[Getting them looking anywhere decent is going to take a long time, Greg is right about that. But getting the worst of the dirt and debris out of them has done no end of good. Especially to Gabriel's mindset. Greg seems to have started a ball rolling here, because his hopefulness is certainly contagious. Maybe if Gabriel himself was a bit more pro-active, maybe if he bothered to spend as much time looking after his wings as he should, then they'd continue to get better? Maybe they'd even look as good as they did when he got down here? It's possible, after all.
Besides, the more time he spends in Little Eden with Greg, the less time he's in the stifling heat of town, and he's pretty sure the heat and dryness of the air has what made his wings start to burn in the first place. And if Greg's going to look after them too, well... Gabriel really won't mind that at all.
Honestly, Greg is an angel. Gabriel would regret his "dead human with wings" comment if he knew how much Greg had taken it on board. He's just as deserving, possibly more deserving of the title than Gabriel is, at least if you take what they're doing presently into the equation. Greg is actively doing all those things humans believe angels do- protecting and safeguarding, loving and performing little miracles. Gabriel? He's eating candy and playing with dogs.
All that aside, Gabriel wants Greg to do this, he likes it when those gorgeous wings curl around him; he likes feeling safe and close to Greg, able to feel his breath across his skin. It's... it's good. There are better words, but Gabriel can't think of their English equivalents at that moment. He's too happy to have to think of words.
As Greg speaks, Gabriel finds himself smiling again, eyes closing.] That sounds pretty good. Pub and rugby, not the laundry. That sounds boring.
[Rugby. Gabriel liked rugby. No doubt it was the mix of well-built men in shorts and violence that appealed to him, but there wasn't anything quite like that in Hell. The nearest sport was more like American Football. But maybe they could get good enough reception in Little Eden to catch a game. He'd have to find out when Greg was out, and maybe that would be a nice surprise at some point.]
Got to tell you, I'm sort of glad no one is ringing you at all hours. That would cut into the time you're mine. They can have you for pre-agreed shifts only.
[And that's when Gabriel shifts to kiss the nearest bit of Greg his hand, which happens to be the edge of his jaw.]
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Besides, the more time he spends in Little Eden with Greg, the less time he's in the stifling heat of town, and he's pretty sure the heat and dryness of the air has what made his wings start to burn in the first place. And if Greg's going to look after them too, well... Gabriel really won't mind that at all.
Honestly, Greg is an angel. Gabriel would regret his "dead human with wings" comment if he knew how much Greg had taken it on board. He's just as deserving, possibly more deserving of the title than Gabriel is, at least if you take what they're doing presently into the equation. Greg is actively doing all those things humans believe angels do- protecting and safeguarding, loving and performing little miracles. Gabriel? He's eating candy and playing with dogs.
All that aside, Gabriel wants Greg to do this, he likes it when those gorgeous wings curl around him; he likes feeling safe and close to Greg, able to feel his breath across his skin. It's... it's good. There are better words, but Gabriel can't think of their English equivalents at that moment. He's too happy to have to think of words.
As Greg speaks, Gabriel finds himself smiling again, eyes closing.] That sounds pretty good. Pub and rugby, not the laundry. That sounds boring.
[Rugby. Gabriel liked rugby. No doubt it was the mix of well-built men in shorts and violence that appealed to him, but there wasn't anything quite like that in Hell. The nearest sport was more like American Football. But maybe they could get good enough reception in Little Eden to catch a game. He'd have to find out when Greg was out, and maybe that would be a nice surprise at some point.]
Got to tell you, I'm sort of glad no one is ringing you at all hours. That would cut into the time you're mine. They can have you for pre-agreed shifts only.
[And that's when Gabriel shifts to kiss the nearest bit of Greg his hand, which happens to be the edge of his jaw.]