Author's Note- Hey, you! Do you like gay angst, angels, and of all things unholy, USUK? If not, I totally respect that, my dude, but if you do...check out the companion piece I wrote - Waiting on Heaven.

Anyway, hopefully FOR THE LAST TIME, I put this story under some heavy editing. I will say when I first uploaded it, it SUCKED. But now, it sucks a little less.

If you never read this story before, forget everything I just said. Remember, this is a work of fiction, so the views/beliefs are NOT meant to attack or degrade religion or anything you hold dear. On a final note, I'm RusCan trash, so...yeah.

Limerence - The state of being infatuated or obsessed with another person.

Prologue

Late at night, somebody leaped from rooftop to rooftop in a tiny town. The full moon mingled with the steady glow of large, feathery wings from his back, taking him over the roofs in light strides. The night was quiet; people were sleeping and minding their own business. Unlike a certain someone making a lousy attempt to mimic his graceful steps with an ungodly and bulky body.

The angel's back was bare, and the white fabric against his body fluttered, enticing the night to capture a claw-full of soft feathers. Yes, the sentient cloud let himself fall into the typical struggle - black to white, dark to light, a demon to chase an angel - but surely, the Heavenly being laughed under his breath, too, as he found himself doing.

The demon skittered onto a steep roof, lashing his tail back and forth for balance as he struggled to pinpoint the angel's path. It grew erratic, zigzagging across yards and houses in no particular pattern. Maybe the angel was searching for something. He rumbled in excitement, giving his broad body a wiggle to brace and leap off of the roof.

Before he could get anywhere, loud flapping zoned on his backside, and he turned around, only for a glowing body to slam into him. He flew off of his perch, arms, legs, and wings flailing, and they plunged to the grassy ground below. His great weight snapped a cloth line with clothes dangling off of it, but he managed to land on his hands and toes.

Whatever struck the demon tumbled onto the grass. Sitting up, he gave the rope a small, curious tug before ripping free and tossing it aside. The weight flew into him once more, and he caught a glimpse of pale legs leaping over his head to land on his back. The body pressing his to the ground was much more daintier than he was, yet surprisingly strong.

The demon sneezed as grass blades tickled his face. "Hello, little angel! Nice night, yes?"

The angel snarled, "Why are you following me?"

"Skipping right to the interrogation?" The demon chortled when the hand on one of his horns pressed down harder. "Who said I was following you?"

"Your stench betrayed you."

The demon leaped from the ground, causing the angel to gasp and kick off his back. He whipped around to see a flash of light disappear over the rooftops. With a powerful flap of his own wings, he sailed over the closest house, announcing with a bright smile, "I think you are confused!"

The angel stood on the furthest edge of the roof, glaring in his direction with a fierce scowl, "Says the worm that has no business on the surface. How about you go back to torturing the souls of the damned?"

"That is not very nice of you! I always wondered what it was like to play with an angel!" A rough laugh ripped from the demon's throat as he pounced. The angel jumped off of the roof and back on it again, behind the demon, and delivered a swift kick to his rear end. As soon as his leg connected with the fiend's behind, he yelped and shoved away from the dense creature.

"Is that the best Heaven has to offer?" The demon twisted to swipe at the air, and the angel weaved between his swinging arms. "You are like one of those little glow bugs flying around!" A crazed smile puffed out his cheeks as another furious giggle escaped between his teeth. "Buzzing around, ducking out of the way! Do you not want to be squashed?!"

Avoiding a large and clawed hand from grabbing his wings, the angel leaped back, taking flight from the roof and gliding into the next yard. He grunted in urgency to flee when he heard the demon cackle in childish delight and jump to give chase. The angel folded his wings to slip between thick branches of a large tree, although the possibility of being impaled by one of the sharp twigs was a gamble he was willing to take. Clumsily scrambling to perch on a strong limb, he faced the demon, who hovered before the branches poking in all directions. He felt the prickles of triumph running up the base of his feathers as a vague expression of uncertainty washed over the fiend's features.

The angel let out a snort, "Are you done yet? If you do not mind, I have things I must do."

Without an answer, the demon dropped to the ground.

"What are you up to?"

The hellish creature leaped to grab the lowest branch. The angel yelled, scrambling from the deplorable thing. Twigs snapped. Branches violently danced from two squirming bodies. Although the thick feathers covering the angel's wings deflected most harm, the tree, furious at the disturbance, clawed any exposed skin as much as they did to one another.

The demon thoughtlessly swiped the back of his hand over a nasty cut on his cheek, too worried about bunching on a branch that bent under his weight, and jerked after the angel balancing own his own just an arm's antagonizing reach away. His leap abruptly stopped as a broken tree limb caught onto the elastic skin of his own wing. He thrashed from the stabbing sensation, and his glee-filled laughter choked off to building horror.

