BY : Mortifyd
Category: 1 through F > Brimstone
Dragon prints: 1542
Disclaimer: I do not own Brimstone, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Brimstone and Ezekiel Stone belong to other people with lawyers and stuff. The Devil, well, he only belongs to himself. Not making any profit, have nothing worth suing for, I put them back when I was finished with them. A dirty mind is a terrible thing to waste. If I had a real writing job, I would quit writing smut. Well, mostly... maybe... OK, probably not. The Devil made me do it.

Stone walked wearily back to his fleabag hotel, exhausted from the fight Father Salinas put up in the tunnels under New York. One down, 112 demons to go and he hadn't even been one of the truly dangerous ones according to the Boss. The odds had improved a fraction, but he was sure he'd get screwed in the end, he'd made a deal with the Devil after all. He climbed the stairs to his third floor room to find *him* sitting on the edge of the narrow bed.

"Hi honey! How was work?" he asked, a sly grin on his angular face. Stone just shook his head, a hint of a smile on his lips. I should have known he thought as he drew a hand through his hair, kicking the door closed behind him.

"You know, it was a hell of a day, I have to admit," Stone finally sighed, bringing a bark of laughter from his guest.

"Well, what did you expect exactly, Ezekie?" the Devil asked, rising from his perch. "You didn't think I was going to make it easy now, did you? Earning a chance to live again doesn't come cheap." He crossed his arms and cocked his head to one side, examining the hellcop. "You did manage to accomplish your first task though, so maybe a little positive reinforcement is in order." A slow smile crept across his face as a sinking feeling welled in Ezekiel's stomach.

"I don't recall that being part of the standard program downstairs," Stone replied as he stripped off his coat, flopped into the battered chair and closed his eyes. He was certain this wasn't going to be good, but he was too tired to care what the Devil had in mind. After fifteen years in Hell, it just didn't seem all that important. He knew it was going to suck no matter what it was called.

"Do you want another flying lesson, Ezekiel?" the Devil asked, eyes flashing. He took a moment to compose himself. "Your corporate analogy did get me thinking though, and happy workers produce results." He crossed the room slowly, his smile growing with Stone's discomfort. "I'm certain I have *just* the thing to put a smile on that face of yours." He stood before the slouched hellcop, waiting.

Stone opened his eyes. at dat do I get, a plaque?" he sighed. If this was what it was going to be like, he might as well go back to Hell right now. And I thought paperwork was a pain in the ass he thought as the Devil snatched a handful of sweater and jerked Stone to his feet.

"Enough!" The ash gray eyes bored into Stone's, a hint of ozone filled the space between them. "You are quite a piece of work, I must say." He released his grip on Stone's collar, tracing a slender finger up his neck and gripping his chin gently. "Such a handsome piece of work," he whispered, sending chills down the damned man's spine.

Ezekiel suddenly had great difficulty finding the air he didn't need to survive. THIS was something else entirely. He couldn't move, the gentle touch on his face somehow more terrifying than any of his previous Hellish experiences. The thought that had never crossed his mind consumed him.

"Now, now, you do belong to me after all, Ezekiel, *body* and soul." His other hand snaked around Stone's waist, trapping his minion in a close embrace. "You can relax and enjoy your bonus, or you can suffer through it, either way is fine by me." His hand slid from Stone's chin around his neck as he drew him into a chaste kiss, delighting in the emotions warring in the man's eyes and the tremors in his body.

Stone wanted to fight, needed to fight, even as he heard a moan escape from his betraying lips. A thousand images flashed in his head as he felt his body respond to the Devil's touch, his mouth open, their tongues danced slowly, tantalizingly. A spark lit within him, burning away any thought but his need for contact. He never expected to feel desire again, much less a desire for what was in appearance at any rate, a man, but gave himself to the sensations as terror transformed into submission.

Stone found himself clinging to the Devil like a drowning man, the angelic script that covered him burning, driving him to seek relief in Hellish kisses and caresses. Ezekiel buried his face in the Devil's hair, breathing in his dark and promisingly earthy scent. His hands roamed gingerly, exploring the planes of muscle beneath the silk shirt, his lips trailing kisses over his lover's neck and jawline, only to be captured again in a deep, lingering kiss.

"There's oy, oy, I knew you'd see it my way." A firm hand cupped Stone's shoulder from behind, urging him to his knees as the other tugged at his sweater. Ezekiel slowly knelt, trailing his hands over the Devil's ass and thighs before dragging the sweater over his head, eager for more. He buried his face in his master's crotch, rubbing and moaning against the tented fabric, his breath ragged gasps of anticipation.

