Work Text:
Temptation has always been something father Pucci had felt... almost immune to.
It wasn't to say that he never wanted, but he'd always found it ridiculously easy to ignore his wants to focus on his vocation.
Because wants are not needs, he would tell himself. He didn't need those fancy shoes (though admittedly, his wardrobe was definitely more on the pricy side, making it perhaps his only vice), he didn't need that second serving and he most certainly didn't need that cute churchgoer with the red hair and the half moon glasses to press him against the door and shove his tongue down his throat.
Hmm, bad thought, bad thought. Moving on.
All he needed was a roof on his head, a warm meal, and a bed, and he had that and more. To insist on seeking even more would've been irresponsible and unworthy of a man of the church, especially when so many of his parishioners had less than he did.
His good heart was nothing short of legendary in the town, and he himself was widely regarded by everyone who knew him as the closest thing to a saint the US had had in a long time, though this fact in particular, he didn't know and would've felt embarrassed by, had he been aware of it.
This is all to say that, out of everyone, it wasn't surprising that some hellspawn had to be involved in person for him to be pushed on a dark road.
Even if the actual tempting was kind of accidental on said hellspawn's part.
♡
Dio sighed.
So far, it had been a dreadfully boring night. It seemed like that year every child in the world had collectively decided that they had to behave like little angels. Even with Straizo's overzealousy, the amount of people on the naughty list had been not over the three digits (although Jonathan and Erina's meddling had helped getting some out of hot water). Quite the feat, everything considered.
So little work for a krampus in his prime such as Dio. Though he guessed it was the effect his job was actually supposed to have- to scare children into submissiveness.
It gave him little pride though, since nothing changed the fact that he was done for the year, it was only one a.m, and he had nothing left to do for the rest of the night.
And he was bored.
He stood from his spot on a roof, stretching. In a blink, he'd dissolved into a cold winter breeze.
He flew around aimlessy for a few minutes, before his uncorporeal gaze settled on a small church at the edge of town.
Officially speaking, even if he was technically a denizen of the nethers and his appearance reflected that quite well, his job made him settle nicely into the more "holy" part of the spiritual realms. A heavenly punisher, instead of a hellish tempter, despite the fact that he was quite good as the latter as well (as four children conceived with just as many mortal women could testify).
Which meant that he could easily walk onto holy grounds without fear of ripercussions.
And besides, he liked churches.
They were hotspots of guilt and sin, but most importantly...
... They were pretty.
... Well, sometimes even he could have innocent reasons for doing something.
He flew into the building, taking physical form again to better observe the paintings. He could recognize a few of the subjects- St. Theresa, writing something in a book. St. Francis, shoeless and surrounded by animals. Joan D'Arc, wearing her armour. Unorthodox and wildly different choices, all put together in one building like that, but the paintings themselves were pretty. Made by an amateur, but one with talent, or at least one who had put a lot of effort into making them look good.
A devout person, too, since Dio could smell the unique stink of true faith from where he was standing.
Actually, there was remarkably little sin hanging in the air, around the altar, in the vesting rooms. Even on holy grounds, usually the bittersweet smell of degeneracy was much more potent, like a bed of flowers that was starting to decay. Either they had the building regularly blessed (unlikely, that day and age), or the local believers were really as pious as they were supposed to be (which was just as unlikely).
(He still remember that one time he walked into a priest having his fun with a woman on the altar. He'd been disguised as a human at the time, and it'd taken very little smooth talking to convince them to let him join. Still one of his favourite memories, if only because it never failed to make Jonathan grimace and plug his ears shut to try and tune him out every time he recalled it.)
Or, perhaps, one of the worshippers' faith was just overpowering all the other's petty little sins. Who knew.
His tail flickered as he heard steps, and he turned, a brilliant grin on his lips as he gazed back at the horrified looking priest who had just walked into the room.
♡
At first, Pucci had thought that it had to be a costume. Those had to be fake horns, and those were... really weird furry pants, with a fake tail to boot.
