+MAIN+ PROFILE+ STORY+ ALBUM+ HUNTED+ ANGEL+ SHOPPE+ LINKS+

S T O R Y
Angel Hunt and Streifen in Roleplay

+ Alternate Universe 02 +

The Faculty Years

C H A P T E R O N E : P A R T 08


Sashi: Rain pours down mere inches from the opened balcony doors of the Dark’s apartment, the assault of the clouds above just as cold and steady now as it had been in the morning. Cigarette smoke swirls above the head of the blanket wrapped Warden seated just inside the doors, gray eyes fixed on the small city beyond, the metal and glass of the surrounding buildings highlighted with streaks of water tinted with smears of color. There’s something strangely beautiful about a city drenched beneath a layer of water, the way it skews the sight just a little, softening the edges of humanity’s hard steel constructions.

Pulling the smoldering stick to his lips, he takes another drag, flicking the ashes into a small, empty ceramic dish resting on the larger planter box nearest the doors. The exhaled smoke dissipates amongst the small garden arranged on the balcony, most of the plants imports from Nova. It’s a hobby he didn’t really intend, but had actually adopted when Zeph lugged over a set of potted herbs and asked to put them on Sashi’s balcony because it received more light throughout the day. He’d come to enjoy caring for the small, fragile plants, and the garden had evolved from there. Now the planters and pots hold everything from flowering bushes to miniature trees, arranged so that during the principle seasons of spring, summer, and fall, there is always a burst of color and scents that remind him of home. Strange that he misses such things when he hates Nova so much, and strange, too, that his little garden with its unique plants and smells can take just the edge off the loneliness that haunts him.

The approaching presence of the Bright pulls the telepath’s attention toward the hallway outside his apartment. With a sigh, he readies himself for a knock or a greeting, but none come, and instead Lan remains for only a moment before making his way toward the end of the building where he resides. Odd… did the other man change his mind? He hadn’t seen Lan all day, not even in the conservatory during lunch, not since the white-haired Selestarri had promised repayment for the morning’s teleport. Maybe he’d decided not to bother at the last moment, maybe he was finally beginning to understand what Sashi had been trying to say all week about the impossibility of a friendship between them. Or perhaps…

Leaving the cigarette perched on the ceramic dish, the Dark rises from his chair to cross the room, the locking wards parting with the merest flick of his wrist and the door opening on silent hinges. On the floor rests a small package, wrapped in paper somehow untouched by the deluge pouring down outside. So there had been repayment afterall, Lan simply chose not to present it in person. For the briefest of moments Sashi is torn over the other man’s choice, on one hand that’s what he wants, because they aren’t friends, so these little encounters aren’t necessary, but on the other, he finds himself a little hurt that the Bright didn’t even attempt to speak with him. It must just be the loneliness, though, trying to creep in on him, and he pushes the thoughts away as the door softly closes and he sets the package on the counter.

The aroma of coffee hits his nose as he pulls the paper open, fresh and strong and untainted by cream, sugar, or honey. Beside the take-out cup is a bowl of soup and two soft rolls, all still warmed by the faint traces of Lan’s elemental magic. Sashi stares down at the small meal for a long moment before gathering it on a tray and making his way back to his chair by the balcony. Arranging his blankets against the cold, he settles the tray in his lap and pulls the lid from the bowl of soup, the pungent smell of strong, spicy chili hitting his nose immediately. Coffee, just as he likes it and food just as spicy as he likes it. A hot meal to chase away the cold he always feels so acutely. He doesn’t know how Lan knows what his preferences are, but the younger Selestarri has hit the mark with this simple repayment.

Spreading out telepathic senses, he separates Lan’s signature from all the others in the building, crossing the span of their floor with an accuracy no other of their race can manage. His words are simple and softly given. [Thank you…]

Lan: Seated by the cold fireplace of his apartment, the lanky Bright’s head is cast downward, his yellow eyes scanning the thick textbook before him that rests on a paper strewn small coffee table that serves as his desk while a newly lit cigarette is cupped in-between his long fingers, the smell of the smoke permeating the immediate surrounding air.

He’s had just enough time to enter his home, cast his coat and shoes off and begin his studies by the time Sashi’s telepathic words reach him and the quiet thank you pulls a small smile to his lips. Slipping his summer colored gaze away from his book, he lifts his head and shifts it towards the patio doors, watching the rain beat down against the glass for a few moments in silence before he slides the smoldering stick he holds up to his mouth. If he’d been permitted, he’d have walked Sashi home and kept him dry, and he’d have offered to thoroughly warm his apartment as well, but he didn’t think he should push his presence further this soon and so he settled with leaving the Warden soup and coffee instead. It’s nice to know it was accepted, and is currently being enjoyed.

