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The demon walks into the bar at the first intermission of the Avalanche-Sharks game. Gabe has money on this game—not much, because he doesn’t have much money in the first place, but still—and he’s trying to listen to the analysis because he wants to know the odds of the Sharks getting their shit together over the next forty minutes. Demons are distracting, though.
This one is fresh out of hell, too, smoke still rising off of his leather jacket and ashes tracking behind him as he crosses the room. He stands next to Gabe’s barstool, tapping his fingers on the surface of the bar and studying the row of bottles behind it.
“I take it I’m in a college town,” he says after a moment.
Gabe isn’t sure if the demon is talking to him or to himself, but he’s always had a habit of filling awkward silences. “Well. It’s Denver. But you’re next to the DU campus.”
“Shit. Out of all the bars in that city I show up outside this one.” The demon licks his lips, and there’s one more sign of his nature—his tongue is too long, too deep a shade of red, pointed at the tip. “Since I’m here I might as well, though.” His gaze flicks to Gabe. “What are you drinking?”
Gabe blinks at his glass and then at the demon again. “My sadness.”
The demon stares at him for a very long moment. “Can you be a little more literal?”
“It’s a dark ‘n stormy.”
“Appropriate.” The demon nods and turns to the bartender, who made a cautious approach while he was talking to Gabe. “I’ll have a dark ‘n stormy, and also what is in a dark ‘n stormy.”
The bartender gives Gabe a wary look, like any of this is his fault. “Dark rum and ginger ale.”
“Are you serious?” The demon turns back to Gabe again, this time with a look of disgust. “Rum and ginger ale?”
Gabe shrugs. “I like it.”
“I’ll try one anyway,” the demon says, still staring at Gabe, “but I won’t enjoy it. Top shelf for the rum.”
The bartender reaches for a glass. “Please don’t burn the bar down, okay?”
“That’s not on my agenda for the evening. Thank you.” The demon moves his hand and a fifty-dollar bill appears in it. He pushes it across the bar, still not looking away from Gabe. “Keep the change.”
Gabe clears his throat and looks back up at the TV. The Sharks are just taking the ice again. They do not look like they were inspired over intermission.
“What’s your name?” The demon has pulled a stool up next to him, and is still staring. “You can call me Erik.”
“My father told me never to give my name to a demon.”
Erik rolls his eyes. “What is this, the 1400s? You know that only your full legal name binds you to anything.”
Gabe finishes the last of his drink and rubs the back of his neck. “Right. And the phrasing is important, too. Like how you said it. You can call me, not my name is.”
“Smart boy.” Erik smiles, too wide for his face. Usually demons have too many teeth for their mouths, too, but he’s missing a few, creating a gap that that tongue peeks through.
“You can call me Gabe.”
“Thank you, Gabe,” he says with excessive courtesy. “I will.”
Gabe knows that asking demons questions is dangerous. He should keep to himself, watch the game, lose his money, pay his tab, and go home so he can make it to his classes in the morning. The demon—Erik—can’t manipulate him into anything if he doesn’t talk.
But he’s a few dark ‘n stormies in, and the game is going very badly. He rests his chin on his fist, elbow propped on the bar, and glances at Erik.
Erik is chewing his way through a giant plate of nachos usually attempted by frat brothers only. Gabe didn’t notice him ordering it at all. “Where did that come from?” he asks before he can think.
Ask a stupid question, get a slow blink from a demon. “The kitchen. Want some?”
“It’s not cursed, is it?”
Erik rolls his eyes. “I’m not here to entrap you, little human Gabe. And even if I was, I’d aim higher than cursed nachos. I have some dignity, you know. I have a reputation to maintain.”
Gabe nods. “In hell.”
“Of course in hell. Where else? That’s where it counts.” Erik pushes the plate toward him. “They’re completely non-cursed. Just a little stale, and you barely notice through that nice plastic-y cheese. They’re not bad, really.”
“Have you had the potato skins?” Gabe carefully extracts a chipful of toppings from the pile and eats it. “This place has potato skins to die for.”
“Let’s make that happen.” Erik’s eyes unfocus for a moment, and at the other end of the bar, the bartender suddenly turns away from the drink he’s mixing and goes to the POS to enter an order. “There we go. Potato skins on the way.”
“Don’t mind-control the bartender!”
Erik looks genuinely confused. “Why not?”
“It’s unethical! It’s rude!”
“It’s efficient.”
Gabe shakes his head and takes another nacho, while Erik drinks and makes a face. On the TV, a Sharks player misses the net wide.
“You have money on the game?” Erik asks.
“Stop reading my mind!”
“I’m not. You have the look of someone who’s gambling and losing. I’ve seen it a million times.” Erik pauses, brow furrowing. “Actually more than that. I could do the math and get an exact number if you want.”
“I don’t.” Gabe slumps in his seat. “I shouldn’t have bet on the Sharks.”
“That’s a good rule for life, really. Unless you’re talking about West Side Story. The Sharks were obviously superior in that.” He frowns again at Gabe’s blank look. “West Side Story? The movie? Tony, Maria, ‘Tonight, Tonight,’ Rita Moreno?”
“I’m from Sweden,” Gabe says flatly. “That sounds very American.”
