Extraordinary
Chapter One: What To Expect of the Unexpected
Scott was late to class, and he knew it.
In a way, he was relieved: he wouldn't have to suffer through the 'introductions' that you always experienced at the beginning of a school year, where all of the students have to stand in a circle and say their names, favorite color, and whatever else the teacher comes up with. He figured college wouldn't be any different. But, he was still late, and he really didn't want to be.
He raced down the hallway in a desperate effort to find the apparently hidden chemistry classroom in the goddamned gigantic university, his huge, leathery wings flapping madly behind him.
He had always been proud of his wings. They were a true black – so black that they appeared a deep blue or purple in direct light – that faded into a midnight blue at the tips, which ended in small talons. They didn't have any scars or burns upon them: he had never really enjoyed the rough fights that his fellow demons liked, and his family didn't take the yearly trip to Hell. In fact, Scott wasn't really jealous when the other kids had bragged about meeting Lucifer himself – he was just another fallen angel, wasn't he?
Scott's tail was fashioned in a similar manner: black with a blue tip, ending in the incredibly cliché spike that humans added in their cartoons. Ugh, humans. Scott really didn't see the appeal of them.
Then again, most demons didn't. Angels, though, were another story. The angels bonded with humans more often than demons did, but it was still pretty unusual for a human to marry any form of the supernatural. Angels marrying demons, however, was unheard of. One might even say that it was unnatural.
Scott continued scurrying down the hall, the panic he had felt before now faded into a dull resignation. He wasn't going to be able to make it to class.
The halls were completely empty: everyone else seemed to have the entire university memorized and found their classes with ease. Scott snorted at them with some ferocity.
Taking the extreme emptiness of the corridor under consideration, Scott sat down onto the cool tile, setting his supplies – journals, pencils, pens, etc – beside him. He leaned back on his hands, enjoying the silence while it lasted. Which was not for very long.
He suddenly felt a slightly painful tug on his right wing, and an 'Ooof!' of surprise was heard, accompanied by the sound of several items hitting the ground with dull thunks.
"Um, ow," Scott stressed, leaping to his feet and turning so that he could see his offender.
It was an angel, naturally.
The heavenly creature glared up at him with warm brown eyes from his place on the floor, scowling. Scott frowned at him. "You might want to watch where you're going, angel." He spat the last word out like it was the worst insult to be heard on Earth. Said angel raised an eyebrow.
"Perhaps you shouldn't reside in the middle of the hallway, then."
The angel flared out his wings in his frustration with Scott, and for a moment, Scott was unaware of his surroundings.
The angels wings were, pardon, fucking gorgeous. They were a deep, chocolate brown, small black specks freckling the feathers. The feathers themselves were each individually tipped in black.
The angel snapped them against his back when he noticed Scott's staring, and began to scramble around for his books, which had scattered everywhere. "Why are you here?" Scott asked snidely, tone clearly indicating that he thought he was superior. "Classes started half an hour ago."
The angel gave him look that clearly stated that he thought Scott was an idiot. "I'm late, obviously. What were you doing, sitting in the middle of the hallway?"
Scott didn't feel like explaining his situation, so he instead settled for a simpler answer. "Just relaxing."
The angel didn't respond, and instead continued to shuffle around for his possessions, stuffing them all into a shoulder bag. Scott knelt down and began to help him, albeit begrudgingly. "I'm Scott," he started, feeling a little guilty.
"Mitch," the angel grunted.
They continued to hunt for stray pencils and pens in silence, until (finally) it appeared that all of the supplies had been picked up off of the gray and blue tile. Scott stood up, brushing off his wings and stretching, but Mitch remained on the ground, bent low and eyes scanning for an unknown object.
"Um, what are you looking for?" Scott asked, chuckling a little meanly.
Mitch didn't answer, and still continued to crawl across the floor, searching for something. Scott sighed, now a bit annoyed. "I said: what are you looking for?"
Mitch ignored him again. Scott slumped a little, his leathery wings drooping behind him. Mitch was clearly still upset with him. This meant Scott had to do one of two things: apologize and find out what the hell the angel was still looking for, or he could accept Mitch's silence as a dismissal and walk away.
Alright, the curiosity was killing him.
Scott took a deep, calming breath in preparation of what he was about to do. 'You're over reacting, Scott. It's just an 'I'm sorry.' You can do it, idiot.' Scott thought. His entire body shuddered at the thought, and Mitch shot him a strange look as he shivered.
Scott ignored him and inhaled largely through his nose. 'Here we go.'
"I – I'm sorry," he managed to choke out.
Mitch looked at him, surprised, before he noticed Scott's great pain in the apology. He grinned too wickedly to be anywhere near angelic. "Sorry for what, exactly?"
