Heaven Sent

[astrangestorm]

Title: Heaven Sent
Rating: PG-13
Characters/Pairings: Matsumoto Jun/Aiba Masaki; Becky
Summary: When Jun reluctantly meets Aiba one night, he loses a scarf but gains a supernatural bodyguard. A supernatural bodyguard in ugly sweatpants.
Notes/Warnings: My je_holiday story for bubbly. Aiba/Jun!



It was cold. Way too cold for December. Jun was just glad he’d worn a heavier jacket. It was his own dumb fault for thinking that walking home was a fine idea. It had been stuffy inside the show with all the camera flashes going off and the heat in the venue turned way up to keep the models in their skimpy clothes warm.

So when he’d left, the cool air had been nice. But now that he’d been walking for so many blocks, it was freezing. No gloves, so he had his hands shoved as far into his jacket pockets as they’d go, and the scarf he was wearing was more fashionable than practical. Oh well, Jun thought. Lesson learned.

He was still about a mile from his apartment complex, just crossing over the small bridge that spanned the river when a sharp wind snapped its way between the buildings and straight down his spine. His scarf decided to part ways with him at that moment, detangling from where he’d loosely wrapped it around his neck.

“Oh, damn it!” he gritted out, watching it take off and coast on the breeze. It fell over the metal bridge rail and out of sight. It hadn’t even been an expensive purchase, and hunting it down would just keep him from his nice, warm apartment. But Jun didn’t always act logically.

He peered over the edge, spying the cloth flapping in the wind just underneath him. It seemed as though the scarf had caught on some metal piece underneath the bridge. All he had to do was clamber over and yank it free. Jun considered himself pretty athletic, so he did what made perfect sense in his mind. He hoisted himself over the rail, resting his feet on the narrow bit of concrete between the rail and nothingness.

“Wait! Stop!”

All he had to do was hold the rail with one hand (and damn, it was cold) while he crouched down to pull the scarf free. He was lucky it hadn’t flown off completely and into the river below.

“Stop! Don’t do it!”

He crouched down, reaching out his fingers, catching the thin, cotton material. He just had to grab hold...

“Noooooooooooo!”

And then Jun cried out as a hand clamped down on his shoulder. The scarf loosened and floated off on the wind. “Noooooo!” Jun cried, mirroring the other voice he’d heard.

But it didn’t matter. The scarf was lost, and some guy was trying to pull him back up, yanking on his arm uncomfortably. “Please!” the guy was screeching, and probably causing quite a scene if anyone else was out wandering in the neighborhood. “Please don’t do it!”

“Do what?!” Jun shouted, the scarf completely gone from his sights. He got back up, coming face to face with the man on the other side of the rail. “Who the hell are you?”

The man was still holding onto him for dear life, puffs of warm breath hitting Jun’s face as he pleaded with him. “Please, life is worth living!”

Jun tried to shake the other guy off as best he could considering his hands were freezing and he needed to climb back over the railing. “The hell are you talking...” And that was when Jun realized it.

To Jun, he was just going over the side to pull his scarf free. The scarf he’d now lost, thanks to this idiot.

To anyone else who’d seen him, yeah, it probably had looked like he was trying to kill himself. Although he didn’t know too many bridge jumpers who crouched down and tried to retrieve their scarves before ending it all.

The other guy would not let him go, and he was shaking Jun by the shoulders. At this rate, Jun would end up in the water - and it would probably be manslaughter. He tried to lift his leg to climb back over. “Would you stop? I’m not trying to kill myself!”

“That sounds like a cry for help,” his “savior” said quietly.

“Well, it’s not. My scarf got stuck under there.” Finally, the guy relented and Jun made it back over the railing without falling to his most certainly unintentional death.

He eyed the man suspiciously. He had on a bright green track jacket with some baggy sweatpants - even under the streetlights, the guy’s clothing was obnoxious. He definitely hadn’t come from a fashion show like Jun had. But there was little time to criticize a stranger for making terrible clothing choices. It was cold, and he still wasn’t home.

Jun turned and headed straight back in the direction of his apartment. “Thanks for your help,” he grumbled, wondering if he should demand the guy replace his scarf. But that just meant more talking with this guy and his track jacket, and he wasn’t feeling like it when he’d nearly fallen into the cold river.

“Wait!”

Of course, Jun thought. Now he wanted to be friends.

“Wait, I said!” The guy jogged after Jun, and he had long legs so keeping up was no problem for him even if Jun tried speed walking. “Hey, come on! I saved your life!”

“My life wasn’t in danger,” Jun reminded him, disappointed when he had to pause and wait for the traffic signal to change at the next intersection.

“Well, what if you’d slipped while trying to get your scarf?”

Jun crossed his arms, staring hopelessly at the blinking orange signal. “I wouldn’t have slipped. I had it in my fingers.”

“It was still a dumb thing to do.”

He ignored the guy. Maybe if he stopped responding, the guy would give up and go back to whatever convenience store he’d probably been reading porn in before “saving” Jun’s life.

“Like, if you’d fallen in the river and I hadn’t been here, what if nobody else heard the splash?” the guy continued anyway. Talking was one of the guy’s strong suits, Jun was learning. “So then you’d drown. Obviously you’d drown, and they wouldn’t find you right away. And you’d be a bloated corpse, and you’d wash up on the riverbank and school kids would poke you with a stick and all this dirty river water would come out of your mouth, and you know, when you die you obviously lose all bowel control, so the kids would smell all your nasty dead guy poo and...”

Jun turned around, infuriated. “My god, what is wrong with you?!”

The guy smiled, scratching at his frizzy brown hair. “But don’t worry. I saw you.”

The traffic signal changed, and Jun picked up the pace. “Stop following me.”

“But what if you do something incredibly dumb on the way home?” the man inquired. “I mean, climbing over the railing to get a totally replaceable scarf? Walking out in the cold with such a thin jacket? I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I heard on the news tomorrow about some idiot with big eyebrows dying in the street from hypothermia.”

Jun ignored the crack at his eyebrows’ expense. “I don’t live that far from here. And since I don’t know you, I don’t think I’d like you to know where I live.”

“Oh, I’m not a stalker,” the guy said easily, as though he’d said he wasn’t a Pisces.

“That’s comforting.”

“And I’m not a pervert either. Well,” the guy paused, laughing in this strange, scratchy cackle. “Not like a pervert who gets arrested for shaking his wiener in public.”

