4. 4

4

Oren

“ G ive me a sec to answer some questions, and then we’ll go,” Luc said, unlinking their arms and walking into the throng of demons who had stuck around to talk to him.

Oren nodded, crossing the hands still holding the makeshift lead in front of him and rocking on his heels. He hummed to himself to pass the time, feeling Beast settle by his feet to lie down with a grumble and a hiss of fire.

Demons of all shapes and sizes stared at him unabashedly as they exited, muttering among themselves in languages Oren had no hope of placing. He wondered if there was some kind of book that could help him learn. Did they even have a library here?

He settled for waving at them as they walked out for the time being, but he was jostled from behind, his glasses nearly jostled straight off his face.

He turned to see that a huge, squat creature with a massive skull the size of a rhino’s had just headbutted him. It was kind of humanoid in shape other than the head—arms and legs accounted for, at least—but its eyes were narrowed slits of burning orange and its skin was mottled purple. What really stood out about the thing though, were the thousands of teeth it had on display—three inches long and with no lips to cover them. Teeth it was picking casually with a carved bone that looked like it had once been a human femur.

Hardly hygienic.

“Have flesh in teeth?” it suddenly asked him, its words slurred and barely discernible.

“Umm… no, you’re good,” Oren said, eyeing the rows on rows of serrated fangs and thinking immediately of a shark. “Maybe flossing would be better than human bones?”

“Floss?” it asked, tilting its massive head.

“Like… string, that’s thin enough to slip between and… you know,” Oren said, finishing with a hand motion.

“Barbed wire will work?” it asked, watching the sawing and clearly getting the wrong idea.

“No, no, no, you can’t use that!”

“But I like,” it said, its eyes glowing brighter, which Oren took to mean it was scowling at him.

“Won’t it hurt?” he asked, concerned.

“Hurt?” It sounded offended now, stomping away in a huff. “Barbed wire floss. I use.”

“Sorry!” Oren called after it, wincing.

“Don’t mind him, Pinkie,” a sinister voice drawled at his ear.

He snapped his head to the right to find himself staring straight into laughing red eyes above small, sharp teeth.

“Yeah, Pinkie. He’s known to be a grump,” said a similar but raspier voice from the other side, and Oren turned to see the exact same eyes and dangerous smile on his left.

Mirrors.

From the velvet skin as black as coal to the long hair as white as snow falling messily around red horns that pointed straight up. Smaller protrusions of horns were scattered over their bodies, roadmaps over their skin highlighting the fact that they really were only wearing some jewelry and a single scrap of clothing. Small gold loincloths that had some sort of rune design on them dipped in the middle and split up the sides, leaving their hipbones bare except for a few ornate chains.

They were pretty… in a totally fucked-up, I-will-eat-your-soul-and-bathe-in-your-blood way. Not as huge and intimidating as most of the demons around them in either height or build, but they exuded danger of their own variety. Something slithering and quiet.

There were so many demons in the meeting that it was hard to place everyone. Looking at them all was sensory overload. But now Oren didn’t think he could forget this pair.

“Um… hello.” He looked back and forth between them. “Nice to meet you. My name is Oren.”

“Hmm, I can’t see anything,” the one on the left said, pawing at his clothing and then his glasses.

The other ran pointed nails through his hair, picking at the strands. “No. I can’t see what he sees. Just very pink…”

“…and cheerful,” the first demon said, sounding grossed out.

“Anything I can help you with?” Oren asked, not knowing what to do about those four hands, and were those tails joining in?

“AZOTH! TARIK!” Luc boomed, and the room shook, debris falling down around them.

The twins scattered in an instant, twining their tails together and scurrying from the room. Luc stomped over in their wake, his eyes like blazing pools.

“They weren’t hurting me.” Oren tilted his head. “I don’t know what they were doing, honestly.”

“Those two are troublemakers.” Luc scowled. “Whatever it was, they probably had an agenda.”

