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Lust on the Wing

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Written by Arian Mabe (Amethyst Mare)

Commissioned by Mirath

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“I still don't know what to think about all...this..."

Donnie swallowed and traced his fingers, not for the first time, down the length of his brother's wings, feeling out the differences in the feathers, no two exactly the same. Sprawled across his bed – the bed that had been his, at least, in his lavish penthouse in the city – John smirked and rolled his eyes, hair fanned out across the pillow. Yet he was no angel there and far from it too, in fact, as he rested there, nude from head to toe, though both he and the strange kind of lover he'd found in his brother were more than comfortable with the situation at hand.

Stronger, more powerful than he had been, he yawned lazily and stretched, wings responding in kind as they extended on either side of him. It was more comfortable to let them spread out too, though they were not always present. It seemed that he could call and send them away at his whim and will, playing with demonic powers with the finesse of a child learning to walk, although it was said that that too was a steep learning curve and one that would come to light in how quickly he had to get to grips with everything. No longer was it a matter of life or death, of course, but more a matter of continuing on in the position and status that he had become accustomed to – and there was no way that John was going to fall again. The drop from life had been bad enough, not that he would ever admit that out loud, of course, and least of all to Donnie.

Donnie...

He looked down at his brother, Donnie's head on his chest. He looked so frail there, so innocent, and yet he was anything but that. He'd proven himself in his absence even if he thought he had done the exact opposite. Things were never quite that easy or that simple and that was just a fact of life sometimes. Or a face of death. His lips quirked up at his own joke but he smoothed away the smile, languishing in the moment. Moments held more importance to him now than they ever had before.

Yet Donnie was fretful, restless, shifting his weight, glancing up and then looking away again immediately, the white sheets crisp and fresh beneath them, as yet not slept on. Or nothing else either had been 'done' on them, so to speak.

“Strange to see you back here too..." Donnie murmured, shaking his head. “On this bed... Everything's different but it's the same too. It feels wrong."

John rolled his eyes. Too heavy for his liking.

“Well, I can piss off again if you like."

“Oh, shut up..."

Scowling, Donnie pulled away but was caught by a strong hand closing around his wrist, whipping out lightning-quick, the demon's reflexes far better than John's had been before... Well, just before. He wasn't willing to delve too deeply into what had happened then, though all he could say for himself was that simply having John there with him had dragged him out of the depths of a life that could have so very easily have gone south. And, for that, he would always be thankful that his own brother had, somehow, defied death, even if it was not through any course of love or the like.

“Let go."

John smirked.

“Make me."

But he couldn't and they both knew that, another little ploy and a game between them. John had always been the more dominant of the pair, even more so in the course of their relationship, yet things were to take a different turn as he brandished his demonic strength like something that had to be put on display. He bragged of it silently, Donnie cursing and yanking at his wrist, although any protest he put up was, of course, to no avail. He wasn't getting free and John laughed, exerting no effort at all in holding him there, powerless and helpless. Donnie growled, yet not even he could hide the shiver that ran through him, coursing down his spine, tingling through his extremities and parts of him that heated up too in response.

Damn him...

_ _

“Give up yet?"

John's grin widened, wings twitching ever so slightly but Donnie had a trick up his sleeve that he had not yet unleashed, closing the distance between them in a hasty breath and pressing his lips to John's. That was enough to get his brother to release his grip but, well, his hands only slid down to other parts of Donnie's body, memorising the muscle, the shape of him as if he thought he'd never get that again. His physical body was there and there to stay, as long as he had his demonic influence to play a hand in it all, but he still felt the loss of having a body keenly, the time in the afterlife when he'd had as little substance to him as a breath of air.

That hadn't been a good time. But better times were to be had with Donnie, cheating a death where he had no existence left in the mortal world. Death was death and he could do nothing about what had happened, even if they were yet to discuss his death and the events leading up to it, John pressing into the kiss and deepening it, losing himself even in that moment. Despite his immortality in the afterlife (to an extent, that was), it was those moments that had become more and more important to him over the course of time passing. He didn't have an answer for why though.

“I don't give up with you."

John could not have said quite when the kiss was broken, panting heavily, eyes desperate for something that only a human touch could provide. Demons were different, a different kind of creature entirely, and he needed Donnie, even if he would not admit it aloud. So many things were left unsaid between them and he sealed the words back behind yet another kiss, pulling Donnie over him, though there was no question as to who was really on top in their heated coming together.

Donnie moaned into John's mouth, grasping for him, clutching, his hands in his hair, running through and twisting strands between his fingers as if he was barely able to believe, still, that John was really there. It was strange but it was good and that was all it needed to be as his shaft rose to the occasion, throbbing up thick and full and hard against his brother's thigh.

Brother... Funny how a word like that could mean so much and so little at the same time. Sometimes he forgot that they were related, despite the bond between them that went from their days of birthing, of knowing and understanding each other as people. Every first had been theirs to share, even the ones that came more nefariously, and they had pushed on together, John leading the way in building a drug empire that would ensure that they and Charles too would be set up for life. That, in the world they had come from, meant more than either of them was willing to put words to.

Yet there was something more that John wanted, lust flaring up, wings struggling to rise – oh, how they wanted to flare! His body tensed and they reacted too, feathers shivering, horns growing on his head, losing control of his powers and taking on the entirety of his true form. He only hid the horns for he knew that Donnie didn't like them so much and had thought, somewhat, that giving him a little bit more of him as a demon each time they were together would at least allow him to get used to it. Whether or not his plan would work would only be told in time as Donnie gasped softly and drew back, eyes wary. He still knew that John was not the man he'd once been, as much as the two of them tried to deny it.

