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You Get Me Closer to God

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There was nothing that the Devil himself loved more than corrupting the purest of beings, angels.

Yeah, you heard that right. The devil. And no, not the ugly ass goat dude that the media, for god knows what reason, liked portraying him as. He hadn’t changed the way he’d looked for years, millenia that was, and he still looked like he was in his early twenties. Carefully styled black hair that sometimes brushed against his slightly upturned nose. Cat-like gaze that discerned things too quickly for comfort. Slim, petite figure with pretty little curves in all the right places. Ever since the gruesome war in Heaven that sent him and hundreds of rebellious angels hurling out of God's graces, and into the realm of what Christians now called ‘Hell', he hadn't known a moment of peace. All because Lucifer wanted his own free will. To not have to suffer through every day having to bow down to a merciless being that didn’t care about his creations. He was charged with the task of endlessly torturing human- and not human- souls for the rest of eternity.

They tell you the devil enjoys his job, don’t they? They were sorely mistaken. It was the same thing, every time a soul was passed down into the realm of the ungrateful dead. He’d be the judge of what happened to them- which circle they belonged in, if their crimes were extreme enough. A good chunk of the time, he’d have his right hand man, who he’d dubbed Sicheng, make all the decisions for him.

And as of recently, he’d taken to staying in the most obvious of places. Earth. And what could be more ironic than him residing in an outrageously expensive, gaudy mansion right in Los Angeles- the infamous City of Angels. No one knew exactly what his official profession was, but god, did they love him, adored him, begged to get into his bed whenever they got the chance. And he’d be damned if he turned down the pleasures of debauchery.

His hobbies hadn’t changed in centuries. Leading angels off the path of righteousness. And yeah, maybe it was a ploy to start yet another war, but that was irrelevant. His mouth watered constantly thinking about his imminent victory over the being that had ripped out his radiant, majestic wings and flung him through his holy gates. He would rather burn alive than admit it, but he missed having the most beautiful wings a celestial could ever have- and, yeah, that did mean he missed being the beloved, cherished son.

Usually, you’d find him in any uppity, way too expensive party, doing body shots off men and women alike, picking and choosing just who exactly he’d bother wasting his time on. But tonight, a cold night in November? He was being summoned. He felt the fire starting to shoot through his veins like a shot of your best Fireball or Patron. He hadn’t been summoned in quite some time- most human beings were just too scared of him, and that suited him just fine. There was the occasional cultist that thought they had it in them to handle his power, but no one ever met those expectations. Mortals were too weak, and almost always went batshit insane after seeing his true face. And why wouldn’t they? He was terrifying. There was no way to properly explain the way he looked, but he’d seen the look of pure horror bloom in their eyes, mind rotting away into absolutely nothing.

Fixing his golden cuffs, he waited for the demonic ways of the world to suck him to where he needed to be, bored look carefully written across his face.

However, what he stumbled upon was definitely not what he was expecting. And yeah, he was expecting some mid-twenties weedy looking male who thought they knew what they were doing, probably because his ego was so inflated you climb it and get to the moon. But instead he saw a scared teenager, plump lips quivering, brown doe eyes widened in terror. Obviously, this was NOT what he’d wanted. If Ten had to take a guess, it would be that he was trying to summon some lesser demon, but had either messed up the incantation or his pronunciation. It was easy to do with Latin, at all.

Ten cocked an eyebrow, tilting his head slightly to the side to analyze the kid. He couldn’t be older than, what, nineteen? He looked horrified, mind racing a million miles an hour, trying to figure out how the fuck he was going to get himself out of this. Before he could open his mouth, he held up his hand, silver rings glinting in the firelight menacingly. “Next time you try to summon a demon, I advise you not to. We have better things to do, and I promise you I won’t be so kind next time. I will end you,” his voice wasn’t angry; on the contrary, it was calm. And that’s what was most scary about it. The calmer he sounded, the more dangerous he was. And who the hell wanted to piss off the Devil himself?

