The apartment door clicked shut behind them, muting the storm outside.
But the rain had followed in drops—trailing from their clothes, puddling on the floor, dripping from Ethan's hair as he leaned heavily against Gabriel.
Gabriel set the umbrella aside and guided him toward the couch. "Sit." His tone was firmer than before, not unkind, just certain.
Ethan obeyed, almost without thought, sinking into the cushions with a shiver that ran through his whole body.
Gabriel disappeared into the hall, then returned with two thick towels.
He dropped one over Ethan's head and began rubbing at his hair with the other. "You'll catch a fever if you stay like this."
Ethan peeked out from beneath the towel, lips quirking despite the tremor in them. "Bossy," he muttered, but his voice was softer than usual, stripped of its edge. He didn't resist when Gabriel bent lower, drying the wet strands clinging to his face.
Gabriel's hand lingered a fraction too long at his temple, pushing damp hair back. He pulled away quickly, clearing his throat. "Better?"
Ethan tilted his head, eyes narrowing with sudden determination.
Then he snatched the other towel from Gabriel's hands. "You're soaked too, Angel. You'll freeze before me." He scooted forward, pressing the towel to Gabriel's shoulders with more determination than skill. "Don't act like you're invincible."
Gabriel stilled, letting the boy fuss.
The towel dragged clumsily down his arm, over his chest, leaving behind a trail of warmth against damp fabric.
"You missed a spot," Gabriel said dryly.
Ethan's grin was crooked, almost mischievous. "Which one?"
Instead of answering, Gabriel reached out, tugging the towel from him and flipping it back over Ethan's head.
The boy's muffled protest filled the room, half-laugh, half-indignant.
When Ethan finally pushed the towel off, their faces were close too close.
The laughter slipped out of him like a hiccup, catching in his throat.
For a moment, neither of them moved. Drops still clung to Gabriel's lashes.
Ethan could feel the damp heat radiating between them, the scent of rain and fabric softener mixing in the air.
His hand, still gripping the edge of Gabriel's towel, didn't fall away.
"Angel…" Ethan's voice had changed again—quieter now, uncertain, as if the word carried weight he hadn't meant to give it.
Gabriel's gaze lingered on him, steady, unreadable, though his pulse betrayed him in the silence. He finally spoke, low and even. "You should change into dry clothes."
Ethan smirked faintly, but it lacked its usual bite. "You're avoiding something."
Gabriel didn't answer. He only straightened, setting the towel aside and moving toward the wardrobe.
But the spark lingered, undeniable, humming in the air between them like a secret neither had the courage to voice.
Gabriel returned from his room with a folded set of clothes—dark sweatpants and a plain shirt.
He held them out. "Here. They'll be loose, but better than staying wet."
Ethan took them, brushing his fingers lightly against Gabriel's hand on purpose. "Thanks, Angel," he murmured, the name rolling lazily off his tongue.
He tugged the shirt over his head, the hem hanging almost to his thighs.
The sleeves swallowed his wrists, making him look younger, smaller, almost fragile—though the smirk he threw Gabriel killed that illusion instantly. "Guess I'll drown in your clothes before I drown in the rain."
Gabriel's mouth twitched, but he didn't reply. He only crossed his arms, leaning against the wall, watching.
Ethan shifted, tugging at the waistband of the sweatpants that threatened to slide down his hips. "You don't have a belt, do you?" he teased, stepping closer, too casual for the space he was eating up.
Gabriel stayed still, though his jaw tightened. "They'll do for tonight."
Ethan's grin widened. "You mean I get to spend the night here?"
Gabriel looked at him sharply, but Ethan's expression wasn't mocking—just playful, soft at the edges.
For once, the boy wasn't pushing, only… lingering.
Their eyes locked. The rain outside had dulled into a steady hum, leaving the room wrapped in hush.
Ethan tilted his head slightly, studying Gabriel with that infuriating, disarming curiosity, as if he could peel away the layers just by staring long enough.
The space between them thinned. Ethan's hand, still fiddling with the waistband, stilled.
He leaned in—just a breath, just enough for Gabriel to catch the faint warmth of his skin.
Gabriel didn't move away. His throat bobbed once, betraying him.
For a fleeting second, the world shrank to nothing but Ethan's damp hair, his too-big shirt, and the spark dancing recklessly in his eyes.
Ethan's lips curved, close enough that Gabriel could feel the smile rather than see it. "What's wrong, Angel?" he whispered. "Scared I'll kiss you again?"
Gabriel's breath hitched, though his voice stayed level. "You should get some rest."
He stepped back—abrupt, like breaking free of a tether.
The air between them stretched again, though the charge in it lingered stubbornly.
Ethan leaned against the arm of the couch, watching him retreat. His grin returned, softer this time, almost thoughtful. "One of these days, Angel… you won't look away."
Gabriel didn't respond, only turned his back, but his grip on the towel in his hand had gone white-knuckled.
The rain still drummed against the glass, steady but softer now, a lullaby for the restless city.
Gabriel had settled into the chair by the window, his posture disciplined, arms crossed, gaze fixed outside.
