Re: Is this real life? Is this just fantasy?

[Wanda]

Alfred wanted to go after Arthur, but he figured he should let the demon make up... for his 'mistake' and sighed, "I hope Demy catches up with Arthur before he gets lost."

Frank nodded and turned to give Alfred a grin, "While we wait for Demy to bring back Arthur, I can tell you what he means by significant other. He means your wife, husband, girlfriend, boyfriend, lover... your other half."

Alfred blinked and then shook his head, "Oh... then no, I don't have one. I have kiss a few people and flirted, but about it."

The Wanderer did a double take when he remember something, "...Huh, this is weird. I just met into a doctor named Arthur as well in my timeline after I crashed from being dehydrated. I was spending a few days rest to get over that at his clinic."

....And dude, now he thought about it, the two Arthurs kinda of look the same. This was just getting strange by the second.

"So... what do you feel about him? The Arthur from your timeline?" Frank gave a smile as if he knows something Alfred doesn't.

The wanderer just gave the pug a weird look, "Friendship."

He watched in confusion as the dog started to laugh and smiled that knowing smile, the pug spoke up, "Just friendship? Are you sure it's nothing more.... physical? Something more.... fun."

"....What the hell dog!?" Alfred fought down his blush at the images his mind started to make at the dogs words, "Oh hell no, never."

"Boy, you should never say never. Sometimes never happens."

He just scowled at Frank and moved toward the entrance in annoyance, and he noticed Demy dragging Arthur back, "Hey! Demy got Arthur back."

"Good," Frank watched as Demy hugged Arthur, "...That not going to help Arthur's attraction to Demy."

You know that train wreck? It's still looked like it's coming.

(....go Frank!)

[Arthur the Hunter]

Arthur tried to twist out of Demy's grip around his shoulders, but he could only kick out his legs uselessly; the demon was too strong. It didn't take long for Demy to fly him back into the smaller, walled pathway, where he was gently set back on his feet.

He balled his fists at his sides, baring his teeth in a snarl as Demy hid his wings. He tensed, ready to attack if necessary.

"Hey," Demy began in a quiet voice, as if he were trying to soothe an animal. "Arthur, I'm sorry. I had no idea. I thought-" Demy reached a hand out toward his face and Arthur slapped it back instinctively. "Arthur, I thought I had brought you out of your own timeline. I thought I'd taken you away from your Alfred or something; I had no idea I'd brought you back to life."

Arthur remained silent, some of the tension draining slowly out of him. This was easier to believe, that Demy wouldn't kill him when the time was right. But really, who wouldn't want to get rid of a mistake?

That's the way nature goes, he thought numbly. Remove the weak, remove the failures. It's happening to me again.

"Hey, uh, don't cry. Or whatever. Listen, I'm sorry. You're not... you're not a mistake, okay?"

Crying? He wasn't crying- oh. He touched a hand to his cheek, feeling a slight wetness. Damn.

Without warning, he found himself wrapped in a tight embrace, Demy's breath hot on the side of his neck. He squirmed, instinctively panicking and trying to push him away, but the pressure of Demy's body against his trapped his arm between them. He could feel Demy running a hand soothingly across his back, and shuddered.

"Don't run away, okay? -- I don't wantcha getting hurt. You're totally right. You're my responsibility now, and I'm gonna take good care of you, okay? -- You don't have to go back, but you can't just run away like that. Not without basic training. New York City is not like anything you've ever seen before."

Demy was still whispering reassuringly, and Arthur relaxed into the touch. He had no choice but to trust this man, and still there was a part of him that couldn't bear to depend on anyone; but maybe now, he could let go and trust Demy not to kill him. He burrowed his head in Demy's shoulder in embarrassment, the strange black things on his nose pressing into his face. Hesitantly, he reached the hand still trapped between them to Demy's cheek, brushing his fingers along the smooth skin in what he hoped was an apologetic manner.

"So, uh, yeah, if you're gonna punch me, do it now?"

Arthur was released suddenly and he blinked in confusion, before grinning. "Oh, of course."

He lashed out, striking Demy across the face with a fist, hitting him across the other side when Demy's head whipped around from the force. He punched him again in the chest for good measure, sending Demy reeling.

"That was for saying I was a mistake," he informed him, smirking at the look of pained surprise on Demy's face. He raised a foot and kicked him hard in the solar plexus, sending Demy tumbling to the ground.

"What was that for?" he cried.

"That was for being a prick." He laughed at the pout he received in return, and stretched his arms up, sighing as the tension seeped from him. "That felt good," he said, reaching a hand down to help Demy back up.

Demy's hand felt warm in his, and Arthur suppressed a smile as they walked back to the strange building where Alfred and the dog were waiting for them.

"Sorry you had to see that," he grinned, entirely unapologetic. Then something occurred to him. "Alfred, you don't have a lover where you are from?" When Alfred shook his head in the negative, Arthur frowned. "When I was alive there was this young man I knew who looked exactly like you, even shared your name. He was my..." he trailed off. With a start he realised he was still holding Demy's hand, and he extracted his quickly, his face burning. "A-Anyway," he continued, stammering slightly. "I just wanted to ask you- if you don't have a lover, what do you have to go home to?"

[Wanda]

Alfred fought to keep his cheers down when he saw Arthur punched the demon in the face. Frank just laughed, "That was a very good punch," The dog laughed even louder when Demy got in the stomach, "Oh, that might leave a mark."

"Hah, dude.... that was awesome to see." Alfred grinned at Arthur when him and Demy come back, he shook his head at the question of Arthur.

"When I was alive there was this young man I knew who looked exactly like you, even shared your name. He was my..."

What!? That... He thought knowing of two Arthurs was strange, this? This was getting bizarre. And what does he mean by my... He thought as he noticed Arthur's reaction to still holding Demy's hands.

"Um..." Alfred thought about how to answer Arthur's second question.

"His soon-to be lover. It's seems that 'Alfred' has meet his own Arthur already, a doctor." Frank answered for Alfred.

The wanderer looked down at the dog and snarl out, "I just barely met him! What in the hell make you think that he and me will become lovers!?"

"I know these things, boy. You may denial it, but.... you have already found your other half," Frank smirked at Alfred, "Besides, aren't you staying at his home? There is plenty time for... something physical to happen."

Alfred was really getting tempt to kick the dog and did that dog just winked at him!? "...It's a clinic and I'm resting there to get over being dehydrated! And what makes you think he is my other half!?"

