Welcome to

We all jumped as a peal of thunder crackled through the bathroom and someone pounded on the glass stall door.

“Let’s go, Dork,” Azir barked. “Time’s up.”

“Oh, c’mon. Just five more minutes,” Dwerk whined. “Please?”

“No! Get you ass out here right now!” He sounded like he was ready to spit brimstone. I gathered my mental energy and gave the imp a shove. The room spun around me and I grabbed onto the nearest thing, which was Nick. I could feel him trembling, his thin frame tense. I let go and backed away, my own body suddenly shaking. Quickly, I shut off the water and shoved open the stall door, stepping out onto the bath mat and grabbing for a towel. It was then that I realized that Azir had not left yet. He stood in the doorway, his arms crossed and a fearsome scowl on his face as I hastily wrapped the towel around my waist.

“Well?” he asked. “Anything to report?”

I glanced down at Dwerk, the little imp cowering behind Azir’s legs. Should I tell him? I certainly had plenty to complain about, and Azir had made it sound like there would be dire consequences for Dwerk if he broke the rules. But did I really want him to be punished? After a moment, I shook my head. “Nope, everything went fine. And I’m sure he’ll tell you the same thing.”

“I don’t give a shit what he has to say,” Azir said, kicking backward and sending Dwerk squealing across the bedroom.

“Boy, you’re in a bad mood,” I said, grabbing a second towel and handing it in to Nick. “Did your appointment cancel on you?”

Azir snarled, hellfire dancing in his orange eyes. “I wish he had. The pious bastard led me on for over an hour, and then announced that my temptations had only brought him closer to the church and renewed his faith in You-Know-Who.” And just in case I didn’t know who, he pointed up at the ceiling.

“What, you can’t say God?” I asked.

“Of course I can,” he snapped. “It’s just when a demon says it, it tends to draw a lot of unwanted attention. Now, I have to go explain this waste of an evening to my superior. Come, Twat, we’re leaving.”

“Hey, you’re supposed to tell me about—” But they were already gone, leaving the faint scent of sulfur in the air. I’d have to be sure to pin him down and get my answers out of him before I agreed to anything next time.

A noise in the shower stall behind me reminded me that Nick was still in there, and I remembered the sight of him, frightened and shaking, my hand holding him against the wall, my body preparing to rape him, my lips telling him the most terrible things...I didn’t know what to say, but the room was suddenly too small, with not enough air. I fled into the bedroom, leaving wet footprints on the carpet as I quickly dried myself and pulled on my pajama bottoms and a T-shirt.

What was I going to do about Nick? I had to say something to him. I had to tell him that those were not my words, that I had tried to stop Dwerk...except that I hadn’t. I could have kicked him out, but I hesitated. How could I admit that? How could I tell him that I hadn’t been willing to forfeit two hours to save him? I heard him clear his throat and I turned.

“Nick, I—”

“It’s okay, Eddie, I know,” he said, standing in the doorway wearing just a towel. Maybe it was a trick of the light, but he looked a lot better, the bruises gone, his skin a healthy, natural color. I was so busy staring at him, it took a moment to realize what he had said.

“Know what?” I asked.

“That you didn’t say those things,” Nick said. “I could tell he was just trying to torment you. That’s an imp’s thing, you know. They get off on tormenting souls.”

“I didn’t know that,” I said, “but I should have stopped him sooner.”

“Why? He was right—that’s what an incubus is for.”

“Not when it’s my body that’s doing it,” I said, running my fingers back through my wet hair. “Look, are you okay?”

“Oh, sure, never better,” he said, but I wasn’t sure I could believe him. “I’m still hungry, but as you can see...” He turned a slow circle, letting me look at his body. “I got enough energy to repair the damage that had been done.”

“You can do that?”

“Of course. I’m not flesh and blood like you, but I’m not made of ether like Azir and Dwerk, either. I’m made of lust and pleasure, I guess. Speaking of which...” He began to walk toward me, his hips swaying suggestively. “We could finish what the imp started, if you feel up to it, that is.” He reached out toward me, but I stumbled back, almost falling onto the bed.

