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“Aw, Counsellor Gortash! Your dad’s here!” Karlach’s voice carried through Enver’s cracked office door. The tiefling always spoke loudly when she was excited and that was a lot. She saw the world through the eyes of a child. A rather large child. It was…cute. He wished he could see the city how she does—a coat she slipped on called ‘home,’ while he sees Baldur’s Gate as a dagger in the moonlight—a dagger he will someday wield. Though, that was a musing for another time, as his ‘father’ is coming for a visit.
It couldn’t be Dravo Flymm. That man hadn’t called him son since he’d let Enver be taken in the middle of the night by a devil, though, speaking of the devil…
“My dearest Enver. There you are.” Raphael spoke as he entered the office. Tonight he was swallowed in a long, death black cloak on the count of the slew of rain rattling Baldur’s Gate like coppers hitting the stone. The devil had his hand clamped around a cane he only carried for style. His eyes shined with the same cruel amusement of a child melting a grasshopper with a magnifying glass.
And Karlach just let him walk in. He will need to have a talk with her.
“Raphael.” Enver acknowledged before knocking back the rest of his wine from his silver goblet. He placed it on the table with more force than necessary before sitting behind his desk.
“Please, please—refer to me as Father Dearest.” Raphael said. “It’s what your sweet Karlach called me before I came in to see you. She’s a very nice girl. A bit thick in the head, but she has her charm.”
“I see that. She didn’t cut you in two.”
Raphael chuckled. “She wouldn’t do that to your dear father. She, instead, was very happy to see me. You see, she says you spend so much of your time alone these days. How heartbreaking for a child in your position.”
I have you to thank for that.
“What do you need?” Enver asked. “I’m very busy.”
“Is that any way to talk to your father?” Raphael said with mock hurt before smirking. “I taught you proper manners, Pup. Use them.”
“Is this really the game you want to play tonight?” Enver asked.
“Such a mood. You used to love games.” Raphael said before he shed his cloak and slipped it over the back of the chair in front of Enver’s desk. He lowered his voice. “And yes. You will play along.”
“Raphael—“
“Father Dearest.” Raphael corrected.
“Father Dearest.” Enver said, almost through clenched teeth. “To what do I owe the honor of your company?”
“That’s more like it.” Raphael pulled out the chair before sitting in it. “Now, get rid of the tiefling for daddy.”
Enver took a slow breath. “Karlach? You may take the rest of the night off. I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow.”
“Really?” Karlach’s voice is muffled through the door. “Are you going to be okay?”
“I will be fine.” Enver said. “Goodnight, Karlach.”
“Night.” Karlach’s footsteps faded until they were lost in the rain. Enver turned his attention to Raphael. The devil smiled at him.
“Good boy, good boy.” Raphael said. “Very obedient.”
“Only because I’m rather curious as to why you’re here.”
“But is it truly curiosity? Or is it merely that I’ve taught you to respect your betters?”
“I am not your slave, Raphael. You hold no sway over me.”
“And yet, you haven’t told me to leave. You may not work for me anymore but that doesn’t mean you don’t belong to me.” Raphael said. “I also have an…obligation to see how my boy is faring.”
“You are not my father.”
“Oh, come now. I’ve raised you.”
“Fathers don’t do what you did to me.”
“Can you say that for certain, child?” Raphael asked. No. Enver couldn’t because Dravo sold him like he was a work horse. He had no clue how families should behave and what little Raphael knows of familiar ties comes from the arch-devil Mephistopheles. From what Enver has pieced together of Raphael’s history, Mephistopheles was more of a lord to the devil than whatever a father was supposed to be.
“What do you want?” Enver asked.
“To check up on you. You’ve been all across this great city today, Counsellor Gortash.” Raphael said with a chuckle. “Seeing you schmooze and flatter your way through the ranks of Baldur’s Gate’s elite was enough to make even me weary. Has it brought you any closer to the glory you seek?”
“Why is it any concern of yours?”
“You know, you don’t have anything to prove.” Raphael said as if Enver had never spoken. “There is no shame in coming back into my loving embrace. I still have all your old toys.”
