|The Flawed and Wingless
Author: Seraindipity PM
YAOI! An angel falls without knowing why, a demon boy grows up, and the boundaries and ideals of heaven and hell? Are changed forever.Rated: Fiction M - English - Romance/Fantasy - Chapters: 2 - Words: 2,650 - Reviews: 6 - Favs: 2 - Follows: 1 - Updated: 06-13-06 - Published: 06-05-06 - id: 2186964
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
« Yeah, so, here's a towel, a hairbrush, the soap is there, and… uh , I've already run the bath. I put bubbles in. I hope you like bubbles. I love bubble baths. » Onid had the general idea he was blathering nervously, but he honestly couldn't stop.
This… Illiande was taller than him by at least half a foot, and outweighed him by a good sixty pounds. And that was sixty pounds of muscle. On top of that, he'd said maybe two words in the past two hours. And that was creepy enough. Not to mention the fact that he'd been crying all the way back to Zeke's apartment.
« So, um, yeah. See ya, call me if you need anything. » He shuffled out of the room, reluctant to take his eyes off of the nude glowing form.
He'd just leave him be. Let him go on his own. Trust in the angel's ability to adapt… After all, that was what life was all about, anyways, right ? Adapting ?
Less than ten minutes later he was poking his head in again.
The light where turned off, which was strange, because how could Illiande know how to do that ? He didn't know anything. He was fresh, barely weaned. His glowing form was the only light in the bathroom. His hair hung down and played, floating, on the surface of the water, creating strange ripples.
The angel was humming. Not very well, as they were punctuated by deep sobs, but he was humming all the same.
The soap, towel, and hairbrush were left untouched on the counter.
« Hey. » Onid whispered hoarsely.
The head drifted up so slowly Onid was certain the angel must have already known he was there.
« You okay ? » Onid asked.
Illiande's brow furrowed confusedly.
« Uhm, I mean… » Onid cleared his throat, feeling uncomfortable beneath that long, sorrowful gaze. « Are you… alright ? »
Without looking away from Onid, Illiande's white fingers drifted up, shaking, to touch one of the strange tears on his cheeks. Slowly, his gaze drifted down to the tear. His brow furrowed further, then he looked back up at Onid.
The demon couldn't help but laugh. He advanced closer, « Here, lemme help you. »
He grabbed the hairbrush off the counter, placing a foot in the water on either side of the angel, and crouching on the edge of the bathtub. He grabbed a handful of the angel's black locks and began brushing out the long hair.
With time, the tears ceased, and the sobs as well. The angel's eyes drifted closed, and his breathing slowed. A small sound rumbled in his chest, like a tiger purring. It slowed and softened with time as well.
« Hey, hey ! » Onid snapped his fingers next to the angel's ear, « Don't fall asleep on me ! I'm in no way strong enough to lift you out of here. »
The angel's eyes drifted open, and he gave a little smile.
Onid was tempted to smile too, but. Remembering his situation, he looked away, splitting the thick hair into three parts and deftly braiding it. Even twisted into it's long whip of black, it went down to his tailbone.
The next hour was spent drying and clothing Illiande, bandaging his wings, and then, finally, getting him into bed and asleep.
Hesitant as to his next course of action, Onid simply sat by the window and stared.
Looking out onto the street below, he caught sight of a man in a black coat, striding steadily to the front doors of the apartment building.
He knew that man, the gleam of auburn hair and the assured stride were unforgettable.
« Fuck ! »
He stood up with a start, and as he bolted towards the front door he could already hear the clatter of footsteps on the iron stairway leading to his floor.
He'd had a great deal more time to lock the door than Azriel had had to enter the building, climb the stairs, and shove open the front door, breaking the lock and chain along with it – but Azriel was a spectacular being, after all. And much older.
Onid was flung back at least five feet with his entrance.
