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Sandalphon knows he is making a mistake by entertaining Belial’s presence in any capacity— he is not so naive as to miss such obvious signs of danger. When he had seen the other walking towards him, it would have made more sense to walk away. To leave. Or, at least... to attack Belial right where he stood. Sandalphon did not, though. He knows he should, but he did not. Has not.

Recipes for disaster and mayhem and peril usually come in packages disguised better than the cloth and feathers that this one comes in. Obvious is too light a word.

“I’m surprised you’ll even talk to me, Sandy,” he says, conversationally, even though he is walking around Sandalphon as if he were a vulture looking at prey. Belial’s tone, admittedly surprised, radiates curiosity as well, and the embedded question of Why, though? is not a question that Sandalphon is willing to answer. So he does not. Instead, his lips pull into a deeper frown and he tilts his chin upwards.

His red eyes do not falter. “You aren’t moving. How else would I tell you to move out of my way? Do you need something from me?” The tightness in his voices betrays any possibility at faking serenity, but then again… Sandalphon had rarely been one for such a thing anyway. Nothing lost.

Belial stops walking and grins regardless, and it isn’t until he takes a step closer and stands up straighter that Sandalphon truly realizes the differences in their heights, size, and stature. He refuses to act like it affects him. “Need something from you? Such a generous offer… Who am I to refuse, no matter how naive you are? It’s cute. Hot.”

“Would you— stop,” he hisses, eyes narrowing as he refuses to step backwards, “Stop saying it like that.” Belial leans forward for a moment, then sighs dramatically, throwing his head back.

“Oh, such an offer, but the baaaashful virgin barely knows the gravity of what he’s sa—”

“I am not— I am not bashful, or a-a—!

“—ying... a bout of innocence I completely want to exploit. Ah… Is it, though? Is it innocence? Maybe it’s on purpose… Oh, I doubt it. I didn't hear you deny an important part of that sentence.” The grin widens, and Sandalphon bristles.

His voice grows tighter. “Is there. Anything. You need?”


“One minute and I am leaving.” That gets laughter this time, and the sound makes Sandalphon scrunch his nose up and his fingers tap against the sides of his thighs. Jittery. Belial does not seem to notice.

“Fine, fine. Just ten minutes, that’s all I want. Walk and talk with me.” A pause, then he continues. “Don’t worry. I usually like to take my time, but for you I can finish quickly.”

Sandalphon choose to not comment on the extra innuendo, not seeing it as worth his time. Instead, he turns his nose up a bit again, stepping to the side, past Belial. “Ten minutes.” An agreement. He does not want to think about the reason why he allows it… why he entertains it.

(Demons and their pull are powerful for a reason. There are many things Sandalphon will do to stave off the pain that comes with sleep a little longer.)

“Perfect.” The way Belial slips behind him and nudges him towards the left, down another street in this darkened town, reminds Sandalphon of a snake. “Thiiiiis way. C’mon. So, what were you saying earlier? Not bashful and? You weren’t actually going to lie to me and say you aren’t a bashful little virgin, were you? That’s a little rude, don’t you think?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Sandalphon lies quickly. He feels eyes on him, he knows Belial is looking right at him as they walk, and the worst thing is that Sandalphon is not exactly sure how he feels about the attention. The attention. Something in the pit of his stomach twists tightly. He licks his lips.

Belial laughs again, louder this time, and Sandalphon can feel him closer. He can feel the heat. “So you speak just to cut yourself off. Do you like hearing yourself talk that much, Sandy? I mean, I don’t blame you, but if you want to hear yourself so badly, there are absolutely better alternatives.”

“Maybe, instead of talking, you should try out silence and see how it works for you.” This time, Sandalphon’s voice is a bit more snappy and he knows it. That is weakness. It is obvious, now, that Belial got under his skin a little bit. Weaknesses can be exploited best the moment they are discovered. Sandalphon knows this.

Belial knows it as well. “Oooh, snappy. Feisty. You really are planning on making this as hard for me as possible, aren’t you? What a challenge.”

Sandalphon does not respond. He does not even stop walking.

Belial clicks his tongue. “Ooooi…. Are you ignoring me now? A little rude, don’t you think?” No response. “I never took you for the quiet type, darling.”

There is a game Sandalphon knows he is playing here, and it is one he actively exacerbates by licking his lips and letting his stride slow down until it is a slow, almost swinging gait— an open taunt, right towards Belial’s attention, trying to grab all of his attention. The ploy works.

A hand reaches out to grab his shoulder, lighter than one would expect, and Sandalphon stops walking. He does not turn around fully, but instead cranes his neck a bit to the side, glancing up towards Belial with feigned disinterest. From this angle, his eyelashes look long. Pretty. Sandalphon is not aware.

