Royal Pair/AtoRyo/Angel AU/ Where Atobe is an angel but he would give anything just to have a second with a certain golden-eyed boy. Random Drabble. Note: Extremely cliché and fluffy. Disclaimer on profile.


Atobe doesn't know when it first started. But soon, it grew into a habit, meeting the boy with the amber hues every day.

The first time they meet wasn't even planned. In fact, it was the most unplanned encounter Atobe could ever remember him having. It could hardly be called an encounter, considering there was no interaction between them. He had been running horrifyingly late to his breakfast meeting with an acquaintance from the demon realm. As such, he decided to take a small, quick detour through the mortal world. It wasn't necessarily allowed or encouraged, but Atobe always did as he so pleased. His detour ended up to be neither small, not quick.

Flying swiftly and darting through crowds, he moves gracefully, entirely unseen by the busy people around him. He's been in the mortal world more than once, but has never been able to appreciate its inhabitants. They're clumsy, unbeautiful, and ignorant. He's about to duck out again when he sees him.

A small boy who looks young and cocky as hell. Emerald tinted hair, thin frame, arrogant smirk. But it was the eyes that really got him.

They're golden orbs, glowing with life. His dark pupils look like black diamonds eternally suspended within pools of amber. It's the first time Atobe ever found anything in the mortal world to be beautiful. He ends up stopping entirely and staring at the boy, who seems to be looking for something. Atobe is forced out of his dreams and pulled back to reality when the boy appears to have found what he came for, and instead directs that beautiful golden gaze to something in a display case.

That day, Atobe is ridiculously late for his breakfast meeting and ends up paying a feather or two for it, but he couldn't possibly care less. It was worth it.


The second time they meet, there's actually interaction between them. And it only pulls Atobe in further, lower, deeper. It wouldn't have been difficult for Atobe to visit Oishitari or Inui, both who know everything about everyone. It wouldn't have been difficult to find out the boy's name, his address, his birthday, his likes, his dislikes, his favourite colour, everything about him- his deepest secrets, his most desperate desires- and yet, Atobe can't bring himself to do it.

Because he wants the boy to tell him everything himself. In person, face to face.

And so, once again, he ducks into the mortal world. With his perceptive senses, it takes but minutes to locate the boy once more: he's playing some mortal game now, that involves hitting a yellow ball against a solid green wall. If it had been anyone else, Atobe would have found it ridiculous. Who could possibly find interest in a game like that? And yet, he found himself drawn to the movements, caught up in the dance, and all he can think is that the yellow of the ball can't possibly hold a candle to the colours swirling in the boy's eyes. Without realizing it, he finds himself landing and showing himself, tucking in and hiding his wings, though.

Immediately the boy spins around. "Who are you?"

"Atobe Keigo. And you?"

The boy seems suspicious before replying haughtily, "Echizen Ryoma."

And it all takes off from there.


That isn't their last meeting. There's a third, then a fourth, then a fifth, and so on, until they both lose track of everything. Gradually, Ryoma finds that he can't remember days where Keigo hasn't been there, flying next to him or wrapping his arms around his waist. Keigo on the other hand doesn't want to remember his days without Ryoma, playing that ridiculous game of his, tennis, and drinking disgusting purple liquid, which Atobe buys for him in bulk.

By the 15th meeting or is it the 20th, neither one of them can recall exactly when they became something more. Perhaps it started with the lingering touches and the flashing glances? Or was it the gentle eyes and feathery breaths? The lines between friendship and love are so far gone and blurry that Keigo doesn't even try to fight the euphoria he feels when Ryoma is near, and the magnetism drawing them closer, deeper, together. He doesn't know anything about Ryoma, and Ryoma doesn't know anything about him. Neither of them ever ask.


There's the lazy days, where they both lie in the shade under sakura trees, half awake, half asleep. Those are the days where Keigo's wings wrap around them both, Ryoma's arms drape across his torso, and their legs tangle together as they doze off, relaxing in the gentle nature breeze. They both love those days.

