Ever since their first kiss Yusuf has been looking at him with eyes that hold nothing back. Yusuf’s eyes are like the night sky, deep and dark and beautiful, and Nicolò can feel them resting on him, somehow, even when his back is turned. But Yusuf is not playing games. He doesn’t hide when Nicolò catches him, but lets his gaze linger as if to say, “Yes. I’m looking at you.”
Lust is not a sin that has ever truly tempted Nicolò. It’s not so much that he’s naive or innocent, but that the charms of women are wasted on him, and the hasty, fumbling encounters of another kind he has witnessed a few times in some dark corner seemed mostly pitiful, often vile and held no appeal to him.
But what he feels when Yusuf is looking at him, is nothing like that. It makes him feel warm inside and weak in the knees, and somehow, for the first time in his life, Nicolò finds himself longing. He can’t quite name what it is that he wants. He wants to be close to Yusuf. When Yusuf takes off his head scarf in the evening to wash, Nicolò has the inexplicable urge to bury his fingers in his hair and run them along the scruff of his beard. He wants to press his lips against the beating pulse at his throat. Wants to frame his face with his hands and just stare at him, unabashedly, take him in whole, from the crinkles around his eyes to the freckles on his nose.
And then… that’s where his imagination gets a little hazy, because Yusuf is so much. He’s like a fire that Nicolò is drawn to, seeking the comfort and tantalizing beauty of the dancing flames, but he doesn’t know what will happen if he gets closer. Will his skin crack and blister, will his bones turn to ash?
The idea of loosening Yusuf’s garments, of baring his body in full should not rob him of his breath. He has seen Yusuf naked. There is little privacy between travelling companions like them, but Nicolò has never truly allowed himself to look at him. To observe the strong build of Yusuf’s chest and arms, the vulnerable stretch of his stomach, smooth and without the visceral sight of guts and blood spilling out onto the dried up earth beneath. There are other places, soft and hidden, that Nicolò can’t stop thinking about. The inside of his thighs. The soles of his feet.
That night, they find lodging at a small inn, and after they’ve taken their evening meal and washed off the dust of the road, they retire to their room. They prepare for bed by the shine of a single candle, and Nicolò finds himself standing frozen, lungs empty and straining for breath at the sight of—
“Yusuf. I…”
Yusuf turns to him, and as he watches him, the frown on his face slowly morphs into a look of hope and yearning that Nicolò is sure must mirror his own.
Finally, Yusuf steps forward, and Nicolò feels a rush of relief so strong that for a moment he thinks he must be floating, yet with the first touch of Yusuf’s lips against his own, he is tethered again, if not to the earth than to the man in front of him.
Their embrace is nothing like Nicolò imagined. There’s nothing pitiful about it, nothing grubby or dirty or wrong. They come together not in greed but in wonder. And so there is no shame in Nicolò’s heart as they lie down on the single pallet, Yusuf above him, looking at him as if Nicolò is a miracle.
Yusuf has been with others before him, has once hesitantly inquired and implied until Nicolò felt his neck grow hot. But this, Nicolò knows, is as new to him as it is to Nicolò. A dance where none of them lead but both of them follow. That isn’t rushed, that happens slowly, because they are not driven by a desire for empty pleasure, but the joy of knowing each other completely, intimately, and being known in return.
Yusuf’s hands on Nicolòs skin are sure and gentle, not questing but affirming. He doesn’t ask Nicolò if he trusts him. Doesn’t need to. The trust they have is so deep it might only be possible if you have once held your lover in your arms as he took his last breath, his blood on your hands and his taste in your mouth. If you felt the ugliest of all emotions, because it means you know that too.
It’s love, Nicolò realizes, that changes everything, because Yusuf knows him from the marrow of his bones to the very bottom of his heart, but Nicolò knows Yusuf, too.
He kisses Yusuf, allows himself to touch him and hold him and look at him. There is no secret left now, just two souls laid bare for their other half to see.
Part of “Moments in Time” on Ao3
Hello! I am so happy you wanted more of this! You do not have to read the first part, this can be read as a standalone. But if you would like, here is the first one. Thank you @llap115 for being my beta and helping me with the title! <3333
————————————————————–
Draco checked the time before wincing a little. Minerva had sent a patronus asking him to come to her office. He had wracked his brain, trying to remember if they had a meeting set up, but they had one just last week. Perhaps it was about a student?
He was running a tad late. Not that it was entirely his fault. There had been a breakthrough on his experimental potion. Just a little more time and he would have been able to really get into it.
It wasn’t until he reached the corridor that he recognized a familiar mop of black hair.
“Potter! Fancy seeing you here. I could have sworn your horrendous abilities to function would have gotten you kicked out by now.”
“Oh please.” Harry countered. “You would cease to function if I wasn’t around to bother you.” He grinned widely, shaking his head as he paused to wait for Draco to catch up.
“Shh.” Draco teased, running his fingers through Harry’s hair when he noticed odd bits of glitter in it. “Don’t give away my secrets.” He paused to make sure all offending bits were disposed of. “What’s with the glitter?”
“Sean Finnigan-Thomas.” Harry explained shaking his head. “It would seem that he has picked up his father’s ability to blow things up. I can’t honestly tell where the glitter comes from. He was supposed to be doing a simple blocking spell.”
“You’d think that Dean’s genes would have mellowed the poor kid out.” Draco murmured, recalling the way Sean had caused his hiccupping solution last month to also blow up.
“Apparently not.” Harry shrugged once before he realized that Draco should still be working on his potion. “What are you doing out here?”
“Minerva asked to see me. Which I am running late for.” The last bit was whispered slowly. It wasn’t as if hurrying now would make him any less late. Might as well take his time.
That had Harry pausing. “She asked to see me too.”
They both shared a knowing look before groaning. “I’m going back to my lab.” Draco called out, only making it a few steps before strong arms wrapped around his stomach.
“I don’t think so.” Harry reprimanded firmly. “They are your sons too.”
Draco sagged into the embrace of his husband. “I don’t even want to know what they did. I just hope property damage wasn’t done this time.”
“They haven’t done anything awful in at least two months.” Harry wished that sounded better than it actually was. Their sons were a handful.
“Last week I caught Scorpius being suspicious. He was hiding in a bush near the black lake.” Draco pointed out, hoping to distract Harry enough that he could slip out of the hold.
Harry tightened his hold and smiled into Draco’s neck when he heard a disappointed sigh. “If that is the only suspicious thing we have to hold over him, then our children are saints.”
Draco snorted derisively. Teddy? Absolutely. Their eldest was definitely leading the chart on who would be getting better Christmas gifts. Albus and Scorpius? Hell no. Their twins were the furthest from saints. Sometimes he wondered if it was possible that his children were reincarnations of Fred and George. Can reincarnations exist with the original still in place?
When Harry straightened up, Draco reluctantly followed the man towards the Headmistress’ office. Unfortunately, he could trek the path blindfolded.
“How did your potion go? Any luck?” Asked Harry, hoping it would pull his lover into a long-winded discussion. He wanted zero room for the man to try and weasel out of going to the impromptu meeting.
“Oh!” Draco snapped his head towards Harry, eyes sparkling. “Yes. I was correcting my third years’ essays on why Powdered Root of Asphodel is the main ingredient in both the Draught of Living Death and Wiggenweld Potion. Especially considering how the potions contradict each other. It wasn’t until I noticed a mistake one of the students cited to a correlation to the Salamander blood, that I realized…”
—————————————————————————–
“Don’t say a word.” Albus whispered, using a fake yawn as a means to communicate to his brother. “She can’t prove our reasons behind it.”
