An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
rating: E
words: 3,588
relationships: Gabriel/Michael
other tags: Depowered Gabriel, Depowered Michael, Apartmentverse, Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation, Road Trips, Sharing a Bed, First Time, Developing Relationship, Ambiguous Relationships
status: complete
summary:
On the one hand, this isn’t actually all that different from if Michael was doing the same thing on a hypothetical different bed the same distance away, and Gabriel probably wouldn’t think much of that at all. That happens at home semi-regularly. It’s a bodily function — a flattering one, but still, just a thing the bodies they’re in now do, same as any other. It would be incorrect — and risky, with the improving but still-fragile state of the group dynamic — to think of it as anything much more interesting than a sneeze.
Penis problems. Cock concerns. Wiener woes. Michael has them.
“Noma’s wings,” Michael sighs at last. “I don’t know if there is anyone in the world I would do that for but you.”
“And I would give you mine to replace them,.” Gabriel reminds him, as he had in that storm, as he had in that eyrie. He lifts his eyes to the wings still cruelly pinned to the wall, like a grotesque tapestry.
Kith (I don’t think I’d ever be over this one) and actually, initially inspired by The Eyrie both by the amazing drinkbloodlikewine and suntosirius. Inspiration is inspiration, and the two of you are the best.
Reference used (x)
It’s still just a sketch, I know but...Everything hurts! Q^Q
Also you’ll never even unconvince me that, when they were younger, Gabriel hasn’t had fits every other day for Michael’s chaotic hair. “You’re supposed to be God’s Wrath embodied, at least brush your hair for Father’s sake, you can’t even see who you’re cutting down!”
Haha, I haven’t had such issues before those fics I started gushing about under my last fanart, but Gabriel always brushing the strands out of Michael’s forehead is doing things to me! Q.Q
How to pinpoint the exact time I read too much and way too amazing fanfic for my own good. And when I need some extra help to deal with Dominion and my feels.
I blame this all on drinkbloodlikewine and suntosirius and these gorgeous fics, Kith, especially. If you haven’t read them, do yourselves a favour, and drop everything for them.
The look between two people in which each loves the other but is too afraid to make the first move.
A/N: S02E07 fix it of some sorts, because I won’t forever be over how this episode ended. So this is a way for me to deal with the emotional trauma that this episode caused me. On another note I’d like to point out that I’m only at the fanartig stage of being active in this fandom, and haven’t reached the fanficcing level just yet. So, insecurity enues. Forgive me if I failed to do our favourite archangels justice.
On AO3
Michael didn’t leave without him to save his Chosen One.
Michael didn’t leave him, didn’t let go of him, didn’t allow Gabriel one last heroic act to show he finally understood what his brother shared with Alex. No. Michael clung to his arm with all his shivering strength and dragged him through that door, smouldering and followed by the stench of burnt meat and leather. Somehow they made it out of New Delphi. Somehow they made it through miles of underwood and dust until they wobbled into a broke-down mall.
Now they staggered around blood-covered corpses of Eight-balls. One of them had a comb sticking out of his eyesocket. This really wasn’t the place where they should be right now. Gabriel, maybe, but Michael? Definitely not. He tried to make his brother see reason, but he was relentless. He simply pulled Gabriel tighter against his side, and kept marching on, his eyes scanning the shelves in the grey light.
“I wonder if they have a lighter,” Michael murmured softly under his breath to himself just as Gabriel was about to nod off.
It wouldn’t do to become dead weight now. Michael was probably at the end of his strength at this point, even if he no longer had to deal with the agonizing pressure of those Empyrian nails at the base of his wings.
Gabriel swallowed down a little gasp and all the sparks that burst on his tongue as Michael adjusted his grip around his waist.
“I have much more pressing concerns,” he rasped. In an instant, his brother’s eyes were on him, night-bright with worry. “Do you think they have some pudding left? Not that metal-canned abomination, but some decent one.”
Keeping a straight face proved to be a more difficult task than latching onto that lead back at Julian’s torture chamber.
Michael, on the other hand had no such inhibitions after he processed that Gabriel was playing with him. He stared, but his eyebrow slowly crept up towards his hairline, and an incredulous smile grew in the corner of his mouth.
He was only one thought away from dumping his sorely injured brother on the floor.
“You should see your face,” Gabriel taunted, finally with a toothy grin.
Michael’s expression shifted almost imperceptibly as he delivered his deadpan reply, “It’d be certainly a more pleasant sight than yours.”
However, as he continued to gaze into Gabriel’s eyes he looked more bemused now. Relieved.
Their faces were so close. So close they could feel the heat of the other’s cheek and the sparkling electricity on their breaths even through the layers of sweat and blood caked grime on their skin.
An overwhelming sense of longing pulled Gabriel’s insides into a tight knot. It was an entirely new kind of crippling pain that came nothing close to the seizures that only hours ago tore through his muscles. This feeling cut deeper than any clever torture device ever could.
Michael didn’t leave without him. Michael didn’t leave him behind.
Oh, how easy would it be to reach up and caress that face that was as familiar as his own, but eternally more precious. How easy would it be to press his finger to the corner of that endearing little smile and with a blue spark, or a gentle press of his own, seal away the memories of spat out contempt and hissed threats that had ever left those lips.
How easy would it be...?
Michael returned Gabriel’s look steadily with his soft, darkened eyes. His smile seemed, for a second, to have turned into that kind of smile that wasn’t even there, but radiated through his entire being with a reverent glow.
Then suddenly it was all gone. Pain flashed through Michael’s features, and he lost his balance. The two archangels staggered, and tumbled against a discarded shopping cart.
Gabriel couldn’t help the groan this time. He took the worst of their fall. No matter how quickly Michael tried to regain his bearings, he still pressed Gabriel into the metal wires of the cart, and that took up the charge that still circulated in the angel’s body, then promptly returned the shocking sensation to the sender. His brother got his fair share of it, no doubt, but he didn’t show any sign of it.
Immediately, hands he could always trust to be secure in their grasp pulled his arm back around Michael’s shoulder, and this time Gabriel was held even tighter. As if he would flee if he wasn’t shackled to his twin’s side.
“Gabriel,” Michael called insistently. He nudged at his brother until he finally lifted his head and met his gaze. “Gabriel?”
“I’m good. Don’t you worry about it,” Gabriel answered with a weak grin. There was something breathtaking about the universe in Michael’s eyes. Especially as his lashes fluttered shut over a silent little sigh of relief. Gabriel would have missed it all if he blinked.
Michael looked at him, just a breath longer, then focused his attention ahead again. Intent hardened his features.
Okay, I’m going to sit down to fill that Dominion Michael/Gabriel prompt I got. I swear, I haven’t been this anxious about writing a fic in forever. I want it to be really good, but we’ll see to that.
Since it’s my birthday I decided I’ll allow myself some sloppiness. Ugh, I hate linearts. And colours. And backgrounds. And stupid archangels who just cannot get their shit together. Ugh.
