Angels in the Knight, Part 2

“Oy! Bakura!”

Yami weeded his way through the crowd, although, the crowd seemed to part from him like the Red Sea did for Moses. Crimson colored spiked hair with black and gold streaks crowned his head, his dark, blood-red eyes glowing gently, announcing that he recently fed. Bakura raised his crystal blue eyes to the speaker, and didn’t know whether to smile or snarl. He and the pharaoh had a history, one which he pushed from his mind long ago and tried not to remember. Bakura’s _expression finally settled to one of coolness, revealing no emotion towards this ancient daemon as he stood still, waiting patiently. Yami smiled smugly at the young changeling, knowing he caused him discomfort. He stood before him, one hand on hip.

“Well? Where have you been?” Yami asked, “You weren’t at the meeting.”

“You know I don’t care about those damn things,” Bakura answered sullenly; “I am no politician.”

“Yeah, you’re a fallen angel.”

Bakura snarled at him. Now he remembered why he disliked this daemon. Yami constantly reminded Bakura of his life as an angel, before he found freedom among the humans and the daemons. Bakura tossed his white mane haughtily, giving the pharaoh a nasty smirk.

“I may be a fallen angel,” Bakura replied sadistically, “But at least I get more ass than you, you self-centered prick.”

Yami blushed at his words, snarling loudly at him. It was true. Bakura was known as ‘Slayer’, a nickname which he is very proud of, because of all the daemons and humans he has every bedded. No one could match his power of seduction. The daemons couldn’t decide whether to call the young newbie a slut or a player, so finally, after a long debate, someone came up with the name ‘Slayer’; a combination of the two words. Yami made a move towards him, but Bakura easily side stepped the older daemon, laughing at him all the while.

“You’re getting slow Yami,” Bakura chided as Yami lunged at him once more.

“You may think that I am slower than you boy,” Yami snarled but then moved so fast that he had Bakura in a head lock before the fallen angel could blink, “But I have experience. A thousand years is nothing to me, you impertinent brat. You, Bakura, are still just a baby.”

Yami released Bakura, who snarled as he pulled away. The elder daemon laughed heartily at him, wiping away an imaginary tear, just to annoy him. A sudden silence passed throughout the hallway, making them blink.

“It stopped raining,” Yami announced in the gloom.

“I’m outta here then,” Bakura grunted and pushed passed the old daemon towards the darkness outside. The darkness that glistened and shimmered invitingly to humans, daemons…and even angels alike.

***

Gazing about the surrounding city below him, Malik descended upon the roof of a deserted building. He frowned slightly, scanning the area for a faint hint of light. Even a fallen angel’s wings emitted a heavenly light from their wings, despite what they had done. ‘Even though he killed all those people,’ Malik thought to himself, ‘Why does our Lord want him back? Why now after all these centuries?’ He shook his head, clearing it. Best not to question the things that higher beings do. It is not becoming of an angel of his status; he had a job to do. Unfurling his wings once more, Malik sprang into the air, looking down at the silly humans. He spotted a billboard with the latest fashion design on it and he smiled.

“If I am to search for him among the humans, I might as well dress the part for it,” Malik muttered.

Closing his eyes, his clothes seemed to rip away, revealing his naked body for a few moments, but then, as if an invisible thread was sewing everything back together, new clothes of the modern age replaced the flowing robes that he wore. Everyone stopped to stare at this handsome young man that suddenly dropped from the sky and began to walk away, unscathed and whistling. Men and woman alike blushed as he walked past, and Malik could only smile cheerily at them, unaware of what his heavenly looks were doing to the others around him. Malik walked on, whistling to himself and he rounded a nearby corner.

Bakura was walking along, minding his own business when he suddenly crashed into something warm and solid. That sudden force knocked him onto the ground, along with the other thing, and he sat up, rubbing his head.

“Watch were—“Bakura snarled, but he was interrupted by the creature.

“Oh my goodness! Are you alright? You’re not hurt are you?” said a tenor voice.

Bakura looked up into the eyes of the solid form that he collided with and he felt himself get warm. The other man’s eyes were a strange purple-blue color, and beneath them he had dark markings. His long golden hair fell into his face, and brushed against Bakura’s cheeks. He was wearing the latest fashion, meaning he was loaded, and his body was of heavenly design. Bakura moistened his dry lips with the tip of his tongue.

“I…I’m fine,” Bakura answered, gazing up at him.

Malik smiled at the young man before him, taking in his appearance. His hair was long and silvery white, reaching near the middle of his back. Crystal blue eyes shone through his hair that burned with rebellion. He was dressed in all black, giving him a mysterious look and Malik thought his body to be as lethal and as beautiful as a daemons. Malik extended his hand towards the man.

“May I help you up?”

Bakura took the soft hand that was offered to him and he felt a jolt run through his body. It was like his body was water rushing up to meet this man as he stood up. He couldn’t resist himself as he pinned the smaller man to the brick wall and planted a gentle kiss onto his mouth.