Direct from Hell Logistics - Ineadhyn (2024)

Chapter 1: Toothbrush

Chapter Text

Raphael awoke with a headache from hell. He groaned and pressed his palm against his throbbing forehead. Again he's had the strangest dream. Raphael was used to having strange dreams. Beasts and fire often played a part in them. Some were more or less sexual in the weirdest way possible. Once, he remembered, there had been something about a group of people turning into fish? Or sperm? Or the other way round? Whatever. Today he'd dreamed about being a monster: Three heads, gnawing massive teeth. It had felt so real he still could almost feel his tail itching and his wings flapping. Gnawing teeth? Maybe that's why his jaw hurt. Perhaps he should make a dentist's appointment. Wait.

What is a dentist? No. He knew what a dentist was! Surely! It had just slipped his mind. It was impossible to focus with that horrible beeping sound in his ears.

Raphael groaned once more and sat up. By doing so a newspaper fell off his chest and some empty bags of chips made a rustling sound as he searched for the origin of the noise. A flat black box flashed in between more trash piles. It said “work”.

It's a phone. My phone. And I need to go to work. The dream had really gotten him off track. Strange dreams, memory loss regarding the most trivial things … Good that he had a therapy appointment just this evening.

Absent-mindedly Raphael got ready for the day. He found his clothes in a messy pile on the floor. He once had a wardrobe - one of the few items he never struggled to use - but since the clothes rail broke, it was out of order. He just didn't earn enough as a delivery man to get a new one and he also lacked the energy to get it fixed. Once Raphael was dressed, he checked the note on his bathroom mirror that listed the things he always forgot:

• brush teeth

Check. Wasn't it weird to put a small vibrating stick into ones mouth to keep it clean?

• deodorant

He quickly applied it. It had taken him ages to find one that even vaguely smelled like cherries. Why he had wanted that, Raphael had no clue.

• Go to the toilet

Oh, yes, that was the pressing feeling in his guts. Kind of humiliating to be bound to a porcelain chair multiple times a day. He browsed through the pages of one of his many books whilst he sat there. Books never made him feel uneasy. Books were good. Even if their contents were strange. Well, he'd read a whole book about eels once. Little compared to that. Raphael had books about everything laying around. About wizards and conspiracy theories, about romance and cooking (he had never cooked a single meal). He took whatever he found in public bookshelves.

Despite Raphael having brushed off the church people that came knocking at his door, he found himself weirdly drawn to the bible. There were a lot of stories about demons and devils in there. He especially liked the story about the devil who tempted Jesus in the desert, despite thinking this one was a bungler. He would have done a much better job. It was so obvious where the holy man had his sore spots and it would have been so easy to wound him there. Instead this fool went on talking about food and earthly possessions. (Raphael also liked the crucifixion and the flaying. He sometimes read it before going to sleep.)

When he was ready and about to leave the house, Raphael stumbled right into old Mrs. Millers loitering on his doorstep. She was a noisy little woman always nagging about keeping the stairs clean. Hastily Raphael tried to close the front door, but it was too late, she’d already taken a peek inside. To his misfortune Mrs. Millers was also his landlady.

“This is enough now, young man!” She complained. “I saw exactly what a pigsty you have in there. I warned you. I warned you last week that this is the last notice.”

“Mrs. Millers, I am cleaning up, I really am. It’s not my fault.”

“How exactly is you demolishing my house, not your fault?”

“I just- I-” He dared not to explain it. He had made that mistake before. It was just that the items he carried seemed to drop around him when they should sort themselves out instead. He intended to set them away, tidied up, but there seemed to be a missing link between releasing something and it appearing where it should be. Maybe he should really get tested for ADHD as his therapist had suggested.

“See? I was so generous with you, young man, but enough is enough. You are leaving this house until the end of the week!”

Evicting him? Him, Raphael? How dare she! He would- Then he remembered who he was and pure dread flooded his guts.

“No! I have nowhere to go. Please -”

“I wish there was another solution.” Raphael could hear the lie in her voice. She wished for nothing, except to make his life worse. Again Raphael felt fury rise in him like hellfire and again it got drowned by fear. Where should he go? There was no way he’d find another room till the end of the week. He had no friends. No family. He was vaguely aware that his father was still alive, but he couldn’t even remember his face or where he lived. All he had was his job and compared to his supervisor this hag of a landlady was a gentle old lady. There must be something he could do! He just didn’t have a single clue what.

The beeping on his phone reminded him that, if he didn’t leave now, he would lose this last straw as well. And he needed the money desperately. Raphael shot the old lady another angry look and some poetic curses and turned around to storm out of the house. At least intended to do so. This was another thing that occasionally happened to him. Whilst walking was fine, running was a whole different matter. When he intended to go somewhere quickly, he felt the need to move his shoulder blades instead of his legs. As he stumbled, he wanted to balance himself using a … tail - embarrassing as it was. Obviously it didn’t work and Raphael made his way down the stairs in a pile of limbs. It felt like he was missing parts of himself. Only that didn’t make any sense. Raphael collected himself on the bottom of the stairs and for a moment found himself disappointed he didn’t at least die dramatically. Instead only his arm hurt. For a moment he pressed his face into his palms and fought the urge to cry. At the same time he wanted to scream and set the whole building with everyone in it on fire. With Mrs. Miller and the upstairs neighbors who always stomped on their floors like a band of orthons. What is an orthon? Raphael got stuck on the thought, then decided he must have read the word somewhere. Why didn’t he remember? What was he even doing here? His breath quickened.

Calm yourself, Raphael, and breathe. Count to ten.

It was a strategy his therapist had taught him. It seemed to work. Slowly he collected himself and stood up. He knew who he was: His name was Raphael and he was an ordinary human with a perfectly normal life. He had some issues, true, but he was working on them. Everything was in perfect order. And now he should better run - or more like walk very quickly. Else Mr. Halep would be quick to punish him for being late.

Chapter 2: Bathrobe

Chapter Text

He stumbled into the dressing room at work barely on time. Luckily his supervisor was busy talking to the customers at the front desk or else Raphael would have at least earned a displeased look and a harsh comment. Raphael fumbled at the lock to his locker. His combination had been 666 since before he started. That was another weird thing about him. The number of the beast seemed to haunt him. It was everywhere: License plates, calorie counts and phone numbers.

As he struggled into his yellow work pants he heard the heavy steps of his supervisor approach. Of course. The man never let anything slip. Raphael closed the zipper then turned around. He was in his fine-ribbed undershirt and he hated that his supervisor had caught him in such an undignifying attire. The man gave his chest a quick look and raised the corner of his mouth. Mr. Halep was a big middle aged turkish guy, bulky and slightly overweight. His fading hairline was shaved to stubble, but he sported bushy eyebrows and a short beard to make up for it. His eyes were black and Raphael was sure the only light in them was the burning of spite. Still, Raphael had to be grateful. Mr. Halep had been the only one willing to hire someone without reference, experience and severe memory loss. Not to mention the anger issues. Because of that Raphael kept his head down and pressed a “Good morning” through his teeth.

“I would wish you the same, Raphael, could I say this is a good morning.” Raphael watched attentively as Mr. Halep leaned against the wall and crossed his arms. “You are late.”

Quickly Raphael checked on his watch: 6:66 am. Of course. He groaned internally and decided to push his luck. He could have sworn he entered the building at 7am sharp.

“I was here on time”, he defended himself. “You saw me come in.”

“Yes I did. Do you think it's enough to arrive on time? Do you think I keep you for changing and chatting?”

What? Halep just decided it didn’t count as working when he decided to chat him up? It was not like Raphael could tell him to shut up. As much as he'd like to. If he only didn’t need to pay bills. If only he hadn’t been evicted just this morning …

“I will come in earlier from now on”, Raphael managed to answer.

“I hope so.”

Mr. Halep then instructed him for the day and offered Raphael the car keys - only to pull away as he reached for them. At this point Raphael was close to screaming. Pure existential dread was the only thing that kept him silent.

“How's your therapy going?” Halep asked. Raphael had exposed his sessions in a weak moment when he had insulted a customer and helplessly tried to assure his boss that he was working on his issues and that it wouldn't happen again.

“Good, I guess.”

“I see you are trying, Raphael. That's why I gave you a chance. You'll just have to try a bit harder from now on…” Halep let his arms sink down and gifted him a poisoned smile. “You can do that, can you?”

Silenced by the prospect of being both homeless and jobless, Raphael nodded.

“Good.” For a moment Raphael thought he would touch him. Flick his chin, stroke his cheek or something similar. And for some reason the thought didn't feel strange - the contrary even: It felt devastatingly familiar. His supervisor touching his face would be perfectly fitting. It felt as if all the things that confused him day by day would fall into place if only he’d go through with it.

The moment passed and Raphael was left deeply ashamed of himself.

“What are you waiting for?” Halep asked. “Scurry! The post is not delivering itself.”

As Raphael took place behind the steering wheel, the car stuffed with packages to deliver, he'd managed to push aways what had just happened. Mr. Halep hated him and loved to push him around. Raphael depended on his goodwill and he was desperate. That was all. The weird feeling of knowing them - him - must be another trick of his mind. And his mind was not reliable even on his good days.

For example, right now: Raphael turned the car key and for a moment he had no clue what he was doing anymore. If asked what a car was, he wouldn't have been able to answer. Raphael took a deep breath, thought about something entirely else and tried again. He had a driver's license. The picture on it didn't really look like him, but he must have passed a test at some point. He was able to drive - if he didn't think too much about it.

Raphael put on some music and instantly felt better. Supported by his favorite playlist he managed to get on the road. It was a slow morning, frosty and boring. Boring was the best that could happen today. For a while he found peace. Delivering packages was a job he was good at. He brought the people what they desired, wasn't that nice? Only, he sometimes thought he should get something in return. Not the few coins on his bank account, something … greater.

Raphael found himself humming along the music, making his way from house to house. He delivered orders of all kinds: clothes and toys, books and appliances - The usual things. Every once in a while he caught a glimpse of some of the stranger things people ordered: A bag of fish. A carpet that almost crushed him as he tried to carry it to the door. A hammer shaped package that somehow made him feel excited. Raphael made his work more entertaining by handing out the packages accompanied with little rhymes, even though most people would then stare at him in bewilderment. He just tipped his red cap, smiled and went on his way.

The only downside to his job was when people got mad at him for mistakes he was not responsible for.

“No, I can't call Amazon and ask them where your order is. That is what your shipment id is for.”

“Are you telling me what to do?”

“Ye- No, I legally can't help you if the retailer doesn't provide. I'm just a delivery man.”

(Inaudible)

“No, I don't work for Amazon. We're a delivery company. We only deliver.”

(Inaudible)

“Yes, I am sure it's not stuck in the trunk. No, you can't check. No! Please don’t open the latch! Please don’t call the office either. Fine, I'll check again.”

It was way past noon when he reached the final house for today. His stomach hurt and he’d just realized that it might be, because he hadn’t eaten anything all day. Body signals truly were so confusing. Why does one's head hurt when you’re sick, tired, overwhelmed or dehydrated? Amongst like ten other reasons. How are you supposed to figure out what you need?

Raphael grabbed the water bottle from the passenger seat. At least the dehydration thing was not going to happen to him again. It turned out that it has really unpleasant effects to forget drinking for two days straight. Still, he needed to solve the hunger problem. Sometimes he wished for a permanent solution. There was just so much work involved to feed this body. Shopping and … actually eating. He knew other people did cook and prepare meals only to create more work for themselves, when the dishes needed to be cleaned. Raphael had recently discovered paper plates and never looked back. Anyways. He stopped the car and checked the address on his tablet. Then he jumped out of the car, grabbed the last remaining package from the trunk and walked up the stairs. It was a nice house, big and white with a golden doorknob. He has been here before. A couple and their dog lived there. He rang the doorbell. He had heard other delivery drivers would just drop the packages and didn’t even ring. Not Raphael, though. Showing up at people's doorsteps was something he was quite confident with.

He rang again. The intercom answered: “Just a moment. I'm in the shower.”

The woman's voice was cheerful, so Raphael waited patiently until the door opened just enough so he could see the shape of a petite woman in a low-cut bathrobe appearing in the frame.

“Oh, if it isn't my delivery. Raphael, isn't it?”

He had absolutely no clue how she knew his first name, but nodded anyways. The woman stepped a bit closer. Sun kissed her blonde hair. It was half braided and not at all wet.

“I tell you a secret”, she said, leaning forward which caused her bathrobe to open further. “You're my favorite. Don't you have a little limerick for me as usual?”

Raphael found himself slightly distracted by the round shape of her boobs under the silk that had appeared so suddenly under his nose. “Not today, I’m afraid.”

“Oh, but it's really cold outside, isn't it? Would you like to come in and get a coffee? My husband isn't home.”

Something clicked in his mind and Raphael stepped back. This whor* was offering herself to him? As if he would sleep with a customer. Never. That's what he had H- At least he couldn't remember ever doing that.

“No thank you, I'm on the job. Would you like to accept your package now?”

“Oh, yes, of course.” The woman took it and set it aside.

“I need your signature here.”

Oh, he loved it when they gave their signature. The woman took the pen out of his hand, touching it deliberately and granting him another generous look into her cleavage. When she was done, she looked up to him through her lashes.

“You have the most beautiful eyes”, she muttered. “And this voice …”

Raphael held out a hand to get the pen back.

“Are you sure you don't want to come in?”

Impudent slu*t! Something in Raphael snapped. He slapped her daring little hand away and grabbed her by the throat. “What exactly do you think you're doing, little mouse?”

He looked at her, eyes narrow and brows furrowed. The next moment he realized what he was doing. And the moment after that she moaned. Their eyes locked and Raphael felt that very quietly an agreement was made. He retracted his fingers one by one and let go of her. Her face was flushed pink. His heart thrummed with fear - and excitement.

“Listen, dear. Let's make a deal: You don't call my boss. And your husband will never hear about this.”

The woman nodded in agreement, grabbed her disarranged bathrobe and fled into the safety of her house. The door closed, Raphael retreated to his car.

That … had felt good. Even though it absolutely shouldn't.

Chapter 3: Shower gel

Chapter Text

Raphael grabbed two hotdogs on his way home and by doing so successfully pushed the hunger problem to the future. A proven strategy.

He unlocked his apartment door and waded through the chaos towards the couch. He got rid of most of his clothes, dropped down on it and stared into nothing for a few minutes. Then he grabbed his phone and started scrolling through Reddit. Nothing there really caught his attention, but it did its job to empty his mind of every necessary thought and filled it with a stream of blissful meaningless content.

He stayed like that for about an hour then felt cold and granted his surroundings some of his attention. Downstairs he'd found the official eviction notice in his postbox that flowed over with old newspapers and even older bills for things he did not remember ever subscribing to. Hopefully they would just not find him anymore once he was out of here. On that note: He should probably try and clean up to not leave an absolute mess and get charged for it.

The problem started with finding a trash bag. Apparently he never had bought any. That led to a quick downward spiral which ended with him sitting down again starting a round of online chess. He had discovered a dusty book containing the rules deep in the back of his broken down wardrobe and found it intriguing. A bit confusing, too, because he thought he remembered how to play, but in a slightly different way. Still in the end he started playing online and now it was one of his favorite pastimes. He had destroyed two other players and lost to an AI as his alarm reminded him about his therapy session. He managed to stuff two bags that had once contained take-out with the trash and put them in the bin on his way out.

Raphael didn’t own a car and Mr. Halep would flay him alive if he’d dare to ask to use the company's, so he walked. His one headphone had a loose connection so every few steps the music in his ears got disrupted. It was the evening now and the sky changed to a darker shade of blue as the streetlights turned on. Raphael pulled his gray coat tighter and tried to bury his nose into his thin wool scarf. It was almost as cold as - the word fell out of his mind just as his thoughts reached it. A familiar feeling. Raphael seemed to notice a lot more homeless people than usual on the streets, nestled in between newspapers and old sleeping bags. One of their dogs barked at him as he went past. This couldn’t be his fate, could it? He still had his job, he earned enough money to rent a room for as long as it took to find a new apartment, right? Still he couldn’t take his eyes off these people. So many lost souls … Someone should come and … collect them. It would be too easy. Suddenly he found himself in front of a red door with a golden handle and a neat sign that said: L. Eden, certified therapist, PHD.

Raphael raised his hand and rang the bell. He was let in just a minute later and made his way to the top floor. Miss Eden’s office was seated directly under the roof. Apparently she was still with another client, so Raphael sat down on one of the chairs in the hallway to wait. He took out his phone and tried playing a game, but found himself at a point where it urged him to pay to continue - or to wait several days until his coin stash refilled. Angry to be tempted by such obvious fraud he pushed the phone back into his pocket and listened. Muffled sounds were audible through the office door. Someone crying? When the door finally swung open a trembling figure rushed past him. The therapist invited Raphael in and took place on her desk, legs dangling. The room smelled faintly of cinnamon.

Lilith Eden had picked Raphael up when she saw him having a breakdown in aisle three. She said she normally wouldn’t do this, but gave him her card anyway. He had briskly explained his situation and seen her interest peak when he mentioned the memory loss. The doctor was young, perhaps in her early thirties with the body of someone who hit the gym regularly. She also was not afraid to show that and always wore black skin-tight clothes, just proper enough to fit her profession. She had a heart shaped face with a pointed nose and her hair was jet black and always tied into a neat bun, but Raphael imagined it would fall down to her hips when loose. Not that he’d ever indulge in such thoughts. He was grateful for what she offered to him and kept his head down as he took place on the sofa across from her. The room was small with angled walls because of the roof above it, but quite cozy. One of the walls was painted red and featured dark paintings on which shapeless figures floated, surrounded by flames.

“Raphael, how have you been this week?”

They’d agreed on using his first name after his surname had fallen from his memory for the tenth time. It just felt as if it wasn’t his. As if it belonged to a different man - just like about half of his life.

“Fine.”

“Come on, dear. This is not how it goes. Give me something to work with.”

Raphael sighed under his breath. “Fine. Let me recall: I fell down the stairs, because I forgot about running, I was almost late to work and my supervisor bullied me, I forgot how to drive and did it anyway, a client almost jumped into my truck and another one tried to f*ck me. Oh, and did I mention? I got evicted.”

Miss Eden tilted her head slightly. “Sounds like an eventful week. What do you -”

“This was only today!”

Miss Eden blinked and if it wouldn’t have been so misplaced, Raphael could have sworn she suppressed a grin. She lifted herself off the desk and moved over to her usual chair, where she stored her glasses. She put them on, sat down and grabbed a notebook close by.

“I see you go through a lot, Raphael”, she said, her voice all calm. “What do you want to discuss first?”

“I - I don’t know.” Suddenly defeated, Raphael buried his face in his hands.

“So, you say the memory loss is unchanged.”

“Yes. No. I am not sure.”

Miss Eden waited attentively.

Raphael took a breath. “This week I seem to have a lot of moments that throw me off the tracks. Moments when I think I remember something - but none of it makes sense.”

“Do you have an example?”

“It’s things that can’t be real memories, but they feel like it. I mean, what even is an orthon? And I am pretty sure I have never had a tail or wings.”

Miss Eden made a note. “Do any of these moments happen when you interact with people?”

“Yes, they do.” He quickly told her about the incident with the bathrobe.

“So you are saying you didn’t take her offer. Were you not tempted at all?”

“No. I don’t lower myself for a mort- a whor*.”

Miss Eden scribbled, then she asked: “Do you have strong opinions about sexworkers?” Something in her face told Raphael to better be careful with his answer. “No - I mean, it’s just a saying, isn’t it?”

“I guess it is …” The therapist reclined and Raphael felt a sudden fear rush through him. As if a promise had been made its contents he didn’t understand.

“So you don’t feel attraction towards any person?”

“I guess not, except - No, this is too silly.”

“This is a safe space.”

“Well then …” Raphael inhaled and avoided his therapist's eyes. The hungry look in them made him uneasy. But he had to trust her, didn’t he? Who else could he talk to? “It’s my supervisor. This morning I had a feeling he might touch me and - He is the worst, always bullying me and pushing me around and not attractive in the slightest - but the thought didn’t feel wrong. It felt like …” His voice was very quiet now. “It felt like it would fix me.”

He could feel Miss Eden leaning in. He heard the sound that her leather pants made on the plastic chair. And for a small moment he imagined her to place a hand on his shoulder. I am going insane! Obviously nothing happened, just the air felt a bit heavier. A bit warmer.

“Many people fantasize about sex with people in a power position. Letting go of responsibility can be quite a relief.”

Her words were all professional and she spinned the pen between her fingers as she spoke. Why did it still feel like Raphael was trapped in a cage with a big cat?

“No! No it’s not like that. I would never want something with him. You misunderstood.”

“If you say so.” She made another note. “We better talk about your eviction then. What are you planning to do?”

When Raphael arrived home, nothing greeted him except darkness and perhaps a spider that sat somewhere in a corner. The cold light flickered as he turned it on. He shedded his coat and pants right where he stood. Time to get a bit comfortable at last.

He made his way into the kitchen and found the fridge empty except for one shriveled carrot and a flask of hot sauce which had fallen over and spilled its contents. Raphael closed the door and instead pulled a dusty wine bottle out of the rack next to it. He didn’t remember buying any of those. Still, wine was wine. He couldn’t find a clean glass so he just took a sip directly from the bottle. Then he stood there, leaning on the counter in his shirt and underwear, occasionally drinking more wine, thinking about everything he needed to do to get his life in order.

If his brain just would work normally it probably would be manageable, but it just didn’t cope and it was only getting worse. Still, he needed to pull himself together. You just have to try a little harder. He sighed and decided on one thing that he’d manage to get done today: Taking a shower. He took another sip then pulled away from the counter and made his way into the bathroom, leaving a trail of clothes.

The room itself was incredibly small and barely fit the sink, the toilet and the shower. Where he himself was supposed to go made him wonder on a regular basis. He stepped into the small corner with the curtain in an unattractive beige and let the water run until it was steaming hot. Raphael stepped under the shower head and as the water hit his face, he let out a small moan of pleasure. He had barely enough space to turn around, but hells did it feel good to wash this horrible day away. If only it wouldn’t return tomorrow.

Raphael reached for the shower gel and, of course, it slipped through his hands on the first try so he had to bend over to get it. Undignifying . He came back up, the bottle in his hand. A scent of cherries filled the steamy room as he opened it. It was better than he’d expected. Not nauseatingly artificial, but more sweet and decadent, maybe with a touch of cinnamon. He closed his eyes and for a moment imagined a luxurious pool, hot refreshing water, the same scent and … What is Mr Halep doing there? Raphael opened his eyes and confronted himself with the harsh reality of the olive tiles to ground himself. Sadly with that came the realization that his hand had wandered to his half hardened co*ck. It was not even a sexual scene he had imagined, just a sudden image of his supervisor's bearded face. The devilish grin and the tilt of his head - The tilt of her head. Lilith Eden. Something started burning inside of him, some kind of embers, covered by ash and long forgotten, but still glowing. It was as if a breeze had rekindled tiny flames.

He could …

Hesitantly he circled his tip with his thumb and shuddered in response. His body had been nothing but a burden for the longest time. And as a punishment he had neglected it. Pleasure had not even been an afterthought and now - It still was not exactly pleasure that he seeked. It was a need and it burned to be sated. He closed his soapy fist around his shaft and stroked up and down a few times whilst growing harder. Then he found himself a bit overwhelmed. He could not remember ever doing that to himself. It rather should be done to him, but that was an even stranger thought. He already wanted to give up, but his co*ck in his hand throbbed and demanded attention. So he continued, a bit aimlessly. He lacked inspiration, but what on earth could he think about?

Lilith Eden’s thighs in leather pants rubbing over the chair. The curve of her soft tit* showing under the stretched fabric of her top. Hells, no! He could not do this to his therapist. He would not be able to look her into the eyes again. She would notice and kick him out. Her black hair falling out of her bun as she sits on top of him, her thighs around his waist.

He groaned, muffled by the clench of his teeth. Precum mixed with the soap on his fist. Maybe it was okay, maybe he could think about this if it was necessary to come? He would just be quick and forget it afterwards. Like he forgot everything, right? Raphael pressed one hand against the shower wall and looked down on his own co*ck, wet and hard and wanting. His need burned him from the inside out. Watching himself was good, but it was not enough. He tried to go back to the fantasy of his therapist, but her face didn’t want to stay. Instead it switched and flickered into Mr. Halep’s as if both of them were interchangeable. Her toned figure turned into the hairy chest and the round belly of his supervisor pressing against himself. f*ck it, f*ck all that. He was ready to stop caring, his org*sm already building up and not to be stopped now.

And what if I think about them? What if I want them to touch my cheek, cup my face, kiss me and - His hand moved faster, he was taut like a bow string. Just a bit more … - take me into their hot and fanged mouth like a thousand times before - He spilled over his hand, barely tasting the release as a gush of cold water poured out over him and drowned his last fantasy.

“Aaaargh!”

Quickly and half blind he reached for the knob to stop the ice cold rain, then he stood there, soaking wet and shivering, his co*ck still in his hand and only remembering that he had thought about his supervisor after all. He didn’t know which part of all this was the worst.

Chapter 4: Tissue box

Chapter Text

Raphael came in nice and early every day for the rest of the week whilst doing his best to ignore the rising panic in his chest. Today he clocked in at 6:45 am. Alas, of course, Mr. Halep didn't bother to praise. He just unlocked the door to let Raphael in and then left with a wide grin on his face.

Well, at least one of us is having a good day.

It had been a Raphael kind of morning: spilled coffee, forgotten keys and another fight against the stairs. As he finally stepped outside he noticed a woman following him on his way to work. Not the slu*t with the bathrobe at least for as much as he had seen. This one was a lot smaller with curly hair. She only turned the other way as he entered the post building. Raphael watched her as she disappeared behind a corner. She carried a walking stick twice her size for some reason. Weird.

At least now he was temporarily safe in the post office and all he had to do this morning was to guard the front desk, accept packages and stamp them. If it turned out to be a slow day, he might even be able to look for a new apartment on company time.

House hunting was not going well. First, Raphael missed some important documents that he just seemed to never have possessed and the pure thought of obtaining them overwhelmed him. Second, he lived off minimum wage and third, apparently all his furniture wasn't his, but Mrs. Millers. Though at this point he would happily do with an empty room. Just a roof over his head and four walls would do, though even that seemed to be wishful thinking. He found rooms with three walls and a balcony on the inside, rooms with a shower in the kitchen and was offered rooms without heating that he had never heard back from. He also found rooms to be shared with older men who wanted “female company” and such who “preferred female company, but you look like a nice lad.” He was not desperate enough to call them back. Yet.

Raphael sighed, changed into his yellow suit and unlocked the door for customers. Then he started his shift by going through some papers. After he was done and because he had nothing else to do, he sorted all the pens on the desk by size and color. Funny how he was perfectly capable of being neat and organized if it wasn’t his home. Idly Raphael looked through the drawers to refill the ink cartridge in one of the fountain pens as he stumbled upon Mr. Halep’s notebook. Raphael remembered his supervisor looking for it just yesterday. Curious, he picked it up. It was nice, red and leather bound and Raphael was very tempted to take a look. He checked the room and the front door, but he was still alone. Sneakily he let his finger slip in between the pages and took a peak.

It was empty.

Why would his supervisor go looking for a book with absolutely nothing in it? Raphael flipped through the pages and found it not as untouched as at the first glimpse. Every now and then Mr. Halep had scribbled little demon faces in the corners. They were exceptionally ugly and Raphael shook his head in disapproval. There was definitely no artist hiding in his supervisor. He had almost reached the end of the book as a sudden shift in artistry caught his eye. This was an entirely different display of skills, but drawn with the same pen still and - could it be - by the same hand. Also, the contents …

Raphael blushed as his eyes followed the elegant lines of female legs, spread to make room for the devil between them. This one was only visible from the back, but it was enough to make his skin crawl. The lean and tender muscles on their back, the ridges on their side. Raphael flipped another page and - This couldn’t be, not his face, distorted by pleasure, his mouth opened to cry for release, not his body -

The doorbell rang and hastily Raphael shoved the book back into the drawer. With a reddened face he looked up, praying it was not his supervisor that had come back early. Relieved he saw that it was only a young woman holding a package who approached the desk.

He straightened his back and put on his customer service voice: “Good morning. How can I help you?”

“I reveived this package with the wrong address.”

“Oh? Well, it's nice that you brought it back, I'll just -”

He hadn't even finished speaking when two more people entered the office and the phone started ringing.

“I am gonna take it back, thank you. Excuse me.” Raphael picked up the phone and quickly removed it a few inches from his ear. Still he was able to hear the person on the other end very loud and clear.

“Mam, could you please tell me what happened?”

She responded angrily.

“I am terribly sorry - Yes, yes that was us. I don't know how-”

Raphael squinted as if it would dampen the noise of her screaming.

“No, the manager is currently not available. Again, I am terribly sorry, we are doing our best to clear that up. Yes.”

The shouting got a bit muffled because Raphael put his hand over the speaker.

“I can't tell you yet. I will call you back. Good day.”

He pushed the red button before the woman could start screaming again, but as he looked up he found himself standing in front of a whole horde of angry customers. Teeth gritting and arms waving, they all leaned over his desk and started complaining: “Where is my package?” “Who-?” “The address is all wrong!!” “Are you-?” “- manager.”

