Who: Samandriel & Michael What: Michael doesn’t ask for help. His angel is highly disappointed. When: 2/19 Where: Their place Rating: High Status: Complete
Michael had taken the day off and spent it in bed alone. Just him and his migraine buried under blankets with his earplugs and noise cancelling headphones and dark bandana tied to cover his eyes for hours. He had taken his medication when he got up that morning, it hadn’t stopped that minor headache from turning into a full-blown migraine, but he hadn’t expected it to. Some time yesterday he had started craving lukewarm water and yawning at regular intervals, which was a few of the many signs he had grown to recognize meant that a migraine was coming. He could have told Samandriel about it then, could have likely had the angel stop it in its tracks, but he didn’t. Then the aura phase started after Samandriel had left for school, so Michael was left with little choice as he refused to call him away from his classes. He’d informed work and then got himself back into bed just as he completely lost vision out of his left eye and focused all of his attention on not losing the contents of his stomach as well.
His vision returned fairly quickly but then it moved abruptly into the attack phase and Michael rode it out, occasionally cursing his stubbornness into his pillow. Never again, he told himself. He didn’t need to suffer, not when he lived with angels, but part of him had wondered if this was his own way of teaching himself a lesson about accepting help. Or worse, that this was his own way of asserting his strength, that he still had his control. Whatever it was, after long hours of just laying there awake while his mind tried to wander beyond his pain, he decided it wasn’t worth it.
At some point, Michael wasn’t sure when as he had completely lost track of the time, he felt movement on the bed. He groaned softly, almost wanting them to leave even if it was who he suspected. He didn’t make a move to pull the covers back and show his face yet but he did pull off the headphones and removed the earplugs, then spoke softly, his voice surprisingly clear even though he hadn’t said a word in several hours. “Samandriel?”
The young angel didn’t answer with words right away. Instead, he just rested his hand on whatever bare skin he could find and healed the harm Michael was suffering through. Perhaps he should have waited, should have delivered his lecture while the man was still in pain to drive the point home. However, he’d learned a thing or two about the best way to drive his point home from the only person who dared to call him out on anything.
“Do you really hate yourself so much that you can’t bring yourself to ask for help when you need it?” he asked, voice calm and just edging on disappointed. He smoothed his fingers through Michael’s hair soothingly. “Or do you simply lack faith in either me or your worth to me to think that I would perhaps refuse you the moment you called?” He tucked his legs under him, waiting for Michael to pull the covers back on his own.
“Or maybe I’m just an idiot.” he suggested, finally undoing that bandana and pulling it off before pushing the covers down a bit. There wasn’t much light in the room but he still blinked a few times to adjust, it was nice seeing the world again without pain in his vision. Of course now an unhappy blue was radiating at him. He had expected that. “I tend to think the idiot one makes the most sense. I don’t believe suffering is good for the soul and I have boundless faith in you so I must be an idiot.”
The blue was easier to deal with than that face looking down at him, those big blue eyes that he knew actually could see right through him. Still, he avoided direct eye contact, not that it would do anything because he knew Samandriel’s vision didn’t really work in the normal way. “It’s not a big deal,” he wasn’t making excuses or trying to play it off, he was just attempting to avoid a drawn-out conversation about him and his pain. “It hurt for a while and now I know better than to not speak up.”
Samandriel’s fingers brushed down Michael’s cheek. “Does knowing better mean you’re not going to make the same mistake again?” He tipped Michael’s chin up to encourage him to actually make eye contact. He was still supposed to be in school technically, but forging certain documents was far easier with a few angel tricks up his sleeves. Still, it was better to be with someone who needed him and clearly had no idea what time it actually was. “Do you want me to give you a more permanent solution?” He hadn’t wanted to risk it before, but he was pretty sure he could manage things properly if Michael wished him to. It meant he’d have to dig deeper into the man’s head to figure out how things were working and how to put them back together without leaving parts of himself, but he’d done it before. He could do it again.
