Raziel rolled his eyes. “And that’s my cue to leave. I’m too old for a damn lecture. Take me to Auckland, Uri.”
Uriel, lighting a cigar with his power, gave Raziel a lazy salute. “Good thing that pizza parlor you like there knows what you like.”
“It is. Then we can return to our little holiday house on the Gold Coast in Queensland.” Raziel slipped his arm around Uriel’s waist.
Uriel’s expression became one of lascivious amusement. “Now you’re talking.” He flipped a halfhearted wave at the rest of the Archangels, and with an arm around Raziel’s shoulder, he disappeared.
“Breathe, Mishka,” Gabriel said in an undertone. “You’ll see spots in front of your eyes.”
Michael took a deep breath. “I do not find that amusing, Gabriel. Raziel should show more decorum.”
“He only did it to piss you off,” Gabriel pointed out. “He knows how you react. Don’t stress about it, yeah? He’s gone, everyone’s fine. You and me, we should go too.”
Michael huffed softly and Gabriel switched to thoughts, hiding them from the rest of the Brotherhood so only Michael could hear him.
“We’ll go to our island, have supper, and then retire to bed, yeah? ’Cause I want you, Michael. I want you a lot, and it’s been a while since I had you.”
Michael coughed discreetly, lowering his gaze. “As you say, Gabriel. I confess that I want you too.”
“Then let’s say our goodbyes and go.” Gabriel got to his feet and held out a hand to Michael. Michael took it and stood.
“Okay, we’re going too.” Gabriel grinned. “Don’t call us unless there’s a really big emergency, yeah? We got things to do.”
“Ah, secret Archangel lover business.” Tzadkiel nodded. “Go, go. Have a good night.”
“Oh, we will.” Before Michael could say anything, Gabriel moved them straight from Tzadkiel’s comfortable apartment to the kitchen of the house he and Michael shared on their island.
“I see you are indeed hungry,” Michael said with a faint smile.
“A little,” Gabriel admitted. “But mostly? I just want to be with you. No one else, no distractions, just you and me.”
Michael’s smile grew. “I love you, Gabriel.”
“I love you too.” Gabriel rested his forehead against Michael’s and held him a little tighter. “And I missed you.”
“I missed you also.” Michael sighed quietly. “What did you wish to eat?”
“You.” Gabriel ducked his head to nuzzle Michael’s neck.
“I would make a poor meal, I fear,” Michael said, tilting his head a little.
“Mm, but your dick fits so well into my mouth.”
“Gabriel, please!” Michael coughed uncomfortably. “It is not appropriate to discuss such matters.”
“You do know, right, that no one else is around”—Gabriel slid his hands down to Michael’s wing joints—“and we’ve had loads of sex, yeah? So how is it not appropriate?”
“It merely is not.” Michael leaned into Gabriel’s touch.
“I don’t understand,” Gabriel admitted and lightly nipped Michael’s earlobe, “but that’s okay.”
“Okay?” Michael’s voice was a little breathy now, and Gabriel snaked his tongue around the shell of his ear. The soft moan and the shiver he felt course through Michael’s body made Gabriel smirk.
“Shall we go to bed?” he purred.
“Y-yes,” Michael whimpered. “Please, Gabriel.”
Gabriel grinned. He’d successfully managed to distract Michael from scolding him. He filed the tactic away for future reference and ran his hands down Michael’s back, then up again, ghosting his fingers over the edge of the wing joints. “Mm, Michael,” Gabriel murmured, kissing his way down Michael’s neck.
“Bed,” Michael gasped, tugging on Gabriel’s own wings. “Now. Please.”
Gabriel moved them with his power, and they emerged on the bed in a tangle of limbs.
“Better?” he asked.
“Yes.” Michael slid a hand up to Gabriel’s hair and tugged him down for a hard, hungry kiss.
Gabriel moaned, at once completely focused on Michael. Michael’s hands, Michael’s hard, muscled body against his own, Michael’s mouth. Gabriel rocked slowly into his lover’s body, and Michael moaned loudly into the kiss, the sound skipping Gabriel’s ears and going straight to his cock. How long had it been since they’d lain together like this, Gabriel wondered. Too long by far. He shoved Michael’s shirt up with hands made clumsy by his need and groaned as his palm touched warm skin.
