Roy can smell angel on the air the moment he walks into the bar, above the always potent stink of humanity that covers the place from floor to ceiling.
It’s late in the evening, almost true night, and Roy is hunting. It’s the only reason he ever comes out to places like this one, human clubs where the ambiance can hardly be called thrilling for one of his kind. If he were looking to party for real, there are other bars he could visit. Clubs built specifically to cater for demons, angels working on Earth, and every supernatural creature in between. But those places have complications that come with them. Rules and restrictions that make them less than ideal for an incubus looking to sate his hunger, which is why he’s here instead.
The smell is so potent, so overpowering, that Roy finds himself having to pause in the doorway to breath it in. Whoever the angel that’s lurking here is, he or she is strong. Too strong maybe, to be visiting a dark and dingy human joint like this one. At least not without good reason.
Most demons, wary of being purged and burnt clean by holy fire, would take that as a sign to turn around and walk straight back out the door before they could be noticed in turn, but Roy has never been most demons. His immediate reaction is curiosity and hunger, rather than fear. So instead of leaving, he just continues forward on his path into the bar, tightening the glamour of his disguise around himself as his only act of self preservation before letting his eyes start to roam across the dark confines of the room in search of the source of that power.
Hm. It’s not on the dance floor, currently filled with grinding teenagers who are definitely under the legal drinking age in this part of the world (for that, Roy gives them a small mental cheer, knowing that minor sin will soon lead them down the path of greater ones), nor is it in the cluster of small tables where older couples and some lone men and women — his usual targets — are sat drinking their short mortal lives away.
No. It’s closer than that, and it’s only when Roy lets his gaze travel up towards the bar at the head of the room itself that he finds what he’s looking for.
A man, tall and broad shouldered. He’s sitting with his back to Roy atop one of the tall cushioned stools, but Roy hardly needs to see his face or what lurks beneath his guise of humanity to identify what he is. His aura does that for him. It’s unmistakably angelic, sharp like burnt ozone in the air, and the closer he gets without the man turning around or seeming to notice his presence, the more Roy’s excitement grows.
To take down an angel would be a point of pride for any demon. A notch on their belt; bragging rights that would raise them higher not only in the eyes of their fellows, but also those of the greater powers who sit and watch from below (not that Roy’s ever much cared about that last part). And for an incubus in particular…
He’s always wanted to know what an angel’s power tastes like.
Walking up to the bar, and ignoring the covetous glances he gets from the humans around him on the way there, Roy slides into the seat next to the angel, and gets his first real look at his chosen quarry for this evening.
As it turns out, tall and broad shouldered is the least of what he finds pleasing about the angel’s looks. Which…maybe it’s good luck, maybe it’s angelic power, but whatever it is, Roy is counting his lucky stars that out of all the bars in his territory, he chose to come to this particular club tonight.
A pair of blue, almost green eyes look out at him from under dark, thickly curled eyelashes. Set in a face that while not classically handsome, is nonetheless striking in its beauty as the angel turns his head to face Roy. An action prompted by the ‘accidental’ brushing of his knee against the man’s thigh as he climbed onto the stool beside him. Despite himself, and what he is, Roy can’t help staring a little at the crooked line of the man’s nose, the sharp angle of his stubbled jaw, and the warm sensual turn of his mouth.
Idly, he wonders what that mouth would look like stretched around his cock.
“Can I help you?” Thankfully, a deep voice, deep as can be expected for the size of its owner, interrupts those thoughts before Roy can let himself get carried too far down into them.
There’ll be plenty of time for that later.
Roy smiles with very real delight at the opening he’s been given. There’s nothing friendly in the angel’s expression, but he’s worked with far worse. “I don’t know. Maybe. You know what’s good to drink around here?”
“You’re asking me that?” the angel replies, expression now only mildly puzzled rather than outright annoyed. He lifts up his hand, letting Roy get a good look at his scarred knuckles as he jerks his thumb down at the other end of the bar. “You know the bartender’s right there.”
“Bartenders always lie,” he replies smoothly. “They want you to buy what’s most expensive, not what’s best. Better for business that way.”
“Still doesn’t explain why you’re asking me that question out of everybody here.”
This time Roy shrugs one shoulder, lets his eyes dip and the smile widen across his face, dimpling his cheeks in a way he knows is fetching. “Maybe I just wanted an excuse to talk to you.”
The slight widening of eyes he gets in return for that comment is beyond pleasing.
The angel turns his head away, down to the largely untouched drink in front of him. Alcohol doesn’t actually do much to affect them, not unless they let it, which makes Roy guess he’s mostly drinking for show. To blend in amongst the humans. “Right. Considering you couldn’t have gotten an actual look at my face until just now, forgive me for not believing that.”
“Maybe just now was all I needed.” Roy keeps smiling, not letting himself be daunted for a second. It’s risky to use his power on an angel, but he’s pretty sure if he’s careful, and does it subtly enough, he’ll do just fine in getting away with it.
Judging by the small pink flush now running across the angel’s cheeks, he’s not wrong in that assessment. “That’s a pretty bad line.”
“I know. Did it work?”
With a human, Roy would be able to feel out their preferences in an instant. He’d be able to tell if they wanted a partner who was shy or confident, sultry or demure. With an angel, he can’t risk probing that deeply without giving himself away. Which leaves him having to play this largely by ear, something he usually only has to do when trying to seduce one of his own kind.
It’s thrilling to say the least. Especially with the added danger of what could happen if he fails.
The angel picks up his drink and takes a sip from it, before — to Roy’s great delight — signalling the bartender to bring him two more of the same. “It’s not the worst I’ve ever heard.”
Roy waits for the drinks to be poured and the bartender to leave again before continuing. “So what’s your name, handsome?”
