Gabriel and the Prince of Darkness (Part Two)
Part two! Enjoy~
Jacob was careful not to use his new faggot too often and too quickly. He didn't want to grow bored of Gabriel yet, or, worse, allow Gabriel the opportunity to desensitize himself to the horrible things that were happening to him. The cruelty was not just the means to the end; the cruelty was the end itself, and if it didn't have its usual impact, what was the point in having the curly-haired cherub at all? So after his brutal trampling, Gabriel was thrown back into his cage for another few days, left to stew in his own misery. Angels don't need to eat or drink (although they could if they'd like), but even if they needed to Jacob wouldn't pay Gabriel's needs much mind.
By the seventh day of his solitary confinement, the angel lay in his cage, limp, or as limp as the cramped conditions would allow him to get. His body was bruised and contorted, and each comfort-seeking twist of his body only made him more uncomfortable. His golden locks were gnarled and tangled, and dark rings formed under his eyes. But even after all that had happened, his eyes were shut, and his lips silently moved. He didn't have a rosary in front of him, but he had memorized the pattern hundreds of years ago. When he was finished, he tried to still his mind and go somewhere else. He wanted to talk to someone as best he could.
My Lord, he began. My halo's been taken off, so I'll have to talk to You this way. I hope You don't mind, and I'm sorry for the inconvenience. Really, I am. His lip trembled, as though he had anything at all to apologize for, and he continued.
My Lord, I know You picked me for this assignment because You had such trust in me. I don't think I'm being prideful in saying that, right? You wouldn't have assigned Jacob Prince to me unless You thought I could handle him. You in your infinite wisdom wouldn't make a mistake. I know that. But... Here, he blinked his eyes, warm tears spilling down his face.
I'm sorry, My Lord. I'm not strong enough. I can't. I know I must sound like a coward, like a weakling, but I just...what is there I can do, My Lord? Will You give me a sign? Will You tell me that help is on the way? The lump in Gabriel's throat had developed into full-on choked sobs.
Please, My Lord?
There was a moment's silence. Water leaked from the ceiling of the basement. The washing machine trundled through its cycle on the other side of the room. And Gabriel heard those familiar heavy footsteps thumping down the stairs.
As Gabriel cowered in his cage, the silhouette of the huge Lucario looming in the stairwell, he heard that deep, sinfully rich voice speak to him.
"Hello, fagpet," he said, evenly. "Did you miss me?"
Gabriel knew enough about Jacob by now to know what the answer was supposed to be. "Y-yes, Master Jacob. I missed you."
"Good. That's a good angelbitch." The Lucario's heavy footfalls came closer, and Gabriel could just make out a small smile on his face. He seemed to be in a good mood, for whatever that was worth.
"Are you ready to show me how much you missed me?" he asked, and once again Gabriel knew the answer.
"Yes, Master Jacob. I am."
Another smile, one that in some alternate dimension might qualify as fond. "Good boy." Gabriel didn't want to think about what that those words, said in that voice, did to him. The Lucario reached his hand down to the cage door, sliding the bar free from its lock and opening it up to let the angel crawl out. Gabriel yipped and whined from his sore muscles, which only made Jacob's smirk wider.
"Come. Follow me."
The trek up the stairs, compared to the first time he had to follow the evil Lucario, was less daunting. The blush on the angel's face was still there, and the butterflies in his stomach still fluttered, but neither were as intense as they were a week ago. The thought sent a jolt of panic through Gabriel; he had only been taken captive not two weeks ago, and he was already getting used to it? Was he getting used to being kept in a dog's cage by this demon in a jock's body? Angels are adaptable creatures, but surely they weren't that adaptable. Gabriel did his best to tune those thoughts out of his mind, and he kept his head low as he followed Jacob up the basement steps.
