Azrael was standing in the kitchen, the warm noon light spilling onto the tiled floor. It caught the dust motes that spilt across the room as they were disturbed but his presence. They knew he was out of place.
This was not his kitchen.
Azrael still hadn't come to terms with the fact that Pavel had welcomed him into his home without a second thought. He was in Pavel's space, looking at the views he saw every day, breathing the air he breathed and feeling the lived-in presence that his warmth gave the decaying apartment. It was almost claustrophobic. No. No, it is very claustrophobic.
The outdated, faded floral wallpaper peeled from the walls and something that could be some sort of fungus seemed to spread from the damp corners of the ceiling. He couldn't even begin to guess how long that had been growing there, how mold-infected the air was. Spiderwebs, heavy with dust, crossed from cupboard to cupboard and flies buzzed lazily against the dirty, grimy windows. Caked on dirt that couldn't be cleaned, no matter how hard Azrael was sure Pavel had tried, stained every surface in sight. Azrael couldn't help but grimace at the thin layer of dust that was beginning to settle on his clothes, a side effect of staying so painfully still. It felt rude to pat it away while Pavel was watching him, so he let it be for the time being.
As Pavel stood before Azrael, with that perfect golden sheen swathing his form, it became painfully obvious how sorely out of place in this dreary, run-down room he was. Despite all that had happened to him throughout the years, Pavel had the air of someone who deserved a place of honour in the hallowed halls of some far-off land. A lord over people lesser than him, perhaps, but he had been dragged away from the life he deserved by the cruel, heartless embrace of uninterested fate. The colours he had plastered on the walls were still faded in comparison to him. He was captivating.
Azrael knew he couldn't stay there for much longer or he would end up spiralling down a peculiar thought path he wasn't able to understand in the slightest. Swallowing, he tore his eyes away from Pavel for a moment, needing to look at anything but him. Hurriedly, he pushed his meandering imagination to the side, but Azrael could still feel it lodged in the back of his brain like a splinter.
"Thank you for taking me home." Pavel gave Azrael an appreciative grin. His smile was no longer bloody after the previous day though it still shone out of a face marred with red-purple bruises. The skin would be vibrant and painful for days to come, probably the better part of a fortnight. Fortunately, the swelling of his left eye had lessened, only the shadow of a black eye left so it's vision was clear. "Would you like anything to eat?"
"You don't need to thank me so much. And no, I'm not hungry," Azrael answered exceedingly quickly, not wanting to take away whatever meagre food he probably had in store when he didn't need it. Feasibly, the swift response could come off as impolite, but he would rather Pavel not offer again to be courteous so he didn't feel obligated to agree. "I should get back."
Pavel hummed a low note, short and raspy in the back of his throat. He seemed disappointed that Azrael was leaving. "Is that so? Ah, well, I suppose I should probably get some extra hours in at work since I missed last night. I'll head out soon too."
Without thinking too hard, which seemed to be becoming a concerning pattern when around Pavel, Azrael spoke again. "Would you like me to walk you there?" He felt like biting his tongue off as soon as the words left his mouth. While Pavel had confided in him that he did sex work, Azrael was glad that he hadn't spilt the fact he knew he worked at the Lotus specifically because Pavel had only offhandedly mentioned it once two months ago and that could have come across as unsettling. Even if Azrael could play it off as having an excellent memory, which was true, he was glad that risk didn't rear its head. That was beside the point.
Pavel's head cocked to the side, his ears flopping with the movement as they stuck into the air at Azrael's question. He pursed his lips and raised his eyebrows in contemplation. If Azrael wasn't to acutely aware of his surroundings, he would have been startled at the speed Pavel appeared directly in front of him, his face as close to Azrael's as he could get when stood face-to-face. The way he tilts his head back to look at me properly is quite nice.
Azrael blinked at that thought, but he didn't have a moment to ponder what the implications of that was when Pavel answered. "I'd appreciate that. It's a rough part of town, even in the day, and a big, scary dragon escorting me would deter problems." He hit his fist against Azrael's shoulder, a glancing blow that barely registered against the scaly shield covering it. Pavel had become freer with his actions now, smiling a bit more and less hesitant to touch Azrael since that moment of weakness the previous day. Maybe he had come to see Azrael as a less imposing figure now that he knew some of what he'd gone through, which could be beneficial in the long run.
