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On the Eighth Day

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Metatron sighed as he approached the viewing area; someone was already there. He just wanted to be alone, to lose himself in the mundanity of humanity, possibly even get a good laugh. He needed a good laugh. Dealing with the minutia of being the Voice of God was trying at the best of times, and these were not the best of times. They'd been dealing with the fallout from Bartelby and Loki's deaths for days, and there seemed to be no end in sight. She had decided that it was time for a change in the laws governing the Angels so that nothing like it could happen again.

As he got closer, he recognized the other person. "Apostle."

Rufus jumped and turned around to face Metatron. "Fuck, I hate when you do that!" He moved to let Metatron access the viewing area. "And stop calling me 'Apostle.'"

Metaron's eyebrow quirked, but he didn't say anything. He looked down at the spot where the Apostle-- err, Rufus, had been looking. Bethany was back in Chicago, and it looked like she was browsing through a baby store. She picked up a small pink dress and showed it off to her friend. Her happiness was contagious, and he smiled in spite of himself. He turned back to Rufus. "Been here long?"

"Long, nah. I just got here," Rufus denied a little too emphatically.

"Oh, really?"

Rufus scowled. "What the fuck else am I supposed to do but watch the living?"

"I don't know." Metatron paused. Well, there was one thing that he could think of. Something that might almost make all the pain of the past few weeks worthwhile. "We could go drinking."

"And watch you spit your tequila out? No, thanks," Rufus said with a shake of his head.

"Actually, I can drink alcohol now. I just can't get drunk."

"One of the new laws?"

"One of the many," he sighed.

"Fuck, then we should definitely go drinking." Rufus pushed off the railing. "And none of that lame shit like where you took Bethany."

Metatron nodded. There were quite a few places that they could go for drinks. "I think I know of someplace of which you would approve." He snapped his fingers, and they popped into existence on the Las Vegas Strip.

"Holy shit, Vegas."

"One of the more amusing places, I admit," Metatron said. The Strip bustled with people and was alight in all its brilliant and sometimes gaudy colors.

"Hey, we won't get in trouble for being in Sin City, will we?"

"Only if we misbehave." Metatron laughed at Rufus' incredulous expression. "I think we'll find ways to amuse ourselves."

"So where's the tequila?"

"This way," Metatron said as he led them past the pirate ship, up the walkway, and into Treasure Island. As they entered the casino, a tall, voluptuous redhead brushed against them as she exited.

Rufus stopped to stare. "God damn," he said quietly.

Metatron raised an eyebrow.

"Sorry," Rufus said as he glanced up in the direction of Heaven. He turned back to Metatron. "Was that a real Siren?"

"Looked like it," Metatron said as he glanced back over his shoulder at the woman in question.

"Damn, why are all the pretty ones evil?"

Metatron shook his head in disgust. He continued into the casino, easily navigating around the slot machines and the blackjack tables. They entered the bar and paused. In front of them was a wall of tequila -- bottles were from all over the world and in all different flavors.

"We're going to have to try one of each," Rufus said almost reverently.

The waitress rolled her eyes as she approached them, and Metatron got the distinct impression that she had heard that many times before. "Don't worry, we can hold our liquor," he tried to reassure her.

"Plus, he has some catching up to do." Rufus slid into the booth that the waitress indicated. "Bring four shots at time until you run out of new ones."

Metatron nodded in agreement, and the waitress left to fill their order.

"So, why are you Oscar the Grouch?"

"Bureaucracy is hell."

"Ain't that the truth." Rufus paused as the waitress reappeared with their first set. He picked one up and tossed it back. "But the changes are all for the better, right?"

Metatron eyed the glasses in front of him, and then just decided to choose one at random and slammed it down. His eyes began to water. He had forgotten how it burned going down. "Of course they are. She was greatly affected by Bartelby and Loki's death."

"So, again I ask why you look like someone ran over your dog."

Metatron snorted. "Besides the bureaucracy of changing laws and the natures of things that have been that way for millennia?"