“I don’t need you or the Flymms. I don’t need anyone.”
“Ah, but you do need Zariel.”
“How did you…”
“You’ve had ten years under my wing to know me by now—I always find out.” Raphael said. “You’ve been using the inferno I taught you to broker some kind of bargain with with the arch-devil. You’ve been exceedingly naughty not telling Father Dearest you’ve been dabbling in the Hells and you know what happens to naughty boys.”
Enver swallowed something thick in his throat. He shouldn’t have sent Karlach away. He froze in his chair as Raphael stood. The devil moved the desk between them to the far wall with snap of his fingers. He came to stand in front of Enver, the stink of cherries and sulfur brushed Enver’s nose as the warmth of Avernus made sweat pearl on his skin. Raphael had a predator blank stare as he stripped Enver bare with his gaze.
“Now, tell Father Dearest why you’ve been speaking with Zariel.”
“Raphael—“
“Father Dearest.”
“Father Dearest, it’s not what you think. I assure you.”
“You don’t know the half of what I think, especially about you, child.” Raphael said. “You were always the cleverest of my wards. It’s a shame you amounted to so little in the end. Have you learned nothing from me?”
Raphael raised his hand and Enver screwed his eyes shut, bracing himself for the hard slap. Instead, Raphael’s warm fingers graced his jaw like rose petals. Enver opened his eyes to watch the devil looking down at him fondly, his soft hand stroking his cheek, his thumb sliding across Enver’s dry lips. Raphael looked like he was in love—or his own twisted version of it. If this was love, Enver doesn’t want a part of it.
“I should put you over my knee, but instead, I will give you the opportunity to redeem yourself. I expect your apology to be very decadent.” Raphael said. He curled his fingers in Enver’s hair and pulled gently. Enver got the idea and stood. He took a shuddery breath. Sometimes, as punishment—penance, Raphael would make him cut or flog himself. If Raphael wasn’t satisfied with Enver’s self torture, the devil would do it himself and far worse. Enver still bore the fruit rotten bruises of a flail. He’s missing a couple of teeth. His body ached when it became cold due to broken bones that will never truly heal. What would it be tonight? Enver swallowed. Maybe he could guide the outcome—Raphael craves sex almost more than power and control.
Enver stepped close. The devil smiled.
“Father Dearest.” Enver began as he played with the golden button on Raphael’s shirt. “I am the very picture of remorse. I should have told you because you only want what’s best for me. The deal with Zariel is naught but a simple trade. You needn’t worry about it.”
“Needn’t I?” Raphael asked as he placed his hand on Enver’s lower back and pulled him closer. Enver shook his head before tucking his fingers in Raphael’s belt, asking for permission. Raphael nodded and Enver slipped the belt off. He placed it on the chair behind him before slipping his hand in Raphael’s trousers. The devil’s cock was hard in his hand as he stroked it as much as he could within the confines of Raphael’s pants. Raphael’s breath deepened before he claimed Enver’s mouth. He tasted of a deep, rich wine as their tongues touch. He drank Enver down with a softness of a wedding night kiss. The tenderness made Enver’s stomach ache, especially since he knows what was coming after. They pull apart when they need to breathe.
“Unburden yourself.” Raphael said. He was not asking for a confession like a priest, but for Enver to remove his clothes—Raphael always made those two things sound the same. The devil expected Enver to worship him with his body. To never deny him. Enver tried to keep his hand from shaking as he removed his tunic, gently folding it over the chair with Raphael’s belt, before removing his pants. He stood naked before Raphael, like a sacrifice—a true believer, a good son. Raphael ran his finger up Enver’s side. Enver stopped himself from squirming at the touch. “Now, place yourself on the table for Father Dearest.”
Enver sat on his desk, amongst his important papers—its contents could make prince paupers and destroy lives. Enver had become a formidable Counsellor in Baldur’s Gate. He could take problems away with a nod and a wave, or he could make them worse with a turn of phrase, but no matter how much power he collected, Raphael still stripped him naked with a few words.