“Actually, it’s been a long day,” I said, stepping around the foot of the bed and backing away. “I’m sure you must be exhausted—”

“Not really,” Nick said with a smirk. “I have great endurance, as you might have noticed.”

“Um, yeah, okay. Well, I don’t, so I’m going to go to bed. There’s a guest room just down the hall. Let me get you some clean sheets—”

“That’s okay, I can find them,” Nick said, heading for the door. I could tell he was disappointed, but I just couldn’t get involved with a demon, not even casually. After a left, I waited a moment and then locked my bedroom door. I didn’t think he would do anything to me, but I had only met him a few hours ago, for crying out loud! Was I insane? I was starting to wonder.

I straightened up, putting my clothes and bedspread in the hamper. The blanket had a big cum stain on it. I was going to have to set some rules about using a towel from now on. I got the spare comforter out of the top of the closet and turned out the lights. Settling myself into bed, I stared out into the darkness for a long time, my thoughts circling around and around, but always returning to Nick. What was I going to do with him?

~~~*~

I woke to sunlight streaming in around the edge of the curtains, but after thinking about Nick for half the night, I was still tired. Good thing it was Saturday. I started to roll over and pull the covers up over my head, but moving made my asshole hurt, which reminded me of what happened last night, and there was no going back to sleep after that. Slowly, I rolled out of bed, discovering aches in my arms and shoulders and red abrasions on my wrists where Dwerk had fought against the restraints. My lower back was sore, as well as my thighs, like I had overdone a new workout...which I supposed was an apt description of the night’s events.

Walking stiffly, I made my way into the bathroom and took care of my morning business, then grabbed my robe off the back of the door and hobbled out into the hall. I paused outside Nick’s room and considered checking on him, but the thing that had kept me awake could wait until after I had a cup of coffee.

I had no idea that my asshole was involved in something like walking down the stairs, but each step was a breath-catching reminder that I had been ridden hard last night. I guess I just wasn’t cut out for anal sex. When I finally reached the bottom, I actually breathed a sigh of relief and used my sleeve to wipe away the cold sweat on my brow.

I made a bee-line for the coffee maker, adding water and grabbing one of those coffee pods out of the cupboard. While I waited for the machine to work its magic, I leaned my elbows on the counter and stared out the kitchen window, out over my backyard.

“Um...good morning,” Nick said behind me, making me jump. I straightened up and turned to face him. He was wearing the clothes I had given him, my morning paper tucked under his arm, clearly read and refolded.

“Morning,” I said. “You want some coffee?”

Nick shook his head. “Thanks, but I don’t drink coffee.”

“I might have some tea or cocoa in the cupboard,” I said. “I could look.”

“Thank you, but I don’t drink. At all. Or eat.” He seemed embarrassed by the confession, like he didn’t want to be reminded that he was different.

“Sorry, I forgot you’re a demon,” I said. The coffee maker began spitting out that hot, sweet nectar and I breathed deep of the bitter aroma. I let the last drop fall and picked up my cup, cradling the warmth to my chest as I blew across the dark liquid. I savored the first sip and sighed. Then I realized Nick was just standing there, watching me, a hungry look on his face. I cleared by throat. “So, how did you sleep? Was the bed comfortable enough?”

“Demon’s don’t sleep, either,” he said, tearing his gaze away.

“Oh, right,” I said, then I frowned. “What did you do all night?”

Demons might not eat or sleep, but they could definitely blush, his face turning red. “I looked around your house a little. I found some books and magazines to read. I figured out how to turn on the TV. And I spent a lot of time thinking about you.” He seemed like he wanted to say more, but I cut him off.

“I thought a lot about you, too,” I said, “and I think you should leave.”

He looked like I had slapped him. “Why? What did I do wrong? It’s because of the shower, isn’t it? I won’t act like that again, I promise. Whatever they do to me, I’ll act like I enjoy it. Just please, don’t make me leave.”

