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Gabriel bounced on his heels, nodding politely at the humans waiting on the platform with him. He held a folded-up newspaper in his hand that he had no intention of reading, and carried a briefcase that fit his ‘human businessman' charade. He’d done a decent job, in his opinion, of maintaining appearances during these last few years of assignments on Earth. He was glad to be headed home, though.
He filed into the commuter train when it arrived, setting his briefcase down beside his foot when he selected a seat. He crossed his legs and rested his newspaper in his lap, his foot ticking absently as the train lurched into motion. He watched the city landscape pass by outside the window, watched the people come and go from the train in droves.
This particular system began as any other commuter rail line, with humans filtering on and off at the various stops. But it was one of many across the globe that had an additional line, one that humans couldn’t detect and only celestials knew about, for those who needed to file mission-essential paperwork at ground level before heading upstairs or down. As the train approached the end of line, a permanent miracle system transferred the cars to a line destined for Headquarters in London. Sure, angels and demons could just miracle themselves to Headquarters and avoid the hassle, but this way spared an unnecessary miracle, and if Gabriel’s modus operandi could be described using one word, it would undoubtedly be ‘pragmatic.’ No sense in using a valuable miracle when there were solutions in place to avoid it. Besides, he actually enjoyed the train to Headquarters. It allowed him some time to decompress from Earth missions before heading back to Heaven, where he was expected to perform at the peak of his ability at all times. The few hours spent on the train allowed for the necessary compartmentalizing and cleansing of his thoughts. Pragmatic.
He sighed as he recalled his recent work on Earth. Difficult work, but necessary. When God sent an Archangel to get something done, it had better be done, and it had better be done right. Anything less than perfection was unacceptable. It was a high expectation, to be sure, but one that Gabriel prided himself on achieving, every time.
He wasn’t without his weaknesses, though, even he wasn’t too proud to admit that (to himself, of course, never in front of others). Every few centuries, when he’d been forced to attend to Earth missions, he’d allow himself a small indulgence, here and there - just to lighten the burden of expectation, if only momentarily. His trips to the tailor were one of those indulgences. A fresh new suit always served to bolster his confidence.
A cigarette, at a bar, where he ordered a Manhattan he didn’t intend to drink, as he’d done the evening prior. Rarer still were his forays into physical intimacy - no one ever caught his lavender eyes long enough to pique his interest.
That had not been the case on this particular trip.
He’d gone into that bar for the white noise. He wanted to enjoy his cigarette and drown out his thoughts in the hum of humanity, before heading back to the sterile silence of Heaven. He’d ordered his drink so he wouldn’t look out of place, but remained content to smoke his cigarette in peace.
He felt her fingers glide across his shoulders before he saw her- a human woman of slight stature who wore a wine red pea coat and fishnet stockings, leaning in close to whisper in his ear.
“If you’re not going to touch that drink, why don’t you come join me so I can drink it?”
By the time he turned to look at her, she was halfway down the bar, propping herself on a barstool with the seats on either side of her empty.
Human women like that were nothing but trouble. Trouble that angels should stay far, far away from.
“What is there to even think about, man?” the bartender asked, yanking Gabriel from his thoughts. “Just about every guy in this room would be crawling on their knees for a chance at that.”
Gabriel scoffed. Humans could be so crude.
Next thing he knew, he was sliding into the vacant barstool next to the woman and setting his Manhattan down in front of her. The dimple on her cheek puckered when she smiled, and her shimmering blue eyes set something alight inside the Archangel that raged like an inferno.
Gabriel shifted in the uncomfortable seat of the commuter train, feeling the heat beneath his collar and his pulse racing at the memories of the previous night.
She hadn’t even finished her drink. She’d placed a hand on his knee and asked if he was staying nearby, and before long, he had her pinned against a wall in the hotel room Heaven had arranged for him, her legs wrapped around his waist and her hand desperately fisted in a handful of his hair.
She had freckles, he remembered quite vividly. He enjoyed kissing the ones that peppered her face, but the freckles on her thighs… those he’d spent hours admiring. Kissing across the expanse of pretty skin. Constellations only dreamt of such perfection.
It had been wise to will away his effort for the train ride. Simply recalling the hours he’d spent between those thighs… if he were making an effort at present, he would be embarrassingly hard in the middle of his commute.
