sockathan drabbles

feathers (angel!jon au)

"When was the last time you preened these things?"

Jon shrugged with disinterest. "It's not exactly a priority. I'm too busy, I don't know, doing my job? You should try it sometime."

Sock could envision the smirk on Jon's face. The demon gasped in surprise, his own dark wings bristling with the insult. His face took on a pout, lips protruding petulantly, resisting the urge to ruffle the angel's wings and ruin all his hard work. "I'll have you know I'm very good at my job," he mumbled under his breath. He couldn't stay bitter for long when Jon began to chuckle. The head of golden hair turned to look at him over its shoulder, revealing a small grin that wrinkled the corners of sparkling blue eyes. Always backlit with that ethereal glow, like the angel was constantly standing in front of a sunroom window.

Sock let himself stare for a moment longer before he looked away bashfully, pushing gently at Jon's cheek. "Turn around, you're gonna mess them up. I'm almost done." Jon relented, facing forward again but leaning comfortably into Sock's touch.

"I still can't believe I'm getting lectured on self-care by a demon."

"How do you think I stay so pretty?" Sock cooed, adjusting a crooked feather nestled within the ivory wings before him.

"I assumed it came naturally."

"Pffft. Shut up."

"I'm serious!" the angel contested, sitting up straighter and beginning to turn once more before Sock placed a settling palm on the back of his neck. The demon smiled to himself, tracing his fingers lightly from the base at Jon's shoulderblades to the tip of the wings, making sure to smooth everything down.

"Ok, Combs. All good! You can stop being so antsy now."

The angel spun in his crosslegged position to face Sock, forcing the demon to confront his glowing features headon. Jon glanced at his wings, which stretched to their impressive wingspan as he shook them gently a few times. Sock's own small, dark wings rustled happily at Jon's apparent pleasure with his work, the black feathers shining like a puddle of oil. When Jon looked down at him, he couldn't help but smile back, warmth radiating off of him like the sun itself. "Thanks," the angel hummed, still looming over him even with his hunched posture.

Sock shrugged, painfully aware of the flush in his cheeks. "Someone had to do it. Who's gonna trust a shoddy-looking angel?"

Jon's laugh caught his attention, peering up as the angel tweaked his cheek gently. "Fair point." The warmth intensified as Jon leaned closer, his large, soft wings enveloping them in a fort of sorts. Their own private hideaway. Sock closed the gap to press his forehead against Jon's, going nearly crosseyed in an attempt to meet his gaze. The angel's warm chuckle vibrated in his chest - or maybe that was just his hammering heart. No matter how many times, Sock could always feel himself getting flustered during things like this, caught up in the smattering of freckles across his angel's face, the comforting weight of Jon's palm against his own cheek, the occasional, contented rustling of the downy wings encasing them. He adjusted his head to ghost his lips over Jon's, a goofy smile breaking the connection. Jon nosed at his cheek, tugging him closer by the small of the back.

"What's so funny?" the blonde inquired,  lips brushing at Sock's jaw.

"Nothing," the demon replied with a small sigh,  hands falling to rest on Jon's knees. "Just this. Us. You, and me, and you wanting me, and-"

Jon interrupted him with a grumble, sandwiching Sock's cheeks between his hands. His lips puffed out with the gentle squeeze as Jon peered down at him, shaking his head, the faintest trace of a smile playing at his lips. "We're not doing this again. Of course I want you. Stay out of your head. It's still you and me, the rest doesn't matter. Yeah?"

"You and me," Sock repeated softly, to which Jon nodded before placing a gentle kiss on the boy's lips.

"You and me," the angel confirmed one last time before taking both of Sock's hands between his own, squeezing them lightly. Sock couldn't hold back his own smile, thinking fondly of how Jon never complained about his cold hands, his cold lips, and even, ocassionally, his cold feet. Even if he struggled internally - particularly around new tasks and job assignments, when they were forced to confront just how heavily their responsibilities and codes clashed - he never expressed any doubt that this was what he wanted, that Sock was what he wanted. It lit up a warm little flame in the demon every time, much like the feeling he got from the angel himself.

Sock clung to that feeling, that kindling within, as he brought their joined hands up to press a kiss to Jon's knuckles. "Thanks, Combs."

"Yeah, whatever," he replied with a crooked grin, pulling back bashfully, and Sock felt the little flame grow in his chest.