Gift fic for Ruthe-La, whom I have a huge platonic love for. She wanted a fic based in the same universe as her amazing story Sympathy for the Devil- which I found adorable since that was her gift fic to me- and so I did my best. It will seem very similar, but I added more homoerotic moments because that is what I do.

I hope you like it, and happy early b-day! I'm swamped for the next few days (gotta study and write that test I completely ignored to finish this- you're worth it- so I'm putting it up now). I hope it does your request justice, and I managed to fit in both of the scenes you wanted!

"And fuck you too," Matthew snarled at the pillar of light that blinked out of existence before he could even finish the dismissal, "Useless, stuck up bastard."

"That's your fifth one this week," Arthur commented dryly from behind him, arms crossed under the deep red of his sleeves, "People are going to talk."

Matthew shrugged and stepped out of his circle, heading for book covered desk that hid in the corner of the dim room, "It's hard to find good help these days. Either I'm crushing them or they're so self absorbed that they don't know how to tone things down."

"You could just switch your robes back to red. Heaven knows we could use you out there."

"No, thank you," Matthew told him pleasantly, keeping his eyes down as he plopped into the rickety chair and opened an old tome, "So what brings you to my neck of the woods? Surely it's not to comment on my commitment issues."

"Politics," the Englishman grumbled, "Bloody wankers can't get anything done without answers being shoved down their throats."

"Mhmm," Matthew hummed, tapping the page with a finger, "They do tend to make things more complicated than they need to be, don't they. Ah ha! I think I found a potential; was there anything else you needed?" He looked up with polite curiousity so overdone that it turned itself into a dismissal, and slowly got to his feet with the book now collected in his hands.

"Watch yourself, lad. Those books hold things in them that should not be drawn out," Arthur warned, but glanced at the wall clock and frowned, "You're right though, I had better run; but we will talk about this again."

"Of course," Matthew smiled, inclining his head in a polite bow, "Try not to give the old geezers a heart attack, they happen to control my paycheck."

"Stuffed up peacocks the lot of them," Arthur retorted, sweeping towards the door with a soldier's march, "Let me know when you find a suitable familiar."

Matthew nodded distractedly, mouthing the words on the page before the door closed and frowning down at the small print. The worst thing about the old books, besides their sheer mass, was the old language printed in them, their true meaning lost by the amount of years that had passed.

And the different cultures they had been dug up from.

Matthew stared down at the drawn summoning circle, the extra lines and patterns there hadn't been used for well over three thousand years before his own birth. They were elaborate, dancing across the page in spirals that made the ink strokes come alive, and far more extravagant than the quick basic symbols he taught.

"Babylonian most likely," he grumbled, stepping into the summoning circle painted on the floor. Many of the old mages had liked to add extra bits, resulting in more than a few of their deaths because of misplaced or overlapping lines.

A deep breath in, the rush of oxygen tingling his lungs, then a forceful rush out in a river of words, their sounds echoing around the room, bouncing off the stone walls and wooden ceiling. Candles flickered, casting elongated shadows that threatened to break free and swallow everything up, until everything suddenly stopped.

Matthew felt the last word fall from his lips, dropping to the floor with an audible ping that was crushed beneath the weight of silence that smothered the room.

"Well this is unexpected," an amused voice said from the darkness within the summoning circle, the design lighting up like blue flames were caught in the paint. The light seemed to shift within the room, slowly pushing the shadows away until a figure took form like a cheshire cat.

Blue eyes watched him until they turned to look around, the demon's body slowly solidifying beneath vapours that circled lovingly. A loose grey sweater rolled up at the sleeves draped on the muscular body, covering the top of the blue jeans that looked about ready to fall off.

"Shit," Matthew grumbled, pushing his hair back out of his eyes with frustration. He could already tell that this one was going to a handful just by the cocky stance, the blond head tilted back and feet braced just far enough apart that he was practically oozing hubris.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" the demon drawled, "I thought you'd be happy to see me."

"Ecstatic," Matthew growled right back, looking down at the book for the dismissal it wanted him to use.

"Not so fast," he heard, feeling a biting wind sweep past him as it slammed the book shut, "I want to know what has you going through a book that was supposed to have been burned a few millennia back."