What he is aware of, however, is how big Belial’s hand feels against his shoulder, through his clothing, and the thought alone makes his insides curl. He waits to speak.

Belial does so instead. “C’mon, c’mon. Stop ignoring me. It’ll just make me want to make you louder, you know?” His thumb presses into Sandalphon’s shoulder, and it almost feels good. “I’ve heard it before. You’ll sound so good screaming.”

It is quiet a moment, before Sandalphon actually speaks. The tone his drawl takes borders on bratty. “Ignoring you? Nearly impossible.” Not a lie. “You just hadn’t said anything worth responding to until now. Hmm… if you can barely make me speak now, why do you think you could make me be loud anywhere else?”

Oh, the glint in Belial’s eyes at the near-challenge reeks of bad ideas and bad paths, so much so that Sandalphon’s chest tightens and that feeling in his stomach curls further in on itself. It is danger, close to sinister, but also… enthralling. Addictive. The silence after Sandalphon had spoken peaks, and he licks his lips slowly. Waiting for Belial’s response.

It does not take too long. “Well, well,” he purrs, voice low and light, “Is that a challenge, Sandy?” The answer to the question stalls in Sandalphon’s throat, leaving his lips parted, and he thinks. Wonders, for a moment, if this— by any stretch of the imagination— is a good idea.

He does not kid himself. In no realm does this come close to being a good idea.

That does not stop the adrenaline that seems to course through his veins at what Belial means by this. Sandalphon does not know for sure but he can damn as well guess.

“It isn’t a challenge,” he lies once more, so obvious, and Belial’s grin looks amused.“Just a question.” The rebuttal was about to end there, but Sandalphon, at the last second, adds— “Do you have an answer for it, or are you just going to waste my time?” Biting. Caustic.

“You should know better than anyone that I’m a shower, darling. How about I prove it?” Belial releases his grip on Sandalphon’s shoulder just to step in front of him, so much so that they are now only an inch or two apart— and at this distance, Sandalphon has to crane his neck a bit to look up at him. The difference in their heights and statures and sizes overall irritates Sandalphon to no end, but even now he cannot help but admit that it… makes this risk more enthralling.

(Bigger, taller, Belial has got to be the same height as—)

“Go ahead, then. Prove it.” The words are sharp, immediate, almost like he is saying them as quickly as possible so he has no chance to regret them. Or truly think about what they mean.

The smile that graces Belial’s lips reminds Sandalphon that this is a predator, something that would love nothing more than to bask in the destruction of every last part of him that remains holy.

With a voice akin to honey— “Follow me, then.”


Belial spreads Sandalphon's legs wide, grinning slowly as they fall right apart on the bed. Flexible. Welcoming. This sight is good, great, perfect, an archangel, so lovely, looking so needy and ready to be fucked right underneath him, so tight and--

Ah. He knows this situation does not exist of his own volition. He knows better than to get greedy. Belial knows he is being used.

That, however, is not going to stop him from immensely enjoying this desecration, this destruction of such purity, because a willing demise is the best type. Sandalphon urges this on, moves his hips and flutters his lashes, licks his lips and grips the bedsheets while two slicked up fingers slip into him with a care Belial only affords because the payout will be worth it.

"Ooh," he croons, crooking his fingers up and relishing in the pretty arch Sandalphon's back makes, "You've done this at least before, haven't you? To yourself? I can tell."  Just the thought makes Belial's grin spread into something heinous. "An angel succumbing so easily to carnal pleasures by himself… It gets me even hotter, you know?"

Something about the fact that Belial knows how easy it would be for Sandalphon to tear away from him makes it even more delicious when he sneers, thrashing his head to the side if only to not have to look at Belial's face. It is almost adorable. “I— I— ah. Mmm, just be quiet and—“

Feigning disappointment comes too easily as Belial presses a third finger in none-too-gently, clicking his tongue and effectively making Sandalphon cut himself off with a shout. "You're rude little thing, aren't you? I know what my purpose here is. Do you seek to just use me as a toy, Sandy? How mean.” Leaning closer, pressing his heavy frame against Sandalphon’s smaller one, he coos, “Ah, but you’re so lucky. My fingers reach further than yours did, don’t they? They’re thicker, longer. Go ahead, show me your appreciation.” On cue, his fingers curl so cruelly, as if trying to pull noises right out by themselves. Sandalphon’s voice tapers into the most whiny moan Belial’s ever heard, and it is so mouthwatering that he cannot help but mirror the noise himself.

Sandalphon loathes the enjoyment, he loathes how much his body and mind respond to all this attention and treatment from a being he should have never sought out in the first place. Belial is many, many sins combined, and it feels as if each one of those sins were being imparted upon Sandalphon with each movement of those long fingers. He hates the thrill. Frustration mixes too well with the pleasure spreading across his chest, making it more difficult to determine if that frustration is from disgust or impatience. Likely both.

