Where the Devil Says Goodnight

by K. A. Merikan

  The way Emil had looked at him when they were close would forever be engraved at the back of Adam’s eyelids. In that moment of pleasure and connection, nothing beyond the two of them mattered.

  The sentiment was a stupid fancy because Emil had surely just been happy to bed Adam, like he’d wanted since they’d met. It had been impossible to resist him when those forest-green eyes pinned Adam to the bed, when he was so absolutely gorgeous with his hair in disarray and a flush on his smiling face.

  It was almost as if Emil had been put in Adam’s path for the sole purpose of testing his faith. And he’d failed.

  Had Adam somehow invited the devil into his heart with too many sinful thoughts?

  He’d always been a bad seed. Easy to tempt, he’d had issues with his sugar consumption as a kid, compulsively stole from shops as a teen, and got hooked on social media and gossip. But men were his biggest vice. When he was younger and had much less self-control, he’d touch himself more than once daily, thinking of his friends and strangers alike in ways that would have surely made them despise him.

  And last night, he’d learned the taste, the feel, and the scent of an aroused man. He’d failed everyone. But most of all, he’d failed himself.

  He didn’t even want to get out of bed, too depressed by it all. No matter how brightly the sun shone today, the truth was that the demon might still reside inside him. Last night, it had made him commit despicable acts and revealed them as the fulfillment of Adam’s most secret dreams. What if this happened again? What if the devil made him get on a train to Cracow and whore himself out in the darkroom of a gay club?

  Why was he getting aroused by this?

  Adam groaned and pressed his face into the pillow. A sharp knocking made him sit up. Mrs. Janina entered in her customary set of headscarf and housedress the moment he invited her in.

  “You overslept. Have you been to the same party as the pastor?” She asked, and the frown marring her forehead told Adam Father Marek’s conduct impressed her just as little as Adam’s.

  “No. But I think… I have a migraine,” Adam lied before settling his head back on the pillow. Nothing could lure him outside today. He wished he could bury himself deep in the forest, where no one would ever find him alive.

  Mrs. Janina frowned. “There is no time for this. The church has been desecrated, it’s a travesty. The door’s been opened, the statue ruined, and the perpetrators have left behind a weapon. What if it’s a threat, Father?”

  Adam’s heart thudded against his ribcage. “A weapon?”

  The housekeeper crossed her arms and looked around as if she were searching for something to criticize. Fortunately, Adam had always been a tidy man. “Yes. A whip. Pastor Marek told me to call the police.”

  The bed attempted to swallow Adam, and he didn’t want to resist its pull. If Mrs. Janina knew the extent of his involvement in the desecration, she’d have whipped him herself.

  Now, he would lose one more shield against sin, because he couldn’t admit that the scourge belonged to him.

  “Then we better stay here. Keep the crime scene untouched.”

  Mrs. Janina eyed him, as if she could see right through his laziness, but she nodded in the end. “True, I’ve seen that kind of thing on crime shows. I will indulge you in a late breakfast, Father, but I wouldn’t like these migraines to turn into a habit.”

  As if he could control a migraine. If he actually had one.

  She looked at the window. “Fresh air should help with your headache. Come over when you’re ready.”

  Oh, how merciful she was.

  Adam only relaxed when the door closed.

  He wasn’t hungry anyway. Who would have been after having another man hammer his cock inside them?

  He’d showered twice last night, but it hadn’t stripped his skin of Emil’s scent. The rotten part of him whispered that he should be thankful that he got to experience sex at least this once, regardless of the circumstances.

  Because he had wanted it. Emil had kissed him in dreams that made Adam sweat and his cock swell, and as much as he detested it, the demon had given him exactly what he desired and in its twisted way, satisfied a craving Adam had been struggling with all his life.

  But there was another possibility, one that frightened Adam even more. Mental illnesses often ran in the family, and while his mother had never been diagnosed, some of her paranoid behaviors skirted the edge of pathology. If there had been no supernatural intrusion, then he was losing his grip on reality.