“Oh, it is. An American classic. I’ll—here, look.” He gestures with one hand and a VHS tape appears in it. “Is this still the technology of the day?” Gabe shakes his head. “Fuck. Which—oh!” He smiles and gestures again, the cassette turning into a DVD case. “Better?”
“Sure.” Gabe takes the case carefully. “So I should watch this when I get home?”
“Only if you want to. But it’s a classic.”
“Hmm.” Gabe glances at him. “Are you going to come over and watch it with me? Is that the play to get into my house and steal my soul?”
Erik sighs and pushes the nacho plate aside as the bartender approaches with the potato skins. “I’m not here for your soul, kid. I promise. You’re as safe with me as is practically possible.”
“Then why are you here?”
Erik hums to himself and takes a bite of a potato skin. “Oh, these are good. You were right. Have one.” He wipes his mouth quickly. “I’m not avoiding the question, they’re just very good. Perfect amount of sour cream. My compliments to whatever cook is in the back slopping things on plates.”
“I know they’re good. That’s why I recommended them.” Gabe helps himself to one, chewing slowly despite how it burns his tongue. The pain is a guilty pleasure sometimes, like tonight, when he’s making dumb decisions anyway. “Anyway. Tell me why you’re here.”
“Well.” Erik licks his fingers. “Since you’re so insistent. I’m actually here on sabbatical.”
Gabe frowns, trying to chase down that word in his mind. “Ah—that’s like a vacation?”
“A professional vacation. Taking a break from work, but still working on special projects or something. Doing research. I think a lot of humans use it to write books.”
“Are… you writing a book?”
“No. We don’t do a lot of reading in hell.” Erik points at his glass and it refills itself. He does the same for Gabe. “But I am doing research.”
“On what?”
“Contemporary humanity, their passions and sins.” Erik takes a dainty sip and flicks his tongue out to catch a droplet from the rim of the glass. “I don’t have to do any soul collection, just observe and make notes to report back to the bosses downstairs.”
“Oh.” Gabe looks back up at the game. The Sharks are getting absolutely destroyed. “Well, let me know if you’re willing to pay a research assistant. I just lost my grocery money.”
“Demons generally don’t pay for stuff. We just torture you until you agree to anything to end the pain.” Erik smiles at him, a little too cheerfully for the words, but Gabe is drunk enough that he can’t blame him. “Still. I like you. You introduced me to a childish but acceptable drink and a very good item of bar food.”
“Children shouldn’t be drinking, really.”
“Hush, don’t ruin this.” Erik taps his fingers on the edge of the bar. “How much did you lose?”
“Fifty dollars American.”
“Oh, that’s easy.” He gestures and produces another of the fifty-dollar bills he gave the bartender before. “Here you go. A token of appreciation. Don’t spend it all in one place.”
“I will, though.” Gabe folds it up and tucks it into his pocket, the movements slow and awkward with booze. Fuck, it’s all catching up to him at once. “The grocery store.”
**
Gabe wakes up at home the next morning with an Uber receipt in his phone and his clothes all still on. A gentlemanly demon, as promised. He figures that’s it, he won’t see that particular denizen of hell again. They’re not known for checking in on people unless they’ve claimed a soul.
The West Side Story DVD is lying on the table next to his phone. He checks out a DVD player from the library and watches it; it’s not as good as the demon made it sound, very dated and kind of racist, but the songs are nice. He puts it on a shelf and moves on.
A few weeks later, he’s pregaming his morning classes with coffee at a shop by campus when someone slides into the chair across from him.
“Hello, Swedish gambler.” Erik grins at him, tongue politely tucked away this time. “How are things?”
“Things are good,” Gabe says automatically. “How are you?”
“Still on sabbatical. Gathering data. Taking notes.” He points at Gabe’s coffee. “What’s your poison?”
“Red eye.”
“Oof. Up all night?”
Gabe nods sadly. “Studying. I’m bad at calculus.”
“Calculus.” Erik smiles beatifically. “One of our finest inventions.”
“Really?”
“Well, we put the idea out there, anyway.” Erik shrugs and stands up. “Hold that thought. I’m going to get one of those.”
Gabe doesn’t have any particular thoughts to hold. His brain is empty and sore. He sips his disgusting coffee and dissociates until Erik comes back, a drink in one hand and a plate of scones in the other.
“Here you go,” he says, pushing the plate across the table to Gabe. “You need to cushion your stomach with carbohydrates. Which are also a hellish invention, for the record.”
Gabe frowns. He’s only taken one class on world history, but that doesn’t sound right. Still, why waste time arguing with a demon? “Thank you,” he says instead.
Erik sips his coffee slowly, eyes narrowing and developing a slight yellow glow. “This is terrible. I love it.”
“I’m glad I could help.” Gabe rubs his eyes. “I am going to fail calculus.”
Another enthusiastic sip. “I can help you.”
“No.”
The demon actually sounds offended. “Why not?”
Gabe opens one eye and points at him. “Because I am not stupid enough to make deals with demons!”
“Oh!” Erik tips his head back and laughs. “Oh, no, I didn’t mean a deal. I told you, I’m on sabbatical. I can just help you, like, in a normal way. Well, maybe a little magic boost, but I won’t demand anything in return. Assistance gratis, since you’re turning me on to all these excellent human consumables.”
“Can I get that in writing?”