Jun finally stopped, turning to grab his new oversharing friend by the shoulders. “Look. I shouldn’t have gone over to look for my scarf, okay? I have no intention of dying tonight or any night in the near future, from hypothermia or anything else. So would you please please please go away?”

Jun had a lot of work to do. His deadline was noon tomorrow, and he was losing valuable writing time by dealing with this moron.

The guy ignored his pleas. “Do you have a spare room?”

Jun kept walking.

“Hey, come on, really. I’m not creepy. I just...I just don’t have anywhere to stay right now. Honest!”

Great. So his savior was not only rude and touchy-feely in Jun’s personal space and chatty, but he was homeless and looking for a hand-out. “There’s a police box just around the corner. You’d do well to go away before I report you.”

“Oh come on, Jun. Seriously. You’re being very difficult!”

Jun turned on his heel, the hairs standing up on the back of his neck, and he shivered more from being creeped out than from the cold. “How the hell do you know my name?” He felt around in his pocket for his keys, closing his fist around them in case the guy tried anything.

But his new friend only sighed, rapping himself on the head in admonishment. “Stupid, stupid.” The guy looked up, embarrassed. “Okay. So I know who you are.”

“How?”

“Because you’re my assignment.”

Jun was equal parts creeped out and curious. He was a fashion reporter for a magazine. Average employee. He paid his taxes and paid all his bills on time. Average citizen. Why the hell was someone assigned to him? Like, from the police? Or the government? Did they suspect him of something? He did have his fair share of illegally downloaded songs...

“What do you mean your assignment?”

The guy looked away. “Well, I’m not supposed to say...”

“...but it looks like you’ve already given yourself away.” And Jun wanted to know who’d gone to all the trouble of sending someone after him. “Look, if you tell me why you’re following me, then I’ll let you come in for a cup of coffee.”

The guy nodded. “Fine.”

They walked the rest of the way in silence. Which was kind of startling for Jun after all this time hoping the guy would shut up already. If he already knew Jun’s name, knew where to find him, then maybe it didn’t really matter in the long run if he came into Jun’s apartment.

He quickly got a pot of coffee going as his guest settled himself a little too comfortably on the sofa, propping his socked feet on the coffee table. “You have a nice TV,” his guest pointed out, and Jun said nothing, grabbing two mugs from the cabinet.

Jun brought the steaming drinks into the living room, pointedly settling them on coasters. His guest made no motion of moving his feet off of Jun’s furniture.

“So. I’ve let you inside. I’ve even given you something to drink.” Jun really just wanted to change out of his clothes from the show. And he had his article due by noon, but he wasn’t doing anything else until he knew precisely what this weirdo was after him for.

“When you said I’m your assignment, what did you mean? Am I under investigation for something? I don’t plagiarize, for one thing. And for another thing, I don’t have anything to hide!”

The man smiled. “Of course you don’t, Jun. You’re kind of perfect.”

He was a little creeped out by the flattery. Maybe this guy was just after his money. Not that he had a lot of it. “That’s nice. Now cut the crap.”

“But you wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” the guy said, wiggling his toes within his socks. “Really, you wouldn’t!”

Jun sipped his coffee. “Fine. Then drink the coffee and get the hell out of my apartment before I call the police.”

“Okay, okay, fine.” The man leaned forward, and even if he was a little strange, he had a big, caring smile that seemed pretty genuine. If Jun had to guess anyway.

Jun leaned forward in his chair until he and his guest were only a few feet apart. “Well?”

“I’m your guardian angel.”

Jun set down his mug and leaned back. “Okay. Get out of here.”

The guy got to his feet, rolling his eyes. “I told you you wouldn’t believe me, but you demanded I tell you!”

Jun picked up his guest’s still full mug. “I’m pouring this down the drain. By the time I’m back from the kitchen, you should be gone.”

The so-called guardian angel grabbed him by the arm, and Jun was astonished by how tight the man’s grip was. And he had held on pretty damn tight back at the bridge too. “Jun. Seriously. I’m not making this up.”

“Prove it,” Jun said. He held up the mug. “Do something angel-like to this coffee.”

His guest’s eyes narrowed. “Angel-like?”

“Well? Can’t you?”

The man looked just past Jun’s shoulder. “See, I told you he wouldn’t buy it if I told him straight out. That’s the last time I take your advice!”

Just as Jun was about to convince himself that this man was not only annoying but had an imaginary friend, he heard another voice coming from the direction of the chair he’d just vacated.

“Well, of course not. You have the face of a moron nobody would believe.”

Jun whirled around to see a young woman about the same age as him and his guest. She had on clothes as equally strange as his stalking angel weirdo - a bright pink and yellow sun dress with blue tights and daisy-decorated sneakers. Not to mention how strange it was that she was suddenly inside his apartment.

“What...” Jun gasped, nearly spilling the coffee on the rug. “How did you...who are...what?”

She got to her feet, although the top of her head barely made it to Jun’s shoulder. “Aiba-kun has misled you, Jun. As is typical for someone of his status.”

“Hey!” the man, apparently Aiba-kun, cried.

Jun sunk down to the sofa, setting the mug on the coffee table once more before he passed out. “Can someone please explain what the hell is going on? How did you get here....I was just...sitting...”

She sat down beside him, linking arms with him while Aiba sat on his other side. “I’m Becky. As previously noted, that’s Aiba. Aiba Masaki. Well, that’s what his vessel was called when he was still alive.”

“Vessel...wha...”

“Becky, you are totally screwing this up for me,” Aiba complained, and Becky just smirked.

She tightened her hold on Jun. “Listen, Jun. It’s true. We’re angels. Well, to be completely forthcoming with information as you’d prefer, I am an angel. Aiba-kun is...well, I don’t want to say he’s a trainee...”

“I’m not a trainee!” Aiba screeched.

Becky grinned. “He’s on probation.”

Jun was confused. Now he had two crazy people in his apartment, and despite this girl being so small, her grip on him was just as tight as Aiba’s had been. “Angel...how...”

“Well, if we were in our true forms, you’d probably burn up from all the celestial energy. No offense, but your little meat casing of a body can’t handle it,” Becky explained.

“Becky, you’re just making things more confusing for him!”

“Well, if you hadn’t botched the rescue, you wouldn’t even be here right now!”