Inhaling the smoke deep into his lungs, he smiles again to himself before exhaling and even though he’s unsure that the other man will hear him in return due to his own limited telepathic range, he offers a warm and simple reply. [As always Sashi… it’s my pleasure and no thanks is necessary at all.]

Jun: it’s well past time for even the stray human to be out by the time the white haired Angel pulls his car up to the complex, a small screech breaking the nighttime silence as he hits the brakes a little too hard and ends up hopping the curb. The door swings open and he somehow manages to pull his toned frame out of the vehicle, the world spinning as he straightens in a way that nearly sends him toppling right back down in his seat. Untangling himself completely he reaches back to slam the door behind him, and taking fluid yet unsteady steps forward, he begins what will prove to be a long trip towards the main door.

He smells of smoke and alcohol, but for once he doesn’t care. In fact, he snorts to himself as he reaches the wide stairwell, aside from the fact that the valet or doorman, or whoever it is that’s normally here to take his car to the apartment’s covered parking is gone, he’s actually feeling perfectly fine. He did exactly what he’d planned to do after work, he found a bar and drank, then another bar, and then another and he thinks maybe a club because there was music and he might have danced a bit, though he can’t quite remember, but he drank there too, and he drank and he continued to drink until the conversation he’d had with Zephyr stopped bothering him, and then he drank some more until he found he could care less whether or not he was found out and it was only the fact that all of the places closed on him that he stopped drinking and finally came home.

Driving was an adventure that he can no longer recall and now his biggest obstacle is clearing these ridiculous stairs so he can get into his apartment where he’s hoping he somehow had a momentary lapse of judgment while sober and decide to stock more alcohol so he can finish the night off by drinking until he passes out. And somehow he does manage to clear them, just as he manages with great difficulty to get his keys into the main door’s lock to gain entrance into the dark hallways beyond. Every step he takes as he continues towards his apartment is half stumbled, half graceful and amazingly even despite his drunken stupor, near silent as he moves down the hall…

Zephyr: Rain continues in a heavy patter across the bedroom windows, matching in rhythm to a heartbeat finally returning to something of a more normal pace. Midnight eyes closed, the taller Dark nuzzles his nose into strands of pitch black and he presses a kiss against the short strands near the base of his best friend’s neck. He always forgets just how riled up a challenging project can make Innic, although he’d had two very satisfying reminders tonight, with the bruises to prove it. The other man has already fallen asleep, his breathing even and steady, and his skin warm where it rests against the blonde’s chest. Long arms wrapped tight around Innic, Zeph pulls him in close, happy to enjoy a comfort the two of them have shared since they were small. The nights that he does spend alone, either when Innic is on Nova or they’re too busy or otherwise preoccupied, he’s always a little lonely, so with the rain falling hard outside and the late autumn chill creeping in, he’s more than happy to warm his best friend’s bed tonight.

They’d spent the evening hours discussing Zeph’s proposed research project, focusing on gathering intel that’s already been collected and planning ways to gain further information. His network of informants is vast, the result of years spent attempting to undermine the Seeker, and the webs he maintains reach from Nova to the Eyrie to Earth, some in plain sight and others so well hidden that only Innic and his brother know of their existence. The Angels haven’t been shy about making their presence known on Earth, not in overt ways of course because it would terrify the humans, but once one is aware of what to look for, it becomes much easier to spot them. So the immediate plan is to quietly squirrel away whatever facts can be gathered, and if that doesn’t give him the insight to their culture and society that he desires, there are several not as quiet ways to gain that information, too.