Raphael stared into their faces, their voices blurring into a collective growl. He had seen a zombie movie once and found it rather boring, but now panic crawled up his chest. Packages got shoved across the desk and he did his best to try and grab them before they fell and took damage.

“I am so sorry. Yes, swapped addresses, I heard. No, I don't know how it happened. My manager- Thank you. He's currently -”

Raphael had to jump out of reach as an especially angry old woman lashed at him with her purse. His eyes shot around, looking for an exit, because he could already feel his blood burning in his veins. Anxiety and anger were a dangerous mixture.

“Could you please form a queue?”

He tried, but it was pointless. The angry mob was beyond reason. All Raphael could do was to take the packages, store them behind the counter and hastily scribble down the names of the customers in Mr. Halep's notebook. Where was his boss when he really needed him? Never ever had he wished to see his bearded face, but now his only burning desire was for him to stroll through the sliding door and take control over the situation.

The phone rang nonstop and Raphael didn't even pick it up anymore. He was fully consumed by the task of explaining to the customers right in front of him that he couldn't explain why the packages went to the wrong houses. Raphael wondered if he had made a mistake and caused this, but could not possibly see how.

The first wave of angry customers ebbed slowly and Raphael was able to wipe the cold sweat off his palms before the telephone demanded his attention again. He picked up and heard someone screaming about towels they didn’t order. Somehow he still found the strength to stay polite. As he had taken her complaints and excused the company for the hundredth time, he looked up and saw a second wave approach the building. With blank fear he stared out of the window. His body started trembling. His hand moved without his will and hit the button that locked the sliding door.

In a mechanical move Raphael tore a page out of the notebook, scribbled down that the company was aware of the error and actively looking for solutions, pinned it to the glass and just hoped nobody would bring a bat.

Then he retreated. He knew he would probably get fired for not putting up with this, but he just was … defeated. He stepped back into the dressing room and dropped into one of the chairs, feeling the customer’s stares still on him, their voices ringing in his ear. He grabbed his water bottle, tried to drink, but just held onto it. This. This was it: The devastating knowledge that he was supposed to deal with whatever the customers threw at him. That he failed to deal with it, no matter how unfair it was. That it was not at all his fault to begin with, but it just would be. The thought caused his lip to quiver.

They would always be right. They could only be right. What had really happened or how he felt about it be damned. His life didn't belong to himself anymore. Had it ever? It was the customer’s, his supervisor’s, his landlady's ... There was no control. It was all just an illusion.

Before he knew, Raphael was crying into his corporate flask.

He didn't know how much time had passed until he heard a key being turned. The sliding door unlocked. Steps approached.

With a mixture of hope and angst Raphael raised his head to see Mr. Halep enter the store. The big man stopped in the doorway, Raphael’s note in his hand, and seemed to take the whole sight in. Then he shook his head.

“Tsk tsk. Is that my Raphael crying?”

He didn't answer. Wasn't even sure he fully understood.

“What could possibly have you so upset?”

Raphael took all his strength to gesture vaguely at the note. Mr. Halep looked at it with peaking interest. Apparently he hadn't read it before.

“Trouble.” Raphael managed to get out. “Angry customers. Swapped addresses.”

“Swapped addresses?” Mr. Halep repeated, slightly confused. Then his expression switched to pure glee. “Oh, that was me.”

“You- ?”

“Yes, I was bored.”

He grinned some more. Then, as a cry escaped Raphael, he came over and patted his shoulder.

“Oh, my poor thing. I'm not going to fire you. It's alright now.” With his other hand he grabbed a box of tissues from the nearby cupboard and slid it over to him.

“It is?”

“It is, as long as you stay with me. You will do that, will you?”

Warmth pulsed from his hand through Raphael's body. He nodded shakily. Where else could he go? He would not find another job.

“Good. Now get yourself together and finish your shift. I'll tend to the mess.”

Mr. Halep ruffled through his hair and left the room. And despite Raphael knowing that all of this was wildly inappropriate, his first instinct had been to lean into the touch.

Chapter 5: Cherry flavored dental floss

Chapter Text

Raphael stood outside the front door in his worn down coat and his thin scarf. It was dark. A cold wind blew and the promise of spring that lingered in the air was still too faint to provide any comfort. And, of course, he had been evicted.

Raphael looked down on the small bag with his belongings on the pavement. It held only necessities and a few things he actually cared for: a phone charger, his toothbrush, a few spare clothes, the cherry shower gel, a chessboard, his diary and the bible. Nothing else was left of his life. Not that it had ever felt like his to begin with, but it had been something .

Raphael picked up the bag and made a few steps down the street. Then he stopped.

Where would he go?

Of course he hadn't been able to find a new apartment just yet. His plan B had been to check into a motel or something, for as long as it would take him to accept the most horrid renting conditions, but when he had checked his bank account he found it empty. Mr. Halep seemingly forgot to pay him this month. Raphael tried to call him multiple times, but his supervisor hadn’t picked up. He pulled himself out of his thoughts long enough to notice his feet had taken up the route to work. It was late in the evening, Mr. Halep would not be there, but Raphael kept going. As long as he stayed in motion he could at least pretend to have a destination.

Raphael found the front door of the post office locked and the windows dark. Only the advertising flashed in yellow over the door.

Of course. Of course .

Raphael bit back tears as desperation set in. He stood in front of the building as if it was the garden of Eden and he'd just been denied entry. Then he made a decision.

Raphael tried to call someone for the last time. Miss Eden, Mr. Halep … No one was available, just as expected.

Raphael didn't possess a key, but he knew the office window was loose. He turned his head to each side to check if anyone was watching, but the street appeared as empty as his life, so he proceeded to walk to the back of the building. He squeezed himself through a gap between overflowing bins and hoped Mr. Halep hadn't installed a surveillance camera in the meantime. He found the window closed, but it did only take a bit of pulling back and forth to get it open. With very little grace Raphael climbed in and closed it behind him.

It was weird to see the place in grayscale. It was so quiet, too. Just the rustling of a mouse in the back broke the silence. At least, it was warmer than outside. What now?

He would sleep here, Raphael decided. Just one night. Tomorrow he could talk to Mr Halep and rent a room and then-

Rising panic threatened to drown his thoughts. He tried to breathe calmly and then distracted himself by focusing on the immediate problems: Looking for a place to sleep that wouldn't be visible from the window front, for a start. It had to be hidden from anyone that could come in. He checked the backroom where the boxes and packages were stored. It had an open doorway to the front room, but at least it was dark and had no windows. He didn't dare to switch on the light, so he set down his bag and looked around with just the little light provided by the streetlights.

A few minutes later Raphael had successfully built a fort out of boxes that would hide him from sight. In the middle he left a small space where he set down his bag and laid out some clothes and cardboard. He looked at his hand’s work with doubt, but it would do. It had to.

He went to the bathroom, brushed his teeth and tried to get comfortable. It was not. Raphael curled up on his side, a crumpled T-shirt under his head and his coat as a blanket. The company's logo on the box right in front of him filled his whole vision.

How had it come this far? When in his life had he taken the wrong turn to end like this?

Sleep came slow that night.

He had just started dreaming as a noise jerked him awake. Startled like a deer in the headlights Raphael laid still and stared into the dark. Voices, both relatively high and unknown to him, sounded from the front room. Steps and giggling followed. Had someone broken in?

Raphael raised his head to peek into the front room. He could make out the shape of a couple, kissing and chatting, seemingly without a care in the world. They were strangers to Raphael, but acted as if they belonged here. Did Mr. Halep have children?

One of the two appeared to be a dark haired woman. He wasn't able to see her face. The guy was taller and thinner than her, the height amplified by black spiked hair. He wore makeup so glittery, it was even visible in the dim light. His dark purple coat fell open and revealed a loose black shirt that said “I'm the devil” in white letters.

Raphael’s heart started pounding as soon as he looked at them. He convinced himself that it was just out of fear they would find him. The man pulled the woman in and whispered in her ear. Her head fell back and he laughed. Her locks cascaded down the back of her pretty dress. Then she leaned in for a kiss. The guy evaded her and instead spun her in an embrace, so he could nip at her neck from behind. The woman's breathing quickened. She pressed her body against his and his hand wandered up her thigh and dipped under the seam of her dress, caressing the skin there in small circles. Again he whispered in her ear and Raphael saw her nod enthusiastically.

Seemingly having gotten what he wanted, the guy's hand dove further between her legs. The woman moaned loudly. At this very moment the package in front of Raphael started to slip. Hastily he reached out to grab it, but whilst doing so he bumped his elbow into another. The whole wall shook now. Raphael pressed down on it to stabilize it, but there was nothing he could do about the other package now. He saw it tip over and watched it tumble down as if in slow motion, praying it would not make a sound hitting the ground. It is a cardboard box, how loud can it possibly be?

Thump.

Please, please be too distracted. They certainly looked like it.

Alas, no luck.

The man immediately perked up and turned in the direction of the backroom. Something about his posture made Raphael press a hand in front of his mouth to suppress the sound of his breathing. Something was … wrong. The woman didn’t notice. With blurry movements she reached out for her lover, only to be held back. The man’s eyes glared into the darkness as if he could see through it, but that was impossible. Still Raphael stayed frozen, trying not to breathe at all and not succeeding. The man fixated on the exact spot where Raphael was hiding. His eyes … They were not human. The irises appeared unnaturally bright, like burning circles of red and yellow.

“Leave”, the man addressed the woman. He didn’t even look at her.

“What? No! We just - I wanted -!”

“Leave.” His tone did not accept resistance.

The woman pulled her dress back into position, but as she grabbed her purse, she hesitated.

“Leave!” He repeated, still staring at the backroom. “And consider yourself lucky.”

Her eyes widened and she followed the order, hastily now. Whilst she hurried out of the door, Raphael knew he had no way of escaping.
The man - or creature? - trailed around the counter slowly, with stalking movements making his way towards the back room.

“I know you are hiding”, he said. “Come out.”

The voice was melodic, almost a sing-sang. And even though Raphael now trembled in fear, there was something about it that sounded sweet to him.

“Come out, come out. My dearest pet … What are you? A mouse?”

The words shot stars through Raphael’s veins and he had no clue why. Still, getting discovered was the last thing he wanted, so he didn’t dare to move a muscle.

The guy chuckled as if he had made a joke and sauntered closer.

“I won't hurt you.”

He stopped right in front of Raphael’s hiding spot and tilted his head slowly. Then he let out a short and deep laugh.

“Well, maybe a little.”

He was so close now, Raphael noticed his scent. It was unpleasant at first, sulfuric, but - There was more: a base note of something sweet and rich, overridden by the spicy aroma of cinnamon. Raphael’s breath deepened against his will. A word sparked in his head: Demon.

The demon bent forward, just a little. Raphael was not sure if they could really see him or just suspected he was there. Maybe they could smell him, his fear. It didn’t matter, because -

“Raphael.”

He felt his arm getting grabbed and himself being pulled up with a force that was beyond natural.

The burning eyes seized his face. “What are you doing here?”

The way they pronounced his name, when everyone else did it wrong … The head tilt. The sketches in the notebook he had found. Something clicked.

“Exactly what you planned for me”, Raphael answered. Anger ignited in his guts. “I am where you wanted me. I had nowhere else to go.” He tried to pull his arm away. “Leave. Me.”

They didn’t let go of him, but their eyes widened for a moment. “What do you know?”

“You are not what you pretend to be. Mr. Halep - He’s you. Or you are him.”

“Good.”

Despite the word, a hint of disappointment swung in the intonation.

Raphael tried to evade them, but realized he was too close to the wall. His head bumped into one of the shelves there. The demon followed his movement, cornering him now.

“And who am I?”

Raphael’s heart raced. He shook his head in desperation. “I don’t know. Some sort of shape shifting demon -”

He broke off. It was apparent that it was not what they had wanted to hear.

“You tried, that’s something. I’ll have you try some more”, they decided and raised a hand to Raphael’s face. He flinched, but they only cupped his cheek. Their skin was warm to the touch, almost hot. Then the hand moved along his jawline, leaving a tingling trail, before it reached his chin. Raphael tried to turn his head away, but his face got caught between their thumb and index finger.

The handsome face they wore smiled suddenly. “It’s a start. Well done.”

Raphael had no clue what he deserved the praise for, only that it made him squirm internally. Don’t handle me like that! Don’t dare - He urged to fight back with every inch of his body, but at the same time he knew he couldn’t and that left him … wanting more of it. Worst of all, Raphael was sure the demon noticed it.

“I wonder …” they mused.

The hand that held Raphael’s arm wandered down until their fingers closed around his wrist. Raphael pulled back, twisting his hand out of their grip. He managed to break free for a moment, then got caught again. Not only by their hand, but their whole body that forced him to retreat until his back hit the shelves. They were so close now, Raphael could feel their hot breath trace his collarbones.

“Naughty”, they commented lazily on his attempt to escape. “Especially when I can feel the blood rushing under your skin and smell your scent. Cherries, hm? Always cherries. And desire.”

“I don’t -”

“Shush! Don’t lie. That’s so very unlike you.”

They left his chin to take half a step back. Raphael could have freed his hand and escaped now. Only his body wouldn’t move. The spot where their fingers had touched him felt empty.

“Ah, the struggle. Oh, don’t look at me like that. I know what you want.”

They put their hand back on his jaw, but now their index wandered up to trace Raphael’s lower lip.

“I don’t -”

All of a sudden the fingers pushed into his mouth.

Raphael bit down.

The demon inhaled sharply and the next instant they were on him, pinning Raphael down against the shelf with their body and before he even grasped what was happening, their mouth pressed on his. Raphael opened up almost against his will, acting on instinct. The demon took over his mouth, their unnaturally hot tongue explored his. They sucked on his lower lip, suddenly biting him back, sharp and painful. The taste of Raphael’s blood mixed with the spicy sweetness of their saliva. Raphael gasped, but it got swallowed by them. They leaned in forcefully, until the back of his head hit the shelves again. Sweetness and warmth trickled through Raphael’s body, leaving him heated and wanting, a peaceful bliss drowning every remnant of fear and worry. He heard the sound he made turn into a moan. The world became hazy. Only one thing mattered: The creature in front of him, against him.

Love. Was this love?

The demon broke the kiss and the feeling vaned, but the burning in Raphael’s loins stayed, as did the fearlessness and a residue of comfort. He was safe.

Raphael’s eyes widened. He put his hands on the demon’s chest, but in the movement he noticed he wasn’t sure if to fight them or just touch them.

“There”, the demon said. “That should help.”

They settled both their hands on his shoulders. Raphael wished they would wander down his chest, over his sides, pull up his shirt perhaps, but the demon just looked at him with an expression of curiosity. Raphael felt the lip they had bitten pulse. It was already swelling up.

“Do you like this shape?” they asked. “Or-” They rolled their neck and the slender body melted in a shiver of sparks. The smell of sulfur intensified as there suddenly stood another figure. A very familiar one.

“- do you prefer Mr. Halep? Is he the man you truly want?”

The eyes had stayed the same as they shifted. The same black orbs with fiery circles that burned their way into Raphael’s. His mouth was dry as he looked at the bulky man that he normally would not find attractive at all.

“I don’t care.”

Just kiss me again, touch me, f*ck me, by the hells!

The demon's eyes lit up. “Careful what you wish for, pet.”

They leaned in for another kiss. Raphael met their lips half-way and delved into the unfamiliar softness and the scratch of the beard against his chin. He closed his eyes. Sweet cinnamon taste filled his mouth again and love. The truest of love.

“Enough for you.” The demon broke the kiss and pushed him back. “I still need you conscious.”

They let their hand linger on his cheek for a bit, watching Raphael lean into it with heavy lidded eyes.

“Even though you’re adorable like this.”

Adorable. Something about being called that felt wrong. Should feel wrong. It should make him angry and not blush.

“Undress.”

“Wha-”

“I am not going to ask again.”

Raphael’s mind came back to him slowly. He realized this was a bargain: He could strip in front of the demon that looked like his supervisor. He could obey. Or risk that they would leave him with all his body aching from need.

Even more heat flushed his cheeks as he grabbed the seam of his knitted sweater and pulled it over his head. Before he could give it more thought, the button down shirt followed. Raphael only now noticed how cold the room was. The only heat radiated from the demon in front of him. Their eyes tracked every inch of his bare upper body and they reached out to touch him, light like a feather, too light, but they seemed fascinated.

“Thin”, they muttered. “So frail, so human .”

Then the pressure of their index increased and they drew a line down his chest to Raphael’s belt. The line of dark hair there formed goosebumps in response.

“Go on.”

Knowing that every movement would be watched, Raphael struggled with his boots and the belt. Eventually he was left in just his slacks. The demon said nothing. Raphael knew what they expected. If only his hands would stop trembling while unbuttoning his pants. He let them slide down his legs.

“Good. Good. Come here.”

Raphael stepped out of the pile of clothes and towards the demon where he got rewarded with their arms pulling him in and a brush of lips against his neck, the trace of their tongue and a nip of their teeth.

Should he?

On an impulse he tilted his head and kissed their skin too. He found it surprisingly soft despite the beard. The demon tipped their head and sighed, their form flickered and for a moment Raphael saw red skin and ridges. Then he got distracted by strong hands gripping his hips, maneuvering him out of the backroom to the front desk.

The demon wore a different shape now, a handsome young man with long black hair, mismatched eyes and pointed ears. Drow.

Raphael bumped against the desk and all the stationary scattered. His legs got pushed open by the demon placing themselves between them. Raphael could feel their erection bumping against him through the layer of clothing still separating them. He stretched to kiss them again, but found their lips closed. Raphael explored the new body and found it lithe and slender, almost skinny. His hips grinded against their co*ck. He wished they would just remove their clothes, too, but he knew he was in no position to bargain. He would get only what they decided to give him.

Their slim fingers followed the lines of his ribs, caressed his sides and waist. Their teeth were buried in his neck, biting and teasing. Raphael welcomed the pain and indulged in it.

“You want more?”

They breathed against his ear, their body pressed flush against him and their fingers played with the seam of his boxers. They lifted their hips just enough to let the hand slide in between them and grab his co*ck, giving it a testing squeeze. Raphael whined. Immediately he bit his tongue so he would never make such a sound again. The demon seemed pleased. They granted his co*ck some more attention, but then retreated.

“Say my name!”

Raphael stared at them with a blank expression, caught by surprise.

“What?”

“Say my name.”

“I don't know it!”

They sighed in return and ripped down his boxers. Raphael’s co*ck sprung out, hard and throbbing.

“So wanting”, they mused. “If you can’t say my name, you should at least beg.”

“No.”

“No?” It sounded like a threat. Suddenly a hint of fear came back to Raphael. To his shame it only made him harder.

They grabbed his shoulders and turned him around, handling him like a puppet. Raphael’s hips hit the edge of the desk. Now he only saw the wall and dancing shadows. That he couldn't see what was happening anymore was the worst. He had to trust touch alone. How vulnerable he felt, naked and exposed. He hated it, but even more he hated how he didn’t want it to stop. He wanted to give in. Raphael struggled until he got held in place by the desk and the body behind him, one arm locked around his chest, holding him upright. The other hand slid down his side, leaving scratch marks with their nails. It burned. They squeezed his ass for a moment. Then they left him and he heard the sound of a drawer opening. His heart skipped a beat.

“What -?”

“Shush, pet.” They were back against him and somehow they had lost their clothes. Raphael didn't question it. His body felt like it was in flames, burning from the inside out in an equally delicious and terrible mixture of lust and humiliation.

“No more control for you.”

They breathed the words into his ear, whilst Raphael could feel the shape of their erection against his ass. Big. Their hand traveled down from his shoulder blades. Raphael writhed as it reached the small of his back. Without warning their other hand got a grip on his hair and pulled him back upright. Sharp pain seared through his scalp and made his eyes tear up.

“What's my name?”

Raphael shook his head, causing himself more pain. To his surprise the fingers loosened their grip on his hair and caressed it for a moment before going back to holding it. Not as violent anymore, but determined. He felt the other hand between his legs, spreading his cheeks. Then he gasped as a cool wet finger traced the entrance of his hole.

“Do better than that.”

They bit his neck and let the tip of their index slide in.

Raphael let out a moan.

“Very well”, they said, satisfied, and went in till their knuckle.

Raphael arched his back. They added a second finger, not meeting much resistance anymore. Raphael’s breath got ragged, his co*ck ached, but it was left without attention. They added a third finger, probably wise, because the co*ck pressing against his side would not fit easily. They worked him until he felt warm and open and ready. Then they stopped.

No. He needed them. He needed them to f*ck him, fill him and give him purpose. The sound that left his lips was close to a cry. This time, he didn't mind how desperate it sounded. He would do it again. He did it again. His body ached for the demon so intensely, he was sure he would die if they left him now.

They pulled him close again, their co*ck slid between his cheeks. But their tip only pressed against his entrance, not entering yet.

Tears built up in Raphael’s eyes. They controlled everything. His body was entirely theirs. He was at their mercy.

In torturous slowness the tip pressed into him. A bit more. Then they stopped again. Raphael didn't dare to move.

“Please …”

“Louder.”

“Please. Please, please, please …”

He cried and pleaded and begged and most of it was nonsense, but none of it mattered.

“You want me?”

They were close, so close.

“I want you. I want everything from you. Take me. Please.”

Their body tensed for a moment, then a shiver ran through them. Raphael knew they changed shape again. He could see the shadow on the wall growing, saw wings and horns spreading from it. And he could feel it, too. He cried out as the co*ck inside him grew, but he had no chance to adapt, because with a guttural growl from behind he got pushed down hard and bent over the desk. His chest hit the wood, one of the pens pierced his cheek and at the same time they thrusted into him. The stretch was barely manageable. It felt like being split in half. Only as they were seated in their entirety he was granted one moment to cope. The shadows of the wings unfolded on the wall across him, a tail flicked in the corner of his eye and claws pierced the skin on his back.

“Don’t worry, you’re mine now.” He heard them say. “And I know what you can take.”

“I … trust you.”

He heard them hiss. Their voice was different now. Somehow smoother and rougher at the same time. Raphael tried turning his head to look at them, but another clawed hand made him hit the desk again, forcing him to stare at Mr. Halep’s cherry flavored dental floss as they started thrusting into him, without any clue about who or even what f*cked him. Their pace was hard and without mercy from the start. Their thrusts hit so deep his vision blurred. But they were right, he could take it. His body moved in response to theirs, his back arching. His co*ck tried to make use of the little friction the desk granted him. It was pointless. If he wanted release, all he could do was to please them. He moaned and cried, whimpered and begged. Vaguely he was aware that he was a mess, sweaty and aching and bleeding from his lip. He was beyond caring now. Every thrust felt like a part of him died and got reborn. The tears on his face felt cathartic.

Their hand reached around him, brushing slightly against his co*ck. It was too much.

He whined. “Please.”

They held him on the very edge of what he could bare. Pain, pleasure, desperation.

“Please what?”

“… Haarlep.”

For a moment it was as if time stood still. Then the hand around his co*ck closed tightly and they started moving again, their pace wilder now, a bit erratic.

With every thrust the name echoed in Raphael’s dazed mind.

Haarlep. Haarlep. Haarlep.

“Haarlep!”

He cried it out as he came with a shudder. What little was left of him fell apart. Haarlep kept going, f*cked him through his org*sm until Raphael heard them groan and felt them twitch as their hot cum filled him.

Raphael moaned, helpless, broken, finally at peace. A few breaths passed and the thrumming of his heart eased. Vaguely he noticed the pen still poking into his cheek. Haarlep stayed inside him for a few moments longer as they collapsed on top of him. Their warm sweaty skin felt so good against his. Their lips caressed his cheek almost like a lover’s.

Pure exhaustion washed over Raphael all of a sudden, causing his eyelids to flutter.

“Rest”, Haarlep ordered. Raphael obeyed. He worried about nothing. Not about still being bent over a desk, not about the cum dripping down his thighs or the demon on top of him. Not about his life. His eyes closed. The last thing he saw was a flash of blue leathery wings closing around him.

Chapter 6: Lavender foot bath

Chapter Text

Haarlep lounged in a recliner, the heat of Avernus gently roasting their skin, their feet soaking in cool lavender water. It had been long since life felt so pleasant. They lifted one of the cucumber slices on their eyes just enough to signal one of the debtors to replace their drink.

Poor lost souls.

After Raphael’s death some of them had left, some died and some, who had been in the House of Hope for too long so they didn’t know what to do with their freedom anymore, stayed. A few of them found it more difficult to adapt to the breaking of their deals than others. In particular the rat debtor still tended to behave like a rodent and currently cowered under Haarlep’s chair.

“Shoo!”

The man scurried. Perhaps someone should transform him permanently. Haarlep thought about it lazily, but then found he was funnier now without the whiskers.

The eternal voyeur approached with a new glass, complete with ice cubes and umbrella. She had been the first Haarlep had taken under their wings. How grateful she was to be allowed to serve them. Haarlep showed her a wide smile, reaching for the glass. The woman bowed, then scurried away hastily.

Little mice, all of them. Raphael has been right about that.

Haarlep let out a small sigh and reclined further, sucking the sweet, refreshing drink through a spiral straw. Eventually they would need to return to Cania, they knew that. Playing the master of the house was a short-lived joy, but they certainly deserved a little break. Before they would go back and put all the delectable bodies Raphael fed them to profitable use. As long as no one missed them, they would just -

Their tail twitched. A strange sensation tugged at their guts, one they hadn’t felt in a few thousand years. Oh no. Not yet!

They tried to resist the call but their insides felt like they got twirled like spaghetti on a fork, so they eventually gave in to the feeling. One moment later Haarlep got sucked through the cold and painful nothingness of a portal and reappeared - several hells further.

Robbed of the recliner they dropped to the ground and hit their ass. Ouch. The cucumber slices fell off their eyes. Luckily at least the drink had survived being summoned. Carefully holding it upright, Haarlep looked around.

Blue icy walls - Cania.

Summoning circle formed by gold inlays in white marble looking floors and fog clouds outside the windows - Mephistar.

Nine foot tall devil looking down on them - sh*t.

“Master Mephistopheles. I- I was just about to -”

“Haarlep!”

A shiver ran down their spine. It was impossible to stand before the Archdevil’s towering figure and not be impressed. His horns were as long as Haarleps whole arm, his skin appeared black and red with scales shimmering on it. His hands ended in sharp claws and one of them held a gigantic wizard's staff. Haarlep got on their feet, bowing hastily, but not too much. “At your service.”

“I know you are!” The devil stepped closer, his brows furrowed. “I hope you are, for your own sake. Where have you been since my insolent son’s demise?”

Haarlep tilted their head, then raised their co*cktail glass. “Vacation?”

“What do you mean vacation ?” The Archdevil’s voice thundered through the room.

“I just thought”, Haarlep responded a bit more carefully, “I could take a little time off before reporting to your highness, which I would have done just shortly. See, the last thousands of years in your son’s service have been quite exhausting.”

“I will show you real exhaustion, incubus!” Mephistopheles still shouted, but his anger already waned. It was an empty threat. He had always had a soft spot for Haarlep.

“May I humbly inquire why you summoned me?” They dared to ask.

“You may.”

The last of the archdevils' sour mood evaporated like one of the mist clouds around his ice tower. “I’ll even tell you. Sit.” He showed Haarlep a small table with intricate chairs. “I require your service again.”

“Oh?” It should probably now be noted that Haarlep had not been bothered to put clothes on since the binding harness had burned away. “Have you had a change of mind?”

“Ha, no. I have no need for an incubus. I need you regarding Raphael.”

“Oh.” Haarlep frowned. “What is it now? He’s dead and I drink to that.” They raised the co*cktail and took a demonstrative sip.

“I resurrected him.”

Haarlep choked on the liquid. “What?” They coughed.

Mephistopheles watched them struggle with his intense burning eyes.

“Why? Don’t you dare put me back into slavery. He is the most annoying bedfellow you can imagine.”

Mephistopheles smiled coldly. “I bet he is … annoying. But he’s also my son, who bit off more than he could chew, and I want to see him punished .”

“Sounds lovely, Mylord. I just don’t know where I come into play. If you plan to chain him to a bedpost, you might actually do him a favor.”

The archdevil leaned back. “See, that’s why. You know him well. Tell me what hurts him, where his sore spots are. And then make a suggestion on what his punishment should be.”

Haarlep thought about their answer for a moment. “His pride”, they began slowly. “He also hates when he’s out of control and things or beings are not behaving according to the laws he set. He’s also quite ambitious -” Haarlep broke off just before they mentioned the Crown of Karsus Raphael had tried to obtain. They would rather not evoke the archdevils' anger again.

Mephistopheles thought about it for a moment, then he revealed his plan: “I want him exiled from the hells. Maybe even from the nearer planes until he remembers how to behave like a devil again.”

“Exiled you say, your highness?” Haarlep found themselves with a vague idea. “Hm … I might just know the place to humble him.” Quickly they elaborated on what they had in mind.

Mephistopheles furrowed his eyebrows. “How come you have a business on this planet?”

“I - I was bored . Everyone needs a hobby.” They co*cked their head, shrugged and took a loudly slurping sip of their co*cktail. Mephistopheles waved and the glass vanished. The archdevil leaned closer, sending a shiver down Haarlep’s spine. “I would like to trust you, Haarlep. But how do I make sure my spawn will truly suffer?”

“Oh this place does all the work by itself.”

“I think I want to be absolutely sure.”

