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cibeeorsomeshit · 7 months ago

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In that case, sure! I'd like if you link back to the original story on your post :)! Thank you!

Pathetic Bird

A/N: Andrealphus/Stolas hate sex 🔞 I think Andre deludes himself into thinking Stolas suck but secretly lust and obsessed over him

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Andrealphus grew up surrounded by crystal and diamonds that appealed to his peacock sensibility very well. Long ago when he first saw Stella’s betrothed, he was aghast (as much as a young child, albeit a Goetia, could be) at the future where this dull little gray thing would be a part of his family, and he voiced his disdain out loud.

No doubt Stella was thinking the same thing, though by insulting her future husband Andrealphus was insulting her prospect as well.

“At least I’m going to be a princess,” she sneered at her brother. “You will only be a marquess.”

Andrealphus burned her wardrobe for that. It was something Stella complained about to this day, even though their mother bought her twice the clothes she had before, all more colorful than the previous. Nothing like the colorless prince that lay in their future, no matter how bright his smile might be.

Even after they all came into their rightful thrones, Stolas was bland, all blue-gray and black feathers. Andrealphus hated the lack of colors on him, and standing next to Stella it was even more obvious how lacking he was. Only his eyes were worth looking at.

So what did Stolas think he was doing now, showing up to Beltane looking like that?

“What do you what?” Stolas said icily, only then did Andrealphus realize he had moved from his place next to the host, and was now directly in Stolas’ carefully preserved private space.

“Just wanted to see your new divorcee look.” Andrealphus tilted his head playfully, scanning Stolas up and down with what he thought must be devastating disdain. “Trying to show everyone you’re not bothered, are you?”

Stolas took a careful sip of his wine. “That’s your word.”

Andrealphus’ eyes twitched. Stolas never wore white, let alone billowy gauze white robes that stretched further than his tail feathers. Across the room, Stolas in all white with his blood red eyes cut a striking figure, up close Andrealphus noticed he was wearing a string of tiny, finely cut rubies with baroque pearls woven in. The fastidious need for perfect geometry made Andrealphus want to rip that necklace right off from where it nested in Stolas’ chest fluff.

“If you are simply going to vex me with your presence, I’m going to take my leave.” Stolas put his now empty wine glass on a table. Andrealphus snapped back to reality from his —irritation, as always when it came to his ex brother-in-law, and said the thing he knew was guaranteed to stop Stolas in his tracks.

“You didn’t bring your little imp whore?” Andrealphus twisted around in the perfect curve that placed him right next to Stolas. “Beltane is quite informal, you know. Guests of all…classes are welcome to come and get a taste of us. Trouble in hell?”

Stolas didn’t turn to face him. “Blitzø has no interest in this sort of event.”

“No interest in this, or in you?”

Stolas was resolutely staring ahead. Andrealphus let out a gleeful chuckle. “Oh, is that it! My, my, getting dumped by an imp is a new low. Honestly, even with how little I regard you, I thought you wouldn’t fall to this depth.”

Stolas started walking off. Andrealphus kept pace.

“Is that your reason for your unusual choice of wardrobe today? A new bedmate? I can see how it might give off the impression. People won’t have to do very much to get to your body with that glorified cloth you have on…”

Andrealphus wasn’t expecting Stolas to halt like someone had suddenly nailed his tail to the ground. Andrealphus managed to save the forced stop from being ungraceful with a teasing grin, turning back to savor the pathetic look on Stolas’ face, only to be greeted by a much closer prince, looking at him with half-lidded eyes.

Stolas pressed closer, so close his chest feather brushed against Andrealphus, and with a voice so sultry he never heard from anyone in the Goetia family, and never in the world from Stolas: “Are you offering?”

“What?” Beltane or not, the magic in the ballroom shouldn’t have let Andrealphus feel like he was suffocating all of the sudden. His words came out rough, parched. Stolas’ mouth dropped open. Hot breaths that smelled of wine and faint herbs spread across Andrealphus’ every senses. He swallowed thickly.

It was Stolas’ turn to tilt his head at him. “Are you thirsty?” Stolas started walking them backwards. Andrealphus had no clue where he was being taken, only that the noise of the ballroom faded, the lights dimmed as they pushed through a thick and musty-smelling tapestry, and they were suddenly much, much closer than they ever were in their lives. Stolas’ talon glided underneath Andrealphus’ fur boa and raked roughly through his feathers. “I can help with that.”

Stolas’ wet, hot tongue plunged into Andrealphus’ opened mouth, licking across everything, teasing the tip of Andrealphus’ tongue before wrapping around it in the most depraved way. Andrealphus wasn’t thinking. He couldn’t form a thought. His feathers puffed all the way out and he never felt this warm and tight in his body before. It was as if something wanted to claw its way out to reach Stolas.

