#no fucking way am i maintagging this. if you find it you were lookin for it

[objectumnonsense]

a post (link) from @smutposting-ao3 unexpectedly gave me some inspiration and i banged this out (no pun intended) in like three hours (minus editing, which took. a considerable amount of time). content warnings for canon-typical gabriel shredding and some dubious consent

Sisyphus and V1's glaring contest was only broken by Gabriel physically stepping between them and clearing his throat. He turned to Sisyphus with his arms folded.

"What are you doing? I thought you said you liked it when you two met!"

"It started it!" he answered defensively, looking over Gabriel's head at it and frowning. He turned and glowered at it instead.

"Well?"

It signed several almost incomprehensible words in very quick succession, but Gabriel picked out "first loss beat bullshit" with a lot of accusatory pointing.

"...So he was the first thing you've ever lost to?"

It nodded, folding its arms.

Sisyphus laughed.

"That's all? No wonder you were such a sore loser then."

V1 unfolded its arms and looked ready to cuss him out again when Gabriel raised a hand to stop it.

"Enough, you two. We're not here for petty fighting."

V1 nodded eagerly when it heard the word "fighting" and started flipping a coin in one of its blue hands. Gabriel shot it a glare.

"Put that away. We still have to go over rules before we get started."

It rolled its eye, but obliged him, and he turned to address Sisyphus.

"You're sure you're alright with this? It's going to be really intense. I don't want to upset you."

"Angel, I've seen horrors of war and battle the likes of which would make weaker men drop dead at the thought. Nothing you and the weapon do to each other can phase me."

Gabriel still looked doubtful, but nodded and continued.

"Machine, if I or Sisyphus says the safe word, you stop immediately. You remember what it is?"

It nodded and signed "server" before he could ask.

"Good. Of course you know murder is off the table, but besides that, anything goes. Sisyphus, you should probably stand out of the way."

He heeded his words and walked to the back end of the chapel, where he righted a fallen pew and sat down in it. He nodded and gave the pair a thumbs up.

"Perfect. Now, Machine," Gabriel's voice boomed throughout the enormous room, wings and halo manifesting in a burst of brilliant blue light as he unsheathed his swords, "prepare for a resounding defeat!"

Almost as soon as he finished speaking, V1 leapt forward in blur of blue and gold. What followed was a near incomprehensible exchanging of blows, so swift and powerful Sisyphus had trouble telling what was going on. Sawblades whirled, coins gleamed, swords slashed, and blood exploded from the place where the two met. It was a complex dance to a rhythm only the two fighters could hear, and the sheer, practiced brutality was utterly stunning.

An explosion from a rocket sent the pair flying away from each other, V1 hitting the ground rolling and Gabriel hitting the wall hard. V1 looked for the most part unharmed, besides a few deep scratches in its Knuckleblaster arm. Blood stained its plating, but was quickly absorbed.

Gabriel, on the other hand, looked much the worse for wear. A magnet protruded from his thigh, surrounded by dozens of half-buried nails; his left arm and stomach were bleeding openly onto the floor; still, he laughed ecstatically.

"Is that the best you've got?" he barked. "Come on, let's put on a real show!" To Sisyphus's utter shock, his wings and halo glowed brightly anew, dazzling azure with tinges of gold chasing away the dim light of Heresy.

V1 narrowed its eye at him. With a flick of its Whiplash arm, it attached itself to him, and the fight began again.

It was somehow even more bloody than the last clash, but Sisyphus could actually track Gabriel's movements this time. He kept up at first, but soon he began to lose - badly. The machine tore at him again and again while he barely managed to get a scratch on its plating. With each hit he took, a breathless laugh bubbled from his lips.

Finally, with a well-timed ricochet shot straight through his chest, Gabriel fell to the ground, wings unable to carry his weight any longer. Sisyphus stood and made to walk across the chapel to the two, believing the two to be done. Gabriel raised a shaky hand.

