Archive of Our Own ^beta

“You don’t seem to be having a good time.”

A smooth, velvety voice spoke so clearly in the owl Prince’s ear that one of two things had to have happened. Either he was finally getting used to the high volume of heart-pounding, hip-thrusting music the strip club his groomsmen had taken him to for his last night of freedom, or he could perceive even softer sounds. Or the speaker of that voice was right next to him.

A quick turn of Stolas’ head proved it was the latter as he was suddenly being hovered over by a man whose presence was both intimidating and inviting at the same time. He stood tall, probably taller than the Prince of Hell, who was sitting on the high barstool as he downed his sorrows with whatever kind of alcohol the bartender had that could knock a Goetia on his ass. The mysterious figure wore a deep blue suit coat with red stripes to give it a pinstripe look. Fur trimmed the collar, wrapping entirely around the man’s neck and making his face somewhat obscured. On top of his head was a top hat that had been wrapped a few times in red silk and a heart emblem that matched the one on the belt buckle holding up his tight black pants. To finish the look, the man had two feathers coming out of each side of his hat, one red and one white. 

This man was clearly trying to mirror himself to the style of the nightclub’s true owner, King Asmodeus, the Sin of Lust. Perhaps he was the manager coming to make sure that the royal bachelor party that had practically scared off most of their usual clientele was happy with their experience in this high-priced den of lust. Stolas, however, was doing his best to pretend he wasn’t here. 

When Stolas looked up at the man, not completely trying to dominate his space but just needing to lean in a little as he moved to take the free stool next to the sad Prince of Hell, he didn’t know what to say except, “Oh, uh, no. Not really.”

That intrigued the gentleman, who easily flagged down the same bartender it had taken Stolas a few tries to get to notice him. Even with this being his bachelor party, Stolas’ presence felt irrelevant, as if he were an afterthought in the group of eight Goetia men who were in attendance. Five of them were members of lesser-known families or distant cousins whose ranks waned, playing a role in the upcoming royal wedding, but not so high as to outrank the groom. Two of the remaining three were his dual best men. One held the official title only because he was the poor owl’s future brother-in-law, and the blushing bride-to-be had insisted her brother be the one to stand at her disgraceful groom’s side to make it more of an event worth being at. The other was the only Goetia Stolas considered a true friend, and being the only other Prince in the bunch, he deserved a position better than those in the groomsmen party. 

Then, that left the unfortunately lucky bastard who sat at the bar away from them, wishing to get absolutely hammered and avoid more attempts at throwing the women who came down from the poles to bump and grind on him. 

“Not your kind of thing?” the kind stranger asked once he had a drink in front of him. Stolas downed the rest of his and was about to ask for a refill, but the bartender was already walking away, and so Stolas just took a moment to breathe a resigned sigh. 

“No, honestly.”

“Let me guess…you’re more of a loung singer kind of guy.” The only slightly buzzed Prince looked at his new drinking companion with moderate curiosity. This stranger who had come from seemingly nowhere seemed to know him better than any of the others who were supposed to be helping him enjoy his final moments of blissful freedom from the shrew his father was forcing him to marry. Had they listened to Stolas, they would be right now at a different establishment, listening to the soft, soothing croons of a renowned incubus who was said to make men and women alike cream themselves with just his voice. 

Oh, how Stolas wished to know if that was true. 

But no. Here he was stuck in some loud and obnoxiously lit house of flesh that was both strip club and brothel. Normally, being in an establishment such as this would warrant a scolding from his father or at least some of the elders in the Ars Goetia. Still, because the King of the Lust Ring owned it, there was no way to view it as anything other than respectable. That being said, his so-called friends were being anything but as they threw around the money they had been given at the ATM they stopped at before and were ordering the dancers from one lap to the next for dances. 

Those poor ladies, Stolas thought. At least they are being well compensated for having to deal with a bunch of drunk jerks. 

Stolas noticed some movement and tried once more to get the bartender’s attention since he only had the lone orb of ice in his glass, and it was slowly melting. But the man was clearly too occupied with watching one of the girls who was coming up to the stage for her act, and was dressed in a little red riding hood outfit. No doubt the man behind the bar thought himself the wolf that would claim her. 

“I’m guessing you’re with the bachelor flock that came in, huh?” the velvet voice asked, pulling Stolas from his musing, and he looked at he man sitting next to him, who nodded towards his companions. Stolas gazed at them to see each with a girl grinding on them and rolled his eyes. The two best men, however, were not in sight, but Stolas didn’t have the will or the want to search for them. No doubt they had found themselves somewhere they could have ‘a more intimate conversation about wedding details’ as they tended to do. 

“Yep, that’s us.”

“Who’s the lucky groom?”

Stolas couldn’t help but scoff at that and then pointed to himself. “That would be me.”

“You? Well, congratulations.” Stolas did his best to give a nod in gratitude, but the reluctance on his face must have said a lot more as the man followed it up with, “Or is this an ‘I’m sorry’ kind of situation?” 

Again, Stolas’ face revealed the answer as the guy who had come to chat him up gave a nod of understanding himself. “Ah, the latter.” 

Stolas again looked at his glass, annoyed at how much of the sphere in it was melted, and looked down at the bartender, now engrossed in a conversation with one of the waitresses. Either he was getting the latest gossip on the regal party only a few feet from them, or he was simply looking for more of a reason to ignore the one sitting at his bar. The annoyed owl was about to turn to the man with whom he sat, sure he was probably the manager of this establishment, and ask what it would take to get another drink, but the mysterious man was already way ahead of him. A loud whistle was heard, and the bartender was quickly looking over his shoulder at the two of them. His eyes seemed to almost widen in alarm, and he was quickly abandoning his coworker, who also promptly darted off, and before them both, refilling their drinks and offering the Prince a bow of respect. Then, he was gone again, helping the next poor soul in search of a drink. 

“Thanks,” was all Stolas could say as he began guzzling down the cool, burning liquid. 

“You’re very welcome.” The champagne flute the man had ordered was brought to his lips, and Stolas wondered if he might get a better view of the man he was now sharing a drink with, but the fur (or was it hair) was still making it hard to see his face. Only once he had taken a few sips did the glass return to its place on the bar, and the man continued to speak with him. “Care to talk about it, birdie babe?”

Stolas was taken aback by the nickname. This man, who had not been properly introduced to him nor even deigned to offer his name at the very least, was acting very familiar with him. The Prince of Hell would have been well within his rights to order the man away from him…but something about this guy made Stolas feel heard and seen. 

Two things he sorely lacked in his life. Still, Stolas didn’t think it right to keep this man from what would undoubtedly be more important business, and so politely offered, “Oh, I-I shouldn't. I mean, you-I don’t know- and you should probably-

“I’ve been told,” the sly gentleman said smoothly as he leaned in a little, and from the soft glowing of his greenish gold eyes, it was clear he was giving his best smoldering gaze. “That I’m a good listener.”

The slight whisps of the man’s breath could be felt on the face feathers of the side he was leaning into, and Stolas had to fight the urge to shiver at the sensation, which it seemed didn’t go unnoticed as the guy sat next to him gave a small chuckle of glee at it. It felt weird allowing someone unknown so close to him, behaving in an intimate way that was inappropriate, bordering on scandalous…and yet…

“It’s an arranged marriage,” Stolas confessed to his drinking partner. “My father insisted, and I’ve known about it since I was little.”

“How little?”

“Ten.” Admitting that required a quick gulp of his drink for the Prince of Hell. The look of surprise on the mysterious stranger he was opening up to in ways that he had never dared with anyone else in his life made Stolas chuckle a little. Yep, it was a ridiculous but true fact. “Yeah, I’ve always known it was coming, and I guess…I was just hoping it wouldn’t.”

“Why? Don’t you like the girl?” the dapper fellow asked, and Stolas didn’t try to hide his immediate look of disgust at the insinuation. 

“Heaven, no. How anyone could like someone like her…” He rolled his eyes as the memory of the stiff and angry swan he would be watching walk down the aisle towards him tomorrow. She would be staring at him, waiting for him to make even the slightest misstep so she could rightfully and adequately vent her anger at him before all those in attendance. Stolas was determined not to give her that chance and had rehearsed his movements and lines so many times he could do it blindfolded and with ear muffs on to deaden the sound of his voice and still get it all done perfectly. Anything for Stella to simply be content with their impending nuptials. “No, she is a shrew, harsh woman, and I wouldn’t wish her on Mammon.”

The idea of the Sin of Greed being tied to such a woman seemed to make the man sitting next to him laugh and even snort a little, which in turn made Stolas feel good. Usually, people were disgusted with his presence or just wished him to act as though he didn’t exist. He liked knowing he’d at least made someone, even a stranger, amused for a little while. 