“I didn’t botch anything! He just didn’t actually need saving at that point in time.”

“Uh, making yourself known to him is botching. Should I go get a dictionary? Will I find ‘Aiba Masaki’ under ‘botch’ because I’m pretty sure I will...”

Jun shut his eyes. “Stop. Stop stop stop, both of you just...” He let out a scream of frustration and wrenched out of their grasp. “Stop!” He pointed at Becky. “You! How did you even get here?”

She smiled. And then disappeared. And then reappeared almost as quickly behind him, poking him in the side. “Boo!”

And of course, because people aren’t supposed to appear and reappear at will, Jun let out a screech that was far from manly. He stumbled away from both of them, wondering if maybe he’d really fallen off that bridge and died because this couldn’t be real.

Aiba stood up hesitantly, scowling at Becky. “You’ve just made things a million times harder for me.”

She stuck her tongue out at him.

“Look, Jun. I’m Aiba Masaki. At least in this body I am. The real one died, and I took over. But don’t worry, he didn’t feel any pain.”

“Are you...here to kill me?” Jun asked.

“No!” Aiba said, waving his hands frantically. “No! Of course not! I’m just...I’m not explaining myself that well!”

“Hence the probation,” Becky teased.

Aiba glared at her before turning back to Jun. He held up his hands in a rather universal sign of peace. “I’m a guardian angel. On probation. Because I...let the last person...umm...”

“Die,” Becky finished for him.

Jun gulped.

“But I won’t let that happen to you, Jun, I swear,” Aiba said. “I promise to look out for you. That’s why I found you on the bridge. And it’s why I asked to stay with you. I’m really not a stalker. I just...have to be near you. All the time.”

“And that’s not a stalker?” Becky snorted.

“I just have to keep you safe,” Aiba continued. “And this woefully unhelpful person is Becky. She’s my...”

“Probation officer,” Becky finished again.

Jun pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. He didn’t know why he was buying into all of this, but Becky’s little disappearing trick had been no joke. And their strength definitely wasn’t human.

“Okay. So you can pop in and out of being and you stole someone’s body to...be in human form or something and you have to protect me...why?”

Aiba looked away and blushed.

“We pick who to protect,” Becky explained. “It’s not much fun if we don’t really like the person we’re watching out for. So after Aiba-kun’s...previous...after all that happened, he was demoted. My boss let him pick someone new to watch out for, and if he protects you from danger successfully, he may get his full powers back.”

“Your boss?” Jun asked.

Becky and Aiba simply pointed upwards, and Jun felt queasy.

“I’m...” Jun started, feeling rather overwhelmed by this. He had a guardian angel in ugly sweatpants in his living room. “Well, I’m...flattered that you think I need to be watched and all, but I’m just a writer. I write articles for magazines. I go to fashion shows. I blog about Japan’s Next Top Model. I’m not exactly in a high risk line of work.”

“Everyone needs protecting,” Becky said. “Sure, some more than others. But as I said before, we picked. And Aiba-kun picked you because he saw something in you, some part of you that he wanted to protect.”

“You’re making me sound really creepy,” Aiba protested, but Jun saw that he was still red in the face.

A notebook and pen with a little pink pom pom suddenly popped into Becky’s hands. Jun would have been surprised, but the disappearing act from earlier trumped that pretty well.

“Okay Jun, since Aiba’s already gone and spoiled the surprise, let me go over the contract with you.”

“Contract?” Jun sputtered and suddenly the pink pom pom pen found its way into his own hand.

Becky set the notebook on the table. “It says here that you, Matsumoto Jun, are hereby under the protection of...well, let’s just use Aiba Masaki since you can’t pronounce his celestial name anyhow.”

Aiba sat down in a huff. “Stop confusing him.”

The pages in the notebook were covered in writing so small that Jun could barely read it. “And the contract lasts until Aiba here saves your life, thus redeeming his own good name upstairs. Don’t worry, Jun. You’ll find more than enough money in your bank account to cover Aiba’s living expenses. After all, so long as he’s here with you on Earth he’s as human as you or...” Becky looked around. “You. Anyhow.”

“Wait wait wait...he’s living here?”

“It’s why I asked if you had a spare room,” Aiba admitted, running his hands through his hair nervously. “I didn’t want to impose! I...I really thought it was all going to be done back at the bridge, honest! I would have left you alone! That scarf thing really was a dumb move.”

“But...what if I’m never in danger?! What if my life never needs saving?”

Becky and Aiba exchanged a glance before Becky grabbed Jun’s wrist and pushed the pen against the dotted line. “Then you’ve got free heavenly protection for the remainder of your natural life. But don’t worry, if you’re reckless enough to go after an 1800 yen decorative scarf, Aiba-kun will be coming to your rescue in no time.”

The thought of Aiba staying with him for eternity didn’t sit well with him, but if Becky could pop herself back and forth, maybe she or her boss could just as easily pop Jun into the sun for not being pleased with the arrangement.

“I’ll stay out of your way. I mean, as much as I can,” Aiba said.

Jun’s brow furrowed. “What if I purposely endanger myself so you save me and go away?”

Becky snapped her fingers and about 40 more pages of the notebook turned. “It’s right there, didn’t you read it? Once you’re bound by the contract, you can’t try to trick your way out of it. Aiba won’t save you if you fling yourself in front of a train.”

“Yes I would!” Aiba protested.

Jun was a bit amazed at Aiba’s honest admission since up til a few hours ago they hadn’t even met. Though, Jun thought worriedly, how long had this weird angel been watching him?

“Okay. So if I’m in danger by no effort of my own, he’ll save me?”

“Yes,” the angels said in unison.

“But otherwise he’ll be...here?”

“Yes.”

“Again, his living expenses are covered,” Becky added.

Jun frowned. How the hell would he explain this one? Granted, he worked from home, so he wouldn’t have to tow Aiba along to an office every day. But what if he wanted to see a movie with friends? Or go home for dinner with his parents? Or...go to the...

“I won’t watch you go to the bathroom! Promise!” Aiba declared.

“You can...read...you can read...” Jun cried.

Becky yanked the notebook away. “Yeah, I’m going to amend that in the contract here. No mind reading, Aiba-kun, that’s cheating.”

Aiba flushed, and Jun yanked the pom pom pen back. “Alright, are there any other special angel powers I need to know about? Any other little surprises?”