He knew he should cleanse his mind of these impure thoughts. The entire dalliance had been a moment of weakness for him, one which he hoped never to repeat. But he couldn’t help the way his thoughts drifted back to her lips, plump and slick with saliva and stretched around his aching cock. The way she nibbled playfully at his ear, scratched at his back with her fingernails. The feel of her body pulsing around him as she shook with pleasure. He’d been able to maintain his composure through two of her orgasms, but not the third. He came undone in her arms, shuddering and whimpering through thousands of years of unrelieved tension.
Gabriel cleared his throat and once again rearranged in his seat, nervously adjusting his pant leg. Even if he wasn’t sporting an effort at present, he felt like everyone could tell. His heartbeat was absolutely throbbing in his groin.
Get a hold of yourself, he chastised himself mentally. She was a mistake. That’s all. You don’t even know her name, you’ll never see her again.
The train doors hissed open, and Gabriel’s heart did something very fluttery and unwelcome. As if to taunt him, the woman from the bar stepped onto the train.
Gone were the high heels and fishnets, and any semblance of femininity. She wore a plain black pantsuit, with unassuming loafers and a deep red collared shirt, unbuttoned just far enough down her chest. Gabriel’s heart kept doing that annoying fluttering thing, so he ceased its beating with a thought. A heartbeat was unnecessary anyway.
His immediate impulse was to talk to her, but he once again had to mentally reprimand himself. She had been a mistake. He had to forget about what happened.
He unfolded his newspaper and propped it in front of himself, remaining hidden until the train began to move once again. He chanced a glance over the edge of his newspaper, and immediately regretted it. Those sharp blue eyes were piercing straight into him, with none of the mischievous effervescence from the night before. Her eyes were cold and steely, like the freshly polished broadside of a blade.
Something about the way she was looking at him made his heart kick start all over again. He realized with a bubble of panic that his corporation was trembling without his consent.
Everything was fine. She’s just a human. She’ll ride the train a few stops and then get off and you’ll never spare her another thought again.
The train continued on. Humans scurried on and off, but Gabriel remained, as did the woman. He tried to avoid looking at her but she caught him several times. Why did this human have such an effect on him?! It was like trying to stare down the face of God herself. She radiated such power. What frightened him the most was he couldn’t be sure if he was rightfully wary of such power… or drawn to it.
The train approached the final stop. Well, the final stop that humans knew of. They would all leave, and the miracle system would take over, making the humans completely unaware of anyone remaining on the train, and the angels and demons leftover would have a quick jaunt left before reaching Headquarters.
The doors hissed open. Humans exited.
The woman stayed.
No.
The doors hissed closed.
No no no, this can’t be. She can’t be…
The train passed the miracle threshold, and the woman’s eyes flashed red as they seared into Gabriel’s flesh.
Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.
Gabriel tried to remain calm. There were two angels on his end of the car, and three demons on the other, including the woman, who he now knew was not a human woman at all. His palms were clammy, and one of them was clenched tightly around a crunched handful of his newspaper. His mind started racing.
Sex with a human is permissible by the thinnest of standards, surely this was a damnable sin. He didn’t feel any different… he’d know if he had been Felled, wouldn’t he? And even if he hadn’t… how the hell was he supposed to keep this quiet? No way the demon would keep their mouth shut.
They tempted me! Of course! I’m a victim, they did this to me!
Gabriel frowned. He hated that conclusion. Firstly, because he knew, somewhere in the back of his mind, that he was the farthest thing from a victim. He’d wanted them. Badly. He chose his actions.
Second, because he always assumed that if a demon actually ever did try and tempt him, he’d never fall for the wiles of the damned.
I am so. Fucking. Stupid.
The train stopped at Headquarters, and the few angels around Gabriel walked to the doors, sneering down their noses at the demons, who sneered back. Gabriel waited patiently at the back of the group for the doors to open, feeling the back of his neck prickle when the blue-eyed demon stepped into his personal space, right beside him. They both strode confidently from the train, and when it looked like the demon might slip away into a lift, Gabriel grabbed their elbow forcefully, earning a threatening growl. He ignored them and pulled them as inconspicuously as he could into an empty hallway.
“Why the fuck didn’t you tell me you were a demon?” he growled under his breath, careful not to draw the attention of the bustling celestials in the lobby.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were an angel?” the demon barked back, squaring up their jaw so as not to appear so little in Gabriel’s looming shadow.
