around the table. 

Power’s hand snakes up toward the bag of takeout and Aki swats it away. “Go sit at the table and then you can have some.”

She sticks her tongue out, but stands up straight and shuffles off in the direction of the table nonetheless. She takes the spot next to Denji, somehow managing to knee him in the face as she flops onto the floor. 

“You fuckin’ hit me!” Denji yells, reaching over to grab her in a headlock.

Power thrashes around on the floor, “Did not! Topknot! Denji’s being mean to me–”

Denji makes an offended noise and jostles her head some more, but he’s grinning and she’s trying not to laugh, so Aki doesn’t feel particularly like stepping in. 

“You’re always makin’ Aki fix it, Powy. Don’t you wanna fight me yourself?”

Power erupts into more yelling, and Aki remembers the first week she had moved in. Denji on his own had been simple enough once Aki got used to him, but Power seemed to egg him on in a way that meant Aki was constantly listening to the two of them bicker. He’s forgotten what silence sounded like, but he thinks maybe it sounded lonely. 

Suddenly, Angel is at his side. He nudges the bag of food out of the way to lean his arm on the counter, chin in his hand. “So, you gonna feed them or what?”

“Oh,” Aki says, remembering what he was doing in the first place. Angel’s still in his work uniform, but the collar’s undone, and the tie is loose around his neck, baring his throat. Aki feels warm. One more button and he’d be able to see Angel’s collarbone.

Angel looks at him out of the corner of his eye. There’s a funny look on his face, and Aki gets the distinct feeling that he’s being laughed at. “Don’t do something stupid, Aki. Let’s go eat dinner.”

_____

Aki started wearing gloves. Angel doesn’t think he was supposed to notice, but he did. It made sense at work. Aki could wave it off as trying to avoid getting messy whenever Angel asked, but he stopped taking them off. Angel wonders if he’s supposed to wear them, too. It would make more sense. 

“Hey, Angel,” Aki says, “look at me.”

What, Angel thinks, but he does it anyway, because he’s finding out that he’ll do almost anything if Aki is the one asking him. 

Aki reaches out and brushes a gloved finger on Angel’s cheek. It doesn’t feel quite right, somehow he knows it would be better if it were skin on skin. There’s no warmth through the glove, but Aki is gentle and Angel almost wants to close his eyes. He doesn’t think anybody’s ever done that before. It feels like his face is on fire. 

“What was that for?” He asks, wary. Aki looks surprised. Maybe he didn’t think he would actually go through with it.

 Even wearing gloves, touching Angel’s face is stupid, it’s a suicide wish. Getting that close to him is a bad idea, but of course, Aki can’t stop doing it. If Angel were crueler, he could’ve grabbed Aki’s wrist, right at the sliver gap between his shirt sleeve and the glove, and that would’ve been that. The idea makes him feel sick. 

“You had something on your face.” His tone is completely flat, he doesn’t hesitate, but Angel knows he’s lying. He’s lying about the gloves being for work and he’s lying about why he asked Angel to move in with him, and Angel wants to put a hand on either side of his face and kiss his stupid lying mouth. 

“Mmhm.”

Aki’s mouth twitches. “You did.”

“Right,” Angel says, and then Aki does it again, touching Angel’s other cheek, a little longer this time. Angel raises his eyebrows.

This is awful, he doesn’t want it to stop. They’re playing a terrible, dangerous game, only there’s nothing either of them can do to win. They’re cheating under the table, toeing the line, passing cards back and forth as if they’ll find some magic trump buried in the deck. Angel wishes he’d never joined the game in the first place, and he thinks he’ll die if he leaves the table without trying for a win.

“That time, too,” Aki says. “Come on, we’re supposed to be working.”

Angel watches him walk away, face burning

_____

Aki shuffles into the kitchen sometime close to midnight. He didn’t actually look at his clock. Honestly, he’s barely opened his eyes. He’s going to grab a snack and then get right back in bed. 

There’s light coming from the fridge. It doesn’t take Aki very long to realize that Angel is the one standing in front of it. 

Backlit by the dim, yellowish light, he’s sort of intimidating. The outline of his wings is lit up almost gold around the edges and the light sets his hair on fire,  bright red and fanned out on his shoulders. His halo casts funny shadows on his face– too-sharp cheekbones and the harsh upward tilt of his nose. Aki understands, maybe, why angels are supposed to be holy.

Aki must have a really stupid look on his face, because Angel says, in a voice that sounds like it’s pitched down on purpose, “Be not afraid.”

He might be smiling– but it could be the light. Angel never smiles. 

“What?” Aki mumbles, still feeling like he’s half asleep, and then Angel is reaching around the fridge door and chucking an apple at his head. Somehow he manages to catch it.

The light on the very edge of Angel’s cheek warms it, turning his skin from nearly deathly pale to something that looks closer to honey. Aki wonders if it would taste that way, too. 

“Did you just make a joke?” Aki asks, slowly catching up. 

Angel tilts his head. “Does making fun of you count?”

“Yes.”

Angel’s standing in front of him suddenly. Carefully, deliberately, he grabs Aki’s sleeved forearm, turned up and holding the apple. He twists Aki’s arm around gently and guides the apple to his mouth and takes a bite. He doesn’t break eye contact, and Aki feels like Angel’s looking right through him, past his face and into his head, somehow. It feels like Angel’s taking a bite out of his heart. Aki wants him to do it again.

“Then yes. I made a joke.”

Angel drops Aki’s arm and steps past him. Aki feels like he’s drunk. It’s too late for this. “I– What.”

“Go back to bed.”

And then he’s gone, disappearing into his bedroom like he was never even there. Aki stares at the space he was in, dumbfounded. The fridge door is still hanging open, and without Angel and his wings to block the light, the entire kitchen is lit up an artificial yellow. 

He takes a bite out of the apple, the same spot where Angel had, and maybe he’s losing his mind, but he swears he can taste the difference. Like Angel’s lips had left something behind. Like he can taste the indirect kiss.

Aki doesn’t go back to sleep for a long time.

_____

Angel’s on the coast. It’s overcast but not actually very cold, and the waves are calm even though they’re all Angel can hear. Aki is there, and so is someone else, but Angel can’t tell who the other person is. He squints his eyes and tries to look closer, but he can’t make it out– they’re just a blur, like they were moving when the camera went off. 

Aki is talking. Angel can't hear the words coming out, but he can see Aki’s mouth moving. He’s frantic, or maybe just nervous, leaning halfway forward and looking strained around the eyes. Whatever he’s saying, Angel doesn’t like it. It’s bad, it’s wrong, and he wants to cover Aki’s mouth to make him stop, or hit him over the head to keep him from saying it, but he can’t . 

“Aki, stop it,” Angel says, but nothing comes out. He can’t hear his own voice, just the waves, gently shushing him. It’s fine, there’s nothing you can do. He tries again anyway. “Stop it.”

Somehow, Angel knows this is his fault. He can’t remember how they got here, or why, or what he said to make it happen, but this is his doing. They’re on this beach because of him. It was his idea. It was his stupid idea, and now Aki is going to die, or give himself up, or do something else reckless because that’s just who he is, and Angel won’t ever be able to stop it.

Aki stops talking, and then Angel notices he’s crying. He wants to reach up and make it stop, wipe Aki’s face with his sleeves, and make him take them home, but it feels impossible. There’s something he’s missing, and it’s not just the blur standing across from them. It’s something else, an important detail, something he’s supposed to know and it’s on the tip of his tongue, and maybe if he figures it out it’ll make everything make sense, the last piece of the puzzle and it’s right there–

Angel opens his eyes to the ceiling. Dreaming. Right. That makes sense. 

He rolls over and stares at his mostly empty bedroom. He’s never been to the beach. That dream isn’t real, but his heart is still rabbiting in his chest. The panic dies out in his throat, slowly but surely. Not real. Aki is in his room down the hall, or maybe out smoking. Probably out smoking. Angel had gone to bed early.

Something about the nightmare exhausted him. He just wants to go back to sleep, but he doesn’t think he can do it here. Angel tugs a blanket off of his bed. The living room might be better, and if it isn’t, at least there’s the TV. 

Aki is on the balcony. Angel doesn’t want to go out and bother him, but seeing him stand there with his cigarettes is nice. The dream was a dream. Aki is right there, perfectly fine aside from his crippling nicotine addiction. Everything’s fine. Angel mutes the television and crosses his arms to rest his chin. 

This is better. Everything is fine. Aki is alright.

______

Angel falls asleep in the living room.

Aki isn’t really sure when. He’s been chain-smoking on the balcony for an embarrassing amount of time. All he knows is that when he comes inside to go to bed, Angel is wrapped up in a blanket and asleep, arms crossed on the table. The TV is still on. 

He thinks about it for less time than he should. He’s in a blanket. Aki’s got long sleeves on. It’ll be fine. He’ll just casually put Angel in his room. It’s for the best. This way Denji and Power won’t wake him up when they stumble in to play video games at eight in the morning.

Bad idea, bad idea, bad idea, his brain repeats, but he ignores it. Angel doesn’t weigh very much, it’ll only take a second. 

Picking up Angel is easy. Opening Angel’s bedroom door with his elbow is a little harder, but he manages. Aki doesn’t think he’s been in Angel’s room since he first moved in. There are clothes on the floor and not much else. It’s kind of empty. Angel doesn’t spend much time here, Aki supposes, but it still feels strange. 

The books he’d brought are stacked up on a side table and next to them is the cheap fake plant. It had seemed funny, at first. A dumb cliche. Now it just seems sad. Like maybe Angel didn’t have anything else to bring. The plant looks sort of wilted, somehow, as though the plastic can tell that there’s something wrong.

Power hadn’t brought much, either. Denji didn’t have anything except for Makima’s coat and his work uniform, but Aki had been expecting that. 

Aki suddenly remembers what he was doing. Angel makes a noise in his sleep, and Aki wants to hold him tighter. He wants to do something even dumber than what he’s doing right now, like lean down and kiss Angel’s forehead, or brush his hand on his cheek. He can’t do any of that, but he wants to, so instead he stands there in the middle of Angel’s room feeling especially stupid. 

Very suddenly, Angel stops breathing. His eyes shoot open and his entire body goes rigid in Aki’s arms. 

Oops, is all Aki can think. 

“Excuse me,” Angel says, polite and stiff.

Aki gulps. “Yeah.”

Angel neatly drops out of Aki’s arms and onto the floor. The blanket around his shoulders would make it more difficult to take him seriously if Aki wasn’t sort of fearing for his life. 

“You’re going to get yourself killed.” Angel is looking up at him, brows drawn together.

Aki wonders why the Future Devil doesn’t ever show him anything useful that would get him out of a situation like this. He doesn’t open his mouth. He probably would just make it worse. 

Angel looks upset, but not really angry. Disappointed, maybe? Aki can’t place it. He looks caught between sadness and disinterest, or is it resignation and worry? It’s hard to keep up– Aki can’t tell what Angel expects from him. Taking him to bed is a step too far but whatever had happened in the kitchen the other day isn’t?

“Do you think I want more of your lifespan?”

“No.”

Angel shifts his weight back and forth. “I know it’s bad.”

“What?”

“That we can’t….” Angel gestures vaguely. “Be normal. I’m not stupid, Aki.”

It feels like the entire room is holding its breath, suddenly. Aki feels like he’s been caught in a lie, but he’s not really sure about what. Angel is always ten steps in a different direction, having conversations that Aki didn’t even realize they were having until he says something out loud. 

“I know you aren’t stupid,” Aki says, even though he’s not really sure he knows what’s happening. “I don’t know what you’re talking about–”

“I like you because you don’t play dumb,” Angel says bluntly. “You don’t play dumb, you’re mean, and you’re sort of nice to look at.”