Matthew looked back up, blinking the dust from his eyes and trying not to sneeze, "Take a wild guess," he motioned to the floor, letting the book drop when it remained firmly closed under his prying fingers, "You get three guesses, first two don't count."

"Ah," the demon said, glancing down before looking up again with a shrug, "Well then, what are your terms?"

"I'm sorry?" Matthew asked, unable to keep his surprise from his voice. This was completely backwards; he was supposed to summon a demon, watch as it fought to break its bonds and kill him, then order the grudging thing to follow his orders.

And demons were not supposed to be able to affect him directly unless it was dropping the temperature.

A prickling of unease raced up his spine when the demon smiled at him, its eyes sparkling with amusement, "Terms, dude. You summoned me with a plan in mind so let's get all of these annoying little business talks over with."

"You're not Forras."

The demon snorted, "Obviously. Just call me Alfred F. Jones," the smile became sharp as the tanned hands were slid into the front pockets of its pants, "So what did you want?"

Matthew swallowed, the thick feeling in his throat tightening even more under the direct gaze. Without the real name he had no way of controlling Alfred, and no way of dismissing him if things became rough, "I need someone strong enough to watch my back, but low key enough that I can downplay to keep teaching."

Alfred looked surprised at that, his blue eyes dragging themselves slowly up and down Matthew's figure, "Not the most powerful I've teamed up with, but you're not exactly a slouch either. Fine, but in return you're mine once this is all over."

Every fiber of Matthew's being balked, begging him to listen to the alarm bells going off high pitched in his head, "Yes," he choked out, unconsciously scrubbing at the invisible bloodstains that coated his hands. Hell already had him by the short hairs, he reasoned, may as well go out with one of its minions.

Alfred smiled, his eyes glowing neon blue as he stepped over the lines of the circle, their crackle and hiss as they burned up on the floor sending a punch of dread into Matthew's gut.

"Pucker up, sweetheart," he heard, feeling warm breath ghost against his ear. Another deep breath in, pulling in the scent of sulfur and earth, he tilted his head and pressed his lips against the chapped ones that burned with an intense heat.

Liquid warmth trickled over his skin, followed by a silken appendage that pressed into his mouth, bringing the taste of iron that flowed thickly over his own tongue. Sharp pain followed, Alfred's teeth digging into his lip, until his own blood flowed out only to be lapped up.

"You're mine now, mage, and don't you forget it."

Matthew pulled his head back, lilac eyes stern and glittering like diamonds with annoyance, "Was that really necessary?"

"Very," Alfred told him, "Can't have anyone else taking my things, now can I?"

"Whatever," he grumbled, glancing at the clock as he did, "Well this has been fun, but it's time for you to keep your side of the bargain. Let's go."

The purple robes that marked him as a teacher swirled around his legs as he stepped out of the now useless protective circle, purposefully not looking at the warped and burnt lines. All traces of panic were pushed down as far as they could go, disappearing the professional curiousity he felt over the demon.

Alfred was walking happily beside him, looking just as curious as Matthew felt as his blue eyes darted excitedly around. The goofy grin was so unlike the one from within Matthew's study, lacking its razor edge and dark amusement.

"What do you teach?" the demon asked, his voice the sudden nasal tone Matthew had only heard in New York.

"The basics. How to draw out magic, and how to use it. Mainly I just teach until they grow enough to know which group they belong in, and I occasionally watch over their first summonings."

He could see Alfred wrinkling his nose in distaste before it smoothed out again and a little happy smile appeared, "Must mean a lot of explosions."

"Some, but never very large or deadly. There was one kid a few years ago that was terrible at control and nearly burned down the classroom, but if you want chaos then I suggest overseeing potions when Arthur is around."

"I just might," Alfred grinned, then pointed to the door Matthew had stopped in front of, "This one?"

"Yep," he answered warily, not really surprised when the demon raised a foot and kicked the door open, destroying the hinges and leaving a dent in the wood.

"Hello, y'all! M'name is Alfred Jones and I'll be helping out from now on!"

Matthew sighed and walked in calmly behind him, taking in the shocked expression on his student's faces with amusement, "Class, this is my new familiar. If he tells you to do something stupid, please talk to me about it first, otherwise just play nice."

