by Xenia Melzer
“Is it?” Sammy raised a brow. “I haven’t heard you speak demon, but I always imagined it would sound a bit like Klingon.”
Dre pressed one hand to his chest and the back of the other against his forehead, feigning consternation. “Klingon! I’m wounded. Deeply wounded. The demon tongue is pure poetry.” He sighed. “I better start teaching you, so you can appreciate it in its full glory.”
Sammy laughed out loud. “You do that.” He wrinkled his nose. “After I have a shower. I reek.”
“Only of the best things—coffee, muffins and books.”
“You charmer. I don’t believe you, since you’re biased. Can you order our meal? I’m in their database.”
Dre saluted. “Will do that. Take your time under the shower.”
Sammy sauntered over and pressed a kiss to Dre’s lips. “Thank you, Dre.” The look in Sammy’s eyes told Dre he was thanking him for more than just ordering their dinner. He caressed Sammy’s hair, wondering how he had managed to fall so hard for the man in such a short time.
“It’s fine, mo grah thu. Go shower. We can talk later.”
With one last kiss, Sammy vanished through the kitchen door. Once Dre heard the water in the shower running, he took out his cell to make their order. While he waited for Sammy to finish his shower, Dre made himself comfortable in the living room, where Sammy had one of those couches with a seating surface so big that it was impossible not to put your feet up if you wanted to lean against the backrest. The cover was made of a sturdy canvas material in different shades of orange to red with six fluffy pillows in yellow. The floor was done with light hardwood planks, which went well with the white walls and furniture that provided a nice contrast to the colorful couch. A slim wardrobe with the door missing and stocked with books and an entertainment center with gleaming silver surfaces made for an interesting mix.
Dre studied the pictures Sammy had hung on the walls. Most of them were family pictures, showing Sammy from being a baby up to a clumsy teenager who seemed to be made purely of legs and arms, always together with a woman with blonde hair, blue eyes and lightly tanned skin as well as a lean black man with soft, dark eyes. The love in those pictures was palpable. Sammy hadn’t told Dre much about his parents. The topic seemed to be too painful for him, and if the pictures were anything to go by, Dre could understand.
The doorbell ended Dre’s musings. Since Sammy hadn’t come out of the bathroom yet, Dre made his way down to the back door that doubled as the entrance for the apartment. Getting out his wallet with a grin, Dre opened the door. It seemed as if Sammy would have to wait until he could pay for one of their dates, which was just fine with Dre. He liked providing for Sammy.
The delivery guy was still in his teens, with some acne spots on his cheeks, a few patches of brownish stubble growing around his chin and mouth and decidedly too much cheap cologne that did a poor job of masking the stench of puberty sweat. The boy held out the bill but avoided making eye contact.
“That’s twenty-five seventy, sir.”
Dre felt a strange niggling at the back of his mind, telling him he had heard that voice before. He ignored it, getting out the cash to pay for their dinner. When he handed the boy the money, he looked up from under his baseball cap and his eyes widened, almost as if he were a cartoon character. His mouth opened and closed a few times, doing an impressive impersonation of a fish before he squeaked: “Thank you, sir.”
Dre frowned. He had heard that voice before, not even a week ago. “You! You’re the black terrycloth guy!”
The boy dropped the insulated box, turned on his heels and tried to make a run for it but Dre was faster. He grabbed him by the shoulders and spun him around so fast that the boy practically crashed against his chest.
“Oh no, my friend. You’re not going anywhere.”
Dre put his wallet back into his jeans pocket, threw the struggling boy over his shoulder, bent down to retrieve the food and went back upstairs. Sammy was out of the shower now, his hair still a bit wet—a look that worked well for him—and was busy carrying cutlery and glasses into the living room. He threw Dre a questioning glance.
“Did you change your mind about the pizza?”
The boy struggled more fiercely on his shoulder when he heard that question, so Dre hurried to put the box with the food down before he placed the boy on his feet, never letting go of him.
“I might still do that. This is one of the little shits who tried to sacrifice you. I thought it would be nice to get some answers.”
Sammy gasped at this revelation and started approaching Dre and his prisoner carefully.