His face did its best to mould into a soft look, but Azrael knew that expression was probably only slightly less stern than normal. At the least, he was sure that Pavel was perceptive enough to pick up on his attempt at softness. "When would you want to leave?" Hopefully, he wasn't coming across as impatient because Azrael really didn't have any reason to be – there was nowhere that he needed to be other than just out of Pavel's line of sight later. The shadows had not yet deepened enough for him to hide within them at this time, even in the winter.
"It's what? 2pm? We can head out now, it's a good time to settle in before the busier times come around." Pavel looked at Azrael as if he was talking about an office job, something completely normal and above board. Azrael found it to be just shy of amusing but mostly saddening. Ironic, is that the word? "That alright with you?"
In an unnatural, jolting manner, Azrael nodded his head. Interacting for such long periods with someone had still not been something he had adapted to so he remained uncomfortably stiff. "Yes."
"Okay. I'll go get ready for work first." He whipped out of view astoundingly quickly. The door to what Azrael presumed was Pavel's bedroom snapped shut with a bang and he was left alone, standing in his kitchen.
The light beams kept tumbling through the window and all Azrael could do was think about the offer he had just put forward to Pavel. He had to walk him back into the jaws of the beast that kept hurting him over and over again and let him go without clueing him in to how much that terrified him. At the very least, Azrael's presence now could protect Pavel from something bad happening before he even got there. Nobody could jump him or beat him within an inch of his life on the streets like they had yesterday. Not really a comforting thought.
Azrael's head was impossibly heavy, unable to keep up with all that was filling it, so he permitted himself to lean forward and relax against the countertop. He gripped it tightly, so hard he almost left gauges in the wood, before letting out a large exhale. Gravity weighed too greatly on him all of a sudden – all he could do was droop his wings so they rested against the floor. His shoulders fell in tandem, slumping down. Azrael's rigid, beaten-in posture melted away into a lopsided, uncouth slouch.
Stop being so strange, Azrael. He'll notice. Notice what, Azrael didn't know, but he didn't want Pavel to know either. Caught in his thoughts, he had a rare moment where his surroundings fell away from him, a quiet hum of background noise to the screaming in his head. As Azrael leaned heavily against the countertop, he didn't realise that Pavel had returned until his hands clamped down on his hips. Startling and forceful.
It took all of Azrael's willpower to not lash out when Pavel startled him so heavily, his elbow stopping midway through its arc aiming straight for Pavel's skull – muscle memory was telling him that this was a sneak attack and this man was going to hurt him. However, Azrael's consciousness kicked back in at the last moment and yelled at him that it was Pavel, he wasn't a danger. It took a second to realise, his elbow inches from cracking open Pavel's skull. Azrael froze and dropped his arm to his side. It was rare for another person to be able to touch Azrael so suddenly and even rarer still for an unexpected touch to not be aggressive in one way or another.
"Oh. I thought you would jump." Pavel's exclamation was so straightforward and honest that it was almost endearing, but Azrael felt like he should nip this behaviour in the bud to avoid any accidents. He didn't know that he put himself at risk by doing that, his eyes obviously not catching the dangerous trajectory Azrael's arm had been on. Azrael was unsure how he missed it, but it didn't matter, really. A laugh danced around the edges of Pavel's voice as he said, "Boo, how boring."
Azrael sighed before turning around, Pavel's hands falling back to his sides. Gently, he crossed his arms and looked at the smiling man before he spoke. "I don't have a scare reflex," a lie, but Pavel didn't know that, "but don't do that. It's unpleasant."
While the reasoning was not entirely true, it wasn't completely false either, but Azrael could see that Pavel felt apologetic. His eyebrows crinkled and he nodded his head solemnly. Azrael noted that the bruises on his face were almost completely obscure, a thick layer of makeup seemingly having been applied. His cheeks were slightly rouged and a light layer of silvery glitter settled on his eyelids. "I understand. I won't do it again."
With little hesitation and zero consideration, Azrael reached his hand out and placed it between Pavel's ears on the top of his head, ruffling the silky, long hair there. "Don't look so worried." It hit him, after he spoke, that he was behaving very strangely. Azrael stopped dead, ready to retract his straying hand immediately when he noticed that Pavel had closed his eyes and his lips bore the hints of a satisfied smile, looking much like a cat who'd found the perfect spot to sunbathe in. Knowing that Pavel was quite happy at Azrael's uncharacteristically affectionate touch, he left his hand resting there for a few moments longer before finally dropping his hand down and tucking it into his trouser pocket. Awkward now, Azrael asked, "Ready to go?"
"Yeah, I'm all dolled up. You still alright with escorting me?" Pavel seemed nervous as he asked Azrael that as if he was unused to people going back on their offers of service to him. Don't kid yourself, the man has probably never had anyone sincerely help him in his entire life.
