Chapter Text
His footsteps echoed on the white marble, its pristine surface showing his reflection. Shapes and colours, mainly, but he could tell it was him. Who else would it be?
The halls were silent. No praises of the Lord, no hymns or chants, nothing. A pin dropping would be louder than any scream of his.
The halls were empty. No angels, no souls of humans or animals, nothing. The sight of a crowd of his kin would overwhelm him.
The halls were dimly lit. No glow that every wall in Heaven emitted, no lanterns or windows, nothing. The faintest beam of sunlight would blind him more than bearing witness to Him ever had.
The halls were leading him somewhere. Every door along his path was locked, and there were no branching paths to lead him astray. They wanted him in one specific place. He was afraid to find out where.
…No. He wasn't afraid. That would mean he did not believe the Lord to be omnipotent and omnipresent, and that would mean he did not believe in His ability to protect His children. Gabriel was a good child.
I’m good, I’m good… He loves all of His children, including me.
…Including me?
He walked on, continued down the hall. They (who were ‘they’?) were waiting for him, and all he knew was that he shouldn't disappoint them, lest he compromise his status. His status was what aided him in doing his duty.
The corridor didn't have a single twist or turn. In front of him, in the distance, was a tall double door. Behind him was darkness, and it was creeping towards him the longer he kept staring. So, he walked.
Loud cracks sounded out behind him, so he hastened his pace. It was the marble fracturing. Why did he know this? He wasn't sure, but he didn't want to know what lay beneath this corridor.
Corpses. Their lifeless bodies, all in a pile, with a hard light spear piercing all of them.
…I didn't want to. ■■iel, I didn't want to. ■■p■■el, I didn't want to.
He hadn't done it because he wanted to. He wasn't guilty of any sin, he'd just been carrying out orders. They hadn't understood how Heaven would benefit from the Council’s leadership. They'd defied His Word, they'd gone against His Will.
■i■■ael, please come home.
I don't usually ask for anything from you, since I know you're busy with important things, but I need your help. I need your help.
He would get no help.
His hand reached for the door handles against his will, and pushed the double doors open. The light blinded him.
Unlike His radiance, this light was cold, piercing through his bones. It gnawed at his bone marrow and licked the hollow space clean. It snapped his bones in half, and then put them back together.
This light filled his lungs. It got into his blood, and into his pores. It hated him. It hated him, it wanted to drive nails through him. It wanted him drowned, hanged, drawn and quartered. It was pure hate.
…Slowly, he breathed in fresh air, and his vision began to adjust. He came to realise it was not hatred that he'd sensed, but fear. Overwhelming terror.
He was in the middle of a courtyard, surrounded by a crowd of his kin. They were keeping their distance from him.
Gabriel got up and looked around, only for those caught in his gaze to jolt away as if scalded. He tried to grasp someone's sleeve, just to notice his hand to be covered in blood, his gloves to be torn and armour dented.
The crowds parted and his kin rushed away from him when he stepped toward them. They were afraid. Why..? Wasn't he their archangel Gabriel? Wasn't he their-
“Please?”
He couldn't recognise his own voice. It was raw and desperate, saturated with deep, aching longing. He longed to be loved. He yearned for it.
“Please..! Please, tell me what I've done wrong…” He didn't know why he was begging. “I want to be better for you. I want to be good enough.”
Was he sobbing? Pathetic. Pathetic. And he was supposed to deserve Minos, acting like this?
…Wait. Minos? Why would I-
He awoke to the feeling of tightness in his chest and a lump in his throat, his limbs and wings constricted by the blanket to the point of nearly cutting off the flow of blood. Was this how fish caught in a net felt? Powerless, trapped, and their panic only working to get them stuck tighter. His struggling did him no good.
“Shh, Gabriel. ‘Tis alright.”
Minos..?
Two hands were gently holding both sides of his helmet, even as his body betrayed him and let out a whimper. He wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around the man and never let go.
The tightness in his chest turned into a deep pit of despair, clawing at him, attempting to drag him down. He was like a leaf in the water, unable to resist the current.