“I- oh my god- I mean-” he couldn’t even get any proper words out, mouth flopping like a fish out of water. It was kind of adorable, if you asked Ten. “I’m so sorry,” he finally got out, whispering, barely audible. “I didn’t mean to, I-” his head ducked briefly to look at the stereotypically heavy, dusty tomb sitting on his bed, page dog-eared as if it was imperative he save it. “I was trying to summon Abaddon-”

Ah. There it was. Abaddon and his Furies. The sowers of discord. Some thought he was the Devil, because some cursed book wrote him as such. But no, they were two different beings. Ten hadn’t unleashed locusts unto thousands of mortals, no. That was too… tame for what he was capable of. Abaddon was an angel that had fought by his side in the great celestial war, and had subsequently ended up shackled in hell right by his side.

Ten snorted in derision. “Abaddon? Did you foolishly think he was me? Next time, don’t read from the Acts of Thomas,” his lips curled in disdain.. “He’s not the antichrist. You’re looking at him.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” he mumbled under his breath, unable to look him in the eyes. Ten didn’t know where the sudden burst of confidence came from, but he couldn’t say he enjoyed it. Humans were interesting little creations except when they didn’t have any respect.

“Watch your mouth,” he snarled, then continued, “If you’re done, I’d like to return to my party. I don’t have the time for a stupid, impudent teenager that doesn’t know his incantations nor his demons.” He was ready to be gone, forget about the night. God, was his time wasted. Not that he didn’t have an eternity to do whatever he pleased, but even so. The kid- Yangyang, according to the board hanging near his bed- nodded hastily, ready to be rid of him.

Ten gave him one last disgusted look before he was on his way back to the place he called his mortal home, already striding towards the massive open bar. And no, he couldn’t get even the slightest bit drunk, and that’s what made it fun. He’d just gotten done pouring himself a glass of Scotch, clean, before something caught his eye.

And why wouldn’t it? There was no mistaking that heavenly light.

 

Enter Qian Kun. Facial features sculpted by- quite literally- God. Sharp eyes. Blonde hair perfectly styled. The favourite angel, cherished and loved, held in such high esteem by every ethereal being it made Ten want to vomit.

And yeah. Ten wanted to ruin him the minute he’d noticed him standing on his balcony. He never thought he’d even… see him. He’d seen him once, centuries ago, but unfortunately, it was merely just the back of his head, since he was kissing the supreme ruler’s ass, as usual.

Kun’s wings expanded protectively from the length of his back, magnificent, radiant, almost painful to look at. Any human would have burned up if they laid eyes on such a thing. Ten guessed, Kun was that kid’s guardian angel, sworn to protect him from the minute he left his mother’s womb.

“How dare you show your face at a summoning,” his voice was scornful, not even bothering to go over the small talk, the theatrics. Straight to the point, then. But Ten wasn’t having any of it, lips twitched up fiendishly.

“You don’t even bother to say hi or ask how my day was, how rude,” he quipped, sipping his alcohol. He knew damn well he was being a little shit, but annoying angels was rather fun. Especially since they tended to have sticks up their asses.

His tone remained the same as he glared him down, “I’m not playing games tonight, Samael,” Chills ran through his bones. He hadn’t properly gone by that name in... well, far too long. Fury coursed through his veins. It was a filthy, cursed name.

“That’s not my n-”

Kun, cut over him coldly, “I don’t particularly care. You know you need to return to Hell immediately. Your presence on Earth is forbidden, as it always has been.” His eyes flicked up and down his smaller frame, head barely bent to the side. Ten held his gaze steadily, ignoring the fact that this angel was absolutely, no doubt about it, the most powerful celestial being aside from His Holiness, and therefore, he should be scared of him. But why would he? He was the antichrist, after all. Kun was always talked about in hushed tones, with reverence. Everyone knew his name- if you believed in it, he was the one to bless Mary of Nazareth's barren womb and allowed the birth of God’s son. “He’s tired of giving you chances. Personally, I don’t think he should have given you any in the first place. You made your decision.” disgust oozed from his mouth, irritation glinting in his eyes.

