The beams creak under the weight, but they never break. His hold is light, weight raised to the tops of his toes. His tail fans out to balance, and he crouches. It’s easier to see here, in the dark. Across, a metre away, a bird spreads its wings.
A vulture. No. An owl?
Gabriel watches, and tilts his head slightly as there’s a knock at the barn door.
Two-two. Pause. One.
“Hey!” Michael shouts, voice carrying through the breaks in the wood. “It’s the secret knock!”
It’s not secret when you say it, Gabriel thinks to himself with a sigh. Without a sound, he jumps down from the high ceiling, landing on his feet. He holds out a closed fist and opens it in a deliberate action. Shadow runes appear on the door before turning invisible once more, and it swings open.
“You make me wait anymore than that and I could get robbed,” Michael complains, kicking the door shut petulantly. Again, the runes flare, then fade. The wood bends and blends together, seamless.
“No,” Gabriel says, neutrally.
“Oh, well that changes everything,” Michael mutters half-heartedly, dragging his feet as he walks across the dusty ground to flop in the middle, a foot away from where Gabriel stands. He drops the paper bag he’s carrying on the ground and slams both palms on the earth. A purple fire splutters to life in front of him. He sighs, rolling his shoulders, stretching his arms behind his head before he flops backwards, kicking up a small cloud of dust.
“Whatever,” Gabriel responds, sitting down. He crosses his legs beneath him at the ankle.
“Aren’t you going to ask if I’m injured?” Michael says, looking up at the ceiling. He drapes his hand over his forehead.
“No blood,” Gabriel replies.
“Pft,” Michael scoffs, squinting through the gaps in his fingers, “It wouldn’t hurt you to pretend.”
“Why,” Gabriel says, quieter. He reaches for the bag and tears it neatly open.
Michael lets out a deep sigh and doesn’t sit up.
“Anyway,” Michael says, louder. He pushes himself into sitting up and shakes the braids from his face. “I got lucky this time. You should have the bigger portion. You need it.”
Gabriel doesn’t reply. The bread, he realises as he pokes it, is warm.
It’s warm?
“Michael,” he murmurs, softly. Michael blinks out of his stupor and meets Gabriel’s eyes.
“Mmhm?” Michael hums, a small smirk on his face. “What’s up?”
“Where?” Gabriel asks.
“Outskirts,” Michael says, smirk growing, “But you knew that, ‘cus it’s warm. Heh.”
Gabriel hesitates. Warm, his mind prompts, again. Fresh food. His stomach flips in excitement, squeezes.
“Don’t eat too fast,” Michael adds, as Gabriel takes the larger half of the loaf. “Take it slow.”
“I know,” Gabriel murmurs, almost childishly. He pulls a piece a few inches across and holds it up before putting it in his mouth. He chews slowly as Michael watches him like a hawk. He rolls his eyes, and Michael sticks out his tongue and blows a raspberry.
He takes his time to savour it. It’s the best thing he’s eaten in a long time.
A long time.
“Raphael?” Gabriel ventures, as Michael takes his smaller half and nibbles it.
“Yeah,” Michael says. “Told you, he owes me.”
Gabriel tears off another piece and chews that. His stomach constricts painfully. A familiar feeling. Thirsty. He takes the waterskin out of his pocket and takes a sip before he pauses, resting both hands on his knees.
Michael thinks when sat in such a way, as still as a statue, he looks like he’s meditating. His eyelashes are so long, Michael thinks, worrying his bottom lip as he watches. Even with the dust, the grime, the scars, Gabriel is beautiful.
“Michael,” he says. Michael nearly jumps.
“Y-Yeah?” he manages.
Gabriel points upwards without opening his eyes. Michael’s eyes follow to the bird, perched on the wood support beams.
“Oh,” Michael murmurs. “That’s an owl, I think. One of those snake-eaters. It looks like it’s in bad shape, though. It might be mutated.”
He frowns.
“That’s why you haven’t killed it,” he adds.
Gabriel nods.
“Good,” Michael mutters, “Tainted meat would be bad news.”
“Mm,” Gabriel hums, taking another bite of his food.
The pair lapse into quiet. The sound of the city outside is muffled within these rotting walls, but it still filters through to some degree. They need to be aware, after all. The sound of factories churning, the sound of people, the occasional scream or bang.
A rumble runs through the ground.
