Chapter Text
A gentle buzzing pulled Gortash out of the trance he'd sunken into trying to finish a soon due assignment. With a slight sneer he glanced over to his phone, though his gaze softened at the name on the incoming call.
"Enver."
"Yes?"
"If you come to our favourite spot in the woods, I have a little uh- gift for you."
Gortash checked the clock, 8:33pm on a Thursday, whatever gift his darling Hellion had conjured up must've been rather spontaneous. Or perhaps, given the hesitation in his voice, something that had taken him some amount of courage to try and show him.
Having been silent a second too long for his impatient call partner Gortash's train of thought was interrupted:
"I also brought us some wine, not sure if it'll meet your standards though."
With a fond sigh Gortash set his pen down, leaving his unfinished text to rest. "Give me twenty minutes", he hung up. After giving himself a quick once-over and ruffling through his hair to make sure he looked presentable he headed towards his front door, grabbing a light jacket as he made his way past the open wardrobe in his hallway.
The air outside felt dense, an ongoing heatwave and interluding downpour had it so humid it seemed to sit in your lungs forever. That aside it was a nice evening, no clouds and this time of year night wouldn't come until roughly 10 or 11pm. Gortash unlocked the bike chained to the garden fence and hopped on, pedalling off. It wouldn’t be a long ride, and he knew the way well enough to just sink into his thoughts while listening to a couple songs. Eventually, he halted on an unpaved road close to the treeline, jumping off his bike and dragging it slightly into the woods, hopefully obscuring it enough not to tempt any long-fingered passer-by. Pleased enough with the spot he checked the time: still six minutes left, well in time to find where he was called to.
Making his way between the trees his mind briefly wandered to the first time he'd gone here. Usually not one for nature promenades a rather stressful week somehow ended him up on a walk through the woods, somewhat mindlessly looking for a place to sit with his thoughts. As luck would have it, he found himself on a stunning little clearing, it featured a pond and the early summer sun cast a luminous green shade through the almost fully overcast treetops. There had only been one, rather unwelcome, surprise among the beautiful scenery: Almost centre of the clearing he saw what he could only presume was a devil, haphazardly shovelling freshly dug up dirt back into the ground. It would almost have looked a romantic painting had the work not been so crudely done and the air not reeked with sulphur and iron. Still, watching muscles strain under dark red, freckled skin as it glistened in golden light, wings glowing red, Gortash had felt himself unable to tear his eyes off the, frankly very suspicious, scene.
Looking back the smartest option would have been to sneak away again unnoticed, morally, not that he cared, he should probably immediately have handed in a police report; but instead, he just stood there, hells he even felt his feet slowly drag him further into the clearing, closer to the devil at work. Until he felt a twig snap in two under his foot and froze. The creature, whose attention he'd so luckily avoided up to now, had flung the shovel aside and before Gortash even knew what had happened he was on his back, air painfully knocked out of him. He felt the cold edge of a blade press into the soft tissue where his throat met his jaw, the smell of sulphur and iron almost crushing now. When he opened his eyes they were met with big, pitch-black ones, framed in snow white lashes, mere inches from his face. They stared down at him, wide and hungry and why he was still alive to even witness this was beyond him.
The same black eyes now watched him with a soft expression as he stepped into the clearing. Gortash let his gaze fall over the scene: his caller lay atop a dark blanket and had a small wicker basket set close by on the forest floor, a bottle of wine peeking out under its lid.
"And here I thought you had all but forgotten about me and dived right back into whatever work you were busying yourself with when I called", the devil spoke, voice thick with sarcasm. "Mephistopheles, my love, you know I'd never leave you in abandon like that – unless you deserved it of course." Barking up a laugh at him Mephistopheles shuffled around, dragging Gortash down to lie beside him, holding him close. They spent a few minutes in silence.
"So, what needed me called here on such short notice?" Gortash inquired, keeping his face resting in the crook of the other's neck. He felt Mephistopheles' chest rise as he took a deep breath and snaked strong arms around his torso to pull Enver on top of him, leaving his hands to rest on either side of his hips. "Everything that makes me belongs to father, down to the last drop of my own ichor that I will ever spill in his name", he drew in another breath, reached up to cup Enver's face, talons grazing skin, "but one thing I will pry from out of father's loving claws and surrender to you. I want you to engrave yourself upon it, forever." He pulled Enver down, close enough for him to feel the devils hot, sulphuric breath on his face; the expression he bore was unfamiliar to the man above him, it looked pleading, borderline desperate. "If you'll have it." Hovering over him not a second longer Enver closed the distance between them, capturing the other in a passionate kiss.
