Gabriel - One Bed (Patreon)

The door slammed, shaking the false windows and rattling the few pieces of furniture that were not nailed down within the room. Gabriel stormed inside, ripping the scabbard from his belt and tossing it carelessly to the corner. The blade stuck within the soft wood floor with a slight squelch as silver cracks of light shot out, encircling the room and sinking into the walls and ceiling in a hazy ethereal glow

“This is absolutely ridiculous,” he growled, beginning to rip off his coat, a button taking the brunt of his ire.  “They know who I am. They cannot keep us here.”

We had been enjoying a day out. It was the kind of day we never got to partake in given that he was a workaholic and I was cursed with the inability to not be involved in world shattering events.  It had taken quite a bit of finagleing to get Gabriel to even agree to leave the office.  And for the first few hours, he was seeing monsters in every corner.  It wasn’t until I had taken his hand and reminded him of our promise to each other,, that he even came back to himself enough to think rationally.

And then the district we were in was quarantined.

We got word of it halfway through our day and as we made our way back home, we were stopped by the Velvet Guard. Three of Gabriel’s men that had worked for him for several years now, stood in our way. No one was allowed in or out of the district. Not for three days. If we didn’t show signs of contamination by then, we were allowed to leave.

In all the years I had watched my warden, in all the times we had been together, I didn’t think I had ever seen him raise his voice as loud as he did then.

“I am the Warden,” he continued now, looking around our room with a sneer. “I cannot just sit here for the next three days while the market falls apart.”

I looked at him with a tilt of my head, recognizing his anger but trying my best to not match whatever this fear was.  “Isn’t it protocol to lock down a district if the people there are getting sick?”

“Yes,” he said without preamble.

“So aren’t your men doing the exact thing that you trained them to do?”

“I did not train them to imprison their Warden.”

“They are not imprisoning you, Gabriel. They are following orders.”

“I am above those orders,” he snapped.

I raised a brow at him. “You really believe that?” From my position on the bed I could see his agitation. The way his fingers flexed, the cracks of his hands deeping as his grace bled through.

“Yes,” he said, voice laced in confusion. “No. I don’t know. Perhaps there needs to be exceptions put in place for this kind of situation.”

“You start putting exceptions in place for people in power and you are going to have a lot of angry citizens on your hands. Including me.”

It was a slap to the face that irritated him far more than he wanted me to see because he wiped it from his expression just as quickly as it came.

I felt a small sigh escape me. This wonderful, strong, and oftentimes, stupid man.  I adored him to no end but the structure of power that he allowed himself to partake in was a dying hierarchy. One that I had made a point of killing since walking these grounds. I could see the toll it took on him. The way that Gabriel looked lost in the dead of night. I felt sorry for him most days. Guilty at my own words for putting the fear in his eyes.  But the Velvet Guard could not continue the way he saw fit during bouts of anger.  Nothing good ever came from it.

“Come here,” I beckoned, scooting over on the bed.

“Absolutely not.”

It was my turn to be taken aback. “Why?”

“If we are contagious then we will need to stay on opposite sides of the room in order to lessen the risk of transfer.”

He couldn’t actually be serious. There was no way that he was committed to this.  “Gabriel, we kissed earlier today. We’ve held hands all day.  You and I shared a glass of wine. I think the time for concern has already passed.”

“I will not hear of it. This is my line,” he stated firmly.

I rolled my eyes. “You only have this line because I called you out on your idiototic viewpoints.”

The muscle of his jaw flexed. Called it.

“I do not think we will be able to stay here for the three days they require,” he said. “Especially in these accommodations.” Most had scrambled for a room. The one Gabriel had managed to get, even when trying to throw his weight around, had been mediocre at best. I still wasn’t convinced that this wasn’t an abandoned little apartment somewhere that an opportunist just had us buy out for the next few days.

Still…

Three days with Gabriel was not the worst thing that had ever happened to me. I just needed to make him see that as well.

“Gabriel, you are acting ridiculous,” I told him, softening my voice. “Just come to bed. Lay down with me. We can sit and talk and–”

“This is your fault.”

It took a solid minute for me to understand if I heard him right. Gabriel was pacing the room now. “How?”

“We never should have gone to this flea market that you love.  It clearly is unhygienic. And it had nothing of value to it.”

“Flea markets are not unhygienic,” I groaned, flopping back down onto the bed. How many times were we to have this argument. “ You just don’t have taste in furniture. Or clothes.,”

“I beg your pardon.”

“You're pardoned.”

“I do too have taste.”

“You only wear your uniform. Even your day off clothes are just different pieces of your uniform. And as for your furniture, it is all monochromatic and utilitarian.  There is nothing about it that speaks of you. Your style. Your personality.” I paused. “Actually, I take that back. It does speak of your personality a bit.”

“I am offended at your take on my life.”

“Just as I am offended by the very boring aesthetic that you foster within your home. Hence the reason we came to the flea market.”

“And hence the reason we will be dying in a puddle of our own vomit.”

I kicked off my shoes then, pushing myself under the covers. They were actually warm and surprisingly soft. “Gabriel, stop being prissy and get into bed, please.”

There was silence. I wasn’t sure if he was contemplating what I had told him or if he was trying to decide if he was stubborn enough to sleep on the floor. I knew he wouldn’t. Unhygienic was a theme with Gabriel. It was a tick that sent him spiraling immediately.

I smiled to myself as I heard the click of his belt and the tines on his trouser’s zipper.  When a warm and smooth plane of chest pressed against me from behind, I snuggled back, reaching down to lace my hands within his own.

“I love how secretly snobby you are,” I told him.

He scooted around as he settled down. The lines of tension from his body were wearing down as he held me. “I apologize for my earlier assessment,” he whispered gruffly. “Just because I am Warden does not mean I am above the law.”

“No it does not.”

“However,” he said, shifting again. “These accommodations will not do. This bed is far too small.” At six foot seven, a twin sized bed was comical for him. Add me in there and we were practically going to sleep on top of each other tonight.  An idea that I was not upset about.

Rolling over, I straddled him, stretching my body across his own.  “I am looking forward to the next three days,” I told him, running my finger down his chest. “No Velvet Guard. No Warden duties. No Night Market catastrophes. Just a good old fashion vacation while we both wait to find out if we have the plague.”

His nose wrinkled. “You have a way with words.”

I laughed loudly at that, leaning down to kiss him. His lips were soft and pliant against my own as his hands came up to encircle my hips. I could feel the way he shifted beneath me, the telling hardness growing as I ground down against him. Plague be damned, I was going to have fun the next few days.