Scorpius rolled his eyes. Honestly, his twin never knew when to call it quits. “There were witnesses.” He hissed when McGonagall began leafing through mail that had just been delivered by a Ministry owl.
“Our word against theirs.” Countered Albus, wishing his brother held more fighting spirit. The enemy couldn’t break them if they never gave up!
“You two are fucking idiots.” Teddy hissed, towering over them. “You are lucky I was patrolling and not Simmons. Do you know what she would have done if she had caught you?” He shot a look towards the Headmistress, glad that she was still distracted.
Albus and Scorpius rolled their eyes at their brother’s anger. Teddy being Head Boy was the only thing that truly saved them. They both knew it. But admitting it was another thing entirely.
“It’s not my fault Simmons has a bloody broom up her arse.” Albus dodged the smack Teddy aimed at his head.
“Aren’t you going to stop them?” A shrill voice had everyone in the room wincing. “They are no doubt conspiring together to come up with lies!”
Minerva sighed internally before glancing towards the substitute teacher for the month. “I am aware that they are conversing.” Her tone was bored, but her eyes were annoyed. “It is a lengthy wait for their parents. Should I condemn them to sit in silence?”
The way the woman nodded vehemently had Minerva wishing - not for the first time - that Neville had chosen someone else to be his replacement while he recovered from a bout of illness.
A chime had everyone but Minerva looking around expectantly, as if they thought something would happen.
“As it so happens, their parents have arrived.” She waved her wand, causing the door to open slowly.
Teddy was the first to spot his parents. He sighed somewhat ruefully while his brothers groaned loudly.
——————————————————————–
Harry couldn’t help it. By the time they reached the closed door, Draco’s hands were rapidly moving while his mouth was recanting a very in-depth account of things that Harry wouldn’t remember tomorrow. Every time his husband got passionate about his work, the blonde lit up in every way possible. It always had Harry falling just a little bit more in love with the man- which he thought would be impossible after so long.
When Draco took a deep breath, no doubt about to tell Harry about some obscure thought that his brilliant mind came up with, Harry leaned forward and captured the man’s lips.
Draco made a noise of surprise before he wrapped his arms around Harry’s neck and enthusiastically kissed back. He wasn’t entirely sure his lover had been paying attention to him anyways.
The sound of someone groaning had them pulling apart. At some point, the door had opened. Well, it wasn’t the worst position they could have been caught in. Not like the scandalous article the Daily Prophet printed about them in their youth. Draco still had The boy-who-fucked framed on the wall of their bedroom.
“I apologize for being late.” Draco began, tone nice in a way that didn’t fit him. “Got caught up.” He could see Teddy cover his mouth in an attempt to hide a snicker.
“I’m sure it was important.” Minerva responded dryly, offering them chairs.
Harry shook his head, preferring to stand. It was better to tower over his children, intimidation at its finest.
Small talk was never Draco’s forte. Nor was he going to explain his tardiness. “Was there a death? Explosion? Property damage? Anyone hurt?”
Teddy looked to the ceiling, not completely believing that this was his life. It was sad that his dad’s questions weren’t in jest either. Despite this, he couldn’t help but be amused.
“In my defense—” Albus was cut off by Scorpius placing a hand over his brother’s mouth. For all the scolding Albus had done earlier, he was going to give them away!
Draco narrowed his eyes, looking between his youngest in suspicion. Usually, the two of them would own up to their wrongdoings. They had a family rule. Lying was prohibited, at least to those in the family. As a parent, he could care less what the little buggers did that was wrong, just as long as they told him about it. He couldn’t form alibis for them without knowing details.
“Can you tell us what they are suspected of?” came Harry’s question as he shared a look with Draco. There was more at work here and he wasn’t sure he liked it.
“Suspected of?” The loud screech had Draco’s lip curling in disgust.
“Oh, Prudence. I didn’t see you there.” The polite tilt of Draco’s head might fool some, but Harry could see the annoyed tension in his husband. He entwined their fingers, not missing the way Miss Thatcher’s eyes narrowed. The old woman was a pain in his arse. He couldn’t wait for Neville to return.
“Mister Malfoy.” The woman’s tone wasn’t in the least bit polite, but Draco could care less. Part of him was hoping his children had messed with her, but the part that was horribly corrupted by Harry was steadily wishing the opposite. Damn his husband’s Gryffindor sensibilities.
“Malfoy-Potter but whatever.” Draco dismissed her with a wave of his hand, turning back to Minerva expectantly.
“Albus and Scorpius seemed to have caused an explosion in Greenhouse three. The left side of the building is decimated. None of the plants were harmed, but several of them have been moved to guarantee their survival.”
Draco had to hold in the urge to let out a low whistle. “Now, when you say decimated?” He trailed off suggestively.
“The building is completely unusable, and classes have been transferred to the library until Neville returns.”
The statement had Harry wanting to cover his face with his hands. For the life of him, he couldn’t come up with any explanation as to why his children would do something like this. Normally their stunts and horrible ideas weren’t as destructive.
“What caused the explosion?” asked Draco, trying to rationalize it all.
Minerva looked to the boys, gesturing for them to respond. She had not been informed of the cause. They only had the aftermath to observe.
“We had just come from potions.” Albus looked at McGonagall’s desk, knowing that he couldn’t look at his parents during this. Especially his dad. “And I guess we still had a little Armadillo Bile on our hands from making the Wit Sharpening potion.”
Draco’s brows rose in disbelief. Armadillo Bile was something that should never make skin contact. It was volatile if handled wrong.
“Today we were working near the Alihotsy.” Scorpius added in explanation. “We didn’t know what would happen if we touched it.”
That had Draco really letting out a low whistle this time. The Alihotsy is a plant with leaves that can induce mass hysteria and uncontrollable laughter. When combined with something as volatile as Armadillo Bile, the fumes released by the leaves would have been corrupted. An explosion was not out of the realm of possibilities.
Thatcher scoffed harshly, clearly not buying their explanation.
“Excuse us for a moment.” Harry told her kindly, gesturing for his kids to come with him to a corner of the office.
Draco created a silencing charm around them, one that he knew wouldn’t be broken quickly.
Scorpius shared a look with Albus, trying to silently ask for help.
“In my defense.” Albus raised a finger but paused when no one interrupted him. This was unusual. Typically, his family never let him use an excuse.
“Go on.” Draco drawled, folding his arms across his chest. “I don’t have all day.”
On his dad’s annoyance scale, Albus figured that he was safe for the moment. “In my defense, it was all Scorpius’ fault.”
Scorpius dropped his mouth open, turning to his brother quickly and smacking him on the arm. “What the hell?” This was not a part of the twin code. One does not just simply throw their sibling under!
Teddy, Harry and Draco shared a look. Out of the twins, it was nearly always Albus that was the ring leader. Scorpius just went along with the horrible ideas. It was strange for Scorpius to have been the one responsible.
“I’m suspicious.” muttered Teddy, eyes narrowing. Something else was going on here.
“So am I.” Harry agreed looking at Scorpius curiously.
“I want to know why you lied.” Draco demanded, looking at the both of them. “I remember your Wit Sharpening potion to come out flawlessly. Nor was there any Armadillo Bile on your person. Especially considering the medical liability of such an ingredient touching human flesh.”
Teddy leaned forward, hoping to see either of them flustered. This was turning out to be an interesting turn of events. Sure, his brothers got in trouble a lot, but it was never something of this magnitude. He was curious as to where this would go.
