Kyle awoke screaming in agony. His muscles were taut, contracting to the point of contortion. He was sure his bones were on the verge of snapping, and he howled as another spasm curved his spine in a very unnatural direction. No amount of fighting helped him regain control of his traitor body, twisted as it was on the mattress.

He wasn’t sure what was worse, that or burning. He thought he had forgotten heat, but it felt like he was being burned alive, victim of a conflagration that consumed him inside and out. Sweat-soaked sheets pulled at his skin, creating the stomach-turning sensation that he was being flayed alive.

Until just recently, he had experienced pain like this only once before. And it was in reliving that fateful night in his dreams that he had begun experiencing it again. He knew that he mumbled and moaned in his sleep as he was forced again and again to make his contract with Ryka, but it had only ever looked to others like he was hurting; the dream itself was actually quite innocuous. But now, the sensations that woke him nightly were almost as unbearable as they had been the night he had become a demon’s host.

In pain, in the dark, with morning still a long way off, all he could do was despair. Kill me, he thought. Please.

I won’t.

As the pain began to diminish, Kyle discovered some muscles were back under his power. Gingerly, he rolled onto his side. There was no position that didn’t leave him agonized to the point of nausea, but this was the least miserable. Tears were streaming down his face, and he could see them glistening on his cheeks, reflected in the mirror above his dresser. Although his breath came only in uneven, ragged gasps, he still managed to ask, “Why not?”

Because I love you. And I won’t let you do it yourself, either.

Kyle closed his eyes. A few weeks earlier, when the torment had only just begun, he had asked the same thing. And Ryka had coolly explained that if Kyle tried anything, he’d summon himself. Which left Kyle no choice but to suffer.

“What’s happening?” he inquired. This, too, had become part of their new ritual. But, for the first time, Ryka had an actual answer.

I can only assume it’s punishment.

“Punishment?” he wheezed. “For what?”

What else?

His sin, of course. The very one who sounded guilt-ridden for being the cause of his host’s nightly torture. Which made Kyle feel even worse - demons were supposed to trigger guilt, not feel it themselves. And here he was making an immortal deal with the consequences of his choices. Shame hollowed out his knotted stomach.

Ryka whined. They were stuck in another infinite feedback loop of misery. They’re our choices. But I’ve never heard of this happening. Maybe it’s to make up for the pain I’ve saved you from. Hangovers. Getting raped or hit by a car. That kind of thing.

“I’ll walk into traffic if it helps,” Kyle offered, voice hoarse. “I’ll take a million hangovers over this.”

Ryka laughed weakly, and Kyle could tell the demon was trying to force his own will upon Kyle’s stubbornly unyielding muscles. They relaxed a little more, and Kyle’s breathing finally returned to normal. Get a drink then go back to sleep.

Still a little shaky, Kyle fumbled for the alarm clock. “It’s already two. I may as well get up and do some work.”

Really, Kyle was scared to go back to sleep. Once a night was more than enough to endure that torment.

***

The morning bell stopped Kyle from nodding off at his desk. He watched through blood-shot eyes as his students streamed into the room and quietly took their seats. In a sleep-deprived stupor, he began lecturing, frozen in place in front of the blackboard, supported only by Ryka’s desire to prevent his host from ruining their reputation. Without the demon’s help, Kyle knew he wouldn’t have been able to get out of his chair, never mind remain standing during an eighty minute class.

Somehow, Kyle made it through two periods. By lunchtime, though, he was as exhausted mentally as he was physically. Not since Ryka’s rebellious stage had he gotten so little sleep. And back then, he had only been tired and a little sick. Even though he had been awake for hours, the pain still lingered. Its persistence worried him. Would this be what the next several decades - the next century - felt like?

As soon as his second class ended, he hobbled to the teachers’ lounge and let himself fall onto the couch. Don’t sleep here.

“I know,” he mumbled. He certainly didn’t want to. The rest of the staff was already terrified of him. Waking up screaming and thrashing wouldn’t help. But his eyelids felt so heavy, he couldn’t stop himself from closing his eyes. Just for a moment.

And when he found himself staring across his bed at a smaller, cuter version of Ryka, he tried to force himself back awake. It wasn’t working.

The only thing that saved him the agony and embarrassment of the dream was Adam shaking him awake, echoing Ryka’s words. “Probably not a good spot for a nap.”

“Shit. Thanks.”

“Why don’t you have them call a sub so you can go home?” Adam suggested, concern evident in his words.

“It doesn’t matter. I can’t sleep for long. I’m pretty sure this is what they mean by ‘no rest for the wicked.’” Kyle had tried to explain to Adam what had been happening to him, but had yet to give him Ryka’s interpretation. Before anyone else walked into the room, he did just that.

