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When Simeon suggests to Michael that you be given your own room in the Celestial Realm, he wholeheartedly agrees. You’ve spent many afternoons visiting your friends there, but you leave far too soon for everyone’s liking. Luke doesn’t try to hide his disappointment when he has to say goodbye to you only hours after your arrival. Simeon’s peaceful countenance turns bitter when he watches you pass through the Celestial gates, and Michael wishes he had more time to get to know you properly.
You move freely between the three realms now. You often stay in the Devildom for days, sometimes weeks at a time. It seems logical (and convenient) that the Celestial Realm offers you that same comfort.
Michael acknowledges your importance and gives you the empty guest chambers next to his own. It’s a lavish gesture, but he believes it’s fitting for someone of your importance. You’re the rare human that managed to instill hope for a peaceful future between the three realms. You charmed his fallen brothers in the Devildom and brought that menace of a sorcerer to heel. Michael can’t even express how much Luke has grown thanks to your influence, and Simeon seems to have found his path once more with your guidance.
Michael furnishes the room himself and makes sure that it has anything you could possibly want. It has a private bathroom so you don’t have to share the communal showers with the other angels. He even has the wardrobe filled with garments fashioned in the style of the Celestial Realm and hopes you’ll choose to wear them.
He makes these gestures of appreciation so you know you can consider the Celestial Realm another place to call home. He believes he’s honoring your efforts and helping to foster long-term friendships with the angels of his realm. After all, he wants nothing more than your happiness. He ignores the way his heart clenches when he sees you using the gifts he’s given you.
The day Michael catches you and Simeon being intimate together, the lies he tells himself about his purely platonic feelings for you start to crumble.
Many beautiful gardens grow in the Celestial Realm. Some are designated for vegetables and fruit trees while others are filled with the rare, colourful flowers that can only bloom in the realm of eternal light. Some of the gardens have paved pathways where angels can stroll at their leisure.
Michael’s garden is a small grove filled with wildflowers and willow trees. It’s near the back of the Celestial Halls where his chambers are, and very few angels bother to travel that far into the garden. It’s not officially his garden but sometimes when he takes a book there to read, or he simply leans against a tree to meditate, it feels like his own private space.
He heads to his garden one afternoon with a book tucked under his arm. You’ve been in the Celestial Realm for a few days and you seem to be adjusting well. Luke has been a near-constant presence by your side, and Simeon is usually not far behind. The other angels are warming up to you despite some of their initial concerns or suspicions about your loyalties. Michael reassures them that you should be considered a friend to angels, the same way the Devildom considers you a trusted friend to their prince and his fallen brothers.
It never occurred to Michael that you might be more than a friend to anyone in the Celestial Realm until he stumbles upon you and Simeon together. He ducks behind a tree and the faint sounds he hears on the wind don’t stop; neither of you seem to be aware of his presence. He tells himself he should leave as quickly as he can and pretend he didn’t see a thing. He’s not sure what invisible power keeps him paralyzed behind that tree, listening to your soft moans and sighs as Simeon’s lips and hands explore your body. You’re both laying underneath his favourite willow tree on a bed of flowers, and it seems so romantic—so why does he feel so much bitterness in his heart?
Is it because you lay with Simeon, one of the most slippery angels he’s ever known? Is it because Simeon’s hands push aside the soft, delicate clothes Michael gave you so he can touch the bare skin underneath? Is it because it’s Simeon’s name falling from your lips when his sinful fingers bring you so much pleasure you can’t silence your cries?
Simeon’s whispers and your delightful moans eventually fade on the wind and Michael panics. He worries that you’ll both walk this way and find him rooted in place behind a tree, sweat trickling down his brow and the front of his robes tented by his aching erection. He’s on the verge of prayer when luck looks favourably on him; Simeon leads you in the other direction that will take you both close to his room—and yours.