“I’ve never, in my millenias of being alive, met such an uptight, snotty angel. Sit down and have a drink or two- oh, wait, you can’t. You’re too far up His feathered hole.” Ten sneered condescendingly, the blonde’s eyes drilling holes into him. Most would have averted in timidity, but no. Not Ten. He was the favourite son, after all. Or… had been. He wasn’t about to get pushed around, not like this.

“When will you ever stop being so rebellious?” his words were scathing, albeit true. “It’s been far too long for you to keep holding this absurd grudge. Get over yourself. You got what you wanted, yeah? You have your own domain, so rule it.”

Ten stretched his neck from side to side, bored, the angels words going in one ear and out the other. “Are you done?” he groaned. He’d known this lecture was coming- he’d heard it, well, more than a couple dozen times. It was the same shit, over and over and over. Go back to hell, blah blah blah. The thing is, he’d never wanted a place to rule in the first place, no matter how God tried to misconstrue the story. He only went down to earth in the first place to teach those imbeciles a few things so they didn’t have to rely so much on their creator.

Kun watched him for a few minutes quietly. Finally, “yes, I’m done. But if you’re not vacated from Earth within the next few days, you will not enjoy the consequences, I can promise you that.”

But Ten had already made up his mind. Every angel was breakable, he’d proven that many, many times. He was nothing if not insufferable and seductive. His eyes half-lidded, he met his cold gaze and approached him, ever so close. If he’d been human… well, he’d be burnt to a crisp instantly.

It wasn’t long before Ten had him spun tightly around his little finger, pressing kisses down his sharp jawline. It was wrong. So fucking wrong. Evil himself sitting on his muscular thighs, grinding down like the textbook definition of sin.

“You’re a filthy fucking sinner,” Ten swore sweetly, rolling his hips up and down, Kun whining beneath him. “Wish He could see his favorite angel, getting hard over the Devil rubbing himself against your cock. How pathetic. You’re gonna get your pretty wings plucked out.” Just like he did. Sicheng always did him that he had a kink for corruption solely to get revenge for what happened to him. Whatever, Ten would always reply, telling him just exactly where he could shove it.

“Fuck off,” his snarl was near animalistic, and it brought Ten more than immense joy hearing it.

“Now, now.” he cooed condescendingly, brushing his fingers tauntingly over his perfect cheekbones. “Watch your little mouth. Wouldn’t want Him to disown you, now would we? Be a good boy. I know you want me.”

The angel’s eyes flared with anger. But behind that, behind the fury, behind the hatred? What Ten knew all too well as lust. Kun wasn’t slick.

“Do I have to do all the work myself?” the angel stared at him with shock, until Ten bounced his hips and with newfound fervor, his hands were furiously trying to rip the button down from his torso. He didn’t give a shit that Ten had scoffed at him, he didn’t give a shit that every celestial bone inside of his body was telling him to stop, this was wrong, this was so fucking wrong. All he wanted was him.

Eventually, the smaller male was completely undressed and Kun- well, Kun was about to bust in his no longer crisp slacks. Ten had purposefully left him in them, it indulged his humiliation kink just a little bit. “You’re going to watch me.” he pressed his mouth against his ear, whispering, sliding his tongue over the outer shell.

Then he did something that was one hundred percent unfair and mind boggling. He draped himself against Kun’s chest, head tipped back on his shoulder, legs spread carefully as he sucked two fingers into his mouth. He wasn’t even subtle about meeting his eyes when he pushed the digits into his hole, a low groan leaving him. His pants were uncomfortably tight, he could almost cry from how devastatingly hard he was.

Ten was gentle and careful with the way he stretched himself, taking his sweet ass time. His cock- god, everything was pretty about him, wasn’t it?- was laying useless against his stomach as he slowly rode his own fingers, adding a third one before he was completely satisfied. Kun had whined while he prepped himself; how couldn’t he? The way he moaned, all breathily and confidently, the way Kun wanted to reach down and wrap his hand around him, watch him cum all over.