“So, this could go on for how long?”

“I don’t want to think about it.”

“Well, at least school’s done in a week.”

For that fact, Kyle couldn’t have been more grateful.

***

Drawing on Ryka’s seemingly limitless strength, Kyle managed to finish off the school year without collapsing in front of his students. He was still only getting a few hours of sleep each night, but the thought of three months with only minimal work energized him more than a little. And an invitation to go out drinking helped, too.

Especially since it meant staying out late. Anything that kept him up had quickly become a beloved new pastime, and Ryka was at least enjoying that part. Kyle let the demon spoil him, and did his best to return all the attention. He was tired, but at least he was satisfied. And a content parasite made the situation a little easier to handle.

Still, Ryka found it impossible to be entirely obedient, so he was the one there to greet Adam when he arrived at the house. Adam expected some sort of harassment, but Ryka only said, “Don’t let him sleep,” before handing back control of their body to his host.

Barely avoiding unconsciousness after the transformation, Kyle struggled off the couch. “I just need some caffeine or something first.”

“No problem,” Adam quickly replied. He would do everything in his power not to disappoint Ryka.

***

The bar was crowded, but not claustrophobic. Kyle wished he was awake enough to enjoy it more. As much as he liked O’Rourke’s, it was nice to go somewhere else. But his vision was starting to blur, and it was harder and harder to keep his swollen eyes open. Adam nudged him. “I’m just going to the bathroom; I’ll be back in a sec. You’ll be okay, right?”

“Yeah.” He wasn’t so sure, but didn’t want Adam to worry.

At least don’t waste the beer.

“Fine,” he murmured, preparing to finish what was left in his glass in one swig. But all thoughts of his beer, or of almost anything else, vanished when a man wearing a black leather trench coat and spurred cowboy boots stepped into the room. Every gaze turned toward him, and all but Kyle’s slipped away. The newcomer sauntered across the floor and sidled up next to Kyle at the bar.

“Evenin’. Mind if I sit?” he greeted in a thick Southern drawl. Mouth hanging open, Kyle shook his head. “Pardon me for not makin’ eye contact - I know it’s rude - but lookin’ at you gives me sorta double vision. Seein’ both of you at once like that ain’t easy.”

The newcomer may not have been able to look at him, but Kyle was staring dumbstruck at the man. No one could see it, he knew this by now, but the horns that curled back from behind his temples and, when he shifted his coat aside to sit, the tail coiled around his left thigh were obvious to Kyle. Just as obvious as his complete lack of wings.

“Ah, you’re wonderin’ about my lack of flight gear.” It felt rude now to have been staring at the empty space behind the other demon, but it seemed like no offense was taken. “Reapers don’t need it. Too hard to hide all the time, besides.” He glanced sideways at Kyle, garnet eyes glowing. “He might not even know much about us, we spend so much time stuck here. But before that, forgive me again, I failed to introduce myself. Name’s Pike.”

“I’m Kyle. And this is Ryka.” It felt strange to have no one but himself to motion toward, but the words came out of his mouth quite naturally.

“Pleasure.”

Pike ordered himself a drink, and didn’t speak again until he’d drained half of it. “I’ll gladly answer your questions, but may I ask a few of my own first?” Since Pike seemed nice enough, compared to the few other immortals Kyle had encountered, he nodded. “Thanks very much. Now, how long you two been together?”

At first, Kyle couldn’t say anything. Though he could feel his cheeks getting hot. Finally, he told him, “Eleven years.”

“Judging by the look on your face, ‘together’ for you two has more than one meaning. But a gentleman doesn’t pry. Not when he’s done his own fair share of messin’ around.” Pike took a few sips of his beer and kept a close watch over Kyle’s shoulder. Kyle turned to follow his gaze and saw Adam heading back in their direction.

His friend looked surprised to see him having a conversation with a stranger, when he had been so near to falling asleep moments before. Though part of that shock was due to the fact that the man perched on the stool next to Kyle was clearly a demon. Adam blinked rapidly, but no, he wasn’t hallucinating. That man had horns.

We shouldn’t talk in here. Big boy already knows what Pike is, and that’s enough.

When Adam reclaimed his seat - only faltering for a moment - Kyle turned and told him, “We’re just going to step outside for a minute.”

Mouth dry, Adam nodded. “Sure. Want me order you another beer?” By now, he knew better than to ask too many questions. If Kyle didn’t tell him, he was probably better off not knowing.

“Yeah, thanks.”

