Authors Notes:

Summary: Angel Salvadore observes that Riptide and Azazel have been a couple for over a decade. She asks Riptide to tell her how they first got together in the conservative 1950's.

Warning: This fic contains a relationship between an adult and someone who is underage. The author does not wish to trigger or upset anyone, so please don't read on unless you're okay with this.

Also: This fic was partially inspired by fanart I saw on Tumblr. I can't link to it from here, but send me a PM if you want the link. It depicts a young Riptide and an older Azazel, although in my fic Riptide is nowhere near that young when they first get together. The fanart is exceptionally good and I thank the artist for partially inspiring this fic.

Two Halves

They had much time, nowadays, to relax and talk to one another. The long days with little activity lent themselves to confidences, to the sharing of histories. Riptide was more of a listener and he felt that he now knew the defining events of Angel's life. Once she got going, she shared openly, and he learned from listening to her. He was not surprised when she eventually asked him for more about his own life.

"So," Angel began one day, "how did you meet Azazel? And how did two guys actually get into a relationship like this in the first place? Not exactly something most men just fall into."

Riptide cleared his throat and set his drink down. He had known Angel long enough and now liked her well enough that he was glad to tell her the story.

He would not, however, tell her everything; he would edit out much. Only Azazel knew all of his secrets.

I will tell you, Angel, how I met Azazel although I warn you up front that not every aspect of it is pleasant. It is thanks to Sebastian Shaw and Emma Frost that we met. I found myself without a living relative and in need of a home at a very young age, and Shaw and Emma provided that home.

Janos decides that Angel doesn't need to hear about his early years, being poor, being without a home, passed from one hungry and overworked relative to another until the street was his only option. Janos has spent the last two decades trying to forget his first.

So I think it all begins when Azazel went to see Shaw and Emma not long after World War II ended. Shaw and Azazel had met each other a few times before then and meant to work together. But my understanding is that Shaw was sidetracked with Erik, and Azazel had other plans in the works which were disrupted by the war's end. Erik was gone now though and Shaw had a new project, Emma Frost. He and Azazel found each other again, this time in North America since Shaw wanted to be far away from Europe's rubble.

It is not very romantic to admit this, but I don't actually remember the first time I laid eyes on Azazel. How could I forget his appearance, you wonder? I don't know. But you have to remember that I was 11 years old at the time and I had already seen horrors that would rival some of the war stories. I think I heard Azazel's voice before I ever saw him. Shaw's headquarters at the time was small, and as I ran my errands I heard this deep voice talking with Shaw; sometimes both men spoke Russian, sometimes English.

Janos doesn't tell Angel that he only thinks he was 11 years old the first time he met Azazel. He doesn't know his exact age.

But I can tell you about the first time Azazel and I ever spoke to each other. It was quite late one evening and I was finishing up my work. I saw the door to Shaw's office open a crack and light was streaming through into the hallway. Again I heard that unusual voice and I actually remember wondering if it was the funny-looking man again. I had been inside all day and hadn't seen the main entrance open once, but here was – probably - that odd man again and I wondered how he got in. Emma was inside the room with them too. She spoke little but I could hear her intermittent giggles.

I crept up to the doorway to listen. It was late and I was tired, and I had a full day ahead of me too. But curiosity won out and I peered through the crack of the open door.

"It appears we have company!" I heard Emma say. It hadn't yet sunk in, the fact that I would have no secrets here.

"Come in, Janos," Shaw said, and I stepped through the doorway into Shaw's office.

Janos doesn't tell Angel that the work he had been doing and the full day ahead of him were comprised mainly of chores and other menial tasks. He also withholds from her the shyness and fear he felt as he slowly pushed open the door to Shaw's office. Janos had been tasked with cleaning every other room inside the hideout but had never before been allowed inside the office.

