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[Fic] "Warmth"
Michael had once overheard Dean Winchester joke that the Men of Letters’ bunker had become a sort of home for wayward angels. Perhaps he had not been too far off. In the wake of escaping the Cage and helping to extinguish the threat to the world that was their aunt Amara, which ended up being resolved peacefully as she had patched things over with their Father, both Michael and Lucifer had lingered around. And not too long after, Gabriel had popped out of hiding and started hanging around the bunker.
“Geez, who next? Is the whole host going to come down here? I tell you we’re not running a damn angel orphanage.” Dean complained loudly to Michael, watching as Gabriel had made himself at home, curling up in an armchair and helping himself to sweets from the kitchen.
“Given the others’ aversion to Lucifer, they will probably keep their distance.” Michael had considered going back and taking his place on the throne but it no longer felt right to him. He watched as Gabriel rose up from the chair, stretching out his limbs before stepping out of the library.
“I still don’t like the fact that Satan is hanging around here, especially so close to my brother.” Dean scowled. Considering that there were very little suitable vessels for Lucifer, the current one was holding up rather well. Michael knew how he preferred Nick but for the moment he was stuck inside the body of a young male nurse with curly sandy blond hair. He had been fortunate to be able to ride out of the Cage in the flesh of Adam Milligan but his brother had to find a new vessel given how Nick had been left rotting. And it was beyond Lucifer’s power to reanimate his flesh after so much time had elapsed.
“Sam will be fine. He is aware that your brother is off limits.” Michael reassured him, remembering the conditions that God had given to Lucifer before he had taken off with his sister. As long as he obeyed his few requests, such as to not cause any chaos or general harm amongst humans and to leave Sam Winchester alone, to name just a few, Lucifer would be allowed to remain on the Earth and stay free from the Cage.
“Right, because he is so trustworthy when it comes to keeping his word.” Dean responded sarcastically, casting suspicion over Lucifer. Michael rubbed his face in irritation.
It was at that moment that Lucifer decided to walk inside the library, holding a book to return to the shelf. He spared a glance over at Michael before remarking, “Why are your wings unfurled like you are about to attack something?”
Michael groaned. It was true. At his Dean’s insult to his brother, his wings had instinctively unfolded defensively, offended on Lucifer’s behalf. Certainly, Lucifer had made plenty of mistakes but he had once been the envy of the entire Host and their Father’s most trusted angel. It was not something to brush off lightly. Dean just stared at him, not that he was able to see his wings on the current plane they were being kept in. True vessel or not, he was still not privy to be able to see his wings like that.
He pulled his wings back into his back, straightening himself before he addressed Lucifer, “It is nothing. I briefly forgot myself for a moment.”
“How unlike you, brother. Or perhaps Dean Winchester had said something to arouse your anger? Your true vessel is not known for having a gentle disposition.” Lucifer responded skeptically, exchanging the book that he had loaned for another one.
“Oh right, like you are any better, cupcake.” Dean snorted.
“I would say that it is part of his charm.” Michael said evenly, causing Lucifer to let out a low laugh.
“Did you just make a joke?” Dean’s jaw dropped as he remarked in disbelief.
“My brother did have a sense of humor once upon a time before he got that stick shoved up his ass. Perhaps it has finally decided to dislodge itself.” Lucifer answered smoothly.
“There was no appropriate time or place for jokes on Father’s throne. I acted in a manner befitting my duty.” Michael conveyed with seriousness.
“You mean losing all sense of having a personality. You buried your true self to become Dad’s little obedient sword.” Lucifer chided.
“Must we get into this argument again? I tire of explaining myself to you.” Michael sighed. Any time that Lucifer brought it up, they always ended up being mad at each other and having to cool down before they could face one another again.
“Do Sam and I need to coordinate some more archangel therapy here? I really don’t want you two going all Jerry Springer in here.” Michael recalled at how the brothers had sat their Father and Lucifer down in attempt to get them to cooperate together against Amara.
“No need. Besides, your concept of therapy sucks.” Lucifer commented to Dean before storming out of the bunker, his wings were now unfurled in irritation. The time in Hell might have damaged the once pristine wings, charring the ends with Hellfire, but the white fluffy feathers dotted with flecks of blue were still a thing of beauty to behold, unlike Michael’s own tawny brown ones.
The Winchesters had insisted that if the archangels were to remain at the bunker, they would have to chose rooms at opposite ends to avoid any drama. Michael thought it was unnecessary but they had obliged nevertheless. The bunker was large enough that it was easy to accommodate their request.
Some might have thought that Lucifer relished the cold because he radiated nothing but coldness from his grace but it was quite the opposite. He knew that his brother always desired for warmth, which is why he had chosen the room closest to the boiler room. The cold never bothered Michael because his grace burned hot.
Though, he did not know why they required rooms. It was not like angels needed to sleep, unless their grace was failing them, such as Castiel had experienced in the past. Lucifer liked to use his as a sort of sanctuary where he could read and be undisturbed by others. Michael did not have such interests to occupy his time so often times he tried to lay down and simulate the act of sleeping, closing his eyes and letting his thoughts drift.
When he allowed his thoughts so come back to himself as he had laid out on the bed on his stomach, Michael had noted that the body of his vessel felt considerably colder than usual. And a heavy weight on top of his back told him that something was amiss.
“Lucifer.” He did not even need to open his eyes to tell who was on top of him.
“Shut up, I don’t want to hear your annoying voice right now.” His brother’s hands gripped his shoulders and he nuzzled his face into the back of his neck.
“Am I your personal heater?” Michael questioned with humor and Lucifer just groaned at him. Opening his eyes, he pushed himself up, which caused Lucifer to roll off him. His brother glared at him for being dismounted. Michael flipped onto his back and pulled Lucifer onto his lap, letting his wings unfurl and wrap around his brother.
“It’s unfair how warm you are.” Lucifer commented, resting his chin on Michael’s shoulder.
“Perhaps but you have always been the beautiful one.” His hands brushed over Lucifer’s wings, causing them to shiver at the attention.
“Flattery will get you everywhere.” Lucifer rebuked him. Michael leaned back, dislodging his brother’s chin from his shoulder and grabbed his face with his hand.
“My words are sincere,” Michael brushed a thumb over Lucifer’s lips before ducking his head down to kiss him. His brother’s wings fluttered at the action, feathers brushing up against his. He grinned as he heard a moan escape from Lucifer. Fingers dig into the back of his head, deepening the kiss.
Neither one of them take notice of the door creaking open until Castiel’s deep voice echoed through the room, “Th-....I shall inform Sam and Dean that you are preoccupied.”
The both of them paused and looked at their little brother, who looked flustered at stumbling upon them at such a moment. Castiel let out a small apology before hastily leaving and promptly closing the door behind him. Lucifer snickered into his neck and Michael just smiled down at him.
No words were needed.