He and Pike both polished off their drinks before heading outside. “This way,” Pike said quietly, inclining his head toward the back of the building. Kyle followed him. “I’m glad y’all know I’m no threat. I ain’t here to start anything but a bar tab.”

Kyle chuckled. “Same. We’re not out hu-” Kyle cut himself off. Had he really been about to say “hunting?” He felt ill. Of course they weren’t out searching for damned souls. It had been that dark part of his subconscious chiming in again, putting words in his mouth like it had with Jenny. Right? If not … his brain simply clicked off trying to process the alternative.

Stud?

That was enough to restart it, and Kyle finally finished, “Just out for a drink.” Maybe if he kept talking, they could all forget what he’d nearly said. “Um, well, I hope this doesn’t sound too straightforward or anything,” Kyle continued, only realizing as he spoke how catching Pike’s good manners and heavy accent were, “but what does a Reaper really do? Is it different from what a Hell Hound does?”

“My deepest condolences if you’ve been unlucky enough to meet a Hound. They’re the ones that usually think I’m after their prey and are lookin’ to start a fight.” At least it hadn’t just been Ryka, then. “We’re still after the damned, just goin’ about it differently is all.” Pike leaned back against the building, letting his tail unwind from around his leg.

“Hell Hounds are the Devil’s eyes up here. That’s why they have two sets, you know. Help ‘im keep track of what all those sinners are up to, so that when their souls go home, he’s got some good inspiration for keepin’ ‘em occupied for all of eternity. And Hounds’re free to send those same souls on their way if they need a meal. Hidin’ in this world ain’t always easy. Sometimes makes me wish I had a host. Then I’d have company and a good food source.”

Kyle was a little shocked at that, but Ryka purred just loud enough for Kyle to hear. Pike’s words seemed to make him appreciate what he had. Just as much as it made Kyle feel like a walking buffet.

“As for Reapers, we make sure sinners don’t redeem themselves. If it looks like they might do somethin’ good to shift the scales back toward salvation, we give ’em a little touch. Like this.” Slowly, he reached out with one long, wickedly clawed finger and tapped Kyle on the shoulder. There was no reaction from Ryka - meaning this demonstration was far from a threat - but Kyle felt his entire body seize up, heart clenching in his chest and air rushing out of his lungs. The sensation only lasted a moment before normal function resumed, his heartbeat strong and steady once more.

“That’s all it takes?” Pike nodded, and the slightest grin turned up the corners of his thin lips. Kyle felt his skin crawl. With a weatherworn face and hair graying at the temples, it looked like Pike had spent more years sowing fields than reaping souls. The disconnect between his unassuming appearance and good manners, and his obvious delight for his job was unsettling.

“Y’all know all those famous assholes that die of heart attacks?” Kyle nodded, and that grin broadened as Pike pointed a thumb at himself. “Won’t work on you, of course. You’re not any of my business. And now I see that if I did think to mess with ya, I might get in big trouble for it.”

It was only then Kyle noticed the faint red light now shining on them. The shadow was watching, eyes narrowed and mouth slightly open. Goosebumps rose on Kyle’s arms; he didn’t like being the one the portal was attached to. “Ry?”

Yeah, yeah. At least this one’s not gonna end in a standoff.

It was a little uncomfortable undressing in front of Pike, but the Grim Reaper continued to play the gentleman and focused instead on getting a cigar out of jacket pocket. “Could I bother you for a light?” he asked, once it was Ryka next to him.

Before extinguishing the small flame dancing on his pointer finger, Ryka lit a cigarette for himself. The two demons stood in silence for a few moments, Pike calmly puffing away on the cigar clenched between his teeth.

“I already know what you wanna ask. Well, let’s see … I’ve been here long enough to have met Judas in person.” He paused when Ryka let out a low hiss. “None of us like that name, but it’s something to consider, ain’t it? Especially since you seem pretty attached.” A grumble, but there was no arguing with the truth. “Anyhow, I was made about seven thousand years ago. I’ve been on shift almost half that time, and in this country long enough to pick up this friggin’ accent I can’t seem to shake.”

“Something to look forward to.”

Pike scoffed. “Now, what’s troublin’ you two? Even you look about ready to drop.” Kyle knew he looked haggard. Sleep deprivation had made him a zombie, with waxy pale skin and bruises around bloodshot eyes. But Ryka had been avoiding the mirror, and now Kyle had to wonder if his parasite looked just as bad.

Through Ryka’s eyes, Kyle now stared down at the pavement. Ashamed as he was about their poor condition, Ryka couldn’t force himself to meet Pike’s gaze. But he still explained what had been happening.

