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skyjourney2020-05-03 01:54 am
notsentalone) wrote in skyjourney2020-05-03 01:54 am
(no subject)
[ It had all started with an incident on Sephira Island. The singularity has marched in with more confidence than caution; Sandalphon, Vyrn, Lyria and several other crewmates by her side, explaining her brazenness by saying they were experienced enough with the different routes across it and the manner of creatures to be found in it that they would likely be done with their expedition soon, confident that they'd blaze through any troubles with sheer brute force as they had always done. Having seen her prowess enough to trust in it and having been with her on such expeditions before, most of the other crewmaters, too, saw no reason to argue; even Sandalphon was starting to think the amount supplies they brought along with them on these investigations slowed them down more often than help.
What they had all clearly forgotten was the original reason for the caution they approached it with; that Sephira Island was secluded, and so they were vulnerable, and even the girl in blue's own exceptional power was restricted. And it was the opportunity that a certain creature was waiting for to strike— in the midst of a battle that required more firepower, the Singularity called for the power of the fallen angel of cunning himself, a portion of it absorbed by Lyria that had enough of its own will for the rotten character of the original to be preserved with it. The cost of this power, the charm spell Belial would place upon them alongside the other increases in their abilities, seemingly just for his own amusement, was usually far more manageable, but had proven almost fatal under such conditions. The monster they were fighting took advantage of their inability to properly fight back, and rendered the expedition crew alive but unconscious, and badly wounded.
Everyone except Sandalphon, who fought to his last ounce of strength, refusing and unrelenting to surrender to his own wounds. He had just barely managed to fight through the spell enough to land a finishing blow and finish the job in their stead, before succumbing to the charm and his own exhaustion, just barely hanging to consciousness by a thread, and into the mindless sensation of blankness of the charm still on him.
That had been the second mistake; he had realized that the second he saw Belial's form materialize in front of him.
Nobody had seen what happened next. Nobody knew. No one but the Singularity herself, and even then, just barely— he'd caught her eye— half-open, hazy, only briefly before she had dropped back to unconsciousness— in the middle of it, barely able to perceive everything around him beyond pure sensation, and barely thought anything of it, in the heat of the moment. When it was over Sandalphon felt lightheaded, dizzy, as if his body has detached from the earth, struggling to comprehend what has happened. It hadn't even dawned on him what Belial has done to him until much later, and with it, his own feelings about it.
The Singularity had humbly conceded that she may have been rather reckless; but none of their wounds were fatal, so they had survived, made use of the supplies they had brought and made camp to rest up for the night and heal up. She had later come to talk to Sandalphon in private, apologizing, practically with tears in her eyes, guilt radiating off her. Alway far too soft-hearted and naive for her position. He had assured her he bared her no ill will or resentment over the incident, did not hold her responsible, and, looking at her, didn't feel the need to say 'I told you so' over the many, many times before he protested over making use of Belial's power. She clearly didn't need him to.
And so they simply agreed not to talk of it ever again. The Singularity has asked him about how he felt, fretted over him, worried over his mental state, and it had been a struggle to shut her down, but seemed to relent when he told her he'd rather she not bring it up, and she seemed to find that agreement the most conscientious thing to do. Sandalphon had been affected, certainly. He hadn't stopped thinking about it, what he could remember. He just didn't need her or anyone else to know the real reason why. The captain seemed to think he was traumatized. He didn't feel the need to explain that the memory of both being on the receiving end of the charm and the... physical part of experience, the touch, had fascinated him and that some part of him may have long to feel it again.
Time passed since then; months, over a year, and with how long they haven't spoken of it, the incident was forgotten until the man himself had joined their crew. Over that time, his power has grown. And with it, his... fascination, and his frustration. The many, many attempts to stave of the something that the experience lit up in him. He tried not to consider the idea that this is the reason he protested less than he should have when the choice to let Belial join them was made, and when the Singularity came to talk to him about the subject with an air of guilt to her, and he agreed to her reasoning without as much of a struggle as she too seemed to expect. Having Belial around as a constant reminder, labeling all his attempts to forget the incident not only fruitless but doing the opposite, amped up his frustration to degrees that were starting to become unbearable.
