The Devil's Beloved, a Steamy MM Fantasy Romance (part eight)
Hold me with your Tender Kisses
Blarg has finally introduced us to his mysterious girlfriend. I must admit, I've yet to study human/orc courtship rituals, and thus have looked forward to this rendezvous with much anticipation.
He was busy sorting out his various lizard-themed tchotchkes when there was a knock at the door. He nearly stumbled over himself rushing to open it. Blarg swung wide the door and was greeted with an immediate squeal of delight.
Agatha gave the newcomer a weary look, until a small hand wearing several jeweled rings offered her a leaf of lettuce. Satisfied with her tribute, the dragon queen began to devour her snack, granting access to the new arrival.
After a bit of light banter, Blarg stepped aside, allowing his lady friend to enter. She practically danced inside, giving me a hug before I even had a chance to introduce myself. She wore green from head to foot, and introduced herself as Nicole Varanus.
Blarg smiled happily as they started engaging in small talk. They proceeded to make purple tea and play a board game. I’d expected something unusual to occur during their interactions, but as the hours passed, I concluded their mixed species dynamic was the same as that of any other new relationship.
I decided to leave the lovebirds alone and go for a walk in the city.
***
Satan and Tzyeriel wandered the beach, each caught in their own train of thought.
Satan realized he could no longer rule Hell. His heart was now open, and there was no place in the abyss for tenderness. No matter how this all ended, he'd already lost his throne.
Tzyeriel gazed at him, and said,
"I suspect I might be cast out of Heaven for what I've done." He smiled sadly and continued, "I admit there were... others before you. I fear the Archangels will start looking into my past, and... Oh, Satan..." Tzyeriel stopped, sighing. Satan held him close and whispered,
"No matter what happens, I will never stop loving you." The Seraph stared into his eyes, smiled, and said,
"I love you too, dear prince."
They both walked off into the night hand in hand, knowing in their hearts that they would always belong to one another.
***
In the moments before Jophiel arrived in the king’s chamber, Abaddon had been seated upon Satan's throne, making a mental list of all the things he'd do once he took control of Hell.
The locust lord was amused to learn Jophiel had been sent to speak with him: Jophiel, the delicate, prim-and-proper angel of beauty, HE of all angels now stood within Hell’s palace.
Abaddon had worn a mask of concern in the Archangel's presence, but deep within, he was laughing.
The swarm angel had the imp who'd started the rumors brought to him. It withered at the sight of Jophiel, and would have doubtless flown away in fear had it not been barred by the large multi-tentacled demon standing in front of the exit.
The Archangel coldly asked the imp a series of probing questions, trying to catch it in a lie. It stood fast to its story, insisting it wasn’t clever enough to come up with such a story on its own.
Eventually, Jophiel signaled to Abaddon to let the demon go. The dark angel motioned for the guard to release it. The tentacle demon stood aside. The tiny spirit responded by flying off as quickly as its wings could carry it.
Jophiel asked to be taken to the alleged scene of the crime. They traveled down the long hallway until they arrived at the engraved doorway of Satan’s study.
Jophiel wrinkled his nose at it’s décor. The walls were covered with charcoal illustrations of the captives of Tartarus, their faces twisted in expressions of despair and madness.
He looked through the study to see if he could find evidence that lent credence to the imp’s tale. Abaddon had already conducted his own search. Upon finding a particular incriminating item, he’d been sure to position it where it would be easily seen.
Jophiel went through the bookshelves, rolling his eyes upon finding a copy of Dante’s Divine Comedy. He proceeded to check through all the desk drawers before glancing at the desk’s mahogany surface. A glint of metal caught his eye. He picked it up, and gasped. It was one of the latches from a metal codpiece that bore the engraving of Tzyeriel's seal.
Jophiel murmured,
"Tzyeriel, how could you...?" Abaddon raised an eyebrow and asked,
"What is it?" The Archangel frowned, holding up the latch for him to see. Abaddon feigned surprise, and said,
"Oh, this simply cannot be!" Jophiel replied,
“I need to look deeper into this situation. Heaven will handle matters from here.”
He turned to leave, but stopped momentarily to say,
“You have my thanks, swarm lord." Abaddon placed a hand over his heart as he said,
"It’s such a shame that it’s come to this. I’m not sure what’s to become of this kingdom if Satan is removed."
Jophiel nodded and left the room. Abaddon watched him silently, waiting until the angel went around the bend before allowing a wicked smile to spread across his dark features. He sauntered off for a ways until he reached Satan’s dimly lit bed chambers.
He entered, locking the door behind him so as not to be disturbed. Abaddon approached the large round bed, turned around, and leapt back, falling against the plush, onyx-black blankets.
He’d lay upon this bed many times over the centuries, but had never once slept in it.
No, the only time he was in this bed was when Satan was riding on top of him. Oh, how Satan loved the way Abaddon would pull him down full force upon him again and again, until the devilish angel would start to squirm in his own peculiar lustful rhythm.
The locust lord never let him finish, of course, at least not in such a dominant position. No, he’d always yanked him off right before climax, lifting him from the bed and throwing him onto his belly before re-entering him.
Abaddon rolled over and reached under the bed for their special little toy box. He opened it, pulling out an assortment of phalluses, whips, gags, and restraints.
He marveled at the collection, remembering the many inventive ways he’d used these items on the one he’d once called his king. Abaddon wondered what the high-ranking demons of Hell would think, were he to share the stories attached to each of the box’s contents.
He put everything back and returned the box under the bed. Abaddon lay, placed his hands behind his head, and smiled.
***
Jophiel had his work cut out for him. None of the minor angels would readily volunteer their knowledge of Tzyeriel’s supposed trysts. It was one thing to gossip amongst each other about who might be doing what with whom, but they knew better than to openly talk to an Archangel.
Jophiel thought,
Surely there must be a way to find out what the Seraph has been up to.
He realized he would need some help.
Amitiel was the angel of truth. His deep grey eyes were like a lie detector; any creature, whether angel, human, or demon, would immediately realize upon looking into those eyes that it was entirely pointless to speak anything but the truth.
Amitiel readily agreed to help Jophiel, accompanying as he traveled through the halls of Heaven.
***
When I returned to the apartment, the lights were dimmed, with the only illumination coming from the red glow of Agatha's heat lamp. Nicole and Blarg sat cross-legged in the center of the room, holding hands as they gazed at each other contentedly.
My instinct was to leave them be.
I commanded Stinksnort to shut off that electronic block puzzle game he’s so fond of and follow me to the vending machine downstairs.
We perused the various offerings on display, settling upon a berry-flavored fruit bar. I slipped my dollar bill into the cash slot, but the gremlins hiding behind the gears gave us a spot of trouble, repeatedly rejecting my bill. Infuriated by their indolence, I puffed out my chest and gave the machine a long, hard stare.
In a clear show of dismay, the cretins accepted my money, but tried to undermine my efforts by only moving the fruit bar halfway, leaving it dangling in a state of wiry limbo.
Refusing to be thwarted, I had Stinksnort assist me in shaking the sides of the snack fortress back and forth. We battled the gremlin’s stronghold, but our offensive tactics proved too effective.
The vending machine fell over, sending out a spray of shattered glass and random candy bars upon impact. In celebration of our victory in battle, we proceeded to gather up the spoils of war.
After finding an undisturbed spot in the stairwell, we gobbled down our candy with great zeal. Stinksnort was so intent upon devouring his prize he didn't even bother removing the wrappers.
As I consumed my fill, the sugariness started stirring some long forgotten thing I couldn’t place. I tried to shake off the eeriness of it, yet a strange ache settled in my chest.