There was a soft sigh there but he didn’t resist when Samandriel made him meet those big blue eyes. What could he say? He wanted to say yes and mean it but his mind didn’t always work the way he wanted it, sometimes reason and logic just seemed to take a vacation when his pain started growing unmanageable. For Samandriel though he could say yes and that meant he would do everything within his power to mean it. “Yes.” But then came his offering of a solution and he slowly shook his head. “You said it was risky, I wouldn’t want you to do anything you’re not sure of completely. But I think that, when the time comes that I can handle it myself, however soon that might be, I ought to be the one to do it.”
“Risky was the wrong word. Invasive more. A man should be allowed his secrets, and I know that you’d be particularly stubborn about sharing your pain with me.” There was probably a better way to do things, but Samandriel found that taking on someone else’s pain offered the cleanest way to mend a wound. He ducked his head to steal a kiss like somehow that really would just make it better. “You’re beautiful and I love you. Even your broken parts.” He pulled back to look at Michael again. “And your secrets. Whatever they are.” There was something nice about being completely open and honest with Lucifer, but Samandriel was sure he couldn’t manage it with anyone else. He wasn’t going to lie to anyone, but there was a certain amount he had to keep to himself just to keep sane. “Just don’t go running off on me.”
“I’m a good soldier,” he said softly, reaching out to touch Samandriel’s cheek with the backs of his fingers. “Good soldiers don’t run. I don’t run. Michael doesn’t run.” Of course Michael was the first of the archangels and gifted with incredible power, others ran from him. The beating of his wings and his footfalls were the sounds of the drums of inevitability, as far as he knew. “I will never abandon you, Samandriel. I love you.”
He wouldn’t have left Samandriel to the fate that he had showed him. He would have known he was gone, he told himself, wouldn’t have allowed him to be taken. Wouldn’t have let Castiel kill him, and would have destroyed Crowley so utterly and completely for what he had done there would be nothing left of the demon for anyone to use as proof that he had ever existed. Why the Michael Samandriel had known didn’t see to all of that he wasn’t sure, but he swore he would be different.
Samandriel closed his eyes, basking in that light touch. He turned his head to kiss the heel of his palm when it drew close enough to his mouth. “Are you settling in okay?” he asked. It wasn’t as if he didn’t already know most of the answer, but it helped to hear it anyway. He opened his eyes again, searching Michael’s own. Maybe he loved a little too hard and a little too fast. One day, he was sure it was going to bite him in the ass, and maybe Michael would be the one to do it. He didn’t know. He almost didn’t want to know. “I heard Dean came over the other day.” Or rather he’d seen traces of Dean’s presence in the house and assumed that things had perhaps either gone well or very badly.
“When Dean isn’t randomly showing up and Gabe isn’t sending me chocolate animals it’s actually pretty peaceful around here. I haven’t lived somewhere peaceful with other people since I was a kid, it’s nice not having to cut myself off.” Now when he did it it was because he wanted to, not because he had to. “I like it here. I like seeing you so often and I enjoy talking to Lucifer even if I feel blinded most of the time.” He wanted Samandriel to know he was happy, that he was getting what he wanted and that Michael was happy to give it to him.
He moved his hand from the angel’s cheek down to his side, happy to see and to touch without pain. “Yeah, Dean came in shirtless. Probably had been working on the cars. We played the adult, not at all straight, version of gay chicken and then he left. I’m going to say he won because I backed off first.”
“There’s a straight version of gay chicken?” Samandriel asked, arching a brow. He shifted enough to stretch out next to Michael on his bed. It was nice there with him. Really, really nice. Peaceful in a way he hadn’t expected time with Michael could have ever been. “Ignore Dean. He lashes out like that when he gets territorial and upset. He burns hot, but he doesn’t burn long.” He might smoulder a bit because this was Michael, but Samandriel really didn’t think it was something really noteworthy.
