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Angels	By : Macx Category: Descendents of Darkness/Yami No Matsuei > General Views: 3104 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Descendants of Darkness (Yami no Matsuei), nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Angels
- 2-part 2
- 3-part 3
- 4-part4
- 5-part 5
- 1
- 2
TITLE: Angels
AUTHOR: Macx and Lara Bee
DISCLAIMER: not mine. Definitely not! I just play with them and hope
I tread on no one's toes.
Author�s Voice of Warning (aka Author�s Note):

English is not my first language; it�s German. This is the best I can
do. Any mistakes you find in here, collect them and you might win a prize
<g> The spell-checker said everything's okay, but you know how
trustworthy those thingies are.....
WARNINGS: none
TYPE: yaoi
RATING: NC-17
PAIRING: Tatsumi/Watari
FEEDBACK: empty inbox seeks emails <g>

Tatsumi would have never thought he might find himself in a place like
this on a Saturday evening. Music throbbed, strobes of light lanced and
stabbed around the darkened room, highlighting gleaming metal beams and
mirror walls. There was the smell of smoke and alcohol, the background
noise of human voices, and the overall electricity of a place packed with
life.

No, not really his kind of place.

But his apartment had felt cold lately and Tatsumi had done what he
was used to doing in moments like these � bury himself in his work until
late, then go home and fall into his bed, dead to the world. Well, as dead
as a shinigami could ever be, that was. Morning would come soon and with
it more work, more distraction. It was a proven, working concept. It was
a way of life he had quickly adapted to, which he was good at.

Unfortunately he was on vacation at the moment.

Tatsumi Seiichiro rarely took time off; he was such a work animal,
but this time� well, this time he had been forced to. Konoe had made it
quite clear that he wasn�t allowed to come back until Monday morning at
nine. Theoretically Konoe was his boss, though people always whispered
that the true power behind the Shokan Division was Tatsumi Seiichiro, but
he would hear none of it. Konoe was his superior and while Tatsumi had
a lot of power, he never abused it.

Faced with no work day, he had tried his best to fill his days at home
with whatever chores he could find, like painting the handrail of the stairwell
or finally repairing the dripping faucet in the kitchen, and it had taken
his mind off of some things but� not enough. Things that had developed
lately, things that had come to the forefront again, things he had tried
to ignore. Sadly, some things he could no longer ignore and they also wouldn't
go away.

He sighed.

So he had decided to go out for a while. That was why Tatsumi had finally
found himself here, in a bar with dance floor, had slipped into a nice
little booth and ordered a drink. The Shadow Master rarely drank, except
for a glass of wine every now and then, so he surprised himself with his
own behavior. Oh well�

Sipping on his surprisingly good drink he glanced around, trying to
categorize the clientele of this particular establishment. Preferably young
and handsome guys, he noted� and almost choked on his drink.

Holy�

Great! Just great! How in all heavens could he ever had ended up here?

Wishful thinking? a part of him snickered.

<Oh, shut up!>

But you would like to� but not with just anyone.

And that had been one of the main problems ri up up again. He had
ignored it long enough, shoved it away, locked away his feelings like so
many times before, but the strength of the very person who had entered
his life in such an unexpected way so long ago wasn't waning. If at all,
the attraction was growing and it deeply upset the Shadow Master. He was
used to order and control, though he wasn't a control freak, and this whirlwind
had simply blown him off kilter.

Tatsumi downed his drink and prepared to leave when something caught
his attention; a flash of light� Turning he took a second look and realized
what he had seen, eyes widening in shock and awe. There on the dance floor,
in a whirl of gold and white, was Watari. Smiling at his current dance
partner and pulling himself out of the light grip the other had on his
hips Watari whirled around, laughing golden eyes sparkling with joy�

Tatsumi felt himself rooted to the spot, frozen, shocked and� fascinated.
He watched the younger shinigami move smoothly and fluidly, radiating such
wonderful life, even in his death, such energy and youthful cheerfulness,
it was hard to really fight off the effects this man had on the people
he met. His blond hair was bound back tightly with several loose strands
hanging into his face, and the smile was as carefree and heartfelt as always.

