FIC: Late Bloomer - Hellboy, Hellboy/John, NC-17, 1/1
Title: Late Bloomer
Author: Lakhesis
Pairing: Hellboy/John
Rating: NC-17
Beta: Sterling Dragonfly
Summary: The invocation of Hellboy’s true name caused a longer-lasting side effect than anyone could have expected… sexual maturity.
Warnings: Graphic sex… I’m not kidding about the NC-17. Human/Demon graphic sex. PWP for the most part.
Disclaimer: Based on the Hellboy movie-verse. This is crack-fic, totally unrelated to anything official or worthy. I have no excuse except I’ve seen it on reruns one too many times lately.
***
With the death of Professor Broom, John Myers had found himself experiencing a change in his duties at the Bureau of Paranormal Research and Defense. The transition from caretaker and errand boy to ‘the Professor’s handpicked successor’ had occurred without notice and completely unofficially.
As he found himself being asked questions he couldn’t answer, John turned to the late Professor’s office and research. Soon it was a regular and expected sight for him to be at Broom’s desk, conversing with Abe in his tank. Having graduated top of his class both at college and with the FBI, he found this little different than any other necessary schooling.
It wasn’t until he noticed that Manning had reassigned his office to a new recruit that John even became aware of how he was being considered.
***
Abe floated in his tank as John deposited an egg in the transfer device. While his nose still wrinkled at the smell, he was no longer in shock at the ‘creature’s’ mere presence. Abe had been listening as the young man verbally puzzled out where the Professor’s missing journals and texts had gone.
They both turned at the sound of furious footsteps as their resident pyrokinetic entered the room. Their greetings went unreturned as she strode up to John and slapped him with resounding force. He cradled his cheek and she left as abruptly as she’d arrived.
Turning to his blue-skinned colleague, John asked in the tones of a lost little boy, “What just happened here?”
Abe’s head cocked to the side as he moved two feet to the left. “I believe Elizabeth has just slapped you.”
John took his hand away from his face. “That,” a stretch of the jaw and pained grimace to accompany it, “I definitely got. But why?”
“I do not know,” Abe replied unhelpfully.
John sighed, knowing he’d have to go looking for answers. It was never uncomplicated when one worked here.
***
With the passage of a week, even Abe was beginning to lose his famous patience. Neither Liz nor Hellboy would speak to John. It was definitely impacting their work. A situation worsened by the agent’s growing exhaustion as he spent every available moment trying to determine the possible causes of their upset.
It was, perhaps, an invasion of privacy. Abe excused his own actions by reasoning that a continued lack of communication and cooperation would surely result in death. Possibly his own.
He returned, dazed, carrying the missing journals. John nearly leapt upon the texts when they were placed on his assumed desk.
“Where have these been?” he questioned, exasperated.
Abe remained standing, as was his habit, examining Myers from a new perspective. “Red had… borrowed… them.”
John’s head shot up. “He can’t do that without telling someone. I’ll have to talk to him.” Then, frowning, “If he’ll talk to me.”
Abe shifted uneasily, the action at odds with the Icthyo Sapiens’ usual poise. “About that.”
“Yeah?”
“I have discovered the cause of the… discomfort.”
John managed to find his youthful grin, even with the contrasting dark circles under his eyes. “That’s great! You know what’s wrong?”
“In a manner of speaking. The incident in Russia had a,” an uncertain pause, “side effect.”
“On Red?” John asked with a growing concern. “We have to help him!”
“I believe the condition to be permanent.”
The agent had begun to rise from his chair but dropped back at the last word. “Permanent?” A shadow crossed his face as he asked, “Is he?” but he was unable to manage anything further.
Abe waited in silence, his eye membranes nictating.
“What is it?” John finally asked softly.
“Puberty.”
John stared, dumbfounded for a moment, then scowled. “Dammit, Abe. This isn’t a joke.”
“I was not attempting to be humorous. Rasputin’s invocation of his true name has triggered Red’s sexual maturity.”
Considering it, John flushed a ruddy pink. “That would explain why Liz is worked up,” he finally mumbled. Then, trying to be professional, he asked, “The professor’s notes indicate that Hellboy’s nearly seventy. Isn’t this kinda late?”
Abe considered it. “Relatively, he is closer to you or Elizabeth in age. And,” he paused, “he is not human.”
John sighed heavily. This was not in the FBI recruitment brochure. He was certain no one had ever talked up the advantages of handling demon libidos.
“So,” he finally asked, “what do we know?”
Abe’s head inclined to the stack on the desk. “You should read the information they have referenced to date.”
***
John was not comfortable approaching Liz about her sex life, despite his early attraction to the dark-haired woman. Nevertheless, she was easier than contemplating this talk with Hellboy.
It wasn’t promising that Liz wouldn’t look at him when he entered the room. “Liz? Can I speak with you?”
No response. But then, she had also neither thrown him out nor set him on fire.
“Abe gave me the book you and Red have been researching from… about what’s going on.”
She was still silent.
“I’d like to help you, if I can.”
That produced a response. She turned, tossing her hair back to stare at him. “You want to help me?”
“Sure,” John said easily trying to look inoffensive and succeeding rather well. “I know Red is,” he paused. There had to be a polite way to phrase ‘probably hung like a horse.’ He finally continued with a light flush, “physically imposing. But you know he’d never hurt you.”
“Hurt me?” Liz asked with raw incredulity.
John rapidly decided to emphasize the advantages. “We know he’ll mate for life. The increased life span and the physical changes may be a result of… intimacy… but think what you could do with that kind of time ahead of you.”
Liz approached him, stopping toe to toe with her arms crossed. “You think I’m his mate.”
John nodded, wondering if he was about to immolated by a really pissed off woman. “Of course, he loves you.”
Her head tilted to the side. Her smirk was bitter rather than amused. “Did he? Or did he simply need a humanly acceptable place to channel his affection until a better option came along?”
John’s brow furrowed. “I don’t understand.”
She leaned in, whispering. “HB and I tell each other everything. I know whose name came from his lips during his first orgasm… and it wasn’t mine.”
John frowned. This certainly complicated matters. Not they’d have to track down some woman based on nothing more than a name uttered during an ejaculation. That wouldn’t be easy.
