#dylaniel

“Is something wrong?”  She asked.

“I…”  He felt embarrassed and he wasn't entirely sure why.  She was probably his closest friend beyond his family, he shouldn't have been so anxious around her.  “I don't know.”

“Is it my vessel?”  Nordael glanced at her female form.  Her vessel was conveniently attractive with dark eyes, plump lips, ample curves, & her black hair done up in braids.  “She has a brother that is considered quite handsome, if you prefer-”

“I don't know if that would help.”  Dylaniel looked at Nordael’s clothed chest trying to see if the thought of her topless would inspire him, but the only thing he felt was guilt at his disinterest.

“I know that you have responsibilities with your grace.”  She took another guess at what was bothering him.  “I wouldn't do anything to compromise that.”

“It's not that.”  Dylaniel reassured.  “You're my friend.  I trust you.”

Nordael looked at him with a level of affection that somehow made him feel worse.  She leaned a bit closer to him experimentally, then put her lips to his.  He slowly tried kissing her back even though his mouth suddenly feeling incredibly dry.  His body was horribly rigid and his heart was pounding.

“Stop.”  He whispered after almost a full minute.  She immediately looked up at him with visible concern.  “I'm sorry.”

“It's okay.”  She comforted, though he thought he could hear the disappointment in her voice.  “Is there anything I can do?”

“I'm not sure.”  Dylaniel admitted.  He closed his eyes for a moment trying to regain his focus- it was just another exercise, it was just new & he was nervous.  “I've just never done this before.”

“I can get another vessel, if that might help.”  Nordael suggested, then looked at him for some sort of response.  Unsure of what else to try, he nodded.  “I'll be right back, okay?”

“Okay.”

She disappeared.  Dylaniel rubbed his face, then looked down at his own body.  Despite not being particularly enticed by the situation he was partially hard.  He wondered if it was the result of his adrenaline, mere physical stimulation, or some sort of hormonal exchange in the trading of saliva.  After a few seconds hesitation he started touching himself, hoping to get some small measure of pleasure and maybe give himself a bit of momentum.  He didn't want to disappoint Nordael.

Nordael returned wearing a young man probably only a few years older than Dylaniel.  He was slightly muscular with frizzy black hair and the same dark eyes & plush lips as the previous vessel.  He must've been the brother that she'd referred to earlier.  Nordael glanced down at the fact that Dylaniel’s pants were undone and a subtle smile grew on the angel’s face.

“Is this vessel better or worse?”  He asked hopefully.

“It's fine.”  Dylaniel answered.  He couldn't articulate what he was feeling.  The male vessel was rather handsome, but Dylaniel wasn't any more excited than he had been by the female vessel.

Nordael climbed back on top of him, watching Dylaniel for any objections.  He leaned down, then kissed Dylaniel again.  

Dylaniel reached up experimentally.  He tried cupping Nordael’s cheek & the back of the angel’s neck, but the unnecessary skin-to-skin contact just made everything worse.  His hand moved down along Nordael's shirt, feeling his chest through the fabric.  Not knowing what else to do with his hand, Dylaniel continued downward.  Nordael enthusiastically ground, pressing his own clothed forming erection against Dylaniel's hand.  Dylaniel tensed, causing Nordael to break the kiss.

“Are you sure you're okay?”  Nordael asked.

“Yes.”  He lied.  

Nordael moved down Dylaniel's body and knelt on the floor.  He slowly started pulling down Dylaniel's pants.  When Dylaniel didn't stop him, Nordael slid down his boxers, then grabbed the nephilim’s dick.  Dylaniel gripped onto the edge of the couch as Nordael took him in.  

Dylaniel leaned his head back and stared at the ceiling.  In some ways it felt good, but it was also deeply upsetting.  It was too intense in almost every way imaginable.  The contact was more invasive than anything he could remember.  He felt mortified & confused.  Before he could think of what to do Nordael let him out and looked up.

“Do you want me to keep doing this or I could climb on top of you?”