Ah, something about merely having his clothes opened enough for access feels vile but convenient— spread open and apart so Belial can do as he has been allowed to do. Perhaps that fact is what continues to sting… Allowed, allowed, allowed. Desired. Sandalphon desires this treatment. Craves it.

“More.” His ears burn with embarrassment at how much that genuinely sounds like a whimper. “Give m-me— ah— more…”

The wide, broad palm of Belial’s other hand moves to rest flat against Sandalphon’s still-clothed chest. “Virgins are the most needy, aren’t they? I give you such a sweet taste and you demand more. Do you even know what you ask for?” His fingers pinch at one of Sandalphon’s nipples through the cloth and Belial relishes in the gasping he gets in response. “Are you sensitive out of want or out of unfamiliarity?” He does not expect an answer, and that much is obvious as he leans forward to run his teeth over the other nipple— the ministrations earn even lovelier gasps. “Oooh, what noises… I could play with these cute tits of yours for hours if I didn’t want to get you on my cock so badly.” Leaning away then, Belial slips his fingers out of Sandalphon, groaning when he hears the other’s whimpers.

It makes him impatient; he all but rushes to finally unzip his pants.

Belial’s cock is thick, a bit curved, dripping and leaking— something decidedly not mortal, but it is not like Sandalphon would know otherwise. All he can tell, as he exhales puffs of breath and glances down, is that he has no idea if— “…that will even fit…” He does not seem to have noticed that he spoke out loud, and he would not have known had it not been for Belial’s laugh.

“Ohhh, Sandy, you’re killin’ me here, you know? Asking something like that… how cute. Makes me want to not take my time turning you into a mess. Don’t worry, though.” Leaning forward, he grips Sandalphon’s pretty thighs, spreading them right apart. “It might hurt a bit, but this cute little ass of yours will open up for me so well.”

He tries to hiss, tries to look and sound threatening but that is extremely difficult considering his legs are wide open and cheeks flushed from embarrassment and desire. Sandalphon continues regardless. “Do you ever stop speaking? Just— just hurry up and— and do it.” The lack of specificity is purposeful.

Belial, of course, picks up on it immediately. He lets the tip of his cock nudge right at Sandalphon’s entrance, teasingly and almost mockingly, while he presses Sandalphon’s knees to his chest. “Do, what?” Simple, light. Belial’s eyes are half-lidded and dark as he looks down at him, his gaze filled to the brim with… treachery, perhaps? Lust. Sandalphon is a meal few will ever get to have and Belial plans to enjoy every single bite.

At that very moment, when Sandalphon manages to huff out a “Hurry up and fuck me,” he realizes truly how much bigger Belial is than him. And then— oh, it hurts, this cock cannot possibly, possibly, possibly— fit inside him?

But Belial presses forward slowly, groaning out sooooo lowly, grips on Sandalphon’s skin darkening. “You’re tighter than I thought you would be, warmer, hotter, oh, Sandy— if I had less control, I wouldn’t even be able to wait—” Sandalphon is barely listening.

He cannot, he physically cannot, because Belial’s cock monopolizes his senses currently; barely halfway in, Sandalphon feels split in half. Almost split in half. Tears well at the edges of his eyes and he moves his hands to try and cover his face.

Or— that is what he tried to do. Belial sees, though, and those tears are so lovely he cannot help but want more. Sandalphon has opened himself up and Belial cannot help but take every last bit of him there is to offer. As if in response to Sandalphon trying to hide, Belial snaps his hips forward, that control he touted seeming like a lie.

(Maybe it was. Maybe he wanted Sandalphon to think him better than he is.)

Sandalphon nearly shouts again, almost biting his own hand; it gives Belial a chance, though, to grab his wrists and pin them right to the bed underneath them both. “C’mon,” he croons, pressed against Sandalphon again, grinning like those tears sustain him, “Don’t hide a single sound that falls from your lips from me, understand? If you want to use me, I get to use you too, Sandy. Be nice and loud for me, okay? I want to hear how much it hurts and how good it feels. You won’t be able to tell the difference soon.”

The difference, the difference, the difference, Sandalphon can barely tell already— he feels full.  (He feels all of Belial’s attention on him.) He feels like he cannot breathe because there is only so much preparation that three fingers can do for a cock as big as Belial’s.

“It d-doesn’t hurt.” It is such an obvious lie. Belial huffs out a laugh, squeezing Sandalphon’s wrists. Speaking takes more air than he likely has available, but if it is to prove he is okay, okay, okay, he can manage it, he can grit his teeth and force out words.“I’m just n-not used t—“

“—a dick in your ass? Oooh, don’t lie either. Are these tears just for show?” But, forcing out words and putting on an act proves to be much, much more difficult when one is laid as bare as Sandalphon is.