Yet he was still John and, maybe, that was enough.

Pushing past the moment, John boldly took charge, smirking and sitting up, although it was his wings that lifted him lightly from the bed, the mere push of his arms enough to send him airborne. Flapping, he poised there, only to land on his feet, Donnie grunting and following him, eager for something that the moment threatened to steal from him, his mouth watering. He could not be denied what made his heart pound and there was no better place to be than on his knees before one who was dominant over him, one soul forever under the hand and control of another.

John's hand grasped his hair – hard. He barely was aware of his moans as he leaned into it, mouth parted, John's shaft hardening, though he still took it between his lips lustfully for the sensuality of it all before it was ready for him. For once, it was Donnie's need that had come up first of all and Donnie hungrily took his cock deep, the thick flesh pressing over his tongue, driving for the back of his mouth but not quite reaching where he wanted it too. Confused, Donnie strove to push forward but John moved back, teasingly moving his hips away as a wing curled around, brushing his cheek and shoulder in a touch that brought a flutter to his heart in all the right ways.

“Did you think it was going to be that easy?"

Coldness settled in the pit of Donnie's stomach: a stark contrast to the heat coursing through the rest of him with the beat of his heart. What was that? What did he...

Yet he never got the chance to ask the question as an unseen wind whipped around him, bitterly cold and yet hot too at the same time, licking at his skin as if it was a wild beast that yearned to take a bite out of him, to take sustenance from his flesh. John's cock was the only real thing there for him as he suckled fiercely, clinging onto his shreds of reality even as John ripped the fabric of being around him, a dull roar resounding, bouncing off the walls, curtains whirling and flying, clattering along the rails. With what a demon could do, it was no wonder that people in times gone by had been accused and 'treated' for demonic possession, a book that John had never read but liked to keep around anyway flying from the bedside table in a sharp flap of anxious pages.

He didn't look up, cross-eyed as John loomed, seeming to tower even more than he usually did. It was hard for someone not to seem ominous when one was on their knees but his wings bracing against an infernal storm was all that Donnie needed for his heart to pound, dropping into his stomach and swelling back up again. Adrenaline was a fickle beast indeed and John was learning just how to play him, toying with the edges of boundaries that no one could have known existed before, well, demons came into play, opening what Donnie, even as that cock left his mouth, could only describe as a portal of some kind behind him.

“Oh, no..." John laughed, eyes darkening to a swirling, throbbing crimson, reminiscent of the depths of hell itself, as he drew back, standing tall. “Not that, not yet! I have something special for you!"

That may have once made Donnie's traitorous heart leap and turn over like a schoolboy with his first crush but even he knew that that meant something far darker than anything he was used to with the nuance of a demon looming over him. Yet what could he do to protest, to say that he wasn't ready for something more? He already was, moaning and trying to follow the path of John's cock even as he arched away from him, the roll of his hips tantalising, skin so very pale and yet pristine at the same time. He was pure and impure at the same time and, as a demon, he didn't need to be anything more or less than what he was, which was a beauty and simplicity in itself, regardless of the complications it came with.

He raised his hands, the portal opening up behind him, a mass of swirling, writhing grey and black and streaks of purple, the colours changing and shifting too swiftly for the human eye to discern the detail in the craze of it all. Donnie cursed and tried to scramble back but it was too late for the dizzying chaos to release his mind, eyes locked onto it even as his heart leapt in desire that, truly, should have come through as horror. He was a man, just a man, and not poised for a demon's wrath!

Yet all John had in mind for him, his silhouette gleaming with an edge of blue, like the last light of twilight sprinkled with early stars, was lust and there was no wrath to be had, bellowing with an ungodly roar that was merely for effect. He'd always been one for the dramatics but, of course, Donnie was too far gone in the moment to remember that as he covered his head, the boom that resounded through the room, which suddenly seemed too small and claustrophobic, the flash of light only registering in his mind afterwards, everything messed up and back to front. Nothing happened with demons as physics intended, although that was a fact that Donnie was still to learn as the portal retracted, sucking its tendrils back in from whirling wheel, drawing back and in until it sucked right back into itself with a sharp snap.

Moaning, Donnie clutched at his ears, his head pounding, though it was not a headache but something deeper. Something had changed, the very fabric and matter that made up the room shifting and closing around him, a pulsing wave that could not be contained through any other force. A sixth sense was something that everyone in the world joked about at some time or the other but Donnie swore up and down that he could sense the other demon before he saw him, the silence ringing loudly in his ears, not even a rustle from John's feathered wings giving the gig away in the slightest.

“Donnie..."

His brother's hand cupped his chin, lifting his head up, worry crossing John's gaze. The room returned to normal, at least in how it framed him, but the sense of wrongness could not be dispelled so easily, unease clawing its way into Donnie's guts and finding a twisting, cloying hold around his heart, chest tightening.

“Relax," John breathed. “This is different but you have to trust me, alright?"

It was just a moment, yet a moment of weakness that John could only show with a calculating air, due to who else was in the room with them. Every note of vulnerability in his forsaken soul could have been laid out bare to Donnie but others... Well, others had a stake in taking advantage of him, though he hadn't expected the drama of the portal to strike down a mortal soul quite so forcibly.

His fingers brushed Donnie's jaw, the tender stroke relaxing the lines of tension there, if only a little. He had to be careful, more careful. Donnie was more vulnerable than he was still.

“What a lovely moment..."

