Dumat: The Dragon of Silence (nearestvessel) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2014-02-13 17:46:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, michael, samandriel |
Who: Samandriel & Michael
What: Samandriel tells Michael to stay.
When: 2/4 - part two of this
Where: Samandriel’s
Rating: High
Status: Complete
Michael was somewhat glad that Samandriel couldn’t see his face from that position. He was sure his expression was a hungry one, and that would have let him know the sight of him and his moans did indeed have an effect on him. Difficult to maintain the illusion of power if they both knew that all Michael wanted was to be buried in Samandriel the way his thumb was. He swallowed hard, focusing his attention on what he was doing and not the noises he was making.
He sped up again, falling out of rhythm on purpose, alternating between hard and light touches. He was rewarding him for his moans now though Michael hadn’t realized it right away, the more he moaned and seemed to want to move the more contact he gave him. Eventually Michael had to stop and pull his thumb out mainly fearing that he would make him come and he wasn’t ready for this to end yet. He decided on another test, this time keeping his hands off him and just let him go without touch or command for several moments.
When the touch was removed, Samandriel half expected some kind of command to follow. That it didn’t come only resulted in his breathy moans ebbing into needy whimpers. He bit down lightly on his lower lip, forcing himself to keep mostly still no matter how hard it was. Waiting was getting easier. Stillness was not. It seemed like Michael wasn’t ever going to put his hands on him again, the moments ticking by with growing slowness. Desperate for any kind of contact or reaction, Samandriel moved. The hand that had been jammed between his legs forced to add pressure and to feel the air moving so close and yet too far away as Michael fucked him with his thumb shifted no more than an inch or so from his skin. The shoulder of his other arm dropped and his fingers relaxed their grip on the sheets. He was absolutely certain that the last straw was going to be the way he shifted his legs wider in obvious invitation.
“Are you incapable or just unwilling to follow orders?” There was a deeper rumble to his voice now, exposing Michael’s arousal at the sights and situation before him. He was past caring though, more than ready to take the angel’s beautiful body as it had been begging him since the beginning. With two fingers he flicked Samandriel’s inner right thigh rather hard, “Don’t speak or I will put those lips to better use.”
Michael backed off a moment, moving off the bed to undress himself. He took his time though, even if he was aching for it himself there was something satisfying about seeing Samandriel desperate for contact and wanting. When he was finally naked himself he moved to check the bedside tables, again, taking his time. But he was pleased to find that even the guestroom was stocked and when he returned to the bed he was already coating himself with the lube. “Hands and knees.” Michael growled. “Now.”
Michael got the answer to his question the minute he gave the angel an order he was interested in. The boy moved quickly, snapping to attention though it was more forearms and knees than hands. He knew he could present a more pleasing view this way, could submit himself even more obviously to Michael’s will. But of course, the order to move hadn’t been followed by one to stay there, so he took that as permission to look over his shoulder at the archangel. He really, really wished he hadn’t. He couldn’t help but moan, the head of his cock leaking some already as he took in the gorgeous man who remained still out of reach. Possibly being forbidden from speaking was the cruelest punishment of all.
Samandriel was perfect as that was indeed more of what Michael actually had in mind, and probably it was better for Michael’s control. He wouldn’t have been able to resist clinging close to him and biting at his shoulder when he lost himself, but like this Michael could keep what control he seemed to have over himself. “Good, Samandriel.”
He didn’t give him much in the way of warning. As soon as Michael felt he was ready he reached out to put a hand on the back of the angel’s neck, pressing him and his forearms harder to the bed to keep him there and remind him that this was about what Michael wanted from his body. His other hand slipped under one of Samandriel’s hips to encourage him to not move as Michael thrust roughly into him and let out a loud growl and a very clear, “Mine.” he fell into a hard, quick rhythm, knowing the angel probably wouldn’t last long. Michael didn’t care, that was part of the point. “Every bit of you, mine. Mine to use as I see fit.”
Samandriel cried out loudly, bowing more as Michael kept him there. This… This was what he wanted. This was what he’d been aching for that he hadn’t been getting. Michael’s words ran through him, the claim sending heat down his spine. He couldn’t keep his wings hidden any longer. They snapped open, spreading out in an arc that matched the rest of the submissive posture of his body. “Yes, sir,” he said loudly, voice tight while he tried so very hard to hold himself back from the edge. He hadn’t… he hadn’t been given permission. He needed to be Good. He needed Michael to see that he was Good, that he was Worth loving and trusting.
Michael’s breath was harsh as his fingers curled and dug into the back of Samandriel’s neck. “Didn’t give you permission to speak.” In reality Michael was past caring, especially when those marvelous wings made their appearance, but he had to remember. He had to punish. The only thing he could really think to do was deny him as long as he was able. “Not yet,” he warned, knowing he wasn’t all that far from it himself, but he would hang on. “Don’t you dare.” the last word he punctuated with a particularly long, hard thrust. He was using that hand at his neck to force Samandriel to counter his thrusts, not able to hold back his own groans and moans.
The angel clenched his teeth, putting all his effort into thinking of anything unarousing enough to counter what was being done to his body. He didn’t think he could manage no matter how much calculus he tried doing or how many out of tune horn and woodwind sections he imagined. He was close. It wouldn’t take much. He wanted to beg, but it’d been made perfectly clear to him that speaking was only going to make things worse.
Michael wasn’t cruel and if he were honest he loved the sound of Samandriel begging, the colors it caused to explode in Michael’s eyes were amazing. He wanted to see it before Samandriel lost control. “Beg.” Michael breathed, it hadn’t come out like an order. He was just as desperate and wanting as Samandriel but for the most part he had been hiding it. To maintain what control he had he spoke again, his voice stronger. “Beg. Beg for me. Do it well and I’ll let you come.”
