Gabriel (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
jermastrat) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
datadiving2025-06-20 11:36 am
jermastrat) wrote in datadiving2025-06-20 11:36 am
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Draped across the bed, bored out of his mind. Not the kind of situation Gabriel ever imagined he'd be in, at any point in his life, ever, but he could add that to the pile of new experiences he supposed. Yeah sure not all of them could be absolute bangers, life wasn't always going to be interesting, that much he'd learned long before everything fell apart but it felt almost insulting to be in another world, another time, and still be fucking bored. An old saying he'd heard a soul pass on to him once before rattled through his brain: boring people are bored, and he scowled at the memory, petulantly kicking a pillow off the bed.
Maybe he could go call on Cassiel. They could spar, or hunt, or talk, or fuck, or anything else, he didn't know. Anything was better than laying here doing fuck all.
The conspicuous lack of the Machine was as ever, not a concern either. Where was it? Well, outside somewhere of course, doing whatever. At this point he'd grown quite comfortable with its presence and conversely, lack of. Whatever trouble it could get itself into was at this point no longer his concern. ... A pleasant enough idea to hold onto at least. It did nothing for the boredom, other than alleviate some of the annoyance swirling around his head thanks to it.
... He really had to find some way to fill his day before he started taking this growing, foul mood out on someone who didn't deserve it, he hates this.
Maybe he could go call on Cassiel. They could spar, or hunt, or talk, or fuck, or anything else, he didn't know. Anything was better than laying here doing fuck all.
The conspicuous lack of the Machine was as ever, not a concern either. Where was it? Well, outside somewhere of course, doing whatever. At this point he'd grown quite comfortable with its presence and conversely, lack of. Whatever trouble it could get itself into was at this point no longer his concern. ... A pleasant enough idea to hold onto at least. It did nothing for the boredom, other than alleviate some of the annoyance swirling around his head thanks to it.
... He really had to find some way to fill his day before he started taking this growing, foul mood out on someone who didn't deserve it, he hates this.
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Of course, Gabriel would reiterate things it already knew, it was Gabriel. Saying obvious shit for the sake of 'communication' came standard with sharing close quarters with him, this was normal.
Just like it was normal to see him puff up a little as V1 crossed over the line- not line... gap in the line. That he made... Whatever he was about to say went clearly nowhere, the breath he took just leaving him, reminiscent of the air rushing suddenly out of a balloon. Alright, no that's fair isn't it? Between the two of them, only one had ever really bothered to honor the existence of the line, and it wasn't the angel currently picking himself up off the floor.
With a vague air of grumpiness, Gabriel pulled the belt free, hooking his thumb into the waistline of his trousers (hated them, it was always a good time to take them off) as he reached with the other hand to begin undoing buttons on his shirt.
"You're lucky the gap's there." That's all he had to say about that, as he joined it on the bed, kicking off the trousers as he went. It was... awkward. Something he really couldn't help, everyone else he'd been with had been well... Flesh and blood, and also with a considerably smaller track record of shooting at him. Awkward was just sort of inevitable.
"There exists multiple areas that are more sensitive to touch, much like you. I'll allow you to explore for yourself a little," as it had allowed him, after all, "the lesson will be more impactful that way." Mind, he'd surely be directing the Machine before long, but at least he was willing to allow a little bit of free reign.
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It waits patiently, almost politely, for Gabriel to finish talking before it puts its hands on him.
Rather than running its hands down his body, as might be expected, its hands cup his face, fingers stroking his skin. Its thumbs brush against the feathers of the wings on his face. It stares blatantly and quite without shame or any other kind of barrier to its clear curiosity, its touch almost exaggeratedly gentle.
It's still weird to see him without his helmet. It doesn't think it'll ever get used to that. It doesn't even know where all the hair goes, but it's a secondary priority to simply...looking at him.
It's such a novelty to be able to look upon the face of someone who had tried to kill it twice. Who it had tried to kill twice. And yet here both of them are, still somehow living.
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Gabriel wasn't entirely sure what to expect when it reached out to touch him. There had been something of an assumption that it would have started with his body, yes. That was were most anyone else would have begun, but there he went making assumptions based off of what normal people did, and not off of what V1 would do. That one was on him.
So he jerked a little in surprise as it cupped his face, distinctly not pulling away but certainly surprised by it. Of course, there's not really much by way of erogenous zones on his face, and the staring communicated an intense, oddly innocent curiosity. Odd if only in the fact that he knew where this was going, but so many things the Machine did seemed to hold that same level of strange innocence to it. Not necessarily naive or stupid, no but... Everything was so new for it, wasn't it?