Frank pointed to Arthur and drawled out, "Oh... his Alfred and him."

"...Just because he and his Alfred are lovers doesn't mean me and my Arthur will be lovers, you crazy dog!" Well... that explains the 'my...' part of Arthur's speech.

"Oh! Look at this, you already use possessive pronouns!" Frank cackled in glee and smirked at Alfred.

Urge to kick the dog was rising, and Alfred growled out, "Just because I used My, it doesn't mean I'm possessive of him or that he will be my lover."

(And now, Arthur knows the dog can talk!

Also more poking on Alfred's feelings toward his Arthur. :D

*hopes it good* If I need to edit anything I will do it tomorrow. Gotta hit the hay. XD)

[Guest]

“Man,” Demy snapped his fingers, conjuring an ice pack to press tightly against his face. He barely registered that the Neanderthal was still holding onto his hand, dragging him back to where Frank and Alfred were laughing—at him. “Dude, I didn’t think you were actually going to hit me,” well, maybe that was a lie, “hard, at least. And why my face? Like couldn’t you hit my stomach twice or something? There’s no way any girl, or guy is gonna wanna spend some time with me tonight, and I need to eat! You listening to me, Arthur? I’m going to starve—”

But it seems everyone was ignoring him. He was going to keep complaining, but, suddenly, he began to taste the familiar spice of Arthur’s pheromones, working overtime, and he licked his lips. It was like he had been given a pacifier or something equally soothing—why were these pheromones so yummy? Oh, right. Their hands were touching. And Arthur was thinking of his Alfred, a tad bit explicitly. Interesting. He took in as many pheromones as he could, still reeling and savoring them when the Neanderthal dropped his hand. “Hey…” he whined a bit, pouting, but recovered, eventually conjuring another ice pack to press against the other side of his face. The pheromones were still being released, and he just took them in.

Well, so long as Arthur was around, he wouldn’t starve. Sure, he’d still be hungry, but not starving.

Demy began to listen in on Frank and Al’s conversation. Oh, so he knew an Arthur, too?

"...Just because he and his Alfred are lovers doesn't mean me and my Arthur will be lovers, you crazy dog!"

“Yeah, exactly!” he piped in, “I mean, I don’t have an Arthur, and my name is Alfred, too, ya know?—I mean, Demy’s like an awesome nickname—like my superhero identity or whatever. But I’m just saying, Frank, your logic’s got major issues: where’s my Arthur? Closest thing I’ve seen to this guy,” he pointed at Arthur, making sure to throw in a smile so that the Neanderthal wouldn’t feel offended—last thing he needed was Arthur running out on them again. And punching his face. “Well, closest thing I’ve seen to Arthur didn’t look exactly like him: he…”

He was not going to blush, but maybe he was going to gush; just a little bit. He let out a lovelorn sigh -- wait, not lovelorn. Demons did not love! He just... wanted to maybe reach under the angel's toga a little too much.

“…he’s one of those pretty, flighty things with white, long feathery wings and… and these emerald green eyes that just stare down at you—and he’s such a kickass fighter, being a Warrior Angel, and…” and while you were blinded, he kicked you off a cloud, much like Arthur just now kicked you in the stomach. Demy frowned, furrowing his brows together, “yeah, my point’s that not every Alfred has an Arthur. Just look at me and that damned Britannia Angel. Stupid pretty, flighty, shiny thing…”

He sighed, feeling the pheromones stop. Crap. Had he said something inappropriate? He turned to Arthur—he did sort of look like Britannia. Maybe not as beautiful, but he could get there, maybe. After all, he was a Neanderthal, and for an ancient being, Arthur could be at least thought of as adorable, if not, sexy?—That was just Demy’s stomach talking now. He chuckled. “Alright, let’s head over to my apartment. We can sulk over the sad state of our love lives there… and maybe once I know you guys are safe, I can go out and maybe find a meal.”

((Hey, if Arthur can swoon over memories of his Al, why can’t Demy have a moment thinking over Britannia? XD To the apartment we go! – Still love your Frank, Wanda. Hun -- your turn! <3 Will we see jealous Artie over Brit Brit?))

[Arthur the Hunter]

The dog was talking.

The dog was talking.

Arthur fought back the urge to run the dog through with his spear- where was the damn thing now?- and tried to calm himself down. Alfred and Demy didn't look particularly bothered, so perhaps it was normal for animals to speak in this time? He'd seen stranger things today.

Alfred was vehemently protesting any possibility of love between him and some other person, which made Arthur frown. As he'd learnt the hard way, life was too short to make room for protests- though he had to admit he didn't follow this philosophy himself.

“He’s one of those pretty, flighty things," Demy said with a hint of fondness in his voice. "With white, long feathery wings and… and these emerald green eyes that just stare down at you—and he’s such a kickass fighter, being a Warrior Angel, and…” He paused.

So Demy had someone? Well. Not like he should've expected anything else. Arthur sighed, wondering why he was even concerning himself. The angel sounded beautiful, he thought ruefully.

“Yeah, my point’s that not every Alfred has an Arthur. Just look at me and that damned Britannia Angel. Stupid pretty, flighty, shiny thing…”

Perhaps they weren't lovers, but it was obvious that Demy had feelings for the angel. Of course. Someone beautiful like that... Arthur would never be considered attractive, especially not now. He couldn't help but feel a little envious, and frowned at his own thoughts.

Demy was staring at him. Arthur blushed, averting his eyes, feeling hunted.

“Alright, let’s head over to my apartment. We can sulk over the sad state of our love lives there… and maybe once I know you guys are safe, I can go out and maybe find a meal.”

An apartment- probably some sort of dwelling place. Arthur nodded and followed Demy and Alfred out, Frank following at their heels. The surroundings were still strange, though not as intimidating as before. Arthur found himself slowly growing used to the smoothness of the path- terribly convenient, actually; he wondered how the people had managed to find such a useful feature in the earth.

The house seemed to somehow be carved from a large white boulder, with more of the little clear gemstones dotting it decoratively. Strange black things formed convenient steps along the outside, and Arthur wondered if it was petrified wood and whether something had been growing on the boulder before it had been shaped. A large slab of wood blocked their way, and Demy took out a small object and inserted it into a hole in the side, pushing until the obstacle moved to make way.

