by Jane Kindred
“I have no idea what twenty-eight looks like, Belphagor. I’m just taking a random guess.”
“Well, you’re close enough. Now please, for the love of Heaven, cover that sweet ass before I go mad.”
Vasily shook his head and picked up the white cotton underwear and stepped into them, sliding them up over his generous cock and glancing in over the waistband like he was trying to see if it would fit inside. Belphagor observed him standing by the bed in the tighty-whities and turtleneck and concluded he was hopelessly smitten. He gave his rising cock a stern mental warning.
Vasily pulled on a pair of American jeans that were apparently washed with acid. It seemed a strange thing to advertise, but they looked quite nice on Vasily. Belphagor had remembered his dimensions well.
“Thanks,” said Vasily, tucking his hands into the pockets. “I was getting a little tired of being Naked Boy.”
Belphagor raised his eyebrow, enjoying the slightly painful tug of his new adornment. “And you say I’m weird.”
Vasily caught the glint of it. “What is that?” He stepped forward and ran his finger over Belphagor’s eyebrow to the spiked barbell protruding from it.
“Do you like it?”
“I don’t know. Did it hurt?”
“A bit.”
Vasily brushed his thumb along one of the spikes, letting it linger, but said nothing more. Belphagor was pleased with the reaction.
Vasily was reserved with Dmitri and Lev when they got home from what Lev called “the day jobs”. Belphagor asked him with amusement what his evening job was, and Lev smirked, teasing him with the first blin of the batch he was making—the “ugly blin”, he called it, as the first always was—popping a piece of it into Belphagor’s mouth with a wink.
Belphagor could feel Vasily’s glare boring into him from across the room, but he continued flirting with Lev at the counter, annoyed that Vasily was taking it so seriously. He was used to giving attention to pretty young men and enjoying the way they responded to him. It was nothing more than that, and he wasn’t about to change who he was for Vasily just because he imagined it meant something more.
Vasily was even more reserved after that.
Dmitri seemed awkward in the face of Vasily’s quietness, and Belphagor knew he was wondering if they hadn’t taken advantage of Vasily’s high spirits from the earthly vodka and whether he was regretting it the day after, but Belphagor knew that wasn’t the case. What Vasily was doing was sulking.
He deliberately ignored Vasily during the dinner conversation, irritated that Dmitri had gone outside his own comfort zone to please Belphagor and had hoped to please Vasily as someone Belphagor cared for, but was now being made to feel as if he’d participated in something unseemly against Vasily’s will. He’d negotiated with Dmitri and Lev extensively while Vasily had been recuperating, making sure everyone would be comfortable with what happened and that no one felt pressured to do anything. The tension Vasily was stirring up with his behavior was tearing all of that careful and considerate planning down.
By the end of the evening, Belphagor was so livid that when Vasily made a flippant comment about going to bed alone, he snapped at him and told him to do it. Vasily stared at him quietly and then rose without a word and went into the guestroom.
Belphagor sighed and apologized to his hosts. “Sorry. I thought he could handle it. I know he enjoyed everything we did, but he can be a bit self-absorbed.”
“Don’t worry about it,” said Lev, but Dmitri frowned.
“Maybe we owe him an apology for putting him on the spot. We all knew what was going to happen, and he didn’t.”
Belphagor scowled, taking his cigar tin from his pocket and lighting one in the conventional manner. “He doesn’t need to know everything I have planned. He needs to trust me.”
“Don’t you think you’re being a little controlling with him?”
Belphagor smiled, offering a cigar to each of them. “I know my kind of sexual power play isn’t to your taste, Dmitri, but believe me, it is to Vasily’s. Nothing happened last night that he wasn’t absolutely into. We’d talked about my watching him with someone else before. And you saw him.” He grinned at Dmitri. “He was having a fantastic time.”
“Did he say anything this morning about feeling uncomfortable about it?”
“Not a word. He was in a great mood until you two came home, and then he just clammed up.”
“Maybe he’s just shy,” said Lev.
“Shy?” Belphagor blew out a puff of smoke with a laugh. “He’s anything but shy. He’s been working the street since he was too young to be doing it, and I’ve seen him with all kinds of demons—and angels—preening as the center of attention. He’s probably sulking because he wasn’t any longer.”
