31. Relationship Plant

Chapter thirty-one

Relationship Plant

The next day after work, Oliver didn't take the train back to Chicago. Instead, he headed to Gluttony, stopping at the bodega close to Liel's apartment to pick up a few grocery items and a bouquet of yellow flowers. He texted Liel, telling him to be home on time, "or else." Then rode the elevator of the demon's building to the ninth floor and used his key for the first time.

"Liel? You're not home yet, right?" Oliver called out as he navigated the floor of the entry that was strewn with shoes and scarves and even a cardigan. Liel's bag from their weekend at the ranch was still lying forgotten next to the front door, and he snorted as he picked it up and carried it to the bedroom.

When Oliver moved in, they'd be having a chat about clutter. Liel seemed to forget about things the moment he set them down, and while Oliver wasn't anal about cleanliness, the general disarray that Liel was blind to made Oliver's eye twitch.

His plan had been to start prepping for dinner, but after investigating the full extent of the clutter, Oliver decided to clean up first. He arranged the shoes in the entryway and hung the jackets and scarves on the hooks installed in the wall near the door.

He collected all the displaced clothing and put them in Liel's hamper, then cleared the dining table of files and papers he assumed were from Liel's job. He set the table and arranged the yellow bouquet in a vase he found under the sink and placed them in the center.

Once the apartment looked more put together, Oliver started prepping for dinner. He'd asked his mom for her lasagna recipe, then looked over it with Glyma and Toni to see what he could substitute with items from the demon grocer. He was, now, pretty confident in his ability to make an edible, demon lasagna for his boyfriend who'd gifted him a key to his apartment and wanted to move in with him at some point.

At five o'clock, Oliver put the lasagna in the oven and tossed the salad with the tart dressing Zef had suggested, along with the wriggling peanut-bug-garnishes Oliver had tried on his first day at the cafe. The dressing was thick enough that the bugs couldn't escape, so Oliver set the bowl of salad in the fridge to stay cold as he checked the time. At five thirty, Oliver turned the heat of the oven down, not wanting the lasagna to burn. At a quarter to six, Oliver was glaring down at his text chain with Liel.

Liel had seen his text but hadn't responded. And it was now almost six o'clock, and the lasagna was going to be mushy. It soured Oliver's mood, and he sent Liel another text.

You gonna be home soon?

At seven minutes past six, Oliver heard the key turn in the front door. Liel was already talking as the door swung open, voice strained as he shouldered a huge potted plant that, honestly, had seen better days.

"I'm sorry!" he wheezed as he dropped the briefcase hanging from his pinkie onto the floor and kicked the door shut. "I didn't see your message until after five, and then Julie from accounting just wouldn't shut up about a missing laminator-label maker, and I had to act like I cared to keep her from suspecting me! And then the tram was late, and I couldn't find a seat, so I had to stand while holding this"—Liel heaved the plant onto the kitchen island—"monstrosity. It's heavier than it looks."

Noticing the set table, lit candles, and flowers, Liel spun on Oliver with huge, glassy eyes. "Did you make dinner?"

Oliver nodded.

Liel's face fell. "Did I ruin it?"

Oliver shook his head.

"I'm sorry I'm late," Liel whispered dejectedly as he approached the table and touched the flower petals. "They're very pretty."

"They reminded me of you," Oliver said, and Liel's face crumpled.

"Oliver," he whined, and Oliver chuckled as he wrapped Liel up in his arms and kissed the side of his head.

"Welcome home," he said, and Liel's breath hitched.

"You used your key."

"That's what it's for, right?"

Liel nodded, rubbing his nose against Oliver's shoulder. "Yes, but you used it! And you made a romantic dinner."

"Just wanted to do something nice for you."

"Oliver!" Liel whined again, louder and whinier than the first time.

Cupping Liel's face in his hands, Oliver leaned back enough to smile down at him. Then he closed the distance and kissed him, swallowing Liel's contented sigh. He didn't let the kiss deepen, because the lasagna would definitely be mushy if it stayed in the oven any longer, and because he had a very important question to ask his boyfriend.

"Hey, babe?" he said when they parted, and Liel blinked at him, a dazed grin spreading over his face.

"Yeah?"

"What the fuck is that?" Oliver asked, gaze jumping behind Liel to the dehydrated plant on the counter.

Following Oliver's stare, Liel cringed, cheeks darkening in a blush. "Oh, uh… it's for you?"

Oliver cocked his head and inspected the clearly deceased plant. "Thanks?"

"It's our relationship plant!" Liel said, pulling away from Oliver's embrace to place a hand on the large, round pot. "I thought about what you said yesterday, and I want to honor your human traditions. Even if I don't understand them."

"Huh?" Oliver said.