“Yeesh,” the guy finally spoke. “So, why go through with it then, if you don’t want to?”

“Because I have to,” the reluctant groom admitted, once more staring at his drink and wishing it wasn’t so for the millionth time since he awoke today. Yet… “For my family and for my…”

“Position?” the suave gentleman supplied, and Stolas looked at him with surprise that he knew what he had been struggling to get out. “No need to feel strange, birdie babe. I kind of figured you were royal when you started talking about this being an ‘arranged’ thing.”

Oh yeah. Royal bachelor party. Duh. 

“Oh, yes.” That kind of took the wind out of the Prince’s sails as he had to remind himself that this guy was most likely the manager, at least that was the vibes he was giving off, and that he was only concerned with making sure the party that was taking up a lot of his business this evening would be spending enough to cover any losses from the lack of his usual crowd. It made this meeting of men feel less like people becoming acquaintances and more like a business meeting. So, Stolas again offered the man a way out. “I appreciate you listening to me, but if you’d rather-”

“Something tells me the fact that your fiancé’s a nightmare isn’t the only issue you’re trying to drown in the liquor here,” the man continued, ignoring the exit ramp he was given and taking another sip from his flute. Stolas had a quick debate over whether he should be the one to get up and leave, but decided he wasn’t really in the mood to move. As soon as he did, the others he had come with would be on him to join them in whatever hedonistic fun they had elicited. Lucifer, for the first time, Stolas found himself wishing he was with his future brother-in-law and closest friend, even if they were tongue deep in each other's mouths. Even being forced to endure that would be better than joining the foolish flock. 

“No…not really,” the reluctant groom admitted, choosing to remain with the mysterious businessman. 

“So what else is bothering you?”

“Well…I’m getting married.”

“Uh-huh.”

“To a horrible woman.”

“Yeah.” 

“Who I absolutely despise,” Stolas emphasized his words with a swipe of his arm as though he could remove the obstacle before him with a single swing. 

“Okay?” his drinking buddy asked, clearly wanting him to keep going.

“All to produce some heir that I apparently fucking need.”

“Right.” 

“And to do that, I have to…” Oh, how the words stuck in his throat. Even borderline drunk Stolas found just voicing the horrible act he would be expected to perform too much ot bear. Thankfully, the man he sat with didn’t and filled it in for him. 

“Fuck her, I’m guessing,” the charming man glibly supplied. Stolas couldn’t help chuckling at the man’s words and smirk, and then rolled his eyes, which got him a chuckle in return. “Is that the problem? Worried that you won’t be any good.”

“I couldn't care less if I’m anything for her,” the Prince of Hell spat out with only mild venom. Just knowing what he would be doing with his soon-to-be bride. Them naked…him on top of her…if she permitted, anyways, and their bodies… A clear shiver of disgust went through the anguished avian who was preparing to fight for the bartender’s attention again, but was surprised when the man was quickly in front of him with a replacement glass the instant Stolas had started looking for him. Clearly, the guy had gotten the fucking memo of who he was serving now and was being very prompt with his service. 

“Then…?” the curious man at his side asked, and Stolas took another big gulp before deciding he had enough liquid courage in him to speak words out loud that he’d always wanted to but never felt safe enough to. Not until now, sitting at a bar with a stranger and being drowned out by deafening music. 

“It’s because…I’m gay.”

“I’m sorry,” the obfuscated guy started, and Stolas thought he was somehow implying that his being homosexual was a horrible thing. He was ready to defend his orientation to this lowly worker, but then the man added. “It’s very loud in here. I couldn’t hear you.” 

Oh. Stolas thought back to his statement and wondered if his fear of being heard had kept his volume too low for the man to be able to pick up what he had said. So, he tried again. 

“I’m…gay,” the Prince of Hell voiced a little louder, and again the man leaned in with a confused expression.

“Pardon?”

“Oh, for Lucifer's sake- I’M GAY!” 

The second the words were out of his mouth, Stolas’ anxiety instantly spiked. He went from pleasantly warmed by his choice of alcohol to suddenly very sober and wishing he’d just kept his beak shut. What was wrong with him? He had just shouted his deepest, darkest secret in a public area. If anyone had heard it, they could use this fact to try to blackmail him or ruin his reputation at worst. This secret was something his father was determined to keep under wraps, going so far as even denying it to himself, no matter how obvious the answer was. And his future bride was equally as determined to keep her groom from being as embarrassing as possible. Yet, here Stolas was yelling out his truth for those who could hear him.

Thankfully, that was only the man who was smiling at him with a pleased grin. “Now, didn’t that feel really good?”

“Yes,” the owl Prince said with a slight chuckle as he was no longer filled with anxiety but relief. “Oh, my Lucifer, yes. I’ve never…never said it out loud like that before. Not where others could potentially hear me.”

Oh, the intoxicating giddiness he felt at being able to speak openly made him smile wider than he had in the months since his fiancée had begun barking her orders for their pending nuptuials. It almost made his cheeks hurt. Then, he felt his drinking partner leaning into his space, and suddenly his cheeks didn’t hurt as much as they were soothed by the heat that made them flush when the debonair man remarked, “Knew you had a sexy smile.”

Oh my. To have such a compliment made…it had Stolas thankful he was sitting down, especially when he heard a smooth-sounding chuckle that made the owl’s insides feel like jello. 

“Does anyone know?” the charming guy on the stool next to the Prince of Hell inquired as she took another sip from his current glass of champagne. 

“I-I’m sure my father suspects,” Stolas answered, his mouth feeling a bit dry. “But he couldn't care less so long as I have my heir. As for my friends…” 

Once more, Stolas was looking over his shoulder at the section of the floor where his groomsmen were seated. One of them had dared to be dragged up on stage and was currently being straddled by a dancer who was biting the bill between his beak and slowly pulling it away while looking at the others in the area in a way that told them they could have the same experience if they dared to come to her. The four seated men were all hooping and hollering encouragement for their friend to stuff the next bill in the zipper of his pants. 

Meanwhile, the two best men were still missing, and Stolas decided to ensure at least that they were around and had not abandoned the others for a more pleasurable evening. Sure enough, beneath a booth that had a curtain drawn mostly around it were two sets of tail feathers, a vivid red lying on top of a pale blue, poking slightly out of the bottom, and they were rocking in motion with each other. 

Stolas hated how much he envied his friend and future brother-in-law, who were able to be open about their desired type of mate and didn’t have to hide who they were to the rest of the Ars Goetia for the sake of their positions. The Marquis and lesser Prince could do as they pleased, evident by their apparent disregard for any possible rules about fornicating in the establishment. Then again, they were in Lust and in the best strip club/brothel there. Surely, the King of Lust wouldn’t beseech two men engaging in his sinful ways. 

“Only ones who know for certain are my two best men, who are currently going at it over there, and my intended. And she couldn't care less.”

“That’s rough, Your Highness,” the kind stranger offered his sympathies and then took another sip. “So they brought a gay man to a brothel, huh? Perhaps you’ll get at least one fun night out of this.”

“I doubt it,” Stolas remembered when the first male performer had come onto the stage and had done things to the pole that made his mouth water and eyes stay glued to his very agile form. Oh, watching this sexy incubus wrapped in black vinyl and wearing a dog collar with a metal loop had the closeted Prince wishing he would come to the table and whisk him to one of the private dancing rooms for more than just some rhythmic sways. He wanted this man’s arms holding him as their bodies pressed flush against each other while they sloppily kissed on the slightly concerning sticky floor. 

Oh, how glorious such a passionate rendezvous would be, and to have it just once before his freedom was stolen from him. 

Yet, when the less-dressed dancer had come down from the stage and went in search of people possibly interested in his such a private moment, his eyes locked with the desperate avian man who would have begged him for such a chance…but the five men around him had quickly ushered the man away, letting the verile god know none at their section were interested and to inform the other male performers to steer clear. They only wanted the hottest ladies attending them and the groom they were there to support in a night of debauchery, supposedly. 

That had been the first time Stolas had felt truly and utterly crushed since he was ten years old and learned his fate. And that had been the moment the Prince had stepped away from his gathering of drunken miscreants and found the perch at the bar he’d been occupying since. 

“Why not?” his drinking partner continued to question. “This place boasts some of the sexiest men in Lust as well as women. Your friends chose a good spot to take you.”

“The only reason we could come here is because this is personally owned by the King of Lust himself. If it weren’t, we wouldn't be.”