“Sure.” Erik gestures and a sheet of paper appears on the table. “Do you want that in blood or ink?”
“Ink. Please.” And please let that really be paper, not any variation on skin.
Erik writes, pauses, adds a bit more, then signs with a flourish. “Here you go. One hundred percent loophole-free.”
Gabe reads the text slowly; it does indeed seem very straightforward. Erik will assist him with calculus and demand nothing in return. “Nothing” is underlined twice. That doesn’t seem like a way to hide a loophole.
“Okay,” he says finally, and holds his hand out for the pen. “I’ll do it.”
There’s no smoke or brimstone when he signs, and the paper doesn’t start leaking blood or anything. It just lies there on the table. That seems like a good sign, too.
“Done!” Erik says brightly. “You can hold on to that. Now. When would you like to get started? My schedule is entirely flexible. I’ve got nothing but time. I don’t sleep. Only restriction is we can’t meet in any house of worship or sacred space. That includes groves, mountains, spiritually significant lakes, and those little niche shrines some people have in their houses. We can be in another part of the house, though.”
Gabe blinks at him. “The campus library?”
“Perfect.” Erik drains the rest of his coffee. “One of the least holy places on record.”
**
Studying with Erik is disorienting. He reviews the basic principles, sure, and provides sample problems for Gabe to work through with coaching, those parts are normal, but he also writes all of his demonstrations with blue flames on the tabletop, with his fingertip as the pen.
“That is upsetting,” Gabe tells him at one point. “Someone’s going to think you’re burning the library down and kick us out.”
Erik looks at him for a moment, then gestures and surrounds their table with a curtain of pure black. “There. Now nobody can see us.”
Gabe puts his head down on the table. “That’s also upsetting.”
“You need to be more flexible about the otherworldly, kid.” Erik pats him on the shoulder and then pinches him hard. “Sit up. We’re gonna talk through this one.”
Gabe doesn’t want to talk through this one. Gabe wants to drown himself in the sink. But Erik is taking this tutoring thing very seriously, and when a demon takes something seriously they can’t be put off for anything. A demon tracked the President of Sweden for sixty years because of a joke he told when he was ten and never finished. The demon seriously wanted to hear the punchline.
Gabe told Erik about that at one of their other tutoring sessions and earned a flat, unpleasant look. “Yes, we all know that story in Hell,” Erik had said. “It was very rude of your President and he’ll pay for it in good time.”
Gabe couldn’t really argue with that, and it made him feel nauseated, so he turned back to calculus.
Right now, though, his brain hurts and he’s exhausted and he wants to do something else. “Could we call it a night?”
Erik frowns at the equation written on the table and ejects a little more flame to add a symbol to the end. “When you solve this.”
“Ugh.” Gabe copies it into his notebook and goes to work. It takes what feels like an hour before he pushes the book over to Erik and puts his head down again, but a glance at the clock before he closes his eyes says it was only ten minutes.
“This is... creative,” Erik says finally. “You did get the right answer. It’s not the way anyone with the sense of a cow would get there, but you did get it.”
Gabe lifts his chin a little but keeps his eyes closed. “So can we be done?”
“That was the deal.” Erik closes the notebook and taps him on the head with it. “And before you panic, no, not that kind of deal.”
“I haven’t panicked about that in days and days.” Gabe gathers up his textbook and shoves everything into his bag. “Are you hungry? I’m starving. I need a burger or a lot of tacos or something.”
Erik smiles at him. It’s a look Gabe’s been seeing more often from him at these tutoring sessions—not the smile he remembers from that first night in the bar, or even the coffee shop, but a different one. Not warm or nice, obviously, but... like Gabe is pleasing to him, in some way. Interesting.
Maybe he takes Gabe seriously.
His brain flinches away from that idea like it’s something hot, and he bangs his bag down on the table a little harder than necessary. “Either of those sound good to you? Burger? Tacos?”
“I think,” Erik says, still smiling, “that in this city, we can find somewhere with both.”
**
Gabe doesn’t really think about the fact that he’s friends with a demon until his roommate points it out, two or three weeks into said demon friendship.
“Don’t you think,” Johan says carefully, “that this is a little weird? And dangerous? Also he’s your only friend other than me, which is not great.”
“I have other friends!” Gabe scowls at him. “My study group for forestry, and the broom hockey team!”
“You never see the team now that broom hockey isn’t in season, and the other one isn’t friendship, it’s a study group.”
Gabe shrugs irritably. “Erik is tutoring me. That’s not friendship either, by your standard.”
“You also go out to dinner with him. You have coffee with him. It’s much too much time to spend with a demon.”
“He’s not doing demon things right now. He’s on a sabbatical from collecting souls, I told you this.”
Johan shakes his head. “I don’t trust any of it, and neither should you.”
He’s absolutely right. Gabe can’t even muster an argument about it. Instead he just shrugs again and goes to his room to stare at his forestry textbook.
He is spending an awful lot of time with a demon. Maybe he should cut back. But how is he supposed to tell a demon that he doesn’t want to hang out with him anymore? That’s a good way to get blasted to a cinder or dragged to hell or thrown off a mountain, sabbatical or no.
When he’s stuck in a problem like this, he has a go-to solution: calling his sister in Sweden. Beatrice always knows what to do, and has no problem telling him he is being an idiot. Beatrice will help.