Samandriel whined, a loud hedonistic sound as he arched his back and tried to please get Michael to fuck him just a little bit harder, to maybe feel the smack of an open palm on his thigh. “Please,” he gasped. “Please, sir. Please I wanna come so hard for you. Wanna show you how good you make me feel. Michael...Michael fuck, please.” His fingers clenched around nothing, blunt edges of his nails digging into his palm. Even without touching himself, he knew he wasn’t far off. “Please, Michael. Please, I need to.”
“Yes.” Michael managed to get out between between heavy breaths and deep moans. “Good. Good. Samandriel.” His hand slipped from his neck, nails scraping hard down the center of his back, digging in as hard as his short fingernails were able when he passed through the space between his wings. “Come for me.” Michael commanded, both hands holding tight to his waist now. He wasn’t far off himself either and now he could see no reason to hold back, his hips slamming so hard into Samandriel that somewhere in the back of his mind he worried that he might break the angel in half. “Samandriel. So good.”
That was all Samandriel needed, back arching with the pull of Michael’s nails as he came so hard he was pretty sure that he saw stars once everything stopped going white behind his eyes. He cried out loudly, glad somewhere deep in the back of his mind that they were here and not in Michael’s building where someone else might overhear his near scream of pleasure as his orgasm was practically ripped from him. Even his feathers trembled with the force of it radiating through his body so roughly he was certain that Michael’s grip on his hips was the only thing actually holding him up.
Michael hadn’t been far behind the angel, though feeling him finally letting go around him was far more intense than he could have imagined. And that cry had set off explosions of color, not just blue, every stunning shade and it pulled at Michael, begging him to come just as Samandriel had begged. He needed that release just as badly and for more than just his body or his current commanding mindset but for everything. He continued on less than a handful of thrusts until he let himself go, grasping Samandriel tight as he let out something close to a roar. Somehow he didn’t collapse after, his breath rough and his heart pounding he continued to hold to Samandriel, though one hand did slip from him and fall to the bed in an effort to keep his knees from giving out and crushing the angel beneath him. Though part of him may have wanted that. “Samandriel.”
Without anything left to hold him up, Samandriel pitched and fell forward, taking Michael with him in a tangle of limbs they’d both definitely earned. He managed enough sense to be able to catch his breath and put his wings away. “Michael,” he murmured back, content all the way down to his marrow. One hand groped next to him, and even he wasn’t sure if he just wanted Michael’s fingers laced with his again or if he wanted the eventual archangel next to him. Both was definitely an option, but thinking was really, really hard when he felt this good.
Pulling himself from Samandriel took a lot of effort, he might have felt utterly warm and content but his limbs felt heavy and hard to move. He did manage it though, coming to rest on the bed beside the angel and taking that hand when it reached for him. His strength felt depleted but he somehow pulled Samandriel to his side and wrapped his arms around him, pressing a light kiss to his temple. Serious thought, as well as a lot of other things were out of the question for the moment but Michael did have the brainpower to whisper to him, “I love you.”
The angel managed to keep hold of that hand as he moved, nestled against Michael and feeling safe in a way that only one other could manage. “Never stop,” he whispered against that sculpted chest. He looked up at Michael, or really more accurately Michael’s jaw. “I love you. Always.” The only being alive who could see always the same way he did was the one he was going to marry, but he thought Michael might come close to at least understanding the idea of what always meant from a being who had seen the moment everything began and planned to be around for the breath when it all ended as well.
“I don’t want to stop. Don’t let me.” If only he could hang on to and live in this moment forever. That it would just be the two of them feeling warm and sated with no world beyond the door, that Michael didn’t have an archangel lurking inside him or waiting just around the corner to pounce on him and likely change him. Even if he was broken and even if Samandriel was in a relationship Michael would have sworn that none of it mattered as long as they could stay in that moment. It wasn’t to be though, he knew that, so instead he simply held to his angel and tried to burn every second into his memory.
There was that thing Michael did when he held him impossibly tight and it felt like he was trying to somehow fuse them both together so they wouldn’t ever have to be apart. He pushed himself up enough to look Michael in the eye without breaking too much contact. “Stay,” he said and found himself absolutely certain of it. “I mean I know you don’t know him yet, haven’t even met him at all, but… but I want you to stay.” He couldn’t imagine Lucifer would ever say no and if the man had found something in Dean worth loving and keeping around when Dean couldn’t see it in himself on even his best days, then he could see as much in their eventual brother. “Please.”
“You don’t mean just for just tonight, do you?” He knew that since they had teleported or flown or whatever angels did that he was essentially at Samandriel’s mercy for whenever he wanted to send him back. Not that he thought the angel would do anything without asking first or try to keep him there, even if he was involved with Lucifer he doubted that it was in his nature to keep or hang on to someone when they didn’t want it. Dean had called angels dicks but Michael couldn’t see that ever being applied to Samandriel. No, with his big eyes and sweet face, the angel in his arms was far too clever to ever let someone think he could ever fall into any category that wasn’t entirely flattering. “Samandriel.”
He pressed a kiss to the top of his forehead. “You can’t tell me Lucifer would be alright with you keeping me in his home. Aside from the weirdness that might arise from us trying to share you, he’s still Lucifer and I’m going to be Michael. Even if he isn’t the Lucifer I will know, there is still the possibility that it won’t matter and that I might feel compelled to…” He let that die off, not wanting to say it. “And then, when I change, when I’m Michael, what if I make you hate me? If I do somehow forget or things change? I can’t say I see anything happening without someone getting hurt.”
Samandriel shifted to straddle Michael, like somehow he might be able to make his point clearer from above him and not pressed into his side. “It’s our home,” he said, getting that out of the way first and foremost. “I get a say too, and it’s not like we don’t have the room.” There was no way Lucifer was going to refuse him. If Michael made trouble, then they’d deal with things and Lucifer was more than strong enough to cast Michael out without a thought if that became necessary. “Love...love is getting hurt. It’s part of the deal. It’s making yourself vulnerable enough to trust that someone won’t, but forgiving them when they do. Because even angels make mistakes. Even angels lash out and hurt each other. Humanity had to be based on something, and that something was us.”
