by P. K. Tyler
“No, I mean, yes, but I just found out.” Nik struggled to sit up and Zeph wanted to help him, wanted to reach out, but clenched his fists instead.
“So this isn’t real?” He gestured between the two of them, for the first time openly acknowledging the relationship he’d been warding off. “It’s just another part of you being a Sin Eater?”
“It’s real,” Elemiah said, her craggy face softened with a smile. “It's the most real thing you’ll ever know.”
CHAPTER TEN
Nik groaned as he eased down on the twin bed in Dika's room. His body had been badly injured, but he would live. It wasn't the worst beating he'd taken, not by far. The worst he'd taken didn't show any marks anyway. The worst had been delivered by the man who stared back at him in the bathroom mirror. Nothing would ever compare to the pain he felt when he thought too long about Zeph or the future they would never have.
Clean shaven and smelling like old lady soap, Zeph walked into the room.
"I'll sleep on the floor," he said without even a look in Nik's direction.
Nik watched as the priest pulled off his button-up shirt, covered in Nik’s blood, to reveal a tight fitting, black tank top. Fuck if it didn't make his cock hard to see Zeph undressing. The blood rushing through his body reignited every injury, making him wince.
"Is it that bad?" Zeph narrowed his eyes and ran his gaze over Nik's still clothed body.
"Nah, I'm just a whiner." Nik tried to sit up, to defuse the moment with a joke like he always did, but the motion took his breath away and he collapsed back on the bed in pain.
"Why didn't you say something?" Zeph rushed over and hovered over him. His hands reached out and then jerked back. "What do you need? Should I get the angels? Maybe they can heal you like they did Vai."
"No. I don’t need anything, Zeph, just go to sleep."
"Why do you pretend everything's fine when it's clearly not?"
"Because otherwise I would never be able to get out of bed in the morning," Nik shot back, cruelty in his voice. Zeph winced and Nik instantly wished he could take the words back, he didn't want to hurt his friend. What he wanted was the complete opposite, but not being able to have it was killing him.
"Let's at least see how bad it is." Zeph's face settled into the serene priestly visage Nik associated with the distance between them, and he grabbed the hem of Nik's shirt.
"What the fuck?" Nik jerked away, but the pain in his ribs fought back, lighting up like a lightning storm.
"I can't tell how bad you're hurt without looking."
Nik would have sworn he saw a smirk on his face, but the red tinge of pain swimming through his vision made it impossible to tell.
Zeph reached out again, grabbing Nik's shirt with one hand and helping him sit up with the other. He eased the shirt up over his battered body, exposing the blossoming bruises and dried blood. At the cut on his shoulder, the shirt ripped away the healing scab and Nik hissed.
"Sorry," Zeph whispered. Carefully, he stripped the shirt off Nik without ever touching his skin. "Can you take off your jeans?"
Nik wanted to joke, wanted to make some crass comment that would turn the moment into a dig and lighten the mood, but he was just too tired. He nodded and unbuttoned his pants before lifting his hips and sliding them down to his thighs.
Zeph helped slide them down over his legs. The fabric burned as it pulled over his aching shins. He watched Zeph's shoulders tighten as he looked over his injuries and wished that, just for tonight, the stupid idiot would let go of whatever he thought was more important than them being together and hold him. He didn't even want a fuck. Pain had deflated his cock and Zeph's gentle, fleeting touch was breaking his heart. Nik didn't ask for anything, he didn't want a marriage proposal or a promise of forever, but shit, he'd give everything he had just to be fucking held tonight.
Tears leaked from his eyes and he forced himself onto his side facing the wall, away from Zeph. The last thing he needed right now was for whatever ego he had left to be broken along with his body. All of it wrapped up together overwhelmed him: the possibility of having to kill Adel, the confusion over whatever the demons were doing, the grief over losing Ma just after he'd found someone he believed could really love him, and the years of misery he'd trapped deep inside over losing Zeph but never being able to move on from him. It built up in his chest, a hard rock of agony and heartache, choking him as he fought back tears.
"Nik?"
"Just go away, Zeph."
