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Chapter Text

Lonnie carries a stack of books to one of the shelves, a few scrolls held in his tail. He hums to himself as he puts them away, careful not to damage the soft leather cover of one as he places it on the shelf. His ears prick up at the sound of clinking crystal, too quiet for human ears to notice. It clues him on immediately on who is standing behind him. “Evenin’, Myr, what can I do for ya?”

The angel is quiet for a moment, though Lonnie can hear their wings ruffling, sees a muted flash of red. Oh boy. He turns to face them, setting the books down on a nearby table. Their current form is a lanky human with close-cropped silver hair. Their blue eyes are narrowed, a frown marring their normally cheerful face. “I have a concern, and I was hoping you could assist me.”

The gargoyle arches a stony brow “Okay? What kinda concern?”

Lonnie rarely left the Agency nowadays, his mob enforcer days far behind him. He’s quite content to stay in and guard the library that is now considered his domain. It reminds him of the Monastery he was hatched at, and, contrary to what most agents believed, he likes the peace and quiet more than fighting. Now, that doesn’t mean a brawl doesn’t still get his blood flowing, or that he ain’t willing to lend a hand. He’s no coward.

“Reggie.”

“Shit,” the gargoyle sighs. “What happened this time?”

As one of the Agency’s few fireproof members, he’s often the one called to deal with the teenaged Nephalem’s temper tantrums. Not that Lonnie didn’t think the teen was justified in having them. The kid often hid out in the library when he wasn’t training, so the gargoyle had gotten to know him fairly well over the years, which was another reason he often was called in. Poor thing was stifled and frustrated, mentally and sexually, and while Lonnie knows Parker wasn’t doing it on purpose, having a former angel for a father was doing the kid no favors. Parker refused to allow Reggie to have a human partner, but also wouldn’t let him find a partner in the Agency, insisting that he try it the human way, and wait until he reached human adulthood. Roxie had tried to get him to understand that it wasn’t that simple, that Reggie being half-demon meant that it was important for him to experience it sooner, but Parker had pointed out that that meant he was half-angel too, and therefore would be fine.

Yea, the kid was absolutely not fine. And ever since he’d found his fiend fyre, it had gotten even worse. Sealing off his powers was not enough to shut off his drive. Lonnie had briefly considered just saying Fuck It and offering his help whether Parker approved or not, but he didn’t want it to fall back on the kid and get him in trouble.

“Nothing yet.” Mesmyr’s voice pulls him from his musings. “But he’s in one of the practice rooms, thankfully alone, and Master Tamamo said that three training dummies have already been reduced to cinder. I’m hoping you might be able to intervene before we have another meltdown. They’re not good for him.”

Lonnie scoffs “Yea, well maybe if Parker wasn’t fuckin’ blue ballin’ the kid to death, we’d be able to cut the meltdowns in half.”

“Yesterday was his birthday,” Mesmyr states calmly.

Lonnie’s brow furrows “Yea I remember, what’s that got-” Oh. Oh. It was his eighteenth birthday. Now that he’s faced with the opportunity to ask, he hesitates. He’s fireproof, sturdy, and a hell of a lot stronger currently than Reggie, so right now he’s the best choice for the aggressive, sexually frustrated Nephalem. But the kid’s been raised around humans, and in Lonnie’s experience, humans are weird about sex. Would he even be willing to accept the gargoyle as a partner? Sure, the kid needs a good lay to chill out, but Lonnie refuses to force him into it, even for his own good. He ain’t a monster anymore.

Memsyr seems able to read his mind, and smiles, setting a hand on his arm, their wings glowing a comforting yellow. “Do your best. I trust you to handle things better than anyone.”

“Even over the Chief?” Lonnie jokes, tail swishing idly with amusement. Memsyr laughs “That’s like putting gasoline on a forest fire half the time, so yes.”

Lonnie laughs with them “Okay, okay, I’ll see what I can do, doll.”

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He quickly changes out of his dress shirt and slacks, choosing just a pair of loose-fitting shorts. His claws click on the metal floor outside the training room. He can smell smoke, and when he opens the door, he sees the smoldering piles that were once the practice dummies. He zeroes in on the sound of fists meeting canvas, and glances in the direction of the punching bags. He spots his missing Nephalem, taking swings at one of the enchanted bags meant to be able to take just about anything a non-human could throw at it. There’s blood dripping down the kid’s arms and coating the bag from busted knuckles, and flames flickering along his hair and wings. Lonnie notices that he’s so focused he doesn’t hear the gargoyle coming closer. Not a great sign. The kid hasn’t noticed him at all, while Lonnie could smell him from the hallway. He knows the Nephalem’s hands will be healed up like nothing ever happened by the end of the night, but still.

He waits patiently a few feet away, arms crossed over his chest, until Reggie puts his hands down to take a breath, then speaks up “Havin’ fun makin’ a mess in here, kid?”

The kid startles and whips around, puffing up his wings. When he spots the gargoyle standing there with a raised brow, his shoulders droop “Fuck off, Lonnie.” His tone is downright frigid, but the gargoyle shrugs it off.

“Ya know, if Alcmene sees those hands like that, she’s gonna blow a friggin’ gasket,” Lonnie notes with amusement.

Reggie bristles, the flames in his hair spreading along his horns “Then maybe mind your own fucking business and don’t tell her!”

Lonnie raises his hands in a gesture of surrender “I ain’t gonna tell her. You know I ain’t no snitch. Ise just comin’ to see if you wanna spar.”

“No.” Reggie bites off the end of the word “Leave me alone.”

Lonnie hums “Ya sure? Lot more fun to hit a target that can hit back.”

“I said fuck off!” The kid barks, attempting to storm past him to the door.

Lonnie groans internally and grabs his arm before the kid can leave, yanking him closer and causing the kid to stumble. Reggie bares his fangs at the gargoyle, ebony wings arching over his head, feathers bristling and tail lashing like a pissed off cat “Let go or I swear I’ll-!”

“You’ll what?” Lonnie growls, baring his own fangs right back. Being eight feet tall and nearly two hundred pounds heavier than the Nephalem means his intimidation factor is much higher. The line Lonnie’s walking is a delicate balance between getting the kid angry enough to take a swing at him, while not getting so angry as to bathe the room in fiend fyre. Learning to vent the building steam with someone he trusts will be better for him in the long run.

To his credit, Reggie doesn’t cower at the display. Instead, the gargoyle catches a zing of arousal in his scent before he looks away, the fire coating his alabaster horns dimming. Well, that helps soothe Lonnie’s fears for sure. “Fine,” the kid mutters, and Lonnie lets go of his arm, walking to the training mats and waiting for the Nephalem to follow. He doesn’t have to wait long, and soon enough they’re squaring up on the mats, eyeing each other to see who will move first. Lonnie waits patiently; he’s sat in stone for over a century at a time before so this is nothing. Besides, it gives him a second to study his opponent. He knows that the kid’s always been uncomfortable with his inhuman traits, but Lonnie finds them pretty damn attractive. Pale horns that gleam when flickering fire dances on their surface, a sleek tail coated in layers of delicate black armor, and glossy black feathered wings that he’d love to get his claws on.

He’s drawn from his musings by the right hook aimed for his head. He dodges back, narrowly avoiding the swing, and retaliates with one of his own, which Reggie ducks, hissing when Lonnie lightly clips his horn. They dance around each other, Lonnie getting the first full hit on the Nephalem’s chest, knocking him to the mat. He grins when the kid climbs to his feet and lunges right back at him. He has to hand it to the kid though, the Nephalem is scrappy, and stubborn. Kid’ll be downright dangerous in a decade or two.

They both manage to get a few good hits in, though Lonnie’s sure that the kid can tell he’s pulling his punches. A full-strength punch from an adult gargoyle could kill him. He ain’t tryin’ to hurt Reggie, and he also doesn’t need or want Alcmene on his ass if he puts him in the med wing for a shattered sternum. The gorgon’s sight might not affect him, but she can get creative when she wants to.

At some point, he gets Reggie in a hold, and the smaller of the two realizes he’s not going to be able to break out of it easily, so the kid tries a different tactic. Lonnie isn’t proud of the yelp he makes when the Nephalem kicks his goddamn knee, sending them both to the mats. He manages to catch himself on his elbow to keep from crushing his opponent under his bulky stone body, though he’s still pressed full length against the Nephalem underneath him. Reggie freezes when they hit the ground, obviously not expecting to end up in such a… compromising position. Their faces are close enough that Lonnie can make out flecks of gold in his dark brown eyes. The gargoyle searches his face, noting the sudden nervousness flickering through it. Reggie’s tail swishes anxiously over the mat. Lonnie locks eyes with him, ignoring his own growing interest pressed against the Nephalem’s thigh, focusing instead on the kid’s stuttering breaths and wide-blown pupils. They stare at each other for a long moment, breath mingling in the shared space. “This ain’t gotta go any further if you don’t want it to.” He wants it to, fuck he desperately wants the gorgeous little Nephalem in his bed, but he won’t force him. Kid’s already had a rough enough go of things from the start without adding ‘awful first time’ to the list. “We can just go back to sparring, or do somethin’ else entirely if youse want to.”

The kid swallows, and Lonnie’s eyes travel down. He can see the flutter of Reggie’s pulse against his skin, and if he were anyone else Lonnie would already have sunk his fangs into that soft throat. But his healing isn’t quite up to par yet, and Lonnie isn’t about to scare him like that. “I… I don’t know,” is the kid’s response, and Lonnie’s own tail flicks in frustration. “I’m not doing nothin’ without a yes from you, kid.” As much as it pains him, the gargoyle starts to untangle himself from Reggie, only pausing when the Nephalem grabs his arm in a panic “Wait!”

Lonnie looks down at him and raises a brow. Reggie bites his lip and looks down, worrying at it with his much smaller fangs, his ears turning red “Would saying please work?” he mumbles, and seven hells if that doesn’t send spikes of heat straight through the gargoyle.

“Yea, yea that works.” He continues to untangle them when Reggie tils his head and asks, “Where are you going then?”