As soon as I walked through the doorway, my attention was drawn to the visitor. As I mentioned, he'd been there before and I know I had glimpsed him a few times, but it was quite different seeing him up close. El Diablo. The red-skinned man with the tail. The one who looked like the devil. He seemed incredibly tall at the time, to me. His eyes were bright blue, which I had thought incongruous. The red skin and devilish features fascinated me and I just stared. A normal child might have gasped and ran, but I just stood there looking.

What did I remember the most though? It wasn't any of what I just told you, not the skin color or the tail or the overall way he resembled El Diablo. No. What I remembered the most years later was Azazel's mouth. It was wide and sensual, although I certainly didn't have the word for "sensual" back then. But his mouth stayed with me for years and in that office that evening, I couldn't stop looking at him and at it.

Oh, and he did not have his goatee back then. Truly, Azazel then looked much as he does now with the exception of his facial hair.

"Who is he?" Azazel asked Shaw. He was returning my gaze. His voice had a businesslike tone but it was kind too.

When recounting the story to Angel, Janos now obfuscates the response given to Azazel's question. Emma had replied, "A street kid we picked up in Guatemala…or Colombia – one of those godforsaken backwards countries in South America. He was trying to pick our pockets. But we caught him of course."

"We were going to let him go with a slap and a shove," Shaw had continued, "but Emma sensed something. She's so smart," he patted her thigh. "She said she thought he might be a mutant like us, so we took him back here and tested him. She's right. We're just waiting to see what his mutation will be. We hope it will be of use to us."

Janos remembers that even as Shaw continued the story, Janos had known he might be punished later on because he hadn't turned his head to either Emma or Shaw as they spoke. He had continued to look at the stranger, especially at his mouth.

So anyway, Angel, once they gave Azazel my name they told me to say hi to the man. Emma gently pushed me towards him.

"Hello," I said. I extended my hand.

Azazel did something that totally surprised me. He smiled. "Hello. It is nice to meet you." He shook my hand firmly and addressed me using the same sort of voice he used with the others.

"Are you finished with your work, Janos?" Emma asked.

"Almost," I said.

"It's late. You had better finish up and then go to bed. We have grown-up business to discuss."

Janos would later learn that Emma was only about seven years older than he, but she had always seemed much older to him.

I remember having trouble sleeping that night and waking up early the next day, hoping to see the strange man again. He wasn't there at breakfast but he was there later in the day, inside the large room which at the time we called the gymnasium. He was doing some sort of demonstration of his powers and his fighting, as Shaw watched looking content. I just stood there and stared, and when Azazel spotted me, he changed too. His moves suddenly got more hesitant. I remember that he approached a target with his sword but nearly missed.

Shaw turned his head and glared at me. "Janos, why don't you get to your studies now?"

Actually, what Shaw had said was, "Janos, return to your chores. You can clean this room later."

It clearly wasn't a suggestion. I turned to leave the room and started walking towards the exit, but I stopped and looked back over my shoulder to see the stranger again. Azazel was looking at me and our eyes locked.

He left a few days later. I had not been privy to his conversation with Emma before his departure, but I now know what they said and did, and I will share it with you, Angel.

It had started with Emma entering the guest room and watching Azazel pack. She had opened with, "I know the real reason why you're leaving."

"It is as I told Mr. Shaw," Azazel had answered, not taking his eyes from the suitcase. "I would like to work with you in the future but now is not right time for me."

"I actually think you're doing the right thing," Emma had said. "He's too young, and I feel sparks flying in both directions."

Azazel had abruptly stopped, turned, and faced Emma. "I have killed countless humans, Miss Frost. I have been on many raids, stabbed innocent men to death. Do you think I care about what happens to some no-name child?"

Emma shrugged. "My powers get stronger each year. I know things about you that you might not even know, and I can tell that you think that using him this way would be a worse sin than any." She paused and added, "And I think you're right."

Azazel was quiet for a long time. He then said, "Promise me you will take good care of him, Miss Frost."

