Mission Success blazed across Ira’s vision, awakening him from his slumber as his body flinched itself into the waking world. For a second, he was too stunned to react, belatedly realizing that he hadn’t bothered to check up on his Host in a while. And apparently, while he wasn’t doing that, she had… finished the mission?
Huh. How about that.
When he got his act together again, Ira untangled his limbs from Angelo’s and sat up. He stared out the window, at the perpetually cloudy sky. He glanced at his fiancé, still peacefully sleeping. He had the strange urge to trace Angelo’s features with his fingertips, and he saw no reason to resist it. The tips of his fingers, the nails painted to a golden and glittery perfection, thus swept over Angelo’s face.
The man sighed, turning his face to chase the sensations, and Ira’s lips twitched. He settled down on the bed again, rejecting the idea to get up, and laid on his side opposite Angelo, staring at his fiancé and trying to force the memories to stick in his database.
Maybe he didn’t want to forget it all.
Licking his lips, Ira quietly asked, “Angelo? Are you awake?”
“Sure,” Angelo muttered into his pillow, scars from the sheets burrowed into his face’s skin. Ira traced those, too, with his fingertips and eyes both. He enjoyed the shivers that befell Angelo from Ira’s touches, and the tingling sensation in his fingers grew tighter and more dangerous both.
“I need to leave,” Ira whispered, somehow unable to say the words loudly. He grimaced at that thought, but there was nothing to be done about it.
Slowly, Angelo’s eyes opened wide and stared at him, an unfamiliar breathlessness coursing through Ira. Angelo’s mouth opened, then closed, then opened again, his hand reaching up and snagging Ira’s, clinging to it tightly. “Now?”
“Half-an-hour, or so,” Ira muttered. Closing his own eyes, he inhaled sharply. “My presence here is tied to my Host’s. When my Hosts leave, the tie tethering me to them will snap at me until I follow, wherever it is they go next. The longer I resist, the more it hurts.”
“Hurts?” Angelo pushed himself up. “No, don’t hurt yourself. I’ll follow you, where are you going?” his voice was frantic, and his eyes doubly so. The hand clinging to Ira’s was already starting to sweat and tremble, and Angelo’s wide eyes were staring at him too harshly for Ira to lie.
“I don’t know.”
Angelo’s mouth fell open. He licked them, then, and scooted closer to Ira. “H-hug?” he asked, and that his voice broke nearly made Ira turn away, unable to deal with the overt display of emotion. He didn’t know how to deal with a sad Angelo; had never learned that. Didn’t know how to provide comfort at all, really. But he wanted to try. For Angelo, he wanted to try.
“I’m sorry,” said Ira. He fell into the hug as much as Angelo did, curling all his limbs around the man. Tucking his face into the space where Angelo’s shoulder met the neck, he surrounded himself with Angelo’s warmth, sinking into the beautiful soul like he could merge them.
We’re sorry for MTLers or people who like using reading mode, but our translations keep getting stolen by aggregators so we’re going to bring back the copy protection. If you need to MTL please retype the gibberish parts.
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Ira blinked. He opened his eyes, gazing at the wall on the behind Angelo. There was a heat coursing through his veins, a beating in his chest that nearly made him panic, that would have made him run away if he was human. Like any emotion he didn’t understand, couldn’t comprehend, he locked it away in his database for later study. Dwelling on them was sometimes the answer and sometimes not, but he couldn’t know until he tried.
“I’ll find you again?” Ira said, and it somehow came out as a question. He didn’t know why—there were so many things that he didn’t know, didn’t understand. It almost bothered him, how many answers he lacked when it sometimes felt like it was common sense and he was just dumb.
Angelo muttered, “I’ll be waiting,” voice sad and full of somberness, and Ira’s throat got suspiciously sore. At that moment, he hated his Host like he’d never hated one of them before; a vicious burning igniting in him. He wanted to kill her, wanted to tear her soul pieces to pieces and eat them.
But… Ira was a good System. He was good at his job. And he even sort of liked his Boss—and so the hatred was exhaled in one large breath, and he slumped his entire weight on Angelo instead.
Angelo groaned as he was suddenly forced to carry them both, but admirably handled the extra baggage, not moving an inch. After another moment, Angelo added, “I made some cookies yesterday before bed. Do you want some before you leave?”
“Obviously, yes,” Ira said, sitting up. He looked at his lover for a moment, and then at the ring on his hand, and was struck over the head by the fact that they once again hadn’t had time to get married. He’d have to rush them next time, convince Angelo to elope or get a shotgun wedding or something. He was done waiting, though—they were getting married.
Putting his hands on either side of Angelo’s cheek, Ira leaned forward until his forehead softly collided with Angelo’s. “It’s alright,” said Ira, voice cozy, warm, gentle. “I’ll find you, and I’ll marry you, and we’ll be happy. It’s alright.”
Angelo’s lips trembled, wobbled, and his eyes watered. Ira squeezed Angelo’s cheeks harsher, but it didn’t deter the emotion being spewed on him, and a tear slipped over Angelo’s eye, down his cheek, staining Ira’s hand. “It’s alright,” Ira repeated again, volume even lower, and his thumbs softly swept over Angelo’s skin. Ira reassured his fiancé, “We’ll meet again.”