He snorts and gets to his feet, reaching down and helping the kid up. He leans down and doesn’t miss the way Reggie’s wings flutter ever so slightly “We’re going to my room. Your bed won’ hold us both, and I ain’t about to get us both yelled at for fucking in the training room.” Not that Lonnie hadn’t absolutely thought about it. And to be honest, most of the Agency’s non-human members wouldn’t even bat an eye at it. But the kid was raised by humans. And they’re very private creatures about sex. And maybe, just maybe, Lonnie’s a little territorial about it. Just a little. Sue him.

He conjures up a door and leads the way through it, closing it behind them. Reggie looks around curiously, never having been in the gargoyle’s quarters under the library. It looks like a room in an old castle, with stone walls, an enormous fireplace, plush chairs, and a huge four-poster bed, all lit up with ever-burning torches on the wall. “Fancy,” he teases Lonnie, who rolls his eyes. “I’m old school, sue me.”

Reggie shakes his head “No, no, I like it!” A crooked grin quirks up the edges of his mouth “Are you middle-aged, or Middle Ages?”

Lonnie gives him a flat look and swats the kid with his tail, making him jump “Ow, hey!” Reggie tries to swat him back, but Lonnie catches the slim tail in his hand, tugging gently to bring the Nephalem closer to him, bodies colliding with a quiet ‘oof’. The gargoyle catches the kid’s hip with his free hand, drawing circles on soft skin with the claw on his thumb. His other hand travels up to the base of the Nephalem’s tail, rubbing the spot where armor turns to skin, smirking when Reggie shudders and lets out the quietest moan. Even though they’re two vastly different creatures, having a lot of analogous parts means he knows exactly where the kid’s sweet spots are going to be, and tails can be super sensitive.

Curling his claws around it, Lonnie gives the tail in his hand another gentle tug, earning a whimper in return. He moves his other hand up from the kid’s hip to his wings, lightly running his claws over the arch of each one. He can feel them quiver, the whimpers turning into quiet gasps from Reggie, who has his arms braced on Lonnie’s chest.

The gargoyle doesn’t want to move too fast too soon, but he wants to see all of him, wants to hear more of those sweet sounds, run his claws over every inch of him. He curls a claw under Reggie’s chin, tilting the kid’s head up to look at him “Do me a favor, doll, and take everything off.”

Reggie blinks, taking a minute to process things again through the haze of hormones, which Lonnie gets. “Everything?” he echoes nervously. The gargoyle once again tamps down his desire to go on a rant about humans and shame and instead just nods. “Everything.”

Stepping back entirely, he debates a moment before deciding he can lead by example, stripping off his shorts and tossing them on a nearby chair. The redness in Reggie’s ears travels down to his cheeks, brown eyes fixed squarely on the gargoyle’s cock. He can see the hunger in the kid’s eyes, his nature warring with his inexperience. Lonnie knows that, as a gargoyle, he’s larger than any human by a vast margin. Demons, and by extension half-demons like Cambions and Nephalem, were practically made to take someone like him though.

To his credit, the Nephalem doesn’t shy away, pulling off his tank top and shorts and tossing them onto another chair. Seven hells, the things Lonnie wants to do to him. He’s already tall for a human his age, shoulders starting to broaden just like Parker. His tail swishes anxiously when Lonnie steps back into his space, feathers puffing up. “Relax kid, ain’t nothin’ gonna happen except what you want. You don’t like somethin’? Tell me.”

“Yea, okay.” He still sounds anxious, which the gargoyle understands. So far, things have gone mostly how he expected, aggression smothered by shyness. Once things get moving, and the kid’s more comfortable, Lonnie knows the Nephalem will get rougher. For now, the gargoyle scoops him up, hiding a smirk when the kid fucking squeaks, and uses a quick snap of his wings to land on the bed. Dropping to his knees, he sets Reggie down, hovering over him and admiring the way the deep red linens contrast all the Nephalem’s colors, from the white horns to rich skin to black wings. Seeing the kid splayed out under him like this is… doing things to him. Lonnie’s always liked the contrast of soft flesh against his own rocky shell, the way it gives when he presses his claws to it, not quite hard enough to sink in fully.

He gently drags his claws once again down both feathered wings, making the Nephalem arch off the bed with a whine, head tilted back and eyes closed, inadvertently showing off his throat again. This time, the gargoyle takes advantage of the moment, leaning his head down and sealing his mouth over Reggie’s pulse, suckling on the skin there, his tongue pressing to the thrumming vein. It’s fucking addicting, especially when he feels it jump, hears the stuttering gasp the kid lets out. A soft, warm hand wraps around one of Lonnie’s horns but doesn’t try to move his head. Physically, Reggie isn’t strong enough to move the gargoyle, but if Lonnie felt the attempt, he would move. His claws travel down, touching and teasing every inch of skin and drawing sounds from the Nephalem beneath him that make his cock twitch and his fangs ache. Gods, he wants to ravage him, and it is only thanks to centuries of practicing self-control that he doesn’t do just that.

Eventually, his lips move from the bruise he’s sucked into the kid’s throat, traveling down his chest. The gargoyle’s tongue flicks over a perky nipple, lips wrapping around it and sucking. The long, drawn-out moan he receives for his efforts is music to his fucking ears. He scrapes fang over it lightly, drawing another gasp. He smirks when he feels the hand around his horn tighten, and slowly Lonnie travels down further, leaving a trail of featherlight kisses on smooth skin. The gargoyle shifts back when he reaches Reggie’s hips, wrapping his claws around them and ducking his head to run his tongue up the Nephalem’s cock, tracing over each vein.

“Fuck!”

He forces the kid’s hips back down when they jerk, superior strength keeping them in place while the gargoyle takes him into his mouth. A choked moan is Lonnie’s reward, as is the feeling of delicate claws digging into his rocky horn. The kid has to be close, with how much Lonnie’s been teasing him, but demon drives are high, and the refractory periods short. Even when he cums, Lonnie knows it ain’t gonna be anywhere near over.

Not needing to breathe makes deep-throating much easier for the gargoyle. He swallows around the cock in his throat, tongue pressed to his pulse, and feels Reggie squirm under him, wings quivering, tail wrapping around Lonnie’s other horn. He glances up, smirking at the sight of the Nephalem with his head thrown back, eyes closed tight, free hand twisted in the sheets. Lonnie watches his ribs move under his skin as he draws in another ragged breath. Gods, this kid is beautiful.

“Lonnieee.” Reggie’s needy whine when he cums nearly does the gargoyle in right then and there, nearly breaks his self-control. He milks the Nephalem for every drop before he pulls off, giving the kid a breather for a second.

“Youse wanna keep goin’? Or call it quits here?” Lonnie rumbles quietly, nuzzling his hip.

“Keep- keep going,” Reggie pants, “please.”

Well, who the fuck is he to say no when asked so politely?

A whispered spell coats his claws in slick lube, dulling the points before he presses one to the Nephalem’s tight entrance. Hearing the kid’s quiet hiss, he shifts back up, hovering over him. “Don’t tense up, that’ll make it worse.” It’s been a long time since he’s bottomed for anyone, but he still knows the ropes, and he ain’t about to fuck the much smaller Nephalem without a shitload of prep and a ton of lube. Lonnie leans down, nibbling and nipping at the kid’s collarbone, his free hand running over Reggie’s horns, the curve of his wings, anything to help distract him while the gargoyle adds a second claw, working him open. When Lonnie adds a third, he brushes over a spot that leaves Reggie gasping, arching his back and writhing under the gargoyle, the kid’s claws dragging furrows in stony skin and sending up sparks.

Of course, all that does is turn Lonnie on more. It’s been a long time since someone could do actual damage to him, and he’s fucking aching to fill the pretty Nephalem, especially when he leans over and the kid sinks his fangs into the gargoyle’s shoulder. Lonnie groans, causing the fangs to retreat from his stony hide.

“Sorry, I-”

Lonnie shakes his head, cutting Reggie off “Don’t be, felt good. We ain’t human, remember? You can be aggressive with me. Your baby fangs aren’t enough to do much damage to me anyway.” Even if they were able to damage him, Lonnie would just enjoy it more. He ducks his head, sealing his lips to Reggie’s bloodied ones, licking into his mouth and moaning at how he tastes. Fuck, he wants to eat this kid alive.

Lonnie’s own sounds seem to encourage his smaller partner, who drags his claws down the broad expanse of the gargoyle’s chest and over the webbing of his leathery wings. It stings, but in a good way, like an itch Lonnie’s wanted scratched for so long. In a bold move that the gargoyle hadn’t expected, Reggie leans back on the pillow, slowly licking his claws clean.

Lonnie is not ashamed to admit how close he got to cumming just from that. He worries his usual stamina isn’t going to hold up after the contact-less edging he’s getting. Kid’s a fucking natural (of course, part of that may come from having a lust demon as a grandmother, but nuance).

Deciding that he’s prepped enough now, Lonnie removes his claws, kissing away the needy whimpers he gets from the Nephalem underneath him as he silently conjures more lube to his hand, heavily slicking up his cock.

Reggie shifts his legs when Lonnie’s bulk settles between his thighs, forcing them wider. The gargoyle keeps himself propped up on his elbows, not wanting to put too much of his weight on the Nephalem, and presses his cock to the kid’s entrance. Even with lube and prep, it’s a tight fit as he presses deeper, but he goes slow, watching Reggie’s face for any signs of pain. The Nephalem pants, claws digging into Lonnie’s shoulders, adjusting to the gargoyle’s monstrous cock. Lonnie lets his tail twine with Reggie’s slimmer one as he bottoms out, holding himself there and taking a slow breath through his nose. The kid is tight, and feels fucking incredible, and so goddamn warm. Lonnie himself has always been described as a living heater, but Reggie still beats him by a good margin. Probably cause of the fiend fyre.

He waits a few more seconds before slowly moving his hips back, stopping about halfway out before sinking into the Nephalem’s tight heat again, watching his eyes roll back, the sweet moans dripping from bloodied lips driving the gargoyle insane. He leans onto just one elbow and grips under Reggie’s knee, pressing his leg back to get an even better angle, before his lips latch onto Reggie’s pulse point once again. Shivers run down his spine when he feels an even louder moan vibrate through the kid’s throat, a hand once again wrapping around one of his horns “Fuck, Lonnie, please!”