The living room hadn't changed much from when Gabriel had last been up there (of course it wouldn't, why would it change in only two weeks, oh heavens above it had only been two weeks). There were still scattered socks and sports gear and coffee cups, and the TV still droned on in the background. Gabriel wondered, in the back of his mind, if it was ever turned off. Mortals were funny about their gadgets, which he supposed only made sense; if you couldn't live forever, it would only make sense to distract yourself with things that glowed and hummed and made noise. Speaking of things that glowed and made noise, Jacob's phone was resting on the couch cushion that had a permanent imprint of the Lucario's rump (get away from that train of thought Gabriel)--it was playing a Snapchat from an Arctic fox who must have been a cheerleader for Jacob's school. She had her...erm, sinful parts out, and she was moaning a hungry, needy sort of moan as though calling out for Jacob's attention through a short, pre-recorded video. Did she know what kind of man he was? What he did to people, what he was capable of, what kind of...
And so Gabriel's wandering mind, which had been trying to keep itself from focusing on the force of nature that owned him, settled on the task that he was expected to do. He didn't want to think about it, didn't want to even acknowledge it--and yet, when it was quite literally wobbling in his face, what else could he do?
"I don't have all day, cunt," Jacob said, looking over his shoulder and swaying his hips to and fro. "Get to work."
So it had come to this. From the second Gabriel had laid eyes on that fat, hairy blue ass, he knew that he was going to end up serving it. It was a distant thought at first, somewhere in the back of his mind hiding behind the holy light he tried to cultivate in his psyche. But as time went by, and as his muscles grew sorer, and as the basement grew quieter, he was alone with his thoughts, and that idea kept creeping in. He dreaded it--he wanted more than anything to run from it. But how could he?
"Angelfag? What're you waiting for? Are you so stunned by the glory of my ass that you can't move?" Jacob must have been in a good mood this morning; he almost never sounded this playful. But there was still that flash of steel in the tone. Gabriel couldn't bring himself to move, paralyzed by the enormity of his task.
"I'm losing my patience, Gabriel." And just like that, the playfulness vanished, replaced with nothing but a terrible coldness. Gabriel had never met Satan, but when he thought about what he sounded like, the angel imagined that same coldness, that same distance, that same lack of anything.
"Get. To. Work."
The second Jacob finished talking, Gabriel dove his head forward, small hands coming up to rest on the Lucario's massive tree-trunk thighs, face planted right between those gargantuan globes. It wasn't out of lust, but out of desperation; whatever punishment awaited an angel who did such a debased thing as this, he feared Jacob even more. Those hands began to rub up and down the slightly-flabby pillars of Jacob's thighs, squeezing and kneading, as the angel gathered his nerve enough to take one long, deep sniff. Jacob could hear it, even muffled between the Lucario's fearsome hams.
Snnnnnnrrrrrkh!
For a moment, Gabriel froze in place. His hands stopped rubbing, his body stopped shivering, his head stood still. Then, he turned his head to the side, wheezing and hacking, eyes watering.
"Fghhkkkkkauuk!" As Jacob's rich baritone laughter rang out through the room, Gabriel fell back on his hands and knees, forehead resting on his forearms, coughing as though he had stuck his head inside a burning building. His body twitched and convulsed as he was wracked by this horrible new sensation.
Jacob, of course, had little patience. "Get back up," he ordered, and there was no disobeying that order. Whining and cringing, Gabriel got back into position, wrapping his weak arms around those strong legs, pushing his face forward, and into that deep, hot, hairy canyon. The thickets of hair and fur tickled Gabriel's nose, but he didn't stop. He couldn't stop, although he badly wanted to.
Gabriel knew what Jacob smelled like. It was impossible to live in the same building as the monstrous Lucario and not know what he smelled like. It wasn't an unclean smell, but it was a powerful one, packing a punch with its mind-fogging combination of body heat, sweat, salt, and whatever musky body spray Jacob decided to use that day. Gabriel caught a whiff of the Lucario every time he walked past him to grab a case of beer or do his laundry, and without fail it would stun him into silence, whatever lamentations or prayers he was babbling out dying in his mouth. It had only been two weeks, but these things leave a mark on you.
