My Bloody Murderous Angel.
Disclaimer: NO, I worship Kaori Yuki but I'm not her, so the only thing I own is my Michael plushie.
Mika x Raph (Strange sequel where this is the beginning of "Pheromones, Corny Phrases and unspoken thoughts.")
Final note: The times when the Archangels were young were never mentioned anywhere, so this is mykind of eechi xD vision. YAOI.
Bloody hands, bloody lips.
My Bloody Murderous Angel.
Syne.
The corpses filled the deserted hallways of the Castle in Heaven. They were everywhere, serving as a proof of what had happened a few hours ago. A bloody massacre right after a demonic rebellion. Nobody was expecting it, alas...
A single figure waded through the ocean of corpses, examinating the dead. The few intact survivors let him do the nasty work so that it wouldn't be their duty and left, not wanting to see any more of it.
He had other motives for he thought his young soul would be forever tainted after the hideous things he had been forced to do to prove his loyalty to God. To name one...he knew casting a rebel out of Heaven was a serious matter, more so if the fallen one was dangerous and powerful, though he would never forgive himself for casting his own family from Heaven, even if the cold bastard had deserved it. That and the pure hatred for every living thing that had been caused by severe childhood traumas.
So his head had been picked on, kicked around, mocked upon...
The Angel of War walked through the hallways, hearing the painful moans of the dying and the silence of the dead with a heart of stone and deafened ears.
Then, as he knew would happen, something clicked inside his mind and he went ballistic.
The blood flowed out of deadly injuries that caused pain to their bearers, staining the pure white corridor tiles with scarlet fluid.
He lusted after it, craved it so badly, knew it so well...
He walked right past the least appetizing bodies and settled for a couple of handsome ones. He usually picked the corpses that looked bloodier, but in this case those were the grossest.
The red head licked the open wounds, searching for fresh blood. Finding none, he looked for another body and did the same. He repeated those actions for hours –still being undisturbed by others- until he tried the last one. It was past seven o'clock in the morning, and there wasn't any decent lighting yet. The warrior tasted the coppery liquid and settled for a victim after hours of searching.
The lithe figure straddled a corpse's hips, and seemed to be licking blood off the body. Its moves were animal but somewhat graceful. That's how he found it in the dark, alone in a corridor with no one else than those whose hour had come too early. The woman (?) was arousing feelings deep within him, making him want more and more of that pale –and quite bloody- skin.
-Hey, the existence of angelic necroses never crossed my mind. Wouldn't you prefer having some of a living man instead?
The young man ceased his actions and observed the other feeling a bit embarrassed at that comment. He had feral eyes that incited the other to direct more critics at him, and finding nothing but silence and contemplation from the stranger, he licked the bloody neck of the dead man below him and stood. The red head tried to walk past the taller man, but failed. His wrist was held by a strong grip, one that refused to let go. He felt curious fingers through the holes of his fishnet shirt, hot breath at his ear, soft but demanding lips at his neck...
-Stop it fool, I am no woman.-He looked at his predator for the first time.
The blond laughed lustfully and held him close, closing the gap between their bodies.
-It's time to try new things, isn't it?
Michael sensed fresh blood, looked up and saw... a huge gash that went from the left eyebrow down to a pallid cheek; it sent rivulets of scarlet down the face of the gorgeous blond, making Michael feel his passion rekindled by it. He licked the red drops off salty skin and literally threw himself into the arms of the beautiful stranger.
Stumbling steps would have been heard if anyone had been near, the noise –not the only noise anyway- echoed and traveled through the air, somehow getting louder thanks to the kind of construction the Castle had.
The pair could barely move, for they were occupied enough with kissing and groping each other mercilessly, mad with longing and desperate with desire.
Once they arrived at their destination –a random door to an empty bedroom- the blond threw the shorter teen on the bed and moved with feline grace until he reached the other's lips. Michael grew bored of kissing, and de-attached his arms of the black and laced elbow-high gloves (a.k.a. arm socks x3). He started inflicting damage upon the skin of his arm with his nails as razors. Only when he felt the warm blood flow out of his system he felt somehow released of his growing need. The blond saw a mild change in the expression of the one under him and murmured into his ear, licking the earlobe afterwards.
-I don't know what you're doing to yourself, but you seem to like it. Wanna tell me about it, so I can try it too?
Michael gasped trying to hold back a moan, hand covering his mouth. The Proud Warrior had to swallow hard and then attempt at talking.-I-I...I need blood...
The blond sat up, straddling the red head's hips, and arched an eyebrow upon seeing a combination of painful self-inflicted wounds on the arms of his new lover and the latter's flushed face. The handsome pervert reached out for the hurt arm and overlapped his tongue over the cuts, provoking a new wave of pleasurable feelings to the angel of War. He had the urge to ask, after seeing his young lover cover his mouth with his hand once again.
-Why don't you let me hear your voice? –He removed the aforementioned hand out of the way and kissed it passionately- I'm sure you'd feel much better that way...
Michael swallowed again and closed his eyes, breathing harshly.-I can't...let him hear it...
A golden eyebrow arched once again as he attacked the neck of his prey. –Who the hell is 'him'? –he asked, a bit jealous.
-The Prince of Darkness...
Suddenly, the red head had the urge to cover his semi-naked body and pushed away the blond, who groaned in disappointment.
-Fuck off; I don't want him laughing at me because of you.
-Why do you care?!- The blond said, trying to push the teen back on the bed with him and succeeding.
Long red locks tangled in his fingers as he ran a hand through the lovely hair of the adolescent. Fishnet was removed once and for all; hands were held back and rubber shorts were played with. Michael had no chance to mute any noise at that kind of stimuli.
The teen pulled his fishnet long sleeved shirt over his head and accommodated his long red hair back so that it wouldn't annoy him. Feigning nonchalance he puffed hot breaths of air as he tried not to succumb into temptation, putting on his thigh high boots instead. With one final shove, he angrily rejected the other as he was trying to -convince him to stay.
-Fuck! Let me go! I said I don't wanna give him another reason to mock me.
The blond gave up and fell back, shouting angrily as his lover left,
-Fine, be that way! I won't get in between of you and your boyfriend!
Michael was trying to cleanse his body in the sacred river when he was interrupted by a horde of lower class angels that said their message was important.
-Oh Great Michael-sama, it was ordered to us by the superiors that you must meet your fellow Archangel of Wind, the Healer.
-I'm busy; I'll meet the Oh-so-wonderful Healer when I'm in the mood.
His suspenders were down, letting the rubber shorts ride low on his hips. The soft red hair clinged to the wet torso.
Out came the famous Healer, announcing his arrival with a burlesque phrase, -I'm not in the mood either, but you could try to be more respectful to—
Both Archangels met; upon seeing the blond, Michael laughed maniacally. That was to be the beginning of a great friendship.