Chapter Text
Rafayel and Sylus had a deal.
Perhaps it was its own idiocy to make a deal with a fiend. Rafayel knew the risks, understood enough of the nature of this particular devil to reconsider the proposal and think it over in a multitude of ways before signing his name in precious Lemurian blood.
Or perhaps it was a stroke of genius too, to realize the opportunity before him. To see a creature so unlike this world and consider it beautiful, to learn of desire for his own sake.
Once upon a time, that was enough for Rafayel.
And then Sylus had seen him, understood better than he ought to, and fed a hunger in Rafayel that could not be sated so easily any longer.
And so it is— where once were unknowns, now one with a shared unsatisfied greed.
Again, Rafayel and Sylus only had a deal.
They didn’t have a friendship; it was not even a companionship at all.
What Rafayel and Sylus had was a business relationship.
And even as Rafayel whimpers above the fiend, his hands clasped tight on the headboard, knuckles white and eyes rolling back, he knows that this is all business.
“Don’t—“ he is breaking, teeth sinking into his neck; filled, on the precipice of a great fall, “…don’t bite me!”
But oh does the fiend tests, the fiend pushes and prods every button on Rafayel’s body until he is a million particles of sea crashing against the shore. The tide swells within him and his hands inevitably find a firm port to dock on, none other than the shoulders of the smug fiend underneath him.
The fiend smirks, satisfied as he licks off the blood from sinful lips.
Precious Lemurian blood, wasted on a creature of the abyss.
“Is it?” The fiend asks as if reading his mind. A lone red eye glows, simmers underneath, sees Rafayel as he is; naked, hungry. Still unsatisfied, slowly undone. “Do not lie to yourself, siren. You want this as much as I do.”
Warm hands held onto Rafayel’s waist and the next roll of his hips had him gasping for breath, ravenous and breathless all at once.
He feels himself sink into that deep abyss, briefly comforted by the warmth of its pressure in him, and he goes lax as the fiend pushes his back against sweat-soaked silken sheets.
“Satisfied?” Sylus asks and Rafayel, too clouded by his desire, too aching to be coherent, simply shakes his head. Sylus chuckles, a deep sound resonating down where they’re joined. “Let me help you.”
Rafayel knew Sylus did not mean it. Rafayel knew that all Sylus wanted was satisfaction, because it is Rafayel’s desire as well. Because this is their deal.
They sate each other the only way each of them could, and for the time, it is enough. It is a business transaction done and over, a transaction that will be repeated in the foreseeable future because this relationship was convenient, this relationship was easy.
There was no need to complicate things any further.