“Like you didn’t know, vile tempter.”
“Azz I recall, you were the one who joined me at the bar.”
Gabriel clenched and unclenched his jaw, his lips pursed as he forced a perturbed sigh from his nostrils. “This is a disaster,” he mumbled to himself.
“That’s not what you were saying last night.”
Gabriel felt his face flush with heat, and he had to suppress the urge to smite the demon.
“I…” he stopped short of uttering an entirely unangelic string of profanities. “Now listen. No one, and I mean no one, can know about this, do you understand?”
“No argument from me. You think I want all of Hell thinking I’m an angel-fucker? I have standardzz.”
“Excuse me? I’m sorry, remind me again which one of us was screaming the Almighty’s name last night? Because as I recall it wasn’t me.”
The demon’s cheeks reddened, and dammit all Gabriel’s heart was fluttering again.
“Well excuzzze me, you don’t exactly fuck like an angel, do you?” the demon snarled, obviously realizing their insult sounded dangerously close to a compliment and scrunching up their nose in disgust.
“You go around tempting a lot of angels, do you? The Bureau of Demon Affairs would be very interested to hear that…”
“It wazzzn’t a temptation!” the demon snapped, a little too loud, and they both glanced cautiously out at the lobby to make sure they hadn’t been overheard.
“I wasn’t even on the clock, I wazzz just…” the demon ruffled their own short hair and took a small step back, slamming their back grumpily against the wall and frowning. “Horny. And you were… pretty enough.”
Gabriel straightened, feeling a strange warmth in his chest at being called “pretty.”
“Who are you, anyway?” the demon growled, clearly trying to sweep the words they’d just bumbled under a metaphorical rug.
“Gabriel, Messenger of the Lord.”
“Bloody fucking hell, I’ve gone and shagged an Archangel. I’m done for. Can’t have Satan’zzz right hand sucking on God’s favorite knob.”
“Satan’s right hand?” Gabriel asked, his face draining of color. “You’re… Beelzebub?”
“It’s Prince Beelzebub to you, wank wingzzz,” Beelzebub buzzed, pushing away from the wall and stalking past Gabriel with an intentional shoulder-check. Their shoes made little squeaks on the tile as they paced, and Gabriel could feel the malevolent energy radiating from them.
No wonder he’d fallen for their trickery. They were one of the most powerful, if not the most powerful demon in all of Hell.
“That’s how you tricked me,” Gabriel insisted, and Beelzebub shot him a heavily insulted glower.
“Tricked you? What are you talking about, wanker?”
“You must have. Otherwise how do you explain my heart beating out of turn, the trembling, the sweating? You must have twisted something in my mind, fiend.”
Beelzebub considered his words, and it seemed as if they were fighting a smile. They replaced it quickly with their trademark scowl, and stalked slowly into Gabriel’s personal space, stopping inches from him and marking the way he almost flinched away from them.
“You sure you can keep that pretty mouth shut?” Beelzebub asked, their voice low and threatening. There was that word again. Pretty. “You’ve got a reputation down below for being a blowhard, and I swear to Satan if you tell anyone…”
“Why would I tell anyone? How do you think that makes me look - dipping my pen in the adversary’s ink? Besides, I’m an angel, my word is my bond. You, however, are a demon. You expect me to trust you?”
Beelzebub’s scowl curved slowly upward into a wicked grin. “I supozzzze… you’ll just have to have a little faith,” they cooed, holding out a hand for Gabriel to shake.
The Archangel looked down at the appendage as if he’d just been offered an uncooked chicken wing, but eventually he took it. Their handshake was rough and unrefined, but Gabriel found himself longing to feel their skin on his just a little longer.
Both angel and demon straightened, both eyeing the other with as much suspicion and contempt as they could muster. Beelzebub straightened their coat and huffed away without another word, and that was when the Archangel did something entirely uncharacteristic.
“Wait, Prince Beelzebub,” he said, and they spun to level him with that murderous stare that he didn't hate as much as he should.
“I don’t… uh, have any meetings until later today. Do you… want to go for a drink?” he asked, heart racing up into his throat. They knew he didn’t drink. They knew he didn’t mean drink.
Beelzebub remained frozen in place, their gaze slowly drifting down Gabriel’s body, lingering in places, before they dragged their sapphire eyes back up to his ridiculous face. They made a tsk of their tongue against their teeth.
“Fuck it. Why not.”