Re: Quiet Home: Misha & Oliver
Misha had himself a decent sense of morality, and he reckoned that came with the wings, least his level of wings. Angels higher up, they did things folks would consider bad real often. Whoever thought Heaven was all made of good, and that Hell was all made of bad, they were being real simplistic. God had himself a Heavenly army, just as sure as Morningstar did, and make no mistake on that. But Misha, he wasn't made with those kinds of wings. Misha was crafted good, and even his version of immoral wasn't the hurting kind. Misha, he didn't believe in killing or robbing or disobeying his momma and daddy. He was good, long as you didn't think having sex plenty was sinning, and Misha didn't think it was sinning at all.
He was real harmless.
He kissed chaste, and he touched chaste, and he only pressed his belly against Oliver's fingers some little bit, and that was on account of the other boy tugging on fabric. He thought Oliver's jaw tasted real nice, like being outdoor and salt warmth layered, and Misha could get lost in the feeling of skin 'neath his tongue real quick.
Somehow, Misha was surprised some to hear Oliver talk, but that little sentence went right on down and dipped low in Misha's belly, and he kissed Oliver until he was breathless with the kissing. He pressed a little more at the other boy's hips, figuring he had permission to do so, and he kissed Oliver again, until he couldn't breathe any in encore. He grinned then, and he didn't move his hands any, even when he pulled his chin back and looked at Oliver's pretty face some. "Now we good and kissed, me and you," he told Oliver, as if Oliver hadn't been there, and if there wasn't still spit stringing them close. And Misha, he didn't move any, either. If Oliver wanted space, Oliver could go on and take it, but Misha thought this was real fine.