Minutes pass by and you must be inside the Celestial Halls by now—perhaps Simeon has stripped you down properly and laid you down on your bed, kneeling between your legs to touch you even more—but Michael can’t bring himself to move. His book lay on the ground at his feet where it slipped from his grasp. The sweat dotting his forehead and the back of his neck makes his skin feel tacky, but he doesn’t care. He tries to ignore the growing need buried deep inside him, and only when his cock softens—despite the way it still twitches when he thinks of you and the sounds you make, and your musky scent carried on a summer breeze—does he finally leave.
Michael avoids his room completely and hides in the restricted section of the Celestial Library, hoping the solace will soothe his troubled mind. He makes his excuses to Luke when the young angel sends him a message inquiring about his whereabouts. He skipped dinner feigning some lengthy task he had to take care of—he’s not hungry anyway. He has other insatiable appetites tonight.
He contemplates his predicament in the oldest part of the library where only the highest ranking angels are permitted to enter. He decides that his interest in you is simply a passing fancy. He tries not to ruminate about what drew you and Simeon together, or what he could’ve done to prevent it.
Looking through his memories of the past few days, he can see hints of the true nature of your relationship: the shy, subtle glances you shared, the way Simeon stood closer to you than socially appropriate, the way you said his name with more fondness than anyone else’s. He’s grateful for your discretion and blames poor luck that led him to the garden at that most inopportune time. He’s certain no one else would have found you there. He can’t fault either of you for that, no matter how much he might want to.
It’s late when Michael finally leaves his tormented sanctuary and retires to his room for the night. The Celestial Halls are darker now so that the angels (and you) can sleep comfortably. Your bedroom door is closed when he walks past it to his own room. He shrugs off his robes with a tired sigh and nearly falls into bed. He’s exhausted, and he closes his eyes and thinks about embarking on new beginnings tomorrow.
He meditates so that he can unburden himself with torturous thoughts of you and accept your friendship with grace. He doesn’t want guilt to ruin what you’re building there, and if you’re truly content with—with someone that’s not him, he can accept it. He’s Michael, and he won’t be brought to his knees by something as insignificant as lust. He’s better than that. He’s—
A whimper on the other side of the wall reaches his ears, and his brittle resolve cracks. He’s already hard under the sheets, and when he concentrates, he can hear the noises you and Simeon are making: the shuffle of your bedsheets, the wet, squelching noise your bodies make together, the rhythmic creaking of your bed in time with his thrusts.
Michael feels possessed when he slides off the edge of his bed and walks over to the shared wall that connects his room to yours. He presses his ear to the cool surface and nearly groans deep in his chest when he can hear you even clearer this way. You moan Simeon’s name but it’s muffled, like you’re burying your face against his skin—or in the pillow, laying face-down while he fucks you from behind. Simeon pants your name too as his pace quickens, and the rocking noise your bed makes grows louder.
If it were anyone else but you, Michael thinks he could go back to bed and roll over and pretend he didn’t hear a thing. But he can’t, because it is you. He wraps his hand around his cock and starts stroking himself in time with your muffled whines and stuttered whimpers for more. His pace is fast and desperate, and he spreads his precum along his shaft to smooth the glide. He wishes he could be fucking you instead; your body would feel better than his hand ever could.
He leans his arm against the wall and buries his face against it to smother his own noises. He bites his lip to stifle his moans and to prevent himself from uttering your name in desperation. He gasps from the white-hot pleasure coursing through his veins and he knows he’s close, but he slows his pace because he doesn’t want to come before you do.
When he finally hears your high-pitched moan followed by a loud cry, he pumps his cock and groans into his arm as his release covers his hand and the wall in front of him. He milks himself dry until it feels like he can’t breathe and he’s about to split open at the seams. He stumbles backwards and falls back on the bed, and he takes gulping breaths as his heart races. He’s hot and his skin is sweaty and his hands are covered in the proof of his sins.
The mattress next door creaks, and feet pad softly on the carpet. Someone runs the tap in your ensuite bathroom and Michael pictures Simeon washing you with reverence. You whisper quietly to each other but he can’t make out the words over the pounding of his heart.
