WARNING: THIS IS INCREDIBLY SACRILEGIOUS. If you are in any way religious, you may not want to read this, because it doesn't exactly look at religion as a very serious thing.
"You know," said Alfred, "the end of the world is coming."
"Well, bollocks," said Arthur, and he tossed another piece of bread down to the ducks. Alfred didn't bother trying to hide his chuckle at the way the mallard expertly avoided it, instead making a beeline straight for the crumb Alfred had thrown in. Good taste, these ducks had- they always knew that bread from a middle class demon would be better than bread from a middle class angel. Arthur scowled down at the bird and then back up at Alfred.
"He'll be eleven years old soon," Alfred continued casually, as if the angel beside him wasn't giving him a glare that would set any mortal creature alight.
"I haven't lost track of time," Arthur spat. The remainder of the bread in his hands vanished, and was immediately replaced by a small cup and saucer. He lifted the cup to his face, breathing in the scent of the tea inside, before taking a sip. "Young Gilbert is not quite so young anymore."
Alfred threw the rest of his bread down into the pond, grinning at the sight of the ducks tearing at each other in their attempts to grab it. "I still can't believe they named him Gilbert. Honestly, Gilbert? Who names the Antichrist Gilbert?"
Arthur clicked his tongue, taking another sip of his tea. "I daresay I agree. Why, I haven't managed to forget how quickly they dismissed good, proper names such as Cherubim and Elijah."
"Cherubim? You've got to be kidding me. Who the hell would name their kid Cherubim? It's like asking for him to be bullied!"
Arthur flushed red. "Cherubim is a wonderful name, thank you very much!" The blush refused to die down, and he frowned down at his tea before sighing and letting it vanish into thin air. "Very well then, what names would you have suggested?"
Alfred shrugged. "I don't know. I was thinking Leonard, or Samael, or maybe Pyro."
"You truly believe that Pyro is a better name than Cherubim? Oh, please, Alfred. You never had any taste in names. Look at your own, for example-"
"Sorry to burst your bubble, pal, but I didn't name me, remember? That was you."
"I- Well- Bloody fucking hell, Alfred, stop throwing that back in my face! That was thousands of years ago. I thought it had a nice ring to it!" The angel paused, then snapped, "And it was you who gave me my name as well!"
"You have a problem with your name? You've never said anything about it before! You loved it back then, and I'm pretty damn sure you love it now!"
"You never said anything about hating your name either! When you were younger, you loved it! You-"
It was only then that they realized the attention they were attracting from passerby- two young men, pressed chest to chest, faces inches apart, screaming at one another. Arthur's face was bright red, both from the cold and the intensity of their argument, his hair windswept and messy, green eyes burning, and Alfred was struck once again by how beautiful the angel would be from a mortal standpoint. He knew he wasn't unattractive himself- tall, muscular, blue-eyed, tan- but something about Arthur just… stood out to him.
A rush of heat surged through Alfred's body, and he reached out to grab Arthur's wrists. Two green eyes stared up at him, heavily lidded and smoldering with the same heat that was pulsing through Alfred's veins. "My apartment," the demon ground out, his words coming out in a puff of unnecessary air. "Now."
Neither of them knew when it had stopped being fucking, then sex, and then making love, but it had. As he threw Arthur down onto the assortment of red, white, and blue pillows, Alfred's mind jumped back to their first time, lying in the lush undergrowth of Eden just as Adam and Eve bit down into the apple that would seal their fates. Arthur had struggled and cursed and fought against him, but Evil had the advantage right then, and Alfred had forced himself inside the angel's body. It had been wonderfully fulfilling, and the demon had left his marks all over the angel, corrupting him with every thrust and touch.
At the same time, though, Arthur had been saving him. As the angel screamed out his pain and humiliation, and as Alfred grunted in twisted pleasure, something had changed. Something between them had become connected, and for once Good and Evil hadn't been quite so black and white.
That one terrible time in the forest should have been the last they saw of each other, but it wasn't. Three centuries later, Alfred came across Arthur again. This fuck was almost the same as the first- Alfred took and took and took, and gave Arthur nothing in return. But this time, instead of leaving the angel bruised and bleeding on the ground, the demon slid out of his fur and leather cape and laid it over the prone form. Arthur had given him a scathing glare, but hadn't moved out from underneath the warmth.
From there on out, they met every century or so, and then every fifty years, and then every decade, and somewhere along the way Alfred had stopped just taking and taking and taking, and started giving back as well. Arthur didn't try to run anymore- in fact, he would often be the one seeking out the demon- and his screams were no longer those of a man in pain, but of a man caught in the throes of ecstasy. Arthur was being corrupted over and over again, and Alfred was being purified, and during one session, sometime in the middle of the 1920's, their lips met in a sloppy kiss. Neither of them questioned it, and every round after that included kisses as well.