"He's a fellow mutant. We will keep him safe and train him well. When we find out what his mutation is, we'll see how useful to our cause it will be. For his sake, I hope it will be useful. If it's not then…" Emma had let her voice trail off and had shrugged once again.

Azazel later told me that's when his heart had begun to pound and he had vowed to return in a few years.

Of course I thought about him over the years. But not that much. I was a kid and my days were filled with new experiences. Shaw and Emma kept me busy – I had textbooks and tutoring in Math, Science, and English. They taught me the basics of seafaring; how to navigate and control ships. Some days I enjoyed that, other days I was lazy about it and did just enough to avoid getting punished.

Janos continues to leave out the references to the large amount of menial tasks which occupied his days.

And then my powers began to bloom. I spent long hours each day learning how to harness and control these terrifying but thrilling abilities. I had known it would happen someday, that my powers would emerge, but experiencing them and dealing with them still shot a hole through my life. It was an honor to be so powerful and to work with two people who helped me maximize that power.

Janos doesn't tell Angel that he will never forget the first time Shaw took him on a "mission", the first time he blasted someone with his powers. He would never forget when he first realized that the man might never get up again. It had given Janos enough nightmares to occupy his spare-time thoughts, all of them. He had so desperately longed for someone to comfort him.

I hadn't known that Azazel had covertly checked in with Shaw and Emma a few times over the years. He made sure they were training me and had not cast me off.

And then Azazel returned, in person. Six full years had gone by and I was now a young man.

We had had plenty of visitors over the years. Some of them were strange people, people like us with powers; others were various military and government men. Some of them stayed for a few days; some stayed for years. One or two of them quarreled with Shaw and eventually disappeared, and I don't to this day know what happened to them but I can imagine.

I remember where I was when I heard that Azazel was returning. I was working with Emma in the training room, and Shaw strode through the door. Upon glimpsing him, I forced myself to look calm and keep working.

"Get the guest room ready, Janos," he ordered. He looked at Emma. "It looks like Azazel might be ready to work with us at last."

Janos had been trying hard to hide the fact that he performed drudgery for Shaw and Emma, but he let this one slip. Either he is now more absorbed in the memories, or he can't think of a way to describe this next segment without having a reason for being inside the guest room.

Hearing Azazel's name excited me. I didn't always have a lot to look forward to, honestly. My leisure time usually involved watching television, listening to records, or reading comics. I rarely got to leave any of our various hideouts or spend time with people my own age, so hearing that Azazel would return gave me something to look forward to.

I cleaned the guest room more thoroughly than it had ever been cleaned. I moved each piece of furniture so that every inch of carpet could be vacuumed. I got on my hands and knees to scrub the tiles of the guest bathroom, I dusted every surface in the bedroom, and I even look a rag to the bedroom walls just in case they might have been unclean.

Emma had left a vase of flowers on the kitchen table, and I removed a few of the flowers, found an empty vase under the sink, and left the makeshift bouquet on the guestroom's desk. I knew where the stash of treats was kept and placed a few wrapped chocolates on the pillow. I don't remember ever hearing what Azazel thought of these extra touches; maybe I should ask him.

It is strange the things our memories do to us because truly, Angel, I can't clearly remember the first instant we saw each other again, that day in 1951 when Azazel returned. I do remember the sensation of nervousness tinged with excitement. I remember us shaking hands, again his grip so firm. And course I did notice that he now had his goatee and I recall liking it, liking the way it framed his mouth.

I remember him saying, "I hear that you have great powers! Perhaps we can train together."

I don't remember what I said but I remember swallowing hard.

I wasn't privy to the conversation that Emma had with Azazel shortly afterwards, but again he told me about it years later.

"Why did you stay away so long?" she had asked, though obviously the question sprang from her twisted sense of humor instead of curiosity. "Never mind; I know why. He's grown now, old enough. I was younger than that when Shaw plucked me." She quickly added, "Mind you, I'm still a young woman! You and Sebastian are such dirty old men."

Azazel told me that he had stood there silently as Emma had continued.

