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Infatuated, Michael had said.
What a bunch of nonsense , Gabriel thinks.
Infatuation suggests there are feelings involved, some amount of affection at the very least. There’s no affection here, no matter the occasional tenderness of their coupling; it’s pure and simple sex. There’s pleasure, yes, and he does enjoy it very much, to the point of looking forward to his little escapes to Earth, but there’ll be no love lost between him and Beelzebub when the inevitable End of Times come to pass.
If he was infatuated, he’d probably feel some amount of regret at the thought of their affair coming to an end, but he feels nothing other than the usual thrill at the thought of the War to End All Wars. When the time comes, he thinks, the Prince of Hell will end up underneath him just the same and it’ll be just as pleasurable as what they are currently doing.
“Ouch! What are you doing?!” he demands, pulling away, Beelzebub’s fingertips burning the skin of his hips. He glares down at the demon, who’s frowning at him, a most curious expression on their face.
“You’re being too rough, feather brain,” the Prince says, still watching him funnily. “Not that I oppose per se , mind, but I got the feeling you weren’t really here. Got lost in that pretty head of yours. Care to share with the class?”
Gabriel huffs, rolling off them and Beelzebub turns on their side, so they’re facing him. “It’s nothing. It’s just… something Michael said.” He frowns, as the rest of their words finally register. “You think I’m pretty?”
Beelzebub snorts. “Fishing for compliments, Gabriel? Oh, how the mighty have fallen.” They sit up, stretching out and Gabriel watches in fascination, his body getting interested on the actual procedures once more. “Michael is a wanker, you know? I wouldn’t listen to her.”
“Well, you are a demon,” he points out. “You wouldn’t listen to any angel anyway.”
“I listen to you, don’t I?”Beelzebub says, pulling their legs to their chest, resting their head on top of their knees. “Admittedly, most of what you do nowadays is sing praises to my abilities in bed, but alas--”
“Now, that’s not true,” Gabriel argues, sitting up too, feeling at disadvantage somehow. The demon arches an eyebrow challeginly and Gabriel huffs, crossing his arms over his chest. “Alright, yes, I do , but the same can be said for you.”
“True,” his companion acknowledges. “You’re a very good shag, I’ll give you that.”
Gabriel preens at the praise, although later it occurs him it’s not something he ought to be proud about. They sit in silence for a while, observing each other thoughtfully, not saying another word and Gabriel must admit it’s nice, comfortable even.
“In the future,” Beelzebub says suddenly, climbing into his lap, hands resting on his shoulders, a wicked smile on their lips. “Kindly avoid thinking of Michael when you’re fucking me, will you? It’s terribly rude.”
Gabriel chuckles and the demon grins, before leaning forward to kiss him deeply. Gabriel moans, all other thoughts forgotten for the moment, pulling the demon closer to him.
Infatuated, he thinks as he watches Beelzebub move above him.
As if.
It’s curious, Gabriel thinks, how human bodies (and therefore their own flesh suits) are wired. Pleasure and pain never seem to be terribly apart from one another, one often precluding the other.
Beelzebub’s fingernails dig into his back, which of course just urges him to move faster. The demon lets out the most delicious sounds, but his favorite one is definitely the sound of his name on their lips, followed by all the glorious begging for him to move closer, faster, deeper.
He’ll miss this, he thinks, when their little rendezvous comes to its inevitable end. It’s not meant to last, it can not possibly last, but he supposes there’s no much use on worrying about the future: it is written that the Final Battle will take place, even if the details on when exactly it’ll take place are a little fuzzy nowadays.
He rests his head on his companion’s chest as they both try to catch their breaths afterwards. Neither needs to breath and strictly speaking, neither needs a heartbeat either, but he enjoys listening to Beelzebub’s when they’re like this, their heart beating in staccato before slowly going back to its usual rhythm. It’s soothing, for some reason and he does find himself falling in something close to sleep on moments like this.
The room is quiet now, no other sound but their synchronized breathing and their unnecessary heartbeats.
It’s nice, truly.
A pity it’s just a temporary arrangement.
Maybe, Gabriel reflects as he watches his companion sleep, he ought to get himself a lover of angelic stock. That way he won’t have to trouble himself with thoughts of it ever ending, since the inevitable End of the Times wouldn’t be a concern then: if nothing else, they’d be on the same side.
The thought, while logical, makes him feel all funny, like a big weight has been placed on top of his chest and it’s making it hard to breath.
