Work Text:
The circle of salt didn't want to stay in place, Quentin had been making it and then correcting over and over again for hours now. He'd read in the incantation book he'd stolen from the library that the salt had to form a perfect ring to contain the evil forces Quentin was planning on summoning, but salt wasn't really the most accurate drawing tool and the circle wasn't coming as spherical as Quentin wanted it to be.
Quentin was a pretty meticulous guy when he took the time to work correctly, he had to be with his choice of studies, but he was starting to lose his mind on this damn circle. He didn't think he could do it once again without plucking his own hair out of his scalp in anger. It probably didn't help that he was out of coffee, but he really couldn't have gone through this again, he was done tracing lines with salt and he was done waiting his time trying to shape it by hand. If the demon killed him, it killed him. At least that would have kept him from having to pay his student loans. He was doing this and he was doing it now. His due date for his essay was in two hours and he only had sixty words written down, which didn't even form an introduction, he needed help and by this point, the help needed to come from heaven. Or from hell, he wasn't a picky guy.
He placed himself in front of the circle and the sigils he'd written with purple Crayola on his dorm's wooden floor then clapped his hands, spreading chalk on his fingers as the spell demanded. He didn't know why a work demon would care about the state of his hands and if they were particularly chalky but beggars couldn't be choosers and he wasn't going to start questioning a Latin incantation when it was all the material he had. He closed his eyes, extending his hands over the circle of sal as he let the words of the spell flow through him. He needed to feel their powers, to let it consume him or it wouldn't work, he would just be left with a failed arts and crafts project all over his room.
He licked his lips and started chanting, fear making his voice shake a little, "Te, diabolum. Im' vocant exhaises tibi vota mea." The air around him got hotter, he felt something sting his palms and his heart skipped a beat. Maybe he still had time to turn back and abandon this madness, but the next words left him anyway, he couldn't stop himself. "In meum asinum voco te daemonium manducare." He wasn't breathing correctly, he couldn't feel his body, just the warm air enveloping him like a cocoon. "Libet corpus possideat. Et os meum, ut cor meum."
Quentin wanted out of this, he wanted to stop, he wanted the air to go back to it's crisp September coldness and not the damp hotness that was now engulfing him like a void, he wanted it to end. But his voice wasn't obeying to him anymore, his body didn't feel like his own and he couldn't keep the next words from spilling out of his lips. "Fode corpus meum et animam cum lingua."
The lamp on Quentin's right exploded, is windows started shaking and breaking at the corners, a glass on the sink burst into pieces, the world around him shifted. Dark smoke erupted from the ground, it was so black that it looked blue in certain lights, Quentin didn't know what he could do about it, he observed it, unable to look away. He expected something to claw itself out of his floor but nothing tore its way out, the smoke only thickened. It actually expanded and condensed, it twisted into different shapes before settling on something almost human. Quentin wanted to yell, to call for help, he knew Penny was always roaming around the corridors but his throat was closed and he couldn't move his arms. He was helpless, forced to watch the smoke form fingers, hands and arms. The legs came after, long, svelte legs wearing black leather pants that complimented the heel boots that the smoke shaped.
The first thought that passed Quentin's mind when the demon finished forming was that he looked very tall maybe even too tall for a man, but maybe that was the heels or maybe it was just normal for biblical entities to be 6'6. The second thing he thought was, oh no, he's beautiful.
The demon was made of paradoxes, all of his sinister features were completed by absolutely handsome traits. Such as his hair, it looked too dark, like it could swallow Quentin whole but it also seemed soft, it bounced in perfect curls that made Quentin want to run his hand through it and just caress it tenderly. The demon's eyes had a cat-like pupil, but the colour was a warm shade of hazel that melted Quentin's worries when he stared into them. His smile was threatening but his lips were plump and Quentin couldn't help but feel the strong desire to taste them, to just lick the corner of this cherry pink mouth in the hope that flavour would follow the colour.
"Hello," The demon purred, he was looking at Quentin with a lewd grin and an undescribable glint in his eyes. "You've called?"
Quentin was breathless and a little shaken. The demon's voice was smooth like honey and it sent shivers down Quentin's spine. He didn't know what to say, what to do, how were you supposed to act with the very handsome demon you summoned to do your homework? Were there some sort of rules he had to follow or an etiquette? "Hi," He replied, eyes still fixed on the demon's skin-tight outfit.
