My Little Demon


Mid-chorus of Starset's My Demons is when Axel calls, cutting the song short in my car. I already regret connecting my phone to the Bluetooth in my relatively new car.

"I'm on the way!" I growl into my phone, hastily retrieved.

"Well excuse me for doubting you. You wouldn't miss a party if your life depended on it." Axel's voice drips in sarcasm from the handheld device. The background noise is almost overwhelming; the party must have already begun. "Look, you know where to go?"

I roll my eyes, but I have nothing to retort. "Yeah, I'm about ten minutes out."

"Roxas says if you miss his remix of E.T., he'll never forgive you," Axel impresses. I believe him too. Roxas has a hierarchy of obsession: Axel, Katy Perry, and all other music. I might fall somewhere on that list, but I don't dare ask.

"Got it. See you soon." I hang up. The dread of attending a party nags at the back of my mind, but know that if I don't show up for the end-of-semester bash, Axel and Roxas will likely disown me. Considering we are all on the apartment lease for another year, that would be awkward, at best.

The music plays again, but being mid-chorus kills it. I put it back at the start.


I fail to even leave the parking lot before someone notices my presence. "Riiiiiiiku," Demyx drawls, already drunk, "Youuu're heeeere." The sandy-blond hangs on me uncomfortably. He's heavier than he looks.

"Yep," I say unsociably, "Where's Axel?"

"DJ-ing with Roxas," Demyx says in-between random giggles, "Wanna dance?" I sigh. I came to hear Axel and Roxas, but I seriously doubt Demyx will let me play wallflower.

"Lead the way," I say, defeated. Already my O-Chem assignment calls for me at home. Unlike the DJ's I came for, I still have finals and assignments due. Parties are so not my thing. My only solace is free live music and drinks.


I sigh in relief when Demyx's boyfriend, Zexion, finally retrieves him from me. "See you tomorrow," Zexion says, referring to a final we share. I grimace; it's already getting late, but I'm not allowed to leave yet. Axel has been blowing up my phone with texts saying as much.

"Aww, does that mean no fun tonight?" Demyx slurs, now hanging on the dark-haired male. Zexion looks annoyed, but I have to smirk at the innuendo Demyx so casually provided. But then I scowl, realizing that out of all my friends here I am the only one single. What is wrong with me, if even Zexion can find someone and I can't? Maybe that's the true intent of Axel practically forcing me here. It wouldn't be the first time.

Zexion and Demyx wave to me as they exit, quickly getting lost in the crowd. Now with no one to bother me, I can enjoy Axel and Roxas's set while I brood. Operation wallflower is a-go.

I lean against the wall, frowning into some dangerous but delicious mix of Monster Energy Drink and vodka in a cup. I've finished one already, thanks to Demyx's insistence. A remix of Demons by Imagine Dragons shakes the room and its occupants. I snort to myself; the music of the day seems to have a theme. I'd never tell them, but I like their versions better than the original songs. Axel has always been musically gifted, but that raw skill blossomed when him and Roxas got together. They are the kind of couple that have nothing in common, except for their single, most important passion. Music is what keeps them together.

For better or worse, I have and always will be a man of science. That's what drove me to major in chemistry. Yet, despite my vast knowledge on the laws of the universe, what my best friends have is magical in a way that a science geek like me couldn't bear to explain. Seeing them makes brain chemistry look like a joke. Though I always wave off Axel's romantic questions, I couldn't deny to myself that I want what he has, even if it goes against every fiber of my being.

God, I think, first Zexion and now them. Maybe this is why I hardly ever go to these parties. I always end up drunk and jealous.

I listlessly continue to stand against a wall, sipping distractedly. Most the party is now dancing in front of Axel and Roxas's speakers, swaying and gyrating to the fast, heavy beat. My eyes sweep the crowd, people-watching as one would a documentary. For several minutes I watch in boredom, resigning myself as I always do in these situations.

