Page 43 of Hellfire & Bowties
A crossbreed, Luc guessed as he identified the markings of various demons they had around Hell. It was grotesque in the way only a hell demon could be. The stuff of nightmares.
For anyone else.
“Oh…” Oren said, cradling the hatchling close. The messy tentacles wrapped around his hands and arms. The hatchling latched on to Oren, screeching softly. “Oh you’re the most precious, aren’t you? Welcome, little one.”
Luc watched, bewildered, as Oren petted the hatchling, running his fingers over the tentacles and tickling the stony feet. Nothing threw him off. Nothing fazed him. He looked like he had been in Hell his entire life, and demons hatching was a daily occurrence.
“Look at those colors.” Oren kept yammering, uncaring of anyone else. “So bright and lovely. We should name you Paisley, hm?”
The demon squirmed and reached for Oren’s hair with a heavy fist. Oren allowed it to grab it, blowing a raspberry onto the hard stomach.
“You like that? Huh, Paisley?” Oren asked. “I think it suits you just right.”
Luc watched him coax the rest of the eggs into hatching, commanding the entirety of Hell, looking like he belonged right where he was.
And he did.
The little human had found a way under Luc’s skin, and Luc didn’t think he’d be able to ever get him out. Everything about Oren seemed like it was tailor-made for Luc, from the way he looked, to how he behaved, to just how wild and unabashed he was in bed. Inexperienced but so eager to try it all. So willing to just let Luc have him.
Luc wanted to have him in more ways than that. He wanted to wake up next to him each and every day. He wanted to go to bed with him in his arms. He wanted to kiss him whenever he wanted and turn around to see him bitching about one thing or another that hadn’t been done quite the way he wanted it.
He wanted Beast’s bows to match Oren’s, and he wanted his clothes squished and wrinkled to make room for Oren’s.
He wanted to spoil him and indulge him and love him.
Because… Shit.
He loved him.
Because that’s what this thing was, wasn’t it? The unfamiliar thing coiling in his gut. The stupid, fluttery thing in his chest whenever Oren looked at him. The need to see him smile and be the one to provide whatever he needed. The overwhelming urge to just never let him go. It was love.
The realization slammed into him like a sledgehammer, which was when Zorun walked into the cavern and pulled him aside.
“The Big Man is on the phone,” he whispered into Luc’s ear. “It’s about Oren.”
And the illusion gave way to reality.
Oren had a better place to go to.
Oren deserved better.
And Luc would do everything in his power to make sure he got it.
11
Luc
Whoever thought a stairway to Heaven was a good idea had clearly never spared actually climbing it a second thought. Especially if the staircase in question was slippery, made of a glass-like substance, and virtually see-through. It made for a long trek up the stairs, through the avalanche of fluffy clouds and gentle breeze.
Luc’s overheated skin prickled at the feeling. He was completely unused to anything but the sweltering heat of his own realm. This ‘optimal living conditions’ bullshit wasn’t for him.
The angelic choir soundtrack following him up wasn’t helping either. The entire thing, while usually mechanical and automatic for him, felt like the biggest chore.
He knew Oren was the reason.
What had seemed like the most logical option when they’d first realized Oren was in Hell by mistake now felt like the worst decision ever. Why would he let him go? Why, when he made everything so much better? When Luc wanted him to stay? When he loved him?
He didn’t want to have this conversation. He didn’t want to sit down and hammer out the logistics of Oren leaving him. But the part of him that wanted only the best for Oren told him he had no choice.
