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Hunter’s kiss had rendered me frozen. I hadn’t expected it, and yet, when it happened, it was all I wanted. Those strong hands on my shoulders, that wide mouth slanted across mine, the heat of his breath slipping over my lips like a whisper for me to let him in.
My lips parted with a groan, like they should have in the moment. Not hours too late.
I stroked furiously, breath rough and lonely in the silence of the basement.
God, would Hunter let me . . . Hell, I really wanted to . . .
I whined out a curse and wet heat shot over my belly.
I slumped back, throwing the crook of my arm over my face. Not the first time I’d jerked off thinking about Hunter. Throughout the summer, I’d pictured his DaMage avatar and mine going at it. I never felt weird about it before, so why did I feel on edge tonight?
Because it was closer to something attainable?
Because, somewhere in the city, Hunter was sleeping with the taste of me on his lips?
Or maybe because he was frowning at his ceiling, wondering why I didn’t kiss him back?
I slung out of bed and cleaned myself in the bathroom. I stared at my mussed hair and chewed lip in the mirror. “You absolute idiot.”
Demon-Slayage Chat archives
July
DaMage: Fawkes, you know, I’d let a Kalvaleth demon suck the soul out of my eye socket for you. But I’d prefer to eat demon dung than follow you into that cave again.
Me: But . . . The last crystal for the potion to make me a better knight . . .
DaMage: Maybe learn to improve yourself with what you already have?
Me: I’ll give you half the crystal.
DaMage: I’d prefer to strip and hula-hoop in a vampire lair than follow you into that cave again.
Me: *sigh*
DaMage: Prefer to moisturize my rosy cheeks with goblin come.
Me: Right.
DaMage: Prefer to have an incubus demon pound into me for eternity.
Me: I got it.
Me: Wait, is that last one bad?
DaMage: I suppose it depends on the incubus.
DaMage: I’d prefer to have an incubus demon pound into my throat with a spiked, baseball-bat penis than walk into that cave.
Me: Are you gonna keep this up all night?
DaMage: I’d prefer a nine-foot alpha wolf ass-impregnate me.
Demon-Slayage Chat archives
August
Me: It’s a witch’s cottage!
DaMage: She’s dead.
Me: We’re here to lay low, not play house.
DaMage: I’m just watering the herbs.
Me: Which is costing you your limited water supply. I’d prefer you alive over some plants.
DaMage: Some of these herbs could be used to save us later. The pecigella gives the consumer strength—especially knights.
Me: I won’t need to be strong if you’re gone. Won’t need to be here at all.
DaMage: I like you too, Fawkes.
Demon-Slayage Chat archives
August
Me: Is it DaMage like Da Man? Because basically this whole time, I’m singing Da Maaaage in my head.
Me: Are you there?
Me: Nevermind.
Demon-Slayage Chat archives
August
DaMage: Short sesh today. Got a date.
Me: A date?
DaMage: Cute guy ran into me and wants to make it up over dinner. I said yes.
Me: Er . . . Have fun.
Demon-Slayage Chat archives
August
Me: Are you always going to fire spells before I can draw my knife?
DaMage: Huh?
Me: That vampire was about to suck my throat, and you killed him.
DaMage: And?
Me: Fine, sure. Always be the hero.
DaMage: Look, I’m sorry.
Me: Yeah, sure. Maybe ask me next time first.
DaMage: I did save your life. You’re welcome.
Me: It’s my life.
DaMage: What’s going on, Fawkes?
Me: You blasted that thing to smithereens.
DaMage: Not the game. What’s up?
Me: Why, want to save me in RL too?
DaMage: Look, right now you’re being an ass.
Me: That’s so not true.
DaMage: Go make yourself a drink. Jerk off. I’ll chat with you later.
Demon-Slayage Chat archives
August
Me: Soooo. I’m crap at apologies.
DaMage: Acknowledgment is a start.
Me: I was upset and stupid and . . . feeling sorry for myself.
DaMage: We all have our moments.
Me: Anyway, how did your date go?
DaMage: Hmm?
Me: The one from the other day?
DaMage: Oh. He just wanted to hook up.
Demon-Slayage Chat archives
September
Me: What are you up to?
DaMage: In the game? Or RL?
Me: Wasn’t talking about the game.
DaMage: My sister’s leaving for a semester overseas. I’m making a goodbye dinner.
Me: Nice. Are you two close?
DaMage: We used to be, and I think we will be again.
Me: But not right now?
DaMage: She’s been a bit overprotective of me.
Me: Overprotective?
DaMage: Older sibling.
Me: Oh, right. I wouldn’t know. Only child. AKA spoiled brat.
DaMage: Or ultra-independent? What are you up to?
Me: My uncle’s best friend is staying the week. I’m hiding.
Me: What are you making for dinner?
DaMage: Tagliatelle con ragu bolognese
Me: Sounds delicious. Think of me when you eat it.
DaMage: Think of you?
Me: Yeah, that was weird . . .
DaMage: I do, though, think of you outside the game.
Me: I gotta . . . Sorry, Uncle Ben and Jason found me . . .
My cheeks burned and I stopped reading through archived chats. Uncle Ben and Jason hadn’t found me that night; I forced a reprieve when I could no longer stand the flurry of feelings. It was clear, in retrospect, that I’d been into Hunter for a while.