Michael gets up to clean himself when he’s certain you’re both asleep and finished for the night. He remembers the streaks of cum on his wall he has to clean too. He washes away the evidence of his perversion and wonders how carnal temptation got the better of him.
Perhaps he should return you to the Devildom, or at least offer to give you a more comfortable room elsewhere. There are other rooms you can use that are far away from his, where he won’t be able to hear one of his angels touch you with his hands and fuck you with his cock.
When Michael finally goes to bed, he knows he’s too weak to send you away. While he waits for sleep to claim him, he wonders how long he’ll have to wait before he can listen to you again.
Simeon suspects Michael’s affections for you from the very beginning. Even as an honoured guest of the Celestial Realm, you’re given more freedom and gifts than he expected. Simeon said nothing—he was too delighted by your presence at his side to be bothered by whatever Michael was up to.
You both agreed to be discreet about your relationship. Angels might not abstain from physical intimacy the way humans believe they do, but you were concerned that any negative attention from Michael might complicate things. Simeon agreed, if only to ease your troubled mind; Michael would learn the truth eventually, and he could do nothing about it when he did.
Simeon doesn’t expect Michael’s behaviour towards you to change so drastically the night he discovered you together. Simeon wasn’t sure if the muffled groan he heard through the wall was his imagination. It lasted for only a brief moment, and you didn’t hear the noise at all. It would’ve been easy for Simeon to forget it if it wasn’t for the increasingly affectionate way Michael started to treat you after.
Michael started following you both like a shadow. He justified his presence, of course—offering to show you parts of the realm you haven’t visited yet, teaching you history not taught in the Devildom—things that he knew you enjoyed, and your enthusiasm encouraged him even more.
The kitchens start preparing human world dishes with your recommendations, and Michael brings daily gifts to your room: a plate of his favourite pastries, a tin of Celestial Realm tea, vases filled with the most gorgeous flowers. He invites you to have tea in his private garden after he sends Simeon on some mundane task to distract him.
There are times that Simeon’s desire for you can’t wait until the nightfall to be sated, and you sneak private moments of intimacy together. Michael’s gaze lingers on your kiss-swollen lips when he conveniently finds you both shortly after. Sometimes he sniffs and pretends to have a runny nose while you search your pockets and hand him a tissue. Michael smiles at your thoughtfulness but Simeon knows he’s smiling because he caught the scent of your arousal in the air; it pleases Michael’s senses as much as it does Simeon’s.
When you make love in your room at night, Simeon knows Michael is listening. He has the same enhanced senses that Michael does; if Michael can hear you, then Simeon can hear him. To Michael’s credit, he tries to be quiet—and he’s more successful than that first night—but there’s only so much you can do to hide the sound of noisy bed springs and choked-off groans.
Simeon isn’t sure he can convince you to spend nights in his smaller, less comfortable room. He thinks about saying something to Michael on your behalf since it’s your privacy he’s concerned about; he hardly cares what Michael thinks of him now. But based on the way you react to the archangel’s presence, Simeon wonders how bothered you’d really be if you knew what he’s doing.
Simon notices that your cheeks flush from Michael’s praise and attention. He also knows your heartbeat stutters when Michael dares to step a bit too close to you. The rare occasions when Michael has touched you—a hand on your shoulder or your back to guide you, a simple embrace, even—your body trembled with excitement long after Michael walked away.
Simeon remembers the way you stared at Michael’s bare chest one afternoon when you both saw him on the training grounds. The angels often tease Michael for growing soft due to his love of sweets, but his broad shoulders and chest still flex impressively when he wields his weapon. His movements are slow and calculated, and his blows are decisive and deadly.
You told Simeon after that he reminded you of Beel: he was a gentle giant, a hulking defender equally capable of great strength and kindness. Unfortunately for Beel, you never spared him a second or third glance the way you do for Michael.