He Skypes her from his laptop, twitching impatiently until her face comes into focus in the window. “Gabbe,” she says, raising an eyebrow. “It’s late.”
“Sorry.” He is in a bad way if he forgot to think about the time zones. “I just need some advice.”
“What have you done now?”
“Nothing! Or, well, I don’t think I’ve done anything, but Johan is worried.”
She frowns, scooting closer to the camera. “Tell me everything.”
He gives a quick run-through, waving his hand at her every time her expression darkens and she seems about to interrupt. He needs to be sure she has the whole picture before he lets her start in, or he’ll never be able to fill in missing details.
“Gabbe,” she says sternly when he finishes and gestures for her to begin. “What on earth?”
“I know! But he’s very nice. And he’s helping me with calculus. And he’s on sabbatical.”
“How do you know he’s not lying?”
He leans off-camera and rummages through the papers on his desk until he finds the contract. “We wrote something up, see?”
Beatrice squints, struggling to read the document across the miles and screens and Internet connections. “I can’t believe you signed a deal with a demon. I’m going to kill you when you get home.”
“It’s not a deal! It’s a confirmation that I don’t owe him anything!”
“I hope so, for your sake.” She sits back, worrying her lip between her teeth. “You say he’s nice?”
“He is. I know demons aren’t supposed to be. But he just… he is.” Gabe shrugs at the camera. “I don’t know how to explain it.”
“Well. I suppose it’s better that he like you than not like you.” She sounds doubtful, but he can trust her words. Beatrice never lies, not to him. “Just keep your head, don’t get distracted. And don’t sign anything else! It’s not safe.”
“I won’t, I promise.” He rests his chin in his hand and tries for a smile. “Your turn to talk now. Tell me what’s going on at home.”
“I would, but what’s going on is that it’s very late and I need to sleep, min bror.”
“Oh! Of course, sorry. Goodnight.” When the screen goes dark, he gets up from his desk and lies down on top of the blankets on his bed. It’s still early for him, and he’s too restless to be still. He wishes he had some way to contact Erik; demons didn’t exactly have cell phones, or Skype.
Erik tends to show up whenever he’s eating or drinking by himself. Maybe that works to summon him, somehow. It’s worth a try.
Gabe checks his wallet and winces. Hopefully Erik will not only show up but pick up the bill, too.
**
“Of course I’ve got the bill.” Erik smiles at Gabe, then turns the same smile on the waiter, who blushes and almost drops the empty glasses he’s carrying. “Go ahead and open a tab for me, will you?”
“I need a card to open a tab, sir?”
“Oh.” Erik rolls his eyes and produces a card from thin air. Gabe can’t be entirely sure—he’s not an expert on these things—but he thinks it’s one of those special cards he’s heard people talk about as being life goals. A Visa Black Card, something like that. This one is certainly black in color, anyway.
“Order anything you want,” Erik says, swinging his attention back to Gabe. The full force of a demon’s attention is a lot to take. It makes Gabe feel hot all over, which means he’s blushing. Erik seems to enjoy that.
“Thank you. I can pick up the next time, I promise, I just need my next loan payment to come through.”
Erik waves his hand dismissively. “It’s fine. Hell has limitless credit. And I like feeding you. Watching you eat and drink and knowing I’m providing for you. It’s satisfying.”
Gabe blinks, his stomach twisting a little. “What, like a parent with his children?”
“No.” Erik frowns at him. “You’re not a child.”
“You’re right, I’m not.” Gabe frowns down at the wet ring his glass left on the table before the waiter took it away. “Like someone providing for their partner, then?”
“Are we partners?” Erik sounds baffled now. “I didn’t think we were partners. When did that happen?”
“It hasn’t! I’m just asking. You’re the one who said you like providing for me. Why would you like that?”
Erik shrugs. “I just do.”
Gabe makes himself take a deep breath. “Is it a demon thing?”
“Will you stop asking questions if I say yes?”
“Probably.” There’s not much left to clarify once something’s filed as a demon thing.
“Fine. It’s a demon thing.” Erik flicks his tongue out. “It maybe even is. I haven’t talked to anybody about it, but it very well could be.”
“What do you guys talk about?”
“Not much, honestly. We all kind of have our own projects going on. And we’re trying to make quota all the time. The only thing to talk about would be, you know, manipulation and torture techniques, and you don’t really want to talk about that after doing it for centuries at a stretch.”
He flicks his tongue again and Gabe stares at it, mesmerized. Something about that forked tongue grabs his attention much too much. “I guess that makes sense.”
“Hopefully you won’t have to experience it firsthand. Unless you just want to hang out with me.” Erik bares his teeth in a grin.
Gabe’s eye twitches and he makes himself look away. “I don’t know, do you offer some kind of pass where I could come visit you but leave afterward?”
“I’ll bring that up with management at the next meeting.” Erik sits back a bit while the waiter puts their new drinks down. “All right, moving on from hell-focused topics… how are you doing in calculus? Are your grades improving? Do I need to pay a visit to your professor?”
“She’s a grad student and you’re on sabbatical.” Gabe takes a drink and shrugs. “I got a B on the last quiz.”
“That is an improvement!” Erik beams and lifts his glass in a toast. “I knew I could help you.”
“Isn’t it boring for you? Doing calculus with me?”