But Gabriel had never smelled Jacob's ass before. Like the rest of the humongous Pokemon's body, it was ripe and sharp, giving a powerful brain-tingling shock that you could simulate by taking a nap in the collective hamper of a college football team. The smell of Jacob's body spray hadn't found its way deep into the depths of his ass crack, but that was more than compensated for by the intense cocktail of smells that burst in Gabriel's nose like a mortar shell explosion. The salt of the Lucario's sweat; the tang of leather from his couch cushion; the light dusting of jock powder; the leftover smell of cotton from the underwear he had to wear yesterday; and the spicy, earthy scent of something Gabriel couldn't identify, that seemed to come from right up against Jacob's hairy puckered star. The angel felt like he was about to faint. But he knew that Jacob wasn't about to let that stop him.
So he sniffed again, a loud, piggy snort. Snnnnnnnghk!
Jacob smiled as Gabriel gave another round of coughs into his asscrack, still clinging to his thighs for dear life even as he retched from the harsh, unfamiliar scent.
"You know," Jacob said, as Gabriel pushed his face back up against his asshole, "you're taking it pretty well. Better than I thought a faggot like you would, anyway." The Lucario reached his hand back, condescendingly running his fingers through Gabriel's hair. "Do you know that I made some human bitch cry just from one sniff of my ass? Yeah, he was a real pussy, but..." He chuckled. "I had just come off the field after practice that day, and we ran, like, fifty laps that day. So I don't think overreacting that much."
Gabriel had no doubt that that story was true; even if he wasn't audibly sobbing, there were still tears streaming down his face from the sheer potency of that powerful ass. He reached his hands up from Jacob's thighs to his cheeks, sinking his fingers into the flesh and peeling them apart to get his face even deeper inside. His nose was flush up against the fur and hair of Lucario's crack, and his lips were just grazing the big man's wrinkled entrance. Even now, without even trying to taste the hole, the angel's lips tingled from the contact.
As though hearing him from under an ocean, Gabriel heard Jacob give an order.
"Kiss."
Two weeks ago--hell, even two days ago--Gabriel would have recoiled. The pious angel would have been just as disgusted if someone had asked him to kiss them on the lips, let alone their asshole. But those two weeks had already left their mark on Gabriel, and he knew that he was going to be in this house with this black-hearted Lucario for a much, much longer time.
And so he kissed. The angel's eyes fluttered shut, he wrinkled his nose, and he pressed his lips flush against the Lucario's hole. The taste was almost as overbearing as the smell, and Gabriel didn't even think that was possible. A stinging, bitter, nauseatingly sour taste burst onto his lips and tongue, and from the way his mouth felt when it was done the angel thought they would go numb. But he could never be that lucky.
"Keep your lips there. Open your mouth a little."
Gabriel could only barely hear that order, but he obeyed nonetheless. He parted his lips a bit, and kept his mouth open, so that it remained sealed over the Lucario's asshole. Drool started to drip from the corners of his mouth, and he wondered what exactly Jacob had planned this time.
Then he heard Jacob's muffled grunt, and he felt the sadistic bully's asshole purse open in his mouth, and his eyes went wide.
Blaaaaaaarrrrrmmmp. The sound of his fart was altered by the way it echoed in the angel's mouth; it was a peculiar, hollow noise, like the inside of a bell. But whatever sound the fart made was outdone by the noise the poor, abused angel made after swallowing the six-second blast.
As Jacob reached his hand back to press against the back of Gabriel's head, the angel shrieked into the bully's ass. It wasn't just a startled cry, or a humiliated squeal; no, this was a scream of genuine terror and disgust and pain, muffled by Jacob's powerful rump. Gabriel might as well have inhaled a stream of Mace.
Jacob laughed that rich, booming laugh of his, and Gabriel's scream gave way to pitiful little sobs. Jacob was familiar with the sound; if you pushed a victim long enough, they all made that sound, or something like it. But he wasn't done yet.
