Wicked Boy - 6. Chapter 6

“I don’t think he likes me very much.”

“He didn’t let you die.” There was the chink of a coffee cup being placed on wood. “That counts for something.”

“I haven’t really seen him since then. He’s avoiding me.” Jeremiah exhaled. “Should I bother staying here?”

“Well it ain’t like you can go anywhere else.” Tobias replied. “Not without protection. Kiaza will come around.”

Kiaza felt the pair of them move in the kitchen, and to his shame, he pushed himself away from the wall, and fled up the stairs.

Jeremiah was right; he had been avoiding the boy. They had run into each other here and there, dinner times were unavoidable, and there were only so many places to go in the evenings when the palace was off limits. It had been three days, and Kiaza couldn’t bring himself to even look directly at the boy when anyone else might see. He hadn’t said more than two words in his presence either. He would never have told anyone, not even Kiorl, but he was scared.

Jeremiah had done what no other human had ever been known to do, and Jahke had been through the records and checked. He had come to hell, voluntarily, looking for a demon. He had refused to be scared, made demands, and pretty much settled himself into the house without anyone questioning him about it. Even Inai seemed to have some respect for the kid, and he was the least forgiving of all of them. Kiaza knew his reaction to the human was somewhat inexplicable, and downright cruel when given consideration, but he couldn’t bring himself to change his mind. The idea of Jeremiah, of being… attached, was strange, dangerous and unknown. Before he had left for an hundred years, Kiaza had enjoyed his position in recruitment. He doubted Jeremiah would be OK with him continuing that sort of work.

The fact you care what he thinks, Kiaza told himself sternly, Is proof you are already losing.

Every scale on his body told him he shouldn’t give a damn what Jeremiah thought, or did, or said. But he did. Even now, slithering up the staircase and padding down the upper hallway on soft feet, Kiaza could feel his brain wondering about what Jeremiah was saying, about what conversation he was missing out on. With Jeremiah busy downstairs, and if his habits were anything to go by he would be down there for several hours, Kiaza was free to slip into Kiorl’s room where the boy was currently sleeping alone.

Kiaza could feel him there; practically see his body in the shape of the imprints he’d left in the bed. In three days Jeremiah had managed to make Kiorl’s room look lived in, in a way that the big panther had never managed. The whole room smelt like him, and when Kiaza laid his palm on the bed, the reflected warmth of Jeremiah’s body made him stifle a groan. The iridescent snake coiled up on the bed, half burying himself in the blankets that still smelt like Jeremiah. It was embarrassing, and if anyone had seen, Kiaza figured he would have to move house or something. He took deep greedy breathes of the human’s scent, closing both sets of eyelids to imagine them lying there together in some hazy uncomplicated universe where he didn’t care about his reputation and where he wasn’t scared of falling in love.

And there it was; the truth. If he admitted he wanted to be with Jeremiah he was going to have to deal with all sorts of stuff he’d shut out of his life; emotional attachment, compromise, loyalty of one sort or another, truth. He’d only ever really been himself around Nassau and Kiorl. Desiring something more permanent with Jeremiah meant he had been wrong in his assumption that one day the three of them would find a way back to the way they had once been.

Kiaza wrapped himself up in the blankets with a sniff. He was not going to cry. Snakes couldn’t cry, but that didn’t stop him from wanting to. He hadn’t been sleeping well in the fire. The heat of flames was not a good replacement for a warm body and a thick mattress. So Kiaza buried himself in his misery, and lost consciousness for a bit.

*

The moment he let go of the thread of his dream, he knew Jeremiah was there with him. He didn’t have to move, or open his eyes. The boy wasn’t touching him, and there wasn’t enough reflected heat to guide him, but Kiaza knew he was there. It was strange, because he’d never had that sort of knowledge before: more than a feeling, and as certain as if he’d been holding the human’s hand in his own. He didn’t move, or open his eyes, or anything, but Jeremiah must have sensed something, because he started talking.

“I wanted to wake you.” His voice was barely above a whisper. “But I didn’t fancy getting bit again.” He paused for so long Kiaza wondered if he was going to keep talking. “And I keep thinking maybe Shax was right and you walking off meant you didn’t want me. I know that’s what you said.” He sniffed. “But I’ve never been this sure of anything in my whole life. And I hate sleeping alone.”

“Me too.”

The silence after Kiaza’s words was total and deafening. Kiaza allowed his lids to peel back and look at the frozen shape of Jeremiah’s back. The boy had to be barely breathing to be that still. It was somehow easier without being looked at, and Kiaza walked out his hand and wrapped his fingers around the wrist which he had previously damaged. Jeremiah let out a soft moan in the same moment that Kiaza hissed in pleasure.

“Kiaza?” Jeremiah sounded like he might have been crying. “Please talk to me.”

Kiaza said nothing, the weight of expectation suddenly making his throat close up.

