Page 9 of Hellfire & Bowties
“Guess it’s just you and me then, hon,” Luc said.
“Guess so.” Oren tried not to sound too happy.
Luc snorted. “Let’s go.”
Oren trailed after him, dragging his feet, mind going a million miles a second. Where would he be sleeping exactly? The floor? The couch? The… bed?
The idea made his breath catch, his thoughts spinning off further.
He’d be seeing Luc before he went to sleep and when he first woke up. Seeing him after his shower and before he got dressed.
Naked.
He might be seeing Luc naked.
What did the devil even look like naked? Was everything the same down there or…? None of his documentaries had ever touched on the subject. What he did know was that Luc could toss Oren around like a rag doll, and that sounded…
“We’re here,” Luc said, and Oren jumped slightly, blushing as if he’d been shouting all his thoughts out loud for everyone to hear.
Luc raised a brow at him suspiciously, and Oren redirected his attention to his surroundings, seeing a door set deep into a carved alcove. Oren stepped closer, the light from honest-to-god sconces reflecting off the heavy wood. The brass hinges were ornately carved, and the knob looked like a work of art, with twin horns curling upward.
Luc stepped up behind him, and Oren forgot what breathing was for a second as he watched the looming shadow eclipse him completely. Luc’s bare chest touched Oren’s back, caging him in against the hard door. Oren didn’t mind it at all. He bit his lip and forced himself to stay still and not rub himself back against Luc.
Luc reached around him, his hot breath hitting the back of Oren’s neck as he put a key in the lock and turned it twice. The loud clicks echoed through the empty hallway, only accompanied by the sound of Oren’s thundering heartbeats.
Luc twisted the horns and pushed in, a gentle creak announcing their entrance into the already-lit room.
“After you,” Luc said into his ear, and Oren shivered.
Given permission, Oren stepped in, stopping short the moment he could see the room properly.
It was both exactly what he had expected and nothing like it. The entire room looked as if it was carved from stone. The walls were rough and brittle, spiky and unwelcoming. There was a large four-poster bed on a raised dais to Oren’s left, but the metal columns were shaped like fanged, clawed beasts, extending their necks threateningly into the room.
A huge sofa took up one wall, a painting of hellfire above it that seemed to actually be undulating. A large desk and chair were in the corner, both surprisingly tidy in comparison to Luc’s office, and there was an open door leading to what looked to be a walk-in closet.
“So this is what the devil’s room looks like,” Oren murmured.
“On good days, sure.”
“What does it look like on bad days?”
“Oh you know… bodies, bones, blood…” Luc shrugged idly. “The depths of Hell can get messy.”
“I imagine blood is hard to get out of… cave rock,” Oren said, toeing at the floor.
There was a guttural snarl in response to his movement, and Oren’s eyes widened, the sound making the hairs on the back of his neck stand up instinctively. He looked up at Luc in question.
“Never mind him,” Luc said, seemingly not bothered.
Oren raised a brow and looked around them. “Him?”
Luc waved a clawed hand dismissively. “Let me go see what extra sheets I have. I got them back yesterday, so they should still smell like fresh brimstone.”
“Non-brimstone-smelling ones are also good.” Oren tried to keep the remark light.
Luc frowned. “You don’t like it?”
“It’s probably a Hell-acquired taste,” Oren said diplomatically, not wanting to tell him it would probably make him want to barf. “I don’t need that many anyway. It’s so hot down here that I probably just need one to drape over the sofa.”