“Naked,” Gabriel panted between kisses. “We need to be.”
“Yes.” Michael wasn’t doing anything other than kissing Gabriel harder, though; and Gabriel, not wanting to let go of Michael, gave up on removing his clothing the normal way and used his power to strip them both naked.
“Gabriel, Gabriel,” Michael panted, his voice rough with desire and love, Gabriel’s name a litany of need. There were few things in the world that could turn Gabriel on faster, and hearing his name said like that by his beloved Michael made his own desire increase tenfold.
“I want to fuck you,” Gabriel growled, nipping the smooth column of Michael’s neck.
“Then do it,” Michael said. “I want you, Gabriel.”
Gabriel stroked himself once, a whisper of power leaving his cock lubed in the wake of his touch. With a low growl of desire, Gabriel shifted into better position and, lifting Michael’s legs to his shoulders, pressed into Michael’s body in one long, hard thrust.
They both cried out at the penetration, Michael’s body taking Gabriel’s cock easily, and Gabriel rocked into tight heat. They reached for each other, clutched at one another as they crashed together in an artless, hungry kiss. Gabriel wormed a hand between them to wrap around Michael’s cock and stroke, his thumb rubbing the slit as he fucked Michael hard and fast, Michael rocking into each thrust and moaning on each exhale of breath.
Gabriel knew it wouldn’t take long for them to come; they were both so hot for each other that there would be no drawing it out. Later, there would be time for foreplay and slow, hard sex, but now both he and Michael wanted to connect, to feel each other at the most primitive and sensual level.
“Gabriel,” Michael moaned, “I love you.”
Gabriel kissed Michael’s neck. “I love you too.”
Michael moaned again, ragged and raw, arching into Gabriel’s body and thrusting into his hand, and with a low cry, he came.
Michael’s orgasm set off Gabriel’s own. Feeling Michael lose himself in his pleasure because of Gabriel, to Gabriel, was another of Gabriel’s aphrodisiacs. Several more thrusts and Gabriel came, muscles tensing as he felt the pleasure of orgasm wash over him in waves.
Panting, Gabriel sprawled on the bed, half on Michael and half on the mattress, a hand on Michael’s chest. “Now that’s what I’m talking about.”
Michael laughed, a little breathless chuckle. “Is it?”
“Yeah. That were awesome.”
“It is always good with you,” Michael said, his voice shy. “I do not think you have ever made me feel anything other than desired, loved, or wanted.”
“Well good, ’cause you are desired, loved, and wanted.” Gabriel rolled onto his side and gazed at Michael with a fond smile. “Happy?”
“Yes.” Michael turned to face him. “Are you?”
“Aye.” Gabriel ran a hand down Michael’s side. “All’s well that ends well, and you and I are together.”
“Things did work out for the best.” Michael nodded, resting a hand on Gabriel’s chest, above his heart.
“So, shall we talk about the bond?” Gabriel asked.
Michael looked at him. “If you would like.”
“Aye, I’d like.” Gabriel paused to get his thoughts in order. “So, you still want to do it, then?”
Michael nodded. “I have given it a great deal of thought, particularly during the war. I missed you a very great deal during those years, and even th
ough I knew—logically—that you would be safe and unharmed, I feared for you.” He lowered his eyelashes, unable to meet Gabriel’s gaze, and Gabriel moved closer, pulling Michael into a hug.
“I confess that the situation we were just in gave me pause,” Michael went on, “as I saw how Shateiel fared with the lack of his bondmate and the inability to feel Agrat at all. I thought, perhaps, that this was a good reason not to bond, but I perceived that Israfel and Raphael were in just as much pain because of their separation, although not so closely tied to their Graces.”
“I thought that might have made you change your mind,” Gabriel said.
Michael looked up. “Did you? Did you think I would deny you?”
“I thought you might want to postpone for a while, aye.”
Michael considered that. “Perhaps, for a while, I did consider that. But as I said, seeing Israfel and Raphael… it would not matter if were bonded or not. Such a separation, an enforced separation beyond the control of any of our kind, would be painful to endure. I am not sure I could endure it, in truth. I need you, Gabriel, a very great deal. More than I can put into words.”
