Posted: May 2004
Title: Salt Flats
Author: Helena Snow-Renn
Fandom: Prophecy
Type: FCS
Characters: Cowboy/Lucifer
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: As always, this is fiction. It never happened.
Warnings: AU, a bit of non-con, religious overtones, implied incest.
Summary: Cowboy and Lucifer meet up in the desert.
Author's Note: "Big Empty" spoilers, in a way, but this is my own twist to something that is really never explained. You know Viggo played Lucifer in "The Prophecy," right? … and a little tip of my hat to Saira and Fin for the song idea.

*****

It was true, that it got freezing cold in the desert at night. And it was black out there, absolutely lightless. Blacker than outer space. Blacker than hell.

Cowboy's time on the planet called Earth, Gaia, was only beginning. Too many lost souls called from that place way out in the back of beyond, farther from Heaven that any other life-bearing world, cried out to be rescued. They called, but they sometimes needed to be convinced. Round ‘ em up: that was his job, his personal calling.

The ship hovered for a full two minutes, its capacitors powering up, then leaped away into the recesses of the cosmos. There went another dozen humans Cowboy would never see again. He felt strangely joyful for them, that they would get into heaven before all hell broke loose. Lucky them, those chosen ones. He had to earn every cent of his redemption.

There were other forces at work in the universe besides the one he was aligned with. In fact, he knew intimately, in every sense of the word, just what his side was up against. If Cowboy managed to snatch one life out of every five that keened for deliverance before Lucifer and his legions did, then he considered his job well done. But then, Lucifer had never played by the book. He broke all the rules, wrote his own, and then broke them, too.

When they unsuspectingly asked him what he was and he replied, ‘the devil's out-of-wedlock,' he wasn't kidding. So far, he hadn't met up with his adversary on this plane, but he could see its insidious handiwork everywhere. It had nothing to do with what these humans called "sin," or if so, only in the fact that it was inborn in them. It was evident in how so many of them were so careless and slipshod in the way they treated their world, their fellows, themselves. One of these days though, he knew, the master of the underworld would seek him out. The creature that spawned him was a jealous lover.

Despite leather clothing he'd adopted to keep him alternately warm and cool in opposition of the weather patterns that ravaged this stop-off place, he was cold. His body closely resembled that of a human male's with all of its pitfalls, delights, and needs. Conversely, his instincts and abilities far outstripped your average man. In fact, he had had to learn quickly to hide them. Move too stealthily or too quickly, people got suspicious. Hell, they did anyway. He carried just enough ‘different' that most were afraid of him on sight. Well, not that last batch. They'd all been fearless, unwavering. If any collective had ever had such a strong will, he didn't know when. Sign of the times.

Cowboy had almost finished taking care of one distinctly human function when the fine blond hairs on the back of his neck and arms prickled. He'd know that feeling anywhere. His senses went into hyperdrive, trying to pinpoint his enemy's location before it could pounce on him, unseen. The steaming puddle before him masked any scent, but there was nothing wrong with his hearing. Out there on the flats, sound carried for miles if the wind was right. Yes, there. It was sitting just above him, on top of the R.V. It was too late now for escape. He'd just have to feed it, make it sluggish in its glut so he could escape and outrun it till next time. In this primitive campground of a world, slowed by a flesh-heavy, unwinged body, that was the only way.

"Greetings, Lucifer," Cowboy said in a cool but resigned voice, staring up at him.

The other hissed. So did the scabby little pet clinging to its arm. "Well, well, well… we meet again, my son," cackled the demon.

"Yes," Cowboy acknowledged tersely. He just wanted this over as quickly as possible. "What's it gonna be... The usual?"

Crawling serpentine over the roof of the bus, face first, Lucifer replied, "No… I was thinking I might like to try something different. So tell me. Do you give one hell of a good hummer?"

"Right to the point, aren't you?"

"Why be any other way?" The demon's icy blue eyes twinkled; even when they glowed in the dark, they twinkled.

Cowboy backed away slowly as Lucifer neared the ground. "Oh, you know. A little foreplay is always nice. This body I got ain't getting any younger." He was actually rather happy with the one he was possessed of this trip. In the eyes of most humans, it was reasonably intimidating, reasonably good-looking, halfway between young and middle-aged. But one didn't go letting Lucifer know such things, or they were liable to end up scarred, if not worse.

"You still have time to change that," purred a deadly voice in his ear. The demon had gotten behind him undetected. "You should join my little army. The offer still stands, Vaquero. In time, you would be second only to me." Black, pointed fingernails slid over his shoulders, under his coat. When Lucifer moved unhurriedly, it felt like getting a slow coat of honey. The beast was as hot, temperature-wise, as his home. Cowboy shivered, for he hated this part but could not, would not resist. Not the physical part, not the sex, though he'd never give in to the offer of eternal damnation. He hadn't spent the last five hundred-odd years dimension-jumping only to fall to that, not when he was so close….

