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When he was in this form, he went by the name Devin. It was always a conversation starter, especially among drunk co-eds and the occasional theology major, even if they always thought their jokes were so clever. So original.
"You know," said one particularly susceptible redhead as she ran her hand up his arm. "Devin is just one letter away from "devil." Isn’t it funny that you work somewhere called Heaven Down?" She touched him a little more slowly, the soft pads of her fingers lingering on the curves of his bicep. "And you are pretty tall, dark, and handsome."
She blinked at him flirtatiously with honey-brown eyes, their focus glazed just from the proximity to his magic. She'd had half a drink and half a dance before she'd come back to his bar, ditching her date without thought for the chance at him; it wouldn't have been any work at all to take her into the back room or a bathroom stall and reach under her skirt, fucking her hard and fast like she clearly wanted, and he could already feel his lips tingle with the quick buzz of her orgasm. The temptation of an easy mark was strong, as always, and Devin smiled his charming smile that left the back rows of his teeth hidden.
"I get that a lot," he said lightly, and shrugged her hand off. Tempting as it was, the easily susceptible prey was like junk food: never satisfying enough, and certainly never filling for more than a few minutes. "But I think you want the man you came with instead."
She looked confused at the rejection, but Devin gave her a push with his magic, hard enough to frighten. She pulled away from him quickly after that, even if she wasn't sure why, and Devin watched her run back to the man who'd been watching the interaction with jealous eyes. They disappeared into the crowd within minutes, which was quite a feat for a Wednesday night in a college town during summer vacation; the entire place was relatively empty of bodies, and Devin wondered if he should've just taken the meal on offer rather than wait for something better.
Five minutes later, a couple burst noisily through the door, filling the air with a woman's bright laughter. Devin glanced up and saw a slim woman in a green dress, her dark hair long and loose about her shoulders, and the air around her was sweet, almost nauseatingly so. She was happy, so happy it hurt Devin's eyes, and he almost looked away in self-defense.
It was the man who caught his attention and made him keep looking despite that. He was not normally Devin's type—too tall and too broad, and his hair was light blond under the spotlights that lit the bar, a pretty color that didn't suit the wide, rugged features of his face. Beyond that, it was hard to make out the details, but the emotions he gave off—lust when he saw the women dancing, revulsion when he spotted the men—made him intriguing to Devin. It was rare that he saw someone come to a place that welcomed all kinds who was clearly disturbed by interactions between men, and it was rarer still that he saw someone so obviously there against his will.
When the dark-haired woman made a gesture and left to go join the crowd of dancing, writhing bodies, the man began walking towards Devin. Every foot closer brought more of his discomfort, more of his lust, and Devin tried hard to stare without staring.
This was the one. Devin knew it with certainty, and the minute the man sat down at his deserted bar, Devin slid a shot of expensive vodka in front of him.
"On the house," Devin said.
"Thanks," the man said, and he threw the shot back like it was nothing. His eyes drifted back over to the woman he'd come in with, but there was no lust in him there, only love.
"Girlfriend who likes to dance?" Devin guessed, already knowing it was wrong.
"No. Sister." The man shook his head. "I don't know why she wanted to come here, though."
He shifted uncomfortably on his stool, and there it was again: the fear, the worry, the disgust. The combination would've been a sign to stay away to a human, but all it meant to Devin was a challenge. The man would've been safer wearing meat around his neck while standing in a cage full of lions.
"Well, it's ladies' night," Devin said, instead of letting his teeth lengthen and turn him monstrous. It was hard to resist, with a meal so close. "Drinks half-off for women."
"For all the good it does me," the man responded, shaking his head.
"You can always just make friends with the bartender," Devin said, and this time he held out a glass tumbler, filled nearly halfway with whiskey.
The man balked, which was good—his instincts told him to be wary, although probably for the wrong reasons.
"Look, man," he began, with all the signs of trying to let him down easy. "I don't mean to be rude, but I'm not really—you know, gay."
