As Paul spoke so softly, reached out and touched him, so gentle and relaxed and<i>wrong</i>, Gabriel decided he definitely didn't like it.  This wasn't Paul, not his wonderful master with a smile like a knife and hands that ripped him apart and pieced him back together; this was<i>fake</i>, shallow and plastic and hideous.<br/><br/>He was silent as Paul stroked at him, just stared at the other with an uncertain, uneasy feeling.  Was Paul punishing him, for being so unlike himself...?  Was this retribution...?  It was strange and cruel, and the young man grew more and more puzzled, more alarmed.<br/><br/><i>Sweetheart</i>.  The word almost made Gabriel flinch; he didn't move, immobile as stone, but he blinked those glassy green eyes in surprise.  His stomach knotted a little, anxious-- why?  Why was he calling him that?  Paul never called him that...  He was Paul's boy, his angel, not his sweetheart.  His cheek was cool under Paul's fingers, the heat blanched from the pale skin, and for once, he wanted to pull back.<br/><br/>Gabriel remained still and quiet, just looking at Paul quizzically for a few moments, before finally answering him-- there was no choice not to.  "I made no wishes, sir...  I have nothing to wish for."  Not true, but now was not the time to say the truth; right now, Gabriel felt dangerously close to losing Paul, wished he'd kept his mouth shut and simply behaved like he knew he should've...  They could both be in bliss right now, instead of this perilous situation.<br/><br/>The boy shifted, stretching to see Paul better, and asked hesitatingly, "Are you angry with me, sir...?  I promise to behave...  I am your angel, always..."  Paul had managed to push a button, to find a potential weakness in Gabriel's seemingly impervious serenity; Gabriel hated himself for revealing it, for letting Paul see beneath that calm surface, but he couldn't help but be afraid that the man might not want him anymore after this...  And that was not something Gabriel could take.  Anything but that.