Warnings: Just a nice and fluffy PWP for a chilly
afternoon.

Disclaimer: "Brimstone" is owned by someone
with a lot more money than me. The following
is written purely for fun, not for profit.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Things To Do In Denver When You're Dead

by sidewinder
 

Ezekiel Stone pulled back the curtains and
stood by the window, watching the snow fall.

Snow. That was something he hadn't seen in a
long time. The chill of winter was in the air
and he couldn't have been happier; cold
bothered him no more than heat, but after
fifteen years in Hell it was definitely the
more pleasant sensation. He thought about
going outside just to feel the icy flakes hit
his face, melt on his skin and slide down
under the collar of his well-worn coat.

The severe winter storm had impeded his
travel plans, leaving him stranded at this
motel at least until the morning. He'd been
hitchhiking his way from L.A. to Denver, but
the last driver who'd picked him up hadn't
wanted to risk the roads with another foot of
snow still on the way before morning.
Fortunately, Stone's daily budget had been
enough to cover a room for himself for the
night--and had even left him with change for
a Coke and a Milky Way from the motel vending
machines. Not much of a dinner, but it wasn't
as if he was actually hungry.

Several days ago, he'd heard about a series
of gruesome murders in the Denver area.
Intuition told him that it could only be the
work of one of his hundred and thirteen. The
devil usually showed up to give him some sort
of clue as to who he should go after next,
but their last encounter, on Christmas Eve,
had been less than enlightening.

At least as far as Ezekiel's mission here on
Earth was concerned; in other regards it had
been...

Well, "explosive" might be one word for it.
"Disturbing" would definitely be another.
Stone had tried to forget about it...and so far
he'd failed miserably. It was, after all,
understandably difficult to forget about a
kiss that had been better than the best sex
he'd ever had, no matter *who* the kiss had
come from.

No, make that *especially* because of who the
kiss had come from.

Ezekiel's thoughts had been going round in
circles over the incident ever since that
night, trying to figure out the devil's
motives. Had it just been a joke, another one
of those little pranks of which Satan was so
fond? The devil delighted in tormenting him,
that was nothing new. But was it possible he
had meant something more by that kiss...

Thinking of it again was enough to bring a
flush to the detective's face--and awaken a
stir of interest in his traitorous body.
Ezekiel leaned his head against the ice-
covered windowpane and sighed. This wasn't
right. He wasn't going to think about it now.
It had all been a joke, another prank
designed to simply mess with his mind. After
all, the devil had made a remark about New
Year's Eve before leaving that night, and
December thirty-first had come and gone
without incident. The new year was already a
week old and he hadn't been visited by the
annoying bastard once.

Ezekiel turned away from the window and put
on the TV, looking for a distraction. If he
was lucky there might even be something on
the news regarding the murders. He sat down
on the bed and started flipping through the
channels, but found it was too early for the
late-night news. Instead he started watching
a bizarre horror-comedy about creatures
called 'gremlins' running mad through a
Manhattan skyscraper. Mindless fluff, but
there was something about one of the actors
that caught his attention. Despite the
shorter, golden-brown hair, the man on the
TV screen bore an uncanny resemblance to...

No, couldn't be. Stone rubbed his eyes and
shook his head. He was seeing things now,
seeing Satan wherever he turned. This *had*
to be a bad sign. Maybe he really should go
outside and cool off in the snow for a while.
But just as he was reaching for the remote to
turn off the TV, the door to his room blew
open and then slammed shut with a gust of
cold air.

"I *hate* this weather!"

Bundled up in a thick winter coat, mittens,
earmuffs, and a scarf that would have made
Dr. Who envious, the devil stood by the door.
He didn't look happy. "I mean, really,
Ezekiel, you could have gone soul hunting
somewhere *warmer* this time of the year,
couldn't you? Denver, of all places..." He
started removing his bulky winter gear and
continued, "What about Miami? Key West? I
have it on good authority that several of
your wayward brethren have headed to warmer
climes of late...I suppose they're feeling
homesick."