"Oh? You didn't like that, did you?" Gabriel couldn't even shake his head no, and Jacob smirked. "Maybe you'll like this one better, then."
Thhhhrrrrrmmmmmmch. That thick, wet rumble echoed in Gabriel's mouth again, sullying the angel's mouth and throat with sickening, swampy gas, clinging to every surface and delivering a brutal shock to the system. The first one was hard, but this second one was somehow even worse. Jacob let go of Gabriel's head, and he waited to see how the angel reacted.
"Hrrrrghk!"
This time, Gabriel didn't scream or cry. No, this time the angel gagged--a deep, wet retch, an involuntary lurch of the stomach. He didn't move or struggle, but Jacob could still feel the dampness of Gabriel's tears in his crack. The angel was still, until he convulsed again.
"HURRRKH!"
Gabriel gagged again. This time, it was wetter, heavier. He twitched, breathing heavily through his nose. Drool started to flow from the corners of his mouth again, and sweat glistened on the pretty angel's forehead. There was nothing in Gabriel's stomach, so those dry heaves were an empty threat, but it still made Jacob grin to hear him have that effect on someone.
"Stick your tongue out," he ordered. Gabriel hesitated for a moment, as though afraid that the Lucario was going to fart again, but fear won out yet again. He stuck his tongue out, pressing his tongue against the Lucario's tight pucker and grimacing from the strong taste. He took in a deep breath through his nose, Jacob's strong scent overpowering his mind again, before beginning to lick, gingerly.
Jacob sighed with pleasure, leaning his head back and scratching his fingers through the angel's head of curly yellow hair. He was a brutal, sadistic man, but there were times when he just wanted to get his asshole tongued by a sub--and though he had enough control not to moan or writhe against the faggot's face like a slut, he greatly enjoyed this sort of worship. He bit his lip, his eyes shut.
"Good bitch," he murmured. "Keep going. Worship your master."
Jacob's fingers tensed, and he hooked them into the angel's hair, holding his head against his ass crack, controlling his movements. When he wanted attention to his cheeks, he pulled Gabriel free and mashed the angel's face against those wobbly blue hams. When he wanted attention to his crack, he pressed Gabriel's nose deep into it, not letting him move until he heard a deep, hungry sniff. And when he wanted attention to his hole, he practically jammed Gabriel's nose inside of it, as though using it to scratch an itch.
Gabriel had trained himself not to fight it too much. His eyes still watered, and there was a stream of lamentations hissing in the back of his mind like static, but he had managed to steel himself enough to the point where he could take this. It didn't seem like Jacob was going to fart again, which was what Gabriel was really dreading. As strong as that tight asshole tasted, he could convince himself that it wasn't a big deal. He knew that that pleasant fiction would fade, but it wouldn't fade immediately--and that was all he needed, for the most part.
And so on he went, tuning out everything but the task in front of him. Lick, lick, sniff, kiss, repeat. Jacob didn't seem to be getting bored yet, so he had to be doing something right. Right? He kept his ears open in case Jacob had another order for him.
For a few minutes, the beastly Lucario was quiet, letting the angel do his task. Occasionally he gave his cock a few lazy strokes, but aside from that he just stood there, an odd little smile on his face. When he spoke, it was quiet, and Gabriel almost couldn't hear it through the suffocating mass of his ass cheeks.
"Are you ready?"
Gabriel stopped his licking and kissing for a moment. "Hmmmf?"
"I said, are you ready?" Jacob yanked back on the angel's hair, and Gabriel gasped as his face was freed from the Lucario's crack. His face was glazed with sweat, one eye squeezed shut from the salty sting, and a couple of curly, wiry hairs were still on his tongue. He swallowed, coughing wetly, before speaking up.
"I'm sorry, Master Jacob, I don't understand." He could already feel dread welling up inside of him. "Am I ready for what?"
Jacob looked over his shoulder with a smirk. "Are you ready to be my toilet?"
