Chapter 17
Chapter
Seventeen
Mal stood in Ethan's tiny kitchen, frowning at the coffee maker. It had been a full week since he'd agreed to stay with Ethan. A full week of him watching Ethan operate this machine every morning, and yet he still had not figured out which buttons did what. The machine gurgled ominously.
"You have to add water first." Ethan's voice carried a hint of sleep-rough amusement.
Mal's tail curled in embarrassment. He hadn't heard Ethan get up. "I know that."
"Sure you do." Ethan shuffled past him, wearing only a thin shirt and boxers, reaching for the pot. His shoulder brushed Mal's arm, sending a jolt through Mal that had nothing to do with the coffee maker's threatening noises.
"I was just..." Mal gestured vaguely at the machine. "Examining it."
"Mhm." Ethan filled the reservoir with water, movements slow and familiar. "And did you learn anything from your examination?"
"That human appliances are unnecessarily complicated."
Ethan's laugh hit something in Mal's chest that he refused to examine too closely. "Says the demon who works in Hell's bureaucracy."
"Hell's filing system is perfectly logical."
"You spent twenty minutes yesterday explaining why form 27B-6 has to be filed under 'Q'."
"That's because—" Mal broke off as Ethan yawned, stretching in a way that made his shirt ride up. Mal's gaze caught on the strip of exposed skin before he jerked it away. "Because demonic taxonomy follows different rules," he finished weakly.
Ethan hummed, measuring coffee grounds into the filter. His hair stuck up in the back, and Mal's fingers itched to smooth it down. He shoved his hands in his pockets instead.
"You don't have to make coffee for me," Ethan said softly.
"I wasn't." The lie came automatically. "I mean, I was just..." He tugged at his collar. When had Ethan's kitchen gotten so warm?
"Right." Ethan's smile held a knowing edge that made Mal want to dissolve into shadows. "You were conducting a scientific study of my coffee maker. At seven thirty in the morning. Which just happens to be when I get up for work."
"Guess you caught me trying to do a nice thing."
"How horrible for you." An amused glint shone in Ethan's eyes.
Kiss him.
The thought whispered in the back of Mal's head. He restrained himself, though he could tell that Ethan was thinking about it too, by the way he averted his gaze and quickly tried to focus on something else.
The coffee maker beeped, and Ethan reached for mugs in the cabinet above the sink while Mal busied himself studying the linoleum pattern on the floor.
After a moment, Ethan set two steaming mugs on the counter before rummaging in the cabinets. "You want breakfast? We've got cereal or..." He paused. "More cereal. I should probably go shopping."
"You should probably buy some real food."
"Easy for you to say. You don't even have to eat." Ethan grabbed a bowl. "Besides, Cookie Crunch is perfectly real food."
"It's sugar shaped like cookies." But Mal found himself smiling as Ethan poured a completely unreasonable amount into his bowl.
"Want some?" Ethan held out the box.
"I'll stick with coffee."
"Your loss." Ethan hopped onto the counter and balanced his bowl on his lap. His bare feet dangled, occasionally brushing against the cabinets below. The casual intimacy of it twisted something in Mal's chest.
This was dangerous. These quiet moments felt more hazardous than any temptation Hell could devise. Because watching Ethan eat sugary cereal in nothing but the clothes he'd worn to bed, sleep-rumpled and comfortable in Mal's presence, made Mal want impossible things.
Made him want to pull Ethan off the counter and into his arms.
Ethan wouldn't resist for a second.
Mal had heard him last night, when everything was quiet, when they were both supposed to be asleep.
Mal took a too-large sip of coffee, letting it burn away those thoughts. He couldn't think about last night. About the sounds that had drifted through Ethan's thin bedroom walls. About lying on the couch, every muscle locked rigid, listening to?—
"You're quiet this morning." Ethan's spoon clinked against his bowl.
"Just tired." The lie tasted bitter. Demons didn't get tired. But it was better than admitting where his mind had wandered.
"I thought demons didn't technically need sleep either."
"We don't." Mal tugged at his collar again. "I mean?—"
"You're still a terrible liar." Ethan set his empty bowl in the sink. "It's kind of reassuring, actually. Proves you're not very good at being evil."
"I'm perfectly evil," Mal said automatically, but the protest held no heat. How could it, when Ethan was looking at him like that? Like he saw right through Mal's attempts at maintaining demonic dignity?
Mal wasn't feeling very demonic these days.
"Sure you're evil." Ethan pushed off the counter. "That's why you're making me coffee and worrying about my breakfast choices."