He caressed Michael’s face lightly, clearly caring deeply about the man beneath him. “I never hated him. Not once. I was afraid and scared, yes, but I didn’t hate him. He was my brother and I loved him. I know… I know you’re hurting more than you let on, but if I can see the good in you and bring it out like this, what makes you think I can’t do that with him too? I’ve already promised to find you in him, to make the parts of you that love me so very much right now remember if you don’t on your own already. So let me try. Let me…” He shook his head. “Give us a chance. Relationships are work, but I believe in you and me as deeply as I believe in me and Lucifer. The only thing that scares me about Michael taking a shot at him is that the Lucifer I’m with is one who is far, far more powerful than you’ll become. A chance, Michael. Please. Don’t give up on us so easily before we’ve even started to get near the bumps in the road to come.” It was what might’ve made Samandriel different from anyone else Michael chose to take to bed. He knew what was coming. He knew what was already there. He was willing to accept it all and find the heart buried in all that pain. “Please.” It was less sadness and more hope, but still soft and still so very much the essence of Samandriel that drew seemingly so many people to him.
Bright baby blue. That was what was coming out of Samandriel now. Bright baby blue and occasionally little spots of white that at first stuck out to him then slowly blended into the angel’s colors. It looked mostly like a hand to him, a hand reaching out and into Michael’s chest which ached more and more Samandriel spoke. It made so much sense to his tired and broken mind, everything he was saying, everything behind what he was saying. There were promises there, behind his words, or so Michael believed there were, promises of relief from his afflictions and happiness and more time together. It was perfect and wonderful even though it would probably be more work than Samandriel was letting on and there would probably also be pain. It was a very alluring picture, especially when he had those beautiful blue eyes on him. Giving in would have been so easy.
And yet Michael balked at the idea.
He had doubts and concerns, especially about himself and all the many reasons he usually kept himself from getting close to anyone else. As bad as he had seen Michael before, Michael knew Samandriel hadn’t seen the worst of him, the parts of him that were difficult to love and the times he simply completely shut down. And while he was aware of how bad he could be and that he was trying to protect the angel, he also knew he was full of shit. That Samandriel could fix him, at least temporarily and was clearly more than capable of dealing with him. That when one really got down to it Michael was actually afraid, almost terrified even though he refused to admit it. It was easier for him to convince himself that he was too broken to be fixed or useful than to admit that he was too frightened of what could happen if he really let someone in.
“I want to meet him first, before I decide anything.” A stall, maybe, but it was generally a good idea to meet someone you might be moving in with before you moved in, especially if you had been sleeping with their fiance. “I want to hear it from him that he’s alright with you keeping me.”
It was a fair point and even Samandriel couldn’t argue it, not without being a giant dick about the whole thing. “Alright,” he said softly, leaning down to kiss Michael slowly. “Stay the night then, and I’ll make you both breakfast in the morning.” It was as close to compromise as he could get. After what they’d both been through together, he wasn’t alright with the idea of just letting Michael go back home to...to maybe make assumptions about Samandriel’s reactions to what had happened. He was going to have to meet Lucifer eventually anyway. Better sooner rather than later and while his head was still whole enough to manage perhaps not screaming at him or shutting down immediately.
Michael knew he hadn’t exactly made Samandriel happy, that clearly the correct thing in his eyes was to embrace him and what he was offering with all the love that Michael claimed to have for the little angel. But he was stubborn, prone to denial and compartmentalizing when he likely should have just accepted that he was wrong or that he wasn’t going to get his way. He wasn’t sure what talking to Lucifer would actually accomplish, perhaps aside from achieving possibly the most awkward breakfast of his life and messing with his faith in a righteous and just God. He told himself that he was going to say no in the end, that he was going to maintain his usual solitude and isolation, even if most of him did want to be with Samandriel.
“I’m a weak and pathetic man, it simply goes with being a member of the species. You may have to be patient with me a lot more than you’d ever imagine you’d have to.” be ran a hand over Samandriel’s cheek. “I am sorry.”
Samandriel closed his eyes, forced himself to lean into that touch rather than away. “You’re not even willing to try?” he asked, feeling the tears welling up already. “To...to sit down and have breakfast or coffee or something with someone important to me?” He swallowed a lump in his throat, knowing that Michael would hear and see the tears even if he refused to let them fall. “I don’t… Why would you just give up like that? Like somehow meeting him is going to be the end of whatever we are?” He opened his eyes and looked at Michael. He really didn’t like feeling as though he was being made to fight alone when this should have been a team effort.
And there it was, the thing Michael had wanted to avoid from the start. Not only was that feeling of guilt washing over him now with that color of blue that was almost enough to make him want to well up if he had been the type to do such a thing, but there was also that ache in his chest that turned to almost real pain. Upsetting Samandriel, even if he had wanted to avoid it, was like being shot with his own gun. It was wrong and it hurt and made a show of his stupidity.
“No.” he wrapped his arms around Samandriel’s shoulders, bringing his face in closer so he wouldn’t have to look right at the expression there. “I’m willing to meet with him, I want to meet him because he’s important to you. And I am not giving up, not on you or us. And it’s not going to be the end. I just… I don’t know if being here, with the both of you, is what is best for any of us. I don’t want to hurt you but being together like that might increase the chances that I will, especially when Michael comes. I can’t be sure or certain what he and I will be like.”
“Oh for-” Samandriel pulled back to look sternly at Michael. This was exactly the kind of perpetual protection that got under his skin, that he was sick and tired of. “What are you so afraid of? Losing me? Letting me in? Of someone seeing how much you hurt? Michael...I’ve been inside you and even more than that, I know what’s coming for you. I can help. I don’t break that easily. I don’t-” He growled a little in frustration, though it was more a whimper than anything else as he wiped at his eyes.