Five long minutes - and two more cigarettes - passed after Ryka finished speaking. Finally, Pike told him, “I have a hunch you’ve already broken half the rules, so why not keep goin’? As I’m sure you’ve realized, there’s always a loophole.”

“Think the loopholes have loopholes?”

Pike raised an eyebrow. “Maybe. He’s gonna have words for you when you get back, I’m sure.”

“I’ll tell him where to stick ‘em.”

That earned a bark of a laugh from the Reaper. “I’d also wager I know why you’re here.”

It was Ryka’s turn to scoff. But he didn’t let his annoyance get the better of him, and instead traded gossip with Pike. Most of it was lost on Kyle, given that none of it was in English, but in Hell’s native tongue. Though he did catch a couple familiar names.

The small talk lasted through Pike’s cigar. “It’s been a pleasure chattin’, but I got a tab to run up. I’ll keep away from your mortal friend in there, but I won’t be lingerin’ anyhow; I’ve got a bus to catch. I found some time to sightsee, and I’m takin’ advantage of it.” Pike dropped the stub of his cigar, crushed it with the heel of his boot, and started back inside.

He’d only gone a few steps when he stopped and looked back over his shoulder. “Maybe one quick hint, for Kyle. You know, I got into a big mess a while back; they caught me and tried me for something I hadn’t done – they gave me the chair. Man, I’ve yet to find a woman that can make me feel as good as that shock did. And believe me, I’ve tried a lot of ‘em.” Winking, he snapped, and red sparks flew from his fingertips, sizzling when they hit the pavement. And then he was gone.

What was that about?

Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

“Sex advice,” Ryka answered matter-of-factly.

I figured that much. Now, why would that have come up at all? What were you two talking about?

“Lots of things. But you know fire feels good for me.”

Still… Knowing he needed to change the subject before he got dragged into something he really wasn’t ready for, he continued, Adam’s probably waiting. With my beer.

“If alcohol wasn’t involved, this conversation wouldn’t be over.” Disappointed as he was, Ryka gave up arguing and retreated.

Back at the bar, Adam was carefully guarding his friend’s drink. “Feel better?” he asked when Kyle sat down. Even with Ryka’s help, he probably still looked like death warmed-over.

“Not really. But I’ll be okay.”

“I hope so. Because I did want you to come to my bachelor party next weekend.”

“That time already, huh?” Maybe Ryka’s skewed sense of time was starting to affect him, because it seemed to Kyle that Adam and Kate had only just started going out. Now, their long-awaited wedding was only a month away. He’d been sent an invitation - at Adam’s request, he was sure. But it was obvious Kate didn’t want him there. Why else would she have the ceremony at a church, and the reception at a church hall, when Adam at least hadn’t attended a service in years?

Sensing his friend’s thoughts, Adam offered, “I’m sorry about the wedding. It’s just what she wanted, and-”

“No need to apologize. Assuming I’m not dead by then, I’ll come to the party. I mean, it’s not going to be anything crazy, right?”

“No, I hope not. One of my friends, Miles, said we can have it at his house. His wife was going to take the kids to visit their grandparents for the weekend. But Miles’s loaded, and so is his wife, so their house is basically a mansion. Huge pool, hot tub, home theater, all that.”

“As long as you’re sure it’s okay for me to go.” That sounded like just the sort of place Ryka would have a field day trashing. He looked like a rockstar, and he definitely acted like one.

“Of course.”

***

Yawning, Kyle climbed into bed and tried to make himself comfortable. He still ached, and he knew it could get much, much worse, but he was too tired to resist any longer. And the alcohol hadn’t helped. “Please spare me,” he whispered, though who would answer the wishes of a sinner such as himself, he really didn’t know.

Let’s try something new tonight.

“Is this about those loopholes?”

Mm hmm. So let’s go to sleep.

“‘Let’s?’” But Kyle hardly got the question out before he felt himself drifting off. He tried to fight it, but his exhaustion won. It hadn’t been a fair fight, though. Ryk had helped.

It had only been a few weeks since their last rendezvous, and as much as Kyle enjoyed it, he didn’t see how that would help him any. Because afterward, he really would sleep, and then his torment would continue.

So, when Ryka lay down next to him and pulled him close, he tried to fight his way out of the demon’s arms. “Where’re you going, stud?”

“I, I can’t. I’m so tired. And aren’t you? You’ve been up all day lately helping me.” The more he squirmed, the tighter he was held.

“I’m fine. But that’s not what this is for. So just shut up, relax, and let me hold you.”

“You’re not going to-?”