“Are you sure?”
“Oh yes.” Dre knew his eyes were deep red by now because he was so angry about what Sammy had had to endure. If it hadn’t been thanks to the kidnapping that Dre had met Sammy, the boy would already be on a trip through the demon cells in the royal prison to teach him a lesson.
“I’m sorry! I’m really sorry! I never thought you’d appear anyway, and I just wanted Josh and Chase to shut their stupid mouths. I’m sorry. So sorry.”
The boy started wailing and Dre felt almost sorry for him. Almost. He bared his fangs at him, which elicited a shriek and more sobbing.
“You summoned a demon and tried to sacrifice a human being because you wanted your friends to shut their mouths? What did they say to you that was so offensive?”
The boy cowered on the floor, his arms over his head to protect himself. “P-p-please! Don’t kill me!”
Dre opened his mouth to tell the little shit exactly what he thought of him, but Sammy beat him to it. He approached the weeping boy carefully, put his hand on his shoulder while making soothing sounds in the back of his throat.
“Hey, man, it’s fine. It may not seem like it, but Dre and I just want to talk to you. I assume you’ve already realized how dangerous it was to play with the occult?”
The boy looked up. He had tears and snot staining his face, and his cheeks had taken on an unnaturally deep red color. “Yes. I never thought it would work. I just wanted them to leave me alone.”
“Okay, uhm, what’s your name?”
“I’m Milo. Milo Tenniel.”
“Milo. I’m Sammy. Now, why did you want Chase, I think you said his name was, to leave you alone? Aren’t they your friends?”
Milo slowly calmed and Sammy urged him to stand. He still threw wary gazes in Dre’s direction but was mainly concentrated on Sammy, who kept on stroking his left shoulder and arm. When he answered, his voice sounded meek, dejected.
“They’re not my friends, just kids I know from school.”
“And they were teasing you?” Sammy was so calm and understanding. Even though Dre still wanted to teach the boy a lesson, he admired how Sammy got him to talk without using force, though Dre’s presence also seemed to encourage cooperation from the boy.
“Yes. They’re mean all the time because I’m at school on a scholarship and my mom is a single mother who works double shifts as a waitress. They say I have no place at a fancy private school. Two weeks ago, they cornered me on my way home and threatened to give me a beating. I’d just read a book about demons, so I told them I’d summon one who would hurt them instead.” Milo hung his head. “One thing led to another and before I knew it, I had agreed to summon a demon to show them. When the first attempts failed, they got impatient and said they would make me pay. I was glad when you showed up”—he looked at Dre—"because it meant they would finally leave me alone. The sacrifice was Chase’s idea. He said he wanted a lot of things, so we needed to give you an incentive, and he thought taking you”—he shifted his attention back to Sammy—"would be easiest, since you live alone.” Milo glanced at Dre again.
“I’m so sorry. It was never meant to get that far.”
Dre shared a long look with Sammy. If he’d gotten a dollar for every time he’d heard those words—‘It was never meant to get that far’—in regard to the paranormal world, he still wouldn’t have as much money as he had now, but i
t would come close. Regret about stupid decisions that cost lives seemed to be a very human trait, and ignorance of the paranormal world only carried so far as an apology. Sammy handed him a tissue from a box situated on the dresser. Milo cleaned his nose loudly.
“You must be smart to get a scholarship.” Sammy smiled at Milo. The boy shrugged.
“I’m good at math and physics. I want to go to MIT. That’s why I’m working at the delivery service. Half the money I give my mom and the other half goes into my college fund.”
“Wow, that’s impressive! Are you trying for a scholarship to MIT as well?” Dre hadn’t planned on being friendly to Milo, but the way the boy talked about his future plans had woken his curiosity. About ten years ago, Barion had thought about studying at MIT, though for some reason or another, he had always postponed it, as was typical for him. Dre admired Milo’s focus.
“Yes. A scholarship would be ideal, but the competition is a lot harder than it was for my current school, and I have to be prepared if I only get a partial scholarship—or none at all.”