“I think they’re nice,” Oren said with a sure nod.

“Why am I not surprised,” Luc muttered under his breath.

“They gave me a nickname already,” he said happily. He’d never had a nickname in his life. He didn’t know what it meant, of course, but he wasn’t going to let that spoil his mood.

Luc raised a brow. “What nickname?”

“Pinkie.”

Luc snorted, his mouth curling up at the corners as his eyes ran over Oren. He shook his head and met Oren’s gaze again. “Just… try to avoid them.”

Oren pouted a little.

Luc rolled his eyes in response. “You ready to go?”

Oren brightened. “Absolutely!”

Like Luc had told Zorun, he didn’t take Oren to the deeper levels of Hell. He wanted to keep it ‘light.’ So there was only mild horrific screaming echoing through the hallways, the rivers of blood were only ankle deep, and the fires were a mellow inferno.

Oren took it all in with morbid fascination, wishing he had a pen and pad to jot things down.

The whole system needed an overhaul. He could see how the torturing could be streamlined for quicker turnover. He asked a million questions, and Luc stared at him strangely but answered them all.

When Beasty started to get cranky they decided to call a halt. There were only so many times he could tell him, ‘no, you’re not allowed to eat the sinners’ before those puppy-dog eyes got to him.

When they got back to Luc’s room, there was a huge multicolored pile sitting in the middle of the floor. Oren recognized it immediately and unclipped Beast hastily to rush over.

“What did he do, empty the bags all over the floor?” Luc grumbled. “And why is there so much ?”

“I asked him for options,” Oren said, joyously sifting through his belongings, not even caring that Zorun hadn’t placed them nicely.

Also, ‘options’ to Zorun seemed to be ‘take everything Oren owns,’ which he wasn’t going to complain about. It wasn’t like he had bequeathed his closet to anyone in his last will and testament.

“How long do you think you’ll be staying here?” Luc asked. “You know they can make you anything you want Upstairs. Paradise comes with amenities.”

“I like my things,” Oren said, hugging his favorite bowtie to his chest.

Luc massaged his temples with his claws, but clearly decided to let it go. Instead, he walked over to his desk where a couple of metal cloches were sitting. “You want some food, hon?”

Oren stretched his neck out to see, wondering what constituted food in Hell.

Something red and pulsing was revealed on the plates.

“I’m good.” Oren gagged slightly, grateful he didn’t actually have to eat. “Maybe tomorrow.”

“Your loss.”

“Can I hang these up?” Oren asked.

Luc nodded, waving a hand absently as he stuffed his face, gripping the pulsating flesh in his fist and ripping into it with his teeth while Beast sniffed and begged around his ankles.

Oren gathered armfuls of his things, making the trek back and forth to the closet. Once he’d moved everything, he hummed to himself, looking for a spot. If he just relocated the leather harnesses…

Time flew by like that, Oren getting into the zone as he redesigned the entirety of the wardrobe. Because once he moved one thing, another thing seemed displaced, and it was just plain rude to leave it like that. Also, Luc didn’t have as much stuff as he did, and leather harnesses didn’t really wrinkle, so they could be… squished. A bit.

“You ever going to come out of there? It’s getting late.” Luc’s voice broke into his mania.

Oren stepped back from color-coordinating his ties and viewed the progress he’d made. The whole closet had been divided down the middle. Well, Oren’s half was a bit bigger. Luc’s side was full of leather and black and chains, and Oren’s had the start of pretty pastels and bowties.

They looked good next to each other, the sight making a blush rise to Oren’s face for some reason.

Oren stepped out to see that the lights in the room had been dimmed, only the flicker of actual fire torches bathing the room in an orange glow. Beast was his own bright spot in the room, napping at Luc’s feet underneath the desk, an empty plate next to his head.

“I finished my paperwork, so I was going to turn in,” Luc said. “I made the sofa up for you already.”