Several of the things Jun has said to him over the past few days have peaked his interest, enough so that when the Angel became visibly upset this afternoon, it spurred Zeph into action. If Jun really is the soft person he catches glimpses of every now and then, why does he have to hide it away? Why is he so bent on maintaining his orders and why does he repeat them like a mechanical toy when pressed? Why does he seem so scared to let anyone care for him in even the slightest ways? Hell, why does he seem so scared to even talk to him in a way that’s not strictly formal and work-related? Zeph’s own race, both the Bright and the Dark, can be harsh and cruel, they can be driven by their ideals, their history, and sometimes even their insanity in ways that can very easily manifest in violence. They are trained to fight and kill and to accept that doing so is a part of their culture. There is order and rules and traditions to be followed, but they’re allowed to be themselves, even within those restrictions. They’re encouraged to master their strengths and either downplay or compensate for their weaknesses or be manipulated and exploited by them. From what he’s seen and heard of the Angels, they’re expected to be militaristic white-clad asshole clones of one another, perfect and cold in all ways. They don’t seem to accept differences, and it makes him wonder if Jun has been on the receiving end of that displeasure given how vehemently he’s spoken about breaking orders or being permitted to have luxuries. It makes him interested, but he’ll be very careful as they conduct their research to make sure that nothing can come back on Jun and cause him any harm.

Pulling Innic just a little closer, Zeph lets his thoughts drift and sink toward sleep, ready after a long day to gain some rest before rising to begin the task of contacting those throughout his networks. He’s almost completely into the fuzzy void when his senses catch a very specific magical signature entering the building and slowly making its way to the third floor. It seems very late for Jun to be getting in, usually the other man is closed up in his apartment at a decent hour unless that other Angel happens to be around. Also, there seems to be something off about his signature, something skewed, and he’s not sure if it means the Jun is injured or sick, or what, but it’s enough to pull the blonde away from the hazy beginnings of sleep in order to check it out. He slowly and carefully eases away from Innic with a last kiss to the back of his best friend’s neck and slips from beneath the blankets, tucking them in around the other Dark’s slender frame. Locating his pants just outside the doorway to the bedroom and his tee and sweatshirt on the back of the sofa and the floor by the fireplace respectively, the tall Selestarri pads barefoot through the darkness toward the door to the hallway.

The lock eases free with barely any sound, and Zephyr pokes his head into the corridor just enough to see a back he’s rather familiar with given how many times it’s been turned on him over the last year. Jun is two doors down the hall, close to his own apartment, and it only takes a moment for him to gain the answer to his question about the other man’s condition once the smell hits him. The Angel is completely shitfaced. Cigarettes, sweat, and strong alcohol roll over the blonde in a wave just as Jun loses his swaying, but still in tact gracefulness and stumbles hard. The teleport moves the Dark from the doorway to the white-haired man’s side in a heartbeat, his arms darting out to catch instinctively just before contact with the floor is made. Pink, slightly bleary eyes meet midnight from only a few inches away, and Zeph can’t help but to softly smile. [Had a good night out, huh?]

Jun: it feels as if it’s taking forever to reach his apartment as the white haired Angel stumbles down the hall, but eventually his door comes within sight and in his determination to reach it he picks up his pace just enough to send him toppling forward before he can catch his footing. The corridor spins and he has no time to actually brace for the inevitable impact as he finds himself falling forward, his attempt to throw his arm out towards the wall to catch himself misjudged completely. But before his body can impact, he finds himself caught and it takes him a moment to realize in all the confusion that instead of the floor, the blonde is the one supporting him now.

[Iss fine-] he answers automatically only to cut his words short a second later, his voice falling to a rather loud sort of whisper. “Shi…” Jun attempts to pull away but finds that he’s secured in place by the steady hold the taller man maintains. “I’m not ‘sposed to talk to you” slipping a long finger up and pushing it against his lips, he makes a very low and quiet hushing sound before bursting out in a soft laughter that takes the blonde a little by surprise.

[I won’t tell anyones.] His expression straightens into an inebriated version of seriousness in an instant, [itd’ll it be our secrets.] Nodding more to himself than to Zephyr, he attempts to straighten out again. The moment he’s upright and tries to take a step forward however, he sways dangerously and with another smile given, the Selestarri simply reaches out to catch him before he begins walking the Angel down the last stretch of hall.

When they reach his door, he slips his hand into his pocket and after a moment, he somehow manages to work the keys free before he slides them forward and shoves them forcibly at the lock. Furrowing his brows when he misses it completely, he tries again only to fail once more and in a moment of frustration he’s about to jam them at the door another time when Zephyr instead swipes them from his fingers, slips them into the lock and finally unlatches the door.

Pushing the heavy wood barrier open, he walks them both into the darkened apartment before sliding a bare foot back to push the door closed behind them and just as he gets them a step past the threshold, Jun suddenly pushes himself away only to offer a slightly incensed ‘I can walk just fine by myself’. Stumbling towards the couch through the darkness and with the only light to guide him being the moonlight that shines in through the glass patio doors, he slips his jacket off as he goes and allows it to fall onto the floor while behind him, Zephyr follows close enough to catch him should he fall again, but far enough away not to stand too near.