But Stolas pulled away before he could be torn apart, and the aftershock from the tonguefuck was as thick and sticky as the string of saliva connecting them.

“You…” Andrealphus wanted to call Stolas a whore, a bitch, a disgrace or anything that would give him back some sort of control, but Stolas was panting right into his face and the black eyeliner was as sever as the suicide Andrealphus wanted to commit right now. Andrealphus’ hands gripped those impossibly narrow waist. Stolas moaned.

“You did come to look for a fuck.” Andrealphus wanted to hear Stolas admit that, at least.

Stolas laughed right at him. “No, Andrealphus.” Stolas flipped them around so Andrealphus was the one pressing him into the wall, grinding his ass backward “I think that was you.”

“You think anyone out there was planning on touching you? After divorcing a perfectly respectable wife for a lowly creature?”

Stolas turned his head all the way around and grinned wide enough that it nearly split his face apart. “I think you got the description backwards.”

Andrealphus gripped Stolas’ face with one hand and rucked up the fabric covering Stolas’ backside. Even without parting the fine feathers there Andrealphus could see the slightest pink among them.

He let go of Stolas’ face so he could use both hands. “Good lord,” Andrealphus sucked in a hissing breath, rubbing at Stolas’ puffy and already leaking hole “How often does that animal fuck you? You look like an overused toy.”

“Blitzø knows what he’s doing. Unlike someone,” Stolas said in a bored tone. He reached behind and slipped into himself easily. “I’m going to cum whether you’re going to do something or not. Leave if you want.”

Andrealphus gritted his beak, and for a second he did consider leaving Stolas like this. But then he saw the hand Stolas didn’t have inside of himself was playing with his necklace, and the color scheme was abruptly and undoubtedly intentional. Andrealphus saw red.

Why was Stolas still thinking about that imp? It had been months. It was all over the news and every gossip circle that they had fallen out. The imp was taking on more clients than ever and Stolas was barely seen outside of his palace. And yet here he was, picking his jewelry based on who it reminded him of, a fucking dirt poor commoner that threw him away once the opportunity came.

Stolas’ fingers were ripped out of his hole and replaced by Andrealphus’ cock, pushing all the way in until they were flushed against each other and Stolas was rising on the tip of his talons, gasping from the rough intrusion.

“Haaaaa…” Stolas laughed, though it mixed with his moans. “Of course you would be soooo familiar with that spell. Still trying to pretend you’re not as salacious as the rest of hell?”

“Stop talking.”

“Hmmm, well, when I’m with Blitzø my mouth is usually otherwise occupied, or unable to speak all together. As I say, you might be able to conjure a cock, but whether or not you know how to use iiiiiiiiiiit—ohhhhhhhhh…”

Andrealphus’ movement was all hard thrusts and bruising pace. He didn’t want Stolas to talk back at all. “I suppose—I understand why Stella would say—ah—you are bad in bed, your body is so obviously made to be fucked—”

“Do not bring that woman up,” Stolas bit out. And that was no good, the talking back, the still coherent thoughts, the not shaking knees. Andrealphus wanted Stolas to walk out of here with the clear limp in his steps so that everyone would know he just got well and truly fucked. He wanted Stolas to show up next time, dressed in crystals and aquamarine, pathetically broadcasting to the world how much he wanted to sit on Andrealphus’ cock and never get off. Just a shuddering, wet mess of a whore born into a royal’s body. Stolas was letting out tiny strings of “oh, oh, oh—” in time with Andrealphus’ thrusts. The feathers on Stolas’ back were straining to puff out through the sweat that matted them.

Andrealphus didn’t want to drag this out. This was a quick fuck in the secluded corner behind a tapastry, nothing more. So he pushed in hard and pressed a finger just below Stolas’ opening, stimulating the sensitive spot from both sides, and just as Andrealphus planned, Stolas came with a shuddering gasp, twisting his torso around and pressing his thighs together to milk the sensation longer.

Andrealphus pulled out and came on Stolas’ tender backside, rubbing the stickiness into Stolas’ legs in a possessive haze after experiencing continuous pleasure rather than one single good orgasm, better than he had remembered in a while. In his orgasm-muddled mind, he let his talons linger on the thighs he never knew would be so lovely to the touch. Just as his fingertips started to trail further down, Stolas stood up straight, draped his robe over his glistening hole and efficiently combed every feather and fabric back in place like he wasn’t a mess of drool and Andrealphus’ cum a few minutes ago.

“Have a good rest of your evening, Andrealphus,” Stolas said, red eyes never even glancing at him as he adjusted his necklace, swept past him and left nothing but the vacuum of his absence.

And if Andrealphus froze that entire part of the palace and few of the staff in the aftermath, it wasn’t fucking enough.

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