Paul was being so kind, so gracious and giving that it was nearly overwhelming; Gabriel barely knew what to do with himself, now that he could finally lay his hands and his lips on everything he'd dreamed of for so long...  He might have wept with joy, but instead focused on using this gift to the fullest, intent on seeking out every bit of Paul he could.<br/><br/><i>Bite me</i>.  Gabriel blinked, pausing in his worship to make sure he had understood correctly.  Paul wanted him to bite?  To leave his own marks on the man...?  To show the world that he was Gabriel's, just as the boy was Paul's...?  The idea was tantalizing, made him salivate as Paul gripped him tighter, but he waited until given further permission: he could take what he wanted, what he needed...  Yes...<br/><br/>A quiet, aching sound left Gabriel, pulled from deep in his chest, and he did as Paul asked.  The young man kissed the space where Paul's neck met his shoulder, and then dug his teeth in hard and fast; not quite enough to draw blood, but enough to bruise.  He ground them in, determined to leave a mark that would last, and held onto Paul tightly as he did so.  He wanted Paul to feel it, feel him, feel his need and desperation...<br/><br/>Another kiss, another vicious bite, this one harder as Gabriel grew into the new sensation of laying claim, of putting his mark on the other.  Paul was his, Paul was his lord and savior, Paul was his god, his protector and his undoing, his apocalypse...  Paul was his<i>everything</i>, and Gabriel would make sure the man knew it.<br/><br/>The boy kept at it, grinding his teeth into the beautiful body he loved, his fingernails sinking into the man's back to leave little red streaks wherever they roamed, and he tried not to tremble with ecstasy as he finally tasted the first drop of divine blood against his tongue.<br/><br/>He pulled back then, shiny crimson on his lips and smeared a little on the side of his face as he looked up at Paul, silently seeking approval: would he be angry?  Would he be pleased...?  Green eyes, wide and brilliant, sought out those dark mirrors they adored, and Gabriel stroked Paul's cheek again, soft as the gentlest brush of feathers.