“Gay chicken is supposed to be between straight guys, otherwise it would just be called chicken.” Michael pointed out, wrapping an arm around Samandriel. He wouldn’t presume to label Dean’s sexuality but it was safe to say he wasn’t straight, and in his own case he was more interested in having sex than worrying about a partner’s genetalia or gender idenity. He did have a ‘type’ though, they tended to be more like Dean or Ana, just one of the many reasons why his instant attraction and love for the angel of imagination had surprised him.
“Oh, believe me, I know what Dean is like.” even if there hadn’t been any sexual dynamic involved back in the service he tended to treat the vehicles in his care better and more possessively than he had seen any lover and most parents. “I’m just happy I didn’t make an ass out of myself. I really don’t need to sleep with Dean Winchester. That’s just a bad idea.”
“Not without prior clearance from Castiel at least,” Samandriel said, tucking himself comfortably in Michael’s arms. “That’s the bad idea.” It would have been a more obvious joke if he wasn’t so content wrapped up like this. “You know you’re talking like some part of you wants to. Or is at least thinking about it.”
“After what I saw him do to you I really couldn’t care less about Castiel’s feelings.” They might have found a way to get past it but Michael was fostering a little bit of a grudge, even if he was being civil to the angel when they spoke online. He would probably come around later, but for now he was happy to be surly, at least in his head, towards one of the people that had hurt his Samandriel.
“Maybe, I don’t think it’s actually about sex though.” Sure, Dean was attractive, Michael wouldn’t try to argue with that as it was obviously true, but that wasn’t the bulk of his appeal. It was making Dean obey, making him come to heel, that was what Michael was drawn to. The possibility of controlling the notoriously willful Winchester did more for him than seeing him with his shirt off did. “Don’t worry, I’m not so eager to go everywhere Lucifer has been.”
"Castiel doesn't know," Samandriel said softly, "not about that. Not yet at least. Clearly he will in time, but for now...there are certain tragedies that are best left unspoken until they happen. For my part...it was an end to it. It'd been weeks and weeks of near constant pain, and what I was going to face had he taken me back home would have been more of the same. At least in death, I was no longer suffering." He wasn't going to stop Michael from being either protective or possessive of him. There wasn't any point to that, not when he actually enjoyed it from him as opposed to everyone else who seemed to slap those feelings on him. Michael at least understood and respected what he was, knew that he could handle himself if it came down to it.
"Lucifer goes places I don't," he said softly, nestling closer so his fingers could stroke idly along Michael's side. "But if it's not about the sex you should really know that Dean will bend for Lucifer and break for Castiel." The bending was generally better and far healthier than the breaking, but god help anyone who pointed that out to either Winchester. It wasn't the best conversation to be having all cuddled up close, but there weren't many topics Samandriel ever tended to shy away from. "You should kiss me." Just like that. If he was skipping school due to an illness in the family or a psych appointment or something, he should at least have some fun while he was playing hookie.
“I don’t care, it’s not going to happen.” he said in regards to Michael ever sleeping with Dean. No one but the little angel in his arms was irresistible, and Michael could resist Dean, even if he did come to him one day and beg for it. Dominating Winchester might have been fun, but it came with a lot more problems and entanglements than he was willing to deal with. He was in deep enough with Samandriel anyway, that was more than enough for him.
He didn’t touch on Samandriel’s words about his death and Castiel. There were other solutions, there had to be. Michael was sure that if he had been there he would have found a way to keep heaven at bay and put the angel of imagination back together again. But that was Michael all over. If he wanted a job done right he did it himself, everyone else was too incompetent to get anything done. “Should I?” he teased lightly, feeling better had lifted his mood a great deal. “Why should I do that?”
Samandriel smiled, stretching out so he could look down at Michael into those beautiful green eyes. “Beeeeeecauuuuuuuuse,” he said, running a fingertip down Michael’s cheek. “You love me. And you maybe want me all to yourself?” he teased, keeping out of reach. “Right?”
