As Koujaku expected, it's halfway through the night and Mizuki is drunk as all hell. He slurs and laughs and hangs all over the men next to him. The hairdresser himself is only a little buzzed, but it's distracting him from thinking about the previous events, so he can't complain. Plus, Mizuki is a funny drunk. "Jussayin'... Seems like you two are gonna... Hav' some trouble gettin' married." The tattoo artist grins, directing his question at Aoba. The current topic was the relationship the blue-haired man was sharing with Clear, who everyone had recently learned was actually a fucking cyborg. Whatever made Aoba happy, Koujaku guessed.
"L-Look, we haven't talked about marriage! It's only been three months!" Aoba is flustered as all hell, and refuses to look at either of them. Noiz, still being used as a chair, fell asleep a long time ago. Why he refused to move, Koujaku doesn't understand. "And just why would we have any trouble?"
"I dunno, maybe b'cause he's a robot?" Mizuki is hiccupping all over the place.
Aoba just makes a face and huffs, turning away. Koujaku glances at the clock, nervous. "Guys, it's... Getting kind of late. Aoba, maybe you should take Mizuki home, he doesn't seem well enough to get there himself," he suggests, smiling weakly at his childhood friend.
The younger man nods and sighs. "Sorry about him... I guess he was trying to calm his nerves," he theorizes, shrugging a little. He stands and walks over to Mizuki, hoisting him up under his armpits and lifting him the best he can. The hairdresser stands as well, ready to help. Aoba then turns his gaze on Koujaku, eyes serious. "Call me if anything else like that happens. Call me," he repeats the instruction for emphasis, lips tightening into a frown. Koujaku nods, looking guilty as fuck again. He's about to apologize for the umpteenth time before Aoba reaches up and ruffles his hair. "I'm glad you're alive."
With that, the two of them stumble out of the apartment with some effort. Koujaku is left with a lump in his throat and guilt of the highest degree. Behind him, his guardian angel stirs and rubs at his eyes, blinking sleep out of them. He doesn't react, only sits back down and rubs at his face with his hands.
"You're upset."
Koujaku frowns, shaking his head a little. "I'm fine, I just... Can't believe I did that to them," he mutters, staring at the ground.
"Now do you see how stupid it would have been? You're fine." Noiz yawns, stretching out and sighing. "That was boring, though."
"Yeah?" Koujaku looks over at him, a smirk dancing on his lips. "You seemed to enjoy having Aoba in your lap all night," he snickers.
At this, the angel goes bright red again. "Look, I didn't know he was going to sit on me. I'm not interested anyway," he dismisses the idea, setting his eyes on Koujaku. "I'm only interested in you."
Now it's the older man's turn to light up like a Christmas tree. "Wh-What?! What the hell is that even supposed to mean?!" He protests, shoving at Noiz, who just laughs under his breath.
As if this were plain fact, common knowledge, Noiz states, "I'm in love with you."
Koujaku sputters for a moment before shoving at him again. "You're just being a fucking moron," he growls, embarrassed by how obvious his red face and ears must be.
Noiz doesn't actually answer that. He just laughs again, which infuriates the older man. He gives up, though, figuring he was right. The angel was joking around. He suddenly feels very, very tired, like the shock of murdering someone and finding an actual angel have finally caught up with him. He curls up on his side on the couch, paying no mind to the fact that this plants his head in Noiz's lap. It's warm there, anyway. He doesn't even mind it when the angel starts petting through his hair softly.
