Page 69 of Demons Dig Donuts

“What? I’m fine! I’m just dancing!” Indy grinned, swinging his hips back and forth. “See?”

“Dancing?” Mr. Heiss tilted his head, and a tiny smile played over his lips. “Is that what you call your intoxicated thrashing?”

“Oh, fuck you very much. I am a great dancer.” Indy stood up straighter and moved his body with more purpose and focus. “Guess you never caught one of my shows, huh? Because if you had, well, we’d be having a much different conversation”

Mr. Heiss flicked his gaze over Indy’s body. “Can’t say I had the pleasure.”

“Wow, that was almost a compliment. Are you drunk too?” Indy snickered.

“No.”

Indy continued to move, letting himself fall into familiar movements and all but grinding up on Mr. Heiss. He loved all forms of dance, but shaking his ass and letting loose in a club had been a big favorite. Pole work and lap dances were an area he was very proficient in, obviously, but he couldn’t bring himself to bust out all the seductive gyrating and dry humping just yet.

He wanted to dance.

He wanted the music to guide him, to lead him through a melody and let his body follow. He wanted to pump his arms into the air, swing his hips, throw his head back, and get carried away. He found a tune in his head, maybe he even hummed it, but he might as well have been dancing all by himself because Mr. Heiss hadn’t budged.

All of this time, Mr. Heiss hadn’t reacted at all.

Not a word, not a scowl, nothing.

Just watching.

Indy’s head swam as he slowed down, giving Mr. Heiss’s tie a playful tug. “Hey! Do demons not dance?”

“Some do.” Mr. Heiss dropped a hand to the small of Indy’s back, fanning out his fingers to pull their bodies together. “Can you waltz?”

“Pffft.” Indy grinned. “With my eyes closed.”

“Prove it.”

Classical music played, something familiar but Indy didn’t know its name. He also had no idea where it was coming from but chalked it up to demon asshole magic. He could handle this. He could totally waltz. He had been way more fucked up than this and still nailed an Iron X, Human Flag, and a Brass Monkey on the pole.

He was going to decimate this box step bullshit.

Indy laughed as Mr. Heiss took his hand and led him into a simple waltz. “Okay, holy shit. Look at that. Demons do dance.” He smirked. “Even the giant asshole ones.”

“Look at that. Annoying flesh bags dance too.” Mr. Heiss chuckled.

“And I’m good too, right?” Indy beamed. “I’m really good.”

“Passable.”

“Asshole.”

“Meat sack.”

“I love all your pet names for me. So sexy.”

As they danced, the bedroom shifted. The walls pushed back and took the furniture with them, creating a larger floor space so that Indy and Mr. Heiss didn’t risk bumping into anything. It was surreal and strangely magical—okay, yes, most monsters were magical in some sort of way, but this was the magical heart fluttering with a stomach full of butterflies variety.

Indy felt both ridiculous and elated. He was still wearing these stupid pajamas, he probably looked awful, but dancing with Mr. Heiss was actually pretty fun. It would be too easy to blame the booze, but he was having a great time. Mr. Heiss was a talented dancer, strong and surprisingly graceful for someone of his size, and it was too easy to get swept away.

Or, like, forget about the whole cutting his hand off thing.

Or how he called Indy names.

Ugh.