Devout, p.15
Devout,
p.15
Gabriel sings as Tlāloc begins to rock forward, pushing in deeper than Gabriel knew his body extended. He can feel the god from where he entered him, up even past his belly, out his mouth, in his head, in his heart, in his hands. He tries to pull the other closer, wanting to be held, and Tlāloc obliges, losing the grip on Gabriel’s ankles to wrap his arms all around him, ruffling the feathers of wings splayed out beneath him. In return, Gabriel continues his little song, though it’s breathy and trembling with the weight of this — these quick, loud strikes into him, like thunder. Tlāloc, too, is the God of Storms; Gabriel remembers only vaguely.
Tlāloc, not long after, raises the angel, twists them both, though without daring to pull out from him; the god returns to his seat on the throne, the angel placed on his lap. Gabriel doesn’t mind, his hips shuddering in place before they nervously rise, lower. Flying, falling. Tlāloc is allowing him to lead, and Gabriel tries to keep up, as if to prove his worth. The sea of his hair, as if caught by wind, tussles and flails, as Tlāloc runs his hands all over him, squeezing, rubbing, groping tight. When he begins to thrust his own hips up into Gabriel, the angel moves opposite to him, meeting the god’s every attack with his own. Finally, Tlāloc silences Gabriel’s psalms with another kiss.
The first time, Gabriel reels back and cries loud, his entire body shaking, unfamiliar with the sensation of love he’s been taught never to have. All his wings stretch and flutter, he feels heat on him, and then, in him. His eyes are overcome with stars, stars that he thinks, momentarily, to be the culprit of the raging fever on his body. From his mouth, a soft, tender whisper, a beg, to be loved another time. Tlāloc lifts him, and then he travels with him, like before, but he brings him into a bedroom, where he places Gabriel over the raised mat, and then he throws himself over him again, has him again. Gabriel begs him never to stop, that he wants to do this for eternity, he’ll spend the rest of his infinite days here, he says. And it was so — for longer than a human can understand — that they were caught in a haze of love-making that Gabriel almost forgot that he’d ever been an angel. He only thinks of the new clothes he’ll don, and the new name he’ll adopt, as the consort of the God of Rain.
He’s not sure what kind of god he’ll be, but maybe he doesn’t need to decide. His Father never had, or maybe he’d forgotten if he ever had a purpose. Gabriel thinks that there’s so little that elderly man remembers now.
Exhaustion wears the gods out, but only after so many suns have risen and fallen that Gabriel has lost count. They collapse entangled onto the bed, in another haze, a different fog of love, and they kiss again, but lazily. Even now, they haven’t grown tired of touching each other, and Gabriel thinks that maybe they never will, and he smiles and kisses each jewel engraved on the face of his husband.
He mumbles, “I will never leave you. I belong to you now. And you belong to me. If I’m without you, I’ll go dry like a river and all the plants that drink from me will wither.”
Tlāloc brings his head to Gabriel’s chest, and he mumbles against him, “You said you would return to your Father, after this. Have you changed your mind, my love?” One of his hands goes to Gabriel’s hip, skims to his waist, his belly, pats him there.
Distantly, Gabriel smiles, though he worries. “Do you have any empty rooms in your paradise?”
“There are too many to count, but if you need even more, I’ll have all the spirits of my paradise build another hundred, another thousand.”
“I’d like to bring my Father here,” Gabriel states, putting his own hand over Tlāloc’s. “He’ll have no choice. He doesn’t know how to care for himself. He’s so old, and if he’s dying, then I want his last days to be in this paradise of yours that’s true and beautiful and kinder.” He hesitates. “But maybe coming here, seeing you and I, will make him remember to live again. I hope that he remembers love, too, at least for his children. I love him too much, you see. I always have.”
Contributors
Tyler Battaglia is a queer and disabled horror and dark fantasy author. He is interested in the intersections of monsters and horror with queerness and disability. Tyler lives in Ottawa, Canada, with his partner and their grumpy cat. He can be found on Twitter at @whosthistyler, hosting the prompt event #Saturdark. Find more at www.tylerbattaglia.com.
Morgan Dante is the author of the MMF paranormal romance novella A Flame In The Night. They have a soft spot for all things dark and gothic, especially vampires and an array of castle-dwelling monsters. They’ve never written an angel that they didn’t want to make at least a little weird-looking.
Daniel Marie James is a trans artist with a BA in Creative Writing and MFA in Book Art from Mills College. While he typically focuses on his long-form novels, he occasionally writes poetry focusing on trauma, and processing trauma through art.
Ian Haramaki is a gay, trans, and mixed Japanese author of fantasy, romance, and historical fiction based out of Colorado. He enjoys making fictional men kiss and living life as a tanuki. Most of his time is spent peddling dinosaur merchandise to nerds at fan conventions. His Twitter is @cometkins.
Emily Hoffman is an actor, writer, and was once described as a ‘cryptid enthusiast’ by TMZ and Newsweek. She holds a degree in theatre and playwrighting, and can commonly be found giving haunted pub tours or running scavenger hunts though Pike Place Market. She’s pleased to have found her way back to writing, and to be included in a publication with such outstanding people.
Quinton Li (they/them) is a Melbourne-based non-binary novelist, poet and fiction editor. Their debut novel, Tell Me How It Ends, is a cozy coming-of-age fantasy novel with a queer & diverse cast, tarot cards and witches. Their poetry can be found with Panorame Press, Messy Misfits Club and Iris Youth Magazine. Find more at quintonli.com.
Aurélio Loren is a queer, disabled author who focuses on the intersection of queerness and horror. The grotesque, the chilling, and the ominous are all things that can be found in his work. They are on Twitter at @swampeddddd.
Freydís Moon (they/él/ella) is an internationally bestselling author, diviner, poet, and creator, writing love stories in the Fantasy, Horror, and Speculative categories. Fond of culture, mysticism, history, and language, they constantly find themself lost in a book, trying their hand at a new recipe, or planning a trip to a faraway place.
Rafael Nicolás is the author of Angels Before Man (2023) and other queer fiction. He likes being gay.
Rae Novotny (any pronouns) is a novelist, angel liker, and spec fic sucker from the U.S. South. She is best known for posting infrequent illustrations of man tits on Twitter @fathommore.
Alex Patrascu is a graphic designer who accidentally learned about words. When not snacking on sans serif fonts, she can be found reading a copious amount of books or drawing art of the various characters that haunt her mind. Check out her work at apatrascu.com.
Angela Sun is a writer with an interest in the ugly and the divine. Her poetry can be found in Squawk Back, Heavy Feather Review, and “Summer Gothic” by Panorame Press. She can be found on twitter as @blessphemey.
Cas Trudeau is a graduate of Carnegie Mellon University with a MA in Literary and Cultural Studies. Their writing explores the symbolization of memory, the joy of gender enfleshment, and queerness in southern settings.
When he’s not outside hunting for trinkets and foraging for snacks, Dorian Yosef Weber writes adult fiction at the intersections of his queerness, disability, and Jewish identity. He is particularly passionate about creating representation in fiction of his Orthodox siblings and depicting disabled and queer trauma, fight, love, and home.
reprint
Angel at Harvest Church originally appears on Freydís Moon’s Medium at https://freydismoon.medium.com/on-a-sweltering-sunday-morning-an-angel-hollers-versus-from-behind-a-sturdy-pul-pit-your-father-5a4632c4a112.
Quinton Li, Devout
