Wicked Boy - 3. Chapter 3

Some things never change. One of those was the fact that after a hundred years away, Kiaza still knew exactly how to break into the palace without getting caught. It wasn’t like there were a lot of guards on at night, and Kiaza slunk around what they had always called the back of the palace, scaled a thirty foot wall as though it was a hotel staircase and slipped in through a liquid plasma window. Kiorl’s room was the biggest on the floor, and it wasn’t hard to find. Kiaza knocked gently and pushed his way into the room.

“I see we’re still in our Arabian tent phase of decorating…” Kiaza dragged his fingers through the long silk hangings. “You are still not over the thing with the Ottomans?”

“They were comfy.” Kiorl glanced across from his book. Jahke’s reading habit had rubbed off on him, just a little bit. “Why are you here Kiaza?”

“I hate sleeping alone.”

“Well’s that a lie.” Kiorl’s tail flicked back and forth. “You hate to cuddle. What? Is my bed not comfy enough? I figured you’d sleep in the fireplace on your first night back.”

Kiaza didn’t answer, simply twisted across the room like a dancer, trailing his fingers through the hanging cloths until he reached Kiorl’s bedside. The panther arched a dark brow, his whiskers twitching.

“What do you want Kia?” Kiorl dropped his book onto the thickly carpeted floor with a soft thud. The panther liked his room rather on the chilly side, because it gave him a better excuse for plush furnishings and lying around in bed, and one proper look told him Kiaza was already feeling the ill effects of this drop in temperature. “Get in.”

The little snake slithered in against him, wrapping his limbs around Kiorl quickly. He sapped heat like a cold draught, and Kiorl wished suddenly that the reptile had chosen someone like Shindae to snuggle with. Kiaza looked up at him with big, bright green eyes and Kiorl couldn’t help but smile.

“Did you tell Nassau I was back?”

“Yes.” Kiorl shook his head. “He was not happy.” And that was the biggest understatement, because the Prince of Hell had been nearly apocalyptic with incandescent rage. Kiorl hadn’t even had time to bow himself out before Nassau had started shedding feathers and smashing things. They’d left him alone, but there was no doubt that while Kiaza was allowed back; the Prince did not want to see him. Of course, only the three of them really knew why.

“Oh…” Kiaza tucked himself in closer to his friend’s side and his slim hands drifted down Kiorl’s velvet furred chest and abdomen, seeking out a deeper warmth. “I miss the way we used to be.” He curled his fingers around the languorous length of Kiorl’s half hard cock.

“Those days are over Kia.” Kiorl shifted his weight and swept Kiaza’s hand out of the way with his tail. “Long over.”

Kiaza pouted and leant up on his elbows, rolling onto his belly.

“You must miss it though?” Kiaza dropped his voice an octave. “Easy company and good sex. When was the last time you got laid Kiorl?”

“I get plenty lucky.” The panther smirked. “Worry about your own love life.”

“I mean.” Kiaza dragged his slim fingers down Kiorl’s chest fur before walking the digits back up. “When was the last time you actually-” He sighed against Kiorl’s cheek. “-had real sex.” The little scaled demon punctuated his words with soft, cool kisses against Kiorl’s fur. “We could always be ourselves around each other.”

“It was never going to be that like again, not after…” Kiorl sighed heavily. “And it never will be.”

“It could be.”

“Nassau hates you.”

“I wasn’t talking about Nassau.” Kiaza looked down at his friend and frowned. “You always were a little bit in love with him.”

“So what?” The tip of Kiorl’s tail displayed his annoyance at Kiaza’s line of questioning. “Don’t start acting like you’re jealous now.”

Kiaza didn’t answer him, but simply sat up, slipping his legs over Kiorl’s thighs to end up in the panthers lap. He could feel the thick, barbed cock hardening underneath him, and smiled. Kiorl could protest all he wanted, but his body didn’t lie nearly as well as his tongue, and he wanted the relief of being with Kiaza.

Before Nassau ruined everything by going and falling in love with a human, the three of them had been as close to what humans would call a stable relationship as it was possible to be. They were two major demons and the Prince of Hell. There was no pretence, no pulling rank or showing off. They were in it for the pleasure. There was a certain level of enjoyment which could not be achieved by torturing your prey or by bewitching them to do your bidding; and the true glow of happiness was best achieved when they were all three simply being themselves.

After Mattias had died, Kiaza had thought things could go back to the way they had ben before, after all, the human and the Prince only had a few scant years together, Kiaza, Kiorl and Nassau had much more. But it was not to be. Kiaza looked down at the panther below him and decided if the three of them couldn’t be together, then he would make Kiorl want him no matter what. He could not be himself around a lesser demon, and he still needed in his head to be rid of the pathetic human whom he had tried to ruin.

