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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
- 3
The lips had felt unexpectedly soft and warm under his touch. His
own had tingled at the contact, surprised and shocked, pleased and horrified
him in one. He had wanted to continue, he had wanted to pull away, he had
wanted to never end it.

Tatsumi leaned against the closed door of his apartment, staring into
nothingness. No lights were on. His own breathing was harsh in his ears
and he felt his heart hammer in his chest as he recalled that moment over
and over again.

Watari's body so close. His smell, his touch, his sight� simply everything.
The whole man. He had never seen him like this. Never outside work, never
so� private. Never so�

� intimate.

Tatsumi shivered and swallowed hard.

Intimate.

He had finally been granted his wish, and he was scared as hell. Watari
had kissed him. Him� Tatsumi Seiichiro�

The Shadow Master walked almost unsteadily over to his couch and sank
down, shock now taking over.

After he had fled the bar he had walked the streets of Kyoto, aimless,
lost, mind whirling. In the end he had come back home, almost unconsciously
teleporting to his place.

He had kissed Watari.

And Watari had kissed back.

He had� kissed back.

He had touched him, had smiled at him, had been warm and alive and
so wonderfully close to him� in his arms.

Tatsumi ran a hand through his hair, leaving it an untidy mess, but
he didn't care. All he could think of was one question �

-- what now?
* * *
Monday came faster than he would have wanted it to rise, but here he
was � back at work. Tatsumi had spent the whole weekend trying to think
of what to do now, what to say when he met Watari at work. He couldn't
get the sensation of the other man out of his mind. His lips responding
to the kiss Tatsumi himself had initiated. He had woken more than once,
feeling hard, taking care of the problem with his hand � his best friend,
he thought wryly. And he had thought of nothing but the blond shinigami,
his smile, his eyes, his mouth, the skin revealed by the open shirt�

Tatsumi groaned and tried to concentrate on his work.

It wasn't easy.

The problem was he saw neither hide nor hair of Watari during the entire
week to come, and whenever he appeared at the lab the scientist was �magically�
otherwise engaged. Due to the fact it was a surprisingly quiet week they
didn�t even need to start a conference and all shinigami were finally able
to do their neglected paperwork � much to Tsuzuki�s horror.

Tatsumi had to work through a small hill of paper to discover why the
blond was so absent or always busy, and he didn't envy Watari the job.
It was one of those that was easily titled 'needle in a haystack'. Konoe
had asked him to go through hundreds of files in search of something specific
that went with a current case, several lost souls in the Osaka area.

No, not a shred of envy.

So Tatsumi did what he always did � bury himself in his workload again
until late at night. But each day, when it became quiet in the office with
all the others gone, his mind started to wander, providing him with pictures,
images of a certain blond haired shinigami with laughing golden eyes, faint
memories of a contact between their bodies when Watari had pressed against
him during that dance, the fleeting brush of their lips � and then he felt
warmth curling inside of him.

Watari.

The work gave him time to think about what had happened in the night
club again and again. Just like he had thought about it the rest of his
off days. Tatsumi knew he had liked it; a lot. He wanted more. More of
those lips, those hands� of Watari. For the first time since he had become
aware of his feelings for the other man had the walls broken down enough
to let those thoughts occupy his waking mind. Not just a dream � reality
had intruded and it had been in the form of a kiss.

Tatsumi removed his glasses and massaged his eyes.

He wanted Watari. And Watari was apparently not as disinclined as he
had thought he would be. Actually, the blond had been very much into it.
But there had been no calls, no visit, nothing at all after the incident.
What did that tell him?

Either Watari saw it as nothing but a little slip or he was giving
him the necessary time to think this over.

Shit, Tatsumi thought. He had no idea what of the two he should believe
in. He knew what he wanted, and it was a slender, blond man with a sexy
smile, incredible eyes and wits to match his own.

Do or die, he mused. Take a step or let it rest.

He had never been a quitter.

On Friday he couldn�t stand it any more.

Pushing his glasses back onto his nose he sighed, decision made. If
he couldn�t get the chance to see Watari at work, he would have to take
it at the club again. Not that he liked the idea very much, but� well,
it was the only way.

It was past office hours already when Tatsumi decided to call it quits
and left his desk to fend for itself until tomorrow when he would return.
He didn't know why he took the long way out, a way that took him past the
lab, but he was suddenly there.

Watari's little haven. The research lab.

Tatsumi looked at the semi-closed door, noting the light was still
on, but there was no sound coming from inside.

So he had a look inside � and stopped.

Tatsumi stood and stared at the vision of sheer beauty in front of
him.

Watari was still there, but he wasn't working. Blond head resting on
crossed arms, the younger shinigami was sleeping with his head on the table,
the long silken hair bound back in a rebellious ponytail with the strands
that always seemed to escape the tie, framing the youthful face with a
life of their own. His lab coat had been draped haphazardly over the back
of the chair and the glasses were off, resting on the table. With said
face relaxed in sleep Watari looked younger and more vulnerable than ever,
more like a heavenly angel than an angel of death, and when the hell had
he become so sappy?

A soft hoot caught his attention and he glanced over to a shelf where
he noticed 003, the ever-present, deeply loyal owl, not much bigger than
a tennis ball.

You�re watching over your master, aren�t you? Tatsumi thought.

Shickeicked her beak and hooted again, before flapping her little wings
and burying her head under one of them, returning to sleep like its master.

The computer screen still glowed faintly, columns of letters and numbers
running past. Apparently a search program.

Tatsumi stepped quietly into the lab and glanced at the screen. This
would take a while, he mused. A long while. More like the whole night.
And Watari was waiting for the results.

His hand reached out without conscious thought, touching the wavy hair,
carding through the long strands in a gentle manner. Tatsumi brushed back
one wayward blond strand from Watari�s face, sensing the other man�s warmth
against his fingertips. Watari sighed in his sleep

"Watari," he called softly.

There was a soft grunt and he had to smile a little.

"Watari, wake up. You can't sleep here."

Golden eyes blinked open, clouded by sleep, and Watari gazed owlishly
up at him, his head still resting on his arms.

"Huh?" he muttered.

"This must be painful," Tatsumi remarked, hand still resting on the
wavy hair.

When Watari raised his head, he reluctantly let it slide off, wincing
with the younger man as he felt the muscles protest their unnatural sleeping
position.

"Kinda," Watari muttered and rubbed at his neck.

Tatsumi's fingers twitched to do the same. The man looked incredibly
kissable.

�Tatsumi?�

�Hm?�

�What are you doing here that late?�

What was he doing here? Tatsumi thought. Good question.

<I walked by because I've been doing just that all week, hoping
to see you.>

Seiichiro, you're pathetic, his little inner voice chided.

Yes, he was.

Golden eyes still looked at him, unguarded by the glasses Watari wore
most of the time.

�I wanted to tell you� I don�t regret it,� Tatsumi heard himself say.

Okay, so not what he had planned to say, the lie, the quick retreat.
What the heck was wrong with him?

�Regret what?� Watari sat back, stretching a kink out of his neck,
and Tatsumi had to swallow.

�That I kissed you.�

Watari stopped his massage, eyes narrowing a bit, sandy eyebrows drawing
down. �Kiss?�

�At that bar.�

<Where else? Did we ever kiss before? No!>

�You didn�t kiss me.�
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Angels