After all, what did it know, outside of destruction? ... Well, soon it would know how bodies worked, it could put that on the list.
The multitude of eyes stared back with the same intensity, though maybe with a little bit more embarrassment, if the faint pink glow creeping over the tips of his wings were of any indication.
"Yes, I'm sure it's still a novelty seeing me without the helm, isn't it?"
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It's simply not something it has any real guidelines for. Touch without violence, resisting the urge to tear into a ready source of fuel within a living body... That in itself is...exciting? Bizarre? Interesting.
It would be so easy. The fingers of its auxiliary arms twitch as it contemplates the thought and then -- puts it aside.
It reaches out to touch that blush, holding the edge of one wing with a delicate pinch between thumb and forefinger, and then pats Gabriel fondly on the head before leaning back. It sweeps him with a calculating gaze, trying to decide where to put its hands next, and then puts one hand against his throat for a brief moment.
One thumb in the center, pressing briefly, feeling the pulse of a living heart, fresh blood surging below the surface. Then it moves its hand again, down the curve of Gabriel's neck and to his shoulder as if it hadn't paused at all.
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"It's fine, just ignore it, it's- It's nothing important." Maybe it knew, maybe it didn't, but Gabriel wasn't going to be admitting anything any time soon. V1 patted him on the head, and now that pink tone was in the fucking halo too oh for fucks SAKE- "Oh is this for that sensitive comment, earlier? I wasn't picking on you!" Yes he was. But it was nice! It was positive bullying!
Gabriel leaned back a little on his hands, sulking somewhat as V1 looked over him. It... was terribly awkward, yes, but he could hardly blame it he supposed. It wasn't like the thing was programmed for intimacy. He could show it as much grace at it needed, to an extent at least, if all the pink and that pout was of any indication.
He went completely and totally still the second V1 touched his neck. The Machine would be able to feel that pulse, already somewhat higher than normal, ticking upwards in pace as a brief, small shiver ran down his spine. His breath caught for a second as its thumb pressed down on the center-
All to come hissing back out of him again as it let go and meandered onwards.
Wholly pink and shimmering gold was a fancy new pattern and he wasn't sure he was particularly fond of that fact.
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It notes that sudden acceleration of pulse, the catch of breath, the sudden tension as it presses down on the angel's neck. Interesting. It will return to that later, it's not done yet.
Wings, though, wings are interesting, aren't they? V1 has 'wings' of a sort, but it's not the same. Its right hand moves in a slow arc, down Gabriel's chest and around to his back, seeking the point where the angel's wings connect; it leans over him as it does so, quite unashamedly in his lap as it investigates.
It doesn't have a heartbeat, not exactly. But this close, the way V1's angular frame thrums with subtle vibration, pulses with warmth through the thin plating, is noticeable.
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Gabriel stiffened as it climbed onto his lap, biting down on his bottom lip as it slid its hands over him to inspect where the wings connected on his back. Right atop another set of golden designs that branched out on either side of his back, it would seem, as if the gold itself were some sort of conduit through which this was facilitated. They were of course, quite solid all the way down to where they connected to him, absolutely no indication there that he could just make them disappear on a whim. Any touch at the base would elicit a soft sigh and a gentle shiver, "Gently there, it's sensitive."
As for the angel, well he was... containing himself. Containing himself quite well all things considered, seeing how fixated he was on the sensation of the Machine being this close. It was one thing to feel it under his hand, it was another to have that same soft, subtle vibration settled in his lap and leaning against his chest. Gabriel kept his hands at his sides, though the fingers curled into the sheets on the bed as he decided to focus on just keeping his breaths nice and even.
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It's interesting. All of this is interesting.
Gently...it can do gently, with some effort. Its fingers rub curiously against that sensitive spot, where the ephemeral-on-a-whim wing connects to Gabriel's flesh, mimicking the way Gabriel had massaged it earlier in its hand movements. Exchange, reciprocation, just as he'd said. It's being almost exaggeratedly careful, because it can still feel--
(BLOOD SOURCE DETECTED. BLOOD SOURCE DETECTED. BLOOD SOURCE DETECTED.
It's already fed. Its reserve tanks are full. But still, that pang of hunger remains, dogging it, haunting it. Next time could be the last time. Nothing is ever certain.
It would be so easy.
IT WOULD BE SO EASY.)
Its other hand moves downward, idly settling on his hip with no particular intent. It's concentrating right now. Its systems can be quiet unless something actually dangerous crashes into the room.
INTERNAL NOTE: TARGET HAS MADE TWO ATTEMPTS TO DESTROY YOU.