“No! No, that’s not it at all,” I said. “You didn’t do anything wrong, and you don’t have to pretend to enjoy anything. That’s why you have to go, don’t you see? It’s not safe for you here. Tonight, Azir will show up with another horny demon who will do God only knows what to you—”

“I know,” Nick said. “It’s perfect. The demons get entertained, your debt gets paid, and I get to feed on sex. Everyone wins.”

I shook my head, though I found it hard to form a reasonable argument. He was right. “I don’t like it,” I said finally. “What if the next one is even worse? What if they hurt you?”

“You won’t let them,” Nick said. “I know if Azir hadn’t interrupted, you would have stopped the imp. And you don’t need to worry about me so much. I’m a demon, I can handle the rough stuff. Just like you, apparently.” He gave me a suggestive smirk, but I wasn’t finding the pain in my ass all the amusing.

“Well, I hope you handle it better than I did,” I said, taking my coffee and hobbling toward the table.

“Oh, shit!” Nick gasped. “Did I hurt you?”

“No, I’m walking like this for the fun of it,” I replied. I’m a little grumpy in the morning under the best circumstances, and this definitely wasn’t.

“But- but you said—No, you didn’t, he did. Damn it! How could I be such an idiot?” He seemed so genuinely distraught, I was tempted to tell him it was all right. Before I could say anything, however, he rushed across the room and grabbed me, turning me to face the counter. I quickly set down my cup before it spilled.

“What are you—”

Nick bent me forward, until my chest was practically resting on the fake granite surface and my butt stuck out. He flipped up my robe and grabbed the waistband of my pajamas, pulling them down to my thighs.

“Whoa—Hey!” I said, trying to straighten up, but he held me down. He was very strong. My heart began to pound.

“Just relax,” Nick said, his hand cool against my bare ass. “This won’t hurt.” He positioned his hand along my ass, the tip of his middle finger brushing against the back of my balls and his thumb resting in the dimple at the top of my crack. He leaned against me as his breathing grew harsh and ragged. Then I felt a strange heat radiating from his hand, pulsing with the beat of my heart, a soothing warmth that spread up into my body. After a moment he drew back and I quickly jerked up my pajamas.

“What the hell was that?” I demanded as I spun around. I was shocked to see him pale and trembling, his brow gleaming with a sheen of sweat. “Are you all right? What did you do?”

He shrugged and staggered back over to where he’d dropped the paper. “Being an incubus isn’t all bad,” he said as he disappeared into the living room. I didn’t know what he’d meant until I picked up my coffee and took a step toward the table. The pain in my ass was completely gone.

Once I finished my coffee and felt more or less human again, I felt bad for being grumpy at him. None of this was his fault. And he had fixed whatever damage he’d done, at great personal cost, from the look of it. I put my cup into the sink and poked my head into the living room. He was slumped on the sofa, looking at the paper, but I didn’t think he was actually reading it.

“Are you okay?” I asked, stepping into the room. He glanced at me, then turned back to the paper.

“I’m fine. Are you?”

“Yeah, thanks. Look, I...” I have never been good at apologizing, especially when I’m in the wrong, but it felt important that I set things right between us. “I’m sorry for snapping at you this morning. You didn’t do anything to deserve it.”

“The hell I didn’t,” Nick said, folding the paper haphazardly and setting it aside. “I hurt you. And I was an idiot to believe anything that imp told me. Did you even want to have sex with me?”

“Honestly? No.” Nick looked like he’d been slapped again and I scrambled for an explanation. “It’s not personal, though. It’s not that I didn’t want to have sex with you, it’s that I’ve never had sex with any guy before—” Nick groaned and covered his face with his hands.

“Great, I raped a straight guy.”

“I wouldn’t put it that way,” I said. “Maybe I wouldn’t have chosen to do it, but I did tell Dwerk where the lube was. He didn’t know. And I wouldn’t call myself straight, either. A chicken-shit who’s never found the courage to explore his desires, yes, but straight? Not by a long shot. So don’t feel bad. You didn’t do anything that I wasn’t willing to let happen, okay?”

