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Of The Flesh [2]

Fandom: Satan and Me Ship: Hellicho Word count: 4000 Rating/Content: NSFW tw: non-con, blood, general manipulative behavior. Summary: Jericho always thought it was a true Satan he was waiting on, but it’s Hell itself that eventually bent his knees. A/N: I probably should have done this sooner I realize but I added some trigger warnings to the content rating now that it’s getting into the nsfw content, and I will be tagging them as well. Honestly, if you have a problem with any of the mentioned please don’t read this fic. Don’t say I didn’t warn you. I said it was trash.

Parts 0 - 1 Hellicho playlist here

“Are you feeling alright, Jericho?”

Jericho offered a smile from beside Natalie, stopping briefly from pouring drinks to answer. “Of course. Why do you ask?”

Natalie lowered her eyes briefly, a timid expression taking over her. “I don’t want to seem rude. It’s just, you’ve looked tired this week.” She pointed to her undereye to subtly comment on the darker-than-usual color under his.

That was because the memory of Hell’s voices coming out of her mouth was haunting him all hours of the day and he was struggling to settle his constantly pounding heartbeat for long enough to get anything more than sporadic bouts of sleep during the night. When he did sleep his dreams were full of fire and blood and screaming and he woke in a panicked sweat to the sound of their laughter in his ear, like the voices had invaded his mind and made a home there without him realizing.

“It’s being observant, not rude. I uh-. I haven’t been getting much sleep. Schools just been really overwhelming lately.” Jericho brushed off her concern with a trained grin.

Her timidness shifted to concern. “I’m sorry. I had no idea you had such a workload at your school. Are you sure you should be here? You don’t have homework or something?”

He bumped his arm against hers teasingly. “Like I’d miss out on a chance to spend an evening with the prettiest girl I know.”

“Hardly…” she protested, but smiled regardless. Jericho watched the blush bloom across her face. “That’s nice to hear though. I was beginning to think that you were avoiding me.”

Rightfully so. Because he was. Just seeing Natalie that week had him so scared and excited he could hardly sit still. It was a struggle acting normal around her. He was honestly amazed she hadn’t said something sooner, but that possibly had something to do with the fact that he had been straight up avoiding her on as many occasions as he could get away with. The only reason he was there for her to be questioning him was because he had ran out of both excuses and fear. His desire to hear those voices come from her mouth again, to promise himself to them as had been requested, was utterly consuming once he got a handle on his terror.

Unfortunately, it looked like it wouldn’t be that particular night that he’d get to speak to Hell again, since Natalie had invited Stan to tag along once more. Thanks to his “select interests” as Natalie so politely put it, another movie night was all she could get Satan to agree to, so they were in the kitchen preparing snacks together for a cozy stay-in film viewing while the third wheel waited in the living room.

If Jericho was at all actually interested in Natalie, he’d probably be annoyed at this point that Satan was somehow always part of their plans. Sure, Jericho had encourage meeting Stan in the first place but the fact that she so willingly inserted him into their plans since then would make any guy feel insecure.

This thought turned a kog in Jericho’s head.

“I’m sorry I’ve been so busy, I didn’t mean to make it seem like I was blowing you off or anything, Natalie. On the contrary, I was really happy to finally get some time with you when you invited me over again.” Jericho paused strategically, giving a sheepish grin. “Although I admit… I was sorta hoping it was going to be just us tonight.”

Natalie’s blush deepened, and Jericho bit back a successful smile. “Well, actually… that was kinda my plan too but Stan said he wanted to come.”

Jericho tried not to show his suspicion. “Did he? I guess I was right about us getting to know each other better, huh?”

She bit her lip, as if considering just letting Jericho go with that answer but being unable to hold back the truth. “Well… not exactly.” She stopped for a moment to cringe, obviously not fond of what she was deciding to say. “I didn’t really want to say anything once you told me about how school has been kind of stressful. But, he said he wanted to come because he doesn’t trust you.”

Jericho’s offense was probably overacted. “Doesn’t trust me? Why?”

“He said it was because of something you said last time. At the theater. Something about him being jealous. He said he felt like you were trying to get him away from me.”

He had to grind his teeth together to keep his annoyance under wraps. It was his own fault, to be perfectly honest. He shouldn’t have been so eager to piss Satan off but he just couldn’t help himself. At the time, the thrill was too addictive. If only he’d known the type of fear and adrenaline he’d experienced only a little while later, he might have had the patience to wait.

Satan underestimated how sneaky Jericho could be though. If he was going to cling to Natalie to try and protect her, then Jericho would just have to convince Natalie to shake him off.

Jericho lowered his eyes, sighing. “I’m sorry. He’s right, I did say that. I never meant for it to sound so mean though. I only said it because I was upset. He had threatened me and-.”