Liz chuckled, drawing John’s attention away from his self-imposed task. “I’ll get over it, John. The professor was right… I belong here.”
“Liz, I…”
“Do me a favor?”
“Of course.”
“Treat him well.”
“Uh, what?”
***
Abe stared in concern as John stumbled to a stop and practically fell into his chair. The good news was that the young man didn’t look crispy at the edges or even sunburnt. Unfortunately, even through the plexiglass of his tank, Abe could feel the jumbled emotions. Anxiety, elation, fear, guilty pleasure, all were being broadcast without restriction.
John shot an accusing glance towards the tank and Abe. “You knew. You knew and you let me make an ass of myself in front of Liz.”
“I saw,” Abe admitted. “Would you have believed me?”
John grumbled out a barely audible, “No.” Then, louder, he asked, “How did this happen?”
Though the question had been mostly rhetorical, Abe had an answer. “The connection empowers a member of a species he was born to conquer. It could only ever be someone with absolute loyalty to him.”
John sulked, barely resisting the urge to pout like a third grader. “Liz is loyal to him.”
“Yet you are the only one who is selflessly so,” Abe observed.
John scrubbed at his face with both hands before further mussing his already disheveled hair. “I,” he paused, “I have to talk to him.”
Abe made a noise that could have been agreement. Of course, it could have also expressed his ‘better you than me’ sentiment.
***
His nervous anticipation had led John to delay this as long as he’d felt capable. Even then, he’d practically exhausted himself in self-defense training before stopping in this corridor. Now, standing outside Hellboy’s quarters in a sweat damp track suit, he still couldn’t make himself knock on the door.
John admitted that he was pacing. It was four steps from the wall across the hall to the door. A turn and four steps back to the wall. Clay thought he was nuts. For once, the older agent’s opinion was barely on his horizon.
The door opened and John felt a piercing gaze on the back of his neck. He caught sight of Clay’s eyes widening in alarm just as a large hand gripped the back of his jacket and dragged him inside the quarters. The slamming of the door wasn’t comforting. Then again, neither was the cool air he could now feel against his t-shirt.
“Damn,” John cursed as he peeled the two halves of his former jacket down his arm. “I really liked that one too.”
Hellboy was scowling when John looked up. He quickly looked away, reacquainting himself with the number of cats in the room by visual survey. The delay proved to be only minorly effective as the demon sucked deeply on his cigar.
“You came here, Boyscout. Now, talk.”
John stammered for a moment before balling up the jacket halves and just dropping them on the floor. “Okay… Umm… Red, I’ve given this a lot of thought. I’m here to help you show Liz she’s wrong.”
Confusion on a seven foot tall demon’s face was only mildly amusing. And then, it was only if your circumstances allowed you to appreciate it. “Excuse me?”
Talking fast, John began to gesture and resumed his pacing as he outlined his thoughts. “I know that Rasputin caused some physical changes that no one quite anticipated. Clearly this has caused some confusion that I’d like to help straighten out.”
“Confusion.” Hellboy’s tail was lashing back and forth behind his body in a form and manner reminiscent of his cats when agitated.
“Yes. There’s been some mistake. I’m positive that all will be forgiven when you explain this to Liz.”
“Goddamnit!” Hellboy’s curse echoed as he turned away, stubbing out the cigar on the wall. He seemed to be speaking to a pale-eyed tabby sitting on a shelf as he had turned away completely from Myers. “I just get my head wrapped around this and he’s dumping me. Dumping me before I even have a chance to go say anything.”
“Uh…” John stammered as his demon - His demon? When had that happened? - echoed his pacing.
“No, you’re right. I’m not letting him get away with it.” Hellboy turned from the cat back to face Myers. He stepped right up to the smaller man, forcing John to tilt his head back to keep eye contact. “You don’t dump me… I dump you.”
“Uh…” John stammered again, seeking the thread of sense in the room. Maybe there wasn’t one? “I don’t think you understand what I was saying about a mistake.”
John raised his hand, about to lay it on the overly muscled chest in front of him. Perhaps he was hoping to encourage Hellboy to step back. Perhaps he simply wanted to know what that living, breathing surface felt like. He wasn’t sure, as his hand never made contact. A red tail darted forward, wrapping around his wrist in a prehensile grasp.
“Don’t touch me.”
The words were whisper soft, intent and serious. John flinched at the heavy emotion behind them. He yanked slightly, but couldn’t free his hand. The very tip end of the tail curled into his palm, tickling at the meaty flesh beneath his right thumb. It tickled, that’s what he told himself. It just tickled.
“Red?”
“Christ, Boyscout. Couldn’t you have taken a shower? You smell like…”
“I’m sorry. I was in a hurry to fix this. I didn’t mean to stink up your quarters.”
Hellboy fixed him with a stare that had him falling silent in his defensive explanation. John noticed that the demon’s eyes were dilated. Did cigars have that effect? Had he ever noticed this before?
“You don’t stink, Boyscout. You smell like… you.”
The last word had an unusual emphasis. John stared, swallowing heavily as Hellboy tilted his head and rotated it across his back. He inhaled deeply, his eyes locking back onto John’s as the agent locked down his rambling thoughts.
“You should leave now.” Hellboy’s voice was hoarse with an emphasis John had never heard before from him.
“I don’t understand.” John hesitated. Despite the instruction to leave, his right hand was still tight in the grip of that agile tail. The tip still teased at his palm. He was done trying to explain its smooth touch as anything other than arousing the hell out of him.
“The professor knew. After the first forty years, how couldn’t he? He didn’t think I’d ever ‘come online’ was his euphemism. Even so, he made sure I knew the meaning of rape.”
John flinched as Hellboy released his hand, backing up several feet and turning away. He wasn’t sure what to say, if there was anything he could or should say.
“Leave.”
Myers had never been all that good at obeying Hellboy’s commands. He hadn’t listened to the ones to stay behind, to leave him in danger, and he wasn’t listening to this one. “I’m trying to do what’s best for you, Red.”
A deep rumbling chuckle, then the faintest of words. “Then ain’t we the pair.”
John knew he wasn’t leaving. Not even if it meant that there was no mistake. He was afraid that too much hope showed in his voice as he finally echoed that thought. “She wasn’t mistaken, was she?”