“Don’t tempt me. I’m trying to be good. So stop struggling. The more you fight me, the more I want you.” Hearing that, Kyle stilled himself. Ryka held him against his chest - though no longer in a constrictor’s embrace - keeping one hand over Kyle’s eyes and a wing protectively over them both. The heat from Ryka’s body was soothing, as was his quiet purring, and before long, Kyle was falling asleep, while asleep.

He awoke gasping, his body assuming he was in pain. But the sun was already up, and the worst that had happened was his hand falling asleep because he’d lain on it all night. For the first time in weeks, he felt refreshed. “Ry?”

Shut up. Let me sleep.

“Sorry. And thank you.”

Uh-huh.

Although he was a little lonely without Ryka’s company during the day, it was nice not to be on the verge of keeling over. This must have been the loophole-within-a-loophole Ryka had been thinking of. Kyle was sure that with his luck, it would be closed soon enough, but he hoped to take advantage as long as he could, and as long as Ryka was willing to help. Which, he thought with a smile, would probably have been forever.

***

Adam hadn’t been kidding; his friend Miles’s house was enormous. Obscenely large, even. Kyle was sure he could have fit four of his house in it, and nevermind the expansive, golf-course perfect lawn that sprawled out around it. “Best behavior, right, Ryka?”

Yes. For the fifteenth fucking time.

“Okay, okay. Sorry. Go back to sleep.” All week, Ryka had been ensuring that his host slept well, which meant losing out on plenty of shut-eye himself. Because to make sure the dream he created didn’t end, he had to lie awake next to a peacefully dozing Kyle. It was incredibly boring, and a temptation almost too good to resist. But he had managed to keep his hands - and everything else - to himself for his Master’s sake. To have Kyle feeling better was worth it.

Night.

“Good night, Ry.”

Kyle parked behind Adam’s car in the driveway, which he thought might have been longer than the street he lived on. As soon as he stepped out of his car, Adam was there to greet him. “Hey. You found it okay?”

“I don’t really think I could miss it,” he replied, looking again at the house. Estate? He lived in a house, this was something else.

Adam followed his gaze and sighed. “Kinda sad, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. But I knew what I was getting myself into when I started teaching.”

“The exact opposite of this. But come on in. They bought a couple kegs, the bar’s stocked and there’s so much food.”

After grabbing a backpack with a few necessities out of his backseat, Kyle followed his friend toward the house. He noticed Adam eyeing his bag, and said, “I am going to try to stay at least for tonight. This week’s been a lot better.” In fact, the night before, he’d managed to get a solid eight hours of pain-free sleep without any assistance. Only a week had gone by, and it seemed now like nothing had ever been wrong.

Ryka, however, was still in a deficit, and further exhausted by the effort of making nearly a week’s worth of dreams for his host. Controlling his desire had been nearly as draining. He hadn’t said it, not yet, but Kyle could only imagine how hungry Ryka must be. And he didn’t want to think about how they were going to remedy that problem.

“I’m glad to hear it. No offense, but you weren’t looking so great.” Like it was his own home, Adam opened the front door and motioned for Kyle to enter.

“I felt even worse.” No need to elaborate, especially not in front of the rest of Adam’s guests.

A group of six other men was waiting in the living room. Adam introduced Kyle to them, and Kyle could tell that Ryka woke up long enough for a quick background check. Since he went right back to sleep, Kyle assumed he hadn’t noticed anything worth worrying about. And really, Kyle hadn’t thought he would. They were all Adam’s relatives and friends, and - Kyle excluded - Adam really didn’t seem the sort to attract a bad crowd. Something which undoubtedly disappointed a very famished demon.

Kyle made himself at home, just as Miles and Adam insisted everyone do. Miles gave a tour of the inside of the house then led everyone outside to the patio. Maybe it was the sinner in him, but Kyle felt a little envious. The backyard was extravagant, with a huge in-ground pool, a hot tub, and an outdoor kitchen with the biggest grill he had ever seen.

“Holy shit,” one of Adam’s cousins exclaimed, “do you guys roast whole fucking pigs on that thing or what?”

“Man, I’d love to try,” Miles returned, beaming like he was boasting about a child and not a piece of cooking equipment.

Like he had told Adam, Kyle had never expected to live a life of luxury on a teacher’s salary. But this was making him feel inadequate. I can get you anything you want, Ryka rumbled, sounding only half-awake. That didn’t stop his words from sounding any less sinister. All you have to do is ask.

“I’m fine,” Kyle replied, trying not to let anyone see him mumbling to himself. But Ryka needed to be answered, and quickly. He hadn’t been above cheating at the casino and he certainly wouldn’t have any qualms about killing Miles so Kyle could have the house.

