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As humans.
Sated, Michael splayed out on top of Gabriel, his limbs like jelly, his entire body happy. And too heavy for his wobbly post-orgasmic arms to hold up. Probably too heavy for Gabriel too. He shifted to his side, taking Gabriel with him, one arm over his waist, a leg still thrown over his hip. Gabriel’s spent cock slipped out of his ass, and Michael wasn’t the least bit embarrassed by his needy little mewl.
Chuckling, Gabriel combed his fingers through his hair, something they both enjoyed almost as much as sex. “I’ll give it to you again, I promise.”
Michael snuggled closer, ear pressed to Gabriel’s chest, listening to the strong, steady beat of his heart. “If it’s not cold and rainy on Solstice, I want to spend all day here, just fucking you in the sun.”
“Why Solstice?”
“Shortest day of the year. Human recovery time is a bitch.”
Gabriel laughed. “Says the twenty-something-year-old with stamina for days. Me, on the other hand...”
“Taking you apart is the best turn-on.” He propped himself on an elbow, looking down at the sexy man he was lucky enough to spend his mortal forever with. “So I’ll just pin you down and rail you into the ground until you recover.”
Gabriel groaned, and his dick gave an interested jerk where it lay pressed against Michael’s thigh. “You’re incorrigible, and I wouldn’t bet on a lazy Solstice. We may not be magical anymore, but the world still is, especially on that day, and you are one of the best medics we have.”
“Buzzkill,” he pouted. Gabriel laughed out loud, a sound Michael would never tire of, and he laid his head against his chest again to get the full effect, smiling even as he mentally acknowledged the truth of what Gabriel had said. Yes, Vincent was dead, but the war was far from over. As Mary had said, Vincent was just a human trying to be a giant. There were real giants—and worse—and hell, their side was still just trying to sort the good from the bad.
Like a certain warlock. “Any word from Robin?”
“Still hunting.”
According to Cormac, as soon as he’d landed back with their souls at the tunnel, the green dome had disappeared, Atlas with it. Robin had waited long enough for everyone to get settled back at Monte Corvo, long enough to question an uncooperative Mary, then left, searching far and wide for the enigmatic warlock. Mary had remained tight-lipped, not bending to Cormac’s or Adam’s interrogations, insisting that they trust her and that Atlas was not their problem any longer, that Robin would get his revenge when his time came.
In any event, they’d had other more pressing, more present problems to deal with in the past two weeks. Skirmishes had erupted as others sought to fill the void Vincent left behind, and with the anniversary of the Rift four days ago, they’d remained busy. Adam—the Devil—had been needed to fight on the side of Nature, a position staked for the coming war that continued to bubble.
Gabriel gave his ass a gentle squeeze, bringing him back to the here and now. “Do you have a stream today?”
He lifted his chin, glancing up. “Tonight. Multiparty.” Business was still good for Icarus—he’d kept the name professionally, same as Adam—though that whole being-human thing meant he had limited repeat performances, making multiparty streams more valuable than ever. His toys were more valuable too, even a few resurrected ones. “I’m thinking about the silver cock cage you bought me and that vibrating plug you love so much.”
Gabriel growled and hauled him up his body. “Then I am definitely going to watch.”
If they even made it that long, their stiffening cocks aligning. “I don’t think we have an issue with recovery time. Yet.” Grinning, he grasped them together and stroked.
Gabriel captured his mouth in a searing kiss, their tongues and moans tangling, greedy—always—for each other. Lost in each other. So much so that neither of them heard the intruder until he was nearly on them, branches cracking under hasty, approaching footsteps. They moved on instinct, Adam rolling onto his belly under Icarus, reaching out a hand for his pistol that was never far away, and Icarus springing to a crouch in front of him, his body mass still greater and his reflexes still faster than the average human.
“Adam!” A familiar voice, an unfamiliar alarm. “Icarus!”
“Stand down,” Adam said, recognizing it too. They scurried up, grabbing whatever they could for cover, before Cormac shoved through the last of the trees surrounding the meadow.
They hadn’t needed to worry about clothes. Cormac was naked too, running to them directly from a shift. He didn’t make a quip and didn’t even bother to take in their state of undress, as far as Icarus could tell. He was too caught up in whatever tragedy had left his dark hair ragged, his tan skin pale, and his violet eyes bright with fear.
Adam rushed to his side. “Mac, what’s wrong?”
Icarus recognized something else besides fear in the raven’s eyes. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t realized it until that moment. Fear—andlove—cracked Cormac’s voice as he sank to his knees and buried his face in his hands. “Paris is gone.”
