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At 1.37am, the door of an empty meeting room cautiously creaks open.
Behind it is Heaven’s golden boy— the newly appointed exorcist commander, Abel.
He’s fine. At least, that’s what he tells himself.
In truth, the esteemed angel has seen better days. Sleep deprivation reveals itself in darkened circles under his eyes, audaciously staining an otherwise perfect angelic face.
Ever since his father’s death, ever since he’d been sworn in as the new commander, he’s been on edge. The potential wrath of sinners haunted his every thought, and this fear was only exacerbated by his two recent excursions down to Hell.
Though everything had been sorted out (at least, for now) and the threat of war had quietened significantly in the past weeks, Abel couldn’t seem to calm those anxious thoughts of his. Memories of dark red skies and angry sinners lingered, unwilling to let go of him even as the dust settled.
Abel remained aware of his unique responsibility as the commander— it was his job to lead the defending forces of Heaven. True, peaceful negotiations were underway. Emily and Charlie were doing exemplary work in bridging the interests of Heaven and Hell. But what if those negotiations went awry? What if another bad-faith actor like Vox stepped in and stirred the pot again? Incited more violence?
No one could be sure until a foolproof agreement was solidified. Until then, Abel would do everything he could to keep a watchful eye over the souls of Heaven, paranoid of what may happen if he faltered.
On nights like these, that paranoia proved insatiable.
Slumber refused to carry him away from dreadful thoughts, and no amount of taffies or Christmas rom-coms could distract him from them either.
So, knowing that no one else would be awake to question why, he entered the empty embassy building and made a beeline for one of its many meeting rooms.
Taking a deep breath as he sat down, he activated the all-seeing orb on the table, just as he had done countless other times.
Abel found solace in the orb.
The ability to check-in on anyone, anywhere, anytime he wanted— well, of course it was comforting. In fact, without the all-seeing orb’s assistance all those weeks ago, Emily might truly have perished in Hell and…
Abel didn’t like dwelling on it as much as he did.
Resultingly, Emily was usually the first person he checked up on. Her new prosthetic wing silently berated him for not doing a better job at protecting her. Still, the sight of her peacefully sleeping eased some ache in his mind, and he found it in himself to smile.
Next was Peter, yet another soul he considered a close friend. He too, slept peacefully, and Abel briefly wished that he could’ve had a job as pleasantly simple as Peter’s.
Sera, in all her strength and glory, wasn’t really somebody who needed protection— Abel knew this. He also knew that her abilities were far beyond his own, so there wasn’t really anything he could do for her. Nevertheless, it was always comforting to see that Sera was getting the rest she deserved.
Pentious was snuggled up peacefully with his eggs, as always. It was odd, getting to become friends with someone who was killed by his deceased father. But seeing Pentious sleep so soundly was yet another source of comfort to Abel. It provided him a much-needed reminder that not all sinners were inherently cruel, and that Emily and Charlie’s work would only save more individuals like Pen from eternal damnation.
Lute was typically next in Abel’s roster of check-ups. Despite their disagreements and her obvious contempt for him, Abel could not bring himself to lack concern for her. Though she’d probably never accept any help from him, these secret checks felt like the least he could do as her superior officer. As usual, she looked aggravated, even in slumber. But she was safe, and that was good enough.
As he motioned to switch the orb’s view once more, his thoughts ventured to you. They almost always did sooner or later.
Abel’s heart skipped a beat as your name echoed in his mind, the tips of his wings fluttering gently. In all of Heaven, there was nobody he wished to protect more than you.
You’d always been so unceasingly kind to him, providing him company when his grief and worries felt too immense to bear alone, believing in him when hardly anyone else did.
Upon arriving in Heaven years ago, you took immediate comfort in his presence, and he quickly became your first friend in the afterlife. Abel rarely ever came across mortal souls that viewed him as an equal, let alone one that he got to spend so much quality time with. He enjoyed hearing about modern Earth and your pre-death experiences on it, and over time, found himself swooning at the mere sound of your voice.
So maybe he liked you a little. A lot, actually.
Specifics weren’t important. All that mattered was your safety. He’d never forgive himself if anything bad happened to you.