"Wait a second -"

His sentence was cut off by a pained shout as V1 leapt onto him. In the blink of an eye, it had broken the clasp of his chestplate and tossed it aside, exposing his torn skin. Sisyphus managed to catch a glimpse of several weeping bullet holes before V1's hands were all over Gabriel, fingers finding as many wounds as they could and burying themselves in them.

Gabriel arched with a cry like a wounded animal, squirming under V1's ravenous touch. It shifted to spread itself across his body, one thigh between his and the other hooked around his waist.

With an obscene squelch of tearing flesh, its Knuckleblaster claws dug into one of the wounds, exposing muscle and sinew and sending even more blood showering onto its plating and the floor below.

Gabriel howled - an unsettling, desperate sound - and V1 pressed itself into him. His hands scrabbled ineffectually at its sides, its back, anything he could reach. Sisyphus shifted his gaze slightly and noticed the shaky but steady motions of his hips against its thigh.

The Knuckleblaster had torn at Gabriel again in the moments Sisyphus had looked away. This time, it pushed into his side, deeper and deeper, until the claws were buried to, well, the knuckles. The air left his lungs in a long moan as it slowly dragged them down, leaving long, ugly gashes in their wake.

Surely the machine was fueled enough by now. Gabriel was practically bleeding out underneath it and it still took more.

A barely-audible "Ma- machine, please," was the only sign Gabriel was still conscious. His arms had dropped to his sides and his head lolled.

Apparently V1 knew what he wanted, because it started shifting its thigh, grinding against him where he was apparently too weak to.

"Th-thank you, thank you, ggh-!"

He barely managed a twitch of his hips when its hand - the Feedbacker, this time - started massaging his bleeding side with the same rhythm it was grinding on him. They kept at it for a few moments more before, with a weak gasp, Gabriel convulsed for a moment, then fell totally limp.

Surely it was done - but Gabriel had warned him beforehand, after all.

The machine shifted its position over him and settled itself between his thighs, all four arms grabbing and pushing and groping. With a click of metal, its panel slid aside and it wasted no time in grinding itself against his still-clothed crotch.

A cold pit grew in Sisyphus's gut. Gabriel was unconscious, or at best barely hanging on, judging by the way he gave no resistance to its manipulation. Was this a regular occurrence for the two? How much did he know about what happened to him after he passed out?

He stood.

"That's enough, weapon. Server."

It whipped its head around at his words, and for a moment, he was frozen in place by the sheer, animalistic fury in its gaze. The center ring of its optic was pin-narrow, while the outer ring was so wide as to almost not be visible. Its wings arched, one hand instinctively reaching halfway to its back.

But only for a moment. Its eye refocused, its hand lowered, and it stood and backed away, raising its empty palms in a surrendering gesture. Sisyphus noticed how tense he had suddenly become, and that his fists were half-raised.

He attempted to shake the heavy cloud of - fear? disgust? something unpleasant and cold- out of his head and approached Gabriel.

He knelt at his side, laying a hand on his chest. His heart beat faintly - thank the stars - and some of the smaller scratches on him were already starting to knit together. Still, Sisyphus couldn't shake the strange, bone-deep feeling of apprehension from himself.

Gabriel was fine. He would heal. He just needed to get him home. (He forced himself not to think of how many times he might have been left on the floor here after the machine was through with him.)

He retrieved Gabriel's chestplate from next to him, and with the other arm, scooped his body up.

He was definitely unconscious. (And was he always this small compared to him?) Sisyphus held him closer to his chest - just so he wouldn't fall - and turned to face the machine.

It had been eyeing the trail of dripping blood left behind by Gabriel being moved, but met his gaze when he stared at it. It sat stock still, body language unreadable, panel long since closed. Besides the excess blood drying on its plating, it showed few signs the encounter had ever taken place. (Damned thing. What right did it have to look so unbothered when it had almost - almost -)

Neither moved for a few moments. Sisyphus wasn't sure what to say, if anything at all. (What could he say?)

He settled for a terse nod, turned on his heel, and rushed out of the chapel. (His steps were not hurried with panic. He was calm. Gabriel was fine.)

He felt the machine's stare on the back of his head until he was out of its sight.