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he’s propped up against a wall with his knees up, arms trembling. he’s weak, chest heaving, so weightless without the confines of his armor. like shedding new skin, he was exposed and reborn in their gentle hands. only his skirt and belt remain as his main defense for his modesty. they rub at gabriel’s hips kindly, smooth and cold metal sparking against his oh, so hot skin, small praises are whispered in one ear and trills of satisfaction in the other. a blue hand brushes past his collarbone to meet another red one, both cupping his pecs then trailing down in synchronization.
v2, clever as it is, grabs at gabriel’s knee, and parts his legs gently, rubbing circles at the side.
“you’re doing fine,” it murmured, in harmony with gabriel’s hushed whimpering. “just like that, see? is that okay?” gabriel nods despite himself.
v1 traces gilded lines on his stomach with their thumb, their perfect thumb. his muscles fluttered under their contact, shoulders tensing up to escape how absolutely good it felt to be loved. he hoped it wasn’t too late to convert to whatever kind of worship this was.
“c’mere, look.” v2 jerks its head to v1, who was using another hand - the knuckleblaster, specifically, to grab at the chin of gabriel’s helmet, still using its right arm to caress his stomach. they kiss, stupidly thunking their heads together. v2’s wings twitched seeing its own arm used to smooth over the angel’s body, like an extension of itself. if it could smile, or smirk, it would.
now for how they all ended up like this?
not important.
what was important was the way gabriel flinched at their fingers finding somewhere new to rest, but relaxing at their gentle reassurance. gabriel’s obviously never been held with this kind of care, his body knowing nothing but pain. pain from the council, the gnawing of teeth, whitehot blades and shrapnel casting on his skin, his own cruel judgment upon himself. and it was beautiful how easy it was to get him to open up, to see him at his most vulnerable. each scar on his body accessible to the both of them drawn over and loved.
it was also important to see v2 enjoying itself. after… much needed resolving, they were finally at peace with each other. how focused it was at its task, efficient; just as programmed. they loved the way it scanned around for everything v1 hadn’t gotten already, to make its own mark on their shared beloved. greedy little thing.
v1 stopped their kissing at gabriel’s helmet, only to bump their face against v2’s, drawing out a breathless laugh from gabriel. they both could hear the smile crawling onto his face from his voice alone, at how absurd and yet kind their motions are amongst each other. it’s not like they could do much else, lacking a real face.
they make do.
gabriel can’t understand this, though. while it felt… so, so nice, to be held, he doesn’t understand why. why would they ever be so gentle to someone not made to be loved. bastardized and as ruined as he?
designed for bloodshed and utter destruction, v1’s ministrations and chirps were soft. so usually brazen and self-confident was v2, and yet it stepped itself down to kneel next to him and ‘whisper’ words sweeter than the ambrosia and fruits of heaven’s eden. both made to listen to the thrumming and rushing of his perfect blood rush through his veins, circulating his body, and even then they don’t so much as scratch him. the only thing that comes close is sharp talons just barely raking his skin, making him shudder while gasping for air.
truth be told, it was a bit too much for him.
the feeling of being payed mind washed over his familiarity with the feeling of being scrutinized, hands that would hurt him and lash and flog now replaced by many that were only there to soothe. the same hands that saved him, saved him and showed him that he was gabriel, that he was not just a tool or an extension of a power. his sword was his to wield alone, even if it meant slaughtering the council and forever scarring the masses and dealingwiththecrushingcripplingguiltofwhathesubjectedhisownpeopoetoahdjoghgodokayOkay Okay okay, he’s back. his breathing evens out after it quickened suddenly, feeling the familiar sting of tears to come pricking at his eyes and nose. he squeezes his eyes shut, and now he’s back.
He was safe here. He’d be okay.
he notices now that the two of them were looking at each other. his saviors, the machines he held with such veneration. they contemplated something, eyes flickering. silent nods, hushed conversation.
instinctively, he tries to rise, embarrassed. did he do something wrong? anxiety grips at his throat like a vice, after already trying to calm down, returning for a second try at his heart.
“did i—? i’m sorry, i—,” he’s shut down instantly, v1 shaking its head and v2 rubbing circles on his chest to placate him.
“hey, no no no, you’re good. just… just how far are you willing to take this, gabe?” aside for nickname, he melted at v2’s words. if he really focused, it bordered on unnatural — uncanny, even, but now it was smooth and gentle, holding him in its radiance. the question just barely registered with how he lost himself in its warmth.
“wh— oh, oh. um, i—…??” he flustered, curling in on himself. “i— w-well, i don’t exactly know? i’m not sure.”
v1 cupped his face. they looked at each other, their head tilting and their hands tilting his. when they realized they’d just been staring at him for a bit of uncomfortable silence, their eye flitted to v2.
“no pressure,” it clarifies for them.
and then it continues, “we wanted to… well, they wanted to try something. if that’s okay with you.” he could see v1 nodding fervently. for something that could say not even a word, they were so easy to communicate with. their language in their motions, expressive, almost unbearably human. how… endearing.
haha.
“i— i sup- i suppose…? i’m.”