“Do you even want me here?”

“Yes.” It was more of a breath than an actual word, but Jeremiah followed the pressure on his wrist as Kiaza tugged him down onto the bed.

Without speaking, they moulded against each other in the nest of blankets, and Kiaza felt a little hot coil of pleasure seep through his brain at having the taller human wrapped around him, keeping him sheltered and safe. It was a ridiculous thought; that anyone could be kept safe by a human, but it didn’t stop Kiaza from making a soft noise and pressing his flat features into Jeremiah’s chest. He really shouldn’t be so happy to be cuddling with the pushy human.

“Kai? Sorry, Kiaza?”

“People call me Kia.” Kiaza found his voice shook slightly when he talked. “I heard Atoki calling you ‘Jem’.”

“Yeah, I kinda like it. It’s cute.” Jeremiah’s fingertips drew a soft line over the curve of Kiaza’s scaly shoulder. “Please stay here with me.”

“But…”

“Shhh…” Jeremiah put his finger against Kiaza’s lips. The little snake blinked softly at him. “You care what your friends think of you. They don’t have to know. Just stay here.”

“OK.” Kiaza pressed himself back against Jeremiah’s chest, so he wouldn’t have to cope with looking in his eyes. The boy was too honest, too open. He was like an empath without the reflection, the skills or the barriers to control what he felt. He just opened right up and said everything that was on his mind.

While Kiaza had spent the last three days avoiding the human, he had also listened into every single conversation where his name had come up, and no one he lived with had been shy about sharing their opinions on the newest edition to the house. Everyone liked him, and Jeremiah had become good friends with the only other true human and his mate very easily. But everyone enjoyed his company, and he had settled in with jokes and laughter and an acerbic wit around the dining table that had made even Kiorl sit up and take notice. Kiaza didn’t quite know what he was still worried about, except himself.

Jeremiah kissed the top of his head, the thick ridged scales that made up the pattern of his scalp, and Kiaza responded by pushing his forehead against the human’s sternum. Jeremiah made a soft grunt of surprise, and Kiaza realised they had both been silent so long that Jeremiah had probably assumed he’d fallen asleep. Kiaza tilted his face and found Jeremiah smiling gently at him. Neither of them said anything, but the human’s kiss was as good as Kiaza remembered. Maybe someone had taught him to kiss like that, or maybe the young man was just naturally gifted, but Kiaza dissolved under the onslaught of his tongue. The human tasted like spiced lamb with honey, the subtle tang of caraway seeds and sweet apricots. Kiaza softened, his whole body going limp and boneless against Jeremiah’s, and desire ran its course through him, flooding him with warmth.

Every instinct he had told him to take command of the situation, twist the game around until he was in control. Jeremiah could fuck him all he liked, but Kiaza would be the one in the driver’s seat, setting the pace and dictating when the moment of pleasure would come and explode behind their eyes. But now Kiaza didn’t really want to listen to his instincts. There was a softer urge, new, young and small, which told him to lie back and let go. To let go would mean to surrender to the ministrations of another, to let Jeremiah decide when and how they would find pleasure together. Just when he was at the point of giving in, Kiaza found he couldn’t do it.

“No.”

“Kia?”

“I can’t.” Kiaza hated that his voice sounded so small and weak.

For a moment he was filled with rage. Inai never felt like this, felt helpless, because he was about six feet wide across the shoulders. The other demons were strong, physically strong, whereas the most damage Kiaza could do to anyone was to bite them. It felt like a coward’s way out. Even Nassau, who wasn’t particularly big physically, was still imposing with his arrogance and huge wings. Kiaza hated being small and soft. He hissed his displeasure, and changed shape in Jeremiah’s hands.

“O-K…” Jeremiah spoke carefully as he looked up. “Much as I like Vru, I don’t really want to have sex with him. Come on Kia, you don’t need to hide from me.”

His new voice box growled.

“Let me prove it to you then.” Jeremiah took Kiaza’s chin and tilted his face down. “Let me see those pretty green eyes.”

The one thing Kiaza could never change was his eyes. No matter how he tried, the eyes stuck just the way they were. Luminously green, flecked with bright shards of acidic yellow, the black pupils were slit and sharp. When Jeremiah kissed him, the demon softened in his arms, returning back to his scales. The human wasted no time in running his hands down Kiaza’s nubile little body, pulling him close and cupping his arse. Jeremiah wasn’t exactly shy about going after what he wanted, and it was easy to open up to the onslaught of desire like a freight train. By the time they broke for air, the conclusion was unavoidable.

Kiaza twisted around, pushed Jeremiah’s spine into the bedding. He couldn’t let Jeremiah be in control, couldn’t open up to him. The image of the snake on his back letting his human pound him into oblivion was oh-so-sweet and delicious in his mind, but he couldn’t admit he wanted it yet. Instead Kiaza did what he knew best and straddled the young man underneath him, gripping him with his thighs. Jeremiah was hard, his fleshy deep pink cock dripping in anticipation as he wrapped his hands around Kiaza’s own erection.

