Heaven’s Fire Burns Brightest

by blessedphantasm

Summary:

Ryo’s face is still close and his pupils are blown so wide there’s only a sliver of blue remaining- like an eclipsed moon, Akira thinks giddily. Ryo smirks and then the warmth of him and his big fluffy coat are gone, he’s standing up and downing his entire beer in one go, head tilted back. He finishes and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and then walks towards the shifting crowd of people, as he passes a table he breaks the glass bottle on the edge. Ryo brandishes it like a weapon by the neck, the jagged edges of glass stick out like knives and quickly Akira understands. A black sabbath requires pleasures of the flesh, the music, the lights and symbols and most importantly… sacrifice.

What if in the next loop Amon remembers the previous ones? What if he’s tired of this ceaseless fighting? Maybe he’ll take matters into his own hands.

Notes:

• Inspired by How Do I Make You Love Me? by blessedphantasm

This is inspired by my previous unfinished fic, this time more horror, slower burn, and we’re actually gonna finish it this time too :)

Chapter 1: Lamb to Slaughter

 

Thunder cracks outside Ryo’s bedroom window, illuminating the room for only a second, but it is enough to see just under the crack of his closed door; two shadowy feet, someone is pressed up against his door. Ryo stares in the darkness and strains to focus on the doorknob, don’t turn, don’t turn, don’t turn- He shouldn’t be so scared, the only other person in the house is his father. Except for… what had happened earlier that evening.

 

The image of the family dog is stuck in his brain forever he fears; head separated from his shoulders and sliding down a sticky pole, his body torn apart and bloated with spilled blood. He had ran to his father’s study then, terrified, and his stomach had dropped at the next grizzly image. His father was covered in blood, laughing. Ryo had quickly and quietly backed up down the hall and ran to his bedroom in panic. 

 

Now he barely catches it, the glint of the doorknob twisting in the pitch black darkness of his room. And as quickly as he can he shuts his eyes and shoves his dominant hand under his pillow. His fingers brush the hilt of his hunting knife, cool leather against his clammy hand, and he grips it as tight as he can. The hard rain pounding on the roof and window makes it too hard to hear as well, and Ryo strains to hear anything- footsteps, the door closing, his father’s breathing, anything . But he can’t make anything out, only the rain and thunder and his hammering heartbeat. Then the floorboards right up against his bed squeaks- Ryo’s eyes fly open, he raises his free arm in defense and begins to pull out the knife. His father’s glasses obscure his eyes as more lightning comes through the window, and it illuminates the inhumanly wide grin on his face and kitchen knife in his bloodied hands. 

---

Akira finishes shoving his track suit into his bag, slinging it over his shoulder as he sprints to catch up with Miki. She’s waiting by the school doors and waves him over, they fall into step together and push through the doors and out, “You know, if you just practiced a little more your times would be way better.” 

 

“You mean if I practiced at all.” She hums and nods her head, her short black hair waving with the movement. 

 

“I’m going to this weekend, you should come with me and we can run together!” Miki nudges him, a bright beaming smile on her face and Akira only shrugs. She pouts. “Awww come on! It’s not like you’re doing anything anyway-“ 

 

“I know exactly what I’ll be doing,” Akira remarks, trying to suppress a smirk as Miki raises a manicured eyebrow, “Not fucking running with you- Hey !” He’s nudged harder in the side with her elbow, it hurts only a little bit cause she’s so bony and small, and Akira doubles over as he laughs. He clutches his side and mouths ‘ouchie’ at Miki as she snickers. 

 

They walk in tandem, familiar silence stretches between them and the pleasant autumn breeze actually does make Akira rethink for a moment. Running around the indoor track had been tedious, sweaty, exhausting. But, running around in this weather- maybe not a run- a light jog could be nice, and it wouldn’t be so bad if Miki was with him. 

 

A cheerful tune starts up from Miki’s pocket, her phone buzzing and blaring some pop song. She scrambles to fetch it out, the little cute charms that hang from it clink together with the force, “This is Miki speaking!” Miki’s cheerful voice answers and cuts the ringing off, they both stop walking only a few yards from the school yard gates. Then her face does something curious, she looks slightly put-off and pulls the phone away from her face and stares at the screen in bewilderment. 

 

“Um- It’s for you?” She holds out her pink phone to Akira, he points at himself and she shrugs and shakes the phone at him insistently. 

 

“Hello?” Akira is by all means confused and it certainly comes across in his tone. He doesn’t know who he’s expecting, but it isn’t the answering voice at all.

 

“Where are you at this exact moment?” It’s Ryo .

 

“Ryo! It’s been what? Like a month? What’re you-“ 

 

“You know what- It’s fine I got it already. I’ll be there in a minute, stay put.” The line clicks dead and it’s Akira’s turn to stare at the screen, now beyond confused. 

 

“What was that about? Lovers quarrel ?” Miki leans forward, waggling her eyebrows and Akira shoves her phone in her face. She giggles and snatches it back.

 

Akira purposely ignores her teasing, “No… It was weird…”

 

“From what you’ve told me, Ryo is weird anyways… so?” 

 

“No- No, this was weird for him. He said he’d be here in a minute? He can’t though… He lives in the States with his dad.” Akira stares at the phone in her hands for several more seconds and then gives a nonchalant shrug, “I dunno, he might be drinking or something- Don’t look at me like that, he goes to like… college parties. He’s in school!” 

 

It had only been a month since Akira had spoken to him last, and he was only a little embarrassed to admit he thought about him everyday. If Ryo wasn’t responding to Akira’s emails, then he was busy. It had been years since they’d seen each other, and only this past year had they gotten back in touch really. Their parents were working together on some research study, and really Ryo was in on the whole thing too as far as he knew. Some big anthropological thingy in America, there was a cave they were digging stuff up in and that was the last he had heard. Akira’s own parents were pretty much always in the dig site, outside of any reception, and checked in even less than Ryo. 

 

It had been a hard pill to swallow, his childhood best friend getting to hang around his parents constantly; whom he had really only seen the past three Christmases, and that had been over video chat. Akira took it in stride though, swallowing his own jealousy in favor of excitement that his best friend was talking to him. And Ryo had confirmed he didn’t actually spend much time at the dig-site, only one short trip in reality, and he had only talked to Akira’s parents for a minute before they were off again. He had wrestled with feeling relieved and feeling guilty that he had even been so jealous at all. Ryo was always smarter, taller, more handsome, and he remembers his parents had even remarked how gifted Ryo had been as a child on one occasion. 

 

“Isn’t that all people in American colleges do? Drink?” Miki asked, swinging her bag as she begins to walk down the sidewalk again. When Akira doesn’t immediately start to follow she stops and turns around to look at him. “Aren’t you coming?” Akira doesn’t get the chance to answer her. 

 

A deep rumbling, unlike the normal sounds of traffic, cuts through the otherwise silent afternoon. It’s intense and a diesel smell wafts through the wind, following the loud noise as it gets closer and closer. Miki and Akira both whip their heads as the sound of tires screeching alerts them. At the end of the block a sleek white car skids into the turn, practically drifting, and straightens and shoots down the empty road. Another halting screech comes as the car stops right beside them, the force of it bringing a gust and ruffling their hair and Miki’s uniform skirt. The drivers side door opens, opposite from their side of the road, smoke billows out of the car and an overwhelmingly skunky smell hits Akira. He crinkles his nose and thinks about telling whoever this flashy guy is to get lost, there is a school right there and it’s a nice neighborhood- 

 

Nearly white blonde hair comes first, then black sunglasses that are pulled up and rest on top of the neat blonde trim, Ryo grins at him from over the car, “Akira, get in.” And it’s unmistakably him, with his icy blue eyes and pert pale eyelashes. Akira is already stepping towards the car. 

 

“Akira! You can’t just get in there-!” Miki sounds scandalized, and when Akira spares a glance her way she’s got her nose pinched between her thumb and index finger and her cheeks are puffed red, brows furrowed. 

 

“Tell your parents I’ll be back later- It’s only Ryo,” He waves her off and she scoffs into her palm, “I haven’t seen him in forever!” 

 

“Exactly, let’s go. I have a lot to tell you,” Ryo flicks his sunglasses back down with a pointed look towards Miki and then is back in his car, the passenger door opens from the inside- Ryo is leaned over the seat and pushes it open, Akira catches the edge of the door and looks back at Miki again. 

 

“I’m not so sure… Something doesn’t feel right, Akira.” Miki says it so quietly that Akira is fairly sure Ryo didn’t hear over the sound of the engine idling, and her concern is so very misplaced. Ryo had degrees, he was in a master’s program, he was too smart for his own good, there was no way in his mind that Ryo would be the cause of any issues. 

 

“It’s fine! I’ll see you later- go on that run or whatever-“ Akira waves her off, not able to contain his own smile as he ducks his head and climbs into the sleek car. He shuts the door and buckles up, and as soon as his belt clicks into place Ryo is slamming on the pedal and they peel off in a plume of smoke. Miki is left coughing and waving her hand in her face. 

 

Akira’s whole body is pressed back against the seat with the force of the car taking off, and with one hand still on the seatbelt he grips the fabric tight. When he spares a glance at Ryo he’s got an indifferent expression, most of it hidden behind his black shades, and how on Earth is he so calm driving this fast? 

 

“How are you even here?” Akira barely stops himself from screaming when Ryo’s eyes leave the road as he turns to face him completely. 

 

“A plane.” His dark glasses slide down just enough and Akira can see the playful glint in Ryo’s eyes, the same one he had when they were kids and he was making fun of Akira. When he rolls his eyes Ryo snorts and turns back to driving, “I landed last night. I have some important things I need to talk to you about- It can’t be over the phones, anyone could be listening-“ 

 

“Who?” 

 

“Do you trust me?” And Ryo is looking at him again, just a quick flick of eyes to watch as Akira nods his head almost too quickly. “I can only trust you with this- Only if you agree to not tell anyone.” 

 

“Are you in trouble? I’ll keep it a secret… whatever it is.” 

 

They speed onto the highway and Ryo weaves in and out of traffic, speeding past every vehicle in his path, “What do you know about demons?” 

---

 

“You don’t have to help me- I just- I don’t know who else I can trust.” Ryo stands with Akira outside his parked car, they’re in an abandoned looking place, lots of trash on the street and crumbling buildings. Before them is a large brick church, tangled vines weaving and covering the bricks like skin, and the building breathes with the echoing music, and beats with the thumping of bass. It’s twilight out now, the sky is casted in dark blues and purple like a welted bruise, it had taken awhile for Ryo to explain everything. The blonde’s sunglasses were off now and the night sky made his blue eyes deep navy, like the deepest core of the ocean. 

 

“I’m helping you whether or not you want me to. Y-You said your father turned into one- I can’t just- Just let it go! We have to do something-“ Akira’s voice was strung out from crying in the car, his eyes were puffy and irritated still, and Ryo’s entire body seemed to deflate and relax at Akira’s insistence to help. He takes a step closer, right into Akira’s personal space and claps a hand on his shoulder. 

 

“There is something, I found some notes in my father’s study…” The hand goes tight, Akira has to look up to make eye contact with him as he’s so close, “About demonic possession… He was trying to take a demon’s power- You understand right? Nothing can kill these things- other than another demon… If we could take dominion over a demon, we could use that power against them.” 

 

“Possession? Like… Like Exorcist shit?” 

 

“That’s only if the demon takes control- we have to possess it.” 

 

“How do we do that?” Ryo shrugs and hooks his thumb for Akira to follow him as he turns and heads for the church. “Hey! Wait up-“ Akira stumbles on the curb in the darkness as he rushes to catch up, Ryo waits for him with his hands in his big white coat pockets and a pleased smile. 

 

“Remember how I told you about black Sabbaths?” Akira nods as they walk, trying to be nonchalant and put his hands in his pockets, “Well there’s been these underground clubs lately, they call them Sabbaths. They use Satanic imagery and mock the real ritual… That’s what this place is.” He nods at the building and they both look up to the multicolored glass panes, a large circular one being the center of attention. It depicts an image of Judas kissing Jesus on the cheek, the soldiers with their weapons out ready to arrest the Redeemer. The original colors aren’t as clear because of the flashing multicolored lights coming from inside, it makes the glass shimmer like the stars. 

 

“And it’s going to summon a demon?” 

 

“The other ones I’ve heard about have.” 

 

“How do… How do you know it’ll work?” 

 

“I don’t.” Ryo fixes him with that look, cold and serious, “There are more things in Heaven and Earth, than dreamt of in philosophy- or whatever the fuck Shakespeare said-“ His frown turns to a toothy grin and he shrugs, it sets Akira’s nerves at ease and a laugh bubbles out of his mouth. Ryo’s hand clasps on his shoulder again and he steers them towards the ornate wooden doors of the church. “You ready?” 

 

“Yes.” 

 

Inside the church is a swath of colors and bodies, all writhing and moving like one big mass, entranced by the vibrations of the speakers. Where there would normally be chandeliers hanging from the vast rafters there are lights- women hanging and sliding down fabric tangles, cages where naked women grip the bars and whip their technicolored hair around wildly. Hanging below them just above the crowd is a huge cloud of what Akira first thinks is smoke but realizes it’s just the humidity and sweat clinging to the atmosphere from all the bodies. It’s so crowded in the space one can barely move without running into someone, and it’s so unbearably hot that Akira doesn’t get how Ryo is still wearing his puffy white coat, or how anyone is even dancing at all. Granted- none of them are really wearing anything Akira would consider clothing. Everyone who is dressed is in barely concealing neon fabrics, leather, tight spandex with sparkling sequins. 

 

They’re still milling about in the entrance when a topless girl approaches, her perky breasts sway nearly intentionally as she smiles with her pretty mouth and leans close to them, “First time!?” 

 

“Not me- it’s his first though,” Ryo shakes his shoulder and Akira has to force himself to look up at her face as she laughs loud and jovial, he can hardly hear her or anything over the pounding music. She says something else to Ryo and he chuckles, leering over Akira’s shoulder and there’s a look in his eyes he’s never seen. It’s focused and sultry- he’s flirting with this girl. And that’s an odd thought, Ryo flirting with anyone at all, but he can’t dwell on it because all of a sudden there’s delicately manicured hands on his face and the blonde girl in front of them closes the distance. She kisses Akira straight on the lips- it’s his first ever and he’s held there by Ryo’s firm chest against his back. He barely even opens his lips and a hot wet slick tongue slides into his mouth, the foreignness of it enough for Akira to gasp. Something goes down his throat.

 

She pulls back and from her obnoxiously designed fannypack she pulls a small baggie and Ryo takes it in his free hand. The girl winks and is back into the sea of bodies before Akira can react, “What- What did she-“ 

 

“It’s drugs- Don’t worry- everyone else here is doing it and they’re all still standing.” Ryo has to speak right up against his ear for him to hear and the warm breath tickles, Akira isn’t sure if he shivers because of that or the answer. “I won’t let anything happen to you, Akira.” And Akira believes him

 

Ryo opens the baggie and throws back the pill inside, tossing the trash to the already stained and ruined floor. If not for Ryo’s hand on his shoulder he would surely be lost, the weight of his fingers curled in place is grounding. They pass through the gyrating bodies and when the crowd gets too close Ryo’s hand lets go and instead grips his wrist tightly. Akira nearly trips more than he’d like to admit, and he can feel sticky liquid on the floor as he walks pulling at the bottom of his soles. In the center of the church is a circular bar, Ryo sidles up to the illuminated counter and with barely any words gets them drinks. Akira doesn’t even have enough time to dwell on Ryo’s soft and slightly cool fingers on his warmed wrist before the blonde lets go and guides him by the shoulder again after handing him one of the two beer bottles. They make it to the edge of the club, a plush red couch sits and Akira sinks into the seat thankfully. 

 

His whole body is hot and sweaty, his head is beginning to feel light and spacey. Ryo is sitting next to him now, their thighs pressed close together and his arm is behind the couch. Akira follows his lead as he drinks, pressing the damp glass to his lips and drinking the bitter ambery alcohol within. It’s worse tasting than he thought it would be and he tries hard to not make a face after swallowing. 

 

“Look out for anything suspicious.” This whole place is suspicious. He can see people on their knees doing things with their mouths, two women further down the couch grind against each other, one of their hands going down the other’s tight shorts- Akira shifts his thighs together and has to look away, feeling a little too hot under the collar from the open displays of coupling. Instead he lets the damp glass of his beer cool his fingers and uses his other hand to pull on his jeans, relieving some pressure. 

 

Akira turns his gaze downward to the concrete floor, and what would usually be sturdy and solid seems to be wavy, like the shore coming in from the sea. It hurts to look for too long, he blinks and shakes his head to try and rid himself of the odd sensation, but everything seems to be moving when it shouldn’t be. “Akira,” He whips his head far too quickly and has to close his eyes again, but now it’s as if he’s spinning endlessly so he opens them again reluctantly. Ryo is turned to face him- when had he gotten so close? “You stay here, I’m gonna get things started.” 

 

The darker haired boy nods dumbly, not cognizant enough at all to understand what he meant. Ryo’s face is still close and his pupils are blown so wide there’s only a sliver of blue remaining- like an eclipsed moon , Akira thinks giddily. Ryo smirks and then the warmth of him and his big fluffy coat are gone, he’s standing up and downing his entire beer in one go, head tilted back. He finishes and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and then walks towards the shifting crowd of people, as he passes a table he breaks the glass bottle on the edge. Ryo brandishes it like a weapon by the neck, the jagged edges of glass stick out like knives and quickly Akira understands. A black sabbath requires pleasures of the flesh, the music, the lights and symbols and most importantly… sacrifice. 

 

Screams erupt through the crowd, not loud enough to cut entirely through the music, and Akira stumbles to get up fast enough. Ryo can’t. He can’t be- Akira makes for the same direction where Ryo had slithered into the endless sea of bodies, and he follows the commotion he hears and sees just barely above thrown up hands and dancing patrons. He can’t move quick enough, there’s far too many people and he keeps getting jostled around and redirected from his destination. Eventually he pushes through the mass of people and he can see Ryo’s white coat, the flash of red and someone dropping to the floor with a shriek. 

 

“ Ryo! Stop!” Akira tries to reach through the onlookers and his arm is yanked forward by someone, he crashes into several people who all yell and curse and push him back. He doesn’t even get much of a chance to right himself up before a punch lands on his face, another to his gut and he doubles over in pain, crying out unintelligibly. 

 

Harsh hands on his body make him tumble over to the hard concrete floor, he lands in some sort of warm liquid and when he looks down to his hands on the floor they’re in a pool of growing crimson blood. A body of a girl, face twisted in terror, lays next to him with her torso cut open and her head split open on the concrete. Akira can hear a woman laughing behind him, high pitched and hysterical until the sound turns into a scream, equally high pitched. He can’t tear his eyes away from the girl on the floor though- her black eyes are open and staring back lifelessly at Akira’s own wide ones. 

 

Bile rises in his throat and his eyes sting as tears accumulate, he gags audibly and blinks to try and stop his tears. A loud crunch to his side causes him to look and the sight he’s greeted with is indescribable. Akira’s only seen things like this in his nightmares. 

 

People are running and screaming, hysterically laughing as they bathe in the carnage before them. Well, Akira wouldn’t call these things people at all- they’re creatures, monsters, horrible gruesome things- demons. They have faces and mouths full of canines where they shouldn’t be, leathery wings and horns, they are all so different looking to each other but Akira can tell they are all the same. By the way they cackle and desecrate, how they bite into humans as they squeal and slurp their organs out. Around him, if people aren’t sliced in two or eaten, their bodies crack and break and they laugh as it happens- Their bodies change form and reshape themselves into fermented and animalistic configurations, their bodies make no sense in their anatomy. 

 

The drowning music cuts. 

 

Screams and revolting snapping and growling fills Akira’s eardrums, he can’t stop his tears now and they spill quickly down his puffy red cheeks. A gun goes off and Akira snaps his attention to the sound. Ryo is holding a gun and unloading the clip into a shrieking flying demon, yellow spurts shoot out of the wounds made and the black feathered beast goes careening down. It had been headed straight for Ryo, and with its momentum one large wing catches a hanging neon light. The demon brings down the light with it as it falls, Ryo yells out and is suddenly covered by the entire body falling into him. 

 

Akira moves before thinking, shooting up and going straight into a sprint in his friend’s direction. How could he survive that? If that thing isn’t dead it will- That was the least of his worries now, from the corner of his eye he sees the movement. A huge black slithering mass is coming towards him, and when he turns his head just slightly to get a look he regrets it immediately. All he sees is the open jaws of the creature, with blood stained rows of huge razor sharp teeth and its huge tongue lolling out to reach for him. I’m going to die, he realizes quickly, and he cries harder and pushes himself to go faster, to push his feet against the floor with more strength and propel himself to safety. Over his head the shadow gets closer and it’s not enough- he’s going to be eaten alive- he’s going to die in this crumbling church and then Ryo is going to get- 

 

Akira can’t think of anything- he’s shaken straight through to his core by the sudden invasion he feels. His spine tingles lightly and then it’s so real and odd that Akira swears a hand is holding onto his bones. The odd sensation travels up his spine in an instant, and everything occurs within milliseconds now. 

 

It starts similar to a sharp headache, stabbing pain behind Akira’s eyes and it’s as if his brain is split in two. He’s never felt anything this painful- his mind can’t understand how the pain is coming from inside his head when he’s in the jaws of a demon. Pain should be coming from gnashing teeth- the jaws of literal death tearing him open. His head is too full- it’s not made to hold something like this- something beyond comprehension. 

 

Scalding sulfur, boiling rivers of blood, the distinct and unmistakable scent of burnt and decaying flesh- Something slick, and warm and wet- Like a stuck open pig- It’s all inside Akira; the burning heat of hellfire blooms from seemingly nothing. A lock in his mind is undone, a door is opened, he can feel his will slip from pure desperation- Please- Please make the pain stop . 

 

You have to allow me in. You will not die. Yes-! Yes! Anything to stop- 

 

Every molecule in his body feels as if its rearranged, he tingles all over from his spine to hands to legs and toes. Someone is doing this to him- Someone is in his mind, thumbing through his memories like a damn catalogue - 

 

Pain snaps through Akira’s bones as they crack and rearrange, he cries out, the jaws above him get closer, closing in- This is it! He’s going to die painfully and be digested by this thing.

 

Firm black claws grab the creature’s teeth above his head, distantly he understands that those are his now - But he isn’t the one moving them. The beast writhes in his grip, having been stopped in its momentum entirely and with a deep guttural growl the creature is torn straight in half. Its sickly yellow organs slop to the already soaked floor with a splash, acidic blood spurts out and rains down on him- He can feel his mouth with too many teeth grinning- What is happening to me? 

 

Exactly what you wanted . They turn on their heel and zone in directly on where Ryo is trapped under a half-dead demon, wheezing and trying to push the ginormous inky black feathered thing off of his lower body with only one hand. We shall save him.  

---

 

Ryo cries out as the kitchen knife slices his forearm, he kicks one leg out quickly and his father is knocked back in the darkness. He brandishes his hunting knife and quickly sits up, his father is moving too, already scrambling up to the door and when he throws it open light spills in from the hallway. The sudden change makes Ryo’s vision go blurry and he has to blink rapidly as he stands and pursues his father to clear his vision. He has no idea what he’s going to do- he can’t stab his father. Even if he’s acting out of his mind like this. 

 

“ Father!” Ryo calls and runs down the lit hallway, following the bloody shoe prints on the hardwood down the stairs. He rounds a corner and sees the garage door swinging open on its hinges, and follows through into the dimly lit room. 

 

Gasoline is what he first smells and then he sees his father pouring the extra canister out onto his own head. “ I have to stop it- I have to stop it- I have to-“

 

“Dad?” His feet stay firmly in place as he lingers in the doorway, holding out his knife in front of him as a safety precaution. 

 

His father’s head turns gradually and his eyes are entirely glossed over white, his mouth hangs open and drool drips down his chin, “ Son… I’m burning from the inside- I must stop it…” His hand is steady as it grabs his lighter from his pocket, holding it out with his thumb on the spark wheel. 

 

“ Dad don’t-“ His voice wavers. 

 

“ Oh my Son…” The lighter flicks to life, the flame reflecting against the sheen of flammable liquid covering his father's clothes. His white eyes shift and roll back, mouth opening far too wide and his voice comes out raspy and pained. ” You were blameless in your ways from the day you were created… till unrighteousness was found in you .” He drops the lighter and ignites. 

Chapter 2: Entrance of Limbo

Summary:

Akira wakes up the morning after the sabbath and realizes something is different. Ryo tells him what happened.

 

“ Amon!” From nothing he hears it, “ Amon! Now!” The calling of his master, “ Possess Akira! Amon! Do it now!” And from nothing he emerges. 

 

Akira… If He so desires it, it shall be done. 

 

Reaching out to a human consciousness takes some effort, but he had already felt the rumbling of energy for decades now . And finally it was at its climax, everything is clear as daylight- or perhaps starlight. Like the illumination of a fallen star in a Stygian abyss. Akira Fudo’s mind is a simple thing- naive and open, so eager to please and care, so much… emotion. It’s nearly too much for Amon to handle. This overwhelming sensation of tenderness within Akira’s being, it goes against his own instincts to snarl and maim. 

 

“ Amon! Now!” He cannot deny the pulling, the magnetic draw of those commands. They strike through him like divine lightning, and Amon latches onto the very soul of this weak and feeble human. You will not die.

---

The thick brush hides Amon’s body where he’s crouched low to the ground, tail swishing behind him and eyes trained on the impact site. A star had fallen last night, an angel . Nobody wanted to run into an angel, with one there were surely more to come, however, none of them landed so violently. Typically it was like a meteor shower, lights streaking across the skies and then the faintest and lightest chime of bells. Light would descend from the heavens in multiple spots and multiple angels would emerge. They wouldn’t crash to the ground as so much as floated down gently. 

 

This was highly irregular… Only one angel... And they had landed roughly. He- and every other demon- could smell the sweet metallic blood from miles away. An angel’s blood sang. Not that he could smell anything other than that, everything else was too frightened to approach. The force of the impact had scared any small and weak demons, and the scent of divinity was like a repellent to anything smart enough to know it meant certain death. But, it was only the one , and it was injured already. He could devour it easily. 

 

Nothing had moved in the crater since he had been observing it, but there was no sound either; no breathing, no bells, no nature happening around them either. Everything had vacated the area, or was also waiting silently for the angel to get up. Amon breathes deeply and creeps closer, angling his head to finally see down into the unnatural hole in the Earth. Loose white feathers stained with crimson blood surround the unconscious body, and there’s no doubt it’s an angel now. The pale lithe body is bruised and damaged, six wings sprout from their back, with two smaller pairs adorning their head and ankles. The large wings are battered and look broken as they’re twisted in ways they should not. Clasped around their delicate looking wrists are chains that burn the flesh they touch and the extra links of chain sizzle against their skin. He can’t see the angel’s face, as it’s obscured by their matted long blonde hair and they’re laying on their side, limbs warped and twisted under their body. 

 

There is no glowing golden halo around their head… How curious… Amon waits another few seconds, watching the thing wheeze as it tries to breathe through no doubt broken bones and lungs. It doesn’t get up or move at all other than the steady rise and fall of their attempted breathing. So he moves closer as carefully as he can, getting low to the ground and he peers over the edge of the crater once there. He keeps his eyes trained firmly on the angel, unblinking as the devil finally inches down the exposed fresh dirt and stops on all fours within arms reach of those plush white wings and sweet smelling flesh. 

 

His pointed claws twitch and he reaches forward ever so slowly, trying not to even cause a shift in the air— A bruising grip on his wrist stops him suddenly, the angel’s small hand can’t even wrap around his wrist halfway but he can’t move. The chains rattle with the movement and the end of the metal brushes his black furred legs and singes him. Blunt nails dig into his dark skin and he snarls and hisses, attempting to pull his arm back but it doesn’t even budge. White wings twitch and crack as they snap into place, Amon struggles more, shoulders rise and the angel sits up rigidly, blonde curled hair hanging in their face. The locks sway and Amon catches the all consuming gaze of this being, their brows are turned downwards and intense shining cobalt irises bore into him. 

 

Akira falls out of bed and flails in his blankets in pure panic as he wakes up from the dream. He quickly realizes that nothing has a hold of him and he sits up with a sigh, holding his face in his hands and willing his own heart to stop beating so rapidly. Eventually Akira extracts himself from his sweaty blankets and when he stands up and looks at his mattress it’s— covered in what seems to be loose black fur. He reaches down curiously ( when had his bed gotten so low?), twirling a coarse long hair between his fingertips and holding it up to the light. Maybe Tako had shed in his sheets, that stupid black cat was always snooping around his room— but Tako’s fur was soft and not as long… Akira just shakes his head and drops the hair, he’s being silly, just freaked out after his weird dream. 

 

He spares a glance at his alarm clock, 7:15am, he had time to shower off the sheen of sweat clinging to his body and making his clothes stick if he moved now— and if Miki wasn’t hogging the upstairs bathroom. Akira kicks his blankets to the side as he walks across his bedroom, before he even opens the door he can hear the television downstairs playing cartoons, the toaster springing to life, even Miki and Taro speaking indistinctly. What the fuck? As he enters the hallway it becomes even louder, as if he’s in the room with them— He can smell the toast and butter, the bacon sizzling on the stovetop, as if it’s right in front of his face. What is going on? 

 

Akira stumbles into the bathroom and slams the door much too loudly- or perhaps he’s just hearing it with more sensitive ears. He shucks his clothes off and his skin feels charged and electric as his fingers brush across his abdomen and exposed thighs. When had his thighs become so toned? Akira steps out of his pants and further into the bathroom to turn his head towards the mirror above the sink. 

 

His eyes widen and he touches his own face, smushing his cheek and nose and brow— What the absolute fuck? Akira’s bone structure is more well defined, his previously full face is now more lean and his eyes are… They’re more hooded, his brows seemingly stuck in an intense scowl and his eyes are surrounded with dark streaks almost like eyeliner. His irises are still dark brown but now as they glint in the light there’s a scorching amber and white. Akira opens his mouth and his canines are longer, sharper, as well as some of his other teeth. Like a monster. 

 

When he’s done getting ready he grabs his bag and after a moment, his headphones, to put over his ears to just block out some of the increased sound. Miki looks at him strangely and asks what happened, he shrugs her off and gnaws on his plate of greasy bacon. 

 

In class he can’t sit still, he alternates between twiddling his pencil in his fingers and bouncing his leg anxiously. He can hear people whispering across the room like they’re talking loud and clear, he can smell the clean soap and perfume on the girl who sits in front of him. Her light colored hair is down today and he can even smell the rosy shampoo on her curled locks, so sweet smelling . Akira distracts himself by averting his eyes down to his notebook and scribbling in the margins, simple swirls and filling in random shapes and stars. He skips the next class and sits in a bathroom stall staring into the tiled floor, trying to figure out what’s happened to him. 

 

Despite his best efforts the entire last night is fuzzy and distant in his memory, he can’t seem to grasp any coherent thought as they nearly all slip away like sand through his fingers. He can think of one thing though… Ryo. 

 

What had happened to Ryo? They had gone to that sabbath— A black mass. And Ryo had gotten hurt and… The whole thing is too hazy, he wishes he had taken the Makimuras’ offer of a cell phone earlier that year. Miki has a phone though, and Ryo had called it yesterday. 

 

Akira mills about the hallway around Miki’s locker, praying she stops to grab another book for class. The hallway is so loud with so many people walking through it and chattering so he pulls his headphones back on with a wince, not that they’re even connected to any music. 

 

Miki comes around the corner with Miko, the two of them talking amongst themselves and Akira meets them halfway down the hall, looming over both girls. Miko looks him up and down, clearly confused and Miki smiles just as she does with everyone else, “Akira! What’s up?” 

 

“Can I use your phone really quick?” 

 

“What for?” 

 

“To call Ryo,” Miki hums and her smile turns to a smirk. “Please.” 

 

“ Oh— Well maybe… If you tell me where the two of you ran off to yesterday,” She’s looking up at him challengingly, Miko to her side nods in agreement. 

 

“Miki was telling me this guy picked you up in some super fancy car— Is he your sugar daddy or something?” 

 

“ No.” Akira scowls down at them both and they both giggle, “Miki- I’ll tell you later. Pinky promise.” He holds out his pinky and Miki looks at it skeptically, scratching her chin in consideration as she toys with Akira. 

 

“Fine.” She locks pinkies with him and afterwards holds out her pink phone for Akira, “I want it back during lunch, ‘kay?” He snatches it and nods, typing in the password with ease and he scrolls to the recent calls. 

 

“Yeah- sure! Thanks!” Akira spins on his heel and dials the mystery number, he listens to the long ringing and wades through the hallway until he slips out a side door to the parking lot. It’s much quieter out here, and on the third ring the line opens.

 

“Hello?” The voice on the other side is gruff and sleep ridden, but unmistakingly Ryo.

 

“ Ryo . I was so worried that you— That…” Akira chokes up, his eyes welling up against his will.

 

“Oh Akira… I’m fine. You don’t need to worry about me, don’t you remember what happened?” 

 

“No- No I-I just remember you- and- and you were hurt…” The desperation in his voice is even audible to him and Ryo’s tone is soothing, like a compress on an open wound. 

 

“You brought me to the hospital last night, I broke a few ribs and my ankle is sprained but otherwise I’m fine.” That huge feathered beast had crushed Ryo, it had fallen into him and… “Come down to the hospital and I’ll explain things, we can’t talk over the phone like this.”

 

Akira is even more distracted now as his thoughts gravitate to Ryo and what had happened last night. Had any of that been real? It felt like just another bad dream but surely it must be real… Ryo got hurt by something.

---

Ryo watches the footage on his laptop screen again, and again, and again. Akira’s body changes in an instant, a demon rips out of him and begins his carnage. He’s so lucky to have remembered the camcorder in his pocket, although the microphone had been broken in his tumble, he still had the footage. Real demonic possession, not that cheesy shit from the movies either. Of course he couldn’t use this footage to prove the existence of demons, he would need more videos, more evidence to stack up. 

 

The knock on his door makes him close his laptop and set it aside on the hospital bed, “Come in!” When he had expected a nurse instead in strides Akira— he’s taller, leaner, hands shoved into his jean pockets and shoulders slumped forward. His face lights up upon seeing Ryo, huge sparkling grin and wide puppy-dog eyes. Cute. 

 

“Ryo!!” Akira holds his arms out and the hug he’s pulled up into knocks the wind out of his lungs, Akira’s hands hold around his back and his much stronger arms squeeze slightly. Ryo’s face gets shoved into his collar, and Akira’s neck is stockier- more full now and his collarbones and adam’s apple are defined and angular, same as his jaw. “I was so worried.” The breath puffs across the top of his blonde hair and Ryo can’t suppress the smile it brings to his face. 

 

“I told you not to worry,” He smooths a hand down Akira’s back and gives it a pat to signal to let go. The taller man lets go and sits in the chair next to the bed, “How do you feel?” 

 

“I should be asking you that.” 

 

“I told you, I’m fine.” Ryo juts his chin out, “Tell me what it feels like.” Akira breaks their eye contact and turns his eyes to the floor, Ryo waits patiently for him to answer. 

 

“It’s like… My head is too full, I can hear everything, I can hear your organs and blood— I can feel it.” His entire face is obscured as he hangs his head in his hands, sucking in a tight breath, “And when I look at people it’s… I don’t want to do those things to them, Ryo.” And how small and broken does he sound now, Ryo studies his childhood friend and frowns. 

 

“I’m sorry. This is all my fault, you’re my best friend and I— I ruined you. You’re hurting because of me.” 

 

Akira shakes his head in his hands and his shoulders shake, “No… No, I agreed to do this. I just didn't think it’d be so…” He trails off in thought and shrugs, wiping his face and letting his hands fall again. “It’s all just so jumbled up in here..” He gestures to his head and when he lifts his eyes again they’re glossy with unshed tears. “What happened?” 

 

And Ryo tells him.

---

 

 

Ryo holds the camcorder in one hand, sliding against the club wall to avoid the mess and violence as he captures as much as he can. Bodies stretch and transform to disgusting creatures, people scream and beg as they’re eaten and killed. Blood splatters everywhere— all he can smell is the metallic blood and sulphur. He remembers calling out, but not the words he spoke… 

 

A flying creature screeches, making his eardrums ring so fiercely he drops the camera to cover both his ears. Then the black bird is swooping down towards him and he has little time to react. He reaches into his coat and yanks out his handgun, furing it accurately and as quickly as he can. The beast snarls and its flight is cut short, it falls and crashes into some stage lights. They spark and follow the demon on its trajectory straight for him. He lunges to avoid the impact, but is far too slow and his head bangs against the hard concrete floor as he falls, making things spin and go black for a while.

 

Ryo’s entire bottom half is crushed beneath the heaving form above him. He come to and tries to get his arms free and only manages one— not the one with his gun unfortunately, and he braces his slick bloodied hand on the inky feathers and pushes as hard as he can. He grunts with the effort, managing just the slightest movement upwards and then his palm slips from the smooth feathers and the crack of his ribs is audible. The blonde cries out in pain, unable to draw in much air now that his lungs are constricted by the pressure and he pants shallowly and quickly. He can feel the blood pouring from his head and legs- the way his abdomen stabs with sharp blinding pain from his ribs, he’s going to bleed out before anything else or pass out from the pain. 

 

“Amon! It’s Amon!!” Why does that sound so familiar? His head aches too much to think. Ryo keeps trying to push the demon off and turns his head to the side with some effort back to the commotion. Akira is standing there, his hands are much bigger and clawed and he holds open the mouth of a slithering snake-like devil wide open. Spittle and blood flick out at him and with a satisfied smirk and growl he rips the creature clean in half, opening his mouth as yellowing blood rains down. 

 

Akira moves too fast , trying to keep track of him makes Ryo even dizzier. He bites into the jugular of one demon and tears through them, pouncing on another to claw through their chest and pull out their beating heart to squeeze slowly and watch ooze with globs of thick rotting ichor. 

 

Ryo’s attention is drawn back to the bird-like demon on top of him by one of its large wings twitching. Oh God- It twitches again, this time more pronounced and Ryo starts to panic, squirming and gritting his teeth as he tries to push and draw his legs up. He’s not strong enough, this thing is easily the size of a horse and even larger still with the wingspan added. Shoulders spasm and with a shuddering breath the demon awakens, it’s huge beaked head lifting and instantly turning to Ryo’s tiny form. It chitters with laughter, a haunting sound like a human and animal combined, and Ryo squeezes his eyes shut. If he’s going to be eaten he at least doesn’t need to see something horrible in his last moments. 

 

A whooshing of air passes quickly and the weight is off in an instant, Ryo heaves in air and his eyes fly open to watch Akira pounce onto the elongated neck of the bird and topple it over. Leathery bat-like wings stick out from Akira’s gray back, a thick tail swishes through the air as he struggles with the monster. His claws dig into its neck, causing it to squeal and thrash wildly, trying to roll with Akira’s hulking body to get the upper hand. After some struggle the bird goes still with one final loud crack , Akira sits up and out of his gaping maw drops a hunk of spurting flesh onto the bleeding out corpse at his feet. Not feet anymore— they’re more like paws on a large lion with downy black fur covering his thighs and up to his waistline. His body is soaked in gore and pieces of flesh that Ryo can’t quite identify, and his face… 

 

Akira’s eyes are glowing like a predator in the dim light, a pale yellow as they stare unblinking at Ryo on the floor still. Only a few meters away the devil heaves and pants from his effort, mouth open and exposing those teeth that could rip through flesh and bone like nothing. Ryo blinks and jumps when Akira’s new body is leaned down in front of him, sniffing the air wildly and growling, he holds one hand on his bleeding abdomen with a wince and holds out his other hand to keep Akira from moving closer. It doesn’t do much, all Akira does is look down at the offending appendage and tilts his head like a confused puppy. 