“Jason,” he repeats, turning the syllables over in his mouth as if tasting them. An angel named for an Ancient Greek hero, how interesting (or who knows, maybe it’s the other way around). “I’m Roy.”
“Roy.” Jason knocks back the rest of his drink, and keeping to his role, Roy quickly follows suit. He barely tastes the alcohol as it slides down his throat, too interested in watching the man in front of him to pay attention to it. “This your first time visiting this dive, Roy?”
“My first time with you here.”
This time Jason laughs. It’s adorable, the way he ducks his head as if he doesn’t know quite where to look, hiding his eyes under the thick curls of his fringe. “Jesus, I… you this forward with everyone you meet?”
“No,” he says in reply, almost purring the words, “not everyone.”
“You saying I’m special?”
Leaning forwards against the bar, Roy lets his foot brush against Jason’s leg. Touching his ankle before running higher up his calf. “Mm, would you like to be?”
Jason looks him slowly up and down on the stool, his eyes lingering for a moment on the bare muscles of Roy’s arms, and then over his chest, where the buttons at the top of his red silk vest have been purposefully loosened to give a glimpse of the pale freckled skin underneath, before settling back on his face.
“Yeah,” Jason says, a little breathlessly. “I think I would.”
They barely make it out to the alleyway behind the bar before Roy is turning round, pushing Jason back against the nearest wall and kissing him.
Normally once he has a target successfully in his thrall, he takes them back to a hotel room, or in the case of those he intends to completely devour, his den. It’s different with the angel though. He’s too hungry, too eager to wait — and too cautious of the danger of his control wearing off before they can get there. It’s better he finish this quickly, as much as he’d like to savour the moment.
“You…” Jason gasps when the kiss breaks. His mouth is softer than anything Roy’s ever tasted before. “Here…? Really?”
“I don’t want to wait,” Roy says truthfully, pressing the entire length of his body up against Jason’s as he curls one hand in the angel’s hair. “Do you mind?”
“No… no, I just... you’re sure this is what you want? Really sure?”
It’s almost sinfully sweet, how considerate he is. Exactly as Roy would expect of an angel.
“Positive,” he replies. His other hand slides up under the back of the leather jacket Jason’s wearing, before grinding their hips together. That smell of burnt ozone in the air is even stronger than before, scouring his nostrils and the back of his throat. Roy loves it.
Jason groans, low and deep in his chest, and Roy hums encouragement as he feels hands on him. One finds his hair, fisting in the long waves of it he‘s left free to brush his shoulders, and the other falls to his waist and hooks into one of the belt loops of his jeans. Both tug him closer with an easy strength that Roy can’t help but shiver at the display of. The angel could probably kill him with its bare hands, but honestly the first thing that comes to mind is how easy it would be for Jason to hold him up against a wall with that kind of power running under his skin. Or hold him down; Roy’s definitely not averse to some rough times, if the partner’s right.
“You’re just gorgeous,” Roy groans, fighting to keep a very careful hold on his own power. Even now, it would be all too easy for him to use just a little too much and snap the angel right back out of his haze. Or if he missteps… “Kiss me, baby?”
Jason leans into him, eyes half-lidded and hand sliding sure around his waist. There’s a moment of pause, wetting lips and mouth slightly parted as Jason’s gaze lifts from his lips to meet his gaze. “I’m not your fucking baby.”
Roy blinks, senses lighting up with danger but it’s a second too slow, too—
A knee cracks right in between his legs. Roy shouts in pain — angel strength, holy fuck — and the hand fisted in his hair is leverage to yank him around to the side, slamming him into the wall with enough power to make it crack. He’s dazed, reeling as he’s tossed down onto the alley floor with casual ease and all he can do is sprawl there. Is he bleeding? He’s pretty sure he’s bleeding somewhere in the vicinity of… his face. That’s inconvenient.
It takes a couple blinks for the world to stop spinning, and even then it shifts sickeningly when he tries to push up and roll over. Oh fuck, everything between his legs feels bruised to the bone. He can enjoy a lot of pain but shit. He can’t even bring himself to close his legs and try and protect it, knowing what kind of pressure that might introduce, and that’s a definite problem because as he’s shaking off the worst of the daze he’s realizing that he’s being circled. Jason is circling him.
He lifts his gaze to try and keep track, and gets caught on the smooth, rolling grace of his stalk. Like a predator. A warrior born. Grace and power and confidence in every little shift of movement.
It’s really fucking hot.
Jason strikes in a sudden burst, stepping forward to grab his hair and dragging him back to his feet. He yelps, legs nearly giving out, and that bit doesn’t even matter because Jason’s closing his other hand around Roy’s throat and cracking him back against the alley wall. One perfectly angled thumb keeps his chin up, his windpipe compressed. He chokes, grabbing at Jason’s wrist but finding himself suddenly unable to move the limb even an inch. Bashful, giving skin turning in an instant to unyielding, steel-like power.
(Except steel he can bend with his hands, if he wants to. The angel is heaven-forged light and the raw power of God.)
“You really thought I fell for that act in there?” the angel says through a sneer, blue-green eyes narrowed and most definitely no longer half-lidded and warm with pleasure. “You thought you could get one over on one of my kind? You’re not that subtle or that skilled, Roy; I made you the moment you walked into that bar.”
He can’t get free, but he does manage to lift himself just enough to grab a breath and groan back, “Not the only one. That whole bar smelled like you; you were easy to find, angel.”
Jason’s fingers tighten on his throat, and there’s a rough, bitter laugh that sets Roy on edge with how wrong it feels. “I haven’t gone by that title in a long time, incubus. And I don’t give a damn who can find me.”
Roy’s stomach twists then, alongside the world around them. He recognises what Jason is doing instantly, pulling them, and the alleyway, out of this dimension and into another. ‘Phase shifting,’ they call it, or ‘Going behind the scenes’ if you want to use the more colourful term. A useful trick for any demon or angel wanting to fight or fuck, and not have to deal with the consequences of mortal witnesses to it afterwards.