Hellboy didn’t have to be told who he meant. “Liz didn’t deserve to be hurt by me.”
“No one is trying to hurt her.”
“If you don’t think it isn’t going to burn her inside to see us… Then you don’t know shit about women, Boyscout.”
John took a chance, forcing an obviously fake chuckle. “Maybe that’s why I’m gay.”
If Hellboy had been human, he’d have broken his own neck as fast as his head shot around. His heavy brow furrowed as he stared at the agent. “You hit on Liz…”
“I was trying to get her back here,” he explained. With only the wryest tilt of his lips, he added, “For you.”
Hellboy took a tentative step forward. “You’ve never smelled of another man.”
John flushed. “I’m an FBI agent. It’s not exactly safe for either my career or life to pursue relationships.”
“I won’t let them hurt you.” The deep growl of words burst between them.
John blinked, watching the possessive fury bloom and then pass. He wasn’t sure what to say. He wasn’t sure how to get this. He wasn’t even sure he was awake, this scenario usually relegated to the deepest depths of his fantasies.
Hellboy’s hesitation was gone. He stepped right into the negligible personal space of the young agent, bending his head until his nose was touching the indentation behind John’s jaw.
The deep inhalation caused John to emit an unmanly squeak. “Red?”
But there was nothing of the familiar left in the eyes that raised to his. Hellboy’s head tilted to the left and then the right. Just when John was nearly certain this was all a hallucination, the heavy stone hand settled above his shoulder with the fist to the wall.
“Last chance, Boyscout.”
Hellboy was sweating. John had never seen anything of the sort happen before, not from a demon immune to fire. There was perspiration beading of the visible portions of his skin. The customary black t-shirt was obviously damp in places.
“Last chance… to stay normal. Stay… and you’ll be just another freak.”
John frowned, too concerned with the pain behind those words to consider his own welfare. He didn’t even realize that these very actions were fulfilling the requirements. Conviction filled his voice as he stated firmly, “You’re not a freak.”
Hellboy chuckled, raising his relatively normal hand to the neck hem of his own shirt. With a barely resistant noise, it tore down the chest. He shrugged the pieces off, smirking slightly at John. Myers was no longer meeting his eyes. His attention was fully on the well-muscled surface before him.
Sure, he’d seen Hellboy shirtless before. Actually, considering some of the damage their opponents did to the demon’s clothes, he’d seen him pretty much nude. But that was somehow different. The intent had been lacking.
John had raised his hand again, seeking the contact that had been prevented before. This time he got it, palm flat against the smooth yet slightly tougher than expected torso. Of course it was tough, the damage he’d seen this… man… resist.
“Mine,” Hellboy growled when John finally touched him. It was the matter of seconds to lift the human and turn towards his sleeping area. John was disoriented, tossed over Hellboy’s shoulder with no fanfare or warning. Just as suddenly, he was let down.
The cats scattered around them as John bounced gently on the specialized mattress. His pupils were widely dilated. A touch of fear had tainted his scent, but nothing overwhelming. Watching as Hellboy impatiently stripped off his remaining clothing, tearing it in the process, John swallowed heavily.
“Oh, God,” he murmured as the nude man approached him. Hellboy was built on the lines of a god… or a demon. His skin was the familiar scarlet hue, except where it shaded to an almost deeper crimson near his groin and beneath his arms. His body was completely hairless and no scrotum hung beneath the heavily erect cock.
It twitched in John’s direction and he swallowed heavily. “Oh boy.”
John squirmed as the bed dipped beneath the weight of Hellboy’s knee. Very thankful for the roomy track pants, John felt his nipples perking up beneath the t-shirt he wore. He knew the sweat damp fabric hid nothing.
Hellboy chuckled in a throatily possessive manner as he leaned over John. He made no move to disrobe his human soon to be lover. He simply bent forward and buried his nose in the fabric tented by John’s erection. As Hellboy inhaled deeply of his mate’s scent, John cried out. His pants grew damp with his release and he flushed, embarrassed by the reaction.
The red eyes that lifted to meet his own were primitive and satisfied, smug with the recognition of what his presence was doing to his lover. Hellboy easily removed John’s clothing, ripping when something would have required them to part. Sparing a moment to wonder where he’d find the clothing to walk out of this room and not violate anyone’s sense of decency, John surrendered to what he knew his companion needed.
John’s only concession to a human’s need for intimacy was to remove the tie restraining Hellboy’s thick ink-black hair. It fell from the pseudo-samurai topknot to float in silky thickness around the demon’s shoulders. Reaching up, John sank his hands in that weight to his wrists and encouraged Hellboy to meet him.
They shared their first kiss. It was deceptively gentle, the undercurrent of need subsiding as they learned the taste and dimensions of lips, teeth, tongue. As in all things intimate that would occur between them, Hellboy was dominant. After permitting John his exploration, he possessed the human’s mouth and forced him to accept the depth of his plunder.
John gasped into the demon’s mouth as he recognized the caress at the base of his spine. Hellboy’s stone hand was planted above John’s head, supporting the significantly greater weight of the demon. His human hand cradled John’s skull like a fragile yet cherished object.
The caress, down his spine and slicking the length of his crease, was Hellboy’s tail.
John whimpered, sucking on the almost too hot tongue still occupying his mouth. He panted around Hellboy’s continuing kiss, shuddering as the tail flicked over his entrance once, twice, three times.
“Red, please,” he whimpered. “We need…”
Hellboy shifted, finally drawing his mouth away from John’s to leave a line of marks down his throat to his chest. The faint sucking bruises would fade relatively quickly, particularly once John’s change began. John blinked twice as a tube was pressed into his hand by Hellboy’s.
“Where did you…” The rest of his words came out in a high-pitched squeak as Hellboy bit a little harsher than gentle on his left nipple. “…get this?”
Switching to the matched neighbor, Hellboy assured himself that John’s arousal continued by bringing the other nipple to a matching peak. “Abe,” he murmured, tracking further down to the navel and swirling the heat of his tongue inside. “Gave me orders not to break you.”