Liel's eyes darted around dubiously. "I'm going to save the plant for you."

As he fought the urge to laugh, Oliver pressed his lips together and hummed. "I think the plant's already dead."

Liel shook his head. "It's just thirsty."

Heaving the pot across the counter, he turned the head of the faucet until it hovered over the cracked dirt and turned on the water. It streamed into the pot, the parched earth soaking it up until the water started to pool, then rise toward the lip of the pot.

With a squeak, Liel turned the faucet off, then gestured toward the plant with a flourish. "Ta-da!" His smile wavered when a crispy leaf snapped off the stalk and fluttered to the counter. The moment it landed, it practically disintegrated into dust. "Oops."

Unable to hold it back any longer, Oliver covered his mouth with his palm and laughed. Liel's yellow eyes narrowed, and his mouth thinned in irritation.

"The plant thing was a joke," Oliver said between bouts of laughter. "It's not a human tradition."

"Then why did you say it was?"

"I didn't say that!"

"Then why did I carry that up nine floors?"

When Liel crossed his arms over his chest with a huff, Oliver rubbed his biceps, chuckling when Liel turned his face away with a sniff. "Because you're adorable." Liel glared up at him sullenly, and Oliver pecked his forehead. "Where did you even find it?"

At that, Liel stiffened, averting his eyes as he feigned intense interest in his yellow cuticles. "Oh, you know, it was just… on the street."

Oliver scrutinized the large, painted ceramic pot. "You found it on the street?"

"Mhm."

Pinching Liel's chin, Oliver forced him to make eye contact, studying him intently. The demon smiled innocently, fluttering his lashes. Oliver arched an eyebrow. Liel swallowed thickly.

"You stole it, didn't you?"

"That's preposterous and offensive," Liel said stiffly. "I'm offended."

"Babe?"

Liel broke. "I panicked, okay? I was stressed about nurturing a relationship plant, because I'm not good with plants. I'm never home, and I forget to water them, so they always die. And then Julie from accounting started asking questions about the inventory, specifically, a missing laminator-label maker! And I panicked!

"The moment I could escape, I fled and kind of blacked out, because the next thing I knew, I was standing at the tram stop holding that!" Liel pointed at the plant. "It's already dead, Oliver. I've already killed our relationship plant!"

Oliver's hands framed Liel's neck, thumbs tipping his head back so he couldn't look away. "In order to avoid suspicion for theft, you stole a large, potted plant from your job?"

Liel nodded miserably.

"You could have asked to take it. It's already dead, so they probably would have let you," Oliver said.

"Where's the thrill in that?" Liel demanded.

"You're insane. Like, completely certifiable," Oliver said, not unkindly.

"I know," Liel whimpered.

"Firstly," Oliver said, kissing the tip of Liel's flat nose, "I don't need a relationship plant or for you to have a green thumb."

"I mean, that's good because my thumbs are yellow," Liel said, and Oliver kissed him to shut him up.

Breaking away just enough to speak, Oliver whispered against his lips, "Secondly, the fact you care enough to commit a crime in order to honor a fake human tradition might be the most romantic thing anyone's ever done for me."

Liel gripped Oliver's waist, leaning in until their chests brushed. "I'm a romantic guy."

"You should probably stop stealing from your office, though. You're too bougie for jail."

"No more charcuterie," Liel gasped dramatically.

Oliver shook his head somberly. "No more charcuterie."

"Should I sneak the laminator-label maker back into the storage room?"

"No," Oliver said quickly. "That would be too suspicious. They'll just chalk it up to it being misplaced somewhere. If it suddenly reappears, then they'll know someone took it."

"Right. Very smart." Liel popped onto his toes and slid his arms around Oliver's neck. "You know, this makes you an accessory to my crimes. So if I go down, you know I'm taking you with me."

"That's why we're taking it to our graves. I would do even worse in demon jail than you. At least you can electrocute people. I'd just get eaten."

Liel cackled as Oliver nuzzled his cheek. "I would protect you. You'd be… how do you humans say it? My bitch?"

With a hard smack to Liel's ass, Oliver scooped him up and set him on the kitchen island as the demon yelped. "I probably wouldn't mind being your bitch."

"Oh?" Liel rubbed his palms over Oliver's shoulders, then down over his chest, skin crackling with a subtle charge. "Would you offer sexual favors in exchange for my protection from the other scary demons?"

Oliver kissed the skin under Liel's pointed ear. "I would, and I'd make a very compelling argument."

"Hmm, I do like a good negotiation." Tilting his head to give Oliver more access to his neck, Liel chuckled darkly. "And you do have such a pretty mouth."

"Pretty and talented," Oliver whispered as he nibbled on Liel's jaw. "But before I prove that, we should eat dinner. The lasagna's getting mushy."