“Just a moment, my sweet angel. I am attempting to untangle thee from the sheets.”
Gentle. His voice was so gentle, and for it to be directed towards this undeserving, homicidal maniac of a pigeon… Gabriel couldn't comprehend it. The Lord didn't want him, the Council didn't want him, Heaven as a whole didn't want him. Why should Minos?
Hands carefully untangled him from the blanket, hands which he didn't deserve to have on him. Hands which should've hurt him. Hands which should've been wrapped around his throat, squeezing the last remnants of life out of him. Hands which should've torn him apart, limb from limb, and left him for dead.
His heart ached so bad he was afraid he'd perish on the spot. He wanted to curl up into a ball, but gentle hands prevented that.
“...There we go.”
The vague shape of what remained of Minos' face gazed upon him. Only the vague shape, as Gabriel's eyes were blurry with tears yet to be shed.
What remains of his-
He quickly found himself in Minos' arms, helmet-covered face against the man's chest as sobs took away his ability to produce words. His body hurt. Every part of him, emotional and physical, had been swallowed by despair. Heavy, stifling despair. Overwhelming, all-devouring despair. Unfixable, unkillable despair.
“Minos…”
…He sounded pathetic, pathetic, with his voice breaking like that. His arms wrapped themselves tighter around his only source of stability right now.
“I am right here, angel. Everything will be alright,” Minos whispered, hand gently stroking his back and wings. He knew just how to soothe a distressed angel.
How lucky did he have to be to receive this kind of love, despite everything he'd done? In spite of all the hurt he'd caused, in spite of all the fear and terror he'd sown. He was still waiting for when he'd have to reap the rewards.
“I’m sorry, Minos. I’m so sorry…”
“Shush, my dove,” his rock (his anchor) spoke softly. “Thou need not apologise for a thing.”
But he did! He needed to apologise for everything, every mistake and every sin, every wound and death and mistake and slight and-
“B-but… If I’m really sorry?”
Had Minos not told him countless times before to stop fucking apologising? So why was it then that he insisted on apologising to someone that didn't want to be apologised to?
“Please, cease apologising,” Minos sighed. “I understand thou art feeling immense guilt --whatever thy reason may be-- but for one moment, please focus on stabilising thy breathing.”
“My… My breathing is stable, I-”
He knew that was a fucking lie. A dirty, filthy lie. All this mouth of his knew was to spew lies, wasn't it? All he could think about was lies, all he could speak about was lies, all he could-
“...Angel.”
A hand cupped his cheek --stars, he wished he had the courage to take his helmet off in front of Minos-- and another found the base of his wings for scritches. Why had he ever allowed himself to be known so well?
“Yes?”
Why did he sound like a child expecting to be reprimanded? Like a child expecting to be yelled at, to be slapped, to be grabbed by the throat and-
“Breathe, Gabriel. Deep breaths.” Minos’ hand scritched the base of his wings. “We shall discuss thy troubles later, if thou wish. Only if thou wish.”
“Only if… I wish?”
Was this what a healthy relationship was supposed to be like? Not prying, but trusting the other to come to them if issues arose? Wasn't that… Wasn't that just begging for one party to keep huge secrets from the other?
“Correct. I trust thee to recognise when thy troubles become too much for thee to handle alone, and hope thou come to either me or V1 for aid when that occurs.”
Either him or the machine… He supposed the machine would listen, too, and figure out a way to fix him. Or maybe it'd just direct him to Minos.
“...Just shut up and hold me,” he muttered, and absorbed all the warmth he could get. He needed it.
● ● ●
…He’d gotten braver. A bit closer to what he used to be. Brave and selfless, infallible and unbeatable. A shield and a blade.
Gabriel had started sleeping in Minos' bed lately. The man was usually sitting at his desk writing, or reading next to him whenever he hauled ass to bed. A respectful distance. Despite said distance, he often awoke in the morning with his arms squeezing the living daylights out of Minos.
This morning was the same, with his fingers gripping Minos' robes so tightly it hurt. His hands were cramping just a tiny bit. A teeny tiny bit, nothing a little stretch could fix. A little massage from Minos, perhaps?