“I’m mean?”

“Aki,” Angel says, and it looks like the very edge of his mouth has ticked upward in some sort of sad smile. “Don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”

Aki stops. He hates this. He hates everything about this stupid game that they’re both trapped in, where they flirt and joke but never follow through. It’s driving him insane– if they’re going to do anything at all, Aki wants it to matter. He wants it to have consequences. It can’t be this forever, because even if it makes his head spin and his heart beat faster, they’re both clearly killing themselves with it.

“What do you want me to do?” Aki asks, because he needs to know. Angel is confusing enough as he is, and Aki’s never done any of this before even with someone normal. He wants Angel to tell him.

“I don’t know,” Angel says, and he at least has the decency to look apologetic. “I shouldn’t have moved in–”

“No.” Even Aki is shocked by how much it sounds like he means it. “I, look– I’m sorry, I don’t–”

Angel reaches out one hand and then stops just before he touches Aki’s arm. It falls lamely at his side. “I’m tired, Aki.”

He looks sad, and Aki wants nothing more than to fix it. He wants to put his hands on Angel’s face and pull him in to kiss. But he can’t. 

“Okay,” Aki says. “I– Okay.”

“I’m sorry.” 

Aki doesn’t think that Angel has ever meant an apology before in his life. It’s not a kiss, or a confession, or anything concrete, really, but Aki folds it up and tucks it into his chest next to his heart anyway. It’s something Angel has given him that no one else has. It’s precious.

This is fucked up. 

Angel mumbles something, maybe a goodnight, but Aki closes the bedroom door without saying anything. His own room feels cold.

______

Avoiding someone you live in a relatively cramped apartment with is difficult, but Angel thinks he’s managing. 

It’s cruel of him. He knows that. Aki didn’t do anything wrong. Aki didn’t do anything that Angel hadn’t encouraged. 

Angel knows what he wants. Angel wants Aki for himself– standing next to him, sleeping in his bed, tugging him around by his stupid Public Safety tie. He wants Aki alive and breathing. He wants Aki a safe, solid six feet away and at no risk whatsoever.

He cannot have both of those things. 

Angel never should have moved in. It’s too difficult. Aki is always right there, down the hall, close enough to touch in normal clothes with his hair down, pretending not to smile at Denji and Power. 

Angel’s never been in love before, but for some reason, it feels familiar. He doesn’t have to think about it very hard. Of course that’s what it is. There’s no other explanation, and he’s not interested in trying to find one.

Aki’s in love with him, too. Angel might not be human, but he knows it’s not normal to ask someone to move in like that. Not that it helps. It doesn’t make any of it any better, or give Aki any more time, or make Angel any less dangerous for him to be around. There is nothing either of them can do.

All it would take is a few bumps, brushes, or accidents and Aki doesn’t have enough time left to be careless. Angel should leave. He should’ve left a long time ago. He never should’ve moved in in the first place. He should go and grab his things and move back to Public Safety and ignore Kishibe and Makima when they ask him about it and never talk to Aki again.

But he’s in love with Aki. So he doesn’t.

_____

Power and Denji have long since gone to bed when Aki goes outside for a cigarette. He’s not sure what Angel is doing, but he’s holed up somewhere in his room. Things haven’t been awkward, necessarily, but Angel is clearly avoiding him. Aki understands why, but it still stings. Maybe none of this was a good idea in the first place. He shouldn’t have asked Angel to move in. Now they’re both stuck in this loop forever. Now they’re both miserable.

He digs in his pocket for his lighter and pulls out a cigarette, leaning against the railing of the balcony. It’s late, but not very. Denji and Power might be in bed but they’re probably whispering to each other under a blanket. Angel is in his room but he’s probably petting the cat. 

Aki sort of wishes he’d thought to put a hoodie on. The long sleeves that he’s taken to wearing constantly mean it’s not cold enough to send him back inside to go get one. Voices are coming up from the street, people going home from dinner and leaving to have a night out. 

Faintly, the door behind him slides open. If it were Denji he’d know by now, so Aki just takes another cigarette out of the box rather than turn around, like moving too quickly will scare Angel off. 

Angel appears in the corner of his eye, bending forward to cross his arms on the railing and rest his chin on them. His halo lights up the space between them. Aki doesn’t dare turn his head.

“You want one?” He asks, quiet and flat. 

Angel sighs. “Yeah.”

Instead of taking one from the pack Aki holds out to him, Angel straightens up and turns, head pointed at Aki’s shoulder. He reaches up and takes the cigarette from between Aki’s fingers, already half gone, and sticks it between his lips. His expression doesn’t change. 

“I was using that,” Aki says, finally letting himself look. Angel’s shirt is too big, skewed slightly over one shoulder, exposing his neck and his collarbone, jutting out beneath his skin, flushed a little pink from the cold. Aki wants to hold it between his teeth.

Angel doesn’t even shrug. “And now I’m using it.”

“If Denji were here he’d start yelling at you about indirect kisses.” Aki wants to hit himself for saying it. It’s too close to what he actually wants to talk about– how much farther they’re going to push this, what’s going on. If anything is going to send Angel slinking back inside to the safety of his room, it’s that. 

“Guess you’ll have to do it for him.” Angel takes a very long drag, blowing smoke up into Aki’s face. 

Suddenly, Aki feels bold. “It’s not like it’s our first.”

The idea of sharing anything with Angel, of anything being theirs makes Aki’s heart thud in his chest. Angel turns away from him then, looking back out from the balcony. He grinds the end of his cigarette on the railing and flicks the butt down into the street.

“Want another?” Aki holds the pack out again, but Angel looks at it with disinterest. 

“You go ahead,” he says, inclining his head, the very picture of bored innocence. Aki feels like there’s something he’s missing, but does as he’s told. 

Angel lights it for him, leaning closer than Aki ever thought he would without a suit on. Maybe Aki’s kidding himself, but he thinks he can feel the warmth of his body heat. He smells like cigarettes and Aki’s apartment and the ramen they had for dinner. Aki bets he’d taste like it, too. 

He wants to ask now what? but he doesn’t think it would be worth risking whatever moment they’re having. A few more inches and their arms would brush, Angel’s hand would bump into his chest– he’s close enough to touch.

“How is it?” Angel asks, perfectly casual. 

“The cigarette?” Aki says, careful of the thing between his teeth. “About as good as they ever are.”

Angel nods, just a single dip of his chin. “Did you start smoking before or after you knew you were going to die?”

Aki considers, briefly, quipping about how everyone dies sometime, but he knows that’s not what Angel wants. He exhales, and Angel breathes in. He tells the truth. “After.”

“Do you think you enjoy things more if you know they’re only going to kill you faster?”

He’s the prettiest thing Aki’s ever seen, and Aki can’t have him. “I guess you could say there’s a pattern.”

The very corner of Angel’s mouth twitches up. Aki blows out smoke, just to see what happens, and sure enough, Angel inhales. 

Aki has to ask. “Are you mad at me?”

“Yeah,” Angel says. “Somehow, you managed to convince me that you’re worth keeping around. I don’t want you to die, Aki.”

“I don’t want to be the thing that kills you” is what Aki hears. He wishes he’d brought the gloves, or a jacket, or fucking anything he could use to cover his hands. Instead, he leans in closer and shifts down just slightly. Enough that he can pretend it never happened. 

“I can be careful,” Aki says. “I won’t let it be your fault.”

Angel blinks, shocked. One, slow blink of those big red eyes, and then he recovers. He takes a deep breath.“Promise?”

Of course. Of course. “Promise.”

Angel’s bottom lip juts out, pouting, pretending to think Aki’s words over. “Then I suppose I could forgive you. You’re lucky I don’t hold a grudge.”

Aki shifts down again. There’s barely enough room between them for the cigarette in his mouth. He takes a long drag.

Angel’s lips part in time for the exhale. Aki doesn’t think he’s ever wanted to kiss someone so badly.

_____

“You’re playing with fire, Aki,” Angel says, secondhand smoke filling his lungs. 

He’s lying, though. Angel is the one at risk of getting burned. He’s the one sitting on the floor in front of the candle, seeing how close he can get before it burns his fingers. He’s the one jumping off of buildings and reaching up at the sun. 

He knows how it’s going to end. He knows that someday, one of them is going to get careless, lazy, or desperate, and even if they manage to keep their hands to themselves, Aki is still going to die. But Angel is tired. He’s tired and alone and Aki is right there in front of him.

Maybe he wants this. He wants the fire to melt the feathers off his wings and send him careening down to earth, because even if the inevitable crash landing leaves him bloody, at least he’ll have the scars to prove that Aki was real and close enough to touch. 

“Tell me not to kiss you,” Aki says quietly. He keeps leaning farther down, like if he does it slowly enough, Angel won’t realize. Angel puts his hands on Aki’s chest. He wants to put them on his neck. Lay one along the side of Aki’s face so his finger can rest where his jaw hinges behind his ear and hold the other where he can feel Aki’s blood pulsing under his skin. 

“That’s not fair.”

Aki smiles. He leans back just far enough that he can take another pull of his cigarette, and leans right back in, like the idea of being farther away from Angel than he needs to be is unfathomable, unthinkable. Angel wants to throw himself over the balcony railing. He wants to bite Aki’s bottom lip and make him bleed. 

Aki told him that it wouldn’t be Angel’s fault when he died. Angel doesn’t believe him, really, but he wants this. Right now, at least, he’s willing to pretend.

It could be that a few minutes pass, or it could be hours. They stand there in the dark, the only light coming from Angel’s halo, blowing cigarette smoke back and forth, with barely room for more than the air between them.

“Come to bed with me,” Aki asks, sounding slightly breathless.

Angel raises his eyebrows. “You’re very forward, aren’t you?”

Aki rolls his eyes and huffs. “I– Not like– you know what I mean. You’re telling me you want to go back in there and sleep in your own bed down the hall?”

Tonight seems to be one for honesty, so Angel stays true to theme. “Not really.”

“I’ll wear as many layers as you tell me to, Angel. Line the pillows up between us, if you want.”

Angel clenches his hands in the fabric of Aki’s shirt. “Wear the gloves. Get a hoodie and pull the hood up, or put a blanket somewhere–”

Aki’s hand, which at some point found its way to a spot on Angel’s waist, fists in his shirt. “Anything. Whatever you want.”

“Okay,” Angel says, nodding, and then Aki flicks away the cigarette butt and hustles them toward the door. It feels ridiculous, racing into Aki’s room to do nothing more than lay down and sleep, but Angel thinks that he could die happy just from that. 

Aki puts on the gloves and the hoodie and helps Angel drag the comforter from his room to put on Aki’s bed. Angel pulls a hoodie on and gets halfway stuck trying to find the neck, he's so keyed up. Aki shifts it so he can find his way out and as soon as Angel’s head touches the air again Aki’s hands are on his face. Everything still smells like smoke. 

Angel wants to look into those blue eyes forever. He could lie in that bed and not fall asleep for hours and he’d be perfectly content. 

“Come on,” Aki says, and of course Angel follows him.

_____

Aki wakes up by himself. The sun is already streaming bright through the window and he can hear the sounds of Denji and Power playing video games in the living room. The space in bed next to him is empty, but the blanket Angel had been wrapped up in is still there, and so is his ridiculous amount of pillows. Aki doesn’t think he’s ever slept so peacefully in his entire life, and Angel isn’t even there in the morning. 

Did he fuck up? Was this all just one big bad idea? They didn’t even do anything, really, but of course he stumbled his way into making Angel uncomfortable, and now he’s going to move out and request a new partner at work, or maybe he won’t even do that and everything will just be terribly awkward forever–

The door opens and Angel walks in and sits right down on the end of the bed, knocking into Aki’s feet under the blanket. 