  The little boy inside him longed to talk to someone more experienced, but Father Marek was an older man, set in his ways and, like Adam used to, didn’t believe supernatural powers affected people’s lives in dramatic ways. And a man of his generation might be wary of living under the same roof as someone who suffered from delusions. Pope Francis himself said he did not want mentally unstable young men to take on the priesthood. If anyone found out, Adam’s career in the Church, the one way he could serve the Lord, would be over.

  He glanced at the pilled black sweater he’d neatly folded on the chair. Even though it smelled of washing powder, it still carried a faint aroma of Emil. A bit of nicotine, fresh wood, and a dark cologne Adam had breathed in as Emil’s cock pulsed inside him.

  Despite the bitterness of last night, Emil had believed Adam. But now that they were apart, Adam was freaking out, because he couldn’t check whether his hands had really left burns on Emil’s flesh.

  He lay still for endless minutes, gaze settled on the black sweater, but he could avoid Mrs. Janina for only so long and left his room, keeping his guard up as high as possible. The scent of tea was the first good thing that happened to him since last night, but he stopped in front of the kitchen, feeling awkward about breaking up Mrs. Janina’s phone conversation. She was talking to someone about being unable to lend them money. Hardly a topic she’d like to share with him, but he chose not to make the same mistake he had on the first day of his stay in Dybukowo and stepped inside, intent on going straight to the dining room. But halfway through the kitchen, he looked out of the window and spotted a tall figure in black.

  Emil was hitching Jinx to the gate at the front of the church.

  Adam wasn’t ready to face him, not in daylight, not ever. Not when every move he made reminded him of the intense sex they’d had last night.

  Mrs. Janina put down the handset, unaware of Adam’s distress. “I bet it’s those boys from Myszkowice. They come riding through Dybukowo on their motorbikes every now and then. Police won’t do anything about them, and I’ve called them about it many times.”

  “Mrs. Janina? Please tell him I’m not in,” Adam said and ran before she could have finished asking who Adam was talking about.

  He burst into his room and shut it before diving back under the covers. Maybe the comforter would choke him to death, and that would be the end of his misery.

  Enclosed in the burning hot cocoon, he listened to his own breathing in the cave made of fabric and down. In. Out. In Out.

  Maybe the devil already left his body, and he was now free? He needed to have faith and wait before he did something that couldn’t be undone.

  “What the hell, Adam? I can see you,” Emil said from just a couple of paces away, and when Adam peeked out from under the covers, Emil was already climbing inside through the narrow window.

  Cleaned up, in those sinfully tight jeans and a T-shirt with the words Not Today Satan, he was the last person Adam wanted to see.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” Adam whispered, glancing at the closed door. “What if she hears that you’re here?”

  Emil spread his arms. “What are you even talking about? You were possessed by a demon last night, and you care what Mrs. Luty would say if she saw me in your room? Are we fifteen?”

  Adam’s face boiled, because when Emil stepped his way and the T-shirt tightened around his torso, all he could think about was the way Emil held him down last night. “You’re one to talk. What is that print? A
re you making fun of me?”

  Emil grinned, looking down at the words on his T-shirt. “I thought it was appropriate. All others in my collection are more like ‘nice to see you, Satan’.”

  Adam pushed back the comforter and rose, stepping toward the door in order to put some distance between him and the object of his very-real wet dreams. “We shouldn’t be alone like this.”

  Emil cocked his head. “You wanna tell Father Marek the devil sat you on my dick?”

  Adam swallowed, stepping back as guilt seamlessly intertwined with arousal, both pushing him away from Emil and inviting him closer. “You’re so crude. I don’t want to discuss this ever again.”

  “Listen, I’m not here to talk about your repressed sex issues, but I will not be dismissed about magic. We need to explore this, find out more. It could be ground-breaking. I couldn’t sleep last night. I was thinking that maybe what is happening to you has something to do with Mrs. Zofia’s murder. Aren’t crows associated with witches and magic, like black cats and goats?”

