Dancing With Fire - Chapter 9
#9 of Dancing With Fire Act 1 - The Kindling Ignites
In the three years he had worked for I.M.P., Moxxie had never felt more conflicted.
He had been surprised and delighted when Blitzø had walked in during the morning meeting and slapped down a sheet of paper detailing his promotion to Chief of Operations. It had come with a hefty pay increase, and with the duty of payroll passing to Moxxie for the time being, he and Millie could actually afford to go on vacation this year!
Moxxie had wasted no time in the following month reorganizing I.M.P. to prioritize efficiency and professionalism. True, he had to continue to put up with Blitzø's antics and impulsive purchases, but with control of the purse strings now in his hands, Moxxie was able to curb their frequency. Of course, Blitzø hadn't been pleased to learn he couldn't blow as much company money on his pet projects as before. Moxxie had been able to placate him by allocating a small part of the budget to "discretionary spending" that Blitzø could draw on when he felt like wasting money.
Of course, the downside of this promotion was a drastically increased workload, with less of an emphasis of going on missions. At the moment, Moxxie was sitting in a hastily erected cubicle that served as his new "office." More cubicles were set to be erected wherever they would fit, for when they would eventually be hiring more people.
Moxxie pushed away from his desk and rubbed his temples. Mountains of paperwork were piled high before him. He was laying the groundwork for the establishment of formal billing, marketing, and accounting departments.
With Millie out on the job, he saw much less of his beloved wife than he used to, and it was driving him nuts. Hopefully having the foundations of a full office team would be well worth the extra work and the separation anxiety. The two accountants Mr. Harper lent I.M.P. were already proving their worth to the tune of tens of thousands of recovered Souls after years of Blitzø's clerical mistakes were cleaned up.
And there, more than the extra work and the diminished time spent with his Millie, was what conflicted Moxxie the most. There was no doubt that Harper's involvement was greatly improving the company's fortunes and income. The contracts coming in from the various subsidiaries and shell companies Harper fielded would ensure I.M.P. stayed in business for years. But they owed their access to the living world to one of Harper's worst enemies. Stolas was ignorant of his rival's involvement for now, but how long could that last? What would happen when - not if - he found out? Letting that Overlord into their lives could be putting him and his beloved wife in danger.
The little imp gave up on his work for the time being and headed to the restroom. After splashing his face, he headed to the break room to grab another cup of coffee. It was going to be another long day.
To his pleasant surprise, he found someone waiting for him there. "Millie!" he exclaimed. His wife got up from the table and clasped hands with him as they affectionately rubbed noses. "You're back early!"
"I know, right?" Millie chirped, "Turns out the guy we were after didn't have any sense of self-preservation. He was easy pickings."
"That's great! But where's Blitzø? He usually comes by to pester me after a mission."
"Oh, he said he had to go meet with Mr. Harper, and it was important. We're in charge of closing tonight."
Moxxie stepped back and put his hands on his hips. "Again? How many times in one month must that imp run off to meetings with him? I know he is an investor now, but what could they possibly have to discuss that would justify him going over to Mr. Harper's estate so much? Wait..." his eyes widened, "You don't suppose there is something else going on between them, do you?"
Millie shrugged, "Whatever it is, it must be something he enjoys. He's always in a great mood the next morning. Maybe they're friends? Or maybe he's doing something like he does with Stolas, only every week instead of every full moon?"
Moxxie growled and tangled his claws in his hair. "That reckless buffoon better not be seeing Lord Harper behind Stolas's back! He's already taking a huge risk letting him finance the company!"
His growing anxiety was defused when his wife put her arms around him. "I'm sure he'll be alright, Mox," she soothed, "we'll be alright. First thing tomorrow, we'll confront him together and get to the bottom of this."
Moxxie relaxed and let his tail coil around hers as natural as could be. "Right. We'll bring it up at the team meeting."
Harper racked the barbells with a grunt of relief. He glanced back at the obscene number of weights packed onto it. This had to be a new record.
While stretching, the drake took a moment to admire the thick slabs of muscle that covered his stocky frame. While he had enjoyed a linebacker's build in life that had come in handy for boardroom intimidation, this demonic body had so much more potential. He had every intention of pushing it as far along as he could.
Before he could begin another set, he was jolted by a loud crash from somewhere on the first floor. Harper dashed from his home gym and down the stairs. It sounded like it had come from the dining room. He could hear voices shouting as he drew nearer.
Inside the dining room, Harper found two imps against the wall beside the overturned table and scattered chairs. Drek had Blitzø pinned to the wall with a blade to his throat and his teeth bared in fury. Blitzø, for his part, had the common decency to be terrified. He held his hands up as he babbled half-coherent explanations over Drek's accusations.
" QUIET!" boomed Harper. The quarreling imps immediately froze and looked in his direction. As wide-eyed as Drek was from the shock, Blitzø's eyes grew wider still at the sight of the dragon in a form-fitting tank top and shorts.