“Good morning, my radiant angel.”
A soft hand gently preened his wings, like they'd done so many times before. He had slowly begun trusting them to not wander too far from where they currently were. Agonising moment after agonising moment, filled with panic and dread several evenings in a row. Said panic lessening each time he consciously decided to let Minos hold him like this.
“...Morning.”
He breathed in the scent of hyacinths, and let his death grip on Minos loosen a bit. Minos wouldn't go anywhere. He was here now, and he wouldn't leave. He'd promised.
What… would I do if you left? I don't know.
“Was thy slumber peaceful?”
Gentle fingers found that spot at the base of his wings, the spot that was guaranteed to make him purr. How did he dare reveal his weaknesses to an enemy like this? An archangel would never do that.
I’m an archangel. A soft one at that, but an archangel nonetheless.
…This was how mornings were supposed to go. His arms around Minos, face buried in his chest, and purring loudly as he got his wings scritched. Kind of like a cat.
“I guess? I don't think I dreamt about anything this time,” Gabriel replied, his voice muffled by Minos' robes. “Though if I had, it would've been about you.”
“Mhm? If I could sleep, my dreams would be about thee as well.”
His heart wanted to burst out of his chest at that. What right did Minos have to be… this perfect?
“Stars, Minos…” He pried himself from the comfort of Minos' embrace, and wrapped his arms around the other's shoulders. “Stop being so damn cute.”
“...I personally would not use the term ‘cute’ to describe-”
“But I would, and I have done so. Take the stupid compliment.”
Gabriel lightly bonked the side of Minos' face with his, attempting to stifle the flutter of butterflies in his stomach when he did so. Nothing could stop those blasted bugs.
“I… suppose I shall, then.”
Hugging Minos like his life depended on it wasn't enough, he needed… He didn't know what he needed exactly, but a part of him wanted the man's gorgeous skin between his teeth. Minos' blood on his tongue.
…Bad. That's bad.
He wanted to stay here for the rest of the day. Rest of the day, rest of the week, rest of the month. Rest of eternity. Hell could collapse around them and he'd still stay right here, right where he was. Where he felt normal.
Gabriel wished he could just get absorbed whole into Minos’ very being, like reverse mitosis. Why couldn't they just be one person? Things would be so much easier like that. Not having to worry about the other leaving unannounced, being able to tell what the other was thinking, just…
Selfish. He was so, so, so very selfish for wanting that. No two people could own each other that perfectly and not end up breaking-
I would let him own me. I would, even if I got nothing out of it.
“Doth thy body yearn for a day of nothing but comfortable cushions and warm baths, my angel?” Minos inquired as he stroked one of Gabriel's wings. “All these luxurious delights, only for thee.”
“...Overindulgence is a sin.” His words were but a whisper. What did it matter that something was overindulgence or a sin? He couldn't fall any lower now.
“Mh, perhaps. But dost thou hear the manner in which thy body begs of thee? It wishes for nothing but a mere moment of indulgence.”
Minos' hand found the base of his wings again, and he had to fight the urge to let himself go boneless. He couldn't ‘fall’ this easily. He wasn't someone that could be enticed by a few nice touches and words.
“Don't tempt me like that, old man.”
He melted in the other's arms like butter in a pan. An atom-sized part of him felt ashamed to be acting like this, while the remaining atoms that made up the angel known as ‘Gabriel’ were encouraging him to give in.
Trust him. Trust him, give him your heart, let yourself be broken if that is what he wills.
“I am telling thee that for the love of all that is sacred, let thyself have something nice for once. Take a nice, long bath.”
…Oh, you son of a bitch. I hate you. All that build-up, for this ?!
Not that I’d be ready for… any other kind of indulgence, but you know. Hmph.
“So… You're saying I stink?”
Hearing that, Minos let out a heavy, heavy sigh. What? Wasn't that what he'd implied by saying something so… thoughtless?