“Get off Kia…” Kiorl’s protest was half-hearted in the extreme, his hands feeling up the soft scaled thighs of the snake.

“But I miss you.” Kiaza brushed his hands over the panther’s thick black fur. “We used to have such a good time together.” He wriggled his backside against Kiorl’s cock. “I know you miss me too.”

“Kia…”

Kiaza ignored him. It would be easy to just do what he wanted. Kiorl’s particular set of powers meant he probably hadn’t had a truly honest experience in several decades, and if he was still harbouring a crush on Nassau… Kiaza smiled to himself. Too easy.

The snake demon wiped his tongue over his hollow fangs. The delicious ichor that left his victims in ecstatic agony had subtle and wonderful side effects as an aphrodisiac. When Kiaza leant down to kiss his friend, his forked tongue was coated with it. He and Kiorl kissed hungrily, each seeking out their own pleasure. Kiaza ground against the panther’s erection as he shifted.

He’d taken so many shapes, so many times, this one was easy. He knew the body as well as he knew his own. Kiaza’s iridescent scales were replaced with the pale velvet smooth skin and long ash brown hair of their Prince. Kiaza unfurled Nassau’s bronze gold wings, though he couldn’t fake the swirling stormy grey eyes, and while Kiorl panted in a haze of lust the little demon lifted himself, squeezed Kiorl with his thighs and repositioned the head of Kiorl’s cock at his entrance. He groaned as he sank down the stiff length, each barb pricking at his sensitive flesh.

“Ahh…”

“Nygh…” Kiaza bit his lower lip, an affectation he shared with the Prince he was pretending to be, and groaned at the invasion. Fucking Kiorl was always extraordinary, every sensation heightened and somehow dangerous. Kiorl pulsed inside of him. “Oh gods that’s good.”

“Fuck… Nas…” Kiorl blinked up at him. Then as Kiaza shifted his weight again the lust fog began to lose its power. Kiorl’s bright blue eyes hardened even as Kiaza sank down onto him again. “Get off me.”

“Ohh, Kiorl…” Kiaza groaned between his teeth, not caring, assuming pleasure would make all the difference for Kiorl. After all, how many times did one get to be inside and surrounded by the Prince of Hell and have him moan your name?

“Kia! Get off me.” Kiorl was growling. “Get the fuck OFF!” The panther lost his patience and his temper and lashed out at the boy, pushing him from his mounted pose. Kiaza lost balance, howled in pain at the fierce ripping as Kiorl’s barbed cock was wrenched out of him and changed all at the same time, to end up scaly, bleeding slightly and curled into a ball beside the bed. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“You liked it!” Kiaza gathered himself together, standing with his back pressed against one of Kiorl’s many drapes. He ripped the fabric from its tether and wrapped the silk around his hips. “Fuck Kiorl! That hurt.”

“You’re insane.” Kiorl jumped from his bed and dressed himself with a snap of his fingers, clothes flying together out of thin air. “You can’t be Nassau just because you think I miss him.”

“You do miss him.” Kiaza spat. “You can’t pretend to me.”

“You’re wrong Kia.” Kiorl sat heavily on the end of his bed, cradling his skull. “I don’t want to be with Nas. I’m jealous of him.”

Kiaza turned to stare at his friend with wide eyes.

“Why?”

“Because I’d have rather had my heart broken than have no idea what it’s really like to be with someone Kia.” Kiorl smiled softly. “I look at Vru and Nami, and I wanna be like them. Aren’t you tired of pretending all the time Kia?”

The snake shimmied slightly out of focus and was suddenly dressed back in one of his favourite human shapes.

“Pretending is all I have Kiorl. It has to be enough.”

“Go home Kiaza. We’ll sort you out a room tomorrow.”

The little green snake left the way he had come in and walked back to the house on the hill with his arms wrapped around his skinny chest. He let himself in, but didn’t bother going up to Kiorl’s room. Vruuaska had obviously left the remains of his dinner in the fire, and Kiaza dumped his makeshift wrap and curled up in the glowing embers of the hearth.

He wanted to feel as though Kiorl’s rejection wasn’t fair, but he knew better. He’d been gone too long and under too strained of circumstances just to slot back in where he had left off. It hadn’t been fair to Kiorl to have done what he did, exactly as it hadn’t been fair to Nassau. Kiaza was only out for his own pleasure, a selfish snake like always. And he had wanted to get Jeremiah out of his head. It was deeply unfair that he could still remember the kid’s name.