He brushed past Mal on his way to the bathroom, close enough that Mal caught the lingering warmth of sleep on his skin. Close enough to reach out and?—
Mal gripped his mug harder. This was torture of a kind that had no equal in Hell. Being close enough to touch, to taste, and having to hold back.
For Ethan's sake, he reminded himself. To keep that bright soul safe from corruption.
Even if that soul called to him like a light house in the dark.
Mal stood in the cereal aisle, consulting his mental notes from six straight hours of watching various cooking shows on Netflix. Tomorrow morning, when Ethan searched his fridge and his cupboards, he would find healthier breakfast options there. This, Mal vowed to himself.
Except that everything seemed easier on TV than in reality.
And maybe Mal should have taken physical notes rather than mental ones.
"Can I help you find something, dear?"
He turned to find an elderly woman smiling up at him. Her cart contained the sort of sensible shopping that he'd been trying to do.
"What's good for breakfast?" The question slipped out before he could stop it. "Something that isn't just sugar pretending to be food."
"Cooking for someone special?" Her smile turned knowing.
"No!" He said quickly. "I mean, it's just... a friend who doesn't take care of himself properly."
"Mmhmm." She patted his arm. "The oatmeal is at the end of the aisle. Add some fresh berries, maybe a drizzle of honey. Much better than those sugary cereals."
Mal found himself following her advice, then adding eggs and whole grain bread because that seemed smart. He even remembered to grab a gallon of milk, and when he left the store, he was accompanied by a sense of accomplishment.
Back at Ethan's apartment, Mal hummed to himself while arranging his purchases. Oatmeal within easy reach. Fresh berries and eggs in the fridge.
Tomorrow morning, he'd prove that breakfast could provide more than a sugar rush.
His lips curved, imagining Ethan's reaction to finding actual food in his kitchen. The warmth in his chest felt dangerously close to pride.
That was when he noticed the envelope on the coffee table.
The paper bore Hell's official letterhead, complete with animated flames that flickered in the afternoon light. It hadn't been there when he'd left.
Mal's satisfaction evaporated as he picked up the envelope.
He'd known Hell wouldn't leave him alone forever, but he'd hoped to have more time.
He'd hoped…
He broke the seal, and a file slipped out.
CASE STUDY: CORRUPTION OF A PURE SOUL SANCTUM PROTOCOL 667 CLASSIFIED DOCUMENT
What was this ?
Mal's mouth went dry as he began to read.
Subject: Pure Soul #667-89B
Collection Date: REDACTED
Status: Phase 3 (Critical)
Initial Assessment:
- Exceptional luminosity rating (98.7%)
- Strong resistance to standard corruption methods
- Displays persistent empathetic response despite isolation
- Continues attempting to comfort other souls in holding
Implementation of Protocol 667:
Primary focus on systematic extraction of radiance through the Sanctum's soul-stripping apparatus. Subject's light must be harvested carefully to avoid complete dissolution.
Progress Notes:
Day 1-7: Standard isolation and sensory deprivation produced minimal results.
Day 8: Initiated mechanical extraction via the Sanctum's crystalline siphons. Subject's screams registered at unprecedented decibel levels. Radiance readings fluctuated but remained frustratingly high.
Day 15: Implemented the Echo Chamber protocol. Subject forced to witness the corruption of lesser souls. Notable observation: Subject attempted to reach through barriers to comfort others even while experiencing maximum pain levels.
Day 23: Connected subject to the Resonance Engine. This appears promising—each pulse strips away layers of light while keeping the core intact. Subject's attempts to resist are weakening.
Concerning Development:
Subject's radiance levels dropping faster than anticipated. Risk of complete soul-death at 47%. Standard procedure suggests terminating the extraction, but continued processing has been authorized.
Current Status:
Subject shows signs of unique resistance to corruption. While most pure souls either turn or perish within the first month, this one maintains a peculiar resilience. Prolonged torture has not been effective.
Recommendation:
Increase voltage through the Resonance Engine despite risk of soul-death. The subject's unusual resilience has attracted interest. In the case of its survival, its corrupted form may prove promising.
The pages slipped from Mal's fingers and his hands shook as he picked them back up. It was then that he noticed there were photographs attached to the file.
The first image showed the Resonance Engine in nauseating detail, a towering construct of black crystal and thorned metal. At its center, suspended in a cage of obsidian spines, hung something too bright to look at directly. A pure soul in the process of being stripped of its light.
But while that was unsettling, it was the next image that made Mal want to retch.
The same soul, hours later. Its light had dimmed to reveal a form that was almost human-like, except that dark energy crackled through the fading radiance, twisting it into something else. Something corrupted.