“…’know,” Angelo’s muttering were too low for Ira to truly make out, but he stayed where he was for another couple of minutes anyway, even as he slowly started the process of cutting the threads tying his soul to this body. It could take as much as an hour, if really stretched it, he thought, but he also didn’t see the point.
Seeing Angelo so sad was… upsetting Ira, yes, but the evidence and previous data suggested they would see each other on the next mission. And because Ira’s Host had succeeded, he wouldn’t even be taking his mandated break of a minimum of two earth weeks before he embarked on the next mission. No, it would start instantly.
Which meant that, if it all worked out, he might see his fiancé again as soon as in a couple of days. And hopefully they’d be married a day or so after that, because Ira was really starting to get annoyed.
He’d already made the decision to marry Angelo, and he disliked the fact that it kept being stolen from him.
They rolled out of bed eventually, walking hand in hand to the kitchen. Angelo got the cookies and Ira poured two glasses of milk, and then they wandered into the living room and flopped onto the couch. Angelo instantly opened his arms and Ira gleefully punted himself in between them, sinking against the other man like a stone sinking in water. He sighed, eyes closing for the briefest second.
“Here,” Angelo held out the plate of cookies to him, and Ira grabbed three and nibbled away on them within the blink of an eye. Angelo didn’t eat, really, only nibbled a bite here and there when Ira pouted at him, and so Ira got the whole plate more or less to himself.
The cookies were heavenly, of course. Angelo had made them, and anything Angelo made was great by default. Ira would entertain no other opinion.
The blankets were heavy on them, and the music that Angelo turned on after a while was soft and gentle, too. The light glowing on them from the window was pale and finicky, the streetlamp unable to punch through the smog to properly reach them. Ira’s stomach stopped growing for food after awhile, and instead bulged as he continued to eat until eventually, he felt so bloated it hurt.
He frowned.
Cuddling into Angelo again, Ira’s eyes fell shut. He breathed in the scent of cookies and Angelo and heat and snuggles. The taste on his tongue, in his mouth, was still amazing, and he licked his lips as he chased it.
Ira tilted his head back on Angelo’s shoulder, asking politely, “Kiss?”
Angelo smiled, hugging him softly, and nodded. Their lips pressed together first softly, gently, hardly a touch at all, really. Ira sighed into it, scooting closer and tilting his head for a better angle, and then he felt Angelo’s hand curl around his neck, fingers grazing his skin and leaving shivers in their wake.
Ira hummed. He pressed closer, and Angelo did too, and the kiss got deeper and Angelo’s other hand landed on Ira’s waist, keeping a tight grip. Ira didn’t protest, his own hand landing on Angelo’s arm and keeping it stuck in place. He breathed in Angelo’s breath, his soul, his life, and he very nearly never wanted to let go.
He felt the beating of his heart in his chest, felt the tugging of the strings on his soul, felt the warmth in his veins. He felt it all—he wanted to drown in it.
Ira didn’t want to leave Angelo.
(He wanted to stay.)
Pursing his lips, the kiss broke. The air between them was warm, their breaths hot. Ira’s nose eventually scrunched up at the feeling, and he put some distance between their faces. His hand patted around until it connected with Angelo’s, their fingers entwining.“Don’t be sad,” Ira demanded, his eyebrows furrowing.
Angelo’s eyes were still too watery for Ira to be satisfied, and it annoyed him that he couldn’t make it stop; annoyed him that he wasn’t good at comforting someone. He should practice more. He would try it on the next mission.
Practice made perfect, after all.
Angelo said, “I love you.” His eyes were staring straight at Ira, the gaze brimming with emotion that Ira supposed was love. Angelo’s hands were still so soft and gentle on his skin, though, despite the sadness and desperation and almost… longing, that colored Angelo’s behavior. They didn’t press too harshly, didn’t leave any marks on fragile human skin.
There was only one thread left now, only one tie keeping him in this body. Ira could feel the tugging, the insistent demands that he had a job to do and languishing here wasn’t part of it. Could see the messages in his mind, warning him for prolonged stay in a world without authorization.
The thing was, Ira could only be here as long as he was disguised as a “human soul”. He was fundamentally different, his soul made of different things, and his existence alone violated almost every world’s probability.
When he tied his soul to his Hosts to stay in human worlds, he was basically a parasite hitching a ride. But his Host wasn’t here anymore.
And his existence in this world was not in line with probability.
“I’ll see you soon,” Ira murmured, reaching up to peck Angelo’s cheek. He smiled at his lover as he leaned back, taking a dozen pictures in quick succession. Angelo’s hands landed on his cheeks, keeping him still, and Ira indulgently allowed it. His eyelashes fluttered, his heart following pace, and he leaned into the warm touch.
And then he cut the last thread, and Ira’s soul flew.
End of Arc 9
And don't forget, you can read ch 1 & 2 of Fake NPC (an unlimited flow BL novel) for free. No account is needed! 1: https://www.patreon.com/posts/fake-npc-ch1-59102108 2: https://www.patreon.com/posts/fake-npc-ch2-60077027
Aaaaaaaaaahhhhh 🥲🥲🥲🥲
Yyyyy does him leaving always make me want to cryyy 😭