Gabriel’s jaw hung slightly open as he spotted a familiar figure moving through the ballroom, wrapped in a delightful semi-transparent floral dress. For a brief moment, he even questioned his own immortality and wondered if he was having a stroke — because there was no way someone had actually done that on purpose. Then he burst into loud laughter, unable to hold it in at the sight of Alasdair Bishop’s muscular body trapped within what was clearly, to him, a prison made of fabric. Instinctively, Gabriel adjusted the hem of his crimson cloak before the Nephilim could see him, stepping closer and slinging an arm around the younger man’s toned shoulders. “Little Bishop! Don’t we look dashing tonight?” he teased, casting a playful smirk as he gave him a once-over, eyes glinting with amusement. And yet, anyone who knew him well would have seen something more genuine on his face. Something even Gabriel refused to acknowledge, but that always seemed to surface in the presence of the celestial hybrid.
“Seriously, you look… good. Quick unrelated note: can I snap a picture of you? Posterity needs to remember this.” he joked, giving Alasdair’s bicep a light squeeze before letting him go. To be honest, Alasdair looked amazing—he would’ve looked amazing in a trash bag too—but Gabriel couldn’t help thinking that the dress had one unforgivable flaw: it hid the lines of the Nephilim’s hips—both front and back. And those were arguably his best features, second only to his brilliant green eyes. Still, the warlock couldn’t help but prefer the way he’d seen him in the past: in sweatpants or tight jeans, topped with that classic bad-boy leather jacket. It had looked more natural, more comfortable… more sexy.
“Putting the nonsense aside for a second, I heard about Aneirin leaving. I’m really sorry,” he said, raising his eyebrows and fixing Dair with an intense stare. He was obviously lying, since he didn’t give a damn about Aneirin’s departure. He’d barely known the guy. But he knew that with the Councilman gone, Dair had lost the security of a suite and all the comforts that came with being close to someone powerful. One might’ve thought there was real concern in Gabriel’s eyes, but this was Gabriel. He didn’t feel things like that… did he? “You holding up okay? Is there anything I can do to help?”
@alasdairxbishop