Yet the creature that bore the voice, for 'person' would have been the wrong word, clearly did not think it was a lovely moment at all as Donnie swayed up onto his knees, blinking rapidly, striving to clear his view of the room and how he perceived his clarity of it. But the being that John had brought forth from the rancid pits of the underworld (well, hell itself was open to interpretation, it had to be said) was not a creature that he could fix his gaze on in any sense of clarity at all.

The edges blurred and shifted as if the smaller, lesser, demon could not hold his form in the mortal world as solidly as John could. Yet he was still shaped like a man, even though John had been quite clear with him in saying that a demon was a demon and no longer a man. Where he had learned that lesson, Donnie was not sure that he was ready to know, but the other demon stood a little shorter than him, his face cut sharply as if he had, once upon a time, been handsome. Yet life and death were no fairytale, as closely as they were intertwined, and hell had drawn shadows in those handsome cuts of his face, the sharpness giving way from beauty to a dangerous kind of delight.

Some said that one could lose their soul from staring into a mirror for too long. Yet the demon's green eyes drank in his soul as he knelt there, Donnie's mouth agape and the only thing left rooting him in reality being John's hand closed on his shoulder. His legs braced, though that was just about the only reason that he didn't topple over right there and then, shock coursing through him, a dull, resounding roar that only existed in the fathoming of his own mind.

“You... You... You're..."

The words stuck in Donnie's mouth, the deadly-handsome demon smirking and brushing a hand back through his short hair, which curled around his small, straight horns as if it was oiled. Donnie didn't want to consider just how demons oiled their hair.

“Oh, can you talk then? And I thought you were going to gape at me all day! Or is that what you do to put his trap to use then?"

Posing, the demon cackled and rocked back on a heel, a leg struck out, though one's attention could not linger there forever. Like John, he boasted wings, but they were smaller and more leathery in how they appeared, spines laced down them from which a noisy membrane was attached, shifting and rustling with every little move of his body. His tail was slender and more draconian than demonic, drawing attention to the darker hue of his skin that rendered him shifting and wavering in shades of purple and grey, image changing with each breath that Donnie took.

Donnie, however, frowned, exchanging a look with John, though the demon had more to say, words streaming from his perfect, slim lips like a thousand lost souls poured away.

“C'mon then, mortal – what have you to say? Are you just the piece he keeps to do the dirty with back here? Though why anyone would come back to this hell hole is beyond me... The world is a dump! Choose death instead!"

Shooting John a look, the demon cackled, though it felt more staged than anything else. Even John rolled his eyes, not taking anything that the less powerful beast of the underworld had to say or do seriously. It was the way of it between demons of their kind, after all, and there would always be a power struggle, a wicked sense of saying anything and everything that came to their minds, taking charge and failing for a flurry of desperation. One kind of demon, or just one demon, would never remain in one sense of power forever but John had no intention of falling down the chain.

No... He'd only brought this measly soul, what he had left of his soul anyway, here for the mystery of pleasure.

“Is this what you're shacking up with?" The lesser demon smirked as he pressed on, eyeing up Donnie with a feral grin as his tail lashed. “And I thought you had better taste than this! Young demons always have trouble letting go of mortal coils."

Stiffening, John fixed him with a gaze that could have frozen flame, the other demon's jaw falling slack, fangs bared but hardly intimidating in such a moment that so swiftly devolved into frenzied stuttering. He should never have pushed John so far but, well, sometimes silence was all that a demon needed to talk themselves into a hole that, quite literally, could turn out to be worse than hell itself.

“'Scuse me, not what I meant," he fumbled for words, shifting his weight and looking anywhere but directly at John. “Sure you had a fine time here, back in the world of mortals..."

Yet there was nothing he could do to come back from such an error, Donnie but a voyeur to the power play between the demons. John's teeth parted but the sound that rasped from between them was most certainly nothing of the human world, an unholy hiss that crawled through his soul and nibbled at his heart, fangs pricking and sinking in for tiny, succulent mouthfuls of his life essence. He could only be glad, watching in morbid, rapt fascination, that John's wrath was not directed at him, although it seemed now that only a tiny shift in the set of his shoulders and the tilt of his chin was what was required to ward off a demon who was, by no means, any kind of threat to him.

“I can send you back as soon as I brought you here, if you're going to play that attitude with him."

The demon quailed, jaws clicking, but had no retort, eyes downcast even if his expression twisted into something ugly and sullen. Yet John was not finished, wings spreading to make himself seem taller, more dominant, than even he was in himself. Against himself, Donnie sucked in a short, sharp breath. He was stunning.

“If you want to be useful to me," John went on without further pause, his tone short and clipped, shards of ice laced through, “then you'll get on your knees."

It was yet another thing that 'should' have been wrong for Donnie to watch, the man that he was obsessed with (in both a healthy and an unhealthy fashion) grasping his cock, which leapt to his touch. Well, that in itself was not so bad but it was how he presented the aching rod to the demon's dark lips, how those very lips parted around John's cock as if they had done it before. But Donnie could not have told whether or not the other demon had sucked off John before or was just practised at it in his manner of subordination to other demons, a grunt seeming to ripple through him, pulse leaping and jumping visibly in his throat.

His heart stopped – or it at least felt like it did. It was strange, near enough delusion, blood roaring in his ears, to see that happening before his eyes, though he could not deny the throb of blood that rushed to his cock. He lusted for it, playing the voyeur, something that he'd never done before (well, not intentionally, and that had hardly been kinky when it had happened with strangers in a dirty, drunken alleyway) and found a strange delight in.