“You’ll always have me, Mishka,” Gabriel said gently.
“Perhaps.” Michael smiled, the expression wan. “However, I have you now and I will not lose you if I can help it. I have wanted you as my lover for a very long time, Gabriel.”
Gabriel kissed the tip of Michael’s nose, and Michael wrinkled it in reply. Gabriel laughed at that and ruffled Michael’s hair.
“You are so adorable.”
“I am not.” Michael smiled.
“I say you are, so there.” Gabriel resumed his slow caress of Michael’s side. “I am very in love with you, solnyshko.”
“You are very kind, da bao.” Michael hesitated a moment, then plunged on like a man about to face a firing squad. “I… I wrote poetry and letters while you were away. During the war.”
Gabriel blinked, stunned. “You did?”
“I did. I fear the poetry is poor and the letters poorer still, but the emotions are genuine and true.”
“I want to see.”
Michael laughed. “I suppose I should show you, then.”
“Aye, you should.” Gabriel sat up.
Michael smiled and rolled over, opened the bedside drawer, and pulled out a small notebook, tied closed with brown string. He handed the book to Gabriel and sat up.
“I will go prepare your food,” Michael said.
Gabriel smiled. “Are you all embarrassed now?”
“A little.” Michael looked at the floor.
“I repeat. You? Are adorable.”
Michael shot Gabriel a look. “I am not. What did you wish to eat?”
“I don’t mind. Surprise me.”
“I fear I am not very gifted at surprises.”
Gabriel hummed. “Then… dumplings and tom yum soup.”
“As you say.” Michael left the bedroom, and Gabriel turned to the notebook.
After carefully untying the knot that held the string, Gabriel set the string aside and opened the book. Inside were leaves of paper, some with hastily scribbled Chinese characters, others in a neater hand. A few were written in English, but for the most part, Michael’s writings were in Chinese. Gabriel leaned back against the headboard of the bed and started to read.
He was astonished at the talent Michael had, the simplicity of his verse and the heartfelt emotions poured into it. The letters were more wordy, and sometimes rambling, and Gabriel surmised that these had been written late at night, when Michael was tired and unable to rest because he was worrying too much. The poems were about everything from memories of happier, less war-troubled times to musings on how much Michael loved him.
Gabriel read each character and line with a growing awe for Michael’s talents and a growing sense of humility for how much Michael loved him. He began to realize that Michael’s love sometimes troubled his lover, that Michael loved Gabriel so much that sometimes he wondered if his love was greater than that love he had for God. There was a letter written in a shaky hand that spoke of Michael having received a visit from God during the night, comforting him, assuring him that no, Michael’s love of Gabriel did not take away from his love of God.
Tears in his eyes, Gabriel slowly closed the book and carefully tied up the string around it so none of the pages would slip free. He ran his fingers reverently over the leather of the cover and scrubbed his eyes quickly with his other hand.
A light cough from the doorway roused him from his contemplation of the book. Michael stood there, looking a little sheepish.
“Are you all right?” Michael asked.
“Aye.” Gabriel smiled. “I’m very all right. Yourself?”
“I am good.” Michael nodded. “Your food is ready.”
“Okay.” Gabriel put the book down on his bedside table and stood up, not bothering with clothes. Michael frowned and Gabriel grinned and sauntered from the bedroom into the kitchen and dining area and sitting down at the dining table, where his soup and dumplings were waiting.
“Yum,” Gabriel said, tucking into the food with gusto. “You’re an amazing cook, Mishka.”
“If you say so. It is merely something achieved with practice, however.” Michael sat down beside him.
“So, that book,” Gabriel said between mouthfuls, “that book is… amazing.”
Michael quirked an eyebrow.
“You’re so talented, beloved mine,” Gabriel said, turning his head to look at Michael. He held his lover’s gaze. “You are. Don’t be demure. You’re humble and you don’t push yourself forward. You’re the best of us, really. And I am so glad you love me.”
“How could I not love you, Gabriel?” Michael ducked his head, looking down at his hands.
“What do you mean?” Gabriel was confused.