The demon approached him, only stopped in his move by the circle on the ground, "Quentin Coldwater?" He extended a hand, his nails were painted black. "It's a pleasure to meet you." He probably shouldn't shake hands with the devil, right? That wasn't a good idea, it wouldn't end well, but he did it anyway.
The demon's smile grew wider when Quentin skin touched his, he seemed thrilled and a little disbelieving. Maybe Quentin was being so fucking stupid that even the immortal demon was surprised by his idiocy. "It's, uh, nice to meet you too," Quentin said, lost in the velvety feel of the demon's hand in his. "How do you know my name?"
The demon let go of his hand and took a small step back, he was standing in the exact centre of the salt ring, but he didn't look bothered by it, more amused if Quentin was being honest. "You've called for me, Quentin." That didn't explain shit and the demon must have known it because he sighed, "Your soul hailed for mine, dear, I knew your name before I even answered your call."
Quentin blinked, "You have a soul?"
"Why wouldn't I have one?" The demon turned his head slightly on the side, like a puppy. "I even have a name."
"You-" Quentin took in the hair, the eyes, the boots, the entire aura that emanated from the creature. "You have a name?"
"I'm Eliot." He sounded almost happy to share the information, "But most people just refer to me as the Desire Demon."
"The Desire Demon?" Quentin blinked again, I felt like he was doing a lot of blinking and fumbling. "I called a work demon, to do homework. Not a Desire Demon."
The demon's, Eliot's, smile turned into a devious grin and wasn't that just perfectly on-brand. "Believe me, that wasn't a work spell, dear Q. It was an Incubus spell." He moved his fingers, snapping it twice to make a crystal glass filled with red wine appear. "Can I call you Q? I wouldn't want to step on your boundaries."
Quentin's ear grew hot and he felt anger bubble in the pit of his stomach, "Why would a demon care about my boundaries? And why should I believe you? You're literally an envoy from Hell."
"Don't I look trustworthy?" He didn't, not really, he was exactly the type of beautiful guy who would break Quentin's heart, it was written all over his aquiline nose and Raphael-like curls. He looked like a fallen angel sent to mess with Quentin's head. "And I like to establish a relationship of trust with the people who call for me, Q. Makes the process far more comfortable."
"Make what more comfortable?"
Eliot snapped his fingers again and a chair appeared in the circle. He sat down and crossed his legs then took a sip of his wine while he stared at Quentin, his eyes taking in all of Quentin's body like he was trying to find some place to stick his teeth in. "I'm not a work demon, sorry to disappoint," Eliot announced, "But that doesn't mean I can't help with your homework, dearest Q."
Quentin felt a sliver of hope but Eliot instantly quashed it. "I'd need to do a small ritual, something very lowkey, very easy too."
"You're trying to get my soul."
"Oh, Q, it's the last thing I want." Eliot stood up and moved towards the end of the salt ring, "Your soul is not what I desire from you."
Quentin's breath caught in his throat, his feet took him to the edge of the circle too, if Eliot took just one step forward, they would be touching cheek to cheek. "What do you want from me?"
Eliot's smile widened, "Everything."
Quentin wouldn't be able to explain what happened next, it was kind of foggy in his mind, he remembered a flash of light, then the sound of glass breaking. He remembered a gust of hot wind hitting him in the face and making him lose his equilibrium. He didn't fall but only because Eliot caught him.
He was out of the ring, or more accurately, the ring no longer existed. Salt was discarded all around the room, the sigils on the floor were broken and Eliot was holding Quentin up, pressing him against his chest so close that Quentin could hear Eliot's lack of beating heart. It should have scared him, but he only felt a tingle of curiosity. Was Eliot alive? Was he really there or was he just smoke formed into a body? Quentin felt like he didn't know anything anymore, he felt overwhelmed by Eliot's eyes and Eliot's hands, but he also felt overwhelmed by how much he didn't care. This was dangerous, he knew, but he couldn't help the deep want he felt in his chest when Eliot smiled. He was drawn to it like a moth to a flame.
"Am I hallucinating?" He whispered.
Eliot cupped his cheek and tugged a strand of hair behind his ear, "If you were, dear," He moved even closer, their noses touching, "How would asking me help?"
Quentin wanted to join their lips, but he was afraid, "Are you going to take my soul?"
"Not even a little bit," Eliot said, "I'm going to do a ritual with you, Q, to help with your homework. That's what you want, right?"
"I-"
"Let me take care of everything, pretty boy," Eliot tugged on the back of Quentin's hair, "I'm going to make this so good for you."
