Gabe slid his fingers into that lush hair. “I know… but it’s for the best. No big deal.”
Damian parted his lips. “Liar…”
Gabe kissed him, pushing in deep as his hands went around his head, into his hair, feeling Damian do the same. Clench his fist. He looked at him when Damian pulled his head back.
“My little fuck…”
“My big boss guy…”
Not letting him cry, lose it, he pushed his hand on the bulge in his pants, rubbing, kissing him softly. Walking, blind, to that large bed, that insane softness when Damian pushed him on it, climbing on top of him. Kissing him, stealing his breath. That urge to live, to feel, pushing them to take each other’s clothes off. Hard. Impatient. Their touch, almost painful when it found flesh, skin, soft clashes of their teeth as they ate each other up. Love instead of despair. Hard kisses to bring up tears of joy. Hard breaths to stretch their aching throats. Gabe spread his legs, letting Damian push in, clinging to that pain, to his back, spurring him on with soft words, rocking his hips when it was already too much, that long-forgotten scent of fresh laundry around them, those cool sheets under their burning skin. More. More. Biting his shoulders, his neck, his nails trailing Damian’s back, following every move of those rolling muscles, those hips rocking into him. Tears sliding down his throat as he cried softly. Drinking his moans when he sped up, his fingers digging into his ass. Feeling him lose it as he lost it too. Rocking gently, holding Damian’s trembling body tight, buried under him. Lapping his taste off, sucking gently that pouring sweat. Cradling him as he cried.
Next day, Gabe was back at the suite before Damian, feeling that cool air on his scalp, his soft reflection in that double glass, his hair cut short. A peculiar feeling, his whole body numb after the massage he got. There was not much they could do with his hands and feet, but tried their best, and it hurt a bit where they had polished the callouses off. His whole body stinking of some sort of scented oils. He could only hope Damian had held it together. A lump in his throat. He swallowed, hearing the lock. Not daring to turn. A hand on his shoulder, his neck, grazing the bristles on it. Their eyes met in the glass, and Gabe got up to face him, trying to find the man he’d known all these years, that face familiar, yet foreign. His hair had been cut too, but the black was almost dark grey, two large white stripes running from his temples down the back, a few narrower ones snaking in that dark short hair. Gabe reached to his face, his hands grappling air where that lush cascade of hair used to be, and Damian just pulled him into an embrace, unable to talk. To escape his eyes filled with grief. Trying to ignore his reflection backed by that vast blue.
On the way to the airport the next day, silent, into the check-in hall. Harold strode away whilst they waited, holding hands, their eyes roaming the hall, their hearts in their throats. Not just because of the imminent goodbye, but that fear, too. That fear there. Memories of lights going out, screams. Darkness. Damian opened his eyes to Harold’s voice.
“Your ride is here, Gabriel. A private jet for you, courtesy of Qantico.” He gestured to a man walking towards them, trailing a small suitcase. A tall man in pilot uniform, his cap on his white hair.
He walked straight to Gabe, letting go of the suitcase, pulling him into a hug. Gabe, in shock at his voice, his touch.
“Gabe… Gabe… My sparrow…” Cradling him, and Gabe had to push him away, his eyes wide.
His voice, raw. “Raph?”
Damian’s eyes went wide, and Harold just stood, checking his watch.
The pilot smiled, wide. “Yes… happy to see me? I can’t believe this…” He grazed his knuckles down Gabe’s face and he peeled that hand off, dead scared. All too conscious of Damian, who had stepped to him and taken his hand.
“I don’t think we’ve had the pleasure.”
Raphael’s eyes went to him. “No… I’m Raphael. Gabe’s boyfriend?”
“Ex... ex-boyfriend.” Gabe managed to push this out, clinging to Damian’s hand. His iron grip.
“Oh… well… I never forgot you, Gabe. That affair didn’t mean anything, you know? I cried my eyes out for you when that plane went down… and life… is miraculous, right? You’re back…”
Gabe pressed against Damian, whose arm had gone around his shoulder. “I have Damian now.”
Raph just smiled lightly. “Ah… understandable… but when you have no choice, any choice is good, right?”
Damian almost stepped to him, but Harold stood in front of him, facing Raph. “Better leave. Our plane is ready, too. Safe flight.”
Raph smiled. “He’s safe with me. I’m the best there is, right, Gabe?”
Gabe didn’t reply, looking at Damian, turning into his arms. “I’m coming to you soon.”
“Sure thing. Take care.” Leaning in for a kiss which Gabe gave to him with blatant passion, letting him invade his mouth, make his skin flame up. Damian ran his palm down his cheek. Warm, strong. His voice a whisper. “Little fuck…”
“Big boss guy…”
Gabe watched him haul his backpack on his back, leave in that white shirt, his business pants, almost like on that flight. Not looking back as he followed Harold, and he almost rushed after him when a hand grabbed his arm. Firm, gentle.
“Come. We have a good flight still. My sparrow…”
“I’m not your sparrow…”
“You grew a lot… you look amazing.”
Gabe ignored it, even if his voice made his face flame up.Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. But he followed Raph’s perfect V shape to the tarmac, to the plane, up the ladder.