The Devil leered down at his prize possession, pleased by Ezekiel's dramatic change in attitude. "What do you need, Ezekiel?" he asked softly, stroking the dead man's hair as he groveled before him. "I want to hear you say it for me." He pulled Stone's hair, forcing him to meet his eyes. "Tell me. NOW."

"I..." the words seemed caught in his throat, his eyes wide with need and lust. "" he managed at last, staring into eyes older than the world. The hand released it's stranglehold on his scalp, caressing once more. Encouraged, he spoke again, softly. "I want....please...I need..." his voice and body shaking as one, unsure exactly what he was offering, but beyond caring.

His shaking hands began to undo the Devil's trousers, almost of their own accord. Ezekiel moaned, biting his lower lip as he struggled with the zipper, trembling with the need to taste, to smell, to serve. His efforts were rewarded as the trousers fell away from the Devil's slender hips, revealing his well proportioned member. Ezekiel simply stared at first, having never been that close to another man. He took a deep breath to steady his damned heart, then slowly began to lick the Devil's inner thigh.

The Devil watched with rapt attention as Stone's tongue darted from his lips, leaving cool wet trails on heated flesh, exploring, tasting, testing. He moaned as Ezekiel sucked at the joint of his thigh, then slowly licked up the shaft of his cock. Stone licked his way to the glistening head, then took it in his mouth with a moan of his own.

It wasn't heaven, but it was closer than Stone had been in fifteen years. He was surprised by the silky feel of the Devil's hardness in his mouth, the sulfur musk taste of him and his own desire. He began to suckle slowly, running his tongue around the sensitive head, teasing the slit with his tongue, shivering at the taste of the precum that slid down his throat. He vaguely felt the hands in his hair urging him forward, but he needed no encouragement, only assurance.

As Stone began to rock on his knees, the Devil sighed softly, hands clutching spasmodically in the damned man's hair. He wanted to take, to force, but the sweetness of Ezekiel's submission held his urgency in check. He watched as Stone lost himself in the act, eyes closed, his sensual mouth working with growing skill. A shiver went up his spine as the hell cops hands explored the body he projected, throaty moans accompanied the discoveries of questing fingers. He groaned in response as cool fingers cupped his sac, drawing him forward into Stone's blissfully cool mouth, tears leaking down the dead man's face as he took the Devil to the root.

Stone was lost, blinded with need and unaware of anything but slaking the burn in his flesh. His senses were consumed by the sheer presence of the man before him, arousal tinged with ozone, hot electric flesh that burned his throat as he rocked and swallowed, seeking relief. He felt as much as heard his name whispered as the Devil began to thrust urgently, all restraint dissolved in the raw flesh of his throat. A rumble of thunder drowned his sobs as waves of sulfured cum flooded his mouth, soothing the urgency of the burn in him as he swallowed, but not quenching it.

Strong hands lifted him to his feet, steering him to the narrow bed where he collapsed, panting and achingly hard. He heard the whisper of cloth, then the creak of the springs as the Devil sat on the edge of the bed. Stone drifted as warm hands undressed him, stroking his flesh as it was bared, kisses applied to every exposed mark made him burn as before.

"My Ezekiel," the Devil sighed, running a hand down Stone's chest before leaning in to kiss the man's forehead gently. He drew back as Stone opened eyes hazy with pleasure and lust, then kissed him again, savoring the taste of himself in the other man's mouth, the openness of his responses.

Stone wrapped his arms around his lover, drawing him in, begging with his eyes. "Don't leave me like this," he whispered as hot kisses were applied to his cheeks. "Please!" He whimpered in his throat as the Devil slid on top of him, crying out as their hardness collided, the friction of sweat soaked flesh almost unbearable. He writhed under the weight of the other man, grinding his hips, kissing blindly whatever flesh he could reach, aching for release.

"Not yet, not yet little one," the Devil whispered softly in his ear. "There's more I want to show you." He slipped his knees between Ezekiel's thighs, then pushed himself up to sit on his heels, gazing down at the man spread before him. "Who knew you were such a slut, Ezekie?" he asked with a laugh in his voice, absently stroking Stone's inner thigh. He winked and licked his lips, keeping eye contact as he bent forward and licked the head of Stone's weeping cock.

Ezekiel's body was covered with gooseflesh, every nerve at the breaking point as he watched the Devil go down on him. He was beyond sound, gasping like a fish out of water, his hands clutching at the rough blanket beneath his squirming ass. Harsh gasps and wet moans echoed timeless in the neon glow of the tiny room, the hellish red glow somehow softening the Devil's features as he teased and sucked rock hard flesh.