So when the thought I could just ask him pipes up, he spends several minutes mulling it over and telling himself it would be utterly ridiculous, that it would be the most foolish thing he could ever think of doing. Quite telling, maybe, that he doesn't reject it out of hand and gives it more than a passing thought. Instead the thought stays around, egging him on at night in his frustrations, until one day, something in him simply can't take it anymore.
And so, wondering at how he's actually not just considering but going through with so unbelievable an act, he one day approaches Belial directly. He finds him on the ship, walking towards him with a scowl, keeping his tone brusque, hoping his demeanor will do enough to conceal his intent to make it come off as entirely impersonal business. ]
Belial. [ Sandalphon grabs him tightly by the wrist and pulls at him to follow, with the intend of leading him somewhere into the more secluded corners of the ship, where they won't be overheard or seen. ] We need to talk.
What they had all clearly forgotten was the original reason for the caution they approached it with; that Sephira Island was secluded, and so they were vulnerable, and even the girl in blue's own exceptional power was restricted. And it was the opportunity that a certain creature was waiting for to strike— in the midst of a battle that required more firepower, the Singularity called for the power of the fallen angel of cunning himself, a portion of it absorbed by Lyria that had enough of its own will for the rotten character of the original to be preserved with it. The cost of this power, the charm spell Belial would place upon them alongside the other increases in their abilities, seemingly just for his own amusement, was usually far more manageable, but had proven almost fatal under such conditions. The monster they were fighting took advantage of their inability to properly fight back, and rendered the expedition crew alive but unconscious, and badly wounded.
Everyone except Sandalphon, who fought to his last ounce of strength, refusing and unrelenting to surrender to his own wounds. He had just barely managed to fight through the spell enough to land a finishing blow and finish the job in their stead, before succumbing to the charm and his own exhaustion, just barely hanging to consciousness by a thread, and into the mindless sensation of blankness of the charm still on him.
That had been the second mistake; he had realized that the second he saw Belial's form materialize in front of him.
Nobody had seen what happened next. Nobody knew. No one but the Singularity herself, and even then, just barely— he'd caught her eye— half-open, hazy, only briefly before she had dropped back to unconsciousness— in the middle of it, barely able to perceive everything around him beyond pure sensation, and barely thought anything of it, in the heat of the moment. When it was over Sandalphon felt lightheaded, dizzy, as if his body has detached from the earth, struggling to comprehend what has happened. It hadn't even dawned on him what Belial has done to him until much later, and with it, his own feelings about it.
The Singularity had humbly conceded that she may have been rather reckless; but none of their wounds were fatal, so they had survived, made use of the supplies they had brought and made camp to rest up for the night and heal up. She had later come to talk to Sandalphon in private, apologizing, practically with tears in her eyes, guilt radiating off her. Alway far too soft-hearted and naive for her position. He had assured her he bared her no ill will or resentment over the incident, did not hold her responsible, and, looking at her, didn't feel the need to say 'I told you so' over the many, many times before he protested over making use of Belial's power. She clearly didn't need him to.
And so they simply agreed not to talk of it ever again. The Singularity has asked him about how he felt, fretted over him, worried over his mental state, and it had been a struggle to shut her down, but seemed to relent when he told her he'd rather she not bring it up, and she seemed to find that agreement the most conscientious thing to do. Sandalphon had been affected, certainly. He hadn't stopped thinking about it, what he could remember. He just didn't need her or anyone else to know the real reason why. The captain seemed to think he was traumatized. He didn't feel the need to explain that the memory of both being on the receiving end of the charm and the... physical part of experience, the touch, had fascinated him and that some part of him may have long to feel it again.
