19. Electric Kisses

Chapter nineteen

Electric Kisses

As Oliver quietly closed Toni's bedroom door, Rusty rubbed the back of his head as he eyed Oliver and Liel, then their clasped hands. "I'll take the couch," he said. "And try to keep it down. I don't wanna know what Oliver's cum noise is."

"We're not gonna do… anything," Oliver spluttered defensively.

Liel chuckled, but said nothing to confirm or deny Oliver's claim. Instead, he tugged on Oliver's hand and led him toward the door across from Toni's bedroom. It ended up being the bathroom, not the spare bedroom.

"The bathroom's here," Oliver called to Rusty. "In case you wanna clean Gem's puke out of your fur."

Rusty's husky laugh drifted from the living room. "Thanks."

The next door did open to the spare bedroom. It was smaller than Toni's and lacked the vast windows, but it was cozy and inviting. Realizing that he and Liel were about to share a bed for the night, nerves fluttered back to life in Oliver's stomach.

Liel shut the door, watching Oliver intently. Oliver's gaze ping-ponged between him and the bed.

"So, uh, there's only one bed," Oliver said with a tense laugh. "Fancy that."

"Relax, darling. I'm not fucking you for the first time in a stranger's spare bedroom." Liel unhooked his suspenders so they dangled from his waist. "But I hope you're not opposed to cuddling. I'm quite fond of it."

"Yeah, okay. Cuddling I can do." Oliver's next laugh was more genuine, and Liel grinned.

"Excellent."

Oliver's mouth went dry as Liel unbuttoned his shirt, revealing miles of smooth, sandy skin that faded into a muted yellow above his waistband. He didn't have nipples or a belly button, and the distribution of muscle was different than a human man's. But holy hell, it sent Oliver's blood racing.

He wanted to touch, to taste. He wanted… he just wanted . But Liel was right; it wasn't the place for it. Not with Rusty just outside on the couch. Not in Toni's possibly-mafia-dad's penthouse.

But fuck, he wanted.

"What's your preference?" Liel asked, yellow eyes flaring like he knew exactly what Oliver was thinking.

"What?" he croaked, voice cracking.

Sinking sharp teeth into his bottom lip, Liel gestured to the bed. "Left side or right? Do you have a preference?"

Oliver shook his head, fingering the hem of his shirt but not removing it. He wasn't usually one to feel self-conscious about his body, but he'd never had to strip down in front of a demon from the Hell dimension before. What if Liel thought he looked weird. What if Liel was grossed out by his nipples or his belly button or his chest hair?

Oh shit, when was the last time he'd manscaped?

"Oliver?" Liel cocked his head, and Oliver shook off the insecurity.

It wasn't like he could change how he looked now anyway. And if Liel didn't like it… Well, it was better to know that now, right? Better to rip the Band-Aid off quickly.

"I don't have a preference. Either side works," Oliver said as he fisted his hand in the back of his shirt and tugged it over his head in one fluid motion. Unable to hold Liel's gaze, he dropped the shirt to the ground and toed off his sneakers. He hesitated with his fingers on the button of his jeans. "Uh—"

"Dress down as much as you're comfortable," Liel said as he sat down on the bed, back to Oliver, and removed his loafers. "I'll be leaving my pants on, if that makes a difference."

Oliver eyed the skin-tight pants. "They don't look comfortable to sleep in."

Casting him a glance over his shoulder, Liel grinned devilishly. "I'm not wearing anything underneath, darling."

And cue Oliver's boner.

"Of course you're not." He laughed weakly. "How are you even real?"

Liel quirked his head in confusion. "Should I be offended?"

"No! I just… I'm wearing SpongeBob boxers right now. And then there's you." Oliver waved at Liel wildly. "You go commando in leather pants and actually pull it off!"

Brow cartilage furrowed, Liel offered him a perplexed smile. "I don't know what a sponge bob is."

"It's a kid's show." With a manic laugh, he unfastened his jeans and shoved them down enough to reveal the pattern of his underwear. "It's a child's cartoon about a sentient sponge who lives in a pineapple under the sea. His best friends are a starfish and a squirrel."

Fighting amusement, Liel slowly rose to his feet and cautiously circled the bed. "I don't think I understand your distress right now."

"I'm a mess of a human being," Oliver blurted. "I graduated college at twenty-six with an accounting degree I'm not using, because I work at a coffee shop. I don't have cool hobbies or unique interests. I feel like a kid playing dress-up most of the time, hoping that if I fake it long enough, I might have a chance of being a real grown-up someday.

"And then here you are. You're a successful lawyer who is well traveled and confident. You're unfairly attractive and suave, and apparently, you can take down demons double your size because you're literally your own taser. Which was really sexy, by the way. I wanted to say it sooner, but it seemed inappropriate.

