My Lord's Judgment (7 page)

“Okay. Drive us back to your apartment. If I
could do it I would, but…”

Right. Sammy was an angel, and didn’t know
how to drive. Annnnnd his ex-boyfriend was a demon, his father was
coming for him, people with wings were following them….
ashes,
ashes. They all fall down. Wee!

“Brandon?” Sam’s voice was soft and his touch
gentle on Bran’s face, petting him. “Let's get you home, okay? It’s
going to be alright. I have you.”

Home. Drive home. He could do that. Yeah.

He didn’t remember the drive at all. He
didn’t know which route he’d taken, if he’d stopped at all the
right places, followed the speed limit, or used his blinker. He
might as well have been drunk off his ass, because he was just not
there. It was like trying to remember a dream the next day, but
only getting fuzzy bits and pieces. Before he knew it, he was at
his front door trying to put the key in the lock, but the damn
thing kept jumping away from him every time he got close.
Stupid
moving doorknob.

Samael pried the keys from his fingers and
ushered him into the apartment, steering him by his elbow to the
bedroom. He was shaking again, so hard that his teeth rattled
together and he bit his tongue.

Sam calmly started to undress him, peeling
away his clothing one article at a time. When he got to his shoes,
the man maneuvered him gently until he was sitting on the bed,
before kneeling down and taking them off. He was free balling, so
after his pants were removed, he was naked and cold. Very, very
cold.

Samael laid him down on the bed and covered
him with the blanket up to his chin, before making short work of
his own clothing and climbing in bed beside him. He pulled Bran
almost on top of him, forcing his body into compliance. As Bran lay
there, with his head cradled on Sam’s chest, listening to his
breathing, his angel rubbed his back in slow, gentle circles,
murmuring, “I’ve got you,” and “it’s okay,” over and over in his
ear.

He didn’t know how long they lay together
that way on the bed, but eventually he started coming back to
himself again. The sky had darkened and the room was bathed in
purple by the time Bran had stopped shivering. He realized at some
point that he had started to cry. Runaway tears were sliding down
his cheeks without his permission, bathing his face and forming a
puddle on the chest he was resting on - like a faucet that wouldn’t
stop dripping. He gathered his strength and pulled the blanked up
to wipe is face.

He looked up at Samael, who was staring down
at him in concern. “Are you alright, my Little Raven?”

Speaking was hard, but when he finally found
his words all he could get out was, “I…can’t…I can’t,” and it was
as if a damn crashed open. He started blubbering and gasping,
sobbing like never before. He didn’t know why he was crying, except
that he was so overwhelmed with everything, that his body didn’t
know how to contain it. It was being expelled in a storm of emotion
that he couldn’t control. It didn’t last long, and as he hiccupped
and sighed out the last of his tears, he felt lighter for having
let it out. He could think again.

His world had completely flipped on its axis
but Sammy had caught him. He'd kept his promise to not let him
fall. He’d held him and taken care of him. Nothing was what it
seemed, and nothing would ever be the same again, but he wasn’t
alone. He needed to be reminded of that. He needed life
affirmation. He needed… just needed…

Bran lifted himself up a little, crawling
higher to reach Sam’s face. His angel was studying him, eyebrows
drawn together. Bran leaned over him, whispered “Samael” against
his lips before capturing the man’s mouth with his own.

The kiss was not gentle or sweet. It was
wild, and rough and perfect, and Sam gave as good as he got. They
grabbed at each other - frantic hands searching, squeezing, pulling
each other closer - attempting to climb into one another’s bodies.
It wasn’t enough.

Bran had been flipped onto his back once more
in the frenzy, groaning as Sam’s weight landed atop him.
Yes
. “Please. I need you Sammy.”

Sam pulled back and looked at him in
confusion, and Brandon didn’t wait for permission before reaching
between them and fisting the man’s enticing erection. Those dark
blue eyes closed and he moaned deep in his throat, thrusting a few
times. Bran let go and pushed him onto his back, grabbing the lube
and crawling between his legs.

