Inky ^beta

Pure’s body ached, the tense grip around his throat loosening little by little. Brutal must’ve wandered off; that thought felt worse than the pain. It was a complete mystery how the tether hadn’t woken him up before, not that he’d bother moving to fight it. The Gentle Spy’s presence was still a fresh memory, an unhealed wound that replayed the knife across his throat over and over; Brutal’s arrival finally broke him from the trance, with a bucket of water in one hand and a towel in the other.

So consumed by relief, the freak would’ve dropped the bucket if he didn’t think to place it down first. “Yer awake!” He rushed over with the rag, the damp cloth pressing stray strands of hair to the angel’s face forcing awareness of the fact that his mask was absent.

Truth be told, Pure didn’t even think Brutal was capable of humbling himself to this extent. “Were you caring for me..?”

Brutal shied away suddenly as his cheeks burned red. “Nevermind that.. Gimme the rest of yer suit ‘n tell me who did this ta ya so I can make ‘em pay.”

The angel had tried to push sensation from his mind for as long as possible, though it was pointless by the time Brutal was close enough for both of them to evade the tether. He was already stripped of his not-so-white jacket, though his sweater was only slightly less marred by his own blood. Following the freak’s instruction he started to slip off his slacks- a freedom he rarely experienced- while he considered how to avoid telling the truth.

“Do not worry, it wasn’t anyone important.. The BLU team truly does not relent, I see now.” Miraculously Brutal seemed to believe it, one fist gripping the sheets as the image of the BLU base blanketed in flames reflected in his eyes. “I’ve never felt so much pain before! Quite a rush..” That much wasn’t a lie, he’d met his match against the red suited assassin that was normally not so ruthless. Still he tried his best to downplay it, reaching his hand- also missing his gloves- out to rest on the freak’s fist. “But oh, so worth it.”

For some foreign, unexplained reason, Pure simply couldn’t contain his laughter. His uncharacteristic, deluded, outspoken joy neared bellowing as he teared up, a bittersweet mix of pain and pride.

Brutal, of all people, was the one to recoil with concern this time; he couldn’t help the guilt that came along with it. “..I shoulda woken up, shoulda been there for ya.”

“Ma brute, non..” As the freak stood with the newfound willpower to wipe the BLU team off the face of the earth, Pure’s grip on his arm wouldn’t relent. “It is my duty, there is no need-”

The return of Brutal’s harsh nature caught the angel off guard, yanking his arm back as he came close to snapping. “How many times do I hafta tell ya-” He’d cut himself off, biting his lip and taking a deep breath. “I’m goin’. I can’t let ‘em think they can get away with this.”

Pure, too, was reaching an unknown limit. Before Brutal could leave he leapt to his feet in a panic, wrapping his arms around the freak from behind and trapping him there- not effectively of course, he would be very easily beaten in a battle of strength.

“Attend! Don’t leave me..” He confessed his woes pressed against the freak’s back, tears starting to swell and dampen the black vest. “Je te veux pour moi seul.”

Pure couldn’t exactly blame his own thoughts on the other voice, especially when there was radio silence where he was normally being teased to death; he would still try.

There was relief in the fact that the angel’s words finally made the freak falter, glancing over his shoulder with a much softer expression again before spinning around to comply. “Greedy little thing, aintcha? It’s not like I can go very far without ya anyway, love.”

The angel huffed, though he was far from annoyed, only keeping up the lie. “I have not fully recovered, I could not protect you in this state.. That is all.”

“Yeah, right. Just ‘cause they kicked yer ass doesn’t mean they’ll ever come close ta mine!” Brutal half heartedly reminded his guardian once again that he needed no protection, all the while grinning from ear to ear as his hands did the work of guiding Pure back to the bed. “C’mon, ya need more beauty sleep.. Not that ya can get any pre’ier.”

With the ideas he’d come up with, the freak didn’t plan on letting him sleep just yet, anyway. It never took much for the angel to follow his lead, practically collapsing into Brutal’s lap as the freak craned his neck to stare into the doting blue gaze mere inches from his own. As much as he wanted to pull Pure down into a kiss that wouldn’t end until they both felt like their tether had ripped the air from their lungs, the holy one wasn’t so sure.

Luckily, the freak had found a loophole.

He started gentle, lips pressed experimentally to one side of the angel’s jaw. Brutal felt the angel’s sudden pause, and cut him off as soon as he inhaled to speak.

“This doesn’t count as a kiss, does it?” Pure didn’t have much of an argument for that, not that he’d protest the foreign feeling to begin with; slinging one arm over Brutal’s shoulder, he made a silent effort to give the freak his approval. Of course, his beast obliged.

