Fic: Give the Demon His Due
Title: Give the Demon His Due
Author: jenlynn820
Pairing: Chris Pine/Zachary Quinto
Rating: NC17
Warnings: demons, blood, magic, AU
Disclaimer: I don’t know Zach or Chris and I make no profit from this work.
Summary: Chris Pine is a grad student turned demon hunter. He uses guns and brawn to keep New York City safe. Chris finds himself thrown together with New York City’s other resident demon hunter, a sorcerer called Zachary Quinto. They go on the hunt for a deadly blood drinking fiend and make some magic of their own.
Beta: eruberueth
Note: For Halloween! :D
Word Count: 4171
New York City was rife with demons. It made sense, when you thought about it. This was the melting pot of the world, wasn’t it? People of every race, religion, and background came to New York, dreaming of a new life, a new start. With so many millions of people focused inward, worrying about their jobs, their friends, their families, who they were going to fuck this weekend, who would really notice the strange man with the amber eyes? Or the woman, who when you caught her in your peripheral vision, seemed more reptile than human. The hustle, the bustle the me me me of it all, made New York the perfect place for a demon to settle down.
The only truly amazing thing was that it hadn’t happened sooner. Until very recently demons were mostly found in the Old World. They came through the cracks. Not literal cracks. Not cracks in walls. More like tears if you wanted to be technical. Tears in the fabric of the dimension this world inhabited. Those tears, for whatever reason, were mostly found in Europe. Occasionally Asia. But never the New World. Until now.
The scholars that study these things: the occult, demonology, witchcraft, and so on, they believed that the dimensional rifts in Europe were natural occurrences. That wasn’t the case in America. In America, specifically in New York City, someone-or rather something had gone and ripped a hole in the world. And through that hole, just like every immigrant before them, demons came into the city and made themselves at home.
After the demons arrived the hunters followed. That’s where Chris came in. Chris Pine stood six feet four with blue eyes and sandy brown hair. Lovers told him that his eyes were no blue they’d ever seen before, not even in one of those boxes of 64 colors Crayola put out. He attended NYU where he was close to getting his Masters. That was six months ago. Now he was a drop out who spent his days sleeping and his nights covered in demon blood. And all thanks to one very strange parcel from England that came via UPS.
Inside the parcel were a book, a handwritten note, and a clear glass vial with an ornate stopper. The book was in a language Chris could not read and wasn’t written in any alphabet he’d ever seen. And he was a student of ancient languages. The note was from someone who claimed to be a relative. It said very cryptically that the time had come and to open the vial and take his place in the world. Chris’s lover at the time, Michael, had laughed and thought it must be a friend playing a prank. Chris had laughed, too, but inside-inside his had heart raced, his throat became painfully dry.
Michael urged Chris to open the vial but Chris balked, saying it might be dangerous. Michael had laughed some more and chided him for being a pussy. That was enough to rile Chris who unstopped the bottle seconds later to prove he certainly wasn’t a pussy. When nothing had happened Michael laughed again and headed out for his evening class. Two days later Chris dumped his boyfriend. Two days after that he woke up in the early morning while the sky was still pitch black with a massive headache, his vision swimming and his stomach churning. After losing his dinner from the night before, he stumbled back to his bedroom and turned on the lamp, sitting down at his desk.
He happened to notice the book from the parcel he’d received sitting on the floor. Chris bent to pick it up and blinked a few times. The language which he’d never seen was suddenly all too familiar. He opened the book and found that he could read every line, every last word, like he’d been born speaking this language. In fact, he was, wasn’t he? Memories came back, of other lives that were not his own and yet were.
Chris found out that the life he’d lived was just a placeholder for another. A calling to a larger purpose. He left NYU that same day and began his new life that night by killing his first demon.
****
The thing-the demon-screeched as Chris hit it with a two by four. He wished he’d had his crossbow or even his handgun. Unfortunately, his gun and crossbow were back in his apartment along with the rest of his weapons. Chris wasn’t used this, demons attacking him. It was generally the other way around and he liked it a lot better that way. Chris wasn’t even supposed to be working tonight. He was taking what he considered to be a much deserved night off to hit a few bars, have a few drinks, flirt with some cute guys. He might have a sacred calling but he was still Chris, just with a new and interesting profession. The thing that sucked was that he had possibly the coolest job in New York and he couldn’t even use it to pick up guys. Despite the fact that he had to keep it a secret from civilians, who would even believe him? “Hi, I’m Chris, I hunt demons professionally, so what do you do?” wasn’t exactly the pickup line of the century.
The demon rushed Chris, pushing him back and hitting him hard against the brick wall. An oomph escaped Chris’s lips. He kicked the demon off of him and looked around for something else to grab to use as a weapon. Before he could reach the pipe that lay a few feet away, the demon extended its claws and slashed across his arms. “Fucking hell!” Chris yelled, pain searing through his flesh, feeling an instant burning sensation. He twisted and rolled onto the ground and grabbed the pipe.
Another quick maneuver and Chris was behind the demon, slamming it over the head with the metal. He hit it again and it finally staggered, falling to its knees. Chris was about to take another swing when he saw a flash of light and looked up. “Oh for fuck’s sake,” he said.
