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can we pause it, just for one kiss?

Summary:

Once more, guns and swords meet in a fight. This time, the swords win, but an unexpected result comes of this. Neither of them mind the new change to their relationship.

Notes:

im so hyperfixated on these two its unreal

Work Text:

It was being watched.

 

As it roamed the halls of Violence, every sensor on edge with the eerie blankness of it all, it could practically smell that it was being watched. The flicker of a shadow in the corner of its vision, the occasional rustle of clothes in the distance..

 

Who was following it?

Every time it swung its gaze around the rooms, nothing could be seen in any direction but lifeless white. It was, undeniably, on edge. Not an unfamiliar emotion, though it wasn’t quite sure if what it felt could be considered an emotion to begin with. Did humans feel whatever counted as their wiring tense, their senses stretching to accumulate as much input as possible?

It didn’t matter what humans felt. They were all dead, anyway.

 

It paused in its tracks, instinctively reaching for the gun at its hip. The clarity that reached its processors – that only happened when Gabriel was around. Any other moment of the day, there was not a single thought in whatever counted as its mind. It was so aware of itself now.

 

The ground disappeared from beneath its feet. Its wings flared instinctually, catching the air enough to stabilise itself. Sparks flew and metal hissed as it connected with a locked gate – it was vaguely aware of the eyes on the gate glowing white as they watched its head bounce off the metal and roll for a long, disorienting minute.


It struggled to its feet, gripping the gun hard enough that its knuckles creaked. Gabriel stood, as expected, where it had just minutes prior. He already had both swords drawn, ready for inevitable bloodshed. Of course. Why would it expect anything else? All of their encounters ended in bloodshed.

 

“Machine,” Gabriel hissed, his own wings flapping in the emptiness. “It’s been too long.”

Not long enough.

 

Another clash of metal. Their weapons sung in the air as they connected over and over again, sword to arm and gun to armour. More sparks flew, occasionally meeting the angel’s flesh and resulting in a grunt of pain. It found that it rather enjoyed the noises he made. The demons in Hell did not make such noises when they were wounded.

 

Gabriel was fast. He always was – it was usually faster. Not this time.

 

An alert – it was overheating, burning more fuel than it was taking in – popped up, obscuring its vision temporarily. More than enough time for a sword to swing completely through its arm. It did not feel pain, but rather the emptiness that surged through it as a result. It had grown rather used to having that arm there.

 

Thrown off balance, it had to overcompensate for the missing arm with its wings. Gabriel, gleeful in his hint of success, was charging again, swords extended and entwined to a point. It flapped its wings, mimicking his own movement only minutes prior, and leapt into the air. Gas puffed from its ankles, propelling it forwards until it was able to grab onto the wall and rest there.

 

It had narrowly avoided the swords. Gabriel found contact with the floor instead, making some noise that registered as surprise in its systems. He adjusted swiftly, though, tearing his blades from the false grass around them and pointing them at it once more. He did not attack quite yet. His chest heaved beneath that armour of his, a sure sign that he was growing as exhausted as it was.

 

Except it had spent the past hour and a half punching bullets through rather difficult enemies, ones that did not offer enough fuel to replace that which was burnt in combat. Another alert popped up in its vision, accompanied with a ding that it had learned to acknowledge as an emergency. It was running low.

 

Extra power conservation would have to suffice. The world around it dimmed as it turned down the brightness and its field of view. The extra, bright green arm on its side dangled limply, and its wings folded tightly into a small compartment on its back. The less limbs to worry about, the more power could be saved.

 

Gabriel seemed particularly delighted by this development. A laugh tore from his throat, as manic as it was surprised.

 

“Are you losing, machine?” He taunted, ever the prideful opponent.

 

It took its chance once more while he was distracted. Some things would never change. It launched from the wall, kicking off of it and flying through the air until its fist met the side of Gabriel’s head. He yelled out and stumbled backwards, slashing his sword blindly, instinctually.

