Chapter 8

Eight

"Who the fuck is the freaky goth twink in your apartment, Jon?" Marcus sneered as he stomped over.

Beel just smiled, leaned against the doorframe leading into the bedroom, and crossed his arms. Assholes like Marcus hated when they didn't get to people, and Beel wouldn't give him the satisfaction of responding to the guy's insults. Although, really, having a few piercings, some gauges in your ears, and a couple tattoos was not "goth," but he didn't expect Marcus to have a clue.

"I'm talking to you, bitch," Marcus threatened as he reached Beel, leaning over him.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I thought you were asking Jon a question. A question he clearly refused to answer. If you're asking me, I'll tell you that I'm the cute, sexy guy that Jon brought home for the night. There were quite a few of us vying for his attention—the sexy nerd aesthetic is very in, you know, and Jon is fucking smoking hot—but I was the lucky winner. He was looking for a fun evening since he said that his last lover wasn't very… satisfying," Beel smirked, looking Marcus up and down.

Beel looked over at Jon, who was still staring, totally confused and shocked. Poor guy had no survival instinct at all. Thank demons Beel was here. Jon wasn't even calling the cops when a guy in underwear just appeared in his apartment, nevermind the psycho ex showing up.

Beel lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper as he looked back at Marcus. "He said his previous lover never gave him that many orgasms or even knew how to please a guy. But then, seeing as you look like a selfish prick, I'm really not very surprised."

Huh. Beel didn't know that humans could turn that shade of red. It was almost purple. He sort of expected steam to start coming out of the guy's ears, like some cartoon character.

"You little shit," Marcus growled, and then—finally—came the punch Beel had been waiting for.

Which he deftly ducked under, so that the muscled idiot punched the door frame with all his might.

The guy shrieked in pain and grabbed his hand, stepping back from Beel. He probably had a few broken bones. Oops.

"See, your first mistake was being a dick to Jon and letting him go. He's too good for you, and you knew it, so you tried to break him down. But he knows better now, and you are never getting back into his life," Beel explained.

Apparently muscled Marcus wasn't feeling that explanation, however, because he charged at Beel.

Yeah, yeah, he could've just moved out of the way. But he did feel bad that Jon was already gonna have to deal with a damaged door frame, so instead he reached out and grabbed Marcus by the neck before the guy could make contact.

It took everything in him not to squeeze until the guy's head popped like a cherry tomato. But Jon's apartment was so adorable and neat, and although his cute shop owner clearly loved colorful decorations, Beel didn't think he would count the blood of his ex as a decor choice.

Beel leaned forward, watching as the guy gaped like a fish and struggled to breathe. Oh, how he just wanted to end the prick right now. He looked over at Jon, who still looked confused but not alarmed, and then he sighed. Clearly the guy who watched a horror movie through his fingers wouldn't do well with outright murder in his apartment. Such a shame.

Beel leaned in and whispered in Marcus's ear. "Listen to me, you self-centered prick, and listen carefully. Jon has moved on from you and your pathetic, insecure, bullying ways. He doesn't ever want to see you again. He doesn't ever want to hear from you again. I, however, have decided that he's a keeper, so I'm going to be watching, and listening, and waiting for you to show up or call. And if you do, I'm going to hunt you down, and then I'm going to peel the skin off your body while you plead for mercy. Do you understand me, Marcus?"

Marcus whimpered a bit. Beel wasn't sure if it was in agreement or if it was from the lack of oxygen. He shook the guy a little, then pulled him forward and blocked Jon's view of his face with the big guy's body. Beel lifted the muscled jerk up by the throat and stared into his eyes. He let his own eyes flare red and his black horns show for a split second, confident that Jon couldn't see, and growled low in his throat. "Do you understand me, Marcus?"

And then, ugh, gross… the guy peed himself.

Beel let go in disgust, and the big guy crumpled to the floor, the stain spreading out on his pants. Dammit, Beel hated dealing with bodily functions.

"Get out," Beel commanded. "NOW!" he added, shouting, because the human's whimpering was a bit loud.

Marcus managed to scrape himself off the floor and flee out the door, leaving it open behind him. Beel just looked down at where he had fallen. Not too much pee—luckily the guy's pants had soaked most of it up.

He looked up at Jon, who was still standing in the same place, looking completely shocked.

"You got any paper towels?" Beel inquired. Gabe had taught him manners, after all. The least he could do was help with clean up, since it was technically his fault.