Simeon muses that there must be something special about angels in particular that appeals to your most carnal desires. None of the demons in the Devildom seemed to interest you. Even his fallen brothers tried to seduce you and secure your affection for themselves, but none of them succeeded.
He’s curious what draws you to Michael: is it his skin that glistens when it’s covered in a sheen of sweat? Is it the way his long hair and broad chest draw your attention to him when he enters a room? Or perhaps it’s his eyes, haunted by years of painful memories and impossible choices that seem to brighten when he sees you, but darken with lust the longer he stares at you?
You’ve always been brave for a human. It’s not surprising that you would fall for wolves in sheep’s clothing.
Simeon wants to see how far he can push both of you in this little game you’re playing. He pulls you into a quiet part of the library and gropes your chest as he fucks his cock between the soft, warm gap of your thighs, but he leaves you a little messy afterwards. Your tacky thighs make a soft shlicking noise when you walk.
He leads you towards your bedroom so he can help you wash—after he fucks you properly—but Michael finds both of you first. He smiles warmly when he greets you, and his voice is like a deep, rumbling purr. He leans forward to pluck a loose thread from your tunic, and he scents you when his nose is closest to your skin. You don’t seem to mind Michael’s intrusion on your personal space, and Michael doesn’t seem to care that Simeon watches you both.
No matter what Michael might do or say, Simeon knows without a doubt that your heart is his and his alone. You’ve been through too much together, and his destiny is now tied to your own. However, he’s not entirely opposed to seeing where this path will lead if you desire it.
When Simeon takes you to bed that night, he feels particularly ravenous for you. He braces himself on his hands and knees above you so he can claim your lips in a hungry, filthy kiss. He licks into your mouth and detects a hint of tonight’s dessert on your tongue—a sweet vanilla cake, one of Michael’s favourites—and growls while he kisses you until the taste is gone.
Simeon is worshipful as he slowly moves down your body. His lips graze your jaw and his teeth scrape the sensitive skin at the hollow of your throat. His hands glide over your chest as his lips leave a fiery trail over the heaving slope of your ribs and the soft skin of your belly. When you arch your back in quiet demand for more, he rewards your patience by tweaking your nipples. He pushes your thighs apart and makes himself comfortable between your legs. There’s a small bottle of lube hidden amongst your sheets. He reaches for it and asks you what you want.
“I want your fingers,” you whimper, and you wiggle your hips impatiently.
Simeon hears a sharp intake of breath on the other side of the wall, and he hides his smirk in the meat of your thigh as he peppers your ticklish skin with barely-there kisses. The first sensation of his fingers tracing along your arousal leaves you gasping and clenching your sheets. He lowers his head and mouths at your sensitive skin as he slips a finger inside you.
You roll your hips and encourage him to touch you more, to fuck you deeper with the finger that’s preparing your body for his cock. You never hide your lust for him, and like all the times before, it sends heat rushing through him and makes his cock ache. He ruts against the mattress to try and find some relief, but nothing can compare to your velvety walls sucking him inside you.
He hears the soft, wet sounds of Michael touching himself on the other side of the wall, and it adds another sinful layer to the melody of breathy moans that escape your lips.
“Ahh–!” your voice trembles as you moan loudly when a second finger stretches you even more.
Simeon hushes you and he crooks his fingers inside you. “Be careful, my love. You don’t want Michael to hear, do you?” he murmurs. He doesn’t mean to ask that question out loud, but your reaction is so visceral that he doesn’t regret it either.
Your whole body jolts as if you’ve been shocked, and you groan deep in your chest like you’re having some sort of revelation. Your body clenches around Simeon’s fingers and he feels delightfully wicked as he basks in your depravity.
“Or perhaps you want him to hear us?” he teases you. Your eyes are clenched shut and you’re shaking your head back and forth against the pillow, but he knows you’re only afraid to admit the truth. He thrusts his fingers deeper inside you so he can brush against that sensitive spot inside that finally sets your hidden desires free.
