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Having Gabriel beneath you wasn't exactly uncommon, per se. But having him like this in particular is.
Laying prone on his stomach across the silken sheets of your shared bed, clad only in his skirt while you straddle the backs of his firm thighs. Hundreds of pounds of sheer divine strength and muscle, softened by a layer of fat that you find oh so alluring. You constantly find yourself having to resist the urge to grab a hold of his hips or grope his backside that you are unavoidably pressed up against as you lean forwards to rake your fingers through his feathers.
Ah yes, that's what you were in the middle of. Preening.
Gabriel's wings are spread wide, laying just as limply as the rest of him. You card your fingers through the thick plumage, brushing out loose feathers and debris to make room for the new growth. Gabriel shudders and whines when your fingertips graze over a pin feather. The sheath crumbles under your touch so you pinch and roll it between your fingers, sliding it down the rachis and allowing the vane to unfurl. You hum, brushing aside the flakes of keratin while the archangel shivers.
"Thank you, dearheart." He mewls, turning his face away from the pillow clutched in his hands.
You chuckle at the breathless quality in his voice, pressing the heel of your palm up and along his spine massaging the tense muscle beneath.
"You are very welcome. Besides your back feels about as solid as a column, and those pin feathers must itch." You coo.
Your angel laughs, still breathless, and the smile on his face is audible. "They are regretfully difficult to reach by myself. But your hands– ahh-hh..."
A wily smile settles across your lips at the waver in his voice. Both of your hands have slipped lower now, trailing along the gold embellishments until you stop at his lower back where they curve around his hips. You press your thumbs into his obliques, rubbing firm circles into his skin working your way outward.
Gabriel's feathers ruffle, turning pink at the tips. "D-Darling..."
"You were talking about my hands?" You press.
"They're divine!" He squeaks against the pillow. Gabriel is twice your size and infinitely stronger than you could ever be. He could simply roll over and throw you off, but instead you watch as he quivers, doing his best to stay still. There is an immense satisfaction to be taken in watching the musculature of his back tense and ripple. For the sake of being able to finish the task at hand you ease up on your teasing to allow Gabriel a moment of respite.
Your breath fans over his back in a deep sigh while you crane forward, massaging and working over the deep tissue beneath his onyx skin. Tense cords of muscle melt beneath your touch, and a particularly stubborn knot under his shoulder blade earns you a groan from his lips, then a satisfied grunt.
"Too much?" You ask.
"No, no. Not at all." He sighs.
You hum in acknowledgement and deftly trail down his back once more, shifting your weight on his thighs for the sake of both your circulation and his. "Just the last part now, love. Stay still for me." You croon. The tips of your fingers find the small inconspicuous bump just above the hip line of his skirt and the cleft of his ass, just where his tailbone lies beneath the skin. Gabriel stiffens again and half heartedly bites back a wordless noise of vulnerability as you massage the uropygial gland. Clear waxy oil coats your fingers. It's warm, and not unpleasant to touch, It reminds you of coconut oil with how it melts from just the heat of your hands. When you're satisfied with the amount you reach for one of his wings which Gabriel obediently extends into your lap. You once again comb through the thick plumage from the scapulars to the very tips of the primaries. Though Gabriel is most sensitive towards his back, where the thick base of bone and muscle join his lower spine.
It's where your touch elicits the most beautiful of noises from him, mewls and whimpers, little pleas of your name that fall into moans when you wrap your hand around the joint and squeeze. The archangel sobs when you drag your hands over the feathered limb a final time before letting it fall back to the bed, quivering. The outermost tips of Gabriel's feathers are now a pretty gradient going from soft blue, to pink, then gold.
"Hah... Love?" Gabriel calls shakily, propping himself up on his forearm and craning over his shoulder to look at you. His hair has fallen over his face clinging to it in a thin sheen of sweat and his bottom lip is bitten a deep shade of dark mauve which almost pairs with the flush on your cheeks.
"I still have yet to see to your other wing, angel. Patience." You answer as nonchalantly as you can manage turning your gaze back to your lap. A wavering moan escapes from Gabriel's throat as he crumples back into the pillow and raises his trembling, untouched wing towards you...