“I guess,” he said, lowering his hands. He looked over at me, standing there in my pajamas and robe. “Am I going to make you late for work?”

I chuckled. “Probably, but not today. It’s Saturday.”

“Oh. I bet you have plans,” he said. “Hanging out with your friends. Or dinner with your girlfriend. Don’t worry, I’ll just watch TV and stay out of trouble. You go ahead.”

“Thanks, but I don’t really have a lot of friends that I hang out with, and my girlfriend and I broke up a while ago.”

He tried to act nonchalant, but I could tell he was relieved. “So, what are going to do today, then?”

“Well, I had thought about cleaning out the basement, but if there’s something you’d rather do—”

“That sounds great,” Nick said. “I’ve never cleaned out a basement before. Can I help?”

“Sure, why not?” I said with a chuckle. “Let me grab some breakfast and change my clothes, and we can get started.”

Half an hour later, Nick followed me down the narrow basement steps, the old boards creaking beneath our feet. At the bottom, I turned on the bare, harsh light bulb and revealed the massive pile of boxes that contained the artifacts of my grandfather’s life.

“Wow, that’s a lot of stuff,” Nick said. “What is it all?”

“I don’t even know,” I said, lifting one dusty flap and peeking into the nearest box. It looked like clothes. “My parents helped me pack up the house and bring everything down here, but I think it was pretty full of stuff when we started. I think the idea was to have a garage sale when the weather got nicer – my grandfather died in the winter – but then we all just got busy and it never happened.”

“All right, so where do we start?” Nick asked, looking around.

“I have no idea,” I said said, regarding the mountain of boxes. There were so many. It would take me a dozen trips to the local thrift store to get rid of it all, if there was even anything worth donating. It might all be rat chewed and roach infested. Oh, God, what if I had rats down there? I would have to get traps and poison and—

“Okay, how about we look though this one, then?” Nick suggested, pulling a box off the top of the stack. He set it on the stairs behind us. “We can sort it into three piles – stuff to keep, stuff to give away, and stuff to throw away.”

“Yeah, that would work,” I said, shaking off the feeling of being paralyzed. Sometimes I had trouble breaking a large job down into manageable tasks, and I just got overwhelmed and would end up not doing anything. But one box was not too much, especially with Nick’s help. We lifted the box flaps, peering over it like archaeologists opening a tomb. The stale smell of old sweat wafted up and I wrinkled my nose.

“Hey, look at this neat hat,” Nick said, pulling a battered gray fedora out of the box. I couldn’t remember my grandfather ever wearing a hat, so it must have been up in the closet or something. Nick gave it a shake and looked inside, checking for spiders, maybe. I would have. Then he settled the hat on his head, tugging the brim down and grinning as he peered out from under it at me.

“That looks good on you,” I said. “You should keep it.” Then I realized that might give him the wrong idea.

“Oh, I couldn’t,” he said, but he didn’t take it off.

“Sure you can,” I said. “I’m going to give most of this crap away anyway. It might as well go to you. Maybe we can find you some jeans and a coat, too. You know, for when you leave.”

“Right. Good idea,” he said, but he tilted his head down so the brim of the hat hid his face from me. I felt kind of lousy for bringing it up, but it wasn’t like he thought he was living with me, right? He couldn’t think that. We barely knew each other.

We sorted through the clothes in the box, but found nothing that would fit either of us. Everything was in decent condition, though, and I was sure the thrift store would be glad to have it. After we packed it all back in the box, Nick grabbed it and headed upstairs without a word. He’d been very quiet since I mentioned him leaving, but his mistaken assumption was hardly my fault.