 

“A-Akira… Easy. It’s me.” Those unnaturally colored eyes flick back up and he crawls closer, his palm and fingers flex against the hulking chest as it presses down on him. “ Akira— What are you-?” The growl rumbling out of his chest is felt all the way up Ryo’s arm and down through his bones, he clamps his mouth shut so quickly his teeth chatter. Akira is so near he can’t see his face any longer without looking up, but before he can he feels the hot puff of air on his forehead, making his hair fly to the side. And then Akira is sniffing him , nose buried in his hair. Ryo sits there and lets him, not that he can do much else pinned like this. 

 

It only lasts a few short seconds and Akira is springing up, Ryo might be imagining things but he swears he can hear purring. “You done? I could use a hand,” He holds out his hand and wiggles it, Akira smacks it away and kneels down to instead scoop him up with an arm under his legs and back. “Be careful-“ 

 

“ Shut up.” Since when did Akira cop an attitude? Or had his voice become so gravely and rich? 

 

“Grab the camera.” Ryo scowls up at him and Akira scowls back, they have a silent standoff before the demon grunts and adjusts Ryo to one arm so he can lean down and grab the camcorder from a sticky puddle. He shakes it to try and clean it and gives it to Ryo’s waiting hands. “Good.” 

---

 

“—And then you brought me to the hospital. You saved all those people at the sabbath, Akira.” Ryo leaves out the whole sniffing thing . He didn’t want to embarrass Akira or freak him out even more if he really didn’t remember the entire exchange. Maybe it hadn’t happened at all? Ryo had been on those drugs and drank and… It wasn’t important either way. 

 

“I… There were people I saved?” 

 

“Yes, because of you some people got to escape. They should consider themselves very lucky.” Akira nods solemnly and wipes at his face again, sighing and leaning back in his chair to look up at Ryo. “You took dominion over an ageless beast, your heart- your will, is strong , Akira.” 

 

“How can I… help people like this? I feel like… like a monster.” 

 

“You may feel like one but you’re something even beyond that.. . A demon with a human soul.” Ryo has to contain his excitement, “You can harness that raw power and we can destroy all the other devils before they destroy us. It’s exactly what happened at the sabbath.” 

 

“I killed all those… things?” 

 

“You were unstoppable.” 

Notes:

this fic is gonna have a lot of amon flashbacks bc i love ryo being extremely unsettling and whack as satan

he’s my bbygirl <33

Chapter 3: Psalms

Summary:

Akira starts acting weird(er?) and Miki takes notice. Ryo gets out of the hospital. And Akira’s parents find an interesting discovery.

 

Akira’s stomach growls loudly, interrupting his homework at his desk and he gives an elongated sigh, tilting the chair back and stretching his arms high above his head. The Makimuras ate way too many vegetables and rice, it was almost as if he hadn’t eaten anything at all for dinner by the way his body was acting. 

 

Your appetite will increase, there’s something much larger inside you burning all those calories now. Keep it fed. Ryo’s words echo in his head and Akira stands to do just that. Surely there’s something in the fridge, and it’s so late now nobody should be awake… He listens closely, and the only sound he can hear other than the breeze of the night is Miki’s nails tapping on her phone screen as she texts. Akira makes up his mind, throwing on a sweatshirt and making his way down the several flights of stairs. 

 

Before he would’ve had to flick the light on, but now everything is clear as daylight and Akira is still not used to the oddity of it all. He pads across the cool tiled floor and swings open the fridge to inspect the contents, his eyes adjust to the light inside without any trouble and he scans over the food inside. 

 

He rummages around, pushing things aside and sniffing the air to seek out any kind of meat. Nothing in the fridge, he opens the freezer door instead, the icy air cools his heated skin and calms his frenzied searching. Akira zones in on the unopened bag of frozen dino-shaped chicken nuggets and snatches it, surely Taro wouldn’t mind if he had a few . 

 

It’s a jarring experience when Akira opens the box, intending fully to cook his meal, but his stomach growls insistently and he pulls the clear plastic bag out from the cardboard. He rips it open at the top and tilts his head back to dump the entire bag into his opened mouth. It’s extremely cold, and hard, and crunchy, but he swallows his big mouthful and feels fuller. Not full enough. But better…

 

Akira turns towards the freezer and wads up the plastic bag to toss over his shoulder carelessly. He sniffs the air again and begins shoving both hands into the freezer to locate something else to eat. His whole upper half is practically inside the icebox, and he runs so hot now that it really does feel nice to be chilled. He begins ripping into every meat package he can find in the freezer, at first calmly with his hands and by the third raw steak he’s opening the packaging with his teeth, hunched over and snarling in the center of the kitchen. It’s disgusting— The blood seeping from the hunk of meat in his mouth and dripping down his hands and arms and to the floor. It would be much better if it was hot and pulsing blood, a squirming living creature begging in his mouth— What. 

 

His mouth hangs open with the last bits of steak and drool dripping out, Akira then spits on the floor and starts wiping at his tongue in disgust. Raw meat?! He gags at the mess on the floor and turns away, managing to shut the freezer door with a shaky swipe of his hand. The next few minutes are filled with him bagging up the mess he made into the trash, and then he drops to his hands and knees with a paper towel roll and a spray bottle of cleaner to erase the evidence. His sweatshirt is filthy and soaked with melted ice and meat juices so he chucks it off and wads it up to throw in the wash later. 

 

By the end the trash can is full, and it’s his job anyways to take the trash out, so he ties the bag up and slips on a pair of his shoes to go out the side door. Somewhere along the way he forgets he was attempting to be quiet and slams the door on his return, shucking off his shoes and washing his hands quickly in the kitchen sink. 

 

The walk to the stairs is quick, but as he reaches the top he sees Miki’s door open— and her head peeks out with light spilling from her room to flood the hallway. “What’re you doing?” She asks, her volume barely considered a whisper. 

 

“Nothing,” Akira shrugs and pauses at the top of the steps, hoping to God that he sounds convincing. Miki’s arched eyebrow says otherwise, “I was just taking the trash out.” 

 

“At midnight?” They both stare at each other, Miki trying to obviously urge the truth from him and Akira shifts restlessly on his feet. 

 

“ Yes ?” 

 

“Are you alright? Seriously… You’ve been acting so weird since the other night.” Miki’s door opens more and he can see half her body now— wearing a big baggy t-shirt and no fucking pants , only her little bowed panties covered by the edge of the hanging shirt. Her legs are muscled and toned from running, so smooth and pale looking. His teeth could tear through the muscle and sinew— Akira feels disgusted just making the observation and averts his eyes to the carpet. “Akira?” 

 

“I’m fine, just tired. Goodnight, Miki.” He knows that he isn’t convincing her at all, he can’t see her face but can feel the disappointment radiating off her. Before she can question him further he makes up the next flight of stairs, absolutely not running from his adoptive sister. 

 

“Goodnight…?” He breathes finally when her door clicks shut and he can’t smell the clean soap clinging to her clear skin and silky hair. 

 

Akira slumps against his own bedroom door, breathing much too quickly, his entire body shakes and he wraps his arms around himself and draws his knees in close once he makes it on the ground. If he hadn’t just eaten… What would he have done? Would he have lunged at Miki? Below him he hears the girl flop back onto her bed, the sigh she lets out while adjusting her blankets- He covers his ears with his hands and bites down hard on his tongue until he tastes the familiar coppery tang of his own blood. 

 

How pathetic. The guttural noise in his mind makes his eyes fly open and scan across the room wildly as if to see who was speaking. Nobody is there, only Akira sitting on his dark bedroom floor in a fetal position. He presses his hands into his ears as hard as he is willing, closing his eyes tightly again. He’s panting and before he knows it there’s wet hot tears running down his cheeks, he sobs into his knee to silence himself. Truly pathetic. 

---

Reijiro Fudo fastens the climbing harness around his waist at the edge of the chasm. Overnight there was a rock slide at the digsite, exposing a cavern in the side of the mountain face previously unexplored. He looks to his wife, Kaori, her hair is tied back and she is already outfitted in her climbing gear. She pushes her glasses up and dials the number on her phone again, they both stand and listen to the ringing drone on. 

 

“Ryo said he’d be busy and probably wouldn’t answer,” He supplies, looping the rope through the holds of his harness and finishing adding the rest of the equipment. 

 

“This is important! He should be here- They should both be here for this!” Kaori groans as the answering machine sounds up again, “I’m leaving a message this time.” Reijiro smiles at his wife’s stubbornness, she always got so excited about discovery. 

 

“Hi, Professor Asuka, it’s Kaori down at the digsite. I’m sure you heard about the landslide on the News, it hit us over here too. Nothing is damaged that we’ve seen and the site is preserved, but a new cavern has opened in the cliff face and we’re about to see what's inside.” She shifts from foot to foot, “I’ll give you another call when we’re done, if you get my message before then you should come on down yourself and we can get some equipment on you too, talk to you soon.” Kaori shoves her phone in her pocket and puts on her helmet, clicking and tightening the chinstrap. 

 

“Ladies first,” He gestures, holding the repelling rope out to her, she snatches it with a cheeky look. 

 

“And they say chivalry is dead.” 

 

Their descent into the cavern is slow and careful, both equipped with headlamps and handheld flashlights to see in the darkness. It goes down at a steep angle, nearly vertical and the shoot is as wide as a bus. It takes awhile to reach a stopping point, this cave is much deeper than any of the others they had found in the area, and looking back upwards the sunlight doesn’t even reach them here. 

 

Reijiro whistles into the black pit, listening to the haunting echo that repeats softly. The room they’re in is vast and has a few offshoots to the sides, there is no far wall and instead a steep dropoff into a fissure. Kaori sets glowing markers in the ground, marking the area and especially the drop off to make it more visible. She peers over the edge and the fissure looks too tight as it goes further down to fit even her small body. 

 

“ Kaaaoorii—“ The hoarse whisper she hears close to the shell of her ear makes her nearly jump and she whips around to see… Nothing. It wasn’t Reijiro’s voice, she knew that he would’ve never scared her like that while she was leaning over a drop off. 

 

“You okay?” He’s looking at her now, headlamp covered with his hand to dim it and not blind her. She composes herself with a gulp of air, nodding and waving him off. 

 

“Peachy… slipped a little and scared myself.” 

 

“Well get away from the edge.” He offers a hand and helps pull her over to more solid footing. 

 

“Let’s try one of those,” She shines her flashlight at the two seperate cave mouths, one wide and elongated and the other low and cramped looking. “The big one first?” Reijiro hums in agreement and he leads the way, offering his hand again when needed for the rough terrain. 

 

For the most part they walk at a slight decline, similar to a wheelchair ramp, and there are only a few small drops— a foot or two at most, but the ground is uneven and smooth, like a river once ran here. Iron deposits line the walls and sparkle burgundy in the beams of light. As they get deeper they both can hear the faint trickle of liquid, dripping and echoing in the tunnel, likely creating stalactites. The walls twist in swirling natural shapes, and the tunnel extends for easily a mile or over once they reach the end. 

 

Reijiro shines his flashlight ahead for more visibility and the odd shaped chamber is bigger than the last, with stalactites hanging from the ceiling with odd faceted crystals. The natural formations are unlike crystals he’s seen before- these shine like an oil slick and kaleidoscope on a deep midnight background. The dripping of water down the sides makes the cave shine and reflect the light faintly across the cavern. 

 

“What’s this?” He turns to his wife, she’s about twenty feet away and inspecting an extremely large crystal embedded in the rock wall several feet ahead. She trails her beam of light over the edges and then settles on the ground in front of it. There are cracked bowls and ceramic, and other offerings she can’t make out so she approaches. 

 

“I’m gonna take pictures, let’s not move anything yet.” He calls to her and she shoots a thumbs-up his way while kneeling down to look at the debris more closely. Reijiro opens a velcro pocket and brings out his cellphone, holding the flashlight in one hand to point in the directions of the odd crystals and rocks and his phone in the other to snap a few photos. 

 

“Come here and take a picture of this-“ He turns and wanders over to the area Kaori is inspecting. The pile of objects is more clear now, so he snaps a quick picture of the jewelry, painted ceramic, and glinting coins in the dirt. 

 

His eyes focus on the crystal and he snaps a quick photo, putting his phone back into his pocket so he can look closer, “It’s like… It looks like there’s something inside- See how dark the center is?” He points to the faint outline and Kaori’s eyes follow. 

 

Her hand reaches forward and touches the cool gem, running the pads of her fingers across the smooth surface. “What do you think it could be?” As if the very core of the Earth was answering her question the crystal suddenly cracks where her hand had touched.

 

Hissing steam erupts from the fracture and they both stumble back, coughing and waving the fog away from their faces. The scent is abhorrent and stomach-churning, like something’s been rotting away in there for God knows how long. Kaori covers her nose and mouth with a gag, and Reijiro waves at the smoke frantically to try and see the few feet in front of them to the crystal. A shatter reverberates through the chamber, and then another, and another— something is emerging from it like a cocoon. 

---

 

“You seriously think you’re driving with an aircast on your foot?” Akira stares at Ryo, and Ryo glares back at him, holding out his hand expectantly for his car keys as they stand in the hospital parking lot. Only two days after the sabbath and Ryo was discharged, his midsection was bandaged and on his right foot he had an aircast to protect his injured ankle. Under his left arm is a crutch he’s only been using correctly half of the time, Akira had to keep chiding him to correct his stride. 

 

“I don’t think I am. I know I am.” He makes a lunge for the keys but Akira is too fast now, and too tall, he simply holds them higher above his head with a smirk. “Akira, really?” 

 

“Why can’t I drive? I drove it here from that creepy ass church.” Akira eyes him and his tensed up form slacks, “I don’t want you to hurt your ankle more.. So, just let me.” Ryo can’t bear the softness in his voice, or how his eyebrows upturn and he looks almost pleading, so he turns his head away. 

 

“Fine…” He isn’t pouting, Ryo Asuka doesn’t pout like a petulant brat, it only entirely looks like he is, “Take this then.” The crutch is shoved into Akira’s waiting hands and he places it in the backseat, then opens the passenger door for Ryo. It’s unnecessary, and neither of them say anything about it as they drive out of the hospital and onto the road. 

 

Akira is, as expected, a good driver. He’s far more careful than Ryo ever has been behind the wheel; he takes his turns slow, signals every turn and lane switch, and keeps a cautious distance from any other vehicles. Perhaps it’s only because he’s driving a car that isn’t his own, a very expensive car at that— Not that Ryo would care if Akira wrecked it, he had insurance, and too much money now that his father was gone. 

 

“Are you adjusting to it okay?” It’s unspoken in Ryo’s question, but Akira knows exactly what he’s asking about… The demon. 

 

“Yeah, the sensitive hearing isn’t so bad now. I’ve gotten used to it… And seeing in the dark is kinda cool, I guess...” What he wasn’t used to was waking up in a pile of sweaty fur every morning, ripping into a month full of freezer-burnt groceries as a midnight snack, and staring at his baby sister like she was a prime rib. He must be making some sort of face because he catches the frown his answer elicits from the corner of his eye. 

 

“You’re not telling me everything. Did something happen?” Ryo knew all his tells by now. It wasn’t fair really. “Akira, we can’t keep secrets from each other. It’s far too late for that.”

 

Akira flexes his grip on the steering wheel, knowing that Ryo was correct. Hell- he was always correct. “I know… I know. Sorry— Everything is just… so weird now. It’s hard to explain.” 

 

“Take your time then. You know you can tell me anything,” He knows how true those words are, Ryo was never phased by anything. 

 

“Thanks..” The devilman lets out an elongated sigh, glancing at the directions supplied by Ryo’s cellphone as a quick distraction, “I think I’m letting it out when I’m asleep— No not like I’m sleepwalking or like… Anything like that... I think I have his dreams… Or he’s doing something to my dreams.” By the end he’s trailing off, a little spaced out from the recollection. “I wake up with fur and scratch marks in my sheets.” 

 

“ Oh? ” And he certainly has caught Ryo’s attention with that, “What have you been dreaming about?” 

 

Akira describes what vague details he can recollect. The lush green leaves and life surrounding him, the curiosity and hunger he felt, the smell of sweetness and blood— And of the arm grabbing him and jolting him awake. He does remember how beautiful the body he had been admiring was, with long blonde hair and piercing eyes, but keeps the description vague at first. 

 

“Do you think demons can be pretty?” 

 

“Pretty?” Ryo repeats with an incredulous look. 

 

“There was a pretty one in my dream. Almost looked human besides all the…” He gestures vaguely with a hand, “—Glowy-ness.” 

 

“Hmm. Maybe there are then… You’ll tell me if you have any other odd dreams, yes?” 

 

Akira nods and that seems to placate Ryo for now, the rest of their drive is short and filled with the low sound of the radio turned down. Ryo directs him to the parking garage attached to the building, and he parks in the designated spot, one right next to the entrance. The brunette helps Ryo out, handing him his crutch and he follows behind him as they enter the lobby of the ornate building. 

 

“It should be the top floor—“ 

 

“You don’t know?” 

 

Ryo points at the keys in Akira’s hand and he thumbs through the ring to find the key labeled with APT 666. “I had my father’s secretary find a place… Well, my secretary now I guess.” Akira is sure the last part wasn’t meant to be heard from how Ryo mutters it, as if he’s reminding himself of what happened. “She’s nice, you might remember her. Miss Jenny? She would babysit us after..?” 

 

After Ryo’s mother passed. Akira jumps to pull the subject away from that memory.  “She had red hair right?”

 

“Yeah,” And the faint smile Ryo gives makes Akira’s heart swell. He remembers being dropped off at Ryo’s house because his parents would be working, they’d chase the dog around the big yard, play pretend in the seemingly endless garden, and at the end of it all there was a soft spoken woman with short blazing hair. She would kiss their scraped knees, brush their wild hair out of their faces and make them lunch, always treating them so tenderly, as if she was their own mother. 

 

They stand side by side in the elevator and Ryo presses the button for the top floor, the doors close and the lift begins moving. “Does she still make those cookies?” And the two men share a collaborative smile, now boys again as they reminisce. How many times had they hatched an elaborate plan to foil Miss Jenny and her ‘no cookies until after dinner’ rule? Too many to count, and the gooey chocolate chip bounty was always worth the disappointed look anyways.

 

“Mmhm. Hasn’t in awhile, but you could ask her to. She’s probably still here.” The elevator dings and the pair head down the hallway, the only door is the one matching the key. Akira offers it to Ryo and he turns it in the lock. 

 

The inside of Ryo’s apartment is cavernous, with huge floor to ceiling windows that look out to the sea of skyscrapers and such tall ceilings that Akira wonders how anybody changes the damn light bulbs. Everything is stark white and a calm gray color, and once they get further inside Akira can now see the pile of boxes in the corner behind the white couch, and the familiar woman who’s reaching into said boxes. 

 

She looks up and the permanent smile on her face softens, her makeup caked eyes shifting from Ryo to Akira and then back to Ryo. 

 

“Jenny, you remember Akira,” He nudges Akira in the ribs and he quickly lifts a hand to wave. 

 

“Akira Fudo. Of course,” Jenny sets whatever she had been pulling out back into the box, straightening herself up. Akira is practically giddy when she approaches and opens her arms, to which he immediately hugs her. Years ago his face would be shoved into her stomach but now he’s easily a head taller than her, and when she pulls back she has to turn her head up, “It’s nice to see you all grown up.”

 

He shrugs his shoulders indifferently, unable to suppress his toothy grin. “It’s good to see you too, Ms. Jenny.” She has changed somewhat from his memory, her face is less full and older looking, and she wears more makeup than he recalls, and is dressed smartly rather than how she used to casually dress when taking care of children. And now as a man he takes notice of features he had previously ignored; her wide hips and full mouth covered in plush lipstick, how her chest is full and her cleavage peeks from the top of her blouse. He’s hyper aware of his hands still around her back and the texture of the expensive dress shirt, Akira pulls them back ashamed and forces them into his pockets. 

 

“Ryo, I picked up the extra cell phone you asked for.” Jenny gestures to the brand new box on the kitchen counter.

 

“Thank you.” And Ryo is abandoning his crutch against the wall to walk into the kitchen. Akira follows awkwardly. “Here, set it up and I’ll put my number in it.” The white rectangular box is held out towards Akira, and he looks at it quizzically before he understands. 

 

“Ryo—! I can’t accept something this expensive-“ 

 

His eyes roll and he thrusts the box at Akira again insistently, “It’s a gift, you need a phone anyways. So you can stop using Miki’s.” When he doesn’t take his hands out of his pockets Ryo pushes the edge of the box against his chest, “Then you can talk to me whenever you like.” 

 

Akira chews on his bottom lip and then snatches the box, “Thanks.” And he means it genuinely, however Ryo just brushes him off. 

 

“Don’t mention it.” 

 

Sitting at one of the plush stools at the counter, Akira begins to open the box and pulls out the brand new phone. It’s sleek and black all over, and inside the box is a new charger and little pamphlet with instructions in varying languages. Ryo shambles up into the seat next to him and occasionally aids Akira in his task, explaining how to use the phone. 

 

Ryo’s leaning so close their shoulders bump, and just the slight touch sends a pleasant buzz through Akira. “Here, let me see.” And one of those smooth pale hands slips along his wrist and fingers, replacing one of Akira’s hands on the phone so he can type. Their fingers brush along the back, Ryo’s overlapping his own. Akira bites the inside of his cheek, and Ryo puts his contact information in, signing his name with a little smiley face. The touch is gone too soon, but he stays pressed against his side to peer at the screen. “There you go.” 

 

The blonde’s hands had always been soft and gentle with Akira, even his words and tone were softer than what he spoke to Jenny. Back when they were smaller Ryo would wipe his tears by cupping his face and using the edge of his sleeve, uncaring of the snotty smear it would leave. His words were always blunt, but not unkind, never unkind to Akira… And now… 

 

It was almost the same, Akira supposed, but they were both adults now. The lingering feeling of those cool fingers ghosts across his skin, he craves the soothe of them on his nearly scorching skin. He always ran so hot now, an eternal flame within him that was stocked by even just the thought of being touched or of ogling at an expanse of tantalizing skin. Ryo’s face has filled out nicely with time, with his long full eyelashes and high cheekbones and pouty pale rose lips— 

 

Akira stops that train of thought dead in its tracks, feeling a flush under his neck. Thinking about everyone like this was already weighing on him, he had to be hyper vigilant at every waking moment to ensure he wouldn’t…wouldn’t… Ugh. His brain betrays him by reminding him of his dream the other night, of the pliant looking skin and waving golden locks, intensely blinding eyes and the burning rattle of chains. It’s like he can feel the strands of silken hair under his hands if he focuses enough.

 

“Have you eaten yet?” Ryo’s inquiry crashes through his fantasies and he is maybe too quick to respond by shaking his head rapidly. The shorter of them must think it’s just excitement for the promise of food because he smiles easily at Akira, “Here then, you order something. Your pick,” And he offers his own white phone out to Akira.

 

It’s a very welcome distraction, at the mention of food the devilman can feel a deeply rooted grumbling begin in his stomach. He takes the device to occupy himself again. 

---

“ Kaaorii— It’s only me, come on out…” The raspy moaning mocking her husband’s voice makes Kaori bite into her own tongue, whimpering and covering her mouth to try and silence her hyperventilating and cries. She can hear whatever it is out there moving around, hoarse crying of different voices and octaves, muttering pleas she can’t decipher. 

 

The crystal had opened, and in the smoky haze she couldn’t see what happened… She had only heard Reijiro’s wailing scream, a wet snapping and distinct chomp , and had dropped her flashlight and ran. In her disorientation and panic she ran further into the cave rather than back towards the entrance, and now the creature was slinking between her and escape. Her back digs into the stone wall behind her where she’s pressed into the crevice, her left hand cupped over her headlamp and right over her mouth. Fat tears roll down her fingers and cheeks, her breathing is labored and her adrenaline makes her eyes dart about in the darkness. Kaori’s body is small and she manages to wedge herself further in the outcropping she’s ducked behind, shaking uncontrollably. 

 

“ Please honey— It’s so dark… Where are you?” The voice is closer, and she can hear the combined cries of what sounds like multiple people— children weeping for their mothers, men begging to be killed as they scream in agony, haunting sobs of things that should no longer be alive. 

 

Her eyes close like she can block out the entire experience from happening, but she can’t, the noises around her echo and repeat in the cave, mocking her. This isn’t real. It isn’t happening. None of this can be real. The only thing she can think of is to pray, so she does frantically in her head. Repeating the prayer she’s heard hundreds of times. 

 

The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want. He makes me lie down in green pastures;

he leads me beside still waters;

he restores my soul.

 

Footsteps approach her hiding spot, “ Come on out…” 

 

He leads me in right paths for his name’s sake.

Even though I walk through the valley

of the shadow of death,

I fear no evil;

for you are with me;

your rod and your staff–they comfort me.

 

“ Oh… Sweet sweet Kaori…” 

 

You prepare a table before me

in the presence of my enemies;

you anoint my head with oil;

my cup overflows.

Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me

all the days of my life,

 

A sharp iron-y smell hits her nose.

 

And I shall dwell in the house of the Lord— She opens her eyes, and there in the darkness… too many pairs of glowing irises stare directly back at her. 

Notes:

The prayer mentioned is Psalms 23:1-6

Jenny is mother. She’s gonna bake cookies and everything will be fine guys I SWEAR. >:3c

On another note I just watched Amon Apocalypse of Devilman and nobody was gonna tell me how absolutely scrumptious he is????? It’s on ytube if you haven’t seen it, highly recommend. Ryo wears a slutty little choker 😮💨

Chapter 4: Absence of Light

Summary:

Akira and Ryo go demon hunting.

Notes:

i got a job and got rlly busy guys but lmao were back and the next chapter will be posted soon xoxo

Ryo barely eats the meal they order, he’s too busy on his laptop, and when he isn’t scouring over police records he’s looking over at Akira. The way he devours food should be gross, but Ryo can’t help but watch and picture true flesh under his bite. Flesh pulsing with blood and ichor, squirming with life, and Akira is picturing it too no doubt. He snarls and tears into the meat before him, long having abandoned his utensils in favor of his hands and sharpening teeth. There’s a glazed over yellow tint to his irises, and he’s so focused on the meal in front of him that he doesn’t seem to notice- or care about Ryo’s staring. The changes in Akira’s demeanor and body are quite visible to anyone who knew him before. It’s almost hard to imagine Akira from before eating like this, like a starved animal eating after hibernation. 

 

Akira licks the bones from his meal clean, making an obscene show of slurping and gnawing on the nearly pristine white surface of the bone to get every last bit. He discards the remnants into his plate and begins to lick every finger on both hands spotless. The whole show is obscene and Ryo can’t tear his eyes away from Akira’s tan skin disappearing into his mouth, past sharp teeth and into his mouth. Something stirs deep inside Ryo as he watches, down in the pit of his stomach like the coals of a fire long burnt out but now it ignites again. Before he can dwell on the feeling Akira is done and wipes his hands and mouth with a napkin, so Ryo turns to his laptop instead. 

 

On his screen is a map of the city, and a list of violent crimes and murders within. There are small clusters of dots he’s marked with these incidents, and now looking at the map he can record these areas or even look at local business and street cameras to see any unusual activity. He had already taken the liberty of letting himself into the local police databanks, the cameras surely wouldn’t be much harder. 

 

”You’ve barely touched your food,” Akira looms closer on the couch and it makes Ryo shift slightly. 

 

“Help yourself.” He waves the other man off and that just makes Akira grab his plate from the coffee table and scoop up a bite of his food, and instead of eating it the fork is suddenly in Ryo’s face. 

 

“You’ll waste away into nothing at this rate, open up!” The grin on Akira’s face is near contagious, and Ryo is powerless to ever deny Akira a simple request so he opens his mouth. 

 

A wash of deja vu takes Ryo over but only just a moment-

 

“You must eat.” A clawed hand drips with the yellow blood seeping from the chunk of demon flesh it carries. The hulking red demon crouches down and his face and body is covered with the same blood- a body lays behind at their feet. “Open up.” 

 

And he does, he opens his mouth and bites into the offered flesh and blood, looking past it to that all too familiar gaze. A pleased purr seems to come from the demon when he rips the flesh with his own teeth. 

 

Just as quickly as the vision appeared it is gone and Ryo is looking at Akira’s goofy grin as he brings up another bite of food on his fork and the blonde accepts it without fuss. He steals the next bite and then continues to feed Ryo.

 

Through mouthfuls of food Akira stops enough to ask, “So what’s with the map?” He gestures with the fork. 

 

“It’s a map of Tokyo, I’ve marked places where we should go hunting for demons.” Ryo supplies, zooming in on an area not far from his apartment, only a few blocks away. “This is the most recent sighting, the apartment has had a number of disappearances.” 

 

“Hm, and what’s the plan if we find a demon?” 

 

Ryo shrugs his shoulders, “Kill it before it kills us.”

 

____

 

“Can you— thank you.” Ryo takes the offered crutch from Akira with a smile, and their hands join as Akira pulls him out of the passenger seat of the car to stand. His hands are almost too warm, and the close proximity of Akira radiates heat and cuts through the cold night air, “Open the trunk for me.” Akira’s excited grin is contagious, his hand slips from Ryo’s and he turns to bound behind the fancy white car. 

 

The trunk pops open and Ryo limps back there to unzip the large black duffle bag within. Akira gasps at the sight of the large rifle, and shotgun, and several pistols and various ammunitions. There’s even a large sheathed hunting knife that Ryo grabs and shoves into his coat. 

 

“How did you even get this stuff?”

 

“You can get anything with enough money.” Ryo grabs a pistol, sliding the clip out to ensure it’s loaded before slamming it back in the chamber. He puts the pistol in a concealed holster by his ribs on the side of his crutch so his free hand is able to pull it free. He then grabs the shotgun since they’ll be in close quarters in the apartment, and pockets a few shells and an additional clip of ammo. 

 

“Ryo… You might get hurt, maybe you should-“ 

 

The cha-chunk of the shotgun cocking into place cuts Akira off and Ryo turns to face him as his eyes turn to slits and his brows narrow just slightly, “Stay put?” Akira’s head nods timidly. “I don’t think so. I can’t let you run around on your own, unsupervised. Have you transformed since that first time?” 

 

“Well— No- But—“ 

 

“Then I’m coming with you. I thought we agreed to do this together, Akira.” The audacity of Akira to think he can do something like this by himself. He’s soft, not even able to put a sickly dying kitten out of its misery, so how does he think he can do this on his own? What if the demon appeals to his weak side and tricks him? Ryo will not allow that to happen.

 

“We did! I just don’t want you to hurt your leg more.” Akira’s dark brown eyes almost look like they did before all this, innocent and glassy, like a poor dejected puppy. “What if— if y-you-“ There’s already tears threatening to fall and he sniffles pathetically. Ryo lets out a sigh and makes a conscious effort to soften his demeanor. 

 

Ryo tucks the shotgun under his coat, freeing up his hand to reach for Akira’s shoulder and pull him close for a hug. A sob heaves out of Akira and he slumps into Ryo, and the blonde didn’t realize how scared Akira actually was. He smooths his hand down his shoulder and his shaking back, shushing the rather large man as he cries. “It’s okay, Akira. Shhh- I’m fine.” 

 

It only takes a minute and his crying is done, he pulls away with a sniffle, wet tear tracks down his dark cheeks. Ryo tucks the cuff of his coat under his fingers to hold it tight and reaches up to wipe his face. It makes the corners of Akira’s mouth twitch up, and he gives a wet laugh, “Sorry- I just thought last time you might’ve…” He might have died. 

 

“Everyone dies someday, Akira.” Ryo’s voice is gentle despite his harsh words. “Let’s make sure it isn’t today for either of us, okay?” He wipes a last stray tear down his cheek and Akira nods with another sniffle. The blonde is positive this conversation isn’t over, as the next time he gets hurt he’ll never hear the end of it. “Let’s go.”

 

The trunk of the car is slammed shut, and Ryo pockets the keys away. They parked down an alleyway adjacent to the apartment building the most recent incident has occurred in; a murder scene where the only part left of the victim was half a leg and a pool of blood. Ryo leads the way back out the alley and towards the door of the building. It isn’t even locked as he pushes it open, Akira stops Ryo by grabbing his elbow, slipping past him to enter first. 

 

“What apartment number?” 

 

“Thirteen.” Ryo follows Akira down the grimey hallway, the old yellow wallpaper peels in places, exposing the cracked plaster beneath. The carpet is stained from years of foot traffic, the very edges by the walls lighter than the center of the hall. They pass by seven doors, all numbered 1-7, and at the end of the hallway is a staircase they begin to ascend. 

 

“Here—“ Akira offers his arm after the first few steps and Ryo doesn’t hesitate to hold onto him. Trying to walk up the stairs with the crutch is cumbersome, but Akira’s assistance makes it much easier. It’s a slow trudge up the steps, and once reaching the top Akira doesn’t move away, instead staying put for Ryo to lean on. 

 

They both can see their destination towards the end of the hallway, the apartment door is taped over with yellow police tape and as they get closer Ryo can see the long sticker over the edge of the door and doorframe stating the room had been sealed for evidence. Once they reach the door, number thirteen, Ryo tries the doorknob and is unsurprised when it doesn’t budge at all. He takes a single step back and looks to his companion. 

 

“Think you can open it?” And the request certainly improves Akira’s gloomy mood, he gives a smirk and without another moment of hesitation the devilman grabs the doorknob and splinters it completely out of the door with a loud crack. A few wooden chunks fly by and the sticker is ripped in half as the door is pushed right open. Ryo grabs the edge of the police tape and tears it down, walking right into the pitch black apartment and reaching blindly for a light switch along the wall. The light is flicked on by Akira behind him, and the illuminated crime scene is grisly. 

 

The door leads straight into a small galley kitchen, on the fridge are several kitschy magnets and a picture of two smiling women with their arms around each other. Past the kitchen is the blood splattered living room. All the furniture is either shoved aside or upturned like in a scuffle, and in the center of the room lies the dried pool of blood— the walls covered in various pentagrams and symbols Ryo feels like he recognizes but can’t quite place. 

 

“Take a look around, see if you can pick up a scent or something,” Ryo waves Akira off and the door is shut behind them. The blonde fishes for his phone in his pocket and begins taking pictures of the symbols, the blood pool, anything useful. Akira’s heavy footfalls come closer and Ryo can hear the deep inhale he takes through his nose as he sniffs the air. 

 

Akira passes him and begins walking through the apartment, kneeling in the center of the room to sniff at the pool of blood. Ryo turns his attention to the upturned candles surrounding the pool, and with the symbols it’s obvious to him some form of ritual took place. A beat passes and suddenly Akira is sliding the blood soaked rug out of the middle of the floor and— there on the hardwood is an intricate carved triangle, various symbols and what Ryo recognizes as Hebrew surround the shape. The blood has soaked through the rug and stained the hardwood underneath a rosy color. Ryo snaps another picture. 

 

“What is this?” Akira slides his fingers across the edge of the triangle and instantly retracts his fingers as if burned. His brows furrow and he does it again this time hissing in pain as he stumbles backwards. 

 

“Some form of ritual, clearly your demon side isn't fond of whatever this is,” Ryo gestures to the triangle with the edge of his crutch. “We’ll look it up back at my place… Don’t touch it- and put the rug back.” Akira does as asked, sliding the rug back into place and he wipes his hands on his jeans as he stands back up. 

 

They walk through the small apartment, looking through anything of note the police have marked with their little yellow evidence tags. But, Ryo finds nothing else of note. “Let’s go. Maybe one of the other apartments has something.” 

 

Akira stops his rummaging through the drawers in the bedroom and follows Ryo’s lead. They walk back out into the hallway and Akira attempts to shut the front door, but it swings uselessly on its hinges without the doorknob or locks. He leaves it alone and catches up to Ryo down the hall. 

 

They go back down the stairs and at the bottom Akira stops dead in his tracks, pulling Ryo to a halting stop as well. He sighs in annoyance and looks up to see Akira sniffing the air, chin tilted up and eyes closed. Like a wild animal catching a scent. His head snaps to the door next to the staircase, an old metal one with rusty signage next to it that reads Basement, Laundry, and Maintenance.

 

“What is it?” Ryo nudges Akira’s shoulder and his friend finally opens his eyes and looks at the blonde. 

 

“It smells like… like that lady’s apartment.” They stare at each other for a silent moment and both come to the same conclusion. The pair make for the basement door, Akira opens it up and they go down the concrete steps slowly. With each step the light from the entrance hall gets dimmer and dimmer. Ryo leans into Akira for support and once they reach the bottom he can already feel the ache in his healing leg. The air cast around his foot only does so much, and he hadn’t wanted to take any pain medication or anything else to keep his head clear. 

 

It’s pitch black at the bottom, he tries the lightswitch and nothing changes. Ryo lets go of Akira so he can fish around in his pockets for the flashlight. “Can you see?”

 

“Yeah, it’s… weird.” Akira begins walking down the hall and Ryo follows after flicking on the flashlight, his crutch making an awful lot of noise on the concrete floor. The walls and floor are stained from age, and dirt and dust buildup covers the edges of the floor, a few cobwebs up near the ceiling. An open doorway catches his eye and they both peer into the laundry room of the apartment. It looks a mess and smells like a wet gym sock to Ryo, who crinkles his nose. There are a few laundry baskets with clothes and machines with the doors open or with clothing still inside, untouched and abandoned. On top of one machine is a pile of half folded clothing, a thin layer of dust covering it. They attempt the light switch to no avail, leaving them still in the dark.

 

“It’s like they were interrupted in the middle of their laundry.” Ryo leads the devilman into the room further to investigate, and Akira stays close, hovering within arms reach of the blonde. 

 

They pass by the first row of washers, 

 

Ryo is yanked by his collar back flush against Akira, one of his big hands covering Ryo’s mouth as he shushes him quickly. The blonde only struggles for a millisecond and then he relaxes, letting Akira take his crutch and lean it up against one of the machines silently. His other hand slides over Ryo’s and clicks off the flashlight, holding him completely still. And then Ryo hears it, the measured steps of too many feet, coming from down the hallway. Slowly Akira begins to crouch, bringing Ryo down with him and now Akira’s hulking form is cocooned around him, hiding them behind one of the many rows of machines. 

 

Akira’s whole body is warm, and his heartbeat hammers against Ryo’s back rapidly. The hand over his mouth is unnecessary at this point, but the risk of making any sound is too great, so he just leans into the other man’s awkward embrace to keep his balance without his crutch. It would almost be nice if they weren’t in danger.

 

The footsteps come to a halt at the door, and something beastly sniffs the air with a guttural huff. “Hello? Is anyone there?” An unnatural woman’s voice calls to them, and it makes Ryo’s skin crawl with goosebumps. Akira’s hands slowly- slowly move away, not making a single sound as he tilts his head up to catch a peek at the creature. He ducks back down quickly, and Ryo begins to quietly pull the loaded shotgun from his coat. A chittering noise like an insect fills the room as the unknown entity begins to enter the room properly. Ryo can’t see Akira very clearly, but he can feel the way the air is electric around him, can see the illuminating yellow in his eyes, and just as the creature begins to get dangerously close Akira lunges at them.

 

___

 

Akira had only caught a glimpse of the thing, but it was big, barely able to squeeze into the room with its long eight legs. The spider’s body was the head of a woman, multiple discolored kaleidoscope eyes with one large human one in her forehead and her black long hair draped down around the insect body. Her fangs move as she chitters and gazes around the room, drool and what Akira could smell as blood coming from her mouth. If it got much closer she would notice Ryo, and she could probably already smell them— His decision was made and with every step the demon takes Akira inches away from his humanity. 

 

His hands are clawed and black, horns sprout from his head, deep streaks form down his face and shoulders. He has to inch away from Ryo so as to not hurt him, conscious of where his clawed hands were hovering too close. The spider gets closer and closer until she’s just around the edge of the washers. Akira lunges with a snarl at the other demon with such force they go crashing through the concrete wall and into the hallway. The creature screeches horribly as he bites into anything he can get his paws on, a squirming leg that squirts out yellow ichor. He sees the fangs coming and brings his arm up to block, crying out when the fangs sink into the meat of his forearm. It burns painfully, so much that he has to let go and struggle out of the spider’s grip. The flesh around the wound looks irritated, and from the wound pours his blood, bubbling and sickly looking. Of course… It was a venomous spider. 