The angel's breathing, deep and ragged, stopped immediately, catching in his throat. His mouth opened, his bottom lip quivering. His pretty blue eyes went as wide as saucers, already glistening with tears from the sheer, depraved vileness of what Jacob just said. His heart was pounding so quickly that, if you held your hand against his chest, it felt like the angel was vibrating.
"W-what?" he asked, terror-stricken. It was about all he could say.
Jacob brought his hand back and ruffled the angel's hair again. "Are you going deaf, angel fag?" he asked, with mocking affection. "I asked if you're ready to be my toilet." Just to twist the knife further, he added on. "I asked if you're ready to eat my shit."
Words began to tumble out of Gabriel's mouth, clumsy and petrified. "Master. Master. Master Jacob. I can't. I can't, I can't, I can't, I can't eat, I can't do that, I can't be your, I can't eat your, I can't I can't I can't please don't please don't please please please don't Master Jacob I'm sorry I'm sorry please don't I'm sorry please I can't pl-"
His begging was cut off when Jacob pushed on the back of Gabriel's head, shoving him once more into that hot, heavy ass crack. Knowing what was coming, Gabriel already started to cry, high-pitched, undignified sobs as Jacob tightened his grip.
"Open your mouth," the Lucario said, his voice pure steel. "Put it around my hole." Gabriel did nothing but sob, but jolted when Jacob's hand squeezed on the back of his head. The sadistic bully looked over his shoulder, imperious.
"Now."
Quivering, cringing, already gagging at the thought of what he was about to do, Gabriel opened his mouth, pushing forward and pressing it around the demonic Lucario's hole. Jacob leaned his head back, exhaling deeply through his nose, and sighed.
The fart that echoed in Gabriel's mouth wasn't as loud as the ones that came before. It was a quiet little rumble, more frightening for what it suggested than for what it was. Just from feeling that tongue-scorching gas, Gabriel started to whine and cry pitifully, but Jacob ignored him. He tugged down on Gabriel's hair, positioning him so that his head was nearly horizontal beneath him, before getting ready.
Jacob could tell the instant his log hit Gabriel's tongue. The angel stopped shaking, going perfectly still beneath Jacob, and his constant whines were cut off. For a moment, all he could do was listen to the muffled crackling noise echoing in his mouth, feeling the hot, slimy mess hiss free from the Lucario's hole and fill up his mouth.
Then, he screamed.
He couldn't scream very loud; even if his mouth wasn't being plugged with Jacob's dense, mucklike shit, it was still pressed flush up against his fat, hairy blue ass. But the angel screamed nonetheless. He screamed with his eyes wide-open and weeping, with his nostrils flaring, with his throat spasming as the Lucario's dump started to trickle down his gullet. It was wild, panicked, agonized. The angel had been trapped in the evil bully's house for two weeks by now, but it was at this point that he truly entered Hell.
And if this was Hell, then the Lucario above him was the Devil. He fed the faggot without mercy, not letting him stop for a breath or even the opportunity to chew. He didn't care one bit about Gabriel's comfort or abilities. Toilets didn't have feelings--they had a function, and he expected Gabriel to fulfill his duty.
When he pulled Gabriel away from his hole, the angel's jaw was stretched around his mouthful. His eyes were squeezed shut, the filth speckling his freckled cheeks and befouling his fine features. His chest heaved with muffled sobs, and he tried desperately to breathe. He looked up at Jacob, and for a moment he thought he was looking at God.
"Eat," Jacob ordered, and Gabriel ate.
The joke had stopped being funny a long time ago. The three angels had monitored the situation from afar, watching with morbid curiosity as the goody-two-shoes that drove them all up a wall walked cheerfully into the lion's den. Zach was quite proud of himself for coming up with the prank on the spot, but he didn't expect it to go very far. He figured that Gabriel would go to one of the higher-ups, ask for clarification, and find out that, no, he was supposed to be answering prayers in the grand celestial call center or whatever the hell it was he did. Then he'd walk back all in a huff, give Zach an indignant talking-to, and go right back to work like the paragon of light that he was.