“Here.” Two fingers to Michael’s forehead was all it took to finish things out on the memory he’d only given his lover part of before, the implication of weeks and weeks of pure torture, the moment he finally got free enough to call for help and the Winchesters showing up. What Castiel ultimately ended up doing to him. “I can still love Castiel after that. I can still call him brother and keep him close. He killed me. And when he gets to remembering that, he’s not going to care that it wasn’t his fault, that someone else was controlling him. All he’s going to care about is that his blade ended my life. And all I’m going to do is forgive him. Do you get that, Michael? There is nothing in you that scares me. There’s nothing in you that’s going to chase me away. I was part of the garrison that went down to hell to pull Dean out of it. What makes you think I can’t pull you out too? There isn’t anything to be afraid of here. I’ve got you. I promised. So stop making excuses. If this is something you want, then take it. It’s being offered to you. Don’t sit around worrying about what might come. This is what is.”
Michael couldn’t breathe for a moment and he was sure his heart had stopped too. What Samandriel had shown him before was rough enough, it had set off his anger and he had been ready to destroy his own property because someone had harmed and forgotten about his angel. But now, seeing him rescued only to watch him die by the hand of someone he loved. It was just too much to take in. He had seen death, at times on an hourly basis, men and women he was supposed to look out for and make sure they got back home, men he cared about. But that was a war, they all knew the next bullet or bomb could have their names on it, they hadn’t been captured and tortured only to die by a friendly hand. Michael simply couldn’t react.
Samandriel was saying something, Michael could hear him but he was distracted, putting a hand to the angel’s chest where his wound had been or would have been or however it worked. His voice was was a different shade of blue now, and much more white was bleeding in than before, that more than trying to put together what he was saying told Michael what he meant. In the end, the only thing he was fighting against was himself, Samandriel and Dean were probably right. He did need to admit to needing help. When he spoke again his voice was barely above a whisper, his eyes still fixed on where his angel had been stabbed, “Alright.”
“Alright what?” Samandriel asked, drawing that hand back up to his face to pull Michael’s attention away from a wound that simply didn’t exist. It wasn’t a card he’d wanted to play, but it was the least painful one he had available to him to get his point across. He could look at clean, undamaged skin all he wanted, but seeing the life in Samandriel’s eyes would help more than anything else. He wasn’t just a pretty face who chose to hope and to love, who fell back on those instincts because it got him further in life than anger ever could. He had been a warrior too. Michael himself had made him that way. He could fight. They just had to let him.
“I’ll stay.” it came out even though Michael hadn’t willed it to, but he hadn’t actually intended to say ‘alright’ either. He did want it of course, he had wanted to hang on to Samandriel even before he had seen him die, but the shock had helped. It was the punch to the gut he had needed to get him thinking right. What a punch though. He moved a shaky hand to the arm attached to the hand on his face as he watched those blue eyes above him. He had to mentally tell himself over and over that his Samandriel was alright, that he was alive and whole and was going to stay that way. “I refuse to let you go.”
“Tonight or always?” he asked, bending down to brush his lips against Michael’s, an attempt at comfort that might’ve fallen short on anyone else, but this was Michael. His Michael. Showing worked far, far better than telling. It was strange to Samandriel that this was the reaction he was getting. He remembered dreaming it, remembered waking up wholly angelic and going to Lucifer feeling nothing but profound relief that it was over. He’d been screaming in his sleep for weeks before things finally ended. Dean still screamed, though he knew the mechanic would never admit it to anyone but the angel who woke up with him and held him close until he stopped. The pain Michael brought to their damaged table wasn’t anything Samandriel hadn’t seen before. They would make it through all of this. Together.
He couldn’t promise always. Michael, for everyone’s descriptions of him, was still an unknown. He could take over completely, could wipe away everything that he had been in favor of the archangel. He could be the same, nothing about who he was aside from the wings and the power and everything else, could possibly change. Or if he was different who was to say that he wouldn’t love Samandriel anyway, anything was possible. But it was all uncertain and there was hardly anything Michael liked less than uncertainty. Embracing it was going to be very uncomfortable. “Always.”
There was no way embracing such uncertainty was going to be easy, but that didn’t mean that Samandriel wasn’t going to reward him for trying. He gently leaned forward to push Michael back to laying down as he kissed him slow and sure as though Michael might feel the young angel’s pride in him for getting over that first extraordinarily frightening hurdle. “I’ve got you,” he promised again, whispered it over and over against Michael’s lips so much that it had to sound like ‘I love you’ by the time he shut himself up again.
It shouldn’t have been that hard, letting himself rely on Samandriel. His time in the military had been one massive trust exercise, when it came down to it all a soldier really had was the person next to them. That was a lot easier while he had been deployed, civilian life was different even if he and Dean and probably every other vet was still carrying around bits and pieces of it with them. But he loved his little angel, was willing to try for his sake, mostly to make sure that Michael never had to see tears in his eyes again. Right now though he didn’t want to have to think about any of it, the important thing was that Samandriel was alive and safe and happy. Michael wanted to focus on that.
“You have to keep yourself safe now.” an hour ago that would have been an order, right now it was closer to a statement. “I don’t want to have found you just to lose you again.” He ran a hand through Samandriel’s hair, doing his best not to look for blood or wounds anywhere on him. “How could-” he decided not to finish that last question, it was too painful and likely would have resulted in Michael being angry again, or asking the other niggling little question: where had Michael been and why hadn’t he stopped it from happening.