Hearing him beg like that does no favors for Lonnie’s self-control, and the gargoyle gives in just a little, his thrusts becoming harder, faster, snapping his hips and driving his cock home again and again. He wraps a hand around slim wrists and presses them against the pillows above their heads, biting into the warm flesh of his shoulder. The Nephalem keens, writhing under the gargoyle’s bulk, sweet heat clamped tight around Lonnie’s cock, painting his stony hide white when he cums for a second time. Lonnie indulges himself for a little longer, but as he expected, all too soon he feels that familiar pull in the bottom of his stomach. He drives his cock home one final time, hot cum filling the Nephalem to the brim.

He extricates his fangs from Reggie’s shoulder, feeling a little guilty as he hadn’t intended to bite that hard. Luckily, the Nephalem under him doesn’t seem to mind, looking well and properly fucked out. Lonnie pulls out of him slowly, making Reggie whimper quietly. The gargoyle leans down, kissing from the bite wound on the kid’s shoulder up to his jaw, giving him a minute to come back to himself. He slips off his bed and steps into the bathroom for a washcloth. He could use magic, but he prefers to rely on his own two hands when taking care of his partners. Once they’re both cleaned up, he lays down and pulls the Nephalem into his hold, leathery wings wrapping around feathered ones.

“How ya feelin’ kid?”

“Sore. Good sore,” he mumbles sleepily, making Lonnie smile. The things he’d do for this kid.

Current Day

One Month Before the events of Fire and Smoke

Lonnie lounges in one of the library’s plush armchairs, flipping through an old Latin manuscript. He looks up at the sound of boots on the wooden floor. He knows who they belong to well before anyone comes into view, having memorized most agents’ tread by this point. Sure enough, Reggie rounds one of the bookshelves, his wings dragging a little on the floor. Lonnie’s stony brow darts up and he sets the manuscript aside, leaning forward in his seat, trying and failing not to wrinkle his nose at the rancid smell of rotten cabage and sewer water that accompanies the Nephalem “Hiya doll, wasn’t expecting any of youse to get back before Wednesday.” He looks Reggie over, noting the black goop and dirt covering almost every inch of him.

Reggie drops heavily into the seat across from him and gives a half-hearted wave “We weren’t expecting to be back this soon either. But turns out it wasn’t any kind of demonic activity, just a bunch of slimers.”

Gross. Well, that explained the smell, and the goop. Slimers weren’t dangerous, but they were nasty, rowdy little critters, and were murder on anyone with a sensitive sense of smell, like himself and Reggie.

“I was wondering if you could help me clean my wings off?” The Nephalem asks sheepishly, eyes flicking down. Over a decade has passed since they first did anything together, and the kid still acts shy around him sometimes. Lonnie finds it endearingly frustrating.

“Course, doll.” He gets to his feet and makes a face when Reggie peels himself from the chair “Did youse have to get goop all over my fuckin’ library though? Come on, whatsa matter with you? Go, shoo, outta here!” Reggie rolls his eyes, a quick flicker of magic cleaning the chair as he walks towards the back of the library, where the door to Lonnie’s quarters sits. The gargoyle follows, and if anyone asked, he’s behind the kid to check for more goop on the library floor. Truth is though, he’s known the kid long enough to know a down mood when he sees one. Something’s eating at him, beyond the slimers.

Knowing him? Probably something to do with Delsin. Lonnie’s only met the younger Rowe once, when he was still a baby, but if the gargoyle ever gets the chance he’s smacking the brat. He knows that Reggie loves his brother, but Delsin stresses the Nephalem out to no end. And hey, Lonnie knows he ain’t no saint, but his priority, his loyalty, goes to Reggie, and he don’t take kindly to anyone givin’ the Nephalem a hard time.

Lonnie sets the thought aside for the moment, intent to pry later as he joins Reggie in his bathroom. It’s themed similarly to his room, with a massive claw tub and a stone alcove for showering. He strips out of his clothes and watches out of the corner of his eye while the kid does the same. Well, ‘kid’ of course being just an affectionate term. The Nephalem might not have fully come into his powers yet, but he’s full grown, tall, broad, and sturdy. Dangerous in a way that makes the gargoyle swoon when he gets to watch, but soft under all the grumpy attitude and fiend fyre.

Lonnie watches him full-body stretch, wingtips brushing the ceiling, appreciating the way his muscles move under his skin, eyes traveling over every scar, every curve and hard line. Fuck, the things he wants to do to him, the things he has done to him. He’s fallen and fallen hard.

Reggie switches the shower on with an effortless flick of magic, stepping under the rainfall stream and fluffing his wings up, letting the hot water work the dirt and grime loose. Lonnie steps in with him, shivering at the pleasant heat. They both like the water as hot as it’ll go, neither worried about the temperature with both being fireproof and the gargoyle’s thick stone hide.

Lonnie grabs the soap and lathers his hands up, carefully but efficiently working the suds into the kid’s feathers while Reggie scrubs at his skin. It isn’t the first time he’s helped like this, and the gargoyle doubts it’ll be the last. Wings can be difficult to clean, especially feathered ones, and winged agents often ask for help from someone they trust. He’s still always pleasantly surprised that the one Reggie asks is him. He pulls out several broken and dull feathers, frowning as he preens the Nephalem’s wings. He’s noticed a decline the last several visits, noticed normally glossy feathers growing dull, especially after what happened in Seattle.

“How long ya stayin’ for?” he starts the conversation with something simple, hands still focused on their work. Just like sex, it’s easier to work the kid up to anything intense. Reggie looks over his shoulder at him and smiles “A few days. I told Delsin I was taking a last-minute camping trip with a friend.”

Good, means the gargoyle can take that time to help him relax. “How have things been with the runt?”

Reggie scoffs, his smile disappearing. “Well, he’s been better behaved since Seattle. I think part of that’s the whole conduit ambassador thing. We’ve gotten along better recently, but I dunno I’m just…” he pauses, searching for the word. “Jealous? I guess?”

Lonnie tilts his head curiously “Jealous how?”

The kid sighs, his wings drooping again, feathers hitting the wet floor “He doesn’t have to hide.”

“That why you ain’t been takin’ care of your wings?” Lonnie asks, keeping his voice casual, despite the rage rolling in his belly. The seal is something they’ve talked about before, on several occasions. When Reggie’s inhuman traits are locked away behind a wall of magic, rather than a simple glamour like most non-humans who live in the human world. The kid had hated the reminders of his supernatural parentage at first, but Lonnie and others had done a lot of work to help him come to terms with things and learn to accept them.

Now? They had the opposite problem. Reggie hates it when Lonnie sees him with the seal intact, when he looks completely human. Not that the gargoyle gives a fuck. He loves the kid for all of him, finds his human parts just as attractive as the non. But he can tell, when he does see him, how off-kilter the Nephalem feels. And Lonnie can sympathize. Going from having a thirty-foot wingspan to having nothing is difficult, and gods only know how different sounds are without the marble horns rising from his hair. And don’t even get him started on the tail.  

It's not fair that his human brother has never had to live with it. Sure, the kid’s a conduit, and he gets his share of shit for that, but he’s never had to hide being one.

“What’s the point? Nobody gets to see them.” Reggie’s voice is sullen, and Lonnie’s tail lashes in agitation. He spins the Nephalem around to face him “So, Ise a nobody now, hm?”

Reggie drops his gaze, red tinting his cheeks “That’s not what I meant, Lonnie.”

“Sure as shit sounded like it,” the gargoyle growls. His anger isn’t aimed at the kid though. No, it’s aimed at the shitty situation they’re stuck in, and Lonnie’s hands are tied. He hates feeling helpless.

“I just mean that I only get to have them maybe a few days every month, and it’s not like we’re exclusive… There are plenty of agents or creatures outside you could want.” The ‘ones who don’t have bound, dull wings’ is left unsaid, but Lonnie hears it all the same.

But… no. There aren’t. Truth is, Lonnie hasn’t had another partner besides Reggie since that first time. He won’t admit that to him though, the kid’s got enough on his plate without needing to stress about the gargoyle’s feelings. He’s perfect, even with the baggage. Lonnie would kill for him, die for him, and he ain’t about to let the kid badmouth himself. Not while Lonnie can do something about it.

“Kid, those few times a year that I get to spend with you are the ones I look forward to the most. Your wings are fucking beautiful, and it’d be a cryin’ shame to let ‘em go downhill. Sides, most female gargoyles are stone-cold bitches. They like control, and fuck if they aren’t exhausting,” Lonnie huffs, making Reggie’s lips quirk up into a tiny smile. He’s also completely serious. He’s tired of the constant battles for dominance. They don’t even make it fun, they’re deathly serious about it. Not saying that Reggie couldn’t be a demanding, needy little brat, but he liked feeling needed, liked being depended on, liked having the smaller Nephalem under him. Maybe it was his instincts talking, the desperate desire to protect. Not that the kid necessarily needs protecting, he’s fucking lethal, but Lonnie felt it all the same.

“You see my wings all the time though, they can’t be that impressive.”

Lonnie snorts “Yea, and humans see tits all the time and still want ‘em. I ain’t any different.” He tilts Reggie’s head up with the tip of his claw “You’re fucking gorgeous, doll.” The gargoyle leans in, placing a hand on the wall behind Reggie’s head, boxing the Nephalem in “You got no idea how often I wanna keep you in my bed and say fuck the rest of the goddamn world.” Lonnie can feel his throat bob against the gargoyle’s claw.

“And right now?”

“Right now, I wanna eat you alive.” The gargoyle’s voice drops an octave, to a gravelly growl. He’s pleased when he sees a shiver run through the Nephalem.

“Do you see me trying to stop you?” Reggie counters, heat flickering in his eyes.

Lonnie smirks, his tail curling behind the kid and pulling him against the gargoyle’s stone chest “Ohh you love playin’ with fire, don’t you, doll?”

The smirk that plays across the Nephalem’s lips makes his stony heart skip a beat. “Good thing I’m fireproof.”

Lonnie grips his thighs and hauls him up, pressing him against the stone wall. The Nephalem’s long legs wrap around him and smirks, his fangs going right for the kid’s throat. They sink in deep, and he’s rewarded with a deep, breathy moan as the salty tang of iron hits his tongue. His tongue glides over broken skin, the strong beat of Reggie’s pulse against his mouth more addicting than anything else. Anyone who thinks it’s only for vamps is kidding themselves. Holding the delicate thread of life between his teeth is a drug that he can’t get away from. Years ago, he wouldn’t have considered it, but now? Now Reggie has complete trust in him, and an immense healing factor to boot. Lonnie can give in to that urge if he wants to, to tear into that delicate skin and be gifted sounds that he’s never heard before.

