Fandom: Good Omens (TV)
Title: Heavenly Retribution
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Gabriel/Crowley
Word Count: 1,244
Summary: "We in Heaven have analyzed all the data from six thousand years of human experiences, and we’ve determined that rape is the best torture."
Warning: rape
Note: Written for
Smut 4 Smut.
The Archangel Gabriel is the best. At what? At everything, of course.
He has the optimal male body of the human form. His jaw is perfectly strong and square. His eyes are bright violet and more beautiful than jewels. And his penis is exactly nine and a quarter inches long, and as thick around as the average human woman's forearm.
The demon Crowley appears worried when he sees it, his irritating bravado slipping for a moment. Then he recovers, and he drawls, "A little too much, don't you think, mate? One might think you're trying too hard, Gabriel old boy."
Gabriel feels the impulse to slap his face and watch his lips split and bleed red. He almost gives in to this impulse. He might have, if it'd been just him and Crowley. But Beelzebub is here, and he refuses to lose his cool in front of his opposite number. It would make him look bad, almost like he had a temper, and angels, especially archangels, do not have tempers.
He says, calmly, coolly, "We in Heaven have analyzed all the data from six thousand years of human experiences, and we’ve determined that rape is the best torture."
Crowley is dangling from the ceiling, his wrists shackled together high above his head and his feet just barely touching the floor. His clothes are in tatters from Beelzebub's whip. Gabriel circles him again and again, ripping and tearing until he has stripped him completely bare.
"I bet you've always wanted to do this," Crowley says. "I bet you've often had a wank up there in Heaven, fantasizing about just this sort of thing."
Crowley’s form is greatly inferior to Gabriel’s own form. Crowley’s form is too skinny and awkward-looking. Nothing about it would rouse sexual desire.
Fortunately, righteous fury has Gabriel's penis fully engorged and he's ready to punish this disrespectful demon who dared to thwart the Apocalypse and spoil millennia of preparations. He positions the head of his penis between the cheeks of Crowley's bony buttocks and thrusts, but he can't get it in. He tries again, to no avail.
Gabriel is no degenerate hedonist like that no good excuse for an angel Aziraphale. He hasn't partaken in sex any more than he's partaken in food or drink. But he knows how it works. Or at least, how it's supposed to work. He exhales loudly. Why isn't this working?
"You've got to lick it first, get the muscles to relax," Crowley advises him. "Lick my arse, Gabriel."
Gabriel steps back and punches him solidly in the kidneys. "Shut up!"
He punches him again. "You are so annoying!"
He walks around and punches him in the stomach. "No one likes you!"
Gabriel isn't actually certain about that last part. The holy water bath should have melted the flesh from Crowley's bones, but he'd been unscathed, just as the hellfire had failed to consume Aziraphale. Some might construe that to mean that God favored the two trouble-makers.
But not Gabriel. Gabriel refuses to believe that. Crowley is still a demon. If God liked him, She'd have restored him to Her Grace and he'd be an angel again.
He drives his knee into Crowley's testicles, and Crowley's howl of pain sounds sweeter than celestial music. "Suffer. Just suffer."
Beelzebub speaks up, sounding bored. "We have the most skilled torture specialists in Hell, Gabriel. I can summon a team of them to work on Crowley while we watch."
Gabriel doesn't want to merely watch. "You can do what you like with him when I'm done."
"Very well," she replies. "Then let me offer you some advice when it comes to this sort of thing: use lube. Or at least use spit. It's the only way you're going to get a prick that big into a hole that tight."
Lube,, Gabriel thinks, and he miracles a tube of KY Jelly into his hand. He stares at it for a moment, then he reluctantly looks to Beelzebub. "What do I do with it?"
"Swallow it," Crowley croaks, unable to keep the pain out of his voice.
Gabriel miracles away the chain holding up Crowley, and when Crowley drops to the floor, he kicks him in the face. "Do I need to cut out your tongue?"
Beelzebub answers his question about the lube. "Smear it on your pick and use your finger to smear some in his arse."
Gabriel squeezes the contents of the tube into the palm of his hand. He immediately dislikes the oily feel of it. It feels messy and he hates messes. But he coats his penis with it, and it makes his perfect penis glisten and look even more beautiful. He anoints it with another layer of lube, admiring the sight. The tactile sensation is not bad either.
He squirts lube onto his forefinger and applies it to Crowley's anus. He expects Crowley to make another quip, but the demon is silent for once. Gabriel gets on top of him and tries again to insert his penis into him. He's successful this time.
Crowley lets out a low moan as the head of Gabriel's penis disappears into his anus.
Yes. Yes, this is good. Gabriel thrusts as hard as he can, and while his entire penis doesn't make it inside, a good six inches invade Crowley.
Crowley wails.
Gabriel thrusts his hips again, and the remaining length of his penis enters Crowley. He's fully buried inside Crowley. He can smell blood, and Crowley's aura shows nothing but a state of agony. He would be content to stay like this, but Gabriel is aware that the mechanics of sex dictate that he partially withdraw and then thrust back in again. So he does.
Crowley moans weakly.
Gabriel moves his penis in and out of Crowley until it becomes a natural rhythm of his body and he no longer has to think about it. This is wonderful. He really should have done this a long time ago.
"You're holding up fairly well," he says to Crowley conversationally. "Far better than I expect your buddy Aziraphale will. I expect a lot of blubbering and pleas for mercy from that one."
"No," Crowley shouts. "No! It was me. I did it all. The angel is just a naive fool. I tricked him into helping."
Gabriel pulls his penis all the way out, and watches as Crowley's bloody anus gapes open like a wound. It's a beautiful mess. He plunges back in, and this time he succeeds in getting all nine and a quarter inches in on one stroke.
Crowley groans. Then he says, “I’m the one who thwarted your plans.”
"It's sweet of you to try to take all the blame. Romantic, even."
"I'm a demon," Crowley hisses. "You think I'd sacrifice myself to save an angel? Don't be a bigger idiot than you already are, Gabriel."
Gabriel has to admit to himself that he isn't entirely sure Aziraphale has the temerity to act without guidance or the competence to succeed without someone else pulling the strings. If Aziraphale had willfully acted against the divine plan, then he ought to have Fallen. Yet God hasn't cast him down, so maybe attempting to punish him again might not be wise.
"Well, then you'll have to take his punishment in addition to your own."
"Do your worst, tosser."
“I will,” Gabriel promises, already thinking of all the other awful, terrible things he’ll do to Crowley once he’s done raping him.