Enver’s ultimate goal was to become powerful enough to resist the devil. To be free of him. To kill him. Isn’t that the fate of all parents? To be outlived and replaced by their children? The parents are the first jailers, and they must die for the child to be free. He will kill Raphael when he’s not small and weak anymore. Obviously, he wasn’t there yet.
Raphael knocked his knees apart before sliding between them, the devil’s coarse trousers scratching between Enver’s soft thighs. Raphael placed his hand in the middle of Enver’s chest and pushed. Enver scooted down the desk until he’s almost laying on it. Raphael put Enver’s ankles were over the devil’s shoulders, holding Enver open for his purposes. Enver’s body creaked—he was no longer the flexible, young child Raphael used to fuck in Avernus. He was a man, who should be untouchable, or too grotesque for Raphael to want, but it was never about being wanted—it was about control and absolute domination over Enver. Raphael fucked him because no one could stop him—not even Enver. That is true power. Enver will have it one day.
Raphael dug into his pocket and pulled out a vial of pink oil. He popped out the cork—the scent of roses wafted through the damp air. It was almost enough to make Enver vomit. Raphael had used the same type of oil to take him for years. It’s the reason why roses make Enver sick to his stomach or aroused, depending on the day. Still, he shouldn’t complain. At least Raphael was using some kind of lubricant.
Raphael unbuttoned his pants and pushed them and his underwear to his knees. He stroked his hard length, getting it shiny and dripping with the oil. Enver took a deep breath; his cock was hard against his stomach.
The devil held the base of his own cock and pushed the tip into Enver. Enver gasped into the silent room. It always felt too big and painful to take at first—it had been a while since Raphael had done this to him. Enver squeezed the end of his desk as the devil seated himself fully inside him. Enver bit his lips, trying to get adjusted to how deep Raphael was inside him. He could almost feel it in his stomach. He curled his toes as Raphael sighed, threading his fingers through Enver’s hair with one hand, and holding the top of Enver’s thigh with the other.
“Aren’t you a sight?” Raphael asked before he set a leisurely rhythm, pushing in and pulling out slowly, savoring him, Enver’s breath catching. “Watching myself take you has never lost its luster.”
Enver groaned as Raphael fucked against that bundle of nerves inside him. Enver’s cock made a mess against his own stomach as Raphael took him.
“I can fuck the prettiest sounds out of you.” Raphael said. “My boy, look how you’ve grown. You don’t even complain anymore when I take you.”
“Raphael.” Enver sighed out as the devil hit his prostate again.
“Father Dearest.” Raphael picked up speed and force, the table scraping against the floor under them. Enver moaned every time Raphael forced himself inside him, the devil’s fingernails leaving red crescent moons into the pale skin of Enver’s thigh. Enver clenched his eyes closed, fireworks bloom and fade behind the curtain of his eyelids when Raphael thrusted inside him.
Enver flushed hot, the warmth of their breath fogging the windows of his office and the slapping noise of skin meeting skin drowned out the rain. Raphael slid into him easier now, still the delicious friction caused Enver’s eyes to flutter closed.
“Oh, how I’ve missed this.” Raphael sighed out. “You think you’re too old for daddy to punish you. Well, you’re wrong. You need reining in. You’ve seemed to have forgotten your place and who you belong to. Let this serve as a gentle reminder. Now, open your mouth.”
Enver’s lips fall open as if enchanted. Raphael sticks his middle and index finger into Enver’s mouth, tucking them in deep—the devil’s skin salty with sweat. Enver swallowed and groaned around them as Raphael picked up the pace, screwing into him harder.
“You are so very beautiful, in your own ruined way.” Raphael said, taking his fingers out of Enver’s mouth and sucking them in his own before speaking. “I look at you and see my handiwork. The Flymms may have borne you, but I created you. I carved my name deep inside you. You’ll never be rid of me. Find comfort in that—that I will never abandon you, that we’ll be together forever.”
Enver couldn’t. He didn’t want to, so he just cupped Raphael’s nape and pulled him until he was consumed by a kiss. Raphael’s rhythm falters as he slides deep into Enver, gasping against his lips.