“He threatened you?” The color on Natalie’s cheeks went from rose petal pink to flaming red.

Jericho held the frown on his brow. “Oh dear. It’s not what you think, Natalie. He was just looking out for you…” While his words read objection, he didn’t try very hard to stop her when she spun around quick to return to the living room. Instead, he followed to the threshold of the kitchen, then stood there and listened to the argument he triggered.

After a few heated words exchanged between the two of them, Satan was storming out of the living room to go for the door. Jericho was leaning against the wall waiting, a smirk playing on the corner of his mouth. He caught Satan’s gaze briefly, the air fleeing from his lungs at the flames in the Devil’s eyes. They both know that Jericho had won this exchange though, and Satan was out the door with a slam that shook the house.

Jericho had to hang back a moment and brace himself on the wall, his heart beating so fast that he felt light-headed from the blood rushing to his brain. He bit at his knuckles to suppress the grin he fought. Going toe to toe with Satan was like playing chicken with a train. No, a fucking fighter jet. It was still addictive as hell, but the high dulled quickly, not nearly as effective as he remembered.

He was craving something else now. Something much more dangerous.

When Jericho entered the living room, Natalie had her head in her hands, sitting on the couch. When he called for her, she sat up and quickly swiped at he eyes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t expect that to get so out of hand.”

Jericho fought through his indifference to sit down next to her and reach for her hand. “Don’t apologize. You two are friends, of course someone new coming into the situation would cause some strain. I should be the one apologizing.”

Natalie waved his words away, new tears finding her eyes as she shifted close. “I just don’t understand… after everything that’s happened… why he would just leave like that…”

She wasn’t going to ask for one, but everything about her body language screamed that she wanted a hug. Jericho wrapped around her and pulled her into his collar before allowing the grimace onto his face, letting her cry it out into his shoulder despite immediately wanting to shove her away again.

He hadn’t thought this plan through very well. Comforting a wet, blubbering idiot was not how he had wanted to spend the night. While rubbing a flat palm over her shoulder and rolling his eyes, Jericho realized that he had surprisingly less patience with Natalie’s crying than he did with her talking. He never thought he’d actually be wishing for her to talk, but he’d take her constant narration over the fat, wet tears she was spilling onto his shoulder.

She managed to get a handle on her emotions after a little while of Jericho’s insincere comfort, sniffing up her tears and offering another apology. “I feel so stupid. This is not how you should have to spend your night.”

Jericho forced a smile past the sarcasm that instantly came to mind. He pulled her head back to his shoulder and put his lips to her hair instead. “Don’t be silly. I’ll do whatever it takes to make you feel better.” He nearly gagged on those words and their cheesiness. Natalie didn’t seem to notice though. She hummed into the fabric of his shirt, shifting to sit even close, curling her knees up under her.

With dry eyes and nothing to say, she wasn’t nearly so offensive to be cuddled up with. Pressed so close into him, he could feel her racing heart and through her chest, slowing down a little as she settled against him. With the arm he had around her, he trailed his fingers along the skin of her shoulder and neck, and it triggered goosebumps on her warm skin. Jericho bit at his lip, edging his curiosity and keeping his other hand to himself.

She adjusting to speak to his collar. “I don’t understand how Stan can dislike you so much?” She stopped, lifting her head a little, her nose brushing his neck, a breath pulling his own goosebumps to his skin. “You’re so sweet to me… Je-ri- cho.”

Finding himself a little stunned by her forwardness, Jericho just managed to use that free hand to catch one of hers around the wrist when she slid her fingers up around his neck. “Uh… Natalie?” With an awkward laugh he moved to pull away from her a little just as her lips grazed his ear.

She stopped him with a murmur. “Guess again, clever boy.”

Something about how they always slipped out of Natalie when Jericho least expected it was deliciously terrifying. The fear always felt fresh and new, unique, like it was planned meticulously, cementing his bones and collapsing his lungs. He wish he knew how to say how much he appreciated the art of their terror.

This was nothing like the fear he knew. This wasn’t dangling his toes off the edges of buildings or playing on train tracks. This wasn’t watching Titus murder, or tugging at Satan’s last nerve. The fear he felt hearing that blend of voices, sultry and satin, murder and morbid, was like a hand around his throat, bringing him right to the edge of death and keeping him there. Right there, between that line of life and afterlife, between consuming and consumed. There were no words for that kind of fear. There were no words for that kind of excitement.

Not-Natalie’s lips had moved to ghost along his jaw, but when they didn’t get a response, a pout sprung up on their face. “Have we scared you stiff again? That won’t do. You really need to learn how to loosen up around us.” The hand that Jericho had attempted to stop before snaked up around his neck, fingers kneading through his hair, then pulling his head back to lean against the back of the couch and direct his gaze to her.

Catching her bi-colored eyes, Jericho barely held down a whimper.