Time passed since then; months, over a year, and with how long they haven't spoken of it, the incident was forgotten until the man himself had joined their crew. Over that time, his power has grown. And with it, his... fascination, and his frustration. The many, many attempts to stave of the something that the experience lit up in him. He tried not to consider the idea that this is the reason he protested less than he should have when the choice to let Belial join them was made, and when the Singularity came to talk to him about the subject with an air of guilt to her, and he agreed to her reasoning without as much of a struggle as she too seemed to expect. Having Belial around as a constant reminder, labeling all his attempts to forget the incident not only fruitless but doing the opposite, amped up his frustration to degrees that were starting to become unbearable.
So when the thought I could just ask him pipes up, he spends several minutes mulling it over and telling himself it would be utterly ridiculous, that it would be the most foolish thing he could ever think of doing. Quite telling, maybe, that he doesn't reject it out of hand and gives it more than a passing thought. Instead the thought stays around, egging him on at night in his frustrations, until one day, something in him simply can't take it anymore.
And so, wondering at how he's actually not just considering but going through with so unbelievable an act, he one day approaches Belial directly. He finds him on the ship, walking towards him with a scowl, keeping his tone brusque, hoping his demeanor will do enough to conceal his intent to make it come off as entirely impersonal business. ]
Belial. [ Sandalphon grabs him tightly by the wrist and pulls at him to follow, with the intend of leading him somewhere into the more secluded corners of the ship, where they won't be overheard or seen. ] We need to talk.
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Mm, how to put it...? Sometimes mortals call their partners that because they see 'em as some kind of quasi-paternal authority figure. [ there's a brief pause as he contemplates going more in-depth and explain the daddy dom / little girl dynamic but he quickly decides that it's only going to leave poor sandalphon's fogged up brain even more confused. ]
Don't think about it too hard, Sandy.
[ he pushes the drawer shut and flicks the lid open as he steps back to the bed, taking a few seconds to drink in and savor how sandalphon looks with his legs spread wide like a whore waiting to be entered. the curve of his ass is one of the most gorgeous shapes belial has ever seen in his life and his cute asshole looks so inviting, making his pulse hasten with need and excitement. he squeezes a generous amount of translucent liquid onto his hand, carefully spreading it over his fingers and rubbing them together to warm it up a little.
he then runs his other hand over the back of sandalphon's thigh as he presses two fingers to his entrance, rubbing and teasing his thumb over the perineum as he smears the lubricant around. after several long moments, he finally eases a finger inside. ]
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His confused, frustrated train of thought shows itself in his expression, but is interrupted by the surprise of Belial's finger entering him— with an ease that can be owed not just to the lubrication but to how his own body is already familiar with the sensation. He's only had Belial do it once before, though, and it's nothing like doing it himself— no, this isn't even anything like when the summon prepared him half-measuredly, crudely and impatiently rushing to the point, spitting into its palm and fingers. More to the point— it's a much more teasing, methodical touch, as if testing the waters, and this single finger is not enough. ]
M-more. [ How much more will he need to beg today before he gets what he needs, to finally have his hunger sated? His only concern is that as he's not sure how long he'll even hold on to his ability to form words at all. ] ... Please.
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[ still, he pulls out slightly, placing a second finger alongside the first and thrusting back in in one rough movement. he wasn't there to see it, but it doesn't take a genius to figure out that the summon couldn't possibly have used anything other than spit to prep sandalphon with and it was probably in a hurry to claim sandy's virginity before any of the unconscious teammates could wake up and put a stop to it. ]
But I'm the opposite of virtuous, so you're in good company. [ he wasn't going to be too rough with his new toy, but now that sandalphon has confessed it isn't his first time after all he's all the more confident in his earlier assessment of sandalphon being an M. if he's trying to reenact his first time, then he'll want the prep to be similar as well. he probably likes the stretch and the ache—so belial begins to work the fingers out with long ragged strokes, scissoring him open while managing to avoid the prostate. ]
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If he doesn't beg verbally, this time, for Belial to keep going, to touch him where he's avoiding, to add another finger, to fill him up further, it's only because he can't find the words for it or muster the will to utter anything nearly so articulate. ] L-like that... keep going.... [ He squirms and shifts in place, the movements of his body, the way he feels it tightens around Belial's fingers as if to keep them from ever pulling out, the expression on his face, his trembling lip and shaky limbs seemingly trying to make up for it on their own, to express what his words cannot. ]
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Seeing you like this almost makes me wanna keep you in this state forever. [ he murmurs on a husky note, the nails on his other hand digging into sandalphon's thigh as he moves his fingers in a twisting motion, coating his insides with lubricant and prying him open further. ]
How would you feel about becoming my pet, Sandy? I'd pleasure you like this every day.
