Lucifer's Litigator

by TJ Nichols

  “Yeah. About that. Why me?”

  William opened up the bottle, not caring what it was, and drank. It burned all the way down and didn’t do anything to help untangle his tongue. He put the lid on and walked over to the bin. Then he leaned against the table in front of Tom. “We had a good time.”

  Tom’s forehead creased and he glanced down. “We did. Is this because I never mailed you back?”

  He wanted to say yes, but he couldn’t explain why. What had happened between them was more than a letter. “Not exactly. I never hated you.” He’d been hurt by the lack of response, but he’d known from the start that Tom would leave. By the time he’d written Tom’s name, the hurt had been eclipsed by the memories of the good times. “More to reminisce, I think.”

  “You could’ve just called instead of bringing your demons.”

  “They aren’t mine, and they aren’t demons.” His tongue tingled in warning.

  “Your boss’s.”

  William’s lips twisted into a smile.

  Tom studied him. “You asked if I believed in miracles. God hands out the miracles. That who you work for? Do you realize how that sounds?”

  “I know how it sounds.” He spoke carefully so his tongue didn’t burn and spilt.

  Tom nodded as though he understood that William couldn’t elaborate. “If you work for the good guys, then why the trouble?” Tom glanced at him. “You can’t say.”

  “Not everything is black-and-white.”

  Tom stared at him as he tried to process what was going on. “Let me assume for a moment that gods and demons and shit are real. Like, really real, as in reach-out-and-touch-them real, and you’re on their legal team. I’m no expert in religion, but doesn’t that sound like a dumb thing to get involved in? Those Greek tragedies never ended well because the gods meddled. Fuck… they really meddled.” He rubbed his hand over his hair. “Why? And how could you? You were always so much smarter than me.”

  And so much poorer.

  “Getting a law degree isn’t cheap. I didn’t have the right connections for most of the jobs I interviewed for. Then this came along. The money was good. I didn’t know the whole story.” His tongue burned. He was so tempted to let it split so he could tell Tom everything and have it all on the table. They’d be able to find a solution between the two of them. Or maybe he was looking at the past too fondly, when all they’d had was him coaching a teenaged Tom through math and sex.

  And booze. That summer was a hangover haze. “Do you remember when we went to Rottnest Island?”

  Tom almost smiled. “Yeah. I haven’t been back since.”

  “Me either.” He didn’t include his visit with Lucifer, because he wasn’t sure they’d really been at Rottnest. William traced the back of his teeth with his tongue, refusing to show any outward sign of nerves. He couldn’t hold an actual conversation with Tom. He remembered that summer through the rose glasses of time. Did he still regret the un-ending? Maybe all he needed was to see Tom to realize they were different and that they couldn’t go back. But nothing he’d done so far had broken the contract.

  While he did still regret the unending, it was clear they couldn’t pick up where they left off. They were different people. The Tom he’d known would never have threatened to kill him. “Would you really have stabbed me back there?”

  “I don’t know. I didn’t know what was going on, only that leaving you with them didn’t seem like a good idea.” He shrugged. “It would’ve been nonfatal.”

  “Would’ve been safer for you to leave alone.”

  Tom shrugged. “Safe is relative, as you said, and this was already coming for me.”

  “Only because I activated it by showing up tonight.” Come on. Work it out, Tom.

  “Throw me another bottle.” Tom held out his hand.

  William reached into the fridge and pulled out a tiny vodka. “You sure?”

  “Nope. But apparently gods are real and the man I once loved works for them.”

  William placed the bottle in Tom’s hand. “Loved?”

  He’d been a fling for Tom. An embarrassment.

  “I didn’t realize at the time, not until it was far too late. Maybe if I had….” He drank the contents of the bottle and tossed it in the direction of the trash. Then he fell back on the bed and scrubbed his hand over his face. “I’m sorry I never wrote back.”

  “I could’ve called or written again, but I knew you were busy.”

  “No excuse. I should’ve made time. Is that it? Unfinished business? And what happens if you finish?” He propped himself up on his elbows to stare at William.