“I guess you need all the money you can get.” Sammy looked thoughtful. “Would you be interested in working for me? Now that I’m dating”—a happy smile flitted across his face, as if he couldn’t believe it himself—“I could use a part-timer who looks after the shop when I’m not here. And since you know demons are real, you won’t be shocked by my more—let’s call them interesting—customers. What do you think?”
Milo stared at Sammy with his mouth open. “You’re offering me a job after I tried to kill you?”
Dre could understand Milo’s amazement. He felt it himself. Sammy grinned like a maniac.
“Well, you said you were sorry, which I believe. You need help, which I can offer. Besides”—Sammy winked—“who says working for me is something you should be grateful for?”
“I don’t care how bad it is. I promise that you won’t regret it!” Milo had transformed from a crying, miserable mess to an eager puppy. He hesitated a moment before he threw himself into Sammy’s arms. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”
Over Milo’s shoulder, Sammy winked at Dre, who cleared his throat. “Fine. You learned your lesson. Now be a good boy and let me have some quality time with my boyfriend.”
Milo blushed and stepped away from Sammy. “Of course.”
“Come to my shop tomorrow after school, Milo. I can show you around.”
“Will do. Thank you, Sammy. Dresalantion.” The last was said with a hint of fear. Dre decided to let the boy off the hook, since it seemed as if he would be seeing him more often in the future.
“You can call me Dre. Let me give you your money. I’m sure you still have some delivering to do.”
Milo nodded. He took the money and put the two cartons with their pizzas on the small table in front of the couch. “I’m sorry. It’s probably cold by now.”
“Don’t worry. I have that covered.” Dre put his hand on Milo’s shoulder while leading him to the door. “There we are. Take care.”
“Yeah. You too,” Milo murmured before he made his way out of the alleyway. Dre watched him go, not sure what to think about this new development. He decided to let it rest for the moment and see if Milo showed up the next day. Basically he welcomed the idea of Sammy having more time for him, so perhaps it wasn’t such a bad idea letting the boy work for Sammy. That way, Dre could keep an eye on him.
He made his way back up to the living room, where Sammy was busy slicing the pizzas.
“I’m afraid Milo was right. They’re lukewarm at best.”
Dre sauntered over to Sammy, to press a kiss on his forehead. “As I already said, I’ve got this.”
He slung his left arm around Sammy’s waist, while holding his right hand over the pizza slices. Heat left his body in waves, and in less than a minute, the pizza was steaming again. With a smug grin, Dre turned his head to Sammy. “Told you.”
Sammy stared at the pizza with big eyes. “With you around, I can totally sell my microwave. You’re way cooler anyway.”
The twitching of Sammy’s mouth told Dre he was making fun of him. “Wonderful. I’ve graduated from heating blanket to microwave. I wonder when I’ll be something awesome?”
Sammy pretended to think about this for a moment. “You mean like game console level? I don’t know. Depends on what other hidden talents you have. Besides, microwaves are valuable kitchen appliances. Did you know that the American engineer Percy Spencer invented the microwave after World War II? The first countertop microwave was sold in 1967, and since then, they’ve become a standard appliance in home kitchens.”
“Fascinating, mo grah thu. I bow to your knowledge about something as important as a box for reheating food.” Dre chuckled.
“Hey.” Sammy slapped him lightly on the arm. “The technology behind it is quite complicated.”
“Yes, mo grah thu. Now let’s eat. I’m starving.”
Still grumbling, Sammy let Dre pull him down on the couch. He took the remote control, searched for A Fish Called Wanda in his media archive and let it play in the background. They ate their meal in companionable silence. Dre was glad Sammy left him most of the meat lovers pizza and more than half of the four cheeses. To show his gratitude, he only ate half of his panna cotta, leaving the rest to Sammy. After they had eaten, they snuggled on the couch, watching as John Cleese convinced Jamie Lee Curtis to be his. When the credits started to roll, Dre nuzzled Sammy’s neck.
“Do you want to talk about what happened today?”
Sammy kissed Dre on the lips. “No. Tomorrow. Tonight, I want to do some exploring. Not all the way, mind you, but I want to get…uhm, acquainted with your body. Is that okay?”
