Chapter 6

The incubus sauntered out onto the balcony of the high-rise apartment, stretching lazily and admiring the moon. Behind him on the satin-draped bed, a stunningly beautiful young woman lay as if sleeping peacefully. Only a close look would reveal the stillness of her chest, the lack of a pulse trembling the delicate skin of her throat.

He chuckled and sighed, sated. This victim had been especially passionate, a bundle of repressed sexual energy that was like ambrosia to his special senses. Despite her physical beauty, she had been cursed with a terrible stutter, and so had never been appreciated by the males of her species.

"Their loss," he murmured, licking his lips. Abruptly he became aware of the presence of another celestial nearby, watching him. A moment's thought gave him the location - the roof of the building across from him. Shedding his mortal form, he spread his wings and jumped off the balcony, gliding through the air to dive down on the lower roof.

He landed perfectly, wings flipping neatly back to rest against his spine. Glancing around, he saw the watcher. "You again!"

The angel was leaning against the wall of the stairwell, regarding him with a confused expression on his face. His silver-blond hair fluttered about him in the night breeze, and his piercing blue eyes fairly glowed in the moonlight. "Why do you keep following me?" the demon demanded of him in irritation.

"I don't know," the seraph replied, sounding puzzled. "I can't stop thinking about you, and I want to know why."

The incubus rolled his eyes. "Maybe you're losing your immunity," he suggested snidely. "Sounds like the kind of obsession I engender in mortals to me. Been in danger of Falling lately?"

The angel shook his head, not responding to the taunts. He shifted, and his wings flared slightly, gleaming with reflected starlight. They had first encountered each other in one of the minor skirmishes always happening between Heaven and Hell, several years previously. Against a seraph an incubus had no chance, and they'd both known it. Amazingly, the seraph had let him live, on the condition that he swore not to participate in any battles against the Hosts for at least a century. He'd made him swear it on his immortal spirit, too - an oath not even a demon could break with impunity.

Since then, every so often the demon would become aware of a watcher, and turn to find the seraph gazing at him thoughtfully from a distance. This was the first time they'd spoken since the battle, and the incubus was determined to get some answers.

"I haven't broken my word," he muttered sourly. "And I won't! I have no desire to be forsworn, not on that oath." He shivered - oathbreakers of that magnitude were given Verrier, the devil of disobedience, for punishment. "So stop following me around!"

"That's not why I'm doing it," the angel told him. "I told you, I can't stop thinking about you. It's driving me crazy."

"You're driving me crazy," the demon retorted. "Go away and leave me alone!" He turned to leave, and was astonished to feel his arm grabbed.

"Wait!" the angel cried, and they both stared at each other. Slowly the demon looked down at the hand on his bare arm, then back up at the angel. Everyone knew that it was physically painful for a demon and an angel to touch - their opposite natures made them repulsive to one another.

He felt no pain, only the usual shiver of pleasure that he got from physical contact. "Why... why doesn't it hurt?" he asked the angel in confusion.

"I don't know," the seraph said again, hesitantly reaching out with his other hand to capture the demon's free hand. They stood there awkwardly, staring into each other's eyes dazedly. "It sounds insane, but... I think I'm falling in love with you," the angel whispered in an anguished voice.

The demon's eyes widened to comical proportions. "You're Falling for something, but it's not love!" he told him seriously. "Love is a gift from God," and he spat the word as if it were an epithet, "and everyone knows demons can't love, so why would He make you fall in love with ME?"

"I don't know," the seraph repeated, unable to find any other answer. "In all my centuries I've loved many souls, mortal and angel, but never like this. It's like a burn in my veins - I can't work, can't rest, can't do anything but think of you! You're a demon of lust, tell me how do I get rid of it?"

The demon chuckled at the thought that he was giving sex advice to an angel. "You either ignore it, or get it out of your system," he told him bluntly. "I didn't think angels suffered from lust - I thought your love was always pure and above such base matters."