When Kyle returned his attention to the conversation, he found they were still talking about the grill. “Yeah, it took six guys to get it off the truck. It’s a beast. Tomorrow we can do a little grilling for breakfast. We’ve got steaks waiting in the fridge.”

Thinking about the barely-warm, still-bleeding pieces of meat Ryka preferred, Kyle had to force himself not to gag. “You okay?” Adam quietly inquired, watching his friend turn a sickly shade of white. Kyle nodded. “Good. Because it’s time for beer.”

***

Based on the amount of alcohol Miles had purchased for the occasion, Kyle thought he expected the event to go on for at least a week. At least it seemed that way until they actually started drinking. Only two hours had passed, and one keg was already empty. Two bottles of rum had suffered the same fate. Feeling good?

“Mm.”

I bet we could find a way to make you feel even better.

Between the loud music and the buzzed chatter, Kyle didn’t think anyone would notice him conversing with Ryka under his breath. Still, he put on the Bluetooth headset he had bought for just such occasions – another replacement, as the shadow treated them like snacks - and wandered away from the pool. “Not right now, Ry.”

When the rest of them are asleep, then.

The beer made him less opposed to this idea than he might otherwise have been. “We’ll see.” He paused, looking back toward the house. Adam motioned for him to come back over while several members of the group looked on, but Kyle pointed to his earpiece.

Even over all the racket, Adam’s next words could be easily heard. With a knowing smile, he turned to his friends and explained, “He’ll be back right. He’s on the phone with his boyfriend.”

If they hadn’t been drinking, Kyle was sure no one would have said anything. But if alcohol was good for nothing else, it surely loosened tongues.

“Oh, really?” Miles nearly shouted, his voice traveling much farther than the confines of the patio, “Kyle’s a f-?”

For a moment, Kyle thought he’d gone deaf. The music, the voices, everything stopped. There was only silence. Then came the familiar sounds of tearing fabric and the leathery rustling of demon wings. Time had slowed to a crawl. Through Ryka’s sharp eyes, he noticed that Miles hadn’t even finished spitting out the horribly offensive thing he had started to say. And he quickly realized he never would.

The grill landed not three feet from where Miles stood, stopping him cold before he’d even made it through one entire syllable. With eyes like saucers, the men stared at the pile of scrap metal that, when whole, had left a foot-deep crater in the patio. Adam was the first to notice something missing from the wreckage, and the first to look up and see Ryka stalking toward them.

“Miles, shut up, shut up,” he urged his friend.

“Huh?” Miles managed, finally coming to his senses. They quickly left him again. Because he now saw what Adam had, and what their other friends had already noticed.

“Looking for this?” Ryka asked, holding the grill’s massive propane tank in one hand. In the other, lifted over his head, hovered a ball of red flame. “I was going to ask Master just to buy a little torch for us to play with, but this is going to be so much better. Like being home, almost. Especially if you all scream nicely for me while you roast alive.”

Now feeling quite sober, Adam decided to intervene. “Ryka, we’re sorry. It’s my fault. I said something unnecessary.”

“Now, now, big boy, no need to martyr yourself. You’ve been good to Master, so I’ll let you live. This fucker, though, cooks.” He pointed an accusing finger at Miles, whose knees buckled.

Sobbing and pleading for mercy, Miles sank to the ground. “I didn’t mean anything by it, I swear. Please, please, I have a wife. Kids.”

“Like I give a shit. Maybe you should think for a minute before opening your big fucking mouth, huh?”

You know, you’re starting to sound more like a drunk than a demon. Kyle actually thought it was an improvement, but Ryka didn’t agree.

“Sorry, Master.” The fire in his palm grew to encompass his forearm, and he tightened his grip on the propane tank, crumpling the handle like it was a piece of paper. “You mortals never think about the consequences. So how about a little taste of Hell? Something to remind you that no bad deed goes unpunished.”

When Adam saw Ryka preparing to puncture the tank with one of his claws, he panicked, jumping to his feet and inserting himself between Miles and Ryka. “Ryka, please don’t.” This was one of the first things Kyle had warned him never to do: pissing off an already furious demon. A huge mistake, and likely his last. But he felt compelled to try and stop Ryka anyhow. “Please. What would Kyle say?” A snarl was the only reply, and Adam winced. Time to try something else. Very quietly, so he knew only Ryka would hear, he made another attempt. “I thought we were friends – for me?”