Ethan, too restless to sit still, lingered near the couch, watching him from the corner of his eye.
Finally, Ethan broke the silence. "So… Angel, huh? Am I really stuck calling you that forever?"
Gabriel didn't glance back. "You chose it."
"Yeah, but you've been answering to it." Ethan smirked, shifting closer, draping himself lazily over the couch arm. "If you hated it, you'd have shut me up by now. Which means… you secretly like it."
Gabriel's jaw ticked, but no answer came. That alone was enough to make Ethan grin wider.
He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "Alright then. What's your real name?"
The silence stretched, and for a moment Ethan thought he'd get nothing. Then, low and even, Gabriel replied, "Gabriel."
Ethan froze, then let out a disbelieving laugh. "No way. No...no, you're kidding. Seriously?"
Gabriel finally turned, brow raised, expression unreadable. "Does it look like I'm joking?"
Ethan's eyes lit up, the grin spreading until it threatened to split his face. "Oh my God. Angel Gabriel. The actual Angel Gabriel. Wow." He clutched his chest dramatically, tilting his head back. "God must really love me, huh? Sends His messenger right down to rescue me Himself." He pressed his palms together in mock prayer. "I'm blessed. Truly blessed."
Gabriel shook his head, turning back toward the window, though the corners of his mouth twitched almost imperceptibly.
Ethan caught it and pounced. "Wait...wait...was that a smile? Did I just witness a miracle?" He slid off the couch, crouching beside Gabriel's chair like a mischievous child. "Come on, Angel, don't hold back now. Laugh. I won't tell anyone you're secretly human."
Gabriel exhaled slowly through his nose, trying for composure, but Ethan leaned in closer, eyes wide with faux reverence. "You know, I was right from the start. Love at first sight. Who else could it be but the Angel Gabriel himself?"
That did it.
A short, sharp sound escaped Gabriel before he could clamp it down—a laugh, low and unpolished, as if unused for too long.
He covered it quickly with a hand, but Ethan had already heard it.
His face lit up like fireworks. "There it is! Oh, this is gold. My life is complete." He leaned back on his heels, grinning so wide it almost hurt. "I made the Angel laugh."
Gabriel gave him a look equal parts warning and weary resignation, but something in his gaze had softened.
The edges weren't so sharp anymore.
Ethan, still buzzing from victory, leaned his chin into his palm, eyes dancing. "Careful, Angel. Keep this up, and I'll start believing you were sent just for me."
Gabriel didn't reply. But he didn't tell him to shut up either.
And in the quiet, Ethan let himself think just for tonight that maybe he wasn't entirely wrong.
The laugh still hung in the air like a secret they weren't supposed to share.
Gabriel leaned back in his chair, rubbing at his jaw as if to erase it, but Ethan just sat there on the floor, staring at him like he'd witnessed the rarest miracle.
"You know," Ethan said, voice dropping softer now, "I didn't think you could laugh. Thought you were carved from stone or something. But..." He leaned closer, eyes shining. "Turns out you're human after all."
Gabriel didn't answer, only reached for the half-dried towel and set it over his own shoulders.
His silence was armor, but it didn't make Ethan retreat. If anything, it pulled him closer.
When Gabriel finally rose, moving toward the bed, Ethan watched every step with exaggerated suspicion. "Ohhh, I see. Angel gets the bed. And I, the poor injured guest, get…" He swept an arm dramatically toward the floor. "This royal patch of hardwood. Truly, what generosity."
Gabriel paused, back half-turned, voice flat. "Blankets are there. Take them or don't."
Ethan groaned, throwing himself down onto the floor with a theatrical thud, clutching the blanket like it was betrayal itself. "Never in my life did I think I'd end up like this. Ace, the great one, sleeping on a stranger's floor." He peeked up at Gabriel, who was straightening the sheets with maddening precision. "Not just any stranger, though. Angel Gabriel himself. God really has a sense of humor."
Gabriel cut him a look sharp, warning but Ethan only grinned wider.
Silence stretched, broken only by the soft rain tapping the window.
Ethan shifted on the blanket, muttering, "Too hard… way too hard…" He rolled over dramatically. "I think my back just snapped."
Gabriel sighed, long and low. "Stop complaining."
"I'm not complaining, I'm dying," Ethan shot back, muffled under the blanket. "Huge difference."
For a moment, it seemed Gabriel would ignore him.
Then maybe out of pity, maybe something else he spoke quietly, "You'll survive one night."
Ethan peeked over the blanket, meeting Gabriel's gaze in the dim light.
Something unspoken passed between them—closer than annoyance, warmer than tolerance.
Ethan smirked faintly, whispering, "Guess I'll stay alive then. Can't let my angel down."
Gabriel looked away first, lying back on the bed, eyes fixed on the ceiling.
But Ethan didn't miss the way his shoulders eased, just slightly.
And there, in the hush of rain and dim light, with Gabriel's laugh still echoing in his memory, Ethan finally let his eyes close—smiling to himself as if he'd already won.