Mal's tail coiled tight around his leg as his eyes caught on the annotation below the image:
SUCCESSFUL CORRUPTION - STAGE 4
Documented emergence of demonic characteristics following complete corruption of pure soul. Subject ready for processing into Hell's ranks after memory wipe.
The words blurred. Mal read them again. And again.
This was what happened in the Inner Sanctum.
This was what would happen to Ethan if?—
The thought hit Mal like a bucket of holy water. His knees gave out, and he sank onto the couch, the pictures falling from his numb fingers once again. He could still see them: the machinery, the spines digging into a radiant soul…
He pressed his palms against his eyes but couldn't block out the images. Couldn't stop imagining Ethan in that cage of crystal and shadow, his bright soul being stripped away until nothing remained but darkness.
The sound of keys in the lock barely registered.
"Mal?" Ethan's voice seemed to come from very far away. "What's wrong?"
Mal couldn't look at him. Not while he was still seeing the torture device Hell wanted to put him into.
"Hey." Ethan's footsteps crossed the room. "You're scaring me."
The couch dipped as Ethan sat beside him. A warm hand touched Mal's shoulder, and Mal lowered his own hands from his eyes.
"Hey," Ethan said again, and before Mal could protest, Ethan's arms wrapped around him. The human slid closer, practically climbing into Mal's lap as he pulled him into an embrace.
Mal's breath caught. He should push Ethan away. Should maintain distance. Should...
But Ethan's warmth seeped into him, banishing the chill that had gripped him since reading that file. Without meaning to, Mal's arms circled Ethan's waist.
"Talk to me," Ethan murmured against his hair. "Tell me what's going on."
Mal's throat closed up. If Ethan knew what Hell had planned for him...
"I can't let them have you." The words escaped before Mal could stop them. His arms tightened around Ethan's waist. "I won't."
"Have me?" Ethan pulled back just enough to study Mal's face. His weight settled more firmly in Mal's lap. "You mean Hell?"
Mal nodded, unable to find words. His gaze caught on the papers scattered across the floor, evidence of what awaited pure souls in the Inner Sanctum.
Ethan followed his look. "What are those?"
"Nothing." Mal tried to reach for the papers, but Ethan caught his hand.
"Don't shut me out." Ethan's fingers threaded through his, causing a tingling sensation in Mal's chest that undid something within him.
He buried his face against Ethan's shoulder, breathing in the familiar scent of books and coffee. Maybe if he held on tight enough, he could keep Ethan safe. Keep that bright soul from being corrupted.
"Tell me," Ethan whispered, his fingers still laced through Mal's. "Whatever it is, we'll figure it out together."
Mal lifted his head, meeting Ethan's concerned gaze. How could he explain what he'd learned? That Hell didn't just want Ethan's soul; they wanted to break it down, strip away everything that made him who he was.
"I found out what they do to souls like yours in Hell's Inner Sanctum." His voice cracked. "The things they... the machine they use..."
"Hey." Ethan's free hand came up to cup Mal's jaw. "I'm right here. I'm safe."
"But for how long?" Mal's fingers dug into Ethan's shirt. "If Hell gets you…"
"Hell won't have me." Ethan's thumb traced along Mal's cheekbone. We've got a plan, remember? You'll never get to collect."
Right. Their plan.
If they just stuck to that…
"I can't lose you," Mal whispered.
Ethan's eyes softened. "Then don't push me away."
He pressed soft lips to Mal's, and Mal could not find it in himself to resist. His arms wrapped around Ethan, pulling him closer as Ethan's fingers tightened in his hair. He tasted like the mint tea he always drank at work, and something deeper that made Mal's head spin.
A small sound escaped Ethan's throat, and the last of Mal's restraint shattered. He needed this—needed to hold something real and warm and alive against the horror of what he'd read. Needed to feel Ethan's heartbeat, strong and steady under his palm.
He felt as if Ethan's light wrapped around them both, warm and welcoming, and Mal found himself drowning in it.
Ethan knew he should pull away. They'd agreed to be smart about this, to give Hell nothing to see. But Mal's lips were soft against his, and the demon's hands clutched at his shirt like he might shatter if Ethan let go.
Something was wrong. Even through the haze of wanting, Ethan could feel it in the tremors that ran through Mal's body, in the desperate edge to his kiss. Whatever Mal had found in those papers had shaken him deeply.
Ethan shifted in Mal's lap, trying to get closer, to somehow wrap more of himself around the demon. To shield him from whatever horror had put that lost look in his eyes. His fingers tangled in Mal's hair, drawing a sound from the demon's throat that made heat pool in Ethan's stomach.