"Nik, what is it? Are you hurt that badly? Should we try to get to a hospital?"
"No."
Zeph sat on the edge of the bed for a moment, stiff and still.
Nik could feel every minute movement of the bed. He heard every breath the priest took.
After a moment, Zeph laid a hand on Nik's arm, warm and strong. It wasn't the tentative touch from before or the usual fleeting whisper of contact. This was solid and it burned through him.
Nik jerked away and sat up, staring at Zeph who had recoiled from the sudden movement. His injuries didn't matter, they paled compared to the pain Zeph kept inflicting on him.
"What do you want?" he demanded.
"I want to know how to help. I'm worried about you." Zeph's voice came out in a rush, the words blending together on one breath. Like it killed him to tell the truth.
"You can help by laying down on the floor and leaving me the fuck alone, okay? I'm hurt. I need sleep." Nik choked on the last words and the tears in the corners of his eyes swelled. Sleep wasn't what he needed, but he'd never have what he really wanted. That was the real tragedy of his life.
"Fighting today almost killed you." Zeph's eyes dipped down to Nik's body again and a blush rose to his cheeks, making him look younger. His dark hair stuck out in all directions, giving him an uncharacteristically unruly appearance. He stuffed his hands in his pants pockets and stared at the floor.
Nik wanted so badly to pull him close and hold him tight, to guide Zeph's head onto his own shoulder where it fit perfectly because he was a few inches shorter. He wanted to pull the dark t-shirt off his best friend and run his hands across the muscles of his chest, and lower. Nik so desperately wanted Zeph's soft hands to soothe him, his strong arms to comfort him.
But he couldn't bring himself to break the barrier between them, couldn't even imagine how.
"That isn't what's going to kill me." Nik couldn't hold the words back. Exhaustion and need pushed him to his limit and everything he held back, everything he did because he thought it was right to honor his friend's request so he could have what few scraps of Zeph's affection he was tossed, stopped mattering. "It's you. You're going to be what kills me. I keep my arms wrapped around your heart and all you do is kick me like unwanted trash."
Zeph sucked in a breath and pulled away from Nik's words, but he couldn't stop. Now that he'd started, it poured out of him like lava from a steaming volcano.
"You say you do all this for me," Nik continued, "but you don't, you do it for you. How many years are you going to make me suffer for what your father did? It has nothing to do with me and yet here I am, still being punished for his fucked up shit."
"You have no idea what you're talking about." Zeph stood up and stepped back. His fists clenched and Nik saw that spark of violence in his eyes that always gave him a thrill, but right now all he felt was sadness. He wanted nothing more than for Zeph to lash out, to open his fucking mouth and yell at him, to stop holding back.
Despite the pain, Nik stood up and squared his shoulders. "Look at me."
Zeph's eyes drifted to the floor.
"No. Fuck you. Look at me." Nik stepped forward and shoved Zeph back.
The priest looked back up and his arm tensed as if he was going to throw a punch.
"Go ahead," Nik said. "Hit me. It would be better than this bullshit. You see me bruised and bleeding after fighting God knows what kind of evil is clawing its way out of Hell and you know what? None of it hurts. None of it scares me at all. The only thi
ng that hurts, that really fucking kills me, is you. Hit me, then I can at least know that you feel something for once."
"I don't want to hurt you." Zeph deflated, his hands relaxing, limp at his side.
"And yet you do, every damn day."
"Nik, I can't be what you want me to be."
"Then stop. Just fucking stop. Stop calling me and I'll stop coming to you. I can't keep doing this." Nik sat back down on the bed, the heartache settling deep into his bones
"You're my best friend. You’re my only friend," Zeph said.
"It doesn't matter. You're breaking my heart, Zeph. I love you." Nik stared at the ground as he spoke, the fight completely drained from him. His tears finally began to fall.
"I love you, too," Zeph said and approached the bed. He reached out with a tentative hand. When it landed in Nik's hair, the touch was light at first, like a breath ghosting over his skin. But he came closer and his fingers wove into Nik's hair as he pulled his best friend's head into his lap.