John let his head fall back against the pillow and moaned as far greater than human warmth enveloped his rapidly re-hardening cock. He thrashed, thrusting as much as was permitted by Hellboy’s restraining hand against his hip. The insistent prodding of the tail, this time at the hand holding the tube of lubricant, renewed his flush and had him fumbling with the cap.
It was certainly an odd experience to be lubricating the end of Hellboy’s tail. John wasn’t entirely certain that the heat he thought he was feeling from the blowjob wasn’t spontaneous human combustion from embarrassment. For all his bravado, he’d had relatively few lovers. None that compared to Hellboy in emotion, connection, or admittedly - size.
“Oh, God,” John intoned again as Hellboy lifted him slightly by sliding his hand from his hip to his lower back. The position brought his cock fuller into the sauna wet heat of the demon’s mouth just as the tail inched into his hole.
It stilled there for a moment, barely inside, before pushing deeper. John panted, holding back the need to scream. He couldn’t remember how well these quarters were soundproofed. He certainly didn’t want Clay rushing in here in response to a scream just in time to witness Hellboy’s ravishment of him.
The flicking of Hellboy’s tail tip repeatedly over his prostate brought John’s attention back where it was supposed to be… on his lover. He grunted, coming again. The motions of Hellboy’s mouth were almost too much as the demon swallowed and lapped him clean.
John gave a sharp yank to the hair within his reach, urging Hellboy to give him a moment. His prick needed to recover, especially as the presence of the tail in his ass didn’t seem to be retreating. Hellboy raised himself only to lean in to whisper in John’s ear.
He nipped at the lobe sharply. John, recognizing the warning for what it was, released his grasp on the black hair between his fingers. They would have a working partnership and the changes would affect the field… but in the bedroom, Hellboy would always be in charge.
The puff of air that caressed his neck smelled faintly of John’s come. He found that almost too arousing a thought for someone who’d ejaculated twice in such a short time.
“You told Liz that I would never hurt my mate.”
John released the tube as Hellboy lifted it from his mostly limp hand. He was beyond anything but cooperation. He was limp from his release, sated with lust, relaxed with trust for his lover’s care.
“You were right, Boyscout.”
John blinked at Hellboy as the demon stared intensely into his eyes. He was shifted, legs spread wide and propped over thighs thick with muscle. His own muscles tensed and spasmed, splayed as they were. He could feel the tail ease from him, only to be replaced by the barely warmed end of the tube of lubricant.
There was the wet, squishy feel as the product was inserted directly into him from its container. John made a face, not liking the almost clinical application. Hellboy leaned into him, brushing their lips together gently as the tail returned.
It seemed thicker this time. John sucked in a breath as it pushed inside and he recognized what Hellboy must have done. His tail was doubled back on itself. Hellboy was using this most agile part of himself to stretch his human lover to his tolerance.
John writhed, on the edge of protesting due to his own sensitivity. He was too far gone to care that Hellboy’s expression only grew more determined, more possessive, as he observed the human beneath him.
Then, suddenly, they were inverted. John’s head spun as he was straddling red-hued hips, barely holding himself above the scarlet prick with the last of his strength. The tail wound back and forth across his back, the doubled tip still lodged in his ass. He was leaning, almost fully supported, on Hellboy’s upraised hand.
It was stunning, to stare down at his demon in the throes of lust. Hellboy was flushed, his scarlet skin turned crimson and shading to purpled hues of eggplant. John needed, more than just about anything, to see what those features looked like in orgasm.
He felt the tail moving out, slowly slipping from his body. It twisted against his back, the tip working at something. Dropping his head, John could just see that Hellboy was using the excess lubricant from his tail to coat his urgently needy cock. Then, with gravity and his own failing muscles, that girth was pressing against his entrance.
“Red… I… I…”
John whimpered, not able to express his own doubts as he was spread by the encroaching head of Hellboy’s prick. He wasn’t sure he wanted to stop. But, at the same time, he wasn’t sure he was capable of continuing.
“Shhh…” Hellboy crooned a reassuring syllable to him as if he was a startled feline. “Take me, Boyscout. Relax and take me.”
John swallowed, focusing on opening to the girth that felt like it was splitting him in two. He truly didn’t believe his body would yield, would even survive this couple. Suddenly, he felt the fool for having thought he could reassure Liz about Hellboy’s size.
But, just as suddenly, the contemplation of this demon with any other lover was enraging. John’s head lifted, his eyes locking with intent on the deeply burning gaze below him. Hellboy was grinning, nearly smirking with his satisfaction as John’s body accepted the head of his cock.
“That’s it,” the demon reassured. John sank in fits and spurts onto the thick shaft, his muscles failing him, the support of Hellboy’s hand and tail lowering him, gravity and his own desire conspiring to stretch his body.
“Ahhhh!”
John didn’t care who heard his scream, throwing his head back as his full weight settled across Hellboy’s hips. He could feel the cheeks of his ass, spread onto the demon’s groin and touching his thighs. He could feel the heat of the turgid prick sunk deep inside him. He could feel his own need reflected back at him from Hellboy himself.
Not recognizing the words coming from his own mouth, John babbled in a hoarse guttural tongue echoed back at him by Hellboy himself. The words were heavy with meaning, despite their immediate lack of translation.
Later, John’s mind promised as his body spasmed around the intruder. Holding Hellboy tight within him, John screamed again. Falling victim to the massaging pressure, Hellboy grunted and shifted infinitesimally deeper. He was buried within John’s body, cock spurting a heated release.
John wavered, staring unseeingly at the streaks of white ejaculate across Hellboy’s chest. He blinked, growing faint from his exertions and limp within the demon’s supporting grasp.
Hellboy eased him to the side, not allowing his cock to slip fully from the human’s body even as he withdrew far enough to nestle them face to face. His tail wound around John’s thighs, holding him tight as his lover rested within his arms.
“He’boy’?” John questioned, already slipping into a doze.
The contented smile that eased onto Hellboy’s usually stern and forbidding face was all the reassurance necessary. The demon caressed John’s lower lip with his thumb, appreciating the beauty of his mate.
“Rest, mine,” he rumbled, the sound echoing from his mouth and vibrating within his chest.
John sighed, shifting slightly and edging further into the support of Hellboy’s body. He dropped into an exhausted rest, never registering the faint knock on the door or Hellboy’s close scrutiny.