A voice in his head whispered that this was dangerous. That someone from Hell might be watching. That every touch brought them closer to crossing a line they couldn't uncross.
But then Mal's hands slid under Ethan's shirt, warm fingers mapping the skin of his back, and Ethan arched into the touch.
He'd been wanting this all week. Every day and especially every night.
"We have to stop," Mal breathed against his lips.
But he didn't pull away. His hands stayed under Ethan's shirt, and his eyes held such raw need that Ethan's heart stuttered.
Words tumbled out before Ethan could stop them. "I've been thinking about what counts as losing my virginity." His face burned, but he made himself continue. "And I've decided that nothing short of actual penetration is going to qualify."
Mal's breath hitched. His pupils had gone wide, dark with want, but uncertainty still clouded his expression.
"Hey." Ethan pressed their foreheads together, breathing in that hint of wood smoke. "I want you to stop thinking about Hell for ten minutes. Can you do that?"
"Ten minutes?"
"Maybe fifteen." Ethan's fingers traced along Mal's jaw. "However long it takes to make you forget about everything except this."
"Ethan..."
"I need this," Ethan whispered. "And I think you do too."
Mal's hands tightened on Ethan's hips, and for a moment they just breathed each other's air, balanced on an edge that Ethan desperately wanted to tip over.
And then Mal's lips found his again, and they were falling.
Fuck yes .
Blood rushed to Ethan's groin as the demon's teeth pulled on his lower lip. His hands sank into Mal's hair and found his horns, gripping tightly as he ground his hips down without thinking, delighting at the answering heat that met him there.
A needy little sound escaped Mal, and then Ethan's world tilted as Mal stood, lifting him effortlessly. Ethan's legs wrapped around Mal's waist even as his heart raced at this display of inhuman strength, at the way Mal held him like he weighed nothing.
That was hot.
Even more so when Mal carried him to his room and laid him down on his bed.
And then the demon climbed over him, looking down at Ethan as if he couldn't believe he was real.
Ethan's heart pounded in his chest.
No one had ever looked at him like that. Like he was special. Beautiful. Worth protecting. The intensity of the gaze stole the breath straight out of his lungs.
But he didn't need breath. He only needed Mal.
Reaching up, he pulled the demon down on top of him. Mal came willingly, his weight settling between Ethan's legs as they kissed again, slower now, savoring each other and these minutes they were stealing for themselves.
Ethan's fingers found the buttons on Mal's shirt, slipping them open with clumsy eagerness. He wanted to run his fingertips over smooth skin and firm muscle and he loved the way Mal shivered as Ethan slid a hand under his shirt and up to his shoulder. Loved the feel of Mal's lips trailing kisses down his neck. Loved how solid Mal felt against him, heavy and warm and real.
For once, this wasn't just a fantasy Ethan was indulging. For once, someone was here with him, holding him and kissing his skin and making sounds of pleasure that made Ethan's head whirl because they were because of him and him alone.
His hands traveled down, brushing along the bulge that strained against the fabric of Mal's pants. He palmed it, enjoying the sharp intake of Mal's breath as Ethan stroked his length through the material. It felt big, felt hot and heavy and like something Ethan wanted so badly his head spun with the sudden intensity of his desire.
He fumbled with the button of Mal's fly, cursing as he struggled with it.
"Here." Mal leaned back to help Ethan undo it. Then he paused.
"What?" Ethan asked.
Mal's cheeks darkened. "It's... a bit different. From what humans have."
"So?" Ethan sat up, reaching for Mal's zipper again. His blood hummed with anticipation of what he'd discover underneath the demon's clothes. "Show me."
Mal shoved his pants down and Ethan stared.
Oh fuck.
Ethan sucked in a breath.
Mal's cock was long and dark and ridged with bumps that ran all the way from base to tip. And it was slick, glistening slightly with a fluid that made it look like it was ready to slide into Ethan's hole on the spot. The thought of that thick shaft stretching his ass sent a jolt straight to Ethan's dick.
Ethan reached forward without hesitating. He wrapped a hand around it and stroked slowly, marveling at the heat of it, at the smooth texture of those ridges, at the silken feel of that fluid coating Mal's length.
He wanted it.
God, he wanted it.
Mal shuddered above him as Ethan stroked him more firmly.
"Fuck, Ethan," he whispered, his breath coming faster.
The sight of him, head thrown back, eyes half-lidded and dark with want as he rocked into Ethan's grip, sent a bolt of lust straight down Ethan's spine. It was the hottest thing Ethan had ever seen.