Except that there’s something wrong with the place Jason’s pulling them into. From an angel, Roy would expect to find light, warmth, and beauty waiting on the other side of the curtain, but instead, what he actually sees overhead is a far more familiar vista. Red skies, like the colour of old meat, accompanied by the smell of sulphur in the air. The whole alley is cast in a dull, red light that fades out a lot of the contrasts of it.
Hell, or a facet of it. A place no angel should be able to reach.
“How did you…?” he starts to ask, eyes widening in disbelief, a second before Jason gives him his answer in the most spectacular way possible.
The wings that burst out from his shoulders are not the pure snowy white Roy would expect from one of God’s soldiers. They don’t glow with holy light, and his eyes don’t burn to look at them. How could they, when the pitch of his feathers is as black as night? Though no less impressive to look at for it.
“Holy shit…” Roy whispers, tearing his eyes away from those wings to look again into Jason’s face, where a white streak now hangs down out of his hair above eyes that are fully, violently green. “You’re— You—”
Jason sneers. “You think I care who notices me, demon? I’m Fallen; I’ve already faced everything there is to be scared of.”
Yeah, Roy thinks. He’s really fucked this one up.
Now the only question is, does he have any chance of getting out of this alive? Old prejudices die hard, and Fallen (besides the big L himself) are as unlikely to have mercy towards a demon as any normal, white-winged soldier. Less likely, sometimes, because they’ll kill for whatever reason suits them, not just holy purpose. If this one has decided he wants Roy dead… well, he probably should be working on his obituary right about now.
And of course, it’s while he’s thinking about that that the dumbest line he’s ever said in the entirety of his existence on this plane comes pouring out of his mouth. “So I guess that’s a no on the sex, then?”
Jason stares at him, his expression so incredulous it’s like he can’t believe he just heard those words come out of Roy’s mouth. Which is fair, because neither can Roy. But well, now that he’s said them (and since he’s finding it a little hard to focus still so what else is he going to say?), he figures he might as well roll with it.
“Well, is it?”
“Are you…?” The sneer’s gone, point for him, but Jason’s now looking at him like he’s seriously thinking about possible brain damage, so maybe not totally a victory. “Is that seriously your main concern right now?”
Roy tries not to think about how his legs are open and sort of in prime position for another knee, and how badly a second might hurt when the first pretty much downed him in an instant. Even if he’s not getting out of this, maybe he can just not piss off the Fallen any more and leave this world with his pelvis not shattered.
Except apparently panic, shock, and getting his head slammed into a wall are all conducive to giving him exactly no filter, because what comes out of his mouth is, “Well, it’s just that you’re really hot.”
His mouth clamps shut, Jason looks at him with disbelieving confusion, and Roy gives up on trying to salvage the runaway train that is his current mouth.
“I mean, have you seen you? With the leather jacket, and the eyelashes, and those fucking thighs, I mean, wow.” He swallows, tilting his head a little to be able to glance at them. “I’d absolutely do you just to do you; no meal needed. Also, like, the strength is a huge turn on, while I’m being honest. You’re sort of a walking wet dream for me, and that’s not even going into how you smell, and feel.” His gaze shifts a bit, to the visible bulge of Jason’s dick behind his jeans. Maybe his mouth waters a little. “If you’re going to kill me, can I just get like, one look at you naked first? Just a glance? Please? I can beg really nicely.”
“You’re insane,” Jason responds, still sounding largely bewildered.
“I’m a demon, I figure most of us are born that way.” Roy shrugs, or at least tries to. “Plus, incubus. S’kind of in my nature to consider sex above self-preservation. Can’t fight how you’re made, right?”
Something in Jason’s expression darkens, bewilderment fading into a clenched jaw and angry gaze. Roy doesn’t quite have the time to figure out what it is he’s said wrong before Jason is shoving away from him with one last burst of pressure on his throat. He chokes, staggering as his weight comes down on legs that are still threatening to buckle. He has to brace his arms against the alley wall to make sure he stays standing, which means that Jason’s backed up out of range when he looks up. His wings are flicking wide when Roy gets his gaze up, shaking out with a roll of his shoulders before they fold in and vanish with only a faint flare of black, twisting power left behind.
“You’re lucky that I don’t do my dad’s dirty work anymore,” Jason snaps at him, as the alley fades back to a more normal, human world. “Fuck off before I burn whatever excuse for a soul you have right out of that shell of yours.”
Jason turns and stalks out of the alley, still with that mouth-watering, rolling grace, and Roy debates what kind of self preservation instincts he really has for about two seconds before following.
“Okay, but if you’re not going to kill me, is sex back on the table? Because I was hundred percent serious; I’m down for just the sex, no feeding whatsoever.”
“Lust’s not my sin,” Jason says, back over his shoulder.
“Well, what’s another sin, right?” Roy moves to walk after him. “If you’re in for a penny, you might as well be in for a pound. Go the whole hog. Really...” He trails off for a moment, then takes a chance. “Uh, stick it to the man?”
Jason stops. For a brief second, the tilt of his head turns heavenward, before he turns back around to actually look at Roy again with his arms folded across his chest. “Do you ever give up?” he growls.
Roy grins at him. “Only when I get what I want.”
“And I guess you think you’re pretty good at that, don’t you?”
“You could’ve just blown me off at the bar if you wanted to, but instead you came out here with me.” He shrugs. “On that basis I’d say I’m at least not half bad. Plus—” Roy lets his smile turn a little wicked “—you certainly seemed to enjoy that kiss while it was going on.”
And oh, there’s that blush back again. So not all of Jason’s bashfulness was an act, that’s good to know.
“You were using your powers,” Jason argues, through a glare. “Of course I reacted; that’s the point of them.”