Haarlep felt the trap snapping shut around themselves like a mouse getting caught. Still, they fought back. “There’s certainly better candidates for the job. Less talented ones. All they would need to do is watch. Why not a lemur? They have eyes. Do they?”

“Squirm all you want, Haarlep. Raphael goes to earth and you will accompany him and ensure his agony. You will not tell him who he was or what his purpose is. Nothing about our agreement or his past. You will neither give spoken hints nor write anything down, nor sign it to him. He is to be left in absolute ignorance.”

Mephistopheles waved again and a piece of parchment appeared in a shudder of sparks. Haarlep gulped at the sight. A whole ass contract. They reached for it and started reading, quiet for a moment, until -

“I will not communicate the details of his past or true nature by using any artistic medium, telecommunication or the internet? I will not make a spreadsheet or any other sort of diagram, nor present it to a crowd and hope to be overheard? Why would I do such a thing? The day he perished was the best day of my life!”

Mephistopheles' hand shot forwards and cupped Haarlep’s face so they were forced to look up in the red scorching eyes.

“Because, my beloved incubus”, he said. “You’re still wearing his shape.”

Chapter 7: Shaving cream

Chapter Text

Raphael woke up with an unfamiliar weight on his chest. The sheets his fingers traced were soft and silken, the smell of musk and cinnamon familiar.

“Get off me, Haarlep”, he grumbled and tried to turn on his side to push the incubus off himself.

It did not work.

He opened his eyes. He was not at home. What home even? Instead he found himself in an unfamiliar bed, staring at the round ample tit* of his therapist. Raphael tried to crawl backwards, but was stopped by a firm grip on his shoulder.

“Look who still remembers me. Good morning, pet.”

Raphael stared at her with wide eyes, struggling to make sense of the situation. Not only that he had just woken up, her naked toned body on top of him was fairly distracting and her eyes scorched him in an unsettling way. A way that reminded him of a fort built of packages, a desk and the best sex of his life.

“You!”

They sighed and caressed the little hair on his chest. Raphael squirmed to evade the touch, but it was as pointless as before.

“You were her, too. You … followed me! You made me talk about … everything! You made me trust her and then - Leave me be!”

“No.” They gave the hair a little tug. “I really hoped you'd remember more, but it's something, isn't it?”

“Remember what? And even if I did, I'd surely not tell you! Where am I?”

They moved up his chest but not to leave him. Their thighs clenched him and one of her hands got a hold on his hair.

“I will explain what I can. Later. Now, eat up.”

They sat down on his face.

Raphael tried to protest, but the sounds he made got suffocated in Ms. Eden's folds. No, Haarlep's . That was the demon's name. A tug on his hair and a roll of their hips reminded him of his task. Raphael was really not happy about the whole situation and also not in the mood. His refusal got rewarded with another pull on his hair, painful this time. Reluctantly he opened his mouth.

The taste.

Hot and rich like sweet mulled wine spiced with cinnamon.

Above all Raphael was confused. Getting abducted by a sex demon should freak him out. It didn't. Of course, eating said demon out was not his choice of starting the day, but in a strange way he felt safe. His memories of last night were blurry, but he recalled it had felt the same then. I trust you . That had been his own words. And it seemed like he had no choice but to stand by them.

Again their hips rolled against him and this time he responded, hesitantly dragging his tongue along the slit and over their cl*t. Haarlep moaned and let their head tip back. The black hair fell out of their bun and cascaded down their back till he could feel it tickling on his stomach - just like he had imagined it. Encouraged he went on, finding that maybe it was not the worst way to get woken. It had been long, very long, since the last time he had pleasured someone, but the hand buried in his hair guided him. That he had little choice about what to do, restrained by Haarlep’s thighs, made it easier to just … go with it. The little sighs and moans from above when he found the right spot trickled down Raphael’s throat like praise. He got eager. He wanted to make them cum, to prove his worth. He tried sucking and humming against the wet c*nt and got rewarded by a shiver down their belly and a loosened grip in his hair. The tip of his tongue pressed on the swollen little nub and circled it. They lost their grip on him entirely. Instead their hand shot up to their own breast, squeezing it. What a sight it was to see their lips tremble and the soft skin being kneaded, their nipples hard and pointy. Their hips suddenly jerked against him. Close.

Bits of memories of last night swept back into him: They had wanted him to say their name. As his tongue started spelling it on their cl*t, Raphael was fully aware of what he was doing: Acknowledging something he could have blamed on the haze of last night.

Haarlep.

Their hips stuttered and their eyes closed. A small delightful scream and their c*nt contracted against his lips, wet, sweet and perfect.

As they finally rolled off him, he felt a sense of achievement. Still, now that he was free, some common sense seemed to come back to him. He wiped his mouth and sat up, looking down on the sated incubus.

“Will you now tell me what is going on?”

The demon ignored him, rolled into a lascivious pose and made a sound that could only be described as a purr.

“Haarlep!”

“Tea or coffee?”

“What?”

“Tea or coffee? You drink both, so what should it be?”

“Coffee.”

“Downstairs, kitchen is to the right, machine is on the counter, the good beans are in the red bag. Bloody Mary for me.”

Raphael stared at them for a moment longer. A part of him had a hard time believing he had just been ordered to make his own coffee and serve them a drink. Then he turned around to do just that.

“Oh, and, darling, don’t you dare bring me a virgin.”

Raphael rolled his eyes and trodded downstairs. Haarlep’s apartment appeared to be a loft with a big window front that showed a generous view over the gray and boring city. The stairs were built in an industrial style with a rusty railing and these kind of separated steps that would always make you afraid you'd fall into the abyss between them. Raphael managed to avoid that and found himself on the lower floor. It was a fairly open space and showed the wildest array of aesthetics one could possibly imagine. Whilst the hallway featured half assembled ikea-shelves, a stolen street sign and funny postcards on the wall, the half-bathroom Raphael found to his right and used quickly was decorated with the most cliché maritime accessories, which you'd normally find in the bathrooms of couples in their 60s.

As he ventured further he found a rustic kitchen coated in hardwood with ruby red accents, complete with an exquisite bar that filled a whole wall - and a Coca-Cola mini fridge that contained only cans of the discontinued cinnamon and one six-pack of cherry co*ke. Raphael closed it and turned around. Attached to the kitchen was a sun room overlooking the - at this time of the year - barren hills. It featured a hookah surrounded by plush pillows and was overlooked by a grand stained glass window in art deco style that showed the fall of man and sprinkled green and red spots of light over the living space. The whole place was surprisingly pretty, minus the student housing vibes in the hallway. Raphael felt as if he had expected something different and exactly this at the same time.

He returned to the counter where he found a coffee machine that could easily make a prop in a steampunk movie and rows upon rows of liquor. Every kind. From old whiskey, a single bottle of which could probably buy an island in the Pacific, to a sweet German liquor called “Ficken” (engl.: “f*cking”). Raphael shook his head and started to investigate the monstrosity in front of him. That was multiple levels ahead of his filter coffee machine at home. Well, it couldn't be too difficult could it? At least the start button was easy to find. Humming the machine came to life. Raphael grabbed a cup, placed it under it and just hoped Haarlep hadn't changed the settings to some kind of absurdity. Thinking about it … Better be safe than sorry.

Luckily when he retrieved the mentioned bag of beans a stained and torn manual fell out of the cupboard as well. With its help Raphael managed to produce black drinkable liquid which he infused with sugar and, because the regular milk in the fridge had gone off, nothing else. Then he wandered over to the window. The bitter taste was surprisingly familiar. Had he not always drunk his coffee with milk and sugar?

He wandered over to the stained glass window, sipping the coffee and took a closer look at it. It featured some changes to the well known scene. Some obscene changes. The snake appeared as two devils - or was it the same just mirrored? The wings of each side were connected to the other. To the left the devil was holding Eve down by her neck, her tongue out and salivating, reaching for his co*ck, whilst on the right Adam stood bent over, receiving. Raphael let his eyes wander over the devil’s features. He thought back to the night before, when Haarlep had shifted midst taking him. What would their true form look like?

Haarlep.

If only there was more than just a name. They seemed to know him, intimately, and he had no clue how. What had he done to get involved with actual devils?

Raphael shook his head slightly, drinking his coffee. Then he refilled the cup, black coffee this time, and wondered what in the hells a drink called Bloody Mary would be. Instinctively he reached for his phone to look it up, but remembered that he was still naked and he had no clue where it was. A bit lost he wandered through the kitchen, looking for help. He found it in the shape of the smart fridge. Asking himself what he was doing with his life for the hundredth time in the last twenty-four hours he googled how to make a co*cktail on a fridge.

Sounds disgusting.

But, if he brought them what they wanted, he may finally get some answers. As if the org*sm hadn’t been enough.

It took Raphael halfway through the second coffee until he found all the ingredients and put the co*cktail together. He wandered back upstairs, careful to not spill it.

He found Haarlep still in bed, but in a different shape. Raphael’s throat became dry the moment he saw them. Red scaly skin, wide wings, a tail and two sets of horns, one pair smaller than the other. The horns held back strands of dark wavy hair and the face was … It was young with a long nose that featured a barely visible hook. The eyes were flaming red. Still, the smile was the same in each shape they took. Not saying anything, Raphael handed the drink over, but kept standing in front of the bed, looking down on them. The bedroom again featured a different style than the rest of the loft: It was white and minimalistic. Red neon lights in the shape of horns framed the bed and the devil lying in it.

“Really?” Raphael signed at the questionable choice of decoration.

“You don’t like it?” They tilted their head, somehow spreading into a position that took up the entire bed.

“You really have to play up the whole devil thing, don’t you?”

For reasons unknown the words caused Haarlep to crack up until they almost spilled their co*cktail over the sheets.

Impatiently Raphael waited till they calmed themselves before he went on. “So, what is this? Who are you really? What are you to me? And why in the hells did you decide to play Mr. Halep for months before kidnapping me?”

Raphael had finished his second coffee and was determined to get answers.

“Come here.”

“No.”

“You’re really into making things harder for yourself, aren’t you?”

“I am not into any of this -”

Haarlep snorted and Raphael felt himself flush red.

“Come. Here.”

With narrowed eyes and significant reluctance Raphael crawled onto the bed.

“Look at me.”

They reached out and cupped his face so he was forced to stare at their features. They stayed a while like this until Haarlep asked: “Still nothing?”

“The face makes me uncomfortable in a way I can’t put a finger on. Despite it being objectively handsome.”

“Objec- Are you kidding me?” They withdrew their hand. “No, of course you are not.” Haarlep sighed, audibly disappointed.

Raphael sat down next to them, looking down. “What is going on with me?”

“I can’t tell you.”

“Don’t take me for a fool. I know that you know.”

“I do.”

“And?”

“Raphael.”

His name spoken by their tongue caused something inside him to resonate. It vibrated through his chest soothing his nerves and setting them on fire at the same time. Raphael looked up.

“I can’t tell you. You’ll have to figure it out yourself.”

Raphael let out a sound of frustration. Then he took a deep breath and got up.

“Fine.” Nothing was fine. Not as long as he was without answers. But he was wise enough to know when to temporarily leave a topic. “Can I at least take a shower then?”

This bathroom was big, pompous and full of ornate clutter. It felt like stepping into a European baroque cathedral. The room featured a gigantic bathtub on claws in the middle, but also a spacious shower and two sinks. One wall consisted entirely of mirrors. Raphael stepped right under the hot water of the shower and indulged in the feeling of washing the last night off his skin and out of his hair. He just used whatever products he found.

Once he was clean, Raphael stepped in front of the mirrors. Reluctantly, because he had avoided his reflection for as long as he could remember. Now he approached himself with caution and the urge to shave. He found dark wavy hair that had grown almost down to his shoulders, now slicked back with water, tanned skin with a reddish undertone, a hooked nose, brown eyes and thin lips. Except now the lower lip was slightly swollen still where it had been split from being bitten. Whilst he applied some shaving cream, his eyes wandered down his body. Haarlep had been right, he had become thin, probably because of his struggles with keeping himself fed.

He started shaving and tried not to look too closely at the traces the demon had left on him but failed. Most noticeable were the blue bruises around his hip bones, where he had bumped against the desk. They were also on his wrists. And then the bite marks all over his neck and shoulders, red and circular, some of them bruised in an array of colors. Raphael quickly checked his back and discovered parallel scratch marks over the full length of it. He washed the shaving cream off, dried his face and when he looked up, he found the demon standing right behind him. In this shape they were inhumanly tall and laid their claws on his shoulders with ease.

“And? Do you like what you see?”

Raphael shrugged.

“I do”, Haarlep said. “You look so pretty like this. Who would have thought?”

They traced some of the bruises slightly. A shiver ran down Raphael’s spine.

Marked. Claimed.

In an instant they pressed their body against his from behind. They let their hands wander down to his hips and squeezed. The sudden pain caused Raphael to sharply draw in air. Expecting another demonstration of their power over him, he tensed. But to his surprise Haarlep only sighed. He could feel their breath touching his hair. As they spoke again they sounded slightly annoyed.

“It’s not fun to punish you when you don’t know why you deserve it.”

Chapter 8: Soap

Chapter Text

“Haarlep.”

Raphael ordered the incubus to his side without even looking at them. He had just returned to the House of Hope after a visit he paid the mortal he needed most at the moment. To their misfortune they didn’t think they needed him. His brows furrowed angrily and Raphael got rid of his clothes by snapping a finger. He changed into fiend form and rolled his head to loosen the muscles. It was uncomfortable to compress himself into the tiny shape of a human for longer periods of time. Time to wash the chaos of the material plane off. He descended into the pool that was the center of his boudoir and let the hot waves lap against his skin.

“Haarlep!”

He watched them finally appear. The sight of his own perfect body, his own younger face worn by the incubus soothed the growing anger, but not entirely. Raphael looked at them.

“Join me.”

“Eager, are we?” Haarlep said as they sauntered over, a lazy grin on their lips. “Looks like you had a rough day, master.”

Raphael felt his mouth twisting into a sneer at his mockery. “I do not recall asking you for your input. However I do recall asking for you twice.” He glared daggers at his toy, the anger flaring up anew fueled by the insolence.

“And yet you called for me.” Haarlep smiled and lowered themselves, taking a seat on the ledge of the pool, legs dangling idly and splashing the water. “Don’t you want to tell me what is burdening you?”

“Why should I do such a thing? Your head is only good for one thing and it’s not thinking.”

“If you say so, you are certainly right, master.”

Poison dripped from the incubus’ lips and Raphael heard it, but he chose to ignore it. Haarlep’s feelings - if they were even capable of such - were none of his concern.

“Wash my back.”

He placed himself between their legs, his back facing them. Haarlep followed his orders, took the soap and dug their fingers into the soft flesh of his shoulders and the tight muscles around his wings. After a bit they let their hands wander down his arms and pressed their chest against his back. Raphael’s tail twitched.

They brought their mouth close to his ear. “What could it be that has left you so pent up? Perhaps a little mouse? Daring to take the cheese, but evading the trap?”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about. They bow to me eventually. They still have -” He spit the word out like an insult. “- hope. I will drain every last drop of it and then they'll have no choice but to come knocking at my door.”

Haarlep’s warm hands on his neck soothed him, familiar, well-known and all his - in the most literal sense. The fingers wandered up, slightly scratching his scalp, then entangling with his hair and giving it a slight pull.

“Haarlep.” It was a warning.

He heard a sigh from behind. “I know, I know … you're just too tempting.”

Raphael decided to let it slip. There was no one else he could trust with his body, no fiend nor mortal. Of course his incubus was a spy, but at least with Haarlep he knew where he stood. They would not betray him.

The devil you know …

An incubus, bound by a contract, wearing his shape, using his voice and granting him the pleasure of feeling himself twofold: It was a good deal. If they’d only talk less, it would be perfect. Perfect as the lips that now started pecking at his neck.

“You should be careful, master. You would not be the first devil they fool.”

Raphael turned around so abruptly the water splashed. “I am not like this petty brainless doll Mizora!” he shouted. “I don’t fail! Shut up or I'll flay you alive. Tear you limb from limb and leave you hanging from the walls of my manor as a warning.”

“A threat, how creative.”

“I warn you, Harlot! And take off the harness.”

“As you wish.” Haarlep stood up and started undressing. There was something low and raspy in their voice as they added: “But don’t be surprised if the mouse finds their way into your granary.” They tried to take their time stripping, but Raphael just snapped his fingers again and made the leather disappear. “Hurry. I don’t keep you for changing and chatting.”

The incubus pouted. Raphael did not grant them as much as a look. He left the pool, drying himself with an absent wave of his hand.

“To the bed, Haarlep”, he ordered.

They followed him, still sulking. Raphael chose to ignore it. This was about him and him alone. He was the master in this house. He placed himself on the bed, laying on his back, waiting for Haarlep to follow him. They approached slowly, almost stalking. The way they moved and smiled was the most obvious difference between them.

Haarlep knew what Raphael expected. There was no explanation needed as they climbed on top of him. His own face smiled down on him, but then they hesitated. What do they want now? Raphael should really think about a way to make them shut up permanently.

“May I kiss you?” The irony was in the sweetness in which this question was proposed.

“Of course not,” Raphael scoffed.

“One day you’ll give in and I will show you what heights I could really guide you to. You don’t know what you are missing.”

“Incubi poisoning is none of it.”

Haarlep ignored him and lowered their face so they could whisper in his ear: “You don’t know what you really want, but I do. I can feel it burning under your skin every time you come to me enraged, every time you're furious or drowning in disappointment. Everytime things don’t go your way and you wish-”

“I know exactly what I want, incubus. I want control. I am control. And now go to work, before I cut out your tongue.”

“We both know what a waste that would be”, Haarlep answered and finally made their way down to his co*ck. Their practiced hand traced Raphaels hips, their forked tongue licking over his length.

Finally.

It would be nicer if he didn’t have to argue with his toy every time he needed its services. Still, he never followed through with his threats and they knew it. The incubus saliva slickened his co*ck and Raphael watched himself going down on him. Haarlep’s eyes were half closed, their wings folded behind their back and their tail curled. Still, they just played with him, tracing their lips across the sides of his shaft, wrapping the tips of their tongue around his tip.

“Go on!”

Patience had never been his strong suit. If he had to indulge in physical pleasure, he wanted the job done effectively. He was the one playing with his pawns. Nobody played with him - The thought was not as reaffirming as Raphael had anticipated. Still.

The incubus pulled back, looking up at him. Sometimes Raphael feared they knew him better than he did. That they might be right about a few of the things that left their lips when Raphael only listened with half an ear. Though this thought was drowned quickly by their lips closing around him. They took him in, pushing him into the hot wetness of their mouth. Entirely, because incubi were unable to gag. Their head bobbed as their tongue worked. Their hand fastened around his balls. His breath got ragged. Haarlep hollowed their cheeks. He could feel the tips of their tongue. He didn’t need much more to come. And why shouldn’t he? Why should he wait for something he could have right now? Greedy, maybe, but wasn’t he a devil after all?

Raphael clenched his teeth and gave way to the heat that coiled in his abdomen. He jerked and made Haarlep swallow all of his cum. They did not complain. Why would they? If he was quick it meant less work for them.

“Anything else you wish, master?” They said as they licked their lips clean.

Raphael watched them, already getting up. “Not yet. I have work to do.”

At least now he would be able to focus. He slipped into a bathrobe and sat down in front of his desk. Ink and quill stood ready, waiting for him, just next to a neatly stacked pile of papers. Raphael started sorting through them, but noticed that Haarlep had followed him.

“This looks tedious.”

“It’s not.” Raphael dipped his quill into the ink and started making revisions on one of the contracts.

The incubus groaned. “Someone should really teach you what fun is.”

“It won't be you.”

Nothing.

“I’ll have time for fun, when I am the master of the crown of Karsus.”

Nothing again.

“I know you’re rolling your eyes. Fine, come here if you can’t get enough.”

He looked back at Haarlep who tilted their head, but followed his invitation, taking place on his lap, straddling him. The weight of their body did feel good, if Raphael was honest. Comfortable. Nice … He let Haarlep f*ck him at times, when he was in the mood. It was always the same as today: A pleasurable relief, delivered at his will, in the most efficient way.

Haarlep started touching him again, stroking across his chest, brushing against the nipples occasionally. Their face revealed they were lost in thoughts. Suddenly Raphael did not want to look at his own face anymore.

“Shift”, he commanded. “Archduch*ess.”

Haarlep obeyed and with a shiver of sparks a female form appeared on his lap. Raphael grabbed her thighs and let his hands wander up to their waist. The softness of their flesh was a nice change.

“Sit on me.”

Their tit* brushed against his face as Haarlep did what he wanted, immediately rolling their hips and grinding against his hardening length. Downtime for a devil was optional, for a cambion at least much shortened. Raphael reached down between them whilst Haarlep placed their hands on his shoulders. Raphael slid two fingers across their c*nt. Not to pleasure them, of course, just because he wanted to feel the slick wetness. For a moment he was tempted to taste it, but he was not that stupid. Instead he aligned himself and let Haarlep take him. They sat down, his clock sliding into them with just the perfect degree of resistance, the perfect tightness and the perfect softness. As they were comfortable he reached around them for the parchment.

Haarleps eyes widened, then their brows furrowed. Raphael ignored them.

He felt a breath against his ear, followed by the words: “One day I am going to kill you.”

Raphael only chuckled in response.

They fidgeted on his lap for a bit. Raphael pretended not to notice. Eventually they settled and placed their head against the side of his. Raphael started humming as he revised some lines of poetry. As he refilled his quill, his other hand absentmindedly caressed their back. He didn’t even notice. Haarlep froze for the tiniest of moments, then they closed their eyes.

Raphael kept them there on his lap and worked around them.

An outsider could take them for lovers. Nothing would be more wrong.

Chapter 9: Mouthwash

Chapter Text

“What do you mean I deserve it?” Raphael took a few steps away from the incubus. “Oh, I can see it in your face. You ‘can't tell me’. But I'm good enough to f*ck, I guess.” He crossed his arms in front of his chest. “I want my clothes.”

“Your sad excuse for a wardrobe is still in the shop.” A hint of a dangerous spark appeared in Haarlep's eyes. “You can have some of mine if you must.” They pointed towards a closet on one side of the bedroom.

Raphael walked past the incubus towards it. He would get dressed. And then he would leave. He had no clue where to go, but anything was better than staying with this maniac. He pulled the door open. “You can't be serious.”

What did he expect? Rows of neatly hung suits and folded neckties? He had no clue, but it was certainly not this colorful mess that spread out in front of him: A mix of the wardrobe of a stoner schoolgirl and a nightclub stripper.

“You don't expect me to wear this?” Raphael held up a leather harness.

“I would love to see you try.” Haarlep followed him across the room, still visibly displeased, but a sh*t eating grin sat in the corners of their mouth.

Raphael bit back a response and shoved the strips of black leather far into the back of the shelf. Instead he looked for anything that would be wearable on the streets. He retrieved a pair of black leather pants, a tank top that said “Devil inside” and a light gray sweater. it was the only one without some kind of childish print on it. He looked at the items with disgust, but at least they were neither tie-dyed nor bottomless, so he put them on. The sweater turned out two sizes too big, but he’d just roll up the sleeves. As he was clothed Raphael turned back to the devil, who had watched him do so in atypical silence.

“I guess my other stuff is also back in the shop?”

Now that he thought about it: How did he even get here after he’d collapsed on the desk?

“Your phone is on the nightstand. As is your charger, your chessboard, your diary and your bible. Why in the nine hells do you have a bible?”

Raphael walked across the room without answering, but as he found the items there just as described, some of his anger and determination to flee left him. There was something about Haarlep keeping his belongings safe that caused him to hesitate. Maybe they were sincere. Maybe they really couldn’t tell him?

“Stay with me.”

He heard Haarlep's voice whispering in his ear from behind. For a moment he was tempted. Why not stay? Why not hand himself over to the demon? Let them assert the control he lacked. If it hadn’t been for their next words, maybe he would have surrendered.

“I will keep you safe. You’ll never have to worry again.”

“f*ck you! If you had paid me I wouldn’t even be in this situation! You still owe me my salary for last month, Mr. Halep or not. We have a contract!”

“Of course that is what you -”

The sound of the doorbell startled them both.

Haarlep jumped up, shifting into yet another human form: A young man with a lot of piercings. How many of them did they have? Then they rushed to put on a bathrobe and ran downstairs to answer the door. Raphael followed the demon quick enough to catch a glimpse of a very small woman with dark curly hair standing in the doorway. She held a stack of pizza boxes. Then the boxes got tossed aside and the woman entered.

“Korilla?”

Haarlep instinctively took a step back. Their eyes widened and their hands started glowing. A swirl of purple light sprouted from them, only to get absorbed as reached the woman.

“Do you think I come here unprepared, Haarlep? You’re not going to charm me! Where is he?”

She looked around only to find Raphael standing on the last step of the stairs, desperately trying to roll up the long sleeves of his hoodie. Her eyes flared up with anger at the sight and she followed Haarlep who now slowly retreated. “What did you do to him? Dolor! ”

Her hands crackled with energy and she fired a blast of red lightning against Haarlep’s chest.

“You still got -?”

“You. Wretch. You-!”

Every word of hers now got accentuated with blasts of red lightning. “Whose house is this? Who did you kill for it you wicked creature?”

Haarlep tumbled under the staccato of her attacks. “Kill? I would never -”

Lightning flared again.

“Ouch!” Haarlep raised both hands to protect their face. “She’s on vacation in Hawaii! Rich gay woman. She got her life, I got her house. It was a good deal! You would have done the same.”

Raphael just watched with widened eyes as Haarlep got struck by another blast despite their defensive words.

Then Korilla raised her arms to make a grand gesture, her eyes still flickering with rage. “ Non movere! ”

Haarlep cried out. “Korilla, if you’d just -” The spell hit and froze them mid sentence.

“Shut up! I should have killed you weeks ago!” Korilla shouted. “Right when you sold the hammer, but you’re not getting away this time. Prepare to die! Per- ”

“No!”

Without thinking, Raphael stepped in right between them, facing Korilla. “Don’t kill them.”

Korilla shot Raphael a suspicious look. “Give me one reason not to.”

Haarlep, their lips now sealed and unable to move their limbs, stared at them.

“Something doesn’t add up.” Carefully Raphael removed himself from the potential field of fire. He looked up and down the frozen incubus with narrowed eyes, trying to avoid the area where the loose bathrobe had parted during the fight. “I think they were not just being a menace. Actually, I think they were trying to help.”

Korilla seized Raphael, then drowned the flames in her hand. “Fine.” But as a flicker of relief appeared in Haarlep’s eyes, she turned back to them immediately. “You’re not off the hook! I’ll just let the master explain.”

“The master?” Raphael chimed in.

Korilla sighed and rolled her eyes.

“You.”

“Me? But I -”

“Good hells”, Korilla huffed. “You’re a devil, Raphael!”

A few minutes later Raphael and Korilla were seated on the cushions in the living space, eating the pizza that survived getting dropped. Haarlep, still frozen like a statue, stayed in the hallway.

“So, you say I am actually a devil. And you thought I had been killed?”

“I am pretty sure you were dead. I saw your corpse. My powers were gone, then - boom - they came back and you were gone.”

“And your powers come from a contract with me, which makes me your patron and you my warlock.”

Korilla tilted her head over the pizza slice she was holding. “You really remember nothing?”

“Sometimes fragments of it come back, only to slip away from me again. I did remember Haarlep’s name, though.”

Korilla narrowed her eyes. “How?”

Raphael fidgeted. “Let’s just say I was under a lot of pressure.”

“Ah. You f*cked.” Korilla bit in her slice, drawing a string of cheese.

Raphael stared at her.

“Oh come on, I practically lived with you two. You’ve always let them f*ck you, that’s nothing new. They are an incubus. Your personal incubus.”

Raphael took a moment to let this piece of information settle.

“What’s new is that Haarlep acts like they are in charge”, Korilla continued.

“They were the only one who helped me, even if they couldn’t tell me why.”

“I am here now. I would have come sooner, but it took me months to comb the realms.”

“I have no clue who you are.”

“And I’m not going to f*ck you to remember, so you’ll just have to trust me.”

He didn’t trust her, but Haarlep seemed to know her, so maybe there was some truth in what she said. Frustrated, Raphael hit his fist on the table. “Does it matter? Whatever I was, I am human now. I have no power, no memory and no place to go.”

Korilla set down her slice of pizza and leaned forward. “And this is where I think you’re wrong”, she said, pointing at him. “My powers need a source. You are the source. I would just be a regular dwarf without your infernal magic. Under all of this -” She gesticulated at his current humiliating attire. “- you must still be a devil.”

“What is a dwarf?”

Korilla leaned back, groaning and rubbing the point between her eyes. “My race. Is there any strong liquor in this tasteless kitchen?”

Raphael showed her the bar where she poured them both a generous shot of the old whiskey.

“What I wonder”, Korilla said after she had downed it, “is why Haarlep can’t tell anything. If that is really true and not just a lie for the convenience of keeping you on a leash.”

“I think they are genuine about that.” Raphael swirled the amber liquid in the glass. “Did you notice they barely fought back?” He poured down the whiskey and concealed a cringe. It tasted like mouthwash.

“They always rather ran than fight. Or hid behind imps.” Korilla snickered low and spiteful.

That might be true, Raphael wouldn’t know. But he suspected some other reason: Maybe they hoped to get bound so they would be unable to stop Korilla from telling the truth.

