17. Burning in Gluttony

Chapter seventeen

Burning in Gluttony

"No, not that one," Gem said as Oliver tried on the third shirt he'd brought from home. "Not sexy enough."

Huffing, Oliver removed the shirt and slumped. "I don't want to look particularly sexy. I'm not trying to hook-up, remember?"

"Sure, but you and Liel aren't exclusive, and there's nothing wrong with flirting and dancing with a hot person. I mean, don't you want free drinks?" Gem waved over his outfit—a short skirt that barely covered his ass and a bright orange tube-top, with another pair of dangerously high heeled boots. "Look at this masterpiece. I'm gonna get so much dick."

"I don't want dick," Oliver whined.

"Ugh, fine, whatever. Put on whatever sad single-boy-who-lives-in-his-gammy's-basement outfit you want." Turning to the mirror on the wall, Gem continued dusting the skin around his eyes with orange and yellow powder.

With a pout, Oliver picked the green t-shirt, holding out hope that Jude wasn't wrong about his eyes having some sort of hazel in them. "I don't live in my grandma's basement."

Gem sucked on his teeth. "But you are sad and single, so…"

"Maybe not for long," Oliver bit back as he tugged the shirt down his torso. "And these are my favorite jeans. They make my ass look good."

With his lower hand, Gem made a circle motion with two fingers without looking away from the mirror. "I'll be the judge of that."

Obeying the unspoken command, Oliver spun in a slow circle and Gem hummed.

"You're right; those do make your ass look good. Wow, I never noticed before, but your ass is nice. Have you been doing your squats?" Oliver flipped him off, and he laughed. "I'm serious. It's a good ass. I'd snack on it."

"Really?"

Gem stepped back and inspected his make-up job in the mirror and shrugged. "Objectively, yes. Snackable ass."

Snickering, Oliver ran a hand through his hair and shook it out. "I mean, thanks. It doesn't hold a candle to your ass, though."

"Oh, honey, very few things in this life do." He shimmied and slapped his left butt cheek. "It's pretty much my best feature."

"Huh, I've always liked your eyes."

Two hands pressed to Gem's chest as he simpered. "Aw, Ollie. You're so sweet you're gonna give me a toothache." Then he swooped in and enveloped Oliver in a tight embrace. "You're my most favorite human."

"Thanks, Gem," Oliver wheezed, patting his back. "You're my favorite Araknis."

"You're godsdamned right I am," he whispered intensely before releasing Oliver with a pinch of his cheek.

A knock sounded at Gem's door, and he practically danced across the apartment to open it. "Hey, Rus, we're just about ready. How do I look?"

He went through a series of poses as Rusty hovered awkwardly on the threshold, a bushy brow slowly arching. "Uh… slutty?"

"That's exactly what I was going for! Thank you," Gem sang with a twirl, causing his skirt to flare. It gave Oliver and Rusty a glimpse of his dark gray ass cheeks peeking out from under a white, lacy pair of underwear.

Oliver chuckled. Rusty's pale eyes widened and he looked away, one of those uncomfortable chittering noises scraping his throat.

"Much to Gem's disappointment, I am not going for slutty," Oliver said in hopes of alleviating his discomfort.

"It's a nice shirt," Rusty said.

"Thank you, Rusty," Oliver said with a significant look at Gem.

The Araknis wrinkled his small nose. "Coming from Rusty, it's not much of a compliment. He wears the same thing every time." He gestured to Rusty's baggy, black jeans and no-shirt ensemble. "Granted, it totally works for him, but there's just no creativity."

Scratching his furry chest, Rusty sighed wearily, like he was already exhausted by the night's events. "Who else is meeting us here?"

"No one. Toni, Zef, and Willow are meeting us at the club. And Tad will show up when she feels like it."

"What about Jude?" Rusty asked.

"He has a final paper due, so he locked himself in his room to work," Oliver said.

"Ah, sounds more fun than what we're doing," Rusty said dryly.

"You know what?" Gem tucked his phone and I.D. card into his boot and gave Rusty a chiding frown. "You should really start channeling your kindred spirit, Cheer Bear. You'd make more friends. Maybe even get laid."