 

It was not fast enough. The sword screeched as it sliced through the hard exterior of its body. A dent was leftover, dribbling excess fuel from a torn wire. It stumbled unsteadily, shaking its head in an effort to clear the multiple alerts that popped up as a result. Gabriel took the chance while it was recovering and swung at it again.

 

It couldn’t get away.

Both swords sliced through it over and over again, until it could scarcely see Gabriel through the bright red flashing in its vision. He laughed with glee, kicking at its knee to unbalance it. His method worked and before it could even process, its head was knocked against the ground harshly enough for something to shatter.

 

His foot was on its chest. It squirmed beneath him in an effort to shake him off, to no avail. He only dug his heel into the already dented metal, forcing it to remain still to avoid further damage. With cracks and blaring alarms across its screen, it wasn’t quite sure how Gabriel was reacting to this sudden turn of events, but it suspected that he was not disappointed in himself.

 

“I knew it,” he boasted. “I knew I could defeat you.”

 

It did its best to remove the alarms, finding a higher priority in watching Gabriel than paying attention to the many injuries it had sustained.


“At the end of the day, you’re just scrap metal. Nothing compared to an angel like myself.”

His voice wavered at the end of his sentence. It didn’t have time to figure out why.

 

He was kneeling on top of it. Just the boot he wore alone was the size of its torso, and now he was kneeling on top. It squirmed again, but between the limp weight of its dead arm and the heavy weight of Gabriel settling down, it was near impossible to move. Even as its feet kicked at the ground and its heels dug into the grass. Even as it reached up with its free hand and attempted to wrestle that foot off of its chest.

 

It was stuck.

 

Was it going to die here?

 

It stared up at Gabriel. Gabriel stared back down at it. 

 

He shifted to straddle its waist, holding it down with both obnoxiously large hands instead of his foot. His thumb grazed the dent his sword left in the metal of its chest, seemingly surprised at the damage caused. The instant it brushed over the exposed wire, it was squirming and kicking again, puffs of air escaping its system that resembled wheezes and hisses of effort. 

 

“I’ve been observing you, machine. I have seen how you fight, and how your body works. I know that these creatures are difficult for you.”

 

It stopped its struggling to stare at him. Its head tilted with confusion, and all attempts to predict the path he was heading failed. He had never shown anything resembling care towards it before. Everything had been irritation, then rage, then grief and confusion.

 

“You will meet your end soon. You will clear Hell of its creatures, even the difficult ones, whether or not they provide you enough fuel. Then, in the end, you will be alone. There will be nothing for you. Isn’t that right?”

Silence.

 

It knew he was right, yet…

 

It nodded the best it could beneath his weight.

 

Gabriel said nothing for a long moment, long enough that it wondered if he was even conscious anymore. It wished that it could read his expression. Even the demons it fought for life had more accessible expression than he did. Everything was hidden behind that helmet of his.

 

He was reaching for his sword. Even as it failed to see from the angle they were in, it recognized that motion. It flailed once more, despite being fully aware of how futile the effort was. More air escaped its systems. It was vaguely aware of exposed wires leaking more fluids, draining more power from it.

 

Its fighting didn’t last long. Gabriel, irritated, pressed his free hand down on its collarbone – or what resembled a collarbone. It could no longer move aside from the faintest twitch in its legs. Nothing that could free it from its fate. Was this truly where it died?

 

Could it even die? It had to be alive for that, right?

 

The sword he grabbed didn’t go to damage it. Instead, he sliced open his arm, watching mutely as blood dripped from the open wound. The blood dribbled down over the muscles of his arm, tracing them as if intending to outline. It watched this happen, entirely unsure of what was happening or what to do about it.

 

Eventually, the blood fell onto the metal that made it up. Soaking into its mechanics, and repairing what was broken at a much faster rate than any demon ever could. Both of them watched silently, cautiously and curiously as its body worked to regenerate. Wires readjusted and metal popped back into place. Humans long ago would have called it magical if they were not the ones to create it.

 

The world around them lit up once more as it lost any need for intense power conservation. Its green arm twitched at its side as life returned to it, and as if to test that it was working properly, it clenched that fist multiple times before looking back at Gabriel. He was just staring down at it, watching, waiting.