Oren looked that way and smiled shyly. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure, hon.” Luc rose to his feet, stretching out his wings. They were so big they nearly touched the other wall.

Luc let out a contented grunt as he retracted them, walking over to a plain wall. He pushed at the stone, and a crack appeared before it swung inward. A door.

“Bathroom is through here. Knock yourself out.”

Oren ducked back into the closet to rummage for some pajamas. They were a short, bright pink set with a Peter Pan collar. He walked out and stopped short.

Gone were the leather trench coat and leather trousers. Luc had his back to him, climbing into that monstrously huge bed, completely naked. Oren’s mouth went dry as he watched that tail swinging over a tight ass and powerful thighs. All he could see was miles of smooth red skin, and his body reacted immediately. He had never been so viscerally turned on in his entire life.

He glanced up in a daze and saw Luc staring straight back at him. Oren might have squeaked and run for the bathroom.

He slammed the door behind him and panted. He heard laughter on the other side of the wall and blushed the color of his pajamas. It sounded… flirtatious, and Oren kicked himself mentally.

Everyone knew you ran toward the dick, not away from it.

“This is why you’re a virgin,” Oren muttered to himself.

Oren snapped himself out of it, glancing around the bathroom. There was a huge hole in the ground, looking like a hot spring of some kind, full of steaming water that smelled faintly of sulfur. It was almost tempting enough to slip straight into. Certainly big enough for two. The sink and toilet were Luc-sized and ornately carved with demonic designs, and a large mirror sat on one wall.

Oren hurried through a quick refresh and shimmied into his pajamas, then removed his glasses. The heat on the bare skin of his legs made them prickle, and he rubbed them together before cracking the door open.

Maybe his luck was good, and Luc would be waiting on the bed for him, chains in hand, ready to ravish him beyond ravishing.

But no naked devil lay waiting.

Pouting, he tiptoed out into the room that was even darker than before. Only a single torch by Luc’s bed was still lit and flickering. Luc was a large lump under the ornate red and gold cover, and Beast was nowhere to be seen—probably back where Oren had first found him.

Oren crept across the floor, the bathroom door falling shut behind him and really plunging the room into darkness. He took his place on the huge sofa that was more like a double bed and pulled the cover over him, noting it smelled faintly mildewy. Better than brimstone, though.

“Good night,” Luc said, sounding exhausted. He reached a clawed hand over and doused the torch flame with his hand, showing no sign that it hurt.

And then it was pitch-black.

Oren had never experienced darkness so all-encompassing. There wasn’t even a hint of light. It was like being suddenly thrust into a void, where light came to die. He felt a stab of anxiety and tried to push it down. What was the point in being afraid of the dark when he was dead?

Lying on his back, he stared in the direction of the ceiling, his mind still running a mile a minute.

“How can you tell it's night when there’s no sun here?” he asked.

“Go to sleep, Oren.”

“But—”

“Sleep.”

Oren sighed, squeezing his eyes shut and readjusting his position.

Just don’t think about it , he coached himself. You’re sleeping in the same room as the devil. Nothing is scarier than that.

Oren could feel the darkness pressing down on him, like a living thing slithering over his skin. He pulled the sheet over his head and gritted his teeth. He tried to breathe deeply to calm his racing heart, tried to think bright, sunny, happy thoughts.

But there was never-ending darkness surrounding him and no light, and he was beginning to panic.

He poked his head out of the cover and smothered a whimper. There were things moving in the dark, he just knew it. Things that wanted to wrap him up and suffocate him.

He rolled off the sofa and rushed to the bed, wasting no time climbing up onto it. When he looked up, he saw a single eye staring straight at him, the faint yellow glow soothing instead of scary. Oren inched closer, wanting to be bathed in it rather than deal with the oppressive gulf of blackness yawing behind him. Any embarrassment was worth that.

“You’re sitting on my wing, hon,” Luc told him, and Oren jumped hearing it.