Donnie sucked in a breath, eyes riveted on John. He didn't need to explain it to himself. He didn't even need to explain it to John. All he needed to be was in the moment and, somehow, John had known what he needed before even he had come to the realisation himself.

That fucking bastard...

_ _

John hissed through his teeth, wings beating, head thrown back.

“Fuck..."

Cursing was all well and good but there was more to be had, the drugs that he'd taken before, when they'd been relaxing on the bed waiting for them to kick in, taking their slow effect. It was harder for a demon to get high (and easier too, in different ways) and the effect came upon him with a slow build-up of exhilaration. He would not have said that it would have bypassed his attention if he had not known it was coming but it would have been fair to say too that distractibility was a benefit in letting the high creep upon him with kinkily sordid claws.

“Yesss..."

He didn't have to consider the demon, the one that went by the name of Rimmon but that he didn't really care for. He was just a pawn, something that he could use and abuse, although the littler demon was very much open to being so abused. He wanted it as badly as the rest of them, grinding into his mouth as Rimmon closed his lips around like the seasoned cock-sucking whore of hell that he was, relishing even then as he closed his eyes and focused only on the cock before him.

John growled, grinding and thrusting, beating his wings to better power his thrusts. Even with Donnie, he was at least somewhat careful about how hard he went (hitting someone's gag reflex when they couldn't suppress it...wasn't worth dwelling on) but Rimmon was there to take it all and the demon grunted in surprise as John hammered in, the lewd, wet slap of their coming together echoing through the room. Donnie licked his lips, an obvious flicker of motion in the corner of John's eye that he could not miss.

Rimmon was a tool. He was there to be used. Had he thought that before? It was hard to think about things other than the feel of a hot, wet mouth sucking on his shaft, drawing it deeper, harder, into the back of a mouth that seemed best designed for such abuse. And Donnie was right there, his eyes locked on the two of him, his turgid cock twitching and visibly jerking as if it was so flush with blood that his body simply could not contain his lust. His heart surged. So... Donnie did like that.

Interesting. Something... Something that he should...

John groaned, eyes half-lidded. Heat clawed at his chest and he rocked forward, Donnie moaning in turn with him, hips working, even though he didn't have anything to sink his cock into. Not yet, at least, but that was to come later, though hopefully not too much, his hand drifting to his cock as if drawn there by a magnetic force, pulling it there through insistent need. The mere touch of his fingers brushing his cock had him thrusting and gyrating, panting and heaving. Pre-cum trickled out over his fingers, slickening the path of his hand, though he did not once drag his eyes from John, focusing on where his cock sank in.

He wanted to be there, he could not deny it. That was just what he wanted and yet there was something in watching, anticipating, that made him want it all the more. There was not a lick of jealousy in him, though that could have been the shock of the moment rushing upon him, the headiness of orgasm snarling its way up from the pit of his gut, a rising swell of heat that threatened to spill over. John groaned, hissing through his teeth as he pounded the demon's mouth for all he was worth, hips but a blur as a stray feather drifted off, unknown to anyone. They had more intriguing things to focus on.

“Fuck, Rimmon," John snarled, forcing the limits of reality – what did that really matter to him anymore? – as he forced Rimmon to take his cock into his throat, pushing back the lack of a gag reflex that the slut boasted. “You been practising taking dick again?"

His words were not the most eloquent but, really, who was clear in their wording when getting their cock sucked? Donnie, however, heard something different, balanced on the tipping point as his knees dug into the soft yet scratchy, with the duration, carpet as he spread his legs, grunting thickly in the back of his throat.

Rimmon? He has a name?

_ _

He didn't know why he'd thought that the demon hadn't had a name before but, well, it made sense. Yet that was the first thing and made Donnie close his mouth, grinding down hard on his back teeth as if he was trying to wear through them, a muscle jumping in pain in the corner of his mouth. He shouldn't have a name – just who did he think he was? John slammed in, snarling and growling like a wild animal, his image shivering, juddering with edges of black, the underworld hissing for those that had been forsaken for the brief tenacity of mortal coils.

But John tipping over the edge himself, hammering like a beast into a mouth that could take more abuse than his brothers could, was what made Donnie grunt and groan out his own climax, joining him in bliss. Connected yet not touching, they broke into orgasm together, the demon forgotten between them, his tail lifted and thrashing, though his cock was, as yet, untouched, aching and throbbing. Yet pre-cum splattered to the floor beneath him not because his hips were rocking but because John was jerking him back and forth so violently, not even Rimmon's wings able to steady him enough as pain laced every thrum of the tenacious liaison.

“Fuuuck..."

John exhaled, dumping his load into the ready and waiting mouth, though Rimmon wasn't going to let a drop go to waste. Demonic lust twisted the bounds of what was possible and what was not and, with only a tiny tweak of power, the demon had his lips closed in so tightly that he could suck down every bit that John had to offer, balls swinging up to his chin as the mightier demon unloaded.

Yet that was not all that John craved, even if Donnie was wasting his load – how rude! – on the carpet, pumping his cock even as his red cheeks glowed. Their eyes met and Donnie reeled back ever so slightly – not enough for most to notice but enough that John knew that he was ready. He'd been pushed and he was at the edge, 'broken' in the best of ways, if one could even call it that. Though Donnie's groan, cutting through the lusty clamour of Rimmon, noisily, gulping and slurping on his cock, let him know that everything had come right as he'd imagined.

Smirking at Donnie, Rimmon breaking his hold on the upper-level demon's shaft with a breathy gasp, John cocked an eyebrow. It was time for the 'treat' that he'd promised him, even if that promise had not technically been said out loud. Well, that would come to light in due course...