“Yes, King Asmodeus is very certain about making his places really sing,” the mysterious man at his side said, and, yep, Stolas was certain this guy had to be the manager of the establishment. Why else would he sing the praises of the Ruler of Lust if not hoping to receive some kind of acknowledgement or incentive for the positive words? But then Stolas felt a pressure on his thigh and looked down to see that the man had leaned into his area again and was using one hand to massage the muscles under it gently. The owl Prince felt his body tense at the contact, but not in a bad way. Only he wasn’t used to such a tender touch, and especially not from another man. Once his mind registered the contact, he looked back up to see those golden green eyes looking at him from the darkness that concealed his face. “And he wants to make sure those who come to indulge and really enjoy themselves.” 

Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit. 

“No need to be shy, birdie babe. Just want to make sure you’re being treated right.” 

Stolas was certain he probably looked like a frightened mouse having been caught by a mighty lion as he stared at the devilishly seductive guy touching him so plainly and yet intimately as well. Just a simple touch, but one that had the owl’s face aflame, and his breathing became quicker and shallower. He was looking at a predator, but one that he didn’t wish to leave. 

No, if anything, he wanted him to stay and continue to press the boundaries of what was correct and appropriate. Those fools he was being forced to entertain for the night were too lost in their own debauchery to have even noticed him missing, and here he was with the chance to be daring and attempt what his heart and body both yearned for. But for some reason, he could not get his mind to command his body to do anything beyond staring at the guy to his side and silently begging him to keep going. 

It took a few precious moments before he finally found his voice, but along with it came another that sounded in his mind:

You are an embarrassment!

What the fuck is wrong with you?

Why would anyone want to touch…ugh, that?

His fiancée’s words were always there, ready to replay each cruel insult the moment he felt a moment’s peace or the possibility of doing something daring. It was set to remind the foolish Prince that none of what he was thinking about at this moment was actually what was happening. This man, who was still lightly rubbing his leg and giving him a leering look, was just a businessman who wanted to ensure they wouldn’t be giving the establishment a negative review since the man of the hour was more interested in their liquor than their girls. If anything, his trying to be overly flirtatious was just a last-ditch effort to find some way to satisfy the starving Prince of Hell. 

“Oh, well, I…I’m sure you have other places you’d prefer to be right now. Other patrons who need your attention. You don’t have-”

“Do you always push away men when they try to flirt with you?” Stolas gulped at the question, feeling like he had already fucked up his one chance to get, perhaps, to live even a minute percentage of what his lustful mind had felt before with the dancer. No, he was too stupid to take the Lucifer forsaken chance when it finally appeared. Yet, the man didn’t move, didn’t release the hold he had on the Prince’s thigh. Instead of walking away, he just smiled at the nervous owl. “I know you’re not used to it, but this is your night. And you should have whatever it is you want.”

What he wanted? Right now, it was for this sexy stranger to lean in even more and perhaps pull him into the darkness that concealed his face for a passionate kiss. That would make the besotted royal happy. Stolas felt his body starting to lean in a little but then stopped with the man offering, “So, tell me which of the boys you fancy here and perhaps we could get you a…private dance.”

And there it was—the strings. The transactional nature always seemed to come when he was around people. Everyone wanted something from him. Stella wanted a position. Andrealphus wants prestige. His father wanted control. And this man? He just wanted to keep his business from gaining the reputation of being unable to satisfy a member of Hell’s royalty. Such it seemed was Stolas’ fate.

“That is a kind offer,” the suddenly reluctant owl said as he forced himself to sit properly in his seat once more and turned his focus to the alcoholic beverage before him that had been refreshed without needing to be requested. The pressure on his thigh left, and it made a stinging sensation strike the Prince in his gut and his already weary heart. “But I don’t think it would be appropriate for me to…”

To enjoy myself. 

To be reckless. 

To live.

“Suit yourself, Your Highness,” the kind stranger said as he finished his flute and put it down on the bar. Stolas wasn’t certain if it was resignation or disappointment he heard in the man’s tone, nor did he care to truly figure it out with how heavy his soul suddenly felt. “Not very often someone turns down a free dance.”

“I’m sure. I just…it would be too awkward, I think.” A terribly excuse, but the only one the owl Prince could come up with. He felt his drinking partner shift in his seat and rise to stand as he straightened his coat, preparing to depart. His final words to the saddened royal, however, caught him off guard. 

“No more awkward than what they have planned for you later.”

Before Stolas could ask what he meant, the man was heading for the front door. He left the building, making Stolas rethink his previous assumption that he’d been speaking with the person overseeing the operations of the strip club/brothel. Had this really been someone interested in him and willing to help the desperate owl have his momentary fun? And he had mistakenly thought this whole moment was just a means to ensure the royal flock was enjoying themselves. 

Fuck, he really was a foolish Prince. 

“There you are, Stolas!” The familiar sound of his cousin (so distant Stolas wasn’t even sure what his official title was) came quickly up behind him, and the owl was only able to look over his shoulder briefly before he was tackled by the very drunk pigeon, nearly knocking him from his stool. The irritated owl didn’t chastise the man, though, not wishing to put a damper on the mood—at least the others were having fun on his night. 

“Come on, buddy. You’re getting married. And to a hot piece of ass like Stella,” the inebriated avian spoke vulgarly. He would have been severely reprimanded for making such a comment about his fiancée by their King, his father. But the King wasn’t here, so all he got was an eyeroll, and it was not because of his conduct. Seeing this, the duller gray bird just scoffed. “Ah, man, whatever. Come on, Andy wants us to meet up at the front.”

Oh goody. Stolas was yanked from his barstool. He didn’t have a chance to pay for his drink, but then remembered that they had given him the black credit card that most coveted, only the elite had access to, with the receptionist at the front desk. It was intended to cover all charges, with no limit—courtesy of King Paimon. 

When the unfortunate groom was pulled into the front lobby, he was quickly greeted by the other groomsmen, who were each boasting about the women they’d had grinding on them and showing the pictures they’d managed to sneak, knowing full well it was against the rules. Truly, the younger generation of the Ars Goetia’s peerage were reckless idiots who thought nothing, not even the might King Asmodeus, could touch them. Andrealphus and Vassago were standing at the reception desk, no doubt settling the bill. It was clear they had also pushed the limits of what was allowed in this den of flesh and fornication by how rumpled their attire had become and how Vassago’s hand couldn’t help continuing to play with the feathers on the Marquis’ bicep softly.

“Thank you,” the snarky voice remarked to the lady behind the counter, and then he and his fellow member of the groom’s party joined the others who stood around waiting for them. “Are we all here? Good. Now, boys, as you all know, tonight is on King Paimon’s dime, and he told me to make sure we live it up. So, we will be heading to one of Lust’s most sinful jazz lounges.”

“They have a tenor whose voice is perfecto,” the more dynamic half of the fire and ice duo said as he gently swayed his hips in gleeful anticipation. Stolas felt the heaviness that had settled on him coming into the ovelry loud and bright establishment starting to melt away as finally they were going to do something that he actually wanted. 

“Why didn’t we go there first?” the groom couldn’t help inquire, and got an irritated look from the frosty peacock for having dared question his planning of this evening’s events. 

“Because we needed to pregame. And not everything is about you, Stolas.”

Sure, everything is not about me…on a night that’s literally supposed to be about me. The Prince of Hell wanted ot scream the snarky comment at their group’s leader, but instead stood there and did his best to conceal the internal eyeroll he was giving his brother-in-law. Still, he pointed out, “But this is my bachelor party.”

“Insignificant details,” Andrealphus retorted with a few waves of his hand. And then he got a very feindish look on his face as he looked at the others who stood around the young owl Prince and seemed to share a knowing look. Like they were all in on a secret, and one Stolas felt he wasn’t going to be happy about. “Now, gentleman, before we leave, we need to help our groom to his room.”

“M-My room?” was all the confused groom could get out before the two groomsmen at his sides grabbed him by his biceps and began walking him towards the elevator. The first floor of this establishment was the strip club part, where people could come in and ogle the dancers to their heart's content. The upper floors were for those seeking more than just a dance and a tease. And with each level the tiny box, stuffed full with drunken feathery men, climbed, he knew that the quality of the high-end brothel was getting ritzier and ritzier until they arrived at the top floor and he was once more being forced to walk down the hallway to the only other door present. Andrealphus was at the head of the group and had the room unlocked and opened for the ones forcing the owl Prince to move to shove him in. 

Stolas had always been kind of clumsy, but there was no saving him from the rather harsh shove that made him trip over his own taloned feet and fall face-first on the marble flooring of the darkened suite. He didn’t bother trying to rise but turned and looked at the different men whom he had ventured out, who were all sniggering at his miserable position. All save Vassago, who had a concerned look on his face. 

“What is-”

“You, dear Stolas, will not be joining us as YOU have a date, ” Andrealphus informed, and there was something very sinister in his words. 

“A-A date? With who?” the fearful groom asked, but already knew he would most likely not enjoy the answer. 