The first box had gone quickly enough, so I grabbed another and set it on the stairs. Inside, I found an assortment of men’s toiletries—a razor, a brush and comb, a bottle of cologne, even an old toothbrush. The toothbrush went straight into the trash bag. I gave the cologne a tentative sniff, expecting to be flooded with memories of my grandfather—they say smell is the most evocative sense, after all—but I got nothing. It smelled really good, kind of like wood and light musk, but it did not remind me of grandpa. Maybe he never wore it.

Setting the bottle aside to keep, I dug back into the box, pulling out a small plastic container with a snap on lid. As I pried the lid off, I expected to find a used bar of soap, or even grandpa’s dentures. Instead, I found a wadded up handkerchief. Curious, I peeled back the corners of the yellowed cloth to reveal an old gold coin, a pair of diamond studded cuff links, and a gold ring.

“Holy crap,” I breathed. The coin was heavy. If it was really gold it had to be worth a fortune. Same with the jewelry. Suddenly, I was very glad I’d decided to look through everything before taking it to the thrift store. “Hey, Nick, come see what I found!” I called up the stairs as I picked up the ring and examined the band. I didn’t see any marks stamped inside it, which meant it could be fake, but it seemed rather heavy for a cheap metal.

“What is it?” Nick asked, his footsteps thumping on the stairs above me.

“Check it out,” I said, trying the ring on my little finger. It was too big, so I slid it onto my ring finger, where it fit perfectly. As it settled in place, the metal quickly warming against my skin, there was a flash that lit up the darkest corners of the basement, and I heard Nick gasp.

“What did you do?” he asked, hurrying down the stairs.

“Nothing,” I said, blinking hard as green-gray ghosts drifted across my vision. “What was that?”

“Your demon mark,” he replied, grabbing my hand and examining my palm. “Something set it off—wait, where’s you get this ring? You weren’t wearing it when I left, were you?”

“No, it was in this box,” I said. “Why? Do you think it did something?”

“I don’t know,” he said, frowning. “Maybe you should take it off until we figure out what’s going on.”

“Good idea,” I said. I tried to slide the ring off, but it was stuck. I pulled and twisted and even spit on my finger, but it refused to budge. It didn’t seem that tight—my finger wasn’t turning purple or growing cold—it just wouldn’t come off. “Maybe some oil or dish soap,” I said, stepping past Nick and heading up the stairs. He followed me into the kitchen and hovered, shifting nervously as I drizzled dish washing liquid onto my finger.

“What if that doesn’t work?” he asked.

“Relax, it’s going to work,” I said, his fussing doing little to ease my own anxiety. What if it didn’t come off? Should I call the fire department and have them cut it off? Could I even let them into the house with Nick there? Was he still pumping out pheromones?

I rubbed at the ring, trying to work the soap underneath the band. I didn’t need to worry about the fire department. This was going to work.

Suddenly, the kitchen was filled with the sound of rushing wind. I looked out the window, expecting to see a tornado bearing down on the house, but the trees were still and calm.

“Holy shit!” Nick gasped and I turned toward him as he scrambled back. A black, swirling cloud had materialized in the middle of my kitchen, rolling and billowing as it flickered with red flashes of light. I just stared, my mouth hanging open, as the cloud coalesced into the figure of a man. It looked like a man, anyway, but I had a sneaking suspicion that what I was looking at wasn’t human.

As the last of the cloud evaporated, the figure turned toward me and my eyes widened. He was gorgeous! His skin had a warm, middle-eastern hue that made me think of sun and sand and wealthy sheiks living in exotic palaces. I knew very little about that part of the world, obviously. But I didn’t need to be a world traveler to appreciate his thick, dark hair, his pale, hazel eyes, outlined with bold, black eyeliner, his full, expressive lips that curved into a smile that made my knees weak.

“What is your wish, Master?” he asked, his voice deep and smooth and musical, his accent making my heart skip a beat. It took a moment for his words to actually sink in.

“Wait, what?” I asked. “Did you call me Master?”

“Oh, this is just fucking great,” Nick said from the other side of the kitchen, scowling at the stranger. “He’s a fucking genie.”