 

The huge beast hisses at him and shoots a net of web out of its mouth, and Akira barely dodges, but he isn't quick enough as the spider follows up by lunging at him again, fangs bared for another bite. He’s too off center, leaning far too back to escape— BANG

 

Akira’s ears are ringing and he falls straight on his ass. The side of the spider’s face is oozing blood from multiple wounds, but it scuttles backwards with a screech, bounding backwards down the hallway and leaving a messy blood trail behind. He sees the barrel of the shotgun poking out and then Ryo limps into his vision, still staring down the sight and ready to shoot again. He doesn’t even look at Akira as he speaks.

 

“Get up, we can't let it get away.” And Akira stands with a grunt, standing now at his full height, skin greyed and eyes yellow and shining. His tail shishes behind him. 

 

“C’mon then-“ Akira kneels down in front of Ryo, bringing his hands back, “You’re too slow, I’m not leaving you here so it can give me the slip and eat you.” Ryo takes the offered piggyback ride without any commentary, using one arm to wrap around Akira’s neck for stability, and with the other he points the shotgun over his shoulder. 

 

Akira takes care to not jostle Ryo, he still has the boot on his leg and now he’s without his crutch. He takes one deep breath and on the exhale breaks out into a sprint after the injured demon. He has to slow down on the corners or risk dropping Ryo, and the deeper they go into the hall the more cobwebs emerge until it’s impossible to run through the intersecting strands. They block the staircase going further down, but the blood trail leads that direction. Around the top of the stairs is the metal utility door torn straight off the hinges and embedded in the webbing, crushed and crumpled from some force breaking in from below. 

 

The devilman snarls and starts swatting webs aside, his forearms tense and then sharp blades come out the sides, similar shape to his horns just elongated and much sharper. They rip through the webs with ease and they descend further down. Rushing water is the first thing Akira can hear, echoing up the narrow staircase, and then the melodic humming of a woman. He breathes in deep, almost able to taste the demon’s blood, and pushes onwards to the bottom of the staircase. 

 

What lies below makes even Ryo gasp. Below the mess of webs lies a vast and intricate pipe structure, with the mesh metal floor they stand on being above the rushing waterworks of the sewer. At the end of the large room the water rushes down somewhere unseen through a small gap. The railing is rusted and half broken already. And the room is illuminated in a flashing red from the warning lights on the walls. None of that is of concern for what covers the bones of the building. 

 

Across the pipe structure and walls hangs white webbing, multiple carcasses cocooned and hanging in various areas across the ceiling and walls. Some cocoons are torn open and covered in the remains of their meal; torn sinew and bones, darkened and fermented blood, a stench beyond even death. And a few of them squirm, the muffled screams of trapped people barely audible above the rushing water.

 

Her humming has stopped. The spider stares at them, her fanged half humanoid mouth grins much too wide, all of her eyes focused right on the pair. She lies in her web straight in the middle of the room, and just as Akira steps forward to jump at her Ryo shoots his gun at the demon. She’s quick, the spray of shrapnel just grazes one of her long legs, and she climbs up through the web in the ceiling, and upside down she climbs towards them with enormous speed. 

 

Ryo hops from his back and tosses the shotgun aside to the ground, pulling out his pistol just as quickly to begin unloading on the creature. She shrieks and drops to the floor to dodge and Akira doesn’t waste his chance and lunges at her again. He claws at her face, growls and spits and bites at the demon. It’s a flurry of limbs and blood, he gets hold of one leg and snaps it clean off with a satisfying crack, blood sprays across the room and she lets out and unearthly scream.

 

He’s thrown backwards and skids to a stop just at the edge of the railing— on the opposite side of the room. The demon lies between him and Ryo and she’s already bounding towards the blonde. No- No- Ryo! His mind goes blank and he moves faster than he’s ever had in his life. 

 

Ryo shoots at the demon, the bullets doing little but making the huge spider cackle maliciously. Akira dives forward and grabs one insectoid leg and yanks the demon backwards with all his strength. Her eyes all turn to Akira, her fangs chitter and she attacks. This time he’s ready.

 

The devilman side steps her next attack and using his grip still on her leg he throws the demon backwards and away from Ryo. Behind him he hears the blonde scrambling as he abandons the pistol and leans down to try for the shotgun. Webbing whizzes by Akira’s head and lands on its intended target, pinning Ryo’s arm to the wall behind him. The blonde cries out in pain, and Akira becomes a vacant passenger in his own body. 

 

Amon’s movements are a flurry, first they are lunging at the demon again and then ripping their legs straight from their body- His clawed hand gouges at iridescent eyes, and when fangs rush forward to attack he grabs the two spider fangs in each of his hands and pulls them apart with a roar. Blood and ichor spurts forth as the demon is ripped in half from their mouth.

 

The creature twitches as its organs spill out and he drops the body to watch its remaining legs twitch and curl in on themselves. He stares at the steaming sickly looking flesh for a dazed second and falls to his knees in the mess with a sickening splat. The smell is familiar, and the yellow blood calls to him like a siren. He leans down, opening his maw and begins to take hunking bites out of the demon. The flesh is delicious, a craving he hadn’t known he had deep in his core finally settling down. After he swallows two bites the sound of footsteps makes him twitch and turn towards the noise. 

 

A human walks towards him, and Akira can’t focus his own eyes enough to completely make him out. He’s more of a lovely blur and when he reaches out and touches the side of his face it feels soft and reassuring. It’s Ryo. He closes his glassy eyes as they fill with tears, unwilling to cry, but Ryo’s other arm comes around his horns and pulls him in for a hug, his bloody face pressed into Ryo’s chest. Akira tries not to cry, but Ryo smooths a hand through his shifting black hair, along his bare shoulder, and he hiccups pitifully. 

 

“You’re okay, Akira.” How cruel of Ryo to be so gentle and kind, it makes Akira’s tears run hot down his cheeks and he muffles his pathetic sobbing into Ryo’s jacket. He clutches onto the fabric with his hands, now tan and back to normal, and the hand in his hair confirms his lack of horns. Akira cries, and cries until his voice is sore and his eyes sting, his face is red and puffy and when he pulls away from Ryo he’s left a large wet stain on his shirt and coat. “It’s okay… We need to get out of here.” 

 

Ryo first assists Akira in standing up then wipes his snotty blood covered face with the edge of his coat sleeve quickly. “Thanks…” The tender act squeezes Akira’s heart painfully, a deep aching taking place in his very core.. he pushes the unpleasant sensation down. 

 

Akira watches Ryo look him over, tsk-ing and yanking his injured arm forward to observe the unnaturally oozing wound. It gushes blood, and once Akira really gets a good look at it the pain settles, taking over the rush of adrenaline. He grinds his teeth together, the sizzling of his flesh lighting his nerves on fire. 

 

Everything blurs together at that point, Akira barely able to keep his eyes open from how exhausted he feels. Ryo’s large coat is shrugged off and he helps Akira get his arms into it, buttoning the front up to cover his now stark nakedness. Akira rests his eyes for what he swears is only a second, but now Ryo and him are stepping out of the elevator and the blonde is supporting his weight with his own limp. He’s laid down in the backseat, and Akira clutches his throbbing arm close to his chest, writhing and trying to just breathe through the indescribable pain. The whole car smells of Ryo, especially his coat where Akira has pressed his face into the collar. Like clean lavender, cigarettes, and the invasive skunky scent of weed. It’s undeniably Ryo, and Akira practically huffs in the fragrance, finding it a small comfort. 

 

There are tears rolling hot down his cheeks again when Ryo pulls him out of the car, and the blonde just swipes the fresh tears away and lets Akira lean on him for support. He can’t recall the walk to the elevator of Ryo’s apartment, or the short ride up. Akira comes back to as he’s laid down on the couch, and finally he feels like he can rest. He lets his eyes close again, unconsciousness licking at the corners of his mind. Someone is saying something but it’s far away and muffled, Akira’s eyes roll back and he finally passes out.

Chapter 5: Proverbs

Summary:

Ryo drags an injured Akira back to his apartment. A larger conspiracy is afoot.

Notes:

i felt bad for leaving y’all hanging for so long so here’s ANOTHER CHAPTER BABEYYY happy pride month! <3

Getting Akira into the car is an ordeal. Ryo’s leg aches with each step, and the half-conscious Akira is no help at all either. The venom must be working its way through his bloodstream and causing this, but of course Ryo didn’t really recall the last time Akira had transformed back. He had been dropped off at the hospital… which was a bad idea in this particular instance. How would he explain the extent of injuries? The ginormous sizzling bite on his friend’s arm?

 

No the hospital wouldn’t do. Too many cameras, a paper trail, and not to mention the amount of people. Ryo would have to help Akira on his own.

 

He briefly considers going back to take care of the still alive victims of the demon, stuck up in its webbing in the sewer… But, nobody could know about what they were doing, they were as good as dead anyway in that state. Better to leave them and not get his hands dirty. They wouldn’t be an issue soon enough.

 

Ryo lays Akira down in the backseat, he’s drenched in sweat and his face is pale in color, he curls up and clutches at his arm with a pathetic whimper. It makes Ryo drive recklessly back to his apartment, speeding through the mostly empty roads until they finally arrive.

 

He practically yanks Akira to his feet, jostling him to wake him enough to walk into the elevator to the top floor. They both slump against the wall, Akira’s eyes close and he leans into Ryo, who only huffs and readjusts his hold around Akira’s torso under his arms. The ride takes ages in Ryo’s opinion and finally he’s unlocking the door and shambling in towards the couch.

 

Akira is dumped on the cushions on his back with a grunt, and Ryo pants from the exertion, trying to catch his breath. Although there isn’t a lot of time to sit still when Akira’s usually deep skin tone is turning nearly white and he’s shivering all over.

 

Ryo grits his teeth and begins to limp to his study, clutching the side of the wall for stability. He knocks over several things in his rush but eventually pulls out the large case marked with a medical cross. Somehow he trudges with it in his grasp all the way back to the living room and slams it on the coffee table. The clasps are undone with a click and he throws it open.

 

The professor dons his latex gloves, fishing out a syringe and the various medications he then injects Akira with. Something to help the pain, another to keep infection away, and something for the venomous bite. It won’t cure it instantly or help as much as a real anti-venom would, but it does in a pinch. Ryo then sits on the free edge of the coffee table closest to Akira and pulls his injured arm onto his lap to look it over.

 

Black ooze gushes from the bite marks, bubbling and sizzling with a putrid smell. He decides to flush the wound a few times, having to get up to get a bucket and basin of water to do so. Akira is unconscious, and the medication seemed to have helped as he only twitches his fingers and grunts every so often. When he’s done cleaning the water is left black and red and he sets it aside to test later under a microscope.

 

He packs the deep wound with gauze, and wraps Akira’s arm carefully with clean white bandaging. Now that the most pressing wound has been dealt with he turns his attention to all the minor ones. The large gash across Akira’s chest is the next target and Ryo throws open his own coat to look it over. This wound and a few of the others where the spider had only grazed him are already beginning to close up and heal over. Without the venom it seems Akira has no issues regenerating from his battle, and that piques Ryo’s curiosity.

 

Ryo grabs a new syringe and a vial and takes a sample of Akira’s blood, much easier to do now than bother with asking him for permission. He swirls the tube to activate the anticoagulant and sets it aside for later.

 

He almost wants to leave the mess for Jenny, the aching of his muscles and injuries settling in as his adrenaline subsides and making him feel groggy and slow. But he’s getting up anyways so he gathers all the mess he can and limps to the trashcan to discard his gloves and the other blood soaked items. Ryo returns with a cool wet washcloth and puts it over Akira’s sweat soaked forehead, brushing some of his wild black hair out of the way.

 

Some of Akira’s color has started to return already, and his features have smoothed out from the anguished one he wore on the ride over. He looks relaxed, and his black eyelashes flutter open to squint at him. Akira lets out a pleasant hum as Ryo’s hand brushes through his hair.

 

“Go back to sleep, Akira.” The dark haired man blinks slowly and then hums and closes his eyes again. Ryo pets through his greasy blood soaked hair until he’s positive Akira is back asleep.

 

It’s a grueling task to get all the way to his bedroom, and Ryo limps the whole way there, clutching at anything he can for stability. He passes through the bedroom and straight to the bathroom, opening the cabinet behind the mirror so quickly it causes a few things to clatter out and into the sink. One of the items is exactly what he was looking for— an orange prescription bottle for his pain. He throws the dosage back without any water and leaves the bottle on the counter to find easier later.

 

Ryo grips the edge of the sink, breathing rapidly through his nose and closing his eyes to try and will away the flared pain in his leg. He’s unaware how long he had his eyes closed, but the sound of heeled footsteps makes him open his eyes again and turn to the doorway. Jenny walks right in, he had left the doors open after all, and looks him up and down with her unblinking scrutinizing gaze.

 

“Would you like assistance?”

 

Ryo nods and Jenny helps him out of his air cast and clothes. She gets him in the shower and leaves him to clean himself up, instead going and tending to the laundry. Somehow she returns with perfect timing as Ryo shuts the warm spray of water off. Jenny is a very familiar presence, and her steady hands and quiet demeanor puts Ryo at complete ease. She brought clean clothes and a towel that Ryo accepts. He dries and dresses and the red head mother-hens over him; getting his cast back on, making sure he has a new crutch to walk with, even brushing his shoulder length hair back out of his face and squeezing the water out of the blonde locks with a towel.

 

It’s comforting, being taken care of in this way that Jenny has done faithfully for so many years. She had raised him in the absence of his mother and his work obsessed father, with her somewhat cold but caring demeanor.

 

“You must rest.”

 

“I have work to do.” Ryo stands with his crutch and Jenny doesn’t protest, she only steps to the side and allows him to walk past.

---

 

Akira drifts in and out of reality, his head spinning and his eyes ache when he tries to open them so he lets them stay closed. It’s like an out of body experience when he begins to dream.

 

Amon stands alone in the rubble of a city, he’s looking up and shouting at that blonde angel. He’s furious, the anger courses through every fiber of his being, but he can’t make out much of what is said.

 

“You used me—“ “Humans cannot survive with what you’ve done-!” “Akira Fudo despises you.” That gets the angel to react, and with a wave of his pristinely soft hands a huge hulking demon lunges towards him.

 

Three heads adorn their shoulders, with one large bat like one on the demon’s black furry chest. He’s much larger than Amon, and he can’t move in time to avoid the strike. Amon is thrown back against the already collapsing buildings with a crash as rubble falls over him. The demon is laughing and walking over, throwing large concrete rubble out of the way to find his prey again.

 

“You were always weak , Amon. No wonder that human took control of you—“ He snarls and as soon as he can move he bites into the larger demon’s ankle and rips a hunk of spurting flesh out. The demon howls and doubles over, Amon rushes to his feet and punches them straight in one of their many faces.

 

His fist goes straight through them, the demon’s body looking transparent as they cackle viciously. His fist is stuck in the ghostly form, Amon struggles to free himself but when he tries to grab the demon with his other hand it too sinks into their form. He’s sucked into darkness, like being plunged into a deep cold rushing river, he cannot struggle or move or see anything except the darkness.

 

Four pairs of burning eyes emerge from the darkness, and the demon’s many mouths all grin much too wide at him. This doesn’t feel like the dream from before— it’s tangible, almost as real as Amon can comprehend and Zennon is laughing cruelly.

 

“ You cannot hide inside that putrid human much longer. You both are nothing more than an inconvenience to be dealt with—“

 

Akira wakes with a jolt, trying to sit straight up but a hand pushes him right back down. He lifts the washcloth from his eyes and is greeted with Jenny, pushing him back to lay down and tucking him back in under his blanket. When she leans over he can see straight down her shirt and he quickly finds interest in the fibers of the soft blanket.

 

“It was only a nightmare,” She assists with putting the washcloth back over his forehead and eyes once he closes them again. It brings Akira back to when he was a child, sleeping over at Ryo’s only to get frightened waking up in the middle of the night. And there was always Jenny, calm and kind and ready to tuck him right back into bed alongside Ryo. “Go back to sleep.”

 

Her hand rests atop his head for a moment, and Akira gets an electric tingling sensation that starts there and jolts through his body. He chalks it up to the venom in his injured arm.

 

“You won’t have any more nightmares.” Jenny assures quietly, leaving him with a kiss on his forehead to finish tucking him in. Akira’s throat feels tight and he can’t remember the last time his own mother had tucked him in with such loving care. His heart aches for his mom, for her gentle presence and unconditional love. He’s a grown man now but still he wants to be held and loved, safe and cherished by his mother. Akira stifles a sob and tries to will his own thoughts away.

 

---

“It is too late for Amon to join us.” The congregation of demons clamors with uneasy buzz as they whisper among themselves. “He has chosen to merge with a human and allowed that human to possess his heart.”

 

Zennon’s heads had split into four beings, looking humanoid now to blend in; two women and two men, each distinct in their looks and shape. They sit at a long table, facing the legion of demons. One of his other heads slams their fist into the table and they turn their attention there.

 

“He is a traitor!” The legions explode into chaos, calling for Amon’s execution. For him to be ripped limb from limb, his flesh devoured and desecrated.

 

Zennon raises a hand and they quiet down to discontented whispers. “Hunt him down… whoever among you brings me his head will be rewarded.” And with a flourish of his hand Zennon dismisses the troops.

 

Sirene turns and Kaim follows, listening as she speaks with her lilted voice, “If Amon has entered the human realm we must find him first.”

 

“Lord Zennon said to execute him.”

 

“I will eviscerate him myself if need be,” She glances over her shoulder and her icy clear eyes glare at Kaim, who shrinks under the scrutiny. “He will come to his senses or die .”

Notes:

shoutout to devilman apocalypse of amon for being the inspiration for Akira’s fever dream vision

Chapter 6: Pain and…

Summary:

Akira dreams and Ryo works to get to the bottom of what they witnessed at the apartment. Things get a little hot and heavy.

Notes:

tw: there are elements of non-con and being held down against your will in the last part of the chapter. everything is consensual although not sane and definitely not safe

Ryo is intersex btw

Akira does not have any more nightmares. His dreams feel odd— like sand slipping through his fingers. Thoughts he can’t hold onto completely, most do not feel like his own. 

Foggy images of an angel basked in darkness— laid out in the sun in the plush vibrant grass with pale skin exposed and warm to the touch, large plush white wings stretch out in response and hands reach out for him. The touch is electrifying, his skin tingling where their hands roam across his body. His own mouth is moving but he cannot hear the words spilling out— whatever is spoken makes the angel under him laugh like the chime of bells, their pale cheeks turning a satisfying rosy hue. 

 

Just as quickly the scene is replaced by another.

 

Miki is waiting for him after school, rocking back and forth on her feet— they’re both just at the end of elementary when Akira moves in with her family and it’s the end of his first day at school. She spots him and waves excitedly, grinning from ear to ear with her black pigtails bouncing above the crowd. Akiraaa! Over here! The pit of dread in his stomach he had all day from being lonely dies down, he gives a shy smile and walks over—

 

He clutches at the wound gushing from his side, the hot blood trickles between his clawed hands— His enemy advances and in a flash of blinding light the demon in front of him is cleaved in two by a white beam of light. The angel— His guardian angel, lowers their hand and approaches, reaching out for their hand to examine the wound. Their touch is gentle as they pull their clawed red hands away and place one small hand to swipe across the wound. It’s as if there never was any injury in the first place…

 

Akira had been sobbing all day, his feet raw and red from walking home with no shoes. He hiccups on the porch, wiping his eyes and blinking away his fat rolling tears to see Ryo. He tilts his small blonde head, neutral expression unblinking as he points to the ground between them. A pile of various small pairs of shoes lay in the dirt, amongst them Akira can already spot his own shoes and wipes away his tears quickly. In one of Ryo’s small hands, the boxcutter he carries glints in the summer afternoon, Akira knows he shouldn’t have something like that but he can’t help smiling at his friend. Ryo blinks and then smiles back. 

 

They’re curled up in bed together, dressed in fresh pajamas and Akira shifts his small body closer to Ryo in the dark. The blonde reaches out and clasps his hand, and Akira feels he can rest easy now… 

 

It’s the first night he spent at the Makimura’s. He sobs into the pillow in his bedroom— Why? Why did his parents leave him behind? A knock at the door and in comes Miki, small black cat in her clutches as she stalks straight through the darkness and pokes Akira’s side. He peeks at her through the covers, and her own eyes are wet with unspilled tears. She has a big fluffy blanket and they go out on the balcony, the cat purrs between them as they stare up at the twinkling stars.

 

A bright blinding light fills his vision, and once the light subsides the angel is there. Standing amongst the other devils who argue and shriek at each other. Amon stands to his left, a smaller demon with wild red hair and huge kaleidoscope eyes stands on their right, it hurts to look directly at them so he looks to the angel instead. His brows are furrowed, eyes slit and intense and after a moment they break into the argument. Their voice is booming, carrying down the echoing rock walls of the deep cavern they inhabit— Their hand slams down onto the table and several demons jump at the impact, their sharpened teeth show as they growl and spit vitriol, gesturing animatedly with their hands. 

 

They sigh and pinch the bridge of his nose, closing their eyes to calm themselves before starting again. They’re speaking indistinctly, finishing whatever argument was taking place and with a wave and a fluttering of white wings the angel turns to leave. When Amon makes no move to follow they look over their shoulder, beckoning him to follow. Amon, come. Like a trained dog he goes, his padded feet going before his mind can even make up why he should follow. Why can't he resist the magnetic pull of the wordless commands? He can’t find a good reason to disobey. 

 

Despite being such a large and imposing beast he’s crowded up against the cavern wall by the smaller being, practically manhandled and his blood boils. Hands roam over his arms, his torso, through black fur and over scarred flesh. White wings close in around them and the angel tilts their chin up, standing high on their toes and closing their shining blue eyes. Amon cannot resist even if he wanted to— He’s kissing them— a distraction from the current situation at hand. 

 

Strong hands pull at his horns, tugging him closer, closer— Hot and wet, a tongue is sliding into his mouth, across his fangs, clumsy and virginal but enthusiastic. They’ve only done this a handful of times— and Amon was always the one to initiate until now. He grabs at their body, grabbing their side and a wing and pushing them up against the wall instead. His own hands wedge between closed slick thighs, pushing them open and lifting him up with no resistance. The body pressed up against his trembles, his claws dig into tender flesh and his partner is moaning into his mouth. When they pull away he can’t see their face- it’s blurry and flushed and the white wings protruding from their long blonde hair close in to hide their embarrassment as the angel tries desperately to calm their breathing. Amon grins down at the radiant angel, unable to contain his pleasure at being deliberately pulled away from their war plans for this. 

 

The tight heat that envelops him is nearly too much, the hands on his horns grip so tight they may snap clean off, and legs clamp around his torso like a vice- any harder and he’s sure his spine would crack under the pressure. Amon cannot stop himself from biting into sweet unmarred flesh, and heavenly blood sings across his tongue. The fallen angel cries out, yanking him by the horns closer- impossibly close as they demand more, more, more! 

---

Akira’s eyes fly open and he’s greeted with that same blonde hair— He sits up abruptly, startled before the sound of tapping computer keys alerts Akira to Ryo’s presence, waking him from his panicked stupor. It’s only Ryo. 

 

It’s still dark out, but from the couch he can see the early Sunday morning news are on the television, playing quietly in the background. Ryo is sat on the ground, using the glass top coffee table like a desk with his laptop, open journal and steaming mug of coffee. His back is leaned up against the couch where Akira had been sleeping, he’s in a baggy shirt and a blanket covers his legs under the table. The scent of soap hangs in the air, and Ryo’s blonde hair looks puffier than usual, soft and shining in the dim morning light like a halo. Past Ryo’s shoulder Akira gazes at the laptop screen. Pages of symbols line the screen and the sight of them makes an uncomfortable pit grow in his stomach. 

 

Ryo turns his head and his neutral expression shifts to just a hint of a smile. He looks so soft like this, like a fluffy cloud in the sky, “How do you feel, Akira?” 

 

“Mm’ fine…” Akira can feel the raspy rumble in his voice and coughs to clear it, trying to wrest away the flush clinging to his body from his dreams, to stop his heart from hammering in his chest. He self consciously shifts his hips, hyper aware of how excited the dream had made him and lifts his knees up to hide under the blanket. How long has Ryo been sitting there though? He wouldn’t have sat down so close if he had noticed— 

 

“You were mumbling in your sleep.” 

 

His blood runs cold and he looks at Ryo like a thief caught red handed. “I— I was?” 

 

“What were you dreaming about?” And damn Ryo to hell because Akira can’t lie to him. He tried once or twice when they were children and it never ever worked. Especially not when Ryo was looking at him with those soft baby blue eyes, long blonde eyelashes fluttering and his smile so genuine it makes Akira’s stomach do flips. 

 

Akira feels sweaty and wipes his palms on the blanket. “What was I saying in my sleep?” 

 

Ryo only shrugs, “I couldn’t make any of it out.” And when the silence stretches out Akira realizes he’s waiting for him to answer his first question. 

 

“Oh— Um- It was only…” Fuck! What was he supposed to say? A part of Akira wants to tell Ryo, but he can’t. It’s too embarrassing to admit he was having a dirty dream. “I don’t think… I mean- It didn’t feel like my dream… I don’t remember most of what happened… It just felt… weird.” 

 

“Weird?” Ryo is looking at him far too closely and it makes Akira’s palms feel sticky with sweat. His expression reminds Akira of a surgeon, picking apart someone from the inside out. “If you remember anything that seems important you’ll tell me.” 

 

It’s not a question, but Akira finds himself nodding in agreement. He doesn’t really mind telling Ryo important things. But nothing he could remember from his dreams seemed relevant. All he can think of when he closes his eyes are white soft wings spread out and twitching, pale body writhing up to meet him— Ryo is still looking at him, Akira’s face feels hot. He fixes him with one last studying gaze; up and down and turns back to his laptop.

 

On his screen are dozens of symbols, and next to his laptop is an open journal where Ryo has scribbled a rather detailed picture of the demon they had encountered the night before. Its multiple spider-like legs juf out from its sickly shaped humanoid head for a body, black inky hair draping over and spilling along the ground. Those huge fangs drip with venom and Akira’s arm aches from the fresh memory. He remembers the fight… and then he had… what had happened? 

 

“I killed that thing right?” Ryo follows his gaze to the picture.

 

“You did,” Ryo confirms and Akira hums. “Do you not remember?” 

 

He can’t help the yawn he lets out, blinking to try and get the last bits of sleep from his eyes, “The end got a little fuzzy…”

 

“You killed the demon and I drove us home.” Ryo shrugs and turns back to what he was doing, picking up his mug to take a long drink of coffee. Akira could ask for more details, and he wants to… But he gets the feeling Ryo is intentionally leaving some details out, probably irrelevant ones… 

 

Akira watches Ryo scribble in the journal after setting the mug down. Next to the strange symbols he’s jotted down he writes: Transformation may result in retrograde amnesia. And what does that even mean? Thinking about such large words this early makes his head ache. 

 

“The symbols in the apartment were part of a summoning ritual from the Key of Solomon.” Ryo angles his laptop towards Akira for him to see better. He clicks to a picture of the bloody carved triangle on the floor, “This was meant to house the demon summoned. And these—“ The screen changes to the symbols drawn in blood along the walls. “Were for contacting the divine, the four archangels that commune with God. The text lays out how to use the presence of these angels to control a demon to do your bidding.” 

 

“Hm… I don’t think it worked out how they thought.” Akira quips and it makes Ryo stifle a laugh. He gets the tingling of butterflies when he catches the slight upturn of Ryo’s pink lips, and the way the corner of his eyes crinkle with amusement. He’s so ethereally beautiful, Akira can’t help but stare at the side profile of his features. With his perfectly shaped nose and lips, his long blonde eyelashes and curling locks of hair. Akira’s mouth waters and when he blinks he can see Ryo’s very heart beating steadily in his chest, along with his pulsing veins spreading through his body like branches. He blinks again and Ryo’s appealing features are back. 

 

The blonde is speaking again, explaining something else about what they had seen earlier but Akira isn’t hearing any of it. His eyes are transfixed on Ryo as he runs a hand back through his blonde hair to tuck it behind one of his ears, exposing the expanse of his lithe neck and jugular— The baggy t-shirt Ryo wears hangs loosely to his form, not revealing much else other than his neck and some of his shoulder and collarbone where the fabric has slipped down but that small expanse of pale skin is tantalizing enough——

 

“Are you okay?” Ryo is turned fully now, concern written all over his face. Akira’s breathing has sped up, he feels flushed and too hot, and it only makes it worse when one of Ryo’s cool hands touches his forehead. “You shouldn’t have a fever anymore…” And under Professor Asuka’s studying gaze Akira feels much like a germ in a petri dish. 

 

“I’m fine-“ He insists, forcing Ryo’s hand away quickly, “Just a little hot under this blanket!” Akira gives his best reassuring smile, and even pushes the blanket down off his torso since he does feel hot now. Ryo stares, and Akira can’t tell what he’s thinking at all. The silence stretches on for almost too long and just as Akira is about to come up with another excuse, Ryo interjects.

 

“Akira Fudo-“ The blonde’s voice is stern, and embarrassingly Akira gets harder from the harsh tone, “-You were seriously injured. If you aren’t feeling well you need to tell me.” 

 

Under the blanket Akira pinches his knees together, mind reeling from the bodily reaction Ryo’s tone elicited from him. “I’m fine! Seriously, I am! I was just having weird dreams, Ryo. I promise.” That seems to placate Ryo enough and he heaves a sigh before going back to his laptop, his back turned to Akira again.

 

You are pathetic. The intrusive voice cuts through all his pondering, and he can feel his face warm with the knowledge of being caught admiring Ryo, especially by the demon inhabiting his soul. Denying yourself only delays the inevitable. There is only flesh… and the ways we submit to it. 

 

The inevitability of what exactly? Akira losing control and finally sinking his teeth into someone? Into Ryo?— but the demon grumbles in his core, neither of them really want to hurt Ryo. In that they seem in silent agreement. At least not seriously injure…

 

Images of the Sabbath fill his thoughts; grinding slick bodies, mouths licking into each other, hands grabbing flesh firmly and— Akira shuts his eyes tight and attempts to will away the images. All he can picture now is Ryo, grinning at him in the Sabbath, his arm thrown around his back, how close and warm he had felt pressed against Akira… Now he was taller and much stronger than Ryo, it would be easy to hold him down and— 

 

“If you’re feeling better you can go take a shower. I left some clothes and a towel in my bathroom.” Ryo throws casually over his shoulder, focused on his laptop now as his eyes scan over the lines of text on the screen. The devilman’s fantasizing ends abruptly, but now he stares at Ryo, the real thing right in front of him within arms reach… “Did you hear me?” And Ryo is looking at him again so he nods as quick as he can. 

 

“Yep! Loud and clear! Just uh— thinking.” 

 

“Ah.. Don’t think too hard, you’ll hurt yourself.” Ryo laughs as Akira squawks in mock offense, and he sticks his tongue out at Ryo, the blonde does it back, his smile contagious at this point but all Akira can focus on is how his wet pink tongue darts out between his plush lips. Ryo stops, his lips wet with saliva now, and turns back to his laptop. Akira nearly whines. 

 

The devilman has to manually breathe, sucking in a deep breath through his nose and out through his mouth. He can’t look at Ryo anymore, and turns towards the morning news to distract himself. The anchors behind the desk drone on and on about the economy and the stock market and Akira can’t even pretend to be interested. 

 

Akira tries not to be awkward as he gets up, and quickly realizes he’s still only in Ryo’s blood soaked overcoat. His face turns crimson and he thanks every celestial power in the sky that Ryo is so occupied by his studies. The coat is pulled tight around his torso and he holds it closed self consciously, hyper aware that somewhere along the way he had started sporting a chub. He stalks towards the bathroom, making sure his back is turned towards his friend and Ryo calls after him again, “And don’t fuck up the bandage on your arm! You can remove the rest of them!” 

 

“Yep! Got it!” 

 

Akira shuts the bathroom door as calmly as he can and buries his burning face in his hands, groaning in pure frustration. At least he’s not thinking about this right where he could actually pounce on Ryo, he’s safe several rooms away.  And Akira feels like he can finally breathe properly again. 

 

Except as he breathes through his nose the bathroom smells like Ryo. The coat he wears smells of Ryo. All he can smell on his hands is Ryo. Ryo. Ryo… Akira whines into his hands and his dick only gets harder. He rubs the palms of his hands into his eyes until he sees stars and quickly moves to throw the coat off, struggling a bit in his hurry. The cool tile floor on his feet grounds him to reality, and he opens the sliding glass door to the shower and turns the water on as cold as he can get it, holding one hand under the spray to test. He absolutely cannot masterbate thinking about Ryo when he’s about to take a shower in his shower, use his soaps, put on his spare clothes— Ryo is just a few rooms away and he can hear the TV still playing the News, his fingers tapping away on the keyboard and the sound pausing when he drinks his coffee, the sound of him swallowing is obscene— 

 

Like a furnace blazing to life in the dead of winter, Akira yanks his hand out of the freezing water and the demon’s desires within him wins out. His head snaps to the discarded coat Akira had slept in- Ryo’s coat he wears every day. His hands pick up the filthy garment and he buries his face in the fibers, practically huffing in the scent of his best friend. Under the coppery tang of splattered blood and viscera is that warm inviting smell that is entirely Ryo, and when he closes his eyes it’s like he has Ryo right there with him. 

 

Deep burning shame washes over him, but he’s too far gone now. He’s already committed to going down this road. Akira can’t stop himself from spitting in his hand, or grabbing his own weeping dick to stroke himself off. He can’t stop the frustrated tears that threaten to spill down his cheeks, or the way he whines and groans Ryo’s name into the fabric of his coat when he finally comes. 

 

Akira can, however, start crying as he tosses the now come soaked coat aside and hops into the shower. Like he can run from the action he just committed somehow by scrubbing himself clean. The icy spray of water cools his boiling blood, and he closes his eyes under the spray to submerge himself completely. He lets the viscera and blood still stuck to his hair and body rinse out, standing there unmoving until his heart has stopped trying to pound out of his chest. He tries to keep the bandage on his arm out of the water, but it becomes unavoidable and he just tears all the soaking wet bandages off and tosses them out of the shower. 

 

His arm is barely healed, it looks pink and raw and there are still two large divots where the demon had latched onto him. Akira does however angle the healing wound away from the spray of water, then he grabs for the soap, lathering the expensive smelling stuff in his hands before he gets to work scrubbing himself clean. 

---

“Akira Fudo—“ Ryo doesn’t mean to sound so stern, but it certainly gets Akira’s attention. He stands in the doorway, hair dripping wet and no bandage on his exposed arm. There’s a deep blush spreading across Akira’s cheeks, “Go back to the bathroom and bring me the box under the sink, I need to redo your bandage.” He clicks his laptop shut and sets it aside. Akira sighs and his whole frame seems to relax, he turns and does as told. 

 

Since Akira had been in the shower Ryo had moved to sit on the couch, and when Akira returns with the box of bandages he pats the spot next to him. Annoyingly, Akira sits not in the spot he had patted but almost too far away to reach. Ryo takes the bandages from him and scoots closer, “Give me your arm.” Akira is quiet as he obeys, watching Ryo’s hands as he grabs Akira’s arm to position it in his lap, and then begins to wrap his forearm in the white bandaging. 

 

The silence stretches on, and for Ryo it is comfortable and familiar, but he can see Akira squirming and bouncing his knee. “I’m sorry…” Akira’s face is obscured, he is staring hard at a spot on the floor and his wet hair falls around his face. He sounds dejected- like a kicked puppy and Ryo can't stand it. 

 

“It’s okay, Akira.” The wet mop of hair shakes, “Really, it’s all okay. You never need to apologize to me.” Ryo means it, he can’t even think of any reason for Akira to be apologizing. 

 

As the bandages are finished up Ryo can hear the sniffles Akira is trying to hide, and Ryo lets his hand linger on top of the other man’s. His head just barely tilts to stare at their hands in Ryo’s lap, and Akira uses his other hand to wipe at his own eyes and is unnaturally quiet. He’s still sniffling and trying not to cry, but with every beat it seems that Akira is calming down. Ryo begins to pull his hand away and Akira’s hand flies out and grabs his wrist to hold him in place. He lets out a startled gasp, pulling back more and it makes Akira’s hand tighten to a dangerously uncomfortable degree. 

 

“Ah— ow! Akira?” 

 

Black wet hair clings to Akira’s face, dripping down between them and as he shifts closer Ryo can see his eyes, glazed over and shining yellow. His mouth is open just barely but Ryo can see the too many sharp teeth, the drool dripping down his chin, “Akira- Let go.” 

 

His wrist is twisted and Ryo cries out in pain, his free hand flying to grab Akira’s to try and pull his fingers off- But Akira is too fast, he grabs that wrist, and, not unlike a big cat, pounces on Ryo. All the air is knocked out of his lungs, and his arms are pinned at his sides held tight by Akira’s firm grasp. His nails dig into Ryo’s flesh, pain prickles in the small crescent shapes and he grits his teeth together. Akira looms over him, and Ryo can tell he isn’t all there anymore. There’s a vacant, almost zombie look in his irises, devoid of life. 

 

Ryo squirms in his grasp, trying to move his legs which Akira just sits on, trapping him more effectively. He really starts to struggle in earnest, twisting his legs, pulling his arms and trying to scrabble for any leverage he can get— Akira is too strong. The more he struggles and fails to free himself, the wider Akira’s smile gets, until he’s laughing in a deep voice unlike his own. Ryo stops struggling, it’s a waste of his strength, even if he got free there’s no telling what Akira will do when he no doubt catches him. He can walk without the crutch, he’s positive he cannot run far enough to grab anything useful— He’s stuck at the mercy of the demon.

 

“You done?” There’s a smugness to Akira’s voice Ryo has never quite heard, it makes the blonde scowl at him.

 

“You’re hurting me.” The pressure on his wrists does let up, but just barely, and when Ryo tests the grip and slips one hand free—! He doesn’t get very far. Both his wrists are slammed above his head, gathered in one large hand and squeezed securely. It hurts— But with the way Akira straddles him, with his big shoulders hunched over and his body looming in close, it makes Ryo’s core burn with desire. He’s been splayed out like this before, not with Akira, but a handful of times he can recall fumbling in the sheets with strangers. And despite being dead sober, Ryo’s brain feels fogged with a natural lust his human body cannot quell. 

 

“You like that sort of thing though, don’t you?” Akira’s practically mocking Ryo now, grinning wildly at the sight of his cheeks reddening and his head shaking. “You’re only lying to yourself. I can smell it on you-“ A free clawed hand runs along Ryo’s heaving chest and skitters across his collarbone to rest a heavy hand on his neck. Those large fingers flex and twitch, clearly wanting to squeeze down like a vice... but they don’t. Just the pressure of that hand there brings a slickness between Ryo’s legs, and he can hear the audible breathing of Akira turn labored and heavy. 

 

It’s exciting to have Akira on him like this, he can’t deny how attractive his friend had gotten since his possession, the danger of it all held a certain allure for Ryo. Of course, Akira had always been cute, but he had never seen him so forward and pushy. From Ryo’s spot pinned to the couch he can see the flex of Akira’s muscles, his well defined arms and shoulders, thick thighs pressing him down into the soft couch. However, he can’t ignore the danger of the situation either. Akira was clearly not feeling like himself, and if this went on much longer Akira could seriously hurt him beyond a bruised wrist… Ryo is weighing the pros and cons of the situation when Akira shifts his weight and Ryo’s injured leg flares with pain.