“Are you freaking out?” Angel asks. His hair is a little darker than usual, hanging damp over his shoulders. “You kind of look like you’re freaking out.”

“I’m not,” Aki lies. Then he wakes up a bit more and takes a second look at Angel’s hoodie. It’s not the one he went to bed in. “Is that my hoodie?”

“Yes.”

“Did you cut holes in the back of my hoodie?”

Angel looks at him like he’s stupid. His wings twitch. “Yes.”

Aki props himself up on his elbows and for the first time looks at his clock. Oh. It’s eleven. That explains a lot, actually. Angel shifts, pulling his legs onto the bed to sit criss-cross. He’s wearing sweatpants, but the cuffs are rolled up to make them fit. Aki is afraid to ask. 

“Are those my pants?”

“As fun as this game is, I think I’ll save you some trouble and tell you right now that everything I’m wearing I stole from you.”

There’s a particularly loud noise that sounds suspiciously like Denji hitting Power with a pillow, and Aki figures he has five minutes to go out there before they break the TV. “I– Why?”

Angel shrugs. “Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do?”

“I mean, only if you want to.” 

“Of course I want to, that’s why I did it.” Angel looks like he wants to open Aki’s head and check to make sure everything is where it’s supposed to be. Aki doesn’t think he’s being that slow.

“There you go, then,” Aki says, and then decides to drop it because he’s finding he doesn’t actually mind very much. “How long have you been up?”

“Hour and a half, I had to take a shower before Chainsaw beat me to it. Everything smelled like cigarettes.”

Oh, yeah. Aki thinks his face is turning red. “Sorry.”

“I don’t mind it on you,” Angel says, as though the distinction makes perfect sense. “But it gets in my hair.”

“Right.”

Angel just keeps looking at him. Aki might be going crazy, but it might even be with a fond expression. “Denji and Power want breakfast. Or, well. Lunch, at this point.”

There’s another loud sound, this time coming from the kitchen, followed by Denji yelling “Shit!”  

Aki drops his head back on the pillow. Great. 

_____

Even with the TV volume up relatively high, it’s impossible to hear over Denji and Power’s constant chatter, which Angel finds consists mostly of curse words and calls for each other’s heads. Not to mention Aki’s racket in the kitchen– but that at least results in food. 

“You’re taking too long,” Power whines. Her hand is set out on the table and Denji is holding onto her middle finger for dear life, trying– and failing, honestly– to paint it red. 

Denji grunts, leaning so close to her hand that it’s a wonder he can see anything useful at all. “You asked me to do it, so shut up.”

“I wanted blood, like that wench on the poster! The blood of my enemies!” 

“That’s– It’s nail polish,” Denji rolls his eyes. “Nobody walks around with their fingers covered in blood. That’d be pretty cool, though.”

Angel thinks that whatever he’s doing to Power right now looks like a solid imitation, though. “Aki said no to the blood anyway, didn’t he?”

Power sticks out her tongue. “Topknot hates fun.”

Nyako emerges from under the table, rubbing a cheek on Power’s knee, and suddenly her hand rips out of Denji’s to pet the cat, smearing nail polish all over her hand. Denji looks like he might kill someone, so Angel scoots a few inches farther away. Just to be safe.

“Don’t get it on the cat,” Aki says from the kitchen, sounding particularly annoyed. Angel doesn’t think that’s very fair, considering he got to sleep in. 

Angel wrinkles his nose, watching Nyako race out of the room.. “Too late.”

Denji grabs Power’s hand again, hunching back over with a new determination. “Stay still.”

Power kicks a leg out, hitting Denji square in the side, and then suddenly they’re wrestling on the floor. Angel sighs, props his head up on his chin, and cranks the television up even louder. Lunch will be ready soon, anyway.

_____

Angel doesn’t sleep in his own bed anymore. Aki keeps picking up his shirts off of the floor to find big holes cut out of the back. He has the gloves on more often than not. He hasn’t slept this well since he was a kid. 

Objectively, very little has changed. He still wakes up, feeds Denji and Power, goes to work, buys Angel ice cream, and goes home to do the whole thing again. Now, though, he falls asleep with Angel curled around his back. His clothes are covered in white feathers and he gets to drag Angel out of bed every morning when his alarm goes off. 

They don’t really go anywhere, they don’t really do anything, but Aki isn’t sure he wants to. Surely he should be feeling some sort of urgency, right? The days are slipping by, fewer and fewer, but he doesn’t want to run. Someone else would be traveling the world. Someone else would be scrambling to steal more time. Maybe it’s crazy, but Aki just wants to stay where he is. 

Angel kicks at night and steals Aki’s cigarettes and practically refuses to do his job, especially now, but Aki never wants to stop looking at him, never wants to stop putting up with it. 

“You’re staring,” Angel says, not, as far as Aki understands, for the first time. He has an exasperated look on his face. Aki twitches, wishes he could kiss it off of him. 

“Sorry, Angel,” but he isn’t, really. 

They’re at work. 

“Three more hours until we’re off the clock.” Angel raises his eyebrows. “Then you can be as weird as you like, okay?

Aki stands there sputtering for a solid minute, while Angel looks very much like he wants to laugh at him. Those three hours last a very long time. 

_____

Everything about this is a bad idea. Angel knows that. All of this is just asking them to make some fatal, devastating mistake that results in Aki dying even more prematurely than he needs to. 

They wear gloves and long sleeves and Angel sleeps with his own comforter at night, but it doesn’t feel like enough. Angel is better at remembering than Aki is. For someone who had yelled at Angel about not wanting to die during the fight with the Bomb Devil, he’s only getting more and more careless. 

Angel feels guilty about the whole thing. What does he need so badly that he’s willing to be as risky as they’re being? Why can’t he just grab his stuff and leave? He doesn’t want to break Aki’s heart, but it would definitely keep him alive for longer than whatever they’re doing right now will. 

Aki seems so sure that this is worth it. He moves when Angel tells him to and wears too many layers to bed, but he’ll roll his eyes and scoff like he doesn’t really see the point, or like he doesn’t really care. Maybe he doesn’t.

“Scooch over,” Angel says. They’re on the train back from work. Angel’s sitting against the wall blocking his seat in, and Aki’s on his other side. There’s nothing that could touch aside from their faces, but Angel tells him to move anyway. “You’re squishing me.”

He isn’t, really– Angel has plenty of room and he knows it. Aki gives him the extra space anyway. “Whatever. You’re being picky.”

“You’re being stupid,” Angel retorts, not for the first time.

When Angel turns his head to face him, Aki is already looking down. He’s wearing the expression that means that he’s humoring Angel more than anything else, which Angel supposes is better than nothing. 

He knows he’s blurring the lines. It’s not fair to Aki. Sometimes one thing is too far and then the next day it’s fine– sometimes Angel will tell him off just for looking. His resolve is crumbling. He doesn’t want Aki dead, but he doesn’t want him too far away, either. 

Angel tries and fails to blow his fringe out of his face. Aki lifts one hand and brushes it to the side for him. Stupid, stupid, stupid. 

But Angel doesn’t have the energy to argue right now. He shifts into the space Aki made for him, pressing their legs together. “Thanks,” he says.

Aki smiles, just barely.

______

Aki gets woken up by the sound of what might as well be every pot and pan he owns falling onto the floor. He sits straight up in bed, snapped all the way awake. Angel, arms around his waist, turns his head into the pillow.

“Fuck was that?” he mumbles, and Aki feels only a little bad about getting out of bed. 

There are the telltale sounds of Denji attempting to whisper, and then Power hissing at him. Aki sighs. At least nobody’s broken into the apartment. He tosses the comforter to the side, accidentally throwing it over Angel, who says something else that Aki can’t really make out.

“I’ll be right back,” he says, and then walks over to the door.

As it opens he can hear Denji groan. “Now look at what you did! We’re gonna get in trouble.”

“Tis your fault! If you had simply caught it, then no one would have woken up!”

From where Aki is standing, it looks like the two of them have managed to dump no less than one full cabinet of dishes on the ground. At least he doesn’t think there’s any broken glass. “What are you doing? It’s two in the morning.”

There’s a split second where Aki watches them look at each other, clearly trying to decide if it’s better to team up against him or turn on each other. He wishes he’d stayed in bed.

“We wanted chicken nuggets,” Denji says, looking more confident when Power nods along.

“At two in the morning.”

Power lifts her chin. “You didn’t feed us enough.”

They had both gone for seconds, and then thirds at dinner. “Right.”

The door behind him opens again, and even though it couldn’t have been anyone else, Aki knows it’s Angel from the look on Denji’s face. Power doesn’t seem to notice, too caught up in complaining about how little dinner she allegedly got to eat.

“Uh,” Denji says, pointing an accusing finger. “What’s he doing in there?”

Angel shuffles to Aki’s side, hair falling out of the bun he’d put it in to sleep. There’s a blanket wrapped around his shoulders, making his wings poke out the bottom at a funny angle. His eyes are mostly closed, and he rubs at one of them with a gloved hand. Aki wants to hold him. 

“Wait a second,” Power’s eyes narrow, flicking back and forth between Aki and Angel. “You were right?”

“I’m always fuckin’ right! I told you his room was empty!”

“What are you talking about?” Aki wishes, entirely in vain, that they would just pick up the mess they made and go back to bed.

“He hasn’t been sleeping in his room,” Denji says, “Power thought he turned invisible in his sleep but I thought that he was sneaking out to do illegal stuff–”

Angel tilts his head. “You weren’t right, then.”

Denji doesn’t notice. “But neither of us guessed he was in your room.” Suddenly he seems to realize something. He looks back at Aki again, with an expression on his face that makes Aki very nervous. “Wait. Isn’t that like– Kind of gay?”

Aki closes his eyes. Maybe if he just falls back asleep, this will all have been a dream, and he won’t be standing in his kitchen hearing the word ‘gay’ in Denji’s voice.

“Kind of,” Angel allows, the traitorous bastard.

“How do you know what gay means?” Aki asks, and then immediately regrets acknowledging that he’s heard anything.

“I don’t know what gay means,” Power whines, tugging on Denji’s arm. “I want to know– Denji, you have to tell me–”

“I read things,” Denji says, and then thinks about it for a bit and adds, “Or. Well. I look at pictures,” which honestly Aki should’ve expected.

“I want to know!” Power pulls on Denji’s arm harder, making both of them fall into a neat pile on top of the dishes. “I want to look at pictures! You’re all very mean to me, Denji–”

“Jesus Christ,” Aki says, head in his hands.

Angel knocks their elbows together. “I should’ve stayed in bed.”

“Does that mean you’re gay?” Denji asks from the ground, incredulous, like he didn’t realize that was an adjective that could apply to Aki. He looks at him, scrutinizing. “You don’t look very gay.”

“Goodnight,” Aki says before he can find out what Denji thinks he should look like. Power is still demanding answers, and Aki doesn’t want to be there when Denji finally gets around to giving them to her. “Clean this up, or don’t. I don’t fucking care.”

Angel actually laughs, and Aki only takes a second to appreciate it after the bedroom door has shut behind him. It opens a moment later, and Angel climbs into bed next to him, curls around his back, and presses his face into Aki’s shirt. 

“I bribed them into cleaning it up tomorrow morning,” Angel says, muffled. 

“Do I want to know with what?”

Angel ignores him. “That was funny, c’mon.”

Aki rolls his eyes, even though Angel can’t tell. “A little bit.”

Angel’s arm comes up to rest around Aki’s middle as he makes a content little noise. “I’m going back to sleep.”

“Night, Angel,” Aki says, but Angel’s breathing is already slowing back down, so he just grabs Angel’s hand instead. 

_____

“This show is boring,” Angel says, not for the first time. His chin is resting in his hand, propped up on the dining table. He pokes Aki’s leg with his socked foot. “Change the channel.”