"You haven't bothered to give me any clues
the last few weeks, so I had to rely on my
own hunches."

"Yes, and you aren't off the mark...I just
wish that your 'hunches' hadn't led right
into a blizzard. Scoot over." The devil sat
down next to Stone on the bed and turned a
curious eye to the TV, where his lookalike
was currently engaged in feeding a gremlin to
a paper shredder. Satan grimaced and
remarked, "Well *there's* one of my lesser
forays into the world of cinema."

Stone blinked, and looked back and forth
between the TV and the man--no, creature--
seated beside him. "That *is* you?"

"Who else would it be?"

"Do I want to know what you were doing
pursuing an acting career?"

"Even the devil needs a hobby or two," Satan
replied with a shrug. "Besides, I love
Hollyweird--it's where I do some of my best
recruiting work. Those people will sell their
souls for *anything*. Who else do you think
is responsible for the glorious proliferation
of sex and violence in prime time? Need I
even mention Scientology?"

"I should have guessed. So what is it you
want?" Stone asked, not sure he wanted to
know the answer.

"What do I want? Well, I know I'm a few days
late and I do apologize for that, Ezekiel. I
had some nasty trouble back home with some
rebellious incubi I had to...put down. They
weren't happy with their holiday bonuses this
year and tried to go union on me," Satan
sighed. Then he turned on a smile and
continued, "Nevertheless, I did promise you
something special for New Year's Eve, and I
don't want you to think I'm not a man of my
word. I know how much you enjoyed our last
little tete a tete."

"I didn't," Stone countered, though his
denial only made the devil laugh. He was
really starting to *hate* that laugh.

"Oh, come now, Mr. Stone, I beg to differ!
According to my recollection of the evening
in question, you enjoyed yourself quite
thoroughly." The devil leaned closer and
added, "Need me to refresh your memory?"

"This is some new game you're playing with
me, right?" Ezekiel accused, trying to ignore
the way the devil's smile and close proximity
was sparking something inside him--something
he refused to admit could be desire.

"A game, Ezekiel? All right, if that's what
you want to call it." The devil's eyes
sparkled with mischievous glee. "The object
of the game, then, is to get you to admit how
much you want me."

Stone snorted. "That'll happen when Hell
freezes over."

Laughing again, Satan said, "Such denial...I
love it! But you realize it's pointless when
I can see right through you, right into that
fuzzy-topped head of yours. I want you to
admit that right now, you're sitting here,
wondering what it would be like if I were to
kiss you again. It's all you've been thinking
about since Christmas Eve, isn't it?"

"No. No, you couldn't be more wrong." Stone
shook his head, wanting to get away from the
other man but somehow unable to move. He
tried telling himself he was just standing
his ground, refuting the devil's attempts to
get to him. Still he breathed a small sigh of
relief as Satan frowned and backed off a
few blessed inches. "You hurt my feelings,"
he pouted.

"That would require you having any to begin
with."

"Oh, but that's where you're wrong. So very,
very wrong..." the devil trailed off,
reaching out for Stone's cheek, his touch
light and undeniably erotic. Ezekiel shivered
in spite of himself at the touch, the way it
seemed to awaken every nerve ending under the
attention of those delicate fingertips.

"Stop," he protested, though he did not move
away.

"Make me," the devil taunted, fingers sliding
down to Stone's neck. "But you don't really
want me to stop, do you, Ezekiel?"

Stone bit back the moan that rose unbidden
from his throat. 'Dammit, how can he be doing
this to me?' he thought to himself. His skin
tingled, everywhere Satan touched him, and
the way the devil said his name...he felt an
ache inside at the sound of it.

"You ache for me because you are mine," the
devil whispered, moving even closer, until
his mouth was right against Stone's ear. "I
gave you this body; it is mine as much as it
is yours. Your soul is mine, until the day
the last of my marks is burned from your
skin. And by the time that day comes,
I will have your heart as well."