Korilla turned her head to look at the frozen Haarlep through the open doorway. “I wonder what binds their tongue then. Maybe a spell? Or a curse?”

“Or a contract.”

Korilla’s head snapped back to focus on Raphael. She raised her eyebrows. “That would make an awful lot of sense. There’s only a few ways to break a contract and since we don’t know who keeps it, that's off the table. At least for now. There might be a way to restore your memory, though. First option: Noblestalk - probably not powerful enough. Second option: Someone powerful enough to even counter hellish magic.”

“Who?”

“A hag.”

Chapter 10: Toilet paper

Chapter Text

“Come”, Korilla tapped Haarlep’s shoulder with her staff. “We're doing a roadtrip.”

The incubus fell out of their frozen state and tumbled, changing back into the red fiend form. “What?”

“You understood. Petrification doesn't damage your ears.” The warlock walked past them towards the door.

Raphael and Haarlep exchanged a quick look, then they both exclaimed “Wait!” in unison.

Haarlep jumped between her and the exit whilst Raphael held her back with questions. “Where are we going? How do we go there? What is a hag?”

Haarlep joined in, blocking her from leaving. “I am not going to help you with this!”

Korilla just snorted. “That would have been a first.” Then she turned to face Raphael. “A hag is a witch of ancient fey origin. A powerful one. They work quite similar to devils, but use a different source of magic. Maybe she can override whatever blocks your memory.”

“How do you know such a being?”

“You had me running around the Sword Coast for years in your service.”

“The what?”

Korilla rubbed her temples. “Fine. Back into the living room. And you better behave-” She shot Haarlep a look. “-or I will evaporate you and this time the master won't stop me.”

Haarlep rolled their eyes, but followed quietly. Korilla pulled a map out of the pocket of her robe and unfolded it on the table. “There are a multitude of realms. The world I originate from, Faerûn, or, in your case, the hells, just as the one we are currently in. You-” She addressed Haarlep. “-are not the only one who conducts business in both worlds. Hags do as well. The rumors I heard made me conclude one is active somewhere in this area.” Her finger drew a circle almost on the other side of the country.

“That's a terrible idea”, Haarlep interjected. “He is not going to do this.”

“He is.”

“You’re planning on haggling with a hag! Have you lost your mind, little warlock?”

“It is the only option we have.”

"No, it's not.” Haarlep crossed their arms in front of their chest, their wings unfolded. “Everything was going according to plan until you broke into my home acting like a maniac.”

Korilla scoffed. “And what plan would that be? f*cking his memory back into him?”

“Exactly.”

“And how far did you come with this method? He remembers your name, nothing else.”

“It’s more than you achieved. And I haven’t had much time.”

“You had almost two months.”

“You -”

“Shut it, both of you!” Raphael stepped towards the table where Korilla and Haarlep glared daggers at each other. Haarelp’s tail flicked from left to right. Now they turned their heads to look at him. Raphael struggled to hold up the confidence in which he had interrupted them. It did not help that the sleeves of his shirt again slid down his arms. Resolved he pushed them back up.

“I am going to try the hag.”

Something dark flickered over Haarlep’s face. “That is a terrible idea.”

“It’s my decision. I want my memories back.” And I don’t trust you.

“Fine,” Haarlep spit the word out. “And how do you think you're going there?”

“It's not that difficult to travel in this plane”, Korilla chimed in. “There’s trains and buses.”

Raphael placed a hand on the map, leaning over it to take a closer look. Going there would take a few days even by car. It would take ages using public transport. “I'll drive.”

“You can drive?” Korilla sounded suspicious.

“Somehow.”

Haarlep in the meantime sat down on one of the kitchen chairs, looking at them.

“Do you have a car?” Korilla asked further.

Raphael’s lips thinned. He hadn’t planned that far ahead. Silence ensued.

Haarlep smirked. “What a coincidence: I happen to have one.”

Korilla turned towards them. “You’re not coming.”

“Then you’re not going.” Haarlep tilted their head. “And that, love, was that.”

“I thought you wouldn't help us.”

“I am not going to. Hag magic is a sticky fly trap. A few more nights under my care and this brat here would have been perfectly restored.” They reached out and caressed Raphael’s cheek. He flicked the hand away. Haarlep continued. “I am going to lend you my car and I will be joining the trip under one condition.”

“And what would that be?” Raphael groaned in annoyance.

“You succumb to my method for the duration of the trip. If it doesn’t work, you’re free to try the hag.”

Raphael hesitated. On one hand he didn’t like this kind of deal at all. He couldn’t trust the incubus. Not after all the lying and deceiving they subjected him to, involuntarily or not. On the other hand: It worked. He couldn’t deny that.

Haarlep watched him as he weighed the options and felt his cheeks flush pink. The wings folding and unfolding behind them and the fiery eyes brought Raphael back to the night in the office. He hated how the memory immediately made his blood rush south. The truth was, he wanted more of it - and it worked . Finally he nodded in agreement.

Korilla let out a deep sight. “We’re all going to regret this.” Then she straightened her shoulders and pushed her hair back. “Anyways, pack your things. We should leave as soon as possible.”

“I need another coffee before I steer a car across the country.”

“I am perfectly able to drive as well,” Haarlep interjected.

Korilla and Raphael exchanged a look. “No.”

Two hours later the three of them were successfully caffeinated and sat in the front of the company’s yellow sprinter van. The red letters of “Direct from Hell Logistics” marked the sides of the cargo space that Haarlep had filled with random stuff they considered useful - dog biscuits and a curling trophy for example. Meanwhile Raphael had made a pack list to make sure at least everyone brought their toothbrush. Eventually he had given up. Korilla didn’t bother in the first place and just threw her bag of holding on top of the pile.

Now the warlock and the incubus were forced to share the double passenger seat and neither of them could look less happy about the arrangement. Alas, Korilla couldn’t drive and Haarlep wasn’t allowed to, so they had no choice. Raphael took a deep breath and prayed that today would be a good day to remember how to drive. The inconsistency in his memory seemed to have settled a bit since he was in the company of the incubus and his warlock. Still, he didn’t trust it. Carefully Raphael turned the key and started the engine.

As he drove the van out of the parking lot he took a look back. Gray blocky houses, gray sky and dirty streets. Leaving the skyscraper with Haarlep’s apartment and the company building behind, a feeling crept up on him that he may never see any of this again. Just as he wondered if he would miss anything, he felt something touch his thigh. Raphael almost stalled the engine as he looked down and saw that Haarlep, again in the shape of the pierced young man, had reached out and their long manicured nails caressed his leg. Raphael pressed his lips together and set the turn signal.

They made it as far as to the end of the street before Korilla broke the silence.

“Did anyone remember to bring toilet paper?”

Chapter 11: Hand sanitizer

Chapter Text

“If I have to listen to ‘Poor unfortunate souls’ one more time, I swear I'll thunderwave this phone out the window!”

“We're not listening to jazz, Korilla, or I'll fall asleep driving.”

Haarlep tried to chime in: “How about -”

“No.” This time it came from both sides. Haarlep pouted and crossed their arms, deliberately elbowing Korilla in the process.

“I should have left them petrified and shoved them in the trunk.”

“Just because you have a horrible taste in music!”

“... poor unfortunate souls …”

“Raphael, please. And stop singing!”

Raphael rolled his eyes and hit the wheel in frustration. A hot spark shot through his body, but just before he could wonder if he was having a stroke, the song changed. Light country and rock filled the car, drifting out of the open windows.

Haarlep turned towards him and narrowed their eyes. “Which playlist is this?”

“I don't know. Didn’t you change it?”

“Not me. Korilla?”

“I only listen to country when I'm drunk. Which, sadly, I am not.”

“Raphael!” Haarlep's eyes sparked with excitement.

“Seems like your magic is back”, Korilla added.

“And he used it to create a playlist .” Haarlep snorted. “That is so on brand it's ridiculous.”

Raphael did not respond. Instead he took another sip out of his can of cherry co*ke and kept his eyes on the road. Magic. He had used actual magic. It had just come back to him in the most mundane situation. It felt natural, just like he was used to solving all his problems that way.

To be honest there had been a bit of doubt. Despite seeing Haarlep switch forms and Korilla shooting lightning from her hands, the thought of it all being a hoax or a conspiracy, had lingered in the back of his mind. But he had felt the spark, the fire in his veins. Magic. Infernal magic.

They kept the new playlist on as they drove on. It supplied them with a seemingly endless stream of country and rock, most of it hells themed. The city lay far behind and the van now crossed open land with a distant mountain range lining the horizon. The sun had surpassed its zenith and every once in a while golden rays of sunlight broke through the cloud cover and made the raindrops on the windshield glisten.

“ ... Devil that I see

You know just what you mean to me

My eyes will follow you dear

When you pass me so near … ”

“We need to refuel”, Raphael broke the temporary silence. “Can one of you look up if there's a gas station in this wasteland?”

“There should be one, just a few kilometers ahead.”

“Good. I need a toilet break.”

“And I am hungry.”

“You have eaten all the cherry gummies!”

“You didn't want any.”

“I didn’t want them right now. That doesn't mean you can just ravage the bag.”

“Sounds like a you problem.”

“Contemptuous creature.”

“Annoying witch.”

“Whose shape are you wearing anyways?”

“Your mom's.”

Raphael listened to his two unalike passengers bickering with only half an ear. Not for the first time he wondered how he'd come to be involved with them. Actually - “Korilla?”

“Yes?”

“How do we come to know each other? Why did I make you my warlock?”

“Oh, that.” Korilla sighed and put her feet up on the dashboard. “That's a messy story. I don't know if the time is right for it.”

“You got obsessed with her sister.”

“What?”

“Haarlep, shut up! This is my final warning.” Korilla’s hand started glowing dangerously which did the trick to silence the incubus. “They are right”, she continued. “In a way. My sister, Hope, was a bit more than a regular dwarf. She was Hope incarnate and probably the only person more annoying than Haarlep. Also, as Hope, she was fated to be your archenemy. You got obsessed with the idea of breaking her, but never succeeded. You managed to channel her power though and used it to fuel your house.”

“Our house.”

“The House of Hope.”

“And what was your part in it?”

“I hated my sister. For starters, she always was everyone's favorite. Always happy, always positive. Me? Not so much. Melancholic, our parents called it. I spent a lot of time alone, but over time my condition got worse. And when the moment came that I truly needed Hope, she was not there. She left me a postcard. It had a positive affirmation on it.”

The bitterness in Korilla’s voice was audible even after what must have been decades since the incident. The warlock coughed and carried on. “Anyways. You came to collect her, but found me. We made a deal and I betrayed my sister. Then you asked me to stay. I never regretted it.”

“So you were happy in my service?”

“I was content.”

So, he hadn’t been the worst employer - not like someone else. Raphael shot Haarlep a quick look and was surprised as he caught their eyes. They were of a gentle hazelnut color today, without the fiery orange. Quickly he turned his attention back on the street.

A few minutes later Raphael drove the yellow van into the driveway of a gas station and stepped outside. His first instinct was to stretch his wings, until he remembered there weren’t any - Well at least those impulses finally made sense. Raphael resorted to stretching his arms and then proceeded to fill the gas tank. Not only did he successfully manage to refuel, but also ignore all the obscene jokes Haarlep made in the process. So as he put the lid back on, he was in a bright mood - at least until an important question crossed his mind. “Who is gonna pay the bill?”

To his surprise, Haarlep immediately jumped out of the car, stretched - far more seductively than Raphael before - and grinned. Both their top and bottom lip were pierced with a stud and when they laughed you could see there were two more on their split tongue. Not to mention the whole bag of jewelry in their ears and the eyebrow ring.

“Don’t worry”, they said. “I’ll take care of it. You said you needed a toilet break?”

“Yes, but -”

“Great.” They turned back the car. “Korilla? Something from the shop? Sense of humor perhaps?”

Raphael saw the warlock scoff and exit the car. “I am coming.”

Raphael headed to the restrooms at the back of the building. It was a dimly lit room that could have hardly smelled worse. Finally alone for a few minutes, Raphaels mind began to wander. As he washed his hands and looked at his face in the dirty mirror above the sink the absurdity of the whole situation hit him: There he was, on the road to hells know where, planning on making a deal with a hag and using magic. Carefully he looked over his shoulder before trying out a few hand gestures, whilst searching for the fiery heat he had felt before. Nothing happened. On top of it, it looked ridiculous. Just like himself, how he stood there in Haarlep’s oversized hoodie that smelled vaguely of cinnamon. He would need to stop somewhere and buy actual clothes. Dissatisfied Raphael rolled back the sleeves for the hundredths time today. And this incubus …

Just yesterday they had been nothing more than his boss. And his therapist. And hells knew who else, come to think about it. Now, they were his personal incubus, according to Korilla, having been bound to him for millenia. Apparently he had mistreated them in some way, but they still tried to help. In their way. He sighed. What did “incubus” even mean? Were they capable of feelings? Of loyalty? How could he have forgotten all of this? And still he had agreed to the deal with them …

Raphael felt tired. He needed a meal, a good night's rest and hand sanitizer. He let water from the tap run over his hands and slicked back his hair before leaving the restroom. It was not even late afternoon.

As he reached the car, Raphael found it locked and empty. So the others were still in the shop. He decided to join them and look for hand sanitizer and a snack.

The bell rang as he entered. “Does anyone -?”

He stopped right there on the doorstep, trying to take in the scene that unfolded in front of his eyes. Korilla stood in the middle of a pile of snacks that had fallen out of their shelves, her hands were glowing and she fired blasts at the ceiling. The ceiling in question sprinkled her with water, trying to extinguish a small fire burning to her feet. Raphael made a few steps into the shop.

“Korilla?”

“Yes?”

“What in the hells are you doing?”

“What does it look like? We're robbing the gas station.”

Raphael blinked a few times slowly, then something settled in. With quick steps he closed up on her. “We? Where is Haarlep?”

“Over there. Now stop raining, you stupid thing!” Another stream of light hit the ceiling and crumbs of its paneling rained down on Raphael. He covered his head and rushed past the sprinkler. As he reached the front and only saw a pair of unmoving legs sticking out from behind the counter something sharp and hot shot through his stomach. Then he heard a moan.

With numb legs he approached to see Haarlep straddling a complete stranger, bending over him and devouring his mouth. At least both of them were fully clothed.

“Haarlep?”

They sat up. Their eyes had turned back to their fiery state and a dreamy and sated expression sat in their face. It made Raphael feel nauseous.

“What are you doing?”

“I took care of the cashier.” They sighed and pushed their hair back. “I said I was hungry.”

“Is he dead?”

“Hm?” Haarlep leaned forward and brought their face again close to the guy’s face. “Not yet.”

“Get off him!”

Raphael turned around, a seething anger in his guts, a fiery spark … Instinctively he pointed his finger at the ceiling and the rain stopped immediately. As he did so, he caught a glimpse of another blinking device. “sh*t!” He pointed at it and the camera crumpled to a lump of molten plastic.

“Out now, to the car!”, he commanded, leaving the store without looking if the other two followed. Back in the driver’s seat, he waited until everyone was strapped in, then started the engine and steered the van out of the driveway in highspeed.

For a short moment nobody said a word. The only thing to be heard was the playlist of devil’s rock. All of them were more or less soaked. Korilla kept wringing the water out of her hair and Haarlep displayed their missed calling as a contortionist by getting out of their shirt.

“So, why did you rob the gas station?” Raphael asked carefully.

“They”, Korilla side-eyed Haarlep, “apparently are as broke as you are.”

“What? I thought -”

“It’s true. That’s why I didn’t pay you.”

It took Raphael a moment to let this new piece of information settle in.

“But it wouldn’t have been a problem, if the damned cashier hadn’t been a conspiracy theorist.”

“He resisted the compelling”, Korilla explained. “Apparently he had been waiting for devils to come to earth for years.”

“And then, well, things started to spiral a bit .”

Finally Raphael looked over, to see Korilla sitting cross legged and Haarlep, bare chested, leaning forward. Of course they also have nipple piercings.

“But”, Haarlep announced. “We now have money and sandwiches.” They pulled out a paper bag from the compartment in the passenger’s door, grinning widely.

“And a witness.” Korilla shot the incubus a deathly look. Apparently the short moment of cooperation between them was over already.

“That’s not my fault!” Haarlep protested. “ He didn’t let me kill him.”

“You can’t just run around and kill people!”

“Yes, we can! We’re literal devils. That’s what we do!”

“Are you telling me I killed people before?”

Raphael hit the break and stopped at the side of the road. For a moment Haarlep looked as if they wanted to give another heated answer, but they bit their tongue and looked away instead.

It was Korilla who answered. “Luring the desperate into their demise is your bread and bloody butter! Death, deception, torture, all of it. You bound my sister in shackles to power the house. You tried to break her spirit whilst I sat writing protocol. You were … magnificent and now -” She tried her best to hide her disappointed look. “I just hope you find back to your old self soon or we are all in a lot of trouble when we get back to the hells.”

Raphael didn’t answer. He remembered how Korilla had looked at him when she had seen him for the first time back in Haarlep’s loft. He put in the gear and restarted the engine. “I get it,” he said. “I am not who you expected. I lost my memory, my powers and on top I look ridiculous.” He paused. “I need new clothes. These are the only things I currently got and they are damp. Next stop is going to be a mall.”

Chapter 12: Perfume

Chapter Text

They didn’t find a parking spot until Haarlep insisted it would be fine to use a private one. Nobody would accuse a DHL-van of false parking. Raphael supposed it was a tested practice and did as they said. Korilla stayed behind as they left for the mall, explaining she had her clothes in the back and that she’d never touch what “this plane dares to call comfortable” anyways.

“Fine, keep looking like we picked you up at the ren fair”, Haarlep commented as they slammed the passenger’s door shut. “Let’s go.”

Raphael didn’t roll his eyes, but only because at this point he was afraid they’d fall out from overuse. He followed Haarlep across a busy street and into a cubic multi story building. He had never been to a mall as big as this one and for a moment he was overwhelmed by all the people, the music playing in the stores, the smell of cleaner and candy and fastfood, but then -

He picked up something delicious. Not a scent, more a feeling. It was in the hastened steps of shoppers hunting for last minute gifts. It lingered in the tired eyes of the cashiers, desperate for a better job and the panic of the parents who lost their children in the crowd.

Raphael took a deep breath: desperation.

Though just a split second later it was him who panicked, because Haarlep had vanished. Raphael turned his head to every side, checking the shoe store on the left, the travel agency in the front and a tea shop to his right, momentarily getting distracted by a perfume store before he caught a glimpse of Haarlep’s tall frame. The abundance of metal on their face luckily made them easy to identify. Raphael elbowed his way past a family with a horrifying number of six children and found his hand grabbed by the demon.

“Don’t you dare to get lost. Eyeing the perfumes? We can go there later, if you like. Look, over there!”

They maneuvered him past the travel agency and a pet supply shop in the towards a colorful food stall.

“I need clothes, not -” Whatever that is.

“Yes, but you also need food. And this is food, but fun.” They smiled at him.

Probably trying to charm their way out of the guilt after wrecking the gas station.

“If you insist.” He could do with something sweet after the plain sandwiches Haarlep had shoplifted from the gas station. Though he was skeptical about frozen yogurt.

“I have a feeling that I know exactly what you are going for”, he muttered to himself as he inspected the possible toppings.

Haarlep heard him. “Yes? Do you want to do mine and I do yours?”

“Why?”

“It would be fun. I could prove that I actually know you. Pretty please?”

Raphael felt himself smiling against his will. His mood had been subdued after Korilla had come clear about how disappointed she felt about his current state, but the warlock wasn’t with them now. Perhaps he could pretend for a moment that he was just a guy, shopping with his- He shot Haarlep a look. Boss, ex slave, demon I have a sex deal with. Every option sounded worse than the previous. He sighed. “Fine.”

Haarlep darted off. Raphael examined the options, but for some reason he just knew . They paid with stolen money, sat down at one of the small tables and switched cups.

sh*t. They really know their game.

Plain yogurt with a drizzle of cherry sauce and crumbs of chocolate digestive.

“f*ck, yes.”

Haarlep said in front of their cup which overflowed with everything the topping section had to offer - including extra sprinkles. “This is good . I may forgive you for interrupting my snack.”

“Your snack?”

How did they always manage to do or say something nice and immediately follow it up with the most unhinged madness? Raphael was not sure if the stinging headache he felt was caused by the stress, the brainfreeze or the demon. Probably all of it.

But they are a demon, an incubus. It is their nature.

Raphael licked the sauce off the spoon before asking: “So, how does this work? You need to feed on people? Until they die? And you do so by having sex with them? Normal food is not working?”

“In a way.” Haarlep answered whilst picking all the red smarties from their cup and eating them first. “Mortal food does nothing to sustain me. I need to regularly consume the life essence of thinking creatures, but they don’t necessarily have to die.”

“How often?”

“I can go for a few days without, though it is not advisable - I become quite hangry.” They showed a toothy smile.

“What happens if you don’t?”

As Raphael followed up with this question, he noticed something like a dark shadow flicker over Haarlep’s eyes.

“I will not die quickly. I become weak - and uncontrollable, similar to a vampire, but eventually, yes, I die.”

Did I let them starve?

“And …” Raphael ate another spoonful. “How much do you need?”

“At least one interaction per day is good. It doesn't have to be full on sex, though that gives me the most energy. But I only get truly satisfied by consuming a soul - which means, yes, they die.”

“Is this why you made the deal with me? To feed?”

Haarlep lifted their pierced eyebrows and leaned slightly forward. “No, Raphael. I could have anyone I wanted on this plane. The mortals are very easy to give up their souls here. Even willingly. But I want you - to remember.”

Raphael placed the spoon in his empty cup and looked at the incubus. Not at their shape, but the being behind it. The way their eyes evaded his as if they said something they rather hadn’t. How their hands fidgeted, hinting there was more behind their words.

Raphael stood up, turning away from Haarlep. “So, it's not only Korilla, but you, too,” he stated. “You also think I am a pathetic excuse of who I have once been.”

He could hear as Haarlep got up, the chair making a creaking sound on the floor, audible even despite the music and the chatter around them. Raphael didn’t want to stay, didn’t want to turn around and see the disappointment on their face or hear shallow lies. So he just swallowed the knot in his throat and started walking away. “Forget it, I should just by some clothes and -”

“No.”

He turned around and saw Haarlep still standing where he had left them.

“For what it’s worth: It doesn’t matter to me if you ever get your memories back. But it matters to you.”

Raphael hesitated. “What if it doesn't work? Or what if it does, but the changes are permanent?”

Haarlep seemed to fight their own words as they made their way over their tongue. “I wouldn’t care. I like you either way.”

It had been a long day. An exhausting day. To hear something nice after weeks of psychological stress made him snap. At least that was what Raphael told himself afterwards. He made two quick steps towards Haarlep, rose to his tip-toes, lifted his chin and kissed them. For a moment Haarlep seemed frozen in place, then Raphael felt their hands grabbing his upper arms, holding him firmly. Their lips moved with his in effortless harmony. The sweetness in their kiss made Raphael hunger for more. He opened his lips, tasted them, eager, longingly - a few heartbeats before Haarlep broke the kiss. Confused Raphael looked at them. Why had they -? Then he noticed the warmth on his skin and the tingling, coiling arousal in his loins.

“Damn.”

“Are you-?”

“Unfortunate.”

"Unfortunate? You -”

“I know. As I said: Unfortunate, but I will live. Let’s buy some clothes and get back on the road.”

“Are you okay?”

“I will be.”

Haarlep seemed to debate if they should say more, but then didn’t and so they just entered one of the bigger clothing shops. Raphael focused on slowing his breath for a few moments.

Their saliva is an aphrodisiac. He should have noticed that during their first nighty, but back then he had been too confused and overwhelmed to pay close attention. It’s not even that big of a deal, except if you decide to kiss your demon in public. He tried his best to focus on the task at hand. Haarlep commenting on everything that he should wear in their opinion definitely helped to distract himself from staring at their -

The incubus stood in front of a mannequin wearing a stretchy black sleeveless top with a high neck.

“No way.”

“Don’t worry, that’s not for you.” They grabbed one of the items in their current size and headed to the changing rooms, picking up a few more things on their way. “I’ll be right back.”

Without the influence of a fiend with the fashion sense of a Soho stripper, Raphael managed to pick up a pair of black slacks, a white collared shirt and both a blazer and a sweater. He tried and did not go for gray or brown colors and found that, actually, dark blue and red looked much better on him - and definitely less pathetic . It also helped that the clothes were the right size for once. He did also grab a multipack of boxer briefs and some socks.

Whilst he waited in the queue to pay, he noticed a screen in the main hall outside the store, flashing the news: War, epidemics, rising prices and people dying - the usual.

“That’s 66,66”, the cashier said and drew his attention back to her.

“Of course it is”, Raphael sighed and paid the price that made absolutely no sense for the amount of items he had in his bag. At least it wasn’t six hundred sixty six.

Now, where is Haarlep?

Some cops entered the mall, but they seemed too relaxed for the incubus being the reason for it. His eyes darted back to the screen where a guy was being interviewed. Raphael just thought that he looked vaguely familiar as the video switches and he saw himself on TV - himself, Haarlep and Korilla - filmed from a top angle and very clearly in the process of robbing a gas station.

Whilst the unknown trio of robbers is currently on the run, Mr. Wilson claims-

f*ck!

Raphael turned around, walking back into the store as fast as he could without looking utterly suspicious.Time to grab the incubus and run!

“Haarlep?” he asked as he reached the changing rooms. Had there been so many mall cops before? It felt like their eyes were scanning everywhere for them.

“I’m here. Did you -”

Without thinking, Raphael slipped into the booth the voice had come from. He barely had time to take in the sight of the incubus wearing a cropped fishnet shirt with leather straps and a skirt, before he heard a voice outside.

“Well, hello, that is a welcome surprise.”

“Shush.” Raphael pressed a hand on their mouth and listened.

“Have you seen this man?”, an unknown voice asked.

“No, yes - I don’t know?”

“Madame, we are looking for criminals, have they been in this store?”

“They are looking for us”, Raphael mouthed against Haarlep’s ear. “They are broadcasting us on TV.”

“And you came to get me?”

“What do you mean? Of course I did.”

Their distinct scent of fire, cinnamon and forbidden sweets hit Raphael without any warning. Did they wear some kind of perfume or was that their default? Suddenly he realized how close they were pressed against each other in the small booth.

“You are aware that I could have just changed my shape and nobody would recognise me?”

No, Raphael had not thought about that in his moment of sudden panic. Heat flushed his face and felt stupid.

“This one? Yes I remember this one. They were here, just-”

Haarlep looked down on him, an indecipherable expression on their face. “You're still under the effect of the kiss, are you?”

“No, I am fine. I -”

“Raphael, I can smell your arousal. If I needed to, because I can very clearly feel it, too.”

All the panic, the multitude of feelings confusing him, and he stood there with his co*ck half hardened against Haarlep’s leg. The incubus brushed a strand of his hair behind his ear. Raphael suppressed a shudder. They leaned closer against him. “Want me to do something about it?”, they whispered.

“Yes, one was tall and the other of average height. He looked a bit ragged, thought he was a homeless person at first -”

“It’s not like you can just get out now”, they whispered.

His condition had been bearable as long as his mind had been distracted and he was alone - but now his need grew with every second he stood there, just like his co*ck.

“Mh.”

“I want your permission. Give it.”

“sh*t, fine, do it, but by the hells be quiet.”

“Me? Please, I am a professional.”

Their hands slid effortlessly through the gap in between the buttons on his front they had been working on during their exchange. The moment he felt them on his skin, Raphael closed his eyes. His forehead sank against Haarlep’s shoulder. They pulled the new shirt he had switched the damp Hoodie for up and unfastened his trousers. “Good fabric”, they complimented.

Raphael stayed quiet, because he had to suppress a whine, feeling their palm cupping his crotch, rubbing and kneading softly. He held on to Haarlep’s hips, his fingers finding their way under the waistband of their skirt on their own. Haarlep pulled down his boxers, freeing his length.

f*ck.

He still hated how needy they made him feel and at the same time it was just so good. He felt Haarlep harden as well as they started stroking him. The long fingers of this shape wrapped around him easily, whilst their other hand teased his balls, then left to stroke his back and grab his ass. Raphael twitched under their attention, his mouth half opened against Haarlep’s shoulder. He could still hear the store’s clerk talking to the cops outside, though he had lost track of their words. The incubus saliva still pulsed through his veins, stronger than before.

“I am close.”

But instead of release he felt their fingers closing firmly around the base of his co*ck, holding him shut.

“Are you f*cking serious? Now?”

“We have a deal, remember”, said the incubus. “Get on your knees.”

“Here?”

They loosened their grip a little, continuing the stroking until Raphael clenched his teeth to suppress any sound, then stopped again. As he looked up, they just smiled. “Come on.”

And, because he had no choice, he did it. He went down on the dusty floor in a tiny changing booth whilst outside cops were looking for him.

“Such a good boy.”

Raphael’s eyes closed momentarily and for a second he thought he’d just spill right there, hearing these words accompanied by the feeling of Haarlep’s hand caressing his jaw. But he knew he wasn’t allowed to and the next moment the hand grabbed his chin and brought his face closer to the skirt in front of him. Compliant, Raphael lifted it, pulling down the studded thong underneath it. He found his face almost slapped by a co*ck of impressive size and -

I had no idea people do that to their lower parts.

The reddened tip of it was pierced vertically with a stud on each the top and the bottom.

