Robin

[whispersoflove]

Anael walked without aim in the streets of London, not like he usually did, to watch people and enjoy their love, but because he had had to get out of Coby's flat. He would probably go flying later, but for now, he was simply walking, shoulders hunched, that same muted pain in his back, from the wing he had still not healed since that blood-filled night.

The less he thought about it, the better, and yet he could not bring himself to heal his wing. Part of it was being afraid that God would not grant him that miracle, but he knew that it was more than that. He simply didn't want to look at it too closely.

He nearly walked by Robin without noticing him, sitting alone in a pub, at a table by the window. It seemed so odd, Robin being alone in any kind of social setting, that before he knew it, Anael had doubled back to walk into the pub, and headed over to the puck.

"Are you waiting for someone?" he asked, reassured, at least, that he felt no overwhelming heartbreak coming from him.

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[whispersoflove]

"No," Anael answered, and wanted to curl up against Robin and cry. But it was Robin. If anyone would hurt less from hurting him than from him hurting, it would be him. Anael could not push him into what he did not want, the way he had until now. One more reason for him to hurt. "But I want it," he added, shifting his injured wing for the pain to lance up.

[goodfellow]

"Take off your clothes," Robin said evenly.

[whispersoflove]

Anael took in a deep breath, and disappeared his wings long enough to easily get rid of his t-shirt. Then they came back, and he could feel his cheeks burning from the exposure of the brand between his collarbones. "Don't touch me here," he told Robin, his hand hovering over the sigil. He felt dirty, tainted and soiled. Ugly. He crouched to take care of his boots and socks. Then his jeans, and he was finally standing naked in front of Robin. Looking pained, already, his shoulders still hunched. Worse than that, looking defeated.

[goodfellow]

"Straighten up," Robin said sharply, and then slapped him across the face.

He was testing the waters.

[whispersoflove]

Anael let his face turn with the slap, on purpose. He could feel the sting, but it did not register as pain, just as sensations. He looked Robin in the eye, then straightened his shoulders. Every breath felt painful.

[goodfellow]

Robin met his eyes, but then slowly walked around behind him.

He reached out and grasped Anael's injured wing.

[whispersoflove]

The pain was so sharp and immediate that it made Anael's knees want to buckle. He managed to stop them at the last second, straightening up through the sharp hot white pain of it, huffing out a strained breath.

[goodfellow]

Robin dug a finger into the wound.

"You deserve this," he said quietly. "Don't you?"

[whispersoflove]

Anael's breath hitched, even as he fought to remain straight against the pain. "Yes," he admitted in a whisper.

[goodfellow]

Robin moved closer to him, slid his hand down the wing, digging nails in lower.

"Tell me why."

[whispersoflove]

Anael looked pained, for more than one reason. He wanted, desperately, for something to brace himself against, but the nearest piece of furniture was too far away. "Because I'm not worthy of God," he answered in a whisper, every word like a knell for his soul.

[goodfellow]

It took a great deal of willpower for Robin to not stop right then and tell Anael what an idiot he was being. But he knew that wasn't going to help him.

"Tell me why," he said instead, and dug the nails of his other hand into his other wing as he moved closer behind them so that he was speaking close to his ear.

[whispersoflove]

The nails on Anael's unharmed wing were like pinpricks on the edge of his sensations; an addition, but nothing overwhelming, far from it. Robin's hand on his injury was what remained at the fore of his consciousness, and he focused to speak through the pain.

He didn't want to answer Robin's question, but he wanted to be punished more.

"Because I disobeyed Them once," Anael replied. And then he couldn't stop talking, had to explain it all, urged on by the pain. "And now I'm doing what I swore I wouldn't again, for Them. But it's too late. I'm too late, and I don't deserve to be back in Heaven."

[goodfellow]

Robin dropped one hand and reeled back, smacking Anael hard on his ass, as his other continued digging into his wing.

"Tell me what you did."

[whispersoflove]

The smack made him gasp at the sensation, but then the pain of Robin's hand on his wing made him reel and moan, a sound that was almost like a sob. "I was - I defied Them," he said in something like a plea.

[goodfellow]

Robin let go and shoved Anael forward, hard, enough to push him up against the dresser. He smacked his ass again, harder this time, bending him over, and grasped his wing harder. "How."

[whispersoflove]

There was something freeing in letting himself be manhandled, letting it all happen. Anael caught himself against the dresser, looked his head over his shoulder at the slap, then hissed as it dropped forward again when Robin grabbed his wing. He didn't want to explain, how he had let God down. But he needed to. He ought to feel ashamed, unworthy. So the words came out in a rush of shameful truth. "I was one of Their generals. I vowed never to bear arms again. I refused to relent, repent."

[goodfellow]

It wasn't like Robin could help it, despite how difficult he was finding this. With Anael naked and moaning in front of him... He was hard as he pressed up against him again and grabbed his other wing.

"And now? Tell me what you've done."

[whispersoflove]

"Please," Anael found himself pleading, fingers spread on top of the dresser, knuckles white. "Robin, please. Hurt me. Hurt me until I can't bear it."

[goodfellow]

"You didn't answer my question," said Robin evenly, and kicked Anael's legs apart so that his stance was wider, more unstable, and smacked him hard again.

[whispersoflove]

Anael clenched his jaw - not against any pain, but in frustration. He didn't want to say it, and he could feel his cheeks heat up with the shame of it. "I've killed. Righteous killing. What They would have wanted."

But he was still here, and now he hated himself, and couldn't stop the sob from working its way past his throat.

[goodfellow]

"You must not really think it was what they wanted, if you're so convinced you're being punished for it," Robin pointed out, and shoved Anael's cheek down against the dresser.

[whispersoflove]

Anael resisted the urge to stand back up, and let Robin press him down, the quickly suppressed rise of his temper serving to halt his sobs before they really started. He deserved it, all of it. "Too little too late," he muttered.

[goodfellow]

Now that he'd gotten at least part of the story, Robin thought that it was all bullshit. He didn't think that Anael had done anything that deserved punishment - at least not from God. But if it helped him to get it from elsewhere...

"You're right," said Robin. "You've been very bad."

He had to stretch a little to reach it, but a moment later he was holding a hairbrush. One hand still on Anael's head to hold him down against the dresser, he swung and smacked him across the ass with it, hard, enough to send his body slamming against the dresser.

[whispersoflove]

Anael took the hit, slammed against the dresser, and did not feel any pain. "Robin. Please."