He looked� incredible, Tatsumi thought, mouth dry and brain misfiring.

�Man, you have high goals,� a dry voice said behind him, making Tatsumi
start.

�What do you mean?� he asked, glancing at the tall man who stood beside
him now, following his line of sight.

�You�re eyeing Yuta,� the stranger said, nodding at the blond haired
shinigami.

�So?�

Dark eyes regarded him curiously. �So you must be new. Yuta's the most
valuable prize, but nobody�s succeeded so far. He comes here every few
weeks, always alone and leaves alone. This gorgeous body� what a waste.
Tried myself, but he can turn you down so politely, give you one of those
dazzling smiles, and you feel like the king of the hill because he even
spoke to you. Like I said, high goals. But try it, my friend.�

Tatsumi's eyes wandered back to his colleague, noticing the man who
had managed to wrap his arms around the shinigami again, whispering something
into his ear. He felt a surge of� what? Just seeing the man holding Watari,
leaning in so close, allowed to touch him in places� Tatsumi wanted nothing
more than to go over there and trade places.

<There we go again>, he groaned silently.

Things like that had happened a lot lately. Well, lately as in �the
last years�. Watari Yutaka had arrived in Meifu about thirty years ago,
shortly after his death. A violent death, Tatsumi recalled. A lab explosion
that had killed the young, ambitious man within seconds. Like all shinigami
something had kept him bound to his former life, though. Shinigami weren�t
simply chosen, they were h bei beings who couldn�t give up life as it had
been. It was either guilt, shame, or the need to finish something or other.
Tatsumi had no idea what had kept Watari from simply surrendering to death,
and he had never asked.

The blond shinigami who had arrived in the Shokan Division had turned
everything upside down. Unlike others who came here depressed or emotionally
frozen or even aggressive, Watari had been like a warm breeze. He had been
smiling, cheerful, fun � he hadughtught with him life.

And the owl.

Tatsumi still remembered that day. It had been day two of Watari�s
shinigami life and suddenly there had been this little tennis ball of an
owl on his shoulder, who had soon become a fixture in this place. 003 had
stormed into their lives just like her owner. No one knew where she had
come from. Aside from Tsuzuki�s ofuda birds, magical creatures, there were
no animals here. There was also no law against keeping pets.

So the owl had stayed.

And Watari had stayed.

Tatsumi, as the secretary to Konoe and the second-in-commso tso to
speak, had littledo wdo with field missions per se. He assigned them, but
he never worked with any of the agents. Watari had been given one of the
most quietest sectors, Osaka and Kyoto, and while there were a few cases,
there was nothing as extreme as Tsuzuki�s confrontations. He worked his
cases with enthusiasm, with diligence and with success.

That hen din discovered that he Shokan Division also had a lab had
been accidental and ever since Watari had taken on the position as both
the resident doctor, if there was need, and their scientist. His engineering
degree, his computer skills and his agile, inquiring mind were his assets.
He was a bright young man, energetic, unstoppable on a research quest,
and�

�and Tatsumi had found himself watching him more and more often.

Throughout meetings, throughout breaks, throughout whatever moments
occurred. He felt uncharacteristically empty and alone when Watari left
his office after a debriefing. He wanted to be around him, so he hovered
in the lab throughout a computer research. And while he had protested the
assignment of the blond as his partner throughout the Kurosaki case, he
had secretly enjoyed it.

He enjoyed the vibrant voice, the sparkling golden gaze, the energy
that radiated off the younger man. Watari had wormed his way into his consciousness,
into his life, his mind� his heart and soul.

Tatsumi didn�t know when, but he had found himself slowly wanting more
of Watari. Not just his friendship. He envied Tsuzuki the ease with which
he interacted with the blond. He envied 003 whenever she was petted, stroked
or cooed at. He found himself following those slender fingers as they flew
over a keyboard, held a pen or simply carded through tangled blond strands
after a shower.

