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Griffon knew V was doomed the second Dante’s gaze dropped to his bitten lips.
Confined to V’s tattoos, Griffon could only watch as a wicked gleam sparked in Dante’s eyes. He roved over V’s lanky form, and though he nodded in all the right places and asked all the right questions as V explained Urizen, he was drinking V’s twiggy neck, his unfortunately exposed chest and midriff, and the sadly slender hands resting atop his cane.
Dante rose to his feet as soon as V finished speaking. Griffon urged a strategic retreat. The gig was already accepted. The money was already coughed up. There was no point in sticking around, so they should head back to the motel and get some shut eye. Hell, they should grab a bite to eat too. There was nothing like a full belly to lull you to sleep.
V ignored his counsel.
“Alright, enough about the big bad demon you want me to beat.” Dante swaggered over. “Tell me about you.”
“What do you want to know?”
“Simple things, like your favorite food, favorite color.” Dante tugged on the collar of his shirt as if hot, and V glanced at his chest. Griffon begged V to look away, but V was only two days old. He had yet to develop a resistance toward succubi. “And how far down your tattoos go.”
The fine hairs dusting the valley of Dante’s skin alongside the tease of tantalizing cleavage worked its foul magic. V smiled. “You’re more than welcome to find out.”
Dante took V’s hand and led him up the creaky stairs. V stroked Dante’s firm knuckles with his skinny thumb. He ogled the pert ass hugged by leather and bit his lip once more. Griffon couldn’t take it anymore. He demanded V detour to the bathroom and burst free once V shut the door.
“There are bad ideas, stupid ideas, and then ideas that are downright moronic,” Griffon hissed. “He doesn’t even flush the toilet, V. He’s bad news. We gotta go.”
“Great things are at stake. I’m not going to let this opportunity slip by.”
Delusional. Absolutely delusional.
Dante tapped his foot outside, and he was probably checking the imaginary watch on his bare wrist. V pushed the toilet’s lever, and Griffon fled behind the shower curtain lest he caught sight of the swirling filth. V washed his hands and briskly returned to Dante’s side.
“Glad you didn’t fall in,” Dante said as if V wasn’t in the bathroom for only a few moments. Footsteps resumed. Dante’s voice grew distant. “It would’ve been a pain in the ass to rescue you.”
Griffon couldn’t hear V’s reply, but it must have been good considering the subsequent loud, wet smack of a kiss. A louder moan followed suit. Griffon squeezed his eyes shut until sunrise, when the ignorant birds outside sang their blissful good mornings.
Dante’s winding snores floated down the hallway, and Griffon zipped out the bathroom. He followed the trail of clothes, reached the bedroom, and recoiled at both the vile smell and the dreaded sight.
Semen crusted the insides of Dante’s plush thighs like dried milk. His skin shone with a glow pregnant women could only envy. He rested his cheek against V’s bony chest, and with an arm wrapped around V’s waist, he held V close.
Meanwhile, V lied on his back. His hands were folded over his navel like a corpse, and his pallor was ghastly. His cheeks were sunken, his lips were cracked, and circles as dark as soot hung below his closed eyes. His breathing was so shallow he might as well not have been breathing at all.
Griffon checked their bond to make sure V was alive. He was.
Griffon darted over and pecked V’s forehead. “V, wake up. We gotta get out of here.”
V didn’t twitch. Griffon pecked harder. “C’mon, get up. You can sleep later, but right now-“
“–he recharges for round two,” Dante yawned. His arm snapped forward like a viper. He snatched Griffon’s throat and then flung him to the side. Griffon squawked and frantically flapped his wings, narrowly avoiding becoming a feathery smear on the wall. “What’s a little chicken like you doing here? You should be crossing the road. There are plenty of worms on the other side.”
“Aren’t you hilarious,” Griffon sneered. He puffed his feathers, and Dante raised a brow. “Let’s take this outside.”
Dante snuggled into V’s side. “Ask someone else for help, I’m busy.”
Griffon flared his wings, prepared to smite Dante, but then V spoke. His voice was as brittle as dried twigs.
“Griffon, stand down.”
“But V, he-”
“Stand down,” V repeated. He cracked his eyes open, and cold despair washed over Griffon at the child-like satisfaction glimmering within. “We’ll speak later. Right now, I must rest.”
“For round two,” Dante chimed. He nuzzled V’s chest, and V shakily placed his hand atop Dante’s head. He carded his fingers through Dante’s clumpy hair, streaked with semen, and failed to work through the knots.
“For round two,” V croaked.
He fell limp. Dante began to snore once more, and Griffon had a feeling V wouldn’t make it to Urizen.