Just for a moment, Ethan considered that it might be worth losing his soul to take that cock inside him. Just for a second, before reason reasserted itself.
Before he remembered that he had more than one hole.
"Can I...?" Ethan's voice came out rough, and his face burned as the question hung between them. But he made himself ask: "Can I suck you off?"
Mal's hips bucked into his grip, and Ethan took his reaction as a yes. With shaking fingers, he guided Mal toward him, positioning his cock just inches away from his lips. He licked experimentally at the tip, loving how Mal's thighs quivered. He did it again, letting his tongue swirl over the head in a way that drew more precome from its slit. The flavor exploded on his tongue, dark like smoke, rich like burnt caramel.
He'd never guessed demon cock would taste like that.
He wanted more.
With a groan, Ethan opened his mouth wider, sucking the tip in.
Above him, Mal swore, low and guttural. His tail lashed against Ethan's thigh, sending shivers of heat straight to Ethan's groin, and his fingers twisted in a death-grip around the bedsheets.
Ethan had never had anyone's cock in his mouth, but he decided he liked it, and he liked the effect he was having on Mal even more.
Determined to please, he sucked harder, taking more of Mal's length into his mouth, sliding along his shaft until he almost choked himself trying to fit more. Saliva dripped down his chin. The taste of smoke filled every inch of his mouth and throat, intoxicating him until his entire world narrowed to the sensation of fullness and the sounds Mal made as Ethan bobbed his head up and down.
"Fuck. Ethan. Fuck. You—" Words spilled from Mal's lips as his hips bucked. He was clearly struggling to hold himself back from fucking Ethan's mouth in earnest, allowing himself nothing but a shallow thrust, and Ethan groaned as those bumps rubbed deliciously against the inside of his mouth. He could only imagine how amazing they'd feel inside his ass. They weren't rigid enough to hurt, just firm enough to stimulate. And that fluid...
Mal's cock pulsed in his mouth. "Close," he grated. "Ethan, I'm..."
Yes! Come for me. Let it happen . Ethan tried to say those things, but they came out garbled, muffled by the hard flesh filling him up. So he continued to suck instead. Tasted more of that smoky precome, felt more heat building at the base of Mal's shaft as it throbbed in his grip.
Come for me , he begged silently, running a soothing palm over Mal's thigh. Please...
Mal gasped, and his hips stuttered, pushing deeper than before into Ethan's mouth. The first spurt of hot come caught Ethan off guard, and some of it dribbled down his chin as Mal pulled back, shooting the rest of his release across Ethan's tongue. It tasted exactly as it should: like smoke, like sin and temptation, and Ethan moaned as he swallowed, loving the way Mal watched him through hazy eyes.
He licked the remaining come off his lips, reveling in the way Mal trembled above him. His own cock ached for attention, but before he could reach between his legs, Mal collapsed onto him, grinding their hips together, and Ethan's mind went blank with want. Mal kissed the taste of himself from Ethan's mouth, then slid lower, hands opening Ethan's pants, freeing his painfully hard dick.
When Mal's lips closed around the tip of Ethan's cock, Ethan nearly lost it on the spot. He cried out, clutching the sheets as Mal took him in, sucking him deeper, and holy shit, that mouth was talented.
Ethan had only ever fantasized about having another man's lips on his cock.
Reality was different from his fantasy in several ways.
For one, it wasn't just Mal's mouth on him. Mal's hands wrapped around Ethan's shaft, stroking him firmly while his tongue swirled over the sensitive head with maddening precision.
For another, Mal's other hand teased the spot just behind Ethan's balls, rubbing circles there that made Ethan's vision blur.
Ethan had always imagined that his orgasm would build slowly, but within a minute, he was shaking, and when Mal's fingers pressed into that tight ring of muscle between his cheeks...
Ethan came apart.
He arched off the bed as his climax ripped through him, crying Mal's name as he emptied himself into the demon's warm mouth in shudder after shudder of white-hot release. Pleasure rolled over him in bursts, carrying his mind somewhere far away until he floated on its tide, blissfully empty of everything except the feeling of Mal's lips gently brushing the heated skin of his thighs.
Slowly, he drifted back down to earth.
"Fuck," he whispered when he regained control of his voice. His whole body felt limp and heavy with satisfaction.
"Indeed." Mal chuckled, rolling them over until Ethan was on top of him. "Feel good?"
"Mhm." With his ear pressed to Mal's chest, Ethan could hear the demon's heartbeat. "Perfect."
Sadly, things didn't remain perfect for long.