He slicked up one hand and brought it around
behind him to his hole, relishing the burn as he unceremoniously
thrust two fingers inside. Using his other hand, he balanced
himself enough to lean down and drag his tongue up the shaft of his
lover, watching as his balls drew up and his cock waved hello.

“Oh!” Samael, who had been watching him,
reclining on his elbows, fell back on the bed and closed his
eyes.

Sam was so hard, his foreskin had withdrawn
and the head was almost purple with blood. Bran licked at a bead of
pre-cum on the tip, dipping his tongue in the slit a few times
searching for more, before using his lips to nibble at whatever
skin was left around the glans. He relished the sounds that Sammy
made. The man’s hands were scrambling for something to hold on to
and his panting had turned into a breathy “Ha, ha, ha,” sound that
Bran loved.

The whole time, Bran was fucking himself with
his fingers, preparing himself for what was to come. He added a
third finger before using the flat of his tongue on his lover’s
frenulum, laving the bundle of nerves on the underside of the
head.

Then he stopped, waiting until his Sammy
looked at him. Reminding him where he was and who he was with;
verifying it for himself in the process. He needed their connection
right now, more than he did the act. When Sam looked up, Brandon
sucked the whole cock into his mouth. The half groan, half shout
made him pull back though. He didn’t want it to be over before
they’d even started.

Bran was about ready anyway, and in the end,
impatience won.

Removing his fingers, he turned around to dig
through the bedside table, coming back with a condom. He opened the
packaging with his teeth, pulled it out, and rolled it down his
lover’s long, thick shaft, before coated it with more lube. When he
was satisfied with his work, he crawled up his man’s body like a
cat stalking its prey, taking his mouth in a feral kiss while
straddling his hips.

He leaned back, high on his knees, and
reached under himself to place the cock where he wanted it. As it
touched his hole, he looked directly at Samael. The man’s pupils
were so dilated that they almost took over his irises completely,
making them look black. He saw confusion and desire in their
depths. Continuing to hold Sam’s gaze, he sat back, relaxing to
take him inside. As the first ring of muscles released, Sammy
grunted and jerked his hips, pushing a few more inches in and
causing Bran to moan.

“Brandon?” Samael panted out, eyes wide.

“Feels so good... Oh god… You feel
so
good.”

Bran rocked himself onto the shaft, slowly
taking it in, until his balls rested on his lover’s pelvis Samael
was magnificent, head thrown back, muscles bulging. He didn’t think
he’d ever seen a more awesome sight.

Sam was not small by any means, so he stilled
for a moment, giving his body a chance adjust. Once he felt ready,
he held his palms out to the man. “Give me your hands.”

Samael complied, and Brandon threaded their
fingers together, using it as leverage to help him move. And move
he did. He rode Sammy hard, lifting and falling, taking him as deep
as he could. After a few minutes, Sam began to thrust in tandem
with his movements, their breaths and moans filling the room. Bran
had never been a quiet lover, and he was whimpering and groaning
with each delicious sweep of that fat cock across his prostate. His
own penis was weeping, and he could barely catch his breath.

“Oh, God... Sammy. Yes!” It felt wonderful.
It felt right. His blood was coursing through his veins, adrenaline
and endorphins were flooding his system, making him feel more alive
than ever. The connection with Sam was right there too, linking
them together the whole time. This was what he’d needed.

Unexpectedly, Samael sat up, wrapping his
arms around him and pulling him close. Their gazes locked, and Bran
still saw the desire there, but it was joined with affection and a
deep yearning that pulled at his soul. Sam threaded a hand into his
hair and then they were kissing, locked in a passionate embrace
while their bodies undulated together searching for release. The
new position put even more friction on Brandon’s prostate, and
trapped his erection against Sam’s washboard stomach, where it
rubbed with every motion.

Their mouths broke apart in an attempt to
find air, but they continued to hold each other close as they
rocked faster, their orgasms building toward that magnificent
peak.

Sam tensed in his arms. “Bran… I'm…I
…Oh…”

Bran understood, because he was right there
with him.

Then they were both flying over the cliff
together, clinging to each other. Not alone.

Never alone.

