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“We shouldn’t be doing this.”
Dex almost missed the words, he’s too far gone with his nose buried into the Devil’s neck, pathetically whining in pleasure and pain. The gunshot wound in his stomach is still profusely bleeding, adding to his excitement. He would puff out his chest with pride right now if he physically could. In his mind, a small voice that eerily resembles Matthew’s speaks out, ‘Good job. You’re such a good boy. You did so good for me. You did the right thing, Dex.’
He did good didn’t he? That’s why Matthew allowed him to climb into his lap and moan into his mouth every time the head of his cock pushes against the spot that makes Dex see stars. He’s going to die here, in the place where he took out a piece of Matthew’s heart and bashed it against the altar; under the watchful eyes of his God. When nightmares chase away his ability to sleep, his mind often wanders to Father Lantom and whether or not Dex would turn out differently if God had sent him into his life. Maybe he’d be able to experience the “goodness” that Matthew so deeply believes in; maybe he and Matthew could’ve met each other before the world decided to turn them against one another. In another life, he would’ve been good enough for him.
“Dex.” Matthew gasps sharply into his open mouth as Dex switched to grinding on his lap due to exhaustion; lodging his cock deeper.
“Oh—Matt.” Dex moans softly against his lips as gloved hands grasp on to the meat of his hips, offering a helping hand in aiding his movements. “Faster. Please,” he begs so sweetly into Matthew’s ears, his hands trembles as he clumsily lifted the Devil’s cowl, immediately running his fingers through dark brown locks and finally resting on his nape. He tries his best to lift his torso, pushing himself back to hang from his nails that is digging into Matthew’s nape and shoulder.
With the last bit of strength he has left, Matt starts to fuck into him from below. Punishing his insides like it’s the last thing he’d be able to do for Dex. He can hear trucks filled with AVTF officers closing in with loaded guns and something akin to bloodlust running through their veins. If Dex wasn’t wounded, they’d be able to clear through them and escape with nothing but a few scratches. But Dex is bleeding out, he might even have to carry him to safety.
‘Safety?’ Matt asks to himself in his head. ‘Why not leave him here? Isn’t that what he deserves? For everything that he’s done to so many, and to you.’
Delirious from the tightness of Dex’s hole and the melody of his cries, Matthew whispers, “No. No. You can be saved. I believe in you.” He grasps on to Dex tighter, never wanting to lose his control over him.
Dex’s head that was previously thrown back, snaps forward to look into Matthew’s eyes, “I can’t. You know I can’t, Matt. I’m doomed—“ He stops to moan, spine arching from his incoming orgasm. “Just let me die here,” he states with a shaking voice, he has never felt so close to death before. Dex is starting to weaken, his vision blurring from blood loss and the sudden rush of tears. Matt’s hand travels up to the back of his neck and pulls him into his neck again just as the salt hits the air. Allowing him a semblance of privacy to cry.
Matthew’s hips don’t stop as he whispers into Dex’s ear, “Yes you can. I saved myself before—Ah! I can save you too.”
The words prompts Dex to cum untouched, his moans echoing through the empty church. He instinctively pushes his ass down and tightened around Matt, pulling an orgasm out of him too. Their bodies sagged against the pews, spent but still alert. Mouths still breathing heavily into each other, lips never fully meeting. It’s a mutual understanding, because they both know why that the act would bring a sea of complex emotions that they’re not ready to deal with yet. Instead, they choose to rub into each other’s faces; kisses landing on to the tips of noses, to cheeks and shiny scars, but not any less sweet.
Once their heart rates slows, Dex finally responds, “You can’t. We are who we are, Matt.” The words felt like a stab through the heart for Matthew, but little does he know about how much the words wounded Dex’s throat, and the fact that pushing them out felt like puking up shards of glass. But it’s the truth isn’t it? Matthew can certainly try, but there’s no saving him, the darkness has staked their claim over his soul; it’s a life long contract.
Matthew stays silent, caused by the gears in his head that is spinning out of control, and Dex is thankful. For it makes it easier for him to go under as he curls further into Matthew’s body. And for the first time in his life, his mind is quiet as everything goes dark.