“You think everything is boring,” Aki replies, changing the channel anyway. This one doesn’t look better, some weird cooking show with an artificially colored set and overdone sound effects, but Aki has the volume on low anyway. 

“Topknot!” Power yells from the hallway, marching in to stand in front of the TV. Nyako is stretched across her shoulders, blinking sleepily. Her hair is pulled up into a ponytail so messy that Angel is certain that Denji is the one who put it up for her. “I need something!”

“Of course you do,” Aki says, but his tone is light so Angel doesn’t think he actually minds very much.

She sticks a finger in Aki’s face, an inch from his nose. This’ll be good. “Take us to an aquarium!”

“Wow,” Angel says. “Points for creativity.”

“Shut up!” Power wags her finger at him, and he makes commiserating eye contact with Nyako. “You are not invited.” She looks back at Aki, a little nervous. “He cannot come.”

Aki doesn’t miss a beat. “Why do you want to go to an aquarium?”

“ I don’t.” She sounds offended by the very suggestion. She crosses her arms. “Denji does.”

“Why does Denji want to go to an aquarium?”

She falters slightly like she can’t really remember the specifics. “Something about a strange flightless bird… penguin? I do not see the point of a bird who can’t fly, what is the purpose of having wings if you don’t use them?”

Angel stretches his wings out, surely shedding feathers onto the floor. “Beats me.”

“They use them to swim,” Aki says, which Angel didn’t know, actually. It makes sense, but he supposes he’s never spent much time thinking about penguins. 

Power narrows her eyes at Angel. “Do you use yours to swim?”

Probably not. He doesn’t think he’s ever even seen the ocean, really. 

It feels, suddenly, like he’s surfacing from water. It’s running off his face and over his eyes, and he can taste the salt. He can feel it pushing down at his head and pulling him up and someone nearby is laughing, and he wants to laugh, too— 

But that doesn’t make any sense. He shakes his head like a dog drying off. Angel’s never been swimming. 

And even if he had, it would probably be too much work. He says as much. “Too much work.”

“Anyway,” Aki cuts in, sounding like he’s edging toward exasperated. “If Denji wants to go see the penguins, why are you the one asking me about it?”

“He doesn’t know I’m telling you.”

Angel shifts forward, crossing his arms on the table. This is slowly turning out to be interesting against all odds, but he’d still much rather be in bed right now. Aki’s bed, more specifically. 

“He said he wanted to go with a girl,” Power says. “Normally I would pay his foolish whims no mind but he has been…” she gestures vaguely, twirling her arms in a desperate– and in Angel’s opinion fruitless– attempt to convey her meaning.

Aki seems to get it somehow. “Oh. He wanted to go with the Bo–”

“Yes! Exactly!” Power starts yelling again. “Some sort of romantic human outing–”

“It’s called a date.”

“He’s so boring now! He goes to bed so early and refuses to help me prank you and he will not stop sighing,” she sighs exaggeratedly, throwing her arms up and looking at the ceiling. Her shoulders slump and her mouth hangs open– it isn’t a terrible impression, honestly.  “Like that. Over and over and over–”

“You want to cheer him up,” Aki says, and when Angel looks at him he’s smiling a little. “That’s kind of sweet of you, Power.”

“I am not sweet! I’m just sick of sad, depressing Denji!”

Angel remembers, then, what happened to the Bomb Devil. He wonders if Aki knows that had been Angel’s assignment. If Aki knows whose weapon it was that went straight through that girl’s heart. He hadn’t really wanted to, but he wanted Aki to have to do it even less, and Makima was the one who asked him. For some reason, Angel can’t really ever say no to Makima. 

Power’s still yelling, though Angel’s lost the thread on what. Either way, she grabs Nyako off of the ground and stomps away in the direction of her room, leaving Angel and Aki alone.

“So,” Aki says. “I guess we’re going to the aquarium.”

Angel shakes his head. “Weren’t you listening? I’m not invited.”

“It’s my credit card.”

Angel supposes that’s fair. He remembers what Power had said. Romantic human outing. “Why do you want me to come so bad, huh?”

He’s teasing, honestly, Aki hasn’t even pushed that hard to get Angel to come, but Aki turns red over it anyway. Angel likes it when that happens. Likes watching Aki get flustered over nothing, especially now. It’s better when they aren’t pretending. 

“Thought you’d manage to take me on a date without even asking first?” Angel asks, propping his chin up on his hand. Aki scoffs. 

“Would you go otherwise? You like sitting around here doing nothing more than anything in the world.”

That’s not entirely untrue, Angel allows, but it looks like Aki’s actually a little embarrassed. Angel’s lazy, more than most humans ever manage to be. Aki rolls his eyes about it when they’re at work or when it's Angel's turn to take out the trash, but Angel had always figured it didn’t really bother him otherwise. 

Angel worries at his lip. “I’d go if you wanted to.”

“I don’t want to make you do it–”

“No.” Angel shakes his head, feeling that at some point, somewhere along the line, he fucked up. “Look, I know I’m lazy–”

“Incredibly. Impressively.”

“Shut up,” Angel says. Miraculously, Aki does. “I know I’m lazy, and that I like sitting around doing nothing, but I like you too, okay? Work sucks because I have to do it. But hanging out like this is only as nice as it is because you’re here.”

He doesn’t usually say so much at once, and Aki’s mouth is hanging slightly open. Angel’s never understood the way humans trip over their words and say things they don’t mean. Aki doesn’t do it very much, which Angel’s always appreciated. They only have so much time, they can only do so much, and he wants Aki to believe it.

“Okay,” Aki says, sounding a little dumb.

“So if you want me to go to the aquarium, I’ll go.”

Aki still doesn’t look like he really buys it. “You’ll walk around with Denji and Power to look at fish? Surrounded by humans? We’ll have to take the train.”

Angel looks up at Aki through his fringe and blinks one too many times. Maybe sticks his bottom lip out a bit. Sue him, the trick hasn’t failed him once. “Take me on a date, Aki.”

Sure enough, Aki’s resolve crumbles. His eyes go soft around the edges and his semi-permanent frown fades. He sighs, like it doesn’t matter to him one way or another. “Fine. We’ll go to the aquarium.”

_____

Aki can’t sleep. He refuses to check the time, but he’s sure it’s very late at night or incredibly early. Angel had fallen asleep with his head on Aki’s chest and his arms wrapped around his middle, but at some point in the night, he’d rolled away. Not that Aki blames him. Sleeping with that much skin covered gets warm– he would know.

Angel’s back is facing him, one wing folded up against the mattress and one lifted up to cover his face. Aki wants to touch him. Reach out and roll him back over, hide his face in Angel’s hair, squeeze. He could, too. They’re wearing enough clothes, and Angel’s hair isn’t off limits, even if Aki touching it seems to make him nervous. But it wouldn’t be enough. He wants Angel’s skin on his, he wants them under the same blanket at night, nothing between them.

Angel makes a muffled noise and stretches one wing up in the air, only for it to drop back down as he turns his face into his pillow. His breathing stays even. Angel wouldn’t fault Aki for staring, really, but he would probably laugh. He’d make some snide remark and stick his nose in the air because that’s easier than thinking about how staring is the only thing Aki can do that isn’t also technically risking his life.

The light streaming through the window bleaches Angel’s wings brighter, somehow. They’re already a pure, stark white during the day, and even when devil hunting drenches them both in blood it rinses right out. It’s never once left a stain. 

Hair isn’t off-limits. It’s dead, barely even part of Angel anymore. Aki’s allowed to run his hand through it, even as Angel snaps at him to be careful. An idea starts to form. 

Aki doesn’t remember the details, really, but he’s pretty sure feathers work the same way. Pretty sure. Angel’s wings hit him in the face when Aki was saving him. It was only two months. It didn't hurt. Maybe that’s what’s so awful about it, is that it doesn’t even hurt.

Slowly, Aki reaches a hand out. The primary feathers let the light through, shining almost like they want him to touch, like he’s supposed to. Nothing happens. Losing two months hadn’t hurt, but he’d felt it. Something slipping out of his fingers, too fast for him to catch, his heart had fallen through to his stomach. Touching Angel’s wings doesn’t feel like anything at all. 

The feathers are soft. The farther up his hands move the warmer they get. There’s blood, bones, and skin wrapped up in a soft white blanket that Aki can touch. It’s not perfect but it’s better than anything else has been, and Aki knows he should probably stop before Angel wakes up and bites his hand off but he doesn’t want to, isn’t sure he could.

All of a sudden, Angel stiffens and his breathing stops. His wings tuck up close to his back and Aki catches his eye, wide and shining. “Aki.”

Aki could move, could pretend like he wasn’t doing anything at all, but it’s too late. “Angel.”

“What are you doing?”

Aki rolls onto his back, looking up at the ceiling. “I’m sorry.”

“Do you want to die?”

“Nothing happened,” Aki says. “It’s like your hair– I would’ve known if I lost–”

“I know that,” Angel snaps. “I know how it works. I know exactly how much time you have left. You’re being fucking stupid.”

Aki has to ask, then. “Can you tell? All the time?”

Angel laughs once. It’s bitter sounding and a little choked off. “It’s like someone wrote it on your head in permanent marker.”

“I’m sorry.”

Aki’s right eye waters. He blinks, trying to clear it, but instead of the ceiling in the dark, he sees the back of his own head. He’s in a car for some reason, with only one hand on the wheel, and Angel is clearly the one in the passenger seat. His head is leaning against the window, looking out of it. They’re driving along the coast, clouds hanging low over the ocean. It looks like it might rain. Neither of them are saying a word. Aki blinks again and it’s gone. 

What was that about? Aki thinks, but the Future Devil keeps quiet.

Angel’s drawn his legs up to his chest, arms wrapped around his knees. “You promised me.”

“It was just your wing, Angel, I wouldn’t do that–”

“You would.” It’s not an accusation, but Angel says it with conviction. Like he knows. Like it’s inevitable. “If I let you? You would.”

Aki closes his mouth. 

Angel takes a deep breath. “And if you had more time then maybe I wouldn’t stop you. Isn’t that fucked up?”

Yeah. 

Aki turns his head. Angel is staring at him, lit up only by the blue light from the window and the white-gold light from his halo. He’s looking at Aki like he wants to eat him alive. Aki would let him– he wants him to do it. He wants to peel off strips of his skin and offer them up to Angel if he asked, just like he did the Fox Devil, only he wouldn’t want anything in return, no powers or extra time, just the image of his blood smeared on Angel’s perfect, white teeth. 

“Angel.”

“I know that everything about this is awful, okay? But I don’t want you to die.”

Aki swallows. “I won’t. Not because of you. I– It’s not awful.”

Angel doesn’t look like he believes it, really, but Aki doesn’t know what else he can say to convince him. “Just. Be careful, okay? I’m sorry I yelled at you.”

“You’re not,” Aki says, because he knows it’s true, and Angel almost smiles. “I’ll be careful. I won’t– I’ll ask.”

Angel lays back down and wraps his arms around one of Aki’s. He rests his chin on Aki’s shoulder, and when Aki turns his head he realizes he would hardly have to move at all to kiss him. Angel twists one wing around to cover both of them.

“You can,” he says. “Touch it, I mean. It’s not actually a bad idea on your part.”

Aki rolls his eyes. “Oh, wow, thank you.”

“Just don’t do anything stupid…” Angel says, trailing off. He’s always been able to fall asleep in a second flat, and apparently, tonight is no different. 

Aki manages to fall back asleep eventually, and when he wakes up in the morning, Angel hasn’t rolled away.