"Master Williams-"

"Matthew Williams?" Alfred asked suddenly, cutting off the student as he swung around to stare at Matthew. The mage nodded, just flickering his eyes toward the demon before focusing on the child.

"Yes, Josh?"

"No way. Totally didn't recognize you, bro! It's been forever!" Matthew stiffened when arms wrapped around him, pulling him into a burning embrace that suffocated him under the images of battles past. He could smell the cloying scent of death, feel the burning of mustard gas in his lungs, could feel the ground shake beneath him as guns fired beside his ears.

"Who are you?" he rasped out, struggling to pull away.

"Ouch. I'm an old friend, dude. You've known me since forever. I'm a big fan of your work."

For the first time Matthew looked into the ageless eyes, seeing the engulfing blue flames that devoured, the crushing waves that pulled lives under, and the smoke that rose from overheated rifles.

"Master Williams?"

In every breath he could hear the death rattle of a soldier, the hoarse cries of those who had screamed their throats raw, the wind that dried the blood as it soaked into the ground.

"Master Williams?"

Clearing his throat, Matthew jerked away and looked back at his student, "Sorry, Josh. You were asking?"

"I know you explained yesterday, but can you go over how to make that glowy light?"

"Alfred, did I, or did I not, tell you to dress for the occasion?"

"But suits are so stuffy!" the demon whined, lounging on the couch in faded black pants and a red t-shirt.

"It's only for an evening," Matthew said as calmly as he could, adjusting his purple sleeves before slipping on his dress shoes, "I told you I don't want to get noticed, and you're doing a terrible job at keeping that side of the bargain. I'm banned from any competition because of you."

"No you're not," he heard from the cushions, "Who banned you, and when?"

"I banned myself after just showing up caused two regiments to start trying to kill each other. Your eyes flashed, Alfred, I know you did something but I haven't figured out what just yet."

Laughter flowed around the house, gushing like a crimson river from between parted lips, "I was just being me, bro. If that causes people to lose control then so be it."

"Whatever, let's just go."

"About time," Alfred grumbled, standing up and stretching out his entire body. Matthew watched with hooded eyes, looking away milliseconds before Alfred could turn enough to catch him, wondering where the disgust he should be feeling at himself was.

Alfred followed behind him, still looking around himself with curiousity at the halls he had travelled through for the past week. Their footsteps matched beat for beat, sending shivers up Matthew's spine at how closely it resembled a timed march, how easily the memory of booted thuds crept into his mind.

The wind swept through to his very bones, cutting through his layers like they weren't even there. People flooded the streets around them, voices raised as they walked in past, completely ignorant of the faux human within their midsts. The evening sun washed them out, settling them as shadows that moved around them like surreal ghosts, or memories engrained within the stone.

"So this is it?" Alfred's voice spoke from the darkness, pulling him to a stop across from a small restaurant door. Light spilled out from the windows, both artificial and natural, a mixture of spices and candles leaking out from the very wood.

"Yeah," he replied gloomily, folding his hands up into his sleeves, "Let's go get this over with."

"We don't have to," Alfred told him, the demon's voice amused and hopeful. Matthew just rolled his eyes and pushed open then door, quickly looking around for Arthur and his familiar.

"Matthew, over here!"

Matthew searched for the owner of the voice and waved when he found it, giving his old teacher a quick smile as he walked over,

"Arthur, this is Alfred. Alfred, that is Arthur." He said halfheartedly, sitting down in his chair beside a blond he had met.

"So you're his new familiar? That's Francis, by the way. He'd been around for a while but its just never worked for you two to meet."

"Heyya, Lust. Hows it going?"

Matthew jerked his head up, staring at Alfred like he was insane before turning to 'Lust'.

"Ah, bonjour, mon ami. It's been a while, has it not."

"Loads. Troy, wasn't it?"

"Our best work, but surely we've seen each other since."

Matthew stared at the two demon, not knowing what to think until something struck a note that had him turning to Arthur in disbelief, "You summoned one of the seven sins?"

Arthur looked uncomfortable as he shrugged, a feeling Matthew shared, "I told you those bloody books were dangerous."

"How did you end up with Lust?"

"Now, now, there is enough of me to go around," the Sin butted in, leaning on the table while watching the two mages, "I just happened to be the most bored out of my brethren so I answered the call. My question though, is how did you end up with War?"