“I’m doing my best,” Samandriel said softly, letting Michael touch and look wherever he liked. “Come on,” he said pulling away, but not out of reach. “Let’s take a shower. I think you could use one after that.” There were some things that only hot water and soap could fix. Perhaps a bath might’ve been nicer, but he wasn’t going to pressure Michael into anything he truly didn’t want. Some people were just weird about baths and a shower would really let him manhandle Samandriel, let him push the angel around and literally check every inch of him.
Samandriel probably could have gotten away with asking anything of Michael at that moment, but a shower did sound good. He was feeling more than a little drained, not just from the sex but from their talk after and watching Samandriel die. Warm water would either wake him up or put him to sleep and in that moment either sounded good to him. He wasn’t aware that angels didn’t sleep, or if Samandriel had told him he didn’t remember, but Michael still slept. More like a cat than a man really, not so much through the night as a lot of little naps through the day and night. More of the weird things his brain now made him do. He would probably have to share some of them with Samandriel soon, but for now he was happy enough to let his little angel lead him from the bed.
Lucifer’s home was anything but modest. It might not have been a proper mansion, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t living in a way indicative of his means. The guest room had a full attached bath that Samandriel led his lover to. It might not have been the excessively spacious and fancy thing that he and Lucifer shared, but it was still very nice. Home was where you knew exactly how the shower worked, and so Samandriel positioned himself in such a way that Michael could see every move he made to get the thing to turn on and alright, so there was a bit of heavenly Will in there to make it the perfect temperature faster. He walked over to the linen closet and got them out a handful of fluffy towels and small bottles of shampoo and conditioner that were both luxurious and not offensive to the angel’s heightened senses. He wondered as he brought things down whether Michael would decide later that Samandriel smelled like Lucifer or like Lucifer smelled of Samandriel.
Michael had watched him with no other thoughts than just that the young angel was incredibly beautiful, at least at first. He seemed to move deliberately in a certain way that attracted the eye. It made him wonder if Samandriel knew that his simple act of walking back and forth was attractive, it was more than that though. The way he moved, how he held his shoulders and chin, even the sounds of his barefeet across the floor, it absolutely demanded Michael’s attention. He wouldn’t have been at all surprised if it had been intentional, the little angel was clever, probably knew how to wrap everyone in a room around his little finger even before he set foot through the door.
The question for Michael though was how much had Samandriel already planned out for him. When he came back Michael took Samandriel in his arms, pulling him into an affectionate, quick kiss. “Did you plan on having me here from the beginning?”
Samandriel arched a brow at Michael, smirking just a little up at him. “You know, I’m glad that you’re one of the few people who gives me credit for being exactly as clever as I am, but...not consciously, no.” He tipped his chin up to kiss Michael slowly. “Things are shifting in my life and I want the people who are the most important to me as close as possible. You… You surprised me as much as I surprised you. I planned on getting you fond of me initially just… for survival’s sake.” It was a shameful thing to admit, but Michael knew more about Samandriel’s motivations for trying to protect them all than even Castiel or Gabriel did.
“And then I couldn’t stop thinking about you, couldn’t stop wanting you as close as possible. Couldn’t do anything but love you whether or not you were going to be someone who’s known me since I was first made.” He reached up to touch Michael’s face, completely genuine and fond at him. “I’d...planned on letting you live your life apart from me somehow, but I look at you and I want you out of reach as much as I want him out of reach. I can’t explain it, but that’s where it is. You two are vital to me.”
“Wise enough to see it, but not strong enough to want to fight it.” He was vaguely aware of Samandriel’s manipulations but he didn’t care. It wouldn’t have worked if Michael really hadn’t wanted it to, or wanted him. But Michael did understand for the most part, Samandriel hadn’t ever lied to him as far as he knew, so he believed him and the reasons he had given behind some of the things he had said and done.
He smiled down at him, though really their height difference wasn’t much to speak of, it was actually rather perfect as far as Michael was concerned. Samandriel simply had to tilt his chin up and Michael could claim those lips any time he wished. To hell with Dean calling him short, at least he didn’t have to bend down to kiss someone. Michael decided to take advantage of his ease in kissing Samandriel to kiss him again and pull him along into the shower with him, letting out a happy groan when he felt the warm water on his skin. “Vital. I like that word. It’s perfect.”
Samandriel groaned quietly, the sound mostly lost in the shower. “Our most vulnerable parts exist outside of our bodies,” he murmured against those lips, “when we choose to love or love chooses us and we put our hearts in the hands of other people.” He brushed their noses together, still talking just loud enough to be heard. “It’s one of the hardest things in the world to say, here, this thing that I’ve kept locked up tight inside me for so long is yours to look after now. I trust you.” And trusting someone was far harder and meant far more than loving them in Samandriel’s book. He trusted Michael. Perhaps he didn’t trust Michael quite as much as he trusted Lucifer, but that was irrelevant. Trust was trust just as love was love. Samandriel didn’t do anything in degrees of intensity. He simply did or did not. Middleground was for people who lacked conviction.
He stepped away only far enough to get the shampoo and nudge Michael further under the spray. He wanted to do this. No archangel was going to stop him, currently powerful or otherwise.
Michael moved when he nudged him, still digesting what he had said about trust. It was easy enough to forget that Samandriel was in the body of a very young man a lot of the time, his manner was definitely more angel than teenager. At least he was different from what Michael remembered about being a teenager, but then again that was over a decade ago and at the time he had been all fists, and bloody noses, and smirks, and fucking just about anybody that looked at him twice. It had taken the academy and the war to mature him enough into being mostly tolerable, he hadn’t been as wise as Samandriel seemed to be.
Glancing back to him, Michael finally noticed what Samandriel had gone for and what he was probably planning to do. One dark brow shot up.
“No arguing,” Samandriel said firmly as he reached up to lather his fingers into Michael’s hair. He didn’t mean to even accidentally challenge the man’s ability to tend to himself. All he wanted was to take care of him and to do something that he knew felt good. A lover’s fingers against your scalp were far different than a nurse’s. Samandriel knew where to press that would feel good, or feel anything at all, and he wasn’t going to shy away from Michael’s scars. They were part of him. That was all that mattered.
