Of Devils, Angels, and Heartbreak

THE DEAAAAAAATH OF A BACHELOOOOOOOOOR

(A/N oh look I didn't update when I said I would. What a surprise. I'm simply shocked. Well, thank you so much to everyone who read, voted, and commented on this stupid little сказка of mine. Merci beaucoup! Special thanks to my dear bastard GID, for convincing me not to abandon this and dealing with my shit all the time.) 

Life, or rather, death, was good. Arthur was lounging on the throne, splayed over the ornate seat, engrossed in a book while Alfred crouched at the foot of his own throne, quick drawing something.

"Hey babe?"

"Mmm?"

"What are we gonna do now?"

Arthur looked up from his book, casting an imperious glance upon the American. "What do you mean, love?" Alfred set his pencil down, sitting up and crossing his legs.

"I mean with you. You've been here, in hell, for how long?" Alfred asked rhetorically, not waiting for a response before moving on. "Angels aren't supposed to be here."

"So are we going to do something like Lovino and Antonio?" Alfred had granted them a house in the mortal realm where they could live in peace, and fulfill the promise that Antonio had made Lovino, all those years ago.

"No." Electric blue eyes locked with Arthur's own. "I have to run a kingdom, and you'll only get sicker the longer you stay down here as an angel. Don't think I haven't noticed how you stifle coughs when you think i'm not paying attention." Arthur guiltily stifled another cough, playing it off as a noise of disagreement. It was true that his strength had been slowly fading the past couple weeks that he had stayed with Alfred, but it was nothing major.

"Are you saying you don't want me here?" Hurt laced the angel's voice and Arthur sat up straight in the throne, looking at Alfred with a wounded glance.

"No no no Artiekins I love you!" the sweetdevil screeched in panic, realizing what his words might have been taken as. "I love you, and want you to be by my side. I'm suggesting that you undergo a minor, pretty painless procedure to make you... y'know, able to survive."

"Alfred, i'm already dead."

"Well dying again would really not be a heroic thing to do." A silence settled between the two of them as their eyes locked, blue pleading while green looked indecisive.

"Alright." Arthur finally whispered, sliding off of the throne and folding his wings protectively. Alfred gently took Arthur by his shoulder and led him out of the throne room, taking note of how fast the angel's heartbeat was, even though his face was a composed, if not slightly disinterested mask.

"Great." Alfred started, clapping his hands briskly and grinning as they entered his room, the other male taking a seat and crossing his legs slightly. "Let's get started. Shirt off."

Arthur recoiled. "Excuse me?"

"I need to have direct contact with where your soul is concentrated." The demon explained, gesturing toward his own chest. "So unless ya want fangs or some shit growing out of your neck... shirt off or unbuttoned." the Englishman scoffed but began to loosen his tie with deft fingers, pulling it off of his neck and throwing it in his boyfriend's face for good measure.

"Anything... else you need me to take off?" he asked, voice an octave lower than usual as he unbuttoned his shirt, revealing skin so pale Alfred doubted it had ever seen a day of sun in its life. Well, he was British, so it probably hadn't.

The American raised an eyebrow, lips curling up into an amused smile. "I'm definitely not going to say no-" Alfred broke off his sentence to duck as the Brit chucked a pillow at him- "But you don't have to. Well, unless you think with your dick like Francis does, then yeah please do." Alfred leered, appreciating how thick eyebrows knitted in annoyance and a sharp jaw was locked.