Date from Hell

by Gareth Vaughn

  Archer released him, reached around to grab his balls, and squeezed. Kev yelped, his vision speckling.

  “I told you not to,” said Archer.

  Kev opened his mouth to respond but Archer shuddered on top of him, coming hard. His ass clenched around Kev’s cock and he leaned forward, drawing it out until he was spent. Then he disengaged, hopped off Kev and the statue to the ground. He breathed heavily, but he grinned.

  “Good,” he said, and eyed Kev’s still-longing cock. “Let’s get you off.” He paused, and his grin turned evil. “…of the statue.”

  “Oh, God, please,” said Kev. Something within him flared at the thought of having to delay release again. “You wouldn’t—after all that. Archer. I have to. Please.”

  Archer pulled his terrible flying cheeses boxers on and climbed up to unchain Kev from the angel’s wings.

  “Yeah? You know I’m the one giving the orders.”

  “Are you even human?” asked Kev as Archer moved around, grabbed his ass, and eased him up the cock again. Kev winced, farther down the shaft than was easily comfortable. “You’re far too cruel—oh!”

  Archer released him, let him fall back down the hard cock again. Kev swallowed, licked his lips. Archer leaned in to Kev’s ear.

  “I’d like to point out that one, I don’t currently have a soul, and two, I’m in Hell right now. You’re a demon. You probably deserve worse than a little delayed gratification.”

  A chill went down Kev’s spine, even in the heat. He desperately wanted Archer to fuck him again, right now, hard as he wanted, maybe hard as he could. Instead what he got was Archer easing him off the obsidian cock, more gently than was necessary, taking time to let the hard shaft come out smoothly. Once the head popped free of Kev’s ass, though, Archer dumped him against the angel’s leg. Kev’s entire body trembled, back stiff, ass sore, tired, and still so painfully horny. He took a few moments to steady his breathing, watching Archer put his cloak back on.

  “Your brother,” he said. “You said the deal was about your brother.”

  Archer looked over at him, considered. Kev didn’t think Archer much wanted to talk about the deal he’d made, but he had just used Kev to get off, and maybe that would make him more willing to share. Kev was curious. He wanted to know more about Archer. Maybe, once he was dead and in Hell, Archer would be chosen as a candidate for a demon, too. He certainly seemed able to handle the job, and Kev wouldn’t mind meeting up with him again sometime.

  “You’d know about it if you hadn’t shown up late,” said Archer. He strode over, grabbed Kev’s chains, and hauled the demon up.

  “Maybe I’d still like to know.”

  Archer sighed at that. For a moment, Kev thought he was going to smack him, but instead he pushed Kev along through the other statues and demons enjoying themselves over the smooth obsidian.

  “You fucked the demon who made the deal with me, didn’t you?” asked Archer, and Kev knew he was observing the way his shoulders tensed at that. “Uh huh. That’s why you had my hair. You’re lucky. You could’ve summoned my cat instead.”

  “Cats don’t make good dates,” said Kev, then, before he lost his nerve, “Did you fuck him, too?”

  “No. But damn, did I want to. When he sucked my soul out…”

  “Oh, it feels great,” said Kev, and licked his lips. “And the willfully given blood…the high from it all, that demon would’ve fucked a wall after he was done with your soul.” He paused. “Your blood tastes so good.”

  “Lick it off the back of his throat?” asked Archer, less perturbed about this than Kev was expecting.

  “The side of his mouth. My tongue didn’t get that far.”

  “So that’s why you were interested in me being your date.”

  Kev blinked, suddenly horrified. He stumbled over hot, uneven ground, and though Archer pulled back on the chains, he still hit the packed dirt on his knees.

  “No,” he said. “That’s not…” Kev didn’t want Archer to think he only liked him for his blood. He needed Archer not to think that. He didn’t know why. “It’s not your blood.”

  “You asked for it specifically, before we shook.”

  “Yes, but—”

  “Get up,” said Archer. He tapped Kev with the end of the whip again.

  “Archer…”

  “Whip him,” said a demon a few feet away.

  “It’ll get him up or keep him down, either way it’s fun for all of us,” said another.

