"Mr. De'stat! So good to see you!"
"Thank you sir! It's great to see you too!" Ricky shot his signature dazzling smile and shook the other man's hand.
They were both wearing sleek black suits, standing in a corner office of a rather large building in the heart of the city. The mahogany desk gleamed as the sunlight beamed in from the windowed backdrop, with Ricky's gold plated name tag at the front. A computer, printer, pencil sharpener, file folder, and pencil cup were stationed there as well.
"I hope it's to your liking." The man smiled proudly.
"Oh most definitely Mr. Boyd!" Ricky walked over and inspected the wood grain on his new desk.
"Ma-HOgany." He said the word in an odd manner, referencing an inside joke between him and the director.
"Ma-HOgany." Mr. Boyd replied in the same odd accent, then giggled. "Well, I hope you enjoy your promotion Mr. VP. Maybe join in a few more business dinners now, eh?"
"Sir, I'd attend a dinner at a restaurant in Chernobyl if it means keeping this fine looking beauty over here." He slid his hand over the desk. "Or this pretty lady." He sat in his new office chair and spun around.
Mr. Boyd laughed again, his bulging belly jiggling. "Weirdo."
"Boomer."
The man shook his balding head. "Well, I'll let you go now. Just wanted to show you your new office before you had to move your stuff in tomorrow."
"And I appreciate that." Ricky stood up and straightened his blazer. "The 30th floor is a lot more confusing to navigate than the 2nd floor cubicles are. Reminds me of a maze. You wouldn't happen to have some sort of bull monster running around eating people up here do you?"
"Not anymore. You're his replacement."
"Then I shall take this mantle with pride." He held his hand over his heart and put on a serious face, then walked the director out of the office.
"Oh, by the way," Mr. Boyd paused as they entered the elevator. "You're going to pick up some new clothes right? Gotta look good for the new job." He eyed Ricky's suit, which, while sleek, wasn't name brand like Director Boyd's was.
"With that gift card the company gave me, I might as well."
The two departed from the office and Ricky found himself alone. He made sure to shoot a smile at every passerby he met, strolling lazily down the sidewalk. It was a beautiful day out, so he figured he might as well enjoy it on his way back to the hotel, but when he arrived he found that he didn't quite want to go in yet.
"Would you like me to get you a taxi sir?" The concierge boy asked as he stood outside the hotel.
"Sure."
The gift card he'd gotten was for Neiman Marcus, and it had a rather large sum on it. Sure, he'd have preferred to get a bonus instead, but his new connections in the company had insisted he start wearing more name brand clothes. This was just their way of forcing it on him.
He arrived at the store, which was larger than most, and a rather attentive worker immediately started showing him their best clothing lines. Ricky struggled to maintain his smile, and as the day wore on, he was getting more and more exhausted.
Despite his current status, the past seven years had not been kind. When he first moved, he had to spend all his savings to afford his new apartment. Then, he drowned himself in work and spent his spare money on alcohol and gambling. He once had a rather unfortunate night in Las Vegas where he took a whole week to get over his hangover and found himself indebted for some damage he had apparently caused, but didn't quite remember. To this day he was still paying it off. He quit drinking after that.
At the new branch, after his initial depression wore off, he went out of his way to talk to everyone and anyone in his company, which was unusual since his job was to work payroll and payroll had no reason to ever talk with anyone directly. Fortunately he was able to talk with the right people one day and thus propelled himself out of that low paid position and into his new Vice President of Payroll promotion, where he got to oversee the entire department.
Dating was off the table for Ricky. After what happened, he refused to open his heart to anyone ever again. Even if Chris were to suddenly pop up out of no where and-
"Ricky? Is that you?" A familiar voice called.
His heart dropped as he turned to see the one person he didn't think he'd ever see again.
Standing in front of him with a medium blond ponytail and bright blue eyes, wearing a 3 piece designer suit and sporting a fair complexion, was Chris. And he looked just as shocked as Ricky was.