Becky smiled. “Well, he’s in human form, and he has to stay in human form so long as he’s on probation. Sure, he’s a little stronger, so he’ll really help getting jars open for you.”

“Shut up,” Aiba muttered.

“He’ll abide by the no mind reading or he’ll just get himself further demoted. He also can’t teleport at will.”

“What?” Aiba protested. “But what if Jun’s in trouble?!”

“Then you save him,” Becky said simply. “You can do that without teleporting. It’s called being good at your job. You could teleport just fine before and you still let Ninomiya-kun...”

“Shut up!” Aiba shouted, getting to his feet. Though he’d been a little snippy, he hadn’t been this mad so far, Jun noticed. His previous charge was obviously a sore subject.

Becky just shook her head and dragged Jun’s hand back to the page. “Okay, could you sign already? I’ve got my own human to look after. I don’t really like working two jobs.”

Aiba was still fuming as Jun wrote his name on the dotted line. Was he really agreeing to this? Did he even have a choice? Should he have called his lawyer? “You need me to stamp this or something?”

Becky shut the book, and it disappeared along with the pom pom pen from Jun’s hand. “Believe me, Matsumoto-san. We’ve got you on file. Well, anyhow. I’ll be checking in from time to time. You two have fun now. Buh bye.”

And with that, the strange girl in the strange clothes popped out of existence, and Jun and Aiba were alone.

Had it only been an hour since he’d tried to get that damn scarf? His life had completely turned upside down. Was the same weird guy in the sweatpants who had saved him at the bridge an angel? A real honest-to-God (Jun sighed) angel?

He stared at Aiba suspiciously. “You can’t read my mind right now, can you?”

Aiba shook his head. “Once you signed, I lost it. Just like I can’t...” He snapped his fingers and didn’t move. “...teleport. I’m going to miss that.”

“This isn’t real,” Jun decided, heading for his bedroom. Sure, Becky had appeared and disappeared, and Aiba had read his mind earlier. But maybe he’d been drugged at some point. If he slept on it, he’d wake up and Aiba would be gone, and he’d have a good laugh about his crazy angel dream.

He was just changing into his pajamas when he could sense that he was being watched. He turned away from his dresser to see Aiba standing in the doorway, looking away quickly.

“Hey!” Jun protested. “I’m changing!”

“Well, what if you button your shirt too high? And you cut off your circulation and you start choking?”

Jun scowled. “I’m not an idiot.”

“Okay, okay,” Aiba said, turning around to give Jun privacy. “I’m sorry. I’m just...prone to being overprotective.”

“Is it because of what happened to the other person?” Jun asked, pulling on his pajama bottoms. “Ninomiya-san?”

Aiba closed Jun’s door suddenly, leaving him alone in the room. Well, Jun realized. If that was all it took to get this weird angel off his case, maybe he’d have to mention Aiba’s previous failure more often.

He settled under his covers, laughing to himself. An angel. A guardian angel. Yeah right.

--

When he opened his eyes, he saw Aiba’s smiling face and screamed.

“Whoa, whoa, Jun, sorry!” Aiba said, falling backwards off of the bed and onto the floor. “Boundaries, I’m sorry! You fell asleep so quickly and...”

Jun clutched his blanket to his chest, even though he was still fully dressed and had probably not been molested in his sleep. Aiba had been on top of the covers after all. “What...why...why are you still...what?”

Aiba rubbed his behind, having apparently landed on it. Maybe he really was an angel in human form...with all the limitations that being human brought with it.

“So...it wasn’t a dream. Or a drug-induced hallucination or...”

“Jun, you can’t do drugs, okay?” Aiba said in a pleading voice. “That’s willful endangerment, and I can’t save you then.”

He rubbed his face and moaned. “Ahhhh, you’re still here and still an angel, why are you here? Why the hell did you do this to me?”

Aiba inclined his head. “I’m sorry, I really am. But once we pick someone to protect, it’s binding.”

He kicked off the covers. Coffee. He needed coffee before he could deal with Aiba living in his apartment permanently. “Okay,” he said as he padded his way to the kitchen. “So I’m about to be hit by a car and you push me out of the way. Then you go away?”

“Well...yeah...”

“Some psycho with a knife shows up at one of the fashion events I’m covering, and you pull me into another room, thus saving me from getting stabbed. And then you go away?”

“Yes,” Aiba said sadly. “I’ll have fulfilled my duty to you as your guardian angel. You’ll be under heaven’s protection from then on. Everyone gets one personal intervention. I guess you can think of it like...insurance or something. You get to file one big claim, and then after that, it’s...up to...my boss.”

“Too bad I’m just a writer then,” Jun said. “I bet soldiers and firefighters get a lot more of heaven’s protection after that first chance?” He didn’t even know why he was discussing this. It was still too unbelievable.

“I don’t really agree with how the system works,” Aiba said, sitting down on Jun’s kitchen stool.

At some point at night, he’d managed to change into pajamas, but not any of Jun’s. Jun didn’t own anything in that particular shade of neon pink after all. The contract had said that Aiba’s living expenses would be covered. Jun wondered if he’d open his closet and find a bunch of strange Aiba clothes mixed in with his own. The thought of that kind of unfashionable dreck mixed in with his Brooks Brothers collection made his hand shake when he grabbed the coffee creamer from the refrigerator.

“I have an assignment due at noon,” he said. “You’re not going to watch over my shoulder as I type, are you? Because that will seriously creep me out.”

Aiba shook his head. “No, I’m going to check your outlets though.”

“My outlets?”

“Electrical outlets,” he said, eyeing Jun’s power strip by the TV. “Make sure you’re not going to zap yourself.”

“That’s nice.”

Jun downed his coffee and took a quick shower (after Aiba granted him permission to do so upon seeing the non-slip mat inside). Then he grabbed his notes and got to work. Aiba got to work too, going from room to room and looking for hazards.

After 500 words, Jun looked up to see Aiba putting on a fluffy brown parka. “Where are you going?”

Aiba smirked. “I think I can trust you to type. I’m getting some supplies.”

“Paid for by...?”

“My boss,” Aiba assured him. “Remember, I’m not freeloading. I’ll be back soon. Oh, and you’ll find my number in your phone if there’s an emergency. I added it while you were sleeping. Don’t worry, I didn’t read any of your mails.”