He didn’t dwell too long on it, however, as Ten was maneuvering himself back down his thighs and playing with his belt, a smirk playing hide and go seek on his face- barely there and then gone without a trace. “Mm, poor little thing, “ he cooed, palming him through his pants. Kun instantly locked up, praying to God that he would keep his composure. “You got so hard just watching me play with myself. Are you gonna cum inside me the minute your dick is in?” his words were scathing, degrading, but he couldn’t find it in himself to be offended; it was just plain fucking hot.

Kun couldn’t even say anything to defend himself. Instead he just bucked his hips upwards pathetically, causing Ten to snicker quietly and pull off the pants along with his boxers, eyes lighting up with delight. “You angels never fail to disappoint me. Perfect beings indeed…” His fingers worked what smelled like strawberry lube over his cock, ignoring his desperate pleads to be touched more.

Ten slowly lowered himself down, body relaxed, strong thighs keeping himself in his position of control. Kun couldn't take his eyes off of him, he was so enamored with the way his glistening lips parted in a moan from being filled up so well, he was enamored with the way his head fell back as he sunk all the way down to the base.

“Fucking hell,” he whimpered, taking a moment to absorb everything before lifting himself back up and dropping back down. It only took a few minutes before Ten had built a perfect rhythm for himself- Kun was sure he was going to burst any minute. The tiny little thing was indescribably tight around him, clamping around his cock like a vice. And by fucking god, he was flexible and bouncy in the most delicious ways.

 

Kun couldn’t keep his hands to himself any longer. His rather large hand wrapped itself around Ten’s cock, which had been previously untouched, laying all pretty against his toned stomach. Ten whimpered softly as Kun circled his thumb around the slit, being as gentle as possible- he also had absolutely no idea what exactly he was doing, just executing what he’d witnessed humans doing- and oh boy, had he witnessed probably far too much, some things he’d wished he’d never lain his eyes on. That wasn’t the point. He kept doing what felt right, judging by the way Ten responded, free hand resting on his hip, helping him lift his petite body up and down.

Ten leaned down, feverishly pressing their lips together, soft little whines escaping him. It wasn’t necessarily like him to kiss the ones he slept with, but it also wasn’t like him to be enjoying the sex this much. His teeth grazed his bottom lip, and, before Kun could react, he started sucking markings into his once unblemished neck. His muth curved into a wicked smirk as he murmured against his skin, “have fun being marked like the filthy little thing you are, Qian Kun.”

And somehow, that was the breaking limit for him. Maybe it was the way he said it, in that sexy way of his. Maybe it was the degradation and humiliation of it. But Kun was shouting, briefly going blind with pleasure as he released into his heat. There’s no way he should feel that good, it was wrong, but he couldn’t bring himself to give a shit as his eyes groggily opened. And just in time, too.

Ten had his head thrown back, body arched in the prettiest way possible, lips forming into gasps and whines and moans as he came all over Kun’s hips and torso. “Fuck,” he gasped as he rode his high, his delicious high, something he hadn’t gotten the full experience of in far too long. And that’s when Kun knocked out, smile gently but firmly planted on his face as his hand slipped from Ten’s slim waist. Ten leaned down and pressed a kiss on his forehead, murmuring something about how he was a surprisingly good fuck. But he didn’t quite catch it.

Ten looked up at the darkened sky, malicious grin spread across his face as Kun laid passed out beneath him- just a simple trick he’d used so the angel didn’t get in his way- nails digging slightly into his chest as if he was… claiming him.

And that’s exactly what he was doing.

“He’s mine, and there’s not a single thing you can do about it.” he whispered, knowing perfectly well just exactly who was listening. He sincerely hoped this would start another holy war. And he would be damned if he wasn’t absolutely ready for it. To go head to head with his ‘beloved’ father. He wanted a war, and he’d get one.