As Gem patted his head, Rusty growled ferociously. "I'm not interested in any of those things, and if you mention that fucking bear again—"

Cupping Rusty's face, Gem squished it until his mouth puckered into fish lips. "Oh, sweetheart, I am literally just getting started."

"Don't call me sweetheart! " Rusty yowled, batting Gem's hands away as the spider demon guffawed.

"Okay, bitches, let's get some dick!" Gem said as he swung open his front door. His beaming smile dimmed as he took in Oliver and Rusty and their combined lack of enthusiasm. "And by bitches, I guess I mean me. Because of this whole"—he waved at them vaguely—"sad situation. Gods, where is Toni? He knows how to match my energy."

Forty minutes later, Oliver was following Gem and Rusty off the tram. Toni and Zef were already there, Toni in his new vest—with nothing underneath—and a pair of tight pants. Zef, as always, looked like a 90's lesbian, yet they managed to pull off the look.

"Willow's in line at the club, saving our spot," Toni said as Gem spun into his side. "Look at you, sexy. You're so getting fucked tonight."

"You think so?" Gem asked hopefully.

Toni nodded. "Dressed like that, even I'd fuck ya."

"Aw, you're too much." Gem plopped a wet kiss on Toni's cheek before he snapped numerous fingers and pointed down the street. "Let's go!" he ordered like a general leading his men to war, and everyone fell into step behind him.

"You look nice, Zef," Oliver said, and the Mantodea glanced down at their outfit.

"I do like this shirt, but some days, the fabric makes my nerves itchy. I was happy that today was not one of those days," Zef said with a small smile.

Oliver nodded. "C-cool? I mean, yeah, it's a nice shirt."

"As is yours. It compliments your eyes. Very aesthetically pleasing."

"Careful, Zef, you're gonna make me blush," Oliver teased, but Zef's thin brows furrowed.

"Why?"

Rusty snorted but covered it with a cough. Oliver stammered a moment before shaking his head. "Uh, you know what? Never mind. Thank you for the compliment."

Zef dipped their chin. "You are welcome. Compliments can lead to complicated situations, but I do like them when they are platonically intended."

At this point, Rusty was fully laughing into his hand, and Oliver subtly punched his shoulder to shut him up. "For sure. It can be hard to know when it's platonic or flirtatious."

"Yes," Zef said, tone tinged in relief. "I once was having a perfectly pleasant lunch with a new acquaintance, and I complimented his ensemble because it was pleasing to look at. He then said that his clothes would look better on my bedroom floor. Which did not make sense at all to me. If they were on my floor, no one would see them or be able to enjoy them.

"I told him that, and he laughed at me. Then he squeezed my thigh," Zef sighed mournfully. "It ruined my whole weekend."

"That's terrible," Oliver said, nearly reaching out a hand to pat their shoulder in comfort. He stopped himself at the last minute, fisting his hand at his side. "I'm sorry that happened, Zef. People should be able to compliment each other without it leading to anything."

Zef's shoulder rose and fell jerkily. "Or perhaps I am not good at compliments."

"I think you're great at compliments."

With a small smile, Zef tucked a chunk of hair behind their pointed ear. "Thank you, Oliver. As are you. I am glad we are friends."

And god, if that didn't punch a hole through Oliver's chest. "Me too, Zef."

"Get a room," Rusty muttered, and Oliver punched his shoulder again, harder this time.

They found Willow and joined her in line, ignoring the complaints and jeers of the demons waiting behind them. As they waited to gain entrance to the club, Oliver checked his phone, his chest warming when he saw a text from Liel waiting for him.

Guess who is home early?

The text was accompanied by a selfie of Liel in his apartment, holding the stolen laminator-label maker.

What? That's awesome! Welcome home. We just got to the club.

"Hey, squeeze in," Oliver said as he held out his phone.

"Let me." Gem took the phone and with his longer reach, managed to snap several selfies of their group.

Oliver sent the best one—where everyone but Rusty was smiling—to Liel.

Looks fun.

Would be better if you were here.

Let me shower and change into something more appropriate then.