“Why with one of Lust’s most skilled succubuses…Ms. Verosika Mayday.”

That name made a shiver of dread run through the Prince. Verosika Mayday, aspiring singer and most notoriously promiscuous woman in all of Hell. It was said that she changed partners as easily as she changed her underwear. And her impressive list of lovers wasn’t the only thing she was known for, too. Her mind was as vicious as it was creative in writing songs, and often they were about lovers who had disappointed her in some way and were now being eternally viscerated by her catchy lyrics. Her most recent conquest must have been one of the worst ones to displease the siren-like succubus since he had a whole album dedicated to how much she loathed him. 

And the reality of the trap he had just been placed in was becoming clear as Stolas could already see his name being added to his list of those she would truly obliterate in song. 

“What?” he dared to question, but knew his thoughts about this arrangement mattered none to the icy peacock who had set this trap for him. 

“Well, you need some experience,” the smug blue bitch offered, trying to make it sound like a reasonable thing to do for a naive royal’s bachelor party. “Can’t have you flopping all over my sister like some kind of fish gasping for air, now can I? And only the finest will do for our dear Prince.”

“But-”

“Come on, Stolas,” Andrealphus quickly cut in. “It’s all for fun. And besides, who wouldn’t want to bed the sexiest sex goddess in all of Hell? Only a GAY man wouldn’t. And you’re not one…are you?”

Oh, this was indeed a very clever trap that his cunning brother-in-law had laid for him. He wasn’t permitted to reveal his true self to any of the court, and right now, five men were laughing like the drunken fools ready to bear witness to Stolas’ confession if he affirmed what Andrealphus was pressuring him to. To openly admit he wasn’t interested in women and utterly ruin his reputation. All in an attempt to either embarrass the higher-ranking noble or to perhaps lay down the groundwork for any possible attempts at a divorce in the future for his sister. 

Stolas already knew that would never happen, as Stella had already proven she was willing to go through with the farce of a marriage for the sake of a crown and a title. 

“Andrea, that is enough,” Vassago chided. He didn’t dare look at the owl that still sat on the floor a few feet from him, and this made Stolas wonder if he had been wrong in thinking that Vassago was indeed a friend since he was clearly willing to go along with this diabolical plot his boyfriend/lover/fuckuationship was purposing. 

“Party pooper,” the icy bird pouted to his partner in crime, and only when Vassago looked away from him in defeat did he smile and once more look at the distraught Stolas. “So, we are off to have the most amazing night, and your date will be up here soon. Ta-ta!”

With that, each of the groomsmen offered their encouragement to the shattered owl Prince and headed back for the elevator. Andrealphus waited until they had left before providing his own smug farewell and then sauntered to follow them. Vassago hesitated in the doorway, clearly fighting a battle within himself on what he should do, but the side that would have intervened was quickly defeated when his pale partner said, “Vassago, I need you.” 

The red parrot sighed and finally looked at his friend with an apologetic look before grabbing the doorknob and sealing the devastated groom to his fate. 

Fuck, was the only thing Stolas could think of at first as he sat in the empty room he’d been left in. Outside, some red and blue neon lights cascaded inside, illuminating the room in their soft glow. From where the owl had landed, he could see a large, wide couch on one end of the large suite, while the other was the open bedroom with the obscenely large bed framed with a heart-shaped headboard. It was a plush place for a quick rendezvous and probably cost a small fortune to obtain. No expense had been spared for his utter disgrace, and Stolas didn’t know if he should be grateful or not that at least his brother-in-law’s villainous plan had been enacted in such a high-end establishment. 

On the side of the bed was a sign that read: All visitors must wash before appointments.

Sure…a bath sounds nice.

Stolas reluctantly forced himself to stand once more and hesitated at first to go anywhere as the reality of his terrible situation sank in. He was fucked, and not in the way he would have liked, with Ms. Mayday on her way to utterly doom him with her vicious ways. She was the tool that Andrealphus was wielding to make the Prince of Hell’s life even more miserable, and Stolas felt like there was nothing he could do to fix the problem before him. The clever peacock had left him with no way out that didn’t either leave him repulsed by a talented vocalist or by himself. 

No, he was truly and utterly fucked. 

Shuffling his talons across the shiny flooring, Stolas went through the only other door in the space and found a large tub much like his at the palace, but more modern in style, awaiting him with a freshly drawn hot bath. He didn’t know if someone had been sent up ahead of them to craft this for his use, which could only mean that this had been planned for a while now. Those who were supposed to be his closest friends and associates had all been in on this ruse of an attempt to give him some much-needed experience. They had all been deceiving him all night, and he felt like an utter fool for believing them for even a moment. 

At least the steaming waters would conceal his utter regret at having even agreed to coming out this evening as he allowed his sorrows to fall from his eyes. 

He was a fool. An utter ignoramus who would blindly believe anyone who claimed to be his friend at the simplest gesture of kindness. Hadn’t he learned his lesson the last time someone had used his want to be liked against him? When that imp clown boy had robbed him of most of his treasures, he had merrily gone right along with the plan. Had he not learned then what being a royal meant, he wouldn’t have a friend. Not a true one. 

More water was added to the bath as Stolas lay in the bath’s warm embrace and tried to fight the rising bile as he knew each second that passed was just one more gone before his “guest” would be there. And then what? What was he to do? Should he talk with her about the situation? Explain to her that this was being done to humiliate him and possibly ruin his reputation amongst the royals of Hell? Would she be understanding or merciful towards him? 

Highly unlikely by how cruel her latest hit album was. 

No, trying to convince the harsh critic of lovers to take pity on the man who was paying for a chance with her was hopeless. So, he was left with only two other options. Either spring the trap and allow himself to be ruined before the Ars Goetia. Or to endure this trial by fire and perform well enough not to end up on the following top ten list of her hit songs. 

Oh, how he dreaded both prospects, but knew his time had run out when he heard the click of the front door to the suite. Stolas went stock still in the bathtub and waited to see if he could hear anything else. Perhaps his vivid imagination had made him believe he had heard Ms. Mayday’s arrival. But then there were footsteps, and regrettably, he acknowledged the reality that he was no longer alone in the high-priced room.

“Um, M-Ms. Mayday? Ma’am?” Stolas tentatively called out but received only silence. No doubt she was waiting for him to join her, possibly also preparing herself for what they were about to do. The rising star was also a well-known drinker and was no doubt availing herself of the mini-bar within the room. He would join her in whatever she was having and, with a sigh of resignation, rose from the comforting space he’d found and began quickly drying his feathers. 

On the back of the bathroom door was a single red robe, trimmed in a deeper burgundy stripe that was clearly meant for guests' use. He quickly donned it, enjoying the buttery feel of the material against his feathers and skin. It was heavier than it looked, but the weight wasn’t unappealing. If anything, it kind of made Stolas feel as though he were being embraced from behind…possibly by a lover. 

An excellent article of clothing that made the stressed owl look at himself and realize that now he was at a threshold moment in his life…and it was time he did something to take back the control he’d been forced to give up, consequences be damned. 

With a resolved nod to the Prince of Hell in the mirror, Stolas turned and flung open the door to the bathroom to reenter the suite, ready to do whatever was necessary to end this farce. “Ms. Mayda, I don’t know what you’ve-Oh! It’s….It’s you.”

“Yep, it’s me,” the charming stranger from earlier said with a smirk as he sat on the couch at the other end of the room from where Stolas stood, his long legs that Stolas had not noticed before crossed and gently rocking back and forth at almost a hypnotic pace. 

Stolas suddenly became very aware of himself in this moment as he stared at the mysterious gentleman he had thought had left before. Perhaps he hadn’t left the establishment entirely but instead went outside to handle something more important than entertaining a whining royal. Even with the neon illumination in the room, the fur trimming the man’s coat continued to hide his face. Still, his glowing eyes traveled over the standing royal’s form, and the owl realized that in his haste to confront the aspiring singer, he had forgotten to secure his robe closed. 

Quickly, Stolas pulled the material around himself and began frantically tying the sash. “W-What are you doing here?”

“Ms. Mayday regrettably will not be able to make it this evening.”

“OH!” the elated Prince of Hell couldn’t help expressing, but then realized he sounded too eager at having avoided the catastrophic lyricist and so gave a slight cough and added. “Oh, yes.  That is unfortunate. Well, I hope everything is okay.”

“I am certain everything is fine, but she does send her regrets.”

“Yes, sure. I appreciate letting me know.” Stolas did his best to remain outwardly respectfully stoic…but inside, he was performing a Broadway musical of joy at how the tables had turned for his brother-in-law’s well-laid plan. Now, he could leave with his head held high and his reputation intact. “Well, since she is unavailable, I should leave then.”