Their meetings grew more and more frequent, until they actually began visiting one another once or twice, or sometimes even three times a month, crossing the ocean that didn't really matter to either of them when it came to traveling. And during those years, it became love making, and Alfred gave and took and Arthur gave and took and Good and Evil didn't really matter.
"What are you waiting for?" Arthur growled from his sprawled position on the bed. His shirt was unbuttoned, or rather torn open, his pale chest fully exposed to Alfred's hungry eyes. The demon immediately bent down to bite on one perky nipple, delighting in the muffled gasp that escaped the angel's lips. Arthur's hands tangled in his hair, yanking him up to kiss him fiercely, their teeth clacking together and tongues tangling messily.
Though neither of them needed to breathe, Alfred eventually tore his lips away in order to concentrate on getting them both naked. It was a pretty important goal at the moment, if the nearly painful tightness in his pants was anything to go by. He returned to Arthur's chest, licking and biting at the cool, pure skin, leaving the bright red marks of a demon's kiss. His fingers moved deftly down over the angel's hips, stopping just over the button at the front of his pants. He didn't even try to undo it, instead simply ripping it off and throwing it across the room.
Arthur groaned, the sound a mix of arousal and the constant state of annoyance Alfred caused in him. "These were my best trousers, you fucker!"
"Pants, Artie," Alfred snarled against the angel's navel, and proceeded to bite down on the soft skin there. His hands hooked beneath Arthur's pants, and with a firm yank that tore the seam on one side- something Arthur protested wordlessly about, though he seemed a little preoccupied by the teeth currently nipping at his stomach, and Alfred muttered something about the fact that he could fix it easily anyways, didn't he have miracles and all that- before pausing to stare down at the cock standing proudly between Arthur's legs. "Wow, no underwear?"
"No pants, you mean," Arthur said defiantly, spreading his legs further and arching his back slightly to show off not only his erection, but also the tight little hole nestled between his ass cheeks.
A primal growl tore its way past Alfred's lips, one that he didn't usually use except when he was trying to be particularly terrifying, but this time it seemed to do the opposite. Arthur shivered beneath him, sure, but that was definitely not terror in his eyes. "And you say you're the angel." He fumbled for half a second with his own pants, then gave up on them and literally tore them off his legs. Luckily, he hadn't decided to put on underwear that morning either.
This was the part where Alfred would usually hook Arthur's legs over his shoulders and push forward into that tight, tight heat, but this time he waited. Just for a moment, not even enough for Arthur to notice and grumble at him, but for that instant he hovered over the angel's body and thought he was beautiful. And an idea that had been bothering him lately once again entered his mind and buzzed around inside. Arthur was beautiful to him in a way that no one, no angel or demon or mortal, should have been able to be. Alfred bit back the thought before it could slip past his lips, but there it was in his head.
If he had been born a mortal, this strange feeling might have been love. He might actually have fallen in love with Arthur. And maybe they could have been happy together, up until the day their pathetic mortal lives ended in a car crash or drowning or burning or maybe even just falling asleep. For the first time in his very, very, very long life, Alfred wondered if he was jealous of humans.
Before the awful idea could make its way further into his mind, Alfred grabbed Arthur's legs, crossed them behind his back, and thrust forward into the tightness that was his- the angel's body. Arthur let out a wild scream, his back arching off the sheets at the dry entry, but Alfred didn't feel guilty because this was what Arthur wanted, what he wanted, and neither of them would have been satisfied if it didn't hurt. Being angelic or demonic was entirely different than being human, after all.
Arthur's fingers came up to grasp the sides of the demon's face, pulling him down into a bruising kiss, their lips bumping against each other in a way that should have had them pulling apart in pain but only made them moan into each others' mouths. "Move, you bastard!" Arthur whined, drawing back slightly and licking at Alfred's upper lip.
So Alfred did, sliding himself out and then shoving back inside, and Arthur was just as tight as ever. Even in the heat of passion, his skin was far cooler- far softer and purer and everything that Alfred was not, couldn't be- and if he didn't know better, he thought as he plunged into the angel again, he would really think this might be love he was feeling. He bit and sucked at Arthur's neck, trying to distract himself, but it wasn't until those thin fingers and short nails clawed into his back that he could tear himself away from it.
"Why are you being so gentle?" Arthur demanded, rocking his hips down to force out more sensation. "You bloody well know I can take as much as you've got!"
Alfred's mouth opened and closed, unable to form the words that had been so irritatingly pushy until he actually wanted to say them, though his lower body kept moving forward and back, in and out of Arthur's body. Finally, just when Arthur's glare was getting particularly deadly, his voice decided to kick in. "The end of the world is coming, you know," was all he could manage to say.