Nik wrapped both his arms around Zeph's middle and held on. This was his purchase in the storm, his anchor at sea. He clung to Zeph and cried. The tears fell without concern for pride or restraint and it felt good. Nik let his exhaustion, his disappointment, his hope, and everything that he held onto so hard fall away, drained from his beaten body with his tears.
Zeph's hands moved through his hair and around his shoulders. He held Nik and soothed him with words and strong touches.
Nik breathed in Zeph's closeness and mourned all the things they couldn't have.
Zeph sat next to him, but didn't pull away. He smoothed Nik's hair from his face and wiped the tears away with his thumbs.
When Nik looked up, it wasn't the smile of priest that he saw, but his friend, his life.
"I've never wanted to hurt you Nik."
"I know."
"You know I've only done all this, held myself back, for you. I've given my entire life to you." Zeph smiled sadly.
"What are you talking about? I never asked you—"
"No, you didn't. What you do, it's so dangerous. When I lived with Father Tobias he told me about it, about the Old Order and the danger you're in."
"I know that, but what does that have to do with you?"
"When you take that Sin in, you're in a battle. You're good against its evil. But Nik, you aren't good."
Nik pulled away and sat up. "What are you talking about?"
"Your life, your love for me... It's a sin."
"What I do has nothing to do with that kind of sin."
"How do you know? According to the church, you're damned. I can’t really believe that, but that sin is still a stain on your soul. Father Thomas told me I could help you, that I could hold your sins for you, that I could be the sacrifice that would make you strong and pure. That way, you'd be strong enough. That way, you'd be safe."
Nik stared at Zeph playing the words over in his head. "You think you've been... what...? That you've been somehow absolving me of my sins by committing none of your own?"
Zeph nodded and held his hands in his lap. One thumb rubbed the other in a nervous habit Nik hadn't seen in years.
"You gave me up, your entire life up? To protect me?"
Zeph looked up, all the unsaid words, all the unshared promises, shining in his eyes.
Nik reached out and took Zeph's hands in his own, stilling the jittery thumb with his own. "I don't need you to do that. I'm strong enough. More than. I'm not afraid of demons, or Hell or even God. The only thing that scares me is losing you."
"You should be afraid. Every day you risk your life, your very soul, and you do it all for strangers. You give everything and no one even knows how amazing you are. If I can help you, if I can keep you safe," he looked up into Nik's eyes, "I'd do anything for you."
The words hung in the air between them.
Nik leaned forward and brushed his lips over Zeph's. He didn't press, didn't force a kiss between them, but couldn't stop himself from making contact. Zeph's admission proved everything Nik had known. He'd known the priest still loved him, but he'd never imagined what kept them apart.
Instead of pulling away, Zeph leaned in closer, changing what had been a whisper into a scream. His lips pressed against Nik and his hands loosened their hold on each other. He reached out, wrapping one hand around Nik's neck into his hair and placing the other on his leg.
Nik gasped, the reality of this touch taking his breath away. He deepened the kiss, opening his mouth and pulling on Zeph's lip. Passion and need surged through him and, as he moved closer, the injuries he'd suffered railed in protest, but he didn't care. All he cared about was the man in front of him, this beautiful man who loved him back.
Zeph pulled a little on Nik's hair and opened his mouth. Their tongues met and Nik tasted lust and toothpaste. He cupped Zeph's face with his hand, pulling them closer so their chests almost touched. He wanted more. He wanted to feel and taste every inch of Zeph's body. He wanted to dive into him and give him everything.
Zeph pulled back and Nik clung to him, terrified this was going to end. Zeph would tell him it was just a kiss and that now everything had to go back to the way it had been. Nik's chest tightened and he couldn't breathe. He turned away, dropping his hands from Zeph, ready for the crushing pain of rejection. Again.
"Nik?" Zeph said, his hands still on Nik's body.
"It's okay, you don't have to say it." Nik's heart clenched.
"Come back." Zeph moved closer and put a hand on Nik's cheek, forcing him to turn his head and face him.
