Digimon Story
Gallantmon X Beelzemon
Digimon Tamers Series (Humanized)
WARNING: This story contains fluffy & Yaoi/BL/Slash

Summary: Beelzemon had a cold before Sakuyamon recommended/gave him some medicine. Unfortunately, neither of them looked at the warning label. Q- Bell's wonderful boyfriend, Gallantmon, for coming and helping him with the side-effects. Yay! Medication fail resulting in sex (and I think it's a) kink!

Sick from Wanting your Eyes on Me


He hated today, today could go die in a ditch, and rot in a can of toxic waste. It was a chilly spring day with overcast that made it feel like the sun never came out from the horizon. Beelzemon, who was huddled up under the covers with misery pooling in almost all of his joints, hated today beyond everything. He hated it because yesterday he had a little cold, and one of the few Digimon in the city that actually talked to him, I.E. Sakuyamon, gave him some medicine. She said it was basically cough syrup but with some herbs and tea leafs, she said it helped her mom when she was sick. She had some too, every once in a while, and it had minimal side effects. Beelz took it a little warily, but he'd taken some without a thought before going to bed.

Which lead him to his regret of doing so today. Beelz was miserable, not because the medicine didn't work, it did. His cold was completely gone. It's just he didn't expect the "minimal" side effects to feel like he had a triple dosage of Viagra! It felt awful, he couldn't move without his joints rolling against the painful pooling within them.

His hips were probably the worst of it all. There was an encircling coil of pain surrounding an uncommon, unsatisfied, pleasure filling his reproductive system with lust and need. It hurt, it made his pelvis extremely sensitive to any sort of contact. The mattress, the sheets, his sweat pants, all of it made him want stimulation. Yet none of it got him any closer to his needed liberation of the tightness within.

Fuck, when this was over he was going to murder that fox.

"Minimal side effects my ass!" The angel grumbled into his pillow. Where was Gallant when you need him? "Did I really just think that?" He groused again.

He and Gallant had been dating since December. They both -kind of- agreed that they started dating the day after Sakuya and Saint had kidnapped the angel, tied him up in bows and ribbons, then dumped him in Gallant's room with a card that essentially said "He's all yours, don't break him." And Gallant had taken those confrontations in stride, and pretty much fucked his brains out. Those bastards.

Corse even now he had to acknowledge, Gallant was an instinctive livewire when it came to the bedroom. Bell could count the number of times they'd had sex on one hand, and they were wonderful. It was some combination of his superior mass and height, his unrestrained power, his erotic muscles, his vigorous stamina, his filthy tongue, and his eyes.

No, it was just his eyes. The gold lens that contained an unreal fire that made him melt under the knight's heated stare. It burned him, owned him, and killed him to see those amber eyes, to see the bright auburn embers of his lusty fires in the morning sun. His eyes were a focus point, they forced you to appreciate the rest of his face. The tan skin, the white smile, the long tan hair held back in a messy tie. God, it was down to his waist now. But the length just made you trail your eyes down over his figure, the wide shoulders, thick arms, lean torso, slim waist, and long legs. He was natural muscle, the kind you need to be born with, not the kind you spend an ungodly amount of hours working at the gym for. He was a picture perfect knight, he was a fairy tale character that came right off the page. Gallant was perfect. Gallant was his.

Fuck, he was starting to sound possessive, maybe he was still sick.

And these thoughts of his boyfriend were not helping the needy coil in his pelvis. His hips were in agony with the lack of reprieve, he needed help with this. The pain in his limbs was too much for Beelz to take care of this on his own, Hell he couldn't even move his forearm 2 inches without wanting to whimper in misery. And, to his knowledge, Gallant wasn't going to be there today due to work at his family's bakery, even if he did come by that was hours away. He was going to be like this for a while and it wasn't going to be fun.

He tried to think of all the things he could do, but nothing really seem to work; doing anything outside of bed was out of the question, doing anything that involved MOVING was out of the question, too. The only other idea he had was to try and sleep. And he did try, but he couldn't, his lusty erection was too bothersome pressed against the bed. He puffed rough air in annoyance, blustering blond locks dangling spontaneously in his face, only to have them reduce right back into his expression.

However during his process of thought of what to do now, his eyes lethargically started shutting and inevitably fell asleep. It was only when he felt hands run up and down his spinal cord and Gallant's voice mumbling sweet little words next to his ear, did he come to once again. Yet when he went to move his arms in an attempt to put them under him, the hurt came roaring in his joints and the coil in his reproductive parts tightened, he let out a painful and needy groan. Shifting in both pain and lust into the knight's hands on his back.

"Oh, Bells," Gallant cooed, using his nickname for the biker. He leaned over and picked up the bottle of medicine Sakuya gave the blond. He caught a glimpse at the clock while he was watching the other, 8:47 pm. The knight looked over the label before turning the bottle to look at the back. "Oh, sweetie. Where'd you get this from?" The knight turned back to the angel, confusion traced his features.

