Each time they come together like this or share their feelings with one another, the angel always manages to make Galahad feel lucky-- special in a way part of him wonders if he truly deserves. It's easy for the happiness he feels at being close to blot out any feelings of doubt though, each gentle touch or kiss his lover has for him taking away ever more scraps of the world around them.
Until there's nothing left but this moment, and the feeling of being held, cherished, and celebrated.
His fingers trail softly through the angel's hair as Beelzebub touches his face, eventually coming down to run lightly over the soft down at the base of one of the other man's wings. He doesn't go further than that, instead circling his arms around the angel's chest to simply hold him close in the warmth and safety of his arms. He can feel the other man's presence all around him now, down to the subtle heat radiating from the necklace Beelzebub had gifted him. It's comfortable, to the extent that Galahad feels sure he could happily fall asleep here just like this if it came to that.
"That's one thing I've always felt," he murmurs, letting his words trail off into a comfortable silence as he chooses his next ones carefully. "That whatever the divine may say on it, love is divine in and of itself. It is its own good and its own end." It's why he holds Beelzebub here now and keeps drawing him closer as their days together continue on, even if the closeness between can't cross the bounds of the pure. His God has mandates who and how people may love, but this is the one uncertainty Galahad has always held onto and the lone place where his faith has harbored the smallest of cracks (cracks where love and affection can, and now have, slipped through). "If love is why you fell, then I think you fell righteously."
no subject
Until there's nothing left but this moment, and the feeling of being held, cherished, and celebrated.
His fingers trail softly through the angel's hair as Beelzebub touches his face, eventually coming down to run lightly over the soft down at the base of one of the other man's wings. He doesn't go further than that, instead circling his arms around the angel's chest to simply hold him close in the warmth and safety of his arms. He can feel the other man's presence all around him now, down to the subtle heat radiating from the necklace Beelzebub had gifted him. It's comfortable, to the extent that Galahad feels sure he could happily fall asleep here just like this if it came to that.
"That's one thing I've always felt," he murmurs, letting his words trail off into a comfortable silence as he chooses his next ones carefully. "That whatever the divine may say on it, love is divine in and of itself. It is its own good and its own end." It's why he holds Beelzebub here now and keeps drawing him closer as their days together continue on, even if the closeness between can't cross the bounds of the pure. His God has mandates who and how people may love, but this is the one uncertainty Galahad has always held onto and the lone place where his faith has harbored the smallest of cracks (cracks where love and affection can, and now have, slipped through). "If love is why you fell, then I think you fell righteously."