A tasteless joke, for sure, especially on Christmas and in a church, but a joke none the less.
But when the tail moved, clearly on its own and smooth as a snake and the man (?) turned to look at him, he felt himself going through every stage of grief in the span of two seconds flat.
He'd trained for stuff like this- but only in theory. A priest he may have been, and he technically knew what to do to exorcise a demon, but he wasn't so old fashioned to believe that demons actually roamed the Earth in the flesh, or the demonic equivalent of it.
The devil hardly needed to do much, after all, humans did more than enough on their own by constantly overindulging.
The devil shot a sharp smile at him, the light catching on his dark, metallic looking horns.
"Why, hello."
Pucci splashed him in the face with holy water.
♡
"Did you make these?"
It turned out that Dio (that was the demon's name apparently) was immune to holy water.
Special privileges, he'd explained, due to his job as a spirit of Christmas. A krampus, if you could believe it.
After the misunderstanding had been cleared (truth to be told, it did make sense that holy water wouldn't hurt something that could easily walk onto holy grounds now that he thought about it for more than just a second- thankfully, Dio had just laughed the accident off instead of biting his jugular out of his throat), the conversation had turned more civil, and even friendly.
"How did you know?"
Dio smiled. Now that Pucci knew he wasn't (that) dangerous, it looked less bloodthirsty and more charming. "It smells like faith and purity. And you have the same exact smell."
The only answer he received was a dark blush, and he laughed, voice deep and too sultry for Pucci's poor brain at that moment.
"You're a good artist."
"Thank you."
♡
Dio's fur was surprisingly soft.
And he knew that because after a few hours of idle chit chat about anything spanning from greek phylosophy, to the inner workings of the angelic society, to Pucci's favourite dishes, sitting on the benches, the demon's tail had plopped down in his lap. As he looked up at the other, confused, Dio had grinned.
"I noticed you were staring. I thought I might as well give you permission to touch before you give yourself an aneurysm by overthinking about it."
Pucci had blushed, again, (Jesus give him strenght, being gay had never done anything to hinder him in his holy path, being sometimes a blessing in disguise instead, so why was he being swayed now by the most literal definition of "devilishly handsome"?) but truth to be told, he was curious.
Hesitantly, he stroked the tail in his lap. The fur was a near black that shone with deep red highlights, vaguely reminding Pucci of soms velvet-covered chairs he'd seen once. The tuft at the end of the tail, instead, was of a brilliant, metallic gold that looked like Dio's hair. It was surprisingly pretty. When he thought of the classic demon iconography, he usually either thought of short, goat like tails, or naked and greenish ones with a spade tip. This looked a bit more like a lion's tail, even though the colours were off.
As if he was reading in his mind, Dio rumbled lowly, still smiling down at him doing nothing to hide his amusement. Pucci playfully raked his short nails over the tail, like he was scratching a big cat, but the shiver that went through the demon had nothing playful to it, and he froze.
He looked up, locking eyes with Dio.
The demon's eyes were half lidded, and until that moment Pucci had been certain that the idea of eyes having a "fire" in them had been nothing more than poetic license, but then again, maybe that was only true for humans because he could actually see flames dancing in them.
As Dio leaned closer, he inhaled sharply. The demon stopped in his tracks as Pucci pulled back with a frown.
"You're a servant of the Lord."
Dio smirked. "I much prefer employee. I chose to work for Him. I could leave if I wanted."
"Employee, then. Isn't this still kind of against the rules?"
Dio rolled his eyes. "I'm a devil. Do you really think they hold me to the standards angels are held? I'll have you know I've sired my fair share of bastards in my life."
"Well, I am not a demon, and I am a servant of the Lord." The expression on both their faces couldn't be described as anything but pouts, which was ridiculous considering how they were both grown men sporting by now pretty visible boners.
(Pucci desperately tried not to look at Dio's weird demon dick, which was only partially obscured by the fur on his crotch. He only peeked a couple times, which he personally counted as a victory.)