 

The cry Ryo lets out is agonized, his eyes scrunch closed and in an instant Akira has reeled back, the absence of his hulking form letting Ryo suck in a desperate gulp of air. He opens his eyes and watches as Akira stumbles backwards so fast he tumbles on the edge of the coffee table and falls straight on his back with a thud. He looks horrified, his mouth open and slack and his eyes wide and glassy where they bore into Ryo’s bruised wrists. 

 

Ryo begins to sit up, “Akira—“ 

 

“No, no, no, no-“ Akira’s hands clench in the air, shaking and white knuckled, “I w- I was going to…” He trails off and his hands ghost the action of squeezing Ryo’s neck.

 

“It’s fine- you didn’t.” Ryo rubs his wrists and winces, fully sitting up to assess the damage. The bruises are already forming in the shapes of his fingertips, and truly that hurts worse than his leg does now. It had been just an unfortunate accident of Akira to put so much weight on him. “I’m alright. You wouldn’t hurt me.” 

 

Akira looks delirious as he quickly flicks his gaze between Ryo’s wrists and his face, “I did hurt you.” He sounds bewildered, and before Ryo can get another word in, Akira is scrambling to his feet. “I-I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I- I need to go.” 

 

“Akira.” But he’s already turned his back, and when Ryo blinks again he’s gone and the door opens and slams shut, the force of it shaking the apartment. Ryo is left wondering what brought all that on? 

Chapter 7: Pleasures

Summary:

Akira walks home and makes a promise to Miki. Ryo thinks too much.

Notes:

everyone is hopeless and gay.. shorter chapter bc uhhhhhh i said so? longer chap next time

Akira realizes far too late that he has no shoes on. The sidewalk concrete is cold in the morning air, the sun hasn’t quite risen all the way to warm its surface. He wasn't going to turn around and go back to Ryo’s apartment, there’s no telling what he was about to do to him.

 

A coppery tang coats Akira’s tongue and again too late he realizes he was biting the inside of his cheek too hard. He presses his tongue up against the bleeding flesh, a natural human reflex— but the essence of his own blood now is different. It holds a familiar flavor he feels like he can’t place… But slowly as he walks the memory becomes fresh in the forefront of his mind. 

 

The creature twitches as its organs spill out and he drops the body to watch its remaining legs twitch and curl in on themselves. He stares at the steaming sickly looking flesh for a dazed second and falls to his knees in the mess with a sickening splat. The smell is familiar, and the yellow blood calls to him like a siren. He leans down, opening his maw and begins to take hunking bites out of the demon—

 

Akira shakes his head like he can knock the very thought loose. Bile rises in the back of his throat, tears well up in his eyes that make his vision blurry and practically useless. He’s hopeless- pathetic. What would he have done to Ryo? 

 

The intrusive image of Ryo on his back, pinned down, comes to mind. His normally neutral expression is twisted in agony, and between them Akira’s clawed hand tears into his skin, past muscle and viscera straight down to his bones— 

 

Akira’s feet carry him forwards, he can’t even see for the tears clouding his vision. His breathing is uneven and he feels like he can't get enough air into his lungs. He openly sobs now and buries his face into his hands, unable to think, unable to do anything—

---

Ryo sits on his couch, red faced and flushed hot while he rubs his wrists. What had brought that all on? Perhaps letting Akira consume the demon’s flesh had been ill advised, it seems to have ignited something inside him… He would have to ask Akira later, if he truly was out of control he would come right back here. He could not tell his real troubles to anyone else, so logically Akira would come crawling back, Ryo just needed to wait. 

 

Mostly he needed to compose himself. He closes his eyes and breathes in through his nose and out his mouth slowly, repeating this over and over until his heartbeat slows and his breathing evens out. Ryo opens his eyes and begins to assess the extent of his bruising, ignoring the ticklish feeling he has in his core. Around his pale wrists are a matching set of clearly defined hand prints, darkening to a purpley-red at the fingertips. Ryo traces a finger along the injury, poking down on the bruise and wincing at the pain it causes. 

 

An overwhelming feeling of familiarity washes over Ryo.

 

Pain flickers through his mind, and he has to pull back from the searing lips chasing his own. Amon has grabbed his wrist, and it’s still healing slowly from the burning chains he had been imprisoned with. The demon’s clawed hand curls around the raw flesh and pins his arm up by his head, and he should be panicking. But the feeling of being held down— Amon’s weight on top of him, his huge forceful hands keeping him in place… It was making his insides feel hot and syrupy, all logic was fading fast, he couldn’t think. Not while Amon’s other hand slides between his sticky thighs and—

 

Ryo blinks rapidly until the tv and the rest of the living room come back into focus. His core burns with desire, and when he stands he can feel the slickness in his underwear. His heart is beating fast again and his breathing is labored… What is happening to him? Lust was such a base and carnal desire, he had no need for it… All it caused was problems; like Akira running off. 

 

Of course Ryo was no prude, on a number of occasions he had sought out his own partner to fumble in the sheets with. It didn’t matter; men, women, it was always the same. In his mind he had always thought it was just inconvenient, having to find someone willing and then when actually getting down to business he had to pretend to care about their pleasure. It was tedious and the mess was never worth it, Ryo could achieve the same result with a line of coke and a cheap dildo without the annoyance of another human being in his personal space. The only person he really didn’t mind in his space was Akira…

 

It would be a huge setback if Akira injured someone else, or worse, maul them like he had been trying to do to Ryo. There’s an uncomfortable knot forming in Ryo’s stomach, twisting his insides and making him feel queasy. He would like to believe the best in Akira, that he would never do something like that to anyone… Anyone? A sudden jolt pulls at Ryo’s heartstrings, and he shivers from head to toe. 

 

Akira would do that to anyone.

 

Surely the whole interaction was just because Ryo was the closest warm body in proximity. But, if that were the case, why does Ryo feel so sick to his stomach at the notion? He sits back down on the couch behind him and closes his eyes again, letting out the breath he had been holding in— Why?! What was this dreadful feeling in his chest? Ryo can’t stand it. He fists a hand in his shirt over where his heart beats uncontrollably, trying to will his entire body to stop. This feeling needs to stop. He needs to distance himself from it.

 

It doesn’t take Ryo very long to hobble into his bedroom with his crutch. He pulls his nightstand drawer open, and behind the books and phone charger is the small tightly wound baggie he was looking for. After another second of rummaging he pulls out a loose ink pen— and just pops the lid off to take that. It was cylindrical and over the years Ryo had learned what a quick and easy straw it could become for snorting powder.

---

 

It’s still early in the morning when Akira makes it back to the Makimura residence. Early enough that people are just starting to wake up. When he opens the front door the house would usually be silent at this hour, but he can hear Mrs. Makimura, Akiko, humming in the kitchen as she rummages around in cabinets— From upstairs he can hear the tapping of Miki’s nails on her phone screen, even the easy calm breaths she lets out. Akira shuts the front door behind him, probably too hard. 

 

“Akira, is that you?” Akiko calls out.

 

“Yeah,” Akira shoves his hands in his sweatpants pockets and rounds the corner past the living room and into the doorway of the kitchen. 

 

Akiko stands against the counter where she is chopping up vegetables to cook in the pan on the stove. She looks up and smiles warmly at Akira, “Did you have fun at Ryo’s? I didn’t think you’d be home so soon.” 

 

“Yeah, I um… Well Ryo, he um… had some work to do, so…” 

 

“Well as long as you boys had fun,” Akiko turns back to the vegetables she had been cutting, “Would you like to help?” And Akira nods, even going to roll his sleeves up, but he stops short. The bandage covering the huge wound on his arm would definitely raise some questions. So he pads into the kitchen slowly, washes his hands in the sink, and waits for his foster mother’s instruction. “Why don’t you get the rice ready?” 

 

Akira nods again and heads towards the rice cooker on the counter. He is thankful for the silence and the mindlessness of the task; he pops the lid, takes out the metal bowl insert, fills it with rice, washes the rice under the sink… It’s soothing, the water running across his hands and the uncooked rice between his fingers. He desperately begs his brain to avoid thoughts of Ryo— Of what he had done in the bathroom, and then in the living room… He wouldn’t have done something like that to Ryo… But, he had. 

 

The water runs clear and Akira fills the bowl up to the correct line marked on the inside. He walks back over to the rice cooker and places the bowl inside, shutting the lid and pressing a few buttons before the machine gives a joyful chime and the timer begins. “What else can I help with?” 

 

Akiko looks at Akira from her spot in front of the stove, “You can set the table, and then get ready for mass.” It’s Sunday. Shit. Maybe he should’ve took a couple laps around the block. He didn’t necessarily have to go, and had skipped out on it a few times before… 

 

“I uh… actually have some homework I wanted to catch up on…” 

 

“That’s alright, sweetheart. Just set the table then.” She shoots him an understanding look and Akira appreciates her all the more.

 

Plastic rips and Akira watches Akiko methodically grab strips of raw bacon and place them in the pan on the stovetop. Despite the satisfying crackle of bacon in the pan, and the pleasant aroma spreading through the kitchen, Akira only looks at the package of raw meat on the counter. He catches himself salivating and wills his legs to move. Mindlessly he gets plates and utensils, and wanders into the dining room to set the table. 

 

Once the table is set he makes his way upstairs to his room. The door clicks softly behind him, and now alone in his own room, the scent of Ryo clings to him. His clothes smell like Ryo’s clean detergent, his hair smells like his expensive shampoo… when he puts his face in his hands even his own skin smells like Ryo. Hands that had held him down effortlessly… What is wrong with him? 

 

Akira groans and with his mind made up he moves quickly to grab his used towel from the back of his desk chair. He throws open the door and stalks to the bathroom, locking the door behind him to throw off his clothes and jump straight into the shower. He keeps the bandage on his arm out of the water and gives himself a half-hearted scrub with his own shampoo and soap, just enough to get the smell of Ryo off. Once finished he wraps the towel around his waist and opens the door to go across the hall to his bedroom— 

 

Leaning against the wall is Miki in her pajamas, scrolling on her phone with a towel and a change of clothes tucked under her arm. She glances up at Akira and at first smiles and then sees the faint gash marks down his torso, her smile fading to a frown. His stark white bandaged arm is the next thing she looks at and her eyes go wide, “Akira—“ 

 

“Shhh-!” He puts a finger up to his lips, Miki’s brows furrow and Akira knows he has mere seconds before she starts yelling and demanding to know what’s going on. “Just— keep your voice down,” 

 

“What happened?” 

 

Akira has to think of something fast, but his brain can’t keep up. He desperately tries to think of anything to say, any excuse that feels believable but his mind is blank. Instead, he intelligently states, “Uhhhh… Well, I- We um…” Miki crosses her arms and glares up at him. “It was just an accident! I uh… didn’t listen when Ryo was working on something and um… got a chemical burn.” 

 

“The chemical burn jumped out and scratched you too?” One of her dark eyebrows raises and Akira looks down at his own chest. His healing hadn’t completely gotten rid of the gashes, instead they are smaller and pink on his skin, they almost look like something human could’ve attacked him. 

 

“Um… well no. But, uh… Just don’t worry about it.” 

 

“Don’t worry about it? You look like you got mauled by a wild animal. What the hell were you and Ryo doing?” She asks that last question and when she looks Akira over again her eyebrows raise in surprise and her cheeks warm with blush. “Ohhh my God-!” An understanding washes over her face and she grins mischievously. 

 

“What?” 

 

“I thought you were going to be a virgin forever!” Akira wishes he heard her wrong, she’s laughing now and elbowing Akira in the ribs with a wink, “So hot stuff,” He’s mortified, this is worse than the time she had told him to stop watching porn on the family computer without erasing his history, “How’s the other guy look? Ryo sure did a number on you!” 

 

His face turns scarlet red and he has to shove Miki away as she giggles and teases him, “We did not-“ Akira quickly bites his tongue, what other excuse could he possibly have? He begs his brain for anything and comes up empty handed. “Just— Be quiet!” He grabs her arm to still her annoying onslaught— But instantly pulls his hand away and even takes a step backwards away from Miki. He shouldn’t touch her. He would hurt her. 

 

Ryo’s bruised wrists come to mind and he can tell his expression has changed by the way Miki has stopped laughing. “Akira? What’s wrong? I was only kidding…” 

 

He feels the blood drain from his face, “I- Nothing! I just… I’m not in the mood, Miki.” 

 

“Oh… I’m sorry… You’re okay, right?” He can’t look at her, but can feel her eyes searing into him.

 

“Yep!” Akira gives her a practiced smile and side steps around her to his bedroom door. He shuts it behind himself and presses his back up against the wood frame. And what was he going to tell her? He had absolutely no clue, but he has through breakfast and sermon to come up with a convincing lie. 

 

The Makimura family departs for church after breakfast. Miki had kept looking at him from across the table in that way she does, like she’s trying to decipher some great puzzle. Akira feels guilty for not telling her, he had been keeping so many secrets from her lately and usually they tell each other everything… Telling her what is going on would be dangerous, but it was already bad enough he was attacking Ryo. Miki didn’t need to know anything, she would just get involved and get hurt.

 

Akira fills the cat’s water and food bowls, shaking the kibble in the ceramic bowl until Tako comes out from wherever the black cat had decided to nap. He puts the bowl down and gives Tako’s head a careful pet, and then stands back up to head to his room. The black cat meows at him, rubbing along his ankles and purring. It’s difficult to step around Tako, but Akira manages and the cat leaves him in favor of eating his breakfast. 

 

He’s just a few steps up the stairs when the house phone begins ringing from the entryway. Akira stops and looks back, listening to the ringing as it drones on and on and on. He finds himself back down the stairs and his hand reaches forwards and grabs the receiver off the line and brings it up to his ear, “Hello?” 

 

“Akira!” It’s his mother’s voice, laced with static through the unstable international call, “I don’t have a lot of time honey- your father and I will be back in town next week… Our flight lands thursday, just after one—“ 

 

“Mom? Wha- Why are you guys coming home?” Usually it was only holidays he saw his parents, and even then it wasn’t every single holiday… More like they picked one like Christmas or New Years to come visit. He’s had his birthday presents mailed to him since he was ten years old.

 

“Your father and I just miss you so much, honey! We don’t visit nearly enough— I gotta run, but we’ll see you soon! We love you so much, Akira.” The line goes silent before he can utter another word. 

Chapter 8: Veneration

Summary:

After a few days apart, Akira and Ryo have a phone call and Akira comes over to talk.

The last few days had been grueling. Akira’s appetite was a constant issue, even now he feels the nagging crave for blood on his tongue. At night his dreams were filled with carnage, naked bodies covered in blood writhing against each other. They had taken a turn to become far more lewd, and more often than not he was waking up to sticky sheets and a problem between his legs that he had to attend to. His hand was not enough, he could feel Amon bubbling under his skin with barely contained energy… But he couldn’t just go out and fuck someone. He had never done anything like that in his life, not to mention the possibility of him hurting someone was too high. He couldn’t. During class he could hardly even pay attention at this point, he was constantly dragging his wandering gaze away from anyone that caught his attention; the girl who sat in front of him, a boy from the track team, the new young pretty teacher they had who wore her hair down everyday. It was embarrassing, even if no one had noticed yet, he needed to get a hold of the situation somehow.

 

Monday night Akira had locked himself in his room, one hand shoved over his mouth and the other between his legs. All day long he had tried to tame his thoughts and failed at each turn, and now with the absence of anyone to drool over his mind was filling in the blanks. Smooth pale skin, soft blonde hair, the smell of Ryo in his lungs like a virus. It was unavoidable, this horrible desire he could not quell unless he imagined Ryo in his grasp, pinned underneath him. 

 

Akira hardly gets any sleep that night.

 

It’s early Tuesday afternoon, towards the end of their lunch period and Akira feels like he’s going to explode. He had eaten already, but his body was still not satisfied. It desired another kind of flesh… He sits outside in the grass with Miki and Miko as the two girls chatter away amongst themselves, although he had stopped listening a while ago. Akira was too occupied with keeping his wandering eyes in check. 

 

“—Akira, we’re talking to you.” Miko kicks Akira in the side of his leg to get his attention and he jumps. Miko snorts and Akira scratches the back of his head with a sheepish smile. 

 

“Sorry, what were we talking about?” 

 

“I asked if you did anything fun at Ryo’s.” Miko is sitting practically in Miki’s lap now and her long brunette hair is being braided back by Miki’s deft hands. 

 

“Oh-! Um… Y-yeah I uh… I helped Ryo with some work he had.” He can’t stop staring at the two of them, pressed up against each other like that. Miko is leaning forward to give Miki room for her long braid, and her white blouse is pulled by gravity and Akira catches sight of the swell of her breasts into a pink lacy bra and snaps his eyes right back to the grass. 

 

“That’s all you guys did? Work all weekend?” 

 

“Well- no… I just-“ Akira struggles for words and just shrugs, and after a second of silence he can’t bear the two girls staring at him so he stands to leave, “Sorry- I um.. forgot something-“ 

 

Both girls watch him in confusion as he quickly gathers his things and starts heading across the grass. The dark haired man makes it around the edge of the building before footsteps rush up behind him and he has to stop and turn to see Miki. She had jogged to catch up and huffs and puffs lightly, “Akira… are you okay?” 

 

He can’t even look at her, he keeps his eyes downcast and shoves them into his pockets, “No… I just…” He sighs, “I can’t talk about it with you or Miko— I can’t.”

 

“Alright… What about Ryo?” Miki suggests, as if it’s the most simple thing in the world, “You’ve been moping around since you came home on Sunday.” 

 

“I— Ryo is… I don’t— him I—“ 

 

“You need to talk to someone! Here I saved his number,” She pulls out her pink phone and scrolls for a second before pulling up the contact page for Ryo Asuka. “If you won’t talk to him, maybe I will. He’ll tell me what’s going on.” She’s pressing the ‘call’ button and Akira feels flushed up to his ears as he grabs the phone from her and holds it up to listen.

---

It was so exhausting for Ryo to put up with appearances. He had to give an update on his research for the university, and the meeting had been so very, very boring. Not because the topic was boring; they were investigating the remnants of an unknown ancient civilization. It had originally been his father’s research, but Ryo had been added to the team right before his father’s death, and was now spearheading the endeavor. Of course the only complication was that the traces of this tribe had been in America… and he had left Akira’s parents to delve into the sight they had uncovered. So far they had not reported their findings, but the dig had been only scheduled for the other day so he would give them some time. 

The university was less patient, and over the video call Ryo had to continuously tame his expression back to a friendly smile. Making small talk with people was so unnecessary to him, but when you smiled and acted a certain way people were easier to give you what you wanted. At least that is how Ryo understands humans best… And now with the meeting over he could relax his face with a sigh. 

It was only Tuesday afternoon but Ryo already felt worn thin from stress. He had spent Monday studying the symbols he had found in greater detail, and had done a little unpacking between books. In his father’s possessions he had found a few treasures, like a nice cigarette case and ashtray. He reaches across his desk to the old thin metallic case, popping it open to grab a cigarette. It was his father’s brand, which coincidentally Ryo had acquired a taste for from stealing them so often over the years. He lights the cigarette end with practiced ease, taking a slow drag and letting the smoke billow out into the room. The smoke swirls around in the light hypnotically, and Ryo leans back in the cushioned desk chair to watch the smoke glide in the air, slowly sinking until it stills in the dead air. 

Ryo lets the cigarette hang between his lips and reaches across his desk for one of the many books he had gotten out of his father’s things. He opens the dusty leather tome to the page he had left on the previous evening. There were many symbols drawn in the margins and Ryo was starting to recognize a few. Every so often he pauses with the book tilted in his lap to ash his cigarette, or to take a long drag from it. He reads for so long he has to light another cigarette to puff on. It’s when he finally gets to the list of seventy two demonic spirits he sits up a little straighter in his chair. Blue eyes scan the pages with rapt interest, going through several demons names and briefly reading what they could offer when summoned. 

Bael, Agares… Marbas… They all held similar powers of persuasion, revealing secrets, nothing of real note. And then on the next page Ryo’s eyes focus in on one name; Amon. He carefully begins reading through the description: He is a Marquis great in power… He appeareth like a wolf with a pointed serpents tail and red wings… but at the command of the summoner will putteth on the shape of a man with dog’s teeth beset in a head like raven wings… He telleth of all things past and to come, He procureth fueds and reconcilliation between friends. He can cause a deep lust or hatred… Below the passage is a circular symbol filled with swirling ‘s’ shapes and a three mounded rectangle. Four letters surround the circle in the cardinal directions, together they spell AMON… He transcribes the paragraph and symbol into his journal of notes, taking time to get the sigil just right. 

At the Sabbath… before Ryo had been attacked… he remembers calling a name… not Akira’s name. The more he tries to remember, the further away the answer slips. He can’t truly recall what he had done to start the real Sabbath either, all Ryo remembers is grabbing his beer bottle and standing up to… 

Ryo snubs the cigarette out in the ashtray on his desk and runs his cool hands over his face and through his hair to clutch at his aching head. He’s had plenty of headaches before but this was a pain that blossomed from deep within his body, and he was unable to soothe the agony. His teeth grind together and his body folds over to rest his burning forehead against the cool wood top of his desk, hands fisted in his hair. It helps just a bit, and after a few minutes his head stops throbbing but still aches.

The ringing of his cellphone startles Ryo so badly he jumps and the book in his lap clatters to the ground with a heavy sound. He reaches for the phone across the desk without sitting up much and doesn’t even look at the screen as he slides his finger across to answer the call and put it on speaker. Ryo turns his head to the side so his voice isn’t muffled, “Hello?” 

“Ryo—!” It’s Akira, and the sound of his voice is a welcome comfort. “I… I wanted to um…” The other man huffs and seems to gather his words, “I want to apologize for the other day.” 

“Oh… that.” Ryo hums, and if he was sitting up he’d probably shrug, “It’s perfectly alright, Akira,” 

“It’s not… I hurt you.” Akira’s voice is quiet, strained and small, and it’s infuriating.

“I said it was fine,” He rubs at his temples with his thumb and forefinger in small circular motions, and tries to school his voice to mask his iritation, “Really, it’s not even bad.” His blue eyes focus on the bruised handprints on his wrists, and a shiver runs through his whole body. It’s easy to imagine Akira here if he closes his eyes, coming up behind him and grabbing his wrists to pin them to the desk’s hard surface. 

“Ryo—“ 

“I forgive you, Akira.” There’s the sound of sniffling through the phone, Akira was crying. “Is that why you called me? To apologize?” Ryo tries his best to be gentle, to soothe Akira as to not scare him away again. 

“Yes… but I— I um…” Akira’s sputtering is always a test of patience, and Ryo endures through, “I… I just wanted to hear your voice.” Ryo is stunned into silence at the sentiment, and Akira continues, “I miss you.” 

It’s hardly been over two days since they last saw each other, but Ryo would be a fool to deny Akira the truth, “I’ve missed you too.” The way Akira sighs into the phone makes Ryo’s entire body tingle from head to toe. He really was still such a sweet boy underneath everything else. 

“Can I um… Can I come over? I don’t trust myself around all these people— I can’t focus on anything.” 

He should tell Akira to get a hold of himself, but he had made Akira this way. He was Ryo’s responsibility. “Sure, I’d like to look at how your arm is healing anyways. Do you want me to send a car?” 

“No, I’ll walk.. Um- I’ll see you in a bit!” 

The line clicks off and Ryo rubs his face as he sits up, realizing with a certain giddiness that his headache had stopped before it could become a migraine. He takes just a second to focus and then he’s moving his chair back to pick up the old book and put it back on his desk. Ryo could tidy up his mess. It frankly looked like a hurricane had hit the area, he had a long finished coffee mug graveyard on the edge of the wood surface, and around was a smattering of open books marked with post-it notes. In the center was the clear spot he had laid on and his laptop and phone, which he grabs and tucks in his pocket before standing. 

Ryo had left his boot off for today, and abandoned his crutch by his bed across the room. He hadn’t really even bothered to get dressed… nighttime, daytime… it was all the same really. He would bother putting on clothes other than his sweatpants and t-shirt if he went anywhere… Although, since Akira was coming over, Ryo throws on a sweatshirt to not only cover his wrists but also his unbinded chest. They had not seen each other naked since they were kids, since before either of them had fumbled through puberty and became young adults, and Ryo had grown into his own body. The breasts are just another part of his body, but it was much easier to navigate through life with them binded down. Before heading out of his bedroom Ryo grabs the book he had been reading, and the journal he scribbled notes into. He might as well see what Akira thought about them. 

---

Thankfully Miki had given Akira some privacy for the phone call, and he had given her an excuse about how he didn’t feel good and one trip to the nurse later he was out. He had told Miki he was going straight home, but instead made his way over to Ryo’s apartment. He keeps his eyes downcast on the sidewalk to avoid looking at anyone he passes by. 

Akira knew these thoughts he’s been having weren’t going to stop on their own. And Miki was right, if he wasn’t going to talk about it with anyone else it would have to be Ryo. He would just skirt around the fact that he’d been jerking off constantly thinking about Ryo, and frankly his hand wasn’t really doing it for him anymore. He craves warm smooth skin under his hands and something pulsing with hot blood in his teeth. 

The walk to the towering skyscraper isn’t that bad, and it gives Akira time to sort through his thoughts. He needed to get better at controlling the demon inside him, there had to be some solution or outlet for his frustration. The elevator up is quick and soon Akira is staring at Ryo’s apartment door and knocking. 

It’s only a few seconds and then the door opens and Ryo is standing there smiling at him, “Hey,” His arms stretch open and Akira folds into a tight hug without a second thought. Ryo smells like he always does, but Akira still buries his face in his shoulder and squeezes his arms around Ryo’s middle in a tight hug. He almost doesn’t want to let go, but forces himself to step away before he can get carried away. Ryo was right there in front of him, in his grasp. “So, other than missing me, what’s going on?” 

Akira ignores his teasing and follows as Ryo closes the front door and leads him further into the living space. He hadn’t expected to get right to it, and now all the words he had come up with on his walk were slipping away, “Well I uh… I don’t feel in control of myself… like I might hurt someone.” 

Ryo gestures for him to sit and Akira does, keeping his hands squeezed between his knees, “Hm… Have you been eating enough?” The blonde sits down next to him, slouching back into the couch comfortably. 

“Yes,”

“Have you been getting enough sleep?” 

Really Akira hadn’t. He had spent most of last night rubbing himself raw, “Not really.. My dreams are awful.” He leans forward and braces his elbows on his knees so he can rest his face in his hands, sighing.

“Alright… Well, what do you mean you might hurt someone? Like what you did the other day?” The reminder still stings even though Ryo has forgiven him. 

“N-Not exactly—“ Akira’s whole body is covered in a sheen of nervous sweat, he prays Ryo doesn’t notice and just believes whatever he tells him.

”What are you wanting to do to people, exactly…?” 

Akira bites down on his own tongue, thinking of some way to word it that isn’t completely depraved. He keeps his face in his hands and mumbles into them, “I- Ryo, it’s gross-“

“I won’t think of you any differently… I just want to help, Akira. You can be honest.” 

And that makes Akira’s shoulders practically shake as he tries to swallow down a sob. “I— I want to hold someone down and— and…” He trails off, and Ryo gives him the time to continue, “And fuck and bite and— and-“ He fights back the tears welling up in his eyes, and feels pathetic. 

“Well that’s only natural, Akira. You do have a demon from Hell inhabiting your body.” The blonde sounds much too calm, like the topic they’re discussing is as casual as the weather, “Demons are creatures that demand vices in excess; food, drugs, blood, and sex. Humans are similar, they engage in vices to relax or to avoid their problems. So you just need to get it out of your system.”

“I can’t- I can’t hurt anyone else Ryo-“ 

“You’re going to hurt someone regardless at this point. I’ll give you some money and you can go to the red light district—“ 

“Ryo-“ 

“—and you can find someone willing to take money for what you want to do.” Akira can’t believe what he’s hearing. The idea is so incredulous Akira has to turn his head and look at Ryo, who simply shrugs at him. “What? You can fuck someone and beat the shit out of them or whatever it is you want to do-“

The deepest part of Akira wants to say yes to the offer, and he can practically feel his own mouth moving to blurt it out and instead grinds his teeth together, “I cannot just pay someone to have sex with me!” 

“Why not? Tons of people do it, even if you don’t, someone else will. Prostitutes need to make money too, Akira,”

“Oh my God! No, Ryo!” And finally Ryo seems to listen.

“Alright… well, then who? You need to do something… What about the Makimura girl?” 

“Miki?” Akira is brought back to picturing her in her baggy sleep shirt and her pink panties- He feels physically ill when the thought entices Amon. “No. No, she’s like my sister…” 

Ryo sighs exasperated, “Okay… well, is there anyone else at school you might…?” 

“No- I- Ryo, I can’t.” The irritation rising inside Akira is not his own, it feels misplaced inside him. And with a dawning realization, he senses Amon like a storm on the horizon. What they desire had been offered to them and Akira had denied him, denied them both- But, it hadn’t been exactly what Akira desired… His eyes fixate on Ryo, in his baggy sweatpants and sweatshirt that hides far too much of his slim figure. 

“You can’t? Or you won’t?” Ryo’s face is scrunched in annoyance, “You’re being impossible..” He huffs and stares hard at Akira. “What, then? You’re just going to keep going on like this until you hurt someone- or worse, kill them?” 

The devilman knows he’s right, that eventually he won’t be able to control himself… But what other choice did he have? He wouldn’t ask that of Ryo- he wouldn’t ask that of anyone. “Ryo, I don’t want to argue.. Please- I don’t want to hurt anyone.” He doesn’t want to hurt Ryo again.

The waver in his voice causes an instant change in Ryo, his harsh features soften and Akira is actually stunned when the blonde seems to concede, “Alright, Akira.” 

Notes:

making them fight is all a part of my toxic yaoi agenda /j

Chapter 9: Harbinger

Summary:

Ryo finds a different outlet for Akira’s problem. Something horrid descends upon the Makimura residence.

Ryo hovers close behind Akira, hunched over the body of the demon they had hunted down. It was a split second decision, and during the daytime was risky, but Akira needed some sort of outlet for his frustrations and he wasn’t listening to any of Ryo’s other ideas. He had suggested numerous options and each one was shut down. He had even suggested some other sort of vice to indulge in, like drugs or alcohol, but when Akira too had denied that he decided to see if violence would solve their problems.

 

For a demon war is their lifeblood. Killing brings unbridled joy. The infernal spirit residing in Akira would have to settle for a different kind of carnality.

 

It wasn’t ideal to conflate the violent outbursts with these sexual urges Akira seemed to have, but there were no other options. Well, except Ryo just taking care of Akira himself. And Ryo had decided that would be a bad idea.

 

Akira Fudo was his best friend, and he didn’t want to disgust him in any way. Sure, Ryo had the anatomy of both a male and female, but he was still a man. As much as he had liked Akira on top of him, and almost craved the sensation of helplessness it had brought, Ryo can’t even bring himself to offer up the idea. Being rejected by Akira would sting worse than any pain he had ever experienced, even the thought of it makes his chest feel tight.

 

No. Ryo would keep Akira right where he had him instead of pushing him away further. Just those few days apart had been isolating enough.

 

The alleyway they ended up in was secluded enough, but Akira was still taking in heaving breaths and his bat-like wings extended from his back. His shirt was tattered in the back from where the wings had ripped through, he was splattered with yellow blood, and his hands were no longer human, instead sickly grey and his nails were sharp.

 

He’s hunched over the corpse of the demon, and there’s a snap of bone and the sound of gnawing. Ryo leans over to get a better look, fascinated by Akira’s animalistic nature. By the time the dark haired man realizes what he’s doing he’s already swallowed several bites of demon flesh, blood and spit trailing down his chin. Akira gags, spitting out what he had been trying to eat, and then starts heaving.

 

“Akira,” At the mention of his name his head snaps up from where he had been staring into the monstrous carcass and spitting up. His pupils are blown wide and discolored to a golden sort of haze. It’s not Akira, but at the same time it is. “Do you feel better?”

 

No answer comes from his companion. Akira’s hazy eyes stare at him, his burning gaze crawls up and down his body. He blinks and his glassy brown eyes come back, Akira heaves again and eventually spits the remaining blood out of his mouth and wipes his face off on the corner of his shirt. He does a terrible job at it, but the majority of the ooze is wiped away, only a few stray smears here and there.

 

“Euugh— Sorry,” The larger man sniffles, seemingly disgusted by his own actions. He’s still hunched over the torn apart demon on his hands and knees and Ryo can see his whole body tense up from behind him.

 

Akira’s hand reaches out towards the corpse, and in the tatters of their clothing where their demonoid form ripped through their human skin and clothes he pulls out something— a leather wallet.

 

When they had stumbled upon the demon they were already finishing their meal in the alley, fully transformed, they hadn’t seen the demon rip out of their human skin.

 

Ryo steps closer, “Akira don’t.” He warns, but it’s far too late. Akira is opening the leather wallet, Ryo can see the photo id inside of a smiling middle aged man. A folded plastic insert falls out, and there are several photos. Two baby photos, a smiling family, a man and woman at the altar, smiles bright and filled with hope for their future- Akira’s shoulders quake and the anguished sound he lets out is one Ryo’s never heard.

 

The wallet is dropped and Akira curls forward, crying out with an unrestricted sob and bowing his head. It makes a pitiful picture. Not one Ryo is unaccustomed to however.

 

In Ryo’s own opinion Akira was being over dramatic. He already knew demons merged with humans to enter their realm, why was he sad? It didn’t matter if it was this man or another, humans all die anyways eventually, it wasn’t like Akira knew this man or any of these people. So why was he crying? Especially now after he himself had stumbled upon the former man devouring another human being. After Akira had in turn killed and consumed his flesh.

 

The blonde observes Akira curiously, trying to decipher the great puzzle that is Akira Fudo and his empathy. He finds no answers and steps closer, squatting down next to his sobbing friend. Ryo places a hand on his shoulder and Akira only hiccups and cries harder.

 

“H- He—- I- I—“ Akira can’t even get a word out through the onslaught of tears, hyperventilating in his attempt at speech.

 

Ryo’s hand on his shoulder squeezes, “I know- I know, Akira.” He doesn’t. He cannot understand the other man’s emotional reaction. For all they knew this man could’ve been horrible in life. He could’ve been someone who stole or beat his wife- So why?

 

They need to get moving before anyone spots them, it’s still the middle of the day after all. Akira could cry all he wanted in the car.

 

Ryo squeezes Akira’s broad shoulder again and stands, “We need to go,” He speaks not unkindly, and despite Akira’s sobbing he does nod in understanding.

 

Akira chokes down his crying as best he can and sits back on his haunches. He looks up at Ryo with his tear stained face, his eyes pleading silently.

 

The effect Akira’s miserable expression has on Ryo is instant. His big puppy dog brown eyes are watery and they waver uncertainly. Ryo can’t stand Akira’s sniveling, it makes his chest hurt and his throat constrict uncomfortably. He needs to stop this sensation. He needs to soothe Akira’s aching psyche.

 

In the back of Ryo’s mind he can’t help but feel… prideful. To have Akira, as powerful as he is, brought to his knees in front of him, kneeling as if to a god, praying for salvation from the reality of his sins. Only Ryo can see Akira this broken. Only he can pick the pieces up and put them back together picture perfect.

 

“It’s alright, c’mon now.” Ryo extends his hand to Akira. “Don’t think about it.”

 

Akira’s hand hesitates and then he is carefully clasping their hands together, very conscious of the pointed tips of his claws. It’s a little difficult to hold onto his slick hand, dripping with warm ichor, but Ryo manages to haul him up to his feet, as tall as he is now.

 

“Did that help?” Ryo asks once again, and despite his better judgement he lets his hand linger in Akira’s grasp. He’s so close now Ryo has to tilt his chin up to look at his face, and his expression is hard to read.

 

“A little… well- until that happened…” The dark haired man looks down between them at their joined hands, seemingly lost in his own thoughts. His face is streaked with tears and stained with blood, he looks a mess and Ryo only feels a little guilty that he thinks Akira looks good this way.

 

Akira’s hand tightens briefly, Ryo should pull away and put some distance between them, for safety, but Akira is shifting closer. “Can I— Let me just-“

 

That big warm hand leaves Ryo’s and then both of Akira’s hands wrap around his sides and upper back. And the blonde is pulled into a crushing embrace, Akira’s chin on his shoulder and his breath leaves goosebumps on Ryo’s neck.

 

“Can I hold you for a sec?” Akira whispers between them, sounding almost strained as he breathes heavy in Ryo’s shoulder and hair.

 

“Of course,” Ryo hates how breathless he sounds, but it’s hard not to be with Akira half transformed and acting like this after he tore a demon apart. He’s mindful of the folded wings still protruding from Akira’s back as he wraps his arms up around Akira to rub down his back, just under where the wings have emerged. It’s meant to be a soothing action, but Akira presses closer with a choked whine, his shoulders shaking.

 

Ryo should draw a line on the physical contact. Akira desired another kind of physicality after all, it seemed almost dirty for Ryo to touch him like this. Like he was intruding on Akira’s intimacy, his carnal desires for flesh. But, Ryo couldn’t deny him a thing. If Akira asked him to— he would. He would do anything.

 

It’s not a surprising thought to Ryo, he’s already known he would do anything for Akira his whole life. Nothing was different now.

---

 

 

Miki was only a little annoyed when Akira wasn’t home like he said he was going to be. No doubt he was at Ryo’s, so he was fine but still he didn’t have to lie to her. She’s only mildly jealous that Ryo is occupying so much of Akira’s time, but if Akira was happy what was the harm?

 

“Miki, are you coming with us?” Her mother pauses in the doorway, and Miki looks up from the couch and shakes her head. They were off to a candlelight vigil for a recent disappearance at their church. Taro and her father were already outside.

 

“No, I’m gonna take a bath and head to bed early I think.”

 

“Alright, we won’t be very long.” They both smile at each other and with that her mother is gone, shutting the front door behind her.

 

Miki stands and stretches, and makes her way up to the bigger bathroom near her parents’ room. It’s a larger space than the one she shares with Taro and Akira, with two sinks and a closed off bathtub and shower behind a sliding screen. She could just use the bathtub up on the third floor, but honestly it wasn’t very relaxing with Taro’s bath toys and Akira’s piled up clothes in the corner. Ugh.

 

The dark haired girl leans over and plugs the tub with the stopper, and turns on the water to a suitable temperature. Somewhere past warm and on its way to being too hot almost. She leaves that to fill the tub and heads out of the bathroom to go grab some clothes for after. It’s a quick step down the hall to her room and she grabs a big t-shirt and some underwear out of her dresser.

 

She steps back out into the hallway, and a sudden wave of anxiety washes over her. The hairs on the back of her neck stand on end and she looks both ways down the hallway like she’ll see someone. Nobody is there, and Miki lets out an uneasy sigh. She only on edge because she’s all alone in the house and that family had gone missing— How does a whole house of people go missing one night without a trace? Their car was still in the driveway. No bags packed. Cellphones left behind…

 

Miki locks the door to the bathroom behind her, even though it’s only her in the house, it makes her feel just a little more at ease. She turns off the bathtub faucet, dipping the tips of her fingers through the water to feel the temperature. Steam rises from the tub, and the water is hot, almost too much but Miki finds she can soak longer if the water is scalding.

 

With easy movements she shucks off her shirt in one fluid movement, unhooking her bra and tossing the clothes in the direction of the hamper. Miki takes off the rest of her clothing and stares at herself in the mirror for a second. She purses her lips and turns this way and that, looking at the curves of her hips, her ass, her breasts. She cups them and pushes them together, and for a moment it’s like she has a fuller figure and can wear a low cut shirt like Miko to expose her cleavage. Miki huffs and lets go of her own body, unsatisfied with the reality. She assesses her face, her hair… There’s an almost eerie sensation when she meets her own gaze, like she’s being watched, but it’s only her own reflection.

 

You’re being silly, Miki . She just shrugs off the tingle down her spine and turns away to approach the tub. The sliding door is shut behind her and she carefully steps over the edge and stands with both feet in the warm water.