His dad’s statement had Scorpius wincing slightly, turning his eyes towards his brother.
“We may have thrown a vial of Armadillo Bile at the plant.” Albus admitted reluctantly when his father turned narrowed green eyes on him. Out of his parents, one would think that his dad would be scarier when upset but just a simple look from his father was enough to make his spine straighten.
“And why would you do that?” demanded Harry, not liking where this was going. “You both knew exactly what would happen and yet, you did it anyways.”
Albus pointedly looked at Scorpius, showing silently that he blamed his brother for this one.
The movement had Scorpius mentally setting a reminder to make his brother pay for such a traitorous action.
“Because Jameson was making fun of Smith for having two fathers! He’s a muggleborn and doesn’t quite understand that some muggle prejudice has no standing in the wizarding world.”
Draco froze before looking to his husband. It was obvious that Scorpius was upset. “Why didn’t Jameson make fun of you?” Not that he wanted that to happen. He just thought it was strange that the boy would only make fun of one student.
Albus snorted loudly. “No one messes with the children of Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy.”
A noise of affirmation caused Harry and Draco to turn to Teddy who smiled sheepishly. “It’s true. No one messes with us for fear of you two.” At first, Teddy used to be upset. Because it affected friendships too, but it was nice in the end. It was a secondhand power and that worked out nicely on those he didn’t care for.
“What does Smith being bullied have to do with ruining an entire greenhouse?” Harry wasn’t sure what to think. He knew firsthand from his uncle that misconceptions can happen in the muggle world. Jameson might not be tolerant of others, but he certainly didn’t deserve an explosion in retaliation.
“Thatcher wasn’t doing anything about it!” Scorpius explained, brows pinching and a frown forming. “She made snide comments about it, as if rewarding Jameson’s belief. You should have seen Charlotte’s face! It’s not okay for a teacher to do that!”
Teddy bit his lip to stop from smiling. “So you destroyed a building, caused an explosion and nearly caused bodily harm to others in your anger.”
Scorpius looked to the ground. “In hindsight, it might have been a bad idea.”
That had Harry rolling his eyes. “You can’t just explode things when someone else upsets you. I understand that you were angry on behalf of Charlotte, but next time, speak to us. Or go to Minerva.”
When their son nodded his head sadly, Draco looked to Albus. “And you, don’t just follow your brother. Have an original thought of your own for once. Also, don’t come to me when he retaliates for turning him in.”
Scorpius smirked widely, loving the way Albus’ eyes widened.
“But father.” Albus turned to Harry, eyes begging. “You’ll care, won’t you?”
Teddy had to cover his mouth to stop from laughing out loud.
It was hard to ignore grey eyes that were pleading with him, but Harry knew that Draco wasn’t going to punish anything Scorpius did in retaliation. “I can’t control Draco anymore than I can control you.”
Draco leaned over to kiss Harry on the cheek, wrapping his arms around his husband. He ignored the renewed groans at their public displays of affection.
“Oh Salazar.” Albus moaned pitifully. “No one loves me in this family.” He wanted to pout when they all laughed in delight, but that was beneath him. Malfoy-Potters don’t pout.
“I want to know how long you have been on a first name basis with Smith.” Teddy spoke up, smirking at the way Scorpius’ flushed brightly. Now he was getting somewhere.
“I’m not—It’s just—” Scorpius twisted his fingers into his robes nervously. “She’s really nice.”
“Smith?” Draco asked, nose crinkling at the remembrance of Zacharias Smith. “Merlin, I haven’t thought of her father in ages. He was a real prick.”
“Charlotte isn’t her father.”
The firm tone of their son had Harry’s mouth twitching. “Where have I heard that before?” He teased, watching Draco eye him softly.
“Alright.” Draco conceded, eyes still on his lover. “I will keep an open mind.” He snapped his gaze to his son in time to see Scorpius smiling happily. “It will probably be needed for when you get married.”
Albus barked out a laugh at the way his brother froze in embarrassment.
“Is this why you were in the bushes?” Harry asked recalling what Draco told him earlier. “Because I hope you are aware that stalking is punishable by the Wizengamot.”
Teddy leaned into his dad for support and laughed into his shoulder. Merlin, he loved his family.
A slight foot stomping was the only thing Scorpius was able to produce as his family laughed openly at his embarrassment. Albus was right. Where is the love?
“Can we get on with the punishment now?” Scorpius begged, hoping to distract them.
“Don’t think we won’t tease you later.” Draco warned before standing up straighter and dropping the charm.
Minerva eyed them in amusement. It shouldn’t surprise her after so many years of seeing their family, but every time she witnessed them together, she couldn’t help but smile internally. A lot of people had reservations about Harry and Draco getting together many moons ago, but it was all hogwash. One look at the happy family and it was clear that they were meant to be together.
“After going over the implications of the potion and the Armadillo Bile residue, I do believe it was an accident.” Draco began, shooting a look at his children. If they acted surprised, it would give it all away.
Harry didn’t bother to hide his smile. It was just like Draco to be a big sap underneath it all. Which would mean that he would, once again, be the only one punishing them.
Draco held up a hand when it looked like Thatcher was going to explode in outrage. “There was more than just what was mentioned that led to the accident.”
When Thatcher shifted her eyes away briefly, he knew that she understood the implication.
“If we could discuss those privately at another time.” Draco nodded his head towards his children and then towards Thatcher. “This should be handled internally.”
Minerva narrowed her eyes, disliking the lack of explanations being given. “Alright. I will call the three of you tomorrow afternoon for another meeting.”
A raised hand signaled their dismissal. Before anyone could utter a goodbye, Thatcher stormed out of the room, not even bothering to shut the door.
“What a lovely person.” Draco grumbled under his breath, holding on to Harry’s hand as they exited the office.
When Scorpius opened his mouth, Harry held up a hand.
“Oh, don’t even.” He warned. “Her bad behavior does not excuse yours.” Harry nodded his head in agreement when his son’s shoulders drooped. “The two of you will be helping in the rebuild of the Greenhouse.” He paused a little dramatically. “Without magic.”
“What?!” Albus and Scorpius yelled in unison, not caring that they were making a scene.
Teddy inched away from his family to allow the crowd of people to take him away. This was not going to turn into his younger brothers asking for help. No way. He may be the oldest, but that did not mean he had to be there to clean up their messes.
Draco narrowed his eyes, disliking the lack of decorum. He would never understand why his children liked to be the talk of the school. Episodes like this would travel. He took a step forward, lowering his voice.
“Just because you didn’t get punished by Minerva, does not mean that you are walking out of here free men.”
“How are we supposed to rebuild anything without magic?” Albus retorted, shaking his head angrily. They wouldn’t be in this mess if Scorpius wasn’t such a kind soul. It was despicable, really.
“We aren’t muggle builders.” The unnecessary reminder had Harry snorting internally. Sometimes, it was hard punishing them when all he wanted to do was laugh.
“Figure it out.”
When it looked like Albus was going to argue, Scorpius stepped on his foot discreetly. “Alright. We get it.” He ignored the outraged look on his brother’s face. Arguing would get them nowhere. He pulled on his brother’s hand and started a walk of shame towards the Great Hall, ignoring the gossiping students.
“Scorp, we know nothing about this. The greenhouse is going to look like a bloody wreck!” Their voices carried backwards and it improved Draco’s mood. He would love to see how they accomplish this.
“Probably.” Scorpius conceded. “But if we try hard, I just know father will cave and let us use magic.”