[ it's not a serious offer, but he's curious to hear sandalphon's response all the same; more ammo to tease him endlessly with later on. having sandalphon permanently charmed and in a pliant state would be fun and gratifying for a little while, but he knows that he'd quickly grow tired of it. he quite likes the sandalphon that glares daggers at him for the crime of existing in his general vicinity, the secret sadist that nearly toppled the world for petty reasons—it'd be such a waste to break him for good and take away those fun qualities.
his cock aches for attention, every sense throbbing with anticipation as he begins to work in a third finger, stretching him even further. he feels him clench around him as he picks up the pace, fingerfucking him until he feels loose enough for the main event; he abruptly pulls out, smiling wolfishly as he watches sandalphon's hole suddenly flutter around nothing. ]
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Oh... I'd love that. [ These words don't feel strong enough, not true enough for how badly he wants it, how the second Belial suggested it he realized quickly he wants nothing more, but that, too, he struggles to articulate when everything else Belial is doing is so overwhelming and distracting. So, so hard to think through the sweet combination of pleasure and pain, the wonderfully sharp sting of nails on his bare thighs and the rough and cruel way those fingers wring out pleasure out of his body with precise, expert touches and strokes. Every touch and movement wrings out noise out of him, too, and he squeezes his eyes shut, unable to contain himself under such stimulation.
Then Belial pulls out all at once, so suddenly, so abruptly, and his body feels horribly empty and aches at the sudden denial of the relief it so needs. His eyes fly open, wide with panic and confusion, and he nearly wants to cry out, maybe scream, but instead what comes out out a small, pitiful noise much like a whine. He looks up at Belial with that wide-eyed expression, his shock and confusion settling into pleading dismay. ]
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I'd put a collar on you so everyone knows who you belong to. [ now that's a better thought than lucifer. maybe he'll look into buying a nice black leather collar with a ring to attach a leash to; it would look perfect on sandalphon. ]
You'd be free of all responsibilities and troubles and I'd treat you like a pampered little kitten—hey, don't look at me like that.
[ sandalphon's dismayed face is so cute, though. belial reaches down between his legs, spreading the leftover lubricant over his hardened length with a few hasty movements before pulling sandalphon's legs around his waist, hooking them behind him. grabbing sandalphon's hips in a bruising grip, he nudges the head of his cock against his entrance, teasing him for a couple of moments before—finally—thrusting into him, burying himself to the hilt in one go. ]
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Before Sandalphon can articulate an answer or anything to say at all, how to express both his joy at the mental image and his plea to make it a reality, he notices Belial preparing himself, and finally Belial's putting his hands on him— powerful ands gripping him and digging into his delicate skin with the kind of roughness that hurts in the best way, with that sweet, loving cruelty interposed with indulgence that has characterized the way he has touched him, that he hopes will leave bruises as a mark. And then, the head of his cock nudging against his open entrance, just shy of going in, a point of the slightest contact, just the tease of that enough that this sensation in those few moments alone could almost drive him insane, and then, finally, mercifully, he's going inside.
Sandaphon throws his head back with a gasp, back moving up to arch, as Belial slides smoothly in all the way up into him, in one smooth, fluid motion and no resistance at all, lubrication and preparation smoothing away any potential difficult that his his soft pliant body hasn't already, willing and welcoming him in as if he belongs there. His first thought is oh, Belial's cock feels just like the summon's did— but it's better, much better, in ways he can't understand, and it makes his already. He feels as if a longing hunger that must have been there far, far before that incident has finally been sated, feels a relief so deep from the bottom of his heart that it's as if he released a breath he hasn't know he was holding for years— and a desperate desire not to ever feel that absence again, the delirious pleasure of having Belial inside him, leads Sandalphon to wrapping his legs a round Belial's waist, as tight as he can, with all the power he can muster, to keep him in there, to make sure he doesn't pull out or let go. ]
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You're so—ngh—fuckin' tight, Sandy.