Jun blinked. “Okay then.”

He waved. “Can I get you anything, Jun?”

“Some peace and quiet would be lovely.”

Aiba smiled. His smile was really striking, Jun realized. No human being could really smile like Aiba, at least not that Jun had ever seen. Aiba’s smile was kind of like every good thing in the world smushed together. Maybe it was the angel-ness of him, Jun figured. Some writer he was.

“I’ll see you later.”

The door closed, and it seemed like everything was a little less bright in the apartment, a little less wonderful. The feeling hit Jun like a ton of bricks. He shook his head at the thought. No way. He was not going to be thinking about Aiba as this shining beacon of joy or something. His apartment had been just fine the morning before, Aiba-less and just fine.

--

Over the next few weeks, Jun became less irritated with Aiba’s presence. Sure, on the first day, Aiba had come back from the store with child-safety locks for all of Jun’s cabinets and had donated Jun’s expensive knife set to a restaurant. Aiba insisted on cutting Jun’s food for him lest he choke. He lined the side of Jun’s bed with pillows in case he rolled over and fell out and cracked his skull open during the night. He even cleaned Jun’s bathroom so there was no chance of him swallowing chemicals - not that Jun would ever chug down bleach by accident.

Aiba was truly overprotective, and yet, Jun wasn’t as annoyed as he’d initially thought he’d be. Not having to clean or cook gave him more time to write, and his editor was sending him lavish praise for his articles. And he’d lived alone for so long that it was kind of nice to have someone in the apartment to talk to.

Jun didn’t consider himself a shy person, but he wasn’t the most outgoing either. And he was more articulate in writing than in conversation. But Aiba didn’t mind. Aiba always had something to talk about - television, the dog down the street, cooking. The whole angel thing never came up. Aiba didn’t seem any different from any of Jun’s other friends. He was just...happier.

Aiba’s happiness was what made the difference, Jun realized. He’d been so deadline-conscious and work-driven and self-involved for so long that he hadn’t taken time to be happy. Or to smile.

But Aiba did everything with a smile. He read over Jun’s articles and smiled. He watched rented movies with Jun and smiled. He even scrubbed the toilet with a smile (though Jun suspected that one was fake). Aiba was kind of like a contagious disease, spreading his crazy happy germs everywhere.

Jun relaxed. Jun sat back and calmed down. Jun smiled.

For the first time in a long time, Jun genuinely smiled.

--

He sometimes forgot that Aiba was some being come down from heaven to coddle him. He thought of Aiba as his roommate and by the time three months of Aiba had come and gone, Jun thought of Aiba as his friend. The most caring friend he’d ever had.

He came home from a meeting with his boss, toting a bottle of wine. Of course, Aiba had sat in the lobby monitoring the elevators for any signs of cables snapping, but he had followed Jun home at a distance and had taken a shortcut so he was waiting in the apartment when Jun arrived.

Jun came in the door, beaming from ear to ear. “I’m home!”

“Welcome home!” Aiba called from the couch.

Jun flopped down on the couch and set the wine bottle down on the coffee table. “Guess who’s the newest assistant editor?”

Aiba gasped. “No way! No way, really?”

He nodded. “He said my work has gotten so much better these past few months that they promoted me ahead of several other people, I can’t believe it!”

“That’s great!” Aiba cheered, pumping his fist. “I’m so proud of you! Let me open this up, and we’ll celebrate!”

Of course Aiba opened the bottle of wine in a separate room. A flying cork could be a deadly projectile. Aiba drank a few sips for every celebratory glass Jun downed. By the time the bottle was empty, and he was halfway through another that he’d bought earlier, he was feeling great - a promotion, good wine, good company.

Jun rested against the couch cushion with a pleased sigh. “You know, all I used to do was stress about my word choice and nitpick everything about my writing. But since you’ve...well, I just have a lot more confidence in my writing now. Confidence I really didn’t have before. In...well, everything. I’m just looking at things differently now.”

Aiba nodded. “I’ve noticed that. Not to be weird or anything, but I did observe you for a few months before I...uh, tried to intervene that night.”

Jun giggled, pouring himself some more. “Oh? You watched me, huh? Did you like what you saw?”

Aiba turned scarlet, a very human thing. Or maybe angels couldn’t hold their liquor too well. “I...I mean, I...well.” He set down his own glass. “We want to protect people who we see are genuinely good people. And you’re a genuinely good person. You just...you wanted to be good at what you did. You worked really hard. I admired that.”

He snorted. “That’s why you picked me? You could have had a more exciting time following a police officer. They’re in trouble all the time. And I’d say they’re more of the genuinely good type.”

Aiba shook his head. “Don’t sell yourself short. Goodness isn’t just about those people who risk their lives every day or help people. Average people are just as good. They deserve protecting too.”

“Well, Aiba Masaki-whose-real-name-I-can’t-pronounce, I guess I’m glad you picked me,” Jun admitted.

“Of course. Not that I’m looking forward to you ever being in danger, you know.”

“Well,” Jun said, leaning forward and feeling a little bold. Wine always helped him out, and Aiba’s blush was almost as charming as his smile. He grabbed hold of Aiba’s ugly yellow t-shirt and pulled him close. “I guess you just better stay close to my side.”

“S-sure...”

Jun had kissed his fair share of people, but he could safely say that none of them could compare with kissing an angel. Well, an angel in human form. The wine gave Jun enough courage to push Aiba back against the cushions, demanding more and more, brushing against the mouth that smiled so bright just for him.

Three months of blushing disappeared as Aiba responded in kind, kissing and touching with the same devotion he gave to everything. Angels didn’t know how to dress, Jun thought, but damn, they knew how to kiss. He felt Aiba’s arms, so much stronger than they looked, go around his back, shielding and protecting. He could sense Aiba’s smile as their lips came together, broke apart, found each other again.

Jun was just drunk enough to ask. “Masaki,” he said, trying out Aiba’s given name on his tongue. Even though it still wasn’t his real name, was it? “Masaki, when they say you’re in human form, does that apply to everything?”

“Jun...”

“Come on,” he said, adjusting to move his hand between them to find the zipper for Aiba’s ugly as usual pants. His lustful feelings allowed him to ignore the hideous zebra print. “It’s not dangerous to touch you, is it?”