His gaze slowly scanned up the knee-high leather, the slashed up jeans, the tight fishnet t-shirt, pierced nipple and tattoed biceps, the spiked dog-collar clamped tightly around his neck, and then, finally, to rest on a face much like his own.
The same, narrow, pixie-like sharpness, rosebud lips, high cheek bones and thick waves of Auburn hair. These eyes were wide expressive, and heavily lashed in a unique black-red echo of their hair colours. The only difference ?
This was a man, not a boy, taller and wih broader-shoulders (although that wasn't saying much). And the eyes were an icy lime and grey. Mostly grey, but the green in them was so bright that they appeared in that colour.
« Hey, there, little brother. » his voice was also a lot softer and less smooth. « How has your first day on earth been ? »
Onid didn't answer. He was too busy grinding the heel of his right hand into his heart, to stop the painful pounding that threatened to force tears out of him.
« Mmmm, pardon me for calling so late, but I've been busy. After all, without his favourite little demon to please him. Lucifer has had to call upon me. And, if I may say so, I am a truly lovely fuck. »
« So long as you keep your mouth shut ! » Onid snapped in response. Then immediately, rolled out of the way and onto his feet to avoid thew flying kick his brother had attempted to deliver.
He was all anger, no jokes now. « Oh, you think you're funny, do you ? » but a smile slowly melted back onto his face, hi one became pleasant and honey sweet, « I'd advise you to shut the fuck up. Lucifer's bed equates power. And, if you haven't noticed, I happen to be in that bed. »
« By getting me kicked from hell. » Onid growled.
« Well, now, that's a very crude way of putting it. I prefer calling it… revealing you other side. » Azriel's soft, cultured raspy voice returned and never wavered.
« Whatever helps you sleep at night, Azriel. » The pain in his heart threatened to make him cry out. But he would never cry for this. Never give his brother the satisfaction of tearing up over heartbreak. « We both know how fond you are of twisting the truth, and lying through your teeth. »
« One more snide remark, little brother, and I'll be forced to hack up that pretty little throat of yours… And then you wouldn't even be able to sing. And then, even if you ever got back into hell, Lucifer would never take you. »
« I'd still have my body. » Onid challenged.
« Cheap fuck. » Azriel replied, grinning demonishly. « He probably wouldn't even remember your name. That would be the only reason he ever wanted you more than me, you were small and naive, and you screamed like a siren. »
« Better a Siren than a Banshee. » Onid countered, and was rewarded with a blinding blow to the face. Lying on the ground, trying to catch his bearings, he couldn't have possibly shielded himself from the hard kick his brother delivered to his gut.
« You shut the fuck up about my voice you two bit slut ! » Azriel's eyes gleamed with pleasure, and his lips tilted up into a smile when a drop of blood, trickled from beneath his brother's pretty head.
« It's true. » Onid whispered. « The only reason I'm here is because Lucifer loved me more. I was small and fiery. Better than a cheap fuck. And even when I screamed his name, it still sounded like music. And because you are tone deaf and you screech instead of crying out, you meant nothing. »
And it was the truth. Azriel had never been able to face the truth that Onid, his little brother, was named Lucifer's Beloved. He escorted the King to all of his functions, a pretty thing on his arm.
And it had burned him that it was Onid whispering sweet nothings in the Lord's ear ; Onid instead of him. Instead of the eldest, the best… As their parents had always taught them. Onid had been nothing before he'd chanced into the ingleid lines. Then he'd barely had to work to get lucy-fucked.
He'd was the youngest and longest entitled Lucifer's Beloved.
He was seventeen now.
Had it really been four years ?
So Azriel got his revenge.
One infraction, a lie here, a lie there, some dark, shoddy dealings.
And his brother was down for the count.
Because the truth of it was that Onid would never, ever get back into hell.
(A/N) – the ingleid lines are the line of boys picked up out of anywhere that Lucifer chooses from to add to his harem every two years. I hope you liked this chapter. I actually took the time to go over it, so it should be significantly cleaner and less choppy than usual.