When Nik looked at Zeph, he expected to find the hard resolve of his priestly facade, but instead, all he found was love.
"I just wanted to tell you I missed you." Zeph's lip quivered.
"Goddammit, you scared me!" Nik wrapped his arms around Zeph and pulled him tight against his chest. "I thought you were going to tell me... I thought you were going to say..."
"I know." Zeph ran his hands down Nik's back, leaving warmth in their wake. "I'm sorry. I don't know what to do, but I can't keep doing this. I can't keep pretending I don't love you." He placed soft kisses in Nik's hair and held him tight.
Nik sighed, relief flooding his system. As the tension drained away, his injuries tingled. His whole body felt like it was buzzing. He didn’t want to lose the feeling of having Zeph close.
When Nik pulled away, Zeph gasped and reached out for his arm. “Your burns,” he said taking Nik’s left hand and examining it closely. “They barely look pink now.”
“I guess you do have that healing touch,” Nik teased, taking Zeph’s other hand. "Will you sleep with me tonight?"
Zeph tensed, his whole body went rigid and he pulled away quickly. "I don't... I'm not..." he stammered.
Nik chuckled at the blush rising through Zeph's face and down his neck. "That's not what I meant."
"Oh. What?"
"As much as I'd love that, I think I'm kind of out of commission. I just wanted... I mean, will you just sleep, here, in the bed with me tonight? I don't want to be alone."
"Yeah," Zeph smiled and his whole body relaxed. The worry line between his brows that always seemed etched in place even loosened and smoothed away. He looked years younger and Nik's heart warmed.
Nik maneuvered himself under the covers and held them up for Zeph.
"I'll sleep on top of the covers." Zeph blushed.
"Leaving room for the Holy Spirit?"
"Something like that."
"I promise, I'm not going to jump you in the middle of the night."
"It's not that. I trust you. I'm just not sure I trust myself."
Nik raised an eyebrow and Zeph's blush deepened.
"Okay then," Nik lowered the covers and rolled toward the wall.
The mattress shifted beneath him and Zeph climbed on the bed, still dressed. Nik held his breath, afraid to move or breathe, afraid to speak for fear that this was all a dream and Zeph was going to change his mind or run out of the room and decide to sleep in the tub. Just
as his panic swelled, Zeph laid his head down on the pillow they shared and pressed his nose into the hair at the back of Nik's neck.
Nik shivered, the movement of the air and the closeness of Zeph's body sending signals to his body he was just too injured to act on.
"Good night," Zeph whispered and wrapped an arm over Nik. He pulled his body close against his chest and held on tight for just a moment. The space between them heated even with the old quilt separating their bodies. "I love you."
Nik let out a deep breath and closed his eyes.
EPISODE SIX
Chapter One
Asmodeus leaned back against the uncomfortable plastic chair, following the lines of Belial's back, especially admiring where his torso tapered down into a trim waist. The young demon, half angel since his father was Lucifer himself, would barely feel the night's biting chill.
Belial's leg twitched, almost jumping as he sat. He leaned forward with his elbows resting on his knees and his glare turned toward the floor.
"What's happening? What do we do, now?"
"You are your father's son," Asmodeus said with a smile. A memory of their brief night of ecstasy with Lucifer flashed through his mind. He could feel Adel moaning, deep inside him. Inside her? It was hard to tell where he ended and she began. Technically, her soul hadn't been consumed, not in the traditional sense. He'd consumed her all right, she was his. But with Adel, the possession had taken a different form. In a way, he was just as much hers.
Belial pushed off of the hard chair he was sitting in, his hands clenched at his sides. He paced away from Asmodeus, walking across the small room and back.
Adel whispered, He needs a goal, a purpose. Give him something to do.
Can't risk losing him. Has to be something relatively safe until he's ready to face the Sin Eater.
Asmodeus stood and moved to intercept Belial's next circuit of the room. He placed Adel's slender hands on the young demon's biceps.
"Relax. You're almost finished growing, nearly full strength. And you will be glorious. A true God amongst men. But you must wait a little longer. The angels won't last long in their borrowed forms. We can go soon and destroy them."
