time to upload all those old ass twewy fics from way back when. expect one of these every couple of days for the next week or two. also, this is pretty much just gratuitous hanekoma/minamimoto. nothing particularly graphic though. :B


Fall From Grace

Sanae Hanekoma had apparently forgotten one of the most important rules of living in a city. Never, under any circumstances, ever allow a madman to know the whereabouts of your place of work or residence, especially if they both happen to be the same little coffee shop.

The Angel didn't even jolt as the madman in question, one Sho Minamimoto, came storming in with death in his golden eyes. He threw a black hardbound book on the table Hanekoma was seated at and leaned down to snarl in the other man's face. "Just what the factor do you think you're trying to pull?"

With how much caffeine Hanekoma put back everyday, it was a complete mystery how he managed to stay so incredibly mellow. Even when face-to-face with a ticking time bomb slowly counting down to zero, he hardly batted an eye. The same, however, could not be said for his customers. A pair of wannabe hipsters and a studying college student (it must have been a very busy day) all gaped at the strange looking man. Hanekoma lowered his coffee mug and simply said, "Out," imprinting the thought onto the customers. He gave Minamimoto a look, silently telling him to keep his mouth shut until they were alone. A sneer curled the Reaper's upper lip, but he grudgingly obliged. He straightened and folded his arms across his chest, looking like an overgrown, pouting child.

Under Minamimoto's hateful glare, the three customers quickly gathered their things and evacuated the coffee shop. Holding his fingers up in a 'two seconds' gesture, Hanekoma stood and neatly sidestepped Minamimoto to lock the door behind them. He moved to lean against the counter, coffee cup still in hand. "You got a problem, or do ya just enjoy scarin' off my customers?"

It was surprising that Minamimoto had actually waited, given his characteristic abundance of energy and impatience. Despite the wait, he hadn't lost any steam. "Your book is garbage! You must think I'm zetta stupid if you expect me to erase myself."

"Now, now, you of all people should know that erasure is usually anything but permanent." Hanekoma fought the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. Despite his casual and relaxed demeanor, Minamimoto's appearance had him on edge. He'd already fucked up once, in revealing the Composer's RG identity. After selling the book to the Reaper, he'd hoped that he could just sit back and watch things unravel. He definitely hadn't expected Minamimoto to come storming into the café.

It'd be incredibly inconvenient of Neku and Joshua chose this moment to stop by as well.

The Angel settled for nonchalantly adjusting his sunglasses. "The sigils for summoning Taboo Noise worked, didn't they?" Minamimoto grumbled in assent. "Besides, it's not like ya got anything to lose. You can't take out the Composer as is. And following Him into the Real Ground worked so well, after all—"

Minamimoto did not take kindly to the reminder of his failure. Suddenly, his face was millimetres from Hanekoma's; his hands gripped the counter on either side of the older man. "I know what you are, you hectopascal. Wouldn't it be a shame if the Composer found out what you were up to, Mr. Producer?"

Hanekoma was at a disadvantage, leaning back against the counter. Considering that and the fact that Minamimoto already had a few inches on him, to his credit he did not pull back. He stared at Minamimoto with no fear—and it wasn't just an act. "Good, you can put two and two together." Anger flared in the golden eyes and Hanekoma sprung. In the blink of an eye, their positions were reversed, and the back of Minamimoto's head smacked roughly against the countertop. The awkward way his back was arched had to hurt, but the Angel kept him pinned with his hips and a firm hand on his shoulder.

The expression on Hanekoma's face was deathly serious. "I don't take kindly to threats, by the way. The Composer can't even take on an Angel, kid. I wouldn't suggest that you try." He punctuated his words by pressing his hips sharply into the Reaper's. Minamimoto hissed through gritted teeth, but whether it was because of the pressure the movement had placed on his lower back, or some other reason, Hanekoma wasn't sure. But either way, the kid needed to be put in his place. Hanekoma's hand drifted down in between them and cupped Minamimoto's crotch. He massaged roughly through the trousers.

"If the Composer wanted you gone, He'd do it Himself. And I sure as hell don't need to go through all this to make you disappear and have it look like an accident." He undid the fly of Minamimoto's pants and snaked his hand inside. Somehow, he wasn't surprised at the fact that the Reaper went commando. His skilled hand quickly brought Minamimoto to full hardness.

Minamimoto didn't fight against Hanekoma's ministrations, but squeezed his eyes shut and grunted softly as the other man's hand worked his erection. Light perspiration formed on his brow; Hanekoma smirked coldly and quickened his tempo. "Without my help, you don't stand a chance against Him."

One golden eye cracked open to glare up. "You're out of your vector."

"Calculate your odds. They're not looking good."

After a few more strokes and another grunt from Minamimoto, it was all over. Hanekoma wasted no time in removing his hand and releasing the Reaper. He eyed the semen on his hand with faint distaste and moved behind the counter to wash it off. "I'd suggest Udagawa for the refinement sigil. It's out of the way and most likely won't be messed with. They'll think it's just more graffiti." He threw a spare rag at Minamimoto. "And clean yourself up."

Minamimoto winced as he straightened up and tucked himself back into his pants—his back had to be hurting. He threw a snarl at the Angel. "Divide by zero." Nonetheless, he used the rag to wipe the sticky mess from his stomach.

Once he was done, Hanekoma retrieved the book from the table and shoved it into Minamimoto's chest. "Now quit wasting time, and don't fuck it up." He moved to the door and unlocked it, then held it open for the Reaper.

Surprisingly enough, Minamimoto said nothing; merely gave Hanekoma one last angry glare, and then left the coffee shop.

Once the door had shut, Hanekoma sighed and went to pour himself a fresh cup of coffee. He really wasn't cut out for this Fallen Angel gig. He hated the lying, the sneaking, the manipulative bullshit. But he had no choice if Shibuya was going to survive; even if he wanted to back out now, it was too late, way past the point of no return.

Just ten more days. Ten more days and for better or for worse it would all be done.

As soon as he sat back down, his phone started ringing. "Figures," he muttered to himself before answering. "Yello?"

And despite everything, even the fact that he was attempting to bring about His downfall, Hanekoma couldn't help but smile at the familiar voice. "Hey, Josh."