"Never," he choked out.

Satan laughed, his breath hot against Stone's
ear. "Yes, I will. But that's all right, make
me fight for it. I love a challenge." Stone
turned, intending to push Satan away. The
move was a mistake; the devil caught his
mouth for a kiss before he could fight him
off, and as soon as their lips touched, Stone
lost any interest in fighting.

The kiss was different this time--more like a
slowly smoldering fire than the explosion
that had overwhelmed Ezekiel's senses the
last time. But it was still good...so
incredibly good. He found himself compelled
to explore the other's mouth and the taste
was rich and exotic, like blood and wine,
like all the flavors he could ever crave and
desire. It was the taste of power.

Heat spread through his body, seared him as
he felt the devil's hands sliding under his
shirt, against his bare skin. Nails raked
over his flesh and there was no thinking, no
voice of reason telling him that this was
wrong, that he didn't want this. There was
only the heat, the taste of the devil's
kisses, the demanding touch of his hands.
Satan pushed him down onto the bed, pinning
him against the old mattress and creaky
bedsprings. Stone pulled at the devil's clothes,
heard the sound of fabric tearing as his
hands struggled to make contact with the
other's flesh. When he did, at last, the
devil released his mouth for a moment and let
out his breath with a hiss. Their gazes met
and Satan's gray eyes flashed red. Flame
rippled over their bodies, consuming the torn
clothes and leaving nothing but ash.

The ash scattered on a sudden warm breeze.
"Neat trick," Stone managed, his own vision
going red with the heat of his inhuman
desire.

"Oh, I'll show you more...so much more,"
Satan promised, pressing down against Stone,
kissing him once more as their bodies seemed
to melt together in the heat of their demonic
passion. The devil kissed his way down
Stone's throat and urged, "Tell me, Ezekiel.
Tell me how much you want me."

"I want you," Stone groaned before he could
silence his betraying tongue. It was true; he
tried to resist and summon the image of
Rosalyn's beautiful face in his mind, but it
melted away under the flames of the desire that
now filled him. With a desperate moan he
thrusted up against the hot flesh above him.
Satan pulled back, denying him release.
"Again!" he demanded. "Say it again..."

"I want you...want you..."

"Of course you do, Ezekiel. And now you'll
get exactly what you want."

Was it what he wanted? Ezekiel couldn't tell
any longer. How could he know if his desires
were really *his*, when the devil owned his
body and soul? Satan was lifting his legs,
spreading them. Pain seared him, shattered
him, but he couldn't summon the will to
fight. The pain melted away and transformed
into a terrible, fulfilling pleasure. He
dared open his eyes and all he saw was fire,
the fires of Hell reflected in the devil's
eyes, calling to him, calling him home.

He heard himself scream as the fire and
pleasure consumed him, and then everything
faded away into nothingness.

* * *

Disoriented, Stone opened his eyes, finding
the devil looking down at him, his face only
a few inches above his own. Ezekiel needed a
moment to remember where he was and what had
happened, and when he did his sense of
disorientation only increased. He was caught
between disgust and desire as he looked into
the other's eyes, studied his face, tried to
understand what could be going on in
Satan's mind.

The devil's gaze in that moment was surprisingly
gentle. Almost, Ezekiel was shocked to realize,
loving. Could the devil be in love with him?
No. No, that couldn't be the case.

But then Satan leaned down, his long hair
brushing Stone's cheeks as he pressed gentle
kisses on his eyelids. "You possess such
passion, Ezekiel, such fire...You *are* meant
to be mine. Forever. Some day you will come
to accept that. When the last of my one
hundred and thirteen has been returned to me,
I'll honor my word and give you a second
chance at life...if you still want me to. I
have a feeling you won't. You'll know your
place is with me." Satan held his gaze for
one last, long moment, and then with a smile
vanished.

Ezekiel shivered, feeling incredibly,
terribly cold.

* * *

End

Contact the author: sidewinder

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