  Adam had no right to demand anything from the man he’d rejected, but it still stung to know that while he’d been sleepless over visions of their brief time together, Emil had focused on magic and demons. But what did Adam expect? Sex was nothing out of the ordinary for someone like Emil, so why would he see last night as special in any way?

  “I don’t know. There’s no magic. I feel fine now. I’m sure we had some kind of collective hallucination. Or folie à deux,” he said, pushing his fingers through his hair while circling the perimeter of his room to avoid getting too close to the beautiful beast who had invaded his safe haven. His stupid brain kept suggesting that Emil was the dragon to storm his tower, but in that scenario, he’d be a princess. He did not like that analogy much.

  Emil shook his head and peeled off his T-shirt. Adam had seen him naked, and in detail at that, but right here, in the bright sunshine, he was a sight to behold. Thick, meaty pecs, pink nipples, and a powerful chest dusted with dark hair.

  Emil twisted his body, which only made the muscles on his sides more pronounced, and pointed to the bits of his skin Adam had dressed yesterday. “My burns are no fucking hallucination. Last time I checked you didn’t have hot irons for hands.”

  Adam’s lips went dry, and he approached, focused on two red imprints, each with five fingers. He placed his hand on one of the burns, and when it fit perfectly, the floor under his feet seemed to creak, as if there was a bottomless pit just below, ready to suck him in. He pulled away with fright burning through his body like acid.

  “He really did make me do it—”

  Emil shook his head, standing that inch closer than before, and looking straight into Adam’s eyes. “Yes, a demon made you do that horrible, horrible thing. Especially at the end, when you held my hands. Everyone knows Satan’s such a romantic.”

  Adam’s chest tightened, as if his ribs would rather squash his heart than let him live with the shame of what Emil implied.

  He couldn’t move when Emil swallowed, and his sneaky hands reached for Adam’s hips.

  “Adam, please. We had a connection. I know it’s a difficult thing for someone in your position, but you seem really sweet. We could take things slow, if that’s what you want.” Before Adam could flinch, Emil gave him the gentlest kiss on the lips.

  Warm claws sank into Adam once again, but before he could have struggled, tried to push Emil away, a strange murmur rose all around, as if hundreds of fingers tapped on wood at the same time. Fur slid across Adam’s bare foot, and he stepped back, only to be tossed into yet another nightmare.

  Field mice poured out from under his bed and closet, they pushed their way under the door, they swarmed on the windowsill, like bees about to protect their hive.

  Emil screamed, and in a most surreal gesture, he grabbed Adam and lifted him to the bed, while staying on the floor himself and kicking away rodents, some of which seemed adamant on climbing up his legs.

  His wide gaze turned to Adam. “Make them stop!” he yelled to Adam as if any of this could be Adam’s doing.

  But what if… it was?

  Adam had never shared any kind of bond with mice, but the frequency of coincidences in his recent life suggested they were anything but. “Shoo, go away!” he said with little energy, only to utter a high-pitched sound when the tiny animals changed direction, charging toward the open window like a herd of antelopes running from a lion.

  Emil was still catching his breath, but he spread his arms. “You still gonna tell me we don’t need to investigate?”

  Adam watched him with his throat pulsing from all the conflicting emotions buzzing inside him at once. It now occurred to him that this wasn’t the first time Emil had acted chivalrously toward him. Maybe he should have felt offended over being treated like a girl who needed protection from mice, of all things, but how could he if Emil’s reactions seemed so genuine?

  “Maybe you’re right. But you can’t kiss me. I’m celibate, and I intend to stick to my vows.”

  You’ve already broken them, a tiny voice at the back of his mind whispered, but he shrugged it off.

  There was a rapping on the door and Adam thanked God and all the saints that he’d locked it.

  “Is everything all right? I heard strange noises,” Father Marek said.

  “Go,” Adam whispered to Emil and pointed at the window, where a couple of the rodents lingered. “Wait by the little shrine at the crossing.”

  Emil held his gaze through the curtain of dark hair but didn’t hesitate and climbed outside, leaving Adam with his gums throbbing in hunger.