It seems to have no idea, or is quite possibly ignoring, how Totally Normal Gabriel is about it being in his lap. In fact, it's settled quite comfortably there, kneeling before him and completely absorbed in its investigation.
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The idea of giving the Machine his back still felt... inadvisable though. At least like that he could see if anything was coming. Was it wrong, to still be a little paranoid even now?
His hand twitched as it rested its hand upon his hip, and at long last he just could not contain himself anymore. Gabriel reached to rest his own hand upon V1's thigh, trying to tug them into him just... just a little closer.
"You're going to drive me fucking insane." The wing was good, but he needed more actually? More now, give him now.
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The words are a little surprising, though. It glances at him, a quick twitch of motion, its eye fixing on his face once more as it draws its hand away. Both hands on his hips now.
It lets itself be tugged closer without resistance, obeying his instructions for once so they're flush against each other. Its auxiliary arms twitch in subconscious protest, but it doesn't seem to intend to use them.
(Yet, at least.)
It taps the hand Gabriel has on its thigh, giving him a more...pointed look. Do you want it to follow instructions or let it free roam, give it some guidance here.
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"Here. Just... stay here." And then just to clarify: "Don't stop touching me I just..." The pink truly was all over his face now, the wings radiating shades of rose and gold in radiant patterns. Gabriel groaned in frustration, trying not to grind into it too openly. "It feels good with you there, alright?" So much for communication, let it not be said he wasn't trying though!
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Unfortunately, V1 also thinks this is funny. Gabriel is usually quite articulate, albeit usually when it's for yelling or condescendingly explaining something, in its experience. It's interesting to see that when presented with this kind of situation, his words begin to fail.
And if there's one thing V1 has a vice for, it's the desire to keep going simply to see what happens. Insatiable, voracious curiosity. And it does have two arms...more than two, even.
Well, then, what else can it do but keep going?
It leans back a little, another calculating sweep of its head as it looks him over. Then it purposefully arranges itself in his lap, its legs hooking neatly over his hips so it can press its body to his more firmly. He'd wanted that, he'd said as much, it's following instructions.
Its wings twitch in what's either excitement or enthusiasm as it slides its parrying hand upward, fingers pressing under his chin and jaw, palm firmly against his throat. The other hand snakes around Gabriel's side to his back, seeking out that sensitive point near his wings, resulting in V1 essentially holding him in an odd, close sort of pseudo-embrace.
The other two arms settle on the angel's knees, not doing anything yet. It's simply a display that it has them there.
If V1 was capable of looking smug, it might. It does, however, give off the distinct air of being proud of itself.
See? I'm paying attention.
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See, he'd asked for it to be closer. He also asked for it to keep touching him. Technically speaking, nothing it was doing here was outside the realm of what he'd specifically asked for and now he's mad about it actually. He'd be madder, but all things considered at present Gabriel was a little distracted. It pressed into him, and Gabriel sharply bucked upwards into it, his breath hitching. "Yes there-"
And then its hand was at his throat. And then it's other hand was at his wings. And then Gabriel forgot where he was going with this as a decidedly far less irritated sounding groan was dragged out of him, gripping its hips with both hands as he shivered under its touch.
Yeah he asked for this, but no one warned him what that would feel like, and who's fault is that really???? He's not exactly maintaining an air of calm control and confidence here anymore, is he?
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It wants more of whatever this is. Not the violence. This other thing.
Maybe it's not as unaffected by giving as it thought it would be.
Its fingers dig lightly into the base of his wings as it applies a bit of blunt pressure, its smaller body moving, grinding against his as it feels his response and delights in it, responding in turn.
It can feel Gabriel's pulse speeding up, a constant drumming against its palm, the fainter but still strong sensation of a heartbeat against its chest. It squeezes lightly, testing its grip, finding itself strangely reluctant to push too hard...whatever that means in this case. The neck was still a sensitive area, probably, it's not an expert.
If Gabriel is a bit dismayed at the way his composure is scattering, V1 doesn't mind at all. It likes this. Gabriel being flustered when angered is funny; Gabriel cutting loose during their fights is, despite the danger, interesting. Compelling.
This, however, is simply fun.
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Hard to concentrate on just that though as it digs its fingers into the base of his wings, letting out a soft, heated moan as it does, finally letting go of its hip to grip the wrist of the hand at his neck. "Harder." He'd let it know if it went too far, and this was not far enough.
"I'm not glass, for fucks sake..." It was the Machine. No matter how tender, no matter how intimate he was getting with it... annoyance in some form was just part of the entire package.
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Its wings flare briefly in annoyance, smacking against Gabriel's legs.
It stops moving as it did before, letting Gabriel grind against it but not returning that movement in kind. The protective shutter over its eye near-closes for a moment as it shoots him an aggravated look.