"Yeah," Rufus nodded. He picked up another shot glass and promptly drank it down.

Metatron stopped to consider for a moment. He picked up a glass and twirled the tequila around. "There are some...traditionalists, they don't want things to change. They're happy with the status quo." He took a sip.

"I thought drinking was allowed in the past. Wasn't that one of things that got Loki in trouble in the first place?"

"It was. No, it's the other thing that they're upset about."

"What other thing?"

"You haven't heard?"

"I haven't been paying that much attention to what was going on."

Leaning over, Metatron whispered into Rufus' ear, "She made us fully functional."

"Fully functional?"

Metatron looked around the bar, hoping that no one was paying attention. "I'm no longer a Ken doll."

"Shit, why are we out here drinking? We should be getting you laid." Rufus drank the last of his tequila. "Which do you prefer, women or men?"

Metatron looked around the bar. He didn't know if he had a preference. For millennia they had all lacked definition, so it hadn't mattered one way or the other. All that mattered was the individual. Now that they had genitalia, he had no idea what he liked. "I... don't know."

"Well, I can settle that for you." Rufus leaned over and kissed him.

Metatron gasped in surprise, and Rufus's tongue slid in. His eyes drifted close, and he began to kiss Rufus back. It was slow exploration at first, but quickly became more passionate. Stifling a groan, he wondered why he had never thought of Rufus this way before. They had been friends for millennia, and it had never come up in all that time. Reaching up, he cupped the back of Rufus's head. He wanted to get closer, but the table was an effective barrier.

"I think that settles that," Rufus said as he pulled away. He grinned. "Can you snap your fingers and get us someplace more comfortable?"

Metatron tried to snap and failed. He frowned and brought his hand closer to his face and tried again. This time his fingers connected but they didn't go anywhere.

"I thought you said you couldn't get drunk."

"I can't. I'm just slightly buzzed," Metatron said frowning. He continued to snap. He hadn't had that much to drink.

"A hotel room?"

Metatron's forehead wrinkled in confusion as he tried to figure out what Rufus was talking about, and then it dawned on him. A hotel room probably would be a better place to go. He snapped his fingers, and they reappeared in large suite.


The suite was large and opulent, a kingsize bed dominating half the room, while the other half was an overstuffed sitting area. In one corner was a wet bar, and Metatron was tempted to try it out. He started to walk over to it, but was stopped by Rufus.

"I don't think we need more alcohol," Rufus said huskily and drew Metatron to him.

Metatron gulped as his body brushed against Rufus's. A shiver of excitement ran through him. For the first time, he knew what it felt like to have a dick pressed up against him, and he found he liked it. Rufus shifted slightly, and then their dicks were rubbing up against each other through their pants. Metatron gasped and leaned down to kiss Rufus.

Rufus took control of the kiss with little bites and nips. Hands searched out new territory, occasionally unbuttoning and removing clothes. Soon they were naked and on the bed.

Blinking in surprise, Metatron looked up at Rufus, who was straddling him. He could see the desire in the other man's eyes. His gaze drifted down lower to see Rufus's fully erect dick. It was glorious. "Fuck," he breathed as Rufus aligned their cocks and began to stroke them. He bucked up into Rufus' grasp, and Rufus tightened his hand in response. The sheets twisted in Metatron's hands as he fought to retain control; he didn't want this to end so quickly. He closed his eyes, and the feeling intensified. Rufus sped up his movements, and soon Metatron was shuddering and flying high.

"Wow." No wonder why the humans always wanted sex. Metatron opened his eyes slowly and saw Rufus slumped over him. He wedged his hands between them to settle Rufus more comfortably. His fingers skated across of a pool of come and he blinked in surprise. He rubbed it between his fingers, feeling the viscous fluid for the first time.

"We haven't even begun yet," Rufus said smugly, if somewhat drowsily.

Metatron grinned and placed a small kiss on Rufus' head. "Then I guess it's a good thing we have millennia." As he drifted off to sleep, his last thought was that maybe all the bureaucratic headaches were worth it. He would have to remember to thank Her.