by Harukami
Arms tangled, legs unsteadily moving to wind, steady rhythm pushing between sweaty bodies, words were lost in the gasps and groans and trailing, grasping hands.
"Brother . . ." Monologue moaned, running trembling hands over Soliloquy's soft- skinned hips. "Oh . . ."
Soliloquy rolled them so he was on top, straddling his brother's hips, swaying with the rhythm, hands braced on Monologue's chest. The slenderer twin's hair showered down around them, black strands mingling with identical black strands.
"Ung . . ." Monologue let his hands run through Soliloquy's hair, gaze focused on his brother's intense expression; brows creased, eyes half-lidded, lips half-opened - now closed, bottom lip gripped between teeth as another shudder ran through them.
His heart and his body ached with their love.
And God took before his angels his new creation - man. "Praise him," God commanded. "Love him."
And all the angels praised man as they'd never praised and loved man as they'd never loved - except one: Archangel Lucifer Light-Bringer.
"I cannot, God," Lucifer said, sadly but firmly. "I have obeyed Your words and loved You above all others, and now I can love no other."
Monologue let his hands trail down Soliloquy's chest, across the scars, to run his hands over his brother's erection. Soliloquy cried out, back arching, driving himself deeper onto Monologue. A pale line of throat showed, the sharp angle of chin, perfect beauty.
God was saddened by the words his favourite had spoken, and thought upon them. "Then I must send you into exile."
"Most Holy!" the Light-Bringer cried, devastated.
The Lord would not have it. "You must go to Earth and be a brother to man. Knowing man, you will learn to love him as you should."
Lucifer spun on his heel. "I would rather live in a hell of my own creation than exchange my love for you for another!" he cried and left, God's sad eyes on his back.
"Ah!" Their pace was moving faster now, from gentle to frantic. Monologue's hands clenched on his brother's sides as he pushed up into him, hips bucking. Soliloquy's body was a tight bow of pleasure.
So close. So -
Black wings crashed outwards.
There.
And the fall burned.
They lay together, sweaty, tangled still. Their breath still came harshly, heartbeats thrumming through each other.
"I love you," Monologue whispered, hands trailing again on the scars.
Soliloquy moved impossibly closer. "I love you," he echoed, cheeks flushed. "Oh, God, I love you."