Before the elated Prince could turn to retrieve his clothes from the bathroom and get out of this disastrous situation, the suave man seated before him remarked, “Since she cannot fulfill her obligations to you, I am here to stand in for her.”

Stolas was certain the sound of a recording scratching could be heard coming from him, and he stared wide-eyed at this stranger in his room, grinning at him much in the same way he had when they had been seated at the bar. 

“Y-You are?” the now nervous owl asked and felt even more confused about who this person was and how things had ended up in this unique situation. “Wait, but…aren’t you the manager or something? I thought-”

“Will you have me, Stolas?” 

A simple question, but one that was loaded with so much for the royal that was standing in the middle of the ample open space. He…Was he serious? Was he truly offering himself as a potential partner for the man who had only recently confessed to being a closeted homosexual and just wanting one night of wild passion before an eternity of misery married to the shrew of Hell? 

Stolas clearly took too long to answer as the sultry-looking gentleman asked in another way, “Am I appealing enough for you…Your Highness?”

“I…I…” The poor owl’s brain was short-circuiting as he felt his cheeks flush with a mixture of wanting this to be really happening and a reluctance to agree to anything.

“I need words, birdie babe.” Jesus Christ, why did that moniker sound so utterly tempting and inviting for the confused and anxious Prince? Again, he was standing at a threshold moment. One that could grant him a fantastic evening to help him through his regretful marriage, or one that would utterly ruin him before all of high society. It was a heavy decision to make, but the man sat before him seemed restless to know his choice. “Will you-”

“Yes!” Stolas quickly blurted out, having not truly made up his mind in the split second he felt he was given to decide his fate, but instead relying on his instincts to tell him which was the right choice. “Sorry. Yes. You are…appealing.”

“Good,” the man responded with a confident smirk. “Though, before we begin anything, Stolas, there is one thing that you should be aware of.”

The curious Prince wondered if this was when any rules about their interaction would be laid down. He remembered in one of the more lurid novels he’d found in the library of his home and devoured in the span of two days had featured a lady prostitute, and he could recall her usual speech she gave to each of her clients: no kissing, no cuddling, payment up front. Well, at least one of those he knew had already been handled. The other two…he would try not to be too disappointed, since at least he was being given a chance, he felt he never would have if others in his life had their say. 

What he wasn’t expecting was for the dark, debonair man before him to suddenly become engulfed in bluish flames trimmed in pink, much like the coloring of his coat. Stolas could only stand there utterly transfixed as the man he had come to confide in was stripped away, and left behind was the familiar blue-feathered and maned King of Lust, Asmodeus, dressed in his usual sinfully appealing business suit with his thigh-high boots and red, white, and black tail feathers draped over the edge of the couch he sat upon. 

“As-Asmodeus!” Stolas squaked at the sight of the Ring’s ruler before him and instantly realized his error in speaking so informally to one of Hell’s lead rulers. Offering a rushed bow, he quickly corrected his mistake. “Your Majesty!” 

“Surprise, birdie babe,” the dashingly handsome Sin said with a smirk that could be felt in his words since Stolas was still bent over and staring down at the shiny reflective surface beneath him. There was a moment of silence before the higher-ranking royal spoke again. “You can rise, Stolas. Don’t like my partners all bending over to me…at least not yet.”

The Prince of Hell watched his face flush a deep crimson at the scandalous tone and cunning remark the more prolific lover he bowed to spoke, and heard his deep chuckle, showing he had seen the same thing. That sound…oh, it was making his insides twist as the reality of the situation was slowly settling into Stolas’ mind. He…he was…he would…with the embodiment of Lust…

Oh shit.

“Relax, pretty boy,” the devilishly handsome royal said with a smirk, enjoying the nervously twitching bundle he had turned his companion into. “This is gonna be fun.”

“But…” Stolas struggled to come up with what to say, and only one question kept coming to mind. “Why me?”

“Why not you?”

“You’re a King of Hell. You’re the most renowned lover in all the Rings. Why would you want to…” The flustered Prince felt he couldn’t complete his statement, fearing the answer she would get as much as he desperately wanted to know. Was this another part of Andrealphus’ game? Had he somehow tricked the Sin of Lust into tormenting the naive avian? No, that didn’t see right to him. Asmodeus didn’t have the reputation for being as cynical as some of the other Sins. He was fun and carefree, much like Lucifer and Beelzebub. They were often seen together at parties, having fun and enjoying themselves thoroughly. 

Perhaps this was more out of sympathy. Stolas had basically spent their entire previous interaction laying out their sad, sorry tale for the disguised royal. Maybe he just really felt sorry for the struggling groom and wanted to give him a fun experience, since clearly he was being set up to have his first time with someone other than his future bride. Somehow, thinking this was done out of pity made this whole situation feel even worse. Like being with him was being done to make the other person feel better, for at least having tried to make things easier. Again, that didn’t feel right with the reputation that the Sin of Lust had. Even when he patted the seat next to him, inviting Stolas to sit at his side on the couch, the flustered and nervous avian tried to still reason things out in a way that didn’t make him feel queasy with negative feelings. 

“First, if you’re thinking I came looking for you, you can go ahead and let that go,” the kind ruler explained, but in a way that was warm and inviting by the smile he had and the softness of his eyes. “Our paths just happened to cross when I came in to check on operations. Gotta make sure my dancers are doing good and that there isn’t any kind of underhanded things going on.”

“Do things like that happen in your realm?” the owl, who still sat kind of hunched over with uncertainty, inquired. 

“You’d be surprised. When Lust is involved, people tend to lose their common sense. Plus, Mamm’s always looking for ways to wiggle his ugly ass fingers into the other realms too. Had to throw his pawns out a few times.”

“Oh my.”

“Yes. I use my incognito look when I don’t want to be noticed, and I was about to leave when I saw you. You looked like you would rather be anywhere else but here, and that isn’t something I expect at one of my places. So I figured I’d see what was going on. Then, you explained your situation, and it made sense why you were looking that way.”

So…he was here out of pity. That somehow was both comforting and depressing at the same time. Honestly, no one would ever want to be with such a-

Asmodeus’ hand was under the sorrowful Prince’s chin, and tilted his face up until he was staring directly into those golden green eyes that glowed with a light almost as entrancing as what the neon lights outside did. He was like a moth staring into unknown danger but unable to pull away from it. And that voice…

“No sadness either. It’s not one of my kinks.” Stolas gulped at how that sexy, deep, rich voice enveloped him, and his reaction seemed to please the King of Lust, who smiled at him in ways that made his feather fluff up with wanton heat. Yet, he only lingered for a moment, holding the captivated owl’s gaze before easing back into his seat and leaving the poor avian man flustered in so many ways. “Anyways, I remembered seeing in the books our regal suite being rented and that Verosika was set to appear. Put two and two together and did a little reworking to make tonight better for you.”

“Oh. Well, I-I thank you for your intervention. It…But, please take no offense, when I ask why you choose not to send one of your other male workers in. Why did you come yourself?”

Thankfully, the Sin seemed more amused than offended by the lesser noble’s question. “I could indeed have gotten my top-earning boy to come in here…but where’s the fun in that. Besides, you paid for the best of the best. And who’s better than me?”

“No one, I’m certain, sire,” Stolas admitted with a new tint warming his cheeks. Lucifer, this man was going ot make him dizzy with how much he was making the blood in his veins rush around his body. 

“Please, call me Ozz,” Asmodeus spoke encouragingly. “All that title shit really kills the mood, don’t you think?”

Stolas managed to nod quickly before there was a knock on the door that startled him so severely he promptly stood and gripped the opening to his robe tightly so he was even more shielded from anyone viewing his naked form. Oh, Lucifer, he was naked with a Sin in a hotel room. Surely, whoever was on the other side of the door had come at Andrealphus’ behest. No doubt to take pictures of the owl Prince in a compromising position with Ms. Mayday, and had unknowingly stumbled upon something even more deliciously scandalous. Asmodeus, however, seemed entertained by the sudden anxious movements of his partner before supplying a more reasonable answer. 

“That should be the complimentary cart of treats that comes with the room. Will you get it?”

“O-of course.” Stolas felt like an idiot at his overreaction to a simple knock at the door. But could anyone blame him for not thinking the worst had still yet to happen, given how he had been left in the room? The nervous groom walked quickly to the door. He opened it to see a rather handsome incubus pushing a small rolling cart filled with honey figs, oysters, chocolate-covered strawberries, almonds dusted in chili powder, and two flute glasses with a bottle of champagne between them. 

This was a master assemblage of known aphrodisiacs, meant to further entice those in the suite into fulfilling their lustful needs. The incubus kept his eyes on the cart, perhaps worried about offending the Ring’s ruler if he appeared too nosy into the usually private Sin’s business, and he didn’t even wait around for a tip once he’d placed the cart in front of a nearby wall. Stolas wished he could have at least thanked the man, but was once more very aware of how he was alone with Hell’s most sought-after lover. 