To his complete astonishment, Ryka extinguished the flame and set down the propane tank. His tail coiled around one of his legs and his wings - still outstretched – flattened to shoulder-height. They dragged behind him as he took a step forward, away from the dangerously explosive gas canister. Wide-eyed, Adam threw his hands up and took a step back. At some point, Kyle had explained what Ryka’s submissive body language looked like, and Adam couldn’t quite believe that’s what he was seeing. That instead of a rapidly spreading firestorm.

“I’m too tired for this shit tonight,” Ryka said, covering up his embarrassment by offering only half the truth. Given that he couldn’t lie, it was the best he could do.

Almost too relieved to understand what was happening, Adam risked a few small steps back in Ryka’s direction .”I’m sorry. So is Miles. He really didn’t mean anything by it. He’s more understanding than that.” Miles got to his feet, nodding and looking apologetic. And more than a little scared for his life.

“Whatever. Fuck up again and I’ll choke all you idiots with each other’s intestines.”

Adam flinched. “Thank you, Ryka. Really.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m going back to sleep. The next person to wake me is going to die.”

To add a little more weight to his threat, Ryka reached down and grabbed a handful of what had recently been a grill. A length of molten metal flowed after it, tapering ever so slightly as Ryka lifted his hand. Adam recalled what Ryka had done with his whip at the prom, and he was sure leveling the house wouldn’t be much more difficult for him than slicing a car in half had been.

“Sweet dreams, then. We’ll save you something to drink.”

“And a steak?”

“Of course.”

Now smiling broadly, Ryka opened his fist, and the beginnings of the whip coiled back onto the pile of scrap metal, cooling and hardening almost instantly. “Nighty night.”

Kyle came to with a bloody nose, the result of having fallen face-first onto the patio the instant his body was back under his control. “Damn it, you could have at least sat down or something first.” There was no reply, and Kyle just shook his head. “I’m so, so sorry. I’ll pay for everything,” he continued, his words directed at Miles. He couldn’t bring himself to meet the other man’s eyes, so he instead stared at his shoes.

“No! I’ve got it, really.” The other man’s voice cracked, and Kyle was struck with a sudden overwhelming guilt. “And I’m the one who needs to apologize.”

“It’s fine.” Maybe it wasn’t, but it wasn’t worth the punishment Ryka’d had in mind.

Now stone-cold sober, Miles tried again. “No, no. I was wrong. I’m an asshole for almost saying that. There’s no excuse. I’m so sorry.”

This was already awkward enough; Kyle just wanted it to be over. And he’d heard Ryka force apologies out of enough people to know this one was genuine. “Forgiven,” he said. “And I should go.” Staggering to his feet, and trying not to look at the small blood stain on the ground, Kyle attempted to escape. He could get his things from Adam later. For now, he just needed to get home.

“Come on, don’t leave,” Adam called after him. He caught up to his friend, then turned him around to face the patio. “We all want you to stay. Really. Help us finish the kegs, at least.”

Kyle mustered the courage to look up at the rest of the group, and was surprised to see they were all smiling. Not the most natural smiles he had ever seen, but they were trying. “I should at least stay and explain, right?”

“Right.”

***

Once they had started drinking again, the earlier incident was, if not forgotten, completely disregarded. Around three, they had begun wandering off to bed. Kyle had offered to take the couch, but Miles was adamant about him having one of the guest rooms. Nervous as he was about another potentially painful nightmare, Kyle accepted.

But when he drifted off, he awoke in his dream to find Ryka waiting for him. “I thought you were never going to come to bed,” Ryka purred in his ear, before starting to lick behind it.

“H-hold on. I need to sleep, and so do you. And what if they hear me?” Just to make him blush, Ryka had once informed him that he wasn’t exactly quiet during their unconscious trysts.

“Even if you did get a little noisy, I don’t think they’d be stupid enough to say anything, do you?”

“Well, no, but-”

“And I’m sorry, but tonight, I get what I want.”

“Huh?” Usually, Ryka was quite obedient – and eagerly so - in these situations. But when the demon effortlessly flipped Kyle onto his stomach and pushed him into the mattress, he realized that tonight, things weren’t going to go according to his wishes. “What are you doing?”

“You haven’t figured it out yet? Well, stud, I’m going to have my way with you.”

“No, wait, Ry, hold on.”

“Can’t.” Ryka already had Kyle’s arms pinned behind his back. With all his might, which didn’t amount to much when compared to the demon’s, Kyle tried to work his wrists free. All he succeeded in doing was nearly popping his arms out of their sockets. “Quit fighting me,” Ryka snarled, shoving Kyle harder into the bed. “Or don’t. I’m fucking you either way.”