The kiss wasn't surprising in itself, Quentin expected it when Eliot caressed his cheek but the intensity of it was kind of astounding. Quentin felt electrified, kissing Eliot was a bit like touching a naked wire, he knew it should have hurt, it should have scared him but it only left him wanting more. Quentin felt more than he saw Eliot take off his clothes, he felt Eliot's soft and hot fingers search for the zipper of his hoodie.
"If you want me to stop, just say the word," Eliot whispered in his ear as he pulled Quentin's shirt off, "I'm not a demon right now, little Q, if you don't want this, you can say it."
"I do," Quentin said into Eliot's open mouth, "I want to, I do."
This was all Eliot needed to tear away the rest of Quentin's clothes, he ripped a part of Quentin's pants and threw them to the other side of the room as quickly as possible to crowd Quentin's space. It was hot, in every sense of the term, Eliot's skin was warmer than his own and kissing so fervently meant that Quentin could feel beads of sweat form at the back of his neck, Eliot didn't seem to mind.
He glided his hands from the back to the front of Quentin's neck and pushed him towards the bed, his fingers wrapped tenderly but commandingly as he compressed Quentin's airflow just slightly. He wasn't squeezing at all and Quentin almost wished he would just apply more pressure. he told him so.
Eliot laughed and it sounded genuinely happy and excited, "Fine, but you need to tap on my head if I'm going too hard and you can't speak. Are we clear?" He released Quentin's neck to hear him repeat the sentence at least twice. It should have disturbed Quentin that this, the prospection of having kinky sex with a demon, didn't feel alarming to him. He felt safe in Eliot's arms, even when he was slowly choking him and sucking a bruise on his pale neck.
Quentin fell on the bed, Eliot's hands were keeping him still as he took off his underwear and Quentin felt his naked cock hit the warm air, he moaned but no sound came out of his throat, the noise dying under Eliot's hand. That only made him moan harder.
It seemed to Quentin, from where he was trembling and groaning like crazy, that Eliot took it as a challenge. With a sly smile, Eliot stopped sucking on Quentin's neck to start moving down his body, his teeth catching one nipple on his way before biting another mark when he arrived to Quentin's navel. Eliot's lips were soft, softer than anything Quentin had ever felt on his skin, he wanted to feel them on every inch of his body but especially wrapped around his dick. He tried to say it, to warn Eliot that if he kissed the tip just right, he might explode at any given moment. But Eliot didn't stop at Quentin's cock as he'd expected, instead, he licked his way across it and towards Quentin's balls before moving again and settling one of his buttcheeks.
Eliot paused then moved his fingers and Quentin felt something move inside him than instantly leave. He felt looser too and cleaner, he supposed having sex with demons had all types of advantages. Once that was done, Eliot didn't let the mood lose its fire, he immediately went back to what he was doing prior, which had been creating hickeys like a High School girl on Quentin's ass. After a few minutes of Eliot alternating between kissing, biting, licking, he left Quentin's, now red, cheeks and moved towards his hole. When Eliot's tongue touched him, Quentin's entire body started vibrating, he let out an overly pleased whine and tried to grab something, anything, to cover his mouth with.
He didn't want the entire campus to hear him sob with pleasure, especially when he knew that as long that Eliot was doing that with his tongue, he wasn't going to be able to calm down. But Eliot cast away all the pillows and looked up, his head only barely visible behind Quentin's open legs. "I want to hear you, Q," He murmured, licking another scrap of Quentin's skin, "Let me hear you, baby."
"Fuck, Eliot, fuck," Quentin curled his toes when Eliot's tongue slowly started to enter him, "I'm going to come, Eliot, please."
This was probably what religion must have felt like, Quentin could only understand that explanation because when he told Eliot he was close, he expected the other man to stop, to edge him, but Eliot, already ready to surprise him, did the exact opposite. The moment Quentin warned him, Eliot licked another strap and then moved to Quentin's balls, sucking each one vehemently before wrapping his slick fingers around Quentin's cock.
Quentin came, he let out a shout that was swallowed by the fingers still around his throat before moaning again when he didn't feel his cock go soft. This was Eliot's doing, he was sure of it, Eliot was making him come while also keeping him hard, it was too much and yet not enough.
"You should know how good you look right now, Q," Eliot whispered when he moved away from Quentin's quivering hole, "You should see how pink you are everywhere, it's precious."