"You don't recognize him? He was one of my best customers a few decades back; didn't know it was him at first, but I felt something familiar so I jerked the fishline," Alfred cut in with a shit-eating smirk, "Is anyone else up here?"

"Pride has a gig with that battle mage, Ludwig I believe his name to be. Gluttony was around for a bit, but I think he got bored and went back home."

"Can't blame him. Being stuck in one spot is kinda over-rated."

"Alfred," Matthew interrupted, taking a deep breath to calm his thoughts, "You are a horseman of the apocalypse and you never bothered to mention it?"

"Does it really matter?" Lust asked curiously, fingers threading together delicately on the table.

"Not really," Matthew grumbled in agreement, "I guess I'm stuck with him either way."

"Damn right you are!" Alfred cheered happily, "Hey, Matt, you should get me some hamburgers. Like, twelve at least," the demon turned away from them and waved at the waitress, his smile sending shiver up Matthew's spine, "Hey, sweetheart, I think we're ready to order. Find the largest plate you've got and just stack it with burgers. Mattie will have a steak with salad."

"I don't eat meat, Alfred," Matthew sighed, and then leaned over his familiar to change his order, watching Francis snap up the menus from Arthur's hands out of the corner of his eye.

A hand pressed against his chest, pushing him back down into the seat before he could speak, the feeling of bones crushing and lungs collapsing under the weight of metal tires pounding in his head.

"You will," Alfred told him, the demon's breath ghosting against his ear like smoke from burning bodies, "Just accept it, Matthew."

Matthew nodded, his throat dry as each nerve prickled, stomach rolling as Alfred sat back with a contented smile. Across from them Francis was ordering for a stormy Arthur, the British War Mage looking non too impressed with his free will taken away.

When the food came, he ate slowly under the demon's gaze, forcing the pink tinged flesh past his lips where it sat like ash on his tongue.

"Matt."

Matthew grunted, turning the page of the report on the mating habits of imps.

"Matt!"

"Did you know they have a breeding center for lower level demons? Apparently imps have more uses than just being messengers; you can also feed them to higher level demons, use their blood in spells, breed them for colour."

"Matt!"

Matthew looked up and jerked back in surprise, hitting his head against the back of the back of the overstuffed armchair, "Personal space!"

"Matthew," Alfred told him sternly, the magic balls of light glinting off of his glasses as the demon leaned forward, legs pressing in on either side as his nose pressed into the side of Matthew's neck, "Matthew, I'm bored."

"Would you like me to send you to a breeding center?" Matthew snapped, letting the pages fall from his numb fingers. His breath caught as sharp teeth grazed along his skin, scratching at the pulse that beat rapidly beneath.

"Mmmm, not really my thing. I was thinking more of an outing if you catch my drift."

Matthew reached up and pressed his palms against the burning shoulders, teeth bared and mind shying away from their connection, "You need a leash, Cathal."

Laughter rolled around him like distant thunder, dark and threatening while holding promise, "You want to try, sweetheart? Think knowing my true name will get you anywhere?"

Fingers danced across his stomach, light and taunting until they reached the waistband of his jeans, only stopping when they had intertwined themselves into his belt loops.

"Do it," he heard breathed against his neck, his skin prickling under its heat, "Try to harness War and see what you get."

"Alfred," Matthew warned, his own fingers sliding over the taunt abdominal muscles that hovered over him, tongue thick as the teeth moved from his neck to nip at his lower lip.

His hips arched up, drawn forward with the force of Alfred's pull, bringing them closer for a second before they fall away. Matthew reached up, hands pressing into and around Alfred's shoulder, trying to bring him down. To ground him.

The sound of the door being thrown open broke them apart, Matthew huffing quietly while Alfred glared at the entrance over his shoulder in annoyance.

"Sup, Red! I heard that you were here, and decided to grace you with my awesome!"

"Pride! Sup bro!" Alfred cheered, leaning back and flashing 'Pride' with a bright smile that had Matthew rolling his eyes.

"You here to join? We could make this the party of the century." The demon stepped around the chair and into Matthew's line of view, snowy white like anthrax, and just as deadly.

"Tryin', bro. I'm so bored." Alfred motioned to someone still out of Matthew's sight, "That one yours?"