Chris knew the man that now stood at the end of the alley. His name was Zachary Quinto and he was New York’s other resident demon hunter. Except where Chris used brawn and heavy artillery as his weapons of choice, Zach was more magically inclined. They worked separately and kept out of each other’s ways.
A ball of energy spun and twisted in Zach’s hand. The man muttered something and the ball streaked towards the demon. It hit it hard and a few seconds later the creature shrieked and disintegrated.
Chris shook his head and tossed the pipe aside. “I had that handled,” he said.
The other man smirked and closed the gap between them. He eyed up Chris’s wound. “Yeah, it looks that way.”
“I did!” Chris seethed. “I certainly didn’t need you dashing in and going all Harry Potter on the situation.”
“You’re welcome.”
Chris exhaled. “What the hell are you doing here anyway, Zach?”
Zachary smiled again. He ran his fingers through his dark hair. He stood at just about the same height as Chris but was a touch lankier. “Other than saving your ass? Tracking a Na’an demon, actually.”
“That wasn’t a Na’an.”
“I know that. I’m using a spell to find the Na’an but I lost the scent. I was about to double back; try something else when I heard a ruckus. Lucky for you I was here.”
“I could have taken him myself,” Chris said. “It wouldn’t have been a contest if he hadn’t jumped me on my night off.”
“Your night off? Since when do you take time off?”
“Since I realized that all work and no play makes Chris a dull boy,” Chris said. “When was the last time you took a break, Zach?”
“I-I don’t remember.”
“I rest my case,” Chris said. He felt a stab of pain in his arm and reached for it instinctively. “Holy fuck,” he bit out as his touch made it feel even worse.
“That was a Kryx, wasn’t it?” Zach said, bending his neck and eyeing the wound on Chris’s arm.
“Yeah,” Chris said, feeling a touch woozy now.
“Their claws are venomous, you know,” he said.
“I know. I’ve got some demon anti-venom in my bag…” Chris began.
Zach looked around. “Where’s your bag?”
“With my weapons. Back at my place,” Chris said and then wobbled.
Zach was next to him in an instant, arm underneath his, supporting him. “You’d better come with me,” he said.
They started to walk. “Where are we going?”
“My place to get you patched up,” Zach explained.
Chris made a face. “I always knew it,” he said.
“Knew what?”
“That you had a crush on me,” Chris said, a smile twisting the corners of his mouth.
Zach raised an eyebrow as they made it down the block and turned the corner. “And how do you figure that?”
“You’re into all that magic mumbo jumbo, why don’t you just zap me with some of your voodoo and fix me up instead of getting me back to your place?”
Zach laughed. “’Cause my magic mumbo jumbo is of the killing demons variety not the heal Chris because even though he’s the scourge of the demon world he thought he could wander the streets of New York unarmed at night just because he was horny and internet porn wouldn’t do.”
Chris looked at Zach. “Sometimes internet porn just isn’t enough,” he said with a little nod, emphasizing the universal truth of that statement.
They made it the rest of the way in silence. Once inside Zach’s loft he sat Chris down on the bed and retrieved the first-aid kit. Chris watched Zach mix up the anti venom. “Hurry up, would you? I’m seeing three of you…”
Zach frowned. “Take your shirt off,” he said. He saw Chris grin. “So I can clean your arm, dumb ass.”
“Oh,” Chris said. He removed his shirt, which was no easy feat. Zach sat on the bed and first cleaned the wound with alcohol. Chris gritted his teeth and refused to scream.
“This is going to hurt even more,” Zach warned, showing Chris the thick yellow liquid that he poured onto a gauze pad.
Chris nodded and closed his eyes. “Jesus fucking Christ!” he bellowed when the liquid touched the wounds. He reflexively grabbed hold of Zach’s free hand with his.
Zach swabbed the entire area, holding Chris’s hand the entire time. When he was done he watched the other man’s chest rise and fall, starting to slow as the pain subsided. Chris looked up and their eyes met. “The pain’ll be gone in a few minutes.”
“Thanks,” Chris said, his voice a little shaky.
“I need to cover the wound,” Zach said.
“Okay,” Chris said.
Zach smiled softly. “I need my other hand for that.”
Chris felt his cheeks flush as he realized their fingers were still intertwined. He pulled his hand back. “Sorry,” he said.
“No problem,” Zach winked. He used some more gauze and some medical tape to bandage up the injury. He got off the bed and cleaned up before going to the dresser and tossing a t-shirt Chris’s way.
“Thanks,” Chris said, carefully pulling it on. He started to wander around Zach’s apartment. It was a mess with books and bottles everywhere. A sweet burnt scent filled the air, the scent of magic. It wasn’t the clean smell of white magic or the rancid stink of black magic.
Chris’s arm still felt sore but was rapidly improving. He wondered if Zach’s anti-venom had some supernatural kick despite the other man claiming he only did demon killing magic. Chris looked over at Zach who was rifling through a collection of bottles filled with various multicolored liquids. This was probably the most time they’d ever spent together since they’d met. Zach had been killing demons before Chris even knew there were such things and didn’t seem to appreciate Chris’s arrival on the scene. Chris thought it was probably because he was prettier.
He grinned to himself and thought better of that. Zach was plenty pretty. Okay, not pretty, you couldn’t call someone with Zach’s wild black hair, thick brows and angular features pretty. Fucking hot, yeah, but not pretty.