Then there's the busy days, where Ryoma has extended tennis practice, or an overtime shift at his part-time job in the drugstore. Or when Keigo actually has an assignment that he needs to complete, one set far, far away. Those are the days where everything is about speed and secrecy; stolen kisses in small alleys, quick touches and brief whispers. But they both love those days too.


They take it one step further, and before he knows it, Atobe is sneaking out every night to see Ryoma. They spend hours of darkness enjoying each other's presence, getting drunk on the life itself. But Atobe's personal favourite moments are the mornings afterwards, where they both wake up whispering sweet nothings, and his feathery white wings are sweeping softly over Ryoma's skin, draping across them both like a curtain of mist and snow.

By now Keigo knows everything about Ryoma: his favourite colour, his likes, his dislikes, his address, his name, his cat's likes and dislikes, his history, his story, his identity.

And Ryoma knows almost everything about him too: his history, his story, his address, his wings, his job, his favourite colour, his likes, his dislikes, his identity.

They've long become like one soul, knowing each other better than they know themselves.


But paradise never seems to last. Around Atobe, everyone is starting to wonder, to suspect. Oishitari asks him where he goes at night. Shishido asks him where he goes during the day. Hiyoshi asks him why he smells of mortals. Gakuto asks him why he always seems so distant. Jirou doesn't ask him anything, but Atobe knows he's watching.

It's becoming harder and harder to disappear into the mortal world, to cover his tracks and to return, acting like nothing has ever happened. And then Atobe figures it out.

He's becoming attached.

For an angel to become attached is a sin. And Atobe realizes, utterly, completely, totally too late, why rules about entering the mortal world were created. But he can't bring himself to regret it, because as soon as Ryoma looks at him, everything else around him vanishes.

Tucked under warm covers together, he feels Ryoma run his small, thin fingers through his feathers. He shivers, not from the cold.


They catch him, the council. They warn him. He ignores them. Because he will go to the ends of heaven and hell for even a second with his Ryoma, and he knows that the boy would do the same for him.

He's starting to lose his feathers. First it's just a few, scattered here and there. Ryoma begins collecting them, storing them all in a thin glass container. Except for one, which he sleeps with at night.

And then he begins to notice it, ever so slightly, when he sees his reflection in the mirror. The slight unevenness that should have bothered him vanishes from his mind as soon as he returned to the mortal world.

But he really figures out that he's running out of time when he begins to feel it in his flight. It's the first time his wings have shaken in centuries. He should have been scared, he really should have been. Losing your feathers is something huge in the angel realm. But he's not scared, or remotely worried. He's made up his mind.


Ryoma doesn't see Atobe for a day, two days, three, and then a week. He misses his Keigo. His arms, his hair, his eyes, his scent, his wings. But most of all, Ryoma just misses… him. He tries to understand, tries to move on, but it's impossible. Keigo has taken over his life so dramatically that Ryoma can't even imagine a world in which Keigo doesn't exist.

And then, just as suddenly as he was gone, he's back. Everything swings back to normal between them- the touches, the whispers, the endless time that passes around them. There's only one thing different about Keigo when he returns: the wings. They're gone, and in their place, Keigo has smooth shoulder blades, like a normal human. In fact, Ryoma wouldn't have been able to tell that they had ever existed, if not for the two faint white scar lines crossing Keigo's back.


They smile, and kiss, and smile some more. Then, the kiss, and smile, and kiss some more. They doze off under the Sakura trees in spring, and make snow angels on the pure white ground in winter.

And Keigo doesn't, can't understand how a fallen angel can still feel like they're flying.

Ryoma smiles.

Keigo begins carrying around a camera, carefully capturing each of their moments and freezing all of them, almost like stealing precious jewels from time.

And he knows. That this is all just a part of

The act of falling.

A/N: It's over. Overload of clichés and fluff but I love AtoRyo so much.