The voices crooned as they sat up a little, contorting Natalie’s face into a concerned frown. “Look at you. It looks like you haven’t slept a wink. Have you been thinking about us, sweet boy? Have we been keeping you up, alone at night…” When Jericho had shut his eyes to fend off the tortuous nature of their suggestion, Not-Natalie had smirked, returning back to his ear to add a whisper. “Why don’t we give you a better reason to be up all night?”

She shifted in her spot, unfolding a leg and slinking across him to place herself astride his lap. Jericho tried to shift away, pushing himself further into the couch, but it was no use. He was trapped there, pinned between her limbs, at a lost for air and words and reality. The only thing keeping him even slightly afloat was the bite of his nails digging into his palms, as he fisted his fingers up tight while trying to control his shaking.

Not-Natalie’s free hand joined the one already in his hair, combing, tugging, then sliding down the back of his neck, triggering goosebumps chasing up his arms and down his back in a violent, almost pleasurable chill to go with the cold sweat he was experiencing. She slid her fingers around his neck, guided his lips up to meet hers, only to tease the intended kiss over his mouth in the most sinfully delicious form of agony Jericho had ever experienced.

He had kissed his skin with lots of things before. Blades. Brands. Bruises. He never thought the absence of a kiss would be just as painfully effective at exciting him. A breath teased across his teeth, and his previously fisted, trembling fingers were gripped around her hips to ground himself. She shifted in his lap closer, squeezed her thighs tighter, rolled her hips against his jeans to encourage that excitement even further, and a moan that shouldn’t have been sitting in his throat escaped out into her mouth.

The voices giggled, tiny and feminine. “Oh dear. Seems like we really did scare you stiff.”

Through his panting Jericho somehow managed strangled words. “Why… are you doing this?”

“This?” Not-Natalie shifted on his lap again, her lips spreading when he shut his eyes tightly. “Because it’s fun.”

The voices lingered for a moment, letting it sound like that was their only reason as they giggled at Jericho’s exasperation. Catching his gaze with those eyes that weren’t quite Natalie’s, they offered a real answer as a whisper to his lips. “Because you have potential. You have so much to offer. No one else sees it, but we do. And we want it. We want you, Je-ri-cho.”

The way they said his name. Like a sigh. Like a scream. Like a calling. Like they were begging for him. Growling. Moaning. Ecstasy. He didn’t stand a chance. He was already gone. Already broken. “I want-. I've never wanted something more in my life. You’re everything I’ve been searching for. I was meant for this. I know it. I want to serve you.”

“Do you?” There was excitement in their voices, an energy that seemed to make the air around their body vibrate with the thrill. “Will you swear it? Will you promise yourself to us? Every piece of you. Every bit of flesh and bone. Every drop of blood. Your whole mind and soul. Is it all ours? Are you ours, Jericho?”

His name again, said in that indescribable way, sucking the air from his lungs as he sighed in torture bliss. Her lips, always right there, so close, but never touching, dragging him down to the inferno he longed to waste away in. “Yes. P-Please. Let me give myself to you. Everything. Use me up… consume me.”

Not-Natalie smiled. Wide, twisted, and satisfied. “Sweet talker,” the voices murmured, and brought their lips to Jericho’s, delivering the kiss they had been teasing for so long.

It was slow and deep at first, turning his mind to mush and his previously solid limbs to puddy. The fear was still there, but it was viscous venom now, coursing thick and slow through his veins with every hard pound of his heart, making his eyelids heavy and filling his skull with the echo of their voices even though they had gone silent for the moment.

Jericho expected her to still taste like he imagined Natalie would taste. Strawberry lip balm and and sweetness on her teeth from the sugar of her personality. But when she eased his lips apart to tease her tongue across his, she might as well have been pouring flames down his throat because that’s what she tasted of. Ashe and heat and barren death. It made him cotton-mouthed and thirsty for more. This wasn’t Natalie at all anymore. It was the fires of chaos kissing him, and Jericho couldn’t think of a better way to die.

The heat picked up, catching tinder on his flammable desires, the exchange of fire lasting longer, pushing deeper, until his lungs were smoldering, warming those twisting, hungry snakes in his stomach again. She kissed him until Jericho could barely breath. Eating up all the oxygen with the licking flames that were her lips. Suffocating him. He pushed for more, loving the head-spin. The crash and burn.

Like a greedy child, all in without a second thought, Jericho was already prepared to be smothered by her. By them. They had bigger plans though. He had made a promise, after all. To serve. To give everything to the chaos. And what better way to keep a servant of Hell, than hungry and aching for more?

She ended the deep, molten, consuming kisses with a swift snuff-out. Grazing her teeth across his lower lip at first, the teasing pressure instantly became a bite that broke through the tender skin with ease. As Jericho withdrew with a swear and the dousing iron wetness of blood on his tongue, Not-Natalie gave a satisfied smile.