“Hmm,” Michael smirked, moving his arms to wrap low around his waist. He liked his angel like this, all smiles and kisses, no worrying about him or anything else. This was how he should have been allowed to be all the time. He knew he wasn’t easy to deal with given how stubborn he could be, but he liked to think that even with his flaws he helped bring out that happy side more often. “Maybe,” he leaned up in an attempt to steal a kiss. “Wanting you all to myself, that sounds awfully possessive. Doesn’t sound like me at all.”
The young angel shifted on top of the other man, almost wishing he was under the covers too, but it was almost nicer this way. More teasing as he ducked out of the way to avoid the kiss. “You do,” he said, arching his back and propping himself up on his forearms to stay out of reach. “I can feel it rolling off of you like you see my voice. All that desire, that protective possessiveness. Do you even know how fierce you are?” He licked his lips almost like he was thinking about devouring Michael himself.
“Am I fierce?” It wasn’t the word he would have used, he was generally more inclined to call himself pathetic, but that was because he knew his own flaws and failings and broken mind better than anyone else. It wasn’t something he ever would have said to Samandriel. The angel knew enough of Michael’s self-doubt and vulnerability, he didn’t feel the need to lay himself completely bare and exposed before that beauty. He wouldn’t argue the rest of it, he knew it to be very true.
Michael was fierce. The archangel was a great many things that Michael didn’t feel he was, but when it came to Samandriel, he could occasionally see it. Perhaps not the level of fierce that the angel was speaking of, but he was passionate and intense when it came to the angelic being currently avoiding his kiss. “Let me kiss you?” It was still a question, it was playful. But if he was going to keep ducking him he would be forced to get commanding. He wanted those lips.
Samandriel tilted his head. “You are. You use it to protect all the soft parts you don’t want anyone to see. And to keep the things important to you close where you can make sure nothing awful happens to them.” He knew it’d been a low blow to share his torture particularly because of Michael’s history, but it’d gotten the desired effect. He smirked at the man beneath him. “Come and claim what’s yours gorgeous.”
As Samandriel gave him permission his hands moved to the top of the blankets, holding to them as he easily rolled them both over. Samandriel was on his back now, arms and body trapped under the blankets and Michael’s weight against him. He wouldn’t crush the little angel, but he wanted him to know that he was going nowhere, unless he decided to cheat and fly away or use one of his angel abilities to overpower Michael. He doubted that would happen though, he seemed to like being claimed as much as Michael liked to claim him. The kiss was light and sweet at first but it grew deeper and more tender, Michael only breaking it when he did because he still needed to breathe. “You are mine, Samandriel, you always will be.”
Wrapped up in a kind of blanket burrito, Samandriel worried for half a breath that he might actually freak out over it. But no. This was Michael, and he trusted him more than he probably ought to. Of all the beings who had done wrong by him in the dreams themselves, Michael and Lucifer ranked rather near the bottom. Of all the people who had done right by him in this world, the two he lived with were at the top. He wouldn't have kept them both around like this otherwise. He melted into that kiss, trusting Michael to keep him safe and not abuse the power granted to him by the position he allowed himself to be in. He hoped that would go as far as the one he couldn't help but be in as well, but love sometimes didn't work the way everyone seemed to think it should.
He groaned softly in protest as his warrior pulled away. "As you are mine," he said almost wishing his hands were free so he could trace those freckles. He didn't need to be on top to claim anyone. Michael was his and absolutely no one was going to change that. "Always."
There were downsides to that position of course, with the blanket between them he couldn’t touch more than Samandriel’s exposed face and neck, and while he was incredibly fond of both being able to touch any and all parts of him was better. Still, he wasn’t quite willing to move yet, he kissed those lips again then nuzzled his soft cheek, light stubble scratching across it teasingly. “Thank you for coming in to heal me.” It wasn’t necessary by now but Michael never wanted his angel to feel unappreciated. “Did I call you? I can’t remember.”
