It’s what you get for sitting on part-time hunters trying to catch their beauty sleep, he almost says, but his throat is dry, the adrenaline’s fading fast, and he’s even more tired than before.
“Sorry.” He yawns and turns onto his back, already reaching for the archangel.
Michael settles along his side and Adam tucks in against his shoulder with a sigh of relief he’s been holding back all day. He feels light-headed at the scents on Michael’s clothes of clouds, ozone, and the sharp cold of winds at terminal velocity. Adam slides a hand under his shirt to feel the warm, familiar lines of the muscles along his waist and stomach. Is it his imagination, or does Michael feel thinner than before?
On the pillow of Michael’s arm, Adam looks up into his face and he’s surprised that Michael’s expression has turned as weary as Adam feels.
“How was work?” Adam hazards to ask and Michael almost rolls his eyes. It makes him smile.
“Heaven is glorious.”
“That much fun, huh?”
“Are you ready for tomorrow?”
It’s Adam’s turn to roll his eyes. He’s had enough of studying. Come hell or high water, it will be over in twenty-four hours; he’s done everything he can. He tries to remind himself that he survived two apocalypses, but if he wasn’t so exhausted, his gut would still be churning.
He huffs out a breath and rolls onto his back, letting his eyes slide shut.
“I’m glad you’re here,” Adam says, pulling Michael’s arm across his waist. Just a few years ago Michael would have been the last person Adam sought for any comfort, but today is now, he hasn’t seen Michael in a week and it’s the best surprise.
Michael’s fingers curl against his side and Adam smiles at the kiss that nuzzles into his hair, then brushes his temple; the archangel’s wordless relief of Me, too. Adam turns his face up and catches Michael’s mouth, his entire body humming warm with pleasure because Michael is here, sprawled along Adam’s couch, and if Adam feels deliriously happy it’s not just that he’s faint with hunger. He doesn’t need anything else but this.
This and the brown paper bag that Michael suddenly lofts by his ear, wafting flavours that make Adam’s mouth water.
“I brought dinner. It’s closer to a midnight snack, but… here.”
“I already love you, you don’t have to buy me with dinner,” Adam jokes, but grabs the bag anyway, and Michael laughs as they sit up. The archangel wraps his arms around Adam’s waist from behind, propping his chin on Adam’s shoulder, and Adam attacks the burger with a groan of relish.
“I know,” Michael says, and Adam loves the sound of the smile in his voice.
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2011-08-21 11:31 am (UTC)“Sorry.” He yawns and turns onto his back, already reaching for the archangel.
Michael settles along his side and Adam tucks in against his shoulder with a sigh of relief he’s been holding back all day. He feels light-headed at the scents on Michael’s clothes of clouds, ozone, and the sharp cold of winds at terminal velocity. Adam slides a hand under his shirt to feel the warm, familiar lines of the muscles along his waist and stomach. Is it his imagination, or does Michael feel thinner than before?
On the pillow of Michael’s arm, Adam looks up into his face and he’s surprised that Michael’s expression has turned as weary as Adam feels.
“How was work?” Adam hazards to ask and Michael almost rolls his eyes. It makes him smile.
“Heaven is glorious.”
“That much fun, huh?”
“Are you ready for tomorrow?”
It’s Adam’s turn to roll his eyes. He’s had enough of studying. Come hell or high water, it will be over in twenty-four hours; he’s done everything he can. He tries to remind himself that he survived two apocalypses, but if he wasn’t so exhausted, his gut would still be churning.
He huffs out a breath and rolls onto his back, letting his eyes slide shut.
“I’m glad you’re here,” Adam says, pulling Michael’s arm across his waist. Just a few years ago Michael would have been the last person Adam sought for any comfort, but today is now, he hasn’t seen Michael in a week and it’s the best surprise.
Michael’s fingers curl against his side and Adam smiles at the kiss that nuzzles into his hair, then brushes his temple; the archangel’s wordless relief of Me, too. Adam turns his face up and catches Michael’s mouth, his entire body humming warm with pleasure because Michael is here, sprawled along Adam’s couch, and if Adam feels deliriously happy it’s not just that he’s faint with hunger. He doesn’t need anything else but this.
This and the brown paper bag that Michael suddenly lofts by his ear, wafting flavours that make Adam’s mouth water.
“I brought dinner. It’s closer to a midnight snack, but… here.”
“I already love you, you don’t have to buy me with dinner,” Adam jokes, but grabs the bag anyway, and Michael laughs as they sit up. The archangel wraps his arms around Adam’s waist from behind, propping his chin on Adam’s shoulder, and Adam attacks the burger with a groan of relish.
“I know,” Michael says, and Adam loves the sound of the smile in his voice.