"Yeah. Ludwig, this is Red. Red, this is Ludwig."

Matthew jerked and pushed against Alfred's thighs, "Get off," he whispered harshly, feeling his blood tingle as his magic reacted to the threat.

Alfred grinned down at him then slowly slid off, going to stand beside the Sin that watched them through glittering red eyes.

"How did you get stuck with this one, birdie? You don't seem like a proper match; I'd put you with Sloth myself."

Matthew shrugged, ignoring the low threatening sound that vibrated from Alfred's chest, "I always pictured myself as a more low level guy."

"Not with that amount of blood on ya. Sloth may be a better fit, but I can see why Red likes you so much," the demon's eyes practically glowed, "We could have done great things, you and I. But I got this guy, and I'm not giving him up just yet."

"Pride," Ludwig spoke up at last, his deep voice seeming to echo in the room, "We came here to talk, not to pick a fight with War."

"What do you want, then?" Matthew asked, voice hard as his blood burned, trying to crawl its way out.

"Come back to the war, Williams. We could use you, and your magic is not going to stay stable if you keep suppressing it like this. Arthur has told me you've been getting twitchy."

"No," he said firmly.

"Yes."

"Alfred," he growled, spinning around then stopped when the blue eyes held him in place, boring into him with their intensity.

"You can't contain war," Alfred drawled lazily, eyes half-mast and teeth glittering under a thin grin, "You can try, but it will eventually break free. Here or there, your choice."

"Fine," Matthew choked, hatred burning cold in his gaze as he met those of the three around him, "Send me the orders and I'll move out."

Ludwig nodded, no motion breaking the mask he had in place, "Get ready to move out by next week."

"Not sure why you're so pissed, bro. You're doing great out there."

Matthew looked up with stinging eyes, leveling a bloodshot glare at his familiar, "Fuck. You."

"Now, now," Alfred's cooed, crouching down over his legs while Matthew watched warily from his lounging point on the bed, "Do you really want that?"

"If only I thought you wouldn't enjoy it," he growled, ignoring his quickened heartbeat sudden shortness of breath, "I'm supposed to be resting, you know. Someone had me working double time after a long leave of absence."

"Well then," Alfred grinned, getting up to rifle through on of the bags on the floor, "Let's take care of that then. Strip and roll over."

Matthew remained stubbornly where he was, "Not a chance."

"Matthew," the demon purred, closing in on him and surrounding him with the smell of dirt, "Strip and roll over."

His sweat soaked shirt slowly pulled away from his body, catching on his glasses when he raised it over his head. Alfred watched from the edge of the bed, gaze flowing over his body and darkening like a soot filled sky,

"All of it."

Matthew rolled his eyes and pushed his pants down, jumping when calloused fingertips grazed over his hips to pull his boxer briefs down,

"Patience," he snapped, slapping at Alfred's hand and taking over the removal of his last piece of clothing, "What now?"

"Roll over."

The bed dipped, creaking as Matthew did as he was told and Alfred settled over him. The rough scratch of cotton teased his skin, rubbing against him under the weight of the too warm body. Outside, bombs exploded in a muted symphony, accompanied by the static of gunfire and the unsteady hum of magic.

Fingers slid along his back, slick with sandalwood scented oil that burrowed beneath his skin. Thumbs pressed down, pushing the knots into eased submission, and tense muscles were soothed into sleep.

"Feels like you needed this," Alfred murmured over his shoulder, the 6 o'clock shadow brushing against his cheek. Matthew grunted, only opening his eyes to glance back when the hands neared the small of his back.

"Alfred," he warned, the name cutting off to a low keening sound when the demon nipped at his neck, his hips jerking against the bed and up into the crux of Alfred's thighs.

"Easy now, sweetheart," Alfred purred again over the soft pop of a cap being flipped open, withdrawing to sit straight, "Just let me have this."

Matthew snorted, the sound muffled in the pillows, before flipping over and sitting up, catching Alfred's gaze and holding it. Slowly he reach up, pressing his fingertips against the cold metal of Alfred's glasses, dragging them down the demon's nose before folding them up and putting them down gently on the floor beside them.

"Is this you repentance for dragging me out here?" he asked gently, eyes searching for any type of lie. Alfred just grinned back, razor sharp and amused.