Ah, that didn't matter.

Tensing under John's stare, Donnie sat up a little straighter, his attention needed. What now? What could possibly follow that?

“Bend over."

Donnie gulped, his back tensing, hunching over as if a weight was curling his shoulders. Blood roared between his ears, cock half-hard. Couldn't he even get soft again after that? What was wrong with him?

Everything...

“You can't mean that... John..."

He could have said no. He could have said that he wanted to stop. Donnie could have done many things but what he did do, despite his words, was tip over onto all fours, trembling in place like a sacrificial lamb, his skin woefully bare and vulnerable before two demons. Even the lesser demon, Rimmon, was foreboding enough, though he could surely trust John to keep him safe... Couldn't he?

It was not a time to have that question leap to the forefront of his mind and he thrust it away as quickly as it had appeared, sucking in a sharp breath of air that did nothing to ease the pressure of the band around his lungs. He had to – had to trust, not to do, though it was all that he wanted, the risqué nature of it all stoking a deeper need inside him, lusting for more. Like with drugs, sometimes all that was needed was a little high and, like with drugs too, that high wasn't always enough.

Bigger, better, faster, louder, stronger... There was always a new level to reach, a new high to escalate too, a limit to breach. And that was all he could think of as John crouched before him, the demon to his back gripping his hips with a chuckle that someone managed to be cruel and wry at the same time. That, in itself, was impressive.

“Oh, I'm going to enjoy this..."

Donnie shuddered. He didn't doubt that but John kissed him, passing something into his mouth, though he was sure that it wasn't just a tab of window, a drug for a trip into a better world. With John, things were never that simple anymore and it was surely laced with something else, but he could not help but swallow it down as obediently as he was to gulp down more than one load that night too, he was sure of it.

Breaking the 'kiss', if it could be called that, John grinned, dropping a sly wink, cock twitching noticeably as if even his own lust could not be held back.

“If I'm getting some, you sure are too, Small Donnie," John said with a sly twist of his lips, the only softness coming from his eyes as he put on a show for his demonic audience. “Fair's fair..."

It was an experience for them all – well, Rimmon didn't matter. That demon could go fuck himself as far as John was concerned afterwards but he was good for a quickie, something to take the edge off and, fuck, he was sure that Donnie needed something to take off all the rough edges after everything. Things didn't have to be said for them to be understood and, before he gave Rimmon, the obedient lesser soul that he was, the nod to go ahead, he fed his own shaft between Donnie's lips.

There was comfort in familiarity and Donnie relaxed, instinctively sucking him deep up into the back of his mouth as Rimmon bore in. If he'd been able to lift his head, he would have seen the demonic flow of power swirling and coursing around the demons, brushing and fluttering as if it was controlled by the motion of the air, though it was John who powered through it all, controlling it – even Rimmon. After all, regardless of what Rimmon or even other demons thought of him, he would have to protect Donnie. They needed to know their place as much as Donnie needed to know that his place was secure.

But that was not the moment for it as Donnie moaned around his shaft and pushed back, despite everything. He wanted more, craved more, whimpered for more, caught up in a moment even though he was not ready for it. His cock was hard again and he could not have honestly have said how that happened, sounds coming from his mouth around the muffling fatness of John's girth.

And it was different. So very, very different. He leaned in, though being penetrated at the same time... Wow, that hadn't come from anything but a drunken orgy in the past and that had been a long time ago too. It wasn't worth remembering as his heart pounded for the moment, beating more and more quickly as he took more and more of the demon's dick. Rimmon didn't hold back, driving in and pushing him forward, forcing him to the extreme of taking John's cock lightly into the back of his mouth. It was only John stopping him from gulping him down all the way that prevented his gag reflex from being triggered in the most unpleasant of ways.

Yet he could be there in the moment, gulping and swallowing, taking as much of John's dick as he was able, trapped between two demons and more helpless than ever, right where he needed to be. A cock that didn't feel as if it was attached to anyone, the demon in it detached in his mind and but a position to be filled, ploughed into him, stretching him open, his mind swirling, pounding. There should have been pain with such a rough penetration but whatever it was that John had passed to him, well, that did the trick in soothing it away. It was not as if his backside wasn't used to being taken roughly either and he luxuriated in it, fingers trying to curl and claw into the carpet as he moaned and arched his back, rolling back.

John hissed, though Donnie didn't hear it and he knew it too. It was hard to hear even when every last little sensation seemed amplified, ramped up beyond all recognition. Sound conflicted with sight and taste with touch, hearing everything and nothing all at once. It was a cacophony but a chaotic one that he could not help but lean into, lusting and delving deeper, his groans turning to ragged howls of pleasure that could only be emitted by a demon. He was something else, something more, and everyone would know it, whether he wanted them to or not.

His powers shuddered, raging and lifting, rising and wrapping around them, squeezing around Donnie, pinning him in place. And yet his sceptre, that strange lark, was not there, not near, but he needed to rein it in, blistering with power, the raging force of it swirling, battering him and Rimmon. The lesser demon frowned but it was not a threat to either of them, not truly, just Donnie who was caught up in the middle, frozen and trapped by dark power, even though he would not have wanted to move even if he'd been free too.

Snarling, John fought and fought, reining it in as much as he could, hair flying, whipping about his face and casting darkness over his vision. He had to hold it back, push it down, lock it away until he wanted to make use of it again. And yet using only a bit of the power that had been thrust upon him threatened to unleash the rest of it too and it was such a delicate balance – how was he meant to handle it all? But he was John, a fucking demon, and he would find a way, even if it fucking killed him!