“Jun, stop,” Aiba said, gently easing Jun off of him. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?” Jun asked, feeling the wine start to catch up, along with the realization that he’d nearly stuck his hand down an angel’s pants. Only to be summarily rejected. Sure, Aiba had kissed him back. And quite well. But maybe it was somewhere in that damned contract. Protect your charge at all costs, do whatever you have to to make them happy. Whether you want to or not. “You’re sorry?”

“I’d rather...not do that. Not tonight,” Aiba said, grabbing a pillow and holding it over his lap. That made Jun feel slightly better. But just slightly.

“Why not? I care about you. I’m realizing that,” Jun admitted. “And sure, that’s probably weird on account of your...not...being...well, it’s weird. I get it...”

“No Jun, you don’t get it,” Aiba said uncomfortably, scratching at his scalp as though it might distract him from what he really wanted to do. “I’m your guardian angel. It’s my job to be your...well, your guardian, okay?”

“So sex is out of the question,” Jun responded bluntly.

“I’m sorry...”

“No, no, I get it,” Jun said in exasperation, picking up the empty wine bottle and heading for the kitchen. “You pick some sap at random because you need to make good with your boss. I get that. Everyone wants their boss to praise them. So you picked me.”

Aiba was still on the couch looking uncomfortable.

“Look, maybe this whole contract was a mistake. I’ve gotten too complacent. I let you be my friend when this whole thing is just a nuisance,” Jun said angrily. He knew deep down that it was the wine talking. And sure, maybe a little frustration of a sexual variety - living together with an attractive person utterly devoted to you for several months could do that to anyone.

“Don’t say that,” Aiba replied quietly. “I care about you, I really do. I picked you for a reason.”

“You picked me because you had to,” Jun interrupted him. “You only had to pick someone new because you were careless and let the last one die. I’m just the replacement.”

“You don’t mean what you’re saying. You’re drunk and that’s willful endangerment, if you remember,” Aiba said. “And you don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings. I care about you, more than you know. We just can’t be...we can’t do...”

“So you can follow me wherever I go like a stray dog,” he shouted, coming back into the living room. “You can treat me like an idiot who can’t even boil his own water. It’s pointless, the things you do here!”

“Jun, please.”

“Why don’t you go protect someone who actually needs your help? Because I’m not going to slip in the tub or fall down the stairs or choke on a chicken nugget any time soon. And if I do, well, it means my time is up, doesn’t it?” He went to the door and opened it. “You’re wasting your time here, Aiba-kun. I don’t need you to baby me any longer.”

Jun almost relented when he saw the tears in Aiba’s eyes. But he just remembered that the tears were from Aiba Masaki’s tear ducts. Tear ducts in a body of someone who had actually passed away - the real angel had taken Aiba Masaki’s body, after all. Had Jun just fallen for the empty shell?

So long as Aiba was around, Jun knew that Aiba would eventually have to save his life. Whether from something dangerous or something trivial, Aiba would save him no matter what. And then Aiba would go away. For good.

“Please don’t make me leave.”

Jun looked away, anywhere but at the tears streaking down his guardian angel’s face.

“Maybe if you’d taken better care of Ninomiya-san, you wouldn’t have to waste your time on me.”

Aiba said nothing, walking out into the hallway. He turned the corner and went out of sight. Jun closed the door, leaning back against it. The enormity of what he’d done sank in, and he slid to the floor.

--

A week went by, and the apartment seemed strangely empty without Aiba. Jun still had Aiba’s number in his phone, but he hadn’t been in any mortal danger worth calling about. He’d gotten a paper cut, and it felt almost liberating to be able to clean the wound and bandage his finger himself. Aiba really had gone overboard.

But at the same time, it was quiet. Jun would wake up in the morning and peer over the edge of the bed, expecting to find Aiba sprawled across the pillows he’d set up on the floor. There’d be no strange Aiba dinners waiting for him when he got back from covering a show - angels had a strange fondness for curry. At least Aiba had.

Life was back the way it was supposed to be, Jun realized. A life where things happened as they happened. People lived, people died. There was no supernatural intervention. No angel waiting to bandage your paper cuts or admonish you for walking down a dark alley late at night.

He was walking back from the train station, crossing the bridge over the river. Spring was coming soon, and the world was thawing out again. Jun thought of Aiba’s mistake, how annoyed he’d been about losing his scarf and Aiba’s immediate intrusiveness. Sure, Aiba had picked Jun for some silly reason, but it wasn’t worth it.

Someone as amazing and caring and loving as Aiba shouldn’t squander his gifts on someone average. He cared about Aiba, too, Jun knew. He cared enough to let him leave and hopefully find someone worth looking out for. He leaned against the rail, watching the river flow on beneath him. Willful endangerment, he thought with a bitter laugh.

--

When he got back to his apartment, he was startled to find Becky relaxing on his couch, watching some daytime soap opera. “Matsumoto-san,” she chided him. “You trying to nullify your contract or what? Is a heavenly bodyguard not enough for you? Snobby much?”

He frowned and took off his coat, hanging it up in the closet. “Things were getting complicated. And he was annoying.”

“Uh huh.”

“Besides, there’s plenty of other people he can keep an eye on. He’s really good at treating people like they’re incompetent,” Jun said warily.

“You humans are so dumb,” Becky told him, hitting the mute button on the remote.

“We are,” Jun admitted. “But it was pointless for Aiba to stay here. I don’t want to waste his time. You’re angels, right? You can teleport and read minds and all that. How many children are starving to death around the world? How many innocent people are getting killed in wars they want no part of? Why aren’t you helping those people? How come they can just die, but someone pointless like me gets a guardian angel?”

Becky threw a pillow at him. “Moron.”

He sat down on the couch, moving her feet aside. If she wanted to strike him dead, she already would have done so. “Am I wrong? Is my life worth more than theirs?”

“It’s not about the value of one life over another, Matsumoto. It’s the fact that Aiba chose you because he found something in your heart worth saving. Could he have shopped around more? Yes, of course.” Jun was kind of impressed with Becky the angel. He wondered who she looked after. “But the fact of the matter is that Aiba picked you. Yes, it might be intrusive. Yes, he might be annoying. But he cares about you. It’s a love you can’t even comprehend.”

“Well, if Aiba’s so loving and all that, then how come Ninomiya died?”

Becky looked sad. “You didn’t ask him, did you?”

Jun rolled his eyes. “He wasn’t exactly fond of the topic.”