Finis
Author: Lakhesis
Pairing: Hellboy/John
Rating: NC-17
Beta: Sterling Dragonfly
Summary: The invocation of Hellboy’s true name caused a longer-lasting side effect than anyone could have expected… sexual maturity.
Warnings: Graphic sex… I’m not kidding about the NC-17. Human/Demon graphic sex. PWP for the most part.
Disclaimer: Based on the Hellboy movie-verse. This is crack-fic, totally unrelated to anything official or worthy. I have no excuse except I’ve seen it on reruns one too many times lately.
***
With the death of Professor Broom, John Myers had found himself experiencing a change in his duties at the Bureau of Paranormal Research and Defense. The transition from caretaker and errand boy to ‘the Professor’s handpicked successor’ had occurred without notice and completely unofficially.
As he found himself being asked questions he couldn’t answer, John turned to the late Professor’s office and research. Soon it was a regular and expected sight for him to be at Broom’s desk, conversing with Abe in his tank. Having graduated top of his class both at college and with the FBI, he found this little different than any other necessary schooling.
It wasn’t until he noticed that Manning had reassigned his office to a new recruit that John even became aware of how he was being considered.
***
Abe floated in his tank as John deposited an egg in the transfer device. While his nose still wrinkled at the smell, he was no longer in shock at the ‘creature’s’ mere presence. Abe had been listening as the young man verbally puzzled out where the Professor’s missing journals and texts had gone.
They both turned at the sound of furious footsteps as their resident pyrokinetic entered the room. Their greetings went unreturned as she strode up to John and slapped him with resounding force. He cradled his cheek and she left as abruptly as she’d arrived.
Turning to his blue-skinned colleague, John asked in the tones of a lost little boy, “What just happened here?”
Abe’s head cocked to the side as he moved two feet to the left. “I believe Elizabeth has just slapped you.”
John took his hand away from his face. “That,” a stretch of the jaw and pained grimace to accompany it, “I definitely got. But why?”
“I do not know,” Abe replied unhelpfully.
John sighed, knowing he’d have to go looking for answers. It was never uncomplicated when one worked here.
***
With the passage of a week, even Abe was beginning to lose his famous patience. Neither Liz nor Hellboy would speak to John. It was definitely impacting their work. A situation worsened by the agent’s growing exhaustion as he spent every available moment trying to determine the possible causes of their upset.
It was, perhaps, an invasion of privacy. Abe excused his own actions by reasoning that a continued lack of communication and cooperation would surely result in death. Possibly his own.
He returned, dazed, carrying the missing journals. John nearly leapt upon the texts when they were placed on his assumed desk.
“Where have these been?” he questioned, exasperated.
Abe remained standing, as was his habit, examining Myers from a new perspective. “Red had… borrowed… them.”
John’s head shot up. “He can’t do that without telling someone. I’ll have to talk to him.” Then, frowning, “If he’ll talk to me.”
Abe shifted uneasily, the action at odds with the Icthyo Sapiens’ usual poise. “About that.”
“Yeah?”
“I have discovered the cause of the… discomfort.”
John managed to find his youthful grin, even with the contrasting dark circles under his eyes. “That’s great! You know what’s wrong?”
“In a manner of speaking. The incident in Russia had a,” an uncertain pause, “side effect.”
“On Red?” John asked with a growing concern. “We have to help him!”
“I believe the condition to be permanent.”
The agent had begun to rise from his chair but dropped back at the last word. “Permanent?” A shadow crossed his face as he asked, “Is he?” but he was unable to manage anything further.
Abe waited in silence, his eye membranes nictating.
“What is it?” John finally asked softly.
“Puberty.”
John stared, dumbfounded for a moment, then scowled. “Dammit, Abe. This isn’t a joke.”
“I was not attempting to be humorous. Rasputin’s invocation of his true name has triggered Red’s sexual maturity.”
Considering it, John flushed a ruddy pink. “That would explain why Liz is worked up,” he finally mumbled. Then, trying to be professional, he asked, “The professor’s notes indicate that Hellboy’s nearly seventy. Isn’t this kinda late?”
Abe considered it. “Relatively, he is closer to you or Elizabeth in age. And,” he paused, “he is not human.”
John sighed heavily. This was not in the FBI recruitment brochure. He was certain no one had ever talked up the advantages of handling demon libidos.
“So,” he finally asked, “what do we know?”
Abe’s head inclined to the stack on the desk. “You should read the information they have referenced to date.”
***
John was not comfortable approaching Liz about her sex life, despite his early attraction to the dark-haired woman. Nevertheless, she was easier than contemplating this talk with Hellboy.
It wasn’t promising that Liz wouldn’t look at him when he entered the room. “Liz? Can I speak with you?”
No response. But then, she had also neither thrown him out nor set him on fire.
“Abe gave me the book you and Red have been researching from… about what’s going on.”
She was still silent.
“I’d like to help you, if I can.”
That produced a response. She turned, tossing her hair back to stare at him. “You want to help me?”
“Sure,” John said easily trying to look inoffensive and succeeding rather well. “I know Red is,” he paused. There had to be a polite way to phrase ‘probably hung like a horse.’ He finally continued with a light flush, “physically imposing. But you know he’d never hurt you.”
“Hurt me?” Liz asked with raw incredulity.
John rapidly decided to emphasize the advantages. “We know he’ll mate for life. The increased life span and the physical changes may be a result of… intimacy… but think what you could do with that kind of time ahead of you.”
Liz approached him, stopping toe to toe with her arms crossed. “You think I’m his mate.”
John nodded, wondering if he was about to immolated by a really pissed off woman. “Of course, he loves you.”
Her head tilted to the side. Her smirk was bitter rather than amused. “Did he? Or did he simply need a humanly acceptable place to channel his affection until a better option came along?”
John’s brow furrowed. “I don’t understand.”
She leaned in, whispering. “HB and I tell each other everything. I know whose name came from his lips during his first orgasm… and it wasn’t mine.”
John frowned. This certainly complicated matters. Not they’d have to track down some woman based on nothing more than a name uttered during an ejaculation. That wouldn’t be easy.