Too soon for that joke? Ah, well...

Donnie didn't know what was happening, torn between two opposing focuses, the shaft spreading his anal ring wide taking him hard and fast, John claiming his mouth. One was as strange as the other was familiar, both covering opposing extremes in the passion of a second that was gone as swiftly as it appeared. He needed to experience it all, to sink into it, but he had to drive harder, faster, hips working and cock ready for more, despite the stretch and strain of penetration behind.

Things that should not have been simply were and he whimpered, the sound of his lost passion muffled, reduced to less than what it needed to be. Donnie tried to rock back but he could not move, muscles vibrating with barely withheld tension, rock hard and wanton, yet lacking what they needed to contract and relax, allowing motion. What was wrong? Oh – who the hell cared?

He may have laughed at the note of mentioning hell (that was rich) but there was too much, pressure building and building, the cock slamming into him grinding right up against his prostate as if it was intentional. He had no doubt that Rimmon was doing it for his own pleasure, however, despite whatever control it was that John had over him, his heart and soul rolling and writhing in the passion of getting all he wanted without lunging for it. He was fortunate, in the glare of hindsight, that he was able to breathe, but there was so much else to savour, his heart pounding, chest juddering with the effort it took simply to remain in the present moment.

Yet Rimmon was the first of the three – well, he was the one who had not yet gotten off – to spill his load and neither John nor Donnie could have been faulted for not realising that he'd reached his high so swiftly. The demon grunted thickly and coarsely in the back of his throat as if he was almost embarrassed of the fact that he had climaxed so quickly, even though he had been the most drawn out of all of them. The demon humped and thrust in short, sharp, driving motions, Donnie groaning and trying to push back even as a seeping, crawling heat crept into him, the passion of more thrumming beneath the surface at all times.

“Unff..." Rimmon grunted, twisting his head from one side to the other, which had the effect of making him look as if he was trying to work out the kinks in his horns, despite their regular appearance. “So tight... Maybe a hole is good for something then, eh?"

But neither Donnie nor John were listening, Donnie groaning as he was filled, barely aware of what was going on. With so many sensations all demanding precedence over what came before, it was hard to keep track, John's length in his mouth insisting on attention. Just what could he do in the face of that, taking up his vision, John's wings spreading and beating, buffeting him with air?

Chuckling in a strange sort of rumbling grunt behind him, Rimmon's hand squeezed his buttocks, the demon tenaciously rejoicing in a little bit of fun that he didn't normally get for himself. A lesser demon, of course, was better suited to being on the bottom of affairs and there wasn't much in their way of power either to bring them to the mortal realm where they may well have had a fair shot at dominating someone or the other. Yet it was still a particular kind of 'look' that John gave him that had him hustling to do his bidding, knowing that his time there, as pleasurable as it all was, was entirely based on whether the mightier demon of the two deemed that he was, at least, of some use going on.

“Lemme give you a hand there..." Rimmon hastened to correct himself, despite the grind of having to do someone else's bidding nipping at his heels. “Heh-heh... Something...needed..."

Rimmon's hand found his cock and squeezed, yet the softening length in his hole left him woefully not as stretched as he would like, though not quite empty. Pleasure was pleasure, however, and Donnie could not help but arch his back and try to thrust, yet it would not be enough to get him off again so quickly – not even a hand of a demon could do that to a mortal! Rimmon was most certainly not powerful enough to hold that much influence over a mortal, even though it was something that John should be able to do in time: yet another thing in their ever-changing relationship that held limitless potential, all they could have ever desired stretching out before them in shifting, writhing passion.

He had to have it, had to take it. It was delivered unto him in such a way that he could not hold back, panting and grunting around John's cock, a slower tease of orgasm thrumming up inside him. And yet he still had John to please too, the demon's cock working harder and faster, coming with that grinding pulse of urgency that told him, in no uncertain terms, that his brother was more than close to climax. He could hold back or cum in an instant, seemingly as he pleased, yet Donnie was caught in mere mortal coils, entrapped in demonic seduction as the ultimate prey.

John hissed through his teeth, though any words were lost in the rampant slap of flash, Rimmon jerking Donnie off quickly, too quickly for comfort. Yet what was there to be had of comfort when pleasure demanded precedence, lust rising and coiling, twisting and writhing... Oh, there was little to keep his flow of thoughts, like the river of the underworld, on track and John's lips even pulled back from his teeth a little as he snarled, showing a rise of fangs, orgasm clawing at the pit of his stomach.

“Unfff..."

Still, there was pleasure to be had in letting it all hang loose, letting all spill out, and John dragged his brother to him at the very moment that climax overpowered him, humping and thrusting erratically, losing even control of himself in that moment as the outline of his body shuddered and fluttered as if there was no true substance to it at all. He could tell that Donnie too was climaxing even though his mind tried to pull him back and away from the situation at hand, ecstasy pounding through – a better drug than even the ones that were sending him up and up, soaring and floating, drifting on a wind that even he could control. And just what demon could say that in the twisting lust of it all?

Barely aware of himself, Donnie was not privy to that but sucked down every drop of cum that he could, even as John thrust oddly and ground into the roof of his mouth, catching his teeth. Sex wasn't always meant to be clean and pristine, smoothly perfect, and the coarseness of it delighted him, the skin of his brother's cock pulling over his tongue as it tugged over the harder flesh, pumped up headily full, beneath. The head twitched and Donnie rolled his hips, mimicking thrusts, into the lesser demon's hand as he spent himself too, although the meaning of orgasm seemed pulled back from him too. That must have been the drugs, yet he would only later come to find that being with a demon, the sexual passion that they had to offer in their undead ways, was the greatest drug of all. After that, nothing could or would compare to a manufactured human high.