[Guest]

He had thought of showing them the elevator, but he didn’t really want to deal with Arthur freaking out, so he figured they might as well use the stairs—it was only three flights anyway. Frank didn’t even seem to have a problem, until they reached the second level. Then Alfred had to carry him the rest of the way. His apartment building was nice. It’d been a while since he’d been there, considering that he didn’t spend all his time in New York City and enjoyed other cities equally, but he still thought it was nice to be home. The building looked more like a hotel than anything with nice red carpeting rolled down the hallways and small Victorian lamps attached to the walls lighting the way dimly. He stopped by a bright red door, far different from all the rest, the number 33 flashing in gold. “Alright, guys, welcome to my home. You know how it goes: mi casa es su casa. Especially for you, Arthur. This is, I guess, sort of more permanent for you,” he shrugged noncommittally, slamming the door open to show them the inside of the apartment.

It wasn’t luxurious, but it was nice. The living room was spacious, with black and white enlarged photographs framed and mounted on the walls to act like art. A monochromatic set of eclectic furniture marked the strange feel of the living room, though it was comfy enough, especially with the large screen television staring at his visitors. His dining room was equally lush—a marble table with glass furnishings and four chairs that were barely, if ever, used. A large corner near the main hallway was taken up by a kitchen, which was surrounded and kept at full view by a bar with several stools. “There’s some food in the fridge if you guys are hungry,” Demy smiled, nodding at them to follow him towards the back. Along the way, he conjured a dog bed. “That’s for you, Frank. Not gonna give you a whole bed to yourself,” he chuckled. The dog didn’t seem amused.

He nodded at a closed door. “My bedroom. Usually it is open. If it is ever closed, it might mean I brought someone over. Don’t just barge in, got it?—Awesome. There are two rooms here. Uh, there’s not much in them. Just a bed, a bedside table, a small tv, plenty of closet space, but I can take you guys shopping tomorrow and we can pick a few things for ya’ll to feel more comfortable.”

Turning to his left, he opened another door, “This is the bathroom. Keep it clean. It has all your basic amenities. Please don’t use up all the condoms. Oh, and my toothbrush is the green one.”

After the tour, he took them back to the living room, handing Alfred the remote, just in case he wanted to watch television. But Demy really only had eyes for Arthur for a moment—the Neanderthal looked like he was about to snap and turn into a whirlwind of destruction aimed at his apartment. He cleared his throat, running out of the room for a bit to search inside his closet for—yup! Plushie gold! He walked back out, a little skip in his step and a bright smile on his face. And then, he pushed the unicorn plushie into Arthur’s hand, showing him that from a little pocket, out came candy.

“You can eat it,” he informed Arthur with a smile, “it’s sweet. His name's Horny the Unicorn, and if you hug it, it might make you feel better, alright? Al, I’ll leave you in charge. I’m just gonna freshen up and go. I’ll bring some groceries on my way home.” With one last smirk, Demy snapped his fingers to change his clothes, into something trendier, more club-worthy, and then petted Frank, “don’t wait up, folks. If I’m lucky, and my face doesn’t look like crap, maybe I’ll get food tonight. Later~!”

He only hoped they’d be okay.

[Wanda]

Alfred looked hopefully at what the Demy said, hah! The dog was wrong, and the Wanderer broke into a grin.

Frank started to laugh and grinned knowingly at the demon, "Just because you know him as Britannia Angel, doesn't mean he isn't Arthur as well."

Alfred scowled and just going to continue to believe that he and his Arthur will never be lovers- stopped this mind. Stop with the damn images!

Frank just smiled, because he knows the truth, even if they don't believe him.

Putting Frank down, he looked around the apartment, damn this place looks nice. Alfred listened to what Demy and nodded his head. He took the remote and wondered if he should turned the TV on, but before he could he saw Demy hand over a unicorn plushe to Arthur.

...That was kinda of cute.

"Alright, have fun getting a snack," Alfred waved good-bye to Demy, after Demy left he looked down at Frank, "We better explain what everything is to Arthur, right?"

Frank nodded his head, "Yes. And we best leave the TV for last."

The wanderer put down the remote and nodded, "That would be a good idea." He turned to Arthur, "Come over here! We will start explain what this stuff is to you."

He patted the couch, "This is a couch, it's where you can sit, sleep or just lay on. It's comfortable." He moved over to a chair, "And this is a chair, it's also a place where you can sit on, although I will warn you on trying sleep on it."

Frank walked over to the paintings and pointed up to them, "These are paintings, they are art. Kinda of like your drawings on rock walls."

"Speaking of walls? Don't draw on the apartment walls, they aren't used for that anymore." Alfred added on, "Come on, we leave the TV for last." He leaded Arthur into the dining room, "Again more chairs to sit in, and this?" He tapped on the table, "is a table that you can eat stuff on."

Alfred walked toward the kitchen, "Those?" He pointed to the stools, "are chairs as well." He tapped the bar, "This also another place to eat."

Frank walked over to the oven, "This is a oven, you can cook things here," The dog pointed to the stove, "That a stove, also a place where you can cook things."

"This is a microwave, you can cook and/or warm things up here," Alfred pointed to the microwave, the wanderer walked over to the fridge, "And this is where we keep food that needs to be cold in." He moved over to the pantry, "And this is were you can store other type of food. Some of our food is in cans and bags to keep them safe."

Frank was now near the sink, "This is a sink, you can wash your hands and food here. Oh! Dishes and silverware as well."

Alfred opened a cabinet and took out a plate, "This is a dish, and it's a plate, this is what we humans eat on now." He now took out a fork, "This is a silverware, a fork."

"Most foods aren't ate with your fingers anymore and they use silverware to eat it," Frank added on and then pointed toward the coffee maker, "That a coffee maker, it's make coffee.. which is a drink."

(HAHAHA... I might have miss something in the kitchen. XD)

[Guest]

Demy walked out onto the streets of New York City, enjoying the flash-flash of the many nighttime advertisements now shining all over the city. There was something about New York that Demy just loved—it was invigorating, exciting, rich, and sultry, and he was going to take advantage of that tonight. He wasn’t going to be picky tonight. All he needed was a quick meal and then he could return to his apartment. He didn’t really trust Al, Frank, and Arthur by themselves. Not with his favorite apartment anyway. So he cut in line for an underground club—an expensive little locale called “Americana Street.” A few people complained, but the security guard knew Demy well. There was a reason why the club had America in its name, and it was because Demon America knew the owner—and he knew her well.