'He's the Devil,' Scott growled mentally. 'The wings don't even matter. He's the Devil trapped inside an angel's body.'
"I think you know what I'm, er, regretting."
Mitch turned his gaze up at the ceiling and shrugged. "No, I'm afraid I don't."
Scott's eyes rolled skyward. "I am sorry for tripping you, therefore causing you to fall and drop your things."
Mitch grinned genuinely, and Scott was a bit taken aback from its radiance. Damn angels. Mitch turned back to scanning the floor. "You're forgiven," he told Scott in a soft tone.
Scott rolled his eyes. "Please, no chick flick moments."
He couldn't see his face, but Scott was absolutely certain that Mitch was rolling his eyes.
He stood there, awkwardly, watching Mitch crawl around on the floor, his feathers rustling slightly from the movement. Scott's own wings gave an irritated flap. "What are you even looking for? We've gotten everything!" he nearly cried in his exasperation.
Mitch turned around to look at him, red dusting his cheeks lightly.
'He is not adorable he is not adorable he is not adorable – okay, goddammit, he's adorable. But that doesn't mean anything.'
"I'm, uhm, missing a pen," Mitch said, blushing harder. Scott raised an eyebrow. "Okay, just leave it; I'll get you another one."
Mitch's eyebrows rose to his hairline. "A demon offering to do something kind? The world must be ending!"
Scott scowled. "No, trust me, this is for my own benefit."
"How so?"
"Er – nothing that concerns you."
Mitch shook his head and set back to work. Scott took a step toward him. "Did you hear me? I offered to buy you a new one, just leave it."
"Um, no. I mean, this pen is sort of, uh, special." Mitch's already crimson cheeks deepened in color. Scott was rather amused.
"And how is this pen 'special'?"
"It's my, erm, lucky pen."
Scott laughed, and ignored the obvious cuteness that Mitch presented himself with. There was no possible way that Scott found an angel attractive. "Dude, I'll just get you a new – wait, is this it?" Scott stooped down towards the floor and plucked a green gel pen off of the tile, holding it up for Mitch to see. Mitch's wings slumped in relief.
"Yes, thank you."
"I don't see why you have such a serious attachment to a pen, but, to each his own," Scott taunted. "Just, please, inform me when the wedding is. I would love to be there."
Mitch glared up at him as he snapped his bag shut, the pen safely inside, with more force than necessary. "Well, it sure was lovely to meet you, Scott, but I have to get going." Sarcasm dripping off of every word, Mitch was already heading down the long hallway, his back to Scott.
Scott was a little irritated by the sarcasm, and shouted after him, "All right! See you later, Shortie!"
He held back a bout of laughter as Mitch's huge wings gave a flutter of indignation at the insult. As soon as Mitch's retreating back disappeared down the hall, Scott turned back to where his stuff lay, silence now pressing against his ears. He was maybe just a little bit lonely without company.
In the end, Scott decided to just forget about the class and explore his new dorm room, and to meet his roommate (he crossed his fingers for a nice, devilish demon).
Naturally, he got the unexpected.
After he had spent ages trying to locate room 221 in the B building (seriously, was this place a maze?), he had expected to jump onto his bed and set up his section of the room, maybe catch a little shut eye. Unfortunately, that is not what he received as his welcoming present.
Instead, when the dark door labeled '221B' in gold swung open, he was greeted with obnoxiously loud Queen music playing, and a bearded man was lounging on the couch. Scott scowled; this wasn't cool.
"Hey!" he said loudly, slamming the door shut behind him to increase the startling effect. The man jumped up, a smile already on his face. Scott narrowed his eyes – where were his wings?
"Um, hi," the guy said awkwardly. Scott noted, with annoyance, that the dude hadn't even bothered to turn down his aggressively eighties music. "You must be the new roommate," the guy continued. Scott didn't respond. For a while, there was an extremely awkward silence stretching between them.
He was human.
This didn't make any sense whatsoever. This was a school especially designed for demons and angels only – no humans had been included in the mix. In Scott's eyes, humans were only a little higher than angels on the social ladder. Only a little.
"I said, 'hello'," his very human roommate said, annoyance coloring his tone.
"You're a human," Scott informed him, raising an eyebrow in disgust.
The guy shot him a look. "Yes, and you're a demon. The world is just full of surprises today."
Scott scowled at the human's mocking tone. "You're not allowed here."
The guy rolled his eyes. "Nice to meet you too. The name's Kaplan. Avi Kaplan."
Scott narrowed his eyes at Avi's cheesy antics and reluctantly said, "Scott Hoying."
Avi raised his eyebrows and nodded, grabbing a thick book from his nightstand and plopping down on his bed, burying his nose into what was apparently a very riveting tale.
