(no subject)

[archangel-mike.livejournal.com]

Date: December 29, 1999
Setting: First corridor, then Raphael's room
Status: Private -- Michael and Raphael (Complete)
Summary: Michael runs into a hungover Raphael.

Michael ran a hand through his hair, this time more in distress than his usual nervousness. Grasping a few blond locks, he then held on, slowly walking down the corridor with his hand still in his hair, deep in thought.

He couldn't sleep. Well, so he didn't really have to sleep, either, but now, when he really would have wanted to sleep just to escape it all, he found himself absolutely unable to. His mind simply couldn't go to rest right now. Therefore, he had ended up walking around the manor for the whole night, and now, it being morning, he was still on his way to nowhere particular.

Whatever he tried to force himself to think about, his mind always returned to the same topic. Raphael. Raphael, and his love for him, and his rejection, and how much it all hurt. His conversation with Uriel had done little to help; rather he felt even more confused than before. And, while he was badly hurt by the cold rejection, he still longed to at least see Raphael, to talk with him, to be close to him.

Oh, yeah. Like that'd ever happen; Raphael clearly hated him now. Well, an angel could always dream, right?

Suddenly, he froze as he saw a figure approaching him. At first, he didn't recognize the odd being. Surely he had never encountered somebody who looked like that. Something in the back of his mind told him that he should have recognized this stranger, that he did know him, in fact, but he determinedly ignored this feeling. After all, he only knew two redheads, and this couldn't be either of them, as one of them was female and the other would surely never wear something like that.

The other came a bit nearer, and suddenly realization dawned on Michael. His jaw hang open in shock and surprise as he could no longer deny that he knew this "stranger".

"Ra -- raphael?" he stammered disbelievingly. "Is that you?"

Comments

[archangel-mike.livejournal.com]

Michael felt his heart pounding in his chest and told it to stop. It did so. Instead of beating frantically, it now seemed to stand in attention, waiting to see what he did next, along with about every other part of him. Hesitating for a moment, he then gathered his courage and walked over to the bed.

He looked at Raphael, the shiny coppery hair, the now slightly pale face when the flush had left it, the delicate features, the faint, unsure smile, the greenish-blue eyes the like of which he had never seen on any other angel. He'd never seen anything as beautiful.

Finally he sat down on the edge of the bed. One of his hands moved almost as if on its own accord, wandering to Raphael's hair, marveling the silky feel. His eyes locked at Raphael's, he slowly leant forward, determination and hesitation fighting inside him while excitement watched with a bowl of popcorn.

Finally he tilted his head a bit, closed his eyes, and pressed his lips against Raphael's.

[winged-healer.livejournal.com]

Raphael watched as Michael leaned down. He felt the lips against his, felt his body react swiftly and insistantly.

He squeaked in surprise and squirmed.

"I was wrong..." He whispered. "About making an effort. So many sensations... So much like being human."

A blush spread across his cheeks.

"I wish we could be like them. Why do you have to fight, be a warrior, be violent? I can't stand violence, people getting hurt. But Uriel says its what you're here for. Am I to be punished for what I'm here for?

Humans can choose not to..."

He leaned upwards again, glad for the layers of crumpled sheets and the loose pajamas which hid his body's response.

Raphael didn't know how to make it vanish, nor even if he positively wanted it to.

[archangel-mike.livejournal.com]

Despite the mix of emotions inside him -- hope and love and fear and worry and need and everything -- Michael found a smile tugging at his lips. Apparently even a kiss couldn't completely take Raphael's thoughts away from such matters.

He was made a bit confused by the comment about himself, though. Was that why Raphael had found the mere thought of being close to him so repulsing at first? Michael himself didn't think he was being violent when he fought -- well, so the occasional punch and such, done in anger, could perhaps be called violence. However, his main duty, the reason he was called a warrior -- and not just any warrior, either, but the leader of the Heavenly Hosts -- was slaying demons who posed a threat to humans or fellow angels, (or just got on the way, but then again, most demons who saw him chose to either escape or attack, so a demon getting on his way was practically an invitation to fight). It was a natural part of him, fulfilling his duty, no more wrong or hard to accept than Raphael's healing. They were not two opposite things, just two sides of the same coin. Fighting, healing -- in the end, they both worked towards the same goal.

As Raphael leant up to come closer to him, Michael kissed him again, the hand that had previously been just caressing the coppery locks now sinking into them, enjoying the silky feeling. His heart stirred, unable to stay still anymore. Something further south stirred as well, and he tried to ignore it, desperately hoping Raphael wouldn't notice anything. If the lovely healer noticed, he'd most probably forget not standing violence and kick him to the next week.

[winged-healer.livejournal.com]

As Michael's fingers clutched at his hair, it suddenly occured to Raphael how very large the other angel was. Michael seemed to be made of nothing but muscle, and at the moment Raphael felt terribly small. Lithe and light, like a twig that could be broken.

The kiss broke off and he dropped to the pillow below.

He clutched the covers and resisted the urge to slide his hands beneath them.

"You should probably go," he said in a voice that nearly broke. He was in unknown territory and frightened of what might happen.

[archangel-mike.livejournal.com]

Michael's heart sank as Raphael pulled out of the kiss. However, he made no move to stop the other. Even if he had to wait another two millennia for the next kiss, it would be worth it. He most certainly knew that the first two thousand years had been compensated just nicely by just those two kisses.

The words, spoken with an almost breaking voice, touched him somewhere deep down. Raphael was afraid... afraid of him?

He wanted to tell Raphael that there was no reason to be afraid, that he would never, ever hurt him in any way, but something in the back of his mind told him that it would have been a bad idea indeed.

So, he just glanced at the healer, trying his best to put as much warmth and reassurance and comfort and love into that single gaze as he only could manage.

His hand brushed against Raphael's. "I'll go," was all he said. Then, he stood up, heading for the door of the room for the second time.

He still felt the kiss lingering on his lips.

[winged-healer.livejournal.com]

Raphael turned back on his side and squeezed his eyes shut, hoping the feeling would fade with one part of himself and wishing it would linger with another. He refused to touch himself, but he didn't know what else to do.

He forced himself to sleep and tried not to think about what the next morning would bring or be like.