 

A noise makes Miki lift her head and cross her arms over her chest, frightened someone may see her in her undress even though the door is locked. “Hello?” She calls, holding her breath for an answer and when none comes she tells herself that it’s only the cat. Surely Tako was just messing around in the hallway, or scratching at the door or something.

 

Miki sinks into the steaming water right up to her shoulders, lying back with a pleased sigh. It feels calming in contrast to her hammering heart, soothing her mild anxiety. She could start washing herself but she decides to soak and enjoy the heat of her bath…

 

Just as Miki’s closing her eyes to finally relax, she feels the water move around her ankles, like a drain is sucking the water away from her. Except the drain isn’t open. The pressure around her ankles increases suddenly and she only has time to shriek as some sort of force pulls her ankles and drags her upper half completely under the water.

 

Miki makes an effort to hold her breath, desperately thrashing her limbs in the water, trying to get a hand on the ledge, a foot— anything. But the water is somehow holding her in place, keeping her pinned with her back to the tub’s floor and her head under the surface. She looks for anything that could be attacking her and sees nothing but liquid— Why?! Why can’t I move!?

 

There isn’t enough air in her lungs, they’re burning in pain from the lack of oxygen and she can’t break the water’s surface. Miki tries to keep her mouth closed, but her body craves air and her mouth flies open. Water flows into her mouth, her lungs—

 

The corners of her vision start to fade into black, her head spins— I’m going to die— She thinks distantly, reaching out for anything and—! Her fingers finally breach the water and grip the side of the tub. With a rush of adrenaline Miki pulls herself up, up— and then she’s coughing and heaving water out of her lungs violently. It hurts, but the first clear breath of air she gets to her lungs and body drives her to move. She gets her other hand on the edge and kneels up, almost comically easy from how the water had constricted her beforehand.

 

Miki practically throws herself over the edge of the tub, gasping in air. She scrambles out of the tub, only able to get a few steps away before she hears the sloshing of water behind her. There is only time to make for the door, and when liquid wraps around her ankle firm, she is thrown to the floor from the momentum face first. She cries out in pain and her vision swims with black dots and squiggles.

 

The offending water snakes up her calf, her thighs, and Miki screams at the top of her lungs as the force begins to pull her backwards into itself.

Notes:

did anyone else think i was gonna make akira and ryo kiss because i was so close i had to restrain myself like a rabid dog

Chapter 10: Unholy Baptism

Summary:

Akira walks into the scene at the Makimura residence.

Notes:

yall i came downstairs the other morning and my mom was watching devilman crybaby it was like whiplash

anyways enjoy this akira pov chapter, i wanted all of this from his perspective and kind of merged crybaby with the ova for this chapter

“I’ll drive you home, if you like.” Ryo offers to Akira after they’re done at his apartment. It was a quick stop to get cleaned up and eat something, get a clean change of clothes. 

“Sure, let’s go,” The two of them pile back into Ryo’s sleek white sports car. 

A light sprinkle of rain has started and Ryo flicks on the windshield wipers, Akira lets himself get lost in the rivulets of water running across the passenger window. He stares at the passing city landscape, focuses on the sounds in the car- the patter of rain, the radio turned down low, Ryo’s calm steady heartbeat and breaths to his side… Always so calm and cool and collected. Back in the alleyway Ryo’s heartbeat had only picked up ever so slightly watching Akira fight, just a tip over his normal pace. When had he memorized the fixed thrum of Ryo’s heart? 

Akira stops his brain right there. It was bad enough he was having all sorts of lewd dreams and thoughts about Ryo, he didn’t need to get his emotions all twisted up too. The only reason he feels like this is because of Amon. At least, that is what Akira tells himself. Before the Sabbath things had been fine between them. Akira and Ryo talked every so often- and sure Akira had in the past waited around the phone or computer for days on end, waiting, hoping that Ryo would speak to him. Give him a single morsel of attention so Akira could cling to it like a lifeline. He denies the way his stomach tied in knots when Ryo had taken his hand in the alleyway. And he ignores the pestering rise of Amon in his subconscious, he can practically feel the demon’s mirth at his distress. 

The car is parked on the quiet residential street right in front of the Makimura house. Akira knows he needs to get up and leave now, but he doesn’t want to really. He wants to bask in Ryo’s presence like a moth to a flame- but in the pit of his stomach he can feel the nagging pull of arousal unfulfilled, of Amon and his desires. It wasn’t wise to be around Ryo like this, and hunting that demon had only helped so much. 

Despite his best judgement, Akira looks over to Ryo and he looks as gorgeous as ever. It’s probably just his dick thinking for him, but Ryo looks heavenly in the dim dusk lighting. The delicate swell of his lips, the curve of his nose, his long eyelashes- they all are illuminated by the faint lights down the street shining in through the rain splattered windows. With the rain streaking down the windows it obscures the light and twists it, making it dance across Ryo’s face and making his eyes twinkle. He smiles faintly when he notices Akira looking at him, and his blonde eyelashes bat and he seems almost feminine in a way. Pretty.

Do it. 

Amon’s gruff voice nearly makes Akira jump. He denies any understanding of what Amon is asking- no, demanding him to do. But he knows. Akira knows all too well. He looks down at Ryo’s pink lips. He wants to close the short distance between them and— and-

Akira chews on the inside of his cheek, the sharp pain brings him back to the present and he quickly composes himself, fisting his hands in his jeans. 

“Thanks for giving me a ride- and trying to help me with uhm…” Shit- Why did he have to be so awkward? Everything was fine until Amon— 

“Anytime, Akira.” Ryo busies himself with fishing out a cigarette from a crumpled pack, pulling out a lighter as well. “If anything else like that happens be sure to call me like you did, alright?” His icy blue eyes look at Akira and he balances the cigarette between his lips to light it- all it does it get Akira to swallow hard and nod stupidly, fixed on Ryo’s lips as he puffs on the cigarette. 

“Y-Yeah-! I’ll um-“ Akira unbuckles himself, fumbling a little as he opens the passenger door, “I’ll see you tomorrow.” He says, trying not to sound too desperate or hopeful.

He watches the smoke billowing out of Ryo’s mouth, the blonde smiling at him and taking the cigarette between his fingers to speak, “See you tomorrow, Akira.” 

Akira smiles back and exits the car, bracing himself in the light rain. He gives Ryo a quick final wave and shuts the passenger door of the sleek vehicle, and then he’s walking up the sidewalk towards the house. He hears the idling car pull off into the rain behind him, and feels like he can almost relax. Ryo is safely on his way home, away from Akira’s leering hungry eyes and his disgusting wants. 

Once his hand makes contact with the front door, his senses go on high alert. It’s jarring, and when he unlocks the door and pushes it open there’s an unease heavy in the air. Akira’s own heart pounds between his ears, and he can feel his body tensing up as if to fight— Surely it’s just the anxiety he has building up over his… feelings for Ryo. 

It’s hard to even tell who’s the one desiring after him- Amon or himself. Did he feel like this before the Sabbath..? 

Akira questions himself as he shuts the front door and enters the eerily silent home properly. He shucks off his shoes, noting that only Miki’s are still by the door. The rain wasn’t so bad he was drenched, but it would be nice to get out of the damp clothing anyways so he starts for the stairs. He could get changed for bed and try to forget what he had done earlier that evening.

A sound from up the stairs makes Akira stop in place and look up, focusing his eyes into the dark hallway. He strains his ears, the wind outside howls, the rain has gotten worse, thunder and lightning cracks outside… Past that is the sound of the house, windows shuttering against the weather, Akira’s own breathing, water sloshing from upstairs- the bathroom. He hears Miki gasp for breath and the water splashing again, but there’s too much splashing… like there’s a struggle. 

His feet move further up the steps quickly, and just at the top he hears Miki gasping again desperately— There’s a thud from the door down the hall to his right, about ten feet away and then his blood runs cold from what follows. 

Miki lets out a blood curdling scream. 

Akira is already running down the hallway, he reaches for the doorknob to the bathroom and his feet catch in the carpet. He’s about two feet too far from the door and when he looks down at his feet… they’re sinking down into the floor, the surface now like quicksand as it sucks him downwards and restricts his legs. 

There’s a guttural yell Akira lets out, inhuman as he bares his fangs and reaches down with his claws to try and rip into the offending floor. Like an ooze the floor reaches up and grabs his hands and arms, pulling them down with his legs as he sinks further. Now up to his waist in the floor and all his limbs restricted Akira actually panics, flexing his limbs to try and free himself to no avail. It is then Amon who snaps through his mind like lightning, quick to act on instinct- 

Akira’s hair flows back to half-formed horns and red crackling energy surges forward like a beam straight into the enemy. The liquid like demon spits him out then, squealing in pain and shrinking back into the ground where it disappears completely. Now free Akira rattles the doorknob to the bathroom, and then he pounds on the locked door with a fist, “Miki! Miki open the door!” 

There’s no answer, there’s no sound coming from behind the door either and Akira rips the door right off the hinges and tosses it aside. In the center of the bathroom there’s a mass of water, bulbous and gelatinous looking as it stands and encapsulates Miki completely. Her eyes are rolled back with only the whites showing, her hands rest around her neck loosely and Akira can see the slow bubbles that float up out of her open mouth. 

Again Amon is the one to act first, pure raw drive and instinct from eons of battles- their body surges with flames, scorching as he lunges straight toward Miki. The water around her dissolves, the demon shrieks and its pale bony body is revealed underneath. Their main concern rests with Miki, and they grab her wrist and yank her naked body forward and out of the liquid. She slumps against him, seemingly unconscious and Akira quickly tries to find purchase on her slick body to haul her backwards. 

He’s stumbling back too far, and falls with Miki on top of him, banging his head back against the opposite wall of the hallway on his landing. When he opens his eyes to prepare for an attack he finds the demon has disappeared, and he looks up and down the hallway frantically trying to locate the enemy. They’re still close, he can practically feel them breathing on him— 

Akira looks down at Miki limp in his lap, not even her chest moving to breathe, and another surge of adrenaline hits him. It’s probably too rough the way he throws her onto her back and stares down at her naked chest, past skin and muscle and sinew to her heart— still beating faintly, but on either side of her chest her lungs are filled with water. He grabs her chin, tilts it up, and starts to lean in to try and give her some air. 

He stops when Miki’s eyes fly open, and instead of her coughing up water or sucking in air her pupils dilate and the corners of her mouth split into an unnatural grin. Her small delicate hands come up and seize around Akira’s neck, squeezing with a strength that is no longer human and leaves him wheezing. He grabs at her hands, trying to pull them off or wedge his own fingers beneath the iron grip, but all Miki does is begin to laugh and laugh and laugh. 

They struggle on the ground, rolling over on another until Akira ends up flat on his back with Miki on top of him. He gasps around the hands digging into his windpipe, and despite the burning pain he doesn’t want to hurt Miki. She was clearly not herself, and he didn’t know if he could even break free without hurting her human body. However, Amon has no qualms about lashing out, so he does- he plants a foot firm on Miki’s midsection and kicks her away hard. She’s thrown back down the hallway and Akira sits up, coughing and gulping in air desperately as he rubs his red neck. 

Miki is already standing back up, giggling uncontrollably as she sways. Her eyes are burning with an intensity Akira’s never seen in her normally kind gaze, one he recognizes in himself instantly. Bloodlust. Possession.

“That’s it… you can’t hold back forever, Amon.” Miki, or rather the demon inside her, remarks, standing a few paces down the hall. 

Akira stands, getting his bearings again- and the floor underneath him turns to mush. Tendrils extend from the ground, wrapping around his ankles and as he looks down he can see Miki move in his peripheral, a blur of pale skin coming straight towards him. He relies on a memory of Amon’s previous battles, of countless foes and enemies of varying ability. His body heats up to a dangerous degree, coming off him in waves of blazing flashes as he concentrates on the sensation of burning from the inside out. The ground beneath him sizzles and squeals, retracting and spitting his feet out like a bad meal. Miki realizes too late what he’s doing and he lunges for her, the air around her sizzles with vapor like water burning away to nothing. She cries out and dodges his grasp just barely, slipping to the side and around him to go down the hall towards the stairs— towards the front door! 

He spins on his heel and starts after her. Before his possession he had never been the faster of them, Miki always, always was quicker, more agile. And now, despite his transformation, he worries he still won’t be fast enough to catch up. 

The front door is already open and he runs straight out into the rain, the sky dark and billowing with grey clouds. His socks get soaked on the wet pavement, and one glance down the street confirms Miki is booking it at full speed, and he’s chasing after her. She rounds a corner and leaps over a wooden fence of a neighbor’s backyard, and Akira is following her still. Over the fence, through the backyard, over another fence- there’s a dog chained up barking at them both as they race through the slick grass. He’s gaining on her. They’re nearing the end of a row of houses and Miki leaps over the final fence like she’s running hurdles at track. 

They’re back in the street again, and the flash of headlights and the squealing of tires is all Akira can really comprehend. In front of him Miki runs towards the oncoming vehicle and with one hand braced on the hood she bounds over the car effortlessly while it comes to a screeching halt a few feet from Akira. Through the windshield he can see the driver, smoldering cigarette hanging out of their open mouth, familiar blue eyes wide with panic- It’s Ryo. 

There is no time to stop and explain, he has to catch Miki before she hurts herself, or someone else. Instead of rudely jumping over the vehicle, Akira runs past, pushing his legs as fast as he can against the cold pavement. Miki has gained some ground again, and he nearly loses her when she dives through the brush at the edge of the local park. He snaps twigs out of his way forcefully, emerging on the other side of the hedges he can see her clearly running across the rain soaked field. 

Under the cover of harsh rain and the late dusk Akira lets his wings emerge from his back in one quick flourish. The pointed tips rip through his shirt and the black leathery wings flap behind him, using them to gain momentum and propel himself just that bit faster. Closer- closer— gotcha-! Akira dives for Miki, managing to grab one of her ankles and stop her dead in her tracks. She’s sent to the ground face first, but is quick to growl and twist around to kick her other leg in his direction. He grabs that foot and yanks both her legs closer, using the opportunity to spring on top of her with his full weight. Her arms are trapped under his bulk, she screams and yells and hisses and scratches at him, but Amon ducks their head down into her personal space- He isn’t- 

Their lips connect, Miki’s are impossibly soft and damp from the rain- Akira wants to crawl out of his skin until he realizes that Amon is breathing in- He’s drawing the liquid from Miki’s lungs. The pseudo-kiss ends just as quickly as it began, and as Akira draws back the liquid too goes with him until all of it is drawn out and he’s forcefully spitting the otherworldly substance out. It writhes on the ground, and Akira watches as Amon lets their body heat up again, sparking with flames from Hell itself and he plunges both hands into the liquid. Their claws sink into something and they pull and pull and out of the dissipating water forms a corporeal demon in his grasp. 

“Ghelmer- you’re so scrawny without your water.” His voice is gruff, deep, unlike his own. 

The demons face is elongated like a dog and they almost seem skeletal, no muscle or fat under their nearly translucent skin that stretches over their horns. Akira’s dark hands fist into their neck, pressing down hard and digging the tops of his nails into the flesh. 

“Amon- listen I was just following orders-! You understand— Gghh-“ 

“Your sniveling is pathetic,” Their grasp tightens dangerously, Ghelmer scrabbles against his grip as they choke. Akira is sure he hears the demon begging for mercy before his claws twitch and he’s ripping his head clean off his shoulders. He lets the skull drop to the wet grass and flicks his hands to get rid of the blood. 

Miki is shivering on the ground, naked and soaked from the harsh rain battering them both. Akira makes an effort to keep his eyes trained on her unconscious face as he kneels down in the dirt next to her. He slides one hand under her knees and the other around her back and lifts her up bridal style, tucking her in close to his body. 

The devilman turns back towards the way they had come through the park, and through the sheets of rain is Ryo coming closer across the field, gun drawn. “Akira!” 

“Ryo!” He does walk a little faster to meet him halfway, and Ryo looks about as half drenched as Akira. His coat is repelling a lot of the rain but his blonde hair is soaked and sticking to his forehead and neck. The blonde looks at Miki with a raised eyebrow, asking silently what was going on. “There were two demons in the house attacking Miki after you dropped me off, one of them possessed her, but I think she’s okay?” 

“She’s possessed?” 

“Not anymore, I took care of it.” Akira nods his head back in the direction of the demon corpse and Ryo looks around his shoulder to glance at it.

“Akira,” Ryo’s blue eyes meet his and they’re cold, calculating, brows furrowed, and Akira doesn’t like the tone Ryo uses, “ -nobody can see us. Not even her.” 

“She’s knocked out cold, I doubt she’ll remember anything-“ 

“We aren’t taking any chances. What did she see before you showed up in the house? Hm?” Ryo asks, and the audible click of the pistol’s hammer being drawn back is like a bolt through Akira. He wouldn’t. Ryo would not do something like that. 

“Ryo.” Akira had meant to sound calm, but his voice lowers an octave, “You aren’t being serious-“ 

“If this girl tells anyone anything it’s over- The government will swoop in and most likely do experiments on you, or use you as a weapon for war, and they’ll kill this girl anyways. Or lock her in a cell to rot, and in that case wouldn’t she be better dead?” The pistol is drawn up and Akira turns his body to position Miki out of the line of sight, so Ryo is pointing the gun at him. 

“She’s not going to tell anyone! Do you even hear yourself? We’re talking about killing a human being- not a demon!” 

“Human, demon, anyone that gets in the way needs to be taken care of. Now, hand her over and I’ll make it quick.” Ryo is emphasizing his words by gesturing with the pistol, still pointed firmly at the two of them. Akira can’t believe the words coming out of his mouth, how could Ryo say something so cruel? How could he believe Miki would endanger them even if she did know something? He was being completely unreasonable. 

“Ryo,” As subtly as Akira can, he shifts Miki into one arm, keeping intense eye contact with Ryo to keep him occupied and focused on him. “I’m not giving you Miki.” 

“You can live with me, or die with her then. Make your choice.”

Akira already had made his choice after all. Ryo was being ridiculous, and his pride wouldn’t allow him to back down, not without a confrontation like this. Akira steels himself, taking a deep breath in and on the exhale he moves as fast as he is able. He steps to the side and with his free hand reaches up and over to grab Ryo’s hand over the gun and aim it straight up over his head. Ryo’s finger twitches against the trigger but he doesn’t pull it, and when Akira starts to twist his wrist and wrest the gun from his grasp Ryo doesn’t put up any fight really. All bark and no bite. 

He tosses the firearm aside, far into the rain slick park and just as quickly as he had before he grabs a fistful of Ryo’s soaked shirt and yanks him forward forcefully. Akira loses himself in his anger, he can see the flash of fear cross Ryo’s face and it delights him. He pulls Ryo up off the ground and growls in his face, and the smaller man grabs onto his forearm while his feet dangle an inch or so off the ground. His eyes are wide and blown out, pupils searching Akira’s for something, and Akira meets his gaze with burning intensity.

“If you ever try anything like that again I’ll-“ He can’t even say it, whatever he had been planning on saying. Some stupid meaningless threat that Akira would probably never carry out in reality, and he knew he wouldn’t… He couldn’t hurt Ryo, he had already done that before and if he hurt him anymore he wasn’t sure he’d forgive himself. 

“You’ll what?” Ryo’s eyes have narrowed to slits, and his voice is quiet, a whisper just barely heard above the thundering rain. 

Akira wants to drop Ryo right on his ass and teach him a lesson, but he lowers him to his feet and loosens his fist from his shirt. Sure he wouldn’t hurt Ryo physically, but he could try to hurt him another way, “I won’t ever speak to you again.” He keeps his eyes focused on Ryo’s, looking into the vast icy blue irises and their staring contest is weighted by the precariousness of the situation. And for all of Akira’s kindness he can’t help but feel cruel when that does get Ryo to look away, dejected as his jaw sets firm and tense and he nods. 

“If she remembers anything, I’ll talk to her and it won’t be a problem.” Akira says a bit easier, trying to cut through the tension that’s built between them. 

“Alright,” Ryo still doesn’t look at him, but begins to shrug his coat off and then offers it forwards, “My car is around the corner, cover her up and I’ll drive you both back.” 

 

Notes:

amon gay asf he wants that cookie bad

Chapter 11: Not for Humankind

Summary:

Akira and Ryo set up some home security in the Makimura house. Amon visits Ryo’s dreams.

Notes:

this chapter is mostly porn um…. there wasn’t enough horny vibes in the story especially regarding Ryo so I became possessed and wrote this in like two sittings

took a lot of inspo from Nosferatu (2024) for the freaky eternal dark romance vibes

As a precaution Akira allows Ryo to bug the house. Why Ryo has this stuff already in his car is beyond Akira, but he follows him around after getting Miki in bed, noting every spot he’s bugged with a microphone and camera. The lamp in the living room, the fake plant above the tv, the ceiling light in the hallway upstairs as well as the kitchen light. The pair looks up the final staircase to the third floor, all that’s up there is Akira’s room.

 

“Do you want me to…?” Ryo looks up at Akira, and the taller man thinks it over. Does he really want Ryo to bug his room? What if a demon snuck in while he was at school? He can’t take that chance.

 

“Yeah… just uh… no camera, yeah?” Akira feels silly for even having to specify, he’s sure Ryo wouldn’t put a camera in his bedroom. That would be crossing an unspoken line.

 

“Of course not.”

 

And Akira leads the way up the steps, his nerves building with each step. Nobody was home and he was leading Ryo up to his bedroom… alone. It was wrong to think of it that way, especially after what had happened outside… Ryo trying to shoot Miki. His blood still boils from the argument, and for a moment he had reduced Ryo to something small and insignificant in his grasp. Fragile and human, easy to break. And it would be so easy to break Ryo, he hadn’t even attempted to fight back in the parking lot because he knew it was useless. Would he fight now? If Akira decided to finish what he started outside…?

 

The door to Akira’s room is opened and he flicks on the light, standing to the side to let Ryo walk in and look around for a place to set his equipment. His hand clenches around the doorknob, and the idea of shutting and locking Ryo in here is overwhelming. Not that he would even need to lock the door, Akira was much faster, all he needed to do was grab Ryo and throw him on the bed and teach him a lesson.

 

Yes, do it.

 

That nearly does it, Amon nearly breaks his resolve. Akira lets go of the door and steps forward, watching as Ryo picks a spot on his book shelf to tuck the small microphone into. It isn’t hidden particularly well, but there was no need when Akira was the one asking for his house to be bugged.

 

Ryo turns to him now that he’s finished, and looks around his room again and smiles softly, “You know I’ve never been in your room before,” He’s looking at the photos Akira has taped up along his wall by his bed.  Theres a lot of him and Miki and the rest of the Makimuras, on vacation, at the zoo, Miki and Akira at a track meet with their medals. And then there are older photos, of Akira’s parents, him between them grinning wide, and a decent amount of him and Ryo. Playing in the snow together, in their uniforms on their first day of primary school, Ryo with a deep frown on his little face and Akira beaming holding his hand. “It’s cute.”

 

Akira can’t help but be embarrassed, Ryo’s room was so grown up in comparison with his own. Hell, he had manga on his bookshelf and thank God Ryo hadn’t lingered on that. His bed is unmade and messy, there’s clothes piled up in the corner by the hamper and not actually in the hamper, and the trashcan under his desk is full of used tissues. Akira pushes his desk chair a little more in front of it, feeling vulnerable with Ryo in his personal space like this observing everything.

 

“Cute?” He clears his throat and Ryo hums, nodding and there’s a playful glint in his eyes.

 

“I don’t know what I expected, but it suits you.” Oh.

 

Akira can feel the flush of heat up his neck and to the very tips of his ears. He hadn’t been expecting Ryo to disarm him so easily with a simple comment and bash of his full eyelashes. God he was helpless - But, no, that was untrue. Ryo had been the helpless one minutes ago, with a loaded gun pressed to Miki’s head like she was nothing... His fingers tighten around the back of the desk chair until his knuckles are white, his wrath has simmered but only just enough… His hands itch to wrap around Ryo’s throat, his delicate wrists, to hold him down like he had before, only this time he wouldn’t let up. He wants to grab a fistful of that impossibly silky blonde hair and yank Ryo’s head back so he can bite and lick into his throat, make him squirm, reach between his thighs and spear him on his cock.

 

“Walk me out?” Ryo asks, and Akira nods dumbly, his mind somewhere else entirely but he knows he needs to get Ryo out of here before he actually does something.

 

He leads the way back down to the front door, and the rain outside has let up to a light sprinkle again when he opens it and looks out into the night. Ryo doesn’t bother to put his coat back on, he keeps it tucked under his arm while he fishes his keys out of his jeans pocket.

 

“Akira, I’ll still see you tomorrow?” The devilman nods much too quickly, almost offended that Ryo even needed to ask. “Pick you up after school then?”

 

“Yeah, sounds good.” He watches Ryo leave, counting each step he takes and it’s only when the sleek white car is pulling away does Akira shut the front door and finally let out a shaky breath.

 

On his way up to his own room he stops outside Miki’s cracked door, peering in at her sleeping form under the thick duvet of her bedding. She’s no longer shivering, and her breathing is even and slow like her heartbeat, steady and alive. He backs away and climbs the final staircase to the third floor, shutting his own bedroom door behind him and finally he’s alone.

 

It’s filthy the way his body instantly starts to heat up all over, and he zeroes in on the pile of dirty clothes in the corner of his room. He stalks over and rummages through until he pulls out the clothes Ryo had lended him days ago, they still smell like Ryo’s soap. Akira can’t help but feel perverted as he brings the shirt up to his face and huffs in the scent. It isn’t like the real thing, but it still is unmistakably Ryo. He doesn’t bother getting his pants off, he just stumbles over to his bed and undoes them enough to get his hand around his hardening cock.

 

Akira lays down with his face in the pillows and his knees bent up so he can buck into his own fist, already slick with precum to help glide his hand along the length. He thinks about Ryo, splayed out under him with his blonde hair spread out like the rays of the sun. His normally neutral expression would be twisted in pleasure, cheeks tinted rosy and eyes unfocused and glassy. Akira wants to bite and maim but he’s overcome by his fantasy, he would be good for Ryo. He wouldn’t hurt him, he wanted him to feel good. He’s panting into his pillow now, a wet spot of drool building from his open mouth in the fabric. Maybe Ryo’s hands would grab his face, guide him closer to kiss him. And Ryo would be good at it, he was great at everything he did, Akira would feel clumsy but it would be nice. Kissing Ryo would be nice.

____

 

“Ryo…”

 

A faint whisper in the darkness, something calls his name, calling out to him.

 

“ Ryo… Ryo… Ryo..”

 

The gruff voice gets louder, closer, and Ryo can feel his legs begin to move on their own accord, towards the sound. He blinks and he’s in a lush forest, tropical plants he’s never seen in his whole life cover the mossy ground, and the night sky twinkles above head with an unfathomable amount of stars and colorful swirls. A night sky untainted by humankind.

 

“ Ryo… it is you who has awakened me from my eternal slumber,” A shadow builds in the foliage in front of him, yellow eyes igniting like flames in the dark, “ You, who have called me from the depths of Hell, my master,” The shadowy figure steps forward, incorporeal and like a thick crimson mist, “ You are bound to me , as I am to you.”

 

With each step the demon takes his form shifts and molds, becoming more and more real with each passing moment. He looks like Akira- like devilman. Ryo looks up at the hulking figure, deep red skin scarred by battle, thick black fur covering his legs and chest, leathery bat-like wings from his back and those horns, they are unmistakably the same ones that Akira now holds. By all accounts Ryo should be frightened, but he feels this enigmatic pull towards the familiar beast, and can’t even move.

 

“Amon.” Ryo states it like a command, and the demon drops to his knees, now low enough to meet his gaze eye to eye without Ryo having to look up.

 

“ You are fated to me. To him. You must remember.”

 

“Remember what?” A certain desperation takes hold of the demon in front of him and huge claws grab Ryo’s shoulders, practically wrapping around his human body and Amon shakes his shoulders.

 

“ Listen to me— You must release this prideful curse. You have to remember as we once were- As you once were.”

 

“And how was I before?” Ryo asks, unsure what Amon is even getting at. He’s speaking in riddles at this point, but Ryo should get as much information as he can so he can make some sense of it all.

 

Amon gazes at him and his shoulders sag, relaxing as his grip loosens and he rolls a lock of Ryo’s hair between his thumb and forefinger gently, reverently. “ Like a god. Radiant, shining, brilliant. As you are now.” His other clawed hand slides around his neck, not squeezing but just holding possessively and Amon uses a calloused finger on his chin to turn Ryo’s head this way and that.

 

The vision melts away and Ryo is on his back, he can feel the soft grass and moss beneath him, and his hands fist into the foliage. His mouth is open, and the noise that comes out is unlike him- well , it’s a sound he’s rarely made; a soft mewling moan as his legs are pushed high up by ruby colored hands, folding him in half. A huge scorching wet tongue licks incessantly between his legs, and his whole body is flushed warm, too warm… His hands find those huge horns, and it startles Ryo to have something so tangible and inhuman under his fingers. He’s dreaming- he has to be having a dream.

 

Amon pulls back, mouth and tongue glistening with evidence of Ryo’s own enjoyment between those fangs he’s seen tear into flesh like a knife through butter. It’s frightening, and the demon grins wide at him, “You don’t have to be scared.”

 

“I’m not.”

 

The beast actually snorts, “You probably would like this better, hm?” And the demon’s form changes, shifts and molds into something human. All too familiar kind brown eyes, wild black hair, deep tanned skin- Akira. His grin has gotten wider, predatory in nature and the expression he wears is one he’s only seen on Akira when he was reveling in bloodshed. Ryo’s face warms and he has to look away when the demon winks up at him and starts licking back down his thighs. Why? Why him? Why did it have to be Akira?

 

“You know why.” Amon responds against his skin, scraping his teeth- Akira’s teeth along his skin and making Ryo shiver. At the press of slick fingers against his cunt he pulls his hands up and covers his face, stifling the pathetic noises he’s letting out as they slide into him slowly, like they’ve done it hundreds of times over. Even his tongue laps at Ryo like he knows exactly what the blonde likes, what makes Ryo bite into his palm and keen, trying to clamp his legs shut but they’re held forcefully open. His nails dig into Ryo’s skin, mixing the pain with his pleasure, and his mouth travels up. The hot wet length of his tongue laps over his balls and to his weeping dick, and he mouths at Ryo lazily, pumping his fingers inside him to the same pace. Ryo peeks through his fingers, mortified that Akira’s eyes are staring back at him, watching him writhe and moan.

 

He sucks back down into his thighs, leaving bright red marks in his wake and the press of blunt human teeth into the meat of his thigh gives way to pointed fangs. Ryo cries out, and when Akira pulls away he’s licking the blood from his mouth, all too pleased with himself. He dives back down, mouth open and tongue hanging out to lick at the base of his cock, suck on his balls, laps down to his cunt again and tries to wiggle his tongue in next to his fingers. It’s obscene- filthy, disgusting— Ryo shouldn’t be enjoying himself, it shouldn’t feel good, he shouldn’t like having Akira down there doing this to him. He can’t help it, not when the fingers inside him start to speed up, and his mouth closes around his clit and sucks and wrings out pleasure from him.

 

Amon’s mouth leaves his pulsing cunt and he can feel the demon masquerading as Akira move up until he’s straddling Ryo, pale thighs spread wide on either side of his torso and his hard dick rests next to Ryo’s own neglected erection.

 

“ Ryo…” He sounds like Akira, “Can’t I see your face? Please? ” It’s whispered between them, the hot breath of his partner ghosts across the back of his hands and Ryo can’t deny a request like that. He feels off-kilter, thrown way out of his depth all of a sudden and he pulls his hands off his face slowly. Akira’s face is so close, closer than he’s ever been before. His mouth and chin are all wet with drool and slick, “You don’t belong to humankind-“ He tilts Ryo’s chin up, leaning in closer and closer—

 

Ryo wakes up in bed with a sudden jolt, and he feels sticky and covered in sweat. He presses his wet thighs together, and rubs his face into his pillow, groaning in frustration. What the fuck was wrong with him?

Notes:

i almost forgot i made a playlist for this fic here: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3134OqSUNATUjFHItB6bqE?si=UVKXlKuMQ02wuOFPS-Pz5Q&pi=Go9chOWRSGWRm

and also a playlist for the planned prequel i’ve started writing bc i have found no fics about satan and amon after he first falls (it’ll tie into the amon flashbacks from this fic): https://open.spotify.com/playlist/21yfSAtVl1Xmw2nDyDOzCD?si=x9KdCEw1RXCCXakQ3ZQ0wg&pi=EVWWinVnTeKRj

Chapter 12: Stoking the Flames

Summary:

Akira makes sure Miki doesn’t remember anything from last night. Things are afoot in the demon legions. And Ryo checks up on his new surveillance.

Notes:

slight tw for drug use in the final part of the chapter

on a serious note if you are abusing drugs or alcohol please know there are people who care for you <3 ty all for the kind comments and support on this fic I don’t say that enough

 

Akira dreams of expanses of pale skin, tinted pink and warm and soft under his hands. There’s a blanket of starlight and the tree canopy overhead, obscuring the moonlight and reflecting it off Ryo’s face- He looks so gorgeous, delicate and perfect. Akira can’t help but to lean down and hold his thighs open wide, licking and mouthing at them. The pounding of his heart between his ears is almost too loud, he can hardly hear the little broken moans Ryo lets out as his mouth settles between his thighs properly. He’s sure he could get off like this, with his tongue shoved inside Ryo and humping the ground like a dog.

 

Everything about the dream is hazy and clouded, like he’s watching himself do these things to Ryo with no real input of his own. It was only a dream… he was only dreaming, so he might as well enjoy himself— He scrapes his teeth along the flesh of his inner thigh, and when he bites down the cry Ryo lets out is obscene. He wonders if Ryo would really sound like that, all high pitched and desperate.

 

The dream ends abruptly as he tries to kiss Ryo on the mouth, and Akira opens his eyes to his bedroom ceiling with mild dissatisfaction. He’s hard, but these days he was always waking up like this. It wasn’t uncommon for him to dream of Ryo, or some mystery blonde that took his place- and it was only natural to pine after Ryo, he was so handsome and intelligent and naturally good at everything he did…

 

The reality of what happened last night is not lost on Akira. Ryo had tried to kill Miki. He had tried to kill her and didn’t even seem bothered in the slightest. Like squishing a bug under his boot. It makes his skin crawl and irritation rise and he has to bury his face in his hands and sigh to try and steady himself. He presses the heels of his palm into his eyes and rubs the sleep from his face, mainly trying to stop his stinging eyes from actually forming tears.

 

The horrible, pitiful, part is that Akira can’t even manage to hate Ryo. He didn’t actually do anything to hurt Miki, and even helped to get her home safe— Why did Ryo have to be so difficult? Stupid fucking Ryo and his stupid perfect face—

 

With his mind made up Akira spits into his palm and shimmies out of his underwear enough to get a hold of his leaking erection. And the usual burn of shame is replaced with a possessive need to grab Ryo and— and-

 

The precome and spit combine and his fist glides easily down his length, and he gives himself a few slow strokes as he closes his eyes and tips his head back against his pillow sighing. He pictures Ryo like he was in his dream, laid back in the deep lush grass under the night sky, all shy as he covers his pretty face and Akira licks into him. He can’t remember the taste from his dream, but his free hand finds his face and he licks at his fingers, sucking them into his mouth and pressing down on his tongue hard. His own skin is salty, and he imagines Ryo would taste sweeter, like the most delicious thing he’s ever had on his tongue.

 

Akira groans around his fingers, hooking them and forcing his mouth open like he imagines Ryo would. He thinks about Ryo looming over him now, smirking down at him in that way that makes Akira feel inferior to even be in his presence. His tongue hangs out of his mouth and in his fantasy Ryo spits into his mouth- Akira wishes he would.

 

It’s not much longer and Akira comes undone, biting onto his own fingers and grunting and growling as he humps up into his tight wet fist. He strokes himself through his orgasm and slides his fingers out of his mouth, a line of saliva following as he pants open mouthed. It’s easy to clean up with tissues and slip his underwear back on. Only when he finally gets out of bed does he remember the microphone on his shelf. It definitely couldn’t pick up his quiet grunts and the slick sound of his hand along his dick… right?

 

The devilman decidedly ignores that thought and grabs a change of clothes for school and scurries out of the room, heading for the shower to get ready for the day. He just takes a quick wash to get the sweat from sleep off his body and finishes getting ready by dressing and then brushing his hair and then his teeth.

 

Akira bounds down the stairs, the smell of breakfast permeates through the house and its making his stomach growl impatiently. He sits next to Miki at the table, and breakfast goes on without so much as a peep about what happened last night. Maybe she really did think it was a dream?

 

After they’re done they all get their things together and say their goodbyes and head out the door. First they have to walk Taro to his elementary, but it isn’t far and once that’s done Miki and Akira head off towards their school only a block or so away.

 

“So—“ Miki begins, swinging her school bag back and forth as she looks towards Akira, “You and Ryo made up, yeah?”

 

He hadn’t been expecting that, but he just nods. “Yeah, I think so.”

 

“Hmm… Well I would hope so, you were gone all day.” Miki is only teasing him, and Akira can feel a bit of warmth start up his neck.

 

“So?”

 

“Must’ve been a lot of.. making up, huh?” She smirks at him and nudges him in the side, laughing at the shocked expression he can feel himself making. “I mean- seriously Akira?”

 

Now the hot flush has risen up to his cheeks and all the way to the tips of his ears, “That’s not— we—“ Akira struggles to form a complete sentence, all while Miki giggles at his red face, “Ugh- shut up.” He looks away from her goofy grin and even starts to walk a little faster to definitely not sulk, but she’s quick to jog and catch up.

 

“What time did you get home anyways? I don’t remember you coming in last night.”

 

“Oh uh… before mom and dad got home. You were asleep.” Akira watches her face now, thankful for her earlier teasing because now if he was awkward in his lie it could be explained away easily.

 

“Huh…” Miki furrows her brows subtly, and adjusts her school bag to hold it with both hands around the handle tight. “I don’t remember going to bed last night. I could’ve sworn I…” She trails off, seemingly lost in thought. “I remember getting in the bath and then I- I thought I drowned.”

 

“If you drowned… how are you alive?” He asks and Miki punches him in the shoulder, all Akira can do is snort and rub his sore shoulder, “You must’ve been having a bad dream, Miki.”

 

“You’re sure I wasn’t in the bathroom when you got home? I feel like… you were there.”

 

“Yeah, you were snoring— Hey!” Akira laughs when Miki swats at him again, but that seems to satisfy her questioning and they drop the topic altogether.

___

 

“So you’re telling me, not only did you let Ghelmer get killed, you let Akira Fudo get away, and then came back empty handed… Am I getting all this correct?” Sirene sneers from her seat on the edge of Kaim’s desk, legs and arms crossed and her full lips turned down into a deep frown. Kaim sits at his desk chair, a disinterested frown on his features as he listens.

 

Agwel swallows thickly, adjusting the collar on his shirt, “Not completely empty handed!” He taps a few things on his tablet, hands shaking and then turns the screen to present it to Sirene. “There is another Fudo associates with- a human who knows far too much.”

 

On the screen Sirene watches the grainy surveillance footage, the rain from last night making the image hard to make out but she can see the blur of blonde hair and white billowing coat running down the slick grass in the park towards Akira and that girl. Agwel pauses the recording and manipulates the technology to zoom in until he has this man’s face perfectly in focus.

 

“Doctor Ryo Asuka. He’s been studying demons, and unlike that girl he lives alone.”

 

Sirene looks at this human man and cannot help but feel he looks uncannily familiar… like their lord. No wonder Amon had taken a liking to this pitiful sack of human filth. She’s unable to control the jealous pang that hits her, even after all these millennia she can’t help it.

 

“He’s awfully pretty,” Kaim comments behind her and Sirene turns her head to shoot him a disgusted look. The other demon only smiles at her toothily and shrugs, “For a human.”