“I don't think the oral sex is working.”  Dylaniel answered.  He wasn't sure how else to describe the feelings that it instilled in him.  It was hard to imagine that any other sexual act would be an improvement, but it was even harder to imagine anything worse short of physical pain.  He didn't understand what he was supposed to be feeling, but he knew he hadn't achieved it and that made him feel even more guilty.

Nordael stood up and took off his pants & underwear.  Dylaniel stared at Nordael’s erection and thought about how attracted to & aroused by him the angel must be.  The disparity in their relationship was more than a bit unsettling.  Nordael leaned forward against the couch, then noticed that Dylaniel was blatantly looking at his dick.

“I assumed that you'd prefer to penetrate me, but if you’d rather that I penetrate you I could do that.”  Nordael offered in a move that Dylaniel found both dizzying & strangely considerate.

“I don't know what I'm doing.  I don't know what's right.”  Dylaniel managed, then thought of one solid thing that might give him some foundation in this foreign territory.  “What would make you happy?”

Nordael smiled down at Dylaniel as he started to straddle him.  The angel pushed himself down onto Dylaniel's hard & still slick dick, then started rocking back & forth.  The head of Nordael's dick slipped under Dylaniel's shirt and rubbed awkwardly against his abs.  Nordael held onto the top of the couch, but arched his back with visible pleasure.

Dylaniel’s heart was hammering so hard that he thought he might pass out.  He wasn't sure if that was supposed to happen, either way he didn't like it.  The contact was too much- the smell of sweat & pre-cum- the taste- the panting- the pressure.  Everything was too much.  He didn't feel like he was in control and he didn't know the right way to stop it.  It was taking all of his willpower not to just shoved Nordael off of him, but he didn't want to hurt him or their friendship.  Nordael shifted, causing the tip of Dylaniel's dick to hit a point that made Nordael ride him harder as his eyes rolled back.

“You're incredible.”  Nordael moaned as he clenched around Dylaniel and came onto Dylaniel's chest.  Then he looked down at Dylaniel for the first time since shortly after he'd started riding him.

“What’s wrong?”  Nordael's eyes widened, nearly horrified by something that Dylaniel couldn't really process.

“I'm fine.”

“You're crying.”

“I'm sorry.”  Dylaniel whispered, unsure what else to say.

Nordael hastily climbed off of Dylaniel and waved his hand cleaning up the mess.  He grabbed Dylaniel's pants and helped cover him.

“Please don't tell anyone about this.”  As soon as Dylaniel asked he knew it was an unnecessary statement.  They both were well aware that they weren't supposed to have sex.  Dylaniel was supposed to stay a virgin until an appropriately vetted partner could be found for him.

“I wouldn't do that to you.”  Nordael assured.  He reached out to touch Dylaniel in an attempt to provide comfort, but hesitated to do anything that might make the situation worse.  “I'm so sorry.  What did I do wrong?”

“I'm not sure.  I think I'm the problem.”  Dylaniel said.  Nordael draped a blanket over Dylaniel, then sat attentively on the far edge of the couch.  

“No, I shouldn't have done that.”  Nordael shook his head and refused to meet Dylaniel's gaze.  “I just thought that there was something between… I misjudged the situation.  I should've seen that you weren't enjoying it and just stopped.”

“I wasn't clear... I was trying.”  Dylaniel sighed.  “I know I'm supposed to enjoy that, but I… I don't want to do that.  I don't want to do that with anyone, even with you, and you're my friend.  I care about you.”

“I…”  Nordael hesitated, visibly devastated, but in that moment Dylaniel wasn't capable of reading the emotions on the angel’s face.  “I care about you too.”

“I don't know what I'm supposed to do when they give me a partner.”  Dylaniel said, causing Nordael dim even more.  “I have to be able to do this- it's my responsibility...  I don't want to let them down.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?”  Nordael asked uncertainly.

“No.”

“Should I leave?”