So in he walked, enjoying the ambiance for a bit: strobe lights, thick musk of alcohol and sweat, and just a dash of cold stares on the side. Without waiting, he made a beeline for the bar, where he ordered a soft, fruity drink, trying to not make eye contact with the bartender so as to play coy. He wasn’t really interested in the barman, but it was nice to feel his stare—and the pheromones that came with it. Still, he couldn't help but note the difference between this guy's energy vibrations and chemicals, and Arthur's... Why was he thinking about that anyway? He could deal with a nice snack before the main course. Maybe it wouldn't be Neanderthal-Snacking worthy, but it was still better than nothing.

“Want a refill?” the guy asked, probably some 20-something wanna-be actor with a bad track record that had forced him to take a few nighttime gigs, including… oh, yes, Demy could definitely taste strip club in his energy. Not bad for a first snack. Still, missing some of Arthur's spice. Oh, damn it. He couldn't keep thinking about the poor Neanderthal like that!

He returned the smile, shrugging. “No, not really. But thanks for the offer.”

He jumped off the stool, trying to lose himself in the shuffle of the dance floor, and then, he bumped into his nighttime meal. She immediately groped him—lost absolutely no time in petting him just right and leading him onto the dance floor and sending such strong vibrations his way that Demy began to wonder if he was receiving energy, or if it was being sucked away from him. But he danced with her, maybe grinded a little, and just as he was preparing to make a quick, breathless suggestion in her ear, he was pulled away from her rather harshly.

“Robert!” she jumped into the guy’s arms, draping herself all over him.

Demy only watched, surprised. “Uh, what…?”

“This guy wouldn’t let me go all night! Even though I told him that I was,” she paused, licking her boyfriend’s neck, and almost immediately, Demy cringed. Damn it. He’d been energy sapped by a stupid Succubi, “TAKEN!”

“No, dude, there’s a misunderstanding here,” Demy chuckled. Usually, he would have risked it—he would have taken him on, but this time? Not with so little energy. In fact, he was already beginning to feel dizzy, light-headed even, as he shuffled backwards. “See, thing is… okay, yeah, you’re not one for talking, okay, alright, I’m just gonna take my leave now…”

And he did. Thirty minutes later, he had a pizza box in one hand, groceries in his other arm, and was on the verge of passing out in his own hallway. But he made it into the apartment, listening to the voices of Arthur and Alfred, and, of course, Frank. Everything was a blur as he just dumped everything on his dining room table, making a beeline for the sofa. Not that he made it—he crashed like a sack of potatoes next to the couch, “so hungry… no energy… damn succubi..”

[Arthur the Hunter]

Arthur's head was reeling with all the new information, and he clutched the newly-given soft toy as if he could draw some comfort from it. What had Demy called it? A unicorn plushie?

Couch, chair, table, paintings, stove and oven for cooking- where did the firewood and flames go?- and a few other things he couldn't quite remember. It all seemed terribly convenient, though; food seemed to keep for much longer than he was used to, and he even had a special cave to keep food cold on hot days! He wondered where Demy had managed to find a dwelling place that had such convenient features, and figured that he must be a very powerful and influential person indeed. This must be the best area; surely no one else had all these conveniences. If such places like this existed, it was no wonder people stopped travelling.

"I'm tempted to try this coffee thing that you mentioned," he said conversationally to Alfred, still hugging the unicorn plushie and nodding at Frank who was sitting by his feet. "If you even have a special source just for coffee, it must be very good."

Suddenly the slab of wood at the entry way made a quiet clicking noise and swung open, revealing an exhausted-looking Demy carrying a box and a heavy bag.

"Demy!" Arthur cried, rushing to him as the demon stumbled to the couch, dropping what he was carrying as he crashed just next to it. "Are you quite alright? Here, let me help-"

He tried to pull Demy up to lie on the couch, but instead found himself pinned against it, unicorn thrown to the floor and Demy straddling his legs. He found himself unable to move, the demon's strength seemingly undiminished despite his obvious exhaustion. "Demy? What- what are you doing?"

[Wanda]

"Coffee is a awesome drink," Alfred smiled at Arthur.

Alfred was about tell Arthur about doors and the rest of the rooms when Alfred saw Demy come in, ...shit he doesn't look that well.

"...He didn't get a snack."

Frank sighed and shook his head, "No, he did not."

Alfred almost stepped over to help Arthur when the Neanderthal got pinned to the cough, but stopped himself, "...He needs to eat something before he dies, yes?"

"Yes." Frank nodded his head as he watched the scene.

"....and this is going to end in heartbreak, but...." Alfred signed and walked over to grab the bag and the pizza box, he won't be the reason Demy starved to death, he put down the bag on the bar and said to the guys on the cough, "I'm going to in my room and eat some pizza, I don't feel like watching Demy feed on you." Alfred was ignored by the men on the couch, he grabbed Frank by the neck and walked off, "Come on, let's give them some alone time."

"Aha come on, it's not like it's going to be anything.... too graphic!" Frank tried to wiggled anyway from Alfred's grip.

"I don't care." Alfred said as he picked a room to go in and lightly kicked the door close, "Now... we better leave some for Demy and Arthur..."

(....I'm out of the room. XD)

[Guest]

Demy didn’t know how it happened—one moment he was too weak to move, and the next, he was taking in the soft, spicy smell of raw energy and he had Arthur pinned to the couch between his legs. He was sure along the way, he might have groped Arthur’s legs, letting his hot breathe tickle over the other’s thighs, just before he had thrown him onto the couch at the first smell of strong sexual attraction—such a spicy, delicious, energetic taste, like flash of lighting. He was sure he had peppered his ministrations with strong begging, something along the lines of: I need you. Please, I just need you... I'll do anything... Don't let me die...

He gulped, slowly coming back to consciousness and he turned to see that Horny the Unicorn was now on the ground, giving him sad eyes, or maybe it was disappointment? He wasn’t sure. All he knew was that he could feel the gentle thrumming and tremor of Arthur’s body, and it was calling for him to feed, but he wasn’t about to feed so much without first asking. His chest was heaving, the result of having such little energy that he had to pant to take in a few breaths, but even amidst all of that, he could feel Arthur trusting him, the blush on his cheeks beginning to help him regain some strength.

