Michael bit his lip. Every word was like a stab straight at his heart. The disgust and disbelief mixed together were wound into something that hit him right at his weakest spots, knowing each and every one. From anybody else he could have taken it. But not from Raphael, not his Raphael, the sweet and pure creature he adored and loved so much.
Oh, he had considered it -- or, rather, dreamt of it, knowing that he could never get the only one he would even consider sleeping with. Sure, he had his own little fantasies, private little games of mind, but those were never going to happen. Especially now, and even more so if Raphael actually made the connection between the two ornament angels and the two of them.
Why did he feel the need to? Because he ached, because he was so full of love and desire and frustration that he couldn't take it anymore. Because Raphael's mere existence, every gentle smile, every word by the sweet voice, everything about the red-haired angel just made Michael want him ever more.
And then, Raphael finally realized it.
Michael bit his lip. This was not going to be easy, but it had to be done. He had to say it, since Raphael was going to hate him anyway, but he couldn't live with himself if he hadn't actually managed to summon the courage to say it aloud. He had made Lucifer Fall from the Heaven, hadn't he? Surely he could handle this. Surely he could once again face the straightforwardness of those eyes, so innocent and open...
"I love you, Raphael," he whispered, knowing that the other angel would hear his words. "I love you so much more than I love anybody else. I want you, I need you, and I feel so bad about it that it's killing me from the inside." He finally turned his eyes at his fellow archangel, tears now freely streaming down his cheeks. "Come on, say it. Just say that you hate me, despise me, whatever. Tell me just how disgusting I am! Hit me, if it makes you feel any better!" A sob bursted out of his chest as he was unable to stop it, the emotions becoming too much for him to handle all at once.
"Yes, I am Michael. I am the Warrior Prince of Heaven. I lead the Host, I am the one who once slew Lucifer himself. But I'm no better than any of the others. I am just as vulnerable as any other angel. You are still innocent. Remember that, cherish that, and have that as your last comfort when you notice that nobody's perfect, nobody but Him."
"I just happened to fall in love with you," he finally said, his voice now below any whisper. "Is it truly that wrong to love?" And, raising his eyes, now full of tears, to look at the other celestial being, he waited for the words that would most probably be either the damnation or the salvation of his badly aching heart.
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Oh, he had considered it -- or, rather, dreamt of it, knowing that he could never get the only one he would even consider sleeping with. Sure, he had his own little fantasies, private little games of mind, but those were never going to happen. Especially now, and even more so if Raphael actually made the connection between the two ornament angels and the two of them.
Why did he feel the need to? Because he ached, because he was so full of love and desire and frustration that he couldn't take it anymore. Because Raphael's mere existence, every gentle smile, every word by the sweet voice, everything about the red-haired angel just made Michael want him ever more.
And then, Raphael finally realized it.
Michael bit his lip. This was not going to be easy, but it had to be done. He had to say it, since Raphael was going to hate him anyway, but he couldn't live with himself if he hadn't actually managed to summon the courage to say it aloud. He had made Lucifer Fall from the Heaven, hadn't he? Surely he could handle this. Surely he could once again face the straightforwardness of those eyes, so innocent and open...
"I love you, Raphael," he whispered, knowing that the other angel would hear his words. "I love you so much more than I love anybody else. I want you, I need you, and I feel so bad about it that it's killing me from the inside." He finally turned his eyes at his fellow archangel, tears now freely streaming down his cheeks. "Come on, say it. Just say that you hate me, despise me, whatever. Tell me just how disgusting I am! Hit me, if it makes you feel any better!" A sob bursted out of his chest as he was unable to stop it, the emotions becoming too much for him to handle all at once.
"Yes, I am Michael. I am the Warrior Prince of Heaven. I lead the Host, I am the one who once slew Lucifer himself. But I'm no better than any of the others. I am just as vulnerable as any other angel. You are still innocent. Remember that, cherish that, and have that as your last comfort when you notice that nobody's perfect, nobody but Him."
"I just happened to fall in love with you," he finally said, his voice now below any whisper. "Is it truly that wrong to love?" And, raising his eyes, now full of tears, to look at the other celestial being, he waited for the words that would most probably be either the damnation or the salvation of his badly aching heart.