A DELUGE OF SILENCE PERMEATED every corner of the room, thick and tangible and suffocating. Abel longed for his vision to leave him again so that he would not have to see the way Jericho looked at him. Wide clusters of stars stared up at him in what Abel could only assume was horror. How he did not disappear when the demoness did, Abel didn't know. All he could remember in that sweltering light was his fervent prayer to take Jericho's pain from him.

But that fear in his eyes... Was that not also pain?

"I'm sorry," Abel said. His voice was layered, an entire legion wrapped up into one man. "I'll go to the room. I don't know what I look like right now."

He turned away to spare Jericho from the agony he was certain he was in. Before he could get far, Jericho was on his feet, gripping his wrist. He did not flinch, nor hiss in pain, and Abel turned around to look at him curiously.

"Abel, please," Jericho whispered. "Don't go."

Abel glanced from his wrist, held captive by Jericho's hand which showed no signs of discomfort. "Does this form not cause you suffering? Are you not wounded by the sight of me?"

"How could I be, angel?"

They were the same height now, but he still felt small next to him. He stared at the demon with a thousand glimmering eyes. Such fervent words, despite their contradictions with reality, were impossible to deny when Jericho touched him without complaint. Perhaps he was only pretending, for Abel's sake, or because he longed for him no matter how incompatible they were. And yet, Abel had never gazed upon eyes so sincere.

"I know this isn't what you wanted," Jericho went on. "But I don't want you to hide from me. Please."

There was a hint of a whimper in Jericho's words, and it tugged at Abel's chest in more ways than one. He studied him, considering something for several long moments.

"I do not hurt you?"

"No."

"Not even if you were to touch me more? It wouldn't burn?"

"Angel, it only hurt that one time because I was unprepared for how beautiful and terrifying you are," the demon said, his promise eager. He stepped closer, threading his fingers through his hair. "If it was something you wanted, I would touch every part of you when you're like this. And I would treasure it."

Abel swallowed. "Then touch me," he breathed. "Please. I want your hands all over me, maybe I'll feel less godly then."

They were in the room not ten seconds after he said this, mouths crushed together as though they could not breathe without each other. Abel stumbled backward until his knees hit the bed, and he allowed himself to fall. His many wings splayed out beneath him, encasing Jericho as he crawled over him. His hand gripped his dark hair, urging him closer, and Jericho obliged. Abel parted his lips, an invitation for the demon to slip his tongue inside.

A choked whimper buried itself into Jericho's mouth as Abel sucked on his tongue. It was long and thick, firm despite its flexibility. While Jericho thrust it in and out of his throat, Abel's mind took him somewhere dreadfully sinful.

He squirmed against Jericho's groin, catching the demon's smug attention. He pulled away, and the absence of his tongue allowed Abel to breathe again. Perhaps it was the lack of oxygen getting to his head, but he was throbbing now, overcome with violent yearning.

"Mmm, impatient already?" Jericho purred. "I've yet to touch all of you."

"Then do it." Abel ground up against him, feeling a familiar growing stiffness as he did. "You're no less desperate than I am."

"So you admit you're desperate?"

Jericho's hands slipped down Abel's sides, then settled at his waist. Abel was covered in feathers and eyes and holy armor like this, but his abdomen was mostly exposed, allowing the demon a perfect place to grip. His thumbs stroked over the golden skin of his stomach, sending jolts of gooseflesh over Abel's body.

"Enough teasing," he said and wrapped a leg around Jericho's waist. "Don't let me think, you know this."

Jericho squeezed his waist. "Where can I touch you?"

"Anywhere you wish." Abel rolled his hips again. "Just do it."

At last, the demon complied. He buried his face in Abel's neck while his hands covered every surface apart from his chest. One arm wrapped around his waist, lifting him up enough for Jericho's other arm to slide up. His palm explored the feathery patches of skin where the wings connected, and the touch did something unexplainable to Abel. His back bowed off of the mattress, head tipping back with a startled yet satisfied moan.

"Sensitive?" Jericho wondered aloud. His hands continued to stroke there, and Abel couldn't hold still.

"Fuck," he whined. "Yes."

Jericho nipped at his neck, then turned Abel onto his stomach. With his knees tucked under him, Abel felt like he was kneeling in prayer. He shivered.

"You're beautiful," Jericho hummed as his hands stroked more of Abel's wings. The feathered masses twitched in response, a reaction fully beyond the limits of his own control. It was embarrassing. He never wanted Jericho to stop.

"More," Abel said into the mattress. "Please."

Jericho gave no protest. His hand slipped down to explore more of Abel's body, his hips, his stomach, his thighs. All the while, he lined kisses down the center of Abel's responsive back.

Soft, content sighs created a melody as Jericho felt further over his legs. Even where his skin was covered by armor, Jericho touched it, and Abel felt it. After many moments of exploring, one hand slipped around to feel the eager heat between Abel's thighs. All that covered it was a thin layer of fabric.

"Jesus, angel, you're soaked already," he growled.