 

___

 

Ryo, after having his odd dream, decides the best course of action is to take the coldest shower of his life. He stands under the spray and stares into the white tiled wall, counting rows of pristine tiles until his brain stops trying to conjure up images of Akira Fudo naked and on top of him. When he’s out of the shower and getting dressed he pauses at the box of ilicit substances he keeps in his t-shirt drawer. All morning all he can think about is his dream, about sure clawed hands pushing his thighs apart and Akira diving down between them.

 

The blonde closes his eyes and takes a deep breath in through his nose and out through his mouth, trying to will the intrusive thoughts away but it’s no use. If he got high he wouldn’t be able to think, and therefore he wouldn’t think about Akira. Or Amon. Logically it is the easiest solution. Without any further debate in his mind Ryo shoves the neat stack of shirts aside to open the box. At one point it had been his mother’s jewelry box, now it had served faithfully over time to hide his habits from his father. Jenny knew, he didn’t really need to hide it from her, but it was a habit- and he didn’t need Akira stumbling on this either.

 

Inside is like a pharmacy- or perhaps the trunk of a drug smuggler. He has various pill bottles, and a few are actually his own prescription. Notably the xanax and the valium, which are both great ideas in Ryo’s mind. There are several other substances as well; ecstasy, cocaine, marijuana, ketamine, LSD… It would be unwise to do anything that impaired him for too long. He was supposed to pick Akira up after school.

 

He hums and clicks his tongue and pulls the xanax bottle out, throwing back a pill without any water and then he puts the container back. Before leaving he snags a joint out of his drawer as well. It was only eight in the morning after all, he had plenty of time until Akira was done.

 

Ryo pads through his apartment, hair still damp and dripping water down his neck and soaking the back of his shirt and making it stick to his skin uncomfortably. He only threw on a big baggy t-shirt and some boxers, he wasn’t going anywhere for hours after all. He balances the end of the joint in his mouth and lights it while making his way down the stairs. Jenny is there, she’s making breakfast for him, and at the kitchen counter she’s also gotten his laptop, the newspaper, and a cup of coffee. She spares one glance at him, blowing out smoke into the surrounding area, and then continues on with cooking after he sits down.

 

The newspaper has nothing of interest, no grisly murders reported, only one missing persons which was in yesterday’s paper too- so nothing new. Disappointing to say the least. In his mind it was better to check a fresher scene, or course maybe something would come up before night fall.

 

Ryo sets aside the paper, folding it up neatly again, and then pauses to ash his joint on the stark white marble countertop. He opens his laptop and his fingers pause as he hovers over the file containing all the recordings from Akira’s house. He had wanted to forget about Akira Fudo for at least an hour- But there’s an anxious pit growing in him from not knowing whether or not Miki is going to ruin all his carefully laid plans. He glances at Jenny’s back, then back to the laptop screen and decides it’s probably fine if he listens to it out loud.

 

And sure enough Jenny doesn’t even react as Ryo scrubs through the audio files, and mostly it’s just the sounds of a house at night. Shifting blankets, snoring, at some point the cat gets up and lays down near one of the mics because there’s about thirty minutes of just purring.

 

Jenny slides a plate of definitely way too much food next to him and Ryo doesn’t even look up as he thanks her. He probably wouldn’t even eat half. And Jenny knows that, but she always, always, gave him way too much. Her way of caring without saying anything he supposes.

 

The joint is finished by the time Ryo is done eavesdropping on the Makimuras’ mundane family breakfast conversations. In that whole time Miki says nothing about last night, and neither does Akira. And there’s no trace of them speaking privately before leaving at all… After last night Ryo doesn’t completely trust Akira, and okay, maybe he never truly did all the way. Akira had a big blabber mouth and a bigger bleeding heart, he was a liability in every sense of the word.

 

When Ryo had set Akira’s new shiny phone up he had given himself the liberty of complete access to the device. He can track the location, look through the cameras, watch the fucking phone screen if he wants, but most importantly… he can listen through the microphone. Which he pulls up on his laptop screen and skips through until he’s at Akira and Miki walking out of the house with Taro.

 

The first revelation is that Akira talks to Miki about him- or, really, Miki is the one to ask if they had made up from their fight. And what had Akira told her? Because they hadn’t mentioned his name all morning until now, when they were alone together. Which meant they were speaking about a separate incident from last night— Ryo quiets his own racing thoughts and listens as Miki starts to make rather bold assumptions. Ones that Akira tries to deny very poorly.

 

Miki Makimura thinks they’re fucking.

 

Ryo looks around his apartment and Jenny has slinked away, much to his own relief. She didn’t need to hear this. Or see the heat rising up his neck and to the tips of his ears.

 

It’s not really a huge leap to make an assumption like that, now that Ryo pauses the audio and looks at it from her perspective. He shows up after just being Akira’s old online friend from America and suddenly he’s spending all his free time with him and spending the night, and skipping school to come see him. And okay maybe buying Akira a phone makes it look even worse, and all the new clothes he had to get because he kept getting blood all over them… In Ryo’s mind there is a perfectly good explanation for all these things, but obviously in Miki’s mind it is much different.

 

Thank fuck she thinks that of all things, and not that they’re out hunting demons every night. It honestly sets Ryo at ease a fraction. And then he listens to the rest of their conversation… It’s slightly worrying that Miki recalls drowning in the tub. And no matter how hard Ryo tries to be reasonable and listen to Akira he can’t shake the feeling that she knows more than she’s letting on. After all, neither him or Akira have any clue what happened before Akira got home…

 

Ryo decides one thing for certain. He does not trust Miki Makimura, and he cannot trust Akira concerning her at all.

Notes:

ryo is our beautiful princess with several disorders and control issues and you gotta love him for it

Chapter 13: Umbra

Summary:

Akira has an interesting day at school. Ryo’s relaxing is interrupted.

Notes:

chap is named after the song Umbra by Ghost ;3

 

Akira goes through the motions of school. He attends class. He keeps his eyes and thoughts to himself. He ignores the itch under his skin, the way his whole body lights up when anyone gets remotely too close. By his third class he decides to make use of his new phone and shoves himself into the corner of an unused classroom to shove a hand down his pants and watch porn. It’s unsatisfying and makes him feel disgusting all day afterwards- like he desperately needs a shower.

 

By his very last class of the day he’s wishing he pretended he was sick and stayed home. They’re learning about anatomy in his science class and the nude diagrams in his textbook do not help. His teacher is naming off the muscles of the back, pointing them out on the projector—- and Akira can’t hear a single word. His ears ring with the sound of flowing blood, the mismatched heartbeats of his classmates like drums pounding in his ears. His eyes unfocus and Akira has to blink rapidly to regain his vision. The room is too hot, his skin feels flushed in an unpleasant sticky way, like a fever running through his body.

 

What jolts him from his stupor is his tongue sliding against his teeth and they’re way too sharp. The coppery tang of his own blood fills his mouth and Akira quickly excuses himself while the room is dark from the projector and everyone is occupied. He holds his books low to hide the problem and keeps his eyes downcast in case they’ve started to change as well. The hallway is much brighter and his eyes adjust unnaturally fast, he zeroes in on the bathroom down the hallway and does a brisk walk there.

 

Akira drops his books on the tiled floor without a care and grabs onto one of the sinks hanging off the wall, clutching to the cold material to keep himself upright. He makes eye contact with his own reflection, and he looks fucked. His eyes are glazed and now getting glassier from his frustrated tears, his skin is a ruddy hue, and his mouth hangs open and he’s drooling. Shitshitshit—

 

The sudden sound of a toilet being flushed and the squeak of sneakers makes Akira actually jump. He wipes the drool from his chin and dives to pick his books up again, and just as he’s standing back up the only closed bathroom stall opens.

 

“Oh, what’s up, Fudo?” It’s only one of his track teammates, who smiles at him easy and goes to one of the sinks to wash his hands. Akira swallows and watches the other man roll his sleeves up over his defined forearms, lather soap between his fingers in such a slow methodical way it seems lewd— “Dude, are you okay?”

 

The devilman feels a wash of shame burn over him and he nods quickly, “Yup! Never better!” He nearly trips in his haste to leave the bathroom, leaving his teammate standing there looking confused.

 

Out in the hallway Akira continues to walk, past his classroom and to his locker where he shoves all his books and changes back into his outdoor shoes. It’s a quick walk out the back doors of the building. He absolutely cannot go back to class like this. He cannot attend track practice like this either. He’s should call Ryo— God he was pathetic. Couldn’t he take care of himself for more than a few hours without Ryo?

 

All Ryo would suggest is trading in flesh with some prostitute like it was something so simple, clinical, like a visit to the doctor. The idea is nauseating. Akira had previously pictured sex as something done between people in a relationship, to show their love to one another. With access to porn his view had changed but only a fraction. He still desired to be close to someone emotionally as well as physically. It seems silly to him now, especially with the kind of sexual encounters he desires now; charged and intense, he wants to rip someone apart and be ripped apart in return.

 

Invasively, his mind pictures Ryo, eyes crazed and wild grin as he stabs his broken beer bottle into body after body. The cold indifference on his face as he points the gun to Miki’s head. An electric sensation starts at his fingers and travels up to the base of his skull, causing him to shiver from head to toe. Ryo’s drive for violence was almost as bad as his own, and this realization brings on an immediate migraine so intense Akira clutches at his forehead and grits his teeth.

 

The approach of Amon in his subconscious is like an ache in his bones that foretells the coming of a storm. He tastes burnt sugar and the irony tang of blood on his tongue, he smells the acrid scent of sulfur burning, and closes his eyes tight as if he can simply will the sensations away.

 

You must see. His booming voice coils around the shell of his ear, so tangible and real Akira swears he can feel the hot humid breath on the back of his own neck. See what exactly?

 

Behind his closed eyelids, in the expanse of his minds eye, Amon shows him.

 

He looks through his own eyes, and as he tears into the demon before him he notices Ryo, recording as he always does but now he notices it— the corners of his mouth upturned in morbid glee, his eyes wide and unblinking as he watches Akira rip into bone and sinew. He had never noticed before, but now every instance of Ryo watching him with his barely contained elation at Akira’s savagery flashes before his eyes.

 

He’s shown a memory that is not his own. The angel from his dreams is there, sitting on the ground with their knees drawn up to their chest. Their eyes are so intense, they nearly threaten to burn a hole straight through him. Those familiar pale blue irises, so light and icy… In fact all of the angel seems so uncannily familiar to him… Then the angel begins to lift their head and Akira knows that face. He knows that sadistic grin, the curve of his small nose, the shape of his jawline, the very curve of his blonde eyelashes… Ryo.

 

As suddenly as it all began it stops. Pain blooms in his head, like a hot knife slicing through butter. He clutches his forehead and groans, the pain so intense he has to push down the bile rising in his throat. He doesn’t know what to make of any of it, he doesn’t even know if he should be trusting Amon- if he should be trusting Ryo.

 

Ryo. Even thinking about him made Akira’s blood boil. Anger or lust or some sick combination of both, he isn’t sure. He isn’t sure what he wants to do when he gets his hands around Ryo’s slender neck… He needs an outlet for this overwhelming feeling now.

 

Akira opens his eyes and takes one single step forward, and it’s like he’s in free fall. The corners of his vision narrows and fades into darkness—- Amon begins to walk for him.

___

 

The banging on the front door is so hard that Ryo can see the solid piece of wood shake on its hinges. If the deadbolt wasn’t locked it surely would’ve been knocked down. He noiselessly places his laptop to the side and begins to stand and tiptoe towards the front door of his apartment. He’s still in his big comfortable t-shirt and underwear and if whoever is outside his door was knocking calmly he would probably take the time to put pants on. He toes up to the front door carefully as it shakes on its hinges again and looks through the peephole.

 

The sight that greets him is Akira leaning into the door, face obscured by his damp hair, dripping with sickly yellowed blood.

 

“Fuck-“ Ryo unlocks and opens the door and grunts as Akira slumps into his arms, the weight of him unexpected, but Ryo manages to stay upright. “Akira?” Instantly the blood starts to soak into Ryo’s clothing, saturating them both in demon blood.

 

He scans his eyes over Akira quickly, looking for injury or any open wound, and he finds none. With the way Akira leans into him, face crumpled into his shoulder and neck as he gasps for air, it’s difficult to stay upright. He stumbles backwards and his back hits the wall, Akira’s arms come up around his sides and his nails audibly scrape down the wall. His blood slick lips drag across his jugular and Ryo feels his throat bob as he swallows. A deep guttural noise comes from Akira, strained and animalistic.

 

Ryo is suddenly so very aware of his state of undress and it makes him flush all the way to the tips of his ears.

 

“Akira?” He whispers his name and the larger man shivers from head to toe.

 

“Ryo…” His lips vibrate against his skin, and Ryo has to close his own eyes and suck in a breath. Warm and wet, one of Akira’s hands coated in blood ghosts across the outside of his thigh right below the hem of his baggy shirt.

 

Ryo lets go of Akira’s sides so he can grab his wrist and stop his hand from traveling any further. “What are you doing?”

 

Akira open mouthed pants against his skin, sharp teeth scraping along his neck and Ryo doesn’t really hate it. Even though his breath is way too warm and he’s smearing blood all over his neck and collarbone and thigh… Ryo likes it. He needs to get control of himself before he just sits here and lets Akira do whatever it is he’s intending.

 

“Are you scared?” The taller man’s voice is so much deeper and gruff than usual, the words vibrate against his throat.

 

“No.”

 

Ryo feels the way his lips curl up against his skin, “No, I didn’t think so…”

 

“What are you doing?” He asks again when the hand on his leg becomes more of a caress. Ryo digs his nails into Akira’s wrist, “Stop that.” To his surprise the devilman actually freezes and seems to listen.

 

He shoves on his chest a bit more and Akira does move back an inch, enough to look at Ryo face to face. His eyes are glazed over in that way Ryo has begun to recognize, and the unfocused gaze drags down his body and then back up again. Slowly, deliberately. And when Akira meets his eyes again his tongue flicks out over his lips, wetting them subconsciously and Ryo feels hot all over.

 

All he has on is a half-soaked baggy white t-shirt and his boxers. No binder on his chest either. The fabric of his wet shirt clings to Ryo’s skin uncomfortably, particularly on his front and it really isn’t leaving a lot to the imagination. He grabs the collar of his shirt and pulls it out a little so at least his entire chest isn’t out on display. Akira is breathing so heavily and labored and it sounds so similar to his dream— Now is not the time Ryo. He really did not need to think about that right now.

 

The blonde can feel the burn of embarrassment on his face, and Ryo will be damned if he’s going to be embarrassed in his own home. He narrows his eyes, and musters up all the haughtiness he can to demand, “Are you going to explain yourself?” When all Akira does is continue to stare at him he huffs and yanks his hand away from his thigh, and pushes on him until he takes a full step backwards.

 

And Akira… just keeps watching him. It’s unsettling, but Ryo is able to squeeze past Akira and get the front door closed. His breathing gets faster, to an alarming degree and the color drains from his companion’s tan skin.

 

“Are you okay?”

 

He shakes his head hard, like he’s trying to dislodge a thought from his brain, it flings blood out of his dark hair, covering the wall and some more of Ryo. “N-No— I-“ Akira lifts his head and looks at Ryo, pure distress coating his features, brows knitted together. Then he blinks and that golden haze is back, “‘m fine.”

 

Ryo raises an eyebrow but doesn’t question it, instead he maneuvers to squeeze past Akira again, now trapped between him and the door. Akira doesn’t move, the hulking idiot, even when Ryo grumbles and pushes on his shoulder. He manages, finally sighing once he’s free while Akira just watches silently again.

 

“Come on,” He calls for Akira to follow him, and is satisfied when he hears the shuffling footsteps behind him as Ryo leads further into the apartment.

 

Ryo leads the way up the stairs, into and through his bedroom and right into the bathroom. And that’s when Ryo starts to feel an unease settle in his stomach, like a knot wound too tightly it may snap. Akira is so close behind him he can feel the labored breath on his neck, and it’s not entirely unpleasant. The blonde ignores his searing gaze to instead turn the shower on. His hands are coated in yellow ichor, so he holds them under the spray to clean them and test the temperature, shaking them dry once he’s satisfied. All the while he can feel Akira staring at him, a distinct tingle in the back of his neck

 

Carefully, Ryo turns his head to glance over his shoulder at Akira. He needs to get out of this bathroom now before he does something stupid.

 

“I need to go see what kind of mess you’ve made.” Ryo informs, wiping his still damp hands off on a towel. “Get cleaned up and don’t go anywhere. Don’t even answer the phone unless it’s me, got it?”

 

And Akira doesn’t even blink as he moves across the bathroom, watching him like a predator stalking its prey. It should be unsettling, but all it does to Ryo is make him feel even hotter under the collar. They stare at each other for another beat, “Akira, are you even listening to me?”

 

“I got you all bloody.” Is the gruff response he gets from Akira, who sounds a bit confused and spaced out.

 

“It’s fine. I’m going to change my clothes and go-“

 

“You could get in with me.”

 

“What?” Ryo isn’t quite sure he’s heard him correctly. In fact he thinks maybe Akira is joking, but he’s looking at Ryo in such an intense way it twists at Ryo’s insides, burns straight through him to his core and ignites something in Ryo he does not want to dwell on. “Just— Get cleaned up.” He grumbles and makes his hasty exit from the bathroom before Akira can say anything else absurd. Only when Ryo has the door firmly shut behind him does he breathe again.

 

He doesn’t bother to put out clothes for Akira. His hands shake as he pulls the hem of his own shirt up and over his head and then he uses the already soiled material to wipe the rest of the blood from his skin. Ryo dresses himself quickly, so very aware of the fact that Akira is getting naked a few feet away and all that separates them is a flimsy piece of wood. The image of Akira slumped in the shower, slathering his well defined muscles with soap slick hands, is so immediate and intrusive in Ryo’s mind he nearly chokes on his own spit.

 

Ryo alarms even himself with the speed he finishes dressing and within under a minute he’s got his shoes and coat and is already out the door. He stops at the front desk and reassures the frazzled looking woman at the desk who had encountered Akira on his way up, and slides a couple bills from his wallet her way to keep her especially quiet. He takes his car and follows the gps tracker on Akira’s phone to his last location— an abandoned car park that Ryo had already marked on his map.

 

It’s simple work to find the group of demon carcasses in one of the sub levels. And it’s even simpler to get the canister of gasoline from his trunk and douse them all in it and light a few matches before driving away.

 

Returning to his apartment, he finds the blood smearing the entryway is being cleaned by Jenny. He wordlessly passes by her and doesn’t bother taking his shoes off as he stalks back upstairs. Behind his bedroom door he expects Akira to be there, dressed and fresh out of the shower. However he can still hear the water running through the slightly ajar bathroom door and Ryo’s patience has run thin. He walks into the bathroom and can see the vague shape of Akira’s tan skin through the frosted glass, sitting on the floor of the shower.

 

“Akira,” He receives no answer, not even a grunt, and it causes irritation to bubble to the surface. Ryo doesn’t try to hide his expression like he usually does and walks closer so he can pull the glass door open. Akira is sitting with his knees drawn up tight to his chest and his face buried in his hands. He’s made no real attempt at cleaning himself up either, he’s still covered in that sickly yellow demon blood in the places the water hasn’t reached.

 

“Akira.” Ryo repeats firmly, as if calling a dog to heel and Akira drags his hands down his face and peeks up at Ryo between his fingers. As much as Ryo wants to scream at Akira for not being able to control himself, he knows it truly isn’t Akira’s fault. If anyone is to blame it’s Ryo himself. He made Akira like this. Instead of yelling, Ryo wills his own anger to calm, “What happened today?”

 

Akira stares up at him, a far off look in his eyes. And then he buries his tear streaked face back into his hands, shoulders trembling as he begins to sob and curl inwards on himself. He mutters something Ryo can’t decipher into his hands.

 

“What?”

 

His voice comes out muffled, raw and strained from crying, “I— I wanted to… I wanted to rip into something… I w-wanted to kill— Or else I’d…” He trails off and fists his hands in his damp black hair until his knuckles start to turn white.

 

“You’d what?”

 

Akira’s shoulders heave again and Ryo can hear him sobbing into his hands. Ryo can’t bear it, he hates seeing Akira like this. But he needs to get him out of the shower at the very least, trying to speak over the spray of water is getting annoying.

 

Ryo grabs the shower head and pulls the sprayer off its magnetic hold so he can effectively spray Akira down. He doesn’t bother with soap, if Akira wanted this done right he should’ve done it himself.

 

“This can’t keep happening like this, Akira.” Whether Akira wants to or not, he’s going to find another outlet for his issues tonight.

Chapter 14: Sympathy is a Knife

Summary:

Ryo suggests some solutions to Akira’s problem. They decide to attend another Sabbath.

Notes:

chapter title is a Charli xcx song I thought was fitting 😘

It’s amazing the patience Ryo exudes as he wraps Akira’s body in a towel and helps him stand. At least that’s what Amon reckons, watching behind his eyes as the human is near hyperventilating and Ryo speaks to him calmly, kindly. It’s… familiar and comforting, especially when Ryo has his hands on his bare skin, wrapped around his torso to secure the towel around his waist, fingers skittering across his skin. Everywhere he touches is alight with the tingle of electricity, but Akira is exhausted physically, emotionally… Ryo guides him by the shoulder to push him to sit on the closed toilet and then his soft hands are gone all too quickly. 

“Stay, I’m going to get you some clothes.” Ryo instructs, his face flushed with a light pink. He’s weak to his commands, so he stays put with his hands in his toweled lap. Ryo eyes him suspiciously but leaves the humid bathroom to go fetch some clothes, he leaves the door open and some cool air flows in, cooling his fever ridden skin. 

Amon does not know what to do with all these dreadful feelings Akira has. They’re suffocating in their persistence to be acknowledged, this overwhelming inner turmoil over his instincts. Their instincts, their very nature, their desire to sink their teeth into flesh and desecrate. He’s been trying to cooperate with Akira, but he’s frankly had enough of his dancing around his own physical desires. And if that meant he had to give the poor kid a panic attack because he’s so frightened Amon may actually lay his hands on Ryo then so be it. Not that he intended to hurt Ryo… Amon’s not even sure he can hurt him in a meaningful way. He’s fought and clawed and spat and tried to fight for so long that it’s useless. It always ends up the same way when they fight… he loses. 

All the demon wants is for Akira Fudo to stop being so stubborn, he’s the one who keeps stopping them every time they get anywhere. A regular human is unfit for their unbridled desires, Ryo is the only one who would be a match. Well… other than Sirene. And she was far more troublesome to deal with, she was egotistical and crazed and far too demanding. She expected too much, too involved in the politics of waging a war— Too hateful to humanity to be reasoned with… He much preferred the simplistic way Satan always regarded him; a weapon to be pointed in the direction of his enemies. 

Speak of the devil— Ryo has returned with a stack of fresh clothes, which he places on the edge of the sink. His eyes are fixated on Akira, some unreadable mystery behind his irises. 

“Do you need help with this too?” He asks in a whisper, like a secret between them. Pretty blonde eyelashes blinking at him over his carved rosy cheekbones owlishly. 

The demon cannot will Akira’s body to obey. He cannot even manage to move his mouth to form a legible answer from the state Akira is in. Trapped like a rat in a never ending maze— “Akira,” The commanding tone snaps the human back to himself, “Do you want help?” 

Akira’s head spins from the offer, help with what exactly? He presses his thighs together in an attempt to conceal his stirring erection. “What?” He croaks out. 

“Do you need help getting dressed?” 

And the idea of Ryo’s silky soft hands back on him is so very appealing. But, needing help getting dressed is so juvenile, so weak- The demon recoils within him at the thought, of relinquishing such control into Ryo’s more than capable hands. Akira closes his eyes and breathes in and out slowly to calm himself. It does little to actually help.

There’s the feeling of a soft cotton shirt being pulled over his head and when he opens his eyes it’s over his face, so he helps to put his arms through and pull it down all the way over his head. Ryo stands in front of him and his cool hands hold the hem of the t-shirt, skirting along his boiling skin— He grabs both Ryo’s hands, gritting his teeth and with great effort he’s able to pry his hands away an inch, leaving the shirt ridden up on his abdomen. 

“I- You should go.” He drops his hands like they’re scalding, unable to meet Ryo’s face he stares at the tiled floor, feeling only shame. 

“You sure?” 

No. He isn’t. Not of anything. He’s only sure that he’s hiding his erection between his thighs fairly effectively. And that Ryo’s hands were mere inches away and they could be even closer. They could be helping him into his underwear and pants. Or they could just forget about getting dressed—- Akira closes his eyes tight and breathes manually, placing his own hands back in his lap to fist into the towel. He’s frightened of what answer he’ll give if he opens his mouth, so he bites his tongue and the sharp pain grounds him. 

Tentative cool fingers glide across his temple, palms resting on his cheeks. The touch of Ryo is mollifying, calm, and it urges Akira to open his eyes slowly. Ryo is so gorgeous in the fuzzy glow of the all white bathroom, light shining off his golden hair like a halo. He wants to close the distance, every nerve ending aching to be touched and soothed by this otherworldly man. 

More than anything he’s scared. Terrified of what he’ll do if he— if Ryo—- 

“Take a deep breath,” Ryo instructs, so he does, breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth a few times until he doesn’t feel like he’s in free fall. “Would you like help with the rest of your clothes?” 

The brief calm that blessed Akira is shattered with the way Ryo words his question. It sounds filthy, like something he’d ask while taking off his clothes rather than putting them on. Maybe he’s dreaming again? Whatever the case he squeezes his legs together a bit harder. 

“I don’t— It’s—- I don’t trust myself with you in here.” 

Ryo tilts his head subtly, studying him so closely it’s making Akira sweat. “Hm, I’ll be right outside.” 

Only when he hears the bathroom door click shut does he let out a bone deep sigh, relieved to be alone. Well, not entirely alone. Amon’s annoyance pounds through his veins like a virus, scalding his insides with an intense mounting need. A burn that only Ryo’s cold hands can soothe… would anyone else even be able to sate this bone deep need? He’s unsure.

With shaking hands he finishes getting dressed, and even takes the time to brush his teeth to get the taste of blood out of his gums. It doesn’t help with his arousal, and the idea of touching himself is so unappealing that he just tucks his erection in the waistband of his underwear and calls that good enough. He’ll fucking will it away if he has to, because there’s no way in hell that Ryo would let him… let him do what exactly? Ugh— 

Outside the bathroom Ryo is leaned against the wall waiting, arms crossed and he points to his bed, “Go sit before you fall over,” And he’s exhausted so he listens, trudging to the bed and sitting on the edge. “First of all, do you want something to help you relax? You look like you’re about to have another anxiety attack.” 

“Like what?” Like anything will help. 

He shrugs, “I have xanax, or we could just smoke some weed.” 

Ryo always smelled of the skunky smoke, and it seemed to reign in his rather erratic moods. Taking prescription medicine that was not his own seemed… a step too far for Akira. “I don’t want to take any pills.” 

The younger man watches as Ryo procures a few things from his dresser drawers, and then he’s back and sits crisscrossed on the bed, mirroring Akira’s own position. On the plush comforter he puts down a tray, a ziplock bag of weed, and the scorched silver flip lighter Ryo always has shoved in his pocket. Akira’s eyes follow his precise movements as he rolls the joint. His tongue darts out and licks the edge of the paper, then he finishes rolling the joint and looks it over before he places it between his lips like a cigarette. 

The flick of a lighter is heard, the crackle of burning paper, the overwhelming scent of weed in the air. The smoke tickles Akira’s nose and makes him want to sneeze. “Here,” The joint is held out to Akira and Ryo blows out smoke into his bedroom as he speaks, “Your turn.” 

Akira pushes all his nervousness aside and pinches the joint between his thumb and forefinger, lifts it up to his mouth and sucks in a puff much too quickly. He sputters and coughs and his throat and lungs burn. The joint is taken from Akira and Ryo hits it again and holds it back out to him.

“Don’t do it so fast.” The devilman can already feel his body melt in his spot, and when he hits the joint again he listens to Ryo and takes a slow breath in and out. “There you go, that’s better.” And oh- That soft encouraging praise does something for Akira, his whole body feels alight with flames.

Handing the spliff back is awkward for Akira, he fumbles with it, trying not to burn Ryo’s fingertips off. The blonde just brushes his fingers up against his and takes the joint with ease. “So,” Ryo begins, ashing the joint on the rolling tray, “I have a pretty good idea what you’re scared of doing—“ Akira cringes at that, unprepared to hear it straight from Ryo’s own mouth. “But, I want you to explain it to me.” Oh dear lord help him. His chest feels tight, too tight, and when did the room get so hot? 

“I— It’s-“ Akira rubs his sweating palms down his jeans, he looks out the huge floor to ceiling windows at the skyline in the late afternoon light. He can see Ryo in his peripheral waiting for his response, smoke billowing out of his mouth to join the haze in the room, “It’s y’know-“

“How am I supposed to help if you won’t tell me what’s wrong?” His gaze is drawn back to his friend, and when had Ryo gotten so close? His eyes are tinted pink, lashes low and he looks radiant, gorgeous, like always. 

Akira’s tongue feels dry, like cotton in his mouth, it’s difficult to pry his mouth open and will his vocal cords to function. And where to start? Everything is wrong. Ryo is supposed to be his best friend, the one he trusts most… but Ryo tried to kill Miki… But, Ryo is so gentle with him… he cares about him so much that he bathed and clothed him… And now he’s here trying to help, always helping Akira with all his problems…

“It’s the same problem from the other day, I- It’s getting worse… Nothing helps.” 

“Did smoking help?” 

Akira truly considers if it did. His body feels heavy, like a weight on his chest holding him down and making him sink back into the cushions. If he tried to make any sudden movement he’s sure that his vision would spin and he’d float away, up and out of his body. His face feels tingly, like the muscles are drawn up into a permanent smile. Underneath all that is the itch he can’t seem to scratch, this gnawing horrible need, still present as always. 

“A little,” He shrugs. 

“Well, you can’t just be high all the time anyways…” The blonde sighs and then continues, “What about a sex toy? Like a fleshlight or something?” Ryo asks casually, not an ounce of shame. 

OhsweetJesushelp- Akira can’t even breathe after hearing the words ‘sex toy’ and ‘fleshlight’ come out of Ryo’s mouth. His face goes scarlet red and he has to look clear across the room to avoid Ryo’s piercing eyes. The thought of sticking his dick in a cold lifeless thing is about as appealing as his hand, which is to say not at all. He shakes his head in answer so he doesn’t end up swallowing his own tongue.

“Well you have to pick something.” The silence stretches between them loudly. Akira isn’t sure what kind of option he would even accept.

“I know you don’t like the idea of it, but a prostitute would be the easiest and safest solution.” Ryo’s eyes are assessing him, he can feel their gaze crawling across his face, cataloguing every micro expression and dissecting him piece by piece. Akira shakes his head again. “Well, what if we go out and find someone for you to hook up with?”

The concept seems so foreign to Akira. He doesn’t even know how he’d begin to do something like that. “You know I- I don’t— I’ve never—-“ He clears his throat, “I wouldn’t know how to do that.” He admits, blush burning all the way to the tips of his ears. 

“It’s laughably easy,” What. “You can go on a dating app or we can make it easy and go to a Sabbath, or-“ The rest of Ryo’s examples fade into the background because Akira’s mind is reeling from this sudden realization that Ryo Asuka is not a virgin. Suddenly he’s hit with this pang of pressure in his chest, like all the air being forced from his lungs. His mouth is like it’s wired shut, shocked into a silent simmering rage while his mind races and his jealousy mounts. 

___

Ryo’s stomach is tied in knots by the time they get to the Sabbath. He’s been trying to quell the nausea down, and the shot he downs at the bar seems to help enough. The alcohol burns his throat all the way down, it’s good, distracting enough from reality for a moment. Next to him Akira shifts, bumping their shoulders and inadvertently bringing Ryo back to the task at hand; getting Akira laid. He scans his eyes over the crowd, not really knowing what Akira would be desiring after. Maybe he should’ve looked up his porn history or something to save him the embarrassment. 

“What kind of person do you wanna screw?” He turns his head to Akira, enjoying the way his face blushes and he averts his big brown eyes. “Now’s not the time to chicken out.” 

“I know… Ugh- Let me think-“ 

“You have to think about it?” He muses, snorting a bit and Akira glowers at him in all his delicious embarrassment. 

“Shut up.” Akira mutters, breath so close it puffs against Ryo’s hair. They have to stand so close to hear each other over the pounding music. “I dunno… I like light colored hair I guess.” His eyes flit over to Ryo for a second and then back out to the crowd. 

“That’s all? Do you care what gender?” And surprisingly to Ryo, he shakes his head. “Alright.” 

Ryo orders another drink, flashing the bartender a twenty dollar tip and it gets him a very heavy handed pour of alcohol. The splash of soda is more of an afterthought, he can’t even taste it. Next to him Akira nurses his own drink slowly, sipping occasionally. 

He begins to point potential partners to Akira. A girl with bleached hair across the bar, a handful of men with lighter hair, one with brightly dyed colors, another woman with a darker complexion and near white hair that Akira stares at longer than the others before he shakes his head, looking as awkward and uncomfortable as can be. He’s hopeless. 

“Hey! I thought I saw you!” Some big breasted girl in a too tight tank top and reddish-brown hair slips through the crowd and smiles brightly at Akira. Her hair is pulled back into a pony-tail, exposing her slender neck and collarbone, she’s pretty in the face too. Ryo instantly dislikes her. “You weren’t at practice today, I was a little worried!” 

Akira looks genuinely caught off guard, and then he’s grinning down at this infuriatingly lovely girl, “I’m fine- Not like the coach makes us do anything anyways.” She laughs and Ryo thinks about how she’d look with her throat slit, gasping and floundering as she fails to hold in the gushing blood slipping through her panicked fingers. She certainly wouldn’t be giggling then. “Ryo, this is Miko Kuroda, she’s on the track team with me.” Just wonderful. 

“Oh! This is Ryo?” Miko’s attention turns to him and he’s forced to smile charmingly at her, concealing his disdain, “He’s cute—- You’re really cute!” She must be very drunk. 

“Thanks,” Ryo mutters into his drink, occupying himself so he doesn’t have to make conversation with this girl. Luckily her attention turns back to Akira and they begin chatting about school and track and other things that Ryo tunes out. 

He watches Akira’s face and body language as he talks with her, trying to assess if Akira is attracted to her or not. The longer he thinks about it the more the uneasy pit in his core grows. Why? What is this dreadful feeling? It needs to stop. He slams back the remainder of his drink and decides he isn’t just going to sit around and sulk while Akira gets his rocks off. He requires something more distracting than alcohol. 

Ryo nudges Akira in the ribs, getting his attention for a brief moment, “I’m going to the bathroom,” He doesn’t need to be here for this, he already gave Akira a few condoms so he should be able to handle himself just fine. 

Akira looks slightly panicked, like being left alone in this place with a beautiful girl is some sort of horror. Ryo gives him a thumbs up for encouragement once he’s out of Miko’s line of sight, and then he turns and squeezes through the crowded club, farther and farther until he’s comfortable with the distance he’s put between them. In the crowd he passes by a woman with pasties and a bowl of individually plastic wrapped pills and he snags one, popping it out of the wrapping and into his mouth. On the outskirts of the Sabbath the air is cooler, not filled with the sweat and humidity of grinding bodies. Ryo finds a huge long couch to plop down on with a sigh as he leans back to get comfortable. 

All of Ryo’s sexual escapades had a similar beat to them; get so intoxicated that his reason abandons him… so he doesn’t spend the entire time overthinking. Most of the time all Ryo had to do was sit and wait and someone would come onto him, and he’d say it worked enough for him to stop trying. He preferred men, but with enough to drink he sometimes liked women. And it would certainly pass the time to swap spit with some miserable fool, either until Akira is done or until the Sabbath gets out of hand.

He reaches into his coat and pulls out his pack of cigarettes, pulling one out to balance between his lips as he feels around for his lighter. It isn’t in his coat pockets, not his pants pockets— he left it on the coffee table in his apartment after they smoked. Ryo breathes out sharply through his nose, dissatisfied with his own predicament. 

Like someone answering his silent prayers, a rather tall good looking man with flowing black hair approaches with a look he recognizes in men; impurity, lust, desire, overconfidence. “You need a light, sweetheart?” 

It’s simple to slip into his role, he’s played this game many times. He leans forward and lets this man pull out a lighter and light his cigarette, keeping charged eye contact with him and then leans back to blow out a cloud of smoke between them. Ryo looks him up and down and then smiles softly up at him, keeping his lashes down low to seem more promiscuous. Not that he has to try very hard, men are easy. 

___

It’s right on the tip of his tongue; you need to leave this place Miko. You need to get away from me. 

But, Akira cannot force it out. Seeing her at a Sabbath party is having his mind reeling. People always gossiped in the halls at school about going to these parties and taking some sort of performance enhancing drug. He wants to ask her if she’s had anything… taken anything from anybody in this Godforsaken place. He would just come off paranoid and hypocritical considering he was standing here as well—-

Now with Ryo gone she steps closer, “Miki was telling me that you and him-“ 

“She’s only joking,” Akira feels terribly honest, powerless to the whims of being drunk. 

“So he’s single?” Miko asks, and then bursts into laughter, her drink sloshing out of the edges of her cup, “Hahahah- Oh man— The face you just made!” She’s doubled over and has to grab his shoulder while she finishes her giggling. He wasn’t aware he was making any sort of expression. 

She’s so close, he can smell the sweat coming off her body and mixing with the perfume she wears. Her top is cut so much lower than anything he’s ever seen her in, and when he looks down at her he can see the way her breasts are spilling out of the top practically. Akira flicks his eyes back up to her own and she’s definitely seen him checking her out. 

“Do you want to come dance with me?” 

Every molecule in his body screams at him to say yes. He came here to hook up with someone, and maybe since he knew Miko it wouldn’t be so bad… She is pretty, he’d be blind to not have noticed. The other guys on the track team spent a lot of time ogling at her while she ran and making lurid comments about her body. It would be so easy to let go, to give in to this unquenchable lust and just— just—- “Maybe later,” His mouth opens and the deep rumble of Amon comes out. He can feel the way his face shifts to smirk down at her, how his hand slides lecherously along her waist and then retreats as he steps away. Miko smiles back up at him, nodding in agreement. Akira has this horrible pit in his stomach that he might not ever see her again. 

You think that high school girl is suitable? She would be ripped to shreds. You would kill her, is that what you want? 

Deep down he knows the demon is correct. There is only one person that has been able to escape his clutches unscathed, only one whose commands they obey… Nobody else would be able to stop him if things got out of hand. No one except for Ryo Asuka. 

Akira’s whole body feels fuzzy and light, his vision slightly blurs as his legs are moved forcibly through the crowd. He has to blink a few times from the alcohol in his system, but his vision finally steadies as he looks over the many heads. There is far too much sweat and human pheromones in the air for them to smell Ryo. So they rely on sight alone to locate him. There are practically naked people grinding together- some even more than that— It’s disorienting, the bass pounding away, the shifting mass of bare flesh flowing like water, the flashing multicolored lights in the dark club. Amon seems to have their wits together and Akira is actually thankful for it, able to relax because they’re off to see Ryo. He’ll take care of everything! Just like Ryo always does! 

They do not find him in the bathroom. 

Instead they find him a few minutes later, his blonde hair shining in the strobing lights like a beacon. Ryo is sideways on the couch, practically in some guy's lap, and in the dim light he notes how suggestively low this man’s hands are on Ryo’s waist. Akira decides that they can and should bite them clean off. Rip out his tongue and feed it to him. Yes. 

Usually so perceptive, Ryo doesn’t notice their approach, too busy sucking this leech’s tongue into his mouth. Akira’s hands twitch, he can’t even form a coherent thought as he strides across the room, he hasn’t even realized he was moving until he watches as his hands fly out and grip onto the man’s shirt collar, and Ryo’s coat to pull him out of the way. He doesn’t care to stop himself as he yanks the man by the fabric and flings him to the side with an annoyed snarl. Ryo’s eyes go wide and a faint pink blush covers his cheeks until he notices Akira and his brows furrow. Annoyed. Condescending. Narcissistic. Ungrateful. Their eyes look to where they had thrown the man, intent on finishing what he had started- but it seems that was enough to scare him off, so he turns back to Ryo who just keeps scowling up at him with his spit-slick lips. 