“I hate those fucking bitches,” Chris said, feeling the need to end the silence and stop his inappropriate lusting.
Zach laughed. “You’re just lucky that was a female.”
Chris crossed over to the other man. “Why’s that?”
Zach didn’t look up. “The Kryx males impregnate anything they can. Unlike the females’ claws, the males’ contain the spores used for propagation.”
Chris’s eyes went wide. “They have sperm in their claws?”
Zach smirked. “It’s not really sperm. It’s more like a virus or bacteria that runs through the blood system. At least that’s my understanding, demon procreation was never my forte,” he said.
“And they can knock up humans?”
“Humans, dogs, chickens. Almost anything can be a vessel,” Zach said.
“That’s disgusting,” Chris said. “You’re sure that was a female?”
Zach laughed now. “Yeah. But we can pick up a demon pregnancy test at the drugstore later and you can pee on a stick if you want to be sure.”
Chris smiled despite himself. “I’ll take your word for it,” he said. There was a pause in conversation. “What are you looking for?”
“This,” Zach said, lifting a bottle filled with glowing purple liquid. He removed the stopper and in a flash downed the contents.
“What was that?” Chris asked.
Zach grinned and stretched his palms out. His hands emanated purple light that was the same color that was in the bottle seconds ago and then faded away. “You know Sting?”
Chris made a confused face. “Sting? Like de do do do de da da da, Sting?”
Zach laughed. “No. Frodo’s sword from Lord of the Rings.” Chris blinked. “Doesn’t anyone read or watch movies anymore? It glows blue when Orcs are close. Like an early warning system. That’s just a little concoction I mixed up to basically glow purple when the Na’an are in the vicinity.”
“Trippy,” Chris said. “I didn’t know there were Na’an in New York. I thought they kept to Germany, France.”
“They did but like all their brethren they decided to find fresh blood. Literally,” Zach said. He was moving again, throwing items into a messenger bag.
“It’s true then, they drink blood? Like vampires?”
“They drink blood, they eat still beating hearts. They’re a riot,” Zach said. “And sadistic, even for demons. They like to keep their victims alive for as long as they can, keep their food fresh.”
Chris felt his stomach lurch. “You’re going out now to find it?” he said.
Zach nodded. “This thing came through a portal less than a day ago. It hasn’t gotten to do much damage yet but that’s just luck. I need to kill it before it can.”
“And you can find it with your glowing-hands-geeky Lord of the Rings spell?”
“I have a basic idea where it is. Just got to get close.”
“I’m coming with you,” Chris said.
Zach raised an eyebrow. “Who says I want you to?”
“I’ve read about the Na’an. They’re over eight feet tall? Four hundred pounds? Resistant to magic?”
“I’ve got a spell that should work.”
“Should? You need me. I’ve got the brawn; you’ve got the sparkly magic shit.”
Zach frowned and then nodded. “Fine. Just don’t get in my way.”
Chris grinned triumphantly. “Wouldn’t dream of it,” he said. “We just need to stop at my place so I can mount up.”
Zach moved to the door and opened it. “Brawn before beauty,” he said.
Chris laughed and they both headed out.
*****
The Na’an was in an abandoned warehouse about three blocks from the area Zach had thought it’d be. His skin glowed bright purple all at once and before Chris could spin to scope the area he was hoisted off the ground and tossed aside like yesterday’s garbage.
Zach scrambled to cast a spell. It was a simple one meant only to slow the demon’s movements but it had no impact at all. Zach incanted another hex that should have blown the demon back several feet but fluttered around him like a light summer breeze. “Shit,” Zach muttered.
Chris was on his feet and firing several arrows in the demons direction. They hit it and lodged into its leathery skin but seconds later fell off like a bird molting feathers. Chris grimaced and pulled his gun out of his hip holster. He squeezed off a few rounds and the bullets hit their target but still didn’t seem to slow the creature.
The Na’an rushed Chris, seizing him in its hands and lifting him off his feet before dropping him like a rag doll. The demon kicked his head, stomped on his stomach. A flash of light stopped the onslaught and Chris knew Zach had found a spell that had at least some effect, knocking the demon back several feet.
Blood streamed out of Chris’s nostrils. He was used to taking beatings but he’d never fought anything as big or strong as the Na’an. Eight feet tall was an understatement. The thing was at least ten feet and solid with razors along each of its four arms and dozens of gleaming teeth that looked like ice picks.
It didn’t take long for the demon to recover and go after Zach. Chris had lost his gun in the last attack and looked around for it. It was only a few feet away. He rushed for it as the demon wailed on Zach. Chris picked up the weapon and aimed for the demon’s head. Once again he hit it and at least this time the Na’an flinched and turned its attention back to Chris.
“Come and get me, big boy,” Chris said, gesturing with both hands, spitting out some blood. The demon growled and flew towards him and they hit the wall with a crunch. Chris’s vision swam as he kicked and pushed desperately at the demon.
Zach had struggled to his feet, blood pouring from a gash along the right side of his face. He stood behind the demon and closed his eyes. He started to speak in a language older than time itself.
The words reached the Na’an’s ears and it let go of Chris all at once, as if just the soft sound of Zach’s voice was painful. The demon advanced on Zach.