Liz chuckled, drawing John’s attention away from his self-imposed task. “I’ll get over it, John. The professor was right… I belong here.”
“Liz, I…”
“Do me a favor?”
“Of course.”
“Treat him well.”
“Uh, what?”
***
Abe stared in concern as John stumbled to a stop and practically fell into his chair. The good news was that the young man didn’t look crispy at the edges or even sunburnt. Unfortunately, even through the plexiglass of his tank, Abe could feel the jumbled emotions. Anxiety, elation, fear, guilty pleasure, all were being broadcast without restriction.
John shot an accusing glance towards the tank and Abe. “You knew. You knew and you let me make an ass of myself in front of Liz.”
“I saw,” Abe admitted. “Would you have believed me?”
John grumbled out a barely audible, “No.” Then, louder, he asked, “How did this happen?”
Though the question had been mostly rhetorical, Abe had an answer. “The connection empowers a member of a species he was born to conquer. It could only ever be someone with absolute loyalty to him.”
John sulked, barely resisting the urge to pout like a third grader. “Liz is loyal to him.”
“Yet you are the only one who is selflessly so,” Abe observed.
John scrubbed at his face with both hands before further mussing his already disheveled hair. “I,” he paused, “I have to talk to him.”
Abe made a noise that could have been agreement. Of course, it could have also expressed his ‘better you than me’ sentiment.
***
His nervous anticipation had led John to delay this as long as he’d felt capable. Even then, he’d practically exhausted himself in self-defense training before stopping in this corridor. Now, standing outside Hellboy’s quarters in a sweat damp track suit, he still couldn’t make himself knock on the door.
John admitted that he was pacing. It was four steps from the wall across the hall to the door. A turn and four steps back to the wall. Clay thought he was nuts. For once, the older agent’s opinion was barely on his horizon.
The door opened and John felt a piercing gaze on the back of his neck. He caught sight of Clay’s eyes widening in alarm just as a large hand gripped the back of his jacket and dragged him inside the quarters. The slamming of the door wasn’t comforting. Then again, neither was the cool air he could now feel against his t-shirt.
“Damn,” John cursed as he peeled the two halves of his former jacket down his arm. “I really liked that one too.”
Hellboy was scowling when John looked up. He quickly looked away, reacquainting himself with the number of cats in the room by visual survey. The delay proved to be only minorly effective as the demon sucked deeply on his cigar.
“You came here, Boyscout. Now, talk.”
John stammered for a moment before balling up the jacket halves and just dropping them on the floor. “Okay… Umm… Red, I’ve given this a lot of thought. I’m here to help you show Liz she’s wrong.”
Confusion on a seven foot tall demon’s face was only mildly amusing. And then, it was only if your circumstances allowed you to appreciate it. “Excuse me?”
Talking fast, John began to gesture and resumed his pacing as he outlined his thoughts. “I know that Rasputin caused some physical changes that no one quite anticipated. Clearly this has caused some confusion that I’d like to help straighten out.”
“Confusion.” Hellboy’s tail was lashing back and forth behind his body in a form and manner reminiscent of his cats when agitated.
“Yes. There’s been some mistake. I’m positive that all will be forgiven when you explain this to Liz.”
“Goddamnit!” Hellboy’s curse echoed as he turned away, stubbing out the cigar on the wall. He seemed to be speaking to a pale-eyed tabby sitting on a shelf as he had turned away completely from Myers. “I just get my head wrapped around this and he’s dumping me. Dumping me before I even have a chance to go say anything.”
“Uh…” John stammered as his demon - His demon? When had that happened? - echoed his pacing.
“No, you’re right. I’m not letting him get away with it.” Hellboy turned from the cat back to face Myers. He stepped right up to the smaller man, forcing John to tilt his head back to keep eye contact. “You don’t dump me… I dump you.”
“Uh…” John stammered again, seeking the thread of sense in the room. Maybe there wasn’t one? “I don’t think you understand what I was saying about a mistake.”
John raised his hand, about to lay it on the overly muscled chest in front of him. Perhaps he was hoping to encourage Hellboy to step back. Perhaps he simply wanted to know what that living, breathing surface felt like. He wasn’t sure, as his hand never made contact. A red tail darted forward, wrapping around his wrist in a prehensile grasp.
“Don’t touch me.”
The words were whisper soft, intent and serious. John flinched at the heavy emotion behind them. He yanked slightly, but couldn’t free his hand. The very tip end of the tail curled into his palm, tickling at the meaty flesh beneath his right thumb. It tickled, that’s what he told himself. It just tickled.
“Red?”
“Christ, Boyscout. Couldn’t you have taken a shower? You smell like…”
“I’m sorry. I was in a hurry to fix this. I didn’t mean to stink up your quarters.”
Hellboy fixed him with a stare that had him falling silent in his defensive explanation. John noticed that the demon’s eyes were dilated. Did cigars have that effect? Had he ever noticed this before?
“You don’t stink, Boyscout. You smell like… you.”
The last word had an unusual emphasis. John stared, swallowing heavily as Hellboy tilted his head and rotated it across his back. He inhaled deeply, his eyes locking back onto John’s as the agent locked down his rambling thoughts.
“You should leave now.” Hellboy’s voice was hoarse with an emphasis John had never heard before from him.
“I don’t understand.” John hesitated. Despite the instruction to leave, his right hand was still tight in the grip of that agile tail. The tip still teased at his palm. He was done trying to explain its smooth touch as anything other than arousing the hell out of him.
“The professor knew. After the first forty years, how couldn’t he? He didn’t think I’d ever ‘come online’ was his euphemism. Even so, he made sure I knew the meaning of rape.”
John flinched as Hellboy released his hand, backing up several feet and turning away. He wasn’t sure what to say, if there was anything he could or should say.
“Leave.”
Myers had never been all that good at obeying Hellboy’s commands. He hadn’t listened to the ones to stay behind, to leave him in danger, and he wasn’t listening to this one. “I’m trying to do what’s best for you, Red.”
A deep rumbling chuckle, then the faintest of words. “Then ain’t we the pair.”
John knew he wasn’t leaving. Not even if it meant that there was no mistake. He was afraid that too much hope showed in his voice as he finally echoed that thought. “She wasn’t mistaken, was she?”
