Gabriel wrapped his arms under Abaddon’s to invite him that bit closer. He was curled all around his lover, not yet ready to become a vessel for this lust but eager to play with the idea of it and gradually open his body for him. Yet. as he kissed the underside of Abaddon’s jaw, thinking became impossible, and he turned into an animal with a single goal in mind. Every time his cock rubbed against Abaddon’s, sparks erupted in his balls, prompting him to go faster, harder.
Abaddon’s movements no longer resembled a wave. His back, arms, and thighs went stiff to support the drumming motion of his hips. A deep flush had been painted all over him with an invisible brush, and when he looked at Gabriel with eyes rich with desire, it became too much. Gabriel came with a low, desperate moan, shaking through the thrusts eased by their sweat and pre-cum.
The world seemed to shatter into small pieces, but he wasn’t afraid, because with Abaddon as the architect of his new reality, the future would be kind.
His lover’s thrusts kept getting faster, and with the steam now having left Gabriel’s balls, the friction got uncomfortable. He was about to say something when his lover lifted himself and grabbed his cock, tugging on it as his eyes wandered over Gabriel’s cum-stained flesh.
Gabriel offered him a hazy smile from under messy hair and spread his arms wide, inviting Abaddon to drizzle his essence all over him. Seconds later, hot cum painted streaks over his skin, some even landing on his neck and nipples.
Gabriel watched Abaddon’s fist squeeze out the last of the seed, but once he moved his gaze to the flushed face flooded by dark hair, and met eyes reflecting his desire back at him, breath got stuck in his throat. In this moment Gabriel had no doubt he’d give Abaddon everything.
When Abaddon kneeled above him, still panting, but with a smile growing on his lips, a spot of red drew Gabriel’s attention out of the fuzzy bliss. He glanced at Abaddon’s bleeding thigh and shame smacked him in the face.
“Oh, God… I’m so sorry, I forgot. Let me just get the disinfectant—”
But when he twisted away in an attempt to get up, Abaddon groaned and grabbed his arms, pinning him back down to the bed.
“It’s okay. Later,” he murmured in a deep voice that made Gabriel’s heart beat faster. “First, nap.”
And when Abaddon laid down on him, all sticky and spent, Gabriel was more than happy to oblige. If only he could find a way to keep Abaddon with him forever.
13
GABRIEL
Gabriel never particularly liked banana-flavored baked goods, but now that he’d started making them for Abaddon, their scent became one of the loveliest he knew. Each time he mashed the ripe fruit to use in cake felt like a loving gesture, and seeing his angel bite in with a grunt of pleasure was acknowledgement that gave him wings.
Each passing day brought them closer. But each also counted down to the end of Abaddon’s mission. Gabriel didn’t like to think about it, but it was a fact he couldn’t escape. At first, the idea of Abaddon leaving after he finished his mission had been a vague concept, but now that the conjunction marking the start of the unholy ritual was just a week away, Gabriel couldn’t imagine a life without his angel. He tried keeping busy to avoid pondering the future, but that was becoming more difficult with each passing day.
As the muffins in the oven became golden, he unknowingly gripped his own arms until his nails bit into skin. It wasn’t fair that after receiving a glimpse of what happiness could be, God would take it away from him. Couldn’t the Almighty wait? He had all eternity after all. Would the Lord miss his angel if Abaddon stayed on Earth for one human lifetime?
He opened the oven to grab the baking pan but regretted it the moment his finger touched its searing edge. That was where getting distracted in the kitchen got him.
Cursing, he grabbed a towel and used it to place the four banana muffins on the steel counter before cooling his burned finger under a stream of cold water.
Even the sweet, buttery scent hanging in the air couldn’t lift the gloom from his heart. He’d been so preoccupied with worry and angst lately that he’d ended up paying less attention to food and had lost weight, which at this rate was bound to prompt questions.
“You should really eat a bit more, honey.”
He spun around, for a moment certain that he’d said that out loud, but when he saw Mrs. Knight enter the kitchen in a simple gray dress, his anxiety eased. “W-what?”
“That T-shirt is a bit too loose on you,” she said, approaching the bread basket.
If Mrs. Knight wanted him to eat more, maybe he wouldn’t have to sneak the muffins out of the kitchen. He shrugged. “Maybe it stretched in the wash.”