The Art of Our Blood

Disclaimer: I do not own DN Angel, welcome to the wonderful world of Fan Fiction!

Author’s Note: I hope you enjoy this chapter.

Warning: This story will be a range of anywhere between two affectionate male friends to yaoi (Explicit sex between two males). So if you don’t like male that cry and hug and enjoy cuddle than I suggest you do not read this fic. In this story the fate of Hikari and Niwa is a grand secret of mine. Although I believe if you are one to enjoy affectionate male friends or full blown out yaoi regardless I believe you will enjoy this story.

Happy Reading!

-Na

The Art of Our Blood

Chaputa-san

Satoshi carefully rolled over onto his back as to not disturb the boy who had pillowed his red head atop the white feather. Running the long fingers of one pale hand through the red locks the icy boy did something so unlike himself- he smiled. With the other hand he matched his fingers to those of the sleeping beauty in his arms. Pale long fingers with a rectangular palm- artist’s hands; contrasted to the slightly darker long fingered hands with a rectangular palm- thief’s hands. Were they really so much alike? Were they really so different?

Sighing, the blunette stroked a finger up Daisuke’s spin a move that seemed to rouse the boy most mornings, and today was Friday a week since the little red head came to help his dying friend. Wiggling a little bit the thief scrunched his face up when the finger went up his spine once more.

“Come on, Daisuke-kun. Ohayou,” whispered Satoshi.

Daisuke shook his head rubbing it further into, the blunette’s shoulder he made a slight moan of protest, “Not now Satoshi-kun, ‘haps in a few years.”

Chuckling, the artist slowly sat up, until the other boy’s head was pillowed in his lap, “Come on it is Kin’yoobi, we are meeting the Herada’s at the café after today’s review session and tomorrow you have your art final and then on Nichiyoobi we are studying for your mathematic final.”

With another moan of protest Niwa slowly sat up in the bed and looked at his friend with an angry pout. Suddenly he smiled, and the pale boy couldn’t help but feel that it was a little bit sly, “You are looking better.”

“Hai, arigatou gozaimasu Daisuke-kun,” replied Satoshi getting out of the bed and stretching. He walked over to his desk chair where his school uniform was hanging.

The blunette was about to put on his undershirt when Daisuke halted his movements, “That’s great because you know you are going to be the model for my art final.”

“Why me?”

“You’re the only one free, since you don’t need to take finals. Ara and Nichigei request that I send them a nude to add to my portfolio. I already talked to the art teacher she will allow me to do the nude of you for the final and then she’ll even take pictures, since the oil paints won’t be dry for a month, and e-mail them to Toukyou.”

“So I am to be nude? Daisuke-kun you should really check with people before agreeing to these things,” replied Satoshi in a quiet voice, while quickly getting dressed.

Coming up behind his icy friend with his uniform shirt unbuttoned, Daisuke hugged the other, “I know Sato-kun, but trust me please. It won’t be embarrassing or anything this is me, remember I’ll be painted a nice shade of red painting you as it is.”

Stifling a chuckle Satoshi nodded, “All right now let me go I need to pack up the onigiri I made last night for lunch.”

Soon the two were headed out the door to go to school; Niwa automatically began to walk down the street when Satoshi called to him. Turning around the red watched as his friend went into the little garage, “Satoshi-kun, what are you doing?”

“I’m well enough to ride my bike and since it is such a nice day,” replied the blunette from within the dark recesses of the garage.

“What about me I don’t have a bike?”

“We’ll ride double don’t worry about it,” answered Satoshi as he wheeled out a navy blue racing style motorcycle.

“Ano… Satoshi-kun you know that is a motorcycle.”

Blue eyes chuckled, as he covered his head in a black helmet, “Actually, it is an imported Ducati 906 Paso,” throwing the red head the spare helmet and jacket, “Just trust me, get on from the left side and hold on to me tight,” putting down the visor he mumbled, “The perks of being the police commander… now I guess is a good time to learn to ride double…”

Shifting from one foot to the other Daisuke worried his bottom lip a moment before putting on the black helmet and jacket. [1] Satoshi started the engine of the motorcycle and waited for the thief to get on the back. Moving cautiously to the left of the Ducati; supporting his weight by putting his hands on the blunette’s shoulders, he mounted the bike.