“I meant no such thing, dove,” Minos replied. “What I implied was that a bath would aid thee in relaxation. It could ease-”
“Minos..! Have you no manners?” He feigned offence, which was rather difficult to do when his traitorous body was insistent on purring whenever Minos scritched his wing. “To tell an angel to bathe…”
“I apologise for choosing my words poorly. To remedy the situation, I shall prepare a bath for thee.”
You… I can't stay mad at you.
Minos pried himself from Gabriel's embrace and got up, the angel finding himself grieving the loss of his warmth. It'd be fine. His scent lingered.
“Make sure it's a bubble bath,” Gabriel requested as Minos headed for the en-suite bathroom. “And no hyacinth-scented soap, please. We can't have everything smelling exactly like you.”
“Thy preferences hath been noted. Anything else, Princess Gabriel?”
Princess? Princess?! He wasn't acting like a ‘princess’, he was making reasonable requests-
“...Shut up.”
“As thou wish, angel.”
And with that, he was left alone in the room, alone on Minos' bed. The sheets were still warm where Minos had sat just moments ago, and his scent too remained. He curled up right there. He'd keep the warmth, until it came time for him to get up as well.
…Minos was being unusually nice today. He didn't like doubting his… partner's intentions --it made him feel like an awful person-- but he couldn't help growing suspicious. Usually Minos was just ‘breakfast in bed’ nice, not ‘warm bath first thing in the morning’ nice. It felt… icky.
Talk to him about it. Talk.
He rested his head on Minos' pillow, and pulled the blanket and duvet over himself. The warmth would ease his worries. Minos was the kindest man he knew, so there was no reason for him to doubt the other. There was no reason for his doubt and fear. Minos was kind.
The sound of running water, and comforting humming. He couldn’t recognise the tune, much to his dismay, or if he’d ever heard it before. His wings wrapped around himself just a bit tighter.
Gabriel tried to imagine the sound of a bustling city outside of the palace walls, how things must’ve been back then. How he would’ve felt, had he sided with them instead of the Council, had he opened his eyes a few centuries sooner. Would he have eventually ended up here? In Minos’ bed, that was, on a lazy spring morning. Emotionally preparing for a bath. Emotionally preparing for the day ahead, a day spent with Minos. Indulging in whatever pleasures he could allow himself, smiling and laughing and-
No, no, no. Why should you be allowed to engage in something they no longer can? They can’t smile or laugh, because they’re dead. Dead , Gabriel!
He could imagine himself in this bed back then, slowly waking up next to a Minos that still had a face. Waking up, with the rays of sunlight coming in through the window --the curtains wouldn't be closed all the time, like they were nowadays-- and painting Minos in a lovely glow. He'd gently pry himself from the other's arms, and put on a fluffy bathrobe to cover his bare form. Not that he would mind Minos seeing him.
He'd then make his way to the balcony, gazing upon the bustling city, bathed in the morning sun’s glow. He would feel Minos' arms wrap around him from behind, and hear him whispering honeyed words in his ear. They'd return to the bed, and-
…Weren’t you supposed to get better? Daydreaming won't help.
He imagined them having breakfast out in the garden, sounds of the city nothing but a pleasant buzz in the background of their conversation. They’d have their three-course breakfast whilst enveloped in the scent of flowers, smiling and laughing and feeding each other spoon- or forkfuls of their own breakfast, breaking down giggling when he’d accidentally get whipped cream on Minos’ nose, and-
Stop. Gabriel, stop.
Then he’d be helping Minos with whatever duties he had, accompanying wherever he needed to go, like a guard dog. Minos would get offered freshly baked goods from a bakery as they walked past, and Gabriel would get some too. They’d get distracted in the middle of work and Gabriel would end up having to haul basket upon basket upon package upon sack of goods back to the palace, but it’d be worth it.
After arriving back at the palace, he’d be exhausted, but Minos would try to convince him to go out again. The city was even livelier in the evening, he’d say. Gabriel would trust Minos enough to be able to tell him no --he wouldn’t want to go out, since he was already exhausted from interacting with so many people that day-- and the other would understand.
