He grabbed Zorun’s arm before he could disappear into the ether. “Do you think you could get me a few things from the land of the living if I made you a list?”
7
Luc
After being exiled from his own office and getting the Tana damage control underway, Luc decided to clock off early. There was only so much he was able to coordinate while walking around with his head still metaphorically inside Oren’s pants. He retired to his room, getting some chores he had been putting off done to take his mind off it.
Walking to his closet with a handful of freshly cleaned clothes in his arms, he flicked the door open with his tail and paused on the threshold.
He’d had Oren pass him his leather trousers that morning, so hadn’t seen inside, but it looked like Oren had made himself more than at home in Luc’s room. The once black-and-leather closet now contained more pastels and patterns than it had ever seen. Oren had claimed he’d only needed half the space, but he’dgrown bolder and spread the pinks and the light blues until Luc’s clothes were squished to the side. Not that he had many of them.
He found himself smiling at the sight of their wardrobes next to one another. They couldn’t have been more different, couldn’t have looked more mismatched, and yet, it looked like they fit somehow. Like the blacks and the soft pastels completed each other, accentuated each other.
The contrast of it was beautiful to Luc, just like the contrast of their skin touching was beautiful. Luc’s dark red and Oren’s pale softness. Flushed from Luc’s breath on it. Bruised from Luc’s lips kissing, teeth biting, and hands squeezing.
His mind didn’t stop there. It assaulted him with images of Oren in his lap, in his arms. Beneath him. Pinned to a wall. Held up so he could be eaten out. Wrapped in his leathery wings. Oren being his.
Luc shook himself free of those thoughts and closed the closet door. He couldn’t spiral when there were still so many hours in the day he had to fill until he could deliver on his promise and devour the little human.
He had to find a way to be productive or he’d just zone out, brain foggy with lust.
“NOT THE HORNS!” The loud boom reverberated down the hallways into Luc’s room, spurring him into immediate action.
Not another blasted fight between demons. Not when Oren was alone with them in a cramped room. Not when Luc was so far from him and he could get seriously hurt if they went as hard as they usually did. They were getting so rowdy Luc was starting to believe Oren was right and they needed a vacation.
With his long strides making the ground shake, he rushed out of his room and down the hallway to the right. More screeching echoed through empty space, but what made Luc freeze in his tracks was the very annoyed, very human voice he heard responding to the screech.
“Oh, settle down, it’s just an exfoliating stone.”
He charged toward the door that led to one of their shower rooms and threw it open. The first step nearly had him slipping on the thick, bubbly foam that was escaping multiple shower stalls on the far-left wall and creeping toward the exit, as if it too was trying to escape whatever the fuck was going on.
“I still don’t want you touching my horns.” Luc recognized Kassel’s voice from farther into the steamy room, but only barely. It had more emotion in it than Luc had heard from him in centuries.
“How am I supposed to shine them if I don’t touch them?” Oren asked, and Luc recoiled, fighting his way through fog and bubbles until he reached the center of the shower room.
The sight before him was not something he had expected to see… ever.
Oren sat in the middle of the room on a chair that seemed to be raised in the air on some sort of stone platform just a little wider than the chair itself. Luc had zero idea where the platform had come from or if the minx had had it built just for this purpose.
He looked like a little king of a very strange kingdom consisting of gigantic shower stalls coming directly out of the brimstone to the right, and three massive sinks to the left. Luc had no idea if they had running water since nobody had used the room in eons, the demons preferring to use the lava pits and natural hot springs. Around him sprawled fifteen of Luc’s strongest, meanest demons, sheet masks on their scaly faces, their horns wrapped in small towels, cucumber slices over their eyes.
Jek was lounging with a towel wrapped around his head and a matching one around the end of his tailed body, paying no attention to anything. Especially Kassel, who was sitting to his left and between Oren’s spread knees. He had his head thrownback as Oren ran a silicone-y-looking brush over his scalp, arguing with him about exfoliating the dead cells on his horns.
Luc was going to hang Jek by his entrails. Useless demon.
Kassel was practically sitting in Oren’s lap when he had given explicit orders for distance. There was too much skin on show and too much contact between them. He could feel steam rising from him in wispy trails as he got more worked up staring at the picture they made. Luc knew what it felt like to have Oren close. He’d held him in his arms in the dark, felt him squirm next to him, felt him flushed and hard and wanting. He wanted to claim him. Imprint on him.
He wanted to be the only thing Oren remembered when he inevitably left Hell.
“What the fuck is going on?” Luc shouted, but the cacophony of voices and the steam in the air drowned out his question before it could build the power it usually had to strike fear into the masses.
“Spa day,” a voice to his left said, and he whipped around to see Zorun wrapped in a fluffy robe that barely fit him. It had the back entirely ripped out to accommodate his massive wings, which were slicked back with a green substance.
Luc pointed at them. “The fuck is that?”
“Oren said it’s a nourishing skin mask,” Zorun drawled, looking down at the ragged ends and points of his wings, which always dragged on the floor. He shrugged. “Feels pretty nice.”
“What the fuck?” Luc asked again.