Lev smiled. “Just because he’s good at putting on a show for men who are paying him doesn’t mean he isn’t shy. That’s the sense I was getting, that he felt awkward with our conversation, not with what happened last night. You and Dmitri are old friends and know the world of Man intimately, and you and I…” He grinned. “Well, we kind of naturally hit it off. He probably feels like an outsider. He’s never fallen before, and the only person he knows in the world is you.”
Belphagor rolled his cigar between his fingers. “I suppose I hadn’t thought of it that way. I don’t know why he can’t just be friendly, though. You’re both being perfectly friendly to him—and you were extremely friendly to him last night.” He gave Lev a mischievous smile. “I can’t think of a better way to break the ice and get to know a demon than to strip down and suck each other’s cocks.”
Dmitri laughed. “You have your own unique way of looking at things, Belphagor. It’s not actually entirely necessary to fuck a demon to get to know him.”
Belphagor gave him a mock look of dismay. “How in the world else would you?”
“I’m with Bel.” Lev winked at him. “I’m not even sure we’ve been properly introduced. Who are you again?”
“It’s only polite,” said Belphagor with a grin. “You meet someone for the time, you say hello, and then you drop trou and bend him over and give him a nice ‘pleased to meet you’ with a considerate reach-around.”
Lev laughed. “Yes, the considerate reach-around is key. It’s the ‘how do you do?’” The three of them dissolved into laughter, but Lev went on after a moment more seriously. “But to be fair, Bel, I don’t know if you understand what being introverted is if you think all Vasily has to do is be friendly to feel comfortable. You wouldn’t know it from our interactions, but I’m not exactly wildly extroverted myself. Growing up as the only demon in your neighborhood and not even knowing another demon makes for a bit of an awkward adolescence. I don’t normally get on with anyone I’ve just met the way I do with you. There’s nothing that makes me feel more of an outcast than being around people I don’t know who are all getting along, and trying to think of something conversational to say to join in. Don’t be too hard on Vasily for being quiet.”
“As long as that’s really all it is,” added Dmitri. “Just ease my mind a bit, if you would, Bel, and ask him if he was okay with everything last night. And tell him we really enjoyed…getting to know him.”
Lev snickered.
Belphagor stubbed out his cigar on his plate. “I promise you, he’s just being sullen to get my attention. But I’ll talk to him and make sure it’s nothing else.” He sighed and stood up. “Thank you for another wonderful meal, Lev. Your blini are, if I may say, Heavenly.”
Lev batted his eyelashes. “Why, you flatterer.”
Belphagor blew them both a kiss and said good night.
Vasily pretended to be asleep when Belphagor finally deigned to join him, lying on his side beneath the blankets, turned toward the wall.
Belphagor spoke from just inside the doorway, obviously not falling for the ruse. “I got you something else at the market today, but if you’re determined to be rude, maybe I’ll just take it back.”
“I’m rude?” Vasily t
urned on him, eyes hot with fire. “You didn’t say a word to me all night, and you practically fucked Lev right in front of me on the dinner table.”
“Don’t be absurd. If I had wanted to fuck Lev in front of you, I’d have gone ahead and done it.”
“Is that why you wanted to watch someone fuck me? So I wouldn’t be able to object while you fuck the entire world of Man?”
Belphagor sighed, his crossed arms rising over his chest. “Your penchant for hyperbole is becoming a tad tiresome.” Belphagor’s deliberate use of angelic words Vasily didn’t know, coupled with his blithe conversations with Dmitri and Lev in Russian that left Vasily scrambling to understand, had reached a point where Belphagor had to be doing it on purpose to humiliate him.
“You might as well just keep talking over my head in your precious russkiy yazyk, because I didn’t understand ONE FUCKING WORD of that sentence!” The words burst out of him, and to his horror, hot tears burst out with them.
Belphagor frowned at him. “Come over here.”