The angel rolled his eyes. "Baby angels have to come from somewhere, don't they?" he replied with asperity. "We may not be as vulgar about it as you or the mortals, but it happens." He sighed, and tightened his hands on the incubus' fingers. The demon drew in a breath at the thrill the contact gave him, feeling his powers gathering to swirl around him. A mortal would have been panting at his feet by now, driven to madness from the lust induced by the pheromones he was emitting; but of course the angel was immune.

"So, what are you going to do?" he asked breathlessly, curious. Surely the angel wouldn't actually choose to sleep with him!

"Wh-what do you mean by, 'get it out of your system'?" the angel queried hesitantly, surprising the demon yet again.

He shrugged. "Most of the time having sex with the object of your fascination will take the glamour off the idea," he said indifferently. "At least, it does for demons and mortals. I imagine it would work the same way for an angel. But, angel..." he smiled and purred seductively. "Be warned. I'm very, very good at what I do. Not many people want to leave when I'm through with them."

The angel sighed, seeming defeated. "I must be crazy," he muttered to himself, not so quietly that the incubus couldn't hear him. The little demon was astonished to find himself drawn into the taller seraph's arms, wrapped about with the great white wings. It was like being buried in a nest of feathers, warm and spicy smelling. "Show me what I have to do, so I can get back to my life again!" the angel pleaded desperately.

The incubus licked his lips, and considered it. Technically, sleeping with an angel wasn't against the rules - it wasn't a rule that had needed to be made, frankly. Of course association with an angel was forbidden... unless it led to the angel Falling... which this almost certainly would. He gave an evil little chuckle, and started stroking his hands up the angel's back, burying his fingers in the mound of feathers at the base of his wings. He smiled as the angel moaned at the contact, and leaned up to kiss him hungrily.

"Just follow my lead, angel," he whispered as he pulled away, already feeling the lust pounding through his system. "I'll show you a whole new way to get to Heaven."

Omi heard the knock on the door, but he decided not to answer it. If his friends had managed to find him, he didn't want them to know he was in here - and if it was staff or management, he just plain didn't care. He'd spent the entire night just running, starting at shadows and scaring himself silly every time a dog barked or person cried out. Finally around eight this morning, he staggered up to a run down hotel and checked himself in, grateful for Weiss' policy of carrying some cash with them whenever they went on a mission in case they had to hole up just as he was doing now.

He heard the knock again, and dragged his head off the pillow long enough to look at the clock. Noon. He'd had a little less than four hours sleep, and he still didn't want to talk to whoever was out there. He let his head flop down again, pulling the blanket up over his ears and hoping they'd take the hint.

The next thing he heard was an odd little click, and the door swung open. Irritated and tired enough that he wasn't planning to be polite to whatever staff member had disturbed him, he sat up with a glare.

Nagi stared back at him impassively, looking cool and fresh in his trademark grey uniform. "Schu told me you'd be here," he said evenly.

Omi yawned, and sighed. He couldn't run - he had nowhere to go, and even if he managed to get by Nagi, he'd stand out like a sore thumb dressed in nothing but a t-shirt and boxers. "Why?" was all he asked, tiredly.

Nagi moved forward and let the door fall shut behind him. "Whatever those things are, they're after the two of us," he said seriously. "Crawford keeps insisting that I'll be fine as long as I'm not hanging around you, but I'm not sure I believe him."

Omi blinked at him. "Wouldn't he know?" he asked, curious. Nagi shrugged.

"Schuldich says Brad is starting to lose it. Losing his visions, then getting hit with dozens of them all at once..." he trailed off and sighed. "It's starting to affect all of us," he admitted, sinking down to sit at the foot of the bed. "Schu's going mental, trying to keep himself in one piece with everyone's mind in a ten mile radius pounding down on him. Crawford doesn't know whether he's operating in the present or the future half the time, and I'm wearing myself to a splinter trying to keep from blowing the apartment up."

The telekinetic did indeed look exhausted, even worse than Omi felt. He slid over to make room on the double bed, and Nagi looked at him in surprise. He shrugged and patted the spot beside him, and the younger boy crawled gratefully under the covers to lie beside him. "What's happening to you guys, anyway?" Omi asked, unable to resist.