They’d spend the evening cuddling on a couch in front of the fireplace, feeding each other chocolate-covered strawberries or something of the sort. Perhaps they’d share a glass of some really good wine, then another… And before long, they’d find themselves in their quarters, on the bed, with-
Stop, stop, stop, stop, stop..! Please, stop. I don’t need to imagine these things, I…
Gabriel felt that familiar ache in his chest. How did he dare dream about a future he could no longer achieve? Due to his own actions, he could no longer have a future where the city prospered. He could no longer have a Minos that was… whole. He'd broken something in the man that day, not just physically.
…He couldn't have this, he couldn't have that. Why was everything about him again? What the hell had he done to deserve anything here? What right did he have to bitch and moan about things when they lay dead beneath him? He'd taken their futures as well.
“Angel? Thy bath is ready.”
A soft voice pulled him out of his thoughts, and a hand yanked him into the cold reality by peeling the covers off of him. He supposed that was pretty effective in getting him out of bed.
“...I don't deserve you,” Gabriel sighed as he sat up, giving Minos' hand a light bonk with his helmet. “Thank you, Minos.”
He trudged towards the bathroom, and closed the door behind himself. Though there was a lock, he didn't consider it necessary, as Minos knew not to interrupt his bath. It'd be fine.
The bathtub looked pretty inviting. He couldn't see the water level since there were so many bubbles, but he assumed Minos had taken water displacement into account. The bathtub wouldn't overflow when he got in.
There were a few lit candles next to the sink, just to set the mood a little. Flower petals were scattered on the mountains of bubbles in the bath, and there was the faint scent of roses in the air, not enough to be suffocating.
Remove your clothes, enter the bath, and profit. That's simple enough.
Hesitantly, Gabriel began undressing. He had to do that, lest he wished to peel himself after bathing. First, the very oversized T-shirt. It had horizontal black and white stripes on it, and the image of some cartoon character on the front, with some text under it which he couldn't decipher. He just liked to wear it to bed for the sake of comfort.
Then came off his skirt. It was one of the knee-length ones, lightly coloured with a floral pattern. He'd started considering making his own skirts in the future, if he were to find some good fabric, but also possess the energy to sew anything.
Then, his second shirt, the one with long sleeves. Black, of course. He didn't want blood showing through.
He pried off the aforementioned shirt, carefully peeling it off where it'd gotten stuck in his arm due to the blood. There was no satisfaction to be had in reopening a wound like this.
Weren't you supposed to be happy? Why are you still doing this..?
Gabriel tossed the shirt into the heap by the door, and continued. The joy of a bath was quickly being drowned out by the deep, thick sorrow seeping out of his every pore. Despondency, even. Once again, he was reminded of… what he was now. What he'd become.
He stared at his reflection in the large mirror above the sink. On his almost bare form, his gaze wandered to his arms, their scars and torn-open wounds. His gaze wandered to his thighs, those stupid lines and stupid marks and stupid-
This won't help, Gabriel. It won't.
His fingers traced the scars, as if his body had a will of its own. A strange feeling of… satisfaction bubbled in his chest, and as sick as it made him feel, he also felt happy somehow. He had evidence of an action he'd taken, evidence which he could trace with a finger and behold with his eyes. They'd stay there for weeks, for months, for years… Decades even, decades if not centuries. Millennia.
…Disgusting. Did his selfishness know no bounds? To want tangible evidence of his own wrongdoings, how truly selfish.
He looked at himself in the mirror again. His stupid overall shape, designed and sculpted for combat millennia ago. His stupid hips that stuck out a bit too much, bony to the touch. His stupid chest, which was just a bit too… He hated looking at this stupid caricature of what he felt like he should be.
He didn't want to be built for combat. He wanted to be anything but built for combat, he didn't want to be something that could only kill. That was what he was, even though he didn't want to be.
Can't I be… soft and squishable? Someone he'd like to cuddle with?