Chris’s eyes were fixed on the other man. Sparks danced in Zach’s hands, his eyes flared with white heat, the pupils completely obscured. Seconds later power poured out of Zach and surged towards the demon, surrounding it in a thick glowing haze.
The demon screamed and spun. In anger and pain it grabbed hold of Chris. Chris screamed too, the magic burned his skin. He kicked hard at the demon and dislodged himself from its arms. He pulled a jagged edged knife from his thigh holster and plunged it into the demon’s throat before stumbling back.
The creature’s head lolled and the white cloud dissolved leaving a dead Na’an in its wake. The knife remained stuck in its throat. Chris drew in a deep breath and looked over at Zach. Zach came over to him and stretched his hand out.
Chris reached up and took it and Zach pulled him to his feet. They stood toe to toe. Chris could see the blood already drying along Zach’s cheek, could see the wildness in his eyes. “That was some spell,” he rasped.
“It wouldn’t have worked without the knife in the throat,” he breathed. Zach looked Chris up and down. “You in one piece?” The look on his face was a mingling of concern and…
Chris laughed roughly. He was breathing a little hard and Zach was so close. “I think so. But why don’t you check, just to be sure…”
Zach’s fingers came against Chris’s face at first, sliding down slowly, the dirt and blood on his own hand mingling with that on Chris. His hand slid down Chris’s chest, over his thumping heart. Their eyes were locked and Chris licked his lips before he pounced. He grabbed hold of Zach’s face and smashed their mouths together.
The kiss was maniacal, adrenaline fueled. The pain that spiked through him as their bodies pressed together only heightened the thrill, only made the pleasure richer. They pushed so close together that Chris could feel how hard Zach was already. He tore his mouth free. “You want me to fuck you.” He said it like a statement of fact rather than a question.
Zach nodded eagerly and they kissed again, stumbling together until Chris was against a wall and Zach was pumping his hips, rubbing their cocks together through the rough fabric of their jeans. Chris moaned and shoved Zach back towards a dusty drop cloth in the near corner.
There was nothing yielding about the hard concrete floor that they settled down against. But that didn’t matter to either man. The fire of their kiss, the frantic ache inside them both, that’s what counted. Chris tore at Zach’s clothes until he had the man sufficiently naked. He tossed his own t-shirt aside and pushed his jeans off. He slung Zach’s calves over his shoulders and caught his mouth in a feral kiss, tongue pushing past the other man’s teeth.
Chris bore his hips down and pressed himself against Zach’s entrance. He stopped kissing Zach for a moment and their eyes met.
“That blue,” Zach said. “That blue doesn’t even exist…”
Chris ran his fingers against Zach’s jaw, blood and dirt smudging together. “This is going to hurt,” he said, his voice low.
“Good,” Zach said, grabbing Chris’s face and beginning another wild kiss.
Chris moaned and bucked forward, slamming his cock into Zach in one hard, violent thrust. Zach shuddered, his nails digging into Chris’s neck. Chris sucked on Zach’s tongue and held his hips. The tremors that ran through Zach’s body made Chris twitch. He gripped Zach more tightly and began to thrust.
Zach tore his mouth free and cried out as Chris started to fuck him. They rocked together, the pace brutal, every thrust deep and punishing. There was too much death in their line of work. Too much cold. Too many things that were fantastical. This was none of that. This was hot and human and so very real.
Zach was still wild eyed, his lips parted, his skin covered in a sheen of sweat. Chris kissed him again, sucking on his lower lip as he intensified the rhythm, as he pounded the other man’s body. He slipped his hand between Zach’s legs and took hold of the other man’s cock, squeezing hard, jerking roughly.
They moved as one, their hearts beating fast. Zach came first, his cries filling the warehouse, his body shaking. A sobbing moan fell from Chris’s lips as Zach’s body pulsed and constricted around his cock. He let out a roar as he came, as ecstasy knifed through every inch of him. He crashed down against Zach in a spent heap, gasping for air.
Zach’s legs slid off Chris’s shoulders and Chris felt Zach’s fingers move idly against his back. He lifted his head and looked down at the other man.
Zach reached out and touched Chris’s face. “You’re covered in blood and bruises and dirt. Good thing I’m not a germaphobe or anything.”
Chris laughed breathily. “We’re both covered in blood and bruises and dirt. We could use a good hosing down,” he said.
Zach smirked. “Your place or mine?”
Chris lifted his eyebrows. “What exactly are we doing here?”
“Well, we fought and killed a demon and then fucked our brains out. And now I’d like to get a shower and some food. In that order. With or without you. I prefer with.”
Chris grinned. “You like burgers? ’Cause the diner by my place makes a fucking mean chipotle burger that’s smothered in bleu cheese and bacon.”
“Your place it is then,” Zach said.
They kissed again before disentangling and getting dressed. They gathered any supplies they’d brought with them and Zach was glad to see the Na’an had turned into nothing more than a black slick against the ground.
The night air was cool as they got outside. They walked close, shoulders bumping occasionally. “We should do this again sometime,” Chris said as they headed down into the subway to get a train.
“Fuck? Or hunt demons together?” Zach asked, with a smirk.
“Hunt demons, of course. Fucking again is a given,” Chris said, flashing Zach a wide grin. The train pulled to a stop in front of them and Chris took Zach’s hand and tugged. He pulled the other man into the car and up against him, starting a blistering kiss just as the subway doors slid shut.