Maybe it’s the monster in him, maybe it’s sadistic, but when the Nephalem begs for teeth and claws in his satin skin, who is Lonnie to deny him? Maybe they’re both damned. But if they burn, they burn together, and Lonnie will enjoy every minute of dancing in Reggie’s hellfire.

Delicate claws dig into his shoulders, a slender tail wrapping around his own while he leaves ragged bites all the way down the Nephalem’s shoulders. His own thick claws bury into the meat of Reggie’s thighs while he ruts against him. He can feel warmth drip down his arms while red mingles with the hot water, streaming down their skin and down the wall. Lonnie peeks up at the kid, chest filling with satisfaction at the sight of the euphoria on his face. His eyes are closed, tiny drops of water collecting on his lashes, moans dripping from his mouth like honey.

Lonnie studies him for a moment, committing the sight to memory. He wraps a heavy hand around both of their cocks, pumping slowly, watching his expression change and shivering with delight at the whimper he receives. He presses his mouth to Reggie’s, tongue tracing over the Nephalem’s fangs, swallowing every sound he makes when the gargoyle moves his hand faster. He loves making the kid fucking squirm, loves the whines he makes when he cums over Lonnie’s hand.

Despite how ridiculously hard the gargoyle still is, he stops after that, moving his hand back down to the kid’s thigh. Lonnie knows Reggie could go more rounds if he asked him to, but he can tell the Nephalem is exhausted. This round was just a distraction to help him sleep better, take his mind off home. Lonnie isn’t worried about himself right now.

He gently clicks their horns together, marveling in the contrast. Size, color, texture. They’re both very tactile creatures. Reggie tucks his head under the gargoyle’s chin, a quiet, rumbling purr emanating from his chest. The first time the kid had figured out that demons and half-demons purred, he’d been embarrassed as shit. Lonnie had thought it was hilarious and so fucking cute. Nowadays, he still only does it around Mesmyr and Lonnie, and on rare occasions the Chief.

The rumble is surprisingly soothing, especially when paired with the hot water running over his skin. They stay that way for a while, until eventually Lonnie leans back and peers down at the half-asleep Nephalem resting against his chest. “Cozy as this is, I think it’d be even better in bed.”

“You just want me in your bed,” Reggie quips sleepily, making Lonnie snort.

“Okay, true, but I also ain’t about to fall asleep in here and bust my ass. Again.”

Reggie snickers and Lonnie sets him down, turning off the water. They both step out and Lonnie mutters a spell, claws crackling, whisking away the water dripping down his stony skin. Towels are nice, but he goes through so many, and he doesn’t want to take the time required to dry himself. Reggie, on the other hand, lets his flames flare up, turning the water to steam. He fluffs his wings up, shaking any lingering droplets out, before resettling them, folding them neatly against his back.

Lonnie scoops the Nephalem into his arms, ignoring his protests as he walks into his bedroom with a cheeky grin on his face. “Ah shush, ya know ya like it.” Reggie glares at him, crossing his arms over his chest “I hate you.”

The gargoyle laughs and sets him down on the bed, climbing under the covers and pulling the kid into his side. “Whatever you say, doll. Whatever you say.”

000000

Two hours later, Lonnie lies awake, studying the roughly hewn stone of the ceiling, listening to the soft crackle in the fireplace and the quiet breathing of the sleeping Nephalem on his chest. He has no idea how the kid finds him comfortable to sleep on, but he discovered a while back that Reggie can sleep just about anywhere. Must be a skill he picked up in his human job. He runs a featherlight claw up the Nephalem’s spine and down the ridges of each horn before carefully tracing his features. He needs far less sleep than the Nephalem does, and sometimes it’s nice to lie awake and simply take him in. He seems so delicate compared to the gargoyle’s rocky granite features, though Lonnie knows better than to tell him that, unless he wants a kick to the stones.

A softly glowing scroll appears in his room, making him groan silently. It’s a summons, which normally means an agent needs information or can’t figure out how to use the library’s filing system. He glances down and swears. The kid looks so peaceful, but he’s the lightest sleeper Lonnie knows, and he hates to disturb him. He starts to slide out from under him, wincing when the Nephalem stirs, blinking up at him “Where you goin’?” Reggie mumbles sleepily, brow furrowing adorably. Fuck, why’s he gotta be cute? And why the fuck is Lonnie so whipped for this kid?

“Someone needs help in the library. I won’t be long. Go back to sleep, doll,” the gargoyle reassures him, kissing away the furrows in Reggie’s brow before meeting the Nephalem’s soft lips. He lets the kiss linger. Whoever needs him can wait a few more seconds.

Finally, he reluctantly pulls back, slipping out of the bed. He grabs a pair of pants and pulls them on, not bothering with a shirt. Someone deciding to disturb him right now doesn’t get that luxury. Besides, it’s not like he really needs one. He takes one last look at the Nephalem in his bed, already asleep again, black feathers draped over crimson sheets. Sighing, he turns and heads upstairs.

000000

He grumbles to himself as he makes his way back to his quarters three hours later. The agent who needed help had no idea what they were looking for, and it took far, far too long for them to figure it out, trying even his legendary patience. He had to work very hard not to say fuck it and return to his warm bed and even warmer ma- Nope. Not thinking that. There were lives at stake though if the agent didn’t find the information he needed, so Lonnie grudgingly stayed.

Now though, he has no one else that needs his help, and he puts a do not disturb notice on the Agency app so hopefully no one fucking bothers him for the next three days. Opening the door, he slips inside as quietly as he can, checking to see if Reggie is still asleep. The Nephalem is motionless in the bed, save for the slight rise and fall of his chest. Lonnie climbs up, taking care to avoid the feathered wings unfurled over his enormous bed. His room is one of the few places he knows Reggie can let his full wingspan out, and the kid takes advantage of it every time.

He runs a clawtip down one of the longest feathers, smiling when the wing flicks in response. Reggie rolls onto his side, both wings pulling in loosely against his back. Lonnie watches him for a moment, then scoots over so he’s pressed against the Nephalem’s back, running a hand down his side and leaning down to press open-mouthed kisses to his neck. A shudder runs through the wings trapped between his front and the kid’s back, dark lashes fluttering open as a quiet moan drips into Lonnie’s ears like syrup. He keeps his touch light, simply exploring for the time being, coaxing his smaller partner awake. He’ll admit he’s being a bit greedy, but he needs him, and Lonnie has no intention of leaving this bed for the next three days except to grab food, so they have plenty of time for sleep.

Reggie turns his head, blinking sleep from his eyes and giving Lonnie easier access to his throat, the wounds from earlier already gone. Which of course means the gargoyle absolutely intends to add more later. For now, he licks slowly up the Nephalem’s neck, tracing his tongue along the vein that lies just under supple skin and listening to breathy gasps and muted moans. He lightly scrapes his fangs over the hollow at the base of Reggie’s throat, claws trailing over his stomach.

“Lonniiie,” the quiet whine right next to his ear encourages him further and he rolls on top of the kid, propped up on his elbows, while Reggie lays on his back. The firelight plays across deep brown eyes, highlighting speckles of color. Lonnie could get lost in them if he wanted to. Reggie tilts his head when he notices that Lonnie’s paused “You okay?”

The gargoyle waves off his concern “Yea, just thinkin’ is all.”

The Nephalem has the audacity to smirk at him “Dangerous for you, isn’t it?”

“You’re a fucking riot,” Lonnie deadpans, making the Nephalem snicker. Most people thought that Lonnie was only good for his muscles, his monstrous appearance. But he’d been raised in a Monastery. Books, literature, languages, those were his passions. Fighting was simply a fun way to blow off steam. Reggie had been one of the first to not immediately take him for an idiot when they’d met, instead shyly asking for book recommendations in other languages.

Gods, how time flew. He’s pulled from his memories by a hand on his horn. “Hey, you in there?”

He shakes his head and blinks “Sorry, got lost in thought. Were youse sayin’ somethin’, doll?”

Reggie’s eyeing him with a calculated look. The kid is goddamn perceptive, which probably helps make him a good cop, but it also is immensely annoying at times. Lonnie doesn’t want to burden him with anything else. The Nephalem is here, in his room, naked in his bed, and Lonnie isn’t planning to waste that opportunity by admitting that he feels stupid sometimes. Not today, at least. For now, all he wants is to feel warm flesh against him, feel the Nephalem’s heat surrounding him.

He mentally shakes himself and ducks his head, nipping at Reggie’s collarbone, effectively drawing the kid’s focus away. He’s rock hard already, his cock pressed against Reggie’s thigh. He’s taking things slower than usual, wanting to savor the kid’s taste, his sounds, how his pliable body feels under the gargoyle’s bulk. It probably won’t stay slow like this, once they get going, but he’s enjoying it right now. The Nephalem squirms under him, making the prettiest noises while Lonnie’s claws tease every inch of him, scraping over muscle and bone.

Fuck. Fuck, he’s never wanted anybody the way he wants him. He leans down and runs his tongue up Reggie’s sternum, and the feel of his heartbeat against the gargoyle’s tongue makes Lonnie want to chain him to his bed and never let him leave, responsibilities be damned. It’s also making him horny as shit. He sits up, resting his weight on his heels rather than Reggie’s thighs, and sees the Nephalem’s eyes travel from his face to his cock. He sees the hunger there and knows it’s reflected in his own. He’s just deciding how he wants to take him this time.

“Lonnie?”

“Hm?” He tilts his head at the Nephalem, tail swishing idly against the sheets.

“Come here.”

Lonnie raises an eyebrow, but chooses to obey, hovering over Reggie on all fours “Whatsa matter doll?”

Reggie shakes his head “Oh, nothing. I was just wondering if you’d woken me up to tease me or fuck me. Cause if you’re not planning to fuck me, I think I’ll just go back to sleep.”

Lonnie’s brow darts up “Scuse me?”

The Nephalem props himself up on his elbows “Or maybe, I’ll just tease you in return.” A sharp retort is on the tip of Lonnie’s tongue when he spots the glint of mischief in Reggie’s eyes and pauses. The kid might need to be more serious and responsible at home, but anyone who thinks he doesn’t have his own brand of mischief has never had to deal with the aftermath.