“if at any point you say no, we’re stopping.” v1 once again nods, scooting a bit closer. they give an appreciative drone to their mirror. its wings flicked again, giving a small nod like it didn’t matter much. he could tell it loves them, loves their praise. how… adorable.
“would it help if i told you exactly what’s going on?”
“uh— i, sure.” he can’t bother to be eloquent right now, just with how his mind is already racing and soaring. something pools at his stomach, but he’s not sure what.
“‘sure’ doesn’t sound like an affirmative, respectfully speaking.” v2 lowered its upper lid, serious. “we need to know if you’re really okay with this. you don’t have to, gabriel, we promise. just let us know.”
a beat passes.
is he okay with this?
“sorry, i’m. yes. yes, go— go ahead.”
almost instantly after they were given the go-ahead, the two of them shifted positions to get so much closer. things were going objectively slow, but it seemed like there was a quiet new objective shared between the two that made him feel uneasy. not that he wasn’t safe, just that he didn’t know their intentions. it was… almost enjoyable. almost.
“v1’s taking off your belt now,” v2 murmurs, using its own hands to assist. the clinking of metal alerts him to the item being discarded from him. “fine?”
he nods.
“use your words.”
“y-yes, please—“
that’s enough. v2 hikes his skirt up, slowly and without breaking eye contact (or what can be assumed to be eye contact?).
“your skirt, too. that’s it. good job, angel.”
three other hands rub small reassuring circles into his skin. his chest and his waist. trailing down further onto his hip.
then to the lower part of his stomach.
his breath hitches, to which v1’s hand travels back up again. too fast. v2 offers more sweet words.
that pooling sensation is back, wrenching his heart and making it beat. he tears his eyes away from v2, and rather pastes his gaze onto v1’s hand. deft little hand, searching him. running soft, cold metal against supple skin. his breathing couldn’t help but quicken as they moved lower, lower. he’s trembling, maybe out of anticipation? he can’t seem to focus on anything else but v1’s hand.
it was just going, and for some reason he just wasn’t there anymore.
v2’s voice faded away completely over the sounds of his own breath.
how many people had done this exact same thing before him? and how many of them had been sent straight to lust? moreover, how many died after getting their security torn from them, watching their once beloved ruler destroy everything in his wake? for something as simple as just a hand on his thigh?
a hand that made him want things he would never even be allowed to think of. a spear of emotion gutted him like a fish, tearing his stomach open and throat tightening. it was not pooling, it was coiling, and rising up to his face.
he shouldn’t be allowed to have this, even. regardless of what he did to lust, he just— he just—
(“one. one— v1, cut it out. hold on.”)
he feels so light, in a way that made him want to fall over and rot. this was disgusting. sinful. he couldn’t bare this, he didn’t even deserve this. someone like him couldn’t ever possibly dream of deserving something as sweet as their ‘love’, synthetic or as impersonal as it could be.
and moreover, what would the council think of this? long dead but still shadowing his every move. their faces, or rather lack of them, only reflected their indifference for him. and if he squinted, he could maybe even see scorn in the cold glinting metal.
“idolatry.”
(“gabe?”)
“fleshliness.”
“heresy.”
(“gabriel.”)
“heresy.”
“gabriel.”
all he can see is that hand.
their blue hand, on his body. he doesn’t hate the feeling, but he can’t help but shudder.
or rather, he can’t really see. something blurs his vision.
“one, he’s crying.”
their wings flicker, worried trilling and glances exchanged. he can hear his silent sobs escaping his clenched teeth, grimacing. he can barely breathe, it’s like he just learned how to. that hand was still on him, but frozen just before it could go anywhere… debasing.
that hand would surely damn him forever, send him past a point he could never return from.
and yet he wants it.
how selfish.
how depraved.
and then their hand leaves, trailing up to meet his face. now that it was gone, he could afford to see again. like a broken dam, more tears and sobs escape him. it felt nice, it felt so nice, but he blew it. fuck.
“i’m ss— i’m sorry, i can’t. i can’t,” his voice is brittle and pleading. “i want to, i can’t. it’s wrong. this is wrong.”
heads are pressed against his, holding him close and other hands tracing his form with terrifying affection.
“you’re okay, it’s alright. you did good.”
“i’m ss-sorry.”
“nothing to say sorry over.”
they let him dress again, or at least put on the lower half. gabriel leans into v1’s chestplate, then sinks down to their thighs and rests there. his breaths are shallow at first, then even out. curled up, warm, and loved.
v1 rubs all of their hands into his muscles, consoling the flesh and absolving the sin. they looked… hesitant.
was it their fault? they should have stopped sooner.
“it’s not,” v2 reassures. “it was gonna be his first, he got scared. it’s common for humans to have that sort of experience, though his case was… exceptionally worse, all things considered.”
v2 wraps its arms around one of v1’s, leaning its head on their shoulder. “i feel so terrible. he’s so beautiful.”
they could finally agree on something, it would seem.
with one of their hands, v1 grabs gabriel’s gently, tracing smooth circles onto his knuckles and dorsal. in a soft but sudden movement, they could feel his hand hold onto theirs more firmly in his sleep, like he feared they’d let go.
they weren’t planning on it.