_____

Angel waits twenty minutes, and then thirty, and then decides to go and drag Aki back inside himself. He’d said he was going out for a cigarette, but at this rate, he must be out there chain-smoking. Angel doesn’t mind, really, but he likes to feel included.

“Oh,” Aki says when Angel slides the balcony door open. “Sorry. I didn’t realize I’d been so long.”

Angel shrugs. It’s a little cold, so he presses his shoulder against Aki’s, albeit a bit closer to the ground. He reaches up and steals Aki’s cigarette, takes a short drag, and hands it back. 

“You can have your own, you know.” Aki digs around in his pocket and holds out a pack of cigarettes. “I’m not so much of a dick that I’ll make you pay me back.”

“I like stealing them from you. It’s no fun if I just have one.”

Aki holds the cigarette between his lips, maybe for longer than he needs to. “I guess I don’t mind.”

They stand there like that, shoulder to shoulder, passing the cigarette back and forth. When it goes out, Angel holds out the lighter for the next one. “Can’t we go inside? It’s cold out here. It’s not like it’s going to make it smell any worse.”

“You’re not supposed to smoke in bed, everybody knows that.”

Nobody ever said anything about the bed. Angel wrinkles his nose. “Why?”

“Something about falling asleep and fire hazards,” Aki shrugs. 

“Just don’t fall asleep,” Angel says. “Problem solved.”

Aki turns, one elbow on the railing, leaning down an inch or two. Angel isn’t surprised when the smoke hits him, and he breathes in. It gives him an excuse to look at Aki’s lips, at least. The smoke tastes bad in his mouth, but it smells like Aki, and it’s not like he has another option, so he breathes in on each of Aki’s exhales. Angel watches as his face slowly flushes red. 

Angel wants to touch him. He’s wearing gloves– technically, he could. But what he really wants is to touch Aki for real. Of course he does. That’s not surprising or interesting or new. It’s the same thing he’s always wanted, ever since Aki told him he didn’t care about stupid mice, city or country aside. 

Aki wants it, too. Angel is the one between them with self-control, somehow. Aki has two years left to live and yet every day he goes to work for Public Safety with the Curse Devil breathing down his neck and he smokes his cigarettes and sleeps with his arms around Angel. He took two months off Aki’s life already– he’s not interested in any more time. 

“Angel,” Aki says, sounding unsteady, and Angel realizes he’s been staring up at Aki this entire time, breathing in smoke, eyes trained on his mouth. 

Angel raises his eyebrows. “What?”

Suddenly, Aki flicks his cigarette butt into the street and leans farther in, hands on either side of Angel’s face, like he’s going to do something stupid, like he’s going to do something fucking suicidal . Angel doesn’t have time to react, throws his hands up on Aki’s chest like he’s going to stop him, but he isn’t sure he really wants to. Would it be worth it, if it’s what Aki wants– 

But an inch away from Angel’s lips, Aki stops. 

Angel can feel his heart pounding, too fast and too heavy in his chest. His breathing is shaky. “What.”

_____

Aki wants to do it. He thinks Angel would let him, even if the guilt would ruin him afterward. The two months Angel already took still bother him, even after Aki has told him four times over he would do it again. He wants to do it more than he’s wanted to do anything in his life. Angel blinks.

“Why’d you make me move in with you, Aki?”

Aki takes a deep breath, leaning farther down to press his face into the curve of Angel’s neck. His hoodie is in the way, it’s not as good as it would be, but Angel lets him. Angel reaches up, so slowly that it’s clear that he’s still nervous– clear that Aki scared him– to put his hands on the back of Aki’s head. He can hardly feel them through the gloves. 

Angel smells like his cigarettes and his shampoo, and as far as Aki can tell it’s his hoodie Angel is wearing, and Aki never wants him to take it off. He wraps an arm around Angel’s waist, just to have something to hold onto. 

“Because I’m in love with you,” and it’s not even a confession. Angel knows. He’s known from the start. “I’m in love with you and I’m going to die before I see twenty-four. I’m sick of not doing the things I want to. I don’t see the point anymore.”

He’d spent so long in a haze. The Gun Devil was all he ever thought about– whether it killed him or the other way around. It would be the end. Even if he lost, it would be over. But now he has a family. He has Denji and Power. He has Angel. 

Angel laughs hollowly. Aki feels it vibrate through his chest. “Is this what you had in mind? Shotgunning cigarettes and wearing gloves to bed so I don’t accidentally kill you in your sleep?”

“Yes,” Aki says. He means it, too. Of course he wants more. Of course he wishes there was more. But he was never lying to himself. “You’re here. I don’t care about the rest of it.”

“But you would do it.”

There’s a strange catch in Angel’s voice, and even with the fabric in the way, Aki can feel it in his throat. He lifts his head, and he can’t believe he wasn’t looking at Angel this whole time. Aki wants to kiss his mean little mouth and the end of his nose and the spots under his eyes and the points of his high cheekbones and the curve of his jaw and anywhere else Angel would let him.

Angel’s hands are on his arms now. “If you could do the rest of it–”

“Yes. Obviously. Whatever you wanted–”

“What would you do,” Angel asks like he isn’t sure he should say it, like even wanting to know is giving too much away, “if you could.”

Aki doesn’t think he could look away from Angel if he wanted to. “Kiss you. And, you know. Other things, probably. But I would start there.”

Angel gulps, and then suddenly is taking a step back toward the door. 

“Stay there,” he says, in a weird tone, and Aki feels like he did something wrong. 

“Where are you going– did I–”

Angel shakes his head. “I have an idea. Just sit down or something, I’ll be right back.”

“Is it a good idea?” Aki asks, nervous. 

Angel snorts. “No. Terrible. Stay there.”

“Okay?” Aki says, even though Angel’s already inside, and then sits down, because he’s discovering that he will do basically anything so long as Angel is the one who asks him to do it. 

It feels like an impossibly long time before Angel comes back, even though he knows it's only been a minute or two. The door slides open and Angel’s back, standing in front of him with a strange look on his face. 

“Is everything okay?” Aki tries to ask, but he blinks and suddenly Angel is climbing onto his lap, slow and matter-of-fact in the slow, matter-of-fact way that Angel does everything. His cheeks burn, so much so that he hardly notices Angel pulling something plastic and sticky over his face as he leans in.

Angel’s lips are warm, even through what Aki realizes must be plastic wrap. Aki doesn’t know what to do, or where to put his hands, he’s never done this before. His hands spasm at Angel’s sides, and when he tries to inhale he finds out that the plastic over his nose makes it hard to breathe.

Angel pulls away to sit back on Aki’s thighs. Aki’s hands land on his waist, above his hips. “Was this a bad idea?”

Aki grabs at the front of Angel’s shirt and reels him closer in. “No, no, this was the best idea you’ve ever had–”

Angel smirks, the smug bastard, and then his lips are on Aki’s again, kissing him like he’s done this before. The idea is at least a little impossible but still makes Aki angry, makes him want this more. The plastic wrap doesn’t have much give, he can’t shove his tongue down Angel’s throat the way he wants to, so he settles for licking at his teeth, the slightly too-sharp canines. He wants them digging into his neck, he wants his blood on Angel’s lips.

Aki fists one hand in Angel’s hair and tugs, wishing he could feel it properly. He doesn’t really notice it happening, but his other hand slides up the back of Angel’s hoodie– it’s stupid, it’s risky, all it would take is his sleeve riding down one precious inch– but he doesn’t care, and something about it makes Angel kiss him harder, making muffled noises as he sucks on Aki’s bottom lip. 

Angel’s hands are on the sides of his face, he’s up on his knees and leaning down, like he could climb into Aki’s skin if he only tried hard enough. God knows Aki would let him. 

He never wants to be any farther away from Angel than this ever again, not even for a second, but his lungs are starting to burn and there’s plastic over his nose so Aki takes his hand out of Angel’s hair, careful not to pull too hard, and pushes Angel away, so gently he’s not even sure Angel will notice. Part of him doesn’t want Angel to move, wants Angel to keep kissing the air out of his lungs and let that be how Aki dies.

“Oh,” Angel says. He’s trying to sound like he’s bored, but the breathlessness gives him away. “Air. You need that.”

“We should only ever do this,” Aki says, sucking in air as fast as he can. Angel’s too far away, his lips are bruised pink and Aki wants them on his own. “Why waste time doing anything else–”

“Aki. Aki,” Angel says, and he’s practically whispering, breathing the name out like it’s some kind of prayer, like it’s Aki’s halo that’s lighting the space between them and not his own. Angel’s hands slide down to Aki’s neck, grip the collar of his shirt. The plastic wrap falls away, but Angel doesn’t miss a beat, just leans in next to Aki’s ear. His breath brushes the side of Aki’s face, slightly too fast, and Aki revels in the fact that he did that . “I think we should go inside.”

Aki breath catches. Angel is warm in his arms and when he sits back he’s grinning, and Aki wonders why he had ever thought this was impossible, why he had ever wondered if it would be worth it, because of course it is, of course it is, it’s fucking absolution. He nods. “Yeah– I– Let’s go inside.”

_____

The aquarium is. Well. It’s an aquarium. 

Angel’s never been to one before, but the concept as he understands it is ‘a bunch of fish,’ and that is exactly what he’s looking at, so he doesn’t really see a reason to complain. 

Aki had been right, of course. The train was miserable and Denji and Power keep bumping into him between tackling each other, but Aki keeps looking at Angel from the corner of his eye, so he supposes it’s not all bad. 

Denji does seem happier, shoving Power’s head down and practically carrying her from tank to tank. 

“Topknot! Read this!” Power demands, pointing at a plaque under a fish tank. Aki makes a show of rolling his eyes and grumbling, but every time they tell him to read a different sign he does it, even though they get bored halfway through. 

Other people in the aquarium stare. Angel doesn’t really mind so long as they don’t say anything. He gets it– two obvious Devils in a very public place, seemingly chaperoned by a teenage boy and some random guy. It’s not like Aki’s in his work uniform. 

“It’s a sea turtle,” Denji says, “You don’t need Aki to tell you that. What are you, stupid?”

Power pouts and smacks Denji over the back of the head. “Do not speak to me that way! ‘Tis disrespectful! I will kill you!”

A few people who hadn’t been staring before snap their heads up to look. 

“I’m pretty sure the one rule was don’t threaten to kill anybody,” Aki says, sighing. There had been more rules than that, Angel remembers. Rules like ‘don’t bite anyone’ and ‘no eating the fish.’ “And anyway, it’s a green sea turtle. There’s more than one kind.”

Denji rolls his eyes. “Whatever. I wanna go see the penguins.”

“We’re almost there,” Angel says. He’s been in charge of the map, mostly because Power got sick of holding it. “Two rooms over.”

Denji groans exaggeratedly, but lets Power drag him over to another tank to look at some kind of frog. 

“They seem to be enjoying themselves.” Angel holds the folded-up map over to Aki. He’s sick of holding it, too.

Aki inclines his head, stuffing the map in his back pocket. “We’ll see how much longer they can keep it together.”

Denji rushes them through the next two rooms, clearly sick of waiting to see the penguins, but nobody really complains. Aki looks like he’s just happy to watch Denji and Power enjoy themselves, and Angel is satisfied enough following Aki around so long as they’re holding hands. He was promised a date, after all. 

When they do finally make it to the penguins, Denji stands there with his face shoved up against the glass for no shorter than twenty minutes. 

“I want to hold one,” he says.

Power nods, “We can manage that.”

“ No, ” Aki says firmly, and is immediately ignored. Denji and Power whisper back and forth, pointing at various penguins. “You are not going to break into the penguin room.”

Angel kind of wants to go see the jellyfish in the next room. “Can we keep going?”

“Hang on.” Aki huddles in behind Denji and Power, leaning down to say, “You know, I saw a sign in the last room saying that you could touch the fish.”