He kissed another mark on Quentin's thigh and then lead two fingers to Quentin's open mouth. Quentin didn't waste the chance to suck on them and when Eliot took them out, he moaned in protest, but Eliot only chuckled, "Impatient boy, it's coming, my dear. Don't you worry."
Quentin wanted to say that it wasn't soon enough, that if Eliot didn't get inside of him right now he was going to banish him back to the seventh's circle of Hell, that he didn't need the preparation, that he was good, he could do this right now. But That was before he saw Eliot's cock.
He only caught a glimpse, he wasn't in the best position to really run a precise observation, but the length of it, the girth, it made Quentin's mouth water. If he ever got the chance to do this again, he'd fall down to his knees for Eliot the moment he'd appear.
"You're doing so good for me," Eliot said as he opened Quentin up, making the other man arch his back in pleasure when he hit his prostate, "So pretty for me, so good. Are you going to come on my cock, Quentin?" The sound of his full name on Eliot's tongue felt obscene. "I need to hear you say it, baby."
Quentin moaned, "I'm gonna be good, I swear." Eliot's finger hit his prostate again and Quentin started crying, "I want to come on your cock, please, Eliot. Please, I want to come."
He was already close, he knew it, but he didn't want to come again without the feeling of Eliot's length moving inside of him. Eliot must have understood what he wanted because he let his fingers slip out, making Quentin whine a little at the loss, before flipping Quentin on the other side, forcing him to get on his hands and knees for him.
When Eliot entered him, Quentin believed in God for just a second. His entire nervous system was on fire, he was hearing himself wail as Eliot drived into him, gently at first, the drag of his cock inside of Quentin almost burning. It's a lot to take in, both figuratively and literally, but Quentin wants more, he wants Eliot to move, to finally give him what he's been begging for.
Eliot obeyed him, rocking inside of Quentin deep and hard, his pelvis hitting Quentin's ass with the force of it. It felt sharp, everything was cutting into Quentin like barbed wire, it shouldn't have felt this good, but he was screaming with pleasure and squeezing his eyes so hard that he very well could turn blind when they were finished.
"Do you know what you said to me when you called, Q?" Eliot asked, voice low and a little choked, he was obviously enjoying this too and the realisation of it filled Quentin with something dark and heavy that screamed mineminemine. He was the one making Eliot feel like this. Eliot, the Desire Demon, the incubus, was fucking into Quentin and liking it and that belonged to Quentin and only to him. "You asked me to come eat your heart and take your mouth," He bit into Quentin's shoulder, hard, "You asked me to dig you to the bone with my tongue and to take possession of your body." Eliot breathed next to his neck, "And I answered."
The bite wasn't unexpected but it stills surprised Quentin, it was hard into his neck and probably drawing blood, but Eliot kept his mouth on it, licking the teeth marks while he let looses and fucked into Quentin so hard that the bed under them started to shake. Quentin was close again but he didn't want to come without Eliot, he wanted to please him first, to make him come and feel him bury himself into him.
He moaned again because he knew Eliot liked it and tried to tighten around Eliot who let out a groan and jerked inside. Eliot grabbed his hair at the nape of his neck and pulled to get Quentin closer. "Come for me, baby," He murmured, lips forming the words on Quentin's shoulder blades.
This was it, Quentin couldn't stop it. He sobbed when he came, trashing violently when his orgasm caught on him, the electricity that had built between them finally leaving his body. He didn't feel when Eliot came, he was too out of it, but he did feel Eliot pull out and cover him with a fluffy blanket before standing up.
"What are you doing?" Quentin asked, it was probably closer to whashaudin since he could only mumble a few words into his pillow. He didn't want Eliot to leave just yet, he needed him there for just a little longer. He knew it wasn't right, Eliot was a demon, but Quentin felt safe with him, he felt like he belonged. He wanted him to stay, he wanted him to pet Quentin's hair and tell him how beautiful he looked well fucked.
"Give me a second," Eliot answered. He was standing up naked and moving his fingers in impossibly complicated positions before letting his arms fall back and turning towards Quentin with a smile. "Your essay is finished, Mr Coldwater."
Quentin hummed but he didn't care, the essay seemed like the least important thing in the world right now. "Stay?" He asked, afraid of the answer.
He couldn't really see Eliot's eyes, but he imagined that beautiful hazel speckled with gold colour looking down on his sleepy form with a sort of tenderness. The bed dipped under Eliot's weight and Quentin felt the demon position himself behind him, arms wrapped around his waist and head shoved in Quentin's neck.
"Always," He whispered.