Being engulfed fully in the soft, wet warmth of Belial's mouth sent shudders up Gabriel's spine, and he clutched desperately at the arms of the chair as a tense desire began to coil itself low in his abdomen. The demon's tongue traced teasing circles around his cock, making him cry out with the pleasure of it.

Timidly, cautiously, like one reaching wonderingly towards an open flame, he pressed a hand to Belial's face, enamored with the haunting sight of his length disappearing past eager lips. Stroked Belial's cheek, brushed a strand of dark hair from his forehead. All the while, Belial's eyes smoldered on his own, pupils expanded until only a faint ring of dark color was left around each. He looked drunk, Gabriel thought. Intoxicated with his own administrations to the angel's body.

And then Belial's low moan reverberated around him, and he shut his eyes tightly against the sight that threatened to finish him.

Gabriel wound his fingers in the hair at the nape of the demon's neck, shoving forward his hips, whimpering, "Please, Belial. Please..."

He shuddered as the demon seemed to take even more of him into his mouth, until the angel could feel the head of his cock rubbing against the back of Belial's throat along with the featherlight touch of Belial's fingers over his inner thigh. He tensed, the demon's name falling from his lips over and over again in a heated mantra. He begged, hating himself for it.

When he came, there were stars behind his eyes.

He threw his head back, his grip on Belial's hair wrenching, as he shuddered, arched, and felt himself spill into the eager suction of the other's mouth.

In the next breath, it had passed, and a wordless weakness overcame him. He slid from the edge of the seat, landing hard on the floor, where he sat, a trembling, gaping mass, something akin to fear in his eyes.