But then I'm intrigued by one lithe form in the crowd, dancing with no one. His chocolate brown spikes of hair flits effortlessly in and out of the throbbing mob, hips effeminately swaying hypnotically. I don't know what comes over me. My aqua eyes are magnetized to the brunet dancing carelessly alone. My cup falls to the ground as I pace, entranced, to him. Curiously, he continues his dance, but no longer meanders about the crowd, as if waiting for me to join him. His dark blue skinny jeans hug his slender legs and highlight his round, cute-as-a-button ass. His simple t-shirt fails to cover his midriff every time his arms raise, revealing a tantalizing strip of clear, tan skin.

But that is nothing when my aqua eyes meet their partner's blue, endless orbs. I feel my throat go dry, as if the ocean in his eyes took all the moisture. Their shade, I notice, is identical to Roxas', but the ones before me are bright, roaring like the sea, and full of life. Roxas's are sharp, cold, and wry. Even all my scientific knowledge could not explain this difference, despite their identical color. But quickly these thoughts dissipate the longer I stare at his gorgeous face, supple lips curled in a sultry smile. Effortlessly, I fall into step to his rhythm. If I weren't already feeling the effects of my drinks, I may question how I suddenly obtained the ability to dance.

Under his spell, we dance for what feels an eternity. Our bodies stay held together by a force like protons and neutrons; not opposites, yet still somehow bound. Every time our eyes meet, he seems to get more confident and I have to attempt harder to keep my cool. My head swims with attraction and inebriation.

After a risqué move that sends warmth down my spine, he whispers in my ear, "Name?"

I've never been so compelled to tell it. Daring to spin him, I reply sultrily, "Riku. And you?"

He noticeably shivers, "Sora."

His name reverberates in my mind like a promise, a curse. I know that this name, this person is one I won't forget. I am disturbed by how many anomalies mock my love of science in one night.

We continue to dance, but Sora leads me out of the crowd slowly. His aggressive tugs and tilts ignite a fire in my chest, extending down. His touch is intoxicating, and I feel like he's got me tied on a string, pulling. From the DJ stand I can almost feel the redhead's burning gaze on me, especially when the song abruptly changes —mid-song — to a fast paced, heavy bass'd dubstep. Normally his attempts at match-making for me end in a week or two of the silent treatment, but maybe I'll make an exception this time. Delightfully, the change of beat only further fuels the brunet's engine and before I know it I'm backed up into a wall. The sudden thud of the hard surface against my back and shoulder blades, and the little useless bumps making tiny hills and valleys into my skin, make my breath hitch.

Before I can gather my bearings, he kisses me; open-mouthed but perfectly placed and all-encompassing. It isn't unexpected; there are only a few reasons to back someone up into a wall, and almost all involve some form of physical contact. Nevertheless, I feel an adrenaline rush surge through me when his lips hungrily collide with mine. A crazy thought about turning the tables around crosses my mind, but I let it slide. An insane thought about pushing him away enters my head too, but I vehemently shred that one to pieces as well.

When I finally kiss him back, a millisecond from awkward later, I feel as though I'm detached from my body entirely, and rather in some inferno that is torturous and glorious all at the same time. I see stars, drowning in whatever concoction the brunet and alcohol created in me. I don't understand it. It's a world all my own, and completely unreal to me.

His delicious scent – cinnamon, vanilla, and some foreign aroma – fills my nose and brings me down to earth. I recover some dignity when I lick his lip with my tongue. He obliges to the invasion by pushing himself against me, his body in full flush against mine. His warmth and small frame are ambrosia. After a small groan, he releases me and the trance is briefly lifted. I'm subtly disappointed, but by the look in his eyes, I know he isn't done with me yet. Honestly, I don't think I'd let him be done with me anyway, but it's reassuring nonetheless. Using what little confidence I have, I grab his wrist in a forceful but harmless way, and drag him to a room.

Later, I would find the red tint of the room ironic. I can't tell if there are others there, but we close the door behind us and lock it. As far as we are concerned, there is only space enough for us. I feel like we are somehow, illogically, larger than life. I'm proven wrong when I end up pushed against a wall — again – only moments after we enter the room, demonstrating just how little space we can occupy together.