Draco smirked widely, leaning on Harry. “Hear that? You apparently have a weak spot.”
The teasing didn’t get to Harry, he rolled his eyes somewhat fondly. He knew that Scorpius was right, in the end, he probably would cave.
“Are you suddenly not fond of my weak spots?” Harry arched his brow, wrapping his arm around his husband. “Because I don’t remember any complaints when you became my weakness.”
“You should never admit to what can be used against you.” Draco chided, smiling softly.
“Oh Merlin.” Albus’ complaint reaching their ears. “Will they ever stop flirting? It’s downright embarrassing.”
Teddy nudged his brother’s shoulder, walking in step but pausing to look back at his parents. “I think it’s cute.”
Scorpius shook his head when Albus began a long-winded debate refuting Teddy’s statement. He himself, personally agreed with Teddy. He rather liked to find his parents’ love encouraging. It showed that two people, no matter how different they may be, can really be together.
“You know what is cute?” Albus asked, shaking his head. “That they think we will be what the school is gossiping about.” He gestured with his hands to where a group of second years were gossiping together.
“Oh, they are so cute together!”
“Did you see Professor Potter? He’s so handsome. Professor Malfoy is so lucky!”
“Really? I think it’s the other way around!”
“Ugh, they are both lucky!”
Teddy shook his head ruefully, not understanding the interest of people outside of the family. To him, they were just his parents. “I am more interested in this crush you have on Smith.”
The flush to Scorpius’ face had Teddy and Albus sharing a wicked grin.
“I have decided that I am an only sibling and I have no idea who you two strangers are.” Scorpius mumbled before sprinting forward, placing a wide berth between them.
“Don’t say that!” Teddy called out firmly. “How will we be invited to the wedding if we are strangers?” He bit his lip when Albus cackled loudly.
“You won’t.” There was a pause as Scorpius turned to smirk at them. “We will elope.” He didn’t feel like mentioning that Smith didn’t even know he existed. But that was just a mishap for now. A calculated mishap.
The look of absolute surprise on their faces was worth everything. Even the punishment.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
An Above the Rain and Roses Story
Summary: A few weeks after meeting for the second time, Bucky is treated by Steve to his very first romantic date ever.
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: N/A
Length: 17.2k words 1/1 chapters completed
Pairings: James “Bucky” Barnes/Steve Rogers
Sample:
“Yeah?!” Steve exclaims. “Great! So, then, I’ll pick you up at six? Does that work?”
“Oh.”
“Is that… okay?”
There’s probably no reason to ask the question floating through Bucky’s mind. It’s pretty ridiculous. But he just has to. Once it’s in there, he just needs to know for sure.
“Yeah, it’s just… you’re not gonna…” He sighs. Shakes his head. “It’s not a cop car, right?”
Steve bursts out laughing and goes on laughing so long that Bucky huffs and switches the phone from one ear to the other.
“Is that a no, then?” Bucky asks when he suspects Steve is finally getting control of himself. “But by all means, if you’re not done…”
“I’m sorry,” Steve says, though there’s definitely humor still there. “I just… why that even cross your mind?”
“I don’t… I don’t know!” There’s a whine in Bucky’s voice. “We live in Brooklyn! Who drives in Brooklyn?”
“Lots of people drive in Brooklyn.”
Standing and strolling to the window, Bucky shakes his head with a roll of his eyes. Steve fucking Rogers. Does he do anything normal?
“Weirdos drive in Brooklyn,” Bucky says. “Why would you pay for a car and insurance when you can just take the subway? Or an Uber?”
“I’m just paying insurance,” Steve gloats. “I paid my ride off a year ago.”
At the window, tracing a smiley face into the fog of his breath on the glass, Bucky snorts.
“Jesus,” he mumbles through grin. “There was never a time you could pull that off.”
“No?”
“Nope.” Bucky hops back onto his bed. “But fine, keep bein’ a weirdo, weirdo. You pull that one off.”
Steve scoffs. “You are a handful. So, are we set then? Friday? Six? I can pick you up?”
Sure, except everything about this feels backwards. They don’t have any contracts in the works, but Steve is still the Dom. Even when Bucky goes out with Natasha he defers more to her.It’s just an instinct. A biological response to Dominance. Sometimes even physical reactions to certain tones and looks. With a trusted Dominant it’s only natural. It’s completely Bucky’s choice whether or not to listen.
“Yes, Sir,” Bucky says. “That… works.”
Steve’s quiet for just a second before telling someone he’ll be off in just a second. Despite the strangeness of all this, Bucky still pouts. He doesn’t want to get off the phone.
“You don’t have to call me Sir, Buck,” Steve tells him when he’s back again. “I’m not your Dom. And we’re not in a scene.”
Cold washes over Bucky. Silly, really. They’ve made it perfectly clear that they’re not in a relationship. That they’re taking things slow to see how -- or even if -- they should proceed. What they want. Where they’d like to see things head.Something about Steve saying he’s not Bucky’s Dom aloud though… he just doesn’t like it. And since everything else is new and different, he figures he can go for something new and different himself.
“What if I wanna call you Sir?”
He holds his breath as he waits for an answer, which takes a second or two since his question might surprise Steve.
“Uh.” He breathes a chuckle. “Then call me Sir, I guess. Whatever makes you comfortable.”
Another smile pulls up on Bucky’s smile. Where the hell did this guy come from?
“I gotta go,” Steve says. “But I’ll see you Friday.”
This can be read as a standalone, but the first part can be found here If you are interested in reading this with both parts combined, that can be found on my Ao3, I just posted it.This is a 6k word part, so keep that in mind when reading on Tumblr. There are some vague graphic depictions of violence. I dedicate this to @rmh8402 @staganddragon and @dewitty1 These three really wanted more of this. Hopefully you all enjoy!
------------------------------------
“Did you hear about the war in Hell?” Zacharias’ grating tone had Remus rolling his eyes. The young angel was a pompous moron—why Flitwick put him in his garrison was beyond him.
“You call that gossip?” Parvati argued, wings flapping in annoyance. “I could have told you about the war weeks ago.”
If it wasn’t for his flock being over a millennium old, Remus would think they were just fledglings.
When Zacharias smirked, Remus knew this wouldn’t be good. “But did you know that Dumbledore was killed?”
A few gasps could be heard, but Remus ignored those. He just wanted to know where the other angel heard that. His superiors hadn’t announced the outcome of the war just yet and they demanded that the lower angels were to be in the dark until they had more information.
“Which group finally did it?” Seamus called out, breaking his meditation enough that an explosion ignited from his fingertips. “Damnit, not again.”
Zacharias spread out his wings in a dramatic flourish. “Riddle and Potter’s regiment combined forces to take him out.”
Remus hummed thoughtfully. Whoever was Zacharias’ source, they were good. That had been restricted information. He should probably force the idiot to keep his mouth shut, but he was getting fed up with the higher-ups and the way Heaven was being governed.
“So hell is being comanaged?” The heavy inflections of doubt in Parvati’s question was amusing. Remus had gone through the same line of thinking himself. Demons aren’t one for getting along. It was unwise to believe a pact would last long.
“It would have been, if Potter’s regiment hadn’t killed Riddle’s entire squadron afterward,” Zacharias smirked when mouths dropped open.
An uneasy feeling was beginning to pool in the pit of Remus’ stomach. Riddle had been around far longer than Remus. The man had been brutal, cruel and deadly. Potter was just as deadly, but lacked the power it would have taken to get rid of Dumbledore and Riddle. Something was changing in the underworld, and Remus wasn’t sure Heaven could withstand it.