"This is my sin," the demon drawled, leaning down to lick the corner of Matthew's mouth, "This is my will," a gentle brush of incisors, "This is my realm."

Their lips met, hot and binding, prodding as they caressed. It was slow and lazy, an equal give and take that balanced out into a gentle rhythm. Matthew felt his glasses vanish as Alfred pulled back for a second, then heard them drop before cloth narrowed out his field of vision.

Alfred's shirt dropped, laying in a rumpled heap as their mouths came together again, tongue sliding in and across before tracing over every dent and groove. Hands settled on Matthew's hips, sliding to cup the back of his legs and pull him forward onto cotton covered thighs.

The gentle pop of a cap being opened barely registered until slick fingers worked their way under him, pressing against the sensitive flesh before working their way in. Matthew pulled out of the kiss, biting gently on Alfred's lip in warning, moving his head back with a low growl until his teeth lost their grip.

Alfred hummed beneath him, grinning up with a pleased expression as he crooked his fingers, his eyes glittering with approval when Matthew jerked then pressed back down.

Matthew's hand reached down between them, working the button free and pulling down the zipper one tooth at a time, palming his familiar's erection with teasing strokes as the fingers worked within him. He could feel the burn of his body stretching, and the slide of the oil that eased the way, the scent mixing in with the musk in the air.

"That's it, Mattie," Alfred whispered to him, the demon's free hand holding him steady as Matthew ground their hips together.

"Pants," Matthew huffed, abandoning Alfred's erection to pull the fabric down, bringing the boxers with them.

The rough jerk of the demon's hips pressed the fingers deeper, brushing against his prostate as he arched, rubbing his body against Alfred's torso.

"That's it, Mattie," Alfred whispered into his neck, tongue lapping up the sweat in broad strokes before applying pressure with his lips, "You ready for me?"

Matthew nodded, the faint buzz from the distant battle crawling up his back, his thrusts breaking pattern until Alfred steadied his hips with his left hand, the right gently gliding the demon inside.

"Breathe," he was told as he was slowly dipped back, his body curling up as the sheets rubbed against his sensitive skin. Alfred rubbed their faces together like a cat, burning them both as Matthew wrapped his arms around the broad shoulders.

Alfred kept a stead hand on his side, keeping them in time as he moved, slowly at first then faster and harder, going deeper with every push. Matthew panted, body arching and pressing closer as a hand wrapped around his erection, working it in time with their hips.

His feet pressed into the bedding, heels digging in until one leg moved up, wrapping itself around the demon before the other followed.

"That's it," Alfred chuckled, his voice sending jolts through Matthew's frayed nerves, "Show me."

Matthew almost chocked on air that flooded his lungs when he breathed in, legs tightening and locking them together as Alfred rocked within him. His eyes slid closed against the pressure, the pleasure that threatened to swallow him whole.

Heat centered in his lower abdomen, circling and growing with each thrust. His lips sought Alfred's, pulling him in with lips and teeth, breathing in the demon's essence until it became a part of him

His moan caught between their lips, muffling it as he came over Alfred's hand, spilling onto their stomachs. He could fell the stead pulse of Alfred inside of him as his body shuddered, milking out the demon's own orgasm as their tongued meshed together in a sloppy kiss.

Alfred's thrusts slowed to a stop, the demon's arms sliding to rest on either side of him, caging Matthew in a box of warmth and musk. Their lips parted, Alfred drawing back to watch him with hazy eyes, the blue irises now clear and vibrant behind dark eyelashes.

"Felling better?" the demon asked, making no sign of moving even when Matthew gave in the swarming feeling under his skin and started to twitch.

"I hate you," he swore silently, narrowing his eyes with halfhearted malice that intensified when Alfred just threw back his head and laughed.

"You don't know the meaning of that word, Mattie. Not yet."

Lips brushed against his cheek, followed by the harsh rub of stubble as the demon nuzzled into his neck.

"You're going to learn hatred, Mattie, and a whole lot more. I gotcha, and I ain't ever letting go.

"We're going to go far, babe. Just you, me, and forever."

I feel like the sex scene wasn't hot at all, but I'm too tired to be concerned right now Lazy sex 'cause I'm lazy and and out of sexy ideas. I at least remembered to take off their glasses...