  “As in….” William raised both eyebrows.

  He smiled. “I’m yours for the night.”

  Tom was offering himself. Maybe Will didn’t have to tell Tom more. Maybe all he had to do was put to bed what they’d had, get Tom out of his system once and for all, if that was possible. This older Tom wasn’t the smiling larrikin, but he had a certainty and stability that was just as attractive as his mischievous grin had once been. Tom knew what he was doing with his life; he hadn’t fucked it up for a good paycheck and luxury penthouses in several cities.

  Tom beckoned him closer, and William knelt over him on the bed. It couldn’t be this easy. Or maybe it was, and he needed to stop overthinking.

  TOM TRIED not to think about all the times Will had sat on him like this. And he failed. “What are the odds that demons will burst in?”

  “Not their style. And it’s not them you have to worry about.”

  Tom put his palms on Will’s thighs. “So I won’t get dragged to Hell?”

  Will considered him for a moment. “Not how things work.”

  Everything Will said was so carefully thought through. He was such a lawyer. Tom once would have laughed at the idea. Will was too smart and too nice to become what Tom considered leeches. But he’d met a few, and he’d been forced to admit they weren’t all bad. Will wasn’t evil, and he didn’t work for Satan. Tom wasn’t sure he believed in God. He’d seen too many dying prayers go unanswered. But even though he knew what he’d seen downstairs, it felt unreal, like he’d imagined them turning on him after too many drinks. He’d laugh about it tomorrow.

  It was impossible.

  What wasn’t impossible was having Will all to himself for a night.

  To say that he hadn’t thought about Will while he was lying in a sweltering barrack in the Middle East—or even at home in a lonely moment—would be a lie. But they weren’t eighteen, or newly nineteen. He knew he wasn’t the same person.

  Will certainly wasn’t.

  “It won’t be the same,” Tom said.

  “I hope we both know what we’re doing now.”

  “We had fun learning.” Tom had become the best possible student when Will tutored him. He hadn’t just passed math, he’d gotten a solid B. It was almost enough to make his father happy.

  “Yeah, we did.” Will leaned forward as though to kiss him.

  Tom swallowed. All the alcohol rushed to his brain while the blood filled his dick. He was sure the room gave a spin and dragged the shadows with it. It took a moment for them to settle.

  Will drew in a breath. “I want to kiss you.”

  “You’ve never needed permission for that.” He’d spent far too much time thinking about Will’s lanky form—tall, dark-haired, and entirely confusing. He hadn’t known what to do with those feelings, which had previously only been about girls.

  The first time Will kissed him, Tom knew it was more than fleeting lust. But they’d been careful during the last term at school. No one needed to know they were doing so much more than studying. The end of year twelve was sweet relief—because the exams were over and because they were free.

  “Section 44 C,” Will murmured.

  Tom blinked. Right. The argument with the bartender. The memory was hard to put back together.

  “I don’t think I can kiss you without burning my tongue,” Will helpfully added.

  “But I ca
n kiss you?”

  Will nodded.

  Tom dragged Will down so their lips brushed gently at first, then more firmly. He threaded his fingers through Will’s hair to keep him there. This was probably alcohol-induced stupidity, but they both wanted to indulge, and Will’s lips were sweet from the liquor.

  Unfinished business.

  What did Will need from him? What did he need from Will?

  Will’s tongue slid into his mouth and nothing else mattered. The years between them melted away. This was Will, the first guy he’d ever fallen for and the one who’d left a hole in his life that had never quite been filled by anyone else. Maybe he wasn’t shit at relationships. Maybe he’d just been with the wrong people.

  The kiss continued in little tastes, so they could both remember how to breathe.

  Tom untucked Will’s shirt and slid his hand beneath. His skin was warm and smooth, and for a moment, his past and present collided. His Will. They never even dated. They’d just been together… in secret. Because what would Tom’s family say?

  Will said he hadn’t sold his soul. Maybe that was legally true, but he’d certainly cut some kind of deal, and it wouldn’t end well if Tom didn’t help him. But if Tom didn’t know the details and couldn’t read the fine print, what could he do?