  It was then Kev realized they’d collected a small group of horny demons, all circling, all pinning them in the center of the street. The First Bank of Hell was still a small distance away, and this group looked more aggressive than the other demons they’d crossed paths with. That made sense—now that Helloween was well underway, alcohol and indulgence boosted confidence. Kev tilted his gaze down, away from leering eyes, and heard Archer snap the whip loudly in the air.

  “I’m not the one taking orders here,” said Archer.

  “Bet you’ll take them from me,” said a familiar voice, and when Kev looked up, Ira stepped out from the crowd and grinned.

  * * * *

  Archer’s heart skipped a beat, just the one, as he saw the demon he’d made the deal with. Damn, he’d forgotten how tall, how wide this demon was. But Archer’s body remembered the feel of the demon’s lips on his wrist, the high from relinquishing his soul. He was aroused again, and it annoyed him. He’d just fixed that.

  “Then you’d lose,” said Archer as the demon entered the bubble of space the other demons had left around him and Kev. He inclined his chin a little, not afraid exactly, but not sure what their brief bond had done for this demon’s ego.

  “Would I, little human?” asked the demon, and grinned wider. His hair was dark, his frame well-muscled, and he was larger than Archer. When he stepped directly up to him, Archer didn’t flinch. He figured he’d find out if that was a stupid move soon enough.

  The demons around them pulled back a few feet, as though expecting a fight. Archer thought about the knife on his belt, whether he’d be able to use it properly or it would just be another weapon for this demon to take from him. But he wasn’t about to let some demon come and take Kev from him. Or humiliate him, either. So Archer readied himself as best he could in case this demon decided to escalate things.

  “You know who I am?” asked the demon.

  “We made a deal a few nights ago. And?”

  “And,” said the demon, sounding amused. “We’ve got a special bond, you and I.”

  Archer raised an eyebrow at him. He was acutely aware of the other demons watching the interaction, tense, waiting to see what would develop. They all wanted blood. Archer’s blood, he figured, but he’d also given enough.

  “Ira,” said Kev.

  Archer took the opportunity to snap at him, at least look like he asserted some dominance somewhere.

  “Shut up,” he said. “Did I say you could talk?”

  “Who masters the master, hmm?” asked the demon. He still didn’t so much as glance at Kev.

  “Not you,” said Archer.

  “Oh, really? We didn’t properly introduce ourselves the other night. I’m Ira, the sort of demon with influence around here.”

  “Ira. Stallion,” said Archer. He couldn’t help it. It was practically a reflex now, and Ira himself was naked, large cock hanging between his thighs, semi-aroused. In front of Archer, Kev went so red his ears and neck darkened.

  “What?” Ira apparently hadn’t expected that as a response, and he looked all the more aggressive for it.

  “I spent a lot of time researching names,” said Archer, shrugging.

  Several of the demons around them snickered. That didn’t seem to do anything for Ira’s mood, either.

  “Human,” said Ira, “I don’t know what you’re doing here, but that cape looks too big for your shoulders.”

  “Does it?” asked Archer. He’d more or less abandoned the hope of getting out of here without some violence
. He reached up to undo his cloak, thinking all he really needed to do was keep Ira off-balance enough for him and Kev to flee and meet up again at the First Bank of Hell. “I hadn’t noticed. But I wouldn’t want to hurt your eyes.”

  He dropped the cloak to the ground. Ira’s eyes darted to the whip Archer still held and he got the impression the demon wanted to rip it from his hand and use it on him. The arousal from remembering Ira’s lips on his wrist had completely faded, and he felt threatened, ready to fight. Archer had never really been in a fight before but he had a feeling the demons surrounding them wouldn’t just let him leave. He tightened his grip on the whip.

  “You weren’t this confident when you were asking for that deal two nights ago.”

  “Five,” said Kev.

  “Quiet,” said Archer, at the same time Ira snapped at the demon to shut up. He turned back to Ira. “I don’t need you now, asshole. Fuck off.”

  Several whoops traveled through the demon bystanders. Archer figured that was probably enough to piss Ira off, and he was right—the demon moved, fists swinging, but Archer dodged to the side and swung the whip around. The cords struck Ira’s back so hard several of them drew blood. The demon snarled, arched his back.