Abel reddened. "Shut up."

"You sure?"

"...No."

Jericho teased him through the fabric, earning a muffled whimper into the pillow. "Poor thing," he said. "It seems like you can't even wait for me to touch all of you."

"You touched enough," Abel groaned, bucking against his hand. "Just... mmh..."

A deep laugh resounded in Abel's ear as Jericho licked over his neck. "Go ahead, tell me what you want."

"I want you to do what you want to me."

"And what I want to do to you is whatever you're thinking about right now."

That horrible, sinful tongue is what I'm thinking about. Abel couldn't just tell him that.

He murmured this into the mattress. If Jericho didn't hear him, it was his loss.

Jericho wasn't so easy to give up, though. "Speak up, angel."

"You should've listened the first time."

He stuffed his hand into his hair. "You should've spoken up the first time."

"Pity."

Jericho grabbed a bunch of his hair and yanked Abel's head back with violent force. Abel whimpered, a dirty, pitiful sound. He was rewarded with more pressure to his throbbing groin. "Tell me, angel, or I'll have to leave you here, desperate for me."

"Please," Abel whined. "Just do what you want."

"I'll do it once you tell me what you said."

Abel groaned. Jericho pressed his hand harder.

"It's humiliating."

"You have no idea all of the things I've gotten up to," Jericho said. "Trust me, there isn't anything that will surprise me."

It took Abel several moments to gather up the courage to tell him what he wanted. And Lord, he wanted it. He ached for it like nothing else. When he spoke, his voice was small and shaky. "I want you to... mm... use your tongue."

Jericho was quiet. And then, a laugh. "Is that all? You want my tongue?" Just to tease him, he ran that very tongue over Abel's face. "That's to be expected, darling. I've been showing it off for a reason."

Abel chewed his lip, cheeks burning furiously. He prayed his golden angel skin hid whatever blush there would surely be if he was in his normal state. "Shut up."

"Gladly."

Once again, Jericho flipped Abel over onto his back. He spread his legs apart and wasted no time in ridding him of his garments, exposing his eager cunt to the air. He dragged two fingers along the surface and licked them clean when they came away with something slick and sticky.

"You taste divine," he hummed.

Abel propped himself up onto his elbow to watch. His stomach rolled when he caught a glimpse of something glistening on his thighs.

Jericho leaned in, planting kisses on Abel's skin. He couldn't stand all this teasing, but Jericho's hands held him firmly in place to stop him from squirming. Abel felt something dripping.

"You must be more sensitive like this," Jericho mused against his leg. "You're wetter than the last two times we did this."

Abel looked away, allowing his hair to shield his face. "You're so... Be quiet."

"No need to be embarrassed," Jericho said with a chuckle. "It's pretty."

Pretty? How could that be pretty?

Before Abel could fall down an unsavory train of thought, Jericho's tongue swiped over him, lapping up his arousal. Abel moaned.

"You taste-"

"Stop using your tongue for talking."

Jericho's eyes widened briefly. Nevertheless, he complied. He licked again, then focused on toying with his sensitive clit, taking in how Abel writhed in pleasure.

He couldn't keep himself upright anymore. As Jericho's tongue worked at him, Abel collapsed onto his back, sinking into the feeling. There were eyes all over his body, and when he closed his main pair, he could focus on other angles. From an eye on his leg, he observed his own anatomy while Jericho's tongue flicked over it. It was strange to watch, but it only made Abel more aroused.

Finally, after teasing for so long, Jericho prodded at Abel's entrance. Abel's back lifted in response, and the demon took it as an invitation to move further. He slid that dreadful tongue inside, exploring Abel's walls with it, earning himself a loud commotion of moans and whines and shaky whispers in the distinct shape of his name.

Abel could see nothing now, only feel as Jericho's tongue fucked in and out of him. It was a unique kind of pleasure, not dissimilar to when Jericho fucked him normally, but not the same either. It had Abel clutching at one of his horns with one hand and grasping at the sheets with the other. He thought he might tear a hole through the fabric.

His tongue went so deep, and the way it moved and licked at Abel's insides sounded so lewd. The noises Abel made changed from sharp gasps and moved into smooth, sensual, high-pitched moans. He begged Jericho for more and moved his hips to feel him better. He could feel his climax fast approaching.

"Close," he whined. Jericho gripped his legs and moved his tongue harder, quicker, pushing and pulling Abel's body to make it easier on himself.

Abel clenched around his tongue and cried out his name as a wave of pleasure enveloped him. It knocked his senses out of their places and made him useless in Jericho's hold. He didn't want it to stop.

"Keep going," Abel demanded, and the demon obeyed. Jericho's stamina was impressive, the way he brought him to yet another blissful orgasm. Even as he removed his tongue to taste the aftermath of Abel's pleasure, he licked at his clit again. He flicked his tongue over it until Abel erupted, and a mess was made of the both of them.