~fin~
Author: jenlynn820
Pairing: Chris Pine/Zachary Quinto
Rating: NC17
Warnings: demons, blood, magic, AU
Disclaimer: I don’t know Zach or Chris and I make no profit from this work.
Summary: Chris Pine is a grad student turned demon hunter. He uses guns and brawn to keep New York City safe. Chris finds himself thrown together with New York City’s other resident demon hunter, a sorcerer called Zachary Quinto. They go on the hunt for a deadly blood drinking fiend and make some magic of their own.
Beta: eruberueth
Note: For Halloween! :D
Word Count: 4171
New York City was rife with demons. It made sense, when you thought about it. This was the melting pot of the world, wasn’t it? People of every race, religion, and background came to New York, dreaming of a new life, a new start. With so many millions of people focused inward, worrying about their jobs, their friends, their families, who they were going to fuck this weekend, who would really notice the strange man with the amber eyes? Or the woman, who when you caught her in your peripheral vision, seemed more reptile than human. The hustle, the bustle the me me me of it all, made New York the perfect place for a demon to settle down.
The only truly amazing thing was that it hadn’t happened sooner. Until very recently demons were mostly found in the Old World. They came through the cracks. Not literal cracks. Not cracks in walls. More like tears if you wanted to be technical. Tears in the fabric of the dimension this world inhabited. Those tears, for whatever reason, were mostly found in Europe. Occasionally Asia. But never the New World. Until now.
The scholars that study these things: the occult, demonology, witchcraft, and so on, they believed that the dimensional rifts in Europe were natural occurrences. That wasn’t the case in America. In America, specifically in New York City, someone-or rather something had gone and ripped a hole in the world. And through that hole, just like every immigrant before them, demons came into the city and made themselves at home.
After the demons arrived the hunters followed. That’s where Chris came in. Chris Pine stood six feet four with blue eyes and sandy brown hair. Lovers told him that his eyes were no blue they’d ever seen before, not even in one of those boxes of 64 colors Crayola put out. He attended NYU where he was close to getting his Masters. That was six months ago. Now he was a drop out who spent his days sleeping and his nights covered in demon blood. And all thanks to one very strange parcel from England that came via UPS.
Inside the parcel were a book, a handwritten note, and a clear glass vial with an ornate stopper. The book was in a language Chris could not read and wasn’t written in any alphabet he’d ever seen. And he was a student of ancient languages. The note was from someone who claimed to be a relative. It said very cryptically that the time had come and to open the vial and take his place in the world. Chris’s lover at the time, Michael, had laughed and thought it must be a friend playing a prank. Chris had laughed, too, but inside-inside his had heart raced, his throat became painfully dry.
Michael urged Chris to open the vial but Chris balked, saying it might be dangerous. Michael had laughed some more and chided him for being a pussy. That was enough to rile Chris who unstopped the bottle seconds later to prove he certainly wasn’t a pussy. When nothing had happened Michael laughed again and headed out for his evening class. Two days later Chris dumped his boyfriend. Two days after that he woke up in the early morning while the sky was still pitch black with a massive headache, his vision swimming and his stomach churning. After losing his dinner from the night before, he stumbled back to his bedroom and turned on the lamp, sitting down at his desk.
He happened to notice the book from the parcel he’d received sitting on the floor. Chris bent to pick it up and blinked a few times. The language which he’d never seen was suddenly all too familiar. He opened the book and found that he could read every line, every last word, like he’d been born speaking this language. In fact, he was, wasn’t he? Memories came back, of other lives that were not his own and yet were.
Chris found out that the life he’d lived was just a placeholder for another. A calling to a larger purpose. He left NYU that same day and began his new life that night by killing his first demon.
****
The thing-the demon-screeched as Chris hit it with a two by four. He wished he’d had his crossbow or even his handgun. Unfortunately, his gun and crossbow were back in his apartment along with the rest of his weapons. Chris wasn’t used this, demons attacking him. It was generally the other way around and he liked it a lot better that way. Chris wasn’t even supposed to be working tonight. He was taking what he considered to be a much deserved night off to hit a few bars, have a few drinks, flirt with some cute guys. He might have a sacred calling but he was still Chris, just with a new and interesting profession. The thing that sucked was that he had possibly the coolest job in New York and he couldn’t even use it to pick up guys. Despite the fact that he had to keep it a secret from civilians, who would even believe him? “Hi, I’m Chris, I hunt demons professionally, so what do you do?” wasn’t exactly the pickup line of the century.
The demon rushed Chris, pushing him back and hitting him hard against the brick wall. An oomph escaped Chris’s lips. He kicked the demon off of him and looked around for something else to grab to use as a weapon. Before he could reach the pipe that lay a few feet away, the demon extended its claws and slashed across his arms. “Fucking hell!” Chris yelled, pain searing through his flesh, feeling an instant burning sensation. He twisted and rolled onto the ground and grabbed the pipe.
Another quick maneuver and Chris was behind the demon, slamming it over the head with the metal. He hit it again and it finally staggered, falling to its knees. Chris was about to take another swing when he saw a flash of light and looked up. “Oh for fuck’s sake,” he said.
Chris knew the man that now stood at the end of the alley. His name was Zachary Quinto and he was New York’s other resident demon hunter. Except where Chris used brawn and heavy artillery as his weapons of choice, Zach was more magically inclined. They worked separately and kept out of each other’s ways.
