Scribbles and Drabbles

Notebook Drabbles 18

Warning: Asexual issues? Be careful with your mindset. (This is partly based on a dream I had, so I'm blaming my mind for trying to come to terms with some things, not all true, but people are complicated.)

The demon around him hummed as his anxiety mixed in the air. The van shivered and the blankets tucked him in closer. It was stupid. Being concerned about something so small and unimportant. Only this was something that was going to be a concern in the real world too. Having no desire to have sex was going to be an obstacle to every relationship he'd find, straight, gay or otherwise. The feelings spun around the air until the small haven that was his van was too close, too small.

The impling appeared on the pillow next to his head, a hand combing through his hair. "Devon," it cooed, feelings of comfort pulsing through every stroke. "Sad?"

Devon reached up and hooked the impling down to snuggle against his chest. The thumping of his heart in his chest too strong for either of them to ignore. The impling wanted his warmth, not his anxiety and fears. It was no fair to the deal they had made. The impling buried itself in his shirts, smooth skin pressing against rough skin. Salt burned his cheeks, and Devon bit his lip.

How was he going to fix this?

"I'm sorry."

Pain burst from his chest. The engine beneath him roared to life. The blankets entangled him tight and held him down. The lack of an impling against him revealing the intentions. He closed his eyes as the van moved, clutching to the blankets holding him and letting that little bit of trust he had for the demon that looked after him tremble. They moved how they wished. His impling liked him. All the demons liked their prey. The problem was the damage they dealt was the same regardless.

The van warmed as they moved. One blanket rolled off him as the heat engulfed him. Shifting to the side to create a warm, soft, frankly more comforting than it had right to be, barrier between Devon and the thin metal of the van. A soft song came from the radio. It wasn't English, but the tone of it was nice. It helped fight some of the ball in his stomach. He drifted as the van drove.

Sleep had almost claimed him when it eventually stopped. The door clicked open, and the blankets released their hold on him. Devon blinked. He'd thought for a moment that the impling had been trying to rock him to sleep like a baby being driven around in a car. Devon pulled his coat and shoes on before slipping out of the van and seeing where the demon wanted him to go.

It was the hotel.

Devon swallowed. Fear hit hard, and he scrambled back into the car. The impling was back, sitting on the bed with low wings and his tail flicking behind him. "Why here?" Devon tried to yell but demanded.

The impling shifted, turning into a miniature version of the concierge, claws as hands and horns and all. "I can make edits," the voice hissed, forked tongue flicking as the s was carried on a moment longer than normal speech. "Take away the bad bits of you and made you perfect."

"He can fix this?" Devon said, eyebrows furrowing. The hotel was a source of fear among them all. The plastics way of feeding off their humans was terrifying. Not that most of the demon houses didn't scare them, but for Devon, it was worse. The hotel had been his assigned place to stay. If he hadn't found an alternative protector, he would have been forced to return to the feast. Devon was lucky that he'd found a young enough demon that needed someone to sleep within his influence to gain substance.