"Chris?" He croaked, forgetting his usual demeanor.
"Yeah...." Chris smiled awkwardly back. "You....You look good."
Ricky tilted his head, slack jawed as he struggled to comprehend what was said. Was Chris really here? Right in front of him? Complimenting him?! After what he did?!!!
What the fuck?!
"Who's this?" Came a very deep voice from behind...No, it was more above him. Jumping away with a startled yelp, Ricky looked up at the very man who took his husband away all those years ago, only this time he got a good look at him.
The man was indeed in the seven foot range, and still as muscular as ever. His short dark hair was neatly combed to the side, and he had dark brown eyes with a tanned complexion. His jaw was chiseled, with just the right amount of facial hair. For a split second, he could understand how easily Chris had fallen for the man. But only for a second.
"Uhhh....Errr.." The noises coming out of Ricky resembled that of a dying dog. After taking a moment to collect himself, a storm began to rage within him. If it weren't for the terrifyingly huge brute standing right there, Ricky would have loved to tell his ex off after everything he'd been through, but that wasn't an option if he'd get his head smashed in for it. Especially not after his new promotion. It wasn't worth it. So he glanced between the two, clamped his mouth shut and quickly strutted out of the store, ignoring them both.
Ricky barely registered hailing a taxi and getting on the elevator. He barely remembered unlocking his hotel room and taking a shower. And he damn well didn't remember getting into bed and staring at the ceiling, wide eyed, like a creepy comatose patient. Actually that last part he remembered.
At work, he still had that numb sensation inside of him as he greeted his colleagues with fake enthusiasm. Over the years he had developed a fake smile to win over any potentially important connections he'd need to move up.
He barely listened in on his meetings, could hardly focus on his paperwork, and didn't eat a bite of food. Mr. Boyd noticed and asked if anything was wrong, but Ricky just smiled his usual smile and lied about having eaten something bad that morning. The day went on and he soon found himself back at his hotel room, with room service delivering a generous amount of ice cream.
Ricky sprawled out on the sofa and turned on the wide screen TV that was provided. He only had the room for a few more days before he had to go back to his much smaller apartment. He had gotten his promotion in the middle of a very important negotiation with another company, so they insisted on having him stay at a nearby hotel in case they needed him urgently. He had no reason to say no since the company was paying, but he sure was getting used to the luxury. Maybe he should order some caviar too? He'd never tried it since the thought of eating fish eggs utterly disgusted him, but if someone else was paying he might as well see what the hubub was about.
Finally able to get his mind off what happened at the shop, he heard a knock on the door. Naturally he assumed it was room service and greeted the newcomer with a smile, which incinerated the moment he saw who was standing there.
"Hi." Came the deep voice of Chris's current husband. Chris himself was standing beside him, squeezing the man's hand.
"Uhhhh....Hi?" Ricky then looked down and realized his shirt was half undone, his blazer having been tossed onto the back of the couch without a care and his black hair was disheveled. He blushed, embarrassed by his own appearance.
"Ricky..." Chris glanced up at his husband, then back at Ricky. "Can we come in?"
It was a stupid question. No, of course they couldn't come in. Not after all the pain they had caused!!!
"May I ask why?" He switched to his fake smile, folding his arms and eyeing the smaller man with a hint of scorn.
Chris noticed and squirmed under the gaze while his husband shifted beside him. "It's about our marriage."
"What marriage?" Ricky spat, keeping his smile in place.
His ex started wringing his hands and looked very much like he wanted to hide behind the taller man. "It's...Complicated."
Ricky squinted, not trusting this shifty man anymore. There once was a time he would have swooned and welcomed him in with open arms, but not now. Not after everything. Unfortunately they both looked like they had something to get off their chests. Maybe they'd come to apologize?