“They can’t hears me when I’m in here so I can talks…” The Angel snorts and reaching the couch, he twists his body fluidly around and practically flops onto its plush surface, his long slightly tangled white locks spilling over the carved wooden back and partially around his neck and chest. Except he notes, Taz, since his handler seem to have an ability to hear him no matter how quiet he’s speaking or how many lengths in which he attempts to hide it, but at this particular moment he can’t really bring himself to care.

“Hey… you thirsty?” Jun asks as blurry pink eyes glance up, suddenly looking genuinely concerned about the Dark’s comfort and sliding an arm up he waves unsteadily towards the kitchen and the fridge. “I dunno what the hells I have in there but you can havess it if you wants… but iff you founds some alcohol, you can brings that to me please.”

Zephyr: He can’t help the smile of amusement at this completely unseen side of the Angel. Always so formal and stiff, so cold and off-putting, so efficiently poised, and now this stumbling, word slurring, blurry-eyed, alcohol drenched version is so entertaining that it’s almost a Jekyll and Hyde scenario. It’s kind of adorable, truth be told.

Scooping the discarded leather jacket from the floor, Zeph neatly drapes it across the back of the nearest chair before obligingly turning toward the kitchen. He takes moment as he goes to study the apartment, somehow completely unsurprised to find the same color scheme so prevalent in every other aspect of the other man’s life. Everything is white. Literally everything, from the furniture to the rugs, to the walls, to the stones set before the fireplace to the whitewashed wooden floors. It’s like a snowball threw up in here. Silver is the color of choice for anything metal, gleaming as if it gets polished on a daily basis. The whole place is also excessively neat. He thought Sashi was picky about tidiness, and his brother’s apartment could easily pass any white glove inspection, but in here it’s like dust doesn’t even think about encroaching. Not one iota of it, nor any crumb, stray thread, piece of hair, nothing. Even the faint lettering of the wards lining each of the walls is white, glowing just slightly when he concentrates on the magic, unreadable, but pricking his magical senses enough for him to catch it. White on white on white. This apartment might be where color comes to die.

A nearly empty refrigerator greets him as he pulls the door open, the shelves bare with the exception of a single take-out container, a bottle of some pink juice he’s guessing is grapefruit, and a glass carafe of water. Selecting the water, Zeph turns toward the cabinets opening a few to find one completely empty and another with a set of white dishware meticulously stacked before locating the glasses. Unsurprisingly, they’re crystal, causing the blonde to shake his head a little in amusement as he selects two and fills them with water. Returning the carafe to the fridge, he carries the glasses to the sofa Jun continues to be draped across and sets them on the high gloss, heavily carved coffee table.

Pink eyes reopen as the Dark seats himself in a plush chair opposite, his bare toes digging into the thick textured throw rug. “Not alcohol,” he tells the other man, gesturing toward the glasses, “but I think you’re ready for last call anyway.” From the smell, Jun was likely ready for last call hours ago. The Angel looks prepared to protest, but a sudden glimpse of a tangle in his long white hair distracts him, and he works on straightening it instead, partially freeing the snag and partially making it much worse.

Midnight eyes slide up the length of Jun’s body, taking in the tight, leather pants that leave very little to his imagination, and even if they didn’t, he can certainly get an idea of the Angel’s toned body from the cropped shirt that leaves every curve of muscle under the flawless pale skin of his midsection exposed. It’s not a bad view, and he’s not at all complaining, but Jun was definitely looking for some fun tonight going out dressed like this. “Bar or club?” Zeph asks after a moment, “Or both?”

Jun: with his hand still entangled in white locks, pink eyes slide over when Zephyr asks him of his night and with a small sigh given out of frustration, he gives up trying to work the knot free and simply sits back against his seat.

“I did all threes.” He smirks and finally pulling his fingers from his hair, he reaches back to brace himself in order to push his body up. It takes far longer than it should to actually accomplish however and seems about a hundred times more difficult than it normally is, but somehow he manages to straighten just far enough for him to curl his body over and swipe one of the glasses from the table. The sudden motion causes the liquid to splash out across the coffee table’s marbled surface but he doesn’t seem to immediately notice, instead he simply brings the water up towards his mouth. Throwing his head back, he downs the contents as if he expects it to be a drink before straightening and finding it not what he expected, he offers the glass a displeased and rather hard frown.