“It’s like providing for you. I find it very satisfying.” Erik does look extremely satisfied. His face is flushed a delicate red and Gabe is pretty sure his eyes are glowing slightly. “We’re going to get you an A on the next one.”
“Would an A- count? I don’t want to get ahead of myself.”
“Sure. It counts. And I really can still fuck up your professor if you want! As long as I don’t actually take the soul it’s not breaking my sabbatical.”
Gabe rubs his face. These are the moments where it hits him all over again how weird this is. He’s hanging out with a demon. He might be friends with a demon. He’s much too interested in a demon’s tongue.
“Please leave her alone,” he says finally. “She’s doing her best.”
Erik sighs dramatically and drains the rest of his glass. “Fine. If you say so.”
A demon who does what Gabe asks.
Gabe is definitely in trouble.
**
He gets an A- on the next quiz, and Erik is so excited he starts putting off a cloud of smoke in the middle of the bar.
It’s the bar they first met in, and the staff is used to Erik by now. The waitress swings by their table and gently asks him to rein it in while handing him a beer on the house. Light bribery always works on Erik. He smiles sweetly at her, showing the gap in his teeth while keeping his tongue politely behind them, and gets control of the smoke, though there’s still a strong smell of sulfur.
Gabe rests his chin in his hands and watches Erik happily attack the beer. “Why me?”
“Why you what?” Erik makes a soft screech of delight. “This tastes like blueberries.”
A demon turning into a craft beer snob is a scary thought, but Gabe can’t be bothered about it right now. “Why did you choose me to latch on to?”
Erik goes still for a moment, then flicks his eyes to Gabe’s face, and for a moment Gabe can see deeper than he has before—some kind of shield has been removed and he can see what Erik really is, and it’s too much for a human mind to handle, it’s—
“Shit. Sorry.” Erik clears his throat and blinks and his eyes are normal again, if a bit glowy. “Didn’t mean to do that.”
Gabe puts his head down on the table and shakes like one of those little dogs girls bring to class in their purses.
“Sorry!” He feels Erik’s hand awkwardly patting at his hair. “I promise I won’t do it again. You just threw me for a minute there.”
“It’s a reasonable question, isn’t it?” Gabe asks when he can manage the effort again.
“I suppose.” Erik’s quiet for a moment, his hand going still, and Gabe moves his head enough to look up at him without actually lifting it again.
Erik looks unhappy, his jaw tight and his glowy eyes darting back and forth.
“You reminded me of someone,” he says finally. “Someone I used to know.”
“A demon?”
Erik’s eyes narrow. “If I say a fallen angel is it going to go to your head?”
“Not at the moment,” Gabe answers honestly. “My head doesn’t work right now.”
“Okay then.” Erik shrugs. “That.”
Gabe thinks about it for a few minutes, then sits up. “I need to get drunk now.”
“Me too,” Erik says fervently. He looks toward the bar and gestures slightly. “Okay, they’re going to keep ‘em coming.”
**
Gabe wakes up the next morning very hungover and with Erik crouched at the foot of his bed like a gargoyle.
“Why,” is all Gabe can manage before putting his pillow over his head and fighting a wave of nausea.
“I’m keeping an eye on you.” Erik sounds offended. “Sorry for being concerned about your frail mortal body.”
“Why weren’t you concerned about it before I drank so much?”
“I was curious to see what would happen. It’s a demonic weakness.” The bed creaks and shifts as Erik makes his way up to crouch at Gabe’s side. “Do you want some water?”
“Please.” Gabe swallows experimentally and takes the pillow off his face. “Are you okay?”
“Oh, I’m fine.” Erik summons a bottle of water out of nowhere and hands it to him. “We can burn our systems clean whenever we want.”
“Of course.” Gabe sighs and sits up to sip the water. “I’m not going to make it to class today.”
“Do you want any help with anything? I could put all your professors into comas.”
Gabe chokes, just a little bit. “No! It’s fine. I’ll get notes from somebody.”
“Okay.” Erik sits back on his heels, visibly disappointed. “I’m here to help. Any time you want.”
Gabe doesn’t let himself ask why again. He drinks his water and holds very still, both to keep his head from swirling and to keep Erik from leaping to assist him again.
“You should go do your stuff,” Gabe says finally, even though he honestly doesn’t know what Erik’s stuff is. “I’m just going to go back to sleep for a while, I think.”
He can’t be sure, but he thinks there’s a flash of disappointment across Erik’s face before he gets off the bed. “Okay. Well. Feel better. I’ll see you for our usual calculus session tomorrow?”
There aren’t any quizzes coming up that Gabe needs help with, and honestly he almost understands what they’re working on right now. He opens his mouth to say they can skip tutoring, then closes it again.
He doesn’t want to cancel on Erik.
That is something he’s going to have to freak out over the next time he wakes up.
“Yes,” he says finally. “I’ll see you then.”
Erik smiles before disappearing, and Gabe’s stomach flips.
Oh no.
**
Gabe starts their study session on the wrong foot, not on purpose but because he can’t help himself. “You said I reminded you of a fallen angel.”
Smoke immediately starts rising from the top of Erik’s head. “You remember that?”
“Obviously.”
“I would prefer if you forgot it.”
“That’s not how it works.”