"Is that your only objection to this? Your celibacy vow? Not the fact that I'm a krampus, or a man, or that we met like three hours ago, or whatever the fuck?"
That, admittedly, surprised him into a contemplative silence. Was that really the only objection to be had in that situation?
Well... Dio was, in his own way, a creature of God as well. Someone who was serving Him far more directly than Pucci ever could, even.
He was allowed on consecrated land, holy water didn't hurt him, and he'd seen him delicately touch the big crucifix in the church with a charming, thoughtful gaze and not suffering from any side effect whatsoever.
And...
Okay, look. He'd made peace with his attraction (and lack thereof) long ago. He was almost forty, and long past the point of feeling shame over finding men attractive. And though he'd never felt the need to have a romantic or sexual relationship, Dio somehow had managed to hit... pretty much every single button.
He was gorgeous, yes, but more than that, during their conversation he'd felt for the first time that someone really listened to him because they were interested in what he as a person had to say, and not what he thought as a priest. Dio had teased him, challenged him, all in his own brand of taking you seriously without being serious.
He felt like Dio understood him and found him just as interesting as Pucci found the devil.
So, yes. It was kind of depressing to see that, had he not been bound by his vow, he would've probably already been twisting his fingers in Dio's hair as they mashed mouths together. Did he really have so little self control?
He jumped a little as Dio flung one leg over him and sat in his lap. Any protest died in his throat, however, as he saw a hint of understanding in the other's eyes. "Listen. You just say the word, and I'll leave you as unsullied as the day you were born. But..." he grasped his chin between clawed fingers, gently. "That's not what is gonna get you a spot in Hell, if that's what you're concerned about."
"That's not it-" An eyebrow raised in disbelief made him correct himself hurriedly "-not all of it. I made a promise."
"And you're also a human. You think anyone really expects you guys to keep a lifelong vow? Even the most pious have done some skeevy bullshit in their lives. You think you're any better?"
The way they looked at each other was akin to a battle. Their gazes both held an equal, impossible weight. Pucci had more than enough arguments to oppose this... unholy union, but he was perfectly aware that Dio most likely had the best counterargument possible for each and every one of them.
And shamefully, the idea of a battle of wits between them did nothing but make even more blood rush south.
What the fuck even was wrong with him.
There had to be some demonic magic at work there. Something beyond pretty eyes and a silver tongue. He needed to ask Dio what it was.
"Why are you in such a hurry?" was what came out of his mouth instead. "If you really can smell my faith, as you put it, you should know I'm not that easily swayed. Why not try to win me over a few dates," his mouth curved upwards slightly at the thought of going to a fancy restaurant with the demon "instead of trying to tempt me all of a sudden like this?"
With a sort of morbid fascination, he watched Dio's smile slowly slip off his face.
"... I'm leaving at dawn. And I won't be able to come back until next Christmas."
"Oh."
"And there is no guarantee I'll have the time to come here by then."
"Oh."
Dio slipped off his lap and stood, clawed hand running through his hair in what seemed like mild frustration. "It's one of the rules. I only get a few hours on Earth per year. Hasn't been much of an issue for me so far, but it certainly doesn't lend itself to developing deep and loving relationships."
There was a moment of silence.
"Why me, then? Why not some other man who would accept your avances much more easily?"
More silence. Dio turned to look at him.
"Because I like you."
"Come again?"
"Your first instinct when you saw me was to spray me with holy water. That takes guts on its own, but then not only that, you also proved yourself to be smart, open minded and yet secure in your convinctions. And handsome, to boot." A grin drew itself on his face. "You're a rare man. And you somehow managed the impossible, tempting the tempter."
He stepped closer to Pucci, grasped his chin again. "A cruel man too, seducing me and then leaving me hanging like this."
It should've been manipulative, but it just sounded teasing. Pucci smirked, pushing off the hand. "You're not going to guilt me into sleeping with you."
An amused grin was his answer. "Was worth a try."