“Maybee boths,” the Angel continues and reaching over again he practically tosses the crystal down, paying it no mind whatsoever as it falls sideways with a small cling that resonates out upon impact as he slumps back against the plush cushions behind. Miraculously, the glass doesn’t shatter or even crack, instead the crystal simply rolling until it’s stopped by the Dark’s glass that rests nearby. “I can’t remembered it actually.” Jun shrugs and lifting a long leg up, he sets his boot against the table’s edge in a way that causes the crystal to vibrate before reaching out to begin pulling each buckle from its casing. “I juss dranks and danced and let some humans get closed enough to touches me…” Jun’s expression darkens and managing to work one boot free, he tosses it downward, allowing it to fall onto the plush throw rug below before he begins unfastening the other. “He tolds me not to, but fuck ‘im, they didn’st actually touches me okay, I wuss really careful. I juss let them get in close to me thass all.” Slipping his other foot free he drops the second boot down before throwing himself back once more, a shaking hand rising unsteadily upwards to rake through tangled white bangs.

“Sometimes I juss like the way they smells, ans I juss get so sssicks of my own kinds ans I wanna be arounds different ssentts, you know?” He admits as bleary pink eyes meet black flecked midnight through snowy strands. Slipping his fingers from his hair, he once again pushes his toned frame upward and curling over until his elbows come in contact with leather covered knees, he glances to each side before he begins talking again, this time his voice is kept very low.

“You wanna knows some secrets?” Jun’s expression is suddenly very serious in a way that’s almost comical and it’s clear he thinks he’s about to tell the Dark the biggest secret of them all. “I likes the way you smellses too, but don’t tells you okay? Don’t tells them anybody ‘causes I’m not ‘sposed to cares. I’m ‘sposed to thinks everyones ssents is stinks… but I dons’t. I dons’t thinks it at all.” Shaking his head, the white haired Angel is about to sit back again when he suddenly seems to realize his glass has tipped and that there’s water splashed on his table, causing his early dawn hued gaze to go wide.

“Oh fuckss me! I gotta cleans it” he bursts out, taking the taller man by surprise and with a swift, slightly awkward yet graceful movement, he rises up to his feet and begins stumbling towards the kitchen, intent on finding a cloth to wipe the mess he’s made up and speaking as he goes. “I like it dancing…” he practically shouts back as he reaches the kitchen and begins ripping one random drawer open after another. “Do you danced with them humans evers? Do you likes it?”

Zephyr: There are not enough words for how comical and entertaining this entire situation is. In any of the language he knows, there simply aren’t enough words. If he’d had any idea that Jun was this much fun when drunk, he would have found a way to get him shitfaced a long time ago. Leaning back in his overstuffed chair, the Dark watches the chaos in the kitchen unfold as the Angel tears through drawers and cabinets--most of them completely empty--before finding what he seeks. With a cry of success, Jun holds the towel up like a prize before rushing back to the coffee table. Skidding down to the rug on his leather-clad knees, he oh so carefully begins to clean up the spill. In his drunken state, however, what is “careful” really means swishing the cloth back and forth and scattering the water even further across the table’s marble surface.

Biting back a laugh, but unable to contain the smile at how ridiculously funny this all is, Zeph merely watches from his chair. “Do I like dancing?” The blonde repeats the earlier question, and Jun pauses momentarily in his clean up to nod vigorously. “I like it very much. There’s something… kind of instinctual about it, no matter what race you are, you can just sink into the rhythm and let the music take over.” In terms of relaxation and overall therapy, dancing is the only thing left to him now that he can no longer fly. It’s all he has when he needs to clear his head, and he’s visited practically all of this small city’s offerings in the company of Innic, his brother, both of them, or alone. With the skies lost to him, dancing is the last refuge remaining, and he finds it interesting that Jun seems to enjoy it so much as well.

Sweeping the towel one last time across the tabletop, the Angel finds his work satisfactory, discarding the cloth to the floor and reaching for the remaining glass as he shifts rather gracefully back to the couch. Alcohol-smeared pink eyes look at him rather expectedly, as if waiting, and it takes the Dark a moment to realize he only answered half the questions asked of him. “So I like dancing, but do I like dancing with humans?” Zeph nods, white-gold hair shifting over his shoulders. “They’re acceptable dance partners, when that’s what I’m in the mood for.” He grins rather wickedly at the other man. “They’re good for other things, too, from time to time, if you’re so inclined.” Well, when they’re drunk enough or high enough not to notice the glowing golden eyes and when they’re not too breakable. As much as he could give a shit about humans in general, he has felt badly the few times he’s accidentally hurt one while in their bed. He’d also stopped messing around with them when they’re sober because rewriting their memories to forget that he’s not human has produced several horrible results. Too much messing in a human’s mind isn’t good for their overall wellbeing, or so he’s found.