“A—Arthur,” he gasped, flushed pink from fever, “I—I’m very weak right now, and I would—wouldn’t ask,” he paused, feeling his legs begin to buckle under the pressure of his oncoming weakness, “I—all my energy was… sucked off by an succubus… I—I’m so weak, Arthur I need you. I… really need you... I will explain, I swear I will explain, but please… please help me…”

And just as he had finished saying the words, he completely buckled over Arthur, falling flat over the Neanderthal’s body. Immediately, he let go of his hands, “please, just, just hold me...”

He was surprised when he felt the Neanderthal’s arms wrap tightly around him, bringing him close, and he pushed his nose to trace over the other’s pulse on his neck, taking in the strong smell of vibrant energy. Such pure, vibrant energy. Slowly, he began to recover, just a little, and to help Arthur’s attraction, he tugged at him lightly, taking hold of one of his hands to help him trace his hip bone. He was wearing a tight-pair of jeans, his favorite hot pants—a pair of low-riders that with little manipulation allowed full sight of his abs, especially the delicious curb of his hip and the demarcation line that pointed right down to his crotch. He could almost feel Arthur’s breathe hitch, and he took in a deep breath, easing into the other’s embrace. “I need you, Arthur,” he whispered, “I just need you to let me feel your attraction to me,” he explained, gently, trying not to scare the other, “so I can feed. Just a little. I promise I won’t harm you. Just a little…”

With that, Demy began to close his eyes, falling asleep in bliss. He could feel Arthur's hand slowly tracing over his abs, over the curve of his hip. Such an obedient little Neanderthal.

Before closing his eyes, though, he pressed a kiss to Arthur’s neck, right over his pulse and smiled. “Thank you, Arthur. T—thank you…”

[Arthur the Hunter]

“I—I’m so weak, Arthur I need you. I… really need you... I will explain, I swear I will explain, but please… please help me…”

Arthur could hardly breathe, Demy's weight pressing down on him and squeezing the breath from his lungs. The demon's face was flushed pink and sweating, and his body was trembling all over. What was going on?

“Please, just- just hold me...”

Clearly there was no time to waste. Demy looked desperately ill, and if this was what he wanted, well, then Arthur had no choice. He somehow extracted his arms from between them and wrapped them tightly around Demy, hoping Demy wouldn't feel the spreading blush of embarrassment throughout his body. Demy buried his nose in the crook of his neck, breathing in, and Arthur shivered.

Minutes passed without either of them moving, and Arthur attempted to distract himself by looking around the apartment. But he could hardly think for Demy's panting in his ear and the press of his fevered body against his, and he simply closed his eyes and tried to calm himself. But without warning he found his hand tightly grasped and moved down, trailing across dampened cloth before reaching-

Oh. Arthur sucked in a breath. He stroked his thumb across the offered skin guiltily, then tried to pull back. Demy simply held Arthur's hand to his hip more firmly.

“I need you, Arthur,” he whispered, “I just need you to let me feel your attraction to me, so I can feed. Just a little. I promise I won’t harm you. Just a little…”

Attraction? Arthur opened his eyes in surprise. Demy could- he shot down the rising panic and forced himself to look at it logically. He had nothing to be ashamed of. Demy looked exactly like his Alfred. It was only natural that he would be attracted somehow, being accustomed to thinking these thoughts around him. But what did feeding have to do with that?

Absently he traced circles over the plans of Demy's stomach, feeling each dip and swell of hard muscle. He blushed in humiliation upon realising what he was doing, but Demy's breathing was slowly relaxing under his touch.

The sudden press of lips against his neck made him shiver and pause. “Thank you, Arthur. T—thank you…”

Arthur looked up at Demy in confusion, biting his lip, but it seemed that the demon was falling asleep. "What are you doing to me?" he whispered, somewhat frightened but hoping his voice didn't show it. He stopped the movement of his hand, and the demon stirred a little and groaned in protest. "What- what's going on? Tell me." He swallowed nervously. "Please."

[Wanda]

Frank grumbled at the door and glared at the door knob, he turned his glare on Alfred, who sat on his bed and opened the box of pizza.

The wanderer grasped in surprise at the size of the cheese and sausage pizza, "Damn, these slices of pizza are huge!"

Frank jumped on to the bed and looked at the box, "Well, since we stuck in here for awhile, we might as well eat..."

They started to eat, using the napkins that Alfred grabbed on the way to his room, Frank glanced toward Alfred and smiled slyly, "So... what was your reason that you didn't want to watch? Were you afraid I was going to use this as a point toward you and your Arthur will become lovers?"

"No!" Alfred snapped out, "It's because I don't want to watch Demy feed, I figure I should give them time alone."

The pug just kept on staring at him with a look of 'that so not just the reason and you know it.'.

Alfred sighed to himself and mumbled, "Okay fine, so the Lovers part was part of the reason why.." His voice raised a bit, "But! The feeding part was another reason."

Frank just grinned at him.

After a few more minutes,

"Come on! It's been long enough! We can go back in the living room! Besides, we should make sure Arthur eats, yes? It been awhile since he last ate..." Frank gave Alfred his best puppy eyes.

The wanderer bit back a curse as he found the words and the puppy eyes work on him, "Fine, let's go."

Alfred opened the door and walked into the living room with the pizza box and yelled, "Hey, guys! Are you done? We need to make sure Arthur actually eats something!"

[Guest]

"What are you doing to me?" he whispered, somewhat frightened but hoping his voice didn't show it. He stopped the movement of his hand, and the demon stirred a little and groaned in protest. "What- what's going on? Tell me." He swallowed nervously. "Please."


When Arthur stopped running his fingers over his flushed skin, Demy opened his eyes—almost in a flutter. Through a half-lid stare, he shifted to fall on Arthur’s side, making sure not to fall off his embrace, but simply to cuddle closer to his side with his face still almost hiding in the crook of the Neanderthal’s neck. Demy was careful with his ministrations, well-aware that he was unintentionally still breathing rather hard and that his warm breathe as it peppered over Arthur’s smooth skin was probably affecting the other. A short moan of contentment escaped him when he took in the last of the energy needed to at least survive for the next day and a half, and he let out a sigh of contentment that vibrated against Arthur’s skin. He knew he had to draw away, but Arthur’s questions were clear on his mind, and he had promised—and Demy was one for keeping his promises.