“You’re perfect.”

Kiaza blinked hard, refusing to believe what his ears had told him. He gulped, though about shifting, but Jeremiah squeezed his cock fast and too tightly. Kiaza gasped at the sudden pain, but looked down into Jeremiah’s eyes as he panted.

“Don’t shift. Stay with me now.”

The little demon gulped and closed his eyes, because that was somehow easier, and allowed Jeremiah to help lift him, spread the smooth mounds of his arse. The boy radiated heat and Kiaza soaked it up, desperate for warmth. He flicked his tongue, and the air was humid and tasted like Jeremiah. Kiaza pricked his thumb pad with his fangs, spreading ichor over himself before transferring the slick liquid to Jeremiah’s bobbing cock-head. The substance gave him control, and even though it was Jeremiah who was pulling his hips down, Kiaza could use his powers to dictate everything about their copulation.

Jeremiah was being too soft, gentle, kind, and Kiaza hissed between his teeth and pulled their bodies together with a thud. The young man laughed breathlessly, twisting his hips, his throbbing member pushing against all of Kiaza’s hotspots. The snake shivered and moaned against him, and Jeremiah pressed his advantage, grabbed Kiaza’s face and ravaged him with his tongue. Whatever the hold Kiaza thought he had held, he let it go. Like fingers losing grip on a hand hold in a rock face, there was a moment of deep calm, the knowledge that what’s done is done and nothing could be done about it. Kiaza exhaled, and then the panic set in.

He had never had sex only in his own shape. He didn’t think he’d ever started out wearing his very own scales. He’d never relinquished control, never lost the grip he maintained, never allowed anyone, let alone a human, to dictate the pace of their pleasure. It made him panic, but it was almost a relief. Jeremiah grinned, obviously pleased as any boy buried balls deep in the most beautiful creature alive was want to be, and ran his hands over Kiaza’s body. The snake nearly purred.

“You feel amazing.” Jeremiah managed between panted breaths. “Please don’t make me wait this long again.”

Kiaza stared at him, their faces only inches apart, and groaned as Jeremiah stroked his erection in time with his deep thrusts. The boy burned for him, almost physically, the heat enough to warm Kiaza through in a way that normally only happened in the desert sun and sand. He still had power, but it was different this time. He gripped around Jeremiah, every inch of the young man’s hard flesh sliding into him, bringing more and more pleasure. Kiaza moaned and Jeremiah kissed him, taking the opportunity to open him up, push deeper and further until their bones shook with the force of the pounding. Kiaza could see the boy’s pleasure burning below his ribs like a star at close distance.

It had been centuries since he had done anything other than trap and dampen such flames, but now he wrapped his mind around the light, linked it to his own ball of pulsing brightness and pulled them both up the surface. Jeremiah emitted a guttural groan, his rhythm faltered, and they came together, foreheads touching, both panting and gasping and struggling to breathe. Kiaza moaned at the wash of heat as Jeremiah flooded him, the aftershocks which cracked like an electrical charge along his limbs. Kiaza kissed him; it seemed like the right thing to do.

Jeremiah groaned as his softened penis slipped from Kiaza’s slick tunnel. The little demon wriggled against him happily as the warmth of orgasm soaked through him. Jeremiah let out a breathless sort of laugh.

“You’re cute when you smile.”

“Jem…” Kiaza hid his face quickly. “Hey.” Jeremiah grabbed his chin to look at him. “I didn’t know you could blush.” Kiaza rubbed at the blue tint which had risen under the tiny soft scales of his cheeks.

“It only happens when I’m really warm.”

“And that’s a good thing right?” Jeremiah looked deeply smug and self-satisfied.

“Yes.” Kiaza smiled. “Warm is definitely good.”

Jeremiah wiped the snake demon’s sticky emission from his abdomen. Kiaza burrowed into his side, snuggling into the bed: he did not feel like getting up to get clean. They lay in the half light of the room for a while before Kiaza reached up and twisted a sigil between his fingers. It glowed softly for a moment, and then the lights dimmed.

“Wow.” Jeremiah stroked his bed-mates back absently. “I just realised there’s a lot I don’t know about you.”

“Kiorl hates candles.” Kiaza mumbled. “He uses magic to show off.”

“And you?”

“I learnt magic from Kiorl, and Nassau. It seems a long time ago now.” Kiaza found Jeremiah’s lips with his fingertips. “Please… let’s not tell anyone.”

“Er… OK.” The boy kissed his hand softly. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep you warm.”

Kiaza smiled. Jeremiah would fall asleep easily, warm and happy in the soft bed, with the slender shape of the demon in his arms. Kiaza already felt guilty knowing that the young man was going to wake up alone.