Blinking down at his phone, nerves exploded in his stomach.

Wait, really? Are you sure you're not too tired?

Too tired to see you? No. Unless you'd rather enjoy your night with your friends without a plus-one?

No! Please come meet us. I want to see you!

Then I shall see you soon, darling.

"Liel's back and he's gonna meet us here." Oliver grabbed Gem's arm. "That's okay, right?"

"Um, of course!" Gem squeezed Oliver's hand. "You're so getting laid tonight."

With a blush, Oliver ran an anxious hand through his hair. "I mean, he's just coming to hang out with us."

"He's coming to see you, not us," Rusty said.

"Damn it, I should have worn something sexy," Oliver moaned, and Gem waved his hands.

"That's what I said! Why does no one listen to me?" Gem complained.

"Hey, fuckers!" Tad shouted from right beside Oliver, making him yelp in fright at her sudden appearance.

"Holy shit, where did you come from?" Oliver rubbed a hand over his chest. "Jesus Christ, Tad."

Her bulbous eyes blinked at him judgmentally. "You're jumpy."

"You snuck up on me," Oliver said defensively.

"Gotta keep you on your toes," she said with an evil grin, before she waddled over to Zef. "Hey, Zef. Bitchin' shirt."

"Thank you, Tad," Zef said with a pat to her bald head. "You look lovely as always."

Tad was wearing a spongy-looking onesie outfit, the color a mottled yellow that looked like vomit. But Oliver wasn't going to judge. Maybe it was top Anura fashion or something.

After sharing his location with Liel so he'd be able to find them, Oliver followed his friends into the club. The music was loud, and the lights flashed around them. Blacklights periodically washed over them, making the red swirls on Gem's skin and the lighter pink stripes of Rusty's fur glow. Even Zef's insectoid wings glowed subtly.

They stopped at the bar first and stood around a free table as they nursed their drinks. Gem and Toni were the first to run to the dance floor, grinding against each other as the beat dropped. Willow joined them soon after, boxing Gem in between her and Toni.

Zef swayed to their own beat, and once they'd finished their drink, they drifted to the edge of the crowd, four hands weaving lazily through the air. Oliver kept a sharp eye out, but no one tried to touch or dance up on them, giving them their space.

Either the clubbers were respectful of Mantodea culture, or they were just scared of Tad. She danced next to Zef; at least, she was trying to dance. It looked more like jerky, uncoordinated break dance moves. Or maybe she was having a seizure. It was hard to tell from where Oliver was standing.

Rusty and Oliver remained at the table, Oliver sipping a cocktail, Rusty drinking his usual tonic with kili fruit—whatever that was.

Leaning in to be heard over the music, Oliver asked, "You don't like to dance?"

Rusty shrugged noncommittally. "I mean, sure. I just don't really like crowds. People tend to… I dunno, pet me and stuff."

"Really? That's messed up," Oliver said.

"Eh, I'm either a pariah or I'm a pet," he muttered bitterly. "It's a roll of the dice."

Before Oliver could respond, Gem appeared, sweat already making his skin shiny as he shrieked, "Oh my gods, you two are so boring! Come dance. Now."

Without giving them a chance to refuse, Gem grabbed Oliver and Rusty by their wrists and dragged them into the dancing throng. Oliver nearly spilled his drink all over a short, pixie-looking demon. Rusty had the forethought to throw back the rest of his drink in one gulp before setting his glass—and Oliver's half-full one—on a passing tray.

"'Ey, there you are," Toni cheered as Oliver spun out of Gem's hold and into his. "Time to show us your moves, human."

"I don't have moves!" Oliver shouted over the music.

Toni just laughed before framing Oliver's hips and guiding him to move to the beat. As the songs bled together, Oliver gave himself over to the music. He wasn't a great dancer, but it didn't seem like anyone cared. If Tad, of all people, could dance with confidence, he could too.

So he did.

Even Rusty loosened up, taking Willow's hand and twirling the taller demon around. Gem and Toni squished Oliver between them, and Oliver held Gem's wide hips and let himself be moved by the motion of their bodies.