With a quick peck to Liel's mouth, Oliver pushed off the counter and headed to the oven. Liel scowled, sulking on the island as he poked at the now-drenched dirt in the ceramic pot.

"I want to eat your ass, not your lasagna," Liel grumbled, making Oliver snort as he pulled the glass dish out of the oven and set it on the stove.

"That's for dessert," Oliver said with a wink, and Liel rolled his yellow eyes.

He hopped off the counter, still inspecting the dead plant. "Do you know how we can save our relationship plant?"

Oliver shrugged. "Water it and put it in the sun? Maybe talk to it?"

"Talk to it?" Liel cocked his head, and Oliver shrugged.

"That's what the internet says."

Humming, Liel chewed on his bottom lip and stared hard at the plant. Then he leaned in and hissed, "You better get your shit together and fast because you will not be the reason that the man I love decides not to move in with me. Flourish and be happy or else I will electrocute you until you explode into flame."

"I, uh, don't think the internet meant you should threaten the plant," Oliver said hesitantly, and Liel tossed several locks of his flat hair over his shoulder and shrugged.

"It isn't a threat," he said primly. "It's motivation."

Oliver arched a challenging eyebrow.

"Strong motivation," Liel amended.

"I'm going to move in with you," Oliver said with an amused grin. "Whether or not our relationship plant flourishes."

At his words, Liel melted, his cheeks darkening as lightning flashed in his eyes. "You promise?"

Abandoning the lasagna on the stove, Oliver shucked off the hot pad and returned to Liel's side, wrapping his arms around the demon's slim waist. "I promise."

Liel practically tackled him, kissing him with so much exuberance, Oliver couldn't help but respond in kind. He moaned into Liel's mouth as a dexterous tongue tangled with his. Oliver quickly forgot about the mushy lasagna and his rumbling stomach as his dick hardened in his jeans.

Enjoying dessert before dinner wouldn't really hurt anything, right?

When Liel wriggled his hand past Oliver's waistband and grabbed his clothed erection, Oliver grunted and tore at the buttons on Liel's shirt.

"You're gonna have to make room in your closet for my shit, you know?" Oliver said as he untucked Liel's shirt and splayed it open so he could press his palm to the demon's smooth, muted yellow stomach. "And empty some drawers in your dresser."

"Yeah," Liel said breathlessly. "I want that. I want all your shit in my house. I want your toothbrush next to mine, and your sex toys mixed in with my sex toys."

Oliver nearly strangled Liel as he fought to loosen his tie, and the demon laughed, withdrawing his hand from Oliver's pants to help.

As Liel removed his tie and chucked it across the room, Oliver hoisted him back into his arms with the intent of laying him down on the kitchen island and sucking his dick. But his grip on Liel's thigh slipped, and the demon practically crash-landed on the marble counter. Liel screeched and fell back, hands flailing.

His shoulder collided with the ceramic pot, and the plant slid over the wet, slippery counter top. Oliver inhaled through his teeth as Liel shrieked wordlessly, both reaching for the plant as it teetered on the edge.

Then toppled to the floor with a monumental crash.

Muddy earth splattered the floor and cabinets as the ceramic shattered. The dead plant snapped into pieces, whatever leaves that remained bursting into dry papery flakes.

Half-dressed, Liel leaned over the island and gaped down at the carnage. "No!" he cried. "Our relationship plant!"

Oliver patted his shoulder gently. "I'm sorry, baby."

Liel spun on him, pointing a yellow finger in his face. "No take-backs!" he snarled menacingly. "You already promised to move in. No backing out now. This"—he gestured to the broken pot and mud—"changes nothing!"

Shoulders shaking with laughter, Oliver brought Liel's hand to his mouth and kissed the pad of his pointing finger. Then he unfisted the rest of Liel's digits and kissed each one, followed by his palm.

"No takebacks," he agreed, and Liel's intensity eased. "Promise."

With another forlorn glance at the shards of broken pot and shambles of whatever remained of the plant, Liel sighed heavily, then shrugged. "Honestly, I'm relieved. The idea of reviving that thing was way too daunting."

"Oh, but moving in together isn't?"

Liel blew a raspberry and shook his head. "Of course not. That just makes sense. You're the buttered toast to my jammy."

Warmth burned through Oliver's chest until he feared he'd burst into flame. "I like jammy toast."

"Everyone likes jammy toast," Liel declared haughtily.

"I love you," Oliver said, and Liel tucked his face into Oliver's neck with another happy sigh.

"I love you too. Now, let's agree to never mention that cursed relationship plant ever again." He leaned back enough to fit his hand between their bodies. "Deal?"

And as Oliver slipped his hand into Liel's and shook it, he kissed him deeply and promised, "Deal."

The End