Azrael nodded. "Mhm, of course. Come on." As was the trend for the day, he did something uncharacteristic again - he brought up his arm and offered it to Pavel, somewhere between sincerely and in jest. A hesitant rusty smile danced across his face, but, as always, it didn't stick as he was still unused to pulling that expression so casually. Undoubtedly, Pavel was smart enough to be able to read that fleeting expression.
A moment passed and Azrael was about ready to just head to the front door with Pavel following behind, no contact between them at all, when Pavel's long-fingered, slender hand reached out and curled tightly around his still outstretched forearm. Pavel quietly took a step forward and pressed his side to Azrael's before looking up at him with his honey-coloured eyes, a glint in them Azrael couldn't figure out. "…Thank you."
It hurt Azrael's heart every time this pitiful man thanked him so earnestly – I'm just a dirty hand, I don't deserve it. Pavel's voice was so quiet, so small that Azrael was swamped with anguish when he heard it. How he's behaving is probably the nicest anyone has treated Pavel in recent times – perhaps his whole life – and it was clearly getting to him, even if he didn't express it entirety. Azrael said, "Of course. Let's go."
Swiftly, the both of them swept out of Pavel's building, using the stairs because they were only on the second floor and there was no guarantee that the lift would work. I've never trusted lifts anyway.
While Azrael had realised beforehand and noted it when he walked Pavel back to his flat, he was struck with how run down this area was, considering that only a few streets over was the pretty modern and well-to-do road that Azrael lived on. He looked down as he manoeuvred them past a mosaic of broken glass and discarded syringes, though Pavel almost lost his footing when he stumbled on a crumbling slab of pavement. Fortunately, as he was still holding onto Azrael's arm, he hardly missed a step as he leaned against him.
Once Pavel regained his barely lost footing, Azrael glanced down at him only to realise that he hadn't actually looked at the outfit he'd put on for work. Azrael's eyes danced across the golden man's form and he could feel his ears and cheeks growing slightly warm as he saw how positively see-through Pavel's shirt was. Does he walk around in that in this neighbourhood by himself regularly? Jesus, that doesn't seem safe. Blinking, Azrael looked away. He couldn't help but ask, "Is that what you normally wear to work?"
"Hm? Oh, the shirt?" Only when it's clean." His voice was clear and it didn't seem like Pavel was overtly joking or lying. Azrael didn't think that Pavel was senseless but it certainly couldn't be a good idea something so revealing. He piped up once more, breaking Azrael's panicked thoughts. "Or when I have a strong, handsome dragon keeping me safe?"
Pavel didn't have a chance to notice but there was the slightest hiccup in Azrael's gait when he said that, his foot pausing in the air for a microsecond before he brought it back down to the crooked pavement. Azrael wasn't overly surprised that the man was loose with his flirtatious comments – it was his job to make people want to pay to have sex with him – but Azrael definitely felt like it was a way to keep him at arm's length. Conversely, the man likely didn't know how to be anything but this, so it could be nothing. Not that I can claim to be an expert in being open and welcoming. "Just keep safe."
"…I know. I appreciate the concern, I really do." The playful tone in Pavel's voice receded entirely when he spoke this time, a sincere inflexion behind his words that encouraged Azrael to glance down at him once more. What shocked him the most was the slight flush that now tinted Pavel's make-up-covered cheeks, darker than the false rouge he'd already had, as he stared pointedly ahead, as if he thought he would dissolve if he looked at Azrael in the eye after being honest. "Generally, I do wear something that covers me and I change when I get to the Lotus. I just… feel safe because you're here."
Azrael blinked a few times, surprised but, ultimately, quite pleased. "Okay." There was not much more he could really add so they went back to being quiet as they walked the last few minutes to Pavel's place of work. A warmth wormed itself into his chest, settling lightly near Azrael's heart.
The closer they got, the more Azrael expected Pavel to drop his grip on his arm and walk separately, keeping a distance between them. There were going to be people he knew in that building and Azrael doubted he wanted them probing into who he was and why Pavel was holding him so close. Considering Azrael was walking him to the Lotus but would not be going in and that no one there would have ever seen him before – it would be hard to forget him, considering his notable appearance – they would undoubtedly want to know about their relationship. Close-quarters communities tended to gossip; he knew that much.
However, it felt like with every step they took, the closer Pavel pressed them together. His steps and Azrael's were so near it almost felt like they were becoming one being, so intimately entwined that he felt like his skin was going to melt onto Pavel's. This behaviour greatly confused Azrael as it seemed out of character but he was no expert in people so the psychology of these actions was completely lost on him.