There was no sign. In fact, this aquarium doesn’t have any touch tanks whatsoever. It works, though. Denji and Power turn to look at each other almost in slow motion, grins splitting their faces. Power starts tugging on Denji’s arm, dragging him back toward the supposed fish. 

“I guess that’s one way to get rid of them,” Angel tells Aki. “Aren’t you worried they’ll get kicked out?”

“They have their Public Safety badges on them, they won’t get arrested,” Aki says. “We get a little time by ourselves, and they’ll be waiting outside when we’re done. Power was getting tired, anyway.”

“Wasn’t this supposed to be Denji’s aquarium trip?”

Aki points at the penguins. “He was standing there for a half hour. Mission accomplished. You told me to take you on a date.”

Angel feels his face warm. “I did say that.”

“So come on,” Aki holds out a hand. “There’s a whole thing of jellyfish in the next room.”

It’s dark in the jellyfish room. There’s more than just jellyfish in the tank, but they are clearly the main attraction. It goes up to the ceiling and down to the floor and the room is lit blue and watery. They aren’t the only people there. There’s a couple on the other side of the room, holding hands and bumping shoulders, heads ducked and giggling together.

Aki’s hand squeezes Angel’s, some sign of shared despair, maybe an apology for the fact that they can’t do any of that, or maybe just because. 

“I can’t remember the last time I went to the beach,” Aki says. “But I’m pretty sure it was with Himeno, so I imagine that’s because I was drunk.”

Angel likes that image– Aki stumbling around in the sand. It’s a case of after-work drinks gone wrong, he’s still in his work clothes with his sleeves rolled up, chasing after Himeno before she does something especially stupid. Maybe he trips and drops his drink. He’s holding Himeno’s shoes for her, and there’s a lipstick print on his cheek from when she’d thanked him for it. His face is flushed red and his tie is hanging loose around his neck. If Angel were there, he’d wrap it up in his hand and pull. 

“I don’t think you would like it,” Angel shrugs. “Too salty and sandy for you. It gets in my feathers.”

“I thought you told Power you’d never been?”

Huh? Oh, right. Yeah. He did tell Power that. Angel’s never been swimming. He’s never been to the beach.

“I haven’t,” Angel says. “But, you know. It probably would.”

Aki hums his agreement. 

The girl across the room laughs loudly. Her hair bounces in its ponytail and her boyfriend wraps his arm around her waist. He whispers something in her ear and she laughs again, tugging him in to kiss. She’s wearing a t-shirt and when their arms brush nothing happens. Nobody dies. No one drops lifeless onto the floor. Neither of them even pause. Angel hates them. 

Angel watches the jellyfish. He focuses on the weight of Aki’s hand in his, because there’s nothing else for him to focus on. The sign in front of the tank says something about moon jellyfish, Aurelia aurita. They’re sort of funny-looking, but Angel likes watching them swim. It looks like they move almost by accident. He wonders if Denji and Power have gotten in trouble yet. 

“Angel,” Aki says. 

“Hm?” Angel turns his head, and Aki puts his hands on the sides of his face. For a second, Angel thinks he’s about to try and kiss him again– like Angel needs another heart attack– but Aki’s thumbs go over his lips before they meet, like they’re actors on a stage. 

It’s objectively a lame kiss, but they’re on a date, staring at jellyfish, and the blue lighting makes Aki look especially handsome, so Angel thinks he doesn’t particularly mind.  

“What was that for?” Angel asks.

“You were moping.” Aki smiles, just barely. 

Angel lifts his nose. “Was not.”

“You were,” Aki says. “And, anyway, what kind of date is it if you don’t kiss at the end?”

Angel rocks on his heels. “Are we going back?”

“They’ve definitely gotten kicked out by now. We should get out there before they decide to leave without us and inevitably get lost.”

But Aki doesn’t move. He stays there, looking down at Angel with a soft, almost smile on his face. Forget about the girl and her boyfriend, Angel thinks he could stand here in front of the jellyfish for the rest of his life. He doesn’t know if it’s the angel or devil in him that wants to gently pry apart Aki’s ribs and climb inside, nestle in next to his heart, but he can feel how badly he wants to in his lungs. 

Aki nearly-kisses him again. And then again. 

“Okay,” Angel says, glancing over Aki’s shoulder. “We should actually go.”

The couple is still standing close together, pointing at fish in the tank and laughing, and Angel finds that he hates them a little less than he did before.

_____

“We’re going to get in trouble eventually,” Angel says. 

“We haven’t yet, don’t sound so sure.”

He’s right, of course. Public Safety is pretty hands-off when it comes to workplace relationships, but there has to be a line somewhere. Aki wishes he had a cigarette. Someone pushes past his shoulder, some businessman on his way back from lunch. They’re working, just on patrol duty, which in reality means they’re on an ice cream tour of Tokyo.

“Kishibe still hasn’t said anything to you?” Angel asks, like maybe he is actually kind of worried about it. Not worried enough to keep him from licking his ice cream. 

“Not since he told me to be careful,” Aki says. “And that was when you first moved in.”

“We weren’t– you know,” Angel waves one hand in the air, a vague gesture generally devoid of meaning, but Aki thinks he catches on. “When I first moved in.”

“From his perspective, I don’t think much has changed.”

Angel hums noncommittally. “There has to be a rule somewhere, that’s all.”

“That I’m breaking or that you’re breaking?”

“You’re the one that can actually lose his job.”

Aki supposes that’s fair enough. It’s been a slow week. Most of their shifts have been like this. Angel complains about everything, Aki follows him around and nods along. They go back to the apartment and do the same thing but in more comfortable clothes. It’s a nice routine.

“What about Makima?” Angel asks. 

Aki looks down at him, caught a bit off guard. “What about her?”

“Has she said anything since you signed the paperwork?”

Angel is staring ahead very carefully, like maybe he isn’t sure he should be bringing it up. Aki doesn’t know why the question makes him feel uneasy. “No. Not really. Why?”

“I don’t know,” Angel says. “Seems like something she’d ask about.”

It does, actually, now that Angel mentions it. But she hasn’t. She’s mostly been asking after Denji. 

“Weird,” Aki shrugs. He wants to change the subject. “Anyway, Power’s been begging me for takeout this week. We can grab some once our shift ends.”

Angel takes a bite of his ice cream and holds up his free hand, a sign that Aki is learning to realize is his cue. Aki grabs it with his own. Angel doesn’t smile, but he looks happier anyway. 

_____

Denji is in the kitchen when Angel walks in. He’s wrestling with a plate on the counter and muttering something, and Angel ignores him in favor of opening the fridge. He’s meant to be grabbing drinks. 

Suddenly Denji huffs, slamming the plate back down. “Dude, we’re out of that stupid fuckin’ plast–”

“Not Aki,” Angel cuts him off. 

“Oh,” Denji says. 

Angel tucks two cans under his arm and pulls open the freezer. The box of ice cream bars is half empty. Angel holds it out toward Denji and shakes it. “You want one?”

Denji rolls his eyes, but reaches a hand out and snatches a bar out of the box. He tears open the wrapper with his teeth and takes an angry bite out of his ice cream. Or maybe it’s a normal bite. Angel can never tell with him. 

“Aki keeps telling me to put the leftovers away, apparently I don’t do it right.”

Angel takes another ice cream bar from the box and then sets it back in the fridge. “Okay.”

“Tell him I tried, but I can’t ‘cause we’re out of that plastic wrap shit. The box, like, disappeared.”

Angel snorts, backing out of the kitchen. “He knows.”

_____

Aki wants to move his shoulder, and he would, if it weren’t for Power’s head leaning on it. They’re sitting on a bench waiting outside of the grocery store for Denji to finish in the restroom. Power’s chattering away about something, but Aki would be lying if he said he was fully following the conversation she’s having with herself an inch from his ear. 

“See, I’d contract someone to do my share of the chores,” Power says, hand waving in the air. “It would give me even more time to dedicate to becoming president of the entire world–”

“You’re still on that, huh?” Aki asks. “What would they get out of it?”

Power sticks a finger straight up, pointing at the sky. “Unimportant! Humans are so simple-minded, the true extent of my power would remain a mystery.”

“You wouldn’t want this guy to give you his blood or something?” He’s not really sure what the rules are. Devils seem to ask for the most random things– who knows if Power even knows how it works. “Figures you’d strike a shit deal on purpose.”

“I’ve got plenty!” she sniffs. “Manipulating humans is in my nature, I cannot help it. The rules are whatever I want them to be.”

“Alright, then.”

Denji emerges from the grocery store, looking a little dazed. “I thought you guys were going to wait for me!”

Power stands up and drops her chin on Denji’s shoulder. It’s almost like her natural position now. It’s hard to believe she wasn’t always there to drape herself on Denji and complain about everything constantly and loudly. “You were taking far too long.”

“She wanted to sit down,” Aki says, but he’s not listening. Something’s itching in the back of his head, not quite an idea, yet, but it’s getting there. Maybe Power doesn’t know what she’s talking about– it certainly wouldn’t be the first time– but maybe she does. If the Devil gets to decide the contract, then can’t they trade whatever they want?

The Future Devil asked for something weird, Aki supposes. He would know by now if Angel had any contracts, wouldn’t he? Asking for more time feels selfish, even though he’s sure Angel would give it to him if he could. There has to be something Aki can give him that would work for a contract, right? If it meant Angel’s powers didn’t work on him–

“Dude, are you coming?” Denji calls, a few feet ahead on the sidewalk. They started walking without him. 

Aki stands up. “Yeah, yeah. Hang on.”

He’ll keep thinking about it.

_____

“I left it in my room,” Angel says, stretched out on Aki’s bed. He has one leg hitched up and resting over Aki’s, blinking slowly enough that if Aki didn’t know better, he would think he was actually half-asleep.

“What’s wrong with the shirt you’re wearing right now?” Aki asks, humoring him.

“It’s not yours,” Angel says, looking up through his fringe. It’s obviously some ploy to try and get Aki to do whatever he wants, and Aki thinks that the worst part about it is that it basically works every single time. “It’s just on the floor, it’ll take two seconds.”

“Fine.” With great effort, Aki manages to get to his feet and into the hallway. Aki hasn’t actually been in Angel’s room very much, and when he opens the door he’s shocked to find it’s even emptier than he remembers it. 

The comforter is missing from the bed, and most of the clothes are gone from the floor. There are two shirts in the corner, which actually both belong to Aki, now that he’s looking. He picks up both of them, just to be safe. The stack of books is shorter, and when Aki thinks about it, he supposes most of them have moved to his dresser in the past few weeks. The fake plant is still in its place, mostly the same aside from a fine layer of dust. 

Aki feels strangely awkward standing in the middle of it all. One of the pillows is gone because it’s in his room. The comforter, the clothes, the books– it’s all in his room. Aki wonders, nonsensically, if the room is mad at him for emptying it out. His face feels warm.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, not actually feeling all that bad about it, and grabs the remaining pillow to tuck under his arm.

Maybe this way Angel will stop stealing his in the middle of the night. 

_____

Aki groans as soon as the door shuts behind him. “Just once I want to have dinner without Power spilling something on someone. Last time it was Denji, before that it was the cat, before that it was me again–”

“You keep giving her things to spill,” Angel points out, jumping up to sit on the bed. The entire front of Aki’s shirt is stained with the contents of Power’s ramen. Most of the actual food fell off while he yelled at her, and then sat grumpily while everyone else finished eating.

Aki gives Angel an unimpressed look. “I don’t think the solution is to stop feeding her.”

Angel shrugs. “Your loss.” 