At some point, after Oliver was hot and sweaty, they ended up in a dance circle as Tad did her weird seizure breakdancing. Gem took her place and moved in ways that would make a stripper jealous. Toni did the demon version of the robot, and Zef twirled and waved their four hands, insect wings flaring and fluttering, catching the blacklights to highlight the hidden designs of their veins.

Then Rusty shoved Oliver into the center. He hesitated, unsure what to do, before shrugging and doing the sprinkler. He danced in all the silly human ways he knew, and they all cheered him on.

"K.O.! K.O.!" they chanted as Oliver did the running man.

Thankfully, they let him melt back into the group, his face flushed with embarrassment and pleasure in equal measure. Pressed close together, he felt more than heard Rusty growl, and he turned in time to see a passing demon yanking on his tail.

Before Oliver had a chance to step in, Gem was suddenly there, spinning into the space behind Rusty to continue dancing. He used two of his hands to shove the offending demon away, raising two middle fingers to flip the demon off. With his other arms, he loosely circled Rusty's shoulders and waist and leaned down to whisper in his ear.

Rusty's whiskers twitched madly, but he eventually nodded, relaxing into Gem's easy hold. Gem and Oliver made eye contact, and the demon winked. Then he jerked his head, gesturing behind Oliver. Oliver craned his neck over his shoulder to investigate, and nerves exploded in his gut as he met a pair of bright yellow eyes.

Liel stood near the bar, flat seaweed hair looking somehow windswept. He smiled, revealing sharp teeth, and Oliver's stomach clenched. With an absent wave at Gem, Oliver fought his way through the crowd until he was standing in front of the Gymnot.

"Hi," he shouted above the music.

"Hi," Liel said.

They stared at each other for a moment before they moved at the same time, Oliver hauling him into an embrace as Liel's arms circled his waist, hands fisting in the back of his sweaty shirt.

"I can't believe you're here," he said with a laugh, anxiety fluttering in his gut. "I missed you."

"I missed you too," Liel confessed, and Oliver's nerves melted away as quickly as they'd manifested.

They hugged for longer than was probably normal, but when Liel didn't try to pull away, Oliver didn't either. He tucked his face into Liel's neck, inhaling his metallic, storm cloud scent. A subtle charge was already buzzing over Oliver's skin from where Liel's hands pressed to his back, and Oliver shivered.

"Let me buy you that drink before the universe tries to fuck it up again," Oliver said in Liel's ear, and he felt more than heard the demon's laugh.

"Sounds good."

Pulling away, Liel twined his fingers with Oliver's, sending static crackling along Oliver's forearm until the hairs rose. It made every nerve ending in Oliver's body light up.

He led Oliver to the bar and ordered himself a drink. Oliver asked for bottled water. "You don't want anything else?" Liel asked, breath hot against Oliver's cheek.

Oliver shook his head. "I want to remember everything this time."

Liel's responding grin was half-feral. "I'll make sure it's a memorable night, then."

Drinks in hand, they made their way through the crowd, snagging an open spot at a standing table. Liel sipped at his pink drink through a straw, yellow fingers holding it steady as his cheeks hollowed. Oliver took a huge gulp of water to wet his suddenly dry throat.

"You look nice." Oliver dragged a finger down Liel's suspenders. The white button-up he wore was open at the throat, and Oliver tried not to stare at the exposed sandy-brown skin and failed. Liel was so inhumanly hot he felt incredibly inadequate standing next to him.

With a smirk, Liel glided his neon gaze down Oliver's frame, then back up. "You don't look too bad yourself."

"Gem helped pick out my outfit," he admitted, deciding to leave out the fact that Gem had been unimpressed by Oliver's choice in the end.

Liel laughed, though the sound was lost to the club. His teeth flashed under the lights, and Oliver wanted to know what they'd feel like against his neck. The thought sent goosebumps erupting over his skin.

Shifting closer, Liel pressed his shoulder to Oliver's and said, "Well, I'm grateful that I can benefit from the Araknis's expertise. You look positively edible."

"Did you forget to eat dinner again?" Oliver teased, and Liel slicked a yellow tongue along his teeth as he gave Oliver another sinful onceover.