Gasping, Donnie let John's cock slop from his lips, saliva gleaming where he had languidly cleaned it off, time shuddering and jumping, twisting around him. What was happening? The line between reality and fantasy blurred and shifted as he groaned, lips parted, a droplet of cum, somehow, still clinging there. Wasn't that funny? No giggle, however, burst from those lips as John smirked and took his face between his hands, drawing him away as even Rimmon fell back, the demon's face confusedly reverent for one that he could, ultimately, only hope to aspire to at the end of it all.

And then he was in John's arms without any recollection of just how he'd gotten there, gasping and twisting, clutching to him for dear life. The window loomed and the nightscape of the city beyond, all twinkling lights like those of fairies – and yet there was something more too, something ethereal about everything that John laid out before him like an offering. The city was not his but it was not someone else's either, a land that could be claimed or forsaken as quickly as John could snap his fingers.

His lips parted in a gasp, hands on his buttocks, squeezing. The drugs... Yes, they were still there. There was no other explanation for how his guts pulled and twisted as if some higher power was striving to tear his soul from his body – for the purposes of pleasure, of course.

Grinning, John dropped him a wink, although even he knew that it was hardly reassuring to one in such a predicament as Donnie was. Though it felt good to have him in his arms again, eyes looking to the outside world. There was still time for more and time itself had become so fragile an entity that he barely felt that he was able to make use of it as he wanted to.

“Time for something a little...different."

Donnie groaned but even his groan was cut off halfway as John laughed and tossed him – yet there was no bed to land on! His lips parted in a strangled scream, cold, night air closing around his skin, although there was no sense of fear with the drugs in his system, only exhilaration as he fell. And kept falling.

Outside. He was in the street, high up and yet falling swiftly, the lights of the city flashing and glaring around him. As everyone said, cities never truly slept but there was no one high enough to bear witness to the man plummeting, although people may have had more questions about why he was naked than why he was falling – assumptions could be made on the second count. He shouted, voice swept away on the flourish of his passing, but then John's wings folded around him, his demon lifting him up and away, catching him before he'd actually fallen more than a few floors.

“Surprise."

John's tone curled through with unspoken warmth out of earshot of Rimmon, although the second demon was in hot pursuit, his cock still leaking, drooling pre-cum as if he had not only just gotten off. He was a demon! Of course, he could go again! That should have all gone without saying but he bared his teeth in pursuit, relishing in the fight. Who knew what Rimmon had been or done in his mortal life before rising to minor demonhood but they didn't need to know.

No... Donnie laughed, close to John, a cock grinding against him, hard and wanton again. All they needed to do was fuck and fly.

He didn't know how John managed it but the drugs worked strange things on his system, pulling him down, weighing him into the arms of one that he now had to absolutely trust to keep him alive. Yet that was nothing new between them as John had saved him already time after time again, trying to manhandle him into position, though his cock only managed to grind into his arse. That, however, was enough and Donnie groaned, head spinning, the height and the drugs lending him a sense of heavy weightlessness, heavy and yet as if he could float away at any moment. The contrast was disturbing but his lust-struck mind could not hold onto it as he moaned and cried out his lust, wanting more, desperate for it...and yet unable to even ask for it himself.

And then he was free again, air rushing by his skin, caressing his cock, a teasing embrace, as fleeting as it was. He could not feel scared, however, when John was there to catch him, sweeping him up and turning him about, Rimmon in hot pursuit, laying chase to someone who could, in that tease of a moment, provide him too with some modicum of pleasure. And that was all that he wanted as he turned about, his head at Donnie's cock, sucking him lustfully into his mouth as he moaned around the length, letting him find pleasure even in the heated cold of the freefall.

Did he scream? Donnie could not tell, did not need to tell, panting and gasping as he imagined his cock was already spurting, filling Rimmon's mouth. Adrenaline did strange things to a human body – even more so when coupled with enough narcotics to lay out a lesser human being. But he was not just a street junkie who was hankering for his next high and a little kick but a drug lord with finer, more refined tastes, the one truly in power in the mortal world, with John being gone, of course. It was his right to take and he spun and spun, twisting and falling, as John's dark wings drew him up and away all over again.

His cock, however, had to come out of Rimmon's mouth and John grunted, labouring with heavy, hard beats of his wings. They looked fancy enough, that much was true, but sometimes it was harder than even he could have expected to fly with them, seeking out his power and finding it slithering through his fingertips like a pit of eels. Yet he had to keep Donnie aloft, his brother blissfully oblivious to his struggles, as much as they cut through the clamour of all that he strove for. Ecstasy, a moment that meant something more between them – oh, what else? There were no words to convey what he meant even as he swiftly lost altitude, Rimmon grinding up behind Donnie to give him all the pleasure that he ever could have craved, falling and failing, despite clinging and grasping for fading powers.

A curse drifted on the air but Donnie did not turn to catch it as his back suddenly pinned against a wall, rough and grinding, a coarse sensation that brought him, at least a little, back to some sense of reality. The gasp that burst from his lips was something of a mix between pain and raw eroticism, locking eyes with his lover as John's wings worked powerfully, shaping the air around them.

Leaning in close, John's breath tickled his face, caressing his lips in the shadow a kiss. Fitting, for a demon.