“Y-yes–!” you cry out as you try desperately to fuck yourself on his fingers. No matter how deep or how fast he moves, it’s not enough—it’s never enough.
There’s a soft thump on the wall—like someone smacked it with their palm, or their fist—and Simeon suddenly withdraws his hand from your body and kneels between your legs. He adds more lube to his palm and pumps his cock until it’s slick. He presses the tip against you while he grabs your hips to hold you steady.
You hook your legs around his waist, but you look at him in confusion when he doesn’t move. You can feel the pressure of his cock pressing against your entrance. There’s something feral in his gaze, a dark hunger and possessiveness better suited to creatures of the Devildom more than any angel. His overwhelming need makes you tremble, but he doesn’t scare you.
You place one of your hands overtop of his and squeeze. “Please,” you whimper pathetically, because you feel so empty without him inside you and he knows it.
He clenches his jaw and utters a deep groan as he slowly sheathes himself inside you. He looks down and watches your body stretch obscenely around his cock.
Don’t hold back for me now, he thinks.
“Don’t hold back for us now,” he grits out, pulling back until the fat tip of his cock is all that’s left inside you. “Let him hear you,” he snarls when he snaps his hips forward and pulls your body down onto his cock to meet his thrust. The overwhelming sense of fullness leaves you breathless, and he begins fucking you with single-minded determination.
Simeon’s pace is faster and rougher than how he usually fucks you, but the intensity makes it so much better, and you can’t be quiet now even if you tried. There’s no chance that Michael can’t hear what you’re doing, not when Simeon growls at you to take his cock and feel how hard he is for you. You’re gasping for breath between moans and cries of Simeon’s name, and the headboard bangs against the wall in time with his thrusts.
The heat of your impending release burns deep inside you and you know neither of you will last much longer. Despite the loud noises you and Simeon make, you think you can hear a third voice from somewhere close by—deep grunts and curses and choked moans that sound suspiciously like your name.
Is that—?
You glance over at the wall that separates your room from Michael’s, and when you look back at Simeon, his burning gaze stares into yours. He leans over you and reaches his hand between your bodies. His fingers are electric as he strokes at your slick, sensitized skin that coaxes you even closer to your release. You can almost taste it, it’s so close.
“Let him hear you,” he whispers, repeating his command from earlier. You could’ve ignored it the first time as something dirty he said in the heat of the moment, but you can’t deny it now. His hand and cock move so purposefully to drive you over the edge like he wants you to scream for him—for both of them. He moves his hand faster between your legs and you close your eyes and arch your back so your chest presses against his.
“Please, right there, fuck I’m gonna—mmm—!” your moan breaks off into a high-pitched cry when you come, and Simeon’s own brutal pace starts to falter when your walls clench around his cock. He tries to keep going but he can’t hold off his own pleasure any longer. He grunts as his hips stutter, and his rhythm is slow and sloppy while he finishes pumping his cum deep inside you.
You think you hear a muffled shout through the wall, but you’re not sure if it’s your imagination or wishful thinking.
Simeon’s panting breaths are laced with tired, contented sighs. He huffs in amusement when a bead of sweat trickles down his brow and over the tip of his nose. His skin is as hot and clammy as yours is, and you brush the sweat off his face and wipe your hand on the bed sheets.
Simeon braces himself on his forearm so he can lean down and brush a kiss against your cheek. You both stare into each other’s eyes and you know he sees the same things you do: satisfaction, an undercurrent of lust that always exists between you, and uncertainty. It feels like something monumental happened tonight between the two of you in this room and Michael in his. Your throat feels hoarse, and you’re not sure how to ask the question burning in your mind.
Someone knocks on the bedroom door, and you realize you might not have to ask at all. Simeon glances over his shoulder quickly, but you both know who it is. When he peers down at you again, you know the silent question he’s asking you: Do you want to let him in?
Simeon’s lips curl into a smirk when you nod your head, yes.