[ it feels so good, almost too good to be real; he'd been fantasizing about having sandalphon squirming under him for a long time, since before the rebellion, but he didn't truly think it would be actually possible to bed him after lucifer's death; there's hate sex, and there's we're mortal enemies and i want to eviscerate you sex and the latter stays firmly in the realm of fantasy. but here they are, their bodies moving with heated friction, lust spiking through him every time sandalphon's back arches, every time a delicious gasp escapes his throat. it's almost as if the two of them were made just for this.
as he continues to thrust into him, he leans down to press his mouth to hot skin, slowly trailing kisses from his collarbone to his left nipple, taking it between his teeth and applying a light pressure. ]
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All he knows is that Belial's force of movement overwhelms him, his touch sweeping him over like a massive ocean wave, and he lets himself be carried by it, his body giving in to both the force and the pleasure; that when he meets Belial's eye again with his own hazy, unfocused gaze, the expression on his face, the deep dark pools his eyes have turned to, is almost too overwhelming to look at; that his own voice breaks out of his control, that he gasps and moans in rhythm to every thrust and wet, lewd touch between their bodies without even doing so knowingly, hearing the noises come bursting from his own throat as if listening to it from afar.
Belial's teeth on him break out another loud, sharp noise at the spark of pleasure that seems to short-circuit his already hazy mind; he cries out something that might be Belial's name, slurred and messy as if he had forgotten how to speak at all. ]
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he rolls the taut nub between his teeth, then lets go to flick his tongue over it, soothing the sting away into a pulsing bliss. then he takes it between his teeth once more, bringing him back to the edge between pain and pleasure as he sucks and nips at the tender flesh. he leaves it throbbing and covered with his saliva as he switches to the other one, feeling the faint hum of sandalphon's core pulsing in time with his heartbeat against his mouth—a light but indescribable sensation, the kind that he can only experience with beings like himself, never with mortals. ]
Nhh— [ he gives it the same treatment before letting go, straightening his back. the fog of pleasure is getting thicker and thicker, making it harder to think. ] —C'mon, I wanna hear you call me Daddy at least once.
[ his hand slips from sandalphon's hip and he unhooks one leg from around his waist, lifting it over his shoulder instead. from there it's easy to twist sandalphon's body onto its side and hammer into him, sidewinder style. ]
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Then, just as he thinks it can't get any better, Belial switches into a position that makes his thrusts hit harder, makes his legs spread wider, makes the access to his prostate all the easier, and Sandalphon keens and cries out, eyes crossing as Belial slams, again and again and again, right into a spot inside him that makes his senses short-circuit, vision blurring with dark spots and sparks of pleasure bursting like fireworks. He doesn't even have the mental faculties to focus on anything beyond that, to question Belial's command as he would earlier, to hesitate, to consciously obey: his mind a scrambled mess, his lips and tongue move on their own, truly at their wits end, struggling to form any words at all: ]
D—... ah... [ His voice comes out soft, slurred with moans: ] ...D-daddy....