Eventually he pulled away just enough to breathe, resting his forehead against Mephistopheles' own – he had an inkling where his beloved was going with this, and the mere idea let warmth spread through him. With that he brought him into a tight hug, focusing on the feeling of the other's heart hammering against its cage.
"My love, how could I ever refuse you when you flay yourself so bare before me."
Mephistopheles gave a relieved sigh, relaxing underneath Enver, nervosity before his proposal finally laid to rest. After signalling his companion to sit up he shuffled around, wrestling his shirt off with Enver's assistance, then turned to retrieve a delicate looking kris dagger from the wicker basket. Gently he pressed it into Enver's hand, letting arms fall to his sides as soon as it left his hands, chest now fully exposed before his lover.
After a moment's anticipation he felt the sharp tip pierce the top layer of skin and creep slowly, repeatedly downward, dragging out each and every stroke. The languid manner in which Enver carved through him made him wince, his breath growing shallower. And when he felt the dagger finally slice through the last layer of skin and hit muscle he let out a pathetic moan. Enver paused.
"You're doing absolutely wonderful," he pressed a soft kiss to the devil's forehead, "now please be a darling and pull your flesh taut for me." Mephistopheles obeyed, slowly raising his hands to pull on either side of the incision. "Perfect", he heard from the man above him, though it almost seemed he whispered it to himself, face already returned to a deeply concentrated expression. With his muscle now pulled and stretched he felt every cut of the knife clearer, rendering him unable to hold back breathy whimpers and whines as more of his muscle fibres were severed. Tears swelled up in his eyes, threatening to fall when the blade hit the first rib bone and he moaned almost obscenely. The last cut finished Enver paused again, laying the dagger to rest momentarily on the other's abdomen; he admired his work for a moment, listening to the shallow panting of the man underneath him. Affectionate smile returning to his lips he silently took hold of Mephistopheles' hands and guided them to rest their fingertips inside the opening of his chest, making him hiss.
The devil needed no further instruction and pulled his chest open, slowly, tears now streaming down his face as he squeezed his eyes shut and groaned. He kept pulling until Enver lightly tapped his wrist, signalling him that he’d spread himself enough, though his eyes stayed shut tight as he inhaled sharply, trying to focus on the sensation of fresh summer night air roaming over his exposed flesh and innards. Only when he felt a hand cup his face and rub calming circles over his cheek did he open them again. Through the unrelenting tears he could barely make out Enver's face, but he didn't need to see to feel the radiating admiration at the sight of his open heart as it beat against its cage, rhythmically pumping blood into the opening it was no longer hidden behind. Giving up on trying to blink through the tears he pressed his eyes shut again, bracing himself as he spread his flesh a little further, inviting Enver in. He waited patiently for a moment until he felt shuffling on top of himself, then the clink of a belt buckle. His face was grabbed firmly on either side, prying open his clenched jaw; through a confused noise a belt was placed firmly in his mouth. "As lovely as you sound, let's not have this ruin your teeth permanently?", the request was met with an appreciative smile, as far as that was possible with a belt wedged in between his teeth. Fingers caressed over his temple, smudging through the tear trails, before they took the dagger up a final time. "Ready?", he gave a nod and arched his chest again.
Careful not to chip away at any of Mephistopheles' ribs Enver, bit by bit, went about spelling out his name on bhaalspawn's beating chambers. He didn't dare take his eyes off them, even when he felt the other buckle and tense underneath him or heard him give off muffled moans and cries at his deliberations. Halfway through his name the noises were coming out so high pitched he was almost convinced they'd be overheard at the edge of the woods even through the belt his darling Apollyon was digging his teeth into. "Almost done, my dear", he tried to comfort, though he doubted his words registered. When he put the finishing stroke on the "R" the devil below him made a sound so obscene Enver would think he came if he couldn't still feel a hard bulge right underneath where he was seated on the other's hips. After giving himself a moment to review his work, making sure he was satisfied, he put the dagger aside, then lightly took his lover's hands in his, stroking their backs until they were relaxed, and he could remove them from the opening. "All done", he said, smiling fondly as he finally looked back up to Mephistopheles's face and removed the belt, feeling the tension leave his body. The man groaned, chest still heaving. He reached bloody fingertips up to Enver's face, pulling him into a desperate kiss that got reciprocated dearly.
They remained like that for a moment, neither eager to break the kiss, but having had a chance to come down from his own adrenaline high Enver was becoming all too aware of how wet his legs felt. He pulled away. One look back to Mephistopheles' still open chest and down to their hips confirmed they were both lying in a sizable pool of blood. "I know you're not a fan, but I hope for your sake you thought ahead enough to bring a healing potion for yourself", he spoke with a mock-scolding tone "at the rate you're still losing blood you'll end up drowning the both of us". In return came a coarse laugh just before their eyes met and Enver took a moment to take in his lover's face – he looked properly put through. Still panting, tear stained face visibly flushed even despite his deep, red complexion, hells a few stray tears were still running down the sides of his face, but he smiled softly up at him. Bleary eyes glimmering with affection as he leaned his face into Enver's hand and nodded, making a notion towards the basket.