Hellboy didn’t have to be told who he meant. “Liz didn’t deserve to be hurt by me.”
“No one is trying to hurt her.”
“If you don’t think it isn’t going to burn her inside to see us… Then you don’t know shit about women, Boyscout.”
John took a chance, forcing an obviously fake chuckle. “Maybe that’s why I’m gay.”
If Hellboy had been human, he’d have broken his own neck as fast as his head shot around. His heavy brow furrowed as he stared at the agent. “You hit on Liz…”
“I was trying to get her back here,” he explained. With only the wryest tilt of his lips, he added, “For you.”
Hellboy took a tentative step forward. “You’ve never smelled of another man.”
John flushed. “I’m an FBI agent. It’s not exactly safe for either my career or life to pursue relationships.”
“I won’t let them hurt you.” The deep growl of words burst between them.
John blinked, watching the possessive fury bloom and then pass. He wasn’t sure what to say. He wasn’t sure how to get this. He wasn’t even sure he was awake, this scenario usually relegated to the deepest depths of his fantasies.
Hellboy’s hesitation was gone. He stepped right into the negligible personal space of the young agent, bending his head until his nose was touching the indentation behind John’s jaw.
The deep inhalation caused John to emit an unmanly squeak. “Red?”
But there was nothing of the familiar left in the eyes that raised to his. Hellboy’s head tilted to the left and then the right. Just when John was nearly certain this was all a hallucination, the heavy stone hand settled above his shoulder with the fist to the wall.
“Last chance, Boyscout.”
Hellboy was sweating. John had never seen anything of the sort happen before, not from a demon immune to fire. There was perspiration beading of the visible portions of his skin. The customary black t-shirt was obviously damp in places.
“Last chance… to stay normal. Stay… and you’ll be just another freak.”
John frowned, too concerned with the pain behind those words to consider his own welfare. He didn’t even realize that these very actions were fulfilling the requirements. Conviction filled his voice as he stated firmly, “You’re not a freak.”
Hellboy chuckled, raising his relatively normal hand to the neck hem of his own shirt. With a barely resistant noise, it tore down the chest. He shrugged the pieces off, smirking slightly at John. Myers was no longer meeting his eyes. His attention was fully on the well-muscled surface before him.
Sure, he’d seen Hellboy shirtless before. Actually, considering some of the damage their opponents did to the demon’s clothes, he’d seen him pretty much nude. But that was somehow different. The intent had been lacking.
John had raised his hand again, seeking the contact that had been prevented before. This time he got it, palm flat against the smooth yet slightly tougher than expected torso. Of course it was tough, the damage he’d seen this… man… resist.
“Mine,” Hellboy growled when John finally touched him. It was the matter of seconds to lift the human and turn towards his sleeping area. John was disoriented, tossed over Hellboy’s shoulder with no fanfare or warning. Just as suddenly, he was let down.
The cats scattered around them as John bounced gently on the specialized mattress. His pupils were widely dilated. A touch of fear had tainted his scent, but nothing overwhelming. Watching as Hellboy impatiently stripped off his remaining clothing, tearing it in the process, John swallowed heavily.
“Oh, God,” he murmured as the nude man approached him. Hellboy was built on the lines of a god… or a demon. His skin was the familiar scarlet hue, except where it shaded to an almost deeper crimson near his groin and beneath his arms. His body was completely hairless and no scrotum hung beneath the heavily erect cock.
It twitched in John’s direction and he swallowed heavily. “Oh boy.”
John squirmed as the bed dipped beneath the weight of Hellboy’s knee. Very thankful for the roomy track pants, John felt his nipples perking up beneath the t-shirt he wore. He knew the sweat damp fabric hid nothing.
Hellboy chuckled in a throatily possessive manner as he leaned over John. He made no move to disrobe his human soon to be lover. He simply bent forward and buried his nose in the fabric tented by John’s erection. As Hellboy inhaled deeply of his mate’s scent, John cried out. His pants grew damp with his release and he flushed, embarrassed by the reaction.
The red eyes that lifted to meet his own were primitive and satisfied, smug with the recognition of what his presence was doing to his lover. Hellboy easily removed John’s clothing, ripping when something would have required them to part. Sparing a moment to wonder where he’d find the clothing to walk out of this room and not violate anyone’s sense of decency, John surrendered to what he knew his companion needed.
John’s only concession to a human’s need for intimacy was to remove the tie restraining Hellboy’s thick ink-black hair. It fell from the pseudo-samurai topknot to float in silky thickness around the demon’s shoulders. Reaching up, John sank his hands in that weight to his wrists and encouraged Hellboy to meet him.
They shared their first kiss. It was deceptively gentle, the undercurrent of need subsiding as they learned the taste and dimensions of lips, teeth, tongue. As in all things intimate that would occur between them, Hellboy was dominant. After permitting John his exploration, he possessed the human’s mouth and forced him to accept the depth of his plunder.
John gasped into the demon’s mouth as he recognized the caress at the base of his spine. Hellboy’s stone hand was planted above John’s head, supporting the significantly greater weight of the demon. His human hand cradled John’s skull like a fragile yet cherished object.
The caress, down his spine and slicking the length of his crease, was Hellboy’s tail.
John whimpered, sucking on the almost too hot tongue still occupying his mouth. He panted around Hellboy’s continuing kiss, shuddering as the tail flicked over his entrance once, twice, three times.
“Red, please,” he whimpered. “We need…”
Hellboy shifted, finally drawing his mouth away from John’s to leave a line of marks down his throat to his chest. The faint sucking bruises would fade relatively quickly, particularly once John’s change began. John blinked twice as a tube was pressed into his hand by Hellboy’s.
“Where did you…” The rest of his words came out in a high-pitched squeak as Hellboy bit a little harsher than gentle on his left nipple. “…get this?”
Switching to the matched neighbor, Hellboy assured himself that John’s arousal continued by bringing the other nipple to a matching peak. “Abe,” he murmured, tracking further down to the navel and swirling the heat of his tongue inside. “Gave me orders not to break you.”
John let his head fall back against the pillow and moaned as far greater than human warmth enveloped his rapidly re-hardening cock. He thrashed, thrusting as much as was permitted by Hellboy’s restraining hand against his hip. The insistent prodding of the tail, this time at the hand holding the tube of lubricant, renewed his flush and had him fumbling with the cap.