“I don’t think that was really necessary— Ack-“ They tug him up off the couch and Ryo staggers to his feet. 

“Akira!—“ Ryo stumbles along beside him as Akira yanks him by the crook of his elbow down to a side hall leading to an exit. He isn’t sure what he’s doing, what he’s even trying to do— All he knows is Ryo shouldn’t ever be kissing anyone else. There aren’t as many people and as soon as they have enough space and are relatively alone Ryo snatches his arm out of his grasp, “What is your fucking problem?!” He can barely hear Ryo’s voice over the pounding in his ears. 

Whatever dam had been holding his tomgue bursts open, he whirls around to face Ryo, “My problem? You’re the one who dragged me here!” And his friend rolls his eyes, it makes Akira’s blood boil.

“You’re so naive.” The blonde’s face is drenched in the dancing colored lights, the shadows bouncing off his features in a way that screws with Akira’s vision. Maybe it’s the drugs he took, maybe it’s the alcohol burning in his throat— He isn’t sure, but he can see those vacant blue eyes narrow into slits, and something change in them. A glint of the light perhaps, but all Akira can sense from the other is disgust. “Where’s that girl you were with?” Ryo sneers back at him, “Had your way with her already?” 

“I didn’t— Nothing even happened!” Akira throws up his arms in exasperation, not even believing what he’s hearing because what? Why is Ryo mad when he’s the one who dragged him here in the first place and told him to find someone to fuck??? 

“Oh really? You were gone with her for awhile—“ 

“We talked.” 

“About what?” 

“Nothing—“ 

“Liar. I bet you were telling her all sorts of shit just like you do with precious little Makimura-“ Akira’s eyebrows shoot up into his hairline, and Ryo shoves on his shoulder and he doesn’t budge, “—fucking talking about me behind my back-“

“What?“ Akira can feel his knuckles go white from how tight he balls his fist, and when Ryo’s mouth twitches up into that sadistic smirk he’s unable to contain himself. He points an accusatory finger at Ryo, level with his nose, “You’re—such a fucking dickhead! Did we even say anything bad about you?” Ryo opens his mouth and Akira answers for him, “No!” 

The shorter man slaps his hand out of his face, it actually stings the back of his palm, “You said it just now, you were on a roll— come on, what else am I?” Ryo goads him, with that stupid irritating superior look on his face— “Come on!” Ryo pushes him again and this time he does it with both hands and he does it hard. 

Akira stumbles backwards a few steps and his back hits the wall, they both look at each other with wide eyes, like a deer caught in the headlights and the driver barreling towards them unable to stop. He isn’t thinking straight, and he knows he isn’t, he feels slightly woozy on his feet and the music is so loud it pounds his entire chest like its own monstrous heartbeat, and the lights are too bright, and Ryo is being such an ass…And he’s so hot.

The devilman isn’t aware of what the catalyst of his next action is; whether it’s the horrible gnawing lust he can’t quell, the jealousy and anger bubbling in his blood like magma, the demon and his infatuation with Ryo or maybe his own sick obsession— Akira lets go of his reason, why does it matter? If Ryo tells him to stop he’ll stop.

He moves much faster than his purely human companion, and with ease he’s grabbed a fistful of his shirt and swapped their positions, now with Ryo’s back to the wall, pinned by the unyielding hand twisting the fabric of his shirt. The smaller man gasps, caught off guard in his inebriated form. Words spew from their mouth, not Akira’s own but he is in full agreement, “You are an arrogant, spoiled brat.” 

There is no chance for Ryo to respond as Akira growls and clashes their mouths together aggressively. 

Notes:

amon and satan are that cringey couple at the bar pretending not to know each other so they can pick each other up lmao

Chapter 15: Sanctified

Summary:

Akira gives in to his desires.

Notes:

chapter title is from Sanctified by Nine Inch Nails 🤤 it gives such pitifully horny Akira vibes 😮‍💨🥴

this chapter is straight up smut, making out sloppy style in 4k. I had a blast writing this chapter lol enjoy

slight dubcon warning because they are both drunk and ryo is also very high

Akira expects an explosive response, maybe another shove, a punch, maybe even the huge knife Ryo has in his jacket sliding between his ribs. The violence does not come, there isn’t any resistance he feels at all.

 

Instead, Ryo’s hands slip around his sides, fingers splaying out along his back. His chin tilts and he makes this soft keening noise while teasing his tongue out along Akira’s bottom lip. Heat coils low in his stomach, spreading out through his body and making him feel even more feverish than before.

 

He shivers from head to toe, dizzy as he opens his mouth wide and tastes what he’s been craving this whole time. Cheap cigarettes, booze, something else that is undeniably Ryo, like sickly sweet honey on his tongue. He wants to swallow him down, devour him until there’s absolutely nothing left for others to covet after. Ryo is his, and he is Ryo’s, like they’ve always been.

 

He’s only ever kissed that girl at the first Sabbath, and as suddenly as it began it had ended. Akira didn’t have much time to react then, but that kiss is nothing like now. In the back of his mind he knows he’s being clumsy and virginal with his kissing, but Amon is a wealth of knowledge and nudges their actions in the correct direction. Their mouths move together, a response given to each subtle change. Akira grazes his teeth along his lips and Ryo’s hands rest firm on his back, pulling him in so they’re flush.

 

The sudden pressure of Ryo’s hip into his groin is sobering. His mind is foggy, and he attempts to clear it to remember when he had gotten hard in the first place. Distantly he’s aware of the fact that they are in public… but the hallway they’re in is so dark it doesn’t matter—- and they’re at a Sabbath. Just walking through the crowd gets anyone an eyeful of flesh and fucking, this is tame by comparison.

 

Teeth sink down harshly into Akira’s bottom lip, the stinging pain only exciting him more. He presses his hips forwards, and in turn Ryo moves against him, guiding a thigh up between his legs and grinding against him. The friction is sinful, addictive, and every nerve ending of his lights up with ravenous pleasure, coarsing through his veins like a divine strike of lightning. Every other sensation is overridden by his lust. He cannot hear the blaring music of the Sabbath, or smell the spilled alcohol making his shoes stick to the floor, there is only Ryo’s impossibly soft lips on his. Ryo’s breathy small sounds that get swallowed down between them. Ryo’s wet hot tongue coaxing him to kiss deeper, harder. Ryo’s guiding hands low on his back. Ryo’s muscled and thick thigh providing him the delicious friction he’s been chasing—

 

It’s so much better than his hand, better than humping into his sheets with wild abandon. Better than any dream he’s had because Ryo is real and tangible in his grasp. Akira keeps one hand on the wall to steady himself, and the other loosens the grip on Ryo’s shirt to fondle along his rapidly rising and falling chest. Up along his collarbone and neck to rest firmly right below his jawline. His thumb curls around Ryo’s chin and guides his mouth open wider.

 

The small blonde moans, low and sweet and their kissing gets messier, tongues slipping against each other like they may actually devour one another.

 

Ryo begins to pull away and Akira catches his bottom lip between his teeth, the metallic tang of blood follows. After Ryo sucks in quick breath he’s crashing their lips back together, wet with spit and blood. It’s animalistic and charged with the aggression from their arguing moments ago.

 

The hands around Akira’s back go to his hips, fingers wrapping around the belt loops of his pants to encourage and guide his grinding. The fabric and zipper of his jeans rubbing against Ryo’s leg provides a rough sort of friction that has his mind melting. He doesn’t want it to stop, as if the entire moment could slip away like all his filthy dreams do.

 

Eventually though Akira does have to breathe and he pulls back to pant against Ryo’s open mouth, noses brushing and eyes meeting.

 

“Oh…” Ryo coos, tongue darting out and swiping against the bright red blood dripping out of the tear Akira’s teeth left in the center of his swollen bottom lip. His voice comes out breathy and taunting, a mischievous glint in his entirely dilated pupils. “Did I make you mad?”

 

“Fuck you.” Akira seethes through his teeth.

 

“In your dreams,” Ryo whispers mockingly, pulling on his hips, smirking and laughing cruelly when he groans at the harsh friction.

 

It’s Amon who seizes Ryo’s jaw with a bruising grip, thumb pressing down into the wound on his lip. He looks deep into Ryo’s eyes, breathing the same air, and his mouth curls into a smirk. “Not just mine.”

 

Recognition flashes across Ryo’s face and Akira’s never quite seen him get so red. He’s embarrassed, he realizes with sudden clarity. Those blue eyes dart away and Akira realizes he can’t let his momentum falter because when has Ryo ever been fucking embarrassed in his life.

 

The devilman muffles the snarl ripping from his throat by finding Ryo’s lips again. He laps his tongue into his open mouth, stealing down the whine Ryo lets out. A cascade of pleasure surges through him, urging his hips faster, chasing the relief he’s so desperately been wanting. It would definitely be more pleasurable with his weeping dick out of his pants and against Ryo’s pale silky skin.

 

He can’t stop now though, not with the knot in his pelvis winding tighter and tighter. Heat pooling and spreading, every sensation narrowed down to his dick straining against his jeans, rubbing on Ryo’s thigh.

 

Ryo pulls back just a little, enough to whisper into the humid air between them, “Is this what you wanted?” His half-lidded eyes are dark and challenging, “—To hump my leg like a bitch in heat?”

 

Akira knows that Ryo is trying to seize back his control of the moment. He should say something snappy back and put Ryo back in his place. But, he cannot form any coherent response other than a pitiful whine, his teeth grind together and he tries to seal their lips together again. Who cares if Ryo is right. Who cares if Ryo wants to demean him, as long as he’s able to get off it doesn’t matter.

 

Ryo turns his head to avoid him and slowly rolls his hips sinfully, “I asked you a question.” He commands, his breath hot against Akira’s ear, tickling his flushed skin. “Answer me.”

 

The dark haired man burns with humiliation, Ryo revels in it. He’s powerless to disobey. “Ohh.. hah— Ryo- Ryo I…” Finger tips brush along the hem of Akira’s pants, bunching up his shirt and tracing the line of his bare hip bone. “Yes— Yes- Ryo…”

 

The other man hums, pleased as he whispers praise, “That’s my good boy.”

 

That’s what does it, a few more grinds into Ryo’s supple flesh and Akira goes rigid, eyes rolling back. His orgasm rips through him with white hot pleasure, the hand on Ryo’s throat tensing involuntarily while he moans and grunts into the opposite side of his neck. The release of built up tension between them finally giving way.

 

It feels like an eternity before Akira comes back to his senses. He’s only now noticed he’s been growling and biting and sucking on Ryo’s neck, a hand grabbing his coat on that side to yank it down his shoulder and out of the way. The other man just hums and tilts his head more into Akira’s hand, giving him more room.

 

“That was fast.” Ryo comments dryly, throat bobbing as he speaks, sounding all too damn smug.

 

Akira knows he’s being goaded, and if he was anywhere near sober he wouldn’t take the bait. In his current inarticulate state he grunts out, “Ugh- Shut up.” His voice feels heavy and harsh, his breathing ragged.

 

He pulls back to look at Ryo properly. Coat sagging off one shoulder tantalizingly, with that same side of his neck trailed with bites and hickeys. His chest rises and falls rapidly, breathing labored. If Akira unfocuses his eyes he can see his heart surging with blood, beating wildly as if it may burst right out of Ryo’s chest. His face is flushed with that same blood up to his forehead and the tips of his ears, and Akira’s never seen him look so irresistible or act so goddamn aggravating.

 

“If you really want me to shut up,” Ryo begins slowly, pausing as his eyes lower between them, and then his thigh raises a bit experimentally and Akira hisses through his teeth. He’s still fucking hard. Only difference is now his underwear is sticky and warm with his own cum. It doesn’t bother him as much as it would usually. Mostly because Akira follows Ryo’s fixed gaze and can not only feel, but see how Ryo’s slim fingers ghost across the hem of his pants to meet in the middle. He stops breathing entirely, as if even a small exhale could scare Ryo and his steady hands away. “—I could do something else with my mouth.”

 

He thumbs at the button of his jeans, nails dragging against the metallic zig-zag of Akira’s zipper. Slow, from the bottom to the top where the actual tab of the zipper is. The light touch causes a pleasant vibration along his confined dick, but it’s so maddeningly slow he begins growling.

 

What little control Akira had is shattered completely. Overridden by an all consuming heat, so hot it burns his insides with desire. Amon has had enough of this teasing. He blinks and suddenly he’s manhandling Ryo into the empty men’s bathroom and all but tosses him in one of the stalls.

 

Distantly, Akira thinks maybe this is a step too far— with the violent way they handle Ryo and grip at him with bruising harshness.

 

However, when he takes a good look at Ryo he can tell that the blonde is beyond satisfied with himself for having gotten this explosive response. With his barely contained smirk and pupils so dilated that there is hardly any blue at all. His hands grab around Akira’s face, one fisting in his hair and yanking him forward to lick back into his mouth obscenely.

 

Now enclosed in the bathroom stall together there isn’t a whole lot of room to maneuver, especially with the aggressive way they move together. Akira’s back hits the closed stall door and Ryo’s hands are everywhere. In his hair, pulling harshly- sliding down his throat and shoulders and chest. One hand goes lower, making him gasp when there’s suddenly a firm grip on the bulge in his jeans.

 

Ryo pulls back and looks down between them, humming as he slowly drags his hand up and down the outline of his dick. Without missing a beat, he drops down to his knees on the filthy bathroom floor, his other hand resting just barely on Akira’s thigh. His eyes tilt upwards and Ryo looks so debauched already- with his glassy pretty eyes and mussed hair, the split in his lip and the way his lips are spit-slicked, swollen and red from their kissing. It’s mesmerizing, like he’s casted some sort of spell over Akira as he’s unable to tear his eyes away from Ryo’s burning gaze. His dick isn’t even out yet and it already feels like the filthiest thing he’s ever witnessed, like Ryo is some porn star in a dirty movie.

 

A dark thought grips the devilman… How many men has Ryo done this with? The idea causes such a primal, visceral response within him. The outrage between Amon and Akira both is indistinguishable from one another. It makes them want to round up every unworthy human insect that subjugated Ryo to his knees. So that they may drop their severed heads at Ryo’s doorstep like an offering.

 

Nobody else deserves the privilege of seeing him this way.

 

Amon grabs a fistful of Ryo’s hair and tugs him forwards so suddenly that Ryo yelps and has to put his other hand on his muscular thigh to keep his balance. He pushes his face right into his clothed erection, growling and forcing his face over the straining bulge.

 

“If you wanna suck my dick so badly you better get to it,” Akira doesn’t even recognize his own voice, low and guttural. Ryo’s breathing picks up and his hands squeeze onto Akira’s thighs.

 

Those same pretty eyes dart back down to Akira’s crotch, level with his face and the devilman is transfixed as Ryo brings one hand over to pop the button on his jeans. Then his pupils are turned back up, dark and playful under his pale lashes. His teeth close around the zipper of his jeans and he starts to pull it down at a leisurely pace.

 

Akira stops breathing altogether, forgetting how. He’s fairly sure his heart has stopped beating as well and maybe he’s died and gone to heaven. Every movement seemingly in slow motion, with the only audible sound to Akira being the drag of his zipper. He can feel Ryo’s hot breath over his happy trail, then through the thin wet fabric of his boxers and it sends a pleasant tingle of anticipation through his body. He recognizes that Ryo is being a tease on purpose… always acting like a fucking little brat to rile him up.

 

Akira doesn’t much care because Ryo looks hot down on his knees.

 

Ryo tugs his jeans down just enough, and then he’s leaning forwards and mouthing at the cum soaked fabric. Dragging his tongue and mouth all over in an imitation of how the demon had grabbed him moments ago. His lips close around the outline of his tip and he sucks harshly.

 

“Fuck!—“ Akira accidentally flexes his fingers and tugs Ryo’s hair, and the blonde makes a strained noise.

 

He blinks down at Ryo and then pulls harder this time… and the blonde whines, shutting his eyes tight as his hips shift into the air. Akira’s vision is blurry, so he tilts his head to see down between Ryo’s wide spread knees and he’s hard.

 

He likes this. He’s fucking getting off to this.

 

Amon at least has the decency to not tell him that he told him so. Now, of one mind they grunt and pull Ryo’s hair hard just to hear the muffled mewling noise he makes.

 

Filthy words he’s never even thought about saying spill out of Akira’s mouth, ones he would surely be ashamed of later. “Go ahead, clean up the mess you made.”

 

The sudden obedience of Ryo is astonishing to witness. His eyes open and he grips the waistband of Akira’s boxers, pulling them down his thighs until his dick springs out. It practically whacks Ryo in the face, smearing his spend across his rosy cheek.

 

Ryo’s eyes go wide and then he’s not wasting anymore time— His tongue is impossibly wet and gentle as he licks along the underside of his cock, following the trail of his sticky cum. All the way down until he’s mouthing and lapping at his balls with his weeping dick rested on his face. Ryo has to look upwards at him from the position and he looks gone. His irises are vacant and black, glazed over and debauched while their aching cock rubs against face.

 

Through the haze of no blood flow in Akira’s brain he tries to sear the image before him into the very backs of his eyelids— With Ryo hard and wanting, glassy eyed as he worships on his knees.

 

He pulls back, dragging his tongue back to the very tip. Then his mouth opens just a little wider and Akira’s dick is being swallowed down into impossibly tight wet heat. It feels so much better than Akira ever thought it might. He groans and bangs his head back against the stall door. All the slow teasing touches are gone as Ryo starts to bob his head, taking Akira in deeper and deeper each time.

 

Obscene slurping noises fill the room, the head of his cock jabs the very back of Ryo’s mouth, entering his much tighter throat. His eyes roll back and his eyelashes flutter as he gags, Akira can feel the way his throat constricts until he’s relaxing the taut muscle. The fingers curled in his jeans yank him forward, driving him further into Ryo’s sinful throat.

 

Akira loses himself to the sensation. He tentatively thrusts his hips forwards and Ryo urges him on by moaning around his cock, then he’s movibg with him like theyr had out in the hallway. It’s difficult to keep up… Akira wishes he hadn’t drank as much so he could fully appreciate the scene before him.

 

Ryo makes an alluring image, especially when he pulls back all the way after Akira moves his hips a little too hard. Sputtering as he gasps in big gulps of air, spit and spend drips from his open mouth, tongue hanging out.

 

“Oh my God—“ Akira groans, running his fingers through Ryo’s hair in a reverent sort of way. Like he’s petting him, praising him for a job well done as if he’s his pet— And even with Ryo on his knees, the devilman still knows that it is truly the opposite. He is Ryo’s plaything.

 

He is the one brought to his knees by Ryo’s benediction, the one who bends to his will, not the other way around. Akira is at his mercy, willing to take anything he’ll give him at all just so he can bask in Ryo’s tender touches and skilled tongue. So that he may receive even a second of his radiant attention.

 

He cannot discern whether the thoughts are his own or a depraved mix of the demon’s.

 

Without a hint of shame, Ryo ducks his head to guide his length back into his mouth using his tongue. The taller man is reduced to a pitiful mess of moans while Ryo keeps working on him. Akira smooths his other hand through Ryo’s hair, cradling his head and pulling his soft blonde locks. He tries to stay still so he doesn’t make Ryo choke again— but Ryo starts yanking on his pants again and his spasming throat relaxes, he looks up at Akira through his lashes and swallows him down all the way. Until his nose his pressed into the sweaty coarse hair above his dick.

 

The muscles in Akira’s abdomen draw tight, he lets out a snarling growl and then he’s snapping his hips back and thrusting into Ryo’s mouth. His hands keep Ryo steady, even as the blonde snakes one hand down between his own legs. The pace turns frantic, Akira can’t form any coherent thoughts beyond how good it feels— with Ryo’s throat constricting much like a snake coiling around its next meal.

 

Akira shouts and bites down on his own tongue as his second orgasm of the night is ripped from him. It’s the best he’s ever felt, like crashing waves of euphoria against every atom in his body, leaving him a shuddering, gasping mess. When his eyes finally focus again he realizes he’s pulled Ryo’s mouth flush to his hips, fingers tight in his golden hair to keep him in place as he cums down his throat.

 

And Ryo… just lets it happen, completely pliant in his grasp with his eyes unfocused and throat spasming around the intrusion. He drags him by his hair backwards until his erection is sliding out of his mouth— Ryo opens his mouth wide with his tongue lapping at the underside of his cockhead. Akira grabs hold of his own dick, fisting himself like a man possessed because he just keeps cumming and it feels so good that he doesn’t want it to stop. It lands across Ryo’s tongue and lips and face, there’s some in his hair even. A final spurt has Ryo closing his eyes as it coats one of his eyelashes and over his eyebrow.

 

A wash of guilt flows over Akira as his senses come back, “Ryo— fuck- I’m sorry—-Jesus-“ He lets go of Ryo’s hair and frantically grabs a fistful of toilet paper, dropping right down to his knees with Ryo on the tiled floor to wipe the white spend out of his eye. “—I’m so sorry-“

 

Ryo is still trying to catch his breath, mouth now closed as he breathes in steadily through his nose. Akira cleans him up, wiping his forehead and nose, over his cheekbone— He catches sight of Ryo’s tongue darting out to lick up the mess across his lips and it makes Akira cock throb.

 

Those pretty blue eyes open again and all of a sudden Akira’s being pulled forward with a hand in the back of his hair and Ryo is smashing their lips together. He slips his tongue in his mouth, just a quick teasing swipe and Akira can taste himself on Ryo. He groans and kisses back, all of his apologies dying right in his throat because Ryo is kissing him hungrily. Biting and nipping at his mouth, sucking on his tongue- His body moves forwards and Akira has to bring his hands to Ryo’s hips as he climbs up into his lap, straddling him on the dirty bathroom floor with his soft hands cupping Akira’s face as they make out.

 

The charged moment is cut short as they both hear the bathroom door slam open and the sound that follows is nightmarish. Horrible, anguished wails of slaughter come from the open door.

 

Akira pulls away and turns his head in time to see through the crack in the stall door, someone trying to escape the chaos by running into the bathroom— An incomprehensible tentacle-like limb flies through the door and latches around the man’s ankle, pulling him down to the floor and right back out of the bathroom. The door is left swinging on its hinges, the sound of death flowing back in each time the door swings open until it slows and closes fully again.

 

Ryo’s hands are on his chest now, pushing him away and muttering curses under his breath as he starts to stand.

 

He couldn’t agree more. What the ever loving fuck?

 

The blonde keeps muttering to himself as he rights them- tucking Akira back into his pants and zipping his jeans up, pulling back up the sleeves of his coat that have fallen down his arms, wiping the spit from his chin, adjusting the bulge in his own pants and when he catches Akira staring he rolls his eyes and starts pushing on his shoulder.

 

They leave the bathroom stall, with each step Akira can detect the subtle changes in himself until he’s bounding out of the bathroom door with his tail swishing and his claws bared. His previous anger takes on a new target entirely. Everything becomes a blur. The flow of combat eases over the devilman, guiding his claws, his fangs. Adrenaline surges through him, never having truly left his body since he grabbed Ryo earlier that evening. Hot pulsing lifeblood drips into his mouth— He’s frenzied as he leaps from demon to demon, ripping them to shreds with a sick satisfaction.

 

His huge clawed hands close around spider like appendages, ready to rip them clean off their owner— But the pained yell the demon gives is familiar, girlish and high.

 

Amon recognizes her immediately upon taking a second look; Miko Kuroda. He releases her and in the chaos of the Sabbath he tells her, “Run on home, little girl.”

Notes:

akira ryo and amon having the time of their lives meanwhile miko is experiencing the horrors 😔

Chapter 16: Heaven’s on Fire

Summary:

Our drunken pair make it back to Ryo’s apartment. Ryo has an odd dream.

Notes:

idk whats up with me and the song titles but I’m having fun lol
this one is Heaven’s on Fire by Kiss

(yes the fic title is also inspired by the same song teehee)

TW for crazy canon typical violence, sleep paralysis, religious trauma, and referenced main character death(s) (in a dream/vision sequence) all in the very last section of this chapter.

Ryo’s mind is blissfully blank. It is exactly what he needed- to not think at all and just act on his basest desires. It’s thrilling to watch the devilman flow through the room and leave death in his wake. Ryo has learned to keep to the outskirts during these sorts of things, silently observing the way Akira carelessly throws himself at each enemy— With no regard for his own wellbeing, no thought or feeling other than how to subdue his next enemy. He often lets demons in far too close, making it seem like they have the upper hand just so he can get them in closer. Within the reach of his fangs and claws- to shred, eviscerate, desecrate.

 

It’s all a lovely blur until the carnage ends. Akira rips into his final enemy with a roar so powerful that the bottles still upright on the bar vibrate and the lights swaying from the ceiling shake. Then his hulking bat-like form is hunching over the carcass— and although his back is turned to him, Ryo can still hear the sickening crunch of bones, the slurping of sinew down his throat. It’s beyond fascinating to witness.

 

He makes his way haphazardly over to the demon, having to step on a body or two on his journey. As soon as he’s close enough, he purposely clears his throat and makes his steps a bit heavier, and it does the trick of not startling Akira.

 

Instead his wings twitch, shoulders and back muscles tensing as he freezes. The slow way Akira’s back ripples and he turns just his head with a measured slowness to look over his shoulder… is genuinely unnerving. His eyes are slits in the dimly lit room, predatory and gleaming as the rest of his facial features are obscured.

 

The blonde freezes as well, clearing his throat again to make sure his voice doesn’t waver, “It’s time to go, Akira.”

 

There is a brief second where Ryo thinks Akira isn’t going to listen for once and maybe pounce on him. He wouldn’t be entirely opposed to finishing their previous business right here— But, Amon has made Akira rather large, and a few people did escape the chaos so who knows if anyone called the cops.

 

They need to leave.

 

After a beat Akira stands and takes several thudding steps over to Ryo, his chest still heaving, tail thrashing behind him much like an agitated cat. Ryo puts a hand out and Akira stops when it presses into the greyed skin of his chest. His palm seeps in the incredible warmth radiating off Akira, indulgent as he spreads his fingers out to skim the coarse black fur that defines his waist. He can feel the rumble building in the demon’s lungs and turns his head up to address him. “You won’t fit in the car like that,”

 

The big beast doesn’t seem to register the words, or if he does there’s no indication. It’s making Ryo dizzy having to lean his head back to look up at his face, and he’s growing impatient with Akira just standing there huffing and puffing. Just as he’s about to lose his patience Akira’s big shoulders slump and gradually he shrinks back to his human self.

 

Akira looks exhausted, like he’s barely even awake, but his eyes still shine that eerie amber shade as he sways on his feet. Ryo shrugs his big coat off and steps closer to help him into it, guiding his arms and buttoning up the front. He wraps an arm around Akira’s back and guides him out of the Sabbath easily. He’s rather compliant after such a big fight, and Ryo is all the more thankful for it because he isn’t quite sure how he would even go about handling Akira if he wasn’t.

 

He plops him down in the passenger seat of his car, even taking the time to buckle him up because Akira is barely even holding himself upright. Ryo has driven home in much worse states before. If you asked him he would say he drives better high than sober anyways, so it isn’t much of an issue to hop into the drivers seat and take off. He does drive a fraction more carefully than he usually does, mostly because he thinks if he whips the car around a corner Akira might hurl chunks across his windshield.

 

Akira is quiet, forehead pressed up against the cold window with his eyelids so downcast that Ryo thinks he’s asleep at first glance.

 

With the radio a quiet murmur in the background and the hum of the car engine as company, Ryo endeavors to make sense of his actions earlier… Why didn’t he push Akira away? He’s been resilient in maintaining a line and stopping Akira every other time.

 

The simplest answer is that he didn’t want it to stop. Which he knows is true. Hell— he’s the one who offered to suck his dick…

 

What the hell is wrong with him?

 

The tiny voice of reason in the back of his head keeps screaming at him that it was a foolish mistake to take it that much further. He is the one who grabbed Akira’s hips. He is the one who dropped down to his knees on the dirty bathroom floor. Not Akira, not even Amon.

 

If Akira wasn’t dozing next to him he would probably scream at the top of his lungs and bash his head into the steering wheel until his brain starts to work again. Because tonight it clearly fucking isn’t!

 

He’s almost positive a little dry humping and a blowjob isn’t going to be satisfactory to the demon and his desire for flesh. In fact by Ryo’s own standards it was rather tame honestly. What Akira is going to do upon waking is unpredictable to even Ryo, and he doesn’t like not knowing. Maybe he won’t even come out of his drunken daze and he’ll pass out on the couch in Ryo’s coat again and he won’t even remember anything! Ryo’s fairly sure his own memory is going to be a bit hazy in the morning.

 

It isn’t long before he parks and Ryo has to address Akira’s presence in his passenger seat. He expects him to be asleep… but finds he isn’t. His dark brown eyes are low and unfocused as he looks in Ryo’s general direction. How long has he been staring? The blonde doesn’t dwell on that and instead clears his throat. “We’re here.”

 

Akira hums as he straightens up, rubbing his eyes and yawning. Ryo goes around to the passenger side to retrieve him, offering him a hand and then a shoulder to lean on. He doesn’t acknowledge the fact that Akira doesn’t let go of his hand, he just lets him be.

 

It has absolutely nothing to do with how Ryo actually kind of likes the weight of his calloused palm against his own soft hand.

 

Luckily they do not pass by anyone in the parking garage.

 

It’s in the elevator ride up to the very top floor that the tension begins to build again. Ryo can feel it, palpable in the air and on his skin making his hairs stand up. In the shroud of darkness and technicolor lights Ryo had felt a tad more confident than he does now in the bright elevator. He had also been more inebriated at the time, and driving had unfortunately sobered him. He wishes he still had his coat, the weight of it provided a nice comfort on his shoulders and back. He feels naked without it…. Vulnerable.

 

Akira’s warm body pressing in close to him is nice though. The taller of them sighs and slumps into Ryo more, resting his cheek on the top of his head, rubbing his face into his blonde hair- And oh… Akira is sniffing him. Taking in big, huffing breaths and practically nuzzling his face into Ryo.

 

“Mmh… Ryo…” He breathes his name out like a sigh. “…y’smell s’good…” Akira’s words slur as his body shifts, angling more towards him.

 

Ryo isn’t sure how to respond to that.

 

He instinctively puts his free hand on Akira’s shoulder as he moves closer. Akira’s grasp on his hand tightens and he brings their joined hands up to pin against the elevator wall by Ryo’s head. And so suddenly this horrible intimacy has trapped Ryo by all his senses to the spot— The sensation of Akira’s fingers slotted around his own, palm to sweaty palm, with his face now so close— too close. Ryo can see straight into his eyes, big and glassy with a dancing golden light like a flame igniting.

 

It’s too much.

 

He turns his head to avert his eyes from all that unfiltered raw emotion Akira bleeds out. There’s just so much of it— And the taller man takes the opportunity to press his lips to Ryo’s exposed neck again. This time more purposefully.

 

“Akira—“ Ryo isn’t sure what he was going to say, because Akira sucks on a mark he had left earlier. Instead he gasps rather embarrassingly, no intention of really stopping Akira at all because it feels good. He had thought Akira was too tired to pick up where they left off, or maybe Amon had been sated—

 

It’s a nice distraction from his racing mind. Akira’s hot mouth and tongue lapping at his pulse point in a slow, reverent way. A stark contrast from how the devilman had acted earlier in the night… And the softness and care with which he treats Ryo is almost painful, it makes his chest feel tight and the back of his neck burn.

 

“Ryo…” The deep timbre of the demon comes out of Akira’s lips, whispering his name like a prayer. He can’t take it—!

 

Ryo surprises even himself with his outburst.

 

He yanks his hand from Akira’s, bracing them both on his shoulders and pushes Akira hard— Slamming him against the perpendicular wall of the small space. And without missing a beat he crashes their mouths together with an urgent hunger.

 

It does the trick because the devilman is growling against him now, kissing back with the same aggression he had back at the Sabbath. If they’re going to do this it’s not going to be slow and sweet.

 

Making love— Is what some people call it. The phrase is something that sounds like it could come out of Akira’s stupidly sentimental mouth. How can one make that which doesn’t exist? Is all Ryo can wonder.

 

It’s a foolish phrase. There is no love to be had in the sick feverish glide of flesh on flesh. It is only pleasure. Plain and simple. That is all this is. It just feels good. He is just helping Akira out—

 

The elevator comes to a halt and the doors open.

 

They are a stumbling mess as they travel down the short hallway to Ryo’s front door. Both unwilling to separate now that they’re back on each other. Ryo is breathless by the time he begins to search for his door keys in his pockets… He doesn’t feel them in his jeans.

 

They’re in his fucking coat.

 

The coat Akira is wearing now.

 

“Ak- Akira—“ He pushes on his shoulders and turns his head to escape his persistent lips, “Akira, my keys are in my coat pocket.” The dark haired man stops trying to lick his neck and pulls back to stare at him, glossy eyed and vacant. “The coat that you’re wearing.”

 

“Ohhhhh… hahahah-“ Akira looks down and chuckles, like he’s just realized Ryo is right. He must be very drunk or very tired. 

 

The taller man lets go of Ryo and takes a half step back, he starts patting himself down and then reaches into the exterior pockets of the jacket.

 

It’s a little funny watching him pull out things and glare at them in confusion only to shove them back into Ryo’s coat pockets. He pulls out his cigarettes, a crumpled receipt, a loose stick of gum, folded dollar bills- Akira’s eyes go wide as he pulls out a butterfly knife and it falls open.

 

Ryo reaches forwards to take the weapon from him, closing the clasp securely and tossing it back in the pocket casually. 

 

He rummages around a little bit more while he sways and shows his empty hands to Ryo. “No keys!” He’s grinning like he’s done an absolutely swell job. 

 

Ryo finds it a little cute. 

 

“Check the pockets on the inside of the coat,” Watching Akira fumble around to try and wedge his arms awkwardly back inside the coat is fairly amusing. But he sure is taking his sweet time and Ryo can only hold onto his patience for so long. He would really like to go inside and have another drink. Or pick up where they left off.

 

He sighs, exasperated, “Come here,” Ryo pulls Akira a little closer by the collar of the coat. “Let me.” He can see the flush of Akira’s face grow deeper as he slips a hand under the fabric and his hands ghost across his skin on their journey to find the interior pockets of his jacket.

 

Akira makes a strangled noise while Ryo reaches into the interior of the coat, feeling along the seams. Ryo can tell Akira is staring at his face intently, his hot breath tickles across his skin. Maybe he should’ve just let Akira struggle, it would’ve been enjoyable to watch- His fingertips brush along Akira’s hip bone accidentally as he retreats from one side to check the other pocket. Akira jolts and his hands fly out to grab onto Ryo. One braced on his forearm and the other curling around his shoulder tight.

 

They both freeze. Akira is breathing like he’s suddenly ran a marathon. His grip begins to tighten and this close Ryo can hear the growl building up in his chest.

 

“Behave.” Ryo hisses out automatically, trying to curve whatever kind of hormonal outburst he’s about to have. “I’m only grabbing the keys.”

 

A deep rumbling hum emerges from Akira, “Got somethin’ else down there you can grab,” He sounds so stupidly smug with his slurred words, and when he looks at his face he’s still grinning like an idiot.

 

It’s a tasteless line, Ryo flushes despite himself. He kind of wants to smack that stupid look off his face… But it is just a little funny. Ryo absolutely does not choke down his own laugh. 

 

But, he can play this game again if that’s really what Akira wants. He bats his eyes up at him and smiles at him sweetly. “You really want me to only give you a hand?” He lowers his voice to a sultry whisper and Akira practically shakes. “How about I— Mmph—“

 

There is no chance to finish his proposition because Akira is kissing him again. He’s pretty sure he gets the idea though.

 

Ryo closes his eyes and, like the last time they kissed, he has to angle his head and assist Akira’s clumsy mashing of lips and tongue. He likes the way Akira kisses though, it’s overly messy and uncoordinated. Like he may die if he can’t keep their mouths pressed together.

 

His fingers touch the cold metal of the keys and he pulls them out with sudden urgency. Apparently they’re still going to do this. He steps backwards and reaches awkwardly behind himself for the doorknob. Akira makes a discontented sound as their lips lose contact momentarily, but they slot back together easily when he follows forward, pressing Ryo’s back against the door. One of his hands closes overtop Ryo’s and he takes over guiding the key into the lock and turning it.

 

The door opens inwards. The door Ryo is leaning all his weight against.

 

Air hits his back and then he and Akira are both sent staggering through the door with the momentum. Their kissing is stopped by the abrupt change and their foreheads knock together as Ryo stumbles backwards and Akira goes with him. One of his hands flies behind him to find anything to grab and he’s able to brace against the small table in the entryway. The edge of the surface digs into his lower back, and now his forehead fucking hurts.

 

He opens his eyes and finds Akira with a hand braced against the wall next to him, nearly fallen over with a bewildered look on his face as he rubs his sore forehead. They’re both covered head to toe in blood that isn’t their own, like a couple of extras in a gory horror flick. The whole thing is ridiculous, and Ryo lets out a drunken giggle at the picture they make.

 

Akira huffs out his own bemused laugh before he straightens up and reaches back to shut and lock the front door behind them. The atmosphere shifts palpably when he turns back to face Ryo, once again charged with the anticipation of what is about to happen.

 

It doesn’t take any time at all for Akira to recover, he’s back on Ryo and kissing him like they hadn’t been interrupted at all. They move through Ryo’s apartment in the general direction of the stairs. Akira guides him with his hands on his hips, wandering down lower to squeeze on the meat of his love handles. It’s a flailing mess of limbs bumping and teeth clashing together.

 

Ryo’s gets one shoe off by the door and kicks the other off somewhere in the living room. They bump into the couch and nearly topple over it, and then Ryo’s trying to go up the stairs backwards while Akira is just kissing him and kissing him— He falls on his ass halfway up and Akira’s huge frame just lays over top of him, slotting his hips between his legs and caging him in on the steps. It’s definitely uncomfortable with the edge of the stairs digging into his back and shoulders, but he really doesn’t care at all.

 

Nothing matters anyways. They could both die any old night they go out and hunt demons— Why should he care at all?

 

Ryo takes advantage of the position and reaches down to undo his own jeans. He starts to shove them off and Akira picks up to help him the rest of the way. Once down to a shirt and his underwear, he wraps his legs around Akira’s midsection and the other man makes a strained noise while Ryo pulls him in flush. The fabric of his coat isn’t providing a whole lot of modesty for Akira’s sake, as he can feel the defined curve of his cock against his own. Ryo bites on his lips and grinds up against Akira, using his legs hooked around his back as leverage.

 

The devilman makes an inhuman snarl and then bruising hands are grabbing onto Ryo’s ass and lower back and he’s being hauled up, held against Akira as he stands and bounds the rest of the way up the steps. Ryo lets out an embarrassing noise of surprise against Akira’s mouth and has to scramble to hold onto his shoulders.

 

They make it to Ryo’s bedroom and Akira kicks the door shut behind him, like the final nail in the coffin lid. The entire room is drenched in darkness, the only light source being the moon and the surrounding skyscrapers through the open curtains. He is then quite literally thrown onto his bed, landing on his back on the plush surface and bouncing a bit. Before he has time to even really comprehend that, or the girlish yelp he lets out- Akira has leapt onto the bed as well, hands either side of his head as he looms over him, panting like a rabid dog.

 

There’s only time to think for a split second that, yes, this is actually happening. And then Akira is licking back into his mouth with a barely suppressed need.

 

Akira’s hands start traveling along his sides, bunching up the fabric of his t-shirt until he’s slipping a warm hand over Ryo’s abdomen, right above the hem of his underwear. That large calloused hand goes further up, and brushes along the edge of Ryo’s binder and it snaps Ryo back to himself, suddenly so aware of the fact that they haven’t really talked about that.

