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Beelzebub looked down into the pool of light for the first time in centuries, his red hair gleaming in his reflection. It was vast and bright, illuminating the dome that housed it.
“You came,” a plural voice echoed in the cavernous chamber from behind him. The voice’s source whirled around to face him, golden tendrils dancing around their face. The Metatron. The Voice of God.
“You doubted I would.” Beelzebub understood the Metatron’s doubts. A demon, returning to Heaven for their cycle? Beelzebub couldn’t imagine any other demons would try, except maybe that stupid bugger Crowley. He clearly had some sort of bond with that prissy blond angel at the airbase. But in his weakened state, he couldn’t decline.
“We were…uncertain. It felt unpleasant. But we are pleased you accepted our invitation." The Metatron ogled Beelzebub’s naked form. As a supernatural being, Beelzebub wore no clothes, but under the alpha angel’s golden gaze, he wished for such a shield. “Even in our brief encounter on Earth, we could tell you were weakening.”
Beelzebub nodded. He’d sensed the cyclical waning of his life force before Armageddon, but hadn’t had time for renewal before the Great Battle that wasn’t. And since then, he’d weakened further, but his only source for relief was unavailable. “Normally my Lord would tend to me, but he’zzz in no state for it now.” Lucifer was the only alpha demon, spending most of his time refilling omegas with life force in his infernal pool, which looked much like this one, but burned a hotter, more furious red. Heaven’s was cool in comparison, a nearly white light from a source more infinite than Lucifer. Would it still soothe Beelzebub, as it had Before, or would it burn him now that he had Fallen?
“Still processing his child’s betrayal? We would know nothing about such pain,” the Metatron said flatly, taking Beelzebub’s hand. “But no matter. We’re here, omega, and we shall tend to you.” The Metatron’s voice jolted Beelzebub to the very core, filling him with anticipation and desire.
“Are you sure I can…it won’t harm me? This light?”
The Metatron shook their head. “We do not believe so. Bend down and touch it. See for yourself.”
Beelzebub followed the order. Any rebellious spirit in him was drowned out by his pain, his weakness, his need to feel the light. Sure enough, it slipped through his fingers harmlessly. “It seemzzzz alright.”
“Good. We thought so. Now get in, omega. Make yourself comfortable.”
Beelzebub slipped into the pool, his weakened column of light sinking below the surface. The cool light soothed his cracked surface, but it wouldn’t restore his life force without an alpha’s touch. Without the Metatron’s touch.
“Ahh, my omega. You look much brighter already.” The Metatron smoothly glided into the pool. The light flowed into their hair, adorning it with starlike glimmers of power. As an alpha in proximity to an omega in need, they would be able to absorb a large surplus of energy to give Beelzebub. “Lie back and let us see you.”
Beelzebub lay on the surface of the pool, letting the light wash over him. The Metatron started by touching Beelzebub’s head, weaving pinpricks of light into his red hair. Then their hand grazed Beelzebub’s face, followed by their lips. The Metatron’s kiss was hotter than the light of the pool, warmed by their own essence. It made Beelzebub sob in relief, pinpricks of light flowing from him like tears.
“Better already, omega?” the Metatron said, lowering their plural voice to something approaching a whisper. Beelzebub whimpered and nodded slightly, unable to form words. “Good.” The Metatron slid their golden hand down Beelzebub’s bare chest until they reached the base of his life force column, now just a weak trickle of light. “Now, our sweet Prince of Hell, close your eyes and relax so that we may enter you.”
Beelzebub did so, imagining himself as a perfect empty vessel, a hollow being to be filled with an alpha’s light. His old, spent life force drained out of him, but the Metatron’s flooded in to replace it, bringing warmth and vigor. This was the energy that fueled Heavenly armies. By all rights, it should be poison to Beelzebub. Instead, he felt whole and flawless again, floating in Heaven’s ineffable light.
The Metatron hummed, pressing deep inside Beelzebub, finding all his empty spots and refilling them with light. They had no reason to rush, no other demons to tend to. Their only purpose was to renew Beelzebub’s energy, and his in turn was only to receive it in waves of mutual ecstasy.