A ball of energy spun and twisted in Zach’s hand. The man muttered something and the ball streaked towards the demon. It hit it hard and a few seconds later the creature shrieked and disintegrated.
Chris shook his head and tossed the pipe aside. “I had that handled,” he said.
The other man smirked and closed the gap between them. He eyed up Chris’s wound. “Yeah, it looks that way.”
“I did!” Chris seethed. “I certainly didn’t need you dashing in and going all Harry Potter on the situation.”
“You’re welcome.”
Chris exhaled. “What the hell are you doing here anyway, Zach?”
Zachary smiled again. He ran his fingers through his dark hair. He stood at just about the same height as Chris but was a touch lankier. “Other than saving your ass? Tracking a Na’an demon, actually.”
“That wasn’t a Na’an.”
“I know that. I’m using a spell to find the Na’an but I lost the scent. I was about to double back; try something else when I heard a ruckus. Lucky for you I was here.”
“I could have taken him myself,” Chris said. “It wouldn’t have been a contest if he hadn’t jumped me on my night off.”
“Your night off? Since when do you take time off?”
“Since I realized that all work and no play makes Chris a dull boy,” Chris said. “When was the last time you took a break, Zach?”
“I-I don’t remember.”
“I rest my case,” Chris said. He felt a stab of pain in his arm and reached for it instinctively. “Holy fuck,” he bit out as his touch made it feel even worse.
“That was a Kryx, wasn’t it?” Zach said, bending his neck and eyeing the wound on Chris’s arm.
“Yeah,” Chris said, feeling a touch woozy now.
“Their claws are venomous, you know,” he said.
“I know. I’ve got some demon anti-venom in my bag…” Chris began.
Zach looked around. “Where’s your bag?”
“With my weapons. Back at my place,” Chris said and then wobbled.
Zach was next to him in an instant, arm underneath his, supporting him. “You’d better come with me,” he said.
They started to walk. “Where are we going?”
“My place to get you patched up,” Zach explained.
Chris made a face. “I always knew it,” he said.
“Knew what?”
“That you had a crush on me,” Chris said, a smile twisting the corners of his mouth.
Zach raised an eyebrow as they made it down the block and turned the corner. “And how do you figure that?”
“You’re into all that magic mumbo jumbo, why don’t you just zap me with some of your voodoo and fix me up instead of getting me back to your place?”
Zach laughed. “’Cause my magic mumbo jumbo is of the killing demons variety not the heal Chris because even though he’s the scourge of the demon world he thought he could wander the streets of New York unarmed at night just because he was horny and internet porn wouldn’t do.”
Chris looked at Zach. “Sometimes internet porn just isn’t enough,” he said with a little nod, emphasizing the universal truth of that statement.
They made it the rest of the way in silence. Once inside Zach’s loft he sat Chris down on the bed and retrieved the first-aid kit. Chris watched Zach mix up the anti venom. “Hurry up, would you? I’m seeing three of you…”
Zach frowned. “Take your shirt off,” he said. He saw Chris grin. “So I can clean your arm, dumb ass.”
“Oh,” Chris said. He removed his shirt, which was no easy feat. Zach sat on the bed and first cleaned the wound with alcohol. Chris gritted his teeth and refused to scream.
“This is going to hurt even more,” Zach warned, showing Chris the thick yellow liquid that he poured onto a gauze pad.
Chris nodded and closed his eyes. “Jesus fucking Christ!” he bellowed when the liquid touched the wounds. He reflexively grabbed hold of Zach’s free hand with his.
Zach swabbed the entire area, holding Chris’s hand the entire time. When he was done he watched the other man’s chest rise and fall, starting to slow as the pain subsided. Chris looked up and their eyes met. “The pain’ll be gone in a few minutes.”
“Thanks,” Chris said, his voice a little shaky.
“I need to cover the wound,” Zach said.
“Okay,” Chris said.
Zach smiled softly. “I need my other hand for that.”
Chris felt his cheeks flush as he realized their fingers were still intertwined. He pulled his hand back. “Sorry,” he said.
“No problem,” Zach winked. He used some more gauze and some medical tape to bandage up the injury. He got off the bed and cleaned up before going to the dresser and tossing a t-shirt Chris’s way.
“Thanks,” Chris said, carefully pulling it on. He started to wander around Zach’s apartment. It was a mess with books and bottles everywhere. A sweet burnt scent filled the air, the scent of magic. It wasn’t the clean smell of white magic or the rancid stink of black magic.
Chris’s arm still felt sore but was rapidly improving. He wondered if Zach’s anti-venom had some supernatural kick despite the other man claiming he only did demon killing magic. Chris looked over at Zach who was rifling through a collection of bottles filled with various multicolored liquids. This was probably the most time they’d ever spent together since they’d met. Zach had been killing demons before Chris even knew there were such things and didn’t seem to appreciate Chris’s arrival on the scene. Chris thought it was probably because he was prettier.
He grinned to himself and thought better of that. Zach was plenty pretty. Okay, not pretty, you couldn’t call someone with Zach’s wild black hair, thick brows and angular features pretty. Fucking hot, yeah, but not pretty.