Enver felt a pressure build up in him, he was getting close. He reached down to stroke his own arousal in time with Raphael’s thrusts. He was loud, his groans bouncing off the walls of his office. His papers were soggy from sweat under him. He felt like a fire was blazing under his skin. He was so close to coming, just a few more thrust…but he could be punished if he came without Raphael’s permission.
“Can I,” Enver began. “May I…”
“Yes? Tell Father Dearest what you want.”
“I want, I need to finish, please.” Enver gasped out; Raphael never stopped fucking him.
“Not yet, my boy, not yet.” Raphael said with a smirk, hitting his prostate with every hard thrust. Enver screwed his eyes shut, squeezed the end of the table, curled his toes in an effort to stop himself from coming. He bit his lips as Raphael moved his hands to Enver’s hips to hold him still while he pounded into him. He must be close as well—aside from his taunting monologue when he fucked Enver, he was almost awkwardly quiet, so the only way Enver could tell was close was when Raphael fucked him harder.
The devil stilled, hilt deep, coming inside Enver with a sigh. Enver’s thighs shook as he tried to hold on. He felt as if he were going to explode. He was slick with sweat as Raphael kept him on the edge. He needed to come.
“Father Dearest, please.” Enver begged quietly. He felt sharp pain as he tried to hold it in. His eyes itched with tears. Raphael leaned down and pressed a hard kiss to his lips, swallowing Enver’s pleas. He pulled back an inch before speaking.
“Yes, my precious boy. Come for daddy.”
Enver cried out as he spilled over his abdomen. Raphael tortured his prostate by fucking him as he came. Enver’s breath was shaking as he came down, feeling heavy and satisfied. While Enver had no choice in whether Raphael fucked him or not, at least the devil was a good lover.
Raphael pulled out, leaving Enver open and winching. Enver’s stomach turned at the sticky mess inside him. He needs a bath—his house was across the city, so he’ll have to don his clothes and travel there filled with the devil’s come. How pathetic.
Raphael pulled up his pants and adjusted his clothes until he was pristine again. He smiled at Enver as Enver sat up on the desk.
“Now about Zariel,” Raphael began. “What is your bargain with her?”
“I’m selling her the tiefling.” Enver said lowly.
“Why?”
“As an experiment.”
“In cruelty?”
“Possibly.” Enver said. He forwent telling Raphael about the infernal engine the arch-devil Zariel had fashioned to try on his Karlach, or him waiting to see if the tiefling would survive it. The plan is to create inferno automatons based on the data and machinery Enver receives from Zariel after her experiment on Karlach. The tiefling will probably survive it. She’s strong. He’s looking forward to finding out. “I was offered a grand sum of gold for this deal.”
“You rotten, rotten boy.” Raphael chuckled before smirking. “I assume Karlach knows none of this?”
Enver nodded. He got off the table, feeling slick and dirty on his insides as he pulled on his pants, ignoring the sharp sting of pain in his backside. He reached in the desk drawer for his bottle of wine. He then picked up his silver goblet off the floor before bleeding the wine in it and taking a sip. It did little to calm his nerves.
“I suppose it serves her right for trusting the likes of you.” Raphael said. Enver took a deep breath, his stomach sinking with something akin to guilt. He drowned the feeling in wine. How ‘guilty’ did his parents feel when they sold him to a devil disguised as warlock? How ‘guilty’ did Raphael feel when he tortured Enver or raped him? How ‘guilty’ did the city feel when it swallowed Enver whole? They feel nothing—they don’t get bogged down in childish morals and look at the power they wield because of it.
Karlach’s freedom will be traded for a good cause. His dream to protect Baldur’s Gate will be manifested in his Steel Watchers. The tiefling should be proud. She will be the godmother of the city. He couldn’t think of a better epitaph for her.
“I suppose it does.” Enver took another drink of wine. “Now, if that’s all, I would like to go home.”
“You’re dismissed.” Raphael said as Enver pulled on his shirt. Enver finished his goblet of wine and placed it on the table. He headed toward his office door before Raphael cleared his throat. Enver’s shoulders lowered. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”
Enver turned before walking to the devil. He placed his lips against the sharp cut of Raphael’s cheekbones. He felt the devil smile before he pulled back.
“Good boy.”