Page 100 of Demons Dig Donuts

Maybe it was a low blow to ask that when Indy already knew it was an obvious sore spot, but he needed to redirect this conversation away from himself quickly. It didn’t matter if Mr. Heiss answered it or not. Indy only needed him to stop focusing on Indy for five seconds so he had time to think up some more lies to keep his web of bullshit going.

To his surprise, Mr. Heiss replied, “It used to be. At least, it was a nickname. All fallen demons were once angels, and we have names given to us when we’re born in the light.”

“The light? Is that, like, heaven or something?”

“I believe many would think of it that way. It’s the one part of Celestial that hosts warmth and, yes, light. A light that comes from angels. They gather in groups, they sing, share their light together.”

“That sounds kinda beautiful.”

“It’s bullshit,” Mr. Heiss said firmly, a bitter edge sharpening his tone. “If you dare to defy them or question them, they will cast you out. To live in the light is to live by their rules, and no other way exists if you want to stay. If you’re stupid enough to leave on your own, they won’t allow you to ever return because you’ve been tainted.”

Indy laid a hand on Mr. Heiss’s chest.

Beneath Mr. Heiss’s obvious anger was pain born from experience not dissimilar from Indy’s own. Being turned away, rejected, abandoned by the very ones who were supposed to care the most.

Christ, did Indy know exactly what that was like, but he wasn’t going to insult Mr. Heiss by making this vulnerable moment about himself. Indy wasn’t going to offer empty apologies or say how awful angels were or that he understood Mr. Heiss’s pain or any other bullshit.

It would have felt fake.

And yes, fine, Indy had been lying his ass off to Mr. Heiss, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it now.

Not about this.

The best thing he knew to do was give Mr. Heiss the opportunity to talk about it, a chance to speak his piece, so he gave Mr. Heiss’s chest a gentle rub and asked, “So, what happened?”

Mr. Heiss dropped his hand over Indy’s. “I believe it’s my turn for a question, is it not? Not very fair for you to take over the conversation.”

“I’m a bottom, so taking is just natural—”

Mr. Heiss groaned.

“Wanna know my turn-offs? Trick question. I don’t have any.”

Mr. Heiss actually smiled at that, and Indy’s heart fluttered. Mr. Heiss plucked Indy’s glass away to place it beside his own. “I think that’s enough for one day. It’s time to sleep.”

“Oh?” Indy wiggled his hips. “Did I wear you out, baby?”

“Yes, dealing with your foolishness is exhausting.” Mr. Heiss slid beneath the covers but remained on his back with his arm stretched out in invitation. “Rest now.”

Indy happily kicked his way under the blankets and promptly glued himself to Mr. Heiss’s side, cuddling in close. There was a long moment of silence before he tried to ask, “So, is Raph—”

“Go to sleep, meat sack,” Mr. Heiss grumbled sourly.

“Aw, we’re back to that again? What happened to sweet angry-sounding German nicknames? I was just going to ask if Raphael was your favorite Renaissance painter.”

Mr. Heiss growled.

“Ninja Turtle?”

“Indy.”

“Sorry, of course. It’s clearly Donatello. ’Cause purple.”

“Go to sleep.” Mr. Heiss closed his eyes, and the lights dimmed.

The curtains shifted to bathe the room in darkness, and Indy resigned himself to a nap. He definitely deserved one after his hard work taking that cock and a record-breaking amount of orgasms, not to mention his second kidnapping and monster battle combo of the week. He really hoped there wasn’t going to be a third, but he had a feeling this recent bout of excitement was far from over.

If it meant getting dicked down like this again, it would be worth it.