#bokrisjan

It turned out a bit longer than I expected, but I hope it's not bad! ~🐇

Bojan had hoped the church would grant him at least a moment of peace. Desperate, he knelt before the altar, repeating the same prayers like a mantra, trying to force the image of the devils from his mind. Ever since they'd crossed his path, he'd felt them poisoning and corrupting his thoughts. But he was a strong angel. He couldn't allow himself to be tempted.

A whisper brushed against his ears. He turned immediately toward the sound. Standing in the shadows were the very devils who had haunted every one of his dreams.

"Oh, Bojč."

It was the taller one who spoke, slowly closing the distance between them. His companion followed a heartbeat later. Bojan instinctively stepped back, his heart pounding against his ribs.

"Hiding from us in the house of God..." the devil mused with a crooked smile. "Adorable. Though terribly naïve. Your subconscious has been drawing us to you all along. It was you who summoned us."

A shiver ran through Bojan.

Fear twisted in his stomach, uncertainty clawing at his chest as he wondered what would become of him. But beneath it all, another feeling grew stronger with every passing second.

Desire.

Especially when the pair looked at him the way predators looked at prey. He knew this time it wouldn't end with words alone.

"You can still leave," the other devil suddenly said. Jan, if Bojan remembered his name correctly. "We'll let you walk away." He tilted his head ever so slightly.

"Your choice, darling."

For a fleeting moment, Bojan considered it.

Then he realized he wanted them too much to run. He longed for the forbidden fruit. He longed for them.

They threw him onto the altar. His snow-white wings curled tightly around him as the cold marble pressed against his back.

"So deliciously innocent."

The devil with the longer, magnificent wings—Kris, traced his tongue along the untouched skin of Bojan's neck. The sensation sent a pleasurable shiver through him.

The devils held him firmly against the stone altar as they tore through his robes, sharp claws leaving crimson trails across his unblemished skin.

"Now," Kris murmured, his voice low and commanding, "say our names as loudly as you whispered those fragile little prayers."

He leaned in close enough for his breath to ghost across Bojan's lips.

"Because tonight..."

A slow smile spread across his face.

"...we are your gods."