Dire Straits by Megan Derr

his head, he stared down into a hot, yellow gaze. "Ez—"
    Laughing, Ezell pulled off his cock and removed his fingers, and that was all the warning Bannick had before he was being fucked as hard as he had earlier fucked Ezell. So different, he thought hazily. Ezell of fourteen years ago had been nothing like this. He'd been eager and willing, but still shy enough he'd never taken the lead or even initiated much. He'd always been happy to let Bannick be in control.
    Bannick did not at all mind this new aspect, someone who was not intimidated in the slightest by him and was more than willing to take all that Bannick could offer—and whatever it made him, he did not mind at all that animal yellow light of demon eyes. Perhaps it was only natural, given how well he'd taken to drinking demon blood. Or maybe he just liked the hint of danger, the hint of dark path, to it all.  Blood priests weren't known for timidity, after all.
    He felt every inch as Ezell pulled out and then thrust back in, rocking them, the bed, and this time when he came he did not have to worry about muffling his scream. Ezell bent and took his mouth, kissing him hard, and the sharp taste of demon blood flooded his mouth as they both came.
    Hot, sticky, dizzy—Bannick could do nothing more than lay panting for several minutes, and gods have mercy, but that had just made him like waking up.
    "What time is it?" he asked when he could think again.
    "Little after seven," Ezell replied, still a bit of growl to his voice. He sat on the edge of the bed, clearly trying and failing to make himself get out of it.
    Bannick thought it would not be much longer before Ezell and his demon were so fused as to be indistinguishable. He smiled faintly and sat up, wrapping an arm around Ezell and dropping a soft kiss on his shoulder. "We're due at the Temple in a little over an hour, then. But after we report, we should get the rest of the day off."
    "I hope so," Ezell said and turned enough to take a proper kiss, lingering, before he finally pulled away and stood up. "Come on, then. Your clothes are there." He motioned to the trunk at the foot of the bed.
    Sighing, Bannick climbed out of bed—then stopped in surprise. "These are my clothes. How—"
    Ezell laughed. "I woke up for a little while, earlier. Ate dinner, sent Jimmy to your house to fetch what you'd need for today. Your landlady, he observed, was terrifying."
    "She is," Bannick agreed. "Guess I was more tired than I realized, to sleep as long as I did. Thanks for fetching my stuff." He strode briefly into the wash room to clean himself up, then returned to the bedroom and swiftly dressed. As he was going to the Temple, his clothes were of better quality than his everyday clothes, though he still wore only slacks, shirt, vest, and frock coat.  Securing his collar with his pin, he then buckled on his guns, checking each before holstering them. He never felt the same without his gun belt; he'd grown far too used to the weight and feel of it, the presence.
    He turned to Ezell and took a moment just to admire. There was still something of the scholar about Ezell, but he mostly just looked like the mages of old in the black coat with its double row of buttons, the long hair, and the fractured eyes. As if he were just this side of tamed and would go feral in a moment. It was not a look he'd ever expected to see on Ezell, but he liked it as much as the sweet smile that Ezell offered him.
    "Shall we go, then?" Ezell asked. "The sooner we go, the sooner we're hopefully free."
    Bannick nodded, and they  made their way out of the house, Bannick grabbing up his hat as they left. Out on the street, they started walking.  From Ezell's house, he could see the Pantheon, the colorful spires and globes of the Crown Palace, the Temple, the Armory, and the Great Cathedral. From Rue St. George, it was an easy walk, and any time of day in the city, walking was faster than riding.
    They reached the Temple at a quarter past eight, and