It was certainly an odd experience to be lubricating the end of Hellboy’s tail. John wasn’t entirely certain that the heat he thought he was feeling from the blowjob wasn’t spontaneous human combustion from embarrassment. For all his bravado, he’d had relatively few lovers. None that compared to Hellboy in emotion, connection, or admittedly - size.
“Oh, God,” John intoned again as Hellboy lifted him slightly by sliding his hand from his hip to his lower back. The position brought his cock fuller into the sauna wet heat of the demon’s mouth just as the tail inched into his hole.
It stilled there for a moment, barely inside, before pushing deeper. John panted, holding back the need to scream. He couldn’t remember how well these quarters were soundproofed. He certainly didn’t want Clay rushing in here in response to a scream just in time to witness Hellboy’s ravishment of him.
The flicking of Hellboy’s tail tip repeatedly over his prostate brought John’s attention back where it was supposed to be… on his lover. He grunted, coming again. The motions of Hellboy’s mouth were almost too much as the demon swallowed and lapped him clean.
John gave a sharp yank to the hair within his reach, urging Hellboy to give him a moment. His prick needed to recover, especially as the presence of the tail in his ass didn’t seem to be retreating. Hellboy raised himself only to lean in to whisper in John’s ear.
He nipped at the lobe sharply. John, recognizing the warning for what it was, released his grasp on the black hair between his fingers. They would have a working partnership and the changes would affect the field… but in the bedroom, Hellboy would always be in charge.
The puff of air that caressed his neck smelled faintly of John’s come. He found that almost too arousing a thought for someone who’d ejaculated twice in such a short time.
“You told Liz that I would never hurt my mate.”
John released the tube as Hellboy lifted it from his mostly limp hand. He was beyond anything but cooperation. He was limp from his release, sated with lust, relaxed with trust for his lover’s care.
“You were right, Boyscout.”
John blinked at Hellboy as the demon stared intensely into his eyes. He was shifted, legs spread wide and propped over thighs thick with muscle. His own muscles tensed and spasmed, splayed as they were. He could feel the tail ease from him, only to be replaced by the barely warmed end of the tube of lubricant.
There was the wet, squishy feel as the product was inserted directly into him from its container. John made a face, not liking the almost clinical application. Hellboy leaned into him, brushing their lips together gently as the tail returned.
It seemed thicker this time. John sucked in a breath as it pushed inside and he recognized what Hellboy must have done. His tail was doubled back on itself. Hellboy was using this most agile part of himself to stretch his human lover to his tolerance.
John writhed, on the edge of protesting due to his own sensitivity. He was too far gone to care that Hellboy’s expression only grew more determined, more possessive, as he observed the human beneath him.
Then, suddenly, they were inverted. John’s head spun as he was straddling red-hued hips, barely holding himself above the scarlet prick with the last of his strength. The tail wound back and forth across his back, the doubled tip still lodged in his ass. He was leaning, almost fully supported, on Hellboy’s upraised hand.
It was stunning, to stare down at his demon in the throes of lust. Hellboy was flushed, his scarlet skin turned crimson and shading to purpled hues of eggplant. John needed, more than just about anything, to see what those features looked like in orgasm.
He felt the tail moving out, slowly slipping from his body. It twisted against his back, the tip working at something. Dropping his head, John could just see that Hellboy was using the excess lubricant from his tail to coat his urgently needy cock. Then, with gravity and his own failing muscles, that girth was pressing against his entrance.
“Red… I… I…”
John whimpered, not able to express his own doubts as he was spread by the encroaching head of Hellboy’s prick. He wasn’t sure he wanted to stop. But, at the same time, he wasn’t sure he was capable of continuing.
“Shhh…” Hellboy crooned a reassuring syllable to him as if he was a startled feline. “Take me, Boyscout. Relax and take me.”
John swallowed, focusing on opening to the girth that felt like it was splitting him in two. He truly didn’t believe his body would yield, would even survive this couple. Suddenly, he felt the fool for having thought he could reassure Liz about Hellboy’s size.
But, just as suddenly, the contemplation of this demon with any other lover was enraging. John’s head lifted, his eyes locking with intent on the deeply burning gaze below him. Hellboy was grinning, nearly smirking with his satisfaction as John’s body accepted the head of his cock.
“That’s it,” the demon reassured. John sank in fits and spurts onto the thick shaft, his muscles failing him, the support of Hellboy’s hand and tail lowering him, gravity and his own desire conspiring to stretch his body.
“Ahhhh!”
John didn’t care who heard his scream, throwing his head back as his full weight settled across Hellboy’s hips. He could feel the cheeks of his ass, spread onto the demon’s groin and touching his thighs. He could feel the heat of the turgid prick sunk deep inside him. He could feel his own need reflected back at him from Hellboy himself.
Not recognizing the words coming from his own mouth, John babbled in a hoarse guttural tongue echoed back at him by Hellboy himself. The words were heavy with meaning, despite their immediate lack of translation.
Later, John’s mind promised as his body spasmed around the intruder. Holding Hellboy tight within him, John screamed again. Falling victim to the massaging pressure, Hellboy grunted and shifted infinitesimally deeper. He was buried within John’s body, cock spurting a heated release.
John wavered, staring unseeingly at the streaks of white ejaculate across Hellboy’s chest. He blinked, growing faint from his exertions and limp within the demon’s supporting grasp.
Hellboy eased him to the side, not allowing his cock to slip fully from the human’s body even as he withdrew far enough to nestle them face to face. His tail wound around John’s thighs, holding him tight as his lover rested within his arms.
“He’boy’?” John questioned, already slipping into a doze.
The contented smile that eased onto Hellboy’s usually stern and forbidding face was all the reassurance necessary. The demon caressed John’s lower lip with his thumb, appreciating the beauty of his mate.
“Rest, mine,” he rumbled, the sound echoing from his mouth and vibrating within his chest.
John sighed, shifting slightly and edging further into the support of Hellboy’s body. He dropped into an exhausted rest, never registering the faint knock on the door or Hellboy’s close scrutiny.
Finis