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wiredaughter · 1 year ago

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@tropetember #28: marriage proposal

midamap #1: silver

Archangels Don't Get Hitched

supernatural ♡ adam milligan/michael ♡ 2207 words ♡ marriage proposal ♡ flufffff ♡ falling in love ♡ first kiss ♡ touch starved ♡ ao3

Holding each other all the time. Finally kissing. Making out on the regular. This progression doesn't take from the fact that archangels just don't get married, so Adam should forget about it. Adam cannot forget about it. He wants to marry the first archangel and, considering their history, he'll be damned again if he doesn't at least try.

Archangels don't get married. The idea is ludicrous, and Adam figures it's kind of a 'married to god' thing, just like nuns. He wasn't thinking about that when he introduced himself as Michael's fiance though, he wasn't thinking much really, high on the rush of Michael calling him his boyfriend. He'd only wanted to correspond the declaration, and that's all it'd been. Michael's manager - and wasn't that a title- had left, they'd hung around for the day and then skipped town, lease and shelter be damned.

They'd left for Rhode Island, settling close to the shore. It's all new for both of them, and that goes well with the wonders their days are made of now. The way Michael's eyes linger on him, getting used to his dyed hair and glasses, his own shock at the angels unchanged appearance. It'd been too painful to look at his reflection every day and know he was entirely, hopelessly alone, that the eyes looking at him from the mirror were his alone. He doesn't understand how Michael could bear it, but intuits it was a similar sorrow that drove him to keep his vessel unchanged. All that's forgotten now, though, and he's as elated at Michael's fidelity as the angel is by his evolution. As they are at being apart, together. For days, they are functionally one person, unable or unwilling to break away more than strictly necessary. He falls asleep in Michael's chest at night, Michael holds him as he makes his way to the door for the takeout he ordered, they spend way too much time cuddling; reassuring themselves at their closeness. They kiss.

The first time he kisses Michael it's natural. It just feels right. The angel is spooning him lazily on the sofa as Adam reads him The Two Towers. When he makes it to the passage where Shelob paralises Frodo, he feels Michael hide his face in his shoulder, and the gesture is so honest, so alive he cannot help it when he puts down the book to turn in his arms and press a kiss to his lips. It's chaste, featherlight pressure that grows into something solid for an instant before disappearing. As he pulls back, he gets the impulse to hide his face but the intensity of the archangel's expression stops him. Eyes blown by surprise, cheeks tinted red, lips parted as he rises one limp hand to ghost over them. It just then occurs to him there's no way Michael's kissed anyone before. The notion is exhilarating and frightening in equal parts, and he finds himself gently replacing the angel's hand with his own, tracing his lower lip with his knuckles. 'It's okay.' He says breathy and as nonchalantly as he can manage. 'Frodo and Sam, and everything. It'll be okay.'

He goes to say something else, anything else to take from those implacable eyes that glisten with something he can't understand, but there's hands on his face pulling him close and Michael's kissing him with all the vehemence of inexperience, fingers tense on his cheeks, lips ever so soft on his. He smiles into it, giving him a peck before pulling back just enough to form words. 'Michael, are y-''

The angel's mouth is back on his before he can finish, experimental and skittish and, evidently, alright. Reassured by the contact, Adam lets his lips glide against the angel's, warm and enticing. Slowly, he guides Michael's hands from his face to his waist, which has Michael sighing into the kiss and holding him closer than Adam had expected, but still not close enough and he returns the embrace, tangling their legs as if they could melt into one this way. He pulls away at last, eyes half lidded in contrast to Michael's, which blink wide open at the loss of his touch. They kiss a lot that day, book entirely forgotten. Adam's personal high point is when, emboldened as the angel's hands start to wander, he nips at his lower lip getting a full body shudder and a low whimper he commits to memory as Michael's fingers dig into his hips.

They kiss a lot, all the time. Soft, playful pecks whilst they wait for the water for heat for their tea; forehead kisses as Adam drifts off; longer, tender kisses when he wakes. He loves the way he manages to render Michael speechless within seconds, and Michael doesn't mind at all as long as he gets to kiss Adam. The thought makes the human positively giddy. One evening, when Michael zaps them back home after they manage the Cliff Walk, he even feels brave enough to up the ante. Invigorated from their hike and seeking the archangel's warmth he kisses him hard, pushing him back against the door, getting a satisfied noise that ends in a whine when Adam teases his tongue along the seam of his lips. The sound gives way to an eager gasp, and he's glad for the firm hold Michael has on his hips, because he feels his knees go weak as the archangel's mouth welcomes him, pliant and wishing, and better than he could have dreamed because Michael's usual loss for words doesn't make him any less vocal at the pleasurable assault. The moans leaving his mouth under his tongue's ministrations are downright indecent and Adam never wants to stop kissing him. Fortunately, Michael is in the same page as he leads them into the couch without pulling apart. They kiss until Adam is breathless and his mouth is tender and still, Michael peppers kisses on his face as he carries him to bed.

And through it all, archangels don't get married, so Adam should really stop thinking about it. He cannot stop thinking about it, hasn't been able since he let the comment slip out. Archangels aren't supposed to french either, he reasons, and after everything they've gone through Michael isn't likely to have any real objections. He, however, probably won't understand it. And Adam wants him to understand. Growing up he knew he wanted to get married one day, he didn't want to be like John Winchester. Of course, back then he had a different idea of just about everything, but that's one thing that hasn't changed even if just about everything about it has. Because the person, the angel he'd like to marry is the first archangel no less. But he's learned about kissing and electric kettles and walking places versus flying, so Adam will be damned again if he doesn't at least try it.