After the red head didn’t move his hands, Hiwatari took both hands on his shoulders and moved them down and around his sides to clasp together around his thin waist. Giving the hands an encouraging squeeze, Satoshi pressed the gas.

The whole ride to the school went by in a blur of colors as the commander weaved in and out of traffic, going a speed no where near the posted limit. Clutching to his friend for dear life Daisuke was unable to close his eyes in fear that he would never open them again. When they made it to their school alive, the red head got off the bike his limbs weak and shaking.

Removing his helmet blue eyes sparkled with amusement, “Come on Daisuke-kun, you know I would never do anything to hurt you.”

“Satoshi-kun…”

“What, you’re not still shaken up about the ride over here are you?” asked the artist as he secured the bike in the parking space and pocketed the key.

Shifting on his heels and glancing around red eyes replied, “Sort of, but my problem is that the girls of the all girls school across the street that are looking over here.”

“We do go to an all boys’ school, Daisuke-kun.”

“Hai, but some of Iinchou’s admirers are staring at you, I think it’s your bike,” the thief said watching as his friend began to immediately glare at the girls, “I don’t think you can glare at them at this distance. I think you need some other message to say you aren’t interested.”

“Point taken Daisuke-kun, but think of the football team captain he has a girlfriend and a gaggle of fan girls.” [2]

Latching onto the blunette’s arm Niwa began to direct the boy towards the school, “Not to mention you are gay.”

“Aa, if only I could show them that,” replied Satoshi, while his new arm ornament chuckled, “Daisuke-kun why are you holding my arm like that? If you don’t let go people will-“

“Sato-kun look behind us,” said Daisuke.

The blue head turned and equally blue eyes widened to see that all his admirers had left their post outside the school gates. Turning on his friend who had just let go of his arm seeing as they had entered the school building, Satoshi asked, “But in middle school you would hate these sort of rumors.”

“I guess an all boys’ school changes you. You know those guys that are always voted cutest couple, since they are so flamboyant about the relationship? Well they aren’t actually dating; they act like that for the cutest couple award each year.”

Satoshi nodded as the two boys headed off to class. The day of review for the finals seemed to pass by agonizingly slow for the icy graduate, and seemed to weigh down upon the fiery student. During lunch they received three messages from their friends stating that everyone would be studying and therefore unable to meet at the café after classes were finished.

As the two boys exited the school building to head home for the day Daisuke suddenly stopped, “Dark!”

“Nani? What about Dark? He isn’t back is he?”! Asked the artist; a feeling akin to acute panic rising in his chest.

A bubbling laughter filled the air, “Of course not, it is kind of hard to explain, I’ll show you if you promise not to arrest my family for centuries of thievery,” when Satoshi nodded Daisuke continued, “O-ke then lets go to my house!” With those words Daisuke put on his helmet and waited for his friend to prep the motorcycle.

Sneaking into his own house on the pretenses the Emiko would not want Satoshi down in the vault. Daisuke began to bypass all forms of security his original plan was to make it to the end and then disable the system for his friend. He soon found that although he was a bit slower, speaking about being cautious, Satoshi had little problem bypassing the security. Finally they came to the last line of defense which wasn’t so much a defense as- Towa; who one can’t really sneak around.

“Daisuke, what are you doing sneaking down here?” asked the messenger.

Sighing, the red head lowered his head, “I just wanted to see Dark and Krad, and I thought that Okaa-san might not like the fact that I brought Satoshi-kun with me.”

The blond nodded, “O-ke Dai, you two behave; besides Emiko is grocery shopping at the moment. I’ll go make you two some snacks.” With that a little lilac bird flew off.

Moving deeper into the vault, Niwa didn’t give the artist a time to wonder at his heritage that they passed. The red head eventually flopped down upon an old lumpy green sofa, a grin to split the earth in two. This drew the blue gaze to what was directly in front of the dusty sofa, an artwork. An artwork that very few would find beautiful, for it was made with skull and spinal cord. Although not very beautiful, it was unforgettable; for it had a soul and was alive- the Black Wings.

