25. CHAPTER
CHAPTER
TWENTY-FIVE
The next few weeks were a whirlwind.
To say the least.
The funeral home information they’d found in the club’s office was indeed Hanson Funeral Home, the same establishment that had buried Seymour’s not so deceased father. He was eager to investigate, but he was refused access until Mr. Heiss and the rest of the family cleared it.
While the resurrection of a witch who had been murdered was troubling, it was not as important as following a lead to seize more of a dangerous drug—especially one that could wreck the entire city by exposing monsters to the world.
Seymour was instructed not to interfere, but Indy wouldn’t be surprised if there was a text dropped in the Monster Fucker Squad chat that a certain someone had accidentally locked himself inside a cooler with a bunch of dead bodies sometime soon.
Having new friends was amazing, and Indy loved finally being able to chat about monster drama, monster sex, and share all the memes, jokes, and other nonsense he found online. He had absolutely become that friend who shared multiple posts constantly.
Neil always replied LOL at a minimum and sent as many dumb things as Indy.
Seymour didn’t own half the apps they did, so he ignored them unless he could view whatever it was without having to sign up for something.
It was nice.
Fucking monsters was quite the potent catalyst for building lifelong friendships.
Fighting them, too, though there thankfully hadn’t been much of that lately.
There had been no sign of Nyp, the Ides, the Saviors, or the mostri ribelli since the battle. Indy never saw Mr. Mitternacht again, and after pestering Mr. Heiss by singing “Dancing Queen” by ABBA on repeat for an hour straight, he was assured Mr. Mitternacht would not be a problem again.
Being a problem, after all, required a pulse.
Well, not for everyone.
The number of oxygen-challenged folks in Indy’s life had quadrupled, the least offensive of which was King.
He was a nuisance in his own way, often a musical one, and Mr. Heiss was quick to lock him up when he was particularly annoying.
There had been a definite uptick since King discovered Hamilton and took to belting out the soundtrack.
Obviously, the king was his favorite.
As soon as Indy would hear the mournful wailing of da da dat dat da ya, he knew to go check the freezer.
While King’s shenanigans were limited to Mr. Heiss’s home, Dill and Aodnait were ever present everywhere Indy went.
Even though the ring had been split, he discovered he could still summon Aodnait and vice versa with Mr. Heiss and Dill.
Whatever world they existed in within the jewelry remained connected, and honestly Indy was glad for that.
He would never want them separated.
Last but certainly not least of Indy’s unalive companions, Gammy remained a vigilant guardian and arguably the most protective.
She found new ways to be with Indy no matter what.
She bound herself to more earrings, a necklace, some shoes, and one of Indy’s favorite belts.
Indy was positive she’d attached herself to some of Mr. Heiss’s things as well because she had a funny habit of popping up even when Indy was sure he hadn’t brought her along.
Particularly during personal moments.
Intimate moments.
If Gammy wasn’t already dead, she probably would have died from the repeated shock of seeing Indy and Mr. Heiss in compromising positions. After a long chat about boundaries, the unexpected visits thankfully ended. Gammy still made it a habit to cover her eyes whenever she walked into a room.
Otherwise, her time was spent as it had been before—catching up on her favorite shows.
She and Mr. Heiss were on the fourth season of RuPaul’s Drag Race All Stars.
He still claimed to not enjoy it, but he’d had some very big feelings about Naomi Smalls eliminating Manila Luzon.
Indy didn’t know if a demon mob boss was willing to travel across the country to personally curse a drag queen, but he didn’t question when he saw Mr. Heiss googling Naomi’s tour dates.
Indy much preferred having problems like this as opposed to being kidnapped by demons or swallowed by a dragon.
Speaking of dragons, Murray had a successful recovery thanks to Gammy’s magic. He would be staying in Somerstown until he was back at a hundred percent and remained grateful for everyone’s assistance in the battle. He even wrote handwritten thank-you notes.
The stationery was oddly familiar, but Indy couldn’t remember why.
Probably something to do with Misingno, but Indy would be fine if they never saw him again either.
The few whispers Indy had gleaned from Mr. Heiss’s chats with the twins painted a violent picture that had ended with King Zolrya turning Mr. Mitternacht’s mutilated corpse into some kind of citrus tree specifically to harvest fruit to scent urinal cakes.
Yikes.