So when he shifted the all-seeing orb’s focus to you, finding you curled up on your bed with a scrunched up face, panic rose in his chest. He stiffened attentively, just about ready to get up and fly to your apartment at full speed to help. You looked uncomfortable, like you were in pain.
But then a soft whine fell from your lips and all of Abel’s thoughts came to a screeching halt.
Oh.
Oh.
You weren’t in pain at all.
Pink heat blossomed in Abel’s cheeks and spread right to the tips of his ears as he finally noticed the way your hand was tucked between your thighs in a gentle back and forth motion.
His heartbeat accelerated, now for entirely different reasons. He should look away. He should de-activate the orb. He knew he should, but…
You whined again. A sound that bested any heavenly choir that he’d ever heard. He didn’t want to stop looking.
He bit his lip as you spread your legs, getting more and more lost in your pleasure, completely unaware that Abel was watching you from afar. In a way, that made his head spin with even more giddy bliss. You weren’t even putting on a show for anyone, you were just that pretty, and oh how lucky he was to even catch a glimpse of this.
Abel whimpered as he felt his own hardness growing steadily, making itself more and more known with every second he continued watching you. He fidgeted, face red and hot. This was very wrong.
So very wrong.
But the way you looked, flushed and needy in nothing but an oversized sleep shirt and underwear was so right.
How could he possibly stop now?
So, against all better judgement, Abel reached down and under his robe to touch himself, shuddering breathlessly as he felt the warmth of his own hand.
He stroked himself in tandem with your movement, watching carefully as you sped up or slowed down your ministrations, wishing to be your friction. Wishing to be your pleasure.
Abel wasn’t very experienced, hell, he didn’t even masturbate very often. The sin of lust wasn’t one he found himself grappling with frequently. So as he sat in the empty meeting room, harder than he’d ever been in his life, he had half a mind to berate himself.
‘This is sinful and disgusting of you’ His thoughts screamed.
‘To be a voyeur? To touch yourself in this sacred place? Get a grip, you pervert!’
But alas, a particularly loud, drawn-out moan from you dispelled him of all these thoughts— almost as if you wanted him to keep going.
Abel shivered, his eyebrows knitting together in such conflicted pleasure as he continued to jerk himself off. He wasn’t used to these sensations in the slightest, and he definitely wasn’t used to the sight of someone as beautiful as you doing something so explicit.
“Ah…I-I’m so sorry…please please please just…just let me…” he panted. He wasn’t even sure what he was begging for at this point, overcome only by his unshakable need for you.
Watching slick build up between your thighs, he whined a bit louder than he’d have liked to. God, he’d love to get just one taste of you. He sped up his movements, hips bucking pathetically into his own fist. He was close, and it seemed like you were too, if your increasingly-desperate noises were anything to go off of.
But then, as you sank your hips down into your hand with a passionate thrust, completing your ascension to orgasmic bliss, the unexpected happened.
“Abelll…” You moaned, eyes screwing shut in pleasure as you came.
Abel’s eyes widened, his brain short-circuiting as white hot pleasure shot through his body. He yelped, instantly coming undone at the sound of his name and painting the underside of his robe with his spend.
He continued to make a flurry of whining noises, head dropping down weakly to rest against the cold glass of the table as he struggled through what was easily the strongest orgasm of his life.
Once he’d milked himself clean and regained some composure, he looked back up to the orb, attempting to catch his breath. The sight that met him was of you sprawled out on your sheets, tuckered out and satisfied. Honestly, you looked a mess, but to him, you looked…
“So pretty…” He whispered, in awe of your afterglow.
Your chest rose up and down steadily as you slowly fell into peaceful slumber. The whole time, Abel watched, a blush dusting his chubby cheeks as he imagined getting to lay by your side and hold you through the night.
Once he was sure that you were safe and asleep, he got up, powering down the all-seeing orb as he left the meeting room. He cringed at the sensation of his cum stains when he attempted walking, opting instead to fly back to his apartment.
There, a warm shower and a fluffy set of sheep-patterned PJs awaited him. But as he snuggled into his bedsheets, preparing for much-needed slumber of his own, the realisation truly dawned on him—
You had moaned his name.
You had been touching yourself to the idea of him.
You liked him.
Fresh hardness began to grow steadily in his pants. Abel groaned. Looks like he wouldn’t be getting much sleep after all.