"And I'm just me. I'm just… Ollie the human." He grimaced as Liel came to a stop right in front of him. "I know insecurity isn't attractive. And I'm not saying this so you, like, stroke my ego or anything. I just don't get it. I don't get how you can be you and still… like me? Or maybe you just want to fuck me, which is cool. I'm good with that, but—"

Liel pressed the yellow pads of his fingertips to Oliver's mouth to quiet him. "I like your brutal honesty, even if it's not fully grounded in reality." Oliver's lips parted under his hands, but he pressed harder. "Hush, I'm speaking now. As flattering as it is to hear how you view me, it's not accurate. Yes, I'm a lawyer, and yes, I'm usually good at it. I'm fortunate to have had good mentors who gave sound advice that I used to further myself, but I've gotten lucky more times than I can count.

"I'm lucky that I knew someone who already worked at my current firm. Even as a ‘diversity hire,' they wouldn't have hired a Gluttony Gymnot fresh out of training without that. I try to emulate the Greed accent because it serves me, because I wouldn't be taken seriously if I didn't. Which is a betrayal to my past and to myself. I'm not proud of it, but it is my reality."

Yellow gaze breaking away, Liel wet his lips. "As for all your other compliments, I, too, am just Liel. I don't have everything figured out. I'm stumbling around my life the same as anyone. I'm bougie and petty. I work too much, to the point of self-harm, and I steal things I don't need from my place of employment. We are on the same level, remember?"

His hands framed Oliver's face, eyes softening as if Oliver was something to be cherished. "I like you, Oliver. I like your humanness and your child cartoon underwear and your job at the coffee shop. I like your transparency and your ramblings and your soft, open heart. I don't care if you're a mess. I don't mind messy," he said, offering Oliver's words back to him.

"Yeah?" Oliver asked, and Liel nodded. "Okay. Because I like you too. A lot. Probably more than I should." Oliver whispered, and with a sinful smile, Liel drew him down into a soft, sweet kiss.

Before it could deepen, Liel broke it and stepped back. He glanced down at Oliver's jeans barely hanging onto his hips. "A sentient sponge. What a strange thing for a kid's cartoon."

"Yeah, it's pretty much an acid trip."

"I adore the odd things you say." Liel dragged his fingers down Oliver's throat to his chest and the soft hair he had there. "Oh, well, isn't this nice. I like it very much."

"I think I'm hairier than you," Oliver said stupidly, and Liel chuckled deeply.

"Yes. Gymnots do not have body hair." Dropping his hands to Oliver's hips, he cocked his head. "May I?"

When Oliver nodded, he pushed on the heavy fabric, working it down Oliver's legs until he directed him to step out of them completely. Yellow palms rubbed Oliver's calf muscles, and Liel rumbled in approval.

"I like this too," he purred as he sifted his fingers through the darker, coarser hair on Oliver's legs.

With an anxious chuckle, Oliver offered a hand to help him stand, and Liel took it. His feet were yellow, like his hands, and his toes looked slightly webbed; not as thick as the webbing on Tad. The skin between Liel's toes looked thin and fragile, almost gauzy.

"Are you sure those pants are gonna be comfortable to sleep in?" Oliver asked when said pants made a creaking sound as Liel stood.

Liel grimaced. "I'll survive."

"You could—" Oliver cut himself off, struggling to find words that didn't sound creepy. "I want you to be comfortable."

"I want you to be comfortable," he retorted, and Oliver scrubbed a hand through his hair.

"You could sleep in my t-shirt. I mean, it might not be long enough to, you know, cover you. But…"

"You really wouldn't mind? I have no… ulterior motives—"

"Me neither," Oliver rushed out. "I'm not trying to perv on you or anything." Crouching down, he retrieved his t-shirt and offered it to Liel. "But as hot as you look in those pants, they look hella uncomfortable."

With an almost shy grin, Liel took the shirt and slipped it on. Since he wasn't that much shorter than Oliver, the hem barely grazed the tops of his thighs. But he was slimmer than Oliver, so it was loose and—as long as Liel didn't bend over or twirl or move much at all—it had a tiny chance of offering him some modesty.

Liel returned to the other side of the bed, and Oliver busied himself with pulling down the covers and sitting down, back to Liel as the demon peeled his leather pants off. He texted Zef and Willow to let them both know they'd arrived at Toni's and that Gem was sleeping before setting his phone on the bedside table. Once he was sure Liel was under the covers, Oliver clicked off the lamp and slipped under as well.

Light from the hall filtered in under the door, but it was otherwise dark in the room. Oliver could see the slight glow of Liel's eyes, but it was the only feature on his face that he could make out.

"Can you see me?" Oliver asked, and Liel made an amused noise in the back of his throat.

"Better than you can see me, I imagine."

"Yeah, humans have shit night vision."

Another humored sound, then the shift of bedding. The depression of the mattress moved closer, and Oliver jumped when a chilly foot brushed his shin.

"Sorry," Liel whispered.

"It's okay. Your toes are just cold."

"I run cooler than you, I think. You are so… wonderfully warm." Feather-light fingertips drifted over the back of Oliver's right hand, and Oliver responded, pushing back until their fingers twined. "May I come closer?"

Oliver's swallow was audible in the dark. "Yes."

Those glowing eyes moved closer, and Oliver felt cool breath against his chin. "May I ask a… biological question?"