“I think you are making it up,” argued Seamus, casting fire on purpose now.
Zacharias glowered angrily before crossing his arms as his wings twitched in annoyance. “I’m not lying. I heard it from a reliable source.”
“Then explain how Potter’s regiment managed to get rid of Riddle?” Parvati demanded, hand rising to flick her hair over her shoulders. “Dumbledore and Riddle fought for many millennia. Long before we ever came to be. You are telling me that Potter—a demon barely older than us—managed to get rid of two archdemons. I don’t buy it.”
Remus faced Zacharias, curious to see if this would be where he would give up his sources. There was a wicked gleam in the younger angel’s eyes and it had his interest piqued.
“No,” Remus rolled his eyes at the dramatic pause before Zacharias continued. “Potter’s power wasn’t what won him the war. His mate helped.”
That had Remus freezing. An angel mate? An angel helped win a war in Hell?
“His demon mate.”
This time when an explosion went off, Seamus wasn’t even paying attention. His eyes were riveted to Zacharias and a horrified expression crossed his features.
“What?” Remus whispered, voice betraying his confident stance and barreling the entire room into a panic.
Never in his entire existence had there ever been demon mates. Never. That kind of imbalance could crumble everything. If this was true, no wonder Riddle and Dumbledore fell. Two demons combining powers on a level that is unparalleled would shake the foundation of the world.
If Potter and his mate took control of Hell, then the next logical step would be overthrowing Heaven. Why were the higher ups doing nothing? What were they going to do? And why did no one seem fit to explain any of this?
Comforting his flock would have to wait. Without a parting glance or single word uttered, Remus flew out of the room.
He needed answers. Now.
--------------------------------------------
The sounds of begging, whimpering and pleading was exactly what Harry needed to hear. The destruction of the latest battle was welcoming. The bodies littered on the ground were of the opposing side and not a single of his own demons had been harmed.
“What should we do with the survivors?”
Harry spun around angrily, wanting to see the face of whoever dared to interrupt his musings.
His regiment stood straight, no one meeting his eyes. Before he could demand an answer, a slight tsk could be heard.
“Now, now Creevey, that’s a stupid question,” came the airy voice of his second in command. The sound of a knife unsheathing reverberated around the clearing.
Harry watched the knife strike one of Riddle’s men right through the center of the forehead.
“What survivors?” The question was voiced in a mocking tone as his second in command stopped in front of Creevey. “As far as I am aware, your job isn’t done until they are dead.”
There was a scrambling as they all rushed to be the ones to finish off the last of Riddle’s men.
“Lovegood, if you were anyone else, I would have killed you,” Harry reminded her. Such bold behavior wasn’t tolerated among his ranks.
Lovegood’s eyes stared up at the desolate sky as she began humming an unrecognizable tune—probably something mortal. “We both know you wouldn’t have let them survive. I know you, Potter.”
They both knew the truth. Despite this, Harry glared at her anyway. He knew it would do nothing, Lovegood feared no one.
“The air is changing.”
The cryptic statement was unfortunately normal when dealing with her. Harry arched his brows, waiting impatiently for Lovegood to offer more. When several minutes passed and the only sounds audible were the deaths of Riddle’s men, Harry growled. “Lovegood.”
Lovegood smiled as softly as a demon could, eyes still staring at something Harry wasn’t sure was even there. “The power your union brings will grant you what you seek, but you need unwavering support of the fallen to maintain such an atmosphere.”
The implications that Harry would need more than Draco’s support wasn’t welcome. He knew demanding more information would grant him nothing in return. Lovegood wasn’t clear on where her information came from, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to know either.
Harry sighed heavily, watching his regiment celebrate a successful battle by bathing in the blood of the recently departed. Such a site would normally lift his spirits, but the unknown of Lovegood’s prediction was enough to send him in the opposite direction.
A second opinion was needed. Preferably Draco’s. He missed the pretentious prick—and Satan knows what his mate was getting into without him.
--------------------------------------------
In hindsight, storming a gathering of several generals was a bad idea. If Remus had been less concerned, he would have reconsidered barging in as if he belonged.
“Remus,” Fudge began slowly with narrowed eyes. “Do I need to remind you of your place? We are having a heavenly conclave.”
That normally would have had him contrite and stammering out apologies, but the knowledge of demon mates was enough to have his bravery flooding forward.
“Is it true? There are demon mates taking over Hell?”
A few intakes of breath could be heard, but Remus tuned them out—his eyes were narrowed on Fudge.
“Remus, where are you getting your information from?” Scrimgeour’s voice barked out loud and booming.
The question was meant to fluster or stall him, but Remus wasn’t going to fall for it. They may be generals, but they haven’t seen a battle in centuries. He wasn’t going to succumb to their stupidity.
“I was told to ready my garrison, that skirmishes could make it to earth.” Breathing calmly was something that was evading him. Sirius used to be his anchor when it came to controlling himself. But his mate wasn’t here, wasn’t ever going to come back.
“Skirmishes are nothing compared to the bloodshed that will arise if demon mates make it to the gates of Heaven. Downplaying the danger will get us killed.” He glared heavily when Fudge broke eye contact.
“Of course nothing will happen to any of you.” Remus knew he should have stopped right there, but the anger in his veins was pumping far more than his blood. “Since you sit on your hind and order us to the death.”
A booming sound of thunder rattled the room and Remus winced internally. The sound of cackling laughter filled the air—the sound alone making him regret every single life choice that led up to this.
“My my, the little runt thinks he can play in the big league.” The sound of Bellatrix’s voice was nearly nauseating. The angel was a few feathers away from being as vicious as a demon. Her being the mate of Riddle clearly resulted in her cruel behavior. He wondered if she would mourn the demon. Not that they ever had an actual union. Most mates only tolerate the title and continue without solidifying anything.
Remus knew that she had the power and capability to send him to isolation, so he said nothing as she approached.
“A good angel follows their orders without question, listens to their superiors despite no information provided. You are not a good angel,” It was sneered at him as if this was an insult. These days Remus wasn’t sure what was moral any more. Perhaps he didn’t want to be an angel any longer.
Verbal defiance would be a bad idea, but Remus wasn’t going to do nothing. He lifted his nose into the air and looked away from her outraged expression.
“I can see it,” Bellatrix whispered taking a step forward. “I see Sirius in your actions.”
Remus couldn’t stop the pain from contorting his face—the sound of her cruel laughter reverberated around the room in an echo that had him clenching his fists tightly.
“Not over his death, are you?” The false sympathy in her tone was expected. “I would say I can relate, but I never cared for my mate.” Mourning would be out of the question then.
“Sirius was brash, defiant and a constant pain in my side.” Remus was rather proud of that. Sirius was one of the best angels he had ever met. When it had been discovered that they were the first angel mates in history, Remus had been overjoyed. They could do so much good in the world with their powers.
Only… it raised them both as a target. Sirius had been the casualty of an attack from Hell.
“Sirius was a better angel than you ever will be,” Remus spat out, knowing this would lead to major repercussions. Bellatrix was an archangel and held command over most of the garrisons. If she wanted him punished, he would be—without question.
An odd purring came from his superior and it had Remus bracing himself for something. “One would think that angel mates would be powerful, but separated from Sirius, you are nothing.”
The insult didn’t hurt. Remus had long ago come to the same realization. His spirit was only half what it was supposed to be. When Sirius died, he took a part of Remus with him, a piece that he will never get back. Each day is hard enough but the daunting twelve centuries he has been without his mate was almost too much.