“W-Would you care for a drink?” the even more nervous owl asked and began pouring them each a glass. While he stood there, Stolas did his best to try to calm his rising nervousness, but all his efforts went out the window when he felt a tall, muscular form pressed firmly against him. Asmodeus had moved from the couch without making a sound and now was standing so closely to the young Prince that he could feel his breath tickling his neck feathers. From the corner of his eyes, he could see the glowing cyan color of the Sin of Lust’s mane, and it just…oh, Stolas could tell that his knees would absolutely buckle if the sexy man laid even the gentlest of kisses there. 

“Thanks, birdie babe,” the King of Lust purred before reaching around to take the champagne flute made for him and returning to where he had been sitting. Stolas wabbled a little on unsteady talons and had to slightly lean forward on the cart’s frame just to try and regain some level of composure. Oh, this man…this fiend who was loving playing with his prey. And to the Prince’s surprise…he liked it. He enjoyed being toyed with in this manner. It reminded him of all the tense, sultry moments he read about so often. 

“So, tell me some more about what you like,” the Sin inquired as he took a sip, while the anxious owl returned to his seat as well. “What are you into?”

“I-I am not certain. I’ve never…been with anyone before.”

“Never?” Asmodeus asked, thoroughly intrigued by the blushing man before him. “Oh my. Not often do you find a virgin in Hell. Being such a…clean palate to explore your desires. I envy you for that.”

Stolas gave him a puzzled look, and that had the King of Lust chuckling. “Honest. I’ve been around so long and done so many things with so many different kinds of people. It’s hard to find something new for me.”

“Surely there is something you wish to experience that you haven’t yet,” the young Prince mused, but then worried that perhaps he had just unknowingly set himself up to help fulfill whatever kind of kinky, debaucherous act the prolific lover had been itching to try out and just not found the right, willing partner.

“Not that I-,” Asmodeus began, but then hesitated, and his suave smile faltered a little as he really seemed to consider his reply. “Well, there is one.”

“And what’s that?” the owl man at his side asked, hoping he wasn’t being too impertinent. 

“Something…earnest and real.”

Stolas looked at the royal ruler he sat with and felt like he was seeing a side of him that was usually reserved for when the King of Hell was alone. He always had this big bravado about him, but now…now he looked less regal, more real. “Most people I sleep with do it because they want the ‘honor’ of being with the King of Lust. To be able to say they bedded a Sin, and for the most part, it’s fun. I get the appeal. But that doesn’t mean that I can’t want something more intimate. Something really special when two people want each other and for no other reason than just to connect.”

“You’ve never felt wanted?” the young Prince questioned, trying not to sound too sympathetic or pitying as he looked at the carefree Sin with seemingly new eyes. 

“I’ve been desired, Stolas, but never wanted.” Even though the embodiment of Lust still tried to keep a smile on his face, his mask was slipping, and the owl at his side wondered if the man who frequently had others in his bed felt as lonely as he did at most times. 

“That…that sounds so sad,” Stolas absentmindedly spoke and then worried he had offended the man who had come to save him. “Sorry.”

“It is and it isn’t. I mean, I get amazing sex whenever I want. Fully indulge in myself, which is nice. But afterwards…Well, enough about me. This night is about you.”

“I suppose, but…thank you for feeling you could be that open and honest with me.”

“Not many people I trust enough to, but with you…only seems fair since you were with a stranger.”

Stolas felt himself flush as he chuckled at the reminder of their previous interaction. “You’re right. Something just felt safe about talking with you.”

That made the Sin’s smile widen, and he took another sip before it seemed he was ready to get back to business. “Now, back to you. Since you’ve already said you haven’t tested the water, let's say, with others, what about when it's just you?”

“Oh, I…” Stolas blushed again at the straightforward question. 

“Any toys you like or don’t?

“No! No, my father…he would…”

“So you’ve only touched yourself.”

“Yes.”

“More than once?”

“A couple of times.”

“And?” Asmodeus probed for more details and was stunned by the reply he got from his increasingly shy partner. 

“It was…fine.”

“Fine?” the embodiment of Lust incredulously asked. “Just ‘fine’?” 

When Stolas continued to look away in embarrassment, having not given as satisfactory an answer as he had hoped, the King of the Ring gave a slight shake of his head. “Oh, no, birdie babe. If it doesn’t make your talons curl and your feathers feel like they’re about to pop out, you ain’t doing it right.”

The naive Prince felt awkward and embarrassed before the King of Lust. His attempts to learn his body and what felt good when touched had apparently been substandard at best. Even after reading some of his more racier novels and even looking at an anatomy book for avians, the inept owl hadn’t been successful in even making himself feel the true heights of pleasure. No wonder others found the prospect of him riling another comical. 

“Here,” Asmodeus said and placed his glass on a nearby side table to the couch. Then, without warning, he reached down to scoop up the lithe legs of the Prince and brought them up over his thighs. Stolas nearly froze at the contact, feeling awkward and quickly placing his drink down on the floor to keep it from spilling all over himself and his nice robe. Asmodeus seemed to enjoy how flustered his partner became as he shifted to lie slightly on his side, which brought him mostly at level with the young owl’s head. The nervous groom shivered as he felt the very confident and sexy man gently caress the sides of his taloned feet. “Let me show you. Lay back.”

The flustered avian did as he was told, lying himself down entirely on the soft seating they were now lounging on, and he stared up at the crisp white ceiling that danced with the lights of the neon signs outside. But his focus was instead on the soft, feathery hand that was making its slow trek up his ankle and calf before tickling at the back of his knees and then roaming up his thigh. 

Oh shit. Oh shit. 

Stolas prepared himself for the dashingly charismatic ruler to touch him in an area that only he had ever explored before. Still, to his surprise, the hand bypassed the region entirely, smoothly gliding across flesh and feathers heading for his lower abdomen. Then, it stopped just at the beginning of the opening to the lower half of the robe he wore, which was barely concealing anything now. Feeling that massive hand reach up and tug at the belt made the owl Prince shiver in anticipation, earning him an amused chuckle. 

“Already trembling and we haven’t even done anything,” Asmodeus teased, and Stolas dared to look at him to see the smirk that he had caused. He wanted to give some kind of witty retort in an attempt not to appear so inexperienced in such moments. But he couldn’t when the knot he had made with the belt was expertly undone with one hand by the Sin of Lust, and his warm, knowing hands were diving into the feathers on his belly again to travel the length of the splayed out avian. 

“That’s it, Stolas. Relax for me.” Oh, fuck that voice again, it was making the Prince of Hell want to crawl out of his own skin. He had to be doing that on purpose. Perhaps with some kind of magic sex spell to make just the sound of him speaking ignite fiery passion in all who heard it. Surely, that was what was going on and not that this glorious Sin was just that damn sexy. The hand that had been exploring the gray-feathered avian lying on the couch continued its upward ascent, but then hesitated at the base of his neck, the thumb gently stroking one side. At the same time, the other fingers nearly curled completely around the slender frame. 

“Good,” Asmodeus cooed, sending a ripple of arousal through Stolas, and then he shifted once more so he could press the smaller, more delicate-looking avian into the couch with his weight and began kissing the thin neck with soft, gentle pecks. A sigh escaped the Prince of Hell, and he felt so awkward, not sure what he should be doing beyond lying there. His hands and arms suddenly felt very uncomfortable. Was he supposed to be touching the man he was lying under? Should he throw his arms around his shoulders or neck? It was strange, but each wave of pleasure made the stress of being completely inexperienced sink into the bottom of the lustful ocean he was being swept up into. 

Thankfully, his more experienced guide seemed to sense his frustrations with himself and his inaction, and that hand that had been at his neck was removed and tracing itself down the arm that wasn’t currently being pinned down. It gripped the tiny wrist of the owl Prince and brought it up to lie on the part of his chest where there was a small tuft of hair, which Stoals liked to display when he could proudly. It was the one part of himself he felt was at least somewhat appealing since his soon-to-be wife made it clear no other parts were. 

“You gotta really get into it, Stolas,” the King of Lust guided and brought his hand to rest on the still one after having slowly peeled back the remaining layers of fabric that shielded the avian man he lay upon, making the nervous groom tremble at being fully exposed. “Tease yourself. Make your body wake up and want it.”

And with those encouraging words, Asmodeus began guiding the pliant hand that followed him as it started slowly dragging through teh feathers of Stolas’ chest, sternum, stomach, and lower abdomen before circling to glide over the curve of his miniscule ass before coming up the sides of his exposed thigh, which became heavy and shifted further to the side on its own accord. That made the cool air of the room touch the area between the owl’s thighs that had become heated and wet with desire.