They carried on through the night until Abel was too dizzy to go on. They slept soundly on the floor, as the bed had become too soaked for comfort. Abel was still an angel in the morning, and they went again, more than once. On the floor, on the countertops, at one point Jericho even bent him over the table and fucked him until his legs gave out. Abel was addicted to it now, but more than that, he wanted to go back to normal. He needed to be rid of this power.

It wasn't working. It'd been a week, and he could still see the very molecules in the air if he focused. By now, it had become abundantly clear that nothing was going to change. That didn't mean Abel wasn't going to try.

Three weeks. That was all the time he had left to figure this out.

He found Jericho in the front room toying with a gadget, and he made his way to him with a seductive sway of his hips. He lowered himself into the demon's lap and Jericho set his project aside without question.

Jericho rested his hands on his hips, dark eyes glancing up at him from beneath his lashes. "You already want more?" he asked, stroking the skin of his waist.

Abel leaned down to work at his neck. "Mhm."

"I'm not complaining, but what's the occasion?"

Abel worked furiously at the buttons of Jericho's shirt, already grinding their hips together. He wasn't aroused, even though he wanted to be. He needed to be. "The occasion is that I want you." He sank his teeth into Jericho's neck, and the demon whimpered.

"Fuck, fuck, angel." He pushed Abel away, and a stream of black ichor trailing down Jericho's collarbone told him he'd gone too far. "Something is going on."

"Can you just shut up and help me?"

"Help you do what?" Abel moved his hands to his waistband. Jericho gripped his wrists and held them behind his back. "Whoa now, slow down, tiger. What's wrong?"

Abel fought against his restraint. "Just one more time," he pleaded. "It might work this time."

"Abel, stop."

His words came out forcefully enough that Abel finally ceased his wriggling. Even in his frustration, he knew that no meant no. He dropped his head. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Jericho told him and released his wrists. "I don't want to do anything with you unless it's what you want. I'm getting the feeling that isn't the case right now."

"Of course it is," Abel said. "I want you, and I want this power gone."

"But right now it's less about me, isn't it?"

Abel clamped his jaw shut and said nothing.

"I don't mind helping you," Jericho said, voice tender now. "But only if you want the pleasure just as much as you want a solution. At this point, there's no more pleasure in it."

Abel chewed his lip.

"I think it's time to give it up."

"No, it's not, I can still-"

"You can't, angel. There is nothing you can do to get rid of this. I'm sorry."

Abel wanted to scream. Jericho was right. He hated that he was right. He hated this.

"So I'm just going to die, then? And bring everyone down with me?"

"We can figure it out."

"No, we can't!" he cried. "Look at me!"

Abel stood up, gesturing to himself. To the massive wings that folded against the ceiling, to the halos above his head that alone lit up the room, to the thousands of eyes that only saw Jericho.

"Look at me, I can't hide it anymore. It's pointless, Malachi is bound to know I'm gone by now. They're going to find me, and they're going to take me away, and they're going to kill me no matter what I tell them because they are desperate. And it's going to mean nothing because the whole world is going to fucking collapse no matter what I do!"

Jericho stood up and took Abel's face in his hands. Every eye was crying, and he couldn't wipe all the tears away. He tried anyway. "Maybe it will. What are you going to do? If there is no solution to this, how would you rather end this?"

Abel sniffled. "I just want it to stop."

"I know you do. But if it never stops, if this really is the end of the world, would you rather die a martyr for a God that abused you? Or would you rather die knowing you chose your freedom?"

Ever since Abel walked into his father's room and found him painting the white walls red, he'd been running from death. He was terrified of it. He did everything he could to avoid it. At the time, it was because he feared Hell. But now, the thought of Hell wasn't so terrifying. At least he'd know where he was going.

He couldn't run away from death anymore. Death was three weeks away, and now all he could do was succumb to it.

More tears slipped down his cheeks. "I don't want either of those choices. If I have to die... I want to die trying to fix the mess I've made."

"You aren't responsible for this," Jericho said. "For any of this. You can't choose what you were born with, but you are well within your rights to choose your fate. This is the responsibility of a selfish God who is ashamed of what He has created."

Abel's first instinct was to defend Him. God is not ashamed, he wanted to say. He gave us agency and we have chosen sin, so now we must repent. He heard Malachi's voice in his head. Ours is a just God, and this is our trial.

For once, Abel shoved his indoctrination aside. He allowed himself to question as he often did when he was young. If God was so just, why did children have to suffer for the sins of their elders? Why did sacred beings have to die so that the children could live on, only to repeat the cycle of sacrificing their own?

This was no just God. He did not deserve Abel's purity, nor did he deserve the purity of anyone else.

If taking away His power meant allowing Him to destroy the only worshippers He had left, then so be it.

Abel steeled himself, meeting Jericho's eyes with blazing fire. "If I can't get rid of this power, maybe I can make it stronger. Maybe I can find a way to stop this myself."

Jericho knit his brow. "How are you going to make it stronger?"

"Do you still have that crucifix?"

"Um... I believe so. Why?"

"Find it," said Abel. "We're going to the Chapel."