Roy dares to take a step closer, palms open and subtly enforcing his lack of threat. “All I did was give a little boost to what was already there. Forcing desire on an angel? Never even crossed my mind that I could get away with that.” Another half-step, as Jason eyes his approaching leg and then his throat with intent more violent in nature than Roy’s used to having aimed at him. “And if you’re not sure, why not try it again? Not even a hint of power this time. Swear. And if you don’t like it? I’ll turn around and walk away, no problem.”
He’ll be sad to let the chance go, but in this particular case he’ll take sad over getting his soul burned out of existence. So long as he’s sure that he did everything he could to try for the opportunity, while he has it. How many of his kind can say that they’ve tasted a Fallen?
After first growling in frustration, Jason then sighs. “You know what? Fine. If it’ll get you to fuck off and leave me alone.”
“Scout’s honour.” Roy says, for which Jason gives him a rightfully incredulous look before shaking his head and closing the distance between them once more. Roy lifts his head up as he approaches, the height difference between them negligible but still there, as is the tension. “You want to start things off, or shall I?”
He gets the answer to that question in the form of Jason’s hand seizing him by the back of his head. Strong fingers tangle in Roy’s hair as he’s yanked forward, with his head forced into the most pleasing angle for Jason’s mouth to find his own. There’s no competing with angel strength, but Roy’s never had a problem with being manhandled. He presses forward, lining himself up against every unforgivingly powerful angle of the Fallen as he reaches out to get his hands under that leather jacket. It’s a dirty trick, for sure, but Roy’s known demons with wings before, and he knows that the join of them, right at the shoulder blades…
Jason shudders when his fingers stroke over the jut of one of those bones, even with the shirt in the way. Roy can feel the thrum of desire against his senses like the bass of a club, vibrating right down into his bones. The moan he gives in response is entirely real; he’s not sure he’s ever had anything give him quite as much of a thrill as making an angel shudder and with that driving him, he does it again. Jason pushes against him in reaction, second hand finally coming in to join the action as that arm loops inescapably around Roy’s waist.
In no time at all, the kiss turns darker, dirtier. Roy parts his lips before licking his tongue across Jason’s mouth, a blatant invitation the Fallen doesn’t hesitate to take him up on. He tastes incredible, like power and twilight, holiness wrecked by corruption now that Roy’s fully able to appreciate the truth. His scent, burnt ozone, fills the air, and Hell’s bells, Roy knows he could do this forever if Jason would only allow him to.
The Devil knows, it doesn’t seem like they’re going to be stopping anytime soon.
“So,” he pants when they eventually break for a moment, “you sure you don’t want me, Jason?”
Roy moans as he’s pushed back across the alley. Step after step until his back is shoved up against the brick wall. Jason bites his lip until it bleeds, sucks on the wound, before ducking his head down to mouth at Roy’s neck. He hums as he continues pushing at Jason’s shoulder blades. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
Jason groans. “Tell me you got a place.”
“What, you don’t want to do it out here?” Roy laughs when Jason responds to that with another nip of his teeth. “Yeah, sure. I got a place. Not too far from here either.” Sliding one hand down, he squeezes Jason’s ass. “Though, if you want me to get us there the quick way, I might need a helping hand.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jason asks, a touch warily.
“It means you kind of beat half the shit out of me.” Roy winces demonstratively. “And as good as I am at hiding it, I am still in pain right now. Not the fun kind, unfortunately.”
Wariness turns to awkwardness as Jason mutters, “Oh, right. Yeah.” He breathes in deeply before looking at Roy. “Fine, but one time only.”
Roy squeezes his ass again. “Whatever you say, baby.”
“Don’t call me baby,” Jason grunts, but despite the admonition he doesn’t hesitate to lean down and bestow another kiss upon Roy’s lips. A kiss that, unlike the last one, comes with everything Roy had been hoping for from the moment he first laid eyes on Jason.
Power. Only a bare second’s flow of it before Jason snaps his barriers back into place again, but oh hell, it still makes Roy go weak at the knees. It’s like drinking liquid quicksilver, a burn as much as a balm; rich and heady as ambrosia expanding out from his stomach, through his veins and into every cell and pore of his body. He’s tipsy with it, like a mortal child with their first sip of alcohol, and actually giggles when Jason pulls away from him, head spinning in delight.
“Wow,” Roy says, then again just to be sure he said it right. “Wow. That was… oh shit.”
“Are you… okay?” Jason asks him, clearly taken aback by the reaction.
Oh, he’s much better than okay. “Just dandy,” Roy purrs, leaning up against him. Every ache in his body is gone, the bruises faded, and a restless need has settled into his bones. “Fuck, I want you. I want you so bad, angel.”
He slides the hand he has on Jason’s ass around his pelvis, moving it to squeeze over his cock instead. Jason’s face flushes hot red, his mouth falling open as he lets out a stuttered gasp. “You said… you said you had a place.”
That’s right, he did. He does. Roy grins wider, turning to lick his tongue across Jason’s bottom lip. “Follow me.”
‘Follow’ is of course a loose term for what he means. It’s more that he’s asking Jason not to fight his spell than to actually physically move as he pulls him forward, across distance and through matter. Travelling from the dingy alleyway to the dark comfort of his bedroom in a single step. Even demons need a safe space to go home to when they’re languishing on the mortal plane, and Roy’s is pretty damn fine, if he does say so himself. Not least because it happens to come with a very, very large bed.
All the more perfect for him to take the momentary disorientation that comes with teleportation to a strange place to push Jason down onto it. The sheets are expensive, luxurious silk — charmed, not bought, but those are details — of a dark red, and Roy climbs onto the bed and over the contrasting black sprawl of Jason spread over it. Jason looks wary and interested and dangerous all at once, coiled despite being on his back as Roy slides a palm up his stomach, dragging the shirt along with his fingers.