“Oh I wouldn’t dream of it.” Michael smirked and good to his word when he didn’t say a thing against it or be difficult. He even leaned his head forward, letting Samandriel get all of his hair. It had been a long time before Michael’s hair had been allowed to grow back, the whole first year it was shaved off, the second it was cut very short because occasionally his skull would have to be opened again for one procedure or another. But once it had been left alone it had grown in as full and thick as ever, mostly covering the mess of scars and scar tissue that stretched from behind one ear to the other. For the most part he didn’t mind getting his hair touched or played with just as long as he didn’t get any looks when the scars and other bumps were found.
Samandriel already knew about them, had already felt them, and with his very talented fingers Michael was more than happy to let him play or even wash his hair. It did feel good though, the warm water and the angel’s fingers, it wasn’t long before he was letting out little pleased hums. “You know,” he said, eyes closed and letting Samandriel do as he wished. “When you said you would take care of me I didn’t realize you were being literal.”
“There’s more than one way to take care of someone,” Samandriel murmured, nudging Michael’s head back to rinse his hair clean. When he was done, he pulled him down for another slow, deep kiss. Michael was his. There was no question about it. He wasn’t going anywhere and whatever was coming for them, they’d deal with it. He wasn’t going to let him get lost. “I want to touch you every way possible. To fill you up with knowing how good things can feel so you stand a better chance at remembering me when it’s hardest for you to.” Both now and when The Archangel would come. “Touch and smell help trigger memories.” Smell was allegedly the strongest, but he thought that Michael was more tactile than that and knew that for both of them sound was far more important. “Good things,” he murmured again, “like getting you to associate the shampoo I use with being warm and safe and cared for. Allowing yourself to let someone else take things for a while.”
“Ah, more being ingeniously clever.” Michael smiled, resting his forehead against Samandriel’s for a moment as he wrapped his arms low around his waist then stole a quick kiss. He didn’t mind, not really, it was good of his little angel to be so concerned with making sure that even if parts of Michael wouldn’t stick around he would at least have some memory of how he used to be. “Just as long as you’re doing it because it’s something you want to do, not just because you’ll think I’ll remember it better.”
He appreciated what Samandriel was trying to do a great deal. If he didn’t adore the little angel enough before he certainly did now. But he also wanted to be sure that he was enjoying the moment, not letting that remarkable intellect run away with him so that instead of savoring it, he was already thinking about what to do next. The kiss that came next was tender and it lingered longer than Michael had thought it would, but he couldn’t help himself. “I do feel very loved and wanted.”
Samandriel smiled into that kiss. “Oh Michael,” he murmured against those tender lips, “nobody makes me do anything I don’t want to do. Not you. Not Lucifer. Not him.” He shifted his hands over Michael’s shoulder, looking up at him like a man who was exactly where he wanted to be and exactly with whom he wanted to be. “Because you are,” he said simply. “Loved and wanted and mine.” If he could marry them both, he probably would, but this wasn’t a world where he could have himself a gay harem and while Lucifer was clearly content with him, he wasn’t sure Michael would feel the same way or perhaps be half so good at sharing. It would take work. He hoped that both his men were willing to put it forth. Lucifer would be. Michael, both now and in the future was an unknown.
“Oh I’m pretty well aware of that.” You didn’t tell Samandriel what to do and you didn’t tell him no, Michael had picked up on that rather quickly. Knowing it and accepting it were clearly two different things as he was frequently in denial when it came to his ability to resist the will of the little angel. It wasn’t said with any malice or anything other than good-natured amusement though. He liked him as he was, even if Michael knew he was never going to win. “Just as long as you’re easy with yourself.”
They had told Michael something similar in physical therapy. Michael ignored them usually, he often was pointlessly stubborn.
“Yours.” his smile was bright and genuine, not one that was seen on him often when he wasn’t with Samandriel. “Will I have to go out and find a ‘property of Samandriel’ shirt now, or have my dog tags altered? I don’t think they make Samandriel medals.”
“When I break, I’m sure between the lot of you someone can put me back together again,” Samandriel replied, well aware that it was going to come eventually. The wounds might’ve been healed, but that didn’t mean much of anything when his heart still hurt. He had meant to condition Michael’s hair, but found himself standing close and enjoying the heat of the water and his lover’s closeness instead.
“You don’t have to get anything,” he promised. “Just as long as you know it’s true that’s all that matters.” He was comfortable there, even wet and on slick stone tile. He trusted Michael to protect him the same as he did Lucifer to an extent. Except perhaps Lucifer had the ability to smite people already. Chances were that Michael would be the one to actually pull the angel out of the shit he probably got himself into whereas Lucifer was content to let Samandriel solve his own problems. “Though I do like it so I might have to put some kind of ring on it somewhere.”
Conditioner was just a pointless expense, as far as Michael was concerned, so he wasn’t bothered when it didn’t happen. In fact he hadn’t even noticed. Michael was a three in one man, and not even a good one or a particular brand, he just bought whatever was cheap. He was a little better about his clothes but not much, he had recently stopped buying clothes at Walmart, that was a step up. He wasn’t a cheap man, he simply had different priorities with his money, his personal appearance just wasn’t much of a priority. He was simply used to living like a soldier.
He didn’t much care for talk of Samandriel breaking, after watching him be tortured and killed he might have been a little sensitive to the idea of Samandriel in any sort of harm. But he wouldn’t argue that he had plenty of people around to care for him. If Gabe had been right, which Michael didn’t doubt, then Samandriel and that Castiel were the center of the ‘angel club’ and were surrounded by people who loved them.