It took a few seconds of blinking to assure Kyle his eyes were still in his head. “Wait, I-”

“And don’t say ‘I thought you loved me.’ Of course I do, Master. Why else would I have sat and watched you sleep all week? Now quit struggling and I’ll make sure you feel good.”

Not that Kyle didn’t enjoy rough sex - especially the way Ryka did it - but if Ryka couldn’t immediately tell that’s what Kyle was in the mood for, he’d always at least had the decency to ask. So this was extremely unusual, and more than a little worrisome. Because Kyle really was no match for his partner, and his efforts to free himself were hardly an inconvenience for the demon.

Ryka only needed one hand to hold both his wrists, the other had turned Kyle’s head to the side before shoving it into the pillow. At least he wasn’t being suffocated, Kyle thought. But that was his only relief, because Ryka was behind him, kneeing his legs apart.

“Stop,” Kyle pleaded, attempting to sound stern.

“No.” This as he pressed himself fully against Kyle. They were both naked, so there was no layer of safety. And as always, Ryka was ready to go.

“Don’t you fucking dare.” Unsure if it would only provoke Ryka further, but determined to try, Kyle again tried to struggle free. Panting, he bucked backward, which put him dangerously close to exactly where Ryka wanted him, and where he wasn’t ready to be. Not like this.

With a snort, Ryka pushed him back into the bed, now using his whole body to pin Kyle down. Already panting, he started grinding against Kyle. He may have been more than ready - hard and dripping wet - but Kyle was panicking, every muscle clenched tight, including the one Ryka was getting far too close to violating. “No,” Kyle tried again, once more squirming to no avail.

He was so busy struggling he barely registered Ryka’s mumbled “Sorry.” Unfortunately, this was not accompanied by any actions indicating he was indeed apologetic. In fact, he tried to further decrease the already negligible space between them. “Loosen up or it’s going to hurt,” Ryka warned.

Kyle was about to renew his efforts to free himself when he suddenly recalled something Ryka had said that first night he’d tried the dream workaround. And with that in mind, Kyle let his whole body go limp as he heaved an annoyed sigh.

“Stop,” he ordered coolly. This time, Ryka obeyed. He froze, but Kyle could still feel how hard the demon’s heart was pounding. His was galloping, too. Slowly, Ryka’s frustrated growl subsided into something much more calm and steady, and Kyle understood why Ryka was being so rough with him, and why he had been so eager to cause a scene earlier. “Hungry?”

“You have no fucking idea.” With a quavering exhale, Ryka backed away, taking his hand off the back of Kyle’s head, but still not letting go of his wrists.

“I’d rather you didn’t feed off me. Not like that,” Kyle said, glaring back over his shoulder. At least Ryka had the decency to look ashamed.

“It wasn’t my first plan - my meal earlier was ruined.”

“I see. But thanks for listening to Adam.”

“Mm. Unfortunately for you, that was all the nice left in me for the night.”

“I noticed. I was hoping you’d at least let me up, though.”

It took Ryka a moment to weigh his options, but after a few seconds of thought he released his grip on Kyle’s wrists. Relieved, Kyle rolled onto his back. His relief was only temporary as Ryka leaned in close, growling low again, and told him, “Later, you’re going to the hardware store and buying a torch.”

Kyle nodded. “Do not burn my house down.”

“Fine.” Appeased, he flopped down next to Kyle.

“Um, you weren’t actually going to … you know … were you?” It was too scary to even say the word, not when it had almost happened to him twice.

“Of course not. And hungry as I am, I’m also a bit offended you were that scared. Is that what you think of me?”

“No. And that’s why I was scared – it wasn’t like you.”

“Ah.” A pause, and although Kyle was staring at the ceiling, he could feel himself being watched. Quite intently. “Did I ruin my chances for the night?”

“No. I might just need a minute to -” But as he had been warned, Ryka was out of patience. Desperate and greedy, Ryka kissed him, and when their lips parted, Kyle fell back onto the pillow, panting. “That wasn’t a minute. I-” Eyebrows raised, Ryka leaned in for another. Now he was a bit breathless, too. At least that gave Kyle a chance to finish his thought. “Thank you again for this week.”

“Yeah, yeah. Buttering me up isn’t going to work. I told you – I’m pissed off, hungry and very horny. I’ll just apologize now for what I’m going to do to you tonight.” His growl now was playful, and there was no malice in his eyes, only mischief. And desire.

Kyle shuddered, feeling butterflies dancing in his stomach. “You’re trouble, you know.”

“Mm hmm. But you don’t need to worry about that anymore. I’ve already damned you.”

With complete honesty, Kyle replied “Lucky me.”