There had been so many humans. Hundreds, probably thousands, and Kiaza couldn’t really remember a single one of them. Sure, there were types: the rich sons of lords, the poor and not so smart, cute blond guys with thick accents and nice eyes, hard men with dark eyes and a taste for pain. All of them had suffered. Every single one had gone insane or delirious, because no human could survive what Kiaza did to them, no one. Not a single soul. But now there was this boy, and Kiaza could not get him out of his skull.

The snake choose an ember from the remains of the fire and turned the smouldering lump over in his fingers, watching the internal fire crawl around the blackened wood, seeking out the air, grasping for fresh fuel. So Kiorl was jealous of the big furry demon and his internally fired up lover, and by extrapolation, he was probably awfully envious of Sitka and Jahke’s adorable attitude and love of sharing, along with Zai and Tobias’s acerbic and loving violence. Kiaza had known him several millennia, and never once had he ever thought Kiorl, of all people, would pine to be in love. Like Kiaza, the big panther had always maintained an attitude of needing nothing. All major demons had to, to maintain power, position and authority, but Kiorl and Kiaza were much better at it than most. But Kiorl was slipping, and if he had admitted his desires to Kiaza, back for less than a day, there could surely not be much time until he admitted it to someone else.

Whereas you, Kiaza hissed at his inner voice. You believed your own hype. You didn’t need anyone at all.

Kiaza snorted and shouldered his way slightly deeper into his bed of warm ash, glowing firebricks and bits of dying timber.

And now here you are. Alone, no room of your own and you’re only real friend hates you.

Kiorl would get over his rage, of that Kiaza was sure. And he would somehow manage to make good on his statement of finding Kiaza a room. There was no way he was moving house. The snake had always been slightly allergic to the idea of sharing with girls. Kiorl didn’t really hate him, but it had not been a smart move to make. With nothing else to do, Kiaza lay back into the fire, closed his bright eyes, and tried not to dream about the man with a pretty smile and soft brown eyes.

*

It had been a week.

A week since Jeremiah had met Kai in the club and taken him home. A week since the sexiest man he’d ever met had somehow changed shape in his bed. A week since he had vanished. A week since Jeremiah had experienced the most amazing pleasure he’d ever known.

For a whole week, he had been lost. Questioning the bar staff, the doorman and any of the patrons who had been not shitfaced enough to remember anything had all turned up blank. Everyone had seen them together, that wasn’t a problem. Everyone remembered the gorgeous boy with the bright green eyes, but no one had ever seen him before, Never.

Perhaps it would have been a simple explanation. He was a student from out of town, visiting family or friends; a kid from the closet, out for a night to experiment and see the world; someone simply passing through. And Jeremiah thought he would’ve been able to live with that, if it hadn’t been for the delight he had felt or the way Kai had changed shape in the darkness, had transformed even as he had allowed Jeremiah to fuck him. He burned for the want of the beautiful creature again; his hands shook when he thought about Kai’s skin, then scales, under his palms. Every night he dreamt of the boy, relived fucking such a perfect creature, and woke every morning with soiled linens and a still throbbing erection tenting his sheets.

So he’d turned to the internet, half in the hopes of distracting himself, and then in a focused effort to work out what it was Kai had been. It was not like it was in films, and he didn’t find his answers in the way he wanted. It was a process of elimination. Nothing in the records turned up any sort of supernatural scaly shape shifter. There was no specific creature that helped him, and the closest he got on his image search was some rather interesting pornography centred on a group of anthropomorphic scalies. Jeremiah doubted the virile imaginings of furries and their friends actually existed, and doubted that if they did they would be able to change shape so elegantly as Kai had.

He dreamt of the boy. Kai stood in the centre of the deserted dance floor, swaying gently to music that Jeremiah could hear but could not identify. He only knew it was soft and somehow familiar. Kai was watching him with those glowing green eyes, his delicate hands travelling over his smooth scales as Jeremiah walked over to him. They stood, fully naked, barely inches apart. The snake breathed in cool puffs against Jeremiah’s skin.

“Who are you?” Jeremiah’s voice seemed to bypass his vocal chords.

Kai smiled showing pointed white teeth.

“You know who I am.”

“But what are you?” Jeremiah turned on the spot as the little snake slithered around him, hands on his chest, pulling his attention in circles.

“I’m just a demon.”

“Where can I find you?”

Kai leant up on his toes, except he didn’t have toes, and whispered his answer into Jeremiah’s mouth as he kissed him.

“Well where d’you expect to find a demon?”

Jeremiah woke, sweating and shaking, and knew exactly where he needed to go. People who didn’t know better might look for demons at rock clubs and bondage dungeons. But what would be the point? Those souls were already turned. A demon might go somewhere he could do some bad to someone good. Jeremiah stared at his bedroom ceiling and smiled.

He hadn’t been to church in years.