His lips got closer to Remiel’s again. Almost kissing, but not quite. Remiel needed to hold back a whimper and keep themself from breaching that last bit of space between them. Their heart drummed. Hard. Malakai licked Remiel’s mouth with his long tongue, Remiel quivering beneath him. Temptation rising, they chased after Malakai’s lips when he moved away again.

“Malakai ...” they whined when he denied them that kiss they so longed for. “Please ...”

All that got them was Malakai’s clawed finger running down their throat.

“Tell me again, Remy,” Malakai said. “Why did you seek me out?”

Remiel shook his head. “I ... I just ...”

“Y-You ... you just ...” Malakai mocked. “You just wanted to pretend, right?”

Pretend, yes. That young man in their dream. The one Remiel had almost every night for so long. The one causing an unexplainable void in their heart when they awoke. And the young man in their dream and Malakai had an uncanny resemblance.

As in, they shared the same face.

In Remiel’s dreams, they weren’t an angel, nor was Malakai a demon. In their dreams, Malakai had strawberry-blond hair and deep brown eyes and a dazzling smile. There, Remiel lived among the humans, with Malakai’s look-alike. Together, they smiled. They laughed. They danced. They made endless love; Remiel found it difficult to imagine any pair of humans so unable to keep their hands off each other like that. Witnessing such closeness, even if it was nothing more than a vivid dream, caused a pang of loneliness to echo in their chest; a stark contrast to their own isolated existence.

That unrestrained affection warmed Remiel’s heart, a vibrant beacon of hope and happiness, while also a cruel reminder of their own lack of such intimacy. Angels, like humans, experienced a wide range of emotions: joy, anger, sadness, even love. Unlike humans, an angel’s emotions remained focused on their Devine service. Anything less would be considered incongruous with their very nature. Their love centered on their assigned tasks. Their duty. Their mission.

Anything more than that -- attachment, romance, bonds beyond their sacred responsibilities -- was self-centered and selfish. Humans traits, as were lust and desire. Yet, Remiel dreamed of their entwined bodies and endless laughter with a gnawing envy; a desperate yearning for a connection they could never attain.

Grief wrapped its ugly hands around Remiel whenever they woke from the dream. A sense of unbelievable loss. Remiel thought they should mourn someone they’d never even met. They didn’t even know if the person had ever existed, and yet every time they dreamed of him, they woke with tears in their eyes and a sob in their chest.

“Say it, Angel,” Malakai demanded. “You know you want to. Lemme hear you say it.”

Malakai’s hand squeezed tighter, almost painful -- just on the right side of pain. Enough to pull a muffled shout from Remiel’s lungs.

“Yes!” They nodded. Frantic. Eyes closed and jaw clenched. “Yes, I did. I wanted to pretend that you ... that you were him, but, Malakai --”

“But nothing.” Grabbing Remiel by the front of the shirt, Malakai held them still and started kissing up and down Remiel’s neck. “That’s what you wanted, so that’s what I gave you. I gave you him. Now.” He stroked the side of their face with the back of his hand and said, softly, “Say the name, my Angel.”

“No.” Remiel shook their head, even while tilting their head back to give Malakai better access to their throat. To feel his lips suck on their neck and his teeth graze across their skin. “S-Stop. Stop it.” A strangled whisper, thin as spider silk and just as fragile, barely escaped their lips. Those words conflicted with their actions, same as the thoughts in their head, but it was too difficult to process anything else. They knew what they’d said. More importantly, they knew they didn’t mean it. And so did Malakai. “I ... I ...”

Fingers laced through Remiel’s hair and gripped tight. Yanked their head back to keep them from looking away.

“What, Remy?” he growled. “You what? What do you want?”

You, Remiel wanted to scream. I want you. I want you so fucking much, and I can’t have you.

Not the way they wished they could. Something more, something purer than a few secret moments of lust and desire. Remiel longed to be held in Malakai’s arms. To hold his hand on long walks, to dance with him in the rain, to lie beside him in bed until the sun rose. To smile and laugh. Even to fight and forgive with trust and compassion.

A fire ignited in Remiel’s belly, spiraling through their entire body and burning inside and out, as all the things they wanted, and could never have, ran through their mind. They seethed, so aroused by Malakai’s presence and actions, they could barely breathe, their breaths colliding into one another and body trembling. Their head spun, leaving them dizzy and lightheaded, and their wings sprung out, glowing and sparkling, and knocked Malakai away.

He landed on his backside at Remiel’s feet, staring up at them with a cheeky grin, a chuckle, and the start of a slow clap. Malakai licked the inside of his teeth as he rose back to his feet.

“Well, all right then,” he said, low and sultry. “I can take a hint.” And yet, he was already pressing both hands to Remiel’s chest again. “Will you at least allow me the courtesy of extending a proper goodbye to my angel?”