Only barely could Malthael make out Nitharael's shape, huddled behind him to the left. Perparations to return to the High Heavens were being made, but for now they could not be forfilled. Despite being somewhat small, the camp that the Angiris Council had made was plenty big enough for all six Archangels to be comfortable in. By firelight, Nitharael pored over her scrolls, just as Malthael, by firelight, rested his tired body, allowing his royal purple wings to droop to the ground and his tense shoulders to go lax. Somehow, Malthael caught his eyes straying to the other's wings-such a beautiful, sleek crimson color. He shook his head and focused his gaze across the horizon. Damn her and her wings. Again, his eyes wandered to her, but simply to observe her whole body-slender, beautiful, even petite, and yet he knew she was still dangerous. A ruffle of her wings as she shuffled some of the scrolls she held snapped Wisdom to reality once more, and he stole his gaze away, with difficulty, from her to stare at the darkened sky, to look at the still twinkling, long-dead stars. Damn her. The knowledge that he could never have her stung him like the bite of a demon's sword, but he knew it well to be true. Regardless, public displays of affection were frowned upon, and how else would he have a chance? Bluntly tell her, "I like you?"
He shook his head lightly. He would have to accept that all they could be was friends.
Unless they were alone. In a tent.
He, however, hurridly pushed this thought from his mind. Such nonsense... thinking about anything like that, let alone trying to love someone.
Again, he turned his head, just so he could barely see her out of the corner of his eye.
He would observe her like this. And that he did, watching as she huffed, shuffled the documents, and began reading another, her body's movements graceful and attractive.
He only hoped this would not result in any... excitment.
All other Archangels, save for himself and Nitharael, had drifted to sleep in their tents.
So they were, in essence, alone.
He could feel his wings involentarily raise slightly at this (This is called a wing boner, and it is when male angels get... excited, and their bodies decide to take their toll. It is characterized by the wings being raised and stiffening. As well as this, male angels will also get normal boners, too). He hastily ruffled them, trying in vain to look as if he was not, in fact, getting excited over thoughts, but instead relaxing his wings more.
It was a good thing Nitharael didn't see, as he did a very poor job at this.
Again, the little voice in the back of his mind said, you're alone.
Again, his wings raised, and by now Wisdom was blushing profusedly. Damn being male.
Shut up, he scolded the voice, but it paid him no heed.
You could bang her and be done with it.
Shut up!
With each thought from the voice, his wings would raise a tiny bit more. His entire face was lit up with heat, and he hunched over awkwardly so any evidence of excitment in his lower body would be concealed by his shadow. Damn her.
As soon as the words were thought, the same Archangel made her way over to gently sit herself next to Malthael on the large stone at the edge of the flames. "You alright?" She asked. Normally, Malthael was a calm person, always speaking in smooth sentences, but now he was incredibly flustered. "H-Hm?" He responded very quickly, his normally smooth voice cracking, only making him blush more. "I-I'm fine, Nitharael-!"
Nitharael gave him a skeptical look, running a hand over his unusually stiff wings. This caused her eyebrows to shoot up. "... Malthael? What's going on?"
Malthael cursed mentally and bit his lip. Damn being male.
"N-Nothing," Malthael responded, his voice raspy and even a little high-pitched.
Again, Nitharael ran a gauntlet down Malthael's stiff wings. "Explain this, then."
"St-stress, Nitharael, stress."
"You act as if I am newborn-I know how a man's body works. You're clearly having a wing boner. Anywhere else that displays your excitment?" Nitharael responded, and her dark eyes flicked momentarily down to his lap. Malthael's blush darkened, and at that moment, he wished he could dissappear. Subconsciously, his left hand reached to stroke Nitharael's wings, which lightly shuddered under his touch. It was a habit for him, to stroke her wings. He then sighed, turning on the rock to face her. Gingerly, he pulled her to sit in his lap, biting his lip rather hard as his member presed against the inside of her thigh. His wings, among other things, grew stiffer.
For a moment, they only looked at each other silently, female and male, Life and Wisdom.
And then his fingers found her chin, and he pulled her face gently forward, as he leant forward, and he kissed her.
For a few moments, Nitharael was frozen in shock. Malthael's lips were cold, but they offered a gentleness and warmth that could not be explained. He snaked his right arm around Nitharael's waist as he kissed her, his lips gently tugging at hers, prompting her to kiss back, his wings incredibly stiff by now. Nitharael placed a hand on his chest, leaning into him, and slowly began to kiss him back, letting her wings relax and droop around Malthael. For what seemed like an eternity, they kissed, Nitharael having closed her eyes. Finally, they broke away from each other, and Nitharael rested her head meekly against Malthael's neck, panting slightly. She shifted, and Malthael let out a little grunt, and now more than ever could Nitharael feel his member against the inside of her thigh, now farther up. For a few moments, save for their gentle panting, the pair was silent. Then, Malthael let three of his fingers gently sweep across Nitharael's cheek. They were cold, but it was a gentle, loving gesture. "I love you," He murmured, his voice a flustered rumble. Now he wrapped his stiff wings around her, and lifted her chin with his fingers so he could look her in the eyes, his lliac pools meeting her crimsons. "Tell me, Nitharael; do you love me?"
Nitharael silently nodded, murmuring, "I do, Malthael. I love you, too."
And they kissed again, their wings entertwining themselves, creating a deep mauve color. They were alone, they could show all the affection they wanted. In time, Malthael had her pinned down to the rock, but instead of doing anything to her, he merly laid on top of her, purring, his face next to hers. They fell asleep like that-Malthael draped across Nitharael like a blanket, she purring, her face in his neck, arms around him, wings tangled with his.

Auriel and Imperius were the first two to awake. Upon exiting their tent, Auriel was the first to notice the twin black shapes. She floated up a few inches, and saw that it was none other than Malthael and Nitharael. Imperius followed suit, scoffing at the pair. Auriel, however, smiled. "I knew it would happen... I was simply waiting for it."
Again, Imperius scoffed. Auriel gently entrapped his hand in her own. "Aren't they adorable?"
Imperius only harrumphed. Auriel giggled at this, pecking his cheek. "I love you."
Her lover exhaled a huff. "I love you too, Auriel... But why must they be so openly affectionate?"
"Oh, let them be, Imperius..."