This isn’t the first time he’s seen it, though it is the first time he’s seen it in the bedroom, and it sends a thrill through him.

“Ya think so, huh?” Lonnie challenges, and the smirk he gets back sends a shiver from his horns to his tail.

“Oh, I know so.” Something heavy clinks against Lonnie’s neck. He glances down, puzzled, and blinks in surprise at the sight of a holy chain around his neck. He goes to grab it, and finds both his wrists are bound too, attached to the stone walls of his room. The gargoyle’s jaw goes slack, and he looks down. The Nephalem’s smirk widens to a wolfish grin that shows off his fangs, eyes flashing gold, his tail flicking like the cat that caught the canary.

“Ohhh you’ve been practicing, haven’t ya?” Lonnie growls, tugging experimentally on the holy bindings. They hold fast, though he knows they’ll break with time.

“Mhmmm, so if you want me…” The kid trails off, hooking a finger under the chain around Lonnie’s neck and tugging him down so they’re eye to eye “You have to work for me.”

The gargoyle’s cock jumps and he bares his fangs at Reggie “Doll, when I get out of this shit, I’m gonna fuck you so hard you won’t remember your own name.”

The fucker has the audacity to smile at him “Promise?”

…gods preserve him, this kid is going to be the death of him. He also needs to remember to leave an offering to whichever one is responsible for blessing him with this little shit.

Reggie releases the chain and lays back down on the pillows, one arm behind his head. The other he waves lazily in the air, forcing the chains to yank tight, pulling Lonnie’s head back. Oh, he’s been learning. The Nephalem pushes the bedding covering his lower half down and wraps his free hand around himself, locking eyes with the gargoyle while he strokes himself slowly, making Lonnie’s mouth water.

Reggie moans, tossing his head back and arching off the bed. Lonnie’s eyes hungrily trace over the expanse of soft skin. The kid knows what he likes, knows exactly what he’s doing to him, knows what kind of reaction he’s going to get from him. He’s doing this on purpose. Which tells Lonnie he wants it.

The kid is driving him crazy, and as soon as he gets his hands on him, he’s going to sorely regret poking the bear like this. Lonnie yanks and struggles, pulling hard on the holy bindings, the sear of holy fire only making his desire grow. His tail lashes wildly behind him and watching the Nephalem in his bed lazily playing with himself is driving the gargoyle into a frenzy. His fangs and claws ache with the need to tear into warm flesh, his cock painfully hard, wanting nothing more than to be buried into that sweet heat. Lonnie wants to devour him.

There’s a sound like shattering glass, and Lonnie manages to get a hand free, wrapping it around Reggie’s ankle and yanking him close. He digs his claws into Reggie's hip and rakes them up to his knee, leaving crimson furrows behind and making the Nephalem cum with a moan that makes Lonnie hungrier than ever. 

Their eyes lock again, and Lonnie watches, entranced, as the kid brings his cum covered hand up, licking it clean and swallowing.

That does the trick.

Lonnie snaps the rest of the chains with a low growl and pounces, fangs and claws digging into warm flesh and drawing luscious crimson to the surface. The cries that echo in his ears are a perfect blend of pleasure and pain while hot iron blooms across his tongue. 

It's not enough. He wants to sink into fiery rapture, he wants the Nephalem to be his.

Tail lashing, he has just enough presence of mind left to cap his claws with a spell before pushing them deep into the gorgeous, bloodied creature beneath him, feeling a vicious sense of satisfaction when delicate claws sink into his strong hide, paired with a hiss between clenched fangs. He kisses the sound away, reveling in the way the Nephalem's lips look when painted red. 

The velvety heat around his claws drives him mad, and he desperately wants to say fuck it and wrap himself in it now. But there's a fine line between good pain, and cruelty, and while he wants to chase his own pleasure, knows the Nephalem wouldn't protest, that's a line he won't cross, frenzied though he may be. 

Now, that doesn't mean he isn't impatient, and probably could've prepped longer before flipping the Nephalem over, wrapping a large hand around his horns and pressing his face into the sheets before Lonnie drives his cock deep, pulling sounds from the Nephalem he's rarely heard. They spur him on as he leans over his smaller partner, pounding him into the bed.

Fuck. It's so, so good. He pulls on the horn on his hand, drawing the Nephalem's head back and nearly bending him in half before sinking his fangs into the wing in front of him, drawing a shriek. His hand wraps around the base of the Nephalem's thrashing tail, tugging and teasing. He's never heard anything prettier than the sounds dripping from the Nephalem's parted lips, never seen anything more beautiful than crimson-coated skin bowed beneath him. He moves his hand from around one alabaster horn and wraps it around the Nephalem's throat. He wants to feel those sounds, every one seared into his mind for eternity. Pressing his broad chest against wings the color of pitch, he nudges strong thighs further apart, thrusting harder. 

He teeters on the edge, on the brink of euphoria, can feel it prick the edges of his sanity. He chases that feeling, giving in to everything he’s wanted to do to the inhuman creature who has his heart wrapped in hellfire and ebony wings. 

His orgasm hits him like a train to the stomach, like a shower of sparks raining over his granite skin, leaving him gasping, his face pressed between dark feathers, his twitching cock sunk deep.

Lonnie catches his breath, slowly coming back to himself, before looking down at the bloodied Nephalem, concerned he went too far. 

He pulls out, gently shushing the quiet whine he gets in return, and lays the kid on his side. He goes to get off the bed but is stopped by a slender tail wrapping around his wrist. 

“Don't leave,” Reggie pouts at him. Lonnie leans over and kisses his jaw “Just going to grab something to clean up with, okay?” 

“We can clean up later, get your tail back in bed.” 

Lonnie snorts, shaking his head in disbelief. “First of all, you're fucking insatiable. Second, youse say that now, but I know you, doll. In an hour you'll be complaining.” Reggie slips his tail back with a huff. 

Lonnie takes only a couple seconds to grab a washcloth from his bathroom, returning to the bed and carefully, methodically wiping the kid’s skin clean, taking care around the ragged bites and torn skin, peppering the Nephalem with kisses and smiling at the resulting purr. “Sorry, I know I went a little overboard.” 

Reggie raises an eyebrow at him “Lonnie, you didn't do anything I didn't want you to do. And you and I both know that if I told you to stop, you would have. Plus, at this point, I'm more than capable of stopping you myself.” 

That much is true. And normally he wouldn't think twice about it. He's seen the Nephalem bounce back from worse. 

But he cares about him, so maybe he's always a little worried about what Reggie thinks of him. He's put in decades of work to leave the monster behind. 

A light tug on his horn pulls him out of his thoughts. Reggie tilts his head at him and smiles “You wanna stay lost in thought? Or can I send a search party? I'd like to go back to sleep, but I'm not doing so without gargoyle cuddles.”

Lonnie laughs and pulls him to his chest, wrapping leathery wings around them both. Reggie settles against his chest, closing his eyes and purring. Lonnie lightly runs a hand over the Nephalem's horns, his worries soothed for now. 

The things he does for this kid.

Chapter Text

Reggie’s POV

“I wish you’d died instead!”

Yea, me too…

Reggie tries to focus on the road, and not the painful, ragged ache in his chest. The hole where his family used to be, torn open by his parents’ deaths, made wider by his brother’s sharp, biting words. He shakes his head to clear it, glancing around for the faint glimmer that marks the edge of wards. Even with the seal intact, his magic sight remains. He parks his dad’s beat up old truck just within the ward’s boundary and gets out, closing the door behind him. He takes a deep, steadying breath and steps over the boundary. It tingles faintly against his skin. He glances down at his hand, the red, glowing seal pulsing gently as he tries to tug on his magic. His arm begins to burn, as though he’d stuck his hand on a hot stove. He grits his teeth and pushes through “Show yourself.”

It finally becomes too much and he has to cut the connection, pulling his arm to his chest with a hiss. The woods around him are silent, and his shoulders droop. It didn’t work. He turns, preparing to go back into the wards, when a chill runs down his spine, the hair rising on the back of his neck.

“You rang?”

Reggie whips around, tensing. The man standing behind him raises a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. He reminds Reggie of a snake. Long, lean, unnaturally beautiful, with smooth, perfectly tanned skin, raven-black hair that falls in waves, and brilliant orange eyes that smolder in the dark. 

Ruby red lips curve into a smile, showing off pearly white fangs “Ohhh, now this is a surprise. I must say, after all the years that Mercury has spent keeping you from me, I didn't expect you to simply walk out and summon me yourself.” A current of malice and malevolence lurks beneath his velvety tone. He takes a step closer, a perfectly manicured claw tilting Reggie’s chin up, black wings rising. Reggie tried to ignore how much they look like his own, tucked away beneath the seal “Have you finally gotten tired of toying with the wrong side?*

 Reggie swallows “No. That's not why I asked you here.”

Morningstar’s fiery eyes narrow, a calculated look taking over his face. “Oh? Do explain then, little Nephalem. I'm a busy devil, though I'll always make time for you.”

“I want you to kill me.” 

The Devil pauses, obviously not expecting that answer. He tilts his head to the side, the moonlight reflecting off his ebony horns. “Why?”

“Because I'm tired. Tired of expectations, tired of both sides hating me, and tired of-” he cuts himself off before he says anything about Delsin. He isn't sure if Morningstar is aware of his little brother's existence, but he refuses to be the one to give him away. Especially if the Nephalem won't be around to protect him anymore “I don’t want to fight you, but I’m never going to join you, either. And the Agency will never let me just die. So please, get it over with.”

Morningstar studies him silently for a long moment. Finally, he picks up Reggie’s hand. The seal vanishes with a breath, and Reggie stiffens. Did he want to be able to say he’d killed the Nephalem in his full form? Or was something else going on? The Devil smiles “Now why on Earth would I destroy something as beautiful as you?” 

…huh?

Sensing Reggie’s confusion, Morningstar continues “You say you will never join me. That may very well be true, for a few millennia. But I am a patient creature. I play the long game, little one. One day, when the last of your allies, the last of your beloved tribe, the last of your family, are gone, you will find yourself alone. The new generation of heroes will turn on you, and you will become tired of proving that you are not the enemy. You will fall to the shadows, as I did. We are the same, you and I. I was an angel once too, I believed in my Father’s lies. One day, you will see the truth, and you will come to me, all on your own.” 