Misshapen, malformed, ill-proportioned… He hadn't been made for a life of luxuries and comforts, warm baths and delicious treats. He'd been made for bloodshed. For intimidation, for delivering swift judgements. For dealing fatal blows, for dishing out death and punishments. For drowning in his own blood, for laying sprawled out on the floor with the machine’s heel digging into his chest, for sitting on his knees getting chastised and reprimanded. For being a good angel. A good boy.
His body couldn't deteriorate from this, but could it… Was it worth the effort to find out? He'd have to start eating proper meals daily, not just breakfast and the occasional dinner, which would mean he'd have to summon ingredients in bulk. That would mean worse headaches. More nausea, which would make him unable to keep much food down.
Evenings would be a fine time to summon things. I could sleep the headache and nausea off, in Minos' arms.
…Perhaps he could do that. If he remembered, that was.
With a heavy sigh and a lot of effort, he managed to pull himself away from the mirror. He took off the remaining bits of clothing --just underwear and socks-- and stepped into the bathtub.
Stars… The water was just comfortably warm. Not too hot, not too cold. He slipped beneath the water, just enough so that his helmet remained above. He wasn't about to remove that.
He was glad he couldn't see the rest of himself through the heaps of bubbles. That was why he'd specifically requested a bubble bath, wasn't it? So he wouldn't have to look at this sketch of an angel, this unfinished sculpture.
…Work in progress. I’m a painting still on the easel, with just the base layers of paint there, waiting to dry.
Minos can appreciate art, can he not? I have nothing to worry about. Nothing at all.
Gabriel breathed in the scent of roses, and cleared his head. It was nice having no thoughts scuttling around in there. He'd felt the same sense of peace whenever he'd been given an order, as orders gave him a clear line to follow. Stay on the path, and you can't go wrong.
He soaked in the bath, doing his best to keep his head empty. He was a clean slate, a tabula rasa, a perfect angel. He was moldable clay, still-flowing wax. He could become anything Minos wanted him to be. It might hurt, but he could become whatever Minos wanted of him. If he wanted a normal person, a normal person he would receive.
…Gabriel himself was the one that wanted to be a ‘normal person’. Minos hadn't said anything suggesting he wanted Gabriel to be normal, not that he recalled.
Ask him after the bath, if the thought still bothers you.
That… was what he'd do, yes. It sounded like a smart thing to do. He was smart, wasn't he?
You're smart, you are. Good angel.
Praising himself like that in his head tended to make him slightly happier. It reminded him of the good days, when he'd been the happiest. An angel was at its best when serving, right?
Ugh… Enough.
● ● ●
The water was growing colder, he'd noticed. Still, he was hesitant to begin washing himself, as he didn't want to move on from this moment. He didn't want the day to pass. He wanted to always wake up content, in Minos' arms, with nothing to worry about. If he stayed here, tomorrow wouldn't come.
He couldn't tell what time it was, which he actually preferred. He wouldn't have to worry about having been here for too long. Time wouldn't pass if he was here. It wouldn't.
…What if this was all just a bad dream? What if when he'd go back out there, the city would still be standing, as busy as ever? The city would be there, Minos would be his old self, and everything would be like out of a fairytale. He'd be happy, and everybody would like him again.
If he never stepped outside the bathroom, he'd never have to face the fact that he had done all those awful things. He'd be a good person. He'd be a worthy lover. He'd be anything and everything he wasn't right now.
Wishful thinking. You know everything's the same when you step out.
With a sigh, he sat up, and reached for the bottle of shampoo or whatever. He'd need it for his wings, if not anything else. Unfortunately for everyone, he only managed to make the bottle fall over, sending it clattering onto the floor.
Phenomenal work, Gabriel. You fucking klutz.
“Angel..? Art thou alright?”
A concerned voice, and a creak of the door. Excellent, his blunder had made Minos worry. About his well-being, no less. Was the other afraid he'd find Gabriel in a puddle of blood, with his helmet cracked open and brain matter leaking out? Was he-
“H-huh? Yeah, I’m… I’m alright,” he muttered, feeling his whole body tense up. This wasn't good. This wasn't fine. He wasn't fine.
“Good, good.” Minos peeked into the room, and noticed the shampoo bottle on the floor. “Dost thou require my aid with anything?”