Zach certainly didn't expect Gabriel to go down to Earth and knock on the door of fucking Jacob Prince. Gabriel was fairly young as angels went, but even if he wasn't such a know-it-all about the holy rulebook he'd know that that's simply not done, especially not if the person you're being assigned to is pure evil. It would be like waltzing into the Marquis de Sade's sex dungeon, or showing up at Jeffrey Dahmer's doorstep with a rose between your teeth and an assortment of savory herbs and spices for seasoning. And yet, for perhaps the first time in his centuries of existence, Gabriel let his excitement get the better of him.
So Zach would tune in every now and then, along with Barney and Eli, to see what Gabriel was doing. It was great fun at first, seeing the holy priss in so far over his head. During that awkward first encounter, the angels were practically rolling on the floor with laughter. Finally, the sanctimonious little cherub was getting taken down a peg!
Then Jacob grabbed hold of the angel's wings, and the laughter died down into a few nervous chuckles. By the time they were ripped free from Gabriel's body, they had stopped laughing altogether. When they watched Gabriel sob pitifully as he was shoved into the tiny dog's cage in the basement, they were completely silent.
The next day, they swore that they would go down to Earth to retrieve him as soon as possible. But, as always, they were put on assignments at the single most inconvenient time, which ate up about a year and a half--a fairly minor assignment, considering how quickly time flies when you're busy and immortal, but enough to distract them and keep them away from Gabriel.
They had finished, now, and they walked with purpose down Thorne Street. With the help of omniscience, they knew that Jacob wouldn't be home until late in the evening, which left them with plenty of time to get inside and bring Gabriel back up to Heaven to get patched up.
"You sure he won't come back 'til later?" Barney asked, glancing over his shoulder to make sure Eli was still keeping pace without getting distracted by flowers or a cute dog.
"Quit worrying, Barnabas," Zach said, using the angel's full name just to needle him. "Everything's under control. It'll take, like, five minutes. Nothing to worry about."
"Is that why you keep repeating yourself?" Eli asked, innocently, walking up alongside Zach and Barney.
"First of all, no, and second of all shut up. This is the place, right?"
The three angels stood in front of the modest, unassuming brick house labeled 233, looking it up and down. It was the right place, undoubtedly, but it wasn't quite what they expected. Then again, they weren't sure what they expected in the first place.
"Doesn't look that scary," Eli remarked.
"That's 'cuz it's not. It's just a house, guys. C'mon." Zach stepped forward and walked up the stoop, snapping his fingers in front of the lock. There was a bright spark of light for a split second, and the door swung open.
"Fuck!" Zach wrinkled his nose. "It smells like a demon's jockstrap in here."
"Speaking from experience?" Barney teased, earning him an indignant scoff from Zach.
"I thought it'd be bigger in here," Eli said. "Isn't he supposed to be really tall?"
"Well, it's got a high ceiling," Barney said. "It's just not wide."
"Eyes on the prize, alright?" Zach sighed, before clearing his throat and calling out.
"Gabe? Gabe, are you there?"
The only sound was the churn of the dishwasher in the kitchen. Zach tried again.
"Gabe? Gabriel? It's me, Zach. Er, Zacharias. We're coming to take you home!"
More silence.
"Gabriel? Barnabas and Elijah are here, too. This whole thing's gone on for long enough, and-"
"Ssshhhh!" Eli brought his finger to his lips, hushing Zach and pointing to his ears. "Listen. From downstairs."
It was faint, but it was audible: a hoarse, muttered stream of prayer, slipping from Latin to Hebrew to English and back again in mid-sentence, sometimes in mid-word.
"Is that...?" Barney started, before Zach cut him off.
"Gabriel!"
The three angels went down the basement steps, the voice growing clearer and clearer the closer they got to the bottom. Zach was the first one to the bottom, fumbling for a light switch on the wall. He found it, flicked it on, and saw him.
"Gabriel...?"