“Do you like it? It’s called an apadravya.”

Raphael did not care about what it was called, he cared about testing it with his lips. The metal contrasted with the firm softness of the flesh and the tender skin. Haarlep’s hand wandered around to the back of his head where they grabbed his hair. They did not need to urge him, though, the desire to taste them, to pleasure them and be good was strong. He would earn his reward.

A bit clumsily he licked the drops of salty precum off the tip. Just as with the female shape earlier, feeling Haarlep react encouraged him. As he took the tip between his lips, the piercing clicked against his teeth, but he figured out quickly how to use it to his advantage, licking around the metal balls and nudging them with his tongue. Spit drooled as he tried to take in more of the co*ck, sucking and holding on to Haarlep’s thighs. They used their hand on his head to guide him, slowly increasing the pull on his hair and pressing themselves deeper into him with their hips. The piercing slid over his palate and back into his throat, his whole mouth got filled with hot and throbbing co*ck until he gagged around it.

“It helps if you swallow.”

It did. Swallowing eased the gag reflex and the tension in his jaw. It allowed Haarlep, who had now taken over the control, to thrust deeper. He did his best to cope and just before he gagged again, he felt them shooting their hot cum down his throat, leaving him no choice but to swallow. He kept sucking the co*ck, not ready to leave it just yet until Haarlep picked him up and pinned him against the wall of the booth. They kissed his cheek chastely, whilst sliding their hand back down to his co*ck and whispered: “And now, you’re going to remember.”

“Remember what?” Raphael cringed, the delayed org*sm and the interruption had made him even more sensitive.

“Anything.”

But the only thing that happened when Haarlep started stroking him again was that his mind went blank entirely. He spiraled to his org*sm even faster than before, only to get denied once more. Frustrated he did the only thing he could in this state and bit Haarlep’s shoulder. He heard a change of breath against his ear and realized the incubus stifled a chuckle. They had way too much fun doing this.

“Now, do you want to cum or not? Try it.”

And he did, despite the aching need of his co*ck and also because of it, he reached into the blackness of his mind and tried to pull up something, anything that would help him get relief. A face, red, horned, asking - something - again and again. Denial. He needed to try harder. Him turning around and kissing Haarlep on instinct in front of the frozen yogurt store, their lips meeting as if they had done it a thousand times before, but - That was not quite right.

“I- I never let you kiss me.”

The moment he said it, he was granted his climax. His vision blurred, he twitched and came over Haarlep’s hand, pressing his face against the incubus to not let out a sound.

He took a breath. “And I wore jingly boots.” He blinked and looked up at Haarlep. “Why did I wear jingly boots?”

“I am afraid i can’t answer that”, they said, cleaning up the mess with a tissue.

“Let me.” Raphael magiced the stains away effortlessly.

Haarlep watched. “You’re gaining control of your magic remarkably fast. And about the boot thing, you’ll have to ask Korilla.”

“Korilla. Will she be safe?”

“You’re worrying about her? I am more worried about my car.”

Both of them listened attentively, but the voices outside the booth were gone.

“I’ll change and check if the coast is clear.”

With a subtle shudder of sparks their shape shifted into one of a young woman. The skirt and the crop top fit her just as well. Haarlep left the cabin, then signaled Raphael to follow them. They hastened out of the store, him having to use his magic again as Haarlep’s unpaid clothes caused the detector in the entrance to beep. Somehow they managed to leave the mall without being arrested and somehow the van also still stood where they left it. Korilla jumped out of it as they approached.

“What took you so long? There are cops looking for us. I had to charm them!”

“We know.”

“Why did my boots jingle?”

“What?”

“Forget it.”

For a moment all three stared at each other and Raphael saw the cogs and gears of Korilla’s brain turning. “You found another piece of memory?” Then she grasped what that meant and her face switched to an unamused expression.

“Anyways, we should get out of here”, Haarlep decided.

Probably the first sensible suggestion they had made all day. Raphael flicked his wrist in the direction of the car. The license plate changed from HH:NO 6969 to HR:K 666.

He sat down behind the steering wheel. The sun had set during their stay at the store and only a hint of red was left staining the horizon. Haarlep in their new, smaller shape sat down next to Korilla and then they were on the road again. The music started playing without anyone doing anything.

“The devil opened up his case and said ‘I’ll start this show’

And fire flew from his fingertips as he rosined up his bow.”

“Your boots jingled, because you liked it”, Korilla said after a bit. “You liked expressing yourself as both, a dangerous devil and a gifted bard.”

“A bard … Is that why-?” He gestured towards the radio. At the same time he remembered all the times he had found joy in little made up rhymes and music. I guess that part of me isn’t lost then either. “Maybe I should have bought some bells then”, he joked, but it didn’t sound half as flippant as he had intended.

“Do you miss them, the boots?” The words came from Haarlep, now sitting cross legged on their seat much to Korilla’s annoyance whose space they invaded by doing so.

“Of course not. That’s ridiculous.”

Chapter 13: Shampoo Samples

Chapter Text

It was close to midnight when the yellow van finally turned into the driveway of a shabby roadside hotel. Haarlep, still in their new form, jumped out to book the rooms. In the meantime Korilla collected the remains of their McDonald's meal. Raphael stayed in the car, feeling like his hands might be glued to the steering wheel. After a minute managed to take the last sip out of his third can of cherry co*ke and pressed his palms against his eyes after. It helped just enough for him to be able to exit the car when Haarlep returned.

“Did it work?” Korrilla fumbled her curls out of the straps of her shoulder bag.

“I got us two rooms, no problems.” Haarlep held up two keys, grinning. They still wore the crop top and the mini skirt.

“Good.” Raphael didn't ask why there were only two keys. He just locked the car and shot a look back at it to see that the license plate had changed again: It now read as HO:H 666.

The trio entered a grimey entry hall with a tired eyed woman guarding the front desk. She looked up and smiled at Haarlep as they walked past. Haarlep shot her a wink and Raphael felt a strange tuck behind his ribs. They climbed the staircase - the elevator was out of order- and then they finally found their rooms.

Korilla immediately waved them goodbye and locked the door behind herself. Haarlep and Raphael were left alone in the hallway. The incubus unlocked the door opposite of Korrilla's and flicked the light switch. A dusty old ceiling lamp lit up, emitting a whirring noise.

“Cozy”, Haarlep commented on the small room and dropped on one of the two beds. “You can use the bathroom first.”

Raphael found said bathroom kind of familiar. It had the same special design fitted for contortionists like the one in his old apartment. Also, for some reason there was a hole in the wall. He took a quick shower and brushed his teeth. When he came back he found that Haarlep hadn't moved an inch. Their eyes were closed and their chest rose and fell slowly.

“Are you asleep?”

Immediately they shot up. “No, no! Are you done? Good, then I will go next.”

Raphael watched them disappear and seized the room. It featured two single beds with bedside lamps, a table and one creaky chair, a tv with the note “kaputt” on it and thick green curtains in front of the window. He lifted the curtain and took a peek outside. The view showed the parking lot and the lights of a small town, glowing in the distance.

“Won’t you go to bed?”

Raphael let go of the curtain and saw that Haarlep had come back from the bathroom, now dressed in an oversized shirt with ‘adventure time' print. They slid under the sheets of the bed they had claimed for themselves. Their dark curly hair was tied into a high ponytail and their bare arms showed a few scars.

“Let’s sleep.”

They turned off the ceiling light whilst Raphael hesitantly stripped to his boxers and got into the bed opposite of them. Perhaps they thought one memory a day was enough. Surprising, but not unwelcome - or was it?

They lay in silence, the unfamiliar darkness and the noises of the hotel surrounding them. Raphael found that once his brain was stripped of constant input, his thoughts were spinning. After a while of listening to Haarlep’s breathing, he asked quietly: “Are you awake?”

“No, I am sound asleep.”

“I was wondering … I know you can’t tell me anything about the past, but why didn’t I let you kiss me?”

“You have noticed the effects our last kiss had, didn’t you?”

“It’s an aphrodisiac.”

“And you do like control.”

“I - well, I guess so. Do you mean I was afraid to hand over any slice of control to you?”

“Afraid? Interesting.”

“So that was it? Don’t answer. I know you can’t.”

Raphael fell silent again. He turned. He tossed. The bed felt uncomfortable and itchy. The presence of the incubus on the other side of the room was all-encompassing.

“Haarlep?”

“Hm?”

“Would -? Forget it.”

Instead of an answer he heard the rustling of bedsheets, the sound of bare feet on the floor and then a warm body slid under the duvet next to him. He could feel their breath against his shoulder and their distinct scent of cinnamon filled the space. They did not touch, just lay next to each other and Raphael was sure that they had done this before. Sleeping besides each other, no kiss, no touch, just an incubus sharing the bed of their master.

“Why are you so against Korilla’s plan of asking the hag for help?”

“It is dangerous.”

“More dangerous than you?”

It was quiet for a bit before an answer trailed through the dark.

“You don’t remember them, but hags are tricky. You and I, devils, we make deals and claim people’s souls - but in the end, we are quite straight forward about our intentions. When I ask my meal if they want to hand themselves over to me, there is a certain temptation, yes, but in the end they know what’s going to happen and they consent. With hags you never know where you stand.” Raphael felt a tingle where their hands were on the mattress next to each other. The possibility of a touch felt like the mightiest force in the universe. “You never know what they will take - Oh, they will tell you. They tell you, they want your eye, but what are they going to do with it? Will they lick it and stick it back in? What spell did they place on it? You can’t know until it’s too late.”

“So you don’t like them, because they are different to devils?”

“I don’t want you to get involved with them.” Raphael’s pinky twitched, brushing against Haarlep’s hand, making it look like an accident, but the incubus just caught it in response, as if they'd been waiting for it, letting their hand slide into his.

“I don’t want you to get hurt.” A pause, charged with unspoken words that evaded Raphael. “And you should be careful with Korilla. She wants the old Raphael back, no matter the price.”

He propped up on his elbow, looking down on them. His eyes had adjusted to the lack of light and he saw the delicate curves of their face, their almond shaped eyes with irises that appeared black in the dark. “If I shouldn’t take the deal, why did you want to sleep in separate beds? Go on, make me remember another thing.”

“No.” They turned around as well. “You’re tired and you need rest. We still don’t know how much of a human you are by now. It could be dangerous.”

“Fine.” Raphael laid back down, their thumbs and fingers now caressed each other’s. A careful exploration of a small fragment of their bodies and a dance on the ledge of - something.

“You should sleep.”

“Yes.”

But neither of them did. Haarlep’s hand wandered up his arm, his shoulder, his neck and brushed a strand of hair out of his face as they reached it. Raphael moved a bit closer, letting the small frame rest against his chest, feeling their soft breasts under the shirt and sensing their breath synchronizing with his. He stroked the small of their back and a shiver ran through their body as if they remembered something he had no access to. Their eyes had closed and he could make out a few freckles on their nose. His lips were achingly close to their forehead, but he didn’t dare to kiss it. Their eyes opened again, noticing how he studied their face.

“So this shape pleases you?”

This shape? He left their hand to trace their cheekbones, the angular nose, the lips.

“Do you have a true form?”

“I -” Their breath stopped for a second. “I do.”

“I would like to see it.”

“No.” They shook their head. “No, you don’t.”

“Another time?”

“Maybe.” They nuzzled their head into the gap between his neck and shoulder. Their small curls brushed against his lips. He tried to get comfortable, on arm around Haarlep’s waist.

“Raphael …”

His name only reached him in his dream, as, finally, exhaustion took over.

He woke up once in the middle of the night, finding himself pressed against a much larger back. The skin was red, wings folded and a tail was curled tightly around his ankle. The narrow bed was almost too small for the two of them. Haarlep’s breath was ragged, sweat glistened on their neck and their limbs twitched. The incubus must have shifted in their sleep. Raphael wrapped one of his arms around their chest, breathing a kiss on the hilt of their left wing, feeling them settle until they both fell asleep again.

As he woke again in the morning he was alone. Raphael turned around in the bed, but the entire room was empty, no trace of the incubus. Last night felt like a haze. Had he dreamt it all?

Feeling a bit light headed he got up, used the bathroom, got dressed in his new clothes and pocketed the shampoo samples. Then he ventured downstairs, where he found Korilla in the breakfast hall. She had gone for full english, but Raphael was content with black coffee and a croissant. As he carried his plate back to the table, the warlock looked up from her eggs and sausages.

“Look who's glowing”, she commented sourly, wiping her mouth with the napkin.

“What do you mean? Have you seen Haarlep?” Raphael tore off a piece of the croissant, dipping it into his coffee.

Korilla rolled her eyes. “Rosey cheeks, straightened back, slight smile - It’s been a while since I have seen you like this. Before the whole crown of Karsus affair, I think.”

“The what?” Raphael took a sip of the bitterest coffee he had ever tasted and tried not to think too much about what her words implied.

“The crown of Karsus, to become Archdevil supreme, ruler over the Nine Hells - It doesn’t ring a bell?”

“No.” Raphael let his gaze wander over the other guests. There weren’t many: An older couple, a small group of tired teens and a priest in an ill fitted suit. He was sure he’d recognize by now if one of them was the incubus in disguise. “Sorry, what were you saying?”

“The last months before your … disappearance, you have been obsessed with a group of mortals. You wanted to make a deal, helping them and in return acquire the mighty artifact that would grant you the power to conquer the hells, until - Did they now properly f*ck you brain out tonight or where is your attention? Did you at least remember anything else?”

“What? No! We didn’t even have sex last night.”

Hearing that did not seem to cheer Korilla up in the slightest. On the contrary. Her eyes narrowed. “I have not seen them all morning. I would assume they are hiding - If I even remotely believed that they are capable of anything resembling guilt.”

“Wha-?”

The priest in the suit next to them got up and reached into his pocket.

“Listen”, Korilla said, locking her brown eyes with his. “You can not trust them.”

One second later hell broke loose in the breakfast hall.

Chapter 14: Blood and water

Chapter Text

Haarlep couldn’t remember the House of Hope ever being so quiet. The steps of their bare feet echoed off the singed walls and the slight movement of their wings stirred up flakes of ash. Here and there still glowed embers, scorching Haarlep’s soles as they crossed the floor. They didn’t feel anything. The debtors that normally roamed the halls were either dead, had fled or hid out of sight. Haarlep didn’t care.

They stepped over piles of bodies of infernal creatures, their tail twitching slightly. In the dining hall the bodies lay on and around the rotten food on the table. The floor was wet with blood and water. Haarlep crossed it, too. They didn’t stop. They didn’t look. Their head felt light and their skin numb. Their harness had burned away.

Haarlep's steps slowed, only for a moment, before they pushed the door to the entry hall open. The battlefield was dominated by the remains of Yurgir and numerous cambions. Most of the soul pillars had been crushed. In some of the corners hellfire still licked on the marble floor.

He ascended.

Haarlep went on, circumnavigating the lesser fiends and shooting only a quick look at Korilla, who lay motionless, her eyes closed. They reached the very back of the entry hall, where the light fell through the stained glass windows. And -

There he was. Torn and twisted, bloody and broken. Haarlep came to a halt.

So they had done it.

Down came the claw.

Haarlep lowered themselves slowly, their eyes wandering over the ripped wings, the crushed bones and the broken horns. They reached out and turned his heads around, brushing flakes of ash off them. The orange eyes stared at the ceiling, empty. The fire in his body had burned out. The Raphael in their arms was not in the shape they wore. The shape they had worn for millenia.

Free.

Haarlep took a breath.

Free.

A shiver ran down their spine and in an extension of that movement their body twisted and trembled. Red scales turned to blue, the chin narrowed, the cheekbones softened, their hair grew past their shoulders. The horns twisted in a different way. They lowered their head, unfamiliar with the weight of them. Their hand still cupped the side of Raphael’s middle skull. Suddenly they shivered again. And again.

It didn’t stop.

A drop of clear water hit Raphael’s ribcage. Haarlep doubled over as if they had been stabbed. Sarp pain pierced their chest. It robbed them of air, it robbed them of everything.

The first sound that echoed through the House of Hope that night was a howl. Guttural and animalistic. Pain and disbelief. Grief and anger.

Why did they feel like this? Haarlep crouched over the body, pulling it up, cradling it. Shaking and wanting it all to stop.

Why?

They had given away the hammer. They had taken the body of the person Raphael treasured most and let them go. Letting them run into the master of the house, hoping - Well, flipping a coin on freedom, on revenge, or the demise of the mouse that had gnawed its way too far into Raphael’s skull.

This - This was not what they had expected. Haarlep hated Raphael. Didn’t they?

He deserved it.

Another tear fell.

“Oh, how delightful!”

Haarlep rose abruptly at the sound of the voice behind them, turning around. A small woman had appeared on the other side of the room, bathing in joy. Haarlep stayed quiet.

“You’re alive and you’re free!”

She stepped closer, prancing around the bodies until Haarlep could see her face, the tattoos on it and her light red hair.

“This is my house now, truly. The House of Hope! Isn’t this the happiest day ever?”

“You.” It had been long since they last had seen her. “ You .” They spit the word out as if to make room for the rising fury in their veins, scorching like the hellfire. “I tortured you once.”

“Yes, but you were in shackles, just like me. Now we’re free!” Unbothered, the dwarven woman neared the body of Korilla and knelt at her side. “She’s fine. Just a spell, just a spell. And spells can be broken, right? We will dance again! Oh, but I am out of magic. Sister has to wait. Wait for Hope.”

Haarlep had followed her and waited until she turned around again, getting up from the floor, then their hand shot forward and closed around her throat. They pulled Hope up, yanked her off her feet and threw her across the room. As she tried to get up, Haarlep was already on her again, grabbing her and pulling her up.

“Hope”, they spit in her face, as she squirmed. Haarlep threw her on the ground once more, her head hitting one of the broken soul pillars with an audible crack. Dazed from the impact Hope's gaze flickered, unable to focus anymore. Haarlep bent down and ripped her robe open. They let out a growl as their claws broke through the skin. They were above her now, one knee pinning her body down.

“Where is hope now?” they snarled as they broke open her ribcage with their bare hands. Warm blood flowed down their arms as they reached into the wetness of her body and closed their hand around her pumping heart.

“Where is it?” they cried as they ripped it out and held it in front of her face. Her eyelids fluttered, she was still alive. But not for long. Haarlep tossed her body aside as it became limp. They raised the bloody heart, opened their mouth and devoured it whole.

Then they noticed another small figure standing in the doorway, watching. This one was more familiar. They stalked across the room towards her. The gnome looked up at the towering shape they were in comparison to her, but Haarlep lowered themselves on one knee in front of her. They saw her eyes tracing the unfamiliar wings and horns, the blood that still dripped from their mouth, but she didn’t run away, but stayed and Haarlep smiled. They closed their claws around her throat just as they had done it with Hope before, but this time they were as gentle as they had been forceful. They let the eternal voyeur come closer and pressed a kiss on her lips. Then they rose and looked back at the mess of the entry hall.

“Clean this up and I will wait for you in the boudoir. I am the new master of the house. And this is the best day of my life.”

Chapter 15: Nail clippers

Chapter Text

“In nomine patris et filii et spiritus sancti. Ego te, diabolo, ad inferna, unde exivisti, relego. [In the name of the father, the son and the holy ghost. I banish you, devil to where you came from.]”

The priest held up a silver cross glinting in the light.

Raphael co*cked his head. “Quid? [What?]”

“Audisti me! Vade, satana! In nomine unius ecclesie. [Listen to me! Leave, devil! In the name of the one church.]”

Raphael raised a hand, infernal magic sparked through his body and gathered as a red light at his fingertips. “Quomodo putas te facere posse? [How do you think you’re going to do that?]” he asked with genuine interest.

Korilla showed less patience - or she just never learned to speak infernal - and jumped in front of Raphael, firing an eldritch blast against the priest’s chest. The guests started screaming, but the bolt of red light didn’t hit. It didn’t miss either. It reached the chest of the priest and got absorbed. Korilla stared at him with wide eyes. “Magic”, she whispered.

The screaming around them intensified when the guests, rushing for the exit, got blocked off by three armored men, silver crosses around their chests and machine guns at the ready. The guests dropped on the floor in panic, cowering behind the tables and buffet.

“Solus non sum, diaboli. Dede! [I am not alone, devil. Give up!]”

“Non puto! [I don’t think so!] Arde!”

Raphael’s scorching ray hit all three of the troopers, who now entered the breakfast room and gave them trouble. Apparently they were less protected than the priest, but they had guns. Shots hit the walls and the windows shattered. None of them cared for the civilians.

Raphael pulled Korilla down behind a table, casting a shield that would protect both of them, whilst the warlock, quickly figuring out their enemies weak spots, fired an acid blast against the closest of them. The guy screamed and tried to get the corrosive liquid off himself. He staggered, but only to give space to the priest who, now visibly shielded in faith, raised his own hand.

“Impero tibi!”

Raphael’s mind filled with white noise and the shield he had just summoned fell. The panic he should be feeling only reached him dulled and vague. And there was … There was a presence in his head. The remaining enemies came closer. Korilla managed to dodge their shots, but Raphael, now unable to move at his own will, felt an impact at his side. There was nothing he could do about it. Korilla continued to fire eldritch blasts back at the troopers. The priest prepared to cast another spell, as another person entered the fight through one of the broken windows.

Haarlep.

The incubus gave the scene a quick glance, then their body grew to full devil size, swishing tail and red outstretching wings included. For one moment everyone just stared at them. Then Raphael heard “f*ck” and he saw the teenage girl, who was crouched under the buffet, aim her phone at them.

The priest snapped out of his temporary surprise and gathered his magic anew. “Flagra!”

The bolt zoomed across the room and Haarlep, failing to dodge, suffered burns on their shoulder. The troopers fired at all three of them again. Korilla, being so small, was a difficult target, but Raphael felt another impact. No pain reached him, all he felt was a distant static and the terrifying sensation of being under someone else's command.

Korilla focused her attacks on the acid-covered soldier, succeeding in taking him out, but it was not enough. Not nearly enough. Worst of all, Raphael felt his body move, his magic tingled and against his will, he sent a stream of fire against his own warlock.

Korilla desperately tried to crawl out of reach and failed. The stench of burning hair filled his nose. He fought his own power, trying to do as little harm as possible. After a few far too long moments he fell out of the thrall, numb and disoriented. The same moment pain shot through his body like fire and ice. He staggered, feeling blood stream down his side. A red veil blurred his vision. He blinked it away just in time to see Haarlep targeting the priest.

“You can’t hurt me, devil! I have god’s protection against evil!”

Haarlep shot Raphael a look. It was not concerned, it was not worried - It was a question. Raphael understood and nodded.

Haarlep stretched their wings, flying towards the priest, who held up his cross for protection.

“Vade satanas, me tangere non potes -! [Leave, devil, you can’t touch me -!]”

Haarlep reached the priest, their hands glowed in purple. They reached for him, breaking through the protective spell with ease. Their claws wrapped around the priest's neck, pulling him up.

The troopers now all aimed at Haarlep and shots perforated their wings.

Raphael reached for his magic to rebuild the shield. He expanded it over all three of them. Korilla moaned, wounded and unable to get up. Haarlep pulled the priest flush against their chest. Raphael used his free hand to eliminate a trooper coming close, but his eyes stayed fixated on Haarlep. His incubus bent down, pressing their lips on the priest's unwilling mouth. The man whimpered helplessly, clawing into Haarlep’s back. Raphael watched Haarlep devour the man in their arms. The priest, who was already close to losing his consciousness, his robe bulging between his legs, moaned weakly. Raphael fired another blast at the last trooper without looking and heard a satisfying thumb as he fell.

Haarlep on the other side of the room broke the kiss. “Do you want to be with me? Give me your life and soul so you will be eternally mine?”

“Hngh.” The priest struggled, fighting himself and losing. “Yes, yes, please.” His hands reached for Haarlep’s face, who gave him a small satisfied smile, before granting him one more kiss. Then the priest dropped to the floor, lifeless.

Raphael stepped over Korilla to look down on the body. “Non sum solus vel. [I am not alone, either.]”

Then he turned away from the corpse to assess the aftermath of the battle. Korilla was still conscious, but weak. Her hair was largely missing and one side of her face was bloody open flesh and blisters .

“Does anyone of you know a healing spell?” Raphael asked as he knelt down next to her, trying not to show in how much pain he was himself.

“You're hurt.”

He brushed Haarlep off whose hand tried to touch his shoulder. Raphael would not die in the next few minutes even if it felt like it. Korilla on the other hand was close to losing consciousness and would take any information about what could save them with her.

“My bag of holding … potions ...”

Raphael dragged it out from under her, trying to control the tremor in his hands.

Haarlep took the bag out of his shaking fingers and Raphael didn't even have the strength to fight them. He felt … cold. He sank back, leaning against one of the tables, holding his side and feeling more and more blood oozing out between his fingers. Haarlep dug through Korilla’s bag, spilling its contents everywhere. There were books and papers, quill and ink, a scarf and for some reason far too many nail clippers. One rolled over to him. His eyelids fluttered and his vision blurred.

A nail clipper. If this is the last thing I see …

Suddenly he was upright again.

“Don’t you f*cking dare!”

Raphael felt the mouth of a bottle pressed against his lips and liquid spilling into his mouth. It ran down his throat, rich and sweet. Raphael groaned as his body convulsed. Warmth flooded back into him, his side tingled and itched. The flesh grew back together. In just a few seconds he regained all his senses.

“Are you better?”

“Yes.” Raphael freed himself of the incubus and checked on the wounds. The skin was intact, not a bruise was left. He took a breath, getting up already, still a bit dizzy, but no longer in pain. “The potions? Do we have more?”

“Three smaller ones.”

“Heal Korilla. And yourself.”

Haarlep shot him a look.

“Do it.”

The incubus fed the warlock one of the remaining potions and then drank one themselves.

Raphael remembered that they still had an audience. The older couple had fled, the priest was dead, but the three teenagers were still very much there. And they still captured the whole encounter. Raphael groaned, gritted his teeth in annoyance and walked over to them. “If I see any of this on youtube, I will end you.”

They all looked up, two of them with wide eyes and open mouth, the third muttered “This is so cool.”

The one with the phone found her vocal cords again. “How are you going to know? Once it’s uploaded it’s too late.”

The one with pink hair leaned towards the first, whispering in their ear. “Do you think the old devil knows the internet?”

“I have been around for millenia, you insolent critter. I know the internet . If you upload this, you’ll find that I am closer than you think. I will come knocking at your door.”

His threat only elicited wider eyes and giggling.

“Promise??”

The pink haired one snickered.

That was more than he could endure in his current state. He snatched the phone out of their paw just before Haarlep appeared behind him. Raphael sent out a small stream of fire and fried the device in his hand, before giving it back to them.

“Rude.”

Haarlep watched the scenario from above his shoulder, now bending down slightly. “Shoo.”

Eventually they scurried.

Raphael checked on Korilla and saw that she sat upright. Her hair was still burnt and the skin on one side of her face was not an open wound anymore where his fire had singed her, but still red and uneven.

“It was not enough”, Haarlep explained.

Raphael noticed that one bottle was still full. He reached for it to restore Korilla, but Haarlep stopped him. “We only have one left.”

He hesitated.

“What if we go outside and the next attack force is already waiting for us? We might need it to stay alive.”

Raphael thought about it for a moment longer, then pocketed the flask. Korilla didn’t react, she just sat there, touching the remains of her hair and the bright red scarring with tears in her eyes.

“My face is ruined”, she whispered.

Haarlep patted her shoulder. It showed how deep in distress she was that she didn’t even react. “You look better now, In my opinion”, they said. “At least interesting. The haircut is also nice, kind of … cheeky.”

“The most important thing is that you’re not dying anymore”, Raphael commented. “We will find you a healer.” He stretched out his hand and helped her to stand up. “The hair will grow back.”

Then he shot his incubus a look. “You are alright?”

“I was less injured than you two.” They stretched out their wings to show that they were hole-free. Without thinking Raphael ran his fingers over the delicate skin. Red and … familiar. Haarlep’s devil form … Not their true form apparently, but there was something about it. Something about the shape of the chin and the cheekbones …

“Is this -” He gesticulated at their body. “Is that me ?”

“Almost.” Haarlep admitted, then clenched their jaw as if they were close to saying something they mustn’t.

“You have been running around in my devil shape? Why is my nose straighter? Why does it look younger? Is this -” Raphael tried to recall what he knew about his past self. What he had learned so far was not really pleasant, but it painted a picture. “I made you wear my shape?”

“When I make love in someone’s shape, they can feel it”, the incubus revealed. Apparently that was the way they talked about the past now. Haarlep provided some general information and let Raphael come to his own conclusions.

“Double the pleasure …” Raphael muttered to himself. Double the pleasure whilst looking at himself … That had a nice ring to it, he couldn’t deny it. Who else besides himself could have been interesting enough to spend his nights with? He stored it in his mind as one of his brighter ideas and looked down on himself. The new clothes were no more than rags drenched with his own blood. He wondered …

A shudder of sparks and he was dressed anew in a pair of well fitted jeans, a comfortable white shirt and a blazer in light beige. He raised his eyebrows. Who would have thought that magic could be so convenient. Though, his past self should have bothered to learn at least one healing spell. “We musn’t waste more time. Come.”

The trio staggered out of the hotel. When they reached the parking lot, they heard police sirens in the distance.