“That kind of power in the wrong hands is deadly.”
That had Remus freezing as a shift in the atmosphere caused the other angels in the room to become restless.
“Especially in the unworthy.” There was something dangerous in her eyes. Remus wasn’t sure what this had to do with his own insubordination. “Sirius didn’t suspect a thing.”
Remus’ wings snapped out, fluttering widely. It was against several codes of honor to display wings at another angel in a negative manner. Flashes of memories began pouring into his mind. Sirius’ confusion when he was called to be on the frontlines of a demon invasion. If it had been truly dire, other garrisons would have been called out too. At the time, Remus figured it was just a misunderstanding somewhere. But now it was making sense.
“You sent him into an invasion with no backup!” His voice cracked at the thought that his own kind would’ve done this. And for what? “One angel against an entire legion of demon warriors! You wanted his death out of fear of what we could have been together.”
Bellatrix’s wings were larger than his own and more intimidating, but Remus was too far gone to care. “The two of you could have taken over control of Heaven.”
The logic was not only true but also completely unfounded. “But we wouldn’t have.” An arched brow and another sneer had him barely containing his rage.
“Do you think Heaven would function if things were left up to chance?” Bellatrix mocked with a sadistic laugh. “Order is the only province we can have. Chaos is detrimental to our survival. The two of you were a liability. Something had to give.”
Despite the danger he was in, Remus closed his eyes in agony. Sirius was loyal to a tee and would never have harmed another angel. Never. The thought that an archangel would do such a thing was unforgivable.
Strategy was always something he was good at—one of the reasons he made it to a garrison commander in the first place. Typically, options would be something he would consider, but at this point there was nothing. He couldn’t stay and here and be under the thumb of any of the angels. Especially Bellatrix.
In the back of his mind, Remus could hear Bellatrix taunting him, but he tuned her out as he allowed his wings to lift him in the air. Every ounce of power he possessed went into lashing out downwards. He could feel the angels below him, feel their emotions and could even pinpoint where they were located. Remus pushed past that and continued down onto earth. The pull of billions of people was strong, but not worth stopping for.
“What is he doing?” Fudge yelled, causing Bellatrix to stop mid-rant. Her eyes widened as she felt his connection to Heaven fading.
The feel of all those inside Hell was almost enough to make him weep. The human souls banished to the underworld were in desolate anguish. A pain of their own doing. Demons were everywhere, but that was precisely what he wanted. He allowed the lure of their power to pull him in.
“No!” Bellatrix yelled, taking a lunge for Remus.
The pain of losing his wings was unlike anything he had ever experienced. It was losing a limb, one he had treasured all of his life. The only thing that kept him stable was the righteous anger at the betrayal. Sirius is what kept him going. His mate would be horrified at his choice, but Sirius wasn’t here.
Remus snapped his eyes open, taking in his new abilities in interest. A growl left his mouth at the sight of Bellatrix lunging at him. He sidestepped the movement and dodged several angels as they attempted to contain him.
“Enough!” Remus bellowed, taking a step back. “What transpired here is nothing but your own doing. You worried about my powers with Sirius, well worry about them now as a fallen.” The transformation was beginning to take place; the pain of his anatomy changing to that of a demon was stronger than expected.
Before Bellatrix could respond Remus gave one parting message before falling straight to Hell.
“The next time we see each other, I will kill you.”
--------------------------------------------
As Draco walked the confines of the prison, he couldn’t help but wonder why Dumbledore had ever bothered. What was the point of keeping prisoners? Kill them all and be done with it. Had the man thought they could change their ways? The thought alone had a harsh sneer forming.
Lower demons were caged, bound and barely conscious. At least the atmosphere was pleasant. A few called out to him in cries of pleading desperation—not that he cared for that. If they couldn’t handle punishment in silence, then they weren’t worth his time or attention.
Draco looked over his shoulder and called for Weasley, his second in command. “Kill them.”
When she grinned in delight, he rolled his eyes. “I’m only doing this to keep morale high after the battles.”
“Since when do you care about morale?” She argued, hands already reaching for her daggers.
His patience was wearing thin. “Either kill them or I will.” Draco knew she wouldn’t pass up a chance to kill for no reason, so he left her to it and continued down the cages.
The sight of blinding white wings had Draco freezing for just a moment as he turned a corner.
“No way.”
Killing angels was a rite of passage, capturing one however was nearly impossible. Angels fight to the death and never waver in their annoyingly self-righteous attitude. To think that Dumbledore had captured an angel and said nothing was nearly unbelievable. If the knowledge of a captured angel had been even rumored, it would have tipped the scales of the war in the dead demon’s favor. Dumbledore could have amassed legions of demons wanting to be on the same side as someone powerful enough to take an angel alive.
Defiant pale grey eyes narrowed as Draco approached. Angels were hard to differentiate, mainly because they never take pride in their names and choose to function in unity—just another reason angels were incredibly stupid.
“Well, who might you be?”
When the angel said nothing and only lifted his nose into the air, Draco smirked maliciously. Oh, this would be fun.
Wings twitched in response to his question and Draco just knew that the angel was itching for a fight.
“Fuck you,” The angel spat out as his chains clanged against the stone wall.
“Feisty for an angel,” Draco mocked, taking enjoyment from the anger permeating the air. “Do you kiss God with a mouth like that?”
The sound of the chains clanging increased as the angel pushed against the restraints. The sight had Draco laughing in delight.
Thoughts on what to do with the angel were circulating around his mind. Killing a captured angel would be no fun. Draco figured he would talk to Harry about it first, see what his mate thought of this.
As Draco went to leave, his eyes caught sight of something curious. Or rather the lack of something had him pausing. Angel anatomy was very different than that of a demon, at least internally, but what they had in common was the power thread of a mate. It was easy to spot whether an angel or demon had gone through a matching. This angel had the tell of a mate, only instead of it showing a demon mate, it was something else.
Draco furrowed his brows as he stared at the thread. It wasn’t familiar at all, nor had he seen it on anyone else. In a way, it reminded him of the thread of power that linked him to Harry.
Realization struck, and it had Draco taking a step back. “You have an angel mate.” He had never stopped to consider that there would be a counterpart to his union with Harry. They were the first paired demon mates to ever exist, and Draco was horrified that he never stopped to wonder if there were paired angel mates. This changed everything. No wonder Dumbledore imprisoned the angel.
“Weasley! Find me Potter now!”
--------------------------------------------
The air was morphing into something that hadn’t been felt in many millennia. Several demons raised their hands in the air and welcomed the energy that was brimming. New blood was entering their ranks and it was a cause for celebration.
Luna inhaled deeply, relishing in the power of the fallen as she locked eyes on the gates. It wouldn’t be long. Soon, they would have a fallen angel amongst their midst. It would seem that Zacharias was good for something.
The angels wouldn’t stand a chance, let alone mere mortals.
--------------------------------------------
Harry waved away Weasley as he made his way towards the prison. Knowing Draco, he was surprised the structure was still standing. What was the point of keeping any prisoners alive? What possible use could they have?
As he passed open cages with dead demons spilling outward, things began making more sense. This was more like Draco.
When Harry rounded the corner, he noticed the stiff posture of his mate and it had him tensing for a threat. Anything that could make Draco stiff was a bad sign.
“Riddle’s men are dead. We lost no casualties.”
Despite the good news, Draco was barely listening, all of his attention was focused on the prisoner.