 

“Akir—“ Ryo tries to speak, but Akira’s lips seal against his with a grunt. “Ah- Akira, wait,” Ryo turns his head to the side and Akira isn’t deterred in the slightest. He licks along his jaw, a low rumbling coming from his chest, like a cat purring. “Stop for a second-“

 

Akira is off him just like that, sitting back on his haunches and looking at him with eyes that reflect unnaturally in the dusky light. It reminds Ryo of an animal at night. His hands are off Ryo as well, now in his lap, fisted into Ryo’s coat so tight that it must hurt.

 

“Are you okay?” His friend asks, voice uneven and eyes wide with barely suppressed panic. Then quickly after, more urgently “Did I hurt you?” 

 

“Everything is fine,” Ryo coos, sitting up as well and now they’re close again. A few short inches separating them. He decides to be quick and clinical about it. Either it’s fine and they keep going or he banishes Akira to the couch so he can wallow in his rejection properly. 

 

He doesn’t like thinking about Akira finding him repulsive. But he might. And it scares him.

 

Fast, like ripping off a bandaid.

 

He watches Akira’s eyes focus on his lips as he speaks, “Before we do this you should know that I’m intersex,” Akira just blinks at him, no indication of any reaction at all, “—I have a dick, and a pussy—“ His eyes go comically large, “—-and breasts. If that’s a problem then-“

 

“Why would that be a problem?” Akira asks, sounding genuinely confused. And then his sleepy eyes flick down to Ryo’s body, like he’s trying to see through the layers of fabric to see exactly what Ryo is talking about.

 

Ryo keeps his voice deceptively even, “For some people it’s a problem.”

 

Akira’s brow pinches together and his frown deepens. His big brown eyes are glassy and tear filled when he turns them up again, “Who told you that your body is a problem?”  His voice is quiet but firm, and now all of a sudden Ryo feels rather put on the spot. He had thought maybe they could just gloss over it and keep going, but Akira always contradicts his best laid plans. Throwing him for such a loop that he can’t form any response at all.

 

His silence is not satisfactory for Akira. The other man sniffles wetly, overly emotional, “Ryo— your body is perfect- you’re perfect.” 

 

Alarm bells go off in Ryo’s mind. He’s lying. He’s disgusted. He doesn’t mean it—- Akira leans in and kisses him tenderly. His lips are featherlight, chaste, filled with adoration so heavy it weighs down on Ryo’s lungs and steals all his breath away.

 

When they part Akira’s pupils fixate back up to Ryo’s face, dancing across his features in such a terribly open way. He opens his mouth and disarms Ryo for the millionth time that night, “You’re perfect.” He sighs it out with such conviction- like he really truly means it.

 

It threatens to dig into his ribcage and claw its way to his heart, where this gnawing feeling can burrow and grow—- Ryo gets the immediate and clawing desire to bash his head against the wall to make it stop.

 

He absolutely refuses to have Akira ‘make love’ to him. He is not some stupid blushing virgin!

 

“Shut up.” Ryo demands, enjoying the huff his partner emits as Ryo brings his hands up to the edge of the coat around his body. He begins undoing the buttons with practiced ease.

 

It’s all Akira has on, and right now it’s an obstacle in Ryo’s warpath. He gets the final button undone, now occupied with sliding his coat down Akira’s broad scarred shoulders. His eyes have adjusted to the dim lighting, and although he’s seen Akira shirtless and even naked plenty of times… this is much different. He doesn’t have to pretend he isn’t looking, he can drag his hands along his tan skin shamelessly. Akira sucks in a quick breath when he finally pulls the coat the rest of the way off, shoving it to the floor and leaving him naked.

 

This is what all those famous sculptors through history were picturing when cutting marble. Thick broad shoulders, well defined muscles down his chest and abs, his strong thighs—

 

“Ryyoo…” Akira whines, squirming with his teary eyes and red face. Ryo could eat him whole.

 

Ryo shushes him and summons every ounce of tipsy confidence still within him. He puts on what he hopes is a seductive look and sits up a bit straighter, closer to Akira. He grabs the bottom of his own t-shirt with crisscrossed arms and lifts it up and over his head in one fluid motion, tossing it to the floor.

 

With only his undergarments on he is severely less blood soaked. His hair feels a little crunchy from where demonic and human blood has dried in certain spots. There’s probably a few flecks of blood on his face still from the slaughter— But he fares better than Akira. Who looks as if he jumped into a pool of the stuff. Ryo knows for a fact how far down the trails of crimson go and now he can follow them with his eyes.

 

Back to the task at hand, he grabs Akira’s hands with a calm touch, guiding his hands up to the binder. “Here, this is how you take it off.” He sets his hands on the clasps on the side and Akira seems to get the message. He wants Akira to take it off him.

 

The taller man’s grasp is shaking and fumbling just a tad as he explores the fastenings on the binder. Slowly he begins undoing the garment until it hangs loose on Ryo’s shoulders. Akira helps him slip it the rest of the way off and then he’s staring down at Ryo’s chest and practically strangling the loose binder in his grasp. His breathing is ragged, heavier now than before.

 

Ryo almost wishes he turned the lights on so he could see the look on his face better. He lays back in the pillows and is shocked when Akira doesn’t immediately just grab his chest. Instead he’s frozen in place, ogling down at Ryo with an unreadable expression.

 

He scrapes his blunt nails up Akira’s thick arms to cup his face and tugs him back in to kiss him so he can’t say anymore stupid things or keep looking at him like he’s some wounded thing. He drags his legs open so he can wrap them around Akira to pull him flush, much like he had on the stairs. Their hips are misaligned though, as Akira is so much taller now. Ryo’s cock presses into the firm muscles of his lower abdomen, and he can feel Akira’s nudging down into the sensitive growing wet patch of his underwear. Where his cunt has gotten wet to a humiliating extent.

 

He wants to kiss hungrily, with tongue and teeth and the iron of blood. But, Akira kisses him tenderly. His hands don’t squeeze down harshly like Ryo wants either, instead he caresses him slowly, methodically. His hips don’t even rut wildly into Ryo’s either, instead he presses his leaking cock into the cloth of his underwear a little timidly, grinding just barely. The movement so slight, it’s more of a teasing twitch than anything else.

 

The shorter of them cards his fingers up through Akira’s messy hair, grabbing a rough fistful as he bites down hard on Akira’s lips, eliciting a sudden tremor through his frame with a bone deep groan. Akira’s hands move down and he squeezes down on Ryo’s breasts hard for a split second, and then he’s right back to laving his tongue into Ryo’s mouth at a relaxed pace. His hands are pleasantly warm as he begins to fondle Ryo carefully. Pinching his nipples between his fingers lightly, sliding his hands up and down his torso. It feels nice but at the same time it borders on something so dangerously raw and compassionate.

 

It’s like worship. Like some sort of holy rite with their mouths sealing the pact in the coppery tang of blood and the slick slide of tongue. The only word Ryo’s brain can conjure to describe it is devotion.

 

There’s something wet dripping from Akira’s face down onto Ryo’s face. The salty taste of tears enters their joined mouths and Ryo pulls back. He tilts his head up to peer through the darkness, and he spots the reflection of fat tears gliding down Akira’s cheeks. He slips his fingers from his hair to cup his face. Unsurprisingly his hands become wet as he wipes his tears away.

 

Maybe this was a really big mistake.

 

“S-Sorry—“ Akira sniffles, eyes huge like teary saucers, “I— I just—-“ He chokes on his words, bringing the heel of his own palm up to wipe at his eyes. “Sorry-“

 

“It’s okay,” Ryo can’t help but to get a little self conscious. Like maybe he had done something to upset him… Well they had been screaming at each other an hour ago.

 

“Wh-why would s-someone make you feel like your body is a problem?”

 

Huh.

 

As much as Ryo had wanted to see Akira cry earlier this is not at all how he pictured it.

 

“Some people have a preference,” He explains. Akira scowls down at him. “—of what gender and genitalia and-“

 

“B-But I like you s-so why would I have a p-p-pref—“ Akira groans and rubs his face, wiping his still wet eyes stubbornly.

 

“Preference?” Ryo supplies, and his partner lets out a miserable cry, crumpling over and nodding as his crying is now in full swing. As much of a mood killer as it is, Ryo finds it endearing… Akira and his big bleeding heart. As sweet and docile as a puppy. 

 

He cards his fingers up through Akira’s hair, smoothing some of it out of his face where it’s gotten stuck to his sweaty forehead. He rests his head in the crook of his neck and shushes Akira, soothing him in the ways he’s learned with time. A gentle hand on his back, rubbing up and down the scars of where his wings emerge from, over his shoulder blades and neck. The hand still in his hair scratching his nails through his scalp, untangling the wild portions when his fingers snag.

 

“My p-preference is you.” Akira mumbles into his skin, so quiet that Ryo pretends he doesn’t hear it. He cannot acknowledge that without ripping his own soul apart. 

 

It takes an age for Akira to begin calming down, he sobs and hiccups and cries with all the emotional turbulence alcohol can bring. Akira’s body is a nice warm weight on top of him, and eventually Ryo zones out.

 

On top of him Akira lets out a huge sigh and worms his arms underneath his body, wrapping around his midsection as he seems to finally relax. His sobbing has quieted, the tears on Ryo’s collarbone and shoulder are drying and it’ll be sticky and gross when Akira gets up from his hot breath— Ryo doesn’t have the energy to care.

 

He means to extract himself from this predicament after Akira passes out, but he’s so warm and comfortable… It wouldn’t hurt to rest his eyes for just a minute.

---

 

Ryo isn’t sure what wakes him. But his eyes begin to blink up at the ceiling, his eyelids so heavy it’s like trying to pull wool from over his eyes. He registers the weight of Akira on top of him, and pushes him to the side as if he weighs nothing at all. He is compelled to sit up and extract himself from the bed.

 

The room is coated in the silvery light of the moon. With his eyes barely adjusted he walks around the bed, toeing over the scattered clothing silently. As if his feet aren’t even touching the ground. As if he’s gliding across the room, pulled by some preternatural force.

 

His hand reaches out and he opens his bedroom door with a slow creak.

 

The clean white hallway of his apartment is not there.

 

Dread creeps up his spine as he looks at the hallway of his father’s house back in America. Dark wood paneling and old wallpaper that casts eerie shapes in the dark, the stained carpet runner down the hall— His feet force him forwards, he is unable to fight or scream or make any sound or protest. The door slams shut behind him.

 

He can hear it now. The rain outside. The thunder, the lightning cracking through the windows and shaking the entire house, making it creak and groan in the wind as if it’s alive and breathing.

 

That isn’t all he hears.

 

There are voices. Dozens of whispering voices, the words indecipherable to his ears but he can hear them all the same. Chanting. Urging him forwards even though he does not want to move.

 

He enters the garage and watches his father drench himself in gasoline again. Look him in the eyes, repeat those words to him. And ignite himself again.

 

And, just like he had in reality. He stands there, watching with childlike curiosity, head tilting as he attempts to comprehend why.

 

Ryo isn’t sure what wakes him. But his eyes begin to blink up at the ceiling, his eyelids so heavy it’s like trying to pull wool from over his eyes. He registers the weight of Akira on top of him, and pushes him to the side as if he weighs nothing at all. He is compelled to sit up and extract himself from the bed—- all over again.

 

When he opens the door this time he is greeted with the inside of the Makimura residence.

 

The rain is still there. The thunder and lightning is still there…

 

The voices have begun to chant louder, closer. He doesn’t know why he’s aware of it, but something terrible is happening.

 

Shadowy humanoid figures move around him, faceless as they laugh with weapons drawn and flock inside the open door. Ryo is compelled to walk against his will.

 

The youngest Makimura, Tare, runs for the stairs from the living room. He barely lets out a scream before a crossbow bolt is fired through his head, nailing his small body to the wall. He hangs there limp and lifeless, eyes and mouth still open wide. A figure chuckles as it cuts his head off and totes it like a trophy by his hair.

 

Ryo is the first to begin up the stairs, moving noiselessly to not alert the prey.

 

He catches Miki Makimura unawares. She freezes for a second in the hallway and then she’s off like a race horse, bolting towards the door of her bedroom. He holds the huge knife in his hand tighter and dashes after her. She throws the door shut but he’s already halfway through and reaching for her with his free hand.

 

She wails as the knife plunges into her back, carving a huge gash that sprays hot crimson all over the room. Miki falls forwards and cries as she fruitlessly attempts to crawl away. Ryo drops to his knees and stabs her until she isn’t rasping in air any longer through her punctured lungs.

 

Ryo wakes in his bed again. He shoves Akira’s body off of him again. He gets up and walks out of the door again.

 

There is nothing but warmth, darkness and the sound of bells. Like a wind chime in the gentle breeze of a summer day.

 

He can feel cloth tied around his eyes, obscuring his vision as he is walked forwards forcibly.

 

There is also pain. A real physical agony at his ankles and wrists. Chains rattle at his ankles, heavy and searing. His wrists are out in front of him, bound by the same irons that burn into his flesh and he is tugged forwards by the bindings.

 

There is someone pulling him forwards. They begin speaking to him, tone pointed, accusatory… “You were the signet of perfection—“ This is not judgement, this is a sentencing. “To be the wisest of us, the most perfect in beauty.”

 

He doesn’t feel fear, although he knows he should be faced with mind numbing trepidation.

 

“You were anointed by God- in the midst of the fire you walked—“

 

The flapping of wings. Several of them. Nearly noiseless and much like the melodic tolling of bells.

 

“You were blameless in your ways from the day you were created-“ He is pulled forwards roughly, forced down to his knees. He tries to cry out, no sound escapes his open mouth. “—till unrighteousness was found in you…”

 

Ryo can’t understand. That isn’t right. His father said that to him before igniting himself—

 

The voice gets louder, booming all around and nowhere all at once with his final sentence. “You have sinned. So, we shall cast you out as the profane thing you are from the mountain of God!” The sounds of agreement come from all around, like whispers in the wind, faint and innocent sounding in their judgment. They do not know any better.

 

He hears the chains rattling against each other again, and with such suddenness it knocks the air from his lungs he is dragged forwards by the chains. Then he’s toppling over an edge he hadn’t even known he had been in front of, the weight of the burning metal trapping him like the inescapable pull of a black hole.

 

He falls, and falls, and falls, and falls.

 

Ryo wakes up again in his bed with a jolt. The expected weight of Akira is not on him. He turns his head to look across the bed and sees Akira lying there on his back with the sheets pulled up to his bellybutton. With his face turned away, Ryo cannot see his expression.

 

He can still hear the rain. The wind whipping outside and dashing against the building with such force it’s violent. He can still hear the whispering voices, once again chittering away in a language he cannot comprehend. The dark corners of the room bring the sensation of being watched, dozens of eyes on him, observing and waiting—

 

There is something uncannily wrong. And Ryo knows it, he knows that there is something horribly wrong with Akira. He doesn’t know what it is, but he knows that it is all his fault.

 

His body moves of its own accord, sitting up and then leaning over towards Akira while he reaches out for the sheets. Dark splotches seep up from under the fabric, and Ryo can smell the iron of blood in the air. He already knows what he’ll find under the covers but he is forced to look.

 

With pale fingers he draws the white fabric down in one swift motion and his blood runs ice cold.

 

There, on the bed lays Akira’s severed upper half. His organs bulge from the clean cut wound, some of them sliced through as if there were bisected by a surgical saw blade. His face is lifeless, eyes open and vacant… empty.

 

Akira’s blood is all over Ryo’s hands. He knows this is his fault. It’s all his fault. It will always be his own doing. 

Notes:

I feel the need to say I myself am trans (any pronouns are cool i dont gaf) and took great care to write Ryo in a way that I think reflects a lot of his fear in the manga of Akira not finding him sexually attractive and rejecting him because of his “otherness”

oh ya sorry about putting ryo (and you) thru the horrors at the end 😃

Chapter 17: Breathe

Summary:

Ryo and Akira both wake up. Ryo takes control of the situation in the morning.

Notes:

y’all I second guess myself so much abt chapters like this but its a slow burn so fuck it we ball

chapter title is from Breathe (In The Air) by Pink Floyd

Tw at the beginning-ish for getting sick/vomiting

Opening his eyes reveals nothing but the unfurled darkness spreading around the room. It’s nearly indiscernible if his eyes are even truly open at all from the stygian abyss. Instead of attempting to see, Ryo uses his other senses.

 

The weight of Akira is still atop him, breath hot and steady against his neck. His entire body is plastered to Ryo’s, and it is far too hot and sweaty. His arms are secured around his midsection, as if Ryo may slip away. He wishes— he can’t breathe. What was once a comforting embrace now feels like he’s trapped, being crushed and all the air driven from his lungs as he breathes rapidly. He can hear the soft patter of rain outside, tipping his paranoia into full blown panic.

 

He needs to get out of here now. Before this waking nightmare catches up to him. Whether he is asleep or awake is irrelevant to Ryo in the moment. All his body screams for is to escape.

 

Try as he may, he is unable to move at all. He tries to get his fingers and toes to wiggle awake, and they do not. He opens his mouth and nothing comes out but a choked rasping sound. The world feels as if it’s spinning much too quickly, and bile rises in his throat.

 

He’s trapped in this never ending loop. Trapped even within his own body like a cage. Nobody can help him—- nobody would bother to help him anyways. He’s alone. Like always. Alone…

 

His heart is beating so wildly that he can feel it about ready to burst, his breathing has turned to near hyperventilating and the weight of Akira on his chest does not help. Instead weighing down on his lungs and making him feel more trapped than ever, as if he’s being suffocated.

 

He doesn’t want to believe he’s awake. If he lets himself relax and is lulled into a false sense of security only for it to ripped out from under him—- It would be too cruel to withstand.

 

Nobody is coming to save him. Nobody ever does.

 

It’s been a long time since Ryo has had sleep paralysis, and a nightmare of that nature. He can count on one hand the times he can recall, each of them varying in their appalling nature. What he most remembers from them is that chill up his spine from being watched… the voices whispering indecipherably… the melodic twinkling in the air, ethereal and haunting… They all had these same defining factors. Always some sort of horrible death he cannot prevent, or with the blood staining his very own hands.

 

Ryo waits in the near deafening silence, willing his eyes to close since he hasn’t been subjected to any haunting visages yet. He waits… and waits… and waits. Completely frozen, unable to scream or move or do anything other than endure. He chokes the nausea he feels down by sheer force of will.

 

It feels like years before his fingers twitch in Akira’s hair, and slowly his muscles come back to life. No longer at the mercy of his subconscious, he is able to move himself freely. He gasps in air through his mouth, putting both hands on Akira’s shoulders to shove him off. And this time it takes some muscle, but he’s able to achieve it with the adrenaline coursing through his veins. He rolls him off just enough so he can disentangle their limbs and escape. Akira lets out a soft grunt and squirms back into the pillows, alive and still asleep.

 

As soon as Ryo sits up his stomach lurches and he knows he’s going to vomit. His legs are still trying to wake up as he stumbles through the darkness to the bathroom, he doesn’t bother with the light switch and instead reaches a hand out to feel along the sink edge. As soon as the cold porcelain of the toilet is under his fingers he dives down to his knees, throws open the lid, and vomits. He clutches the sides of bowl, shoulders hunched over and keeps purging until he’s dry heaving painfully.

 

It feels like he’s just spat out all his guts, he’s coated in a sheen of sweat, his hair is in his face and his throat burns a little. He shakes from head to toe, and rests his sweaty forehead against the bend of his arm while gagging and heaving. His stomach clenches painfully as it attempts to empty itself but there is nothing left to throw up.

 

Still his breathing does not get any less labored and his heart hammers wildly in his chest. Distantly, logically, he knows he needs to try and calm himself, but logic is far removed from his thoughts now. He is subjugated to his own mental anguish, chained and bound to it like real physical chains.

 

There is this sense of impending dread. Like the walls are closing in on Ryo. As if the very Earth beneath him is crumbling away and he’s in free fall, tumbling down into the flames licking at his heels.

 

Keeping track of time in this state is not among Ryo’s priorities. It could be minutes or hours, or perhaps even eons before he hears the creak of the floor to his side and drags his eyes over to the open doorway. Full blown terror shoots down his spine.

 

In the doorway there is a black void of a humanoid silhouette standing there looking at him with completely inhuman shining eyes. Yellow and predatory.

 

It’s like the mob from his nightmare come back to take him too— drag him down to Hell as punishment. He deserves it—-

 

The instinct of fight of flight is so biologically ingrained in all living creatures, and Ryo is not exempt. Most often his body responds with fight and this occasion is no different.

 

When the shadowy figure approaches, Ryo steels himself and thinks about anything he could potentially use as a weapon in the dark room. The toilet brush is useless and frankly he would be mortified to go down swinging with that as his weapon. His hands  and legs are still shaking, he feels drained and weak… On the back of the toilet tank is the heavy porcelain lid— if he’s quick enough he might be able to—-

 

As the figure gets closer it becomes harder to see them, all the dim light from the open doorway being obscured by the hulking form. Ryo acts on pure instinct, diving for his chosen weapon. He gets his fingers curled around the edges and is about to swing the heavy thing towards the shadow, but there are hands quickly grabbing at his wrists-

 

He drops the lid and instead drives his elbow back into the body coming up behind him as hard as he can. There’s a grunt and a deep voice that sounds familiar but Ryo is too panicked to be rational. “Quit it— be still-“ Ryo squirms and struggles until his captor pulls his back flush to his chest and pins his arms still, incapacitating Ryo.

 

He has to keep fighting, he needs to escape.

 

“Relax— breathe.” The arms around him get tighter as he continues to struggle fruitlessly. “Just relax. You need to calm yourself.”

 

“No- no, no—“ Ryo is already worn out, too hungover and inebriated to put up much of a fight beyond his initial outburst. He’s hyperventilating, shaking like a leaf- He’s going to die— Everyone is going to die and it’s his fault- “I can’t- I can’t stop it from happening—“

 

“Angel,” The deep rumble next to his ear is calm and unwavering, as are the hands that grip his wrists firmly but not harshly, “Just breathe.”

 

The endearment rattles around Ryo’s loose brain, the sound of it from that deep timbre bringing a creeping sense of deja vu. All at once it hits him like a truck.

 

He can’t move- He can’t escape the blinding white blast of heavenly light still swimming in his vision. Every fiber and molecule in his body is alight with the overwhelming need to run. Far away from the light, where it cannot reach him. Where it cannot burn his retinas and boil his damned flesh away— He needs to escape-

 

“Angel, just breathe.” Amon’s voice is like a guiding hand outstretched in the darkness. Repeating the same soothing words softly to him, easing him out of his paralysis. It isn’t long until he’s gasping in air and his eyes fly open and he can finally move again. “There you are, angel.”

 

Ryo blinks and finds he’s now kneeling on the floor in comforting arms. There is a hand rubbing up and down his spine and another that brushes his sweaty hair out of his face, tucking tangled strands behind his ears. His ears are ringing terribly, and everything is spinning and blurry… But with his impromptu savior here this close he can see that it is Akira— or rather Akira’s body with the shining awareness of Amon behind his eyes. He wonders distantly if Akira is even cognizant at all… perhaps he’s dreaming, sleep walking even.

 

Perhaps Ryo himself is still dreaming. He’s unsure, but he supposes it doesn’t matter. This dream is already leagues better than all his others. He lets his body finally relax, slumping into Akira’s arms as all the fight leaves him at once. He rests his forehead into his shoulder and closes his eyes again, making an effort to slow his rapid breathing.

 

Eventually the ringing in his ears subsides, and he can hear that same deep voice again. Speaking to him so kindly and gently that he really must be dreaming. “—reathe, that’s it. Just breathe… you’re okay.”

 

Ryo listens and wills his body to obey. It is easier to give in than to continue fighting. And why shouldn’t he? Amon says he is okay, and so far he’s not wrong.

 

The fine sheen of sweat clinging to his body has started to cool and that is enough to make him shiver. After relaxing bit by bit Ryo pulls back and peers at Amon in the haze of darkness.

 

“Thanks.” Ryo croaks after a second of thought, clearing his throat afterwards to rid himself of the roughness. Then without thinking because he’s freezing his ass off, he asks, “Can you get my shirt?”

 

Amon gives an affirmative noise, releasing him and taking his warmth. He stands and leaves the way he came, returning with the garment, obedient as a hound. Ryo lifts his arm to take it and the devil just takes the opportunity to slip it on his arm. Rather than protesting, the blonde lifts his other arm in the darkness and huffs when the collar of the shirt is pulled over his head. He’s squatted down again in Ryo’s space and he pulls the cloth hem down over his chest and stomach. His hands are so warm even through the cotton fabric, but his touch is utilitarian and not lingering.

 

It is so gentle that Ryo cannot fathom this being only Amon’s doing. A demon does not have the capacity for this sort of care, and especially not for a human. It must be Akira’s nature bleeding into him, it is the only logical explanation.

 

Those hands move towards his neck and Ryo tenses up. His fingers barely brush his skin and they gently pry the curled ends of Ryo’s hair from where they had been trapped under the collar of the shirt. He even makes sure the tag is tucked in at the back of his shirt, smoothing a hand down his back after he’s done.

 

Why..? Why is he being so kind? Ryo can’t understand it. He can’t understand—

 

“Are you done getting sick?” Ryo is still reeling from all the tender care that’s been forced upon him, but he nods, “C’mon.” Hands find his own and he is hauled up to his feet. The world spins from the sudden change but with the firm grip Ryo is led out of the darkened bathroom in a daze.

 

In the bedroom he is able to see marginally better. Silvery light from the moon floods in through the open curtains, and in his dreamlike state he’s sat on the edge of the bed. He lets himself be manhandled into the bed, laid back against the pillows, blankets pulled up and tucked up around his sides securely.

 

Golden shining eyes fixate on his own, “Stay put.” As Akira stands Ryo surges with panic, and he watches his silhouette walk towards the door that leads to the hall. The door Ryo kept opening over and over to no avail in his dream— It opens to bright white light and Ryo flinches… then he realizes it is only the white walls and flooring illuminated by the light in the hall.

 

Soon enough, true to his word, Akira’s form reappears in the doorway and he shuts it behind him again with a soft click. The bed dips as he climbs in, covers pulled aside as he dives under to join Ryo. He sits close and in his hand he extends an open plastic water bottle. Ryo takes it and sips the liquid, soothing his burning throat. Next to him the devilman adjusts his own pillow and lays down leaning up a bit, a few courteous inches of space between them.

 

Ryo’s mind is still trying to catch up with how casual and intimate the last few minutes have been. Is he really just going to lay down and go back to sleep…? Ryo isn’t sure he wants to go back to sleep, but laying down in his warm bed sounds nice. He’s pretty convinced now that he isn’t dreaming at least. The last few moments have grounded him to reality.

 

A sure hand takes the half full plastic bottle from his limp hands and secures the cap back on. Then Akira, or Amon, or whomever is in front of him, leans over his body to put the bottle on his nightstand. He sets down something else and Ryo realizes he’s gone and grabbed his cellphone for him too. He even plugs the nearly dead electronic in to charge and then he’s retreating out of Ryo’s space again all too soon and lying back down as if to sleep.

 

“Lay down and relax.” Easier said than done… but Ryo supposes it is better than driving himself crazy the rest of the night… morning…? He reaches over and taps his phone screen to see the time. Just past three thirty in the morning.

 

Ryo shuffles back under the covers more. He lays down facing away from his bed companion, sliding an arm under his pillow and curling up on his side. This way he can stare out the floor to ceiling windows at the night sky, usually calming… but he can also see the rain falling against the windows and running down the surface like tears, warping the light from the stars and the moon. He sucks in a quick breath, shutting his eyes tight as if he can escape the very sight. He can still hear the rain hitting the side of the building—

 

The bed shifts behind him, there’s a hand guiding his shoulder to turn him around to lay on his other side. Ryo goes willingly although he does tense up, keeping his eyes screwed shut because now Akira’s face is close. So very close that he can feel his hot breath on his face.

 

Akira’s heated hand doesn’t leave his body, instead sliding back around his shoulder blade and to the center of his back. His fingers rub a distracting pattern against the fabric of his shirt, firm enough to not be ticklish but light enough to not cause harm. “This okay?”

 

Ryo sighs in relief and hums affirmatively, inching closer to seek out more of the warmth radiating off his body. It makes things much less complicated in Ryo’s mind when the other bridges the gap and initiates the intimate touch. He can just accept what is given.

---

 

The first thing Akira registers upon waking is how comfortable and relaxed he feels. Usually these days he was waking up in various states of discomfort, whether emotional or physical, so it’s pleasant to wake up and feel nice for once. There’s no gnawing desire for pleasure or bloodlust, only the blissful sensation of floating somewhere between waking completely and falling back to sleep with the warmth of the sun on his skin.

 

As time ticks on, gradually Akira can feel the thrall of sleep taking over again. He reckons he can get away with it, his alarm hasn’t even gone off yet…

 

Something ice cold shifts against his bare legs and his eyes fly open, suddenly very awake. He sucks in a quick breath and holds it because he’s met with the sight of unruly curled blonde hair at eye level. He looks down and Ryo’s face is nearly pressed into his collarbone, expression slack and still asleep. Akira has an arm thrown around his back, curled around him comfortably and it keeps Ryo close. He’s got his freezing feet stuffed between Akira’s calves, leeching off the heat from his body. His pale arms are squished between them, one of his slender hands has a loose grip on Akira’s between them. Only a light intertwining of a few of their fingers, but that is what gets him to blush. The heat rising particularly in the back of his neck.

 

The memory of last night begins to trickle back.

 

He recalls the burn of alcohol in his throat, the constant thrum of rage and lust coursing through him until he… he had… Oh fuck. Deep shame surges through him, followed by the sting of tears. He remembers the cloudy haze of violence and everything after is like some sort of dream or distant memory he can’t quite grasp.

 

His burning temple pressed up against the cool glass of the passenger window, his breath casting a humid cloud on the surface. Ryo is there helping him out of the car and then for some reason Ryo is pushing him up against the wall and kissing him. They’re stumbling along and there’s hands on his bare skin. It feels so good he never wants it to stop- He wants to have Ryo all to himself— in his dripping maw, down on the floor, over any and every surface he can feasibly bend him over or push him up against—-

 

Ryo told him to stop so he did. He can be good, he can behave- He looks so beautiful in the silvery light, pale lashes low and his face flushed deep. His lips are moving, saying something completely stupid, implying that there is something inherently wrong with his body. Akira can’t fathom it. He’s perfect, shining, radiant. Has he looked at himself? What sort of ungodly creature would make him feel that way?

 

Ryo is harsh and biting, aggressive and unyielding. Akira aches to get Ryo to believe his words, and actions are always louder than words- He pours all his longing into his touch, all of his harbored affection for Ryo into every movement. For he is the temple that Akira worships at, he is the idol to be regarded with reverence akin to God—-

 

He cannot recall anything beyond that. Fear grips hold of him for what else might have occurred. What did he do to Ryo? What could Amon have done to him? Akira stares down at Ryo’s blissful sleeping form and a pit of dread opens wide in his stomach and threatens to swallow him whole.

 

Did he….?

 

Ryo’s hair is wild, sticking up and curled in ways Akira’s never seen. His lips are swollen a little still and in the light he can see the faint bruises littered over the rosy pink. His bottom lip has the cut from his teeth still. Above the collar of Ryo’s t-shirt he can spot the mess of hickeys and bruising bites he left. He did that. He did all of that to Ryo….And Ryo had been kissing him back.

 

There’s a rising conflict in him because he does remember Ryo being just as enthusiastic with the proceedings as he was… But they were both drinking… Maybe Ryo’s judgement was compromised and he felt coerced because of the simple fact that Akira is physically stronger… Maybe he felt like Akira was his responsibility since he was getting so unmanageable… Maybe he played along so he wouldn’t get hurt?

 

It stings worse than any pain he’s felt. Worse than any injury inflicted upon him. It’s like having someone punch him in the gut and knock all the wind out of him. Like a knife plunging into his chest. Like a blinding blaze of light that cleaves him in half, separating his bleeding heart from his sick nature.

 

The fingers intwined with his own twitch and Akira realizes he’s probably breathing too hard, the force of it ruffling the hair in front of his face. He holds his breath and watches Ryo, trying to will his eyes to stay shut. He can see the way his eyelids begin to scrunch and his eyelashes flutter— He’s going to wake up.

 

He’s frozen in self-imposed terror while he watches Ryo wake up incrementally. Soon enough Ryo is bringing up his free hand to rub his eyes, yawning while the rest of his body squirms under the covers. His eyes are still shut, but he moans while stretching and the low sound of it brings fresh heat to Akira’s face. His eyes still stay shut as he settles back down, and the sound of his voice startles the devilman.

 

“Quit breathing so fucking loud,” Ryo grumbles tiredly, and then he peeks one icy blue iris at him as he complains, “I’m trying to sleep.”

 

The floodgates open now that Ryo is conscious and addressing him, it’s impossible to stop the word vomit coming forth, “Ryo- I— I’m so sorry-“ He withdraws his hands from Ryo, even scooting backwards with the intention of creating space. “—I don’t know what happened to me last night— I- I— I’m so s-sorry- I just grabbed you and- and—“ His voice cracks and the sting of tears is present as ever, welling up in his eyes so fast his vision has already begun to blur. “A-And took advantage of you and forced you—“

 

A hand slaps over his mouth, silencing him and drawing his attention to Ryo, who is very much awake now. He looks irritated, and Akira knows he should be, he has every right to be livid—

 

“You aren’t capable of forcing me to do anything I don’t want to do,” Ryo’s voice is quiet as he mumbles in an exasperated fashion. “Quit thinking about it so hard, it was just some fun. I had fun. Now let me sleep.”

 

What.

 

Ryo’s hand slips from his mouth and his eyes close again, as if the conversation is done and the issue is resolved just like that. Akira’s mind is reeling, trying to catch up. The dark haired man wets his tongue, trying to will the words out of his mouth he wants so desperately to ask. “I— Ryo…” It’s right there on the tip of his tongue, unable to even form a single syllable; Did we have sex?

 

“Hn?” The blonde doesn’t even bother to open his eyes again, but honestly Akira is sure this would be more difficult with that piercing gaze on him.

 

He clears his throat to try and dispel some of the roughness, “Did I um— well I wanted to ask—-“ He fumbles spectacularly, and now Ryo is looking at him and it makes his face feel warm. He can properly see the bruises on his neck go down even below the cotton fabric of Ryo’s shirt collar… He swallows his guilt and tries again in a small voice, “Did we… y’know?”

 

Ryo blinks at him and Akira can see the twitch of the corner of his mouth, “Did we what? I don’t know what you’re asking, can you be a little more specific?” Akira almost wants to scream, and is nearly about to when he follows up, “What’s the last thing you remember?”

 

Akira has to avert his eyes now because trying to recall the events just fills his subconscious with images of Ryo splayed out on the bed, irresistible bare skin on display. He tries to literally shake the idea from his head and then answers, “A bit after your shirt came off- I remember what we um- talked about.”

 

The blonde hums, propping his head up in his hand, elbow bent and pressing into the mattress. “Well, to answer your question,” Akira can feel his heart in his throat, “No, we did not fuck,” His faint blush deepens considerably, he’s unsure if he’s relieved or disappointed at the news. “Not for lack of trying though. You just started sobbing and passed out on top of me before we got there.”

 

“Oh God—“ Akira has to turn over onto his back so he can properly bury his face in his hands and groan into them. He can hear the faint snickering of Ryo next to him but Akira is mortified. He can’t think of anything more embarrassing. Last night wasn’t his best, certainly not how he pictured any of his big ‘firsts’…

 

First he cums in his pants after a few minutes of kissing and then when he’s about to lose his virginity he goes and ruins it by blubbering drunkenly all over Ryo. He is glad at the very least nothing else happened, he doesn’t really want to have had sex for the first time in such a state. He’d much rather be fully cognizant and be able to remember the event.

 

“It wasn’t bad… I had a good time.” Ryo assures again, then a little softer, “Did you?” He asks in a near whisper, the sound of it making his ears burn red.

 

Akira keeps his face buried in his hands and nods probably much too fast, the shame in him only growing.

 

“In that case, why don’t I just help you out from now on?”

 

He’s almost positive he didn’t hear that correctly. He peeks out at Ryo from behind his fingers, “What?!”

 

“I’m saying we can have sex, casually. It’s not going to be any different. It doesn’t mean anything, so as long as you don’t get too emotional or confused I will help you with your problem.” Ryo explains like he’s offering to give him a ride or pay for dinner. Not whore himself out to Akira. “Unless you’re going to make it a big deal— in that case forget I said anything.”

 

The taller man clamps his mouth shut and rubs his hands down his face, trying to will his brain to work and come up with a solution that doesn’t involve screwing his best friend constantly like he’s his personal fuck toy. Because Ryo is a person, with thoughts and feelings and he doesn’t deserve to be treated like he’s a piece of meat. Even if Ryo is the one offering, it still feels morally wrong somehow.

 

That is what he desires. That is what we desire. There is no issue.

 

Akira shivers all over from Amon’s voice in his head, and of course he makes it sound so simple… He grits his teeth and bites down his conscience because it is almost what Akira wants. He wants Ryo, body and soul, all of him completely— What Ryo is offering is purely physical, and Akira doesn’t know why he expected any different. Ryo was always logical, precise… He wouldn’t attach himself to Akira in such a romantic context... Does Ryo even think about things like that?

 

Of course Akira knows he loves him. It’s evident in everything Ryo does for him, the sort of loyal love between two friends who have always relied on one another. And Akira loves him… He does. Everything is just so confusing already… how could he possibly get any more lost?

 

What else can he do…?

 

Akira pulls his hands from his face, “Okay.” He agrees, turning his head back over to look at Ryo and the blonde is already settled down on his back, now scrolling on his phone he’s retrieved from the nightstand because it had taken Akira so long to answer.

 

His gaze flicks to Akira and he gives a smile, one of those genuine ones that makes Akira’s mind syrupy and stupid, “Okay.” He echoes and then turns back to his phone.

 

Comfortable silence fills the sun soaked room. Akira pushes the implications of their agreement to the very back of his mind, and instead reckons he should probably get up. The sun is much too high for when he usually wakes up for school, meaning he has already missed some of the day… Speaking of- There’s something he’s supposed to do today. Something important…

 

Last night was Wednesday so that would mean today is…

 

Thursday.

 

Oh Hell.

 

Akira clears his throat, sparing a glance Ryo’s direction. “Hey um… what time is it?”

 

“Ten till noon. Why?”

 

He steels himself, “My parents are landing in Tokyo at one today.”

 

Ryo’s thumb stops scrolling on his phone, and his head turns slowly to look over at Akira. His expression is unreadable, deceptively neutral, but Akira sees the way his jaw tightens, “You’re just now telling me this… because…?” Ryo tilts his head and raises an eyebrow, sitting up in bed fully now.

 

Akira shallows the lump in his throat and shrugs, honesty is the best policy, “I dunno— there’s been a lot going on- I forgot to bring it up—“

 

“You forgot?” Ryo repeats incredulously, setting his phone aside and now Akira has all his attention. In all his furious glory, “How do you forget something like that?” He opens his mouth to respond and Ryo cuts him off, “It doesn’t matter— Come on, there’s no time for this. We both need to get cleaned up.” The blonde shoves the covers aside, coming off as only mildly irritated.

 

Akira is left gawking and stammering while Ryo strides into the ensuite. He takes a look down at himself and yeah, a shower would do him a lot of good. There’s caked on blood and who knows what else all over him.

 

“Are you coming or what?” Ryo’s voice carries, drawing him in like a moth to a flame. He gets up and goes to join him.

Notes:

I like to think ryo/satan wasn’t a completely physical being in heaven, so having a body on earth is a struggle and sometimes his body doesn’t wake up with his brain causing sleep paralysis.

he doesn’t take good care of himself, hence the need for jenny to take care of him in every loop lol

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 1 of Heaven’s Fire