Lucifer knew his answer without being told. He turned his head away from Cowboy's ear and roared. Frustration and resignation were in it, as well as demand for payment. Cowboy's body responded, just as it had been trained to. That part of him would never go away, whatever form he took. Here, as a near-human, he felt the tell-tell signs. His internal four-chambered heart beat more rapidly, and harder. Likewise, his breathing quickened, pushing air in and out of his lungs faster till he began to feel light-headed. The appendage between his legs tingled, filled with rapidly circulating blood. Soon it would have to be touched, to be milked and its liquid seed released or it would get damn painful. While Cowboy didn't mind a little pain along with the aching pleasure necessary to accomplish this function, Lucifer had no restraint in the matter any more than in any other matter.

Ah, yes, he remembered. It was called a penis, though like most of the baser things in life, humankind had invented several hundred more colorful and deviant names for it. Lucifer was equipped with one of these members too, for his stints on earth. It pressed hard against Cowboy's rounded, muscular buttocks. The long-clawed hand of the being behind him slid down into the front of his black leather pants. It wrapped around his long cock, moving up and down while he drowned in waves of hideous craving. Buttons popped as the cursing demon struggled for more room. Lucifer's tongue twitched over the skin of his neck, into his ear, over his jaw.

Cowboy's whole body started to itch. He knew what that meant. So did Lucifer. The demon's other hand had worked or broken open all the fastenings on his front and exposed him to the night air. The smear of moisture on the tip of his cock felt minty as a slight breeze kissed it. Lucifer, never one for manners at any time, drooled rivulets of saliva down Cowboy's smooth chest and stomach, and soon he was using it to assist in his ministrations.

Something else, those, the pair of them, properly called testes or more commonly balls, hanging in their sac felt like lead. It had been weeks since the last payment had been extracted; the hooker at the hotel had been fine for playing with but she couldn't handle him, not what like would happen here. Cowboy knew how very full he was now. He wished he hadn't thought of it because the second black-nailed hand was now rolling his balls perfectly, just roughly enough that he couldn't come yet. If he tried they'd be forced back down and that would hurt more.

"Oh, you do want it, don't you, little bitch?" asked the devil. "You just want to let go that precious seed of yours for me, don't you?"

Disgusted by the act or not, Cowboy would not deny how wonderful his whole body felt; it was shaking in anticipation. He was kept there for what seemed an age. The hand wrapped around his saliva-slicked cock gripped harder, pulled faster; the hell-hot skin warmed him, and he leaned back into Lucifer. The angle had knocked the Stetson hat from his head, leaving his sweaty hair to be ruffled by the torrid breathing of the creature holding him up. Every stroke blazed into Cowboy's overwrought nerves.

"Feed my minions," whispered Lucifer against his collarbone.

He swore in five languages when the fallen angel let him release.

An arc of silver cum sprang forth, then more, one after the other. The Devil bit into Cowboy's neck, heightening the intensity and making him spray forth even harder. Those tough hands worked without mercy now, one upon his shaft, the other squeezing, kneading, milking his contracted testicles within their sacs. "More," hissed Lucifer, growling low in his chest. Cowboy provided. Ungodly demonic things swam and dove in mid-air, mostly invisible; some were heinous beyond words, some sleek and sinuous, all were pure evil. They fought over Cowboy's airborne seed. Not a drop hit the ground. Lucifer took the last himself. He raised his hand to black lips and tasted. " Hmmmm," he moaned lewdly. And he licked his hand clean.

Cowboy had been swaying on his feet; up till now Lucifer supported him. No longer. The imp took two steps back and shoved Cowboy, who dropped to his knees, panting. Again, Lucifer moved preternaturally. He was naked except for the black cape that billowed around him. The horn of Hell was there, right before his eyes now. Even that was unearthly large, bright red, throbbing like a heart. "You know what to do," grated the demon in his harsh, mocking voice. "Go on; suck me. Oh, yeah…"

Cowboy really hated this part. He closed his eyes in hopes of blocking some of it out. The wet tip of Lucifer's phallus prodded against his lips. "Open," screeched the demon, like some maniacal dentist. Clawed hands twisted into his hair and he gasped. The wide cockhead and more pushed past the barrier of his parted lips. He was forced to take it all, the hard head hitting his throat and sliding down the back. Cowboy was convinced Lucifer's organ really was made of rock; it was always unnaturally hard. It didn't even feel like skin. One of these years, Cowboy thought, he was going to use his teeth and see if it could even be damaged. But not today. Tonight, he let the terrifying being rabidly fuck his face. All part of the job, he told himself.

"Oh, fuck, you're good," Lucifer breathed. His long, swept-back brown hair hung messily down his back and strands of it lay lank over his face. Presently, "That woman, she hummed. Now you hum."