Each kiss closer to the constricting neck of the angel’s sweater grew more ravenous, and for good reason; just beyond Pure’s last remaining layer of modesty was the blood that he’d yet to wash away, a tantalizing scent to a man drawn to red like a moth to a flame. He could never satiate that hunger with the turtleneck in his way. He could only tease pristine skin between his teeth for so long, eventually remembering to gasp for air and beg for mercy.

“Yer sweater, love..” One hand at the angel’s waist tugged at the end of the black knitted fabric. “Can I take it off?”

To that Pure whined, dreading the consequences of such vulnerability but too intrigued by the freak’s every move to say otherwise. Instead of attempting to find the words he’d lost to the butterflies in his stomach, he leaned just slightly away to pry off the sweater on his own. Nerves tugged him in one direction, fascination in the other, and both made his hands move dreadfully slow; Brutal couldn’t have asked for a greater show.

Pure shivered as skin that rarely felt the air was set free, his skin icy and frigid until he felt the freak’s much warmer hands reach reflexively for his waist; that only made him shiver more, shrinking back towards the touch he was clearly just as hungry for.

“Yer just perfect, huh?” Brutal whispered, breath truly taken away; aside from the blood that had seeped through each of the layers of the angel’s clothing in messy splotches, his skin was as perfect as porcelain. He was sure it was as fragile, too; it was a shame that the freak could not be so delicate.

He dove back into Pure’s shoulder without hesitation; though he’d considered warning the angel first, the blood staining his skin lured the beast in and left no room for thought. When his canines first pierced what had once been perfection the angel yelped, startled but not so opposed to tear away. More than anything, he was perplexed, especially since the freak lingered there in contemplation of his own.

Brutal could’ve never known that angels tasted this sweet. Clearly he was the luckiest man on earth, his own taste of heaven melting into his arms and on his tongue like candy. Though he’d contented himself previously with whatever he could harvest off the ones that didn’t respawn, he was sure he’d live his life like a vampire if it meant getting another taste.

“Bloody delicious you are, fuck..” His voice barely escaped past the angel’s whimpers, breathing was only second to the intoxicating taste that stained his lips.

“Ah! You are.. eating me..?” Pure had never seen the freak so starved before; perhaps he was starved in his own right, melting into the hands kneading circles into his waist. It was all too much juxtaposition; all of Brutal’s reassurance was balancing his pain, though the freak had lingered there for so long the angel had grown morbidly used to it.

“Just cleanin’ ya off,” Brutal chuckled at that, though he wouldn’t stay away for very long, even lapping up the blood that dared to drip the second time.

Even as pain grew distant, Pure couldn’t make much sense of it. “You’re just making me bleed m-mmm!” He could feel so much more when the freak took another bite elsewhere; with another sting came the thrill of it all, which enticed that dreadful demon out of him once more.

Of course, his laughter echoed like a symphony that grated the angel’s ears. ”You want him all to yourself, don’t you? What you’ve failed to realize is that he wants you just as much.”

There wasn’t much of a rebuttal, considering Pure was reduced to the humiliating sounds that escaped the hand clasped against his mouth every time he tried to do so much as breathe.

”Pain has never felt so good, ouais? Look at how desperate you are, stripping yourself of your dignity just for his touch..” The voice seemed hopeful, intent in each and every word he reiterated to coax the angel away from purity. ”And yet there’s so much more to feel, isn’t there?”

Whatever response Pure had to that was overshadowed by the kisses pressed against each of the bite marks on his shoulder, a pause much longer than he’d anticipated even if he cherished it. The fear that Brutal would leave still lingered, and so the angel decided he would be selfish if greed truly drove him to it. He wasn’t letting the freak out of his sight; the hand over his mouth lowered, only for him to plead for more in a pathetically high pitch.

“I hear ya,” Brutal hushed softly. The angel’s blood was hardly the biggest mess he’d made; Pure himself was a panting, disheveled disaster greater than ever before. Yet the freak wasn’t one to disappoint, obeying with more ravenous bites trailing closer to the angel’s neck and threatening to travel past what his turtleneck would cover; to that, with what little composure remained, Pure nudged him back and voiced his disapproval incoherently. “Alright, alright..” Brutal planted a kiss where his trail had ended, his smile pressed to the crook of the angel’s neck as he wrapped him in another hug. “No healin’ these, alright?”

Pure’s response might have been some form of affirmation. Of course, neither could tell.

“Let’s get ya washed off..” Brutal kept the angel in his arms as he stood, reaching carefully for the bucket of clothes- now a deep saturated shade of red- and climbed free from the shack towards their stolen car. He was thankful, admittedly, considering he didn’t plan on carrying Pure the few miles due south where the water pipes had busted and formed a pond. It was a quiet ride, for him at least; Pure’s thoughts were obnoxiously loud.