Roy smiles and scrapes his nails there, drawing a shudder. “So sensitive, angel. Can’t wait to see what you’re like when I actually get your clothes off. Get a little taste of that innocence.”
Jason breathes in, and Roy firmly enjoys the shift of muscle beneath his palm. “If you’re expecting some kind of virgin, you’re wrong. I’ve had sex.”
Oh, that’s cute.
“Not like this you haven’t, sweetheart. Why don’t you let me show you?”
And he does, thoroughly and exhaustively until he’s pressing the limits of his own stamina and just finding the edges of Jason’s. Hell, there is almost nothing that can keep up with Roy’s kind in his own battlefield, but he’s deliciously sore and bruised and exhausted by the time that Jason is trembling, laid open and keening as Roy takes him for what he’s having to admit is probably going to be the last time. He’s fucked and been fucked, tasted in every way he wanted to except to actually feed, but that boundary doesn’t bother him so much. Not now that he knows what an angel looks like on the edge of release, wings shivering and arched high, expression twisted in ecstasy.
They’re both slicked with sweat, and Roy has his head buried at Jason’s throat, breathing him in with every gasp. There are feathers brushing his back where black wings are wrapped up around him, and two hands buried in his damp hair, one of which is stroking at the base of the small horns normally hidden behind his human exterior. Except his control of that had slipped during the night, and Jason had discovered that it was a sensitive spot, maybe taking revenge for Roy’s blatant abuse of the erogenous zone that is his shoulder blades. That’s been the way this whole night has gone. Jason, giving just as good as he gets every, single, time.
Roy hasn’t been this well fucked or this tired out since the last time he had a tangle with one of his own kind, and that really wasn’t nearly as much fun.
Jason’s legs are tight enough against his hips that he can feel the ache of where they’ve already been bruised by powerful hands. The final rush is an overstimulating, rolling wave of a thing, and Roy takes the last bit of power he can spare and sends it skittering in underneath Jason’s skin to drag him with, pushing deep and hard and sinking his teeth into Jason’s shoulder as the release takes them both. His moan is muffled, but Jason’s cry is loud and intensely satisfying to every instinct he has.
So is the mess left between Jason’s thighs as Roy shifts back. Making a mess of an angel; that’s something he’s going to be really proud of for a long time.
He strokes his hands along the inside of Jason’s thighs, appreciating the shiver he gets even as Jason pries open his eyes and squints down at him. Deciding, maybe, if his intention is to start things all over again. Whatever Jason sees, it gets a grunt and then a push up on only slightly shaky arms. Roy pulls back to give him room to move, get up, or whatever his plan is, and then finds himself blinking as all Jason does is roll over, wings flaring out and then draping out across the bed. His head is cushioned on one arm, and there’s the bare expanse of his back there in front of Roy, shoulders, neck, and sides patchworked with the marks he’s sucked and bitten and clawed into his skin.
It’s oddly… vulnerable, which feels strange to say considering the other situations he’s had Jason in over the night. Maybe that oddness is why it takes Roy a few moments to notice the slit of a green, careful eye watching him over one shoulder. Not warily, Roy can’t see or sense any sign of tension in him, but this is not an open, vulnerable back. Not really. That almost settles something, deep in the pit of his stomach.
Roy holds that gaze as he moves forward, crawling forward just enough to lay himself over Jason’s back, nudging a leg between his thighs and resting his head on Jason’s shoulder. He’s partially on one wing, but he lifts his hand and settles it in the feathers of the other, stroking curiously along the lines of the feathers. The ones near the bottom are long, ridged things that are each at least a foot long, but the ones at the top are smaller, softer.
Jason sighs and the wing flexes, feathers spreading out some and allowing his fingers better access to slide between the gaps to a softer layer beneath the main feathers. Roy hums pleasure, not feeling any real desire — for once — to do anything but mold himself a little closer to Jason’s skin and shut his eyes. He’s… sated, somehow. Wow, if that’s what sex with an angel can be, he’s been missing out.
It lasts a few minutes, until Jason shifts beneath him and reaches one arm down to shove at him a little. “Get off my wing,” he grumbles, and Roy, blinking, obeys.
He levers himself up onto his knees, considering where else he can lay, but Jason takes the decision out of his hand. He rolls over once more, onto his back, and then a powerful hand tugs Roy down to lie more or less on top of his chest. His shoulder is still resting on one wing, but by the way Jason kisses him — slow and lazy, more simple enjoyment than any sexual desire — he doesn’t seem to mind. That wing folds up anyway, curving around his back and all but cocooning him in the wrap of those long black feathers.
Roy’s not used to feeling particularly safe, or comforted, but there’s something about that wing and the arms coming up to cradle him that evokes that sensation. As if there’s nothing in the world that could possibly make it past the barrier of the angel wrapped around him. Maybe an odd feeling to get, as a demon, considering that one touch of Jason’s hand and a blast of power could reduce him to a burned out husk. Maybe he shouldn’t enjoy being held by a creature quite that deadly, no matter how good it fucks.
“This ‘s nice,” he mumbles, closing his eyes and deciding to dismiss the whole thing. If Jason kills him, then he’ll kill him. So be it.
But Jason gives another soft little sigh instead, one hand finding his hair to stroke through. “Yeah.”
Roy tilts his head into the touch with a happy hum, sliding his upper arm across Jason’s rib cage until he can leave it resting across him, his fingers brushing the feathers of the wing still lying flat on that side. His eyes crack open then, to take a look at the softness he feels. He can barely see it, and he’s not about to raise his head to fix the angle, but near the top of the wing and close into the base there are small, soft feathers that overlap in a thick-looking layer. They’re so soft, and Roy finds himself running his fingers across them in idle strokes. Then with more purpose, if not more force, when Jason gives a small groan in response. The hand in his hair stills, but he thinks that’s a fair trade for how Jason slowly goes loose and utterly relaxed beneath him.