  Chapter 12 - Emil

  Emil stroked Jinx’s mane, still rattled about the mice coming at him out of nowhere and leaving at Adam’s command. But just beneath the surface of fear were coals that spread their heat all over his body. What had happened last night had not been natural. Whether it was good or bad, Adam was part of something that questioned Emil’s worldview, and they needed to uncover what this new reality meant. Emil would be there for Adam on this journey, even if it meant swallowing the bitter pill of rejection.

  He’d opened up and tried to communicate as honestly as possible, so if that wasn’t enough, Emil would keep his feelings to himself from now on. He tried to dismiss his disappointment as anger over Adam’s unwillingness to put out again, but he knew deep down that had nothing to do with the truth. The emotions Adam made him feel were about much more than sex at this point, and Emil hadn’t even noticed when that changed.

  It was as if they knew each other from a previous life, and their souls understood they shared a bond that couldn’t be expressed with something as conventional as words.

  Emil hadn’t accepted himself as a gay man straight off the bat either, so he felt for Adam who seemed as lost as a deer on a highway.

  “What am I supposed to do about this mess? It’ll be hard to forget last night,” Emil told Jinx, who snorted and shook his giant head, chasing flies away. A part of him wanted to tell Radek a censored version of what happened, but that would have been a betrayal of Adam’s trust. He needed to keep it all—the joys and the disappointments—to himself.

  His stallion pulled on the reins and peeked over Emil’s shoulder, standing taller, as if he were saluting his king.

  The back of Emil’s neck tingled, but he looked back, disappointed to see Adam running toward him in a cassock. Without the customary clothes of a priest, he seemed like a normal guy. A guy who was available, so it was safe to assume that by dressing in such somber clothes he wanted to communicate he was anything but. Regardless of his desires, he’d made it clear that he took his vows seriously.

  No matter how much Emil wanted to get his hands on the athletic body hidden under a thick layer of black fabric, on the pale lips and golden skin, they weren’t his to take.

  “Hey. Everything okay at the church? I heard they’re considering what they found a hate crime?”

  Adam cleared his throat and rested his hands on his hips, breathing sof
tly as Jinx stepped closer to smell him. “I removed my fingerprints from the… whip left in the church. Someone needs to come over from the office of the Provincial Monument Conservator to decide what to do about the damaged sculpture. In other news, Father Marek doesn’t have a hangover. That man’s gonna outlive all of us.”

  Emil guessed last night’s passion was a taboo topic as well, and while he wanted to honor Adam’s wishes, he couldn’t help the sense of loss at the pit of his stomach. He’d been on his own for so long he learned how to trick himself that he wasn’t lonely, but the raw closeness he’d experienced in bed with Adam proved that he’d been lying to himself all this time. For the span of those twenty minutes, he’d felt truly connected to someone. He’d been seen and understood, but the fact that there was a third player in the room, not only watching but imprisoning Adam within his own body turned all of Emil’s giddiness to rot.

  “Will you ride home with me?” Emil patted Jinx’s rump where it was scarred from his many accidents, which had somehow still left him without any serious injuries.

  Adam hesitated, but in the end his lips stretched into a soft smile. “How about we walk?” he asked before brushing the backs of his fingers against Jinx’s soft nose. The morning sun shone through his fair hair, transforming it into thin rays of light illuminating Adam’s head like a halo.

  Emil wished to touch it, but kept his hands to himself, silently mourning what could have been if Adam wasn’t a priest. He should have never stuck his hand into the beehive because now he’d tasted the honey of Adam’s lips only to get stung, and would forever know what he was missing out on.

  Emil grabbed Jinx’s reins and started walking. “So I’m guessing that whip was what left the bruising on your back?”

  Adam lowered his head but didn’t react with anger. “I know what you think. But it really helps me stay in control.”

  Emil swallowed, uncomfortable yet desperate to uncover more. Self-flagellation was hardly an appropriate topic for their surroundings—a sea of wheat shining brightly in the growing June sunshine.