Wings the color of a starless night wrap around Reggie, blending into his own, and the Devil leans in close, smirking “You can’t die yet, little Nephalem. I won’t allow it. I made a mistake killing the last one and acted far too hastily. I will not make that same mistake this time.” 

The last one… Her. The other Nephalem. Why… Why would Morningstar admit he made a mistake? 

“Just remember, one day, when the stars cease, and the final light goes out, darkness will remain. It will be all that remains. Darkness… and the two of us” he croons softly, stroking Reggie’s cheek. The Nephalem is frozen in place. He can’t move, he can’t think, he can’t breathe. He’s too afraid. 

An eternity, spent with the Devil?

Morningstar takes a step back, his hand dropping from Reggie’s cheek “If you ever have need of me, or want to talk about the things that the Agency won’t tell you, use this.” He hands Reggie a runestone. A snake is carved into the front, and it feels oddly warm. And then the Devil simply turns and walks away, waving over his shoulder “Ta-ta, little Nephalem.” 

Reggie watches him go, the stone clutched tightly in his hand. He looks down at it, the urge to throw it weighing heavy on his mind. He should throw it away. Far, far away. Or give it to Director Mercury to dispose of. 

He does neither. 

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Lonnie’s POV 

The gargoyle hums along to the quiet music filling the library, glasses perched on his nose. He’s working on transcribing a few manuscripts for the Chief, and while he could use magic to make the work go faster, there’s something therapeutic about calligraphy. He occasionally glances at the clock over his desk, tail twitching with anticipation. 

Normally, Reggie comes in for a couple days every few months for training or missions with Mesmyr. He and Lonnie don’t always get time together during those visits, and the gargoyle makes do with texts and emails from the Nephalem in the meantime. The Chief had not been happy that Lonnie had been using his tablet to contact a number outside the Agency network, but Grecko, the goblin in charge of the tech department, had reassured him that it was properly warded to avoid detection.

And seriously, the kid needed someone to talk to. Mesmyr talked to Reggie too, of course, once Grecko had checked his tablet as well, but texting the angel was like texting a parent. Lonnie was probably the only one in the Agency who really understood what the kid was going through, was someone he could vent to without feeling judged.

Lonnie knows that he’s struggling after Parker and Roxie died two years ago. Kid worked too hard, even with the gargoyle moving money from his own account every month. Course, part of that’s due to the little shithead brother constantly getting into trouble and needing bailed out or needing fines paid. After he’d finished his sentence years ago, he’d started making a decent wage working as the Agency’s librarian, and that wasn’t even including the shit he’d hoarded over the years. If there was any way that he could remove some of the burden off the Nephalem’s shoulders, he’d do it.

Which brings him to today. He’d been amazed when Reggie had texted him the day before to let him know he’d be coming for a visit and asking the gargoyle if he’d be free to spend time with him. Fuck, it didn’t matter if Lonnie did have anything planned, he’d cancel all of it in a heartbeat. It struck him as odd though, because this wasn’t one of Reggie’s planned visits. On the bright side, that meant he could hoard the Nephalem all to himself again. Gods only know how badly the kid needs a break.

Not long after, he hears the soft hum of a door being opened. He turns just in time to see Reggie step through the glowing green rectangle. It disappears in a soft shimmer, and the Nephalem waves at him “Hey Lon.”

Lonnie’s known the kid long enough to immediately pick up on the fact that something is wrong. “Hey kid, how’s it going?” His glasses disappear into the ether as he gets to his feet.

“It’s going.”

Lonnie raises a brow ridge at him. Kid had mentioned an argument with Delsin a few days ago, and the gargoyle is starting to wonder if it had a bigger effect then Reggie originally let on. “You wanna tell me what’s goin’ on under those horns?” He reaches out and taps the tip of one of Reggie’s pale horns, smirking.

The Nephalem lightly swats at his hand, sighing “Not particularly. I was actually hoping to stretch my wings, if you want to join me.”

“Course, you know Ise always got time for ya, kid,” he replies with a smile, letting Reggie lead the way. Once the kid turns, Lonnie’s smile flips to a concerned frown. Only two days ago, the Nephalem had mentioned how exhausted he was. Lonnie’s chalking it up to nervous energy for now, needing to get it out of his system before the kid can relax.

The kid chooses one of the training rooms particularly meant for flying practice, with high ceilings and ledges everywhere. A quick stop in the locker room to change into workout clothes, and they’re ready, though Lonnie is a little surprised that Reggie didn’t pick the arena to fly in. He knows for a fact that no one is using it right now, and it offers far more space for sustained flight.

Eh, he’ll ask later. “So, you got a plan in mind already?” Lonnie asks, stretching his wings out before draping them over his shoulders.

“Yea,” Reggie taps one of the magic control panels on the wall, eight glowing, floating orbs appearing in the room.

“Ah, that’s a fun one,” Lonnie tells him with a grin. It’s a familiar, albeit challenging game, one that the Nephalem normally plays with Mesmyr. Trying it with other winged partners is a great way to shake things up. The object is for one of them to chase the other while both avoid the orbs. The system automatically records the scores, and whoever gets hit the least by the end of time is the winner.

“How long we going for? And are you chasin’, or me?” Lonnie asks, watching the kid stretch his own wings out, feathers fluffing up before resettling neatly.

“Twenty-minute timer, you’re it,” Reggie answers, inadvertently causing a zing to go up Lonnie’s spine. He might be a civilized creature, but he can’t deny the primal thrill that comes with this particular game.

“Gonna give you a workout, kid, you prepared?”

His question is met with a scoff and a smirk “Try and keep up, Stone Age.”

“Oh, you little-” He lunges at the Nephalem who quickly spreads his wings and takes off, landing on a ledge above them with two strong wingbeats. Lonnie growls up at him, leaping off the floor, leathery wings snapping open as he gives chase. Reggie dives off the ledge, narrowly avoiding one of the orbs, pulling his wings in close to pass between another orb and a ledge with only inches to spare before soaring towards the ceiling. Lonnie prefers to hop and glide, his own wings not quite made for sustained flight, especially with how heavy he is. It makes the game far more interesting that way, too.

The longer they play, the more certain Lonnie is that something is on the kid’s mind. Their usual banter is missing, and the kid’s taken some easy hits that normally wouldn’t get within five feet of him. The gargoyle winces in sympathy when one of the orbs hits the base of Reggie’s wings and he crashes into one of the ledges, scrambling to hold onto it. The orbs hurt like a bitch, numbing the area they hit for a decent amount of time. Lonnie jumps, managing to catch the kid right as his grip fails. They crash to the floor, Lonnie managing to maneuver so he lands on the bottom. They lay there for a second, panting, before Lonnie rolls them over so he’s on top, frowning down at the Nephalem. “Okay, spill it. Something’s eatin’ at ya.”

Reggie sighs, letting his head fall back onto the floor with a thunk, frowning at a point over Lonnie’s shoulder “Delsin and I got into a fight, a bad one… He fucking hates me, wishes Mom and Dad were here instead, and I can’t really blame him.”

Lonnie swears, if he ever meets the brat, he’s going to shake him till his head pops off.

“And… I think I made a mistake,” the kid says softly, his tail flicking anxiously against Lonnie’s side. The gargoyle’s frown deepens, eyes narrowing “What kind of mistake? Youse know you ain’t gotta worry about tellin’ me. I’m the last person who’s gonna judge you.”

Brown eyes turn to meet his gaze, filled with apprehension and fear “Promise me you won’t tell the Chief.”

Lonnie blinks at him. What could the kid have done that could possibly be that bad? …okay, there were a few things, but none of them ones that Lonnie cared about. Besides, he wasn’t about to rat out Reggie to anyone. The gargoyle’s loyalty will always go to the Nephalem, first and foremost. “Okay, promise.”

“…I talked to Morningstar.”

Lonnie stares at the kid in a mix of disbelief and horror “You did WHAT? The fuck’s the matter with you?! What the fuck were youse thinkin’?!” Of all the stupid, hare-brained-

“I asked him to kill me.”

The gargoyle goes still as stone.

Reggie isn’t looking at him, his head turned to the side. “I couldn’t take it anymore. Everyone’s afraid. Either they're afraid of me, or afraid that I won't be enough. And Morningstar… wouldn't do it. He said that me joining him is an inevitability, and he’s fine with waiting for it to happen.”

Shit. Shit! Lonnie fucking told them something like this would happen if they left the kid to fend for himself. They were so adamant about keeping Delsin in the dark and respecting Parker and Roxie’s wishes that they’d given the kid an ultimatum. Stay with his brother and live like a normal human, without their aid, or give Delsin to Betty and be removed from his memory to live safely in the Agency. Lonnie knew that in the end, it had never been a choice. Reggie would always choose Delsin. With Sheriff Miller and other Agency members in town, they’d thought it would be enough to keep an eye on him.

Instead, the kid’s so beat down that a cruel comment from his little brother was enough to push him over the edge, to seek out their worst enemy, to seek his own death. Lonnie’s not even sure who to direct his rage at right now. But it sure as shit won’t be the Nephalem beneath him. No, he’s going to do everything he can over the next three days to make sure the kid feels better. The gargoyle knows he can’t fix everything, and that it won’t magically be better in one day, but now that he knows there’s a problem, he and Mesmyr can work together to fix it.

“I’m sorry.” The whispered apology pulls Lonnie from his thoughts. He refocuses his attention on Reggie, who still won’t look at him “I know it was stupid, but I’m so tired of this shit.”

Lonnie sighs heavily “Ain’t your fault, kid, and youse ain’t gotta apologize to me. You got dealt a shit hand, and they keep changing the rules of the game on ya. Frankly, I’m surprised you made it this long without losing your shit.” He’s not sure whether to be grateful or worried that the kid didn’t turn his pain outward like Lonnie himself did. He never wanted to see the kid turn into someone like him. It’s a hard road to turn away from. And he doubts Reggie would be given the same mercy when the Agency caught up to him.

He hates feeling like his hands are tied. All he wants is to be able to protect him. But Lonnie can’t protect Reggie from Morningstar; the Devil is far too strong for any of them to face. He’ll be damned though if he lets the son-of-a-bitch have another chance to get within a thousand miles of the kid.