When Stolas realized that was the next destination his hand was being guided to, he tensed a little. That was an area he had never touched while in the presence of another, and even though the frame pushing him down into the cushions was the literal embodiment of Lust, he still felt somewhat awkward. But Asmodeus just chuckled, his breath tickling at the young Prince’s neck as he spoke, “I got you. Relax, pretty bird.”

And so Stolas did. He forced his body to ease once more as he felt the familiar sensation of his thin fingertips ghosting over feathers that were dampened with his own slick. On top of them were the more girthy and forceful ones of the King of Lust, but they were tender in their touch as they guided the lithier digits towards the opening that was hidden within. The frantic owl’s breath caught as he traced the outside rim of his somewhat familiar opening, and that made a soft, almost growl form the impassioned man he lay under. Or perhaps it had come from one of the two faces that floated through his lovely blue mane. Either way, Asmodeus was enjoying making the man whose room he had willingly walked into ignite with a burning need to know everything he had to show. 

“Don’t worry,” the charming ruler spoke softly. “I’m right here. I’ll help you.”

Stolas didn’t know if he should keep his eyes open or shut. The last time he had done this, he had stared at the starry canopy of his bed and spent part of the time marveling at the different star patterns while he tried to find somewhere within the wet hole that felt pleasurable. Perhaps that had been part of the reason why his experiences of pleasuring himself had only been labeled as “fine”. So, he dared to close his eyes so he could fully focus on the sensations of what was happening and utterly indulge when he felt two of his fingers being guided inside. The owl Prince scrunched his face a little, still not used to the stretched feeling he felt when doing this, but it wasn’t out of pain. No, it felt…fine.

But then the more girthy fingers of Asmodeus followed them inside as well, and suddenly Stolas found himself gasping for air and his back arching up at the intrusion. Again, it wasn’t painful, just surprising as he had only ever experienced his slim digits before, and not as deep as the Sin was making both of theirs go into his body.

“Ah,” he sighed once they were entirely inside, but remained still to allow him time to adjust, he surmised.

“Mmm, so warm and tight. So hungry,” the King of the Ring spoke deeply, and he shifted on the couch to make sure he could fully control the fingers he was wielding, all while keeping his mouth and breath firmly at the side of the panting Prince’s neck.

Asmodeus seemed to wait until the muscles encasing both of their fingers stopped pulsating from the stretch before he pushed at the ones his hand was instructing, and they rubbed further into the Prince of Hell’s core than they ever had before. Stolas couldn’t help sighing and squirming while his and his partner’s hands were making rhythmic motions inside of him. It was causing the poor, flustered owl’s head to spin and his senses to suddenly become very aware of the musky smell of desire filling the room. “Mmm, Stolas. You smell so good.”

“A-Asmodeus,” the flamed Prince sighed.

“Ozz, please,” the great King of Hell corrected, and for a moment, Stolas wondered if there was almost a pleading sound to his tone. Like he didn’t want to hear his own name on his partner’s, but the more intimate one that he had been permitted to use, perhaps hearing his given name reminded him of the Sin of when those he shared his bed with were only after prestige or fame and not about wanting to be intimate with the man behind the crown, truly.

“Ozz,” Stolas sighed once more, but made sure that his partner could hear the depths of his desire as those knowing fingers pushed in a third set, making him nearly cry out in pleasure. The stretch felt so divine that the Prince of Hell wondered if he was getting a sneak peek at what the essence of heavenly power was. And then his fingertips brushed over something, and he jolted again while mumbling out something incoherent even to him, which earned him a throaty chuckle.

“There you are,” the great Sin said teasingly and forced Stolas to rub against it again, making him shudder with ecstasy. “That, my dear fellow, is what you want to find each time. It’s what makes your body sing. Now, keep going.”

Those thick fingers slowly withdrew from inside the owl’s body, and he whimpered at the loss but didn’t dare to stop as he continued to rub at the spot he had been shown and enjoyed each lightning strike of bliss that filled him as he continued to follow the rhythm set for him. Meanwhile, Asmodeus began peeling away the business suit that almost seemed like a second skin to the King of Lust. Stolas didn’t doubt that he probably had a spell to remove them if he so wished magically, but it was clear he was giving the rather innocent (less so since they had begun) Prince a chance to indulge in himself and perhaps find his release on his own. The reluctant avian didn’t want to, but only continued when he heard his partner’s encouragement. “Keep going. Give it all you got.”

Stolas did as he was told, always a diligent pupil, and ran his slickened digit over the area a few more times before the pressure in his gut and behind his eyes became too much for him. It broke like a damn wall crumbling under the weight of the river it tried to control. His insides twitched and tensed around his fingers, and he cried out in bliss while his eyes released a few tears of stunned glory at having felt something so amazing for the first time in his life.

Truly, he had been doing it wrong, and now he knew.

“How do you want me, Stolas?” the Sin of Lust asked, not giving the quivering man he still pressed firmly into time to think.

“I…”

“Do you want me inside you?”

“Yes! Yes, please!” The pleading need in Stolas’ words seemed to give the King of Lust all the permission he needed as he quickly scooped up the nearly limp avian and was walking over to the bed with the owl’s arms and legs wrapped around him. Gentle plops could be heard as they traveled, and surely that should have left the flushed owl embarrassed, but he was too lost in the lustful fog his own fingers had placed him in. The red robe he had been wearing was left discarded lying on the couch behind them. It was quickly forgotten by both men, who were eager to keep things going. The owl Prince’s insides were still quivering, though they had nothing to grip with, and he had to bury his head in the soft blue feathers of the Sin’s neck to stifle the whimper he gave at wanting something back inside of him. Thankfully, there wasn’t a great distance between one side of the room and the other, and both nobles bounced slightly as they fell onto the satin sheets.

Stolas felt his head spinning from the high of his first real orgasm, but it doubled in speed as Asmodeus repositioned himself between the quivering legs and saw the massive appendage dangling between his legs. It caught the Prince of Hell extremely off guard, not only by the size of it (Did that thing have its own zip code?!) but also by its presence. After all, they were both avians and, as far as he knew, had cloacas and not…that.

“Big enough for you?” Asmodeus playfully questioned, seeing how the owl’s mouth dropped in stunned (horror) surprise. “Don’t worry. It’ll be just right when it goes in.”

“O-Okay,” Stolas stuttered and then lay back, looking up into the face of the man who was about to make him feel even more than he thought he could. Once in an assured position, the Sin of Lust slowly brought their bodies closer, and the young owl felt that familiar sensation of his insides stretching. And oh, how gloriously they stretched and were filled with the hot flesh of the King of Hell. Stolas groaned as it was cautiously slid in just a little, and he breathed in deep, heavy sighs mixed with high-pitched whines of undoubted pleasure as more and more sank within his tiny frame. His curious nature wanted to look down and see if perhaps it would be noticeable, this kaiju of a cock, being carefully enveloped by his insides.

Instead, however, Stolas could only look up and stare at the pleased expression of the Sin of Lust as each inch was welcomed with the Prince’s wet warmth, and soon he stopped pushing forward when his pelvis met the opening of the smaller avian beneath him.

“Damn, Stolas,” the great lover of Hell sighed and leaned down to nuzzle into the owl’s neck as he seemingly waited for the young Prince to acclimate to having something that massive in him. “Not many people can take all of me.”

Hearing such praise made Stolas’ heart want to sing. He had, at last, done something right in his life, and it felt kind of funny that this was it.

“C-Can I k-kiss you?” the foolhardy Prince asked while his body did its best to ease around the intruding member, and Asmodeus looked up at him with such an endearing expression. One that made the owl man beneath him flush shyly, but then the great Sin leaned down and brought their two beaks together. They clacked a little as they tried to find the proper position, but once they did, the ensnaring tongue of the King of Lust had the repressed owl wishing he could be more bold and have more moments like this in his life, consequences be damned. But, somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew it wouldn’t happen, but he refused to focus on it right now as he wiggled his hips a little to prepare for what was coming next.

And his movement was the signal that the incredible Sin he lay with took as his cue to start moving. Again, he went easy on the inexperienced owl, moving in slow, lazy movements that had Stolas wanting to climb the walls with how delicious it felt with his hard, thick member dragging against his aching walls.

“Ozz,” he again sighed, but with more breath as it was getting harder and harder for him to fill his lungs anymore.

“Mmm, Stolas,” Asmodeus hummed, enjoying himself equally as much. “Fuck you feel good.”

“Ozz.”

“That’s right, birdie babe. Does it feel good?”

“Yes…oh, yes.”