Despite his inner turmoil, the demon waved them in. "As long as it'll be brief, come on in." He spotted his blazer and quickly snatched it. Scurrying around the hotel, he started tidying himself up, taking note of how uncomfortable Chris appeared to be.
"Have a seat. What um...What brings you here?" He folded his hands behind his back and smiled tightly, finding it difficult to keep up his usual facade.
"I recently learned that you and my husband are married." The larger demon spoke bluntly.
"Were." Ricky pointed out.
"Are." Chris corrected with a barely audible whisper, which earned him a look from his larger husband, who, now that Ricky noticed, didn't seem very pleased with Chris at the moment.
Ricky blinked in confusion, then tilted his head. "Were. Remember? You signed the divorce papers and mailed them to me."
"What divorce papers?"
"The ones you signed?" Ricky made a writing motion with his hands to emphasize.
Chris's gaze shifted between the two men, confused. "I never mailed you any divorce papers. You mailed them to me. Unsigned!"
"No, you did! Your parents mailed them to me after you shut off your phone and refused to answer my calls." Ricky snipped, growing tired of his humble routine.
Chris's head shook. "Ricky, I never signed anything. You were the one who refused to see me when you found out about Damon."
"Who?"
Chris just looked up at the larger demon who Ricky now understood was Damon. "Oh. I guess I never did catch his name." Then he realized what the man just said. "Wait...You...Really didn't file for the divorce?"
His ex just shook his head.
"Prove it." Ricky declared. "Call your parents right now. Ask them about the letters."
"What letters?"
"I just said to call and ask your parents!"
Chris leaned away from the venom in Ricky's voice, but eventually pulled out his phone and auto dialed someone, then put it on speaker and placed it on the table for the three to hear. After just one ring his mother picked up.
"Hello Dear! It's been too long since we last spoke, I hope you're doing well?"
"Mom," Chris started, "Do you remember Ricky?"
"Oh, your old ex? Why would you bring him up?"
"I need you to be honest with me mom. How did Ricky find out about Damon?"
The woman audibly clicked her tongue. "Oh please sweetheart, why are you worrying over this now? It's ancient history."
"I need to know." Was all Chris said.
"Well...If you must know, he saw you two together at the airport. You know how that man was, super...Clingy. Unstable. He saw you two and called me and your father up immediately to ask what was going on. We didn't want to ruin your relationship but...Well you know....We tried to be indirect but he figured it out."
"Hello Mrs. Mendova." Ricky chirped up sarcastically.
She paused, then the line went dead.
"I think she hung up on us." Ricky tilted his head at the phone. He was absolutely outraged, but in the past seven years he'd learned to channel his rage into sarcasm and quick wit.
Chris sat down, hands over his mouth as a look of pure horror crossed his face. "Damon...."
The larger demon who had been observing the scene then turned to the smaller man. "Yes?"
"Can you call them back on your phone?"
Damon nodded and pulled out his own phone. Within a minute he had the woman back on the line. This time she spoke in a more uncertain tone.
"Oh, Damon...Hello! I hope you're doing well?"
"Hang up again. I dare you." Was all the man said as he put the phone down and once again, put her on speaker. "Now tell us the truth."
She took an uneven breath before falling silent. Chris eventually couldn't handle the quiet. "Mom, tell me you didn't set this up. Tell me you didn't lie to us both just so I would break up with Ricky. Tell me you and dad didn't tear us apart!" His voice rose with every word.
Mrs. Mendova's voice remained quiet. "Sweetheart....He was no good for you."
Chris suddenly jumped up and ended the call before falling back crying into his hands. "I knew it! I knew you wouldn't walk away without talking to me first! Why did I listen to them?" He sobbed into his hands. Damon sat stiffly beside him.
Ricky was in shock at what he just heard. Chris didn't sign the divorce papers? Then that means....."We're still married..."
Damon for the first time looked Ricky dead in the eye. "That's right. Which means, by demon law, you're my husband too now."
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