"Riptide – that's what we call him now – might be interested in you. He's still a virgin, you know. We've had a few parties with girls his age here but he never did much with them other than dance and maybe share a kiss or two. That is, closed-mouth kisses. He's just not attracted to them."

Janos considers telling Angel more but decides against it. The young woman has a very open mind – she is a former stripper; she's seen a lot. But even she has her prejudices – few people do not, especially when it applies to the group of people who society refers to as "queers". Besides, she doesn't need to know everything.

Janos had, of course, known that he was supposed to be attracted to girls - but he wasn't. He had known that wanting to touch and kiss other men was considered a sin, a mental illness, or just plain freakish. He had somehow known that having these feelings towards men in general – combined with his incredible powers – meant that he likely had a very lonely future in store.

Again Janos considers sharing one more bit with Angel, but he demurs. One day – a year or so before Azazel's return - Shaw and Emma had approached Janos and spoken with him about his desires. They told him that his feelings were not unnatural, and that men in ancient Greece had loved other men with impunity. As Janos had blushed and looked at his shoes, they had explained that the ancient Greeks had a myth about human nature. It was a creation myth which posited that there were originally three sexes: men, women, and hermaphrodites. Zeus sliced these beings into halves, leaving the halves to continually strive to unite with their corresponding other halves. The hermaphroditic beings were then men who sought to unite with their corresponding half, a female – or vice versa. All other beings would be what one termed a homosexual, seeking to reunite with their half, who was of the same sex.

This explanation had supported Janos through a very trying time in his youth. He will always be grateful to Shaw and Emma. He cannot hate them despite everything he has seen them do, everything they have done to him.

The next memory I have is of Azazel making good on his promise to train with me. My recollections of this experience are like brief glimpses – I think I was again just overcome with hormones and emotions and it's no surprise that I don't remember everything. I can't even imagine how I must have come across. I recall Azazel telling me that my English was progressing well. I remember that during our simulated fight, I knocked him over with a blast of icy wind and that felt odd, seeing him on the ground. I remember worrying that I was sweating too much. I remember thinking that Azazel just didn't look at all strange to me, that his unusual features were unique and striking in their handsomeness. And, of course, I remember looking at his mouth and new goatee a lot.

I remember much more clearly my brief interaction with Emma the following day. Azazel was meeting with Shaw in the forbidden office, I think, and I was preparing the kitchen for lunch. Emma came up behind me and put her hand on my back.

"Azazel wants to sleep with you," she said, as evenly as if she was telling me what she wanted to have for dinner. "If he invites you to his room for a drink or a talk, know that he might ask you to have sex with him. It's your choice if you want to or not, but if you don't want to, it's best to stay out of his room in the first place."

I appreciated her candor. One didn't usually speak openly of this subject, not in 1951. I thought she was brave, exciting, and dangerous.

I nodded towards Emma. I never said much to her or Shaw. I was used to silence and even preferred it. But my mind was a whirlwind and I decided a moment or two after Emma left the room exactly what I would do. I was filled with anticipation and a small pinch of fear.

I waited until the next time I could get Azazel alone. It was after the mid-day meal; another of Shaw's associates had arrived and spoken with the two men. I finally saw Azazel on the deck, sitting on what you would call a loveseat, his feet up. He was enjoying a drink. I didn't think of it at the time, but our base was secluded enough that Azazel could sit on a deck, outside, without fear of being seen and could breathe some fresh air. I now know that that is a pleasure he can rarely experience. The day was a fine one, too – early autumn with a crisp, cool excitement in the air and a few trees already beginning to change color.

I walked onto that deck, my heart pounding but my mind made up. I was doing everything I could to imitate Emma's stony confidence.

I sat next to Azazel and we exchanged pleasantries. The verbal exchange confirmed that I could speak without quaking; I could hold my voice steady. I scooted slightly closer to Azazel, so that our thighs touched. I was ready to jump out of my skin but I knew – fully, confidently knew – that I was driving him crazy too.