Indy had plenty of other things to fret about without stressing over faeries, so he stayed out of monster business as much as he could and focused on the future.
Like the terms of his new deal with Mr. Heiss.
Obviously, Mr. Heiss was not going to let Indy die and promised to keep him alive until they were able to reach an agreement. He made it clear he would not create any stipulations to bind Indy beyond the minimum soul requirement in case they ever wanted to part ways, and yet…
Indy hesitated.
He’d made excuses and put it off.
He was aware enough to realize it was likely the last wall built by his abandonment issues putting up a fuss, but he couldn’t tear it down. Even with Mr. Heiss’s pledge to keep the deal as fair as possible, it didn’t feel like simply signing over his soul but far more intimate of an offer.
Like his heart.
This wasn’t like making a deal with Mr. Kalt, who had only wanted a soul and a body he could use for profit.
It was Mr. Heiss, who cared deeply for Indy.
He had saved his life countless times, ordered his impulsive takeout orders with little to no complaining, and made Indy feel like the most beautiful man in the world with nothing more than a single touch.
More than that, Mr. Heiss had done something that no one else ever had.
He’d made room for Indy in his life.
Not just in his bed, though of course Indy enjoyed that aspect immensely.
It was the way Mr. Heiss quietly made sure he was there to eat with Indy for as many of those takeout meals as he could.
It was how he often texted to check in and at least offer a laugh emoji or two in reply to the constant flow of memes.
He let Indy be Indy, extra and fabulous and ridiculous and unapologetically himself, and he never tried to make him feel small or inferior or less than.
The only time he’d even come close was telling Indy he likely had no future in baking, but only after Indy had almost burned down Mr. Heiss’s bakery once or twice.
Okay, fine, it was four times, but it wasn’t Indy’s fault that sifting flour near an open flame could create a small explosion or that caramel apparently had to be watched like a toddler in a room full of scissors.
Whatever.
Indy had never been so happy to return to Lovecraft’s.
Trying to make donuts was fun, but he’d missed dancing.
He set his own schedule and ran his shows the way he wanted them run.
He could choose his clients now, too, and having the power to tell a monster he didn’t want to have sex with to fuck off was glorious.
He hadn’t had a chance to flex it, however, because no one had solicited his intimate services since his return to the club.
Mr. Heiss had said he didn’t care if Indy went back into sex work, only that he was safe while doing so, but Indy had a feeling it wasn’t a coincidence Mr. Heiss was more affectionate in public now.
After all, Indy was highly desired and well known for his sexual acrobatics.
Mr. Heiss was better known for being an asshole and performing acrobatics with people’s internal organs when they displeased him.
It really wasn’t hard to figure it out.
Mr. Heiss would never admit it of course, but Indy was never surprised when he caught a glimpse of a glowing crown of fire from the stage during a performance.
Tonight, of course, would be no exception.
But it was special.
It was special because Indy had specifically invited Mr. Heiss to attend because he had a surprise planned for him.
It had been a bitch and a half to keep it a secret, but tonight Indy would finally give it to him.
As he took the stage for his last song of the evening, Indy looked for Mr. Heiss but didn’t see him.
Not yet, but soon.
Mr. Heiss wasn’t in the habit of disappointing him.
Indy wore rhinestone chaps with a matching thong, vest, and cowboy hat.
He strutted forward and then seductively grinded around the pole to a remix of a Dixon Dallas song, letting the bass carry him through each roll of his body.
He climbed high and then held himself aloft with one arm, tossing his hat off into the crowd while he bucked his hips like he was riding a horse.
Or, more accurately, a specific demon.
The same one he could feel watching him now.
Indy continued dancing until he’d stripped down to his thong.
He turned his back to the crowd and then bent at his waist, sliding the tiny bit of glittery nylon all the way to his ankles.
He kicked it off as he stood, glancing over his shoulder to find Mr. Heiss sitting at the table right at the end of the stage.
Instead of returning to the pole, Indy dropped to his hands and knees. He made a big show of crawling toward Mr. Heiss as he ran his tongue over his top lip, swaying his hips.
Mr. Heiss offered a small smile, his elbow up on the armrest and chin in his hand. His legs spread in an unspoken invitation, and his tail slowly twitched.
Indy let his body tip forward off the stage, his hands hitting the floor to catch himself as he flipped his body forward to land right in Mr. Heiss’s lap.