One-line summary: The story of the Kingdom of Heaven's perennial runner-up turning the tables
Michael was Heaven's famous perennial runner-up.
People were always comparing him to Heaven's number one. They said he wasn't as handsome or gentle, and certainly not as dazzling and radiant.
Even when he was munching on a sweet potato, someone would jump in to say he lacked number one's graceful bearing and composed elegance.
Michael: ...
Michael: Keep this up and I'm going to get mad!
Everyone: See? See? We told you his temper was worse than number one's!
...Fine.
Then even that trash God told him, "Michael, you'll never measure up to him. The way you jump around trying to take his place is just pathetic."
Michael was absolutely furious.
I'd worked for you for nothing all these years, and this is what you have to say to me?! Well, then, goodbye!
He tossed aside the quill that marked him as Heaven's vice-regent, drew his sword, severed his wings, and flung back everything his master had given him: his power, glory, and divinity. Then he fell from Heaven.
One day, the former number one of Heaven, utterly bewildered, discovered someone standing on his demon lord's throne. Black hair, red eyes, and a gaze that looked down on him as though blood were flowing in its depths.
Lucifer: What do you want?
The newcomer opened his mouth, his lips red as if he'd drunk his fill of blood. "I want to do you."
A story where everyone ends up eating their words.
The vice-regent is the bottom. The top can love whoever he wants.