"Neither am I," Devin said honestly; that would imply that he saw humans as anything other than food, and he really didn't. "But I figured you could use a drink anyway." He tipped his chin over the man's shoulder, in the direction of the woman in the green dress. "I think your sister will be here for a while."
The man's shoulders slumped.
"Yeah, probably." He smiled, a little hesitantly, as he accepted the glass from Devin's hand. "Thanks for the drink."
"Anytime," Devin said, and if he meant it a little more salaciously than the man would want, that was his secret (for the moment.)
***
The man had been there for roughly thirty minutes when he finally introduced himself as Jack, a football player at the nearby college. This small tidbit came only after three more drinks, and although it was said with open pride, Devin privately thought that Jack looked on the verge of aging out of the sport and whatever scholarships he might've had. Devin placed him as late-twenties and directionless, the typical sort who came to a club late on a Wednesday night, but Devin still made appropriately sympathetic noises when Jack began to complain about his ex-girlfriend and the apartment they'd once shared.
Jack must have been a good brother, because even in the midst of his sorry tale and while being plied with drinks, he still never once lost sight of his sister. It was really rather noble; inconvenient, but noble, and Devin considered leaving him alone—he could always find another meal, even on a slow night like this.
But then Jack's eyes finally strayed, landing with lust for the first time on the redhead Devin had dismissed earlier, and he decided against it. Humans, even the good ones, were always so weak to lust in the end; why spare them that, when they were all just itching to succumb?
The next time Devin slid a glass towards Jack, it was water, and he made sure to brush the tip of his finger over the back of Jack's hand. It was barely there, but it gave Devin the contact he needed to push, push, push, the magic pouring through him as heavy as chocolate liquor.
Jack's head immediately turned around to look at Devin, and Devin saw the minute he forgot that both the redhead and his sister existed.
"Hey man," Jack said, with a shy, sweet smile. "Thanks again."
"It's not a problem," Devin said, running his finger up and down the back of Jack's wide hand. He didn't seem to notice the touch, not even enough to shift away. "But it's getting a little busy," he lied easily. "How would you like to help me make drinks?"
Jack beamed at him.
"I'd love that!" He paused. "I think there's something I'm supposed to do, though…"
"Surely it's not important."
Devin pressed his entire palm against Jack's hand and gave him another push of magic, and Jack shook his head just like Devin wanted.
"No, you're right. If I can't even remember, it must not be that important." Jack hopped off his stool and went easily to the gate leading to behind the bar, pushing it open as though he'd done so a thousand times before. "What's first?"
Devin pointed to an empty stool.
"That customer wants a whiskey on the rocks," he said. "Know how to make one of those?"
Jack nodded eagerly, and Devin handed him the bottle and a glass, making comments and corrections when appropriate. They made a variety of drinks that way for the every imaginary person at the bar, and whenever any of the club's patrons seemed like they might consider coming close enough to get an actual drink, a push of Devin's hungry magic sent them on their way. He'd deal with the lost income later, but right now he had other priorities.
"You're doing so well," Devin said, pushing his hand underneath Jack's shirt to rest against his lower back. More skin meant more coercing magic, and Jack was absorbing it like a sponge. "A real pro."
Jack flushed with the praise and spilled his next practice drink, and Devin made a disappointed sound, even while he wrapped his arm around Jack's waist. A quick detour of his hand found Jack hard in his jeans, his entire stiff shaft barely enough to fill Devin's hand, and Devin couldn't resist giving him a squeeze.
Jack bucked his hips with a startled sound, and he very nearly pulled away. Devin didn't move except to keep his arm touching as much skin as possible, his hand still loosely holding onto Jack's shaft.
"I…" Jack swallowed loudly. "I think…something's…"
Jack was breathing heavily, and the effort he was making to shake off Devin's control was admirable. Admirable, but pointless.
"Yes, Jack?" Devin stroked him once from base to tip. He was already leaking all over his hand, and Devin felt the arousal hit his stomach like a dollop of cream, sweet and tempting. "Is something wrong?"
