Author's Note: This is one of my first attempts as Left Behind slash, and so far they do not come very easily for me. Practice makes perfect though, so I'll be posting a few every now and then. Some might be good, other might not, and expect most to be short. My Harry Potter updates were dreadfully short for the longest time too until I got the hang of it. Anyway, I avoided making this too X-rated, but it is certainly M-rated, so you've been warned. There is slash, and it's really not terribly fluffy, though it's not quite abuse either... enjoy.

Also: I, of course, do not own Left Behind. I do not gain anything but amusement by writing this.

Fortunato was an asset, but there was always value in keeping everybody in one's orbit in their proper position.

Leon's proper position was just so; on his knees before Nicolae, his brown eyes wide and glowing with adoration, and his lips parted...

Worship. Finally.

It wasn't the romantic sort of worship that they had both been raised with. It was broad daylight and sunlight leaked in even with the shades drawn, so candles would do nothing for the mood even if they brought them in. The pair did not look down to find their skin covered in rainbow patterns from stained glass windows, as Nicolae found that distasteful for an office. There was no holding hands and chanting; Leon's lips were busy with other things, and Nicolae's hands were far more comfortable lost in a fluffy mess of Italian hair. If the men had ever cared to ask, incense would have been easy to come by—Viv Ivins kept a bottomless supply of it—but Nicolae didn't care to ask.

Of course, Leon would have loved all or any of those things. It was that same superfluous pageantry that got him kicked out of Catholic school. It was Leon's trademark sin. That was the point, really. Leon would have loved it, but Leon's place was on the floor, loving Nicolae, and Nicolae was a selfish lover.

"He is yours." The spirit's voice echoed through Nicolae's mind.

And Leon was Nicolae's, beyond any doubt.

"Leonardo..." The Italian's given name spilled from Nicolae's lips.

"Hmm?" Leon hummed, and the vibrations shot through Nicolae. Eyes as wide and as dark as the night sky flicked upward to meet eyes of the same clear blue as the heavens currently above them.

Several fast gasps and the Romanian was ready to speak again, "You are doing very well."

And the older man froze. Nicolae was free with complements when Leon was a kingmaker preforming in front of him, but Nicolae made a point of with-holding such praise when Leon was preforming on him as a... devotee. 'Lover' was far too romantic a word. Even Leon could pick up on that.

Leon recovered quickly, and his mouth began working once again. His eyes, however, remained locked on Nicolae—as much as possible from his current position between the blond's legs—and he waited for the Romanian to elaborate.

"Your mouth was a gift from the spirit realm..."

He couldn't really mean—

"The way you handled Stonagal today was excellent..."

And Leon could only just avoid flinching, though he wasn't surprised in the slightest.

Nicolae looked down, feigning surprise for only a moment before allowing his lips to curl into a sadistic smirk. "Is something wrong, Leon?" Fingers moved in Leon's dark curls, stroking him for a moment before settling again.

"No, sir." Leon released Nicolae and shook his head slowly while he spoke, his burning cheeks brushing sweaty thighs on either side. It was the only time he had ever lied to Nicolae. Leon could handle his boss' coldness during these encounters, but that teasing stung.

"If you say so." Nicolae raised his eyebrows, giving Leon a look that assured him the lie was overlooked, not unnoticed.

Nicolae nudged Leon back to his work.

"Leon, you know I love you, don't you?" The Romanian's voice washed over Leon, and though those words would never carry the romantic meaning Leon wanted them to, the truth in them soothed him.

Leon responded only with a soft moan of agreement.

And Nicolae lost it. It was far too much for Leon to keep in his mouth, but not nearly enough of the Chosen One to satisfy Leon's desires for him. The future False Prophet neither noticed nor cared about the taste, but drank all he could simply because it was Nicolae's seed.

The younger man smiled warmly and caressed his employee's cheek.

"I couldn't have asked the spirits for a better kingmaker."

Kingmaker, follower, devotee, employee, servant, maybe even friend... but never lover. And maybe, just maybe, if that was the way it had to be...Leon could live with that. It was certainly far better than not knowing Nicolae at all.

Leon rested his head on a tanned thigh, inhaling Nicolae's scent and unable to shake the feeling that this was all just some extended dream. "Thank you, sir." For everything.

Fortunato was an asset, but there was always value in keeping everybody in one's orbit in their proper position.