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Raphael’s hand is warm is Gabriel’s, slightly damp even after he’s fluffed it over twice with a towel. They keep squeezing him without meaning to. They tense and bump their shoulder against his as flashes of discomfort cross their face when he rounds the file over their nail. Half of them are bitten — a bad habit Raphael’s picked up around Lucifer, who can’t keep his fingers out of his mouth to save his life.
“That hurt?” Gabriel asks. Raphael frowns. They’re sitting side by side, so Gabriel is close enough to see every tiny wrinkle in their brow and around their mouth. He’d smooth them out himself if he had a hand free to.
“Not exactly.” They squeeze his hand against as he continues to file.
“You get used to the feeling,” he says, “and if you stop biting them off-”
“I don’t do that,” Raphael lies, quite obviously when the evidence is in the palm of Gabriel’s hand. It makes him grin.
“-then the nail beds will be less sensitive.” He taps his fingers along the nails he’s already taken care of. Raphael has pretty nails. Gabriel’s a little jealous. They’re such a nice shade, the same orange-pink as their palm that darkened down the knuckle until it flowed into the warm brown of their vessel’s skin. Gabriel picked out a silver-blue polish for them, and he hopes it looks as pretty as he’s picturing it.
Raphael settles a little more as Gabriel works around their thumb, rounding their nail into a nice even shape to fit with the rest of them. “Look,” he says, and he laces his fingers between theirs as he lifts their hand for them to admire. Raphael blinks, and when they smile, Gabriel’s heart aches from how much he’s missed seeing it. He brings their knuckles to his lips and leaves a kiss against them.
The hand lotion smells like lemongrass as Gabriel squeezes it into his palm. He works it over Raphael’s hand thoroughly. He massages it down between each finger and up the curve of their thumb. It leaves their nails shiny and wet as it smears over them, and the rest of their skin soft and smooth. Gabriel takes longer than he has to rubbing it in for the excuse to touch them, feeling them lean their head against his shoulder and yawn as they relax. All according to plan, he tells himself, even and definitely down to the heat rising in his cheeks as they snuggle closer.
He turns their hand over, working his thumb against their palm. Raphael exhales slowly.
“You want to match?” Gabriel finds himself saying. That hadn’t been the plan, but once it’s in the air, he can’t stop himself from continuing. “There’s enough polish for both of us.”
“I’d love that,” Raphael says. They turn their head and bump their nose against his neck affectionately before leaving a kiss there. “I missed you.” Gabriel leans into them.
“I know,” he says. “That’s why I offered.”