It took a minute for Jack to shake his head, but in the end, he relaxed and looked back down at the drink he'd spilled, not trickling steadily onto the floor. With a very slow movement, he reached for a towel and began to mop up the liquid and ice, wiping one spot over and over in his daze.
"No. I must be imagining things."
"Sure." Devin gave him one last squeeze and pulled his hand out, wiping it casually against Jack's shirt. "You run along and finish making drinks; I'll clean this up."
Jack nodded, and when Devin let go of him, he went about the motions robotically, making a dozen imaginary orders. It made Devin grin even as he followed him, carefully pouring shots back into the bottles they came from even as Jack continued making more.
It wasn't until Jack knelt down to get a bottle from the lower shelf that the snare finally closed, freezing him on his knees while he waited for Devin to come to him. It wasn't a minute too soon; Devin was starving, and he would savor this meal like it deserved: slowly.
"Why are you on the floor, Jack?" Devin asked, and at the sound of his voice, Jack blinked up at him sluggishly.
"I'm…not sure," Jack finally admitted. "I think I'm supposed to do something…"
"Oh, that." Devin nodded in understanding. "Yes, it is about time, isn't it?" With a flick of his fingers, he undid his jeans. His cock was hard and throbbing and barely human, his glamor slipping somewhat from all the magic he had to pour into Jack to get them here. It was worth it, though, for the sight of the lumbering fool on his knees.
The part of Jack that was still aware of what was happening seemed to balk at the size of Devin's full length, but he wasn't in control enough to protest when Devin slid the tip of his cock around his lips teasingly, getting them nice and tellingly slick. No one who saw Jack after this would have any doubts about what he'd been doing, even if he managed to wipe it off; sex with an incubus always left a mark on their prey, a flush of satisfaction that couldn't be hidden, and Devin intended to satisfy.
Unfortunately, the instant he pushed the thick tip of his cock past Jack's plump lips, Jack jerked away. It left Devin's cock only slightly damp and harder than before, and it swelled another impressive inch at the rejection; at this rate, Devin with be in full-blown incubus form in the middle of his damn bar, and he couldn't have that.
With a sigh, he grabbed Jack's head and pulled him back, once again lining up his cock with his mouth.
"Wait," Jack said, hot breath on hotter flesh while his eyes went wide, bordering on panicked. "I don't like this."
"You do," Devin said. "You just need a good, strong taste."
Devin pushed his cock back into Jack's mouth, this time holding his head steady and in place until the first drops of precome oozed out and splashed against his tongue. The effect of that first taste was immediate, with Jack instinctively opening his mouth wider and moving his tongue, trying to get Devin to loose more of that creamy, addictive goodness into his mouth. It was exactly the reaction Devin had expected, and so he stayed put, letting Jack's craving push him into sucking eagerly at Devin's twitching flesh as though sucking from a straw. With every fresh drop, Jack moaned hungrily, but eventually he began to lose direction, mouthing mindlessly at Devin's shaft as he rode the high of barely a mouthful of pre-come.
It was almost sweet, and Devin smiled at the proof that he'd chosen well.
"That's it," Devin said encouragingly, and he pushed his cock slightly inside Jack's mouth, watching the way his lips parted without thought while his eyes stayed hungry and unfocused. At the first graze of teeth against his shaft, Devin jerked in surprised pleasure, pushing a little further inside his hot mouth. Jack moaned and tried to pull back, but he was no match for Devin's strong fingers clamped around his head.
"It's all right—I like a little teeth. Humans can't really hurt me like this, so you don't have to worry." He pushed a little further, enjoying the way Jack's lips had begun to stretch obscenely around his thick shaft; it was like watching him try to suck off the fat end of a beer bottle. "Besides, I know you like it."
Devin pushed forward in demonstration, until barely half of his cock was inside Jack's mouth and the rest hung heavy and imposing from his jeans. Jack continued to suck obligingly, and they moved that way for several minutes, with Devin pushing forward and back slowly while Jack tried his best.