Fine, if he wants it harder, it can do harder. It clamps its hand around his neck more tightly, increasing the pressure around his throat, drags its fingers from the base of Gabriel's wings down his back as it digs in hard. Its legs lock around Gabriel's hips, pressing them closer together, as if it means to crush him with it.
(It can't; its hydraulics aren't strong enough for that. It's made for running, not wrestling. But despite the annoyance, it's trying, god.)
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thatdesperate, he'd wait.He barely registered the smack, glaring back at it with the same exact energy. "Don't you look at me like that, I'm just saying." Noticeably, this attitude problem of his didn't seem to impact the color of the wings. He might have been annoyed, sure, but that wasn't about to change the fact that he was still very, very much invested in this.
The response it finally gave him was both at once not what he was expecting and everything he'd asked for. Hard to know what to expect though when you had no basis for comparison so maybe that went without saying.
Gabriel jerked, the hand still at it's hip dragging downwards over unyielding metal as he pawed desperately at it. Rolling up into it, a stuttering gasp followed by an extremely unbecoming whine followed its decision to press so hard against him, gold and pink rippling across the wings as they dipped into its hand.
"F-fuck! Ye-Yes that! Li-like that!" Oh look, he's suddenly not mad anymore, how about that.
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Well, Gabriel's not yelling at it any more, so further escalation of hostilities can be temporarily suspended. It grinds its lower body against Gabriel roughly, one hand sliding up to the back of his neck and raking its fingers down in one quick, violent motion. The other hand is still clamped firmly on Gabriel's throat; intermittently, randomly, it squeezes harder, forcing periods of breathlessness before it releases.
Its head swivels back and forth as it observes the consequences of its actions with rapt interest, feeling Gabriel's heart thumping through the thin plating of its chest, pressed together as they are. As if it too had a heartbeat. As if it, too, was a creature of flesh and blood.
(Not even mortal, Gabriel had said once, denounced it so once. This close, it wonders, has the space and fuel to even think, is this softness, this vulnerability, this ability to be undone in this way, is that what mortality means? But Gabriel isn't mortal - isn't human - so maybe this whole premise is flawed. It should throw it out and start again and attack the thought from another angle.
It resists the temptation to delete the entirely useless mental commentary of the last few seconds.)
It drinks in those responses meanwhile, truly and intensely pleased that something it's already really good at at can be applied to something else it doesn't have any experience with. It no longer feels like it's entirely out of its depth.
(Its own wings flicker with distorted color - some misfiring wiring that's never been replaced and it's honestly totally forgotten about, hooked up to respond to strong bursts of neurological activity. It doesn't notice.)
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It was rough, more so than anything he'd ever ask of Cassiel. The idea of requesting something like this from the other angel didn't sit well with him, not with the history the two of them shared. Though, to be fair, Gabriel hadn't even been wholly aware this would be something he'd enjoy, no one else had found themselves in a position quite like this with him before after all. And anyone else probably wouldn't have even been allowed the chance to try, if he had to think about it. What did that say, that he was more willing to let the Machine that could actually kill him wrap it's hands around his neck than any of the mortals here? Probably nothing healthy, he's not going to think about that actually.
He caught the way its wings flickered, finding himself strangely enamored at the thought. Or maybe it wasn't so odd, considering how the wall behind him was lit up in shades of cotton candy and gold.
"Fuck... Fuck." Not terribly eloquent like this at all, was he? Once more, he'd pull at it's hip, trying to angle himself just so against it. It just wasn't quite enough, he needed more actually.
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GOING FOR THAT P-RANK?
INTERNAL COMMENTARY MARKED AS IRRELEVANT
Another flicker of its wing color, another irritable little twitch as it ponders this new problem of sorts. It doesn't actually know a lot about his anatomy, is the thing, and Gabriel is weirdly not being informative right now in favour of being noisy, and he's going to just be even more noisy but also mad if it stops to ask. It's perfectly happy to choke him and keep scraping at his back, he really likes that apparently, but there's something else he wants and isn't getting so it'll have to figure it out.
Fine, it'll have to get creative. It can get creative. It's getting creative right now, isn't it?
Neither of its two available arms are particularly good for blah blah flesh and blood are frailer than steel, but the Whiplash has more flexible fingers, and it doesn't need to use the launcher. It taps at a wing (weird colour now, what's that about, whatever, it'll look over the system logs later, not important) and draws out the revolver, glancing over to it long enough to be noticeable.
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He's trying though. "I just- You're close, it's... Hard to describe-" Yes he did see the body language, yes he did see the twitching of its wings. Gabriel is more than aware that he's failing on the chatter front, but most of the time his partners were just as caught up in the moment as he was, this is a little bit of a new situation alright?