"Thank you for the moves you showed me yesterday. I – uh – I think there might be some other things you can teach me, in private." I guess I had learned well by observing Emma; I knew how to make my voice sound sexy.

I had been too afraid to look at him as I made the request, but once the words were out, I looked at his face. I had been right. This man was looking at me like he had walked across a desert and I was a large glass of refreshing water. He looked at me as if he had been praying the rosary every day for six years and the answer to his prayers had just appeared.

Azazel took a sip of his drink and set it down on the side table before he answered. "I would like to, very much. Are you certain this is what you want?"

"Yes," I said, and I was one bold young man, because I put my hand on his thigh at that point. "Your room is more private than mine – can we go there now?"

Angel looked at Riptide. The normally-silent man relaxed against the back of his seat. His eyes looked soft and content. "Wow. So – you've been together a long time then," she remarked.

"Yes," he said, his eyes glancing far away for a moment. "More than 10 years."

"But…so - isn't he old enough to be your father?" Angel asked, her brow furrowed.

Riptide shrugged. "I guess. I never think about his age. It doesn't matter to me."

Angel smiled. "Your story is kinda romantic. All this time together, and you've never slept with anyone else in your life."

Janos merely smiles and nods. He thinks to himself that women don't understand these matters. They think sex equals love and love equals sex. They don't understand that you can love your other half and, with their consent, experience sex with someone else just for physical thrills or just to see what it's like - without it negating the love and the bond you have with your other half. No, Angel would not hear of the experiences Janos had had with other men, experiences taken only after Azazel had encouraged them. There had not been that many; they had simply satisfied a physical desire and a curiosity, though Janos always preferred to make love with Azazel.

Riptide then smiled, took another sip of his drink, and asked, "What else do you want to know, Angel?"

Angel still had a grin on her face. Riptide rarely spoke this much and she was going to milk it for all it was worth. "Um…what do you think? I'm still back at that scene on the porch and your hand on his thigh. You were one brave teenager. So, get to the sex already! I want to hear about your first time with him."

"Now, Angel," Riptide responded, shaking his head, "I love you dearly but you don't need to know all the details. What do I need to say other than that he was wonderful?" With a tilted head and raised eyebrows he added, "I wouldn't have stayed with him if he hadn't been gentle and loving and all that."

Janos will never share the details with anyone else, this he is certain of. It's private, and it's hard to describe too.

Azazel had taught him very slowly and very gradually. That first afternoon, inside the immaculate guest room, Azazel had decided to teach Janos only kissing. He had not wanted to press him any further, had wanted Janos to have a chance to change his mind, so he simply spent minute after minute just kissing him. After many, many long kisses, Janos had grown impatient and had stripped off his own clothing, rubbing himself against Azazel's stomach once he lifted the older man's shirt, until he released onto Azazel's belly.

The second time Azazel had removed their clothing but had decided to teach only looking and caressing. They spent hours that day with Azazel teaching Janos how to touch the entire body of one's lover, and how to communicate one's own needs through touch. Again Janos was impatient; he would not realize the wisdom of Azazel's methods right away.

And so it went on, Azazel very slowly and gradually schooling Riptide, teaching him how to make love. Riptide gasped the first time Azazel showed him how to thrust between his lover's thighs, and he made noises such that he had never made before the first time Azazel demonstrated what lips and tongue could do. It was literally weeks before they started to learn penetration, with Azazel allowing Riptide to first experience what it was like to be inside one's lover.

No, Angel would not be hearing all of this.

Angel crossed her arms over her chest. "Well, I don't blame you for not sharing all the details, but I will say you're one lucky son of a bitch - you know that?"

"I know," Riptide said quietly. Angel had told him all about her experiences, her first time. She had not had a man like Azazel in her life.

"Of course," Riptide began again, a smirk spreading across his face, "Azazel is luckier."

THE END

Reviews are always appreciated.