"Trust me, darling, I'm ravenous for something else entirely."

"You're bold," Oliver teased.

Liel shrugged and took another sip of his drink. "I'm simply being transparent, though I hope you know I hold no expectations."

With a blush, Oliver brushed his knuckle along Liel's jaw. "Not all expectations are bad."

Capturing his hand, Liel brought his knuckles to his lips and kissed them sweetly. "I may hold certain hopes for tonight, but the most important is to simply spend time with you without a screen separating us."

His words sent Oliver's heart racing until it threatened to beat right out of his chest. He leaned down and pressed his forehead to Liel's, and the demon's eyes shuttered closed, lips tipping into a soft smile.

"I'm so glad you're here," Oliver said honestly.

"As am I," Liel agreed, one hand rising to cup Oliver's face. "Now," he said as he removed the straw from his drink and drained the rest of it in one go, "I insist you come dance with me."

"I'm not a good dancer," Oliver warned as Liel twined their fingers once again and guided him back to the dance floor.

"That's alright," Liel grinned darkly. "Just follow my lead."

The heat of the dancing throng enveloped Oliver, bathing him in a fresh layer of sweat instantly. Or maybe that was the heat of Liel's gaze setting him aflame from the inside out. He didn't care; he just wanted to burn.

Once they were lost in the crowd, Liel eased Oliver's arms around him until his back pressed to Oliver's front, no space separating them. Oliver settled his hands on Liel's hips as the demon started to move. He could feel every shift of Liel's body, and his blood ran hotter.

He pressed his face to the side of the demon's head and inhaled salt and metal. Liel angled his head, baring more of his neck, and Oliver dragged his nose along the exposed skin.

Lifting his head, Oliver caught sight of Gem a few feet away, dancing with a large feathered demon. The two were grinding so closely that they might as well have been having sex right there on the dance floor. But when Gem glanced Oliver's way, he grinned seductively and waggled his eyebrows.

Then he motioned to Liel and made an obscene gesture with two of his hands, and Oliver glared at him, inconspicuously flipping him the bird. With a silent laugh and a thumbs-up, Gem turned his attention back to his dance partner.

Toni danced between two demons, lips locked with the Incubus behind him as an antlered woman feathered kisses over the gills flaring along his throat. Willow and Tad were still dancing, Willow laughing at something Tad was saying. Rusty and Zef had disappeared, but Oliver assumed they'd probably returned to the bar for a drink.

But he didn't want to worry about his friends. He finally had Liel in his arms, and he wasn't going to waste a single second.

"I want you," he whispered in Liel's ear, fingers tightening on his hips as the demon rolled his ass.

"I'm all yours," Liel vowed, head falling back on Oliver's shoulder.

With a shudder, Oliver closed his eyes, tugged Liel impossibly closer, and gave himself over to the thrall of the music. They danced for what felt like years. Oliver's hands roamed over Liel's torso and, at the demon's prompting, slipped under his shirt to span his smooth stomach.

He couldn't believe he actually had his hands on Liel. After two weeks of waiting, late night phone calls, and so much sexual tension, Liel was here, and Oliver was touching him. If things went well, Oliver was planning on touching Liel all night.

The thought made him hard, and Liel seemed to like it because he ground his ass against the prominent bulge in the front of Oliver's pants. Reaching behind him, Liel delved his fingers into Oliver's hair and fisted them there. Oliver trailed hesitant kisses along Liel's throat and groaned at the taste of his skin. He tasted like salt and metal and storm clouds.

Capturing Liel's chin, he turned his head until those heavy-lidded yellow eyes met his. "I want to kiss you," he said hoarsely.

At first, he thought Liel hadn't heard him, because the demon just stared at him. He wet his lips and opened his mouth to repeat himself, but then Liel was spinning in his hold and smashing their mouths together.

Liel's moan vibrated up his throat and into Oliver's mouth, and Oliver drank it down. Liel's lips tasted even better, lightning dancing along his tongue. Oliver wanted to gorge himself. He couldn't remember ever wanting someone this badly. He wanted to feel every inch of Liel's skin under his fingertips, wanted to taste every gasp of pleasure the demon could utter.

