Darcy doesn’t answer the pants question and instead starts walking again. I follow, staring at his ass—it’s pretty safe to do that. Otherwise I’d be staring at his dick-print, and doing so for too long would make my dick start to chub up. My ass flinches at the thought of sex with Darcy like it might hate me if I try. Seriously, I’ve seen men’s forearms smaller than his dick. I’vehadmen’s forearms in my ass that are smaller than his dick—
It wasonetime, and I almost regretted it afterward. I put this thing on a hookup app asking if anyone wanted to fist me because I was in my experimental phase, you know? All the responses were scary (forearms bigger than my bicep, and giant fucking hands) except this one guy, who came over and did me right. It was fun—until he came back the next day uninvited. Then I started seeing him all over the place, and it got weird. I moved after that and stopped seeing him, so that was good. I can remember the experience with fondness now that I don’t see him everywhere I go.
Anyway. Darcy’s ass—and I guess aliens too. It says a lot about Darcy’s ass that I stopped looking at the aliens for a minute.
“Do you ever have sex with men?” I don’t know why that popped out of my mouth.
“As often as I have sex with women—maybe more,” he answers with a glance behind him and a smirk.
Ok, I know exactly why it popped out of my mouth. “Maybe we should get naked together after this,” I suggest, because I clearly have no self-preservation. Darcy is still covered in blood from the people in Hell he probably killed, and I should probably take that into consideration. “No, nevermind. I have terrible taste in men, and I feel like having sex with you would be a mistake for my health and well-being.”
Darcy chuckles under his breath, shaking his head as he comes to a door that leads into what looks like a bank. Bank design must be a universal thing, or it’s possible that human architecture is in vogue with alien space stations.
“I’ll pass,” he says with another laugh.
That’s fine. I rejected the idea first anyway. It’d be stupid to get my underoos in a twist about him not wanting to sex me up when I changed my mind immediately after proposing it.
“Maybe when I’m in a healthier mental-emotional place.”
Darcy leaves me in the waiting area and walks right up to one of the bankers, getting straight to business. I can’t hear him, almost like there’s some kind of sound protection around the teller’s desk, which makes the bank eerily quiet.
Is it just me or do all banks, regardless of the decibel level in them, have this creepy air of mystery? When you go into a bank, do you wonder how much money is in the same building as you and if anyone has ever tried to steal it, and then you think about what would happen if there was a bank robbery while you’re in it? You know nothing is going to happen, but it's the one place you go where you think it could.
Banks are strange, creepy places. I bet a horror film set in a bank would be a blockbuster. IknowI’m not the only one who thinks about these things when they’re in banks.
5
Traveling on Darcy’s array is just as strange the second time as it was the first, except this time I get to watch how he makes the thing—out of his blood, if anyone’s curious. He literally cuts a stripe into his arm and uses the blood to draw the array on the floor of the space station while everyone watches. As soon as it’s drawn, we step onto it, he tosses something like glitter he takes out of a pocket on his utility belt into the air, and the platform lifts us off the floor. We immediately drop through the floor, falling for maybe fifteen minutes down to Earth before we land in my apartment.
It’s actually pretty cool he brought me all the way home.
I step off the array before he can drop me like last time and fall onto my couch, looking up at the man and trying not to get my attention caught on the baseball bat in his pants. It’s distracting, but I said what I said—
“Alright, I changed my mind. Let’s fuck,” Darcy suddenly announces, eyeing me like I might be as delicious as I think he is.
I take a second to gawp at him—he deserves a bit of open mouthed staring for that, and then I shake my head. “I said I needed to be in a healthier mental place before we fuck. I’m currently on a roll with terrible choices in my sex life—”
BANG! BANG! BANG!
That is not coming fromoutsideof my apartment.
“Shit, I forgot about that pig fucker,” Darcy mutters, stepping off his array and walking toward my hallway.
The array disappears and I have a moment to question whether I want to lever myself back up or if I want to let him deal with the banging he forgot about. Honestly, my leg hurts and I don’t want to keep having to be on it. It’s been a long day of mostly being on my feet, I want to rest, but then again… it is my apartment.
I sigh, push to my feet, and follow Darcy down the hall to the bathroom where he’s wiping blood off the door. “I’m fixing to let you out, and you best behave!” he calls through the door.
“Fuck you!” Stalker Steve shouts from the other side.
“The fuck?” I whisper, disturbed that he’s still here; I guess running away from your problems doesn’t really fix them. Rude, honestly. He should have left.
“Because when I came here to find the baby, I found this fucker instead. He chose to treat me like an enemy—I don’t blame him for that. I am his enemy, but I wasn’t before he took a swing at what is essentially a demigod.”
“Demigod? That’s cool.” I hum, impressed but not surprised he’s that powerful.
Darcy shoots me a smirk then opens the door, and I’m face to face with the asshole that made me run away to Italy for the summer, and I guess he also triggered the world hopping I did today, so I can’t say nothing good ever came from having him in my life.
Stalker Steve’s red face indicates he might have some blood pressure problems, which isn’t unheard of with guys that use steroids to build their muscles up. He’s a step down from a true bodybuilder, but only because he hasn’t had enough time to getthere. “Why you little—” he starts, but he stops when Darcy raises a fist.