  Will’s lips brushed his again, as though he couldn’t get enough. Maybe this was all Tom had to do.

  It was all he wanted to do.

  And once Will was free…. Was this one night and then nothing?

  It wouldn’t be his first one-night stand, but it didn’t sit right that Will had sought him out just to drag him into bed.

  Will drew back. “What?”

  “Nothing, just thinking.”

  “Now isn’t the time for thinking. We can do that in daylight.”

  “When you’re free.”

  Will smiled, but it was a sad little thing with wings broken from beating against the bars. “Yeah, we can think and talk and work things out then.”

  Because if Will didn’t get free, there would be nothing. “And if this doesn’t work? How will you know it’s worked?”

  “I’ll know.”

  “But you can’t tell me how.”

  Will shook his head.

  “And how do I know you aren’t trying to cheat me out of my soul?”

  Will’s teeth closed over Tom’s earlobe in a gentle bite. The sensation sparked through his blood to his balls. “That isn’t my job, but if you want a miracle, I’d talk you out of it. Nothing is free.” Beneath the softness of his words was a razor edge.

  He’d seen some incredible luck, guys who’d walked away from an IED that should’ve killed them. Had they gotten a miracle?

  Tom flipped Will over and caged him with his body. “You don’t have to answer, but let me see if I’m joining the intel together. You did contract law and you act for a company, and the company is run by God and hands out miracles. And you can’t just resign, because you know too much.”

  If Tom hadn’t seen some grade A weirdness with his own eyes, he might think Will needed a different kind of help.

  Will’s eyebrow twitched up and a smile curved the corner of his lips for just a heartbeat. It was enough for Tom to know he was on the right track. “What happens if you stay?”

  Will’s smile faded to a frown. “I become a permanent employee.”

  Chapter 5

  TOM’S HAND stilled. A permanent employee didn’t sound like a good thing if one worked for gods. And he still wasn’t sure he believed in gods and demons, but he had to accept and move on. Will’s concern was real, his need to be free was real, and his desire to do more than talk was real.

  Enjoy tonight and maybe everything would be fine in the morning? Tom suspected that was bullshit. He’d seen plenty in the Army. Shit didn’t fix itself. Sometimes you needed help, but no air support was going to swoop in and help him now.

  He unbuttoned Will’s waistcoat and shirt. “Let’s make sure that doesn’t happen.”

  Will cupped Tom’s face. “That’s not the only reason I’m here. I wanted to see you. I’ve come to every one of these things hoping to see you.”

  “Why?”

  “I missed you. You were part of my life for years.”

  Tom hadn’t even known who Will was for the first few years of high school, but those last few months, he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him.

  “It’s different now. We’re different.” Though the old attraction was still pulsing in his blood and making it impossible to think.

  “Good. I need you as you are now. You’re smart—” Tom went to interrupt, but Will placed a finger over his lips. “You know how to survive. I’m a house cat who’s never set foot on the streets.”

  Tom kissed the finger. “That makes me an alley cat.”

  Will smiled and unbuttoned Tom’s shirt. “I was thinking more of a tiger.”

  Will and he had once been a team. Maybe they could do this. They could certainly find a few ways to get through the night.

  Tom shrugged out of his shirt as Will undid his own pants.

  Tom freed Will’s dick from his jocks and stroked the length—hot and hard and too familiar. He shouldn’t be able to remember the way Will liked to be touched, how hard to grip and that little twist at the end, but he did.

  Will closed his eyes, and for a few seconds, the worry left his face. Tom stole a kiss, and it was returned with a hunger he didn’t expect, and he guided Will’s hand to his fly. Then Will was undoing Tom’s belt, flicking open the button, and dragging down the zipper. Will caressed him through the thin fabric of his boxer briefs.

  “Don’t tease.” Tom nipped Will’s lip.

  Will obeyed and pushed Tom’s pants and briefs down as far as he could so he could grasp Tom’s dick. Tom thrust into Will’s grip. His hands were almost too hot, and it was awkward, but he didn’t want to stop and rearrange or look for lube and condoms. He couldn’t stop kissing Will to draw the breath required to speak.