The smile melted away into surprise as Pucci stood on his tiptoes, cradling Dio's face and pressing a chaste kiss to his lips.
"But... do try to come back next year, if you still feel like it. Maybe by the second or third date I'll be ready."
♡
Just like every other year, Pucci spent the night of the 31st of december in the church.
There was no deep reason to it. It was just a beacon of peace and quiet while the rest of the town broke into loud shrieks as the clock hit midnight.
It wasn't like he hated New Year's, but he found that the festivity didn't really appeal to him, not when Perla and Domenico lived on the other side of the country and more often than not had no time to come and make him feel less lonely, the former busy with her own family, the latter probably still working in that jailhouse in Florida.
And so, he just spent the night in quiet contemplation, musing about the fact that another year had passed and that he wasn't quite sure what he was doing with his life.
Although, that year he also had the encounter with Dio, and the relative implications, to think about.
His promise, especially, gave him pause. He didn't regret it, but it still frequently hit him how enormous what he'd gotten himself into was.
At least I have almost a year to get used to the idea.
And it was at that moment, because God had a bizarre sense of humour, that someone knocked at the door.
He wasn't expecting to find himself pressed against the wall, Dio's familiar form too close for comfort, the moment he opened it.
"Hello."
"Dio" he gasped as the demon's knee ended up between his legs fast as lightning, yet delicate enough not to hurt.
"Is the offer still open? Or did it strictly depend oh the time?" His eyes were nearly black in arousal, pupils blown so wide that only a narrow golden ring remained around it.
"How- I thought you could only come on Christmas?" He asked, his head feeling light.
"Beat my boss up. He agreed to give me some... holidays."
"You fought your boss just to meet up earlier?"
The demon's grin was predatory. "I did say you tempted me, and I just so happen to be quite weak against temptation. Besides, I've wanted to punch that asshole for a while. Now, where were we?"
♡
They moved to the vesting rooms. If Pucci was really going to lose his virginity in a church, there was no way it was going to happen where the actual worshipping happened.
(He would've argued against that as well, but Dio had impatiently grumbled that he wasn't going through that song and dance again, and that Pucci would have to either trust him on that or just tell him to fuck off. The choice had been remarkably easy.)
He groaned against Dio's lips as a nimble tongue invaded his mouth and the demon's groin rubbed against his. At a loss for what to do, he humped back clumsily from his awkward position of "hanging off Dio like a cat on a tree", prompting a deep chuckle from the other.
"Allow me."
He put the priest back on his feet, before sliding down on his knees in front of him.
And a virgin he may have been, but he knew perfectly well the implication of that position. His face burned as an embarrassing amount of blood went straight to his dick.
Dio must've felt the throb, because he looked up with an absolutely filthy grin as he raised his cassock and unzipped his pants.
He lowered them along with his underwear, and a non small spike of embarrasment went through Pucci as the proof of how ridiculously aroused he was was revealed.
All thoughts fled his head when Dio's weirdly long tongue licked a stripe up his dick, pucci's hand flying to a bronze-like horn.
He lapped at the organ in his hands one, two, three times, before taking the tip in his mouth, tongue swirling in teasing circles around the slit and then swallowing it to the root in one smooth motion, mouth warm and wet around his dick, the tip rubbing against the back of Dio's throat.
Pucci moaned louder than he cared to admit at the idea of sharp fangs so close to his sensitive anatomy, the threat of pain making his head swim in a haze of lust and fear, but the demon expertly avoided nicking him even as he bobbed his head. His dark chuckle ran up the dick in his mouth and Pucci's spine, and the priest threw his head back, resting it on the wall of the room as his chest heaved.
Dio pulled off with a pop, and grinned as Pucci whined slightly at the loss.
"How was that?"
The priest didn't answer until he felt relatively sure his words wouldn't come out as an incoherent babble. "You know it was good, you smug bastard."
He chuckled, resting his cheek against the hip in front of him, his tail curling around one of Pucci's legs.
"Well? What would you like me to do?"
"Wha-?"