“Why is that here?” exclaimed Satoshi!

“Did you think that the Niwa’s would leave such an artwork in the middle of all that rubble? Come on Satoshi, use your head,” replied the redhead moving so that the blunette could sit on the sofa as well, “now come on and sit; and let us talk to our lesser halves, since we forgot to fill them in on our situation a week ago.”

When Daisuke had referred to the once winged beings as ‘lesser halves’ an angry red swirl filled the mind of Satoshi. And as Daisuke continued to tell the tale of the dying artist the swirls of color came in an expansive array of color and emotion.

“Daisuke-kun, what are these colors I’m seeing in my mind?” asked the confused commander, his head immediately filling with a bubbly pink, which could be mistaken as none other than laughter. Gritting his teeth Satoshi growled, “Dark.”

“One second Sato-kun I’m trying to understand what Krad is saying,” replied the redhead his red eyes trained on the artwork in front of him. Trying to ignore the laughter he could see in his mind’s eye another set of swirling colors that before he didn’t realize they were separate. But now he could tell the difference the bright booming colors that were so like Dark, contrasted to the muted quiet colors that could be Krad.

Frowning deeply red orbs turned to meet blue, “Krad, says that although our closeness removes your pain, you are still dying. He believes that you will live long enough to finish school.”

There was a pause where both boys digested this information. Satoshi cursed so he would live for two or three years. But Daisuke probably thought he would live longer since normal people didn’t get their Masters and Doctorates in a couple years.

“So the colors that I can see in my head are Krad and Dark talking to us?” asked Hiwatari.

“Aa, basically.”

“O-ke, I think I can deal with this.”

------

The pale figure let the bathrobe fall to the floor, watching the rich red color spread across the cheeks of the thief turn artist. Stepping out from behind the currently blank canvas and toward the naked blunette, the redhead continually became redder at his own embarrassment.

Positioning the pale figure to sit on the chair so his profile was to the canvas. Running a finger up the naked spine to the feather nestled at the end Satoshi stretched and arched his back. Long thief’s fingers turned the shoulder to face the canvas, the index finger pushing the head down to look mournfully at the floor, or so he thought the out come. Placing right hand over heart and left hand over opposite hip, Daisuke stepped back and smiled.

Moving to the canvas he began to mix the paints needed for Satoshi’s skin; blue, red, yellow, and lots of white. Across the white canvas a form appeared as Daisuke’s blush dissipated, it was no longer about the naked man before him, but the shapes, curves, lines, negative space, space, it was about the art.

Coupling the live model before him and the photograph on the upper corner of the easel, which he thought was going to be his subject matter, the painting formed. What he had thought to be mournful and sad seemed to become more erotic before his eyes, the arch in the back being very much suggestive. But the painting as a whole seemed to not bring either message across but something deeper and soulful, for which there were no words.

When the icy boy was bade; he redressed and moved to gaze upon the painting. There in the very foreground was Satoshi naked but twisted in a way to allow for modesty and to hide his scars. There was another figure sitting back to back with Satoshi, but as if there were also a few paces between them. Both figures in the same arched and twisted position, except the unmistakable redhead had his right hand extended towards Satoshi. The background was a swirling mass of violet and gold each color concentrated on one half of the painting. To put it simply the painting made the boys look beautiful.

“I’m not that beautiful… If you had a picture of yourself why did you need me?” asked the commander blue eyes still trained on the painting.

“My art final was meant to be a self portrait, while Nichigei requested a nude painting that included a live model,” replied the redhead, he paused for a moment and shifted his weight, red eyes looked up into blue through eyelashes, and whispered, “you are that beautiful, just no one has ever shown you.”

Author’s Note:

[1] Motorcycle safety: cover as much skin as possible. Even if it is 48˚ C (120˚ F) outside, that means pants, jacket, at least ankle high socks and a helmet.
[2] Football: for you Americans I’m talking about Soccer.

Japanese you might not know:
Iinchou: Class representative/president

Regardless of your opinion please review. Thank You.

- Na