The hooker had hummed in a monotone, something Cowboy found felt good around his cock but did nothing for his aural enjoyment. He strove to find a tune to take him away from this. He remembered one, as if from another life, which is probably was, something about not being perfect, and having a reason. He did have a reason for this. He had to remember that. He did. He had to. Salvation. It was all about salvation. Something only paid for by this dirty act with the one who could ruin it all.

Another hundred seconds, hours, weeks, Cowboy couldn't tell anymore. He hummed on and on with tears running down his cheeks, barely able to breathe while getting slammed forcefully down his throat. It was nearing the end, though; he recognized the signs. Lucifer was growling like a werewolf. His ropy hips bucked. Cowboy put his hands up to them to dampen the force but Lucifer swatted them back. "Don't touch me… you don't touch me. I touch you!" he snapped.

With that, he threw back his head and howled to the sky, and ear-splitting yowl that, on some level, shattered the sound barrier. A jet of swamp-tasting cum flowed into Cowboy's ravaged mouth. He only had to swallow once for the deal to be legally binding. The rest of the free-flowing jizz he spat onto the thirsty desert floor, which sucked it up immediately. The ground cracked around it.

Lucifer, still cumming and likely to for another fifteen minutes, leered at Cowboy. "Well, pardner… The legalese is taken care of. How ‘bout some fun?" His hard, shiny organ oozed a steady trickle of dark liquid onto the sand between his bare feet. "You know once is never enough to get me off." He wrapped his clawed digits around the dripping cock and waggled it at Cowboy.

"No, Lucifer, not this time."

"What, no desserts? Just deserts? Ha ha… get it? Deserts… desserts…." Lucifer laughed at his own lame joke as if he wasn't still leaking cum like a dog.

"Woof," he said dangerously, angrily, reading Cowboy's mind again.

"Come on, boy. Get over here. You know you want it, don't you? Just want me to fuck you. Come on… you can never say no."

Cowboy looked up at the naked, well-proportioned outward appearance. He'd seen him in every form he'd ever been in himself, as well as his real, petrifying, stinking hell-bound one, a combination of snake, spider, and bat. How he found the evil spirit appealing now, as a tall, mannish-looking, bearded, dark-haired, fanged and clawed but still handsome one… that was the drawing power of Hell. Cowboy considered himself lucky the only real sway Lucifer held over him any more was in his mating urges. He was, after all, part incubus. Just like his father. That might be a source of minor anguish for him now, for while it lasted he could have no other; it would not last forever, so long as the hold only went that deep. It was only a weakness of his body, not his soul. That, he had committed to his mission.

So he turned and bent before the beast, allowing himself to be taken, for the large and swollen-hard appendage to go in, up into his most secret parts, to pump over and over into him while it continued to weep continuously. Those claws tore and scraped him. His nipples were pinched till they bled, his hips carried four puncture marks each before it was done. The beast shot him so full of its foaming, bubbling sperm he felt bloated and full, and soon it trickled down his legs to form new puddles around his boots. All the while, it snuffled and growled to itself, taking its pleasure the only way it could.

His hands, flat against his shiny metal bus, held him up under the violent assault. He wasn't hurt though, had been through this too many times; it was impossible to hurt him by this means, in fact. Soon Lucifer would tire of him, because of this same fact. It was something they both knew. The terror inspired in one's mind by the source of all evil was not enough; there had to be physical suffering, as well. Cowboy's days for that were over near over. This time, as never before, he allowed himself to relax, to acquiesce, to enjoy the rutting and the rasp of that hard organ over the spot Y****H had allowed human males, that he had too, the center of pleasure.

"Oh, shit, that feels good," he heard himself gasp. Lucifer growled; his cock gushed anew, cum flooding out of Cowboy down to the thirsty ground. "Oh, God!" Cowboy screamed and reached down between his legs to intensify his own climax. He came in his hand, silvery cream that was soon licked away by the demon's unnatural tongue. "Oh, god," he moaned again. "Fuck…!"

"Shut the fuck up!" spat Lucifer, suddenly backing away into the darkness. "Do not say that name in my presence!"

"Get the hell out of here would you?" returned Cowboy. "A deal's a deal. That last group is bought and paid for." He felt strong, rather than frail and drained like every time before.

With a hiss, a final swirl of his cape, the devil was gone. It was almost as if he'd never been there at all, the darkness and silence was so complete all around. Only the residual itch-tickle of his body recalled the encounter.

"Not even a kiss." Such it was, when you dealt with a clashing of two powerful forces and were stuck in the middle.

Whether it was really worth it or not, Cowboy would never know. He'd never have the opportunity to know otherwise. Whether in this life, or the next or the next, the blood that ran in his veins would be atoned for. He was making sure, here, now, that this was only temporary. Someday he was going to heaven, too, even if he had to go through hell out here on the salt flats each equinox and solstice to get there.

He mounted his big, shiny bus and rode off into nowhere.

*****

THE END

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