The time at Kurosaki Nagare�s house had been his personal hell. Watari�
in just a simple bathrobe� no glasses� so completely relaxed. Tatsumi had
found himself breathless � and had immediately shut down, turning off those
emotions. He had actively shielded himself from the charm, the warmth�
and the attraction.

No chance.

No chance at all.

He had lost on all fronts and Watari had turned into his personal hell.
He was so close, but he couldn�t really touch him. He wasn�t a replacement
for Tsuzuki, Tatsumi�s hopeless love for the troubled shinigami who reminded
him so much of how his own mother had suffered. Watari was� Watari. A league
of his own. Out of Tatsumi�s league.

Now he was here. In a place he wouldn�t have entered if he had been
in his right mind.

And Watari was here.

Golden eyes met his.

Tatsumi swallowed hard when the blond pulled from the embrace of his
partner, leaving the man to dance with someone else. There was a brief
flash of resigned disappointment, then the rejected man found himself a
new partner. Watari stepped from the dance floor, right into his direction,
and all Tatsumi could do was stare. He had never seen Watari like this
and it gave his mind the strangest ideas. The slender body, usually hidden
beneath large pullovers and white lab coats, was now nicely revealed by
a skintight, former black jeans and a simple white shirt, hanging loosely
and, due to its open state, showing a lot of skin -- skin he wanted nothing
more but to run his fingertips over to confirm its softness.

Watari was breathing a little hard due to the dancing he had just performed,
and Tatsumi felt his throat go dry with the sight -- and the sudden thought
how one could make Watari Yutaka pant... jeeez, what the hell was he thinking?!

"Tatsumi. I never believed you of all people'd show up in a place like
this," Watari's soft voice cut into his line of thoughts.

<You and me both, pal.>

"I�"

"Oh, I see, you wanted to explore the nether regions, huh?" Watari
downed a drink and turned mischievous, sparkling golden eyes at him.

Nether regions. Shit, his brain was really all messed up now. Tatsumi
felt images collide, along with the thought that he would really love to
explore nether regions with this man.

"Since you're here, Tatsumi-san -- let's dance."

"Wa� Watari!"

Tatsumi didn't get the chance to voice his protests as he felt fingers
curl around his wrist and drag him all the way over to the dance floor.
Watari laughed at him wholeheartedly and he felt his apprehension melt
away under the sparkling sound. Sure, he had heard his colleague laugh
before. Watari Yutaka was one of the most cheerful persons in the whole
of Meifu, and he spread good-natured happiness and smiles wherever he went.

Suddenly the music changed, turned into a slower tune, and for a second
Tatsumi didn't know what to do, just gazed into those golden orbs that
held an unreadable expression. And then Watari's body was pressed flush
against his, arms came up and pulled him closer carefully as if expecting
him to break free.

As if, he heard part of him proclaim. You're right where you have been
trying to be for how long, ne, Tatsumi-san?

<Shut up!>

Tatsumi tentatively placed his hands on Watari's hips, felt the other
man move and let him take the lead, just followed him through the soft
rhythm, pulled the hard body closer until he was even able to breathe in
the other man's faint scent, warm and soft, like peach and vanilla, like
the two of them.

Watari looked at him and suddenly his entire world focused only on
those beautiful golden eyes, as strange and fascinating as the violet ones
of Tsuzuki were. Golden eyes that couldn't belong to any human being, in
a face that was smooth and handsome. He felt the silken strands of long
blond hair brushing over his fingers, sending sparkles all through his
body with ever tickling touch. Hearing only the rush of his blood in his
ears, Tatsumi watched the world stop moving as he lifted a hand in slow
motion, ghosting fingertips over a soft cheek, bending down, noticing the
slight widening of those beloved eyes and heard the surprised gasp before
their lips touched.

Watari.

He was� kissing Watari.

And the universe exhaled.

Blue eyes flew open on shock.

"Watari� I'm sorry, I shouldn't have� I'm sorry."

Tatsumi pulled back roughly and fled.
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Angels