Diego’s Dance with Death - 4. Two Brothers, Two Talks

Despite the Cupid’s objections, Diego said goodbye and walked over to the corner where he suspected the Angel of Death sat. The hooded figure stood up as he strode closer, but didn’t speak. He decided the best strategy was to ask directly.

“Azrael? Did you come to meet me? Or for some other reason?”

A shrug was his only reply.

“Can we talk? But perhaps not here, or the bar owner may never forgive me.”

Azrael nodded and held out their hand. Telling himself no Marine ever backed down from a challenge, Diego took it. Moments later they stood in the sunshine with a beautiful garden around them.

Stunned, he took in the flowers of every color, the majestic trees spreading their boughs above them, and the sounds of bees buzzing and birds chirping somewhere in the bushes.

Letting go of his hand, Azrael threw the grey hood back and met his gaze. Diego felt like his heart missed a beat, and he almost looked down to see if there was a silver arrow sticking out of his chest. But the sad, dark eyes of the Angel of Death held him captive.

“You’re an honorable man, Diego. I’m glad I recommended you for Guardian duty.” The low-pitched sensual voice sent a shiver up his spine.

“I…what? You’re the reason Sablo and I are Angels and not dead?”

“No, your integrity and protectiveness are the reasons you were chosen to be Guardian Angels. And your mortal bodies did die, but your souls were given similar, but better shells. Immortal, naturally, and with certain abilities needed for your new line of work.”

“Invisibility to humans, physical invulnerability, the ability to travel in time and space...and to see Death.”

“All humans meet Death, eventually.”

“But only once.”

Azrael silently assented, the handsome face impassive.

Diego took a deep breath, noting the sweetness of the air. “You…you said you recommended me…us?”

“Quite a large number of Guardian Angels ascend while dying from some heroic act. In most cases, the events are predictable, and Commander Ariel requests their exemption from the usual fate of human souls.”

Diego opened his mouth to ask what that was, but a stern look from Azrael prevented the question.

“In your case, no one could foresee the outcome of Sablo’s plan.”

“More like spur-of-the-moment craziness than a plan.”

“Indeed. I’ve come across such situations now and then, and I may, at my discretion, sequester worthy souls, and ask Ariel to confirm the suitability of the candidates.”

“Ah, I see,” Diego said, but he had a feeling this wasn’t the whole story.

“For you, my message to Ariel carried a strong recommendation to elevate you to Guardian Angel.”

“I…um, for both of us?”

“Just for you, but fortunately Sablo was suitable in his own right, so I retained his soul as well. I could see you’re inseparable from your brother.”

Diego felt a strong urge to hug the Angel who made sure he and Sablo stayed together. But he told himself he needed more answers.

“Did you, by any chance, also recommend me for Guardian duty involving all those poor kids?”

“Only Guardians with compassionate hearts are able to help them.”

“But most of them die or see their families die!”

“Yes. That’s why they need a special Guardian Angel to keep their hearts and souls intact.”

Diego wanted to shout ‘But what about my heart breaking?’. Somehow, completely different words fell out of his mouth.

“So, it’s not because you want to keep seeing me?”

Fuck! I can’t believe I said that. Good thing I don’t blush. Wait-a-minute – is Azrael blushing? And are they fiddling with the edge of their cloak?

“It did occur to me you would be eminently suitable.”

Taking a step closer, Diego noticed the long, dark lashes of Azrael’s downcast eyes. Is the Angel of Death male or female? Or perhaps both, to fit the mood they’re in, or who they’re with? Does Death have one-night-stands? Shit, Diego, get a grip.

“Suitable for what?” Those lips look very kissable. Will they be cold or warm on my…hold on, what the fuck am I thinking?

“Will you think less of me if I admit my duty to collect the innocent dead souls is made easier by seeing your handsome face and knowing you cared for them?”

“I hadn’t really thought of you as a person before.”

“Oh.” A world’s worth of weariness and disappointment lay in that softly-breathed syllable. Did the sunshine dim and the breeze chill? Diego’s heart stuttered and his gut clenched, but he refused to back down.

“But if you’d like to go on a date with me, perhaps we could get to know each other better?”

“A date?”

“Why not? It doesn’t have to be a meal and a movie. We can go anywhere you want. How about the geysers in Iceland or Mount Kilimanjaro? And in return, perhaps you’d like to show me round your amazing garden?”

“You like my garden?”

“Yes, it’s beautiful. And I’d prefer to meet the handsome Angel of Death here, where we can talk and relax, rather than have you stare at me over the dead body of some poor kid.”

“Dating Death won’t excuse you from your guardian duty.”

“I expect I can get used to that duty now I know I’m not failing, but actually helping those kids. And that my assignments aren’t an excuse for you to see me.”