A beast within me purrs that I've caught prey – Sora led me here, but away from the eyes of others he's entered my domain. I let him bring me into him, kissing him with all the passion that I could conjure. I let him grip my shirt at my shoulders, periodically releasing the cloth and trail his hands down my shirt by his fingertips. I let my hands wander, tracing his bony shoulder blades, his spine.

But then I push him away. He stumbles back in a clumsy, cute sort of way and falls back on the couch that I vaguely aimed for. His eyes wildly scan the room as I walk over in a purposeful strut, overflowing with pride and lust. It's a novel side of me, almost frightening, but I use it as naturally as I'm able.

When I reach his side, his eyes lock with mine and he reaches up, aggressively tugging me down onto him. I miraculously oblige without falling over, straddling his lithe frame. I lean over and kiss him. If I hadn't been so entranced, I might've noticed his eyes glinted strangely. When I put a suspenseful pause in the kissing, I notice the alteration then. I can't tell whether it's the tint of the room, or if I'm seeing things, or something else entirely. Contacts maybe? I ponder quickly and vaguely. I distantly realize something is off, that I'd never just accept some parlor magic trick of changing appearance. But either way, his eyes have turned blood red, speckled with glowering gold flakes. They still hold the infinite depth they had before, which unnerves me –colored contacts don't do that. But worse, his pupils are… strange, as well. They are stretched into slits, like a cat's eyes. In response, I blink dumbly a few times, indistinctly wondering what drug had slipped into my drink.

He doesn't seem amused by my fascinated staring. With strength unnatural for someone of his size, he pulls me down again into a deep kiss, tongue hungrily searching my mouth. Lust overcomes me again. My hands search the body bellow me, savoring every rib, every inch of soft tummy. My hands toy at the hem of his jeans, thinking to myself that they will be a task in and of themselves to remove. I slip my tongue in his mouth now, enjoying my turn to taste. He groans at the contact.

But then, my tongue hits something sharp. My breath hitches from the pain when it shallowly slices my tongue, the taste of blood mingling with Sora's mouth. I pull away, confused. One hand rises to check my mouth for blood dripping, but my other stays under the brunet's shirt. I look to Sora to apologize; blood is surely a mood killer. But his face wears a delirious smile, two teeth narrowing into sharp fangs at the side of his mouth. I stare in disbelief. Those weren't there before, either. Between his glowing, red-golden eyes and the fucking fangs, I should have screamed, ran, something logical. But instead the hand that wiped blood goes to Sora's face, cupping it softly. He's gorgeous.

Have I lost my goddamn mind? I'm eerily absent of fear, gazing still longingly at the creature below me. My touch on his cheek seems to get his attention, and his eyes widen in surprise, almost panicked. But quickly that dissipates, and the brunet falters, his glowing eyes dropping to the side. "You aren't afraid…" he echoes, his voice velvet. I shake my head. It makes the room spin, but I have spirit left.

As if sensing my vertigo, Sora literally disappears, and a force flips me onto my back on the couch. I mutter, "Impossible," only to hear the brunet's mischievous giggling right at my ear. Before I can even look about the room to search for Sora, he is on top of me, arms propping up his face from either side of my chest, his lower body resting tantalizingly in between my legs.

Smiling a sweet, seductive smile, Sora purrs, "I like you…" His nimble fingers trail down my chest, my heart beating faster in longing. The brunet licks his lips, his tongue long and forked.

"…Master."


A/N: And then they went to Riku's house to have crazy sex.

For the spooky month of October I will be writing/finishing this little tale of sexy demon Soriku! My goal is to be done before Halloween. I'm about 11k words in already. I was going to wait to post it all at once, but I think this will help me stay accountable. I have ~11 scenes planned, so it's likely this will have about 11 or less chapters.

Thanks for reading! If you liked, drop a review or favorite? It makes my life! Happy Halloween-season! :)

~ Hannahble