Azrael didn't comment on it as he didn't want to make Pavel feel uncomfortable or make him think that he was particularly mindful of him touching him. Unsure how to respond, Azrael decided to press his arm tighter to his side, pinning Pavel's hand firmly against the curve of his chest in lieu of holding his hand in an attempt to comfort him. They were on the last corner before they stepped onto the road the Lotus was on – Azrael could see the top of the unlit neon sign now – and he accepted that Pavel would probably wait until the last moment to separate himself from Azrael.
A couple more minutes passed in silence and Pavel finally stopped walking once they stood in front of the building he worked in. It was actually the first time Azrael had seen the Lotus so close up, so he took the opportunity to really take in how it looked from this front-facing angle. It was an ugly, squat red-brick building that had probably been built in the '80s or '90s and subsequently left to rot.
Azrael sighed as he stared up at the crumbling bricks and that dirty exterior which gave him no hope for the state the rooms would be in. While Azrael was always worried for Pavel's safety, he felt it, now, transforming from just being about client hygiene and physical well-being into a deep concern over when the last time the building's inside had been properly cleaned. Looking at Pavel briefly, Azrael's stomach kept flipping at the thought of what illnesses the man could contract if he didn't already have something that just hadn't presented itself yet. Aware that he was spiralling, Azrael couldn't help but worry that Pavel could already be dying from some disease and Azrael would have no idea at all. He would have no way to aid Pavel at all.
My help really wasn't all that helpful. Azrael felt himself being swamped with self-hatred and disappointment at the fact he had been so short-sighted and ignorant. Their lives mirrored each other in many ways, but the one thing he had never experienced this severely was the poverty that Pavel had been living in for god knows how many years before Azrael had found him again. The poverty that he'd allowed Pavel to live in right before his eyes. The poverty that he'd allowed him to live, despite the fact that Azrael could have done something to change that. Fucking useless.
"Hey, Azrael." Pavel's voice sounded out. Azrael snapped out of his thoughts and looked back down at the man, pulling his eyes away from the middle distance he had been staring out at. Tilting his head to the side so he could look down, Azrael wordlessly invited Pavel to say what he wanted to say. "We're here."
Azrael's brows furrowed, confused by his stating of the obvious. Nevertheless, he nodded at Pavel's words and prepared to turn around and walk back to his place. Briefly, Azrael bid him farewell, "Seems so. I'll get going. Stay safe; feel free to come to me when you need."
Taking a step to the side, Azrael turned his body towards the end of the street that led towards his house but the slight movement he started was put to a stop when he realised that Pavel's hand was still holding onto him. His arm was now a bit outstretched as he continued to preserve their point of contact. Before he addressed Pavel's actions, Azrael glanced towards the doors of the Lotus, worried that people might be watching and this behaviour could potentially cause a hassle for Pavel but he couldn't see nor hear a single soul, so he finally spoke. "What's wrong?"
Pavel's gaze flicked between the daunting, hideous visage of the building that loomed above them and Azrael's undoubtedly blatantly confused face. It was like Azrael could hear his thoughts, unable to verbalise them as he opened and closed his mouth soundlessly. The man desperately fought to express himself and his instinct to keep his problems or requests to himself fought right back. Pavel tapped his fingers against Azrael's forearm scales in a messy rhythm as he let his hand drop down from where it had been on his upper arm.
Accommodating Pavel's struggle, Azrael stayed quiet, just watching him think as he didn't want to rush him into saying the wrong thing or make him calm up and run off. It was kind of funny, endearing, as Azrael observed his ears switching between standing upright and flopping down against his head but he was too concerned about what it was Pavel was going to say to even soften his furrowed brows.
As time went on in this unpleasant silence, Azrael reached up the hand that he had kept tucked in his pocket and rested it on Pavel's hand that still clung to his arm. Patting it slightly, Azrael's palm was tickled by the fur on the back of that golden hand. Finally, he broke the silence. "If you can't say what it is, show me?"
Azrael's suggestion seemed to spark something in Pavel's head. His ears pricked straight up and he looked at Azrael with a clear expression, an almost smile ghosting his lips. Azrael's eyes caught on the way his oversized front teeth pressed lightly against his lower lip before he felt Pavel's hand move down.
It slid down from where it had been trapped beneath Azrael's hand and down the rest of his arm until Pavel, unexpectedly, loosely linked his fingers with his and tugged Azrael forward into the Lotus.