He took hold of Arthur’s hand, carefully twining their fingers together so that he could bring his hand away from the band of his pants, closer between them, right at the juncture where their chests met. And with a hard gulp, Demy opened his eyes as far as he could, making sure that in the deep azure he showed how thankful he was at Arthur. And a part of him was tempted to lean forward and dip his head just at the right angel to perhaps steal a kiss—but he didn’t. That would have been overstepping: he was full. There was no need to be a glutton and steal Arthur’s energy further. He didn’t actually want to tire out the poor Neanderthal.


“I’ll explain,” Alfred’s chest continued to heave, and as he shifted; his shirt continued to ride up, but he made sure to pull it down, a short smirk running over his lips when he noted that Arthur’s eyes were following every single expanse of skin that became available. And with that in mind, he looked down towards the Neanderthal’s legs, noting that they were empty. So he turned a bit, twining their legs together—making sure that his thigh pressed tightly against the other’s crotch. And oh: the taste, the delicious taste of pheromones hit him again and he was in bliss. Absolute bliss. For the first time, he noted how hungry he had been, and probably how even when he was full, he could keep feeding from Arthur forever. “I’m an incubus,” he whispered coyly, eyes looking at their twined fingers even as his thigh pressed closer against the other’s skin, “which means that I am a Demon that preys on the sexual energy of humans. I partly feed from pheromones, which are these chemicals and smells a body gives off when attracted, but those are snacks in comparison to most of my meals, which involve sexual intercourse. You understand what I’m saying, yes, Arthur?”


He panted a bit, just now beginning to wake up fully.


“Arthur,” he gulped, giving him a short smile, “I’m sorry I… I have to do this to you. I really am because I know you have an Alfred and I’m sort of taking advantage of things here, but thank you: you just saved my life.” He looked away, beginning to loosen his hold on the other’s fingers, “see, I… I went chasing after that Angel, right? And I didn’t eat at all for a week. I managed to try and find someone tonight, but I was tricked out of my energy supplies, and I am… I am almost starving, well I was until you…” he paused, “you saved me. And I will never be able to thank you enough. If you ever want something, anything, my magic is at your disposal… really.”


"Hey, guys! Are you done? We need to make sure Arthur actually eats something!"


Demy heard Wanda’s voice and immediately panicked, staring down and becoming aware of the position he still had Arthur in. Sure, he loved the way the Neanderthal’s skin was now flushed, and the way his lips were barely spread, ready to say something, but he wasn’t about to let the dog or the doppelganger make any bad jokes—he’d already told them Arthur wasn’t more than a snack; he wasn’t going to hurt him.


So he immediately rolled off Arthur, hitting the floor with a large thud. “Damn it… y—yeah, we’re done!”

[Arthur the Hunter]

Arthur's head was spinning. He wanted to blame it on what Demy was saying, but he knew that wasn't it. Pheromones were easy to understand, feeding on them a little less so; but the press of Demy's body against him, the legs tangled with his, their fingers intertwined... He gasped as Demy's thigh pressed between his legs, face blushing scarlet.

“You saved me. And I will never be able to thank you enough. If you ever want something, anything, my magic is at your disposal… really.”

Arthur bit his lip. He knew better than to refuse the offer, but he couldn't help but want to reassure the demon. "I'll be here as long as you need me. I- I know what it's like to go hungry, and what it is to have your food stolen by others. Take whatever you need from me. Just... not that yet. Please."

Suddenly the entrance to the room was flung open, and Alfred and Frank strode in, carrying the box and bag.

"Hey, guys! Are you done? We need to make sure Arthur actually eats something!"

Demy immediately rolled off him, leaving Arthur feeling strangely cold. He sat up slowly, watching as they opened the box to reveal a large circular... thing.

"What is that? Food?" he asked curiously, sniffing. It smelled delicious, but he had to make sure it was what he thought it was. God but he hadn't had food in years! He cast a sideways glance at Demy, flushing and looking at him questioningly. "This is meant to be eaten, yes? Do you... Do you still need to eat things like this, or are you alright?"

[Wanda]

(...Meaty. I put the bag on the Bar a few posts ago. :D)

Some reason, he just have a feeling he just saved someone by barging in and he wasn't too sure why, he looked at Demy, "...why are you on the floor?"

Frank tilted his head sightly before smiling knowingly, "Oh, I imagined because he rolled off of Arthur..."

"...Aha." Alfred just said as he continued to look at the two.


"What is that? Food?"

Alfred nodded toward Arthur, "Yup, it's food! It's called pizza, it's a food you eat with your hands actually," He turned his gaze on Demy, "....Do demons even need to eat human food?"

(shooooort, i'm sorry. XD)

[Guest]

"Well, see, Demons don't need human food, but I rather like it. Like, a lot: especially hamburgers! And pizza! But, it's like getting all this satisfaction, but I get no energy from it, so it's really rather pointless, and probably wouldn't be smart right now -- given my situation and all -- as it'd mean wasting more energy than I'd ever get from eating that," Demy shrugged from his position on the ground, beginning to pick up Horny the Unicorn to hand it back to Arthur. He could almost feel the Neanderthal's worry, so he patted his hand, "thanks again. I'll make sure to find someone tomorrow night that'll sleep with me -- then you won't have to go through the, uh, chore of cuddling me and stuff..."

He chuckled when Arthur sniffed at the Pizza.

"Eat it; you'll like it," he encouraged Arthur, beginning to lift a slice for him and setting it on his hand. "I'll just be over here while you guys eat. Researching. About, uh, stuff..."

Demy walked over to the bar, looking through the bag to take out the book he'd bought on Neanderthals. He could already feel Frank chuckling. The image on the cover looked scarcely like Arthur, but he was sure it was easy to make out what the book was about. He crossed his legs, sitting on the stool and beginning to read. Sometimes he would steal peeks at Arthur. Maybe Alfred was right: this could only end in heartache.

"Just... not that yet. Please."

Y--yet? Did that mean that Arthur was willing to...? He wouldn't think about it. But, perhaps, if that was the case, would Arthur want to contract with him? He flushed pink. Time to change the subject!

"Hey Al, Arthur, you guys wanna go shopping tomorrow?"

[Arthur the Hunter]

Arthur blinked at the large triangular thing- pizza, he recalled- as Demy placed it into his hand. It was softer than he'd expected, drooping at the tip and dripping orange oil. He ducked his head down to catch a falling drop, biting off the tip.