Enver reached for it, lifting the lid to inspect the contents: quickly locating a small potion bottle and a sealed off glass container holding a curved needle and some thread. It seemed his dear little bhaalspawn did not intend on leaving with a neatly closed, unmarked chest.
He took one last look to commit his lover's exposed heart, etched letters bleeding his name, to memory. Then uncorked the potion and poured it over the opening, careful to avoid letting it leak behind the rib cage. He received a pained hiss in response as the potion sizzled away, slowly mending the most inner layers of muscle together, he chuckled, "one would think this is the least of your pains today, devil." "We all- have our vices, and healing- potions are far from mine", Mephistopheles coughed up, it now becoming fully apparent how strained his voice was, "somehow, they seem to go against everything- my body was made for. Inexplicable, I know", another gritty laugh. He then let his hands roam to Enver's hips and press down, grinding his hard bulge into him. "You sure I can't tempt you into letting me split you open, too?" his tone was joking but Enver sensed should he actually accept the offer he would not waste a second before flipping them over and taking him, open chest or not. "As intriguing as that may sound, I fear such exertion might actually kill you right now", Enver himself was painfully aware that by now he was in no better state than his companion, but they still had to make it to at least one of their homes, preferably, alive. "Come on, let me stitch you up. We'll deal with this issue when we're home." He was met with an overly dramatic sigh followed by an affectionate giggle and still sticky hands dragging him into another quick kiss, "alright, do your worst." Theatrically arching his chest towards Enver, smirk betraying his expression of mock-defeat, he waited patiently for the other to prep needle and thread.
Enver tried to make quick work of the stitches, appreciating the other trying his best to keep from shifting around too extensively, enabling him to work relatively swiftly and precisely. Though he wasn't able to muster up enough concentration anymore to ignore the rising heat in his abdomen that the devil's barnyard sounds conjured up.
Tying the knot on his last stitch he leaned back and let out a shaky breath, the situation fully setting in as he flicked his wrist to cut the remaining string, and put the needle back into its container. Suddenly a little overwhelmed with the strange gravity of what they had both just committed to, he found himself almost flumping over onto the other's chest, though he reminded himself, probably against the bhaalspawn’s better wishes, to be cautious. So instead he gently leaned down and pressed his forehead next to the seam he had just made. To hear the heart beat on so calmly, his name now carved upon it, gave him a strange sense of contentment he wasn't used to feeling, as if unrest that had been stirring in him for a long time was now quieted. In midst of his thoughts he felt strong arms enwrap and squeeze him lightly, as if to make sure every beat the heart had to say would be heard clearly. He sighed contently, taking in the evening air now heavy with sulfuric aroma. "Thank you", he whispered into their shared silence, "for your gift", he ran his own hands along the other's sides, holding onto him tightly, "I will cherish it." With an appreciative chuckle the arms around him held him a little tighter. "I take drinking is also off the table, then?" "I'd prefer we make it home before morrow, without landing us in a ditch somewhere. Besides," he took another look at the dark pool encircling them, "I strongly doubt you could hold your liquor well after this." He could practically feel Mephistopheles' sarcastic eye-rolling.
"Where would I ever be if I didn't have you to dote on me, banite."
"Forgive me if this isn't how I've planned to stage your finis. I'll gladly grant you death another time, in a more fitting environment for a bhaalspawn's last breath."
"You flatter me."
Enver reached up to give him a playful slap and pushed himself back into a sitting position.
"You're staying with me tonight."
This was immediately met with suggestive eyebrows raised, Enver rolled his eyes. "Maybe, if you actually survive." He rose and stepped to Mephistopheles’ side, holding a hand out to him.
"You really dote relentlessl-", the devil's snarky remark was cut short by a wince at the attempt to swing himself to his own feet, he accepted the hand with a groan. "You win."
Enver laughed at him as he swayed, clearly dizzy from blood loss, "if you pass out on me I won't let you live it down". Whatever snide response Mephistopheles had was silenced by another chaste kiss. Then Enver laced their hands together, messily shoving the positively drenched blanket and his chewed belt into the basket with this remaining free hand.
Light had gotten rather dim at this point; they'd not make it back before complete nightfall. Technically nothing new, they'd found their way here and back in the dark of night enough times before, but no one had ever lost quite as much blood before the trip as now.
After a last look back to his feet Enver pulled at Mephistopheles hand, making his way toward the edge of the woods, guiding a wobbly devil behind him.