“I’m just saying, why can’t she ever spill something on herself?” Aki reaches up to grab the back of his shirt collar and tug it over his head. It drops into a pathetic, wet heap on the floor. Angel stares at his back, crisscrossed with scars of various sizes. Angel’s seen most of them by now. He knows which ones are from Devil hunting and which ones are from drunk shenanigans on the way home from work with Himeno. Angel wants to touch him.

“She’s incapable of doing anything that would require her to shower more often than she already does,” he says instead.

“That might be it.”

“Might be?” Angel feigns offense. “I’m always right.”

“Mm, sure,” Aki says, smiling slightly. He wanders over like he’s going to pull Angel to his feet, but Angel just grabs his hand and holds it. Angel looks it over, the chipped black nail polish courtesy of Denji and the semi-permanent scabs on his knuckles. Aki keeps talking. “Denji’s only a bit better, honestly– he’d be as bad as her if he wasn’t obsessed with eating literally everything on his plate.”

Angel wants to take his gloves off. “At least he bathes.”

“Angel,” Aki says, and Angel looks up. Aki’s got a funny look on his face, one that Angel has mostly learned means he’s thinking about doing something he shouldn’t. 

“Get dressed,” Angel says, squeezing Aki’s fingers quickly before he drops his hand. Aki looks disappointed, just for a second, and then his expression flashes back to contentment. Maybe even just plain happy. Angel can see the invisible lightbulb over his head. Aki turns around, halfheartedly digging through drawers for a shirt. Angel can’t see his face.

“You know, I’ve been thinking about it,” Aki says, and he’s trying to sound careful. It doesn’t work. His voice gives him away– he sounds too excited, triumphant, like he’s about to pull a trump card out of his pocket and secure them the win. “Can’t I just make a contract with you?”

“What.” 

Angel didn’t hear that right. That can’t be what Aki said. There’s no way.

“There has to be some way around it.” Aki scoops a different, cleaner shirt off of the floor and pulls it on. Angel would normally be more disappointed, but all he can think about right now is how stupid of an idea that is. “It could be an actual contract, I guess, but you get to make the rules, don’t you? Just pick something easy–”

“I’m not making a contract with you.”

Aki pauses, just for a half-second. He wasn’t expecting Angel to say no. Of course he wasn’t. But it’s a terrible idea. It feels like the air has been sucked out of the room.

“Why?”

The thing is that Angel doesn’t know how to explain. 

He doesn’t even know why it bothers him, really. Everyone who has ever touched him died or got closer, but he knows that, he’s been careful. He may have taken a couple months from Aki, but he’s never killed anyone he didn’t want to. But it feels like he has. Contracts or not, it’s always going to feel like Aki’s about to drop dead in front of him, hand in Angel’s, and he just doesn’t know why–

There’s that dream. The one with the waves. His dreams are filled with dead people, and the awful part is that some of them he doesn’t even recognize, even though he knows he should. They aren’t anyone, but every time he closes his eyes they’re there. Aki’s not even dead and Angel’s dreaming about him. 

“I– look, if you don’t want to, that’s fine,” and Aki says it in a tone of voice that implies that it’s not. It really isn’t fine. “But I want you to tell me why.”

Angel shouldn’t tell him. Maybe if he doesn’t, Aki will decide that’s enough. If you can’t even be honest about this, he’ll say, and then send Angel back to Public Safety. He’ll fill out the request for a new partner and then Angel won’t ever see him again except for glimpses of his head leaving Makima’s office. 

It’s stupid. Aki won’t do any of that. It’s an awful fantasy, where neither of them is happy but at least Aki is alive. Of course it’s not real, Aki wouldn’t know self-preservation if it leaned down and sucked the life out of him through his mouth. Instead, Aki will sigh and say, okay, Angel, go outside and smoke half of a pack, and then come back an hour later and do the dishes. Angel takes a deep breath. 

“I had this dream,” he says. 

Aki turns around then. He’s moving slowly like he’s worried he’ll scare Angel off. When Angel doesn’t say anything else, he sits down on the bed. “Okay.”

“You’re there. We’re by the ocean, I think.” Angel hates this. He wants Aki far, far away from him, out of danger. He wants Aki on top of him. He can’t have either. “There’s someone else, I don’t know who– I can’t hear anything. It’s just quiet.”

“Weird,” Aki allows. 

“You’re talking, though.” He remembers the look on Aki’s face, determined and a little frenzied. Angel can only stand there. There’s nothing for him to do. He knows, somehow, that whatever Aki is agreeing to is bad. Even just thinking about it makes his skin crawl, and it’s stupid because he doesn’t even know. “I can’t tell what you’re saying, but I– you look scared, I don’t know. It felt like you were selling your soul.”

Understanding dawns on Aki’s face. “Oh.”

“There’s nothing else to it, I know it makes me sound crazy. You’re just doing something dangerous and I can’t stop you, and sometimes it feels like it’s always going to be that way. No matter what I do– I can’t fix it, or make it any better, it’s awful. You’re always going to be ready to die and I’m always going to be terrified that one day I won’t be able to stop you, and after it happens, then what?” 

It all comes out in a rush. Angel wants to get up and shatter the mirror across the room, or tear open the pillows on the bed and cover them both in feathers, or grab Aki by the front of his shirt and smash their lips together, too hard and with too many teeth, just to get it over with. He doesn’t do any of that. 

“You don’t sound crazy,” Aki says.

“Don’t lie to me,” Angel snaps.

“Okay, fine.” Aki flops over onto his back. “You only sound a little crazy. And hypocritical.”

Angel should’ve expected that last bit, honestly, but he doesn’t want to talk about it right now. It’s not the same. Angel will go to Hell and come back again eventually, but if Aki dies that’s it.

“But I’m not going to make a contract with you.”

“Do your dreams tell the future or something?”

No, they don’t. “No.”

Aki doesn’t have his gloves on, but he grabs Angel’s wrist through his sleeve. He doesn’t squeeze or hold particularly tight. Angel refuses to appreciate the gesture. “Then it was just a bad dream.”

“I don’t care,” Angel says. That’s not the point. “The dream might not be real, but I’m right.”

“I think that, in your mind, I’m more suicidal than I actually am,” Aki comments. 

Angel doesn’t dignify that with a response. “I don’t know what to do.”

Aki’s hold on Angel’s wrist tightens then. There’s a beat, and then another, and Angel wants to go back to before he said anything. 

“Me neither.”

And then they’re back in the same place. Square one. 

All of the secondhand smoke must finally be getting to him because Angel’s fingers twitch for a cigarette. Can Devils even get addicted to things like that? They must be able. Angel thinks he could’ve gone his entire turn on earth the way he was if it weren’t for Hayakawa Aki and his terrible, perfect apartment. He would’ve stayed bored and he would’ve waited for something to kill him, and he wouldn’t have been upset when it happened.

“I’m going to go outside,” Angel says quietly. He doesn’t tell Aki to follow him, mostly because he’s sure Aki will eventually, but also partially because Angel doesn’t know if he wants him to. On his way out, he grabs Aki’s cigarettes. 

_____

Aki spends a polite, excruciating thirteen and a half minutes staring up at his ceiling before going after Angel. 

He doesn’t know what the right answer is. He’s pretty sure Angel doesn’t, either. Angel took the cigarettes, which Aki thinks is strange. It’s probably a bad sign. Maybe. Everything feels like a bad sign, lately. 

He stops at the door just long enough to decide he wants his gloves and turns around to grab them. 

“Smoking rots your bones,” Aki says, for lack of anything else, and Angel holds out his cigarette. Aki takes a long, long drag, like maybe if he holds it in his mouth for enough time he’ll be able to taste Angel’s lips on the end of it.

“Why did you start, then?”

They’re avoiding the topic. “Himeno did it.”

Angel hums– a nonanswer. He’s looking out over the street. He didn’t even turn his head when Aki came outside. Aki wonders how long they’re going to stand out here. He would probably be willing to do it forever. When Aki rests his arms on the railing, Angel moves over an inch so he can loop an elbow through Aki’s. 

“Can you do me a favor?” Angel asks, tone flat.

Aki tilts his head. “Depends on the favor.”

From where he is he can just see the end of Angel’s nose, the outline of his cheeks. His hair flutters the slightest bit, either from the breeze or his eyelashes catching on his fringe when he blinks. Angel’s elbow is sharp against his side, thin and pointy. Delicate isn’t the right word, really– light, fine. Like a bird. Aki wants to kiss him, but that’s old news. 

“I want you to quit your job at Public Safety,” Angel says. “I want you to get on a train and move back to Hokkaido. Get an office job you hate. Find a nice girl and marry her. Maybe her parents will think you’re moving too fast, but I think she’d let you. You’re handsome like that.”

Aki pauses with the cigarette in his fingers. Angel sounds so far away, like he’s lost in the image. Aki doesn’t like it, everything about the idea feels wrong, and he wants to shake Angel by the shoulders to snap him out of it. He can see it, too. 

He has a strained smile in the wedding photos. He’ll duck behind the venue to smoke halfway through the reception, and everyone will kindly ignore the fact that none of his family is there. His father-in-law will hand him a drink, and then another, and Aki will get quietly, steadily drunk off to the side, leaning against a wall. His mother-in-law will judge him for it.

He’ll become one of the miserable salarymen on the train every night with a pretty wife to come home to,  and the other men at the office will jostle his shoulders and ask him how he managed to score a girl with such nice red hair. She’s smart and a little mean, but he doesn’t tell her everything– he can’t– and when she notices she’ll pull away, snap at him for keeping secrets. 

He’ll want a cat but they won’t get one, they never get around to it. They have awkward, mediocre sex exactly five times, and Aki won’t notice when she stops kissing him goodbye in the mornings. She mentions kids once, and Aki looks so confused by the very idea that she doesn’t bring it up again.

“Die doing something mundane for me.” Angel’s tone of voice is the same. He might as well be talking about the weather, or a movie he saw just the other day. “Die in the middle of a grocery store, or in your cubicle before work ends. They’ll call up your wife and she’ll meet you in the hospital but there won’t be anything they can do. She’ll be sad, she’ll move back in with her parents, and she might even get mad at you for widowing her so soon.”

“You’re fucking morbid, Angel,” Aki says, but there isn’t any bite to it. The cigarette goes out between his teeth. He watches it fall over the edge of the railing.

Angel doesn’t miss a beat. “She’ll move on, though. You won’t ruin her life. They’ll put you with your family and she’ll go visit every few months and it’ll be normal. It’ll be horribly boring. All of it.”

There’s a second where no one says anything. Angel tugs another cigarette out of the pack. Aki stares at the city, the lights in the windows. Every one of them has people inside. There’s people walking home in the street below them. The trains go by, filled with a bunch of strangers who are never going to see each other again when their stop comes up. Any one of them could die at any time, and they wouldn’t even be able to see it coming. They wouldn’t be able to stop it. Maybe they wouldn’t want to.

“I’m not going to do any of that,” Aki says. 

“I know,” Angel says lightly, and puts the cigarette between Aki’s lips, an indirect kiss. “You’re too stubborn.”

“I don’t need it to be normal.”

“You have to stop yourself from kissing me at least once a week.” It isn’t an accusation, there’s no judgment. It just is. “You deserve something boring. Utterly uninteresting. Just a completely typical human romance. A totally non-tragic ending.”

Aki swallows. “I want to kiss you because I’m in love with you. I feel like we’ve covered this. I don’t want a boring human romance because then it wouldn’t be with you.”

Angel smiles. It’s so slight that Aki has to double-check to make sure it’s real. Then gloved hands are on the back of his neck and pulling him down. It’s an awkward angle, but Angel kisses the side of Aki’s head by his temple, lightly enough that none of his hair moves. 

“You’re sweet,” he says.

“I’m not,” Aki replies. He straightens and pulls Angel against his chest. It’s not really a hug until Angel grabs his own hand behind Aki’s back. 

