Popsicle: Hi, this is my first fic in like...jeez 5 years? Its also the first thing I wrote for Blue Exorcist... Not sure what came over me but I fell into a few new fandoms and got the writing bug. Figured I should throw them out there so other people could judge me instead of let them rot on my computer.
Warning: Hits at a m/m relationship/friendship.
Taste of You
Dreary overcast skies cast a dim light in the graveyard. The gray light barely lighting the equally gray stonework of the markers. This place was empty, besides one lone figure standing in front of a tombstone.
He was an odd looking man, dressed all in white and quite tall and thin. Silky purple hair cupped his face and a well kept goatee jutted from his chin. His face looked like it often contorted into a grin, eyes dancing of mischief. So unlike the somber expression it held now. No, right now, this tall, childishly dressed man, held an air of being untouchable, unapproachable.
This was a moment not to be disturbed.
Mephisto squatted down in front of the grave. Gloved fingers tracing the kanji that made up Shiro's name. His face was not particularly sad, as he stood in front of his lost friend.
No, Shiro was more than that.
They had never decided quite what they were. Friend, foe, ally, enemy, lover...
They had been all of these things. Yet so much more, not even the king of time and space could quantify what all they had been, all they COULD have been.
All that they could no longer be.
Despite the belief of most humans, demons did have emotions. They were just different, more intense in ways, and duller in others. More carnal, more animal.
Lose was one Mephisto had grown accustomed to. He had many great friends, great allies, great lovers over his time in Assiah. They all had been dear little pawns to Mephisto, but humans decay over time, this was something he knew quite well.
But they had not been Shiro, none of them had been Shiro. Shiro was not a pawn, not even a knight or a bishop.
Shiro had been his queen.
"...Shiro."
The man dug into his pocket, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. "...I hated when you smoked. The smell would get into everything, and never leave." Delicate, gloved fingers dug out a single smoke from the pack before laying the rest on the grave.
"I swear you did it to annoy me..." The man stood, holding the cigarette to his lips and lighting it.
Slowly he pulled in a drag of smoke before blowing it out.
"But now..." He placed the lit cigarette on the gravestone before slowly stroking the name carved into it.
"This is the only way I can have the taste of you in my mouth..." He stood there a moment more, a sad smile crossed his lips as the bitter smoke wafted around him.
"The game is less fun without you Shiro..." It was barely a whisper as Mephisto turned from the grave, cape flapping around him for just a moment before he was just simply gone.