When he eventually looks up, Jason looks very near sleep. There’s a blissed out sort of ease to his expression, a look Roy’s more familiar seeing on fed-from humans, but none of the edge of desperation or exhaustion that usually accompanies it. It’s gotten rid of the furrow in his brow, the strain around the edges of his eyes, and Roy’s not sure he’s seen anything more beautiful in a long time. Not attractive necessarily, just… beautiful. Like he’s witnessing something sacred (and for once he doesn’t immediately want to dirty it).
“Feel good?” he asks, keeping his voice quiet to try not to disturb that look.
Jason’s eyes crack open at his voice, and there’s a moment where he’s just looked at before the angel speaks. Just as quiet, but with raw honesty around the edges of his words. “I’ve missed being touched. Like this.”
“The sex or the cuddling?” Roy immediately teases.
He’s almost expecting to get smacked, but Jason snorts and then smiles just a little, and Roy immediately has to reassess his definitions of beautiful once again. He can only stare, as Jason shakes his head and looks towards the ceiling.
“Both?” There’s a small shrug, fingers combing Roy’s hair back from his face as if in idle habit as the last traces of that tiny smile fade. “Humans aren’t exactly sturdy, and no Fallen wants to be around another. We’re just reflections of our mistakes; almost worse than being alone.”
Roy probably shouldn’t chase it, in fact he’s sure he shouldn’t, but he’s just curious and just relaxed enough to fold his arms across Jason’s chest and look down at him before asking, “What was your mistake?”
Jason goes a little bit tense, but the hands on him don’t turn violent. Don’t even tighten. The green eyes watch him for several long, studying moments, but apparently his expression passes whatever Jason was looking for. “Wrath,” he says, quiet but not really grudging. “Father makes all of us with a sin buried inside; something we can fall to, if we fail to manage it.”
Roy’s eyes narrow. “That seems like sort of a massive design flaw, I gotta say. I mean, if He really wanted all of you to be good, perfect little soldiers, seems like that’s sort of a self-sabotaging inclusion. Right?”
Jason’s gaze is piercing, but the fingers that slide through Roy’s hair, finding the shell of an ear and tracing it, are gentle. “Maybe.” There’s a pause, and then Jason shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter why. I can’t do anything about it; I’m stuck down here regardless.”
Roy doesn't particularly feel like arguing that; he actually sort of agrees with it. Bigger parties, bigger games, right? He's not going to try figuring out the plans that happen at the 'I created the universe' level. "Guess you'll have to make do with earthly pleasures then," he says instead, grinning down at Jason and wiggling his eyebrows a bit.
Jason snorts, gaze softening a little and mouth twisting in a wry smirk. "Don't think I'd call you 'earthly,' demon." It doesn't even sound like an insult, the way that Jason says it.
"Fair enough." Roy leans down, brushing a kiss over Jason's lips as he hums a pleased note. "So I'm in no rush to end this, but is this a one time thing? I'm just asking because it was a lot of fun. I'd be up for doing it again, if that interests you at all."
Roy can see the reaction to that offer, every bit of it. Surprise, distrust, then the little flare of pain that makes him swallow, glance away. Roy thinks it's a fairly easy question, personally, but he can recognize that a Fallen doesn't exactly have the same one-track mind that he does. This was fun, he didn't die, so he'd do it again; simple as that. Maybe it's not so simple if you're a corrupted angel with old habits and hatreds to overcome.
Roy tilts his head, letting his hair fall a little more to one side before he offers, "Why don't you come out with me? One of the neutral bars. We'll get a drink and relax and just have a little bit of fun. No strings attached, unless you want them to be. Although I might need to make a quick stop somewhere and grab a bite; dancing with you pretty much wiped me out."
Jason's expression, for a moment, is unreadable. Roy worries for that same moment that he might have made a mistake, reminding the Fallen that he preys on humans most days, but then Jason's fingers are tightening in his hair and pulling him down into a kiss. Their lips meet, and then Roy can feel the blaze of power along his senses, shields lowering and suddenly there's an open, waiting source of essence and power right there and it's all he can do to groan and bite into his own lip to stop himself from immediately drawing at it.
"If you're going to feed, do it from me," Jason murmurs, testing his restraint even further. "I've got more than enough power to stand it. Take it."
Roy's restraint does not extend to denying explicitly offered angel power.
He kisses Jason, reaching out and drawing at that blaze of strength. It burns and it's bliss and he can't help but moan, moving his hands to cradle Jason's head on automatic, holding him still as he feeds. There's sexual energy there still, just a bit lingering from their marathon, and Roy takes it with a moan. One bit of rich, perfectly flavored dessert on top of the spice of the rest of it. He drinks, and drinks, and Jason doesn't weaken. Doesn't fall limp and drain out like humans do when he takes as much as he really wants from them, pulling until their heart fails to beat and it's still not enough.
It's him that slows, his draw fading from a pull to a trickle, until finally he doesn't want more. He breaks the kiss and the connection, dipping his head to bury it against Jason's throat as he just breathes.
He can feel Jason's pulse beating under his skin, still as strong as ever, and he's breathing a little harder but nothing else seems different. Not until he lifts his head and can see the effect of the draw in Jason's expression. A cast of tiredness, like some sleep would do him good. It's still nothing like anyone he's ever fed from before, and those were just meals, not this— this three-course banquet with as many servings as he could possibly fit.
"I'm not hungry," he breathes, hardly believing it himself. "I— I didn't know I could not be hungry."