So he coaxes Michael into staying home when he goes out today. They snog at the door for entirely too long, and still Adam thinks it was just this side of too easy. Maybe he's been to clingy. Right, clingy to the man who cannot wait for him to wake up every day. It's probably just his nervousness making him secondguess himself, and he shoves all that to the back of his head when he walks into the jewellery shop. He knows what he wants, and he's got the advantage of having the same ringsize as Michael. The thought gets a small laugh out of him, but the jeweller just gives him a knowing look, and what's to say he's not besides himself with joy at the whole affair, rather than finding yet another silverlining on the whole angelic possession to Lucifer's cage speedrun. He walks out a couple of hours later with a flawless round cut in a classic yellow band.

Walking back home, he's still not sure what he will say but that doesn't trouble him. The mere concept of the pair of them not understanding each other is risible. Maybe he'll cook them something. Michael likes very few human meals and, since he's introduced him to them, he knows how to make them. He makes a stop first for a bottle of champagne and then, in an inspired gesture, for a bouquet of asters. He imagined he'd be nervous, but he's brimming with anticipation as he closes the door behind him, calls out, 'Michael?'

'Wait there!'

His voice is tense, but not in a dangerous way, so Adam takes off his shoes and lingers. It's getting dark, and he'd have turned on the lights, but the archangel doesn't need them. Then again, he has a tendency to burn the bulbs out under distress. 'Alright. Is everything okay?'

'Everything's great! Did you have fun?'

'Lots. But I missed you more.'

'Me too!' When he zaps right in front of Adam, the archangel looks pleased, if a bit weary. He wastes no time before he's giving him a short, sensuous kiss and resting his chin on his shoulder. Adam lays his hands on the small of his back, taking in his scent like autumn flowers and lightning and. Burnt fabric. 'Is something burning?'

'It's not!' Michael steps back to take his hand as he walks towards the living room. 'Come on, I put it out already.'

'Are you okay?'

'I am.' He kisses the corner of Adam's mouth, something he does when he doesn't want to get distracted from what he's saying. 'I made grilled cheese sandwiches.'

'And I've got champagne!'

Michael materialises an array of coupes and flutes in the table, already holding a stack of the aforementioned sandwiches and a bowl of tomato soup and, as a delayed explanation for the darkness in the foyer, a considerable amount of candles. Adam sneaks a glance at their router which is still flashing its connection and he's relieved the archangel didn't overload the grid whilst he was gone. Michael is charmed by the flowers, setting them in a vase next to the candles but not within burning range. Probably. The grilled cheese is actually great, but the angel prefers the wine. He's glowing, telling Adam how he did burn a potholder but has restored it to its original state.

After their meal, they have the rest of the bottle in the living room and Adam is looking for a segue into his point when, of course, Michael seems to read his mind. His eyes flicker down before meeting the human's again, fierce and burning with love. 'I've thought about what you said, when you came back to me.'

'Yes.' He sighs, relieved. Then he realises he still doesn't know how he's going to explain any of it. He stalls. 'Fiance is French of course, but betrothed is not really used these days.' Michael raises an eyebrow at that. Adam pushes through it. 'Humans get married when they're in love. Not everyone who's in love gets married, though, it's sort of a case by case thing.'

'I know, marriage was sanctioned by heaven. Some marriages.' He tilts his head with a sceptic smile at that. Adam can't believe himself, how didn't he think of the religious component of the thing? Michael reaches for his hand. 'But I understand, this is not about heaven. Maybe I should say this is about hell. But maybe it's about the heaven you unfurl when you're with me.'

Michael presses a long kiss to the human's knuckles, and then he's taking a knee. The part of Adam's brain that understands what's happening has him transfixed in ecstasy. The part that hasn't caught up is mostly baffled by the archangel kneeling at his feet. He finds his voice has left him for good, but it doesn't matter because Michael continues steadfast. 'I'm not sure I'll ever understand what it's about, but there's nothing that would make me happier than trying to. With you. I love you, Adam, I- I want to marry you, may I?'

Adam's voicebox is still a deadzone but he nods overemphatically, joining the angel on the ground, crashing their mouths together and that's when his voice returns, conveniently, in the way of a stifled sob. He's laughing through the tears that follow when he pulls apart, shaking his head to help clear it. 'You can marry me any time you want, I-' He breaks off, fighting down his overjoyed giggles so he can continue. 'I even got you a ring.'

He fishes it out and slides it on Michael's finger, who lets out a shaky breath when it's in place and examines at it with a confused smile. He gets a glistening silver-white band from his pocket. 'I thought I was meant to give you this at the ceremony?'

'No way!' Or maybe he was? No, that's what the bands are for. But it looks like a band. Unimportant. 'Put it on, Michael, come on!'

He gives him the type of fond look that signifies he's being rather human, and Adam never wants him to look away. He extends his hand and the angel obeys. It's cold like glass against his skin and he loves it. Michael looks positively complacent once it's on, and he knows his wearing a nearly identical, if more watery, grin in his own face. Now that he's got the 'yes' out, the tears continue to overflow. Michael thumbs them away in such a tender way he gets a hold of it long enough to lean in and whisper a choked 'Love you, love you' before he's half kissing half tackling him on his back.

#midam #midam fanfiction #tropetember #michaelmas #it's adam day!#im tired but happy #midamap2023 #doubles as day one bc of the band! silver! unless it doesn't in which case just lmk and i'll take it off the tag ♡

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