Like he could read his thoughts, Liel broke the kiss and snagged Oliver's wrist, hauling him off the dance floor and into a dark corner of the club. There were other bodies here, stealing moments in the shadows, but Oliver only had eyes for Liel.

They reconnected, mouths hungry, and Oliver groaned desperately as a flexible, textured tongue slicked into his mouth. It coiled around his own, oddly dexterous for such a small muscle, and tightened and pulsed rhythmically. Oliver trembled and pressed Liel against the wall at his back.

He lost track of time as he indulged in Liel's slick mouth, soft lips, and flexible tongue. Grinding his hips against Liel's, he briefly pondered the lack of responding hardness behind the demon's zipper. He banished the thought a second later when Liel's hands brazenly framed his ass and squeezed.

That was all the encouragement he needed. He practically pawed at the demon like an animal, mapping Liel's back under his shirt with his hands. His skin was almost slippery in its smoothness, and Oliver wanted his mouth on every part of him.

"Can I go down on you?" Oliver breathed into Liel's mouth, and the demon groaned deep in his throat, fingers twisting in Oliver's hair again. Taking that as permission, Oliver reached for the front of Liel's skin-tight pants, but before he made contact, Liel's hands dropped from his hair to circle his wrists.

"As much as I appreciate the offer," Liel said breathlessly, "my anatomy's a bite… messier than yours. Not exactly conducive for a club blowjob."

"I don't mind messy," Oliver found himself saying, and the lights of the club glinted off of Liel's teeth as the demon smiled viciously.

"Good to know." Those nimble fingers slid up Oliver's forearms, sending sparks of electricity over his skin. "How about you come home with me and fuck me there?"

The hairs on Oliver's arms stood on end as the air between them filled with static. His brain ground to a halt before spinning into overdrive.

"Yeah. Yes. Your place. Let's do that," he choked out the words as he crowded Liel against the wall until there was no space left between them.

There was a small bulge in Liel's pants now, though it wasn't the shape or hardness Oliver was used to feeling with human men. Not that he cared. Genitals had never mattered to him before; why would that change now?

He kissed him again, and that flexible tongue coiled around Oliver's. He moaned embarrassingly loud as he imagined that tongue wrapping around other parts of him. God, Gem had been right; tentacles really did do it for him.

Oh, shit, Gem! The thought speared through the lusty haze in Oliver's brain, and he jerked out of the bone-melting kiss. "Damn it. Gem."

Liel arched a disapproving brow. "I'm not inviting the Araknis."

With a manic laugh, Oliver shook his head. "No, that's not—I was gonna crash at Gem's tonight, remember? I gotta tell him I'm not coming."

"I promise you'll be coming, darling." That sharp smile coupled with a pass of Liel's hand over the front of Oliver's jeans, and god help him, he nearly came on the spot.

"Oh, fuck me."

The demon shrugged. "Only if you fuck me first. Let's go."

Taking Oliver's hand, Liel led him out of the dark corner and back into the crowd of partiers. Their fingers laced, and when Liel's thumb rubbed sweetly over the back of Oliver's hand, his heart gave a jolt behind his rib cage.

Over his shoulder, Liel spoke loud enough for Oliver to hear him over the music. "Let's find your friends. Don't want them thinking you fell victim to a dangerous demon or anything."

"Didn't I, though?" Oliver shot back, and something dark and sinful sparked in Liel's yellow eyes.

He stopped abruptly in the middle of the dance floor and yanked Oliver down into a hard kiss. "You think I'm dangerous?"

Their lips brushed as Oliver answered. "In more ways than one."

"Oh, precious human, I'm going to enjoy taking you apart." He nipped at Oliver's lip, teeth catching with a sting.

Oliver tasted rust and salt. The lights flashed. The music was so loud. And Oliver wanted to disappear into the man before him.

"I think I'll enjoy that too," he admitted shakily as Liel licked away the blood beading from the minuscule break in his skin.

"You will," the demon said confidently. "I guarantee it."