Dre couldn’t stand the insecurity in Sammy’s voice. His lover should never feel hesitant about voicing his needs. “I would love to do that, mo grah thu.”
The beautiful smile on Sammy’s face almost blinded Dre. “Then let’s go.” Sammy rose from the couch, taking the cartons and cutlery from their meal with him. On their way to Sammy’s bedroom, they put them on the kitchen counter. Dre followed Sammy’s lead, ogling his perfect butt, which moved smoothly under the jeans. He couldn’t wait to see his man naked for the first time. For all the kissing and groping they had already done, neither had yet taken off their clothes in the company of the other.
Chapter Eight
Sammy’s heart hammered against his ribs. For the first time in his life, he was taking another person, a man, to his bedroom. And not just any man… A demon, who happened to be his potential true mate. Sammy wondered briefly how his life could have changed so dramatically in the course of less than a week. It was great, though. And for the first time since his parents had died, Sammy felt the sadness lifting that had permeated his entire being. Dre was like a ray of sunshine in his overcast life, and if he didn’t stop with the strange weather metaphors, he would probably start crying.
Sammy stopped in front of his bedroom door. Dre’s presence behind him was sure and warm and strong. With trembling fingers, Sammy opened the door and switched on the light before he stepped through. Dre whistled softly behind him.
“Beautiful.”
Sammy smiled. “Thank you.” The bedroom was the place he was proudest of, right after the shop. The heart of the space was doubtless the bed. Slightly bigger than a king size, the headrest was two foot six inches high, made from black steel that formed an elaborate flower pattern that ran along the sides of the bed to the foot. There, the steel ‘grew’ into two bedposts that looked like trees, whose branches shadowed half of the bed. Sammy had draped a silken cloth in a light green color over them, creating the feeling as if the bed were indeed under a canopy. Sammy flicked the light switches next to the door, shutting off the main light and activating the dozens of tiny pin lights attached to the steel branches. Every time Sammy saw his beautiful bed, he thanked the genius artist who had designed it.
“It feels as if we’re standing in a clearing, complete with fireflies and everything.�
� Dre sounded reverent.
“Exactly the mood I was going for.” Sammy looked at the dark green, thick carpet, the walls that were painted in various shades of green flowing into each other and the two dressers made from solid oak. The bedsheet was white, the duvet cover a light orange that always reminded Sammy of the setting sun. “It’s my sanctuary.”
Dre pulled Sammy close. Without Sammy saying it out loud, Dre seemed to understand what he wanted to tell him—that he was the first person Sammy had ever brought there.
“I’m honored, mo grah thu.”
Dre turned him around in his arms and they started kissing. It still felt strange, kissing somebody as beautiful as Dre. Sammy thought he would never tire of the little electric tingle between them whenever their tongues met. And the heat… Dre was always warm, making Sammy feel everything from sheltered to cozy to passionate, depending on the mood. Their kiss deepened and went from playful to scorching within heartbeats. Sammy clung to Dre’s strong body, trying to get as close to him as possible until he felt Dre’s hands sliding under his T-shirt. Without hesitation, Sammy leaned back a bit, moving his arms over his head to help Dre with getting the fabric off him. Not wanting to be the only one naked, Sammy started tugging at Dre’s shirt, though there was no chance he could pull it over his head. Dre was simply too tall. Grinning, Dre grabbed the collar of the shirt and dragged it off.
Their naked torsos met, skin gliding over skin. Sammy marveled at how soft Dre felt, even though his scales were clearly visible. They were small, like a snake’s, and easily overlooked because of the intricate silver patterns on the deep red surface. Sammy started following one of the many swirls that started on Dre’s chest and lead him down to where the waistband stopped his exploration. Sammy’s hand hovered over the button of Dre’s jeans. He looked up to silently ask for permission and gasped when he met Dre’s deep red gaze. It seemed as if the demon was very much on board with the idea of getting naked. With a boldness fueled by both lust and curiosity, Sammy opened the button, worked the zipper down and started sliding the denim over Dre’s narrow hips. Dre had gone commando and his thick, large cock sprang free the moment the fly gaped apart.