"Sakuyamon gave it to me, said it would help with my cold." He replied sadly still feeling the pain in his hips.

"Bell, this medicine is to help with a women's hormones and their body functions."

Red eyes widened in horror, he almost didn't believe what his boyfriend said for a second. Bell simply muttered a 'What?' at the statement, before the other moved so he could see the tiny red letter's (without his idiotic glasses) that spelled out; WARNING: Only for female metabolisms, hormones, etc. If taken by a male or child please immediately regurgitate medication or contact your doctor, for signs of female body grow, testosterone imbalance, early signs of puberty in a child, abdominal/joint pains or signs of a drastic sexual drive increase may occur. No life threating effects have been reported… Well, fuck.

Oh that fox better run now, because she was going to be a stain on the cement when Beelz got his hands on her!

"…Tell that fox that when I get my hands on her,-" And he was off, describing every single way he was going to brutally murder her. Gallant just chuckled, he leaned in and kissed his pale creamy cheek. Beelz stopped almost instantly and stared at the latter, who was setting the bottle down. He got off the bed and started walking away. Ignoring the agony in his body, he would later blame need and lust for driving him, Beelzemon swung his arm to catch the knight's hand before dragging him back down on the bed, just barely managing to move over the other without wailing in miserable motions of pain and pleasurable need.

Gallant was on his back with his angel pinning him down, the smaller straddling his toned stomach, hands grasping his collar of his open red flannel. God, Beelz spared a second to stare at the other's appearance, he was wearing that outfit Bell adored and in an attractive way, too. Red flannel, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, white T-shirt with his 4 triangles and a circle symbol, his two sets of belts, and torn blue jeans that were a little baggy on him in all the right places. His hair falling out from under his dragon visor, a strand or two hanging over it, the rest tied back into a long thin ponytail that was falling over the edge of the bed. His mouth a thin line, and his eyes wide with surprise, yet they still burned, they still made him feel hot within his skin, made him want to hide how that stare killed him inside.

He didn't even realize he wasn't breathing, until the knight rolled them over so the biker was on his back now. Who's knees locking around the latter, who leaned over him, laying nips and the flat of his tongue to the creamy expanse of the other's throat and jugular, his right hand going to the hem of the angel's black skin tight T-shirt pulling it over his blonde's head. The other hand playing with the laces of his black and purple plaid sweat pants, grasping one end and tugging the knot lose, then pulling the piece of clothing off.

Beelz loosened his grip on the flannel and slowly moved to let the clothes come off, he still hurt horribly, but Gallant was gentle through and through. His hands, large and warm, moved to glide over the angel's cool cream skin, catching and tracing the bumps and edges of his chest and stomach. The coil in his pelvis tighten on impulse and his erection begged to be touched. He didn't need foreplay, but damn did it feel good.

"Mm… Long have you been suck in bed like this, waiting for me?" The knight said between nips and licks, one hand still moving over the angel's chest, the other finally gripping the long neglected member. A long drawn out moan, and the reflexive jump of his thin hips, pleasure overriding pain, legs locking firmly to Gallant's lower back sliding into the larger body. He gripped the other's flannel once more just to have him move away, fuck, if he still had a tail it would be slapping the bed in irritation (or dealing with the problem he had itself, either way).

"Too long." Bell whined in the back of his throat at the loss of contact, until he saw that the larger was stripping. Gallant pulled his flannel off, he was about to throw it somewhere in the room, when the blond took the opportunity to slide against the other's muscles, letting an arm slip into a sleeve then the other. Earning a bewildered look, until his thinner hands started tugging the hem of the white T-shirt, till it was pulled off and tossed to some recess of the room, before red eyes staring up, begging for any kind of contact, captured him.

God, those cherry red orbs sparkling, swirling with richer bloody reds, and colliding with glossy rubies, they were beautiful and darken with heavy drops of lust. Gallantmon loved those eyes, yet seeing those shimmering emerald eyes once more, see those dark black feathers that made his angel, an angel once more would be wondrous. Corse having Beelzemon, in any way would make him happy.

Damn, maybe he was sick too.

Lips locked with an undeniable passion, hands gripped hands entangling and intertwining, falling back on the mattress. The sound of the springs squeaking to the weight shifting seemed to echo and resonate against the walls, the sound of moans leaking through the cracks between their lips muffled by their shared saliva, and the sound of a zipper being undone and clothes shuffling and tossed to a corner, all of it, hit deaf ears. Caught and captured in the lusty medication that would never cure this disease of passionate romance. Tangled in slithering body warmth and cold night air combining to smoke the minds of heated lovers in a hookah of a humid bedroom. A state of romance where no one knew where the medicated mind of a dark angel started and the powerful pounding of a royal knight's heart ended.