Scott glared at him for a while before falling onto his own bed, staring at the cracked ceiling. College was proving to be a little different than what he'd originally thought.
Scott awoke with a jolt to his alarm clock, his fairly pleasant dream (full of hell fire and torture) dissipating quickly. He groaned loudly and buried his face into his pillow, trying to ignore his blaring alarm. He vaguely heard a deep voice from across the room mutter, "Shut up."
He ignored his roommate and tried desperately to fall back asleep, but to no avail; his alarm clock's incessant beeping was keeping him from accomplishing his goal. So, half asleep, he climbed out of bed to get dressed for the day, struggling to get his wings into the wing-holes in his shirt, not for the first time. He glared at the sleeping form of Avi on his way to the bathroom.
Unlike the chemistry classroom, he had no trouble getting to the English room.
He was actually pretty early to class, which was a shock to him, Satan, and who knows who else. Only a few students sat at the tables, talking quietly. Scott was just about to seat himself at the table nearest to the door (to escape easier, if things go amiss) before the teacher cleared his throat loudly.
"You won't be sitting there, Mr. Hoying. I've put you up there along with Mr. Grassi," he said kindly, pointing to one of the tables in the back of the room. His voice was rough and gravelly, and admittedly pretty sexy.
Scott shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. "Whatever, gorgeous."
The teacher narrowed his eyes and him and tilted his head to the side, similar to a puppy. "I ask you to treat me with respect, Mr. Hoying."
Scott's eyes rolled skyward. "Okay, whatever, Mr. Novak."
Mr. Novak rolled his shockingly blue eyes, and Scott just barely caught his mutter of "Demons," under his breath.
Scott flung his bag onto the table and spun around, curious as to why the teacher would have said that. When Mr. Novak turned his back to the class to write something on the blackboard, the answer was very clear.
A pair of big, fluffy black wings were folded against his back, the feathers fluffed up and messy, just like his dark hair. Of course he was an angel. It was just Scott's luck.
Scott snorted at his the state of disarray his teacher's wings were in and kicked his feet up to rest on the table, leaning back against his chair and folding his arms behind his head to complete the look. He instantly sat up when Mitch, the angel he had met the previous day, walked in, looking rather nervous.
"Um, Mr…?" Mitch asked the teacher.
Mr. Novak smiled. "Novak," he finished kindly.
Mitch nodded. "Mr. Novak, uh, where do I sit?"
Scott tuned out the conversation, already bored with it, until he watched Mr. Novak point up towards him, saying, "—over there with Mr. Hoying." Mitch instantly frowned upon seeing his new classmate, and continued to look displeased the entire journey to his chair next to Scott.
Scott grinned mockingly at him. "Nice to see you again, Mitch."
Mitch ignored him as he sat his stuff down, pulling out a spiral notebook and several different colored pens. Scott observed him with interest as Mitch organized the pens until they were all in a straight line, in rainbow order, and opened up the notebook. Mitch glanced up at the blackboard, jotting something down. Scott noted that Mitch's handwriting was lovely; it was slanted and curvy, almost like cursive. But, Scott assumed that all angels had lovely handwriting, because it just seemed right.
Scott looked up at the board, and seemed to deflate. "Oh, come on, there's a focus? I thought those ended in high school!"
This got a response out of Mitch. "Yes, of course there is. It's not like college is a school or anything, right? We just laze out, doing nothing, very similar to what we like to do in the hallway," he snapped.
Scott raised his eyebrows at Mitch's outburst. "Geez, dude. I was joking."
Mitch looked shocked. "I'm sorry, that was actually really rude of me. I'm just grumpy, I guess." Even Mitch looked unimpressed at his excuse.
Scott snorted and rolled his eyes and the angel's behavior. "Yeah, whatever, Featherbutt." He was well practiced in the art of denying apologies. It was his second nature.
Mitch glowered at the derogatory nickname, but didn't say anything, instead focusing on Mr. Novak as he started the class. Scott smirked. 'Maybe angels aren't so bad.'
Scott was immediately horrified that he had allowed that one thought to even cross his mind. Angels were horrible. It was in his nature to hate them. 'But maybe Mitch is different.'
Scott smothered the thought and stamped it down. There was no way he liked the heavenly creature. No. Way.
He was just glad that angels couldn't read minds. Because a demon liking an angel… well, that was impossible.
0o0
Hey, so this is a new story! I have posted the second chapter, because this one was technically already posted on Testing… Testing.. One, Two, Three, even though it was only a rough draft. Otherwise, I'll be posting on Sundays.
Ill also do this thing where I slip in a character or reference to another fandom in here, and if you guess, you'll get a free virtual cupcake and fun GIF of the fandom! So, go guess, my sweets!
~turn-the-pages