Devil

Devil
By: TheGoddessofDeath

A/N: Written for a challenge on livejournal a few years ago.

I love Mondays.

Well, to be honest, I love every day of the week. But especially Mondays.

That is the one day of the week I get to spend with Jesse. His only day off in his busy schedule. In my opinion, he works too hard for a little fame. If I ever told him that, however, he would probably tell me otherwise. Everyone sees things differently.

I've been with him for about three months now. We were the best of friends, everyone knew that. Very few people were surprised when we broke the news to them that we were dating. Well, that's an interesting thing within itself. I was caught kissing Jesse in some dark corner one day during the last few weeks of filming RENT. Idina found us, and naturally by the end of the day, everyone knew.

"Wilson and Jesse were kissing," one person would say.

"They do it all the time. It's a part of their role," another would retort.

"Out of costume?" the first person questioned.

We tried to explain it was just practice, but that fooled no one, considering I wasn't even supposed to be there anymore. My character was already dead, and I was just there to support my friends who did have to film still. Now people make of it what they want. I'm still surprised the tabloids havn't gotten ahold of it. But, then again, how many people know who Wilson Jermaine Heredia is? We're no Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie, that's for sure.

I'm really not sure why we were so drawn to each other. Being pseudo lovers for the camera was very fun, but it meant nothing. It was our masks meeting and caressing, our alter egos connecting and bonding. Not Jesse and I. Though it happened somehow. I have liked him for about 7 years or such. I married, despite it all. But she just wasn't the replacement for him, but thinking that our paths would never cross again, I decided to put up with it. When she asked why I didn't want children, I avoided the issue. That's when I found out they were doing a RENT film. I was heartbroken. Someone else portraying Angel? It just could not happen. But fortunately, it brought Jesse and I back together and I divorced quickly. Soon, he figured out I had feelings for him, and he accepted me. I've never been happier.

That leads to another interesting point. Why I love Mondays and Jesse so much. Jesse's a sweet and gentle soul. So paitent, so loving. The only fault he has is he has a very low self esteem. He constantly asks me why I chose him of all people. I tell him the same thing each and every time: "If I didn't want to be here, I would've left already. I'll let you know when that time comes."

Then he shows me that cute smile of his that melts my heart entirely, and a small "thanks, Wil".

One Monday three weeks ago, he rolled over in bed that morning and took me in his grasp, kissing my ear and neck before whispering a soft "good morning, my angel" to me. There was nothing out of the ordinary about that, he always did that, but what he said next caught me off guard.

"Wilson, can I ask you a small question?"

I rolled over to face him, smiling sweetly at his sleepy expression. "Of course," I replied.

"I want you to be honest. Do you think I will amount to anything? You know, be remembered when I'm dead and gone."

I was quiet for a moment, a bit stunned. What was he getting at? "What brought this up all of a sudden?"

He chuckled, holding me closer to his body. "Well, I have been thinking, you know, will I be remembered or will I die one of those people that they say has died and everyone shrugs their shoulders and goes on with their lives undisturbed?"

It was disturbing me that he was all of a sudden talking about death. "If you want my opinion Jess, I think you will. Black history month, remember?"

"Yes, but that's only for people who made a difference in the world."

I frowned, loosening myself from his grip and propping myself on my elbows. "Says who? You may not have won the olympics like Jesse Owens or made some empowering speech like Martin Luther King, Jr., but you're still an actor, and the character you brought to life was amongst one of the very controversial. I mean, how many black gay anarchist broadway characters are there?"

There was still no smile upon his face. "That doesn't matter, Wilson. I don't want to be remembered as Tom Collins, I want to be remembered as Jesse L. Martin."

"And who says you won't be?" I asked, trying to regain dominace in the discussion.

"But you said..." I put my fingers to his lips.

"You misunderstood me, love. Now, no more negative thoughts. You're fine. You'll be remembered for years to come. Now, if you really want to make a mark on history, you'll stop feeling sorry for yourself and give me what you promised last night but were too wiped out to give."

That made him grin like a dork, and we sat up in the bed. "Anything you want, Wilson," he said, his voice husky.

His lips were upon my neck in a split second, light kisses tracing up to my mouth. Our lips joined like lock and key, only made for the other and no one else's. We both already had our shirts off, our hands tracing the outline of muscles on each other's torso. I shivered, and he felt it. He smirked, nipping my earlobe as his hands found their way past the elastic of my boxers.

"You like that, don't you?" he whispered to me as he let a calloused finger run on the inside of my thigh. I moaned, letting my head rest on his shoulder. It was not long before he gave me what I wanted, stroking me toward completion. I panted and groaned, which increased his actions. We both wanted something from the other. He wanted my sounds of pleasure, I wanted his touch. It was't long before I let out a tremendous cry of his name.

"JESSE, OH MY GOD PLEASE LET ME COME..."

Of course, he didn't. Right when I said that, he pulled his hand away. Bastard. If he goes down in history, I'll make sure everyone knows how much of a tease he can be.

I wanted him to have his turn, and I moved my mouth down toward his cock. He pulled me up forcefully before I could do so, though.

"Nuh uh, I'm having what I want today. My birthday's tomorrow."

I was about to protest, but he kissed me before I could. "Now, come put that pretty ass of yours over here on my lap."

I obliged, sitting straight on his still covered erection. He hissed as I did so, and I smiled to myself.

"So, you want to play THAT game, huh?" Uh oh. Jesse's using his big voice now. That means he's too far gone in the heat of the moment.

"Fuck me, Jesse. God damnit, just do it!" I screamed out loud.

"Quiet," he growled at me as he pulled his boxers down. The contact of our skin together was delicious and it will send sparks through me everytime.

I felt his cock at my entrance and my breath quickened. He didn't want to use the lubricant that day. I braced myself for the pain of his invasion. When it came, I screamed so loudly I had to clamp my mouth shut with my hands. I heard the groans from Jesse behind me. "I love you like this. So unprepared...so tight around me..."

I was afraid to move, but he did it for me, moving my hips up and down. The pain mixed with the pleasure and soon I could enjoy it. I was his plaything, his tool for pleasure, and I loved it.

"OH...Jesse...." I let my head fall back to lay on his shoulder again. My mouth was agape as he continued to move in and out of me. It burned, oh it hurt like a flame inside me. Yet I enjoyed it and hoped it would consume me.

"Fuck Wilson, make me come in you..." he whispered harshly. Just then he slammed me down once hard upon him, the familiar sensation of his seed filling me. It's a surreal feeling, and it always will be. I felt my muscles clamp around him and I came as well, the bedsheets getting my essence all over them. He kissed my sweat slicked skin, letting me climb off of him. I know I'll be walking funny for a few days now.

"If anything, Jess, they should put you down in history for that," I said breathless. "You know how to inflict pain on someone and make them enjoy it."

"I'm the devil, Wil. I thought you knew that by now," his deep voice said as he leaned over me and kissed the back of my neck.

I wanted to disagree with him on that. He is anything but that. But, I guess every Angel does need a Devil. And if he wants to go down in history as such, I can see that is arranged.