He slides closer to the sleeping demon, wrapping an arm around their waist. Beelzebub humms, something resembling a small smile blossoming on their lips as they snuggle closer on instinct, burying their face in Gabriel’s neck. Immediately, the Archangel can feel warmth spreading across his body and he smiles, pleased with himself, pressing a quick kiss to the other’s head.
He really ought to stop worrying about the End of Times.
With one Apocalypse botched, what are the chances of another one actually coming to pass?
“You know, just because you don’t sleep, it doesn’t mean you get to wake me up whenever you feel like it,” Beelzebub says, although there’s no real protest in their tone and so Gabriel doesn’t bother to answer, simply continuing kissing his way upward the demon’s body. “Someone is a little overeager tonight.”
“Hardly,” he replies easily, kissing them long and deep, earning himself a pleased moan. “But the night is short and I’d prefer to take advantage of the time we have.”
“Has it occurred you--” Beelzebub starts, just for the rest of their sentence to get lost in a moan when Gabriel bites the underside of their jaw. “--that we could stay here longer?”
Gabriel stops his ministrations abruptly, considering. No, in all truth, it hadn’t occurred him and he’s not sure why not. His heart has come to an stop and it hurts for some reason he can not decipher. “That’d be unwise,” he says finally, almost reluctantly.
Beelzebub sighs, leaning back on the pillows, throwing an arm over their eyes. “You’re right, of course. It’s a real miracle Hell doesn’t fall apart with me gone for a whole night and I don’t imagine Heaven fares any better.”
“No,” he agrees, although he can’t help thinking that’s not the real reason for his reluctance to stay. “That could get messy,” he murmurs, nuzzling his companion’s neck. “Besides, there’s such thing as too much of a good thing.”
Beelzebub arches an eyebrow, watching him curiously. “Is this a good thing?” they ask, head tilted to the side, their question honest enough.
It’s not a question Gabriel actually wants to think about, truth be told.
So he kisses the demon Prince instead.
Beelzebub sleeps once more and Gabriel watches them in silence, lost in his thoughts.
He does not understand the appeal of sleeping, truth be told. He understands why humans need to and while this body might need the occasional maintenance procedure, it never takes any longer than a few minutes nap for him to recharge.
His companion however, seems to enjoy napping entirely too much.
Of course, in a way, it’s a compliment to his own skills in bed, leaving the demon so tired afterwards. It’s inconvenient however; as he said earlier, there are only so many hours in a night and he’s not a fan of wasting time on unneeded rest, but--
Beelzebub makes a soft pleased sound, curling closer to him and Gabriel’s musings come to a stop. He runs his fingers down his partner’s spine in a soothing motion, prompting another contented sigh from the demon and he smiles, pleased with himself.
Next to him, the demon Prince looks much more smaller than they are, much more delicate and fragile. They’re neither, of course, but he can easily see why humans would underestimate them. He wonders why did Beelzebub choose such a misleading corporation and promptly decides that was exactly the point.
He thinks back to the night that started it all and his unnecessary heart skips a beat as he remembers Beelzebub in the middle of the fight ring. They had looked glorious, clothes askew, hair a right mess, bloody and sweaty and so very alluring. When they actually fought each other, he had found it hard to focus, distracted by just how damn gorgeous the other had looked. He’s heard humans referring to other particularly attractive humans as Temptation Incarnated and he had come to understand the term a little too well.
His actions afterwards had been… thoughtless, really. He does not regret them, not by far, not when they have brought him so much joy ever since, but he recognizes maybe he should have stopped to think before acting. If he had though, he can not say in all honesty he would have proceeded as he did and none of this would ever had come to pass.
He frowns, considering. Would that be a bad thing?
I have on good source that you seem to be… infatuated, Michael’s words resonate inside his head and this time around he does not dismiss the idea right away. He’ll admit that even before all this, he had grown somewhat fond of the demon Prince. He has a certain level of respect for them and maybe even something close to admiration for their work. Infatuation, however… affection…
No, he tells himself sternly, unconsciously tightening his grip around his companion’s waist. That’s not what this it, it simply can not be. Surely he’d have noticed if it was and then he’d have put a stop to it before it grew to something uncontrollable.
Except--
Such is the nature of love, he knows: it sneaks upon you when you least expect it and once it has a hold of you, it's almost impossible to shake it off.
Well. He’ll be damned.