Page 68 of Demons Dig Donuts

Some cuddles.

Perhaps a nice, long, hard—no.

No, no. Just the bed.

“Where are your linens? Pillows?” Gammy asked Mr. Heiss. “You don’t seem to have a guest room, but—”

“He will take my bed.” Mr. Heiss ushered Indy out of the kitchen. “Don’t worry. I won’t be in it.”

“Better not be,” Indy declared as he unsteadily marched down the hallway. “Still pissed at you over these stupid ass jammies. Do you have any idea what a crime it is to hide this perfect little body? My revenge will be legendary, you just fucking wait.”

“Oh, of course,” Mr. Heiss cooed in the most condescending tone humanly possible.

Demonly possible.

Demonish? Demonically?

Fuck, Indy really needed to pass out.

“Night, Gammy! Night, Dill!” Indy called out over his shoulder as he made friends with the wall, using it to support himself as he walked along. “Love you!”

Dill squeaked.

“Good night! Love you!” Gammy hollered back. “Looks like it’s me and you, Dilly bean, my dear. So, you want to go watch more RuPaul with me, big fellow? Next season is supposed to be even better and…”

Indy smiled to himself, charmed by the thought of Gammy binging more drag queens with Dill. She didn’t need to sleep and presumably neither did Dill. Maybe they’d light a candle so Aodnait could join them too. Indy would have loved to join them, but he needed sleep.

Sleep, bed.

Throwing up?

No.

No.

Why was this seriously the longest hallway in the history of ever?

Where was the bedroom?

And where the hell was Mr. Heiss?

Indy thought he’d been right behind him, but he found nothing when he looked over his shoulder. The simple movement was a horrible decision as it made everything spin violently. He stumbled, one plush Sonic slipper catching on the other as he tried to adjust his feet, and he pitched forward through the bedroom doorway. “Ah, fu—”

Mr. Heiss was already inside the room and effortlessly caught him. “Are you all right?”

“Oh, uh…” Indy blinked up at Mr. Heiss, bracing himself on his chest. “Yup. Good. Ready for another round.”

“I think you’ve had enough, hmm?”

“I didn’t trip because I’m drunk. Because I’m not drunk.” Indy swayed, pressing closer purely to steady himself.

Yes, that was it.

Mr. Heiss arched a very dubious eyebrow.

“Okay, I might be a little drunk, but really I tripped over these stupid slippers. So, technically, this is all your fault for putting me in this dumb shit.”

“Then explain why you can barely stand.”