"You didn't," Samandriel said. "I kept waiting for you to, but you're a stubborn idiot when you want to be." He stretched his neck, hoping to get more contact out of Michael, like somehow he might be able to will him into getting rid of the blanket sooner rather than later. "I feel too much," he murmured, "from the people I care about it's..." One of them had to be aware. It let him feel like perhaps he could keep his family from suffering some of the same things he'd gone through since the typical OC weird tended to hit them all more violently. "It's not a bad thing, but it's there. Some people let down their walls enough that I can have whole conversations with them without speaking or just...pluck thoughts out of the air in a way. Others it's just feelings or images. Imagination is both a blessing and a curse."
Michael let out a groan, though not the sort Samandriel was used to hearing. This time he was groaning over his own stupidity, definitely not as nice as groaning over the many ways imagination put his hands and his lips to good use. “You don’t lie to angels, you don’t try to keep obvious secrets from them either. I keep forgetting. Serves me right.” Michael kissed his ear then lowered his lips to that neck he felt was crying out for attention. “I am sorry. If I had known you would feel it…”
Not because he wouldn’t be able to lie and said he felt fine but because his angel could feel any measure of his pain or at least feel his thoughts of pain. He had promised to protect him and letting any of that touch Samandriel implied to him that he wasn’t exactly doing the best job. “You’re welcome to smack me if I’m that stupid again.”
"What did you think this was?" Samandriel pointed out, rocking up against Michael as much as the blanket allowed. "I smacked you. I've moved on to rewarding you for accepting help instead," he teased. "Or having my way with you by convincing you to have your way with me. One of the two." He nudged his nose against his lover's jaw, almost wishing that there was some kind of world where he could legally offer the same kinds of promises to Michael that he'd known since the moment the other archangel walked into his life that Lucifer was getting. This was what home felt like to him. Like he could finally find himself complete and content with what he had. He was almost sure he didn't even need to leave the house to get what he needed any longer.
"I'm putting a ring on it," he said softly, sure that at some point either Gabriel or someone else had introduced Michael to Beyonce. "And maybe it won't have the same kind of significance that it might have from someone in a different situation, but I'd like you to be able to have something on you that...that reminds you of me and you can maybe fiddle with when you're anxious or will help you to remember that you are loved, that even though it's to one of heaven's smallest angels, you're still vital that you mean home too."
The smile on Michael’s lips came easy and he shifted his weight from one side then to the other as he pulled the blanket from between them and pushed it aside. Samandriel was very good at getting what he wanted, be it that blanket gone or getting Michael to think about having his way with the little angel. Michael knew it too, yet he was alright with it. Samandriel, no matter what he may have thought, deserved to be happy in every way possible. “It all sounds good, why choose?”
Michael had missed his medal, even if it meant nothing to him now. It had been good to have something to fiddle with, to focus on when the pain got to be too much or when he was feeling anxious. He used to say prayer helped, not that he ever suspected that Michael cared about the heap of broken soldier he was now, but the act itself had been therapeutic. Now he really did have someone to answer his prayers but he still had the urge to keep his hands busy and sometimes the games on his phone just weren’t a practical replacement. “If it’s from you then it would be the most important, significant thing I had, even if it didn’t mean anything to anyone who saw it.”
Samandriel couldn’t help but smile softly up at Michael, clearly absolutely enamored with the man above him. “Did they teach you charm at the academy or did you hone that naturally?” He leaned up to steal another tender, slow kiss no matter how brief it ended up being. Michael complicated things. It was to be expected of course. Honestly, Samandriel had been planning on Michael doing just that, had mapped out so many different scenarios in which the other archangel’s arrival might tilt the world on its side. This was not one of the possibilities he’d accounted for, a blind spot of true, genuine love that nearly knocked him off his feet. Perhaps if he truly healed the man he could lay his claim to him properly and keep the archangel out.
