Fiction | Demonic Garage

Someone’s going to have to lend a hand.

© calibra

​The demon gave up on tempting Irwin from his seat in the back corner of Irwin’s garage. He’d sat on the raised platform by the door into the house too long, apparently. The metal legs of his chair clanged on the concrete floor.

“How long you gonna work on that car? I’ve been sitting here for a quarter of eternity.”

“An hour,” Irwin said, “not eternity. Something’s wrong with your sense of time.”

“Yeah, maybe I can’t sense what I have too much of.”

That sounded possible, an intriguing possibility and too much like a conversation starter, which meant it was a distraction. Irwin waved a wrench toward his Hell-born boyfriend. “Dam, I’ve got to fix this Fiat by tomorrow. You could help.”

Dam rolled his thin shoulders, enticingly bare in an oversized tank top. “No, thanks. You could take a break.”

“Not yet.” The Fiat Spider was a problem puzzle he needed to sort before its owner checked in tomorrow. His quoted payment would net him a month’s income. He and Dam could go out to eat and pay with money instead of using Dam’s persuasive (and unethical) spiritual powers.

Irwin sensed the change without looking. He couldn’t see the wrench in his hand or smell the acrid lubricants that permeated the garage. The only thing that mattered was the energizing scent of rain,… the memory of a warm tongue,… the feel of claws poking into his thighs. All he wanted to do was turn to the hot demon, to give in to his temptation.

“You know, I’ve asked you not to use that on me.”

“Kiiisss meeEee…” Dam moaned.

Irwin laughed. “Is that your compromise? Deal.”

Dam leaned forward in his chair with a grin showing the sharp tips of his canines. His tail snaked along a leg of his chair and flicked the ground. He was eager for what he was getting.

Irwin climbed his steps to the chair. Dam reached out with both arms and tail until Irwin was wrapped up, leaning down, braced on the chair’s arms, and rubbing his stubble on the side of the demon’s sensitive mouth.

“You said a ki — “

And that’s what he got. Irwin kissed him, claiming Dam’s top lip and pushing against his tongue, giving into the only thing that mattered. The kiss lasted less than an eternity, because nothing lasts that long.

Irwin pulled away, guiding Dam up with him. “You’re going to help me with the car.”

“But — “

“You’ll get another kiss every hour until we’re done.”

Dam glared at the Fiat. Then he dropped into Irwin’s shoulder with a sigh. “Deal.”


Originally published in P.S. I Love You.