"What the fuck-" And Arthur's eyes widened, his own mouth falling open as he understood exactly what Alfred was trying to say. A pale hand ran gently down Alfred's jaw. "Alfred, you know we can't…"
"I know," the demon muttered. "Good and Evil and all that crap." But his thrusts had slowed down a little, were softer, more… more loving, if only that had been possible. "Divine fucking plan and everything."
"It's ineffable," the angel whispered, though he didn't sound as certain as he usually did. The irritation was completely gone, and while those green eyes were still swimming in lust and pleasure, there was something else in there as well, something Alfred knew was in his own eyes too.
Alfred leaned down to kiss him at exactly the same time that Arthur leaned up, wrapping his arms around the demon's shoulders and holding him far closer than ever before. And this- this was really making love, this was making love the way humans did it when they really loved each other, slow and careful and- and-
Arthur pulled away from the kiss to take in a breath he didn't need. His lips opened, forming a word that Alfred knew immediately and that he would easily kill to hear, so the demon kissed him again before he could say it. It wouldn't change anything. They came together for the first time in their lives, for the first time in thousands and thousands of years, and Alfred moaned something into Arthur's mouth that the angel cried right back, and neither could hear it but they both knew what it was.
They never stayed in bed after sex- after making love, because Alfred's apartment wasn't exactly comfortable, and was really there for show more than anything. As Arthur slowly made his way over to his destroyed pants- trousers, the angel said snootily when Alfred mentioned them again- Alfred watched him, watched the way he limped just a little and how his torn shirt hung down a bit, showing off his slender shoulders. "Hey, I guess this means I'll see your wings and halo again soon," Alfred blurted out, suddenly not wanting the silence that often followed their meetings.
"I suppose you will," Arthur said after a moment in which all the buttons on his shirt reappeared, fixing and righting itself on his torso. "And I suppose that means your horns and hooves will be back as well." He stared at the torn pants on the floor, and then they were good as new and right back on his legs.
Alfred let out a sigh. "I guess. I've kind of gotten used to walking on human legs, though." He looked down at the legs in question- long, muscular, covered in blonde hairs. "Toes, too- I kind of like my toes."
"You do have nice legs," the angel conceded from across the room. His back was tense, his eyes fixed on the wall. Alfred slid himself off the bed, and within moments he was fully clothed again, the clothing on the ground having completely vanished. He strode purposefully over to Arthur and wrapped his arms around the angel's body, hoping that his body wasn't shaking the way he thought it was. Arthur swallowed heavily. "It's ineffable. We can't…"
"It's ineffable," the demon agreed, and kissed the back of his ear. "But… what's ineffable, Arthur? We don't know the master plan. You know the old guy up there just grins and looks like he knows something you'll never find out. Maybe… Maybe this-"
"We can't," Arthur interrupted as he turned around, voice desperate. "I'm Good, remember? You're Evil. We can't simply-"
Alfred kissed him to shut him up, and to his surprise it worked. Arthur melted into his arms, clinging to him- and fuck, this must have been what love felt like for humans. But they weren't human.
"Let's go out," he said suddenly. "You have to come to America anyway, for the Antichrist and that stuff. We can go to that tea place you like so much. I'll treat."
"Alfred-"
"Maybe it's not love. Maybe all that crap is true and we can't fall in love because it's not in our genes or whatever."
"We don't have genes."
"You know what I'm trying to say!" Alfred bit his lip, looking down at the angel in his arms. "If this isn't love, it has to be something. And- and everything's ineffable, right? So this part must be ineffable too. And maybe that's a good thing. Besides, it's just the end of the world. I mean…" He struggled for words that he didn't actually have, to express what he felt and what he wanted. "This thing we've got… It has to be something."
Arthur stared at him, just stared, and for half a second the demon was afraid he would be left all alone in his stupid apartment. But then the angel leaned forward and kissed him again. "Fine. Let's go to your bloody America. But you owe me as much coffee as I can drink."
Alfred beamed. "Come on, then! Put on your coat, I'll call a cab-"
"A taxi, Alfred."
"Whatever." Alfred was already fishing his phone out of the air, dialing a number without touching the buttons, when he felt a pair of arms wrap around his middle.
"You know," Arthur said quietly, though Alfred could hear the smile in his words, "the end of the world is coming."
Alfred laughed. "Well, fuck."
A/N- Hi guys! I'm sorry I haven't updated Prometheus Rising in a while, but this next chapter is so incredibly hard to write for some reason. It will be out soon, I promise!
Anyways, this is based off one of my favorite books, "Good Omens", by Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman. If you've never read it, you really should- it's about the end of the world and is hysterically funny.
Oh, and as for my seemingly bizarre use of 'ineffable', that comes from the book as well. The word is used all the time, and it never seems to be used the right way. So yes, this strange usage was completely intentional.
Anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed! And the next chapter of PR will be up soon.
