Michael would've never done this before. Human lust is beneath him. This sin is beneath him. Or rather was beneath him, before he fell into the Cage, nearly went insane with the loss of the voice of the heavenly host and that connection to his Father at the back on his mind, and was brought out back to the world grace turned into flesh, mortal and weak.
But that was then, and this is now.
Now, Adam trails his fingers along the scars on Michael's body. Some old and ancient from wars aeons passed. Some from Lucifer in the Cage. Some even from Adam himself, once he started fighting back down there. Those fingers move all the way up to his face, skirting over the silk blindfold. Michael had been alarmed when Adam had made him wear it. He didn't mind his hands being bound, but the blindfold was a different matter. He was already lost without his grace, adjusting very badly to having only the five restrictive senses humans possessed. But Adam had insisted, voice going low and soothing with an authoritative undercurrent; like an order, as he tugged Michael's jeans off leaving the former archangel naked under him.
It had been ages since Michael had been ordered in any tone of voice. Not even Raphael who had an equal standing in Heaven had tried ordering him, once, even though he'd known Raphael would've liked too. (Even one for Michael to stop and rest and think selfishly once instead of blindly following a dead God.) Michael's been yearning to follow someone for so long, that all it took was that voice, and he'd settled in unconsciously, body going slack, as Adam tied silk around his eyes with deft fingers.
Those fingers go into his hair, rubbing a slow massage over his scalp. Michael moans, unable to help himself, arching a little into the touch. It's pleasant, comforting. He can hear a huff somewhere above him, and he's not sure but he thinks it sounds amused.
“You think too much.” Adam's breath is suddenly at his ear, and Michael would yelp and jump in a manner completely alien to his once regal angelic self, if Adam's hips weren't holding him in place. Adam's other hand is trailing over the scars on Michael's chest again, almost a light rake of blunt nails, adding to sensation. Michael thinks that Adam's smiling. He doesn't know how, but he can feel it.
“How many times have I told you not to think. Just feel Michael.” the words are punctuated with Adam flicking a nipple, and this time Michael does arch, hips connecting with Adam, against the rough fabric of Adam's jeans, and sending a surge of electricity up his spine.
“Fuck” Adam breathes out, grinding back down against Michael. And despite the roughness of the fabric against him Michael smiles, because he can imagine the face Adam is making right now. He likes the breathless quality Adam's voice has suddenly taken on.
Adam nips his ear for that, and couples it with pinching Michael's nipple, making Michael arch again. This time, Adam's prepared for it, because he presses down into Michael as Michael arches, pulling a moan out of Michael.
“Better,” Adam breathes out softly against Michael's ear, as he begins walking his fingers down Michael's skin, teasingly trailing right above his hips. Michael shivers at the cool breath on his ear, and tries to press up again, to feel more of Adam's hands, but Adam keeps his touch light and almost ticklish making wide arches over his abs, not giving Michael satisfaction.
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timeasmymeasure
"Feel" 1/3 Supernatural: Adam/Michael [bondage, sensory deprivation, fingers, some more stuff?]
Date: 2011-10-17 05:37 pm (UTC)But that was then, and this is now.
Now, Adam trails his fingers along the scars on Michael's body. Some old and ancient from wars aeons passed. Some from Lucifer in the Cage. Some even from Adam himself, once he started fighting back down there. Those fingers move all the way up to his face, skirting over the silk blindfold. Michael had been alarmed when Adam had made him wear it. He didn't mind his hands being bound, but the blindfold was a different matter. He was already lost without his grace, adjusting very badly to having only the five restrictive senses humans possessed. But Adam had insisted, voice going low and soothing with an authoritative undercurrent; like an order, as he tugged Michael's jeans off leaving the former archangel naked under him.
It had been ages since Michael had been ordered in any tone of voice. Not even Raphael who had an equal standing in Heaven had tried ordering him, once, even though he'd known Raphael would've liked too. (Even one for Michael to stop and rest and think selfishly once instead of blindly following a dead God.) Michael's been yearning to follow someone for so long, that all it took was that voice, and he'd settled in unconsciously, body going slack, as Adam tied silk around his eyes with deft fingers.
Those fingers go into his hair, rubbing a slow massage over his scalp. Michael moans, unable to help himself, arching a little into the touch. It's pleasant, comforting. He can hear a huff somewhere above him, and he's not sure but he thinks it sounds amused.
“You think too much.” Adam's breath is suddenly at his ear, and Michael would yelp and jump in a manner completely alien to his once regal angelic self, if Adam's hips weren't holding him in place. Adam's other hand is trailing over the scars on Michael's chest again, almost a light rake of blunt nails, adding to sensation. Michael thinks that Adam's smiling. He doesn't know how, but he can feel it.
“How many times have I told you not to think. Just feel Michael.” the words are punctuated with Adam flicking a nipple, and this time Michael does arch, hips connecting with Adam, against the rough fabric of Adam's jeans, and sending a surge of electricity up his spine.
“Fuck” Adam breathes out, grinding back down against Michael. And despite the roughness of the fabric against him Michael smiles, because he can imagine the face Adam is making right now. He likes the breathless quality Adam's voice has suddenly taken on.
Adam nips his ear for that, and couples it with pinching Michael's nipple, making Michael arch again. This time, Adam's prepared for it, because he presses down into Michael as Michael arches, pulling a moan out of Michael.
“Better,” Adam breathes out softly against Michael's ear, as he begins walking his fingers down Michael's skin, teasingly trailing right above his hips. Michael shivers at the cool breath on his ear, and tries to press up again, to feel more of Adam's hands, but Adam keeps his touch light and almost ticklish making wide arches over his abs, not giving Michael satisfaction.