[ Another hit, another moan: Sandalphon's eyes roll over, his open mouth slack and drool dropping from his lips. He has no mind to think about just how debauched he looks, not in this heavenly pleasure that Belial keeps giving him as if it's eternal. ]
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You're such a g-good little cockslut, Sandy—
[ his lips part on a rapturous hiss when his movements cause an obscene squelching noise from the lubricant dripping around his cock, a thin sliver of saliva trickling down his chin. sandalphon's ass his so fucking tight; he can feel him squeeze around the base of his length and each time he draws back, it's as though he's being pulled right back in. his testicles slap against sandalphon's skin with each thrust and he's starting to feel the pleasure begin to coil like a spring in his abdomen, tighter and tighter. his climax isn't far off now, just a little more—
he bites his lip almost hard enough to draw blood and his free hand snakes down to take of sandalphon's cock, stroking it roughly in time to his thrusts, taking him, possessing him. sandalphon is his and his alone. and with one last movement he buries himself all the way to the hilt and stays there, his breath hitching in his throat and his body tensing up as he spills his release in thick spurts. ]
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He could so easily come just like this, his cock untouched, expects it, even, so when Belial's hand comes to wrap those skilled fingers around him again and begins to stroke, he almost can't take it anymore. It all happens so, so fast— the hand on his cock, Belial thrusting himself deeper than he ever did and staying there, and the burst of warmth, of Belial, coming inside him, filling him up so completley— all of it is so much at once it's as if something inside him breaks from the strain— a trembling, shaking shudder runs though his whole body as his pleasure hits its peak, only his own tiredness and belial's iron grip keeping him from thrashing in place in response to the onslaught of overstimulation, an downright lewd expression of mindless bliss settling on his face as a raw, wordless cry of pleasure tears itself from his throat in the intensity of orgasm. ]
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he blinks a few times, grounding himself back in reality and feels the post-orgasm feeling disapitate through his being until it dwindles out. with a grunt, he pulls out his now spent cock and his mouth curves when he sees the white fluid begin to drip out. he licks his lips with satisfaction as he looks sandalphon over. he looks so utterly debauched. the perfect picture of sin. it's almost as good as the sex itself! when was the last time he's felt this pleased with himself just looking at his partner's post-orgasm face? belial doesn't remember.
he quickly licks up most of the semen on his palm and fingers before wiping the rest against sandalphon's thigh, then shifts the leg off his shoulder. he spends another couple of seconds admiring his handiwork, then slides into bed next to sandalphon, wrapping an arm around him and pulling him closer to the middle of the bed so his legs aren't awkwardly dangling over the edge.
he presses his body close to sandalphon's and gently kisses the charm mark on the back of his neck. ]
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Yes, that's what he feels above all— a deep, deep relief. The sensation that fill him now in the post-coital haze and as his blurry, overstimulated senses calm, his fiercely beating facsimile of a mortal's heart finally slowing back down to its regular pace, a warm, calm, contentment on another level— as if an itch that has been bothering him for far far too long has finally been scratched, as if something that has been tugging at him has finally relented and let go. He's unbothered by Belial's come dripping out of him, or the mess his own release has made; the first almost pleases him, even, and he finds himself wishing he could keep it in to relish the sensation of being filled up just a little longer, while the second just barely registers as a nuisance.
Belial settling him into a much more comfortable position, wrapping an arm around him as if to cuddle, makes him very aware of his own exhaustion, and he's just about ready to drift off when he feels Belail's lips press against a warm, sensitive point on the back. He can't possibly get aroused again this soon, but it stirs something in him; without thinking, he finds himself turning his body back around to face Belial, wrapping an arm at his side to match him, pressing the front of his body to Belial's own, and his face into Belial's chest, burying himself in the slight dip in the middle with a content sigh. ]
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[ he exhales an amused breath from his lungs when sandalphon buries hhis face in the small valley between his pectorals. maybe this is the answer to his earlier question about which part of his body sandalphon likes the most; now that sandalphon has seen every inch of him it seems that the part he likes the most is the cleavage. though, given all the sweet faces and noises he was making just moments earlier, maybe his cock is the best part of all.
he strokes sandalphon's hair lazily, carding his fingers through the chestnut waves and winding one of the longer strands around his finger as he watches him with half-lidded eyes. sandalphon looks so deliciously vulnerable like this, all fucked out and content to lie there with belial's semen still inside him. even now, he half expects to wake up and learn it was all a very erotic dream; he knows without a doubt it's not, but it feels a little unreal.
now all that's left is to wait for the charm spell to wear off and see how open the supreme slut is to making this a regular thing. ]
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But before his mind can truly drop into the depths of sleep, only managing to settle into something like a light half-napping state, something starts to change, and it takes another good few minutes before he feels it. It happens slowly, the way the world around him seems to shift; the fog around his head beginning to fade, thinking becoming easier, his head slowly clearing. It seems to creep up on him, his emptied mind slowly filling up again, the fuzziness that seems to have him in a tight hold letting him loose and letting other thoughts flow in— as if it had been preventing them from coming in. At some point he feels as if he had woken up from a long sleep, as if he had been deep underwater and finally come up into the air; he blinks his eyes open with a low groan.