“You are you,” Michael said. “You are… strong, powerful, brave. Compassionate, kind, tender. You care for the world, for the humans, for the monsters, for every leaf and branch on this planet. You are a skilled warrior and a fine General. And yet, there is so much to you, Gabriel. You are handsome, and your eyes are captivating.” Michael shrugged. “How could I ever presume to have anything to offer when you are so wonderful?”
Gabriel gaped, soup spoon halfway to his mouth. He closed his mouth after a moment and cleared his throat.
“You see me with rose-colored glasses, Mishka.”
Michael looked up from his hands. “No, I do not.”
Gabriel shook his head. “Then you have a really strong bias.”
Michael shook his head in turn. “No. I strive to be as unbiased as possible.”
Gabriel sat back in his chair, reaching out to take Michael’s hand in his. “I love you very much, okay? Very much. I’m not a poet and I just… I think it, I say it.”
Michael smiled at that. “I am aware of that last.”
“Brat.” Gabriel grinned. He sobered a moment later. “You are the sexiest, most gorgeous, most eminently fuckable individual I know. Plus? Your soul is kind, generous, loyal, and you are brave, amazingly talented—as a poet and in dancing and as a warrior.” Gabriel paused to collect his thoughts. “Also, you have a fucking fantastic ass. A guy’d have to go a long way to find an ass as good as yours.”
Michael blushed crimson immediately. “Gabriel, please refrain from commenting on my form.”
“No, no, I won’t. And you know why? ’Cause I’m a tactile, physical being and the form is just as important to me as the soul. Anyway, you can’t tell me you don’t think my physical form’s sexy.”
Michael was still blushing. “You are very handsome,” he said, “but I will not use such base terms.”
Gabriel laughed and shifted closer, pulling Michael into his arms in an awkward hug. “Oh, I love you, solnyshko.”
“I love you too. Are you all right?”
“Never better.” Gabriel kissed Michael’s forehead and sat back, resuming his meal.
“As you say,” Michael sa
id, although his expression was one of mild confusion.
“It’s all good, Mishka,” Gabriel said around a mouthful of dumpling.
“I see.” Michael shook his head. “Eat your food, Gabriel.”
Gabriel gave him a thumbs-up and continued to do just that.
URIEL lounged on the bed in the beachfront house that he and Raziel had bought after the war. The house was four rooms—a living and dining room with a kitchen area, a bathroom and separate toilet, and, of course, the large bedroom. There were french doors that opened up to allow an unimpeded walk down to the edge of the sea, and those doors were now open, letting in a warm breeze that smelled of salt brine and sun-kissed sand.
Raziel was fussing over something—Uriel didn’t really know what, and to be truthful, he didn’t really care. He was more interested in Raziel being okay, being rested and not overworked. Uriel had worried about Raziel while his lover had been doing the work of two Archangels—a worry that he had hidden from everyone.
Uriel sighed and lit a cigar, tapping one foot impatiently on the bed. Raziel finally emerged from the living room and sat down on the edge of the bed.
“Took you long enough,” Uriel said, exhaling a cloud of cigar smoke.
Raziel shrugged. “I wanted to be sure those collars were locked away securely.”
“And are they?”
“Of course.” Raziel shifted, crawling onto the bed and sitting with his legs folded. He rested a hand on Uriel’s stomach. “You’re getting a podge belly.”
“Shut up, I am not.” Uriel looked down at his stomach, then at Raziel, who was grinning. “You’re such a brat.”
“And you love it.”
Uriel flicked away the cigar, ignoring it as it vanished into the ether. He sat up, tugged Raziel into his arms, and held him tight.
“Hey,” Raziel said, running a hand through Uriel’s dark-blond hair, “what’s wrong?”
“You really had me worried,” Uriel admitted. “I was scared for you, babe, and I don’t like the feeling.”
“Oh, Uri.” Raziel kissed Uriel’s neck. “I was okay.”
“You do too much.”
“I do what I can because I must. As do we all.” Raziel pulled back a little and gazed at Uriel. His eyes were a deep blue, shining with confidence in his abilities and his love for Uriel. Uriel reached up and pushed back a lock of Raziel’s dark shoulder-length hair.
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