He doesn’t want either, oddly enough. He doesn’t feel that rush of desire and arousal like in the alley, he just feels… Sated. Whole. It feels incredible, and Roy knows with instant, incredible certainty that he wants to feel like this forever. It only takes his mind a couple more seconds to link that up with Jason, and for him to realize that he wants Jason for forever. Some of the best sex he’s ever had, and feeling like this, not having that want coiled in his gut for the first time in his entire life…
“Can I keep you?” he blurts out.
It takes Jason blinking up at him, confusion replacing tired warmth, for Roy to realize exactly what he’s said. “Keep me?”
Roy debates for a moment, but then he just breathes out and shrugs and says, “Look, you’re really hot, and that was some of the best sex I’ve ever had which trust me, is saying a lot considering what I am, and for the first time in my life I’m actually satisfied. If it’s touch you want, I will give you any kind of touch you need; platonic or sexual or whatever.” He’s still holding Jason’s skull between his hands, and he slides his thumbs over skin to feel the twitch, to just feel. Jason gives a faint shiver. “You don’t have to answer that right now,” Roy adds belatedly, realizing how intense the words came out. “I’m just putting it on the table.”
Jason swallows, and for a moment Roy can see this desperate, pained want in his eyes, before it flickers away. He doesn’t comment on it, even when all Jason gives is a noncommittal, rough, “I’ll keep it in mind.”
“Great.” Roy smiles, stealing one more kiss before he wiggles down, laying himself out at Jason’s side and resting his head on the chest there. “How about we stay here for awhile? Bar later?”
There’s a brief pause, hesitation, but then Jason tilts toward him and the second wing comes up, layering over him and covering him nearly from neck to ankle. “Yeah. Alright.”
The bar is a beacon of activity, as usual. The energy of the spells protecting it light up the place to anyone with the eyes to see it, and send humans turning away with the easy, pervasive thought of doesn’t look like my kind of place.
Jason follows him to it, back in his clothes and jacket and no longer looking even the slightest bit tired. Roy’s seriously impressed with the recovery rate; another thing he isn’t usually envious of.
They get stopped at the door, the brute of a demon there taking one look at him and saying, with a growl that fits his nearly seven feet of height, “You know the rules, incubus. No hunting here, and no prey.” Ah; hound. Big and strong and some of the best trackers out there given that they can distinguish just about any scent, including other demons.
Exactly the kind of hellspawn you’d want working as a bouncer.
Roy rolls his eyes, and goes to respond with an affirmative, but before he can open his mouth Jason steps forward and answers instead. “He won’t, he’s with me.”
The hound starts a little at Jason’s intervention. With obvious wariness now, he gives him a quick once over, before stepping aside. “Right,” comes the now half-hearted reminder, “just keep an eye on ‘im.”
Despite his annoyance at the attitude the other demon shows towards his kind, Roy also can’t help a flush of pleasure as they’re let through the door and into the club. He’s with me, Jason had said. With me. Whether he chooses to stay with him or not, just the memory of that will be enough to keep Roy giddy for weeks.
“C’mon,” he says, wrapping his arm around Jason’s, “I know the best seats.”
His favourite table sits almost right at the back of the club, far from the bar, and an excellent view of the dance floor, as well as the door. A fact Roy can tell Jason appreciates as well from the moment he sits down.
“I’ll get us drinks,” he says, stroking his fingers over the back of Jason’s hand. “What do you want?”
“Whatever’s strongest,” Jason answers, and Roy grins. Of course.
“Sure thing, Jaybird,” he purrs, leaning in to give him a brief kiss before threading his way across the dance floor to the bar. Quick enough that Jason doesn’t have time to protest the new nickname before he’s gone.
For once, it’s easy for Roy not to get distracted here. All the various scents and auras in the air, the glimpses of naked flesh, they don’t mean much of anything to him when he’s still so gloriously full. In fact, he makes it to the bar in record time, slipping up to lean in between the bar stools while he waits for the bartender to finish serving the beings there before him.
Not even two minutes pass before Roy feels a familiar presence slide in against his side.
“Well, hello there, Roy,” Jade purrs. “Long time no see.”
“Hey.” He turns his head, smiling at her while at the same time leaning carefully back. Just enough that skin contact stays firmly optional. “Same to you. Anything I can help you with?”
It’s a more polite form of saying what do you want? Jade is dangerous even for a succubus, and they didn’t part on the best terms the last time they met. Getting drained and walked out on tends to not leave him with the best impression of people.
“Oh, nothing much. I just thought I’d come say hi, see how you’re doing.” She examines her nails, painted a poisonous shade of green. “You know, you’re practically glowing this evening. It’s a surprise.”
“Can’t imagine why that would be,” Roy mutters. He shrugs as the bartender comes over to him, “Must just be my animal magnetism at work.”
Jade narrows her eyes as he places the orders for the drinks. “You have company.”
She says it as a statement, but he chooses to answer it like a question (albeit sarcastically). “No, I was just planning on getting reaaally drunk tonight.”
“We don’t get drunk.”
“I was going to pretend.”
Jade mock-sighs as she moves in closer to him, forcing Roy to take a step back. The bartender is paying their little interplay no mind, but Roy wishes he’d hurry up. “Don’t play coy now, Roy,” Jade hisses at him. “I want to know what you’ve been eating. Even second hand, it smells good.”
“So what? You can steal from me again?” Baring his teeth, he hisses back at her. “Fuck off, Jade, I’m done playing with you.”
Her own lips twist into a snarl as she fists her hand in his shirt, dragging them closer together. “You’re only done when I say you’re done. Now tell me where you got that level of—”
Roy feels the wave of threat in the air before anything actually happens. Then a strong hand clamps down around Jade’s wrist, twists it, and all in the same motion throws her arm away with enough force to make her stumble back against the nearest barstool.
“Get your hands off him,” comes a low snarl, and it’s Jason stepping half in front of him, between them. Jason, smelling like power and with shoulders lifted in the same threat he’s broadcasting everywhere else.
Now the bartender is paying attention.