The lack of response had Harry arching a brow as he approached his mate. One look into the cage had a low whistle escaping.
Harry had seen many angels in his existence. Most of the time it was just for a few moments as he took away their life force. Seeing one imprisoned? That was new. It was unheard of to capture an angel. That alone had him suspicious. Dumbledore hadn’t really been the kind to capture anyone at all, demon or angel.
“He has an angel mate.”
The words took Harry’s breath away. Oh no. That was not what they needed. Not now. Not when they were finally making headway. Dumbledore and Riddle were dead. Battle strategies to take over Heaven were already underway. If there were angel mates out there, then this was going to ruin everything.
Draco watched Harry try and compartmentalize this in amusement. He wondered if this is what he looked like. He turned his attention towards the angel and took in the horrified expression.
“You are mates.”
Harry snorted derisively, the angel wasn’t the brightest. “That we are.” He allowed a malicious smirk to form and took pleasure in the flinch the angel released.
“We could kill him,” Harry offered turning to Draco, knowing the decision would most likely be up to his mate.
Draco ran a finger down Harry’s chest, loving the way green eyes darkened. “What fun would that be? He’s our counterpart, surely that means we can mess with him some. Plus, imagine what his precious mate would say when we storm the gates of Heaven and regale them all of his fate.
Harry would give Draco anything. If his mate wanted to torture the angel, then he would just watch from the sidelines.
As Harry nodded his head and let Draco know to begin, a strong pull had them both freezing.
With Dumbledore and Riddle out of the way, Harry and Draco now had control over Hell. The power of souls entering the underworld was at their grasp. Only, this wasn’t that.
Harry spread his arms wide, closing his eyes when he felt the power of a soul unlike any other.
“Mmm,” Draco felt his eyes go half-lidded as the only explanation for such a power became clear. “We have a fallen angel approaching.”
A gasp could be heard from their prisoner, but that wasn’t unexpected. There hadn’t been a fallen angel since Lucifer. This would truly decide the fate of Heaven.
Harry backed away quickly, allowing plenty of room between him and the cages. The fallen angel would feel the lure of his and Draco’s power as they fell, leading them directly here.
“An angel and a fallen angel in one day, what more could we want?” Draco clapped his hands together in excitement. Being co-sire of Hell was already more than he could have ever imagined.
--------------------------------------------
The force of the fall slammed Remus into the ground, but he couldn’t bring himself to get up. The pain of his body morphing was too much. His bones elongated in some areas while they shrunk drastically in others. The agony of his missing wings was more emotional than physical and that alone was enough to have him wanting to weep.
This wasn’t what he thought his life would be like. All he had ever wanted was to be a good angel. Following orders was easy and he had been good at it. Until Sirius came along. His mate had been the best thing to ever happen to him. Despite Sirius being defiant, brash and a rule breaker, Remus couldn’t help but love him. His mate had been the definition of pure chaos, but that was what enthralled him so much to begin with.
Without Sirius, Remus had been barely functioning. The only thing that had kept him afloat was the memory of his mate. But with the knowledge of Sirius’ death being orchestrated, he couldn’t handle it. Couldn’t handle anything. If the demons didn’t want him, then he would allow them to take his life. Heaven wasn’t worth living for—he just hoped Hell would give him the solace and peace needed to survive.
And wasn’t that just a scary thought?
--------------------------------------------
Draco circled the fallen angel appraisingly. “Good build, decent bone structure, muscles need work, but his power is strong. Far stronger than the weaklings some demons try to pass off as.”
Harry loved watching Draco get like this. It was enticing to have such an intelligent and keen mate. “Do you think he could be trained?”
The question had Draco narrowing his eyes in concentration. “Hard to determine. The reason he fell will matter. We can only do so much emotional manipulation; if he holds strong feelings of kinship with the other angels, then he will be of no use to us.”
Harry cocked his head to the side when his mate continued to be fascinated with the new demon. “If he ends up being of no use, his life will be forfeit.”
That had Draco frowning heavily. “A fallen angel hasn’t been seen in our lifetime. We aren’t going to kill him.”
“I won’t have him being a hindrance to our plans,” Harry informed Draco, arms folding firmly. “We didn’t work this hard to have a fallen ruin it all.”
The tone had Draco growling, claws extending outward as his wings lifted upwards. “We rule Hell together. What happens here on out will be decided by the both of us. Don’t tell me what to do.” The downfall of two demons together would always be how similar they were to each other. Draco knew that going in, and arguments were to be expected.
Harry narrowed his eyes, not afraid of Draco’s power or the threat in his tone. He pulled on his mate till they were pressed together, allowing the claws to sink into his back. The pain was grounding and far more pleasurable than verbal fights.
“Draco,” The whisper was so soft, Harry knew no one else would hear it. “We can’t be blind sighted by new power. If he becomes an issue, then we have to take care of him.”
Draco hated the way the utterance of his name had him relaxing into the hold. He allowed his claws to retract, smirking at the gasp Harry released. “I won’t let him become a hindrance.”
Harry searched Draco’s eyes before nodding. “I trust you.”
Trust was for the weak. They both knew it. Trust would always be the downfall of the unintelligent. Demons don’t believe in trust, it wasn’t something that would be sensible. But Draco trusted Harry with his life. Not only because they were mates, but because of the kind of demon Harry was.
Draco didn’t repeat the sentiment, knowing that Harry didn’t need to hear that the trust was mutual. He chose to run his nails along the wounds in his mate’s back, relishing in the way Harry shuddered.
“For some reason, I expected fights between demons to be more… explosive… than this. Anticlimactic actually.”
A loud gasp drew their attention to the fallen angel.
--------------------------------------------
Remus forced his body up when he the heard the sound of his mate.
“Sirius.”
The sight of Sirius chained up against a wall and behind a cage was barely a blip in his mind as he tried to come to the reality that his mate was alive. “They said you died.”
Draco wrapped an arm around Harry’s waist before whispering, “Things just got more interesting.”
“Remus.” The anguish in the angel’s voice was amusing to Harry. It was a personal torture, something neither Draco or he could have provided. “What did you do?”
“Bellatrix set up the ambush that got you here!” Remus knew he was shouting but he couldn’t help it. Not when he had been living the past 12 centuries thinking his mate was dead. “I mourned you.”
There was a crack in Remus’ voice and it had Draco sneering. That would have to go. Demons don’t succumb to emotions.
Harry couldn’t help a small growl escape at the name of the archangel. Bellatrix and her squadron of complete idiots had been a pain in his side for centuries. The angel never sullied herself to actually fight, choosing to send her underlings instead. One of these days he was going to kill the bitch.
“You fell, Moony.” Sirius looked close to crying, but Remus couldn’t change his choices. What was done was done. “Bellatrix’s betrayal is not up to you to avenge. She will answer to God in the end. Her sins will not excuse your own.”
The spiel of morality and the mantra of good was honestly nauseating. Remus couldn’t take it. He clenched his fists tightly as power exploded outwards, blasting the cages open.
“I am sick and tired of being told what is right and wrong! Angels are ordered around as mindless followers with no thought. Humans get free will, but not us? Why must I be restricted? Every time an order demands me on the frontlines, I get no choice in the matter. Why must my life be seen as a means to an end? Every time an order commands me to go against God’s original wishes, I get no choice in the matter.”
The power building up inside the fallen angel had Harry and Draco taking several steps away. It would seem that kinship wouldn’t be a problem. The fallen held heaping amounts of pent-up rage—which would be the best weapon in getting him to do their bidding.