  Shit. If Archer didn’t get out of here immediately, he’d get his ass more than kicked. He’d had a broken bone once and didn’t really care to relive the experience. He jumped back as Ira whirled, a snarl across the demon’s face. Someone in the crowd had grabbed Kev’s chain to keep him from bolting, although he stayed in the bubble not too far from Ira. Archer wished Kev had the sense to move away, out of Ira’s sight. The last thing Archer wanted was for Kev to become a hostage, but he didn’t really have time to consider it as Ira came at him again, growling incoherently in rage.

  Ira swung; Archer tried to dodge again but the demon’s fist caught his shoulder, knocking him off balance. He aimed for Ira’s face with his fist as they staggered and managed to connect with Ira’s throat. As they both stumbled away, Kev appeared between them, still chained. Archer wanted to yell at him, but he was darting around Ira, and then the aggressive demon was wrapped up in chains and tottering on his feet. Kev had bound him like a dog tripping up its owner, and Ira fell hard to the cracked ground.

  Archer took his opening. He descended on Ira, punched the demon’s face again, and again, despite how it hurt, how his knuckles split. The demons around them whooped, cheered, booed, but didn’t interfere. Archer’s blood pounded hard and he didn’t think about pulling away until Kev called his name. He looked up, met Kev’s eyes. The demon looked concerned.

  “He’s down. Archer.”

  Archer considered, pulled back, then kicked Ira hard in the side. The demon groaned.

  “Didn’t I tell you to shut up?” asked Archer, rubbing the palm of his sore hand even though it was his knuckles that hurt. Kev opened his mouth. “Come here.”

  Archer released him from his chains, since that seemed easier than trying to untangle them from around Ira’s body. They weren’t too far from the First Bank of Hell by his guess anyway, and he wanted to get the fuck away from here as soon as he could. Archer glanced at Ira’s groaning form, the blood across his face, to assure himself the demon was staying down. He didn’t want to think about the fact that at least part of the reason why he couldn’t stop punching Ira was because he’d been at least a little afraid. It was like some switch had been flipped, like he’d forgotten he could throw a punch at all and overcompensated for it.

  “Ow,” said Kev, groaning as his arms came free.

  The demons around them were quieter now, staring. Archer figured Ira was not a demon normally challenged, which only made the urge to get out of here grow. He grabbed Kev’s shoulder as the demon bent to grab the chain and hauled him back up.

  “Let’s get out of here,” he said, muttering the words, and marched Kev to the edge of the bubble, leaving his cloak behind, too. The demons parted to allow them through and Archer shoved Kev, who rubbed at his wrists as they went. Archer marched them several blocks before letting up on Kev, and he let the demon glance back to see if anyone was after them.

  “Well, that was hot,” said Kev. When Archer sighed, he added, “What? Nobody’s ever fought for me before.”

  “I didn’t fight for you, asshole,” said Archer. He didn’t look at his throbbing hand, but he tried to shake it by his side inconspicuously. They passed a couple of demons doing something rude to each other with half-full alcohol bottles. “That demon was after me, too.”

  “Still hot.” Kev paused, led them down a street to the left. “How’s your hand?”

  “Screw you.” Archer didn’t want to talk about it. They pushed through gyrating crowds, neither of them interested in stopping any longer. Just when he thought Kev had gone quiet for good, the demon spoke up again.

  “How’s your brother?”

  “Fine,” said Archer. Ryan wasn’t fine, not really, but he didn’t want to share with Kev, not when he was starting to worry he was closer to the demon than he’d been when they’d started. If he gave the demon any more, he’d feel bad leaving Hell. “The fuck you got your ass dragged down here for anyway?”

  “Oh, I got taken in,” said Kev. He sounded almost amused by it. “My girlfriend was into this religious guy, we both sort of…sold our souls without realizing it. I guess he was a demon. One car crash later, and here I am.”

  “What happened to her?”

  “Out in the fields somewhere. She didn’t want to be a demon.” Kev raised a hand, pointed. “It’ll be just around that corner.”

  “And you’re okay with her being there?” asked Archer.