Do I have to ask? You know I… Fine, fine.
“Yes, if you would be so kind.”
Gabriel sank back into the tub when Minos entered the bathroom, afraid the bubbles in the bath would suddenly disappear. He wasn't a big fan of… Well, this wasn't… Let us just say that seeing someone nude for the first time when bathing wasn't exactly the most romantic thing. He wanted it to be special.
“Hath the bath been to thy liking?”
Minos crouched down next to the tub, and in that moment, Gabriel could swear he fell in love all over again. He didn't know how, or why. He just did. Minos cared about him, cared about how he felt, and that was more than he ever thought he'd deserve.
“...I love you.”
The words left him before he even realised it, and when they finally hit him, he felt his wings flush pink. Stars, wasn't he being bold today?
“From… that I conclude thou art enjoying the bath.” Minos' hand gently stroked his wing. “I am glad to hear that, and I love thee as well.”
He melted at that. Good angels were obedient, dutiful, and easy to please. Who wouldn't want to be a good angel, especially when being good made him feel like he was worthy of this affection?
A purr escaped him, but he didn't mind. Minos deserved to know he was happy. He… He didn't know what to even think anymore, all he could think of was the gentleness of Minos’ hand on his wing, and the comfort it brought. He'd even forgotten about the fact that he was currently taking a fucking bath.
“Mh…”
Gabriel..! Get a grip! You're in. a. bath. You're in a bath, you're not supposed to-
“Thou art this starved of affection, hm? We shall remedy that later.” Minos gave Gabriel's wing a few strokes, and picked up the bottle of shampoo. “May I aid thee in-”
“Huh? Yes, yes! Of course.”
He couldn't believe how excited he got upon hearing that. Minos wanted to shampoo his wings, maybe even fully wash them..? Fully wash him?
Fully wash… me? Oh, no. No.
What the hell was wrong with him? Why was he suddenly… acting like some lovesick puppy? He felt no shame, however, which was odd. He usually did.
…Like a child. You're acting like an easily excitable child.
His wings fluttered when Minos began gently massaging shampoo into them, and he had to stifle the urge to curl up in the other's lap in that very instant. He subtly shook his head to rid himself of such thoughts.
“Eager today, are we not?”
“I-I guess…” He sat up properly, and pulled his knees close to his chest, resting his head on them. His chest ached hearing that soft tone of voice.
Why did his wings have to be so stupid and so… so damn sensitive? His purring was interrupted by the occasional muffled whine, something which he hated. He wanted to be normal right now. He wanted to be normal, he…
“Remember to tell me if thy wings are particularly sensitive anywhere, angel. I wish to not cause thee any unnecessary distress.”
Did Minos think he was hurting him? No, no no no… They couldn't have that. They couldn't have that at all, they-
“It's… fine.” Gabriel let out a small, awkward laugh. “That spot’s just a bit, um… ticklish, that's all.”
Minos nodded, signalling that he understood. Good, good… He hadn't just compromised their relationship in any way. Phew.
Two gentle hands worked the shampoo deep into his wings, beneath and between his feathers. To Gabriel, this felt akin to getting a thorough massage, a thorough massage times one thousand.
An angel's wings were sensitive for a reason. No one was meant to touch them, no one except those that the angel was really close to. Unfortunately for Gabriel --or fortunately, depending on who one asked-- he'd never been that close to anyone before. Perhaps that was why his wings were this sensitive. Like eyes that had never seen light, or ears that had never heard sound.
Hadn't his wings been touched before? Had those wing scritches meant nothing? Well… Those had been surface-level. This was like Minos was reaching into the depths of Gabriel's soul and gently petting it. Reaching into the core of his being, and carefully cradling the fragile little thing instead of shattering it. He figured most would've let it shatter.
…He could fall asleep to this. He almost was asleep, only kept awake by Minos' familiar voice talking to him about something. He couldn't focus on what it was exactly that he was being told.
How would they spend the rest of the day? Cuddling on the couch, he hoped, with Minos reading some book out loud. Or maybe they'd spend the day in the garden. He wasn't quite certain, so he'd probably let Minos decide, and he'd just go with the flow.