“Are you good to drive? Or shall I?” Haarlep seized Raphael whilst they helped Korilla on the passenger seat. They had shifted back into the shape of the young man with the piercings that Raphael was already familiar with.

“I didn’t survive the battle just to die in traffic!” Korilla protested weakly.

Raphael agreed and entered the car on the driver’s side. He started the engine and the yellow van (the license plate now said: SH:IT 111) drove out of the hotel’s parking lot.

Chapter 16: Wet wipes

Chapter Text

“What in the nine hells was that?”

It was Korilla putting into words what everyone was thinking. Her voice was still weak, but she claimed she was not in pain anymore. Raphael drove the car, shooting a paranoid look at the back mirror every few minutes. He had changed the car’s appearance magically five times by now, but he feared that whoever was after them might be able to see through the spell. And they were forced to take detours constantly, because suspicious black cars kept blocking the roads ahead.

“I - I am not sure. I didn’t even know clerics could use magic in this plane”, Haarlep admitted. Their hand had joined Raphael’s on his thigh. “They taste awful .”

Their thumb brushed over the back of his. Raphael freed his hand to switch gears. “What do you know about this plane? Who is it that is after us and why? I think it’s clear by now that it’s not the regular police alone.”

“They knew Raphael is a devil and came prepared. Haarlep? Any explanations?” Korilla’s unburnt cheek slowly gained back some color.

“Seriously, I have no idea! Why are there armed forces attacking us? And why do they work with priests?” Haarlep combed through their hair in desperation, then grabbed a bag of sweets from the dashboard.

“Do we even know for sure that they worked together?” Korilla asked.

“He said ‘I am not alone.’ I think that is pretty clear,” Raphael answered.

“But why does a priest hire troopers to hunt down a devil who has done absolutely nothing wrong?” Haarlep chimed in.

Raphael looked at them. “We have killed four people.”

“Yes, but that was after they attacked us. What did we do before?”

“Robbing a gas station.”

"Arson."

“Sexually assaulting the clerk.”

“Shoplifting.”

“Running a scam business for a delivery service.”

“Hey!”

“All of that aside”, Raphael said, reaching for a can of cherry co*ke. “It’s not reason enough to try and kill us in an open assault in front of regular humans. The reason must be that I am a devil. And they came prepared for that.”

“Oh.” Haarlep let out, staring blankly out of the front window. “So there was a reason this world was uninhabited by devils. I thought it was free for the taking.”

Korilla groaned in desperation over this portrayal of naivete.

“ Someone appears to have a special force to hunt down devils. That’s … not good”, they summarized.

“Just devils or other beings, too?” Korilla inquired. “The hag seems to do well and, as much as I hate to admit it, Haarlep is the only reason we’re still alive. They were not prepared for them.”

“Nobody expects an incubus.”

Korilla hit her hand on the dashboard. “Well, now they do. We lost our only advantage: the element of surprise.”

For a moment it was quiet in the car. Then, sound music started playing again.

“Life's made of trouble,

Worry, pain and struggle

She wrote 'good bye' in the dust on the hood …”

“I'll say it again”, Korilla went on. “We need to talk to the hag. Urgently and -” She checked the back mirror. “We mustn't idle anymore. The moment we stop, they could find us.”

“I can’t see them right now”, Raphael updated his passengers. “But you’re right. We definitely can’t check into a hotel anymore. Only that it’s impossible to get that far in one go - especially with all the detours I am forced to take.”

“You’ll have to try.”

“sh*t.” Raphael emptied the co*ke.

A few hours later they turned into the drive through of a fast food restaurant. Two out of the three people in the car were unable to live off love alone so they decided to risk it.

“Welcome to Burger King, what is your order?”

Korilla was ordered with some fries and a chicken burger, Raphael was so hungry and took one of the menus. Just as he answered which drink he wanted, Haarlep leaned over him and, trying to get a closer look on the menu, practically crawled over Raphael’s lap and halfway out of the window.

“What are you -? You don’t even need to eat!” Raphael hissed at the butt in front of his face.

Korilla on the other side pretended to be sick. Unbothered by both, Haarlep ordered chicken nuggets and ice cream and took their time climbing back on their own seat.

It was dangerous to have them so close. The fabric of their sweater brushed against Raphael’s skin and he caught a hint of their distinct smell of cinnamon. The urge to pull them close and kiss them dared to overwhelm him. Just as he considered giving into it, they slipped back into their seat with the acquired paper bags.

“We can't go in, but I am going to park in this spot there, across the street”, Raphael announced.

“Why?”

“Because I can't eat and drive.”

“I could feed you”, Haarlep took a nugget out of their bag and let it dangle in front of Raphael’s lips.

“Over my dead body.” He brushed it aside. “And I risk a cramp in my legs if I can't get any breaks.”

“Fine”, Korilla agreed and Raphael stopped the car.

Getting rid of the seatbelt was divine, even if it was just for a moment. He wouldn't risk getting out of the car, but at least he was able to roll his neck and stretch his fingers. Then Raphael opened his bag with the food, only to find a yellow paper crown on top of it. He pulled it out, sending Haarlep into a laughing fit that dared to make them fall off their seat and melt into a pile on the floor.

Raphael held the crown up with pointed fingers and shot his incubus a displeased look. Then he remembered why they might be laughing. “A yes, the crown of Krassus.”

Haarlep laughed so hard they choked, but Korilla's face burned with anger.

“Shut it!”, she shot at Haarlep so sharply they actually fell silent. “It's called the crown of Karsus.”

“Oh yes, the thing that would grant me the ability to conquer the hells.” Raphael wondered why he’d ever want that. But it would come back, wouldn't it? Once he regained his memories.

“The ‘thing’ that has entangled your mind to a point you became careless around the person that was supposed to deliver it to you. You should have known when they refused your deal.”

“Was it a bad deal?”

“Actually, as far as I know it was fair. They get an artifact they need and you receive the artifact you need.”

“Potential danger of you dominating the world aside,” Haarlep chimed in.

“I -” Raphael decided it was probably better he didn’t admit that he had no idea why he ever desired the domination of nine hells and another plane. It was hard enough to just find a spot in this one world to fit in. The idea of having the control was alluring still, but executing ? It sounded incredibly overwhelming to him now. Instead he made better use of his time by indulging in the burger.

Korilla ate her fries without any condiments and Haarlep dipped their nuggets in their ice cream. In hindsight Raphael found he was very lucky he made it through the burger and half of his fries before a woman popped up in front of the window out of nowhere and tapped against the glass. Raphael recognized her as one of the fast food workers. Her long braided ponytail fell over her shoulder. Raphael immediately let go of his food to start the car, only to notice there was ketchup on his fingers. “I need wet wipes.”

“We do have some!” Haarlep turned around to search the compartments.

Korilla stared at the woman who now gesticulated wildly. “She says … She says we’re in danger. Open the window.”

“You can read that? And you trust her?” Haarlep sounded suspicious.

“We can still run her over if needed.”

That was blunt enough to make even Haarlep shut up. Raphael obliged and opened the window.

“Finally”, the woman said. “Listen, are you the devil?”

Raphael blinked.

“It’s fine, I am - Well, what does it matter? You need to leave. There’s police searching the restaurant. I barely managed to sneak out.”

Raphael started the car, but hesitated. “Why would you warn us?”

The woman looked up at him. “You are a devil. I am - Let’s say I am a friend. Take my warning and leave.”

Raphael nodded.

The woman turned to leave, but then changed her mind and came back. She pulled out a card and handed it to him. “If you ever need help.” Then she stepped aside.

They drove off the moment the first black car appeared on the other side of the road. Haarlep picked up the card that Raphael had dropped when he needed to grab both the steering wheel and the shift.

“Korilla, how do you know sign language?” Haarlep wanted to know, whilst inspecting the piece of paper.

“My mother had impaired hearing. What does it say? Let me have a look!”

Haarlep snorted and handed the card over to her. “You’ll not find anything. It’s blank, except for the few stains of ketchup our master left there.”

Raphael rolled his eyes, but nobody saw it.

They didn’t dare to stop again. They just drove. So many small towns and fields passed by outside the window that they all started to blur into each other. Still they had to take detours often. Lastly they were forced to drive into the wrong direction for two hours just to avoid a fallen lamp post suspiciously blocking the street. When night fell, Raphael was four cherry co*kes and one red bull into caffeine delirium and for some reason he wore the cardboard crown. Korilla and Haarlep had both fallen asleep, laying on each other in a way they would never do awake. Raphael shot them a look.

Korilla seemed much better than before and Haarlep - The incubus twitched in their sleep. Raphael wondered if they would unconsciously change shape again. Then he pulled his attention back to the road, just to notice with painful suddenness that he was about to steer the car into the ditch. He yanked the wheel around and saved them, but the sudden motion woke Haarlep.

“Are we there yet?” They yawned. Then, regaining full consciousness, they noticed the position they were in and shoved Korilla off themselves, back into her own seat. The warlock just let out a small snore. “Completely knocked out”, Haarlep commented and shook their head.

“She’s wounded.”

Raphael’s words drew their attention back to him. “What’s up?”

“Nothing.” Raphael struggled to keep his eyes open.

Suddenly startled Haarlep shot upright and brushed their messy hair back. “You’re falling asleep aren’t you? sh*t! Damn you, Korilla. You cannot possibly drive that long. We need to stop.”

Raphael let out a small laugh. “I can’t. Look into the back mirror. Look, who’s on our tail again. We can’t even stop to switch drivers right now. I need to stay awake.”

“You still got co*ke?”

Raphael held up the empty can. “It’s okay. It’s better now that I can talk with you. Keeps me up.”

Haarlep seized him, then they shook their head. “I might be able to help you better than that.”

Raphael shot a quick look to the side. “Oh no, not that look.” Though all of his body said: Oh yes, that look. Even in his tired delirious state it did not fail to shoot a tingle down his spine and between his legs.

Haarlep smiled. “Oh no, not that reaction”, they mocked and Raphael remembered they could feel it when someone was aroused. “Come on. Let me help whilst you drive us somewhere they won't find us. Then we’ll rest. It’s a terrible idea to knock at the hag’s door barely conscious because of sleep deprivation.”

“ This is a bad idea”, Raphael argued, but he knew he didn’t stand a chance. He could only hope Korilla stayed sound asleep and that their pursuers wouldn’t expect them to leave the main road.

Haarlep reached over and the brush of their fingers against his crotch to open the fly was enough to wake him up. Raphael switched off the headlights to make it more difficult for the other car to follow them.

Haarlep’s fingers stroked and teased until his co*ck strained his briefs. Then they pulled back. “Let me switch into something more comfortable for this.” With a shiver they became smaller and their hair grew out in tight curls. They now wore the same shape as last night. The incubus tied their hair back and freed Raphael’s co*ck. “Recline your seat a bit.”

“Why -? Oh no, you can’t be serious, stop that!”

Haarlep slipped halfway off their seat, bending around the shift in a position that looked quite uncomfortable. “You stay with your eyes on the road.”

Luckily Raphael as a devil was able to see in the dark, but that didn’t mean other cars could see him . He took an unexpected turn just when Haarlep’s lips touched him. “Oh, f*ck you.”

“No, you.” Their tongue, now slimmer than the ones Raphael had felt before, played with his tip, dipping into the small drops of precum gathering there and licking over the underside of the glans.

“I really hope Korilla stays asleep.”

“Don’t worry, keep driving.”

And, because he for some reason always ended up doing what his incubus said, he did just that. It was hard enough to focus on the road when their lips closed around him without worrying about his warlock as well. Haarlep took him slow, letting him in and out of their warm mouth inch per inch. Raphael felt their tongue press against the whole length of his shaft and for a second he looked down to see them crouching there, their head in his lap. He took two more turns to get away from civilization and into the middle-of-nowhere. Occasionally he checked the back mirror. The black car was out of sight for now, but of course he couldn’t trust them not to find them again just yet.

Korilla started snoring quietly and Raphael relaxed. Just a few more miles …

A sudden sucking on his co*ck shot him back upright. Haarlep bobbed their head a few times, mumbling something that sounded like a scolding. The vibrations caused by their voice crawled up Raphael’s spine. Then Haarlep slowed down again. They played with their tongue and made small sucking movements, but nothing that would get him closer to finish. Raphael figured they didn’t want to risk letting him come and crashing the car. Only when he was close to drifting off, they upped their speed.

That must be the slowest road head in history.

Every time when Raphael had to switch gears he brushed against Haarlep’s side and their breasts. Raphael took another turn to enter a forest and dared to switch the lights back on to end up running over an animal. His hand left the shift to grab the wheel, but Haarlep took the opportunity to take him in further and Raphale stopped halfway into the movement, stroking across their back instead and ending up with his fingers entangled in their hair. He could feel them chuckle and in turn diving down deeper until their nose pressed against his skin and he couldn’t help but counter the movement with his hips. Haarlep indulged him, sliding up and down his co*ck, still slow but rather determined now. Raphael’s grip in their hair tightened. Then there was a sudden bump in the road and he could feel Haarlep’s teeth, the jolt almost causing them to bite down.

“Hng!”

The incubus pulled back. “sh*t.” They looked up. “Are they gone?”

“I think so.”

“Then stop.” Their voice was hoarse and they bit their lip. Raphael did as they said and on top switched off the lights again. The instant the engine stopped, Haarlep dove back down into his lap.

Raphael tipped his head. Free of the responsibility of driving he let his free hand explore the slim but strong back of this shape. Haarlep crawled closer, their movements becoming faster. It was the eagerness of them that caused Raphael’s hand to wrap around their neck and pull them down on his co*ck. Haarlep’s breath got ragged and Raphael bit his lips to not make a sound when the heat in his loins coiled. He thrusted upwards as far as possible and released into their mouth. Feeling them swallow was the sweetest thing in the universe. Calming their breath, Haarlep emerged from his lap, smiling and Raphael -

The feeling of all-encompassing betrayal. How he had hoped that the mouse, his mouse, could give him what he desired. He had even bet some soul coins on it. And now they stood over him and their weapon pierced his chest … He pulled it out, growing and growing, flames bursting out of his body and only one thing was left in his mind: Rage.

“Raphael?”

“I -” He blinked to regain control of his senses. “They betrayed me.”

“Who?”

“Tav.”

For a moment they stared at each other, then a third voice chimed in: “I guess it’s settled now that Raphael remembers things when he is under stress.” Haarlep and Raphael turned to see Korilla had woken up and looked emphatically in the other direction. “Still, the little fragments are not enough. Once you closed your pants could you please tell me where the f*ck we are. And -“ She picked something out of the glove department and handed it over, shielding her eyes. “- take some wipes for hell's sake.”

Chapter 17: Toothpaste

Chapter Text

At first instant Raphael didn’t know where he was. Everything was dark and the only thing he could feel was that he was laying on a mattress with a blanket thrown over him. He remembered stopping the car… getting out, or more like stumbling out. A clearing. They had stopped the car in the middle of the woods and set up a camp. Korilla started a fire whilst Raphael sat on the ground drifting in and out of sleep, so tired he was barely conscious. Finally Haarlep had put him to bed. And now he was cozy in the back of the van on a makeshift bed.

“Haarlep?”

Raphael sat up and found his incubus sitting on the foot end of the mattress, their back turned towards him. They were in fiend shape again - his shape -, the red wings almost touching the ceiling.

When they heard his voice, they turned around, orange eyes glowing in the dark.

“Go back to sleep.”

Raphael shook his head. “I am awake.”

Haarlep sighed and turned back, away from him.

“What’s keeping you up?”

“I can’t tell you, even if I believed you actually wanted to know.”

Raphael pulled the blanket off himself and got on his knees, closer to them. He hesitated, then placed a hand on the space between their wings. When Haarlep turned their head, they looked so torn and conflicted, it caused something heavy to sink into Raphael’s stomach. Then, without a word they crawled over him, urging him back on the mattress. Their movements were smooth like usual. The movements of a dancer or a big cat.

Haarlep cowered over his body, looking down on him, seizing him, before they asked: “You said you wanted to see my true form. Do you still?”

“Of course I do.”

Haarlep paused for a moment, then they commanded: “Close your eyes.”

Raphael did as told and just a moment later he felt the soft pressure of their lips against his. Responding to the kiss he tried to meet their tongue, but Haarlep denied. Raphael understood. They wanted to exchange as little saliva as possible to keep him clear headed. They stayed for a moment, then a wave of heat and the faint smell of sulfur washed over them. Haarlep switched shape. Not having the permission to open his eyes, Raphael lifted his hand off the mattress and feeling for theirs. He found claws and slender fingers. He let his hand travel up their arm to their shoulder. The skin didn’t seem much different, scaly and silky still, only the ridges felt more pronounced. He explored every one of them, following their trails up Haarlep’s arm to the hilt of their wings, and down their curved back... When he touched their spine Haarlep shivered slightly. Raphael remembered this reaction. Again he wondered what memory might be linked to him touching the small of their back that he had forgotten.

He cupped their face with his palm. “May I?”

A nod.

Raphael broke the kiss and opened his eyes. Haarlep sat unmoving, their eyes closed and their lips pressed together. Haarlep was tall, but not as tall as his own fiend shape. Their skin tone ranged from shades of sapphire to azure. Their body was slender, toned and androgynous, their face pointed with a long straight nose. Long hair cascaded over their shoulders in dark waves, held back by a pair of elegantly curved horns.

Why did I never see this? They are beautiful.

Carefully Raphael touched the angled cheekbones. They featured ridges too, barely visible, just the slightest bumps under his fingertips. Haarlep leaned into the touch without opening their eyes.

“Would you-” Hells, why was this so hard? “Could you look at me? Please?”

Haarlep blinked and looked at him, revealing yet a different shade of blue. Cyan or aqua. He examined them closer and saw that they had the same ring parting the iris he did, but the flickering flames around the pupils were silver.

“I don’t mind any of your shapes, but this one …” He watched the long black lashes close and open like the wings of a butterfly. He drank in the shape of their nose, the wide mouth and discovered a hint of freckles on their skin. “Thank you for showing me.”

Their tail was the only thing moving, flicking nervously behind them. Raphael sat up until they were both on their knees close to each other. He lifted his chin, placing a kiss on their lips. Their true lips. For a few heartbeats he was afraid that Haarlep would pull back. Both knelt unmoving, suddenly afraid to touch and be touched, caught in a moment fragile like a glass ornament. Raphael hated everything about how he felt. Nervous, open … breakable.

It was Haarlep who shattered it. They tilted their head, kissing him on the mouth, devouring him, eager and desperate. At the same time they grabbed Raphael’s hips and urged him down on the mattress.

Instinctively Raphael grabbed their shoulder, holding on to it. Haarlep intertwined their fingers with his on the other hand and forced it down next to his head. They were on top of him, their wings caging him and Raphael already felt a knee spreading his legs. Freeing his trapped hand he stopped them. Instead he looked into their eyes. “Let me - Let me feel you.”

“You will feel me, don’t worry there”, they mocked. They moved their thigh against his crotch. “Isn’t that what you want?”

Raphael paused for a moment, biting back the temptation to just take the broad and easy path and be fine with it. “No. Not today.” And before he could question his reasons or his abilities or anything that made this a bad idea, he changed position to lay beside Haarlep.

Something had changed over the last few days, somewhere between dental floss and frozen yogurt, country playlists and a dead priest. Something felt different in this liminal space in the back of the van. Maybe they could be something different as well… For a single brief moment, Raphael wished.

Carefully he reached out to touch their cheek again, drawing a line down their nose and back along their jawline. Haarlep let him, observing each of his moves with bright eyes. On a sudden whim Raphael brushed back a strand of their hair. Haarlep’s ears were pointed, but smaller than in their cambion shape. Somehow touched by this detail, he breathed a kiss on it.

Haarlep gasped “... tickles.”

Raphael left the ear and went back for the lips, studying how they parted under his fingers. Their shape was more narrow than one might expect for an incubus, but Raphael found he liked it. The two small tips of their tongue dipped out between them, nudging against his fingertips. Raphael trailed down their body, delving into the delicate curve of their collarbones, following the trail of their ridges down their arm and up again. Their chest was flat, the waist accentuated. Their nipples featured a shade of darker blue. He closed the gap between them and brought his lips and tongue to them. Watching Haarlep arched their head back and close their eyes in response sent a warm shiver down his spine. Raphael leaned forward and kissed them again, without tongue, just lips brushing over each other, nibbling and biting. At the same time, his hands continued the mapping of their body, adding the landmarks of their back and wings, until he got temporarily distracted when he placed a love bite on their trapezius and Haarlep lied down, practically melting into the mattress. Raphael took advantage of the body parts that were now accessible. He kissed and caressed his way down until he lost focus for a moment, when he realized that Haarlep, in their graceful and imposing true form, still wore the gray sweatpants they went to bed with.

On the other hand … For hell's sake, why not. He had seen weirder things over the last couple of days.

And the way the fabric stretches over their hips with the visible bulge just below …

It was very tempting and for once he had no reason to hold back. A short look up at Haarlep’s face for reassurance and he dove down, placing his lips on it right away, exploring the hardening length through a layer of fabric. Raphael felt his own co*ck straining his briefs, but he didn’t pay attention to it. Instead, he went back up a bit and tasted the skin just above the waistband, followed the ridges above their hip bones and came back to let his tongue draw a circle around their navel.

A whimper. So quiet and suppressed he would almost have missed it. Raphael repeated the action. A small whine.

The hilt of the wings, the ears, the nipples and apparently also their tummy. What if- ?

Wondering what reactions he might elicit, he kissed and licked Haarlep’s abdomen, whilst stroking their length with his free hand until a wet spot stained the sweatpants.

“Raphael -”

Raphael stopped just there and crawled back up, tumbling into another kiss and another until they grew heated and blurred into each other. Raphael’s hands slid the sweatpants down and Haarlep helped until they were finally gone. In return, he lost his briefs. Their making out became a tumble, first Raphael was on top, then Haarlep. When they finally gasped for breath, Haarlep sat on him and they looked magnificent.

Raphael opened his mouth, but for once the words eluded him. What rhymes could suffice when every ridge of their skin was a verse? When the curve of their horns spoke more insistently than any stylistic device? When the only metre that mattered was the rhythm of their breath?

He brought his hands on their thigh, astounded by the impressions his fingers made. Their co*ck laid on his belly in an intricate shade of purplish blue, slightly pointed at the tip and with ridges, too, and veins running down to the hilt, creating a pattern of delectable bumps and trenches that Raphael was unable to keep his hands off. Watching them arch and tense and shiver under his touch had his co*ck pressing desperately against their ass.

Haarlep leaned forward, another kiss, another embrace, whispering words he barely understood.

“f*ck me.”

A breathless nod. “Yes.”

All coherent thinking was abandoned when Haarlep sat back up. In a movement that probably only an incubus could pull off, they aligned themselves with his co*ck. Raphael’s heart beat so intensely that blood thrummed in his ears. His fingers dug into the soft skin on their thighs, but Haarlep stayed put, just above the point he would enter. Raphael rolled his hips upwards. It closed the gap between them just enough to breach them. He met a warm wetness that, if he had a single logical thought left to him, he knew had to be part of their incubus nature.

Haarlep sighed, but it was not enough. Raphael brought both his hands to their hips, repeated the movement and pressed them down on his co*ck. It took barely any pressure to enter them. Then Haarlep sat on top of him, taking him fully. Their wings unfolded and their tail curled behind them, whilst their hair fell down their front, their silvery blue eyes fixated on him. Graceful, powerful and no less of a menace than ever, even though now only small moans rolled over their forked tongue. Raphael pulled them into a rhythm, countering the up and down of their hips with his own thrusts.

Haarlep bent forward, their face close to his, their hair falling over him like a veil.

My incubus.

He reached in between them, stroking them, teasing their balls, never stopping to drive into them. Slower, faster… Haarlep’s face buried into his neck and he embraced them with his free arm. Their co*ck flush against his tummy. How close it felt. So close.

Them, a swirl of ragged breathing, moaning, trembles and twitching, salt and sweat, cherries and cinnamon.

“Raphael...”

“Haarlep.”

He felt their co*ck twitching against his abdomen, their muscles contracting around him. He pulled them closer, closer, closer, so when their climax dragged him over the edge with them he spilled as deep inside as possible.

Afterwards there was skin against skin. Haarlep lying flush on top of him. Raphael’s hand stroking their back between their wings. A thin layer of sweat drying on both of them. A kiss, cautious and loaden with the new intimacy, stretching out into what felt like eternity.

Raphael cleaned them with magic, but neither of them cared about mundane details. They fell asleep in each other's arms.

Morning came, inevitably. But whilst the midnight sky faded to a pale blue other things stayed. When Raphael woke up, Haarlep was still there, their head on his chest, the tail wrapped around his ankle. He brushed a strand of the raven hair out away and they stirred - groaning.

“Why are you always up so early? Ugh.” They peeled themselves out of the embrace, sitting up. Then a jolt rushed through their body. “Oh … It’s hag day, isn’t it?”

“If we don’t get blocked off again, we should reach her lair today.”

“You’re gonna get your memories back …” Haarlep mumbled.

“Hopefully.” Raphael found that his hand still lingered on their waist. “We mustn’t idle. It’s lucky enough nobody found us during the night.” He opened the back door of the van further and cool morning air streamed in. With a flick of his wrist he was clothed. Then he looked back just to see Haarlep shift into one of their preferred human shapes, the tall young man. They dug through their stuff in the back, clothing themselves manually and producing their toothbrushes.

When they stepped outside, Korilla was already up, poking in the embers of their campfire. She had slept outside, claiming she’d rather die than share a space with both Raphael and Haarlep, then mocking that someone would need to cast silence over the van. Raphael wondered if she did. They brushed their teeth with bottled water, then sat down on the ground next to the warlock. Haarlep was glued to Raphael’s shoulder and without thinking he reached for their hand to hold it. They shared a quick mint flavored kiss.

“Do you know where exactly we are?” Korilla asked, ignoring all of what was going on between them.

Raphael left Haarlep’s hand and pulled out his phone, searching for their location. Remembering the map Korilla had shown them, he concluded: “We are closer than I thought. The last road block and driving into the woods brought us almost into hag territory. About one hour to the west I’d say.”

He felt Haarlep tense at his side.

“What if the hag doesn’t help?” the incubus asked. “What if she can’t? What if her price is too high?”

Korilla’s brown eyes lit up as she answered. “I will pay any price to get Raphael back.”

“The Raphael you know you mean. The one who only cared for power. What if he doesn’t want to?”

“He will. He fell for co*cky words and empty promises before and he remembers how it ended.”

“Are you talking about Tav? The one … who killed me?” Raphael interrupted them, breaching the atmosphere loaded with static between his warlock and his incubus.

“Yes … Do you remember how sure you were they would come around after they refused the contract initially? How you didn’t falter, even when the final battle neared?””

“No. None of that.”

“I do. And they do, too.”

“I war-!” Haarlep broke off, pressing their teeth together, unable to say one more word. Raphael held their hand tighter.

“But you do remember how it felt when you realized they broke into the House of Hope, you said it yesterday. Tav violated everything dear to you, they freed my useless sister, they stole the contract … and when you came home, they killed you.”

Yes, that Raphael remembered. Yesterday the fury in his veins and the tiredness of his body had covered the underlying deeper emotions. Now he remembered the disgust, the scare, the overwhelming disappointment. Not only about Tav, but himself, too. How could he start to trust them?

Korilla got up. She was not much taller than sitting down, but her shoulder’s straightened and she raised her chin. “I have been quiet and watching whatever this is -” She gestured towards Raphael’s and Haarlep’s joined hands “- far too long, hoping our master would come to the right conclusions on his own. But I can’t any more. Not when we are going to meet the hag.”

“Korilla!”

“Shut up, Haarlep. He has a right to know.”

A chill ran down Raphael’s spine when Haarlep actually shut up. Frozen in place he looked up to his warlock.

“There was a weapon you offered the adventurers in return for the crown of Karsus. The orphic hammer. When Tav broke into your home they encountered no resistance. Instead your incubus welcomed them with open arms. They gave away the Orphic hammer in return for nothing but their shape. They betrayed you. It was them who got you killed.”

Korilla’s words turned into a blur in his head. They betrayed you. They got you killed... With numb limbs he left the hand of his incubus, standing up, stepping away from them whilst looking down on their figure. Don’t dare to think about last night.

“Is that true?”

The clenched jaw of theirs was every answer. Raphael took another step back.

Maybe there was one thing worse than hope: l- trust.

He could see Haarlep fighting for words, but only four left their lips. “I am so sorry.”

When Raphael didn’t react and instead just kept looking at them, his incubus, seeing not the human disguise but their true form, everything they had built up broke.

“Get away from me. Don’t dare speak to me.”

Raphael stumbled towards the van, pulling the door open, stopping and leaning his head against the cold metal. In close distance he could hear Korilla and Haarlep fighting.

“I am not leaving him -”

He stayed for a few moments longer, then he got in and sat in the driver's seat. He could still taste the toothpaste of their last kiss on his lips.

Chapter 18: Healing Pool

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Haarlep removed their hand from their side. There was no use in continuously touching the wounds. They needed to go into the healing pool and wash them off to emerge as fresh and ready as Raphael would need them to be for the next client. Who were they kidding? There hadn’t been any clients for weeks. Only Raphael - and with every visit he grew more disgruntled and granted them less of his pleasure. Haarlep hadn’t thought there would be a time they'd actually prefer for Raphael to ignore them. That they’d wish for him to stay away instead of coming to them, mocking them about their hunger, their weakness, their desperation to get anything from him, be it just a crumb.