Becky planted her feet on his lap, criscrossing her ankles. “Ninomiya and Aiba Masaki were best friends since childhood. The real Aiba Masaki, mind you. But when they were in college, the real Aiba had some illness, his lung collapsed. It was really horrible. He died young, and Ninomiya was heartbroken. It was really sudden, and Aiba had been extremely healthy. So when Aiba-kun, I mean to say, your Aiba and my Aiba, took over the dead boy’s body, it didn’t end well...”

Jun, knowing Aiba the angel, had a feeling where it was going.

“When we take over a vessel, we don’t go back to the lives they had before. That’s rule number one. But you know Aiba-kun. He’s annoying. And intrusive. So he felt really bad for Ninomiya and thought ‘you know, I’ll go send him one last message from his friend who died suddenly.’ You can see where this was a bad idea from the start.”

Jun winced. “He didn’t...”

“He did,” Becky said. “He appeared at the same train stop where Ninomiya and Aiba had met every day to go to school. Residual memories from the body you take over. But of course, knowing our Aiba-kun, he was on the wrong side of the platform. But Ninomiya sees his friend, his very much dead friend, mind you, and he’s stunned. He wants to run forward and greet his friend. He wants so very much to see him that he runs out on the track...”

“But you save people. Angels save people,” Jun pointed out. “How come Aiba didn’t just teleport?”

“I...I don’t know,” Becky said. “It was all over too fast. He was too focused on being able to let his vessel see Ninomiya one last time. Because that’s the kind of person...well, that’s the kind of angel that Aiba-kun is. He loves too much and too deeply. He loves with everything he is. And that’s dangerous for us.”

And suddenly, it all made sense. Why Aiba doted on him...and still rejected him. Because he’d gotten Ninomiya killed. Because he didn’t want to get too close to Jun and repeat the same mistakes.

“He loves you, Jun. And it scares him,” Becky admitted.

“It scares me, too. I...don’t want to give him up, if you can understand that,” Jun said quietly.

She thumped her feet against his thigh gently. “You don’t want him to have to save you because it means he’ll never come back.”

“You read my mind.”

“No,” she said with a grin. “I read your heart.”

He groaned, bopping his head back against the cushion. “You angels are annoying all around.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” she replied sweetly. “But stupid, stupid Jun. If you send Aiba away, it’s the same as him not coming back, isn’t it? Wouldn’t it be better to just have him around anyway? I mean, granted, he can’t cook worth a damn, and according to my last status check, he irons your shirts poorly?”

Jun grinned. “Says I might burn myself and get an infection filled with lots of pus and have to get my limb amputated. Oh, but the doctor might be drunk and sever my carotid so I bleed out on the table...”

“Always graphic with Aiba-kun,” she complained. “Look, Jun, I’m not going to tell you how to live your life. You still signed the contract, and Aiba’s still obligated to save you. Provided, of course, that he knows you’re in danger. So I guess if you suddenly die in a plane crash, Aiba will just have to find someone new. But if you ask me, I think you’d both be better off together. Whatever that means in whatever arrangement you can work out.”

He sighed. Becky was right. Damn angel. He’d been pretty damn foolish to make Aiba leave. And all because of sex. Well, sort of all because of sex. What an idiot he was.

“I’ll think about it. It’s kind of nice to change my own light bulbs again.”

She sat up, planting a gentle kiss on his cheek. “I’m sure you’ll make the right choice.”

And with that, she popped out of sight.

--

Tonight, Jun decided. Tonight would be the night he’d try calling the number Aiba had left in his cell phone. He wondered what it led to. Did Aiba carry a cell phone around with him, the same as anyone else? Like any other human? Or was it like the Bat Signal for an angel? He smiled inwardly, thinking about how glad he’d be to see Aiba once more. Aiba with his stupid, horrible sense of fashion.

But he had to make dinner. One last dinner he could cook on his own before Aiba came back and discouraged him from doing anything that might cause him gross bodily harm. He entered the convenience store, hearing the clerk’s greeting as he picked up a basket. He had some fresh vegetables at home. He’d just pick up some beef and curry roux and give Aiba a surprise.

He was just putting the curry roux in his basket when he heard the commotion up at the front.

“Hand over the money! Come on, open the cash register!”

Jun crouched down in the aisle immediately, heart racing. He could see the reflection in the mirror: the clerk raising her hands nervously as an angry young man with a mask pointed a gun in her face.

“Hand it over, I don’t have all damn day! And don’t you press that button back there, bitch! I know you have a police call button!”

The guy hadn’t spotted Jun in the rear of the store yet. He could send a message to the police...or...

Jun didn’t know why, but as soon as he slipped his phone out of his pocket, he found himself typing ‘sos convenience store sos’ and sending it to the contact address for Aiba. It was stupid. He should notify the police, but the man at the front was holding the gun against the clerk’s temple, and she was sobbing trying to get the cash register open.

There might not be enough time for the police. According to the contract, Aiba couldn’t teleport. But maybe...just maybe...

Jun inched forward, leaving his basket behind and crawling on his hands and knees. Maybe if he surprised the guy, he could get the gun away from him. The gunman was still shouting in the poor clerk’s face, banging his hand on the counter. Jun wasn’t much for heroics, but he couldn’t let the clerk get hurt. He just had to be quick and quiet.

But he didn’t count on the other mirror at the front of the store. The man in the mask spotted him just before he was going to get up and ambush him, and before Jun knew it, he had the gun in his own face.

“Keep putting the money in the bag!” the man shouted. Jun closed his eyes as he heard the gun make a clicking noise. He could feel the barrel against his forehead. “Now, now. Let’s not be hasty, pretty boy. Don’t want your brains splattered against the freezer case, do you?”

Jun gulped. Idiot, he was such an idiot. He should have just stayed put and called for the police. But he noticed the clerk’s shaky finger press the button behind the counter now that the gunman’s attention was on Jun. Good. Now the police would come.

“Thought you were going to be a hero,” the gunman taunted him. “Thought you were going to save the day. Well, I don’t need any witnesses...”

Jun took a deep breath. All he could think of was...

The convenience store doors slid open, sounding the chime. “You get the hell away from him!”

It all happened way too fast.

Jun sensed the gunman turning. He opened his eyes. He saw Aiba standing in the doorway in his stupid green track jacket and his stupid sweatpants. He saw the police lights in the street just past Aiba, but the gun went off first. It was loud, way too loud.