Remus couldn’t bear to open his eyes and see disgust on Sirius’ face. “Archangels forget that their position was not one of power, but one to guide the rest of us forward. The love that used to run Heaven has fallen. You judge me off of standards that Heaven has forsaken. I don’t want to be a part of a Heaven that conspires to get rid of its own kind. I don’t want to be a part of a Heaven that doesn’t care for all angels equally. I don’t want to be a part of Heaven at all.”
A distressed noise had Remus opening his lids, watching the tears build in Sirius’ eyes. “I love you, Sirius. I have loved you long before we were paired together as mates. I loved you during every single moment we had together. And I loved you long after you were declared dead.” He watched the tears fall down the angel’s cheeks and Remus had to look away for a moment.
“But you took every good piece of me when you left. It was as if every single positive thing in my life related to you. I realized how codependent I had become. Only instead of fixing that and learning how to exist without you, I flopped. What did structured order and fighting the inevitable even matter? What good am I to Heaven when the hole of your absence was stronger than my own presence?”
Harry nuzzled the side of Draco’s cheek. “Angels are disgustingly emotional.” Love. What a weakness.
Draco purred as the scent of his mate meshed with his own. “Completely irrational. Never did understand the concept of love. How it tames thoughts and bends the will of the strong.”
Remus ignored the demons behind him and focused on the confusion on Sirius’ face. “I have lived 12 centuries without you. 12 centuries of becoming a completely different person than I once was. The blind faith that Heaven expected of me quickly vanished. I questioned my orders and thrived to think for myself. Only Heaven doesn’t want that. They don’t want free will or for us to think at all. I can’t be what I once was.”
Sirius shook his head rapidly “But falling? Surely there was another way? You have damned yourself to Hell. A fate worse than death.”
Draco scowled. “Excuse you, we do live here, you know.”
Despite himself, Remus snorted. “Heaven will fall. Demon mates have already taken over Hell. Heaven isn’t telling the angels anything, the higherups are guarding their secrets. It’s not only doomed for failure, but Heaven doesn’t care. I would rather die than be apart of that. If you are going to have a belief in morality—fine—just make sure you update your facts before dismissing me.”
Remus balled his fists and turned around, not wanting to see his mate in this manner.
“Remus—I don’t—I can’t—I don’t know what to think,” whispered Sirius, voice so quiet Harry and Draco had to lean forward in order to eavesdrop. “I’ve spent so long imagining what would happen if I could get out of here. The normalcy of the Heaven I left is the only version that makes sense. If Heaven isn’t what it used to be, then there is no hope. I need hope.”
Before Remus could really begin to respond, he was interrupted.
“It matters naught what you think,” Harry taunted. “You are nothing but a prisoner of Hell.” He had been worried about what would happen if the angel’s mate found out about the circumstances, but this was better than he could have expected.
“Fallen, you are welcome to visit your mate at any point during your stay in hell.” Harry watched the way Remus finally gave them the attention that should have been there to begin with. When the newly turned demon’s eyes widened, it was clear that their power had been recognized.
“However,” Draco took over, glaring at Remus. “You will be bound to servitude until we see fit to release you.”
Remus hummed in confusion. “Why? I am of no threat to you.”
“That hasn’t been decided,” Harry pointed out. “Although, that isn’t what Malfoy meant. You will be bound to servitude because we feel like it.”
“I don’t have to listen to you.”
Draco’s wings snapped outward with a harsh slap against the wall. “That is where you are mistaken. Not only will you listen to us because we are the rightful commanders of Hell, but because you made a fatal mistake.”
Harry watched the confusion on Remus’ face and it wasn’t until guilt crossed Sirius’ face that he knew the prisoner understood.
“Remus,” Harry and Draco said in unison, allowing their power to smother the demons. “First thing you learn in Hell is that names hold power. A power that we now control.”
Remus closed his eyes and submitted willingly. He held no free will in Heaven, what would a lack of free will as a demon really change?
“What do you want of me?”
When both demons grinned, Remus knew that his life would become a series of disasters.
--------------------------------------------
“So what does God look like?”
Lovegood smacked the back of Creevey’s head hard enough that the lower level demon made contact with the conference table.
Remus shook his head, trying not to find them amusing. “I don’t know, I never met God.”
When several demons looked at him incredulously, he shrugged. “I imagine it’s the same as Lucifer. Have you ever met him?”
Creevey shifted in his seat and sighed in disappointment. “No. There hasn’t been a sighting of Lucifer since the beginning of our creation.”
Remus lifted his hands, gesturing that it had been the same for him.
“What if there is no God or Lucifer?” Brown asked with a scandalized gasp.
“Quit your conspiracy theories or I will slit your throat.” The sound of one of their leaders had everyone sitting up straighter.
Harry made his way towards one of the chairs at the head of the table. “If one of you doesn’t give me good news, I will kill the first one who stands up at the end of the meeting.”
There was a scramble as several demons tried to deliver reports of their assigned tasks.
Remus cleared his throat, smirking internally as a few demons glowered at him. “I found a reliable source that can provide updated battle strategies of the angels.” It would appear that Zacharias was a spineless git and buckled under the slightest bit of pressure.
“Now that is good news.” The praise had more demons glaring at Remus, but he ignored them completely. It wasn’t his fault they were incompetent.
Harry placed his hands under his chin. “Before we get into what Fallen has discovered, I would like to introduce a new demon to our ranks.”
Whispers broke out, a few bringing up the power that was felt earlier in the week. Some questioning whether it was a human turned demon, or perhaps something else.
The door to the room flew open, causing all heads to turn towards the entrance.
Harry nodded his head towards his mate, watching Draco lead in their new demon. “Everyone, this is Black. Another fallen angel.”
Here's an AU scenario for this, which is in turn based on this!
Hope you like it!
**
Sometimes, she wakes up in the morning and her door is slightly ajar, and through the little sliver of light she can see him watching her. He’s gone before she can rub the sleep from her eyes.
Sometimes, she stands in front of the bedroom mirror and stares at her face, hating it. She’s always been told that she has her father’s eyes and her mother’s face, and that she’s so beautiful for it. The people who tell her are the people who knew her mother best, and they always look ready to cry when they tell her. She hates them for that.
Sometimes, she tries to talk to her father, ask him a question, make him go to bed because it’s not healthy to stay up all night no matter who or what you are. He gets this funny look in his eyes as he stares at her face. He doesn’t hear what she’s saying, and he doesn’t see anything except a face that’s not even hers in his mind.
Sometimes, she tells herself that she doesn’t care. He’s an ageless man who’s spent his life surrounded by ageless people. He isn’t used to loss; it’s not supposed to happen to him. He was never supposed to love a mortal woman, but he did. She is the result, and she is the reason it ended. The one time she burst into tears and spilled her sorry heart, it was to her Uncle. He shook her by the shoulders and begged her to never say such poison again. It was a lie, he said. A lie from the pits of Helheim, never believe it for a moment.
Your mother died so you could live, he said. It was her love for you that kept breath in your lungs when we all thought you were lost. Do not ever blame yourself for that. You have no guilt in being alive.
Sometimes, she almost believes him.
Sometimes, she prays for the day when she no longer cares. She will wake up and see him there with his eyes shining before he moves away and pretends it never happened, and it will mean nothing to her. Her heart will become as cold as the ice that killed her mother, and she could look her father in the eye without fear for once in her life.
With every passing day of this, another little chunk of her heart falls away and dies. That day will be here soon.