“No.”  Dylaniel said as he pulled the blanket more tightly around himself.  Nordael sat back on the couch, settling in for as long as Dylaniel wanted company.  

“I know that you have duties for your grace that you’ll eventually have to perform,”  Nordael pursed his lips.  “but in every other context you shouldn't have to endure that.  You aren't a thing to be used.  You can say no to people, even a friend.”

“Thank you for being my friend.”  Dylaniel offered after a long silence.

“It's not hard.”  

“Yes it is.”

“No, it's really not.”

Author’s note: 

I debated whether or not to have Dylaniel admit that he'd had sex* during the game of Never Have I Ever in the epilogue.  The fact that he'd had sex* had always been one of those things I'd known, but wasn't sure if I'd ever post or address.  Part of me wanted to leave it a secret unless explicitly asked by a reader whether it was the case or not.  The other part of me wanted to give him the chance to continue confiding in others & opening himself up more.  

I decided to post the scene because I don’t want to be dismissive of his experience by leaving it unexplained- only mentioned in a lighthearted scene in the epilogue.  In its ambiguity his admission might get a laugh, but the truth is there’s a reason that he doesn’t want to talk about it.

I had/have a few concerns with the scene, but I'm not sure how possible it is for me to be comfortable with such an uncomfortable thing.  I didn't want the interaction to come off as him being asexual because he'd had a bad sexual experience, but rather he's asexual & non-physical and that made sexual contact a very unpleasant experience for him.  Another really weird part of this whole thing is trying to depict a sex* scene that's meant to be not sexy and yet not overly aggressive or violent.  I'm not really sure if the tone comes through or not, but that's what I was going for.

To his disappointment, Lucifer was watching with rapt attention when Dylaniel reached the bottom of the stairs.  He'd tried to open the door to the basement quietly, but the Archangel's senses were better than he'd anticipated.  Even though thing wasn't going to plan, he continued into the basement.

“What brings something like you down here?”  Lucifer's question began as little more than a snarl, but by the end of the sentence there was a dark amusement to his voice.

Dylaniel wasn't sure what to say.  He'd been hoping that the Archangel would be incapacitated.  His dad had repeatedly complained to his xe that Sam & Lucifer were largely nonfunctional.  Faced with a completely lucid foe was something he hadn't expected.  More than that, he wasn't prepared to see such a venomous expression from his uncle Sam’s face.

“Is your trouble with speaking or are you as deaf as your dad?  Or is it your mind that's damaged?”  Lucifer asked after waiting several seconds for Dylaniel to reply.  “You know that everyone is aware there's something wrong with you.  It's not just the fact that you're soiled- it's actually funny.  The last of Michael’s line and you're a cripple.”

“I'm fine.”  Dylaniel spoke up, but he suddenly felt very aware of his posture.  He shifted his weight, trying to look more like how he thought an average human might stand.

“That's what they've taught you to say.”  Lucifer was nearly purring and hardly seemed to notice the few drops of blood escaping his right tear duct & ear.  “Don't you ever wonder why you're broken?  Don't you ever wonder why you would turn out this way unless it was God’s will?  The first publicized offense to the natural order and you're defective.”

“He doesn't care about me- it's chance- it's not my fault.”  Dylaniel's throat felt tight as he gripped the leather bag tighter.  “There's nothing wrong with me.”

“Sam's seen it.  Ever since you were born Dean’s tried so hard to pretend that you were normal, to pretend that he could love you.  You were his one shot at having a family and what a disappointment.  He wanted a son, but all he got was another third rate solider.  The only person you’ve ever come close to killing was Castiel when you were born-”

Dylaniel was trembling slightly.  He pulled one of his dad's pistols from his bag.  The gun dwarfed him, but its weight didn't bother him.  He aimed at Lucifer, then gathered his conviction, blessing the weapon.

“You think it's that easy to kill me?”

Dylaniel unloaded the entire magazine and kept pulling the trigger several times before he realized that Lucifer was still alive.  The Archangel had merely teleported to the other side of his cell, out of the line of fire.  He telekinetically pulled the bullets from the wall and held them in his palm.