With a look of disgust, the angel ducked underneath his predicament and dropped to the ground. He spun around and scaled a wooden fence separating the houses, casting a scowl over his shoulder to his pursuer still stuck in the tree. Blood oozed from the cuts on both their faces and limbs, but getting impaled by a branch was not pleasant to feel, or even look at, whether or not this hellish creature deserved it.

In an attempt to escape his predicament, the demon thrashed, yanking away, but only achieved in tearing himself further with a high cry of pain. Only when the branch finished shredding to the bottom of his wing, he was free. He plunged, feebly covering his face with his arms as the branches put in their final attack before he hit the ground with a noisy thump.

The demon did not move. The angel fidgeted on the fence, suppressing the urge to investigate. The mess of shadows shuddered, picked up his head, and uneasily giggled past his aches, "It looks like this tree put up a better fight than either of us."

"The surface is no place for demons," the angel called out. "Why did you even crawl out of Hell?"

The demon lapped at the blood on his lip and lunged forward, trying to give chase as the heavenly being hovered so closely, but he landed face first in the grass. The angel still expected an answer, so he lifted his head, and managed, "I was just trying to have fun."

"To have...what?! Well, whatever sort of game you are playing ends now." The angel sourly suggested, "Go back to Hell. If you are still around by noon, I will be certain to make it so that you cannot return. Starting with your wings. What is left of them, anyway." He twisted and glided into the night air, and the dark skies overtook his ethereal glow as he soared further and further away.

"What is...noon?"

The hellish creature wreathed and wiggled around to inspect the damage on his wing with little success. He flopped onto his uninjured side behind the tree, sighing with exhaustion. He came to terms with his poor decisions of wanting something else other than Hellfire in his life with his tail lashing back and forth, the only motion he could express his anger and failure without pain. The cool yet soft grass offered a trivial relief to the burn, and he allowed his eyes to flutter close. The angel was looking for something; perhaps he would return eventually.

~.~

~BOING~

~.~

The scent of decaying leaves stirred into the bright sky. The demon softly exhaled, coming out of his deep, pain-induced sleep. Soft pitter-patters became louder, and his tail tip twitched in agitation. His wings quivered, an instinct to take off, but he flinched and hissed from the stabbing sensation shooting into his shoulder blade. The noises stopped, so he relaxed into the grass again with a small shudder from the fresh breeze.

The rustling noise picked up once more, growing dangerously close. The demon's eyes flew open, his pupils shrinking into slits. The world had suddenly become so bright. He leaped to his hands and knees in a quick motion, limbs trembling from the effort and lag of good-quality sleep. An unfamiliar stillness overtook his blood as he stared at the disturbance before him.

He had to immediately flee from the tiny creature, yet he was so small, it was hard to believe he was any threat. The...human - he supposed this thing was - tilted his head, wide eyes soaking in the sight of the beast before him. His fists nervously bunched the patterned fabric of his nightgown. After a few moments of neither moving from their positions, the boy took a step closer, slowly raising a small hand toward the demon, who flinched, and scooted away. The child frowned and opened his mouth.

"Mister, you are hurt."

The demon blinked in surprise, clinging onto the soft sounds. Another breeze teased the golden curls on the boy's head, and he caught a whiff of a warm and hygienic scent. The child looked like it, too, but this was no time to hunt. At that moment, the demon abolished any crude rumors he picked up in his time; most of them were based on old lore, spooked witnesses, and rumors born from boredom. A glimpse at the world above was considered a near death-sentence. The angels prancing around, so unabashed and fearless, made it so. His torn wing would vouch for this lesson that he learned that day.

So, they had to resort to imagination when it came to humans, yet this one was certainly not cavorting around his land, causing messes and destruction in his steps.

After clearing his throat, the demon nervously smiled. "Is it obvious?" He asked, not missing the way the boy's lilac eyes widened and gawked at his sharp fangs. "Are these words you can understand?"

The child slowly nodded, and drew closer again, pointing. The demon had to force himself to not shrink back and press against the fence as if the wood could spare him from the wrath that a tiny fist could do. "It tore."

"You should run along. Your mother would be worried..."

The boy looked to his feet.

"Or father...older sibling?"

The small human glanced up with a gasp. "My papa has something to help you!"

The demon started to dissent, but the child spun around and ran back into the rear of the bright house. Yellow. Such an odd and cheerful color. He let out a panicked growl, looking around the yard to somewhere to hide in case the boy returned with a bigger human. The door slid open again, so he skittered on all fours into a nearby wooden shed, scaling over anything inside and knocking over a bicycle. He curled up in the corner, breath catching as footsteps came closer.

The child stopped in front of the tree, and his arms cradled something tall against his body. He threw his head side-to-side, looking around in confusion from the demon's disappearance. "Where'd you go?" He turned to the shed, noticing the violet glints peering out from the shadows. The demon had forgotten to close the door in his haste. Usually, he was not so careless. The boy stepped toward the shack. "I found you something."