He looked down and flushed, feeling along the ridges of the leathery wing under his ass. He scooted off quickly. “Sorry.”

Luc didn’t say anything, just opened both eyes to a lazy half-mast and stared straight at him.

Oren bit his lip and whispered, “Can I sleep here?”

“Swapping beds after all?”

“No,” Oren said quickly, then swallowed, plucking at the cover by Luc’s hip. “With you. Can I sleep here with you?”

Luc moved so suddenly Oren barely had time to take a startled breath. He was on his back with Luc hovering over him in an instant, one arm braced by the side of his head and hot breath washing over his face.

“You wanna sleep with the devil, hon?”

Oren felt his hips twitch involuntarily, and a whimper caught in his throat as all fear vanished in an instant, to be replaced by bright and burning want. “Yes.”

A nose brushed up against his. “Why’s that?”

“I’m… um… I’m…” Oren could barely think straight, wanting to reach up and pull Luc down on top of him. He wanted to feel that weight and grind into it.

Luc’s chest rumbled with his laugh, and he pressed his nose into Oren’s cheek. “What was that?”

“I’m scared of the dark,” Oren blurted out.

Luc froze for a second, pulling back to pin him in place with those burning eyes that lit up the small area around them. “The dark?”

Oren nodded meekly.

“All the things you’ve seen today. All the places you’ve been. Being in actual Hell with the devil and demons and hellbeasts… and it’s the dark you’re scared of,” Luc said.

“It’s very dark.”

Luc snorted, then a slow smile crawled onto his face as he trailed two claws down Oren’s arm. “Well, I wouldn’t want you to be scared.”

It was laced with innuendo. Dripping with it.

Oren bit his lip, his worries evaporating under the heat of Luc’s body. He could already feel beads of sweat beginning to form, making him itch to strip down to bare skin.

He reached up and placed both hands on Luc’s chest, seeing how small they looked in comparison. It seemed like they couldn’t fit together, but Oren wanted to find out if they could. He wanted to test every limit and boundary. He’d always been starved in this way, but he didn’t think he’d ever felt as hungry as he was right now.

Oren’s eyes flicked down to Luc’s mouth, and he watched with bated breath as a hint of that forked tongue darted out to wet his lips. Oren licked his own in response, his stomach lighting up with heat as he watched Luc get closer. Oren slid his hands up, grasping what he could of Luc’s shoulders, eyelashes fluttering and lips puckering as he felt that hot breath tingle against his lips…

When Beast suddenly pounced on the bed, it jostled them apart well and truly, and the hellbeast made a home for himself right between them.

“Beast,” Luc growled.

Oren wanted to be mad too as the moment evaporated, but he couldn’t find it in himself. He reached out and petted Beasty’s head. “Were you lonely? Or maybe scared of the dark too, little Beasty?”

Luc groaned at the baby talk and flopped onto his back. “Beast, down.”

The hellbeast grumbled and hissed, only moving to the bottom of the bed, where he settled against their feet.

“One day with you and he’s already disobeying me,” Luc grumbled.

“He just wants some love.” Oren wiggled his toes against the heat radiating from the hellbeast’s body. He scooched closer to Luc and the similar heat he put off.

Luc glanced at him from the corner of his eye. “I think you and that hellbeast have a lot in common.”

Oren flushed. “Maybe.”

Luc snaked an arm around his waist and pulled him basically on top of his hard body. Oren gasped, wondering if the moment wasn’t quite as lost as he’d thought, but Luc didn’t do anything else. He simply sighed, his chest heaving Oren up and down, and relaxed into the mattress, seemingly to sleep.

Oren wiggled a little to find a good spot, settling his head in the large dip of Luc’s clavicle and curling his arms and legs against him. It was devastatingly comfortable. One leathery wing wrapped around his waist, and Oren found his eyelids beginning to droop. The insane craving he’d felt for Luc all day drained away, and all he felt was safe. Protected by the devil himself.

He drifted off feeling a hand petting his hair.