“Gabriel, my sweet angel.” Minos’ hand gently lifted Gabriel's face up by the chin. “What hath thy mind so preoccupied?”
“You,” he replied without hesitation, for once not feeling embarrassed to admit that fact. It would be a fucking miracle if Minos wasn't on his mind, to be honest.
“Mhm? What about me fascinates thee so?”
Minos’ hand rubbed circles into Gabriel's back, just for the sake of doing so. He would've melted further into the touch if he could.
“Everything. Just… everything.”
● ● ●
A gentle hand patted him dry with a towel as he sat on the edge of the bathtub. The gnawing feeling of shame was crawling back into his chest the longer he sat there, completely bare and vulnerable in front of… in front of Minos. It was terrifying.
Yet, the man was completely calm and collected seeing him like this. Seeing all his scars and flaws, seeing him in all his misshapen glory. This malformed, unsightly form of his.
Run, you idiot. Run, before I trap you here with me forever.
Once his stupid body had been sufficiently dried, those tender hands and a towel moved to pat his wings dry. He stifled a shaky breath.
He gripped his knees, and bit his lip to stop himself from making any stupid moves. He'd caused enough trouble for the day already, hadn't he?
…Minos would silently endure and fix whatever trouble Gabriel caused, time and time again, day after day. Why? Because he was soft like that. He couldn't resist helping a broken little bird.
Broken little bird… Ha. I’m more like a trainwreck. A puzzle for him to work on.
Wasn't he meant to be better? He'd promised both himself and Minos that he'd become a better person. This wasn't how a good person thought.
He… was tired. Becoming somebody that Minos deserved was exhausting. Getting up every single day and having to consciously decide to be nice, having to constantly monitor his own thoughts. Remembering all that he'd done to others, remembering all that he'd done to himself, remembering all that'd been done to him. It was beyond tiring.
“...Minos?”
Gabriel's gaze remained on the tile floor, fixed on that one tiny crack in the corner of a tile. He couldn't slip out and away through that, unfortunately.
“Yes, Gabriel?”
“Do we… May I just lay in bed for the rest of the day?” He asked, his voice getting quieter and more uncertain the longer he spoke. Didn't he know that he didn't have to ask Minos for permission to rest?
“That is thy choice to make, not mine.” Minos handed over a fluffy white bathrobe. “Of course, I shall also accompany thee, if thou wish.”
Minos, I don't want to make choices. I always end up choosing wrong.
Silently, Gabriel wrapped the bathrobe around himself, glad to finally have something to hide this stupid body beneath. He was actually starting to feel a bit nauseous thinking this much about himself.
He let Minos gently lead him out and seat him down on the bed, before the man sat down next to him. Gabriel automatically leaned in for warmth, and that was exactly what he received, in the form of two arms wrapped around him.
Please drill it into my head that I can be loved. Please shove that knowledge so deep into my brain that I can't lose it again.
His mind once again wandered to what-ifs and should-haves. What if he'd realised how misguided they'd been a little sooner? He should've seen his triple (quadruple) defeat at the machine's hands coming. What if, after his ‘fall’, he'd stumbled upon Sisyphus instead of Minos? He should've been a better angel. What if his remaining kin were still waiting for his return? He should've accepted his death in Treachery.
What if Minos really, truly loves me? What if he doesn't?
“Dost thou crave breakfast, my dove?” Minos inquired all of a sudden. “I shall make anything thou wish to consume, provided that we have the required ingredients.”
“I’m not hungry.”
Though the offer was sweet, he declined. The nausea from seeing his own hideous form had yet to subside.
As if to insult him, his stomach growled. It got a chuckle out of Minos, so Gabriel felt a bit less embarrassed, but… His body was betraying him.
“Art thou absolutely certain?”
Shut up… I don't need this. I just need a very, very long nap.
“...Just make me the stupid crêpes,” he relented with a heavy sigh, receiving wing scritches as a reward for his honesty. They could have some crêpes and then take a very long nap.