He felt Stone's orgasm building and regretfully pulled away, catching Ezekiel's hands with his own as he reached for himself. "Not yet little one," he said, "patience is a virtue I still possess." He chuckled at the palpable need in the room and admired the results of his work. Stone lay open before him, his cock against his belly, the light dusting of hair darkened with sweaty curls, eyes bright with longing, their fingers interlocked. He drew the man to a sitting position and kissed him deeply, releasing his hands.

"Turn over, Ezekiel." It was a command gently given, but there was no question it would be obeyed. Stone pulled himself togetherkilykily, turning on hands and knees that could barely support him, wincing at the loud protest of springs under the thin mattress. He moaned and nearly collapsed as the Devil's tongue snaked out, leaving a hot wet trail up his lower back, the arm around his waist keeping him upright when his shaking limbs betrayed him.

Fiery kisses rained on his back as warm, slick fingers caressed his ass, kneading and groping the tensesclescles, a thumb occasionally teasing the heated flesh between his balls and anus. He fell forward onto his face, rocking his ass back against the hand that teased him, aching for more contact as the kisses became bites, cool teeth and hot tongue on his cheeks, his thighs, his balls. A wavering moan escaped his lips as wet mouth slid across his opening, sucking at the sweat running between his ass cheeks, prodding him with pleasure he never imagined. His cheeks were pulled apart and the Devil's tongue bored into him, stoking the fire in his belly as it opened him, the smooth muscle spasming even as it welcomed the intrusion.

"Please, oh please," Ezekiel begged, working his hips against the tongue that fucked him slowly, tantalizingly, but always denying him the release he needed to stay sane. Waves of sensations he couldn't name washed over him as he struggled to cum, rising and ebbing in timeless rhythm on the shores of his damned soul. He whimpered at a sudden loss of contact, then groaned as he felt the Devil's hardness slide between his cheeks, heavy balls brushing against his own as he was thrust against, still denied the possession he now craved.

"What do you want, Ezekiel?" the Devil's voice a tight whisper. "What do you need from me?" He sighed gently, nuzzling into the prone man's neck as he thrust his hips slowly, sliding his cock between sweat and spittle drenched cheeks, savoring the coolness of quasi-human flesh and the anxious thrusts to meet him. He pushed again, then held Stone's quivering body against him, forbidding any movement. "Tell me what you want, and I'll give it to you, Ezekiel. Otherwise, I have work to do."

"No! Please!" Stone struggled in the iron grasp desperately. "Take me," he whispered into the charged, night air. "Please, I'm begging you." Sobs wracked his body as he whispered between gasps, "Take me. Please!"

"Yes, yes, Ezekiel," he replied, loosening his hold on the sobbing man, kissing him gently on the neck, breathing him in. He adjusted himself slowly, teasing Stone's slick opening with his cock as he tried to back onto him. Finally he relented, moaning "My Ezekiel," as he took the damned man's willing flesh, pressing slowly, gently as Stone bucked beneath him trying to adjust to penetration.

Ezekiel's sobs of need competed with soft, throaty whimpers as the Devil impaled him, time stretched beyond any recognizable measure as he was filled, completed. There were no words he could grasp as his body jerked, no way to describe the sensations that flooded his core, though his mouth babbled "Yes! Oh yesss," and his cock throbbed between his legs, his sweat slick skin afire.

The Devil set a lazy pace, thoroughly fucking Stone's ass; the slow, deep thrusts driving the man beyond any thought bosseossession. Ezekiel worked against his body, meeting each thrust and grinding against it, making inarticulate throaty cries as hock ock massaged the frantic man's prostate. The damned man's writhing passion brought him closer to his own release, and he increased the pressure, pinning the man to the bed with the power of his thrusts. The helpless form quivering and jerking beneath him was too much, a few urgent thrusts and he was soaring, Ezekiel thrashing around his spurting cock, lost in hin ren release and the molten heat that filled him.

They lie still at last, their mingled breath sounds rasping against the thin walls, bathed in neon glow and the sounds of a city that never sleeps, car sounds competing with the chuckling flutter of pigeons stirring in the predawn morning. The Devil raised himself slowly, sighing as his softening cock slipped from Stone's cooling, sulfur-salt crusted flesh. He rose to his feet, then knelt beside the bed making soothing noises as he rubbed a hand gently against the weeping man's back.

"Sshh, my sweet Ezekiel, hush..." he whispered, gathering the man to him gently as he tugged the covers back, then settled him back in the bed, tucking him in and kissing the tear streaked face. "I'm going now, get some rest. Your brothers and sisters are still out there Stone and I'm counting on you," he said quietly, tracing the tear streaks then bringing the saline soaked finger to his lips. "Bring them back to my tender care, Ezekiel." He kissed the prone figure once more. His clothes materialized around him as he rose to his feet, then disappeared, leaving Stone to his own thoughts as the sky lightened with another day.

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