No… it is “vulnerable.” He feels vulnerable. Where did the boldness to lie come from while he lies under an enemy, legs spread wide, cheeks flushed?

Belial devours that vulnerability in a fraction of a heartbeat. “Here I was, trying to be nice again, too.” He does not take the time to elaborate; instead, he rocks his hips back then slowly forward, if only to see Sandalphon’s chest fall down with an exhale. Trying to hold his breath. How cute.

A moment’s pause, and Belial presses himself right against Sandalphon so he can slam into him hard. The sudden snap of his hips and the forgoing of that slow speed is enough to earn a scream— a sweet, loud scream that tapers off into the loveliest whimpers, betraying the act from only seconds before.

He starts a pace that will make Sandalphon’s voice go raw. Belial fucks him with corruption in mind, basking in each scream, shout, and cry he drags out from Sandalphon’s chest. The noises reward him. Reducing an archangel to tears is one thing; being asked to is even better. Sandalphon is willing, here, and the fact makes each sob sound better.

“Look at you, barely able to breathe… I could keep you like this all night, Sandy. Fuck you ’til your eyes roll back and you pass out. Ah…” Belial’s sharp teeth scratch at the skin of Sandalphon’s neck, leaving trails, and he moans as he drags his tongue up to catch the drops of blood. Sweet. “You’re writhing on a cock that’s almost too big for you to even take in… I love it, love it. How does it feel? How does it feel getting stretched so wide?”

Each thrust hits so deep, deeper than Sandalphon thought possible— his fingers could never do this, nothing could ever do this for him, only Belial could. Only Belial’s cock could. “G-Good, good, good— It f-feels… good— hurts—“ He tries to lie, tries to form much more coherent sentences, but it is cruel of Belial to ask questions when he knows there is not a way for Sandalphon to properly focus.

Belial leans up just so he can move to lick the tears off of Sandalphon’s cheeks, releasing his hold on the other’s wrists without letting up on his thrusts; he no longer worries that Sandalphon may try to hide any noises. Instead, he gets his hands right on Sandalphon’s lithe waist, lifting him up from the bed just enough so that Belial can finally bottom out with the new angle. “B-B-B— ah, y-you’re—” Belial hits something inside of him again and again and again that makes Sandalphon sob out his moans, grip at the bedsheets and arch his back, barely coherent. He feels the pressure in his lower abdomen reach a pinnacle, and he cums hard, so violently, but Belial does not stop moving in the slightest.

Instead, Belial's hips move harder, hitting right against Sandalphon’s as he fucks him through his orgasm. “Oh, oh, Sandy,” he jeers cruelly, making sure to get his dick right against Sandalphon’s prostate with nearly every thrust, “Climaxing just from getting sodomized by a fallen angel… How dirty. Maybe I should praise you, though? I did say you’d open up for me, even if it’s still a really tight fit.” His voice stays mocking as he continues to fuck into Sandalphon deep and fast, watching as Sandalphon comes close to losing himself from the overstimulation. “You’re doing so well, t-taking my cock in your tight little ass— letting me fuck your brains out. It’s almost a pity you don’t have anything to compare it to.”

Sandalphon barely understands what Belial says anymore, but he nods, accepting this near-euphoric state of detached bliss as he gets fucked right towards a second orgasm.; this time, though, he can recognize the feeling building up. Drool drips down his chin as he squeezes even tighter around Belial’s cock, making Belial groan low in his throat, nails digging into Sandalphon’s hips. “Fuck, you’re gonna take my seed well too, aren’t you?” His thrusts get even rougher and out of control as he gasps hotly, “C’mon, Sandy, squeeze my thick cock tighter, make it so I fill you u-up, so we climax together—!” Sandalphon grabs onto Belial’s shoulders tight and Belial buries himself as deep as he can in the tense heat, cumming with such a loud, raucous fervor that his cheeks flush red and he throws his head back.

The ecstasy almost bears too much on Sandalphon when he climaxes himself, so much so that he does not even scream— he genuinely blacks out for a second, back arching high off the bed as Belial cums deep inside him. It fills him so much, too much, it hurts, Sandalphon feels so full that his abdomen hurts. 

He feels himself on the bare edges of consciousness, eyes hazy and body with barely any ability to move at the moment— or maybe he didn't have the will to, yet. Even when Belial moves to pull out of him, Sandalphon finds himself grabbing the other's arm to stop him from moving. "Not yet," he breathes out, voice rough, almost sounding like a soft plead. "Don't."

Belial's lips quirk, and he nuzzles his head against Sandalphon's neck, chuckling. "You're too mortal, Sandy." 

"I've known."