Oh god, Oliver didn't think he had enough self-control if Liel wanted to talk about anything related to sex. He was already at half-mast simply from the demon's proximity and knowing he was bare from the waist down.

"S-sure."

"Do you have… mammary glands?"

The question took him so off guard he struggled to respond for several long seconds.

"Forgive me, but I was under the impression that human females feed the young. Not the men," Liel rushed out, embarrassment tinging his tone.

Relieved at the direction of the conversation, Oliver snorted a laugh. "You mean my nipples?"

Releasing his hand, Liel drifted his fingers over Oliver's chest. He jerked when Liel brushed a touch over his left nipple.

"Yes, your nipples."

"Uh, most humans are born with nipples. It's because we all start out female in the womb, and it's later in the process that the Y chromosome kicks in, sending testosterone and stuff to make males develop… you know, male anatomy." Another pass over his nipples, and Oliver almost whined.

His nipples had never been a particularly sensitive or erogenous zone before. But he was on a hair-trigger; every nerve ending was on high alert.

"Your breathing changed," Liel said, voice lower and huskier. "Are they… sensitive."

Not trusting his voice, he hummed. "Mhm."

"Oh." Liel's fingers moved away from his nipple to his chest hair. "Is this alright?"

Oliver nodded, and when Liel's hand moved with more confidence, it further proved how clearly he could see in the dark right now. In contrast, Oliver was nearly blind, and his other senses heightened to compensate. Every exhale from Liel's mouth, ever passing touch, was crisp and sharp.

Unable to stop himself, Oliver slid his left hand up Liel's arm. The fingers in Oliver's chest hair twitched but didn't stop their ministrations. Oliver followed Liel's arm to his shoulder, fingering the sleeve of his shirt Liel wore, before continuing until his hand cupped Liel's neck.

His flat, kelp-like hair danced over the back of Oliver's hand, and he wondered, not for the first time, how autonomous it was.

They perused each other, shrouded in shadow for a long time, speaking without uttering a sound. Their hands communicated just fine, their touches words enough. At some point, with Liel's hand in Oliver's hair and Oliver's fingers digging into Liel's waist over his shirt, Liel slipped one smooth leg between Oliver's. When his knee met the hardness in Oliver's underwear, Oliver inhaled sharply and Liel froze.

"Sorry," Oliver choked out. "It'll go away in a sec."

"Don't apologize. I like the way your body responds to me."

Another shift of bedding and Liel was right there. Oliver could feel the static vibrating off of him. There was even a subtle glow to the yellow highlights in his hair. It lit Oliver up from the inside out.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered like a secret between them, fingers hovering over Liel's skin without making contact. Electricity popped and crackled, and Oliver startled at the shock.

"If we keep this up," Liel said, voice unsteady, "I'm going to lose my grasp on control, and neither of us want that."

Breath just as shaky, Oliver said, "Losing control doesn't sound so bad."

"It will be if I accidentally blow out the ceiling light." Capturing Oliver's hand with a sharp pop of electricity, he laced their fingers again and settled their twined hands between their chests. "Sleep. We should sleep."

Disappointed, but knowing Liel was right, Oliver nodded, heaving a huge sigh. "Okay. Can I kiss you?"

Liel huffed in amusement. "Oliver."

"A goodnight kiss," he said, sounding like a pouting child.

He heard, more than saw, Liel's smile as he said, "If you want a kiss, come take one."

It was a challenge as much as it was an invitation, and Oliver lunged forward and pressed his lips to Liel's. Well, he tried to, but he was blind and miscalculated. So he ended up kissing Liel somewhere between the subtle ridge of his nose and his top lip, Oliver's nose nearly jabbing his eye.

Laughing fully, Liel cupped Oliver's face and guided him to his mouth. The kiss was hungry and electric, and when Liel's tongue invaded Oliver's mouth, he swore he could taste his metallic lightning. He groaned, hips moving of their own accord to grind against Liel's thigh. The demon moaned into his mouth, and Oliver swallowed it down, desperate for more.

Until an annoyed voice echoed from somewhere in the penthouse. "Dude, I can hear you!"

Gasping, they broke apart, foreheads pressed together, legs tangled. Oliver's clothed erection was pressed right up against Liel. There was no responding hardness, just intense heat and, if Oliver wasn't mistaken, wetness?

But then Liel was wiggling away, adding some much needed distance between them, and Oliver didn't want to reach down to verify whether the slight dampness on his boxers was from his own precum or from Liel.

"Sorry, Rusty," Oliver called back a moment later, after clearing his throat. The Pyclon didn't respond.

Oliver flipped onto his back and panted at the ceiling, willing his erection to deflate. Liel was just as out of breath, that static popping continuing to crackle along his skin. After a few minutes of measured breathing, even that abated, and Oliver was left in complete darkness once more.

Feeling across the mattress, he sought out Liel's hand, finding it resting on the demon's stomach. He clasped it firmly in his, bringing their hands to lie in the space between their bodies.

"Goodnight, Liel," Oliver whispered.

Yellow eyes blinked back at him as Liel squeezed his fingers nearly hard enough to hurt. "Goodnight, Oliver."