There was a figure on his knees in the darkest corner of the basement, naked and pitiful. His skin, which once seemed to glow with heavenly light, was pale and clammy, and pockmarked with sores, scars and cigar burns. His hair, which used to be a curly mop of gold on his head, was faded and stringy, and it had grown past his shoulders in ragged vines. He used to stand with perfect poise, confident in God's love and his own inherent goodness; now, he shook and shivered as though he was freezing, even though it was mid-July. He held something in his hands, but none of them could make out what it was from where they stood.
"Gabriel?" Zach said again. The kneeling figure didn't answer.
"-and I will cherish Him and love Him and obey His dark will, and I will surrender myself to Him and be His plaything, and I will-" The figure paused in his stream-of-consciousness rambling to let out a strangled cry, almost involuntarily, before returning to his prayer.
Zach stood there, frozen. Barney had his hand over his mouth. Eli looked shell-shocked. For a minute, neither of them moved.
Then, out of frustration, Zach clapped his hands together, shouting.
"GABRIEL!"
The figure stopped his muttering and crying and looked over his shoulder, uncomprehending. His eyes were dull and glasslike, and he didn't blink.
Zach felt guilty for shouting, and he took as gentle a tone as he could. "Hi, buddy!" he said, as though talking to a small child. "It's me, Zacharias. And there's Barnabas, and there's Elijah! We're here to take you home!" He hoped that his smile didn't look too forced, but he realized that it probably did.
Gabriel just stared back at him with those huge, owlish eyes.
"See? We're here. You're free! You don't need to be with that asshole anymore. You can go back up to Heaven, and we can get you a nice new pair of wings, and we can-" Zach stopped mid-sentence. Gabriel was rapidly shaking his head.
"No? You don't want to go home?" Zach swallowed. "But you'll be free from him-"
"No!" Gabriel barked, before cringing and shivering some more. "I won't. I won't be free. Won't be free. I'm His. I'm His. I'm His." Zach looked over his shoulder at his friends to see what they thought. Both of them looked as lost as he did.
"Gabriel, come on," Zach wheedled. "It's been long enough. You're not going to save his soul. I don't even think he has one. There's nothing you can do."
"I can serve Him. I can. I can worship Him. I can lick His body, and sniff His ass, and be His toilet. I can." Gabriel coughed hoarsely, wincing.
"Gabe, stop it. You're an angel. You need to act like one."
"Not an angel! Not an angel. Faggot. Faggot. Pet. Sweatrag. Toilet. Not angel."
"For fuck's sake, Gabe, let's go." Zach ran out of patience, stepping forward only for Gabriel to scramble back into his corner in a blind terror.
"Don't touch me!" he shrieked. He blinked, his face crumpling. "Don't touch me," he repeated. "He'll know." He looked down at what he was holding in his hands and sighed, giving a shaky, happy smile. Zach looked closer, before Gabriel buried his face into it, sniffing and snorting and kissing it reverently.
It was a huge, sweaty, cream-colored jockstrap.
Zach looked over to Barney and Eli, shrugging his shoulders. "Let's go," he said, with a defeated sigh. "We'll talk to Raph. He can just whisk Gabe back up whether he wants it or not."
"But then we'd have to tell him this was our idea," Barney said, cringing at the thought.
"Fuck it. If we get in trouble, we get in trouble. The higher-ups like us, anyway."
"They like Eli," Barney corrected.
"So long as they like one of us. Come on, let's go." Zach looked over his shoulder at the shaking, weeping Gabriel and tried to shove his feelings of guilt deep down inside of him. He began to walk towards the stairs, Barney and Eli lining up behind him.
"Wanna go for a movie while we're down here?" Eli asked, sounding almost dreamy in his distance. "And dinner or something. Take our minds off of things."
It might have been callous, but you didn't live for thousands of years without finding ways to cope with horrible things. "That would be nice," Zach said. "Not around here, though. This is nowhere."
Eli nodded solemnly, and turned off the basement light. The sound of prayer and fervent sniffing faded gradually away as they walked up the stairs and back into the light of day.