(no subject)

[lordofthesouth.livejournal.com]

Date: December 27, 1999
Setting: Tadfield Manor, Crowley's Room
Status: Private - Belial, Crowley, John, Aziraphale, Gabriel
Summary: Belial draws up a contract.



Belial came ready to deal.

He rapped sharply on Crowley's door, hoping he'd picked an opportune time to catch the other demon in his chambers. Tried to make it look like he hadn't been pacing for an entire day, and that there was some semblance of civility to the way his hair fell in rumpled strands all about his face.

Tried to make it seem like he hadn't had Gabriel in his mouth, didn't know the way the angel tasted, didn't smell too much like sex and Heaven.

Resting his forehead on the frame of Crowley's door, he waited, thumb picking at the delicate molding. He was doing this for himself, he had no illusions; he could no longer tolerate Lucifer's hold on him.

And for Gabriel. His beautiful Gabriel who would have him if things were different. He put a hard face on for Gabriel's sake, and would get what he wanted for it.

Comments

[anthony-crowley.livejournal.com]

Crowley looked surprised as Belial lapped at his wrist. That wasn't part of the ritual. Nor did he recall any need for the party of the second part to be sitting on the increasingly interested lap of the party of the first part. But there was still one thing that had yet to be done. He separated their sticky hands and licked a broad swath across Belial's palm so that he could see the marks he'd made.

Then, ever so delicately, he traced the cuts with his tongue and they began to close. The edges of each loop and slash fused and the bleeding stopped, but the claiming mark, his true signature, still remained and would for some time.

Crowley leaned back, his tongue thickly coated with heady demon blood, and presented his own hand.

[lordofthesouth.livejournal.com]

Belial shook with unsatisfied desire, biting his lower lip as Crowley's tongue burned a path along his flayed skin, aching to watch his fingers disappear into Crowley's blood-stained mouth.

Wishing it were Gabriel touching him so delicately, gently, making him sore at heart and loin. Hoping desperately that soon it would be.

He drew Crowley's hand to his mouth and licked it with the broad of his tongue, like a submitting dog, eyes downcast and lashes struggling to hold heavy tears back. Relief flooded him, mingled with the smell of sex and sweet bloody skin. His hair fell before his black eyes, obscuring his view of Crowley.

[anthony-crowley.livejournal.com]

Amazed at how intense the combination of Belial's submissive posture, slick tongue, and hard length pressing against his thigh could be, Crowley tried to get his racing pulse under control and spoke gutturally.

"Well, I think that's it, then..."

It was a hint, a plea, for Belial to stand up and let him compose himself for what was to come.

[lordofthesouth.livejournal.com]

The sound of Crowley's voice was like a slap in the face; he slid obediently off the other demon's lap to the floor, kneeling beside the contract and the third of John's hovering soul, wiping blood off in damp clots.

It was done, then. The deal was made, the bargain struck; now all that was left was the exchange of goods.

"I apologize for any offense," he murmured, eyes canted downwards.

[anthony-crowley.livejournal.com]

Crowley took a deep breath, reached for Belial's chin, and gently tilted it up to face him.

"There was no offense," he said softly and more steadily than he would have thought he could. "But it's time that this was done."

Leaning forward he pressed his lips to Belial's in a chaste kiss and stood, extending his undamaged right hand to help Belial up.