Vasily wanted to refuse, but if they had a fight, he had nowhere to go. And if they had a fight that turned into Belphagor showing Vasily that he owned him, body and soul, with Vasily on his knees or all fours or bent over the footboard admitting that he wanted nothing more than what Belphagor was dishing out, Dmitri and Lev would hear it.
He forced himself to control his emotions and got out of bed to stand in front of Belphagor. Despite his resolve, he flinched when Belphagor reached to grab ahold of his hair as he so often did to bring Vasily down to his height. Unexpectedly, Belphagor gripped the back of his neck instead and drew him into his arms.
“Malchik.” His voice was soft. “Have I made you feel stupid?” Vasily stood stiffly in Belphagor’s arms, uncertain how to respond to this. Was it some kind of trick? “It wasn’t my intention. I never want you to feel that way. I forget you don’t know Russian fluently—and I forget I’m speaking it when I’m here. And I’m used to having a different level of discourse—conversation—when I’m here than in Raqia.”
“So you dumb it down for me,” snapped Vasily, still resisting him. “And I know what ‘discourse’ is, you bastard.”
Belphagor held him away so he had to look him in the eye. “I don’t dumb it down for you. Okay, maybe I did just now, because I was self-conscious of my word choice. But it’s the difference between the spheres. Raqia is in a different age. Its concerns are different. The only opportunities most Raqia demons have for education are serving in an angelic household and trying their damnedest to pick up what they can. That doesn’t make Raqians stupid. But it makes my interactions in the celestial sphere literally a world away from this.” He ran his hand down the side of Vasily’s face and held it there. “I didn’t mean to leave you out of the conversation. I’m sorry.”
Vasily wanted to jerk his head away from Belphagor’s hand, but instead he found himself nuzzling against it, eyes closed to keep from seeing the tender look in Belphagor’s that threatened to loose more tears from his. As soon as Vasily relaxed into his touch, Belphagor clamped both hands against the sides of his head and pressed him down to his knees in a viselike grip.
“Keep your eyes closed,” he ordered. “I have something for you.”
Vasily felt his cock stiffen, certain Belphagor was going to open his pants and stick his own in Vasily’s mouth. The rattle of Belphagor’s belt seemed to confirm this, and Vasily’s breath quickened along with his heartbeat as anger and desire blended together inside him in the way only Belphagor could do to him—in the way he’d never known he needed as much as the air he breathed until Belphagor had done it to him.
He felt Belphagor’s thumb against his mouth, and he opened reflexively, and Belphagor slipped the thumb inside. Vasily sucked on it, anticipating its replacement. But the sensation he was expecting never came.
Belphagor withdrew his thumb and pinched the side of his neck just below the jaw, and something sharp stabbed swiftly through the pinched bit of skin.
Vasily cried out in surprise and fear and opened his eyes. Belphagor smiled at him with the dark edge Vasily loved, but he pressed his thumb once more against Vasily’s lower lip, and Vasily licked at it and tasted blood.
“What did you do?” Vasily’s voice came out ragged. He was genuinely scared.
“Shhh, malchik. Trust me. Hold still.” Belphagor took something from his pocket and pulled on the sharp thing still piercing Vasily’s skin. “It’s a needle,” he said, as if he thought that would calm Vasily.
Something else passed through Vasily’s skin, and he trembled, wondering if Belphagor had gone mad and decided to torture him. More tugging ensued while Belphagor fiddled with the needle in Vasily’s flesh, and Vasily let out an involuntary moan.
Belphagor looked at him, his sharp eyes darting to Vasily’s crotch. “You’re scared to death—and it’s turning you on.”
“Beli,” Vasily breathed, another tear slipping out as he realized he’d let Belphagor do anything to him. Anything at all.
“It’s all done, sweet boy.” Belphagor held his palm open, revealing a short, thick needle that had no eye, tipped with Vasily’s blood. “I took the needle out.”
But he still felt something. Belphagor made the needle disappear somewhere with a flourish and took Vasily’s hands, drawing him to his feet.
“Turn,” he said, and pivoted Vasily about to face a mirror on the opposite wall.
Vasily put his hand to the side of his neck in surprise, feeling the odd, sharp thing piercing his skin. “What?” He stepped forward, forgetting he was Belphagor’s to do with as he pleased, and moved close to the mirror. A bar of steel like the one in Belphagor’s eyebrow, only thicker, decorated his flesh, capped with sharp spikes.