At first, the thing that he feels is frustration— at the loss off this pleasant, fuzzy calm, that had seemed so right to fall and sway into, that it has taken away his easier sleepiness but left him with that uncomfortable tiredness. Then the realization that this isn't his bed, that there's something in front of him, warm, breathing, alive— no, he has his arm wrapped around the body, and an arm around him, and all of it big, and he raises his head, squinting, blinking, only to come face to face with Belial looking right down at him.
He pauses, squints for a few seconds more, expression rather on the groggy side, as the realization and understanding and the memories all flood back into his mind right at once, then releases Belial and rolls over on his other side with his back to Belial with a low groan. ]
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Good morning, sunshine. [ he purrs when sandalphon looks up at him, pleased like a cat that just caught the canary. ] You awake and ready to live with the consequences?
[ when sandalphon rolls over, belial smiles faintly and drags the pads over his fingers over the curve of his spine, feeling every indentation and defined muscle. the charm mark has almost faded from the back of his neck now, with only the outer edges remaining. he wants to kiss it, but he decides not to push his luck too much now that sandalphon might tell him off for it.]
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How he just—
Sandalphon stills and freezes in place, eyes snapping back open, as the events of the past hour or so suddenly begin to really, really, truly register, and with it, so does a very distinct awareness of his own body. His own completely naked body, tired and aching, covered in a fine sheet of sweat, lying in Belial's bed, who's just as naked himself, and a distinct sensation of... something wet dripping from inside him... oh. Oh, right, that was... he had... the realization brings with it horror of the thought that he had, with his own words, with his own mouth, asked for it, begged for it, let Belial see how badly he needed him— has had Belail not just inside him again, but in his mouth, and, and...
... And that every second of it felt so, so good. The horror and disgust with himself that comes with each recollection is offset by the pleasant, warm buzz running through it, the aftershocks of orgasm still remaining, the thought of how his mind kept going blank and vision blinded with the pleasure, the sheer relief of having this horrible clawing ache in him finally satisfied. Belial gave him everything he craved and wanted, and yet even more, things Sandalphon himself didn't know, didn't so much think he'd want or need, and the result is that he feels pleasantly, wonderfully spent. The stickiness of sweat and fluid dripping inside him isn't pleasant, but if it weren't for that source of discomfort he thinks he'd almost prefer to stay in bed.
... But he's not going to let Belial know that. No way. Not when he knows he's also already given Belial ample material to mess with him and tease him. And, actually, speaking of which— Sandalphon turns his head back to look at Belial and glares, less venomous than exhausted: ]
I imagine you have a lot to say to me. [ He speaks finally, in a hoarse voice that's worn out from use. ] ... Go on ahead, then. Just... [ He sighs, and says in a resigned tone: ] Get it out of your system.
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I never would've imagined that you'd be such a slut. You act like a prude but deep down you're almost as bad as me, heh. [ belial laughs a deceptively sift laugh, fingertips finding their way to the small of sandalphon's back, stopping there as though he's considering whether or not he can go further down without getting a punch to the jaw. ]
I'm sure you think you're satisfied with just this, but I think you'll come back for more.
[ the floodgates have been opened. the summon gave him a craving for surrendering his free will over to someone else and that sweet bliss of mindless obedience; he already came to him once to reenact a traumatic experience and belial doubts he'll want to stop there. he'll probably spend countless nights with his hand between his legs, getting himself off to the memory but simply reliving it in his head won't be close enough to the real thing. ]
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I see you have enough modesty and self awareness to admit to at least some of your own shortcomings. [ He snaps back, fighting off the memory of Belial eyeing him up like a piece of meat, cooing poisonously, perversely sweet words over his body, calling him an eager little thing and such a good little cockslut with heavy breaths in between thrusts, how his most demeaning, coarse words felt like glowing praise, fighting off the way just remembering these words makes his heart beat, but not in the way that it should. Fighting off the memory of how every word from Belial's mouth felt holy, how it felt to be under Belial's control, the bizzare, foreign, unnatural feelings of slavish adoration he felt for this despicable, treacherous creature.