“I could wipe your mind?” It’s clearly an offer, not a threat, because Erik likes him. Gabe still can’t get over that, but he knows enough not to try to use it to his advantage. Much safer to just let it be.
“Please don’t,” he says, fidgeting with his textbook. “I was just wondering, that’s all. If it was, you know.”
“I don’t know.” The smoke has cleared, but Erik’s eyes are glowing a little. “You have to explain.”
Gabe sighs and gestures at himself. “Gabriel?”
All the lights in the library go out for a moment. When they come back on, Gabe catches a glimpse of black wings mantling over Erik’s shoulders just before they vanish.
“Gabriel never fell,” Erik says, his voice carrying a distinct note of thunder. The area around their table smells like sulfur now, too. Gabe really should have let this subject go. “Anyway, what does that have to do with you?”
Gabe frowns. “Well, that’s my name too. Gabriel.”
This time all the lights blaze extra bright before Erik gets control of himself again. “You said your name is Gabe!”
“Yes.” Gabe stares at him. “Gabe is short for Gabriel.”
“Oh… damn it.” Erik slouches in his chair, shoulders twitching like his wings are moving, even though they aren’t there. “Every time. The diminutives get me every time.”
“I mean, properly it’s Gabbe. With Swedish speakers. America is weird.”
“I know. We put a lot of work into that.” Erik rubs his face with both hands, then freezes. “Wait. Do you have siblings?”
Warning bells are going off in Gabe’s head, but he still doesn’t want to lie to Erik. “Yes, two.”
“What are their names?”
“Adam and Beatrice.”
“Beatrice,” Erik mutters, his hands now moving like he’s flipping through a book. “Is that Biblical?”
“I don’t think so?”
“I don’t either.” Erik frowns, staring at something Gabe can’t see. “What about your parents? Their names?”
“Tony and Cecilia.”
Erik visibly relaxes, dismissing the invisible book. “Not Biblical either. Good. You scared me, having Adam and Gabriel in the same generation.”
Gabe is very lost. “Why does that scare you?”
“Chance that you were from a family line of demon hunters. We take that seriously. There aren’t a lot of active ones still around, but the ones that are are exhausting.” Erik shakes his head wearily. “You promise you’re not from one, right? Swear on your as yet un-damned soul?”
“We’re not demon hunters that I know of.” Gabe feels like he’s tripped and fallen down an elevator shaft or something. “Nobody’s ever mentioned it to me.”
“Okay. Good enough.” Erik looks up, frowning at a light fixture that now is buzzing unhappily. “I think I fried half the wiring in this building. Embarrassing to lose control like that.”
“Can you fix it? I’d rather not have the building burn down.”
Erik looks a little wistful. “The chaos would be great, though.”
Gabe’s stomach clenches. “I would feel really guilty about it? Please?”
“Why would you feel guilty? You’re not the one who did it.”
“I’m the one who upset you.” Gabe shrugs. “I’m sorry about that, by the way.”
For a moment Erik looks baffled, and Gabe feels the same odd sensation he did when Erik’s mask slipped and he saw the true demon within. Except this time he’s not seeing the demon, he’s seeing… something else, a spark in darkness, floating deep in Erik’s eyes.
Then Erik is out of his chair and the moment is gone. Gabe’s left blinking and dazed while Erik, white-faced and agitated, fixes his gaze on the ceiling and gestures, either fixing the wiring or summoning something to burn the whole campus to the ground.
“There,” he says after a moment, his voice tight with panic. “All fixed. I have to go, sorry, I… forgot about something. We’ll meet on Wednesday. To study. We’ll do calculus on Wednesday, I promise. I just have to leave now. Goodbye.”
He vanishes in a cloud of smoke, leaving ashes on the floor and that strong scent of sulfur. Gabe stares at the ashes, head whirling, distinctly aware of two things.
One, that he is over his head—but he knew that already.
Two, that he has more power over Erik than he thought, and he can do more with it than he thought, and that that is… much, much more than he knows how to wrap his mind around.
**
Instead of bothering Beatrice this time, he goes to Johan.
His timing is bad: Johan is doing yoga in the living room, bent into bridge pose. Johan only does yoga in the nude, which is fine with Gabe, but it does mean that it feels very much like Johan is not really listening to him.
“I think I’ve formed an emotional bond with the demon.” Gabe sits on the edge of the couch, watching Johan’s dick jiggle as he moves into wheel pose. “Should I try to redeem him?”
“What does that even mean?” Johan holds his position for a moment and then slowly unfolds into corpse pose. “Practically speaking.”
“I don’t know. Take him to church? Spray him with holy water? Throw a rosary at him?”
“You’re not Catholic. Rosaries are just beads in your hands.” Johan slowly rolls his shoulders. “What do you think will happen if you redeem him?”
“I don’t know. He’ll ascend to heaven, I guess?”
“Are you getting these ideas from an actual source or just making things up?”
Gabe slumps. “Just making things up.”
“Well. Don’t do that with demons. It could blow up in your face.” Johan flips over and moves up into downward dog. “You should go to church, though.”
“What? Why?”
“To ask either a priest or God directly what to do with the fact that you’ve fallen in love with a demon.” Johan rocks back and forth, making his dick jiggle again, and Gabe thinks about throwing the remote at it.
“I’m not in love with him!”