Michael slips a hand around a different bag he was holding onto, upending it onto his palm. He worries the object in his palm, looking at Gabriel nervously. Gabriel has not opened his eyes, but Michael knows he can feel that he’s being looked at. He doesn’t like being stared at.
“What?” Gabriel says, as expected.
“You were eyeing that ring in the jewellery shop,” Michael says, slowly.
The observation catches Gabriel off guard. His eyes open, and he blinks. A flash of surprise, then he’s guarded. He shakes his head curtly.
Michael smiles lopsidedly.
“It’s me, hotshot,” he says, gently, “I know you were looking.”
Gabriel peeks from where he’s turned his head away. His lips purse. For just a moment, he looks like the young adolescent he is.
“I had some…” Michael says, trailing off as he fishes for the word, “Stuff to trade in. So, um, here.”
He holds out his hand across the fire. The flames flicker harmlessly around his wrist.
Gabriel looks at the outstretched fist for a moment before putting his own hand beneath it, palm upwards. The magical fire tickles a bit, with strange coolness.
Michael pushes his hand down, let’s go of the ring, and intertwines their fingers.
Gabriel stiffens, visibly.
Don’t tell me to let go, Michael thinks with a desperate rush of adrenaline. Please don’t tell me to let go.
Where before Gabriel sat with unmoving ease, now he seems to bristle from within. Tension coils in his arms like iron wire, and he locks eyes with Michael. Unreadable pits of purple.
Michael finds dread dredging his stomach as his gut ties in a knot.
“It’s a present,” Michael manages, his voice a little strangled.
Gabriel blinks, no less tense.
“A present?” he echoes.
“Yeah,” Michael says, floundering, “You know… I… um. It’s something I bought for you. Because you like gold, don’t you?”
Golden bracelets glitter around his wrists. A cuff around one anklet. He could trade those in for food, but he hasn’t. He can’t afford them. They must come from his marks.
“I want you to have it,” Michael elaborates, passionately. “Please.”
He forces himself to relax the grip he has on Gabriel’s hand, until his fingers only rest against his, slack. A few seconds later, Gabriel relaxes, inch by inch, and his own fingers curl down to brush Michael’s.
Michael feels it akin to being shot.
He draws his hand away before he makes a fool of himself, and Gabriel brings the hand back to his chest, and then to eye level. It’s the golden ring he was looking at. It’s too big for his hands. He’s a bit gangly, his hands large, but his fingers are skinny. Bony. Cut with callouses, and breaks, and burns. He turns it around. An etching on the inside.
It suits you, it reads.
A small heart, an M inside of it.
Michael flushes a rather vibrant scarlet, scooting to face away from Gabriel. Despite only showing his back, his tufted tail wags in a bright neon sign of his flustered state. His heart rams in his throat.
Gabriel looks at him dubiously before sliding a ring off one of his horns, replacing it with the new one. He pushes that further down before putting the other after, keeping it in place.
Gabriel keeps watching as Michael’s tail betrays him, wagging back and forth. He peeks over his shoulder, through the finger’s he smushed against his face.
“You like it?” Michael mumbles, before clearing his throat, and with more confidence, adds, “Of course you do. I picked it out, after all.”
He puffs himself up, but he’s small, and the only large thing about him is how loudly he can shout.
Gabriel nods, his serious eyes very earnest.
“Good,” Michael says, hand darting out to snatch his half of the loaf and nibble it, hiding his face. “Good.”
ur giving me thoughts of lawrence desperately slurring his words as he blabbers about how pretty Adam would be pregnant and how he can’t wait to fill Adam with his pups.. holding Adams stomach when he’s in him to say how good he feels all nice and full
GODDDD then that just makes me think of like. adam teasing lawrence after he cums and they're tied like, "c'mon, lare, don't you wanna give diana a little sibling?" and his knot hasn't gone down all the way but lawrence starts fucking him again, almost mindless and very heavy against adam's back. and the entire time lawrence has his arms wrapped around adam's waist, palms pressing hard into him so all adam can feel is lawrence, lawrence, lawrence, everywhere
Mouth: Is there anyone you’d like to kiss right now?
I think there are probably several - perhaps not on the mouth, though. Elsewhere? I think Robyn’s always wanted to kiss Say’ri on the hand … .. . .. and as for the obvious Chrom, his forehead’s a pretty good place to be putting her mouth. Also eskimo kisses for Robin, always