It's mortifying to think about now. Mortifying, humiliating, disgusting. The idea of thinking in such terms of anyone but Lucifer— and he wants to think of Lucifer right now even less, of how he's betrayed him and his memory in this way, let alone how this act has disgraced his title and position. And yet, when he remembers how intoxicated he was on the feeling, how freeing it was to let loose and forget everything but Belial, how he's felt calmer and more relaxed within these few hours than he's had in a long, long, long time...
... He needs to get away from here. Away from Belial. Now. He's gotten what he came here for, and that's all there is to it. Just a one time thing, to stave off his own frustration. ]
Anyway, don't hold your breath. [ Sandalphon sits up, looking around for his clothes, and slips off the bed as he spots them, trying not to be too self-conscious about his nakedness as he begins to gather them up from where Belial put them. ]
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anger at himself for succumbing to the desire to experience that feeling again. for sullying lucifer's title and acting unbecoming of the supreme primarch, who should be pure and perfect in every way. the shame of knowing he enjoyed every second he was under belial's sway, every filthy word said to him sounding like he was being lavished with praise. every thrust into that tight ass of his, being filled up with the seed of his enemy.
it's satisfying to think about that internal turmoil. ]
Not even gonna stick around to cuddle? Wow, I had no idea you were the 'fuck and chuck' kinda guy. [ he says, face grimacing with mock hurt as the weight of sandalphon's body lifts off the mattress. he remains where he is for a couple of seconds, chin propped on the palm of his hand as he watches sandalphon pick up his clothes, before sitting up. he scoots closer to the bedside table and pulls the drawer open, retrieving a box of tissues. ]
Might wanna clean up a little; you've probably still got plenty of me inside.
[ it would be funny to let sandalphon walk the walk of shame with semen leaking from his ass, but he'll be nice to him this time. he tosses the box in a low arc that's easy enough to catch. ]
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He catches the box of tissues without difficulty, but the reminder makes him grimace at the thought. It's not wrong— he can still feel some of Belial's come inside him, a little bit lightly dripping out of him and small droplets leaking down his thighs, and it still feels odd, and unfamiliar, and it's all the more of a strange sensation when that part of his body feels rather sensitive and sore from use. It just amplifies the sense of being sullied and dirty, and he'll need to get back to his room and take a long, thorough shower and clean himself up to scrub the feeling out of his body, and then give his clothes a thorough wash.
For now, though, he can't exactly make it back to his room unclothed, and he doesn't want to walk around with it still dripping, and he has no intention of wiping himself right in front of Belial on top of everything else. He looks around for the door to small, compact bathrooms installed next to every bedroom on the Grandcypher, and slips inside the second he finds it, closing the door behind him for privacy, feeling a little bit like he's running away from Belial's low, teasing voice and sly eyes that both seem to pierce into him.
The second he's inside, he lets out a small sigh runs his hand across his face, feeling his face flush as more and more and more memories of what he's done under his sway resurface and the full embarrassment of this situation seems to finally sink in. ]
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he glances towards the full length mirror in the corner of the room and having deemed himself presentable, he tosses the towel onto his bed and steps into his underwear and pants, pulling them up over his legs and into place. ]
Mm, you really are something else, Sandy. [ he says, making sure it's loud enough to carry through the closed door. ] Even if you don't come back for more, I'll remember this forever.
[ he draws a long sigh of utter contentment as he reaches for his jacket, sliding his arms into the sleeves. if anyone had told him this morning that sandy was going to approach him for a quick fuck, he would have laughed himself hoarse. lucilius's death still weighs heavily on his shoulders, but he might have something new and exciting to look forward to now. sandalphon's descent into corruption will be his little pet project. ]