She licked the red stain off her lips and teeth, another small, girlish giggle crossing her throat before she leaned over over to tease a hum over his ear. “No need to be in such a rush. We have eternity together now, Je-ri-cho.”

Eternity.

Waiting to go home had felt like an eternity. After the voices gave Natalie her consciousness back, Jericho had to convince the red-head she had fallen asleep on him, while gripping a couch pillow to his lap and trying to conceal his quickly plumping lower lip.

He sat through a movie with her, but was barely there mentally, and left as soon as she’d allow, citing his massive amounts of homework excuse. She followed him to the door when he left, all smiles and blushing cheeks, but he was still hiding a split lip and wouldn’t be able to let himself get near her even if he wanted to. Instead, he stuck his shaking hands in his pockets, nodded, and fled, hoping he wouldn’t have to lie himself out of her offense later.

Home, finally alone behind a closed door in the blue and black of his dark room, Jericho let out a weighed, shaking sigh. He was drenched in a cold sweat that had him shivering, thoughts of sin and sulfur burning him up despite the permanent chill up his spine. Leaning his back against the wall, he licked his tongue across the healing wound, his next exhale a breathy laugh. Despite his pounding heart beating so loudly it felt like it would give up on him, despite his ragged, broken lungs, Jericho felt at peace for the first time in his whole life.

All this time, feeling out of place. A jagged, messy puzzle piece that never fit in the hole he was being forced into. A misprint. A mistake. No… not a mistake. Misplaced. A piece meant for a much bigger picture. Nobody ever saw it, but Jericho knew. He knew he was better than the humanity that confined him. He wasn’t just a kid with a death wish and a fetish for everything sin and sinister. He had ambitions, of fire and chaos.

So long he had spent searching for that place he belonged. Trying to tuck himself into cracks and corners that were too tight and uncomfortable. Under Titus’s command, snaked into Natalie’s favor, stuck in Satan’s craw. Never quite fitting right though. Always itching for something more.

How fortunate he was, that his destiny had found him. To serve darkness itself, a nightmare worthy of lulling him to sleep. He wouldn't let himself down. He wouldn't let them down.

He was so excited to be theirs.

Jericho could hardly contain himself. He smiled again, shutting his heavy, exhausted eyes, letting the memory of their voices bounce around in his skull. Haunting, assaulting, ensuring he’d never forget. We need you. We want you. Words to make even the strongest man bend his knees. Even if he hadn't wanted to, how was he suppose to refuse them? How could anyone?

A twist of the lock on his door and Jericho’s smile faded to strained pleasure, finally able to tend to the aching pleasure in his jeans that Not-Natalie had left him high and dry with. One hand, flat on the door and the other wrapped around his dick, already hard and throbbing as he recollected the ashe of their taste on his tongue.

His heart was somehow both in his skull and in his pelvis, it’s loud, deafening pound pulsing blood to his ears and through his shaft with each stroke. Their voices still somehow louder in his head than the hurricane of his shallow, hitched breaths and heavy, thumping back beat of his heart. Like they were still there, tagging along home with him as smoke in his lungs. Molten snakes wrapped around his neck, his stomach, twisting and tangling up in his abdomen, hissing whispers in his ears that made his neck prickle with terror. Are you ours?

“Yes…” A shaking sigh, a plea, to untangle him, to tear him apart, even though he knew their voices were just a figment of his own desires this time. Tightening his fingers, Jericho leaned forward to bite his sweater at the wrist to smother a groan that ripped through his throat.

Curses riddled off the tip of his tongue in barely breaths, he pressed his forehead firm against the wood of his door as he ran the fingers of his free hand through his hair. Damp with lingering sweat, accumulating at his hairline from the heat building under his collar, in his pelvis, burning in the palm of his moving hand.

He shifted the fingers in his hair from an absent-minded gesture to purposeful. Rough, tugging, gripping, pulling, like they did with Natalie’s hands. Why don’t we give you a better reason to be up all night. Sweet boy. A whimper escaped between his heavy exhales. The taste of embers on his teeth and licking snake tongues in his ears. The liquid fire serpents burning him up from the inside, knotting and squirming, bringing him right to the edge of unbearable.

Jericho pulled his lower lip into his mouth, biting down. The tender skin protested with sharp pain but his dick pulsed with pleasure, so he bit harder. And harder. Je-ri-cho. His name punctured to the beat of the pounding in his skull and the rhythm of his pumps, and as the spilt in his lip tore open, the iron of his blood hitting his tongue again, Jericho came into his hand with a choking, stuttered moan that he barely managed to stifle in the bend of his elbow.

Catching his breath, vision spotted and limbs weak and shaking, Jericho swore he could hear their giggling in the dark corners of his fading consciousness.

Eternity.

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