“You know that you won't be the one to kill me, right?”  Lucifer smiled at Dylaniel.  “You won't kill Michael either.  You’d never kill your dad.  You're just too weak to get the job done.  Michael must be furious to know that his grace wasn't just soiled, but it was wasted.  All that potential just buried in such a small pathetic thing.”

“I’ll kill you.”  Dylaniel watched Lucifer rolling the bullets on his palm.  “I'm not scared of you.”

Lucifer telekinetically hurled one of the bullets through the bars.  It lost some control & momentum as it passed beyond Lucifer's influence, but it struck Dylaniel's left leg piercing the flesh.

The door at the top of the stairs burst open as Dean came rushing down.  Lucifer tried firing at Dean but the bullet stopped short, grabbed by Alex, who followed his uncle down.  Dean didn't even look at Lucifer.  He started applying pressure to the gunshot wound, then wrapped his arms around Dylaniel picking him up.

“Dean, we were just talking about you-”  Lucifer started, but Dean was already carrying his son up the stairs.

“Don't listen to anything he said.”  Dean warned while tucking Dylaniel into bed.  Cas had rushed home to heal the gunshot wound.  Despite the fact that their son didn't cry from the pain, they both agreed that Cas should partially sedate him.  “He's not your uncle.”

“Lucifer is my uncle.”  Dylaniel still managed to correct his dad through his drowsiness.

“You know what I mean.”  Dean had taken the pistol from Dylaniel's hands after getting him upstairs.  He didn't need to ask why he’d gone down there.  “Promise me that you won't go down there by yourself.”

“You're scared he’ll kill me?”

“I'm scared of a lot of ways it could go.”  Dean admitted.

“I promise.”  Dylaniel said solemnly.  “You didn't ask me… make me promise not to kill him.”

Dean pulled the bedsheets taut and tucked the blanket under Dylaniel’s shoulders in order to buy himself a few extra seconds to reconsider the issue.  It wasn’t the sort of thing he ever wanted to talk about, but at the very least he’d been hoping that if it had to occur, it’d be many years from then.  That didn’t stop him from occasionally worrying about Dylaniel eventually being the natural choice to fight Lucifer should the need arise- Dean wouldn’t be alive forever.  And he knew that Dylaniel took promises so seriously that he’d grown to never throw the word around lightly.

“I wouldn't ask you to promise me something like that.”  Dean assured.  “I couldn't kill him, maybe I'd never really be able to- hopefully we'll never find out...  I don't want you going down there to confront him, but if something ever happens I want you to know that it's okay to protect yourself.”

“He said I couldn't kill him.”  Dylaniel didn't meet his dad's eyes.

“Assholes love to put down people that they're scared of.”  Dean tilted his head in an allusion to a shrug.

“He isn't scared of me.”

“There's a shattered knife on your wall that says otherwise.”  Dean pointed to the fragments of the knife that Dylaniel stabbed Lucifer with half a year earlier.

“Is Sam dead?”  Dylaniel asked quietly.  

He knew that Sam was a sore subject for his dad, but he was trying to understand what had just happened.  Years earlier he'd learned that some inhabited vessels were alive & some were dead.  The truth was that he didn't know what his uncle's state was.  At various times he'd overheard his parents & Ruby refer to Lucifer as ‘destroying’, ‘strangling’, or ‘overpowering’ Sam, but it wasn't clear if that was figurative, literal, and/or lethal.

“No, but he's not well- it's like he's hurt, but we can't make him better.”  Dean closed his eyes for a moment, trying to maintain his composure.  “Most of the time he's not in control and we don't know what he's perceiving or how he's doing.”   

“Is he ever Sam when you visit him?”

“Sometimes, for a few minutes.  I can see him…”  Dean rubbed his face to wipe away the forming tears.  “Just remember that he loves you... and I know that he saved us before, but you can't ever count on him again.  You understand?”