"Come on now, one doesn't lose their virginity every day, even less to someone with my... expertize. Tell me what you want, all your secret fantasies, and I'll make them come true."
For a moment, Pucci just tried to catch his breath and reboot his brain, thoughts buzzing around like bees in a hive.
What was he supposed to ask for?
The answer, he guessed, was far simpler than it should've been.
"D-do me."
Dio blinked.
"... That's it? I must admit I was expecting something a bit more... scandalous."
Pucci's cheeks burned as he scowled down at the other. "I'm a priest and still a virgin at almost forty years old. That's as scandalous as I can get."
"You'd be surprised by what some of your colleagues can come up with-"
"Dio."
"Alright, alright." The demon's grin was easy and affectionate as rose to his feet (hooves?) and kissed him sweetly, before making him turn.
The priest yelped as he felt two huge hands grasp his asscheeks and spread them apart.
"Dio?!"
"Relax. I'm going to make this good for you."
For the second time in the span of twenty minutes (a personal record), words escaped him as he felt what definitely was a tongue lap at his asshole.
Bolts of lightning went up and down his spine as Dio worked him open, and only his hold kept him upright when the tip of his tongue breached his hole, over and over again.
"That's- ah- dirty" he gasped, but Dio just hummed against his ass.
"Don't worry about that, I've got magic for this kind of stuff" and he was about to reply to that and say something about how awfully convenient that is, but then the demon's tongue did a thing, curling inside before going back outside to circle the rim, then back inside and out like he was trying to fuck him just with his tongue, and any thought of complaining went out of the window as he shook and moaned like a seasoned whore. His hips rocked back without any control on his part as it went impossibly deep, deeper than any human tongue could ever go, touching something in him that made sparks burst behind his eyelids.
He wasn't sure how long Dio stood there, stretching him out in the most decadent way possible, but by the time he stood back up, Pucci's head was swimming, unsure which way was up and which was down, dick dripping precome on the floor.
He inhaled sharply as Dio's dick pressed against his asshole, eyes sliding shut and mouth falling open as it entered him, the ridges sending jolts straight to his brain and dick every time a new one popped in. He gasped as Dio's pelvis finally rested against his ass, the last ridge stretching him out even further.
"You good?"
Pucci shivered as Dio purred against his ear, low and soothing and sultry in a way he'd never experienced before, the vibration going deep into his bones and resonating in his rib cage.
"Feel... full..."
"Hmm, that's normal. But it's not an answer."
"God- yes, yes, I'm okay, so please just start moving you cheeky bastard-"
He did.
Dio rocked into him gently at first, then more harshly, hitting that magical spot over and over again (prostate, supplied his fuck drunk brain) and tearing breathless groans and aborted moans from him. A hand closed around his dick, stroking him in perfect counterpoint, another one slipping two clawed fingers in his mouth and it felt like the dick in his ass was growing, filling him up even more in the best way, to the point of being too much but not quite getting there-
All his muscles seized violently as what he could only describe as a tsunami went through him, leaving him panting as his brain rebooted itself.
23%...
45%...
69%...
99%...
His arms trembled as he leaned on the wall, trying to ignore the few drops of come on the floor that had escaped Dio's grip.
Dio, who was still draped over him, dick still firmly buried in Pucci's ass. Not an unpleasant sensation, but jarring all the same now that he wasn't borderline delirious with lust.
"Dio, pull out please."
Silence.
"Dio?"
The demon coughed awkwardly, and he felt something cold make its way up his spine.
"Dio. What is going on?"
"Say, uh. How much do you know about knots?"
"What do knots have to do with this?"
"Uh, I meant dick knots. You know, like dog dick?"
Bafflement and some outrage filled Pucci's tone as he looked back. "Why would I know anything about dog dick?" He moved his hips, trying to disloge the other from his place.
To his horror, he felt resistance. "Are you stuck?"
"Oh, don't worry, it's going to go away in a while."
"... How long is a while?"
"... Ten minutes, give or take."
"DIO!"