Haarlep’s claw traced a deep red line of dried blood on their thigh.

Raphael never follows through with his threats. Until now.

It was all the fault of that one mortal. Raphael claimed himself being the cat, but in reality the mouse had him in their claws, toying with him, twisting his mind until he lashed out and then broke down at his desk after revising their contract for hours - the contract said mortal still didn’t sign.

Last night Haarlep had tried to get through to him. They could feel his need to be comforted, to be taken care of - the same need he’d denied them since their first meeting, but more intense than ever. Haarlep had ignored the searing pain in their joints, the cramping of their stomach that could not be soothed by material food, and walked up to him. The clawed hand that touched Raphael’s shoulder was gentle. “Do you need something, Raphael?”

“Get off me, incubus.” Raphael had shot at them after he had lifted his head off the table where he had broken down, brushing their hand away. “If I had use for you, I’d let you know.”

Haarlep stood there, uncertain about what to do, their eyes wandering over the dark circles and the stubble on their master’s face. “You know I could help you take the load off”, they said finally, circling him. “Relieve the stress, make you forget …”

Unconsciously, they had slipped in their seductive voice. What other way was there to get closer to him?

“I don’t need relief and you’re not getting any either until my mouse is finally caught in my trap!”

With these words, Raphael grabbed their wrist painfully and bent it away from himself. Haarlep hesitated. It was rare that Raphael handled them in a dominant way like this, but if that was what he needed …? Another sear of painful hunger shot through them, stripping away more of their strength and their bare essence. Raphael could see it in their eyes.

“Are you starving?”, he asked.

Reluctantly Haarlep nodded. Maybe, if he saw the need, he would-

“Good. You deserve this. It might even shut your mouth until the deal is sealed.” Raphael let them free and a spark of anger lit up in Haarlep. Was ist anger? Or something more dangerous?

“Maybe you will even learn that it is not you who decides what you get. I doubt it, though. You had millenia and they showed no effect.”

At least mocking them brought a spark of life back into Raphael’s eyes. Haarlep’s insides turned and twisted, but Raphael had already gone back to his contract. They could hear him mutter.

“I could remove this clause, then they might - But I need-”

Against better judgment Haarlep stepped closer again, tempted to lay their hands on his small human shoulders, digging their thumbs in the tense muscles.

“Don’t touch me! You’re not getting anything from me tonight.”

Haarlep twitched back. The spark in their gut grew to a flame and it set something in them on fire they had contained for weeks.

“Why is that mortal so important to you? Why are you so convinced you need them? Yes, the crown, but don’t you see what they are doing to you? The sorry state you are in, bent to the will of a mouse that’s supposed to be crushed under your heel! They are playing with you.”

Raphael rose. “Say that again.”

Raphael never follows through with his threats.

“You cannot depend on the whims of a mortal, bowing to them. You’re better than that.”

“Questioning my decisions?”

Haarlep noticed the danger too late. “Open your eyes, Raphael, please. You need to -”

Raphael grabbed the straps of their harness, the runes on the leather lighting up under his touch. “You think you can tell me what to do? You think you know better what is good for me than I do myself? I think I need to teach you a long overdue lesson.”

‘You belong to me.’

Raphael’s words still echoed in Haarlep’s mind hours later when they were back in the boudoir, sitting on the bed and tracing their wounds.

It hadn’t been the worst contract. Raphael turned out to be tolerable, generous even, measured by the standards of the abyss and the hells. Why then did the distaste in his eyes hurt more than the torture? Every evaded touch, every denied kiss, every time they were told to shut up, to stop thinking, to just function like a toy -

The millennia spent in Raphael’s company passed before their inner eye. From his first order to drop their true form to the last hour in blood and pain. The flame blazed in their guts, hotter than before. Something needed to change.

Haarlep cured their wounds, but the pain didn’t go away. They bathed, but the flame didn’t drown. Not today. And just a few hours later the opportunity for change entered the boudoir.

They sat up at the sight of a person passing the threshold of the boudoir. Haarlep sat up and stretched their wings. Had Raphael, however reluctant, finally listened? Had he sent them a meal to make up? Haarlep wasn’t sure if they would be willing to accept an apology.

No … Even better.

Neither a plaything nor a debtor. Haarlep would have recognized Tav even if Raphael didn’t talk about them in his sleep every night. It was the mouse. And they came to Haarlep.

Well, more likely they were here to search for the orphic hammer, avoiding Raphael’s contract. Daring … Haarlep was able to appreciate their resilience. What a selection of sweet opportunities Tav’s arrival brought. Of course, first of all, the chance to feed. Looking at them, a body in their immediate proximity, made Haarlep’s insides cramp and their mouth salivate. If Haarlep played their cards right, they would come out of this encounter sated. Just a single mortal… What harm could they do if they indulged?

Let’s greet them properly.

“A lost little mouse is running through the house … Why are you here, little thief?”

How pleasing it was to have them here whilst Raphael was in Sharess Caress, waiting for this very individual.

“I seek the Orphic Hammer. You can’t stop me!”

Of course. They had warned Raphael again and again. Still Haarlep had never less desired to be right. Raphael’s little mouse is on a mission.

Every other day there would have been no way for both of them to get out of this encounter alive after this confession. But it was not every day. It was the day Raphael had crossed a line and broken something. Today, dark fire coiled in Haarlep’s gut and its flames whispered words of temptation.

I am not your toy, not an item to be used and tossed away. Not a puppet you can rip apart in a temper tantrum. We had millenia … and nothing changed.

“Hmm …” Haarlep bought time to think. “Raphael all but spent himself to get that hammer. And you want to take it off him? This is very naughty. Whatever are we to do?”

What if Raphael’s precious little mouse that occupied his every thought, waking and sleeping, surrendered themselves to Haarlep? What if Haarlep rendered them to a mindless puppet? What if Haarlep killed them? Wasn’t that what he deserved?

“Why don’t we play a game? You win, I give you everything you desire. But you’ll enjoy yourself more if you lose.”

“What is the game?”

“It’s a surprise. Off with your clothes!”

Haarlep started to enjoy the encounter when they complied. This might even be fun. They’d feast - on Raphael’s precious traitorous mouse.

“Good. Good little thief, good.” Haarlep let their eyes wander over the flesh of the mortal that had managed to twist Raphael beyond recognition.

“On the bed. Lie back.”

Compliant, again. Why did Raphael have so much trouble with them in the first place? Maybe he should have just f*cked them. Haarlep crawled over the forbidden fruit and tasted. The aroma of their lust in combination with their hunger sent Haarlep spiraling. When they rolled their hips into Tav, Haarlep felt not a hint of remorse. How good it felt to just take and take -

“Haarlep!”

“Mmmm … You are so delicious.” Haarlep felt them losing control. They would devour Tav.

“Devote yourself to pleasure eternal. Stay here with me - this can be forever.”

“You can have my body, but not my mind.”

Haarlep stopped for a moment, surprised to hear the words in all clarity.

Stronger than I thought.

The flame whispered again, curling around their wrists with an echo of the pain that had been washed off. What if Haarlep let them live? What if there was a chance to sate the flame and never feel its pain again?

I am not your toy. I do not belong to you.

“A brilliant choice. Vow that your body belongs to me. Give yourself to me and I will tell you what you wish to know.”

The mouse would run away with the hammer and leave their body. A good deal, for Haarlep at least. Raphael -

No, this mouse could never best Raphael in a battle.

He would come home soon - What if they could?

“I vow: my body is now yours.”

It was just another dice roll in the end. Didn’t it always come down to that?

I could be free.

“Whisper it to me - What do you want to know?”

“How can I find the hammer?”

The dice already rolled, but it was not until they stepped out of the boudoir in the mouse's shape, their heart thrumming in their chest, that they realized they would let the game play out. Mouse or cat? Haarlep would be happy to get rid of either of them - right?

Chapter 19: Cotton swab

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Raphael did his best to not look to his right and keep his eyes on the road. They still drove through the seemingly endless forest and the thick fog hadn’t lifted since the morning. It felt like they were in a limbo, an endless white void with just the vague outlines of trees surrounding them and saturated with a pain that was almost physical. Nobody spoke. There was just a numbing silence.

Why had he wasted even just a second thought on this creature that had done everything to humiliate him for as long as they acted as Mr. Halep? Raphael had not forgotten about a single thing and he remembered especially the horde of outraged customers vividly. Had Haarlep set all of that up to act as his savior or could it really have been a mishap that they rectified the moment they became aware of it?

A part of him wanted to know, but a bigger part never wanted to speak to them again. His incubus was still there, in the car with him, refusing to leave. Because the last thing Raphael let them stay. He told himself that Haarlep might prove useful if it came to a fight, but the truth was that Raphael feared that if he ended up arguing with them one look into their eyes would be enough for him to cave and forgive them. Haarlep would come up with an excuse, that was for certain. They always did. Raphael couldn’t risk that. There was no excuse for killing him. There was no way to make up for this ultimate betrayal. Every sweet moment had turned to poison under the light of this revelation. Raphael loathed himself for falling for their charm even for just one night.

One night in the back of the van that had been different to anything Raphael had ever felt. One night that had showed him something that could have been, but never was and never will be. It was nothing but a pretty lie. It must have been a lie. What other reason could they have had?

What reason did you have?

And why did they betray me?

Whenever Raphael caught himself clinging to this question he shut it off. It didn’t matter. There was nothing Haarlep could say to excuse it, nothing they could do to make it up.

Raphael noticed that he drifted off when Korilla, who now occupied the seat next to him, nudged his side. Quickly he forced his eyes back on the road, but he had already seen the smallest shape of his incubus curled up in the other passenger’s seat, staring out of the window.

“Are you sure we are on the right way?” Raphael asked Korilla to distract himself.

“I am pretty sure, but - Damn, I lost signal!” The warlock held his phone up as if it’d help to phone a satellite.

“Sounds pretty hag-like to me”, Haarlep muttered from the side.

“There seems to be a gas station coming up. Don’t we need to refuel? We could ask for directions.”

Raphael shot the fuel gauge a look and was not surprised to see he was driving on empty. The only question was for how long it had been this way. Still, Korilla’s suggestion sounded reasonable.

“Gas station in the middle of nowhere”, Haarlep commented. “Cozy. That is how you d- Well, you know.”

Neither Raphael nor Korilla responded.

When a flat building appeared on the side of the road, Raphael drove off the main road and stopped next to the fuel pumps. The gas station looked run down and desolate, but there was light in the shop’s window.

“You know I should be the one to go in”, Haarlep tried again. “I can take a shape no one knows.”

Korilla climbed over their legs as if they were luggage and stepped outside. Raphael left the car on the other side. It was chilly outside but nothing compared to the atmosphere in the van. He tried the fuel pump and found it working.

Just a regular gas station.

The moment he thought it a flock of croaking crows flew over their heads. A smile snuck on his lips. Superstition. Effective on mortals. Luckily he was none.

Raphael finished filling the tank, closed the lid and followed Korilla into the shop. On first glance it appeared empty.

“Do we need anything? I am hungry and who knows when we will get a chance to eat again.” Korilla browsed the shelves and grabbed a bag of chips. “Expired - Can chips expire? Mh…” She seemed to ponder if they were still edible, then put them back and turned around to inspect the cooler. “Oh.”

At first Raphael thought it was full of innards. Then he realized it was in molten strawberry ice-cream. Still … That was weird. Was there no one tending the shop?

“Sorry about that. We had a power outage.”

The voice came from behind a shelf then the guys whom it belonged to followed. A young man with greasy hair whose corporate shirt had seen better days.

“I see.” Raphael followed him to the counter to pay for the gas. In the meantime Korilla went through the other shelves, deciding that chewing gum was probably unable to expire and placed a pack on the counter.

“That's 75,30.”

Whilst Raphael handed over the money, Korilla inspected the flyers in the rack next to the counter. They praised the region as a health resort in bold letters.

“Do you have a lot of tourists?” she asked the clerk with mild interest.

“No, not many. The fog is too dense to enjoy - but apparently healthy if you believe the flyers. Are you staying?”

“Just passing through.”

“Good.”

“This nature reserve that is mentioned, where exactly is it?” Korilla asked casually.

“Right around the corner, about half an hour's drive to the northwest. Can’t recommend going there, though.”

“Why?”

“Weird stuff happening. Every once in a while people go missing there. And others… They come back changed.”

“What do you mean changed?”

“I -” The moment the clerk started to answer, there was a “whump” sound and a small disoriented lizard dropped on the counter.

“Did that just fall out of your sleeve?”

Quickly the guy grabbed the reptile. “Oh don't mind it, it's just - It's my pet. Yes, my pet lizard. Steve.”

“I guess that is your pet frog crawling out of your shirt collar then? Does it have a name, too? Bucky perhaps?”

“And the snake?”

Frantically the clerk tried to shove all the critters back into his clothes, failing because there were just too many. Toads and lizards and even slugs. “Why don't you just go?”

“Actually I am pretty interested in the little zoo you got yourself there …” Raphael insisted with a wicked smile.

“NO! Go! Just go!” The man urged both of them towards the exit. “We're closed anyways. Forever!”

The moment they stepped out of the door he closed it behind them and turned the sign on it from “open” to “for sale”.

Korilla and Raphael stared at each other.

“So, that was that”, the warlock summarized.

Raphael just gave a nod.

“I see you managed to get kicked out of a gas station all on your own?” Haarlep leaned out of the window of the van.

Raphael forced his eyes to stay on Korilla. “Northwest it is then? The nature reserve.”

“Yep.” His warlock climbed back into the car and Raphael followed on the driver’s side.

For about half an hour they followed the signs that progressively became shabbier on a road that progressively became crumblier. Then they stopped on an overgrown parking lot with few other cars under a banner that said “Welcome to Bogwater Swamp - Nature reserve. Stay on the path. Don’t litter.”

“Sounds manageable”, Raphael commented and caught an involuntary grin on Haarlep’s face. “You”, it was the first time he addressed them since the morning and they immediately perked up. “Come or stay, I don’t care.”

“I am not gonna let you go alone.”

“He is not alone. He never was.” Korilla seemed to have forgotten she wasn’t talking to Haarlep either and her eyes shot flames of hellfire at them.

“Shut it”, Raphael commanded, locked the car and took the lead. “We’ve got business.”

He was tense. Anxiety festered in his guts with every step. He would find out who he was, who he truly was - whatever that may include. And whatever that meant for -

About a mile into the wetlands Raphael found himself a nervous wreck.

The path that had been graveled, leading through the tall and mossy trees on both sides had become narrow until it was nothing more than a trail. Korilla stopped to look around. Raphael wondered what she was trying to see, because in every direction there were the same gnarly trees with moss hanging off their branches, bogwater between their roots and tufts of purple grass sticking out of it. Everything further away than five meters drowned in the fog.

“I think I saw something…” Haarlep started, but got interrupted.

“This is odd. In our home a hag would at least make an effort to put up some glamor. This is not inviting at all - are we really on the right path?”

“There -”

“Wasn't it you who brought us here?”

“I followed a strong lead, but -”

“That guy in the gas station was clearly under some kind of curse. We must be right.”

“An infestation with crawlies? Yes, that sounds very hag-like. I’d like to know what he originally wished for… But why would she want to keep potential victims out?”

“We - What is that?” Raphael’s eyes fixated on a bright spot in the depth of the mist. It looked like a small blue flame. The moment he tried to get a better look, it disappeared. Instead another one lit up, much closer. This one was of an eerie green color. Raphael furrowed his brows, but Korilla made a few steps towards the light and -

fell face first into a murky pond that had been concealed between the reeds and marsh grass. The pond bubbled and slurped. Raphael, forgetting he could use magic for the moment, rushed to save his warlock, grabbing her hand as it reemerged. Then he remembered his nature and pulled her back on the trail with telekinesis. Though for a moment he wasn’t sure what he had pulled out of the swamp: A hunched creature dripping with mud and weeds in their hair.

“I saw … something. Dead people”, it said with a voice that could have been Korilla’s if it hadn’t shaken so much. A muffled noise came from behind them and Raphael and the mud creature turned around. The pile of muck growled and in the next moment jumped past Raphael to grab Haarlep by their clothes. “You! You conjured that will-o-the-Wisp to lure me into the swamp!”

“I did not!”

“Don’t try to fool me! I can still see you grinning.”

“That’s because you look like you had a tryst with a mud mephit! Hey, don’t drip all over my -”

“That’s enough.” Both of them froze at the sound of Raphael’s voice. “Korilla, what do you mean you saw dead people?”

“I - I am not sure anymore, but I saw faces floating in the water, crying faces. We are on hag territory. Those must be the remains of her prey, even if it was just an illusion.”

“Good.” Raphael snapped his fingers as a reward and his warlock was clean and proper again. The dwarf shook her head. “Could you also conjure up a cotton swab by chance? I think you missed some in my ears.”

But Raphael had already turned to Haarlep, instinctively avoiding meeting their eyes, before summing enough resolve to do it anyways. “That’s enough”, he said calmly. “If I can’t even trust you to behave, if not to not betray me, I have no use for you anymore. Go.”

Haarlep stood frozen in place, not disbelief but a silent plea in their eyes.

Raphael locked himself behind a bulwark of willpower. The incubus needed to leave. This swamp, his side, his life. They had caused him nothing but trouble in every shape, worst of all their true form, trying to pry him open and, by the hells, they almost succeeded. It was the only rational consequence to what they had done. “Leave.”

Haarlep refused to move, but that didn’t stop Raphael. Not anymore. He gave Korilla a nod and they turned around, walking away until the swirling fog swallowed Haarlep’s shape.

Once that was done, Raphael didn’t feel better in the slightest.

As if the swamp had waited for that, the fog lifted soon after they had left. Suspicion rose in Raphael and mixed with the growing feeling that he had made a mistake.

No. It was right. I can’t keep someone around I can’t trust.

Of course he was aware that, despite his words, it has had nothing to do with their behavior that he told Haarlep to leave. It was -

Why don’t you stop thinking about it for one moment and focus on what is ahead?

Again it felt as if something listened to his thoughts and the trees retreated, the fog disappeared almost entirely and Raphael and Korilla found themselves walking a corduroy road over green bogwater towards a few rays of sunlight that illuminated the scenery. The reeds stood high on both sides, but suddenly they could hear frogs croaking and a dragonfly crossed their path. Korilla snatched it out of the air and held it with significant pressure.

“Ahhh don’t hurt me!” it whined.

Korilla snarled, throwing it back into the air, where it buzzed away with haste. Then she turned towards Raphael. “Here we are: glamor.”

Soon after the road took a turn and an unexpected building came into sight.

“Is that -?”

Raphael remembered some of the stories he read on his lonely evenings as a delivery driver. “Seems like your hag skipped the gingerbread house and went straight for the bakery - more sanitary, I guess.”

Then, on a whim, Raphael closed his eyes and opened them again, forcing himself to see . The swamp changed back to its trieste appearance, but the bakery stayed. Only the signs next to the door showed were different. Raphael took in the sight of the sign that announced “Spring is in the bread! Grain of the month: Ergot! Two pretzels for the prize of seven!” And “Vegan, gluten- and sugar free donuts!” Truly terrifying if one thought about it.

Raphael gave his warlock a sign to follow and approached the door. The windows were opaque and revealed nothing. The door swung open before they got a chance to knock.

“Well then.” Raphael suppressed an urge to look back and crossed the doorstep.

Chapter 20: Massage oil

Chapter Text

The room with the counter was empty, because none of the customers were real. Not even glamoured creatures, just half-assed illusions that evaporated into mist as Korilla and Raphael passed through them. He looked around carefully but found nothing more concerning than rotten pastries in the display.

Korilla showed less hesitation, walking straight up to the counter and ringing the bell there. “She better show up now, after making her paying customers go on a cross country hike.”

Before Raphael was able to ask how his warlock was planning to pay for his memories, an incorporeal voice answered: “Enter. You are invited.”

Raphael watched as the back door transformed into rough bark and branches that opened up to create a passage. Then he took a breath and crossed the threshold.

There was a cave on the other side which at this point didn’t surprise him much. It was dimly lit, the air felt damp. Roots and bare dirt covered the ground, the walls were lined with shelves filled with preserving jars that contained everything imaginable from human eyeballs to dolphin feti. More flasks with liquids in a variety of colors hung from the ceiling in between garlands of dried herbs. The light came from hollowed out and dried pumpkins with flickering candles inside which took up every free space. A collection of knick-knacks was scattered across the larger roots and stone slabs that appeared to serve as tables. The only one that was free of clutter had engraved symbols filled with dried blood. The back part of the cave was separated by a curtain of vines.

Raphael could feel the magic here, thick and murky like bogwater, almost slimy upon further inspection. The heavy damp air made it hard to breathe and Raphael felt his infernal nature revolt. He did not belong here.

He touched one of the bottles above him and took a closer look at its contents. It was the same healing potion Korilla had in her bag. The one next to it was labeled massage oil. Other bottles were filled with swirling fog and squirming critters that made him uneasy. He found himself staring at a small mouse, turning slowly in its thick liquid. It appeared to be dead, but every once in a while its whiskers twitched. Something tingled in the back of his mind.

“Hello petal.”

“Ethel”, Korilla stated as if was familiar with the creature that had parted the vines and stepped into their field of view. “I should have known.”

The hag presented herself, showing off her entire disgusting appearance: Green skin with warts, weeds for hair and an absurdly long hooked nose. A little too late Raphael realized he should have switched into his true form. Doing it now would give the impression that he felt inferior. Human it had to be then. He straightened his back.

“It appears that we have met”, he said and made a step closer. Korilla took her place at his side, slightly behind him.

“Oh, we have been the bestest of friends”, the hag chortled.

“Don’t believe her. You did nothing but tolerate her. He might not remember, but I do.”

Ethel perked her lips. “Look at your warlock, spoiling all the fun. When the cat's away, the mice will play. Yours certainly did.”

“It appears you’re all caught up.”

“Unlike you, right?” The hag chuckled. “Don’t worry your pretty head, auntie will take care of you.”

She looked up and down at him and Korilla. “You took your time to appear in my humble abode.”

“You knew we were coming?”

Ethel reached out and touched Raphael’s jaw with her clawed hand. Then she sighed theatrically. “Listen, petal, that wasn’t so difficult. You left a trail of destruction behind.”

Raphael swallowed, not amused, because she was obviously right. Though most of the chaos was not his fault. Haarlep. Where were they now?

“Was it you who sent the armed forces?” Korilla asked.

“Tsk, tsk. I thought you were brighter than that, little dwarf. Do armed troopers look like my doing?”

“No”, Korilla had to admit. “But who was it then?”

“Mhhh, what are you going to give me for that knowledge?”

“Nothing”, Raphael interrupted them. “We’re here for something else.”

“Right.” Ethel gave him a sincere look. “Raphael… Where does the devil go when he is desperate.” She paused for a moment, then smiled again wickedly. “To auntie of course.”

It sounded far too self-satisfied for Raphael’s taste and he scrunched his nose at her words.

The hag came closer, towering over his human shape and whilst Korilla grabbed her staff tighter, Raphael forced himself not to move.

“What do you know about my condition?” he asked firmly as if Ethel didn’t almost touch his nose with hers.

“Oh, this and that. Words from crows and other loyal creatures. You have lost your memory.”

“Correct.”

Finally the hag backed up, but she still looked down at him. “Ah …” She took a deep inhale. “Your despair smells delicious.” She tilted her head and continued in a stage whisper as if they shared a secret. “Only it is not your lost memory that’s the cause for it, am I not right, petal?”

Raphael stared her down, whilst his insides melted into a pool of lava. “Business, hag”, he reminded her coldly, ignoring whatever she might imply.

She showed a sharp toothed smile. “I am a healer. Don’t you want me to ease your pain?”

“I want my memory back.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“What do you mean?”

“Ah, the tragedy.” She licked her lips. “Far be it from me to deny you your deepest wish. Let me see.” She gestured, inviting Raphael to sit on one of the stone benches. As he walked past her, he gave in and switched into his true form. It felt better, even though the hag giggled about it. Once he was seated Ethel came closer again, but he raised a finger to stop her. “What are you going to do?”

“I take a deeper look at your little issue. Don’t worry, it won’t even hurt.”

Raphael’s eyes narrowed. “You will take a look at my memory loss, telling me if you are able to fix it. Without straying and digging into other parts of my brain or psyche - or my body while we’re at it. And”, he raised his finger higher, “you will do so without payment of any sort if you want me to take your deal.”

The hag sighed, visibly disappointed. “Fine.” She turned to Korilla. “Is he always like that?”

His warlock chuckled. “You forget you’re dealing with a devil, Ethel.” She looked proud.

Ethel rolled her eyes. “Have it your way, then.” Without warning she grabbed his chin and made him look up to her. Ethel's eyes were pale green and she smelled like frogs and rotting greens. It seemed like her eyes grew bigger and bigger or did they just come closer and closer? Then all of a sudden she let go of his chin and Raphael sat there confused, watching her think about what she had seen.

“ Your memories are locked way, imagine it like a wall. It is not very strong. You have already peaked through it haven’t you?”

Raphael nodded. He thought about how stress seemed to weaken the barrier, making it permeable. Then he thought about the moments when he suddenly remembered something - and then he quickly turned his attention back on the hag. It was dangerous to be distracted in her presence.

Korilla asked: “The barrier. Can you bypass it?”

“Easy as pie. I tear it down and you get your precious master back, little one.” Korilla flinched as she was addressed with a dig at her race. “The only thing you have to answer first is: Do you want that?”

“Of course!”

“I didn’t ask you.” Ethel stared Raphael down, ignoring his warlock.

“Yes, of course.” Why else would they have crossed the whole country, sleep deprived and fighting for their lives at times if he didn’t get what he came for?

Ethel co*cked her head. “Out”, she said without looking at Korilla. “You are of no use here.”

“But I am here to pay for him!”

“I deal with the devil alone or not at all.”

“Wait outside, Korilla.”

Hesitantly the warlock left. Raphael stood up, relieved to notice that he was now just as tall as her. “What are you waiting for?”

Ethel scolded him with a sound of her tongue. “Shortly, petal. We haven’t discussed the matter of payment.”

“Right. What do you want?” By now Raphael knew he shouldn’t expect to trade mortal goods. What would a hag ask for? He remembered his conversation with Korilla on the topic. Would he have to give up an eye or another limb? Something less material? A feeling? He had seen some labels among the bottles that suggested Ethel also dealt with emotions.

“What are your memories worth to you?” Ethel completed his trail of thought.

Yes, what were they worth to him? Going back to the heat of the hells, his old life. Picking up where he had left, retrieving the crown of Perseus or whatever. What was he to do? Where was he supposed to go next? All he had thought of over the last days was to find the hag and make the deal. And here he was now. Nothing held him on this plane anymore. The only thing he could do now was to move on.

“I-”

“You do miss the heat of the hells and the sincerity of knowing who you are… Your place in the world, predetermined the day you were born. An ordinary cambion. Half human. Predetermined to never amount to anything. Your father made sure of that - at least after your recent failure.”

“I am not ordinary! You have no idea what I can do, hag.” Anger rose in Raphael, hot like hellfire, without him even knowing why. “What does my father have to do with that?”

“Of course he only holds your and your consorts life in a contract.”

“What?” His fury deflated like a balloon.

“That is what happens if Haarlep breaks their vow to not tell you about your past: You both die. And this time there will be no resurrection.”

So they didn’t lie about that. They were really unable to say anything.

“It doesn’t matter anymore. They are gone. My memories”, he reminded her. “Now, hag.”

“If you say so. Close your eyes.” She reached out with her claw until she touched his forehead. Raphael could feel her magic curling around her hand, reaching for him. Raphael kept his eyes open, watching her every move. Ethel sighed. “Just relax, it won’t even hurt much.”

“Not so fast.” Raphael interrupted her and took a step back. “What do you want for it?”

Ethel laughed, not bothered in the slightest about the fact that he hadn’t fallen for her trap.

“Don’t worry, my sweet, it’s nothing you will miss.” She snapped her fingers and in a swirl of fog an image appeared. It showed the swamp with its trees and waters. In the middle of the fog a lone figure took shape.

Haarlep crossed the corduroy seemingly without paying attention to their surroundings. Raphael’s heart made a painful jump. He was unable to see their face but their movements were jerky and every few steps they changed shape - fiend - drow - woman - man - true form - not settling for any of them as if they felt uncomfortable in any of them.

“You? What do you want from Haarlep?” Raphael was almost unable to pull himself away from the sight, forcing himself to focus on the hag again.

She is dangerous. Don’t give her any leverage.

“Oh no, little devil, I do not want anything from them. I want them.” Ethel sighed. “An incubus is a valuable asset. I could do very well with one in my collection.”

She waved her hand as if she was scaring away flies. The image flickered and disappeared. “So, what do you say? A nuisance for your past and future?”

He thought about it. He hated himself for thinking about it for only a moment - and even more he hated himself for having to remind himself of his actual goal.

Haarlep’s face floated in his mind in all their shapes. Halep, Ms. Eden, the pierced guy and the small one with the curly hair, mocking, teasing, moaning and lastly in their true form, making him remember their final smile, their last kiss before Raphael had learned what they had done to him. All this was because of them. And now he was offered a chance to get rid of the cause of his misery and get his real life back.

Your identity, your past, your future. Everything you have lost.

But it was hard to miss something he didn't remember. He just wanted the pain in his chest gone, the feeling of suffocating slowly.