Nagi shrugged again. "It has something to do with the failed summoning, that's all I know. Crawford said something about gates being opened that weren't properly closed, that are messing with all sorts of different stuff, including psychic abilities. Half the time it's like we're normal people, and the other half we're out of control. I'm lucky - at least I don't have anything affecting my mind, just my body."

Omi thought about what it would be like to be a powerful telepath with no control over what he heard, and shivered. "That still doesn't explain what you're doing here," he pointed out.

Nagi was silent for a moment, picking at a loose thread on the plain cotton sheets. "I don't want them to go after Crawford and Schuldich," he finally admitted. "They're the closest thing I've ever had to a family. They'll do something stupid to try to protect me, and get themselves killed."

Omi gave him a searching look. "It's weird to think of somebody caring about them that way," he admitted.

Nagi gave a half-smile. "We're a dysfunctional family, but we're still a family," he replied fondly. "There are days when I could happily kill them both, but... they saved me, took me out of the gutter and trained me to use my powers so I wouldn't kill myself with them. Sure, they did it because I'd be useful to them - but in their own way, they both care about me too. We're all that we have in the world."

They were silent for a while, as Omi thought that over. It was exactly how he felt about Weiss, but it was strange to think that the relationships in Schwartz were as close as those in his own team. "Why did you come to me, though? You could have gone anywhere to get away from them."

"Because they're after you, too. It doesn't make sense to give them two easy targets, when we could be watching each other's backs. And... because I was worried about you," Nagi admitted shyly. He reached out and caught the hand that Omi had lying between them on the sheets, and twined his fingers around it. Omi returned the grasp, feeling a sort of glowing warmth in the pit of his stomach.

"Nagi, I..."

"Omi, I..."

They spoke at the same moment, almost on the same breath. Then they giggled, the sound more a release of tension than anything else, until they were shaking the bed they were laughing so hard. They collapsed into each other's arms as the last of the spasms faded away, holding each other tightly.

Omi revelled in the feel of the other boy against him, the clean soapy scent of him in his nose. He could hear Nagi's heart beating, see his pulse in his throat from where he had his head on his shoulder. It was comforting, soothing, and more than a little arousing.

He'd heard about the reaction people sometimes had to a near-death experience - the biological urge to reconfirm life in the most basic way possible. He'd even felt a stirring of it, once or twice after a particularly gruelling mission when he would have given anything to be able to just jump one of his teammates and screw the hell out of him. Now, here, it seemed perfectly natural for him to press his mouth to that pulse, tasting the soft skin beneath his lips and making the other boy gasp.

"Omi..." Nagi's voice was soft and full of wonder as he stroked the older boy's head. "I... I think I'm falling in love with you," he confided in a whisper. "You make me feel like... like I'm worth something. Like I could take on the whole world and win. Like... like I don't have to be so angry anymore."

"Oh, Nagi..." Omi breathed over his skin, making him shiver. "I've never felt anything like this before in my life. I want... I want to share everything with you, always. I think I love you too."

They kissed shyly, hesitantly. It had none of the driving passion that their first kiss had contained, but was slow and gentle and soft, full of affection. Their twined hands separated, arms wrapping around each other in a loving embrace.

"I... I'm not a virgin," Nagi confessed, blushing and looking away as they drew apart for air. "Not anywhere near it. I lived on the streets until I was twelve, and..."

"Shh," Omi soothed him, placing gentle fingers over his lips. "I know. You think I don't realize what would happen to someone as pretty as you, living on the streets?"

Nagi blinked at him. "You... you're not disgusted?"

Omi shook his head firmly. "No. Absolutely not. It's not your fault, you had no choice. It doesn't make you dirty, or a slut, or anything else like that. That's just what they tell you, to beat you down so that you don't fight them harder." He ran his fingers through Nagi's soft dark hair, delighting in the texture. "I don't care about what you did in your past, only what you're doing now."

