[The longer he does this the more he's aware of just what he is doing. Luke's entire body is like a tuning fork, humming to the resonance of the tone that Raphael is silently producing. He should be careful - too much and he could shatter under it - but he thinks he understands.
When Luke parts his lips and lets out that soft moan instead of speaking, the angel's eyes dart up to his face and across his features. He uses his free hand to gently brush the young man's hair away from his forehead, the touch lingering at his temple as he subtly alters the tone he's sending thrummimg through him.
It's not quite the light ringing from earlier or the bass hum that had forced Luke down onto his back, but something in between. As if there's a sweet spot that he's trying to find.]
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When Luke parts his lips and lets out that soft moan instead of speaking, the angel's eyes dart up to his face and across his features. He uses his free hand to gently brush the young man's hair away from his forehead, the touch lingering at his temple as he subtly alters the tone he's sending thrummimg through him.
It's not quite the light ringing from earlier or the bass hum that had forced Luke down onto his back, but something in between. As if there's a sweet spot that he's trying to find.]
How does it feel? [Raphael asks.] Try to tell me.