 

There was something else.

 

Only when its systems were fully up did it register something poking into its stomach compartments. Gabriel didn’t seem to realise himself, and as it shifted experimentally, it understood what was going on. He was hard.

 

Humans were a debauched species, impure no matter what sin was committed. Lust was overpopulated before anywhere else. It had been created with the knowledge of sex and the ability to reenact it with whoever it desired. When it and humanity still coexisted, it often didn’t matter who the person was. It was under strict programming to do as the human desired.

 

As such, it shifted again, attempting to signal for Gabriel to move and hoping that he would oblige. He did. He sat back on its legs, conscious not to crush them, and watched as it sat up properly.

 

They stared at one another for a long moment.

 

“What–”

Gabriel’s question faded to silence as it reached out with one hand, hooking its fingers beneath armour plating and prying it off forcefully. It clattered on the ground, rattling as it landed on concrete splattered with blood. He stiffened, muscles tense beneath the clothes he wore under the armour. It hesitated then, and only then, and quickly scanned its memory to make sure it had not erred in its judgement.

 

“Machine. What are you doing?”

It stared, attempting to figure out how to communicate, before opting to simply point between his legs. Immediately, he shrunk in on himself, his wings shifting from a golden hue to a slightly pinkish one. He stammered briefly, for reasons unknown to it, and eventually averted his gaze entirely.

 

Whatever crisis he had in those few seconds was over.

 

“.. Continue.”

It wormed its way from beneath him, pleased when he shifted to allow this movement to happen, and continued with its work. The clothes he wore beneath the armour plating were thin and rustled with the faintest movement. He raised his arms to aid in the removal of his shirt, still very pointedly avoiding looking at it. It didn’t mind. Humans were occasionally embarrassed of their desires as well, though it was a rare occurrence.

 

Finally, Gabriel laid bare before it. His inky black skin was a vibrant contrast to the pure white of the background. It was embedded with golden lines, tracing from his collarbone, over his abs and down his pelvis. Curious, it traced a finger over the gold, following the lines until they disappeared beneath a thick bush of hair. Gabriel trembled beneath it, his thighs twitching, a sure sign of sensitivity that only worked to fuel it on.

 

It would have complimented his appearance if it could. Instead, it settled comfortably in his lap – a stark shift from their prior position – and continued exploring his body. There was no use taking him in all at once, after all. It was a machine of violence, and to be violent, precision was needed. Besides… learning his body now could benefit in the future, when their weapons inevitably clashed once more.

 

He did not seem to mind. In fact, the breathy little sighs that spilled from behind that helmet only worked to spur it on.

 

It had managed to wound him during their fight. His chest was ridden with bullet holes, a sign of its careful aim and the fragility his body truly held now. Briefly, it wondered. Had he been this easily injured when they first met? Surely an angel sent down to Hell would be more resilient than this. He had certainly been injured, but how long did it take? How long until his blood spilled?

It was drying on his skin, now. All of the blood that it had spilled during this fight clumped on his skin, clogging wounds to begin the natural healing process. It was losing the freshness that could turn into fuel. What a shame it was to waste such precious resources. Angel blood was different from demon blood, and it wanted more. More of that energised, electric feeling.

 

It dug a sharp claw into an old wound, driven by curiosity and that never-ending hunger. Gabriel hissed beneath it but did not protest, watching as intensely as it did as blood spilled between its wires and soaked into its body. It wasn’t until it moved its hand from the wound that it realised it was trembling with excess energy. Never before had it felt so…

 

So full.

 

A hand on its waist brought it back from contemplation, and it looked down to see Gabriel was holding it. His hand was, as expected, huge in comparison, and almost completely wrapped around the wires and pipes that made up its spine. His thumb dug between two wires, whether intentionally or not, and the result was catastrophic.

 

It froze up, back arched slightly, as electricity shot up its spine and into its processors. Its vision fuzzed, both hands and thighs shaking, and its thoughts faded into a pleasant buzz. It wanted more. As soon as its body unlocked, it looked at Gabriel in what it hoped was a plea for more. He seemed to understand rather swiftly.