”You still won’t kiss him, will you?” The other voice grumbled to no success. The angel was sure of his boundaries. A kiss would be the ultimate sin, he believed; giving up chastity- not that he could fathom much beyond an embrace anyway- was the fastest way to forfeit his faith in the lord. No one, not Brutal, not the demon that reassured him sin was all he wanted and more, could change his mind. Not yet, at least.

”What a shame.. He’s all yours for the taking.” Pure couldn’t help that he glanced over and eventually caught himself staring. The seeds the other voice planted in his mind made it much harder to separate his faith from selfish fantasy; he wondered if kissing those blood stained lips would stain his own, too. For a moment he was stuck on the thought, until his eyes snapped back to the road and his mind to stubbornness.

”Do not let the moment pass. He will not wait for you forever.. You’ll have nowhere else to go.” Pure would have reminded himself that he could return to the heavens and repent if it came to it, though the other voice didn’t seem to agree. ”It doesn’t matter if the heavens take you back. Would you even want to be there?” That question wasn’t as simple to answer.

Luckily the water glimmering under the sun in the distance swept away his focus, a real- albeit manmade- dreamy desert oasis. It was no wonder Brutal always smelled like death incarnate, considering he’d driven so far just to find the angel clean bathing water. Pure ran to the pond like cleanliness was his refuge, leaving a trail of red with each step he took deeper. The cold washed over him and soothed all the tension that he’d bottled up; when he waded far enough, the weight lifted off of his feet completely. Sure, it wasn’t flying, but the water felt like its own kind of freedom, another joy of mortal life he’d never experienced before.

Of course, Brutal wouldn’t let it last. He didn’t take the same cautious steps- or any steps really into the water, but leapt to cannonball into the pond. The metal bucket emerged first, then the freak laughing as maniacally as ever. Pure wasn’t granted any time to react before Brutal reached for the bucket and splashed him with it, the angel shrieking in horror before succumbing to just as much laughter. Clearly, the freak hadn’t anticipated Pure putting his wings to good use with an even bigger splash, coming close to a wave.

“Do not underestimate me!” The angel swayed away from Brutal’s second onslaught as he shouted, dipping below the surface and emerging only to sneak up and pull the freak into a big hug. “It shouldn’t surprise me that you do not know how to bathe yourself.” He was hardly serious, giggling all the while as they floated in tandem.

“Well, what’s the point? I’ll just go ‘n get bloody again.”

“You are disgusting!” Pure smacked his shoulder lightly, wincing at the movement of his own.

“You love it.” Much to the angel’s dismay Brutal traced his fingers over the marks he’d left, surely proud of himself. Pure hissed when the freak washed them off, spinning around to escape the stinging as soon as he could, though he wasn’t exactly free from Brutal’s arms around his waist.

As Brutal idly ran water through his hair, the angel glanced up at the clouds and lost himself in them. It had been so long, yet every time he looked up to the skies he found himself longing for the safety. Now, even that feeling was starting to wane. Would he even want to go back? Sure, the heavens hadn’t changed much in the century he’d spent there, but Pure himself had changed tremendously in the mere few decades he’d spent living with mortals, not to mention in the time he’d spent with Brutal alone. It was hard to imagine giving up everything he had for sanctity and abstinence.

“Somethin’ else catch yer pretty eye, angel?” Pure remembered where he was, and started to notice how good the fingers running through his hair felt.

He seemed sure the freak would laugh. “It was the only home I’d ever known.. Even now, it is peculiar to be staring up at it.”

“Well..” Instead, Brutal only delicately spun him around in the water for the angel to face him, brushing hair from his face as he spoke. “Ya got a new one, ain’t that right?”

That was enough for Pure to agree, not even the heavens were as blissful as the tiny nook in the freak’s rotting shack. “Oui.. I do.” Only then did he wonder why the saying ‘love is free’ only applied to mortals; truly, he was digging his own grave. “Bien que Brutal, tu es trop gentil avec moi..” The angel smiled brighter than the sun, leaning in to nuzzle the freak’s chest in another tight wrapped hug.

“Y’know, ya sound real sweet when I can’t tell what yer sayin’.” Though he tried to sound cool, Pure could feel the freak’s heart beating out of his chest, hastily leading them both back to land. “Alright, let’s get goin’.”

As soon as the angel’s feet hit the ground he started to slouch; his wings came close to dragging in the sand, far too much weight to hold now that they were soaking wet. Flying was out of the question, and walking didn’t feel much better. Brutal noticed; second nature kicked in, and he scooped Pure off of the ground again. Somehow, the weight didn’t give him nearly as much trouble. By the time they’d settled back into the car Pure was the one left exhausted, eyes fluttering as the sun covered him like a blanket.

”You’d better make a move soon, mon ange. He’s practically wrapped around your finger. Just one kiss would do..”

By the time Pure answered seemingly no one aloud, he was only barely awake. “Oui, I’d like that..”