“May I tell you a secret?” he asked, but didn’t pause for a response more than to get himself another kiss. “I want you to myself as badly you want to keep me, but I know it’s the most unfair thing in the world to ask of you. I look at you and I know that I shouldn’t be so possessive, but all I can think is mine.” It was different with Lucifer. He looked at Lucifer and thought yours, and there were rainbows and sparkles and it was truly the sappiest most romantic thing ever. “Turns out angels can be hypocrites too.”
All that sentimentality and affection was all Michael, it was how he had been as a boy before his father had managed to beat most of it out of him. Even then it wasn’t gone. It slipped out here and there during his teens when he would throw himself into relationships while also having everyone who thought to look at him twice, he would get attached and emotional. He wasn’t exactly clingy but he was fierce and intense when he loved someone. Too many heartaches had taught him to avoid relationships when he finally made it into the academy, he consoled himself by fucking his roommate into the mattress every night the mousey cadet made himself available. In the military he didn’t have time for anything beyond the occasional one night stand, but after he had been sent home he found himself trying to come to terms with his need for affection and his desire to give it. He had simply planned to bury it down, another casualty of his injury that on rare occasions was brought out for a night or two when he was lucky enough to hold someone’s interest.
Samandriel had come along and changed the whole game.
“Angels aren’t perfect, no matter what I may say about them. About you. Though you are close, Lucifer possibly too, but in different ways.” He took a kiss because he frankly felt behind in his tally for the day. “Do you think you’ll still feel that way when I’m an archangel? And what if…” he had to touch on this topic at some point, better now when things were still new and his angel was happy. “What happens if I find someone else I also care about?”
The young angel’s fingers in Michael’s hair kept them both as close together as he dared try to keep Michael to anything. “You’ll still be in there somewhere,” he murmured. “So even if there’s some sort of archangelic resistance, some part of you is absolutely still mine.” He licked his lips, really not wanting to think about Michael with anyone who didn’t already live in his house. “Are you going to be honest with them about me?” he asked, voice dropping softer without his permission. “I can’t be someone’s dirty little secret again. The only way this works is with full disclosure and communication. I mean...I probably won’t like it very much, but I’ll deal. I’m not going to tell you that you have to be mine and mine alone when we both know I can’t give you the same. And…”
He had to pause, knew that in stopping for that tight breath, Michael would probably be able to see just how hard what came next for Samandriel was. “And if at some point, you needed to be with someone who could give you themselves completely, I’d respect your decision. It would hurt and...and I’d probably not want to see you for a while, but it’d be selfish of me to try to stop you from feeling as fulfilled as possible.” Michael was the exact counterbalance he needed to Lucifer. He supposed it should have made so much sense earlier on, but it hadn’t occurred to him. He’d gone seeking it out in other people, in Damon and to an extent Castiel and Dean. “Just know that you’d be taking a piece of me with you.” A piece that Samandriel knew he’d neither get back nor want back for the rest of time.
“Let’s not worry about something that may not happen.” he was quick to say, mostly to comfort Samandriel who looked like a little kid who had just seen someone kick his new puppy. He kissed him sweetly, making silent little promises to him that everything was going to be alright and that he was never going to stop loving him. Even if he did leave their home at some point he didn’t want to imagine being without the little angel under him. And even then, he felt it would take a lot for him to actually leave, perhaps it would be easier for the archangel but for the man it wasn’t an easy thought.
“If something does happen, if I meet someone, I will be honest. But I wouldn’t allow myself to be pushed into a position where I had to choose between you.” And even if he was, well, Samandriel was pretty much immortal as long as he wasn’t harmed, as Michael would be when the archangel when he came. He believed his love for Samandriel could last millennia.
“Worrying about things that may not happen is what happens when imagination gets used for combat tactics and not art,” he whispered, well aware of the ways that the archangel Michael would be had corrupted him. “It’s harder to forget how to do that.” It was part of why he hadn’t technically picked a side when Castiel rose up against Raphael. He was with Castiel, of course, but only because his essence couldn’t take fighting so much anymore. He’d offered the prophet’s mother his friends and not himself for a reason.