Belphagor came up behind him and kissed his neck, licking gently around the jewelry. “Do you want to know what this is, my lovely boy?” Vasily nodded, eyes on him in the mirror. “This is my mark. It says you’re mine, that I own you so completely you’ll submit to whatever whim takes me.” Vasily bit his lip. It was exactly what he’d been thinking. “It also marks a year that you’ve been with me. It’s a birthday present of sorts. And every year that you belong to me, you’ll get another.”
Vasily brushed his fingers over it. Beneath his rough beard, it seemed to make him look older. And a bit dangerous. “Spasibo, ser,” he whispered.
Belphagor turned him about and brought his head down to kiss him, fingering the decoration so that it tugged a little painfully, and Vasily moaned into his mouth.
“Did I hurt you?” whispered Belphagor.
“Da ser.”
“Did you want me to?”
It took a moment for Vasily to find his voice. “Da, ser.”
“And last night, while I ordered another demon to fuck your ass and made you suck a demon’s cock for me…did you want that?”
Vasily closed his eyes. “Da, ser,” he breathed.
Belphagor was silent for a moment, and then his arms tightened around Vasily’s waist. “Do you want my cock in your ass now so you remember whose cock owns you?”
“Da ser,” Vasily rasped. “Pozhaluista.”
Belphagor turned him swiftly, unfastening Vasily’s pants, and pulled them down along with his new white underwear as he pushed Vasily onto his knees in front of the bed. Vasily heard the jangle of the belt buckle snapping open as Belphagor pushed him facedown against the mattress with his other hand.
From somewhere, Belphagor had palmed his favorite oil again. He entered Vasily, thrusting insistently through the tight hole, and filled him as deeply as he could. Vasily groaned and shuddered under the rapid pumping of Belphagor’s hips as he banged against him, digging his nails into the bed sheet, trying not to come as his cock rubbed against the edge of the bed with the force of Belphagor’s thrusts. It was no use. The ritual piercing had already brought him to the brink, and he cried out into the blankets to muffle the sound as his cock jerked and spurted into the sheets while Belphagor fucked him even harder.
When Vasily’s own hips stopped thrusting and his cock relaxed, Belphagor leaned across his back and licked the piercing once more, thrusting slowly and steadily inside him. “Will you be my sweet boy always?” he whispered.
“Yes,” Vasily gasped and then remembered, muddy-headed with the glow of release, to say, “Da, ser,” just as Belphagor began to thrust hard and fast, groaning loudly, and shot into Vasily’s ass.
Belphagor lay panting against him as his orgasm died down, arms encircling him. “Good boy,” he crooned and kissed the site of the piercing. “Sladostnyi malchik moi.” This meant “sweet boy of mine,” but to Vasily it sounded like “I love you”—or at least as close to it as he was likely to get.
Desyataya
Belphagor was excited to show Vasily Moscow. It wasn’t his usual stomping grounds when he came to the world of Man; he’d spent far more time in Leningrad, and it was where he’d intended to go before Vasily’s illness had necessitated more immediate lodging. But where Leningrad was uncannily familiar in its resemblance to Elysium, Moscow was completely otherworldly.
He had to warn Vasily against physical affection—or even closeness—on the streets. Raqia wasn’t exactly accepting of relations between two men, but such behavior wasn’t considered shocking or immoral, merely looked down upon as somewhat seedy and indulgent, like frequenting prostitutes. In this corner of the world of Man, at least, it was not only illegal, it could get you killed.
Vasily was baffled. “You can’t even do it for pay?”
“Oh, the trade exists here,” Belphagor assured him. “But outside the law. All prostitution is illegal.”
“That doesn’t even make sense,” Vasily exclaimed. “How do you make compensating someone for their skills and services illegal? Everybody just has to give it up for free to any jackass who wants it?”
Belphagor smiled indulgently as he helped Vasily on with his new coat. “The law doesn’t say you have to give it up. You just can’t get paid.”
“Well, I hate that law. And the other one too.”