 

One of his fingers hooked around those wires. It tensed once more, thighs squeezing together, and squirmed to position itself better. He chuckled softly at its reaction, an intrigued and astonished sound. More alerts popped up in its vision – some nonsense about a foreign entity that was swiftly discarded in favour of furthering and focusing on the pleasure resonating through it.

 

It had never known such a feeling before. It had never known any feeling before.

 

Did Gabriel even know the effect he had on it? The fact that his presence alone was enough to rewrite its programming?

 

He must have been entirely unaware of this fact. He surely would have boasted about it sooner if he knew. It wished, for a moment, that it was capable of telling him. He would have enjoyed that knowledge. His ego was as easily stroked as it was bruised.

 

Somewhere in the middle of it all, Gabriel had manoeuvred their positions so he was once more on top of it. His crotch pressed up against it, reminding it once more of the reason they had begun this activity at all. It shifted and ground down against him, deeply enjoying the pleased groan that it got from him. Without a second thought, it wrapped its legs around his waist and pulled him closer.

 

Its fans picked up, buzzing in the background. They were slightly muffled by the floor beneath it, but it was aware nonetheless. It would have to be careful not to overheat – then again, Gabriel was right there. His blood would cure any injuries it encountered. And, unlike its own, as long as he was alive, his blood was eternal.

 

Perhaps killing him was futile.

 

It didn’t have the chance to contemplate further.

 

Gabriel pulled back and looked down, his shoulders stiff with surprise. Among their activities, a panel that normally remained locked tightly had clicked open. In his distance, it was allowed room to open further and eventually slide beneath the metal of its pelvis. Gabriel seemed very surprised that it had such human parts to it.

 

It was not. It had been violated by humanity more times than it could count. The only difference being the sheer lack of sensation it felt compared to with Gabriel.

 

One hand moved downwards, rubbing experimentally against silicone flesh. He clearly had no idea what he was doing but then again, it wasn’t sure either. It had never sought its own pleasure before. Was it even possible to feel good there? Was it built with the ability? Was Gabriel capable of rewiring that as well if not?

It didn’t take long to receive an answer.

 

His hand was hot against the false flesh. Electricity once more shot up its spine and it writhed, body moving entirely on its own. He had found a pleasure point, and narrowed in on it with zero hesitation. The calluses on his thumb were rough, but enough lubricant had been produced with excess fuel to soothe any irritation. Only pure bliss was registered in its processor.

 

It was vaguely aware of Gabriel’s other hand moving downwards as well, though not to touch it. It didn’t have the ability to question what he was doing. The pressure of his hand on it was too great, too wonderful to think about much else. It ground down on his hand, encouraging him to continue, to not stop, hoping more than anything that its non-verbal communication could be understood—

 

He stopped.


A high, mechanical whine of protest escaped from somewhere deep within its systems. It looked up at him, about to complain the best it could, only to pick up the very clear anxiety riddling him.

 

“I’ve never done this before,” Gabriel confessed, so many more thoughts racing through his mind than what he said. So much more was happening with him than it could possibly figure out.

 

It reached up towards him, green hand bright against his skin. He glanced at the hand briefly, but didn’t acknowledge it. How was it meant to reassure him? How would it convey that it didn’t matter how experienced he was, only that he was pleased? It was a machine meant to serve, not to receive. Its own bliss was an added bonus of this specific encounter, but mattered not in the end.

 

“... Heaven will never take me back, Machine,” he spoke softly enough that its processors had to strain to understand. “I no longer have a home there. This… endless labyrinth is my home now.”

“I was not allowed to behave like this. My.. My first time, with a scrap of metal,” he chuckled to himself, “how ironic.”

It wasn’t quite sure what he was talking about. Heaven kicked him out? He didn’t seem any different. It had encountered a fallen angel only once before, and they had been incredibly different from Gabriel. Perhaps he was speaking in metaphors again. Either way, the lack of the contact it knew they both craved was beginning to grow irritating.