"What about what I'm doing now, in Schwartz?" Nagi wanted to know, returning the gesture. Omi practically purred at the feeling of his thin fingers against his scalp.

"I won't say that I'm happy that we're enemies," Omi admitted breathlessly. "I still don't like what you do. But I'm willing to try to work around it... koi," he added shyly.

Nagi kissed him again, a stronger kiss this time. There was no mistaking the intent behind it, and Omi reciprocated happily. Their lips parted and tongues tangled, and they edged closer together on the bed.

Omi spared a thought for the last time he'd been in this position, afraid that it might happen again. He couldn't stand to disappoint Nagi like that, didn't want to lead him on and then get cold feet on him. But there was none of the hesitation that had been present with Ken, none of the reservations that created a tight little spot in his chest. It felt... perfect, like something that he'd been missing had returned to him, making him whole.

They spent several long minutes just kissing passionately, running their hands through each other's hair and drinking in each other's presence. Omi suddenly felt underdressed, and decided to fix the problem by coaxing Nagi out of some of his clothing.

It didn't take much coaxing - when his fingers fumbled at the unfamiliar clasps of the tunic, Nagi reached down to help him. Under the tunic was a plain cotton t-shirt - that also came off, Nagi lifting his shoulders and letting go of Omi just long enough to get it off him. They stopped there for the moment, content to explore what they had available to them.

Omi traced his fingers lightly across Nagi's pale chest, marvelling at how thin his lover was. "You need to eat more," he said absently, and shivered as one of Nagi's own questing fingers found his nipple.

Nagi snorted. "Crawford already stuffs me to bursting, don't you start," he complained mildly. "I was malnourished as a child, and my powers use up a lot of energy; I'm never going to be very big." He started to tug Omi's t-shirt up, and Omi resisted the movement for a moment. Nagi looked at him, surprised. "What's wrong?"

Omi flushed, embarrassed. "I... when the Hellhound attacked me, it did a lot of damage..."

Nagi gave him an understanding look, and slowly peeled the shirt off him. Even he couldn't keep a completely straight face at the sight of the acid-like scars, but he traced them with a gentle finger, making Omi shiver. "They're not so bad," Nagi whispered, smiling encouragingly at him. "The fact that you managed to live through an attack by one of those things is amazing. Don't ever hide because of these."

Omi blushed harder, and kissed him impulsively. That restored the mood, and they went back to exploring each other happily. He bent his head to lick and nibble along Nagi's collarbone, and found that he loved the way the younger boy moaned beneath him. Experimentally he wet one small pink nipple with his tongue and then blew across it; Nagi squirmed and gasped and ran his hands down Omi's back.

He arched into the touch, tingles of electricity skittering along his skin wherever Nagi touched him. He was subconsciously aware of a feeling of deja vu, and somehow he knew exactly where to touch to evoke the best response. Nagi retaliated in kind, seeking and seeming to find every hot spot on Omi's body.

Their embrace grew more frantic, bodies responding to the stimulus in a predictable teenage fashion. Nagi stroked his hands down Omi's sides to his hips, and glanced up for permission. Omi nodded breathlessly, his own fingers busy at the fastening of Nagi's pants.

They stripped quickly, anxious to be completely naked against one another. The moment they met skin to skin was marked by another jolt of that strange power that had first drawn them together all those months ago. They kissed passionately, engaging in a little impromptu contest to see who could make the other moan loudest.

Finally Nagi drew away a little, tossing sweat-soaked bangs out of his dark blue eyes. "Take me," he begged, breathless with desire. "Omi, please, I need you in me. Take me!"

"Demo, we don't have anything..." Omi hesitated, not wanting to hurt his beautiful little lover. Nagi shook his head.

"I don't care. Just stretch me first, it won't hurt much. Please!"

If there was anyone on earth who could ignore such a plea, it certainly wasn't Omi. He held two of his fingers before Nagi's lips, and the younger boy sucked them in eagerly. When they were well moistened, Omi drew them downwards, leaving a little glistening trail of wetness on Nagi's chest. He teased gently at the tip of the telekinetic's erection, picking up more moisture from the pearly little drops there, before dipping down further.