“I hate those fucking bitches,” Chris said, feeling the need to end the silence and stop his inappropriate lusting.
Zach laughed. “You’re just lucky that was a female.”
Chris crossed over to the other man. “Why’s that?”
Zach didn’t look up. “The Kryx males impregnate anything they can. Unlike the females’ claws, the males’ contain the spores used for propagation.”
Chris’s eyes went wide. “They have sperm in their claws?”
Zach smirked. “It’s not really sperm. It’s more like a virus or bacteria that runs through the blood system. At least that’s my understanding, demon procreation was never my forte,” he said.
“And they can knock up humans?”
“Humans, dogs, chickens. Almost anything can be a vessel,” Zach said.
“That’s disgusting,” Chris said. “You’re sure that was a female?”
Zach laughed now. “Yeah. But we can pick up a demon pregnancy test at the drugstore later and you can pee on a stick if you want to be sure.”
Chris smiled despite himself. “I’ll take your word for it,” he said. There was a pause in conversation. “What are you looking for?”
“This,” Zach said, lifting a bottle filled with glowing purple liquid. He removed the stopper and in a flash downed the contents.
“What was that?” Chris asked.
Zach grinned and stretched his palms out. His hands emanated purple light that was the same color that was in the bottle seconds ago and then faded away. “You know Sting?”
Chris made a confused face. “Sting? Like de do do do de da da da, Sting?”
Zach laughed. “No. Frodo’s sword from Lord of the Rings.” Chris blinked. “Doesn’t anyone read or watch movies anymore? It glows blue when Orcs are close. Like an early warning system. That’s just a little concoction I mixed up to basically glow purple when the Na’an are in the vicinity.”
“Trippy,” Chris said. “I didn’t know there were Na’an in New York. I thought they kept to Germany, France.”
“They did but like all their brethren they decided to find fresh blood. Literally,” Zach said. He was moving again, throwing items into a messenger bag.
“It’s true then, they drink blood? Like vampires?”
“They drink blood, they eat still beating hearts. They’re a riot,” Zach said. “And sadistic, even for demons. They like to keep their victims alive for as long as they can, keep their food fresh.”
Chris felt his stomach lurch. “You’re going out now to find it?” he said.
Zach nodded. “This thing came through a portal less than a day ago. It hasn’t gotten to do much damage yet but that’s just luck. I need to kill it before it can.”
“And you can find it with your glowing-hands-geeky Lord of the Rings spell?”
“I have a basic idea where it is. Just got to get close.”
“I’m coming with you,” Chris said.
Zach raised an eyebrow. “Who says I want you to?”
“I’ve read about the Na’an. They’re over eight feet tall? Four hundred pounds? Resistant to magic?”
“I’ve got a spell that should work.”
“Should? You need me. I’ve got the brawn; you’ve got the sparkly magic shit.”
Zach frowned and then nodded. “Fine. Just don’t get in my way.”
Chris grinned triumphantly. “Wouldn’t dream of it,” he said. “We just need to stop at my place so I can mount up.”
Zach moved to the door and opened it. “Brawn before beauty,” he said.
Chris laughed and they both headed out.
*****
The Na’an was in an abandoned warehouse about three blocks from the area Zach had thought it’d be. His skin glowed bright purple all at once and before Chris could spin to scope the area he was hoisted off the ground and tossed aside like yesterday’s garbage.
Zach scrambled to cast a spell. It was a simple one meant only to slow the demon’s movements but it had no impact at all. Zach incanted another hex that should have blown the demon back several feet but fluttered around him like a light summer breeze. “Shit,” Zach muttered.
Chris was on his feet and firing several arrows in the demons direction. They hit it and lodged into its leathery skin but seconds later fell off like a bird molting feathers. Chris grimaced and pulled his gun out of his hip holster. He squeezed off a few rounds and the bullets hit their target but still didn’t seem to slow the creature.
The Na’an rushed Chris, seizing him in its hands and lifting him off his feet before dropping him like a rag doll. The demon kicked his head, stomped on his stomach. A flash of light stopped the onslaught and Chris knew Zach had found a spell that had at least some effect, knocking the demon back several feet.
Blood streamed out of Chris’s nostrils. He was used to taking beatings but he’d never fought anything as big or strong as the Na’an. Eight feet tall was an understatement. The thing was at least ten feet and solid with razors along each of its four arms and dozens of gleaming teeth that looked like ice picks.
It didn’t take long for the demon to recover and go after Zach. Chris had lost his gun in the last attack and looked around for it. It was only a few feet away. He rushed for it as the demon wailed on Zach. Chris picked up the weapon and aimed for the demon’s head. Once again he hit it and at least this time the Na’an flinched and turned its attention back to Chris.
“Come and get me, big boy,” Chris said, gesturing with both hands, spitting out some blood. The demon growled and flew towards him and they hit the wall with a crunch. Chris’s vision swam as he kicked and pushed desperately at the demon.
Zach had struggled to his feet, blood pouring from a gash along the right side of his face. He stood behind the demon and closed his eyes. He started to speak in a language older than time itself.
The words reached the Na’an’s ears and it let go of Chris all at once, as if just the soft sound of Zach’s voice was painful. The demon advanced on Zach.
Chris’s eyes were fixed on the other man. Sparks danced in Zach’s hands, his eyes flared with white heat, the pupils completely obscured. Seconds later power poured out of Zach and surged towards the demon, surrounding it in a thick glowing haze.