A small headshake and another blush was the only answer. Once more the sun shone warmly on his back, and the soft breeze wafted a delicious floral scent across his face. Or was that Azrael’s scent?

Neither of them spoke for a few moments. Azrael’s gaze kept roaming from his face down to his feet and back. Is he…she…they checking me out?

“Do you like what you see?”

A nod and…was that a tiny smile?

“Will you go on a date with me, then? No expectations and no pressure.” And no fucking silver arrows, please.

“I’d love to go on a date with you. Tonight?”

“No, tonight I’m visiting my brother and his partner, Theo.”

“Oh. OK.”

Diego decided he didn’t like it when Azrael’s voice got all pinched and sad. It made him want to take charge of a volatile situation and find a solution.

“Why don’t you come with me? I’m sure there’s enough food for four. Just let me send them a text, since I’m running late as it is.”

Diego dug out his phone and stared at the screen in consternation. “What the fuck?” No time had passed since he and Azrael left the bar, and he had zero connection. The latter hadn’t happened since he’d been issued the Guardian Angel version of a cell phone after his second-to-last update about human society almost two decades ago. He was due for another one soon, and there were rumors about shifting to updating Guardians every five years rather than at ten year intervals, due to the rapid changes in technology and society.

“My garden is outside of time and space. We can spend as much time as we want here, without being late for your dinner invitation.”

“Well, that’s convenient. Theo and Sablo keep getting in trouble for being late, because they spend too much time…um, yeah, never mind.”

“We’ll go back to the bar and you can send your message once we arrive.”

“Cool, I left the red wine I bought. We can pick it up and walk to Sablo’s place if he’s remembered to text me the address.”

“Are you sure they won’t mind me joining you?”

Diego held out his hand and smiled. “Absolutely. In fact, Sablo urged me to ask you out.” And he can damn well put a nice face on the consequences.

***

With a box of cake in hand, smelling enticingly of orange, chocolate, and ginger, Sablo appeared in their living room with the slightest ‘pop’ sound.

“If you think you can sneak up on me, think again!” Theo yelled from the kitchen.

The Guardian winced, when he heard the chopping noises becoming even louder. Entering the room, he saw Theliel standing with his back to him, enthusiastically massacring innocent vegetables with a large knife. Sablo walked over to him, after placing the box on the island in the middle of the kitchen. He snaked his arms around Theo from behind, and pulled him against his body. “Darling—“

Next, he found himself facing an irate Cupid as Theo turned and brandished the knife in his face, dripping with something red. A quick gaze over Theo’s shoulder told him it was just tomato juice.

“So! Where is this always-busy brother of yours?” Theo made a show of looking around for Diego.

“I-I invited him to dinner tonight.” Sablo carefully pushed Theo’s wrist away removing the knife from his face.

“Good!”

“I brought your favorite cake from this great bakery in London.”

“Hmpf.”

“What are you making?”

Theo actually growled. “If I knew your brother better, or at all, I would’ve made his favorite meal. Now, I’m cooking my favorite: vegetarian lasagna.” A small, evil grin appeared on his face. “No meat for you tonight, Darling.”

“B-but, Darl—Baby.”

“Why didn’t you want me to meet your big brother? Are you ashamed because you’re bound to a Cupid?”

“What!? No!”

“Then why?”

Sablo took a step forward and cupped Theliel’s face with his right hand. “It’s because of me. He knows all the shit I got myself into, in the past, and loves to embarrass me with it. I was afraid you would…you would—“

“By ‘shit’, do you mean your past lovers? Or what you did in the club you don’t want to take me to? Or the dangers you encountered by storming into dicey situations? Risking your and your brother’s lives without care, because it was the right thing to do? Or your disparaging opinion about the flighty Cupids? Or—“

“All of it?”

“I’m so looking forward meeting Diego.”

“That’s exactly what I was afraid of.” Sablo leaned closer, nibbled along Theo’s jaw, before he bit into his earlobe. “Any suggestions of what I could do to make up for my mistakes?”

Theo frowned, took a step back, and pretended he had to think hard about the matter, tapping his finger against his own lips. “Maybe.” He put his hand on Sablo’s shoulder, pressed down, until he had him on his knees in front of him. “Any ideas yet?”

Sablo reached out, teasingly running the tip of his finger over the visible bulge hidden by faded denim, before he slowly opened the zipper.

“That’s it.”

Slipping his hand in Theo’s pants, Sablo wrapped his fingers around the hard length, squeezed, and pulled a long moan from his lover.

Later, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as he thought about taking this into their bedroom, when his gaze fell on the clock of the microwave. “Shit, it’s late! I promised Diego I’d text him our address, and it’s almost time for him to be here.”