“Put a ring on it? Oh, right, that song. Though that somewhere part does worry me a little.” he smirked. Of course his mind went a little dirty. “Just know, I already have a piercing, and I’m not getting another, so if that’s that if you’re thinking what I think you’re thinking.”
Samandriel wrinkled his nose. “No. I like you unpunctured,” he said, reaching to turn off the shower since it wasn’t doing anything but wasting water at this point. “But something nice on a chain maybe. I mean, there aren’t any medallions for me, but that doesn’t mean we can’t find you a symbol that’s just as meaningful.” He shrugged, reluctantly pulling away to get out of the shower. Baby steps and bed might be better for Michael sooner rather than later, though he didn’t seem tired. “Or I could find you a cheesy angel wing necklace on Etsy or something to wear,” he teased.
Michael would have said he was punctured enough, but that might have been in poor taste. Making light of the fact that he tended to closely resemble swiss cheese didn’t always go over well. It would have killed at the VA hospital or with any of his friends from the marines, but other than that Michael tended to keep it quiet. He didn’t want to worry his angel, he was still feeling fine from his earlier ‘healing’. “As long as it isn’t a tattoo, or, you know, a branding.”
He probably wasn’t approaching this as seriously as Samandriel was, but then again the angel said ‘forever’ and ‘always’ so easily. Michael was still mostly worried about waking up tomorrow, possibly being Michael and breaking Samandriel’s heart. He wasn’t sure if he’d be able to live with himself if that happened, it was hard enough letting him go so he could leave the shower first. But once they were out of the shower he grabbed a towel and he closed the distance between them. He was quick to unfold it, wrap it around the back of Samandriel’s neck and use it to pull him closer so he could steal a kiss. “I might regret saying this, but I’ll be happy to wear anything you wanted.”
“You’re lucky I’m me and not Gabriel or Dean,” Samandriel pointed out against Michael’s lips. It took very little angel mojo at all to get them both dry without the towel being factored into the equation more than the prop it already was. He slid his arms around Michael’s waist, smiling up at him. “I’ll find you something appropriate.” He smirked and winked at him. “Shame tattoos are off the table. I could give you the most gorgeous half sleeve, all watercolory and dancing up your arm like you hear when I speak.” He could simply will it into Michael’s skin at this point and it’d be exactly what he wanted it to be and not at all painful or something he might have to worry about taking care of afterward.
“Needles and pain are off the table.” The smile on the little angel was absolutely beautiful, as was everything else about him, but his smile was special. It was warm in a way that Michael hadn’t thought possible until he had seen it for himself. Samandriel was just made of love and made to love, that was how Michael understood it anyway. “If I never see another needle again I could probably die a very happy man.”
He wasn’t going to die though, was he. Archangel of the Lord, prince of heaven, commander of the armies of the Lord. As Michael he wouldn’t die, but Michael, the one holding heaven’s most adorable angel, who knew how long he had left.
“But we can discuss it later. Right now, sleep, I think.” he kissed the middle of Samandriel’s forehead. “Do angels even need to sleep? Gabriel mentioned something about you not eating, or at least not eating his chocolates at the very least. Which makes no sense to me, by the way, that stuff is amazing.”
The little angel tipped his head up into Michael’s touch, still content with all those little gestures of affection. “I meant I could give it to you. No pain. No needles. There are certain benefits to fucking Imagination.” Reluctantly, he pulled away so they could move into the bedroom, not out of reach but holding hands was very different to being all caught up in that embrace. “We don’t need to sleep, no, but I rather enjoy it still. It’s a quiet restful time of closeness. It doesn’t matter if I actually sleep or not, just being with someone makes it worth it.”
He flopped on the bed, killing the lights in the room and the attached bath with a gesture. “I don’t eat. It all tastes like… like molecules to me. The flavors don’t mix properly anymore and they’re all too intense. There’s some things that Gabriel does really subtly, and if I’d still been mostly human when I met him, I’d probably notice but now they all jump out at me and I have a hard time stomaching the act of tasting.”
“That’s…” Michael wasn’t entirely sure how to describe it as he climbed into bed, pulling Samandriel close once he was settled. He didn’t expect him to stay with him the whole night, after all Lucifer would return at some point and Samandriel would likely want to go to him, if he wasn’t in the house already. But that was alright with Michael, he understood that as much as the angel might have cared for him Lucifer was the one with the ring on his finger. That relationship took precedence, and he could accept that. “That’s actually very sad.”
Michael still may have needed to eat to sustain himself, but there was some simple pleasure in eating too. The taste, even the chewing could be entertaining. It made sense that he wouldn’t need to eat, but he wasn’t sure how anyone got over the desire. Gabriel obviously hadn’t.
“I had to make a lot of my own meals before Lucifer and I started dating. I wasn’t the best cook so eating was mostly something that happened because it had to and it got in the way of everything else I wanted to be doing. And… to be fair I didn’t much enjoy chocolate or sweets at all even then.” Some people just never had much of a sweet tooth. He’d eaten far too much candy once as a child and gotten ill and avoided it as much as possible after.
The angel settled comfortably in the space against Michael’s side that very nearly felt like it was made for him to be in. This was the kind of thing he would never, ever get over. Perhaps in his other life he wouldn’t have bothered with sleep, but in this one he knew what contact felt like here, knew what it was to relax and be safe in someone else’s arms to have them feel safe holding you in their own. He would give up a lot of things before that was cut. In the quiet comfort of Michael’s arms he said softly, “I have an audition for the LA Philharmonic later this month.” It was clear he was more nervous about it than he was trying to seem.
“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised by that,” Michael said, tilting his head down to rest against Samandriel’s. The pain hadn’t come back yet but he would still claim that touching any part of his head to any part of Samandriel made it feel even better. Silly, possibly, but Michael felt justified in indulging himself in this area. “You have the smallest thighs I have ever seen on a man. Tiny, but completely perfect.”