The gunman ran off at the sound of sirens, forgetting the money from the register and jumping over Aiba in the doorway.

Jun had never moved so fast in his whole life, ignoring the clerk’s screams as he rushed over to kneel down at Aiba’s side. The ugly green jacket had a bright red stain in the middle, and it was spreading fast. Jun put his hand down over it, hands shaking.

“Aiba...Aiba, what are you...”

Aiba smiled, big and bright. “Got your...message. SOS!”

Jun blinked back the hot tears in his eyes. This was his fault. He should have called the police. He should have called the police, damn it. “Masaki...”

“You called, Jun,” Aiba choked out, staring up at the convenience store ceiling. “I put my number in your phone. But I didn’t read...your mail, honest.”

Jun’s hands were covered in blood. Aiba was bleeding. He was in human form so long as he was under contract. Everything that being human entailed. “Don’t talk, the police are here.” He turned to yell at the clerk helplessly. “Call an ambulance!”

“I’m...so glad you...called me!” Aiba declared. His smile was wonderful. It was too much to take. How could he be smiling?

“Idiot!” Jun protested, keeping his hands clamped over the middle of Aiba’s chest. “Why would you shout at him? Throw something at him, sneak up behind him. You’re so stupid!”

“Jun, it doesn’t hurt...really, it’s okay...”

“You’re stupid!” Jun cried. “You think I’m trying to jump off a bridge, you shout at a guy holding a gun!”

Aiba’s eyes fluttered closed. “Thank you...Jun, thank you...”

The police came rushing in, pulling Jun away. All Jun could see was red. Red and Aiba’s smile. Aiba’s smile was getting red too.

--

He hadn’t gotten to make the curry. He was at the hospital, and even though nobody had come to talk to him, he knew that Aiba hadn’t made it. He could just sense it. Like whatever connection, whatever thread was binding them had been snapped.

Aiba had saved Jun’s life and fulfilled the contract. Aiba was gone.

But Jun was going to wait until someone came over, someone explained. Until someone said yes, they’d caught the guy who’d held up the store. Until someone said yes, your friend has passed away. The hours slipped by, and finally he noticed another man in the waiting room, kicking the vending machine. He hadn’t realized there was someone else in the room.

“Damn machines, they always rip you off!” the guy complained. He was a little on the short side, scowling in frustration.

Jun got to his feet, shuffling over. He had some change in his bag, and he rummaged inside for some coins. He winced when he held out his hand, still stained a bit from Aiba’s blood. “I’m sorry...uh, you can have these.”

The other man grinned. “You...you’re awesome.” He tapped his finger against the vending machine glass. “See, I put in the change and pressed C4, for that hamburger there. And it’s stuck. So maybe your change plus my change...”

Jun nodded, letting the shorter guy feed more coins into the machine. “C4.”

“C4,” the hamburger-demanding guy said, pressing the button. The machine made its usual noise, and the hamburger packet fell down. “Oh, thank god! I have been craving this forever!” He pulled the packet from the machine and unwrapped it, taking it over to the microwave. “What’s your name?”

He watched the hamburger rotate in the machine for several seconds, still thinking of Aiba lying on the floor of that store. “Jun.”

“Nice to meet you, Jun,” the man said. The microwave dinged, and he took it out and headed for the door. “And thank you. My name’s Ninomiya.”

Jun didn’t even think it was strange until after the door swung shut. And he was off, racing down the halls trying to find the man with the hamburger. Ninomiya...it wasn’t the most uncommon last name. Or the most common either. But he’d been living with an angel for months. He was a firm believer in miracles now.

He followed the smell of the hamburger, surprisingly potent. It was the most fragrant smelling hamburger Jun had ever smelled, leading him forward, and he went flying through two double doors, falling against someone and knocking them to the ground with a heavy “oof!”

“I’m sorry,” Jun said, rolling off the other person. “I’m really sorry, I thought...”

“Ssh!” said the other person, holding up a finger to his surgical mask. He was in full scrubs. “Ssh, you can’t tell on me. They’re really going to freak out in the morgue!”

Jun couldn’t believe his eyes. “Masaki?!”

“Ssh, I said!” Aiba held out his hand. The same hand that had grabbed Jun on the bridge that first night they’d met. The exact same hand. “Come on.”

Jun took it.

--

They got back to Jun’s apartment, and Aiba collapsed on the couch in the hospital scrubs, tugging the mask from his face. “Oh, I am so glad to be home.”

Jun stood in the entryway, unable to move. “How?”

“I hate hospitals! So many people dying, and I can do diddly squat to help them! Because they’re not my assignment. So stupid!”

“Masaki,” Jun mumbled. “How...how are you...”

Aiba sat up. “Oh! Ohhhh! Oh, Jun, I’m sorry!” He rushed over and hugged him.

“Are you here?” Jun asked him. “Here here? For good?” Aiba sure felt solid, as solid as he had before. But how was that possible?

“Here here,” Aiba told him with a smile. “For good. I guess...well, let’s just say I got a good promotion. Better than you being assistant editor, I think.”

“How can you be here? The contract...”

The notebook Jun had been asked to sign popped into Aiba’s hand suddenly, and he opened it. “Well, Jun, it says here in the fine print...”

“It’s all fine print, Masaki.”

“It says here in the fine print that if I save your life, our contract is fulfilled. And I did so. I am now a full-fledged angel with all the perks, thanks to my boss. I guess it helped to save your life in an unexpected and completely heroic way!”

“So,” Jun said shakily. “If the contract’s fulfilled, don’t you have to leave me? The whole insurance thing?”

“Well, sure,” Aiba said. “If you want me to leave. I mean, when the contract was set, you said if I saved you, you wanted me to go away. I was just agreeing to that. If you wanted me to go, I’d go.”

“Wait a second...”

“You want me here, right?” Aiba’s smile really should have gotten him a deal with some sort of talent agency, Jun thought. “I’m no longer under contract to save you. I can really do what I want. Or I could do what you want.” He raised his eyebrows. “Well? Well, Jun? Do you want me to hang around? Do you have a spare room?”

Jun didn’t know if he wanted to punch Aiba in the face or never let him go. He went for a compromise, grabbing him by the ugly, unfashionable hospital scrubs and pulling him in for a well-deserved kiss.