Sanguinius x reader Part 6 of 7 - thank you again for indulging me on this. Part 7 will be tomorrow – New Fic Writer Anon.
The next night, you couldn’t help yourself. After tossing and turning for an hour or two, you went for a short walk again.
You were surprised that no one stopped you, although you were not naïve enough to think no one was watching. You did not pause in front of the door this time, reaching your hand to the scanner and walking in when the display turned green.
You walked in, dim lighting greeted you. And there was Sanguinius, sitting with a book open in his lap, wearing a simple red robe. “Oh… um… sorry my Lord, sorry to interrupt, I’ll just..”
“Wait – wait.” And then, softer, “you don’t need to go.”
“I – um – “ you were suddenly conscious of the fact that you were wearing your night-robe. What had you been thinking? You know damn well what you were thinking. You tried to shake that thought off before he saw you blush.
“Come here, please.” A request, but not one you ever could have refused. Even if you’d wanted to. He placed the book on the table next to him.
You walked closer, until you stood beside the Angel. You tried not to stare, tried not to feel the heat radiating from him – no wonder these rooms are so cold.
He asked, with sincere curiosity, “why do you run?”
You mumbled something about “inappropriate.” He raised an eyebrow. “If it were inappropriate for you to be here, I would not have let you in.”
Of course. You felt silly. Why had you worried about being caught? The damn door had been coded to let you in, and there was only one person who could have authorized that. “What I’m afraid of,” you confessed, “is looking like a complete idiot in front of you, my Lord. Which I think I am right now.”
Sanguinius graced you with a warm smile, and a look of kindness and understanding. He shook his head. “No, not at all. You look like someone who has seen things that have no right to exist. And you survived, and you are whole. But you are easily startled now, and that is natural. It is nothing to be ashamed of.”
You relaxed, feeling more at ease. He was right, of course.
“I need to know something,” his eyes were still kind, but more intense. “Do you fear me?”
“No – no, of course not, my Lord,” you said. “You are our Primarch. Our Great Angel. You saved us all from - Why would I fear you?”
He closed his eyes, took a deep breath. He opened them, and left the chair. Wings rustling, the Angel went to his knees in front of you. He reached out and took your hands in his. Oh. So warm, strong, he held your hands as though they were a fragile treasure.
“Because,” he said simply, “that is how I was made. My Father made me, along with my brothers, to strike fear into the hearts of our enemies.” He sighed, “and of course that means that we also leave our allies so bloody terrified that they can do nothing but obey us without question.”
He began gently stroking your hands. You wanted to hang on his every word, but it took effort to tear your focus from his touch.
“I am seen more as a symbol than a person. That is my role, and I gladly serve. I am more than human, but I am still human. The Imperium loves me from a distance,” he said almost wistfully, “but the moment I am close enough to a human to look them in the eye, I can sense their fear of me.”
“But not you. Somehow, not you.”
He lifted a hand to stroke the side of your face. And then – that look you had seen, in the eyes of your comrades, before they paired off and disappeared. The look of longing, the need to be held, and touched, and –
You saw that in the Angel’s eyes now, as he looked at you. Oh. Oh by all the stars yes. And you knew he saw the same need in yours.
And you also realized, in that moment, how neatly you’d been caught. You’d been taken out of your barracks, far from your comrades, and placed in a gilded cage. And although the door was open, in truth you were only free to fly to him. The apex predator, who now held his prize in his hands.
It was good, then, that you couldn’t remember ever having wanted anything more.
The Angel caressed your cheek, then touched your lips, tracing them with his forefinger. Your heart hammered in your chest, and you nearly forgot to breathe. He leaned closer, until his lips were an inch from yours.
“May I kiss you?” he asked, and you found that you couldn’t form words. You nodded. Taking your inability to speak for hesitation, he asked again, “are you sure?” You still couldn’t speak, and you couldn’t wait. You reached up, slid your hands behind his neck, tangling in his soft, golden hair, and kissed him.
He started, surprised for a moment, and then kissed you back, hard and deep. Your knees went weak and it took effort to hold yourself up.
He broke the kiss, pressed his forehead to yours, breathing hard. “I did not – expect that—”
“Too bold?” you asked, concerned.
“No – no, not at all. I mean that – when I am close to someone, in a duel, battle or – or like this,” he said, stroking the side of your face, “I usually see flashes, images, of what will happen next. Usually. But I see nothing of what you will do.”
Your mind spun. You tried to comprehend what it would be like to know, at the start of an intimate encounter, how it would end. You supposed you could avoid a lot of disappointment. But then, you would also lose the thrill of anticipation. It hardly seemed fair. He was quite possibly the most beautiful being in the whole galaxy, and –
And now, here you were, with him. A grin spread across your face that you hoped wasn’t too wicked.
His forefinger was on your lips again. You put it in your mouth.
He inhaled sharply, closing his eyes. When he opened them, he gave you a searing look that set every nerve in your body on fire.
“I think we should go to bed, yes?” he whispered.
You found your voice. “Yes.”