Where could he go if he came out of this without his memories restored? No, he had no choice.

“No.”

Chapter 21: Lip balm

Chapter Text

“No?”

“You heard me.”

“Oh, my fiery petal… You will regret this.”

“I don’t care.”

The hag sighed. “Then we’re done here.” She led him to the exit. “And don’t dare come back asking for my help again.”

Raphael blinked in the unexpected sunlight as he was pushed out the front door. For a moment he was unable to do anything, even breathing proved difficult. He felt like he was falling. Falling without a safety line, not knowing where he would land or if he would land at all.

“Korilla, dear”, he heard the hag’s voice behind the rush of blood in his ears. They exchanged a few words. Raphael barely noticed it. Then he and his warlock were alone again.

“Let’s leave this dreary place.” Korilla decided and Raphael followed her as she crossed the swamp in long strides. Once they stumbled out of the fog into the parking lot Raphael struggled to believe the yellow van was still there. It felt surreal. Instinctively he turned his head, but didn’t find what he was looking for.

Good. That chapter is closed and it will stay closed. I shouldn’t -

His fragmented thoughts got interrupted by Korilla. “How are you feeling?”, the warlock asked.

Raphael shrugged and climbed into the car, clueless about what else he could do. In the end he just started the engine and drove off.

Korilla left him alone for a few miles, before she grew impatient. “Where are we going? Are we finally going back to the hells? Are you ready to take the crown?”

Raphael just shot her a quick look, but that proved enough to drain all color from her face.

“No”, she said.

Raphael didn’t answer.

“You refused the deal.”

A quick nod of acknowledgement.

“Why -?” Korilla interrupted herself. “Haarlep. She wanted something with Haarlep. Stop the car.”

Raphael obliged and Korilla turned to face him. “Tell me I’m wrong. Tell me!” Her voice grew shrill.

“I can’t.”

“You.” Korilla breathed so heavily, she had trouble speaking. “After all of this. After all the pain and the struggles, you chose them.”

“I didn’t choose them. They are gone. For good”

“Why in all hells did you do it then?”

“Because-” Raphael took a deep breath to steady himself. “Because I had no right to decide about them.”

“How dare you.” Korilla got up. “You chose them over your life, your future, me. I can’t believe you did that, Raphael.” She climbed out of the car. “Now I understand… And I should have seen it so much sooner.” She gave Raphael a look, her fingers stroking over the scars on her cheek, reminding him painfully of everything she had for him.

“Korilla-”

“No. It’s too late.” His warlock gave him another look. “Get me out of my contract. It is the least you can do.”

“Fine.” He had no energy left to argue. If she wanted to be free, she should be. Raphael followed her out of the car. They stood in the stopping lane in the middle of nowhere.

For some reason Raphael knew exactly what to do and pulled a dusty scroll out of the air in front of him. He looked at it as if he had never seen it before. In a way he hadn't.

Fifty years. Half a century in my service and it all would end today.

Raphael wondered what the proper way to do it was, but in the end he just handed the scroll over to her. Korilla took it gingerly. Her expression gave nothing away. She skimmed the contract, lingering on the signature a much younger and desperate Korrilla had given. Then she held it up in front of her with both hands and tore into it. After just an inch she stopped, blinking rapidly, then tore the parchment in half. Her lips were narrow and her face pale. Once she was done she ripped it again. And again and again, until it was nothing more than paper scraps that the wind blew away.

Raphael felt the connection between them crumble, her soul slipping out of his grip

“How will you be faring without your magic?” Raphael asked.

“That doesn't have to bother you”, she answered with a tremor in her voice. “If anything about me ever did.”

Raphael didn’t answer.

“Goodbye.”

“Goodbye.”

Raphael watched her turn around and call out to one of the passing cars. It stopped and Korilla climbed in. Then she was gone.

And Raphael found himself alone in the stopping lane. He was not surprised. That was not the right way to put it. He had known what he signed up for the moment he decided to refuse the deal.

And still.

Now that his warlock was gone, the void was all encompassing. No voice, neither friendly nor mocking to break up the silence. No goal, no destination to turn to. No place to call home.

Raphael stretched his stiff neck and climbed back into the car.

Only a few miles further he had to stop at the side of the road again because his hands were shaking too much. He took them off the steering wheel. Then he raised them to his mouth and bit down on the knuckles to suppress the sound that clawed its way out of his throat, but too late.

A terrible hot wetness rose in him until it broke out of him with all its might. Tears started to run down his face and Raphael hit the steering wheel in frustration, fighting the urge to cry. But before he knew it he found himself giving in. The sobs came in irregular waves and shook him. How, how had he managed to lose it all?

He should have gone with Korilla, he should have taken the deal. Now it was too late.

Entirely too late.

And still he couldn’t find it in himself to regret his decision.

He shouldn’t have sent Haarlep away in the first place.

“f*ck!”

There was no use in crying. He had brought this on himself and now he had to deal with it. Raphael wiped his eyes and forced himself to stop his pathetic behavior. The decision to refuse the hag had been his own. Effects and the cause.

He just had to deal with it. He wiped his eyes again and looked around in the car. It was a mess. Both Haarlep and Korilla had littered it and in doing so left countless traces of themselves. Slowly Raphael started to pick up the trash and put some order back into his space.

He found Korilla’s bag of holding under the passenger’s seat. She must have forgotten about in her hurry to get away from him. It contained spare clothes, a toothbrush, sanitary pads, blackcurrant flavored lip balm, hair care products, concerning amounts of chocolate and some rectangular golden currency he was unfamiliar with. Under a set of undies he found a glass bottle containing red liquid. Raphael took it.

It was harder to go through the things that Haarlep left. Black tights and a choker, nail polish and cinnamon co*ke. Mostly a lot of candy wrappers - and, for some reason, a curling trophy. Raphael collected the trash and carried it outside. Just as he was about to throw it in the bin, his eyes fell on a small white rectangle with ketchup stains. He kept it and pinned it to the console with some tape. It didn’t reveal any of its secrets, but it was something.

Suddenly exhausted, Raphael fell back on his seat, closing his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.

Coffee.

He strapped himself in again and turned the key. Coffee and a secret. It was not much, but it was a start.

Raphael didn’t find any coffee shop for miles, just tiny villages with cows lined the road. The best they had to offer was a supermarket, so when he stopped the car, it was in the parking lot of an Aldi. He might at least find some pre-made coffee in the cooler there. The lot was almost empty, not many people were out and about. Raphael checked the clock and found that it was late afternoon. It felt like days had passed since the morning on the clearing. Years since the night before.

He entered the store and for a moment felt assaulted by the noise and the abundance of items in the rows of the shelves, overwhelmed by the neon light and the shoppers and the pure mundanity of it all. Slowly he walked down the isles.

He collected a bag of Haribo cherries before he stopped in front of the cooler with the to-go items. He would just -

“Turn around, hands over your head.”

Raphael blinked.

Right.

Somehow he had entirely forgotten about the fact that he was still being chased.

Slowly he turned around. He faced an empty store and three troopers in dark armor like the ones he had encountered before.

“Put your hands behind your head, devil!”

Only three and no priest this time. Raphael raised his hands and obliged.

“Who are you?” he asked. “Who do you work for?”

Two of them came closer and positioned themselves at his side cautiously. The third pointed his gun at him and yelled. “You are not the one to ask questions, servant of the hells. Where is your underling, the witch?”

Raphael shrugged sincerely. The two grabbed his arms and pulled them down, locking them behind his back. A flicker of heat, a tiny flame rose in his body. He got urged down on one of the tables that displayed children’s clothes. His jaw twitched but he played along - for now.

The other guy put his gun to his neck. “You will tell us where she is, now!”

“I don’t know.”

“Don’t take me for a fool. We have been following you! We know you are not alone. The game is over, devil.” He accentuated his words with a nudge of the gun barrel.

For a quick moment Raphael felt the urge to laugh. In a smooth movement he wriggled out of their grasp. Flames engulfed him and he grew to full cambion size.

“Over? We’re just about to finish the first act.”

“Make no move, fiend! You are outnumbered.” Raphael noticed one of the troopers speaking into a microphone on his collar, before the first one continued. “No surprises this time. The whole building is surrounded.”

“How do you know I am not commanding legions of hell?”

Raphael tried to keep them talking. First of all to get a hint about who they were, but also to buy himself time, because if it was true what the guy said, he might actually be in a rather dire situation.

The commander listened to his headset for a moment, then stepped up to him, looking up at Raphael through his helmet’s visor.

“So, you lost your witch. That is pleasant news. Which means you are alone. No one will come to your rescue this time.”

“Alone? Don’t you remember the incubus?” He swallowed the pain of this bluff, but it was necessary if he wanted to escape this situation in one piece.

“The incubus? Of course we remember. We have already caught them. They’re locked up in our headquarters, awaiting interrogation - and then elimination.”

Heat burned down Raphael’s spine, fueling something. Something that urged to grow. His skin itched and tickled, the sound that crawled up his throat was not human.

It couldn’t be true. They couldn’t possibly have captured Haarlep!

But what if it is?

Raphael growled, the air grew hot and heavy with a sulfuric smell. Hellfire flared up around him once more. His spine contorted and snapped in searing pain. He let out a roar, half intimidation, half cry. His vision blurred, he grew to an abnormal size, all his limbs bursting into flames.

The first shots hit his chest without leaving any impact. He saw the commander yelling into his headset. A gigantic claw came down, picked him up and snapped him in half like a toy soldier.

The last thing Raphael saw before his conscious thoughts drowned in primal fury was troopers storming the store like a flood of ants.

He roared again. And hell broke loose.

Chapter 22: Liquid hand soap

Chapter Text

Haarlep was alone when they crossed the parking lot. A few car wrecks and lifeless bodies garnished it and they circumnavigated them carefully. Their bare feet crossed puddles of blood and water, whilst flakes of ash danced in the darkening sky, lit up only by the burning supermarket. It made Haarlep think of another battlefield, another day … They didn’t want to remember.

They had been too late then. Too late to turn around, to save what they had forsaken.

Haarlep just hoped it would be different today.

The parking lot was almost silent, besides the sizzling of the flames and the occasional cracking of the building. Almost as if no soul was alive in there. Their heart sank.

Then a crash and some shattering, fresh flames licking out of the roof into the sky -

Raphael!

Haarlep found a hole in the ruined wall and hurried to climb through it. A door lay flat on the ground a few feet away. Just next to a giant clawed foot.

There he was.

Raphael stood upright. He was so tall that his horns had pierced the ceiling in a few places. The fire in his chest was still burning and his eyes glowed in the flickering emergency lighting that struggled against the wrecking that had taken place. Cans and glass shards covered the floor in between a ring of more bodies. The floor was covered with blood and olive oil.

Haarlep admired the carnage the beast had caused. He was surely magnificent and - also in a mood.

Whilst they crossed the slippery floor and approached the beast, Haarlep shifted. They would need a sturdier shape for this: Red leathery skin, a tall body with wings and claws - still so fragile against the monstrosity in front of them. Its tusks were as thick as Haarlep’s arm.

The three heads turned to look at them, a long tongue lolled out the middle one, sniffing. It tasted the sulfur in the air that their transformation had elicited. It must be something familiar amidst the alienness of boxed bread and discount underwear.

“Hello, Kitty …” Haarlep mumbled as they stepped over a puddle of liquid hand soap.

The beast made an attempt to look at them, but their horns collided with the ceiling. It grunted.

“You want to look at me? Come, I am right here.” Haarlep stretched out their hand. “Careful.”

We don’t want you to get hurt. That is my job today.

Slowly the monster lowered itself until, half crouched, it fit in the corridor of aisle 3. It made a step closer to Haarlep and just as they thought it might be curious or confused enough to behave, its tongue shot forward and wrapped around their outstretched arm, piercing it with the thousand hook-like papillae that covered it and almost ripped it out of its joint when it retreated. Haarlep stumbled forward, reaching out and getting a hold on one of the beast's curved horns.

Suddenly they were eye to eye with Raphael, only he was massive. His tail flicked and his breath brushed over their face, coppery, bloody from all the people he had torn today. Haarlep wiped a bit of the red stains off one of his tusks and tasted it. Then they repeated the gesture and let the beast take a taste from their finger.

Bad idea.

Its head jolted forward, eager, agitated by the renewed flavor of blood on its tongue. Haarlep dodged, but was too slow. A tusk of his middle skull gored into their side. Haarlep doubled over, tightening their grip on the horn and hissed.

“Bad kitty. No treat for you!”

Their teeth gritted, but they stayed where they were, resolved.

In this state Raphael had no control over himself and there was limited ways to get him back to his senses, none of them available at Aldi.

Wasn’t he beautiful? The graceful wings, the curves of his exoskeleton, the rib cage filled with flickering hellfire …

Good thing I am fire resistant.

The beast watched every of their moves. For now it followed Haarlep’s lead, but its flanks vibrated. It was not tame, it never would be. Haarlep supposed it held still out of curiosity, not kindness. Or, worse case, it held still like a cat watching a mouse with no sense of self-preservation.

“I am no mouse”, Haarlep stated, just in case the beast understood them. “I am here to bring you back, you massive handsome chunk of a feles.”

They accompanied their adoring words with some scritches under its left chin, but the beast was not to falter so easily. It twitched and let out a low howl, before struggling out of Haarlep’s grip.

“No pets? What do you want then?” They slowly lifted their shirt, so Raphael could see the bleeding wound he had torn. “More of that? You want to hurt me?” They let the fabric fall down again and got closer to him. “Or is there something else? A need perhaps? Show me.” Haarlep had smelled his arousal the moment they had entered, growing when he tore the wound. The beast’s instincts were strong and Haarlep had only encountered it twice before. Rare glimpses of an untamed fiend, painful in both cases - but precious.

As an answer to their words, Haarlep saw the plates of his exoskeleton between the legs shift, pressed aside by the tip of its giant co*ck, red and strangely wet in between the licking flames.

Raphael let them come close enough so they could press their body against the heat and the hard ridges of his torso, their head not even at the height of his shoulders. Haarlep reached down and let their fingers slide over the opening, teasing him. Raphael lowered himself a bit more and Haarlep seized the opportunity to kiss and lick across his left jaw. As a thank, they received his claws digging into their side, long enough to almost wrap around their entire mid and sharp like blades.

One of Haarlep’s ribs gave a warning crack when Raphael enclosed them, but Haarlep just bit down on their own lips and worked harder to get the co*ck to emerge in its full length. It felt nice in their hands - they needed both now to handle it. Warm and slicked, ridged and heavy.

Despite the danger or maybe even fuelled by it, they felt their own arousal coil in between their legs, even though Haarlep knew it would unlikely be enjoyable once Raphael got over his hesitant curiosity that held him back now.

The beast started thrusting arythmically into their hands and against their belly and Haarlep felt by the shivers of the large body that it was only a matter of moments until the beast's reluctance would shift into something much more dangerous.

They intensified their administrations, feeling Raphael’s knot swell on his base. They had almost forgotten about this feature of his ascended form. Nervousness mixed with the tingle of arousal, but there was no going back. As handsome as he was now, Raphael preferred a form that could speak, even if it was not with Haarlep. Therefore, they gritted their teeth and let their thumb flick across the pointed tip of his co*ck with precision. The beast's hips yanked forward, it growled and one moment later, Haarlep got thrown across the hall, crashing down on a display with clothes that hadn’t caught on fire yet. They felt the impact bruise their whole front and they groaned in pain. They only managed to turn around halfway to see the monster stalking towards them, before it was already on them.

“Raphael -” It came out as a hiss. The air got pressed out of their lungs as he pressed flush against them, making Haarlep feel the whole length of him through their clothes. He is burning. Haarlep whined as the flames licked across their skin.

“You’re not getting what you want if you’re not undressing me.”

The beast seemed to have come to the same conclusion, but ‘undressing’ was a word unfamiliar to it. It ripped through the fabric and a good part of Haarlep’s skin with its claws. Their clothes fell open and the stinging streaks on the back filled with fresh blood. Haarlep felt a long tongue dragging across their asscheeks and up their back, lapping up blood and sweat, tasting Haarlep’s fear and making them squirm. Struggling, even so slightly, had been a mistake. The monster howled, and with a grunt forced itself on them. It grabbed their shoulders and throat, making them choke whilst urging its co*ck between their legs. That the tip was pointed was the only grace Haarlep was granted when it pried them open. Haarlep would have cried if they had any air left to do so, but they got suffocated in fabric that smelled of chemicals whilst claws dug into their throat. They managed a weak groan.

The beast left their throat just as sparks started to dance in front of their eyes.

“What are you waiting for? Get what you - Agh!”

Haarlep’s daring words got cut in half, curdling into a whimper as their wings were crushed under the full weight of the fiend and it drove itself into them with uncoordinated jerks of its body.

It took only two thrusts before they were fully sheathed. Haarlep could feel their belly bulge against the metal of the display and an involuntary whine forced its way out of their mouth.

I will not fight back. I will stay as long as it takes to get you back .

They tried to get a hold on the metal bars, fighting only to take Raphael fully like he deserved it. They found a rhythm eventually. It took some time, but they made it. The immediate pain dulled and Haarlep, even with tears in their eyes, couldn’t help but appreciate how full they felt. That was, until Raphael doubled his efforts, pressing the knot into them as well. Every ounce of decorum left them and they whined as Raphael thrusted relentlessly. And whilst they were able to take him, he also tore streaks of skin off their back, digging his claws between their ribs, crushing them with his sheer weight.

Don’t fight it, don’t fight it.

“Good .. kitty.”

He deserves this. He deserves to be himself. I am the only one who -

Their string of consecutive thoughts broke as the co*ck inside them erupted in what felt like a stream of lava. Raphael pressed them down even harder, they choked, retched, getting filled with the endless flood of his cum.

“Raph -”

His hips jerked erratically, the movements designed to drive his seed into them even deeper, he couldn’t help it even if he wanted. Dazed, Haarlep felt his tusks goring into their body again.

Please don’t kill me... Even if I deserve it.

Haarlep endured everything until the thrusts ebbed. All of a sudden it was still. The co*ck was still inside them, the knot holding it in place, plugging the beast’s cum in.

Haarlep was still conscious. Blood dripped off them, at times getting licked up by the flames in a sizzle, their bones were broken in more than one place, the skin bruised and covered in wounds - and Raphael?

With their last ounce of strength Haarlep turned their head to look right into the yellow eyes of one of his skulls. The fire in his body had dulled. A rumbling noise came from the depth of the beasts chest as it licked once more over Haarlep’s broken body.

“Don’t worry. It’s fine.” They had to pause to swallow the blood in their mouth. “Now you come back, won’t you? Raphael.” Their vision blurred. Haarlep blinked, forcing themselves to lift themselves up. “My little brat.” They breathed a kiss on his skull.

Then they fell back onto their strange bed of metal and fabric, their senses dwindling. The last thing they felt was the co*ck sliding out of them and cum leaking from their hole.

A black veil embraced them. Darkness fell, covering their senses, carrying them away to a world free of pain.

Chapter 23: Bandaid

Chapter Text

Smoke, sulfur and blood. There was so much blood when Raphael came back to his senses. He was naked, sitting in a whole puddle of it, leaning against a ruined shelf. It was not only blood. He swirled one finger through the liquid and a distinct cherry smell mixed with the other scents. Handsoap. His vision was still blurry and his body felt like he had wrestled an orthon or been run over by a truck - or both in that order.

A mist of rain cooled his heated skin.

Sprinklers.

Raphael lifted his head and looked around. He lay in between the shelves and a pile of bodies. They displayed varying stages of gore. The sprinklers had extinguished almost all the fires. His own hellfire must have vanished when he changed back into cambion form. Raphael gave his body a quick run over. The skin was bruised in some places, but otherwise he seemed to not be hurt at all.

Good thing the ascended form is bullet proof.

But if I ascended and the evidence is clear - How come that I am myself once more?

Carefully he pulled himself to his feet. With a spark of magic he cleaned and clothed himself. Then he approached the closest corpse and turned it around with his foot. The head rolled off.

Raphael lowered himself to inspect it and search for hints on their superior, but stopped after just a few seconds, because something was off.

Adrenaline rushed his veins before he could even identify the scent he had unconsciously picked up. He turned around, scanning the store. His eyes found what his mind still refused to grasp.

They blended in with the corpses on the floor, their clothes torn and a lake of blood surrounding them. Their wings had gotten buried under an avalanche of half burnt clothes.

Haarlep lay on their side, one of their arms stretched out as if they’d tried to reach out to him in.

Raphael rushed over, kneeling down besides their body, lifting their torso off the ground, not even thinking about if he might hurt them more by doing so.

The blood in his ears was so loud he could barely hear his own voice. “Haarlep- ?”

Relief flooded him when he noticed their eyelids flutter. For the hope only to be crushed a moment later, when Haarlep’s body shuddered in his arms and with the slightest sigh of them shifted back into their true form. Their breathing became so shallow it was barely noticeable. The lips paling with every passing second.

“No.”

He grabbed the body closer, lifting it up on his arms. There were so many wounds on them, scratches and bites and gore wounds from his own tusks. That was the price of ascending: a complete loss of control. There were only a few ways to bring himself back from this state and none of them were available at Aldi.

Raphael struggled to get back on his feet with their body in his arms. Then he made his way through the corpses, the smoke, the blood and the water on the ground towards the exit.

Smoke, fire, cherries. Haarlep’s eyelids fluttered. Shapes and lights without sense. A familiar pattern of fabric against their cheek. Why did they hurt so much?

A voice. His voice.

It worked.

“Why did you do this? Why did you come back, you fool?”

Haarlep’s throat was dry, but they tried to answer anyways. Half-conscious, only barely noticing they were carried.

“‘cause I love you.”

Before the last vowel left their lips, the world went back to black.

Raphael sat on the edge of the open back of the van, Haarlep in his lap. His trembling fingers rummaged through his stuff until he found what he had looked for. The last bottle of healing potion. Raphael uncorked it with his teeth. It was not much, but he prayed it would at least be able to bring them back from death’s door.

With bated breath he poured the red liquid into their half opened mouth.

They didn’t react. Instead they lay lifeless and limp.

“Don’t you dare to die on me now!”

Not now, after all they had gone through to get there. After hurt and battle and abandonment, after bitterness and revenge. After centuries of ignorance that at last had brought them where they were now: An Aldi parking lot with these last four words dying on Haarlep’s lips.

“Swallow it, you stubborn imp!”

Raphael moved their head and finally the potion made its way down the incubus throat.

It showed its effect immediately. The deepest of the gore wounds closed under new sapphire skin, a crack suggested that the broken ribs snapped back into place. It wouldn’t cure them, Raphael knew it, but he wished, he begged it would be enough.

Anxious he watched for any sign of consciousness. An indication that they would live. He didn’t notice how tight his hands grabbed Haarlep or that his foot tapped the ground repeatedly.

A faint sound of bells …

Haarlep twitched. The tip of their tail was the first thing to move and it curled, looking for something to cling to. A staggering deep breath filled their lungs with air, so unexpected it caused them to choke. A hand held theirs.

“It’s alright. You will be alright.” The words repeated like a prayer.

In an outbreak of effort Haarlep sat up and clung to the body holding them. Their breath was still ragged, but it slowed, when they realized he was real. He was there.

“Raphael.”

A few moments passed.

“Are you … crying?”

“Of course not.”

Exposing the lie, Haarlep felt his lips pressing against their temple and a distinct shiver running through Raphael’s body. They didn’t mind. Instead they let their fingers caress the blue fabric under them, bumping over the buttons and the golden embroidery. Then they remembered what had woken them up.

“You jingle.”

“What?”

“Your boots - This is your doublet.” They lifted their head just enough to look at Raphael for the first time. He was in his cambion shape, tall and regal and his horns bent in their perfect curves.

“You have got your memories back.”

“What?”

“You have - What do you remember?”

But if that was true, why was he here then? Why did he bother to pick up Haarlep and heal them? Shouldn’t he drop them and let them die for what they had done to him?

“I remember the hells … The House of Hope.” For a moment Raphael’s gaze went blank as if he stared into a distant realm. “There was Tav, they - And Hope. She was free.”

“I killed her …” Haarlep whispered. They didn’t move. They were too exhausted and also too desperate to let go of this precious moment, whatever had caused it.

“Good.”

Haarlep lifted their head a bit more and looked around. “Where is Korilla?”

“She left.”

“She - No, She would never . Especially not after you got your memories back. It was all she desired, for you to be restored. You took the hag’s deal.”

“I didn’t.”

“But why do you remember?” At this point, Haarlep was pure confusion.

“I ascended. My guess is that the rupture of my whole being broke down the barrier around my memory. The hag, Ethel, told me it was brittle.” Raphael’s thoughts seemed to trail off. “The commander told me they had kidnapped you. It was a lie.”

By the hells, don’t tell me you ascended for me. I couldn’t bear it.

“I didn’t even know they were on you again, I just - I just tried to follow you.” Haarlep took another breath, then they dared to ask the question that burned in their chest, more painful than any of their remaining bruises. “If you remember - I still betrayed you. Why-?” They tried to remove themselves from his lap, but a hand on their back of their head locked them in place.

“I remember. You have paid the price in full.” His fingers started to massage their scalp. Then he added, “I remember all of it.”

Haarlep knew that was as much of an apology they would ever get, but they were content. It was Raphael. They wouldn’t want him any other way. And he was there now.

The next thing Raphael said was: “We need to move.”

Haarlep lifted their head again.

“We're not safe here.”

“Did you find out who sends these goons?”

Raphael shook his head. “No. But it’s only a matter of time until they come back in numbers. We need to go.”

Haarlep nodded and they both changed into their human guises. After that Haarlep was so exhausted that Raphael had to help them back into the car seat. It was absurd to be back in the yellow van as if nothing had ever happened. Instead -

Raphael stayed bent over them for a moment after he was done strapping them in, an indecipherable look in his eyes.

“I want to kiss you.”

Something like ice cold fire rushed down into Haarlep’s guts and in their weak and defenseless state they had to fight tears immediately. But still a last crumb of doubt remained. “Are you serious?”

“I mean it. If you will have me.”

Haarlep nodded before their lips met each other for an uncharacteristically brisk and careful kiss.

Then Raphael climbed back into the drivers seat, the engine started in sync with a new playlist and once they left the parking lot, they could already see the first black car in the back mirror.

We said, no more war, no more clothes

Give me peace

Oh, kiss me

We are a hurricane

Drop our anchors in a storm

[A few miles have gone by and Haarlep is recovering quickly. Maybe too quickly for Raphael’s taste.]

“Looks like they're catching up. Can't you drive faster?”

“Easy for you to say as a passenger princess!”

“Better a passenger princess than a pillow princess.”

“I am - I will show you how much of a pillow princess I am once your wounds have healed.”

“I can’t wait.”

For a moment Raphael took his eyes off the road to look at them. The corners of his mouth curled up and the brightness in his eyes disregarded the troubling situation they again found themselves in. Haarlep smiled back.

“Hey, you kept my curling trophy. Perfect.”

“What are you -?”

The sound of shattering glass and a car crash behind them.

“Imp's nuts!”

THE END

THE END?

The scent of cinnamon still lingered on the sheets when Raphael turned around sleepily. He reached for his incubus, but Haarlep must have already left the bed.

Already -

Most likely they hadn’t even gone to sleep after their sex and the cuddles. It was Raphael who was the early riser of them and Haarlep often stayed up all night doing hells know what until they finally joined him in bed in the early morning hours.

It was a wonder they had found a rhythm. Everything about the last few days was wondrous, wondrous and wonderful. Sharing a bed and waking up with Haarlep either asleep at his side, or snuggled up to his chest. Watching shows together, picking up drinks from the coffee shop together, having Haarlep sit in his lap when Raphael worked at his new desk, making plans. The kisses, the bickering -

After two days of this, Haarlep had admitted they had never seen Raphael laugh before. And they were right. He had never felt free enough to give in to such a worldly thing as laughter. In a way he was grateful for this life, away from hell and its laws to catch their breath.

He was aware that it wouldn’t go on forever and neither did he want that. Mephistopheles still had a hold on them and eventually he would go and rectify that. But he needed a plan to do so - and power. At least the unknown enemy on this plane seemed to have lost their track.

Where is Haarlep?

Raphael got up and slipped into a fluffy bathrobe before stepping out of their bedroom to look for his incubus. They were back in Haarlep’s loft after installing a better security system, both electrical and magical.

Raphael took a moment to look out of the window front down on the city where he had delivered parcels not so long ago. Though, the only thing he saw was the fingerprints and stains on the glass, remains of getting f*cked against it the other night.

Raphael grinned and wandered downstairs to pour himself a coffee, using a manual espresso maker instead of the monstrosity that would cost him all his nerve. He expected to see Haarlep lounging in the kitchen or the sunroom, but they were nowhere to be found. With a growing feeling of uneasiness Raphael abandoned his coffee to look for his them. He searched the whole apartment, but there was no sign of them, just some clothes on the floor as if they had changed - to head out maybe?

Can’t you just leave a note like any sensible being?

Raphael headed to the front door to check for clues there, but stopped in his tracks abruptly when he saw a sheet of paper on the doormat that must have slipped through the mail slot. With a thrumming heart he picked it up.

It appeared to be a regular letter, only that it was closed with a seal of pure gold.

Raphael examined and broke it. Then he opened the letter with trembling hands. It only contained four words:

Come and get them.