Samael lay
in bed, staring up at the nothingness above him. Darkness had
fallen quite some time ago, and the room was encased in shadow.
Brandon was sleeping peacefully, curled atop him; the midnight hair
at his crown tickling Sam’s chin, while he absently stroke the
man’s back.

He was too unsettled to find his own rest.
His Little Raven’s distress had troubled him so. He didn’t blame
Bran for reacting the way he did. He knew better than most how it
was when everything you knew was ripped away from you, to be
replaced with the unfathomable. Only, when Brandon had let go, his
tears had broken Samael’s heart. He had required the release. Sam
hoped that when he awoke, he would have renewed strength.

Unfortunately, Sam did not believe one thing
Asmodeus said. He was a demon after all, and they were not renowned
for their good word. A confrontation was approaching, and not the
kind that he appreciated. There were too many unknowns in the
situation. There was no way to prepare. Who was Bran’s father that
he was in league with demons? Why was the man coming for his long
lost son now, and why in such a perplexing way? What did
he
have to do with the whole situation? Was it only because he was in
the wrong place at the wrong time, or was there more to it than
that? He had no doubt at this point that the twenty thousand
dollars was some kind of set up, but he did not know why.

He sighed and rubbed his free hand down his
face. There was just no way of knowing, until the trouble met them
head on. For the first time, though, he was truly glad he was here;
no matter the situation that brought him. He would stand by
Brandon, come what may, and they would fight together.

Samael and Brandon together was a good
thing.

Sam thought back over the last few hours and
the astonishing things that had taken place. With how horribly
upset Bran was, he'd not expected affection of any kind, never mind
what had actually happened. He had wanted only to hold him and give
him comfort. When Brandon had kissed him so fiercely, the
protectiveness in him mixed with the adrenaline and endorphins
still flooding his body, from the confrontation with the demon, to
create an explosion of which Sam had never known.

And then… he was back in Heaven once
more.

He hadn’t known what to expect, but what he'd
felt was beyond his wildest imaginings. Each touch, every kiss, all
of it - he could not find the words to describe such a thing except
beautiful, marvelous, satisfying, amazing. He was in awe.

Brandon stirred and pressed a chaste kiss to
the center of his chest before looking up at him.

“Hello, Little Raven. How are you
feeling?”

“Better. I’m still really confused and
scared.” He snuggled deeper. “I don’t feel like I’ve lost my mind
anymore and when I am right here, I feel safe.”

“You should. Nothing could get to you without
going through me first.” He smiled down at Bran, and received a
small one in return but it quickly died.

Brandon’s eyes had filled with fear again,
but this time Sam knew it was not of him. Bran whispered. “Sammy?
You said you would help, right? Protect me?”

“Yes, I did.”

Bran cleared his throat and looked away.
“Umm…you’re…uh...still gonna, right?”

Samael’s chest ached and his throat closed
up. “I give you my word, I will not leave you. No matter what
comes, we shall face it together.”

The smile Brandon gave him could have lit up
the entire bedroom. This night was just full of gifts. Sam’s heart
felt as if it would burst.

They lay there for a while longer, stroking
each other’s skin. There was nothing sexual about it, but it was
wonderful in its own right. Samael’s stomach broke the silence,
growling out its discomfort at being empty for so long.

Bran laughed. “I guess I should feed you. We
need to keep up your strength.”

“It has been quite a while since our lunch,
but I'm enjoying this so much that I don’t want to move.”

Brandon gave him a grin and then shifted,
pulling on Sam’s hand. “Come on. We can come back once we’ve had
some dinner.”

They both pulled on some loose shorts – Sam’s
actually fit this time – and moved to the kitchen.

Brandon pulled some sandwich fixings out of
the fridge. There was no way he was in the mood to cook, and it was
too late for any of the take-out places to be open. He did feel
better. He could have sworn for a minute there that he was going to
wake up in an insane asylum. He knew he probably looked like
elephant dung; his guyliner running, forming raccoon eyes – which
were probably red and puffy, face all blotchy. Not that he gave a
flying fuck, and Sam didn’t seem to either. It was probably a
testament to how worried Sam was that he wasn’t ragging on him;
giving him some shit in return for their shopping trip.