After a moment of silence, "Bring it here."

The child stared at his feet again, fiddling with a large bottle.

"You said it will help me, yes?"

Putting on a brave face, the boy stepped into the shed with a heave over the single stair. His feet pattered toward the hunched figure, and he held out the bottle. "Sometimes, when my papa says he had a bad day, this will help him feel better."

The hellish creature uncertainly reached a clawed hand out, grasping the narrow neck of the bottle. The boy surrendered the glass container with a hopeful smile. The contents sloshed around as the demon began chuckling. "If this is what I think it is...then your father is a smart man."

The boy's pleased expression morphed into one of horror when the demon tore the cork from the bottle and tipped the glass back. The liquid drained, not allowing any breath until it was all gone.

The demon took the now empty bottle from his face, and smacked his lips in content. "It has been so long since my last drink..."

"Papa said people become stupid if they have too much!"

"More like not enough," the demon snickered. Obtaining anything from the surface was difficult and expensive if brave enough souls were willing to do it, for a price of course. The harsh throbbing in his wing already seemed lesser. At least the steady bleeding had stopped throughout his slumber, leaving behind a fragile line of dried blood running up halfway of its height. Setting down the bottle, he laughed again, "That would be true...if I were a person, but you already know that, do you?"

The boy kept fiddling with his gown, "I think everyone who can smile and feel pain are people."

"Really?" The demon choked up, swallowing the remnants of any alcohol. Perhaps he drank that too fast. "That is a very nice thing to say!"

The child giggled, which was a lovely sound. Tiny humans were the best thing the demon had encountered so far on the surface! A small, nearly irresistible thought offered to bring the boy back to his home, away from the bright Sun, away from sharp trees, and away from cruel angels. His little voice broke plots, "May I touch your horns?"

"Touch my horns?" The demon echoed, taken back. He smiled, covering his surprise, "Only you, okay?"

The boy drew closer, and his breath was shaky as his small hand groped the thick horns curling from the side of the demon's head. He lowered his arm to give a slightly curved nose a tug, and squeaked when the demon shook with laughter. He gasped, his gaze latching onto the tail wagging back and forth.

The child scrambled over the demon's tucked legs and grabbed for it, yelling when the tail slithered from his outstretched hands. He spun around and followed. The demon managed to make him spin in a circle as he tried to get a hold of his tail, but the boy eventually caught on and flopped to the ground, huffing in defeat. "Why were you in my yard?"

"I was sleeping."

"That's a funny place to sleep!"

The demon shrugged. "I was tired!"

The boy giggled again.

"Mattie! Mattie!"

The child's smile fell into fright as he scrambled to his feet. "That's my brother!"

"Is that a good thing?" The demon asked, looking around the shed for anywhere better to hide without much success.

"Stay here!" The boy cracked open the door and slipped outside. The hellish creature flinched from the bright light and pressed into the corner.

The newcomer's voice was slightly whiney, belonging to another child, "Mattie! What are you doing outside by yourself? You know Dad doesn't like that!"

"I was with a friend!"

"Don't tell me!" The newcomer groaned. "It was one of your imaginary buddies, again, wasn't it!"

"N-no! This one is real!"

"That's what you say about the others!"

"Hey!"

"Whatever, come inside! Dad's making pancakes!"

"Pancakes?" The boy's voice raised in excitement. "Wait, I have to say goodbye."

A loud, dramatic sigh. "If you let your breakfast get cold, I'm going to eat it!"

A set of footsteps pattered away. A moment of silence passed before the boy opened up the shed door. "Um, mister, I have to go now."

"So soon?" The demon smiled sadly. The child pouted and nodded. "Very well. I would not want your...pancakes to get cold."

"Will I see you again?"

"Would you want to?"

A nod, and the demon smiled broadly. He looked around the dark shed, and said, "I may be able to do that." How exciting, an invitation to return to the surface! "To make it easy, I could leave a way of contact. Do you have anything I could use to draw?"

The boy pointed to the other wall. Various paint buckets and tools sat in the opposite corner. The demon reached for a container, scrutinizing unfamiliar words before using a flat claw to peel off the metal lid.

The child stepped away as several light blue splatters fell onto the wooden floor. He watched this visitor drag paint across the nearest wall with a concentrated expression. "What'cha doing?"

With a sideways glance, the demon began, "Whenever something or someone troubles you, whenever life is a little overwhelming, or whenever you are simply lonely, just call on me, and I will be sure to pay you a visit." He placed a hand on the boy's back, who stared at the circle with wide eyes. "Just think of it as payment for your kindness. I know vodka can be hard to come by."

All he had to do now was make it back to Hell with a tore wing, and without flying into another angel, or any humans that were ready to scream their heads off. However, the demon felt much better about the ordeal, and had something to look forward to when he made it back home.