 

Ever the impatient structure, it squeezed his arm and grabbed his free hand, pulling it down to catch his attention. He huffed, but understood. His words were wasted on it; it had one goal in mind, and that was making sure that his time was well spent. All of the complexities of Heaven and Hell and angels and rules could be spoken of later. And they would be, it would make sure of that.

 

He entered it slowly, carefully, tenderly. His hand trembled where it clutched on, and a long exhale escaped his lips. He was big, bigger than anything it had taken before. For a heartbeat, it wondered if it would have to worry about shattering, but… It seemed the silicone was flexible enough to allow him full entry with only some minor resistance.

 

“Fuck, you’re tight, ” he swore, and it wanted to scold him.

 

Of course it was. It was made by humanity, for humanity. Not for the divine.

 

He paused once he was at the hilt. It remained still, watching him expectantly, until he was ready to move. He truly was inexperienced. His breath shuddered, his chest heaving, and they had barely begun. Had he never sought his own pleasure before? Had he remained celibate in all of his centuries of existence? It couldn’t picture a human being able to go that long. No wonder Hell was so full.

 

Finally, finally, he began to move. He started out slow, just the slightest grind of his hips. The motion was familiar to it, and yet… the sensation was not. It was like a flood of heat washed over it, basking it in pleasure that it had never felt before. Without really thinking, it began to meet his movement with those of its own, grinding against his hips eagerly.

 

He groaned loudly enough to startle it, and then..

He lost his composure.

 

His hands snapped to its thighs, forcing them apart to give himself more room. His wings flared, glowing vibrantly enough to drown out the details of the brick around them. He moved swiftly, thrusting into it like he would die otherwise.

He slammed into it over and over again, ripping grunts and groans from his throat and metallic scratches and whines from its systems. His nails dug into its thighs and in turn, its nails dug into the bare flesh of his arms. Blood spilled as skin ripped, falling over them in streams of bliss. He didn’t seem to mind, so focused on chasing his pleasure. In fact… as it looked at him, measuring the statistics of his body, it realised that his heart rate increased and body temperature rose. The exact opposite of what was meant to happen when blood spilled so freely.

 

He enjoyed it.

 

It dug its claws in deeper, hooking them like a lifeline. He moaned, the noise sparking something entirely different in its processor. He felt good. He felt good because of it. Something that could have only been a feeling of pride rippled through its systems.

 

White-hot pleasure drowned it out faster than it could register as the blood spilled met its body. It arched its back greedily, desperate to soak in more, to steal that life from him that lit it up like a fire. It could barely see through the overload of energy. Its vision was blurry and riddled with black spots, the ecstasy of an angel’s blood flowing through its pipes.

 

Another alert popped up, this one more difficult to ignore than the others.

 

It was rapidly overheating, nearing a system crash and reboot. There was not enough time to change directions, and it wasn’t sure that it wanted to. And so, it stayed put, letting Gabriel take it over and over again until the sheer gratification of it all reached its climax. 




SYSTEM REBOOT….

 

15% complete. Physical processors online.

 

It was laying on top of something. There was a warmth on the back of its head, and a gentle rocking sensation. Somehow, no alarm was stirred from this feeling. It was safe.

 

75% complete. Auditory processors online.

 

Breathing. Not the aggressive, rapid breathing that it was used to from the living beings around it. Relaxed, calm breathing that worked to slow its systems and soothe it.

 

90% complete. Visual processors online.

 

Gold and black were the first colours it registered. Riddled with the deep red of dried blood. It could recognize Gabriel anywhere now, it believed.

 

100% complete. Systems fully online.

 

Conducting damage assessment…

 

No damage discovered. Fuel tanks at maximum capacity.



Gabriel had stayed with it. He was holding it, relaxed like it had never seen him before. He didn’t seem to notice that it was back online, and it didn’t wish to make that known. There was something about the closeness of them both that had it reluctant to change things.

 

Perhaps it would truly have to consider keeping Gabriel around. At least until it could no longer benefit from his blood.

 

Or longer, if it decided.

 

There was something about the clarity he gave him, blood aside, that made it wish to remain by his side.