“Not usually,” Angel agrees. “But you can be.”

Aki puts out the cigarette on the railing. “Do you want to go to bed?”

It’s not very late. Dinner wasn’t very long ago. It’s too early to sleep, but Aki is suddenly so tired. Angel turns his face against Aki’s shirt and breathes in slowly, and then shrugs. “Sure.”

They move slowly. Angel goes to brush his teeth while Aki checks on Denji and Power. None of it feels real, somehow, like maybe Aki’s dreaming right now. He’s still in the doorway begging Denji to be the slightest bit quieter when Angel appears at his side. 

“You’re actually going to bed?” Denji asks, incredulous. Power is not paying attention, busy entertaining the cat. “Dude, it’s like, barely nine.”

Aki shrugs. “We’re tired.”

Denji stares at him for another long moment. Aki can see the exact moment he decides he doesn’t actually care very much. “‘m not gonna make promises I can’t keep, or whatever.”

“Good enough,” Aki says. “Night.” Denji’s already turned back around to whatever he’d been doing before, but he waves over his shoulder. They go to bed.

_____

Neither of them are sleeping. 

Angel doesn’t think it’s been very long, necessarily, but it feels like he’s been staring at the ceiling for hours. Aki is awake, too. He’s thinking about something. At this rate, they won’t fall asleep, period.  

Aki’s breathing is steady, but too fast. He’s not even trying to sleep. Angel counts on every inhale, just for something to do. Not for the first time, Angel wants to open up Aki’s chest and climb inside, curl around his heart, feel it beating. He wants to be there to make sure it never stops, wrap his hands around it and kickstart it beating again, suck the air down into Aki’s lungs when he can’t do it himself. 

 He’s thinking about something, Angel can tell. At this rate, they won’t fall asleep, period. They have work tomorrow. 

“What is it?” Angel whispers, but it still somehow sounds too loud. He sits up, knee resting against Aki’s shoulder. 

“I’m not a tragedy,” Aki says. 

Angel wasn’t sure what he expected Aki to say, but it wasn’t that. “Did someone say you were?”

“You did, sort of.”

Did he? Something about a tragic ending, but that’s not the same thing. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I know you didn’t,” Aki assures. “But, I don’t know. I’m going to die young. I don’t want that to be it.”

Angel sees the irony in it– wanting Aki to stop talking about dying. Angel had done plenty of it earlier, like it was some sort of comfort, and maybe it had been then, but he doesn’t like hearing it from Aki’s mouth.

“I don’t get it.”

Aki lifts a hand up and rubs at his eye. “It’s hard to explain. I don’t want my entire life to be summed up by how I go out.”

Angel idly runs his hand through Aki’s hair. The glove is still on, but it doesn’t feel important right now. 

“I don’t want it to be summed up by how I die, or by the Gun Devil, or all the other shitty things that have ever happened to me,” Aki says. “I don’t think it has to be just one thing, and if it does, I want it to be something good.” 

“Okay,” Angel says, prompting him to go on. The room is dark and warm, it feels like the ceiling is only just above them, but it’s not claustrophobic. It’s like the two of them are the only things in the entire world. 

“Getting married to some girl six months before I go out wouldn’t fix it, because then you would just find a way to be miserable about it anyway. Maybe I want it to be something else. Like the aquarium, or Denji and Power moving in, or giving you that tissue, or the stupid fucking plastic wrap.”

Aki lifts his head up and drops it back on Angel’s lap. His hands come up to grab Angel’s face and pull him down, just a bit. Those big blue eyes are almost too close, like if Angel wanted to he could go swimming in them and listen to the waves. 

“Maybe I want it to be right now,” Aki says, and Angel wants more than anything to lean down and kiss him. “This. Right now. If my entire life has to amount to one second or minute or whatever– I want it to be this one.”

Angel opens his mouth without even thinking. “I’m in love with you, too.”

Aki blinks. 

Angel can’t believe he hasn’t said it before. It felt so simple and obvious, like maybe saying it out loud would be a waste of time, but how could it be, if it makes Aki look like that? He should’ve been saying it the whole time. He should’ve said it when Aki asked him to move in. He should have said it when Aki ordered him around the first time they met– he might not have meant it then, but he would’ve spent more time saying it than not. He would’ve meant it eventually. 

“You’ve said it before, and I don’t think I ever said it to you– I guess I thought it was obvious. But I am.”

Aki sits up suddenly, almost knocking their heads together. His hand shoots out toward the side table, and Angel wants to laugh when he realizes Aki is fumbling for the plastic wrap. 

There’s some rustling while Aki tries to tear some off, and then he turns back to hold a piece up against Angel’s face. Angel ends up in Aki’s lap again. Aki pulls him closer, one hand around his waist, and even in some magical, sideways world where Angel wanted to get away, he couldn’t. There’s nothing else for him to do or worry about– just Aki leaning in and plastic over his nose and his hands in Aki’s hair. 

It feels like it should be slow, some movie cliche where they have all the time in the world and then some, but they don’t, so instead it’s rushed, almost frantic. Aki’s hands are caught halfway between Angel’s jaw and his neck, and Angel can just feel the heat of his hands through the gloves. It’s not perfect, but it’s close enough, and Angel winds an arm around Aki’s shoulders. Aki is warm, and Angel wants to bite his tongue, or his lip, just enough to make him bleed– Aki would let him, Angel can almost guarantee– but that’s begging for trouble, a rip in the plastic, so instead he kisses harder. 

Angel pulls away, just enough to breathe, and Aki chases after him, mouthing along his jaw. On instinct, Angel’s hand flies up to the back of Aki’s head to hold him there.  He’s making all sorts of noises he’s going to be embarrassed about later, when Aki’s smoking and Angel can actually think, but right now it doesn’t even cross his mind. It feels like his face is on fire.

Angel grabs Aki by the jaw and brings him back, lifting the plastic wrap enough to let him catch his breath. 

“I changed my mind,” Angel says, “if you marry some random girl–”

Aki snorts. “She’s not even real and you’re jealous. You told me to do it.”

“And now I’m telling you not to,” Angel says, and then he covers Aki’s mouth again and goes back for more, pulling at Aki’s hair a little harder than he needs to, not that Aki seems to mind. There’s a hand inching up the side of his shirt and another fisted in the front of it, and Angel thinks that if he isn’t careful he’ll end up doing this forever. 

“I love you,” Aki says, and Angel wants the plastic gone, he wants Aki to say it straight into his mouth. 

Angel doesn’t miss his cue this time. “Yeah, you too.”

_____

Aki wakes up with Denji three inches from his nose. 

“Jesus Christ,” he gasps, sitting up, headbutting Denji in the process. 

“Ow!” Denji exclaims, rubbing at his nose. “Fuck was that for?”

“What do you want?” Aki glances around. The sun is up, he probably slept in again, and Angel’s gone, but it doesn’t worry him. “How many times have I told you not to do that?”

Denji crosses his arms and sticks his chin in the air. “I’m hungry. Power’s hungry, too, actually, but she’s waiting for Angel to get out of the bathroom– Oh, hey, is that where the plastic wrap went?”

Sure enough, the box is where he left it on the side table. 

“Why’s it in here?” Denji asks, and then his nose scrunches up and he looks back at Aki like he’s never seen anything so disappointing in his entire life. “Dude, even I know you can just, like, buy condoms– you don’t need to make them yourself, no wonder you’ve never had a girl–” and before he can finish his sentence Aki hits him hard over the head with a pillow.

“Oh!” Power says, suddenly appearing in the doorway, talking way too loud, “Are we playing hit Denji?” 

“No–” Aki tries, but it’s too late, she’s already racing across the room to grab another pillow. He drops back onto the bed, groaning– it can’t even be very early but it’s still too much for the time of day. 

Denji wrenches the pillow out of Aki’s hands and starts defending himself, and if he’s not careful they’re going to tear one open on Power’s horns. Aki covers his eyes with his hands. As annoying as it is, at least they aren’t actually hitting each other. Somewhere the cat meows and the bathroom door closes. 

There’s a ripping noise, and when Aki peeks between his fingers, there are feathers raining down, and half of a pillow in Denji’s hands. 

“For fuck’s sake,” Aki says, and Denji grins, not looking all that sorry, and says, “Oops.”

Power drops her half of the pillow and dives for Denji’s middle, the cat bats feathers in midair, dangerously close to being stepped on, and Angel opens the door, eyes wide, and deadpans, “Oh. Wow.”

He sidesteps the tangle of elbows and knees that is Denji and Power to climb onto the bed and sit next to Aki. His hair is still kind of a mess and he smells like the cigarettes from the night before. There’s the slightest shadow of a bruise on the underside of Angel’s jaw, and Aki wonders if that’s maybe his fault. 

“I was gone for ten minutes,” Angel says, scratching at the blanket in an attempt to get Nyako to jump on the bed. “This might be some kind of record for them.”

“We’re lucky we have the day off.”

That makes Denji and Power freeze. Power is practically wrapped around Denji’s torso, one arm pulling on his neck, but Denji doesn’t look bothered– preoccupied with prying her other hand off of his shoulder. Both of them look up with matching expressions of excitement. 

“We have the day off?”

“Did you think I was sleeping in on accident?”

Power looks like she pities him. “Yes.”

“Angel would have woken me up,” Aki says. 

Angel doesn’t look up from his attempts to lure the cat closer. “No. I wouldn’t have.”

“Thanks,” Aki says, rolling his eyes. 

The phone starts ringing in the other room, and before he can say anything else, Denji and Power run each other over racing to go pick it up. There are feathers everywhere, and now they need a new pillow, and Aki was already going to have to do the dishes from last night, and the laundry, and very quickly his day off becomes a day he has to spend running errands and doing chores–

“Is that your plant?” Aki asks without meaning to. It’s on top of the dresser, still looking kind of dusty, and the stack of books looks a little taller, too. 

Angel turns his head. “What? Oh, yeah. Didn’t see the point of leaving anything in my room since I’ve basically moved in here.”

It’s so stupidly simple. It’s just a cheap, fake plant that Aki’s pretty sure came standard with Angel’s room at Public Safety. There’s no reason that seeing it on his dresser should make his chest feel tight, or make him want to say something disgustingly sappy, but it does anyway. 

“Do you mind?” Angel asks, head tilted. 

“No,” Aki says, maybe too fast. “It’s fine. I like it.”

Angel actually smiles. He puts a gloved hand over Aki’s mouth and leans in to kiss the back of it. 

“Good,” he says. 

“Gross!” Power yells, standing at the door and curling into herself, like it’s truly the most upsetting thing she’s ever seen. “Denji, they’re being gross!” Denji doesn’t really look like he cares, some weird, dazzled look on his face.

“Who was on the phone?” 

Denji sighs almost dreamily. “Ms. Makima.”

“Makima what?” Aki prompts. 

Power slumps her shoulders. “She says we have to go to work.”

Aki sighs. He’s been awake for fifteen, chaotic minutes. The list of things to do in his head is only getting longer and longer, and now somehow he has to convince Denji and Power (and Angel too, if he’s being honest) to get ready for work and get on the train before noon, and then work an entire shift. He just wants one morning of peace, but that’s too much to ask, apparently– 

Angel nudges his shoulder. He’s still smiling, but it’s subtler than before. It’s just for Aki. His mouth barely moves but his eyes squint slightly, and Aki wants him to do it forever. He’s sitting in their bed, wearing Aki’s clothes, and he’s going to spend their entire shift sighing and complaining with his hand tucked in Aki’s, and he’s going to do it for as long as he possibly can. 

“Duty calls,” Angel says, like it’s some private joke for just the two of them. Maybe it is. Angel’s always ten steps ahead. 

Suddenly, things don’t seem so bad after all.