  His palm now slippery, Tom released Will’s dick and pressed his hips closer to grind against Will. “Like that?”

  Will shifted beneath him with a slight rock of his hips. That was good, but it wasn’t enough. Will put a hand on Tom’s chest to push him back a little so he could reach between them. Tom glanced down to watch as Will wrapped his hand around their dicks.

  “Better?” Will’s voice was breathy.

  If it was working for Will, it was good for Tom. He watched and thrust into the fist Will had made. He’d always liked it this way, despite the inevitable mess—or maybe because of it. If he closed his eyes, no time had passed. The touch, Will’s breathing as he got closer… they were as familiar as his own, and he hadn’t forgotten a thing. Will tipped his head back and groaned as he came. Tom didn’t try to hold back. The release washed through him and left him shuddering with his fingers curled in the bedsheets.

  They hadn’t even made it properly to bed or gotten undressed. Some things really didn’t change.

  Tom’s breathing settled, but his gaze never left Will as he waited for him to open his eyes again.

  With a sigh Will did, and Tom didn’t need to ask.

  Will wasn’t free.

  IT WAS several moments before Tom pulled away and disappeared into the bathroom, giving William precious seconds to pull himself together. His hands were still hot, but he hadn’t burst into flame. He’d hoped one last time with the ex he most regretted breaking up with would be his way out.

  But too easy.

  He wasn’t sure what to try next, now that the obvious things had failed. What was left on his list? What could he or Tom do tonight that would break the contract?

  Would Tom even want to help him, or had had he merely been a twenty-five-year-old itch for Tom to scratch? William scrubbed his hand over his face. Had he just used Tom for sex and freedom? His thoughts spiraled down a dark path that was only broken when Tom tossed him a hand towel.

  Neither of them spoke as they cleaned up.<
br />
  William balled up the towel and forced himself to move. He tossed the towel on the bathroom floor, washed his face, and had a drink of water. His pupils shimmered red in his reflection, so he focused on his hands, not wanting to remember how close he was to being lost.

  “So what now?” Tom leaned on the bathroom doorframe.

  “I don’t know.” William rested his hands on the edge of the vanity.

  An alarm cut through their awkward postsex discussion. It was almost a relief. William hated morning-afters for that exact reason. But he should be able to talk to Tom.

  With brisk, efficient moves, Tom did up his shirt. “Fire alarm. I’d like to think it was coincidence, but I suspect your employer is involved.”

  And he’d be right, but Will didn’t agree. His tongue was hot just thinking about the words. “Thank you for… for being here.”

  Tom shook his head, and a smile danced over his lips. “What’s a high school reunion without an ill-advised affair with an old lover?”

  The alarm cut William’s thoughts into confetti and scattered them. Tom walked over and pulled the edges of his shirt together and did up two buttons. “We need to go. Button up and I’ll gather the rest of the clothes.”

  Then William was alone again in the bathroom… or almost alone. From the corner of the shower, a shadow watched. It swelled and grew until it swallowed all the light and spilled onto the tiles like ink.

  Tom opened the room door and light from the hallway cut the shadow in half. William, careful not to touch it, followed Tom into the chaos as people made for the emergency stairs. He finished dressing and buttoned his waistcoat as he walked. Some people were in their pajamas, children in their arms.

  Tom moved calmly and confidently. Others fretted and gossiped, confused about where they were supposed to be going. A staff member held open the door and reminded them all not to rush.

  The stairs were a slow-moving centipede. Tom grasped William’s hand as though he didn’t want him to slip away—to be dragged away—in the press of bodies.

  The simple touch buoyed him. He couldn’t remember the last time hope had risen from its grave, but tonight hope soared, even though she was a scarred and fragile thing. Tom didn’t let go until they reached the street, and the loss left him aching. He wanted to grab Tom’s hand and not let go, no matter how much his skin burned, but he knew, without looking at Tom, that the night was over.