“And if you’re asking whether I like the look of you and want you as my lover, the answer is also yes.”
Gabriel held his breath for so long his brain started throbbing with heat. “I just… want to understand if it’s because God is forcing you to like me. I don’t want you to do things against yourself just to please me. I’ve had a shitty life, but I don’t want to be loved out of pity.”
Did he just say love? Why did he have to go there? They’d barely met. Best not draw attention to the word by trying to take it back.
Anxiety was overtaking his body until his heart beat as if he were facing off against a grown tiger, not walking in the company of a man who’d killed two of his past tormentors, but he couldn’t help it. What if the assumptions of a recent virgin with no free access to media, which he’d so carelessly voiced, would push the angel away from him?
When Abaddon spoke, his voice was smooth as a Formula One track. “Nobody’s forcing me into anything, lamb. Your face and body make my cock hard.”
Gabriel, who was about to take everything back and claim he mispronounced something else, stalled with his mouth open. “Y—your what?”
Abaddon grinned, and when he blinked, the eyes tattooed on his lids watched Gabriel with glee. “I know you thought angels were smooth as Ken dolls, but as you’ve already seen, we have all the equipment people have, and there’s no reason to pretend it doesn’t work the same either.”
“That’s… I’m excited to hear that. You’re so handsome I’m a little overwhelmed. People don’t usually pay much attention to me, let alone men like you. Father John didn’t exactly encourage me exploring the world outside of St. John’s. He told me that with my looks and the scars… I should keep my expectations low.” He squeezed Abaddon’s hand tighter, desperate to communicate how much he didn’t want to let go.
Abaddon’s mouth pressed shut, and he hummed, keeping his eyes closed. It sounded like four words, but Gabriel didn’t get to ask what they were when the angel looked at him. “I’ve seen your body naked. There’s nothing wrong with it. Besides, everyone has the right to have standards.”
“Right. And how dare he tell me how to live my life when it turns out he’s some cult leader psycho?” Gabriel couldn’t hold back a smile. Abaddon had seen all of him, and still touched him so eagerly. It contradicted all Gabriel believed in and cut into the ugly exterior of his self-deprecation like a steak knife.
Maybe he wasn’t ugly? Or plain? Maybe Mrs. Knight had been right when she said that the right person would not care about his scars, and that anyone who did was an asshole not worthy of his time?
Was Abaddon that ‘right person’? The heat of his palm certainly felt right as they walked together, breathing in the fresh air.
“He’s delusional. Don’t listen to a word he says,” Abaddon said as they neared the narrow road. It was almost completely dark at this point, but while there was very little traffic, they could hear the buzz of a motor in the distance.
“If they perform this crazy ritual once every ten years, then what do they do in the meanwhile? Did God tell you? Do they meet up once a month like it’s some hobby to plan murders?” Gabriel had so many questions that it was hard for him not to voice them all at once. For the first time, someone wanted to listen to him.
Abaddon sighed as they reached the roadside and proceeded walking toward the only town Gabriel ever visited, the one closest to the orphanage. “They prepare for the next one. For most of them it probably means lying low,” he said, but when the rumble of a large vehicle came closer, Abaddon turned just in time for the headlights to illuminate his face. Squinting, he put a flat hand to his brow, as if he were protecting himself from the sun, then waved and pointed a finger toward the town.
Gabriel looked over his shoulder, freezing at the sight of a behemoth of a vehicle staring at them with massive eyes.
A bus.
“Are we taking it into town?” he asked, now glad that Abaddon had taken Rogers’ wallet, because he didn’t have any money on him. The fifty dollars he’d saved up was squirreled away in his room.
He let go of Abaddon’s hand, intimidated by the vehicle that came to a halt right next to them. The front door opened, revealing a middle-aged lady in the driver’s seat. “Did your car break down?” she asked from behind large, colorful glasses.
Abaddon pulled on Gabriel’s shoulder and pushed him up the stairs before climbing in himself, cheerful as if his eternal future weren’t dependent on fulfilling his task on Earth. “Oh, no. We had a minor disagreement with friends and they decided to leave us on the side of the road.”