Page 197 of Demons Dig Donuts

“Raph… Wow. Just… fucking wow. Wow.”

Ah, yes.

Poetry.

“I concur,” Mr. Heiss panted, his hold trembling as he carried Indy back to the couch. He gracelessly flopped into the cushions and held Indy close. He kissed along Indy’s jaw and neck. “Are you all right?” he asked gently.

“Me? Oh, I’m fabulous.” Indy gurgled out a laugh. “My asshole has its own heartbeat, my balls are completely drained, and yeah, wow.”

Mr. Heiss cupped Indy’s chin, scolding, “Indy.”

“Yes, I’m fine. Gonna be sore, but it’s nothing a hot shower, some drugs, and rum and Dr Pepper can’t fix.”

“Where to then?”

“Home.”

“Mine or yours?”

“Yours.” Indy smiled as he remembered the special gift he had waiting for Mr. Heiss. “I still have to give you your surprise. And no, it’s not donuts, RuPaul, or sex.”

“Is there anything else?” Mr. Heiss pretended to wonder out loud, sarcasm dripping from every word. “What could it possibly be? What more is there to life?”

“Shut up and help me go find my thong.”

“This is stupid.”

“It is not stupid.”

“It is not going to work.” Mr. Heiss eyed the cardboard box in Indy’s arms hatefully.

Inside was—what else—a mourning dove.

They were at Mr. Heiss’s home, the hidden one, standing outside in the woods.

Securing a bird to be a potential immortal companion for another immortal bird had been startlingly easy. Learning how to make the perfect home for one took a few hours of searching the internet and a trip to the local pet store. Keeping it all a secret from Mr. Heiss hadn’t been easy, but seeing the look on Mr. Heiss’s face right now was worth it.

Yes, he was grumpy, but there was something else hiding in his gaze.

Hope.

Indy had already set up the new bird bath right outside the bedroom window, one with a wide but shallow basin because he’d read doves liked those best. The bird feeder was a big mesh tray since doves preferred ground feeding, and he’d placed it a few feet away from the bird bath but still in view from the window. He’d even ordered food specifically formulated for doves.

Introducing Miss Alasbaster’s companion was the only thing left.

Indy kneeled. “You want me to open the box or do you want to do it?”

“I do not care,” Mr. Heiss grumbled, though he watched Indy with great interest.

“Okay.” Indy opened the box halfway so he could peek in at the puffy gray ball of feathers inside. “Hi, Cher.”

“You named the bird Cher?”

“What? He looks like a Cher, so—” Indy jerked as Cher flew out of the box, zooming off into the trees. He laughed as he plopped down in the grass. “See? Dramatic exit. Just like Cher.”

Mr. Heiss sighed heavily, sitting behind Indy. “This is very, very stupid.”

“You’re just mad you didn’t think of it first.”