Work Text:
Gabriel shifts slightly on his knees, wings fluttering nervously, still not used to this kind of attention. V1's cold fingers trace the shimmering gold lines painted down his body, drawing a shiver from him. He doesn't think he'll ever completely get used to being touched like this, not after centuries of being trained to hate it, but by God does he crave it.
His arms are snuggly bound behind him, wrists tied together using the cable from V1's Whiplash. Beneath him is a soft rug, allowing him to kneel without any pain, staring into the mirror before him. He rarely ever looked at his own body for any reason other than to admire one of God's creations.
It still feels strange to have his helmet off. He knows the machine can't see his face anyway, its systems block out his entire head, but it makes him feel just that more vulnerable. As if reading his thoughts, the machines hands drift upwards, sliding up his neck and petting at the many wings on his head.
His eyes slip shut as his head tilts back into the touch, a sigh of contentment escaping him. The machines touch on his facial wings always makes him feel safe and loved, an instinctual thing with angels. While the machine likes to be rough with his body, it knows to never hurt his smaller wings, and he cherishes it for that. He can't deny that he loves their rough housing, but he definitely loves these softer moments too.
Its hands slide back down, palms running over the muscles in his back, like it's mapping out every part of him, committing him to memory. He looks at himself in the mirror again, able to just barely see the smaller machine behind him. It looks so small like this. He knows it is much smaller than him, obviously, but he doesn't always notice just how much bigger he is.
Its hands find the base of his wings, making his body jolt slightly. It starts massaging at the muscles there, slowly working its way up his wings as they shiver and flutter, earning quiet whimpers from him. He tries to bite his tongue and be quiet, embarrassed about the noises coming out of him.
The machines fingers find new feathers hidden in the fluffy mass of Gabriel's wings, gently removing the keratin sheaths and letting the pieces crumble to the floor. It learned that was a way to bond shortly after they called a truce, back when he still thought he was dying.
He still isn't sure why he's alive, but part of him believes that being with V1 has filled the void that the Father's light left in him. In a way, V1 has been his light since he was exiled from Heaven, and he's never felt more free, more complete.
It leans forwards, its chest pressing against his back as its head lays on his shoulder. Its fingers thread through his feathers, dragging over the muscular structure hidden beneath, gently kneading the flesh. He shudders uncontrollably, a small whimper escaping him. It tilts its head closer, like it's listening intently, absorbing every quiet sound he lets slip.
Knowing now that it wants to hear him, he feels a little more comfortable making more noise, not holding anything back, as embarrassing as it is for an angel of his rank. Well, former rank, he supposes.
The machine purrs behind him, pleased with his sounds. One of its hands snakes around his body, fingertips dragging over his skin so lightly it gives him goosebumps. Its fingers trail down, down, to his half-hard cock. It trails its fingers from base to tip, earning a twitch at the featherlight touch.
His dick pulses when V1 wraps its hand around it, feeling his cock fill out as it slowly strokes him. Its other hand remains buried in his feathers, not moving as much as before as it focuses on his dick, but still lightly massaging him.
His head falls back onto V1's shoulder with a heavy exhale, his breathing coming a little quicker than before. V1 will never not be amazed at how sensitive he is, after centuries of never once touching himself or being touched. It feels honored to be the one to have popped his celibate cherry.
He shivers at the pleasure running through him, his dick now hard and leaking slightly. The hand caressing his wings moves around his body to his chest, fingers sprawled out over his heart, feeling the steady thrum under his ribs.
He wonders what it's thinking right now; if it's imagining ripping into his chest and holding his beating heart, or digging grooves into his body and absorbing every drop of his life that escapes.
Or maybe, it's just enjoying him. Feeling his heart flutter from its touch, taking in every noise and shiver he makes and relishing in the fact that it can do this to him. Maybe it just wants to show him that it loves him, the only way it can.
That thought makes him whimper, the need to touch the machine in return eating at him, but there's something so freeing in being unable to do anything, just sitting here and taking everything the machine has to offer.
Its hand drifts up, fingers teasing around his neck, and his heart jumps at the thought of it choking him. Instead, its fingertips touch at his carotid, gently rubbing the skin on either side of his neck.
His hips squirm, absentmindedly thrusting into its hand, nearing his end and desperate for the euphoria. It grabs his chin, pulling on it to force his head off its shoulder, making him look at himself in the mirror. He looks a mess, his entire lower body moving with the machines hand, his breathing coming in quick pants, only interrupted by his whimpers and moans.
It suddenly focuses its attention on the head of his dick, stroking him quickly and squeezing him just right that it has his entire body jolting with the force of his orgasm hitting him. He lets out a moan, his hips jerking forwards as cum shoots onto the mirror in front of him, his head trying to fall back but being kept in place by V1.
Its hand slows down when he stops cumming, his breathing ragged and heavy. His brain feels fuzzy from how good that felt.
He jumps when the machine starts stroking him again, moving its hand just as fast as it had when he came. An embarrassing yelp escapes him as his entire body squirms from the overstimulation, loud whimpers and gasps being pulled from him as it pumps him.
His legs open and close, hips pushing forwards and then pulling away as his body struggles to decide whether it needs more or needs less. Its hand focuses again on his tip, the pleasure mixing with pain from overstimulation, completely overwhelming his senses.
He isn't even aware of what he looks like, can't focus long enough to look at himself in the mirror, his eyes too busy rolling back and clamping shut. His entire body is buzzing with more pleasure than he's ever felt in his centuries of life.
He barely registers himself cumming again, pushing back against the machine as he squirms and shivers, moaning so loud that he's glad this entire layer is empty.
He's panting heavily when he comes down from the high, eyelids almost too heavy to open, thighs trembling under him. He feels the hand that was on his neck now gently petting his facial wings, its other hand rubbing his thigh. The machine is the only thing holding him up now, his full body weight slumped back against it.
The binds around his wrists slowly come undone, letting his hands fall, eventually coming to rest on the machines thighs. He feels as if he could stay here forever, held in the machines arms, his skin buzzing pleasantly. He isn't sure he's ever felt this happy before.
Minutes pass, and eventually V1 decides Gabriel needs to rest. It helps him up and to the bed, which he gratefully flops face-first onto, body sprawled out and taking up over half of the king sized mattress. Luckily, the machine is quite small and fits perfectly in the space he leaves behind.
He feels his consciousness slipping the second his body hits the soft bed, but still notices the machine moving next to him, squeezing itself under his arm. He rolls slightly onto his side so he can pull the small machine closer, earning a surprised beep from it.
He lets out a huff of a laugh, the most he can do with the little energy he has left. He drapes his wing over it, letting himself drift off to sleep with it securely in his arms.