His eyes nearly rolled back into his head at the taste. How long had it been since he had last eaten? He couldn't even describe the flavour- it wasn't the gamey taste of the boars and deer they used to hunt, but it was overpowering all the same. He could smell the familiar scent of wild garlic and the small bushes that he'd passed by sometimes in the forest, but he couldn't identify anything further. He ate ravenously, devouring the gigantic piece in a matter of seconds and licking his fingers of oil after.

"Hey Al, Arthur, you guys wanna go shopping tomorrow?"

"What's shopping?" Arthur asked, sucking his thumb into his mouth to lick more of the flavour off and grabbing another piece. "Is it like hunting? Should I bring my- Demy, did you lose my spear when you changed my furs?" he asked indignantly. "I might need that!"

[Wanda]

"So, you only eat human food for the taste," Alfred grinned at the demon, "Understandable, 'cause some of human taste good."

Frank mumbled something under his breath that sound like 'what is with some of these Alfreds and hamburgers?'.

chore of cuddling me and stuff...

Alfred almost dropped his piece of pizza at the images that come up in his mind, he mentally those ideas out. He doesn't need those thoughts, go away!

Frank just smirked and chuckled at Demy when he saw what the book he was reading.

The wanderer noticed the book as well and looked at Frank, "Should we get Arthur a book of..."

"No, Demy will be better info on demons for Arthur, I would imagine."


"Hey Al, Arthur, you guys wanna go shopping tomorrow?"

"That fine with me!" Alfred turned his gaze on Arthur and began to explain shopping, "People don't hunt anymore, they go to a building that has food, clothing and other stuff in it. Although there are some buildings that only sell food, clothing or other things."

He doesn't mention the fact that the people don't hunt anymore was only for this time. Where he comes from, some people DO hunt for their food.

(Should I have let Demy explain shopping or not? XD)

[Guest]

“We don’t hunt out of necessity in America, especially not for food, and even when people hunt—for sport, mind you—they don’t do it with spears,” Demy replied, flipping through a couple more pages of the book on Neanderthals. “Besides, you’re my responsibility. If you need food or protection, I’ll provide it for you. And, if you’re really so in love with that spear, I’ll conjure you up a new one, a better one… as soon as I get a full meal.”

And with that, he left the room, yawning. Along the way, he whispered his goodnights.

“I’ll see you both in the morning,” he took the book with him, still flipping through pages at a fast speed, “If you need anything, I’ll be in my room…”

***

Demy woke up earlier than his companions. On purpose. He’d spent most of the night finishing the book on Neanderthals and had come to find out a lot of things about Arthur. He was taking the Neanderthal’s words seriously: he was his responsibility. Throughout the night, he had mused on how fun it’d be to have Arthur around—almost like a pet. But, he’d also decided that Arthur wouldn’t benefit from living with a Demon his whole life, especially given Demy’s own penchant for hopping from city to city. Well, maybe that wasn’t it: according to the book, Arthur would have been used to moving around. Still, he’d read enough to know that Arthur’s survivor-mentality and nature would enable him to eventually enter the real world on his own. Until then, Demy had a lot to teach him: starting with writing, and reading. It really was a miracle that Arthur understood and spoke English. But Demy was going to be a good teacher to Arthur: he’d get him books on basic grammar and vocabulary, and sit with him through long-nights if needed so that his little Neanderthal would adequately master all things American!

For Demy, the whole experience was new. He’d never been needed before, much less wanted. People didn’t tend to want Demons. They also didn’t usually need them; who needed to be sucked of energy? But Arthur needed Demy, and that was both exciting and exhilarating to him: so much so that his entire being just thrummed with happiness.

He stacked the last of the breakfast: English sausages. And with that, he turned off the stove, blinking. Maybe he’d gone overboard? – But the book said that Neanderthals were primarily carnivorous, and seldom ate many vegetables, which meant his little Neanderthal needed lots of meat in his diet! Arthur was relatively slim, though. Demy shrugged; Frank and Alfred would also be eating, right? And with that, he eyed the breakfast table, which was full of freshly grilled hams, meat hash with potatoes, English sausages, Canadian bacon, regular bacon, sausage links, sausage patties, boiled hot dogs, some scrambled eggs, hashbrows, freshly squeezed orange juice, some toast, and his best rendition of chocolate-chip and peanut butter pancakes.

With a happy little skip in his step, and wearing only his favorite boxers underneath a fluffy, white bathrobe, he sat down on one of the seats, opening the book on Neanderthals again to read a bit more. “I’m going to make sure you’re well taken care of, Arthur,” he promised, running his fingers through his hair.



(Yes, Demy does in fact think of Arthur as a new pet he has to take care of. And he will teach Arthur how to read and write so that, like a little bird, he can fly off the nest! Assuming he wants to leave Demy. ;A;)

[Wanda]

After Alfred finished his meal, he took Arthur through the rest of the tour of the house.

He explained him about the doors, windows, fire escape, everything in the bathroom... well expect about the condoms, and then he told Arthur about the bedroom.

Alfred tapped on the bed, "This is a bed, you sleep in it," He then moved the covers and tapped the fitted sheet, "You sleep on this sheet and then used the covers that I moved away to cover your self as you sleep. And..." He put his hand on the pillow, "This is the pillow, you lay your head on it."

Then he showed Arthur the TV and how to use it, Alfred grinned, "And...that all for the tour of the house."

~*~*~*~*~*~*

Alfred woke up earlier because it's good to start the day early in his timeline. Frank blinked away sleep from his place on foot of the bed.

They walked out of the door and into the living room and stopped at what he saw, "Did you always get up this early or did you get up early to make breakfast."

Frank sniffed the air, "And that a lot of meat you cooked," He smirked slyly at Demy, "Well, well you decided to make a nice meal for the Neanderthal, how sweet of you..."

"Indeed... I wonder what this means?" Alfred tried not to break into a grin, "Oh... well, look at that. You are still reading that book."

"Oh, it could mean many things..." Frank's smirk grew when he saw the book.

This may still be a trainwreck, but for now.... it's kinda of cute right now.

(GAH. I'm sorry, there wasn't much jokes on Demy's cooking breakfast.)

[Arthur the Hunter]

Arthur woke up with a start, hearing the padding of feet in the next bedroom. Demy.

He curled up more securely into his little makeshift nest. The bed and pillow had been far too soft for his tastes, sinking and dipping every time he moved, so he had slid to the floor, grabbed the duvet, and wrapped it around himself like he had done before with his furs. The floor had been carpeted and was extremely comfortable, and he would have fallen asleep directly if it hadn't been for that infernal noise outside his window. Those large animals were making a huge racket, screeching and honking outside the apartment- actually, scratch that. He had no idea if they were animals or not. They could even be more machines; it seemed no one could live without machines here.

