Page 21 of Astaroth

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Aster (Bat Emoji):What in fresh hell are they screaming about?

Briar:Apparently my shoes weren’t delivered

A door slammed. Heavy footsteps hit the carpet in the hall, growing louder, closer. Aster rapped his knuckles on the open door. He leaned against the inside frame, adjusting faceted crystal cufflinks on a handsome black suit jacket, and gave Briar a patient once over, smiling fondly.

“Hi,” he said, too softly. “Your shoes are downstairs in the sitting room. I had no idea they were, in fact,yourshoes until twenty seconds ago. We got a package, I signed for it, and then went back to my breakfast.”

“You should probably tell them that,” Briar said. He rolled his lips together, smothering laughter.

Staring was entirely unavoidable. Aster wore black on black—crisp, collared shirt tucked into tailored dress pants, jacket lined with abalone buttons, and shiny laceless boots on a modest heel. His hair was freshly sheared, earlobes pinned with dainty opalescent studs, and his hands were stacked in silver rings: bands and middies and chunky sigil signets. Charcoal darkened his eyes, just so. Briar suddenly felt very mediocre in his fancy dress.

Aster glanced over his shoulder. He opened his mouth, pausing on an inhale as another loud crash came from downstairs, and then pulled out his phone. He sent one text. Waited. Sent another.

“What?” Luca screeched.

Laughter—Jennifer’s laughter, specifically—filled the air. Footsteps banged the stairs. Luca stormed into Briar’s bedroom, smacking Aster on the back of the head upon arrival. A pair of normal-looking velvet shoes dangled from two fingers.

“I’ve been on the brink of an aneurism,” they snapped, shaking the shoes at Aster. One stray loc dangled over their ear. Their lips folded into a deep frown, eyes narrowed. “This whole time,this whole time,you’ve known where these were and just decided not to tell me? You’re impossible, Aster. A royal pain in my ass. Come here, Briar. Give me your foot—no, the other one. There. If they don’t fit, I’ll scream, I swear it.”

Aster rolled his lips together. His shoulder shook with poorly concealed laughter.

“They fit,” Briar said. If they hadn’t, he probably would’ve lied.

“We’re not finished,” Luca said, shooing Aster with a flick of their wrist. “Go get the car before I throw something at you.”

Aster offered a tiny, fractured laugh. He met Briar’s eyes before he slipped away.

Luca motioned for Briar to stand. He curled his toes in the new shoes and twisted his fingers together. Delicately embroidered flowers decorated the garment, and sheer sleeves belled open, slipping over the top of his hands. Luca cinched a wide, gold collar around his throat, concealing a mouth-shaped bruise. They dusted shimmer on his cheeks and nose. Dabbed balm on his lips, too.

They tsk’d, studying Briar’s hands. “I had a magnificent color picked out, but we’ve lost our window of opportunity. Naked nails will have to do. Are we all squared away? Clippings bandaged? Stockings haven’t fallen, right?”

Briar nodded.

“Good. Off you go, then. Take care of those damn shoes,” they said, and heaved a sigh, cradling their chin in their palm. “Thisoutfit is one of my highest achievements to date. Go on, go on, before I insist on a photoshoot.”

Briar smiled his thanks, grabbed the coat Luca had chosen for him, and made for the staircase. Aster waited at the door, wrapped in his standard peacoat. His eyes swept from Briar’s shoes to his face, lingering on hips and chest and throat. Being openly admired, although appreciated, stirred his stomach into knots. He could not function properly with Aster’s gaze upon him, and found his thoughts cycling through memories of the black-walled shower, their heated encounter in the library, how they’d come together in the atrium pool.

No wonder people lose their minds, he thought.Pleasure is addictive.

Of course, Aster drove a ridiculous car. A pearl white Escalade, to be exact. The seats were plush beige leather and a touchscreen spanned the dashboard. Briar assumed he’d have a chauffeur, but Aster shrugged off his coat and hopped into the driver’s seat, sliding the gearshift intodrive.

They talked politely. Aster mentioned the weather and Briar nodded. Briar commented on the approaching solstice, and Aster hummed. An unspoken language filled the car. Briar stole glances at Aster’s lap, pants tight around his thighs. He noticed the way Aster’s palms rested on the steering wheel, fingers drumming, thumbs swiping back and forth. Music played. Classical, which Briar found fitting, somehow. He caught Aster’s eyes in the blurry reflection on the window, settled on his crossed legs, peering at the place where the fabric creased around his knees. Another neatly curated conversation came and went—we’ll be there soonandI hope you enjoy museumsandthank you for joining meandit’s a full moon tonight—but Briar knew the intention behind Aster’s flighty gaze. He recognized his own hunger, stinging like a papercut. Movement was catalogued, as if every time either of them tipped theirhead or shifted their legs or repositioned their hands, a match was struck. Almost lighting. Flickering out. Sparking and dying. Leaving a curl of smoke in the air.

Finally, Briar managed to bypass his bashfulness. “You’re particularly beautiful tonight,” he said, and cleared his throat, watching city lights blink past the window. He wanted to sayyou make it hard to breathe. He wanted to sayI have become something new because of you.

One side of Aster’s mouth lifted. “You remind me of Eden,” he said, and flicked on the left-hand blinker. Briar turned toward him, tipping his head curiously. “When the universe was bare, and the sun had just flared to life.”

Briar’s chest tightened. His lips hovered apart. “I remind you of Genesis?”

Aster slowed to a stop at the valet booth in front of the sharply arranged Denver Museum. “Yes,” he said, matter-of-factly, and glanced at Briar as he unclicked his seatbelt, “you do.”

For a moment, Briar’s legs refused to work. He sat there, digesting an ethereal compliment, and thought, briefly, of fate. Had Briar’s future always involved this timeline? This meeting? This Demon King? Or had they met by chance, miraculously? His door swung open.

“Here,” Aster said. He draped Briar’s coat over his shoulders, tugging it into place. “Are you warm enough? The entrance isn’t far.”

“I’m fine,” Briar assured.When the universe was bare. He blushed terribly.

Inside, white paint spanned the oblong walls. The museum was assembled like a crooked body, all elbows, and high, narrow ceilings. Faraway stars gleamed through triangular windows. Servers drifted through each exhibit, carrying trays stacked with champagne flutes and gaudy appetizers. Other guests roamed, dressed in elaborate evening wear—skyscraper heels, dignifiedsuits, appropriately bejeweled necks and wrists. Aster and Briar dropped their coats at the check-stand, and followed a slanted staircase toward an exhibit labeled, simply:Armor