Beautiful Little Mate

Seophokram woke from his hundred-year slumber to the feeling of the only creature whose presence he desired: Matanbuchus. The devil was gently making their way to nestle among the serpent’s many coils, shapeshifting as they went to prevent waking him. They did not know Seophokram’s realm woke him the moment a movement was made past his doorway and so tried in vain to be absolutely silent as they moved to lay with him. Matanbuchus’s warmth was welcome after his rest, as were their pleasant sounds of surprise when the serpent moved them closer to lay beneath his jaw, tucked away safely beneath the threat of fangs. They were as small as the day they’d become his mate, able to fully hide beneath his head, protected. It’d be a lie to say they weren’t useful there, with how many times the devil had protected his throat from the same spot in those early days, warring with Verniu and Mortogoth.

“Stay put,” Seophokram commanded, though he knew Matanbuchus had no intention of moving. It would remind the devil of his pleasure at their easy obedience, having always wanted to do the same things the serpent wished of them. They nodded, letting themselves be wrapped into the serpent’s form, tucked under his chin and hidden by his coils. The devil’s warmth filled the space between the rings of sinuous muscle, eventually acting as a sunning rock for Seophokram in his lightless realm.

“Good little mate,” the serpent praised as the heat crept through his scales and bones, easing the tension from having slept as tightly wound as he did. He could feel the purr emanate from Matanbuchus at the words and knew still that the love between them was an easy one. The fall had changed so very little; each of them had only brought to extremes their earlier promises. Seophokram dwelled on the thought a moment, thinking of how Matanbuchus had brought their Nephilim brood into these drowned halls – ever his mate even when the children weren’t of his sire. He’d desired their protection too, though it was protecting the devil that fueled the rage he felt as he slew the angel Eraille. Their family safe and cared for, he’d taken to resting off his injuries. The devil would never know that each time they crossed his door to cast their own healing and relief upon him that he’d woken and unwound a bit, hoping to invite them to lay with him a while. Matanbuchus always took the chance, reassuring the serpent that they were still his even as he drifted back to sleep.

“Love you; always yours,” they murmured as they had each time before, though, this time it was as they were moved again to be more tightly wound in the serpent’s form that now uncoiled and slipped in and around itself to form a comfortable place for the devil to lay. Seophokram laid his head beside them, tucking the devil between it and the coils around them, safe and secure. One of their furred wings drifted to lay at the curve of his jaw where the faintest gap in his scales was, laying against it as a shield. They weighed nothing, and yet, it was a weight he would always desire upon him.

“Always mine, no matter who else you have,” the serpent reassured them, not having to open his eyes to know the giddy smile that would form over his mate’s face. They’d smile through their sleep as they rested together, basking in the glow of one another’s company. Matanbuchus would surely discuss what became of them, of their desire for family, later. Right now, the universe could wait a few more decades if he wanted it to; nothing mattered except the devil’s soft form laying on his and the way their breathing slowed to sync with his.