It really was no wonder that it was Samandriel that was called the little one, even with Gabriel being as short as he was.
“An audition?” Michael kissed whatever part of Samandriel was closest to his lips. “Hmm, you know what they about head wounds, right? That they change you and sometimes grant you special abilities. Like in my case I can occasionally see the future. When you said audition I got a flash.” Of course he was being playful, but sometimes that worked better than simple reassurance. “I saw you playing as exquisitely as you always do, and when you finished there wasn’t a dry eye in the room. The conductor got down on his knees and begged and pleaded for you to join them.”
“Careful, I can still kick your ass for now,” Samandriel teased back. “And it’s not my fault you went out and surrounded yourself with big hulking guys and now you go to work and train sometimes bigger masses of men. There’s something to be said for being small in some areas.” He snuggled a little closer when Michael kissed his head, relaxing into all that contact easily. He liked being touched. He’d gone too long and too far in his life without it before, well, Lucifer. It was one of those things he hadn’t realized he needed until it was something he had.
“There’s a difference between being able to play well solo and being able to play with an orchestra,” he pointed out. “I’m… This is a big deal for me. It might be the only real shot I have at a career in music. I think I might only get a decade or two at most before people start wondering why I haven’t aged a day or put on a single ounce of weight.” With talent like his, he wasn’t going to be able to just resurface somewhere else with a new name. If things went well for him, he’d be one of those guys who was The Person to get to play things and the existence of youtube wasn’t going to do him any favors as far as the actual longevity of his career was concerned.
“Samandriel, you are so much more than simply talented. It may not mean much from somebody who knows so little about music, but I think you’ve the ability to do anything you wanted with it. Nerves are okay too, you know? You just can’t let them make everything too big, you don’t want to let them overwhelm you and cause you to make a mistake where you normally wouldn’t make one. It’s like…” The arts really weren’t Michael’s thing. He didn’t have the talent for music or art or really anything other than hurting people. He thought in terms of combat even now, when he wasn’t actually in it.
“It’s like those ‘big bulking guys’ I work with. If you want to take one down you can’t think of them as one massive mass of muscle and testosterone. You break them down into parts. Soft tissues, tendons, arteries. Weak points. You make them small, you don’t forget about the rest of them, but you handle small bits at a time and it doesn’t overwhelm you.” His attempt might have worked better on the meatheads he generally had to talk into getting back up after they got knocked down, but he was trying. “You make it small, then you use it for fuel. Use those nerves to drive you forward, to keep you going instead of slowing you down.”
“The big guys you work with are easy to take down,” Samandriel pointed out. “Hell, if you ever wanna break some egos, you can totally throw them at me one day.” He was right though, they were all just a collection of parts. Samandriel could have them flat on their backs easily enough just with a glance at the way they shifted their weight. He kissed his lover’s chest. “Let me be nervous about it for a while? This is kinda what happens before a big performance for me. Like my last show with the youth symphony was a lot of nerves and worry leading up to it and then I was fine when it happened. It’s just how I deal. I’ll stress myself out a lot beforehand so that I’m all out of it by the time the event actually happens.” Maybe not everyone had that point of exhaustion when it came to stress, but Samandriel certainly knew where his was and how to get just to the perfect spot of far enough past it.
“Whatever you need.” He may not have liked the idea of Samandriel ever being tense or nervous, but if that was what had to happen then it wasn’t Michael’s place to say anything about it. He actually rather admired the angel for continuing to keep playing, and now possibly professionally beyond what he did at Lux. And Gabriel too, for doing what he loved. He supposed that was how one just had to learn to cope with being an angel, there may have been no need to eat or sleep anymore but there was no reason not to accomplish whatever they desire. “I may not get it, but I’m happy to help in whatever way I can.”
Samandriel leaned up to steal another kiss. “I know,” he said, stroking his fingers through thick dark hair just because he could. “Just listen to me practice and perhaps try to be kind if I get frustrated and can’t articulate why especially if it sounds perfect to your ears.” Angels heard differently and Samandriel himself worried about perhaps missing some delicate nuance in what he needed to be doing. “And remember that I love you.” Perhaps more than he ever loved the angel he called brother that Michael would become. It was a very, very strange situation for him to be in.
“I’ll try to be as sweet and supportive as I possibly can.” With his chromesthesia he might have been able to see any flaws, and he nearly mentioned that but decided against it. He was sure it was going to come off as perfect anyway, mostly because it was being performed by Samandriel. But if he wanted Michael to sit and listen he could easily do that and was more than happy to listen to the beautiful music. It was a great excuse to keep putting off watching Snakes On A Plane if he really needed one.
Thoughts of Gabe and his movies and Samandriel doing anything other than laying beside him and playing with his hair were easily forgotten as Michael let out a contented sigh and closed his eyes. He really could get used to this. “I love you too, my little angel.”
Samandriel was fine right until those final two words dropped from Michael’s lips. “Anything but that,” he said softly. “Little angel is Lucifer’s, and some things should be his alone.” It was an uncomfortable thing to bring up, partly because Samandriel really did enjoy being called that, but also because he didn’t want Michael to feel like he was encroaching on Lucifer any more than he possibly already did.
“Alright.” He said easily enough. It was Lucifer’s so he gave it up without argument, though a part of him did wonder how often that was going to happen, especially now that he was possibly going to be living with the pair of them. He still marvelled a little at how he had managed to talk him into it, and thought he would likely marvel at how he would do the same with his fiance. Were he in Lucifer’s place he certainly wouldn’t have allowed it, but Michael knew he didn’t know much of anything about how he was. Michael himself was used to sharing, but sharing a lover would be something new for him. “Would it be alright if I stuck to calling you by your name for a while?”
“Of course,” Samandriel said, settling against Michael again comfortably. “Get some rest, love. I’ll be here.” As long as Michael needed him, he would be there, and maybe even if he didn’t anymore.