And for now, at least he can try to protect the Nephalem from himself. He leans down, nuzzling the kid’s throat, claws slipping under fabric to lightly tease over warm skin. The resulting quiet moan makes him smile, nibbling gently at the spot where neck and shoulder meet. A hand wraps loosely around his horn while he moves his other hand to the base of Reggie’s tail, claws curling around it and giving it a teasing tug, earning a gasp in return. Two years ago, he wouldn’t have even considered initiating anything with the Nephalem outside of his room. Now? A simple locking spell murmured against velvety skin ensures they won’t be disturbed.

He can feel the thrum of a racing heart under his tongue, lips moving across exposed collarbone. He wants to taste, touch, feel every inch of him. He wants to take him apart, slowly, and put him back together. He wants to unravel him, chase away every thought in the kid’s head.

He decides then that there are too many fucking clothes between him and his smaller partner. “Think you can strip for me, doll?”

With a silent nod, the Nephalem does as Lonnie requested, soon lying bare beneath the gargoyle, who eagerly dives back in to explore newly exposed skin, lips pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses to the kid’s sternum, venturing downwards. Lonnie continues to tease and tug at the base of Reggie’s slim tail, making him whimper and squirm. Fuck, those sounds are addicting. The gargoyle’s rock-hard length strains at the magically enhanced fabric of his shorts, and while he wants so fucking badly to bury every inch of his cock into the Nephalem’s heat, he holds off. His focus right now isn’t on himself.

His fangs lightly graze over Reggie’s hip bones, making him jerk, gasping, his hand going back to Lonnie’s horn, gripping it tightly. Lonnie smirks, keeping his touch light as he trails his free hand down the kid’s side, down his thigh, stopping at his knee. Lonnie places the Nephalem’s leg over his shoulder and ducks down, the tip of his tongue traveling slowly up the velvety skin of Reggie’s cock, making him moan loudly, dainty claws digging into the gargoyle’s horn, his wings fluttering against the floor.

Wrapping his lips around just the head, Lonnie watches the kid’s face while he slowly presses a slicked-up, dulled claw into him. His eyes are squeezed shut as he pulls in ragged breaths, his teeth clamped down on the hand that isn’t wrapped around Lonnie’s horn, muffling the sounds he’s making.

Can’t have that.

The gargoyle’s tail wraps around Reggie’s wrist, pulling his hand away from his mouth. The kid puts up a little bit of a struggle, tugging against the tail. Lonnie pulls off and presses a kiss to his belly, glowing yellow eyes meeting rich brown “It’s okay, doll. You don’t gotta hide those sounds from me. I want to hear them.”

“Sorry,” Reggie murmurs.

Lonnie places another kiss on his hip, gives another teasing tug on his tail. “Don’t be, doll. Just relax. I gotcha, okay?”

Slowly, Reggie relaxes, running his claws along the tail holding his wrist and making Lonnie shiver. The kid’s gotten bolder over the past two years, more comfortable with sex, but there are some things that the gargoyle knows will take years to work out of his head.

 Satisfied that the Nephalem’s been properly reassured, Lonnie ducks back down, once again taking Reggie’s cock into his mouth, working his way down slowly. He could take it all the way down in one go if he wanted, but right now he wants to take things slow, tease him to the edge. 

The litany of needy whimpers and moans are music to the gargoyle’s ears. He adds a second claw, working the kid open with a pace that's driving them both insane, swallowing around the cock in his throat. He feels Reggie roll his hips, the delicate claws gripping his horn digging deeper. 

“Lonniiie.” The long, drawn-out whine sends a jolt of desire straight to the gargoyle’s painfully hard cock. The amount of self-control it’s taking to not pounce on him is fucking maddening. But luckily, he’s had several centuries worth of practice, and hearing his own name spilling from those pretty lips is the best kind of poetry. 

The stuttering, breathy gasps clue Lonnie in that the kid’s close. Smirking internally, he pulls back, licking his lips and withdrawing his claws. Reggie’s eyes snap open and the pleading look he gives the gargoyle makes Lonnie want to give in, to take him now and fuck him senseless. “Sorry doll, can’t let ya cum just yet,” he purrs, leaning down and sucking a bruise onto the Nephalem’s neck, running a teasing claw down his wing joint. Gods, how much he loves marking that soft skin, painting it purple and red with his mouth, his claws, a finished canvas only he gets to see. 

 “You’re fucking evil,” Reggie moans, closing his eyes again, his tail swishing against Lonnie’s leg, brushing against the gargoyle’s clothed cock and making him shiver. 

“Oh trust me kid, you ain’t seen nothin’ yet,” Lonnie growls against his throat, making the kid gulp. The gargoyle shifts down again, further this time, pulling Reggie’s leg over his shoulder once more. Sharp claws grip the Nephalem’s hips, lifting enough for Lonnie to drop his head and graze his fangs over the base of Reggie’s tail. The end of it wraps around Lonnie’s wrist as a deliciously choked moan reaches the gargoyle’s ears, the kid’s heel digging into his back. He takes his time, tongue and teeth exploring the delicately armored tail, a pleasant contrast to the gargoyle’s own thicker, rougher tail, currently held in a death grip by the noisy Nephalem. When Lonnie’s tongue finally delves deep into him, the kid’s hips jerk, his foot hitting the gargoyle’s wing as his back arches off the floor.

“FUCK!”

Ohhh, Lonnie could get used to that scream. A satisfied smirk settles on his face as he feasts contentedly. He pulls the Nephalem to the edge again, letting him teeter there for a moment before cruelly dragging him back, removing his tongue and sitting up once again, ignoring the whine of protest he gets. He tilts his head, feigning nonchalance. “Youse want me to stop here?”

Reggie shakes his head quickly, wide-eyed “Don’t stop, please!” 

Lonnie scoops the Nephalem up, kissing him lightly “Since you asked so politely…” he trails off, a glowing door appearing. He steps into his room, laying Reggie down on the bed and stripping his shorts off. He climbs onto the bed, hovering over him, admiring how much he’s managed to unravel the kid already, the pretty Nephalem panting with flushed cheeks, shaking wings, and trembling thighs. 

Pushing said thighs apart, he presses two claws back into him, sinking in past the first knuckle, watching his eyes go hazy, lips parted in a moan. Gods, Lonnie could stare at him all day and never grow tired of the sight. Adding a third claw, he makes sure the Nephalem is sufficiently stretched, his other hand slicking up his achingly stiff cock as he presses his lips to Reggie’s pulse point. It's the gargoyle’s favorite spot, something both oddly comforting and infinitely arousing about feeling the strong, steady heartbeat beneath his lips. It reminds him that the Nephalem is here, alive, safe. 

 And begging so beautifully for him. His mouth travels up Reggie’s neck, capturing his lips and swallowing the sweet sounds he makes when Lonnie withdraws his claws and presses deep into his heat. 

Fuck, the kid’s so warm, and so fucking tight. Lonnie rolls his hips languidly, nipping at Reggie’s shoulder and twining their tails together. He feels fucking incredible, and Lonnie will never get tired of being sunk so deep into him. 

Luckily, being so focused on the kid means he picks up on the exact moment that the whimper changes, accompanied by a hard swallow. Lonnie props himself up on an elbow, curiosity turning to concern when he sees Reggie’s arms covering his face, hears the quiet sound of a sniffle. 

Full stop.

Leaning on his elbow, he uses his other hand to gently but firmly pull the Nephalem’s arms down, revealing teary brown eyes. “Youse okay?” he asks softly, cradling his face, thumb running over his cheek. 

“I’m sorry, I don’t-” Reggie swallows again, scrubbing at his face. “I have no idea what’s fucking wrong with me.”

This was exactly the thing Lonnie had been aiming for though, so he’s glad it worked. “You’re dealing with a lot, kid, and letting it out this way, with someone you trust, is a lot more healthy than running off to talk to Morningstar. And youse know, ya never have to apologize to me for bein’ yourself.” 

“Yea but sobbing like I’m fucking five in the middle of-” his voice cracks, and he cuts himself off, his face crumpling. 

Lonnie wraps him up in his arms, taking care not to crush his wings, kissing his neck, his jaw, his shoulders “Lot more normal than ya think. Hormones are weird. Don’t feel bad about it, okay? I gotcha, always.” Reggie nods silently against his chest. 

“You want me to stop?” 

A head-shake. 

He starts moving again, setting the same slow, rolling pace, holding the Nephalem close. The gargoyle slips a hand between them, wrapping it around Reggie’s cock and stroking him in pace with his thrusts. Quiet, gasping sobs eventually give way to moans as the Nephalem arches under him. 

“Fuck, fuck, Fuck!” Reggie groans, eyes squeezed shut, tossing his head back on the pillow and cumming with a heavy shudder in Lonnie’s hand. The gargoyle bites back a moan of his own when the warmth surrounding his cock gets that much tighter. He waits for the Nephalem to relax again and pulls out as gently as he can. Reggie’s eyes flutter open again and he frowns up at Lonnie “Did you-” 

“Don’t worry about it” Lonnie shushes him gently, making the rare decision to use magic to clean up this time. He doesn’t want to have to let go of the kid right now. The gargoyle moves them both under the covers, the Nephalem cradled in his arms. 

“I feel bad now,” Reggie murmurs against his chest, already falling asleep. 

Lonnie snorts quietly “Doll, we got two more days we can have fun with if you want. And if not, it ain’t gonna kill me. Youse just gotta understand one thing though, kay?”

“Which is?”

Lonnie tips Reggie’s head up, an abnormally serious look on his face. “You ever talk to that bastard again, and I’ll tell the Chief and chain you to the bed.” 

“Don’t threaten me with a good time,” the Nephalem tries to joke, but Lonnie shakes his head “I’m serious, Reggie.”

The gargoyle never uses his name, so when the kid goes quiet, Lonnie knows it’s sinking in that he’s completely serious.  

“...okay.”

“Good.”

Lonnie stays up, studying him once the kid falls asleep. Kid’s playing with fire, the kind that can actually burn him. The gargoyle only hopes that Reggie trusts him enough to listen to him. 

Until then, all he can do is pray. 

And he stopped believing in the Gods a long time ago. 