The grin remains as he watches Jun drink half the glass of water in one go, genuinely enjoying this much looser, more carefree version of the Angel. This assignment would be much more fun if all their interactions were like this. But while he’s aware it’s not permanent, the tall Selestarri can’t help but to mess with Jun just a little. “You like dancing with the humans and you like their scents, right?” Pink eyes slip back to midnight and the other man nods. “You said you like my scent, so would you like dancing with me?”

Jun: with a shrug given the white haired Angel sets the glass in his hand down, missing the table completely when he lets go and not at all caring when it falls downward and hits the plush rug below. Pushing himself away from the couch as the contents empty over the plush fibers, he nearly topples backwards the moment he makes it to his feet. Despite the hard sway he makes when he straightens however, his arms are thrown out to steady himself and he manages to move forward soon after. Stepping around the coffee table, Jun moves towards the empty space near the patio doors where the moonlight shines brightly in to highlight every curve of muscle on his lean frame and turning around, he gestures for the other man to join him.

“If you cans do its, you shows me and then I’ll tells you if I’m gonna likes dancing with you.” He slurs and the smile of amusement on Zephyr’s lips widens a little before he pushes himself up and joins the white haired Angel as asked.

Bleary pink eyes lock with midnight as he steps in close and for a few moments, both figures remain still, one simply waiting while the other continues to sway unsteadily before him. “Iss okays to touches me ‘cause your nots humans…” Jun says quietly when he realizes Zephyr hasn’t started dancing and it only takes him a moment to come to a conclusion as to the reasons why. Staring up into midnight he takes a single wobbly half step forward before reaching out to grasp onto the blonde’s wrist and tugging his arm away from his side, he guides his hand onto his hips. Once he’s made sure both hands are secured around his body, he slides his own arms upwards and then sets long fingers against the tall Selstarri’s chest. “He canst ever making me hurts you ‘cause he ssaid only them humans canst touches me…okay?” The Angel grins and without waiting another second and despite the fact that there’s no music he begins moving, his entire ethereal frame rocking gracefully in tune to a silent beat…

Zephyr: He just can’t help himself when the invitation is made, following the Angel around the furniture to the empty space just before the doors to the balcony. Honestly he didn’t think this would be the response to his teasing words, but then again, this isn’t the Jun he’d become familiar with since arriving at this assignment. The man standing in front of him could be a different person entirely. He’d been kidding about the dancing, but that seems to have been lost on the Angel completely, and it’s only when Jun narrows the space between them and pulls the blonde’s hands to his leather-clad hips that the Dark realizes that the shorter man is serious.

The fingers that touch his chest are warm, even through the t-shirt and sweatshirt he wears, equally as warm as the slim hips beneath his hands. For some reason he’s a little surprised, he’d always imagined that Jun would be as cold to the touch as his frozen facade, but there’s absolutely nothing frigid under his palms at the moment. Instead he feels energy, kinetic energy that’s buzzing to be freed as the Angel sways gracefully back and forth. For a moment, Zeph’s not sure what to make of this entire situation, and especially not of whatever it is that the other man had been slurring about touching and not touching and hurting people or the “he” that Jun has referred to several times since they walked in the door. Whatever it all is, it seems to lead to his coworker giving himself permission to be this close to him, so he doesn’t interrupt and instead watches as the Angel moves to a beat only he seems able to hear.

Letting the shorter man go on for long minute, figuring Jun will quit and laugh it off and move onto the next thing his brain thinks on like most drunken people do, the Dark continues to stand still, but when it becomes apparent that the shorter man really wants to dance and doesn’t seem ready to quit any time soon, Zephyr changes his mind. Why the hell not? It’s not like there’s a high probability of this ever happening again, so he might as well just enjoy himself. “Dancing works a lot better,” he quietly breaks the silence, “when both people can hear the music, right?” Freeing one hand from Jun’s hip, his sleek white cell appears and the blonde clicks through the screens to find a dance playlist, turning up the volume as loudly as possible. The sound quality is shit, but they can both hear it, and the Angel slips easily into the rhythm as if this song and the one that had been playing in his head are one and the same.