He heard banging in the kitchen, and wondered if Demy was going to cook food. He would like to know how that stove worked without firewood, but he was too sleepy right now to want to get up. It was an odd feeling- he usually got up at the slightest sound, ready to move in case of danger. He had to get used to the idea that he wasn't in any danger in this strange world where people had gone soft and chubby from lack of fear. He closed his eyes and tried to doze, lulled by the familiar sound of sizzling grease and the smell of meat.

He must have succeeded, and slept even longer and more deeply than he'd intended because when he next awoke, he could hear voices in the next room. Frank and Alfred. He got up, alert, and arranged his little nest so it looked slightly more presentable then made his way over to the door.

What caught his eye first was not the people standing around the table but the veritable feast of food, meat of all shapes and sizes on plates covering the surface. Demy stood by proudly, and Arthur's eyes widened. He hadn't seen such an array of food since-

"Demy," he choked out in awe. "Did you kill a mammoth all by yourself? Or," he corrected himself hastily. "Did you go shopping for one?"

Without waiting for an answer he darted a hand out to pick up a strange tube-shaped piece of meat. "What is this?" he asked curiously, sniffing it and taking a short lick. It seemed like they had added some spices into it, but he wasn't familiar with them. He stuffed it into his mouth and tore off a piece, chewing happily. "This is amazing!"

[Guest]

Alfred shook his head, unable to help the smile spread over his lips. “Oh you guys,” he chuckled, flipping over a few more pages of his book, “I just thought it’d be better to stick with things that his stomach can easily digest, ya know?”

The three of them sat down to eat; well, mostly Alfred and Frank were digging in while Alfred kept tabulating in his head how much of the giant feast would be left for Arthur, when, suddenly, his favorite little Neanderthal walked into the room—his eyes sparkling like a child on his birthday.

"Did you kill a mammoth all by yourself? Or did you go shopping for one?"

Demy laughed, finding Arthur’s comment increasingly adorable. He offered him a seat, setting his book down. “Yeah, Artie, I went out and killed an entire mammoth just for you,” he joked, shaking his head. He watched as the Neanderthal grabbed a giant sausage, licking it carefully with the tip of his tongue, and he gulped, looking away until Arthur had practically eaten the whole thing. Well, he definitely had little to no table manners, but the book hadn’t exactly lauded the Neanderthals for their fine cuisine or gentlemanly ways. So, with little warning, Demy grabbed Arthur’s wrist—gently—making sure to meet the other’s gaze, “lesson on how to live in New York number 1: there are ways to eat.”

And so began Demy’s life as a Neanderthal caretaker. He gave Arthur a smile, trying to prevent the other from growing embarrassed. Slowly, he let go of the other wrist, grabbing a fork. “This is a fork,” he demonstrated how to use it, stabbing at a sausage and offering Arthur a bite, “that’s one way to use it." He paused, watching the meat disappear into the other's mouth before handing off the fork. "Try it.”

He watched Arthur learn quickly; it was adorable to see the Neanderthal stabbing at everything with excitable eyes, trying to taste everything, take in every single flavor and spice and… Demy cleared his throat, grabbing a small sausage link and bringing it on his plate. “Arthur, watch me,” he cleared his throat, demonstrating how to use a fork and a knife to cross the meat cross-ways. And with delicacy, Demy brought the piece of meat to his lips, giving Arthur a wink, “you’ll get it soon enough. Now, let’s finish eating so we can go shopping. We have a long day and a lot to get done.”

[Wanda]

(....I lost my first post, dammit. :|)

Alfred and Frank were pretty damn sure it wasn't just so that Arthur can digest his food easily, and Alfred just shrugged before grinning at Demy, "Suuuure, whatever you say."

Alfred took a seat and started to eat his breakfast, he gave out some food to Frank, who was sitting in a chair near Alfred.

The wanderer looked up and saw Arthur come out his room, he waved at Arthur, "Good morning, Arthur!"

When the neanderthal picked up a sausage and licked it before stuffing it in his face, the first thought was Damn, someone actually had worse table manners than me.

He almost got up to tell Arthur how to use the silverware but stopped when Demy moved over to do it, he watched the lesson for a bit before he started to eat again.

Sweet, more time to see how the world was before the nuclear war.

(I find it hilarious that Demy... gulped at what Arthur did while Alfred just thought 'dude, worse table manners than me!')

[Arthur the Hunter]

Arthur flushed with mortification as Demy held the fork out to him, but he ate the offered piece of meat anyway. So there were rules on eating here- fair enough, he supposed. Living together in one place so long must have made the people bored out of their minds, so they would have invented different ways to act just so they could amuse themselves. But it didn't matter how it happened; what mattered was that right now Arthur was not fitting in, and how could he expect to survive if he couldn't adapt? He would train himself into these mannerisms until he got them absolutely perfect.

He tried everything enthusiastically, awkwardly wrapping his hands around the fork and knife as he tried the second method of eating. It was neater this way, he realised, with smaller bites and cleaner fingers. Perhaps these people had a point.

He was tempted to ask how shopping worked, seeing as a building that you walked into to get food from people seemed entirely too altruistic to be true. He remembered vaguely seeing some small places along the path where men traded these tube-shaped pieces of meat for little round objects- perhaps tokens or gemstones of some sort? He furrowed his brow as he ate, trying to work it out in his head. When he had first been alive, if tribes met they would either fight or trade what they had. They never traded useless trinkets, but perhaps they had some value? Little objects were nothing compared to food- but wait. Often in a trade the items wouldn't be of equal value, so perhaps these tokens were a way to bypass that. If these tokens could be traded for food, then the tokens obtained from that traded for, say, the fork and knife... It made much more sense than waiting around for someone to have what you want and be willing to trade.

Good heavens, he thought in wonder. This world is brilliant. Trading is standardised!

"How do you get those little round shiny things?" he asked Demy and Alfred, trying to gesture with his hands to make them understand. "And those little green rectangular leaves. You trade them for food, yes? When we go to that building to go shopping, we have to bring them?"

Guys, Arthur is an ECONOMIST now haha. I just realised basic concepts of economy would be relatively easy for him to grasp as well as being some of the first things he has to learn.

[Sponsored content]