His questing finger found the tight little ring of muscle, circling gently. Nagi made a frustrated noise and thrust his hips up, seeking to impale himself. Omi obliged, slipping his finger inside and finding that as long as he went slowly, it wasn't so difficult after all.

Nagi certainly showed no signs of being in pain; he was squirming about on the bed, but only in an effort to get Omi's finger deeper into him. "More," he pleaded, and Omi carefully inserted a second finger.

Now Nagi did wince, but only momentarily. "If you stop, I swear I'll throw you through the wall," he threatened when it looked like Omi might pull back in concern. Chuckling, the older boy gently moved his fingers around, scissoring them to stretch the tight opening.

The third finger was much harder, and Nagi couldn't suppress his cry of pain entirely. Omi decided that the best solution would be to distract his lover; he leaned down and gently drew Nagi's length into his mouth, still working his fingers back and forth slowly.

His Popsicle obsession finally paid off; he licked and sucked and nibbled like a pro. Nagi was crying out, thrusting his hips up until Omi had to lay his bad arm over the boy's waist and hold him down. By the time his fingers were moving in and out easily, Omi found that he didn't want to stop, so entrancing were Nagi's cries.

Finally he lifted his head, when Nagi's choked exclamations told him the younger assassin was getting close to the edge. Grinning wickedly, he licked his lips and laughed when Nagi cursed him for stopping.

"I think I just found something I like having in my mouth even more than Popsicles," he whispered naughtily in his lover's ear. Nagi shivered, and arched against him.

Omi guided himself in with his good hand, before bracing himself and pressing forward. Nagi cried out hoarsely at the invasion, begging him helplessly not to stop. Omi had no intention of it; it felt much too good to stop, so tight and hot around him.

Their pelvises met, Omi in as far as he could go, and they lay there for a moment, panting. Omi wanted to give his lover a chance to adjust, and give himself a chance to collect the shreds of his self-control. He didn't want this to be over too soon!

At last he started moving, setting up a slow rhythm that quickly drove them both wild. Nagi was clawing at his back, trying to make him go faster, and Omi just bared his teeth in a feral grin.

"Not... yet..." he gasped, loving the look of frustrated bliss on Nagi's face. He sped the pace just a little, just enough that they could feel it.

"More..." Nagi moaned, rocking his hips up to meet each thrust. "Omi, more..."

Omi was in Heaven, but his bad arm was trembling and threatening to give out on him. "Ugh... I can't... hold myself up..." he panted, and collapsed down onto Nagi's chest. From that position it was much harder to thrust, and the smaller boy whined in frustration.

Gathering his lover into his arms, Omi rolled until Nagi was on top. They both cried out as Nagi sat up, the new position driving him even further into the boy's body. Nagi began to rock back and forth, with Omi steadying him with hands on his hips and thrusting up to meet him.

Omi looked up at the beautiful creature riding him, and couldn't believe this was truly happening to him. His muscles tensed, and he could feel the end coming; not wanting to leave Nagi adrift, he freed his good hand to clasp gently around his straining erection. That was all it took - Nagi shouted once and exploded, jets of sticky white rapidly coating his shaft and Omi's hand. His inner muscles clamped down hard, tightening his passage even further. Omi managed two more short thrusts before he was lost as well, his seed shooting up to fill his lover to overflowing.

Nagi collapsed down onto him, and they both felt the shock of that strange electricity once more. This time it swept over them so forcefully that they nearly blacked out, and Omi gasped for air. He felt Nagi clutching at him frantically, trying to keep hold of him in the whirlwind of sensation that was threatening to tear them to pieces. The last thing he saw before the darkness claimed him was a swirl of startlingly white feathers sweeping past his vision.

|Part 1| |Part 2| |Part 3| |Part 4| |Part 5| |Part 6| |Part 7| |Part 8| |Part 9| |Epilogue|

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