A quick spell sends the phone floating just above their heads and fuzzy pink eyes catch black streaked midnight as Zeph returns his hand to its place on the other man’s hip. “That’s much better.” A wicked smile spreads across the tall Selestarri’s mouth, and without warning he snaps Jun’s hips in tight against his own, dawn tinted eyes widening just slightly before the Angel is grinning, too. The beat of the song drives them both into a hard, grinding rhythm, faces close and gazes locked. The fingers resting on the Dark’s chest slide slowly downward as the song begins to spin into the next track, the touch leaving a hot path in its wake that’s quickly interrupted when Zeph pulls his hand from Jun’s waist and wraps it around one of the Angel’s arms. Easily spinning the shorter man around, he pulls him in close again, back and chest colliding and their frames locked together when he slips his arm around the narrow waist in an almost possessive way.

Tilting his head so that his lips nearly touch Jun’s ear, the Selestarri pitches his words playfully, “so is my dancing as good as my scent?”

Jun: At this very moment he feels free, the beat ever encompassing despite the poor sound quality as it resonates throughout the otherwise still air and the touch of another that isn’t tainted by loathing or pain something he finds he’s sorely needed. It’s been so long since he’s been this close to someone of his choosing and he’s thoroughly enjoying every moment of it. It’s been so long since another has had their arm wrapped around him in a way that isn’t malicious and right now he never wants it to end. It doesn’t matter to him in the slightest that it’s the blonde he’s dancing with, that the taller man is someone he’d sworn only hours prior to never speak to again and it doesn’t even register that he may actually come to regret his actions when the alcohol has worn off and he finds himself able to think properly again.

For now he’ll keep on dancing, just as he’ll keep relishing the fire Zephyr’s touch causes as it spirals lazily along his spine. He wants to melt against into the taller man, he wants to stay like this forever and for now, that’s exactly what he plans to do. The spell however is interrupted when playful words are spoken into his ear, the feel of the blonde’s lips brushing his skin and that wash of his breath causing each tangled strand of snow to stand up at the back of his neck. It takes him a few moments to gather himself to answer and when he does, he arches his lean frame back while slipping a hand upward to thread his fingers into white blonde hair in order to hold the other man steady. Stretching his neck back, he tilts his head just far enough to allow full lips to come in contact with Zephyr’s structured jaw and shifting ever so slightly, he presses his nose just beneath. The touch instantly stills the taller man’s movements and stills his very breath, and lingering for only a moment, pink eyes slip half lidded before he takes a deep breath in.

The scent that hits his senses is tainted however and when the distinguishing signatures register, it pulls a hard frown to his lips. Reopening his eyes, Jun slides his head just far enough back to find midnight, his slurred tone unhappy and his voice kept a little low. “You smells differencetss…” Suddenly his swaying stops and slipping his fingers from the blonde’s hair, he lets his companion go. Reaching down, Jun grasps onto the arm that holds him before tugging it free and taking a step forward, he pushes away from the one behind with a slight shake of his head. ”Your dancings iss fine, but your sensstss issnots thems same” It’s clear from his tone that the revelation has upset him and with his brows now furrowed, he stumbles around the taller figure towards the back of his apartment where the bedroom lies.

“I donst care if you’re having sexses with thatss other guys, I’m not ‘sposed to care.” Jun mumbles as he goes, his words kept quiet as if he’s now talking to himself but due to his inebriated state, his tone is pitched loud enough for Zephyr to hear. “You stinks of different senssts, I stinks of humansses smokes and beerss, sso why sshould I ccare about any ofs its…” Reaching his room, long fingers slide up to push the door open and behind him while the music continues to play and the cell phone remains floating in the air near the patio doors, the Dark simply follows his steps in. He makes it past the threshold just as Jun disappears around the corner, and as he comes to a halt, the light flicks on in the bathroom, followed by the sound of running water from a shower that’s obviously been turned on.