The demon screamed and spun. In anger and pain it grabbed hold of Chris. Chris screamed too, the magic burned his skin. He kicked hard at the demon and dislodged himself from its arms. He pulled a jagged edged knife from his thigh holster and plunged it into the demon’s throat before stumbling back.
The creature’s head lolled and the white cloud dissolved leaving a dead Na’an in its wake. The knife remained stuck in its throat. Chris drew in a deep breath and looked over at Zach. Zach came over to him and stretched his hand out.
Chris reached up and took it and Zach pulled him to his feet. They stood toe to toe. Chris could see the blood already drying along Zach’s cheek, could see the wildness in his eyes. “That was some spell,” he rasped.
“It wouldn’t have worked without the knife in the throat,” he breathed. Zach looked Chris up and down. “You in one piece?” The look on his face was a mingling of concern and…
Chris laughed roughly. He was breathing a little hard and Zach was so close. “I think so. But why don’t you check, just to be sure…”
Zach’s fingers came against Chris’s face at first, sliding down slowly, the dirt and blood on his own hand mingling with that on Chris. His hand slid down Chris’s chest, over his thumping heart. Their eyes were locked and Chris licked his lips before he pounced. He grabbed hold of Zach’s face and smashed their mouths together.
The kiss was maniacal, adrenaline fueled. The pain that spiked through him as their bodies pressed together only heightened the thrill, only made the pleasure richer. They pushed so close together that Chris could feel how hard Zach was already. He tore his mouth free. “You want me to fuck you.” He said it like a statement of fact rather than a question.
Zach nodded eagerly and they kissed again, stumbling together until Chris was against a wall and Zach was pumping his hips, rubbing their cocks together through the rough fabric of their jeans. Chris moaned and shoved Zach back towards a dusty drop cloth in the near corner.
There was nothing yielding about the hard concrete floor that they settled down against. But that didn’t matter to either man. The fire of their kiss, the frantic ache inside them both, that’s what counted. Chris tore at Zach’s clothes until he had the man sufficiently naked. He tossed his own t-shirt aside and pushed his jeans off. He slung Zach’s calves over his shoulders and caught his mouth in a feral kiss, tongue pushing past the other man’s teeth.
Chris bore his hips down and pressed himself against Zach’s entrance. He stopped kissing Zach for a moment and their eyes met.
“That blue,” Zach said. “That blue doesn’t even exist…”
Chris ran his fingers against Zach’s jaw, blood and dirt smudging together. “This is going to hurt,” he said, his voice low.
“Good,” Zach said, grabbing Chris’s face and beginning another wild kiss.
Chris moaned and bucked forward, slamming his cock into Zach in one hard, violent thrust. Zach shuddered, his nails digging into Chris’s neck. Chris sucked on Zach’s tongue and held his hips. The tremors that ran through Zach’s body made Chris twitch. He gripped Zach more tightly and began to thrust.
Zach tore his mouth free and cried out as Chris started to fuck him. They rocked together, the pace brutal, every thrust deep and punishing. There was too much death in their line of work. Too much cold. Too many things that were fantastical. This was none of that. This was hot and human and so very real.
Zach was still wild eyed, his lips parted, his skin covered in a sheen of sweat. Chris kissed him again, sucking on his lower lip as he intensified the rhythm, as he pounded the other man’s body. He slipped his hand between Zach’s legs and took hold of the other man’s cock, squeezing hard, jerking roughly.
They moved as one, their hearts beating fast. Zach came first, his cries filling the warehouse, his body shaking. A sobbing moan fell from Chris’s lips as Zach’s body pulsed and constricted around his cock. He let out a roar as he came, as ecstasy knifed through every inch of him. He crashed down against Zach in a spent heap, gasping for air.
Zach’s legs slid off Chris’s shoulders and Chris felt Zach’s fingers move idly against his back. He lifted his head and looked down at the other man.
Zach reached out and touched Chris’s face. “You’re covered in blood and bruises and dirt. Good thing I’m not a germaphobe or anything.”
Chris laughed breathily. “We’re both covered in blood and bruises and dirt. We could use a good hosing down,” he said.
Zach smirked. “Your place or mine?”
Chris lifted his eyebrows. “What exactly are we doing here?”
“Well, we fought and killed a demon and then fucked our brains out. And now I’d like to get a shower and some food. In that order. With or without you. I prefer with.”
Chris grinned. “You like burgers? ’Cause the diner by my place makes a fucking mean chipotle burger that’s smothered in bleu cheese and bacon.”
“Your place it is then,” Zach said.
They kissed again before disentangling and getting dressed. They gathered any supplies they’d brought with them and Zach was glad to see the Na’an had turned into nothing more than a black slick against the ground.
The night air was cool as they got outside. They walked close, shoulders bumping occasionally. “We should do this again sometime,” Chris said as they headed down into the subway to get a train.
“Fuck? Or hunt demons together?” Zach asked, with a smirk.
“Hunt demons, of course. Fucking again is a given,” Chris said, flashing Zach a wide grin. The train pulled to a stop in front of them and Chris took Zach’s hand and tugged. He pulled the other man into the car and up against him, starting a blistering kiss just as the subway doors slid shut.
~fin~