The choice to grab a gun was uh-
"Whatareyoudoingwiththat." ANSWER HIM, MACHINE.
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It stays like that for a moment, and then quite deliberately shifts back so it's not totally pressed against him as it was before. The Whiplash tucks under their two active arms as they put the revolver muzzle down pointing towards the bed yes it understands gun safety between them.
The problem appears to be a lack of specific, directed friction, as far as it can tell. This is what it's got for a solution, by far the safest one given the Whiplash's grappling launcher and the Knuckleblaster's shotgun.
Well, it could swap its arms around, but despite everything it did listen to Gabriel's admonishments and it's trying, okay, it's not like it has experience with this either. Its usual arm has blunt fingers and no additional attachments, it's not trying to rip him apart and that's far easier with the other two extra arms it has.
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"Are you... thinking about using that?" Not in the most orthodox way either, he's sure. How it intends on utilizing it is beyond him, but it's clearly trying to puzzle this whole matter out as best it can and to be fair; he hasn't exactly been the best at communicating so far. Is he going to accept blame for this?
Well. Not out loud.
"Alright, okay look- I... Here." It's a fucking robot, why is he so goddamn awkward about this? It wasn't like V1 cared one way or the other, he could be as crass as he liked! ... Maybe he's the problem.
Gabriel was by this point a bright, vibrant pink, thanks to the wings and just in general as he leaned back on the bed. He dragged his hand away from it, the motion distinctly hesitant, as he rested it on his lower belly. There, it'd slip downwards, his breath hitching as he pressed his middle finger against his clit. Shouldn't be this flustered about it-
"This is... part of what you should be paying attention to." In the most simplistic of terms of course, but it was an excellent place to start. "The majority of it is... it's internal, I don't expect-" Didn't expect it to have the means or desire to actually go that far for an orgasm. "As you can see there's other areas outside that work well in tandem with it." The words sort of jumbled together on that one, his fingers caressing over the top of that oversensitive little bud.
It was impossible to look away from it as he spoke, simultaneously it was so incredibly awkward to keep looking. It was hard to glean precisely what was going through the Machine's head after all, anyone else would have a proper expression to gauge.
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It sits back on its heels to give him room, letting him go completely for the moment. Its head moves, clearly tracking his motions, studying him intently with the focus it usually reserves for trying to not get murdered. Despite the lack of variation in staring, given it was never built to emote, there's a sense of familiarity about the look all the same - that sense of complete and utter attention.
It watches his hands mostly, flicking up its head occasionally to look at the way Gabriel flushes (INTERNAL NOTE: POSITIVE ASSOCIATION//PLEASING?).
It thinks it gets how this works, or at least there's enough there to start with. It could just use its fingers for stimulation, especially internal stimulation, but he seems to want this kind of stimulation and also all the other things it was doing.
Fine. Now it's V1's turn to explain how this is going to work. It grips the revolver tightly, feeling the light pulsing hum of the powered battery, reviewing what it's already learned. Gabriel had responded interestingly even when it wasn't doing anything, and he's warm enough, so it's likely the vibration of its own systems that he found pleasant...
It spins up the mechanism in the Whiplash that usually controls reeling in the cord. There's an audible whirring sound as the motor whines at this unorthodox use, and it watches the revolver vibrate more strongly with satisfaction. Hypothesis tested. Yes, this will work, in short bursts at least.
Without warning or any sort of fanfare, it leans forward again, pressing the revolver (still muzzle down so Gabriel doesn't think it's going to shoot him) between the angel's legs, exactly where it was shown, before activating the motor in its hand again to make the revolver's vibrations increase drastically.
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Gabriel had all the time in the world to sit there and ponder what the Machine intended on doing. Plenty of time to put two and two together and come to a logical conclusion as to where this particular train of thought was headed.
He figured it out very quickly, though granted it was hard to imagine it going any differently, when he saw and heard the vibration go off. There were a lot of occasions where V1's little morse code trick came in handy, but let it never be said the Machine wasn't eloquent enough sometimes without any words at all. Every eye scattered across the feathered half of his face had gone wide, regarding the gun with no small amount of apprehension, nor undeniable, perhaps somewhat unsettling thrill.
If V1 hadn't moved forward with the gun itself, Gabriel might have just grabbed for it and yanked it in anyway. The staccato cry he gave as the vibration shot through his spine peaked, cut off into a muffled, garbled moan as he clapped his hand over his mouth. Too loud, too noisy, it wasn't like anyone was going to come in here to see what the noise was but it was the principle of the thing.
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