Chapter Text

Reggie folds his wings neatly against his back, eyeing the small chapel tucked into the woods in upstate Washington. It’s older, with a gothic style reminiscent of Notre Dame. But the darkness that clings to the weathered stone is from more than the cloud-covered moon. 

Her presence is everywhere , tainting once holy grounds like blood in the water. A demoness under lust’s domain, if his senses serve him correctly. He scoffs quietly. Of course, they always go for the priests. 

Honestly, he’s kind of amazed that Mesmyr let him have this mission. Most everyone in the Agency avoids placing him anywhere near demons if they can help it. He understands why, it’s just also frustrating. 

The chapel is dark when he steps inside, not that that’s a problem for him. He stretches his senses a little and picks up a slow human heartbeat in one of the back rooms. Sleeping then. The lingering magic in the man’s mind clues him in that it’s an unnatural sleep. The demoness is sitting on the altar beneath the rosewood cross, shadows clinging to her like a second skin, invisible to human eyes.

He can see her perfectly. Petite, with curvy hips and slender horns rising from scarlet hair, her tail shorter than his own but thicker, curling and uncurling like a lazy cat.

She regards him with guarded curiosity. “You were not who I expected to come after me, little Nephalem.”

He rolls his eyes. “Please don’t call me that.” 

She disappears, the feeling of fingers teasing up his spine and over his wings not surprising him in the slightest. “Mmmm then what should I call you? How about little Devil?” 

He teleports away, crouching in the rafters and glaring down at her, his tail flicking with irritation even as his cock twitches with interest. “No.” 

She smirks up at him, brushing crimson tresses behind her ear. “Ohhh darling, let's not play pretend. You cannot lie to me. I am Alessia, I am lust given form. And unlike the fools that hold your leash, I see what you want. ”

“And what do I want?” She is dangerous, dangerous to talk to, dangerous to give any kind of headway, but…

He's dangerous too.

“To let go. You don't want to be fed, you want to feed. You came here knowing that you would face a demon, someone you wouldn't have to hold back against.” She spreads her hands, inky black tentacles dancing around her legs. “You want to give in .” 

Alessia's not wrong. As he's gotten older, it's harder to hold back the urges in his head, to constantly fight against the dark half of his nature, to ignore the constant buzz of desire that lingers under his skin. 

It's difficult to satiate demonic blood.

Somehow, he manages to push the thoughts away. “Are you planning to flirt or fight?”

“Why not both?” Something snakes around his wings and yanks. He yelps, crashing through a pew and hitting the concrete floor. Another tendril wraps around his leg and he's sent through the wall. Shaking the rubble from his feathers, a quick wingbeat puts him back inside the church. He charges the demoness, but her form flickers and she’s back on the altar, tentacles of shadow yanking him to the ground once more, sending more wood flying as he crashes into yet another pew.

Growling, he tears through the shadows and leaps for her again, forced to evade at the last second to avoid crashing into the altar when she teleports yet again. The chapel is too small to unfurl his wings fully, restricting what he can do. And demons like her are immune to his fiend fyre. More tendrils wrap around his wings and his arms, dragging him back and forcing him to his knees. She stands in front of him, the shadows withdrawing from her body, revealing expanses of pale skin marked by a myriad of runes and tattoos. Her eyes glow as those pretty lips curve into a smile, flashing dainty fangs. He can see her as she really is, and her true form is both alluring and disturbing. Who would’ve thought a demon could have a dimple? 

A claw runs up his throat. He’s hard as fuck, and the heel she grinds against the bulge in his jeans is not helping matters. She’s so close he can feel the heat radiating off her, the sweet scent of apples overwhelming his supernatural senses. There’s a thicker scent beneath it, something no human could pick up, the sickly sweet smell of sticky honey and rotten meat. It makes his mouth water. 

“Is that the best you can do, little Devil? Morningstar will be so disappointed,” she croons, wrapping delicate fingers around one of his horns. Her touch sends a thrill down his spine, and he barely manages to stifle a moan.

He can't use his chains right now, the connection to his holy powers tenuous at best, the urge to sink into sin drawing him further and further from the light. Fiend fyre won't hurt her, and though physically he outmatches her, her shadows are too strong to snap a second time. 

Which leaves him with one option. 

“Actually, I think he'll be elated .” 

Tapping into this power is wrong , but it's his , and it feels so right. 

Black flames flare around him, burning away her tentacles and making the demoness recoil in shock. Reggie lunges, wrapping a hand around her throat and another around her arm and slamming her to the ground, the stone floor cracking from the force. He bares his fangs at her, wings arching over his head. Fear flickers through her eyes, and then, to his surprise, she starts to laugh. “Ohh what a naughty boy . You’ve been speaking to someone you’re not supposed to, little Devil. Only Morningstar knows how to use hellfire. And I doubt anyone at the Agency has allowed you to practice such a gift.” 

He growls and tightens his grip around her throat, steam rising where his touch sears her skin. “I could kill you with it quite easily. The kind of death you can’t come back from.” 

“And I can drag the soul of that priest you came to save down with me,” she hisses back, their faces mere inches apart, breath mingling in the small space. “Or, we can make a deal, little Devil.”

“...what kind of deal?” 

Her eyes flick down and then back up, causing heat to rush to his face. Clothes don’t exactly stand up well to hellfire. “Allow me to satiate your desires, and I will release the priest from the bond I have made with him.” 

“Why? What’s in it for you?” The fact that he’s even considering her offer is foolish, but Reggie doesn’t care. It’s tempting, to not have to hold back, to let go of every inhibition he’s had about being with someone else. As much as he wants to with Lonnie, he’s terrified that he’ll scare him off, or somehow manage to hurt the practically invulnerable gargoyle. But he doesn’t care if he hurts the demoness, and she won’t care either, so maybe this is his chance to finally see what it’s like. 

…gods, maybe he is the monster everyone thinks he’s going to be. 

“Being able to say I bedded a Nephalem holds more weight in our world than you think. And feeding on your energy will be far more satisfying than any human I could feed from.” His loosening grip allows her to lift her head, plump lips grazing his ear. “I want to know what you taste like, little Devil.” 

Fuck it.

He teleports them both, hellfire cooling to simple fiend fyre as he bends her over the altar, sinking his fangs into her shoulder at the same moment that he thrusts deep into her wet heat, drawing a long moan from the succubus. Her more dextrous tail wraps around his, teasing and tugging, which just works to urge him on more. 

The cross on the altar is burning, but he hardly notices. 

His claws drag over her supple hips, making her whine, his other hand sure to leave bruises around her throat. The pace he sets is grueling, and with a Nephalem’s strength he would’ve injured a normal human woman at this point, but Alessia rocks her hips back to meet his thrusts, her ragged panting like music to his ears. Her slick drips down thick thighs, steam rising from where his flames lap hungrily at her body. Her silky folds envelop him so perfectly, blissfully tight every time he sinks deep into her. She pulls away, and he growls, about to yank her back, but she simply turns, gracefully raising herself onto the altar and spreading herself for him, beckoning with a single black claw. He goes willingly, claws digging into the meat of her plump ass, his other hand buried in her hair while he ruts against her, her breathy moans and gasps and praise snaking into his ear. 

His release builds and builds, and he only pauses briefly when he spills in her the first time. Reggie feels the brush against his mind and glowing eyes snap open, flames flaring again as he yanks her head back by her horn. “ Don’t even think about it, slut.” 

“Hmm such a good boy, staying on your guard,” Alessia purrs, not fazed in the slightest about getting caught. “Can you blame me for trying though?” Her claws drag down his wings, caressing the spot where they meet his broad back and making him shudder. “To have a Nephalem under my power would be exhilarating.” 

After his second release, he decides to try something different. He dips his head, painting her breasts and her neck with his lips and his teeth. Withdrawing from inside her, he kneels, nipping at her belly, her hips, leaving a trail right down to her dripping core, tongue diving deep. A hungry slurp makes her arch and bury her hand in his hair. “The mighty Nephalem, kneeling for a simple succubus like me? I never expected such adoration.” He bites her thigh in response, earning a hiss from her. Plunging his tongue back into her, he feasts greedily, honeyed nectar dripping down his chin. An idea comes to mind, and his hands burn as they press to her thighs. A scream, and her walls pulse around his tongue when she climaxes, her tendrils caressing his wings and he finds himself aching to be buried inside her again. 

When he goes to stand, the tendrils coil and yank, bringing him to the ground. His glare and flash of fangs is ignored, the demoness already straddling his hips, sinking onto his length, her hands braced against his chest. He tosses his head back with a groan, tail throwing up sparks where it lashes over stone. She rolls her hips, grinding down onto him before raising them and then engulfing his cock with her heat once more. 

“Fuck,” he hisses between gritted teeth, his wings fluttering against the concrete floor. He grips her hips tightly, his own rising to meet hers every time. Fangs sink into his neck, a choked moan spilling from his reddened lips at the same moment that he spills inside her for a third time. 

And yet he wants more.

His powers writhe beneath his skin, flames devouring each and every scrap of fuel they’re fed, and she is a kerosene-soaked oil well. Somewhere, deep within his mind, guilt is smothered by the inferno. Who can judge him, when his damnation was burned into his feathers from the beginning? 

Time loses meaning, and he loses track of how many times they’ve changed position, of how many times he’s drawn screams from her, hurt her, of how many times he’s filled her to the brim, each time wanting to fill her again. Desire burns less brightly than wrath, but for far longer. He feels no love for her, nor she for him, both merely a means to an end, a bargain upheld. 

And when finally they both lay spent upon the floor of the ruined chapel, it is the first time in his life that his mind feels so clear, so quiet, his lust slaked in pain and a succubus’ heat. 

Alessia is the first to rise, inky shadows giving her the illusion of modesty. “As agreed, I have freed him.” She tilts her head, an amused smile flitting across her face. “You know that Kyros will merely summon me again. My poor little toy cannot bear to be without my touch, my powers. And what’s more, I know about your little secret, sweet little Nephalem.”

Reggie looms over her in an instant, eyes flickering and flames licking at his wings. “Are you threatening me, Alessia?”

She smiles, running a hand up his chest. “No. I am extending an invitation, and perhaps next time we can share in the worship of my most devout follower. He is quite an obedient little thing, after all.” 

It’s sinful, how much the idea has his tail twitching with excitement. “So long as you don’t tell a soul, I’ll consider it.”

“We have a deal, little Devil.”