Jeudan found out from Kori that Baki had fledged, and it left a cold feeling in the pit of his stomach. Malakite, it had told him, its expression serious. And he'd hugged it, hugged Kori tight, and shook. The Elohite had stroked his arm gently and nodded, said, neuter voice soft, "I know."

Baki wouldn't make a good Malakite, he didn't have to say. Baki never wanted to be a Malakite. Baki was a creature of needs and freedom. The fact that it had been days now and he hadn't seen Baki...

He pushed paperwork away from his desk as Baki entered, quiet, head lowered. Jeudan looked at him and had trouble seeing the angel he knew; green hair still curled around Baki's effeminate face, down his shoulders, but black wings arched.

Heavy black chains crossed over them, weighing them down.

Baki raised his head and met Jeudan's eyes. There was an exhausted challenge in them, and Baki was grinning. "Well, look at me."

"I'm looking," Jeudan said, mouth dry. "Baki..."

Baki's grin faltered. "Hey, c'mon, what's with that look? We can have sex now, right?"

Jeudan rose, came around the desk, put his hands to Baki's shoulders, felt them thin under the weight of the chains. "Baki, you..."

"It's fine," Baki said, abruptly. "It's okay. I've got a promise."

"A promise?" Jeudan leaned forward, inhaled the new scent of him in, iron and blood and dust.

"Ten years," Baki said, and his arms came around Jeudan's waist. "It's only another ten years."

Jeudan met Baki's eyes, and read an ache there, the pain of not being who he was. "I love you," he tried to explain.

"Then make me scream," Baki said, and grinned slowly, pressed against Jeudan. "Finally. Okay?"

Jeudan ate his mouth and tasted freedom in it. Afterwards, they sprawled on the desk, papers scattered about the room, and Jeudan stroked Baki's wings, watched Baki smile at him sleepily, eyes showing every satisfaction.

Some things were worth waiting for, Jeudan decided, and buried his face against Baki's chained left shoulder.