The sound of a throat clearing made him look up, and Devin's head snapped up in alarm, his hips stopping as soon as he locked eyes with the woman in the green dress, Jack's sister. He must have let his magic barrier slip; had he been caught? He was surprised to find that the idea filled him with excitement.
But she didn't look down, not even to check the location of his hands. It must have been too dark, or she must have been too preoccupied to notice.
"Have seen my brother?" she asked, looking worried. "He was supposed to be around here…"
Devin had spent enough time around humans that he didn't laugh, although he wanted to.
"I'm not sure," Devin answered as he slowly began rotating his hips again, once again thrusting his cock in and out of Jack's mouth. "What does he look like?"
"Blond hair, blue eyes." She held a hand far above her head. "This tall? He's a linebacker; he's hard to miss."
"I think I might have seen him. Did you try the bathroom?"
Jack's sister immediately whipped her head around in the direction Devin pointed, and Devin used that split second to thrust forward hard, suddenly burying his enormous cock in Jack's soft throat. Jack gagged and whimpered, but the noises were too muffled by flesh to hear over the pounding music.
Jack's sister turned back around, none the wiser while Jack choked on his dick just out of sight, and Devin put on his most sympathetic face.
"I'll keep an eye out for him. I'm sure he'll turn up."
She smiled gratefully and almost shyly, and then turned and disappeared back into the crowd. Devin sighed and looked down, not surprised to see Jack's face looking red and hot from the brief lack of air. Devin continued rocking his hips anyway; it seemed Jack had learned to breathe around a dick after all, and although his skill otherwise was definitely lacking, it was still enjoyable to shallowly rub his swollen length all through the inside of Jack's throat.
Jack made a thick sound, almost a sob, and that's when Devin noticed the tears hanging on his pale lashes.
"Oh baby," Devin said softly, cupping one hot cheek with his hand. "Don't cry; you're doing so well for your first time."
Jack made another sound, but this one sounded more like a protest, like he was shaking off the addictive effects of Devin's come; Devin couldn't have that, and he impatiently pushed a final burst magic through his fingers and into Jack's mind. It was probably too much, judging by the way Jack suddenly shuddered, his hips jerking as he visibly came in his pants before passing out under his hands, but Devin couldn't regret the waste. The sudden rush of completion and wrong filled Devin to the brim, and at that point, he didn't really need to get off anymore; Jack had been a delicious and filling, if stubborn, meal.
More than anything, it was the reminder that Jack had been stubborn that made Devin curl his hand around the back of his neck and continue fucking his throat, now pliant with unconsciousness. A healthy dose of incubus come in his belly would leave Jack itching for more, and Devin wouldn't have to use as much magic next time. Even if there wasn't a next time, Jack would surely make a willing meal for whoever wanted him; after all, after swallowing an incubus's come, he'd be fighting off the urge to suck every dick he came across.
Devin couldn't help smiling when he came down Jack's throat, and he stayed there for several minutes, flooding wave after wave of hot come into him, a full incubus load. It was too much for a human to swallow comfortably, and when he pulled his cock out—soft, and once more returned to human size—come spilled out of Jack's mouth and over his chin and chest. Devin tucked himself back into his jeans with a satisfied pat, and then knelt down to Jack's level, tapping him once on the shoulder.
When Jack didn't stir, Devin used a bit of his renewed magic to wake him up.
"Jack," he said quietly, when Jack's blue eyes blinked at him, still dazed. "Your sister is looking for you. You should probably clean yourself up."
Jack nodded and Devin helped him stand, giving him one of the bar towels to wipe himself clean. Jack looked nothing but confused as he slowly patted himself down, his hands landing in the sticky mess on his face and chest. Devin watched him and waited, and just as the horror began to set in, he leaned forward.
"Thanks for the blowjob," he said in Jack's ear. "I'll fuck you next time, if you want."
Jack shuddered, but whether it was from revulsion or the lingering effects of Devin's come, Devin couldn't tell, and he didn't care.
With a pat on his back, he shooed Jack out from behind his bar, watching him stumble to the bathroom, towel still clutched tightly in his fist.