[ WP ] Two people fall in love and are soulmates . But their designated guardian angel 's hate each other . Their cupids just have a laugh about it in the corner .

Caleb let his body go limp, and heard the sound of wings. It was feather-soft, near inaudible, the barest brush of air against his ear drums, along his jaw, across his face. There was someone giggling in the corner, a whole bunch of someones, and Caleb could open his mouth and feel the giggles drifting across his tongue, his lips, and wondered if maybe that meant it was him doing it. His jaw hung open, drifting, tenuously attached to the rest of his body. 
 
 `` I love you,'' he said, and looked to the air, and there were the wings batting at each other dizzyingly, building into a squall, his heart revving up feather-fast like a hummingbird, and then there were strong fingers pressing into his jaw and his head being tilted up and Brad's eyes looking into his. 
 
 `` Focus on my voice,'' Brad said, speaking at a distance, and the wings were flying away and the feathers unclouding the sky and there were the five points of contact anchoring his jaw and Caleb was slowly coming back. `` Look at me. Focus on my voice. Look at me.'' 
 
 `` Yuh-yes,'' Caleb got out, his body slowly pulsing back into existence around him. Blood flowing. Muscles straining. He hurt. His wrists were hanging limply in the cuffs. The lines across his back burned, marking out the anchor points where wings would have connected. He wondered where the wings were now, if they were flying free without him. 
 
 `` You were floating,'' Brad said with a grin. His hand moved up the side of Caleb's face and tenderly closed on his hair. Caleb tilted his head skyward, listening like a prophet. 
 
 `` Flying,'' he corrected automatically, and then remembered himself and blushed. Brad squatted down in front of him, leather squeaking. `` I - I heard the angels,'' he confessed. 
 
 `` Angels?'' Brad said, and quirked an eyebrow. `` That's a first for me. Do n't worry,'' he said quickly, noticing Caleb's attempts to stay in position. `` We're taking a break. How's the pain? You hungry? Thirsty? What about those angels, then?'' 
 
 Caleb let himself slump, the burning working its way across his back until the entire thing was a glowing mass of lines. `` It's good,'' he said. `` Good, good, good.'' He was warm. He was alive. `` I was very religious growing up,'' he said. `` Still am, really.'' 
 
 `` A fine tradition for that,'' Brad said, amused. There was the rich dark undercurrent in his voice, and Caleb licked his lips. `` Jesus on the cross. Bet that got to you, huh?'' The tip of the crop tapped a nerve in his thigh and Caleb flinched. `` Naughty boy.'' 
 
 `` God became man,'' Caleb said. `` Flesh and blood. All animating spirit.'' He touched his head to Brad's boot and his hair hung down wet around his face, brushing against the leather. `` I'd pray for the Holy Spirit to come down into me.'' He lightly kissed the boot and tasted salt. `` Angels. Cupids. Christ on the cross. All these - it was n't sound theology. Just, when I'm thinking back on it now. That's what I prayed for. Some spirit to guide me, save me, make me fall in love, swoop down like fire and carry me away.'' 
 
 With an effort he pulled himself back up, leaned backward, exposing his chest and throat. Caleb's eyes rolled up into his head. `` I had to believe,'' he said, dreamily, `` that God wanted me to be happy.'' 
 
 Brad was grounded, feet tapping against the ground, quick violent strides. Swift and wingless. The crop tapped at Caleb's shoulders, temple, throat, guiding him back into position. `` You believe that God wanted this for you?'' Brad said, and there was the sneer, the distinct twist of cruelty in it. 
 
 `` Yes?'' Caleb said, and giggled. `` Or no.'' He set his shoulders, forced his spine into a straight line. `` My guardian angel's got to hate you.'' 
 
 `` He ought to,'' Brad said softly, and then his hand was on Caleb's face, fingers digging into his jaw. `` Jesus came down from Heaven to see what he was missing. No goddamn angel could give us that.'' He pressed his lips, his teeth, against Caleb's scalp, brushing up against the skull. `` You're so fucking beautiful. All flesh and blood. The most beautiful goddamn thing in the world.'' 
 
 And Caleb felt the feather touch dragging feverishly across his skin, all slick and weighted down with blood and spit and sweat, clinging to him as if they could no longer imagine flight, and in all the corners of the room, yes, yes, there was definitely someone laughing.