When they final pulled apart, huffs of hot carbon dioxide mixed with the cold air and fogged the space between. They spared the moment to stare into one another's eyes to feel the fires and feel the other's stare pierce them. Heavy hands brushed strands of blond hair away, and thin cold ones crafted languid patterns into muscular shoulder blades.

Gallant took the moment to reach into one of bedside table drawers, quickly coming back with a small blue bottle, he coated his fingers and kissed the smaller once more. Tongues skimming against each other, as a finger intruded on the blonde's insides, followed by a second, then a third. Moving in and out, scissoring, and pressing against his sweet spots, sparking pleasure throughout his systems and forcing exaggerated moans out of the angel's throat.

One last thrust of his fingers and the knight retracted them only to replace them with his own neglected member. Thrusting in slowly, causing little hiccupped chirps to escape the blond, only to be followed by a cascade of screams and moans as the knight showered Beelz with passion in the form of pounding him into the mattress.

Tears weld up in the angel's eyes, hands clutching the knight's hair, fingers just barely peeking out from the oversized flannel, pulling at the tie until it came loose, knocking the visor off and onto the floor. Moving in the feeling, the pain in his joints long forgotten in the passionate crashing and receding tides on Gallant's body on his. The sounds of the motions, of his own whines and begging for more, of the knight's dragon-like snarls as he did so obligingly, the wet slaps of sweat slicked bodies. The taste of tongues sliding against one another again, the scent of sex contaminating the air like poison infecting their brains. Not like Beelz's were in the right places at the moment, seeing as Gallant was making sure the smaller wasn't going to be using them for a while.

Finding himself nearing the edge, his grip on the tan hair tightening, until Bell pulled Gallant to his own throat leaving him plenty of room to scream into the cool air, as he ultimately grasped the liberation he'd been wanting for hours now. Spinal cord bending to curve into the tan muscular flat of the latter's chest, spilling onto the taut muscles of his own concaved stomach and the thick abs above him, his reproductive fluids seeping out on his boyfriend's shaft.

Gallant falling fast right after him, clamping his white teeth into the cream craning throat under his tongue. His hands leaving bright red curving dents into the pale hips in his grasp, barring himself into the wet hilt of his lover. Stuffing him with his seed, feeling the sensation of it mixing with the angel's fluids and it dripping down their thighs. Both taking pleasure in being drenched in the other's semen and sweat, to be owned by the other, to feel their shared enjoyment seeping out and on to them. Loving how disgusting it was to be so wet and sticky.

Fuck, they were sick. Infected with love and passion for each other. It was a sinner's passionate cancer, an angelic infection of the heart, a lusty illness that corrupted their minds, it was a disease of lovers that conflicted them. And it all started, it always started, began, it was there the whole time, and tapered off with it. Beginning, middle, end. It was the source of this sickness, lived, thrived, finished.

It was always the other's eyes that made it all start. It was Gallant's eyes that spelled into their first kiss. It was Beelz's tear stained eyes that made sex feel horrid if there weren't emotions behind every motion.

It was a staring contest neither of them could lose at the moment.

Bloody rubies colliding with hot amber embers, dancing within one another.

Flames meeting gold, melting in each other's heat.

A chuckle was all it took to shatter the whole instant. Falling to the bed hearing the squeak of the springs aching in the shift, laying on their sides, snuggling up to center their warmth, Gallant drew a hand up Bell's thigh to the sensitive bruises wrapping around the milky hip, Beelz letting his fingertips roam over ridges of profuse muscles and old scars. The aroma of sex like morphine on his nose making groggy and slow, yet his fingers still moved over flesh even if they were being more languid in the activities.

The knight chuckled at the sight, gliding his hand over the bruises, under the flannel to his spine, still moving up to his shoulder blades, tracing the dark lines of those beautiful wings tattooed into cream skin. He wanted to see those wings fly once more, see the feathers flutter against the bright white shine of the sun. Letting go to reach over and grab the long forgotten blanket the one Bell was snuggled up in before, he'd pinned him to the bed. Tossing it over them, not caring that he still had his pants on or that they were still covered in semen and sweat. Cradling the smaller in his big arms, tucking him closer to his body. Thoughts running in sync with one another as sleep grasped them in dark dreams of nothing rational or real.

"Maybe I won't kill that fox after all,"

"I need to thank Sakuya for giving him that medicine,"

"God, I must still be sick if I'm thinking that shitty female hormone booster in a bottle actually helped after harm,"

"Maybe I should give him some of that stuff every once in a while,"

"Fuck, I must still be sick,"

"Damn maybe I'm sick-,"

"Or-"

"-Maybe-,"

"I'm just-,"

Sick from Wanting your Eyes on Me