Black flecked midnight eyes slip from the partially cracked doorway to glance around his newest surroundings, tracing over every detail of the perfectly made king sized bed and plush bedding, to the outwardly bare night stands, the dresser, wardrobe and then the walls. There he finds that lining every space from top to bottom and extending from the ceiling down to encompass even the flooring, a faint imprint of a ward is written and while the foreign scrolled lettering is similar to the wards on the rest of the apartment, the signature itself is no where near the same. The Dark spends a long moment studying it until he realizes that all movement has stopped in the other room save the sound of the water itself and slipping his eyes away from the faint magic, he moves to the bathroom before reaching out to push the door the rest of the way in. At the far end of the room he finds Jun curled over inside of the shower, the glass doors left open and his body only partially in -his toned frame slumped down against the pristine tile walls. The Angel’s early dawn hued gaze is only half closed as the water rains down from the wide showerhead above, the warm liquid plastering tangled strands to his face, neck and back, the belts and the collar he’d worn already discarded on a white plush rug but his cropped shirt and tight leather pants despite being unbuttoned still remain on…

Zephyr: As he stands and watches Jun’s unmoving form in the bottom of the shower, pink eyes completely closed and remain that way, a sure sign that the Angel has completely passed out. Shaking his head, the Dark crosses the tiled floor and reaches in to shut off the stream of water. He easily lifts the shorter, drenched man and carries him from the bathroom to the large bed in the adjoining room. Gently setting Jun on top of the thick, rich white comforter, he eases him from the cropped shirt with a skill that speaks of many previous nights of helping those too drunk to help themselves.

Slipping the water soaked white top away, midnight eyes can’t help but to travel over the slender frame revealed beneath, tracing along each muscle, line, and curve beneath pale skin. On Jun’s chest over his heart is a strange marking, a circle ringed with more of the same script he sees in the wards on the walls. Pale lines snake away from the mark, as if whatever had made it leaked into the Angel’s veins. It’s interesting, and it leaves him wondering if it’s something all Angels carry. His gaze continues downward at a slow pace, memorizing each bit of Jun’s torso and the ridge of slim hips exposed by the low rise leather pants. As if in response to his attention to his colleague’s body, the spot on his jaw where full lips had touched grows warm and a light heat streaks through Zeph’s body. He’d always thought Jun was beautiful, it would be impossible not to, even with his frigid demeanor, but tonight is the first time he’d actually felt any kind of physical interest for the other man. Maybe it was the dancing or maybe it’s seeing the Angel partially undressed, but whichever it is, he can’t deny that he likes it all very much.

Turning back toward the bath, the Dark collects the belts and collar from the floor and neatly arranges them on the white marble counter, taking a moment to smooth white gold hair where Jun’s fingers had left it in disarray. It’s somewhat amusing that the white-haired man had been unhappy about his scent being mixed with Innic. He’d known that Angels have very strong senses of smell, it had been in their briefs, but the fact that they can smell when one person’s scent is commingled with another’s in the way Jun had is very interesting. His coworker had not seemed to like that at all, and had almost sounded a little jealous when he said he’s not supposed to care, and while it’s not that he gets a say in who Zeph brings to his bed, it is kind of adorable all the same.

Making his way to the kitchen, the tall Selestarri finds a fresh glass and fills it with water, leaving it on the counter as he collects the other two from the rug between the couch and the coffee table. Washing each one out, he sets them upside down to dry on a dishcloth he finds in an opened cabinet and then takes a moment to set the kitchen back to rights after Jun’s whirlwind attack. Sliding the drawers closed, Zeph pauses when he finds one that isn’t empty, midnight eyes staring down for a long moment at the contents: two food dividers, one pink, the other striped, and a dried pink peony. A smile shifts across full lips as he slowly closes the drawer, unsure if they were kept because he was the one who had given them to the other man or if Jun is just so attracted to all things pink that he must squirrel them away.

Taking the full glass as he leaves the kitchen, Zephyr returns to the bedroom, setting the crystal on the nightstand where Jun will easily be able to find it when he wakes. Without much thought lent, he reaches out to gently push wet strands of white from the Angel’s face, carefully freeing the black clips that hold long bangs away from closed pink eyes and setting them beside the glass. Moving around the bed, he grasps one side of the thick duvet and pulls it up and over until it covers Jun, making sure that he’s got enough room should he decide to shift positions while he sleeps.

With everything in order, the blonde glances one last time at his sleeping coworker before leaving the bedroom and padding on silent bare feet to the door and then out into the hallway. With the latch clicking into place behind him, Zeph turns back toward Innic’s apartment, and the warm bed that awaits him ...

[B A C K] + [M A I N] + [N E X T]


The Angel Hunt story has been written by Nezumi LacSeul and is (C) 2004 - Present. All Streifen characters belong to Evphaedrielle. Please don't use, steal or borrow any part of it or take in whole.