“You'll be the death of me, do you know that?"

But he wasn't given a moment in which to formulate any kind of response as his legs pushed up and John's cock sunk home, the place that it was always, without fail, meant to be. It was all right and John made everything as it should be, Donnie's moan lost in the night-time roar of the city as they fucked above anyone who may have had some kind of complaint about it at all. But he knew that John could make it right, could change things, could make sure they weren't caught – he was John! Donnie's heart surged, pounding so viciously that his chest ached. He was John and, regardless of everything that had happened, he could do everything.

Donnie was oblivious, sweetly so. John would have wanted to protect him even more than he already did if he knew the true extent of how Donnie saw him – more of a guardian angel than a demon, although there was no question as to which one was more powerful. A demon could do things that an angel or a human could not and never would and John bared his teeth savagely, lines of pain shooting through his aching muscles as he snarled and pounded Donnie for all he was worth. Angling for his high, he sought it out, knowing that it would give him more power, even if only a burst, his cock pulsing for more, always more. His body yearned for something that his mind and what was left of his twisted soul could not yet deliver, yet he would crave it all the same, pounding towards a viciously contorted epiphany.

“You know what you need to do."

It was Rimmon, the small demon floating above, the edges of his form breaking apart as he drifted, keeping himself aloft with hardly any effort at all, his hands back behind his head. His cock stood up hard and proud and, even though he was a lesser corrupted soul, he pumped it there, moaning out his lust as Donnie took every inch of John's cock that his aching body could plough into him at that moment in time.

John couldn't speak, could barely pause, forcing his body through the movements, his mind no longer quite seeming connected to muscle and sinew. Were they ever really with all that he had learned? Times had changed and things had shifted in such a way that he had to be the one in control, not because he wanted it but because Donnie depended on it. It wasn't a matter of sex or no sex but something that he had to do to prove himself, grunting and snarling, Rimmon shaking his head above them as he worked his cock languidly, acting quite as if he had all the time in the world to himself and no one else at all.

“Your cum..." Rimmon clicked his tongue rudely against the roof of his mouth and rolled his eyes. “You need to spill it. Don't you even know that?"

He knew very much, of course, what limits and buttons he could push while John was otherwise occupied and took full advantage of that. Yet John could not help but listen and nodded briefly, grinding as he thrust, the gears in his head working like an age-old machine that needed more than little oil to smooth it out once more. Rimmon had been in the demon world for longer than he and, well, it was not as if the little scrap of a thing was any threat of him. Where arrogance had destroyed him as a human it was the ultimate weapon as a demon and he snarled furiously as he pounded Donnie, caught up in a different sense of reality that no one but he was, in fact, privy to.

“Go on..."

Who had said that did not matter as John grunted and Donnie moaned, louder than any of them, even as Rimmon spent himself into midair. It was no doubt that anyone beneath him would be due an unfortunate surprise but that really was not any of their concern as Donnie moaned and tried to climax again, his body too spent to rise to such heights of pleasure, regardless of how his mind undulated on waves of ecstasy. That could come at another time, however, a later time as John fuelled himself, driving on and on until his body could not resist the lure of exploding into brutal climax, seeding Donnie without the usual rush of pleasure but...

Oh...

_ _

But there was something more and that something was what made him moan out loudly at long last, groaning and grunting, the sensation of orgasm eluding him as raw, unbridled power rushed through him. It came in such a heady flood that he sucked it in like air, wings pummelling with strain, beating and holding them up even as he drove his brother with more force than was strictly necessary against the wall, ignorant as to just how it roughed up his back.

Yet it was all as it needed to be even if he did not understand it, everything coming together in a heated moment that growled through his soul, Donnie's lips on his neck, his throat, a light caress to contrast to the raw, pulsating power coursing through him. Donnie whimpered, though he would never had admitted to it, only feeling the warmth of his tentative lover pressed against him, the wing-beats pushing on and on, a backdrop to their lust that would ring through his dreams and his nightmares for months to come for the tenacity of the moment.

And, sometimes, that was all a moment had to be – memorable. He didn't know what was going on for John but all was set to change as Rimmon rolled his eyes and shivered, his shadow drifting, losing substance. No longer was John engaged in keeping him there and his assistance in lewd activities was no longer needed as the demon scorned the mortal realm with a flip of his wing that could have been easily construed as a rude gesture.

“Fuck this shit..."

Panting heavily as he floated there with Donnie in his arms, Rimmon fading into the darkness of the afterlife, the world that was around them at all times even if they did not know it, John tightened his grip on him. Power tingled through his veins as if they now held more than just blood, his hips working and thrusting, grinding for pleasure that had to be his, somehow, to take for his own. He'd had it and yet his mind hissed for more, a beast that had to be fed as he beat his wings without any sense of being overly laboured at all, everything coming back to him with strength and passion.

Donnie latched onto him, a dead weight that no longer weighed him down, everything shifting around John as, finally, he took a deep breath, sucking in breath that was not truly needed for demonic lungs. His partner clung to him and his lips, tentatively, quirked in a smirk that no one was there to bear witness to, Donnie lost in his own passion, a cock softening in his anal ring that would soon be right back where it belonged.

Yet more had come to pass than even he could have imagined.

Laughing faintly, John tipped his head back to the starry night sky, blurred out by the neon of the city. The mortal world held so much for him, if only he was willing to tap into it, and it seemed that that wicked whore of a demon, Rimmon, had been just the one to give him the nudge that he needed. Funny how things like that worked out... John now knew what he had to do.

The game had changed.