He nudged his nose against Michael’s, a gesture he hoped was a silent enough request for affection and less painful topics.
Even Michael knew what that meant. He moved himself off Samandriel, laying beside him but not for long as he pulled the angel into his arms to offer comfort and a apology for bringing down the mood. He tenderly kissed his cheeks and forehead, nuzzling his temple in a way that would have left anyone who didn’t know how caring and compassionate Michael could really be rather surprised. “I’m sorry, but it’s better we get it all out in the open now. No more need to worry. I’m here with you now and I always plan to be.”
In this position though he could see across to the other side of the bed, where the alarm clock was. He let out a little half chuckle then turned his head to kiss the temple he had been rubbing with jaw. “Are you playing hookie for me?”
Samandriel laughed a little, a soft, genuine giggle with the pull of stubble and persistent, kitten-like affection against his face. No one could ever blame him for being possessive of and enraptured by this particular side of Michael. Selfishly, he hoped no one else ever saw it. “What can I say? I’d much rather have a more hands on approach to the unit on anatomy and physiology I’m supposed to be learning in AP Bio instead.” That and it was a little redundant when you knew exactly how things were meant to be put together to the point where you could take them apart completely and breathe life back into them again.
Even Michael had to chuckle at that. “I would think that you were more than familiar with at least male anatomy by now.” he had to kiss those full lips, the world had absolutely depended on it. “It’s actually pretty hard to imagine you in school,” he said honestly. Michael wasn’t the angel of imagination after all, he tended to think in more concrete terms, but the little angel who likely knew the secrets of the universe having to sit in class all day was just something he had a hard time picturing for the most part. “I mean in actual school. Not in the sort of porno set up with you in tiny shorts having to bend over the teacher’s desk while he spanks you with a ruler for being naughty. That one is a little easier to picture.”
“Lucifer has to look over my history papers every so often to make sure I’m not being too snarky,” the young angel said chasing after those lips with his own as soon as Michael finished talking. “See, I’d much rather be in an obscenely short plaid skirt and lace panties letting you live out all those filthy catholic school fantasies about boys in dresses you never wanted to acknowledge back then.” It was a common theme in some ways, and Samandriel didn’t mind at all hypersexualizing himself for Michael to ‘punish’ for not obeying dress code or something. Fuck. No that was a really good thought. “Can you imagine that?” he purred, “A little thing like me sent to Headmaster Michael’s office because there was nothing in the handbook that said he couldn’t wear the uniform the same way the girls did?”
Samandriel didn’t have to chase his lips after that image, Michael happily gave them to him when his own imagination started adding details. Mostly just the sounds of Samandriel begging and trying to squirm away even though he moaned with every smack. He found himself having to break the kiss and clear his throat before he was too side tracked by his imagination. Samandriel was good at that, making him want things he didn’t realize he had wanted then teasing him with it until they both got what they wanted. The little angel was incredibly devious and Michael was completely enamored with him and his mind. “For such a cherubic face, you have a really dirty mind, you know that?”
There was no way that he wasn’t going to whimper just a little in protest when Michael pulled away. He wanted those lips back on his own. “All the filthy things you could call me while you had me bent over like that? I’m pretty sure that yours is up to the task of keeping up,” he murmured. Samandriel shifted on top of Michael again, straddling him while he considered something very seriously. And then he smirked, rose his hand up and snapped his fingers, changing his too loose jeans, t-shirt, and hoodie combo from school into the exact uniform he was picturing in his mind. The lacy black boyshorts he thought were a particularly inspired touch. He was definitely looking forward to feeling Michael admiring his ass in those. Of course, a bra was completely out of the question. It’d just look silly, but there was a very nice leather corset under his blazer and tight button down just waiting to be discovered. And garters, of course, but he had to keep those stockings up somehow. “Maybe even dirtier than you’ll ever expect, sir,” he teased, smirking.