  “Well, no,” said Kev, shrugging. “But it’s her choice. She’s still processing she’s in Hell, really. And I don’t think we really loved each other. You know how that goes?”

  “Yeah,” said Archer. He debated how much to say, gave in. “Lost my boyfriend when I came out. He didn’t hate me, just…didn’t love me either, I guess. Is that it?”

  Down the end of this street a tall, almost modern-looking building sat. It was silver-red metal like liquid fire and dark glass like the obsidian Archer had impaled Kev on. As they approached, Archer saw a blinking light next to the door that looked like tech from Earth. It struck him then he hadn’t put the keycard Kev said he had in his belt. He checked the pouch with the spell book, not finding anything else there, but when he looked up, Kev had a bit of plastic in his still-cuffed hand.

  “Almost there.” Kev glanced around, but no one was paying attention to them, and thankfully Ira hadn’t followed. Kev swiped the card, waited for the light to flash. “And…in.”

  Archer followed, thinking about how the card reader had blinked red instead of green, then paused as they entered a clean, shiny foyer tiled in black marble.

  “Where were you keeping that?” he asked.

  Kev grinned.

  “Never mind,” said Archer. He didn’t think he wanted to know, anyway. “Which way?”

  “I’ve never actually gone past soul drop off,” said Kev, indicating a now-closed counter. “But I’d guess this way.”

  He pointed to a doorway leading to a darkened hallway. It figured. Archer took a breath.

  “Let’s go then,” he said.

  Kev led the way.

  * * * *

  Kev hadn’t been in the First Bank of Hell in weeks. He could barely remember the last soul he’d taken, although trying to place it made him think about Archer’s blood again. That’s what they were here for, anyway—the vial of Archer’s blood containing his soul. How delicious that would be…Kev pulled himself into the present, focused. He liked Archer for more than his blood.

  Even if he could smell it from the split skin on Archer’s hand. But Archer wasn’t acting like it was a big deal, so Kev did his best to ignore.

  “The building is not this big,” said Archer as they made their way down the hallway and past unlabeled doors. “I know, I know—it’s Hell.”

  Kev shrugged, used h
is keycard on the door to the stairwell. It flashed green and declined. He blew on it, turned, held it out questioningly.

  “Fine,” said Archer.

  Kev rubbed the magnetic strip on Archer’s boxers and tried the keycard again. Green light. He tried it more slowly, same result, then faster. The door remained locked. Kev wasn’t surprised, really, that his card only gave him access to the one place he was supposed to be. But Ira had just gotten a promotion after collecting Archer’s soul, and Kev had swiped the demon’s new clearance card after the fight. He pulled it out.

  “Seriously, where are you getting these from?” asked Archer.

  “I took this off of Ira. He just got a promotion.” Kev ran the card and opened the door at the red light. “Hopefully it’ll get us to storage.”

  They entered into the stairwell and Kev considered, then chose the steps downward. He was reasonably certain administration was up and storage would be down. The stairs seemed to go down endlessly with no other doors.

  “You and your girlfriend still together?” asked Archer after a while.

  Kev snorted. “No.”

  “I guess you really do see who stands by you when shit goes down.” Archer paused. “My brother’s girlfriend wants to see him but my parents won’t let her.”

  “Why? What happened?” asked Kev. Archer seemed on the verge of telling him just how he’d lost his soul and Kev craved the knowledge more than he craved Archer’s blood. He had this need to learn whatever he could about Archer, and he didn’t care where it was coming from.

  “They blame her.” Archer paused again, but when he continued, everything seemed to spill out of him, like he’d reached the point where he didn’t feel the need to hold back and he wanted to unload it all. “She was there with him. Well, not when he crashed—before, at the party. They were out drinking. My brother tried driving home in the middle of the night.”

  “Shit,” said Kev.

  “It was an accident, everyone says it’s his fault, but fuck, Kev, Ryan’s only seventeen.” Archer swallowed so hard Kev could hear it, and when he spoke again his voice was much quieter, lower. “I couldn’t let my little brother die. I was desperate. I guess I didn’t take it completely seriously until Ira showed up, and then…”