“Of course you are, don’t be childish.” He sinks down into upward dog. “You should do some yoga. You’re very tense.”
Gabe gets up and storms back to his bedroom. That wasn’t helpful at all.
**
He has to do something, though. They can’t just keep staring at each other all the time, even though Erik seems perfectly content with the status quo.
They finish their tutoring session on Wednesday and go for food, as usual. Erik stops on the lawn in front of one of the dorms and concentrates for a moment, then flicks his fingers, and all the pigeons in a three-block radius rise up into the air at once, making a rainfall of feathers and causing two minor car accidents.
“That wasn’t very nice,” Gabe says, shoving his hands in his jacket pockets.
“For the birds? They don’t have short-term memory, they’re fine.”
“What about the people who wrecked their cars?”
Erik scoffs. “Just fender-benders. But if you want…” He gestures again. “There. Fixed them.”
Gabe stops and sits down on a bench, looking down at his shoes. “We should talk.”
“About what?” Erik stands in front of him, and Gabe finally has to meet his eyes. Whatever Erik sees there makes him puff up like a nervous cat—his hair literally gets fluffier. It would be funny if Gabe didn’t feel so shitty.
“How much longer are you staying?” Gabe asks finally. It’s not the question he really wants to ask, but it’s better than nothing.
Erik shrugs. “As long as I want.”
“That’s not how sabbaticals work.”
“Well. I’ve sort of.” Erik stops and tilts his head back, blowing out a hot cloud of breath toward the sky. The reek of sulfur fills Gabe’s nose, making him sneeze. “I’ve sort of stopped taking messages from hell? I’m kind of AWOL right now. Um. So. It’s not so much a sabbatical as just… living here, now.”
Gabe blinks at him a few times. “You quit hell?”
“Basically.”
“I don’t think you can do that.”
Erik shrugs. “Well, they’ll come after me eventually and drag me back for eternal torment, but it’ll take them a few centuries to clear the paperwork. So it’s not your problem to worry about.”
Gabe doesn’t want to think about Erik having eternal torment, even if he himself has been dead for ages at that point. “Johan thinks I’m in love with you.”
Erik turns bright red. It’s kind of cute. Smoke comes out of his ears. “What?”
“In love.” Gabe nods at him. “With you.”
“That can’t happen.”
“Why not?”
“It’s forbidden.” Erik’s eyes start glowing yellow. “It’s only allowed if I trick you into it as part of taking your soul.”
“Is that admitting that you didn’t trick me?” He didn’t even think about it that way, that there might be a trick involved. He trusts Erik. It’s stupid, but he does.
“Of course I didn’t trick you! We had a deal that I wouldn’t trick you!” He can see the outline of Erik’s wings now. “And I… I enjoy your company, I enjoy providing for you, I wasn’t even thinking about…”
Gabe nods. “I think maybe you’re in love with me, too.”
Erik curses in a language Gabe doesn’t know. A nearby tree bursts into flames. A squirrel screams in a human voice.
Gabe sighs. That didn’t go quite the way he planned it. “Stop that.”
The tree stops burning and the squirrel runs away, but Erik is still glowing and smoking and has wings. “I need to think,” he says abruptly, and vanishes, leaving behind just the sulfur and the start of a headache behind Gabe’s eyes.
“Shit,” Gabe mumbles. He didn’t even get his post-study food.
**
It’s three days before Erik comes back. Gabe knows that three days is theologically significant in a lot of directions, but he’s pretty sure that’s just how long it took Erik to get himself together. For an agent of hell, Erik is not very interested in theology at all.
He shows up in a puff of smoke on the lawn outside the library, where Gabe is sitting on the ground and eating his lunch. No wings today, but he still looks extremely frazzled, and he stares at Gabe with yellow, glowing eyes.
“Hello,” Gabe says as flatly as he can manage.
“Hi.” Erik pokes his tongue out. “We need to talk.”
“So talk.” Gabe waves his sandwich at him. “I’m eating.”
Erik squints at the sandwich. “Where is that from, it looks disgusting.”
“It is disgusting. But it’s what I’ve got.” Gabe takes a bite and waves his free hand at Erik, hoping he’ll pick up on the universal signal to get on with it already.
Erik looks around and shakes his head. “I can’t talk here. I need privacy.”
“You’re a demon,” Gabe mumbles around his sandwich. “Make one of those privacy bubbles.”
“No, I don’t want to do that.” Erik looks profoundly irritated for a moment, then sighs and raises his hand. “Okay, this might make you kind of dizzy. Just hang in there.”
There’s a flash of light and the feeling of the universe moving underneath him, which is not a thing Gabe thought he would be able to identify, but apparently the body knows that movement on the cellular level and just never gets a chance to express that. He finds himself on his bed in his apartment, sandwich still in hand, and immediately throws up on the floor.
“Nausea,” Erik mutters. “Not dizziness. Right.” At least he can banish the mess with another wave of his hand, which Gabe appreciates.
“Why did you do that?” Gabe asks when he’s got his breathing back under control. “What do you want to tell me that needs to be said in my bedroom?”
“Isn’t it obvious?”
Gabe doesn’t know what is wrong with this demon. “No?”
Erik sighs. “You were right. I’m in love with you. It’s forbidden, and shouldn’t even be possible, but it’s what happened, and I needed some time to think about it, but now I’m done thinking, and I brought you here to deflower you.”