“Do you like it like this?” the embodiment of Lust questioned and drove himself as deeply as he could into the smaller avian, making him cry out not only with words but with tears from how powerful this moment felt and how much bliss he could feel leaking out from where he was being thoroughly and properly ravaged. “Damn, you sing pretty. Want me to move faster?”

“Ye-ah!” Asmodeus, it seemed, only needed to know if the word began with a ‘Y’ or a ‘N’ to know if he should. As soon as the syllable came out of Stolas, he was already moving his hips faster than before and driving the Prince he was blissfully ruining towards the pinnacle of pleasure. The assault on his body and senses was too much for the inexperienced mind of the owl, the Sin was devouring with his glorious member, and it took only a few more heavy thrusts before Stolas felt his body nearly leaving his body as it contorted and spasmed deliriously while waves of ecstasy took over control. He was crying and moaning as he fought to maintain some level of control, and then he felt fuller than before and heard the King of Lust groaning out as he too found his peak of pleasure and dove right off.

“F-Fuck,” Asmodeus said both as a sigh of bliss but also with a hint of edge, and the owl Prince beneath him felt too glorious to try and figure out what was going on. The fog of Lust was heavy around them, like the thickest of blankets, but then he felt a new tingling on his abdomen and managed to look down just in time to see a sigil, most likely the Sin’s, glowing from where the King was pressing his hand there. “Sorry, pretty bird. I should have done this beforehand. I like you, but not enough to want you to have my kids.”

That felt like such an odd possibility. “I…I could?”

“Mmm, Asmodeus affirmed once his seal was affixed, and then he leaned down onto his arms, which bracketed the young owl he’d just passionately fucked, and started nuzzling the sides of his face. “My stuff is VERY potent. Gotta be careful or else there would be more my kids than hellborns in all the Rings.”

That made the slowly calming owl beneath him chuckle a little. “And you do that…every time?”

“Got to,” the great lover of Hell replied and gave a quick peck kiss to Stolas’ cheek before he dared to pull himself out and rolled over onto his side. The Prince of Hell groaned at the sudden withdrawal of his partner but then reached down curiously to touch his opening. It was swollen indeed from the massive weapon the great Sin had used to drive him into the blissful state he felt now. This…this was better than he had ever imagined, and the young avian didn’t think that it would have been any different if the man lying next to him with a pleased smirk was just an average hellborn or the King of Lust. He had given Stolas an experience that the desperate man had longed for, and it felt glorious. “So…how was it?”

“It…It was…no words.”

“Good.” The pleased Sin rolled further to lie on his back and placed both of his hands behind his head. He had a satisfied grin, and Stolas was thrilled to know that he, too, had satiated the eternal lustful drive of the King of Hell…but as the high of his bliss began to wane, the reality of his life outside of this room and this moment started to settle in.

He would soon be getting married…to a shrew of a swan…who would spend the rest of their eternal lives making him miserable…and he would be expected to bed her and produce a child…to bed a woman that repulsed him and who he repulsed in kind…and no matter what manner in which they did it…no matter what “marital aids” they might bring in to make the process easier…if she allowed such a thing…no matter what concoctions he tried to come up with to make the whole ordeal more bearable…it…

“Hey,” he heard Asmodeus’ soft soothing voice, and Stolas didn’t realize how deeply he had sunken into himself and his miserable fate until he felt a soft feathered hand on his cheek, gently guiding him to look towards the man lying next to him on his side again. Seeing that warm, pleasing face showing him such concern and tenderness…it was too much, and the grief he had been trying to keep at bay suddenly impacted his chest like Satan himself had punched him. It caused the sorrowful owl to begin leaking his anguish from all four eyes, and he struggled to choke back the sobs that rushed from his beak. That gentle hand that was on his face quickly moved around his side to press against his back and pulled him in close so the Prince could bury his face in the sweet and musky smelling blue feathers on the Sin of Lust’s chest.

“I-I-I’m sorrrry,” Stolas tried to apologize as he knew he was ruining what should be a beautiful moment, but instead of criticisms, he heard Asmodeus softly shushing him into calming down once more.

“No, sweet bird. No apologies and no tears.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Shh, Stolas.”

“I just…my wedding…Stella…”

“It’s okay,” the gentle lover Stolas clung to consoled as he pulled Stolas in even further and now had the anguished owl flush against him in a tight embrace. The King of Hell began stroking the feathers on the Prince’s back, and it did help to soothe the agonized avian somewhat.  “Thinking about the wedding night?”

Stolas could only nod.

“I’m sorry, birdie babe. I wish that I could help, but the only things I have would enhance it more. Make the sensations more intense.”

“There’s nothing…that can be done…to help…endure it? I’ll do whatev-”

“No, Stolas,” Asmodeus spoke with as much sympathy in his voice as possible and peered down at the man he held, who tried to look up at his glowing golden-green eyes but still clung to the feathers on his partner’s chest. “Not I nor any of the powers in the universe can change you to enjoy it. This is who you are and who you are meant to be.”

The sobering statement settled like a stone in Stolas’ heart, and he turned his head to press against the firm, chiseled chest he lay against. This was who the universe, in its infinite capacity and wisdom, had chosen him to be. He was a gay man, trapped in a noble position and being forced to endure a marriage for the sake of a lineage that…in truth…he could give a rat’s ass about. He didn’t care for nor want to be tied down in such a miserable way…but his wants and desires mattered none to those who had power over him. So, he needed to give up on these fantasies that somewhere out there was a spell or a potion that would make him tolerate lying with his fiancée long enough to fulfill his duty. This was just…something he would have to do. He could only hope, though, that he wouldn’t have to do it for long and that Stella would become gravid quickly. Maybe instead of focusing on changing himself, he should look into means to increase their chances of ending the obligatory necessities sooner rather than later.

“I’m sorry I ruined this,” Stolas eventually spoke as he settled into a numbing state of sobriety, neither the alcohol nor the bliss of his release being there to act as a buffer for him any longer.

“You haven’t ruined anything, Stolas,” the kind Sin said and used his hand to tilt the young avian to look at him once more so he could lean down and kiss him. It was a simple, sweet gesture, and one that made the part of the owl Prince’s weary soul fall as though perhaps…somehow…he would find the way to live through his farce of a marriage and not be destroyed by it. “Care for another round?”

“No…thank you. If it’s alright, will…could you just hold me…for a little while?”

“Sure thing, birdie babe.”

The owl Prince smiled contentedly at his partner before turning his head to the side and enjoying the hypnotic pulsing that he heard of the Sin of Lust’s heartbeat. The mixed scents of their enjoyment this evening were also very soothing, and soon the avian man was lulled into a dreamlike state. He knew at least here he could find the passion that he would be denied whilst awake.

And no one could control him here.

Stolas didn’t know how much time had passed, but he began to stir after a while and peeked open just his top set of eyes to see what was going on. Asmodeus had risen from where he had been cuddling his partner, replacing what the owl Prince had been lying on with a large pillow, and was sitting at the end of the bed getting dressed once more. He was hoping to sneak out without the awkwardness of post-coital talk. Stolas would not interrupt him, but still he watched as the man who had shown him things about himself finished hooking the last button to his coat and then rose. The resting avian quickly shut his eyes in case the King of Lust would turn around and look at him once more before leaving. He heard the sound of clicking heels, but instead of heading to the door, they moved to the other side of the room.

Daringly, Stolas took another peek and saw the ruler holding up the red robe he had been wearing earlier. The man looked it over, probably ensuring that it was still fit to use, but then closed his eyes, and it began to glow with the soft blue aura that was associated with the Sin’s magic. Perhaps the King was blessing it with some kind of charm? Asmodeus, one of his magic faded, started to turn towards the bed. The owl Prince managed to close his eyes only an instant before the monarch could see he was being watched. Again, the sound of those clicking heels betrayed his approach to the bed where he laid something down and then moved to the side to bend down and lay a kiss on the side of the “sleeping” avian’s face.

“To help you feel freer to be who you are, birdie babe. May it bring you luck too,” the soft, velvety voice whispered to him, and then, with a surge of energy, the Sin of Lust was gone, having most likely portaled himself to wherever he was headed. Once Stolas was sure he was alone in the room, he opened all his eyes and spotted the robe that was lying there at the end of the bed waiting for him. He had been given a mighty gift, and so he sat up long enough to take it in hand to put it back on. It had a soft, permeating smell of Asmodeus on it, and the still dreamy Prince brought it up to his nostrils and took in a deep inhale before wrapping it around himself and lying back down to finish his rest. He would keep this sacred item with him always, wearing it whenever he could, like armor through his arranged marriage. Hopefully, the charm the kind King had placed upon it would help him to find the confidence he needed to maybe one day be bold enough to be his true self, finally.

Perhaps to even find someone whom he could give himself entirely to and who would want him in return.