Jade is staring up at Jason with wide eyes, but they quickly turn as poisonous as her nails. “An angel? Like you’ve got the power to catch one of them. What did you do, sell someone out to their hunters?”
“Walk away,” Jason demands, and Roy probably shouldn’t find that voice as hot as he does, but it’s not aimed at him, so…
Jade laughs, and Roy wonders whether her instincts are as screwed as his because she’s not backing away. “Relax, sweetheart,” she purrs, with a flicker of a smirk. “No violence in here, remember? If it’s a little walk on the wild side you want though, I can give you a much better ride than Roy can. He’s second-tier, baby; you want someone with a little more real power to them. Somebody who can really get under your skin. How about you come with me, angel, and we can—”
Her hand touches Jason’s arm, slides power that Roy can sense the intent of skating over his skin, and there’s exactly enough time for him to breathe a quick, “Fuck,” before Jason’s reacting.
She hasn’t even recognized the danger before Jason’s hand is closing around her throat and slamming her back against the bar. Roy thinks the wood must be pretty heavily spelled, because he can’t think of any other reason it doesn’t shatter into kindling. The bartender shouts an alarm, but Jason is glaring down at Jade where he has her pinned and doesn’t seem to care about the fact that he’s got most of the bar’s attention firmly trained on him.
“If you really think I’m an angel,” he says, low and deep and enough to send a shiver down Roy’s spine, “you’ve pretty royally fucked up.”
The flare of wings is as dramatic as it was in the alley, and Roy has the sharp pleasure of watching Jade’s eyes go wide with fear. Everyone's eyes, actually. Anyone that wasn’t looking at them before is definitely looking now, with those enormous black wings spread wide and high, as if one beat of them could wipe Jade off the face of the Earth. Roy gets a sharp thrill off that idea, and a possessive, proud twist in his chest that he is with the rarest thing in this bar, and probably the strongest. There are a couple other angels in one of the furthest corners, watching with narrowed eyes, but otherwise the entire bar just feels, suddenly, like strung-tight fear and wariness. Not one person dares move.
Roy spends every second drinking the sight in.
It takes a small beat of Jason’s wings to somewhat break the spell, the rush of air stirring the hair of everyone nearby. Very deliberately, he pulls Jade up from the bar so she’s standing once again, and lets go of her throat. She’s still trapped between him and the bar though, unless she wants to try ducking under a wing. Nowhere to go.
At this angle Roy can see how Jason’s expression has closed off into something cold and dangerous, like naked steel and high mountains. His mouth goes a little bit dry.
“Go after Roy again,” Jason says, voice a perfect match for his expression, “and I’ll shred whatever passes for your soul into ribbons. Is that clear?”
She doesn’t speak, but after a faint tremble Jade jerks out a nod, and that seems to be enough. Jason keeps her there a few more moments, before his wings flick outwards and then fold in and settle against his back. He takes half a step back, angling to give her exactly one way to slip out from in front of him.
Jade takes the opening, expression both furious and afraid before she attempts to cover the emotions with aloof detachment. Roy smirks when she glances at him, barely resisting sliding some taunt around the bulk of Jason, standing in the way. It would be fun, sure, but inciting murder — the only possible ending if Jade does try to come after him, with Jason defending him — would probably get them banned from the bar, and he happens to like it here. So instead he blows a kiss, winks at her glare, and just watches as she beats a hasty retreat out of the bar.
Jason stares at the door for several seconds after it swings shut, then finally turns back to him. The bar is starting to move again, things easing back into normality now that the threat of any more violence has passed, and Roy leans back against the bar and grins as Jason closes the small distance between them. A roll of powerful shoulders has the wings melting away into his back, and when Jason steps close enough for Roy to reach out and wind his fingers into that leather jacket, he does.
He keeps his voice quiet, but not hushed, when he says, “My knight. That was intensely, gorgeously hot, by the way.”
Jason shrugs, letting himself be reeled in. “Well, I don’t share that well.”
“Absolutely no threesomes then?” He probably deserves the roll of eyes, but Jason kisses him anyway. Slow but deep, with a hand sliding into his hair and weight pressing him back against the edge of the bar. Well, now he’s wanting again. Just a little. Alright, more than a little, but how is he supposed to help that with an angel pressing between his thighs?
There’s a sharp clink of glass, and Jason breaks the kiss, hand suddenly tight in his hair and body a steel coil.
“No violence in the bar, gentlemen,” the bartender says, with more than a bit of sharp edge.
Jason eases, which lets Roy turn his head to see the two drinks deposited at the bar beside them, and the disapproving tightness of the bartender’s expression. Demon, but Roy can’t tell what kind at a glance.
“If they keep their hands to themselves, I’ll do the same,” Jason agrees. If it’s a concession at all, it’s not much of one, and man, the rush that Roy feels when the bartender just nods and walks away instead of pressing is more intoxicating than anything he can possibly drink tonight.
“Didn’t know I was walking in on the arm of the scariest thing in town,” he purrs, winding one arm around Jason’s shoulders to hold him close. “I think I like it.”
It’s less obvious now than it was before, but Roy can still see the tips of Jason’s ears burn pink in a pleased flush. “Yeah?”
The hand in his hair gentles a little. A whole parade of emotions make their way through Jason’s eyes in the next few seconds, and Roy waits patiently for him to figure them out, simply enjoying the physical contact in the meantime. “Then I guess I can stick around, at least for a little while.”
“However long you want is fine by me,” he replies. Whether it be five minutes or eternity, Roy will take as much of Jason as he can get. He emphasises this sentiment by kissing him again, then nuzzling his face in against the Fallen’s neck where he can inhale more of that intoxicating scent.
Jason shudders. Roy can feel him swallow thickly, then nod. “Okay.”
He picks up their drinks and they head back to their table. Not one person gets in their way.