Gabe blinks at him a few times. “Oh.”
“Do you have any objections, before the deflowering begins?”
“Um. Just one.” Gabe fidgets, hoping this isn’t going to get him in trouble. “I don’t have... a flower to remove? I lost that a while ago. Many... well, several years. Also my roommate and I have sex sometimes. Johan? I don’t think you’ve met him? It’s just a... friends with benefits thing, not serious. He does a lot of naked yoga, it’s...”
Erik blinks at him a few times, tongue creeping forward through the gap in his teeth. “Yeah, all that’s fine. Very sinful. I’m all for that.”
Oh, good. “Okay. How do you want to do this, then? Do we kiss first, or what?”
Erik frowns. “What are humans doing these days? Are there still bundling boards? I hated those.”
“I don’t even know what that is.”
“Awesome.” Erik nods and banishes all of their clothing with another gesture. Gabe hopes he can bring it back later. He likes that t-shirt. “Let’s do this.”
Kissing a demon is interesting. It’s mostly normal, except for the forked tongue and the missing teeth, and that last bit isn’t a demon thing, it’s an Erik thing, Gabe’s pretty sure. Erik mostly keeps his tongue a normal size, just forked, but every so often he either forgets or wants to be weird and extends it down Gabe’s throat.
Gabe doesn’t have much of a gag reflex, so he just kinda lets it happen. It tickles, but it’s also a cool feeling back there.
Erik is on top of him, grinding on him, and that’s a pretty cool feeling, too. He’s a big guy… demon… anyway, but his body is incredibly solid and dense, like he’s carved out of granite or something. Not to the point that Gabe’s going to injure himself, but intriguing. Occasionally he catches Gabe’s arms for a moment and pins them, and that’s really great, Gabe wouldn’t mind exploring that further.
Erik pulls back and studies him for a moment, eyes glowing yellow. “Does this era have any hang-ups around oral sex?”
“Uh.” Gabe blinks at him. “Yes, tons? But I personally don’t.”
“Good.” Erik nods decisively. “I’m going to do that, then. If the tongue’s too much, let me know. I gave someone a heart attack in the 1200s. Didn’t even mean to.”
Fortunately Gabe doesn’t have to think about that for too long, because Erik is sliding down his body and taking hold of his dick, and then wrapping his tongue around it, and fuck fuck fuck fuck that is not something he ever thought about happening in this life.
Erik closes his mouth around him and keeps doing things with his tongue and Gabe isn’t totally sure but he thinks the forked end is poking him in the balls while Erik sucks on him and it’s too much, it’s insane, humans weren’t meant to experience this. He comes so hard he sees sparks.
When he’s in control of himself again, Erik is sitting there cross-legged next to him, smirking. “For real, a heart attack. That’s why I wanted you to be prepared.”
“Thanks,” Gabe mumbles. He waves his hand at his bedside table. “There’s lube in there somewhere. Condoms.”
“Oh, are you sure?” Erik asks. “Because I don’t necessarily need it. I can just wait til you’re ready and perform oral again. Like, for days. If that’s what you enjoy.”
Gabe closes his eyes tightly. “I enjoy both, oh my god.”
“Hey,” Erik says sternly. “Don’t say that when I’m in bed with you.”
Right. Of course not.
This is so fucking weird.
“Please fuck me,” he says, not opening his eyes. “Not as hard as you can. As hard as you can without breaking me.”
“An important distinction.” Erik pats him on the stomach and Gabe feels the bed shift as Erik crawls over to look for the supplies. “How strongly do you feel about the condom? I’m cool with it but I also can’t transmit microbes to humans and while I could implant something in your abdomen it would take a particular effort, it can’t happen accidentally. But I totally understand if it’s more of a not wanting to wash your sheets kind of thing.”
Gabe feels extremely dizzy. “Uh. Can’t you just magic me up some clean sheets?”
“That’s right, I can. You’re so smart.” Erik pats him on the head this time, like Gabe’s a particularly clever dog, and Gabe’s going to have to remember to ask him not to do that. At some point. When his brain works again. “So we’re good with bareback?”
“Please,” Gabe says faintly, and Erik makes a pleased noise and goes back between his legs.
**
Johan finds them in the kitchen at six AM, quietly bickering over mugs of tea, a mixing bowl on the counter and flour absolutely everywhere.
“What are you doing?” Johan asks wearily. “Why is the demon here?”
“We’re dating,” Gabe mumbles. “I was going to show him how to make munkar and he got mad about it.”
“Mashed potatoes in a doughnut are an abomination,” Erik says. “And I would know.”
Johan sighs. “I’m very disappointed in both of you. Go sit in the living room.”
“What are you going to do?” Gabe asks, looking at him hopefully.
“I’m going to make pancakes, obviously. Go on, get out of my way.”
Erik sits on the couch and pulls Gabe down into his lap, then peppers his face with kisses while every candle in the room spontaneously lights itself. The lampshade also spontaneously lights itself, but when Gabe looks meaningfully at it, Erik makes it stop.
“Are you going to be this affectionate forever?” Gabe asks, leaning against the weird rock-solidness of Erik’s chest.
“Yes,” Erik says happily. “I have no concept of time.”
Gabe can live with that.