Harper did not seem to notice he was being ogled, however. "Drek! Stand down." He barked. His valet reluctantly obliged.
Blitzø dusted himself off, but kept his eyes fixed on the Overlord. This was the first time he'd seen his arms and legs bare. He was fucking ripped! The tank top he wore was cut low too, and a good portion of his deep red pecs was exposed for all to see. Those gym shorts clung to his thighs, which were thick as tree trunks. On top of all that, the dragon's crimson hide was dusted with beads of sweat that glistened in the fading evening light.
And now Harper was saying something. Blitzø shook his head. "Come again?"
"I said," Harper repeated, "What is going on here?"
"Oh yeah! You said the other day we could hang out later in the evening. I suggested a movie night and you liked the idea. Well here I am!" Blitzø nervously bent down to show the day pack he'd brought along with him. "I brought my favorite to show you tonight."
Harper steepled his fingers and nodded. "Yes, I remember we agreed to meet tonight. You had not called to arrange a time to pick you up. I was going to send a car once I was finished with my exercises."
The imp looked away, his cheeks burning. Wait, why was he blushing? "Probably should've called ahead, but I knew the way here and I'd memorized your schedule. Didn't think it'd be a big deal if I came in. But apparently not." He shot an acidic glare at Drek, who only rolled his eyes and folded his arms.
"Drek was only doing his job, which includes protecting me, my property, and my staff from intruders," Harper sighed. His fingers rubbed at one of his temples. "Nevermind. What's done is done. Drek, right the table and chairs. The domestic staff will take care of the rest. Blitzø, you may wait for me in the entertainment room. I will go shower and get a change of clothes."
He turned to leave, then stopped. "And Blitzø, if you wish to come over on your own, that's fine. Just be mindful of our schedules and please call ahead before you arrive."
Blitzø nodded dumbly as Harper rounded the corner to head back upstairs. Drek grumbled softly as he began to pick up toppled chairs. True to form, Blitzø opted to hover over him instead of going straight to the entertainment room.
"It's a good thing your boss showed up when he did. Else I'd have kicked your ass," he said with a smug grin.
Drek chose not to dignify that with a response. He only huffed and scooted further away from the other imp. Blitzø followed close behind.
"At the very least you could watch the threads," he continued, "This is my favorite coat! They don't make 'em like this anymore."
Finally, the valet stood bolt upright, his face twisted into a grimace. "That will be quite enough out of you," he snapped, "and if you don't mind, please take a step or two back. You have a very prominent erection, and I would prefer to keep it more than a foot away from my head while I clean up."
Blitzø tilted his head in confusion, then glanced down. Sure enough, his pants were tented obscenely outward by a proud, throbbing shaft of arousal.
"Huh! Well would you look at that!" he mused.
"I would prefer not to."
"Pff, quit being such a prude," retorted the taller imp, "Can you blame me? That adrenaline rush from you almost knifing me could make anybody hard outta reflex." He paused, then tapped his foot as the valet worked. "Hey, would you mind if I go find a bathroom and take care of this?"
"I would very much mind, Mr. Blitzø," growled Drek as he struggled to right the dining table by himself, "I will not have you wandering this house waving that around for the staff to see."
"Alright, fair enough," said Blitzø. A sly smile spread across his face. "You wanna touch it?"
With an almost feral snarl of frustration, Drek grabbed Blitzø by the tail. With a strength uncharacteristic of his size, he hauled the larger demon out of the dining room, down the hall, and into the entertainment room. He let go of his tail, then grabbed him by the shoulders to fling him onto the sofa centered in front of the large flatscreen TV that took up most of one wall.
"Ow!" cried Blitzø, "What did I just say about watching the threads, dick?"
Drek jabbed a finger into Blitzø's chest. "May I remind you, Mr. Blitzø," he said, "that my skills with a blade are second to none. Unless you wish for your genitals to be swiftly and painfully separated from the rest of you, you will never invite me to touch them again."
"Okay, okay! Sheesh!" Blitzø said, waving his hands defensively.
Drek continued, "Now you wait here on this couch for Mr. Harper. Be quiet, and if the cleaning staff find a single semen stain anywhere in this room, I will bury you alive."
"Gotcha."
"Not. One. Single. Stain," Drek warned as he poked Blitzø with each word. Once he was satisfied the other imp had gotten the message, he straightened up and took his leave.
Blitzø sat with his arms and legs crossed, silently willing the hardon straining his fly to go away. He didn't know what upset him more: that he was being forced to waste a perfectly good erection, or that it was definitely not sparked by the adrenaline rush of his fight with Drek. He was lucky Harper hadn't noticed just how intently Blitzø had been looking at him.
Fortunately, Blitzø's steadfast companion eventually got the hint and slackened. And not a moment too soon! Harper walked in just a moment later. He had traded his workout attire for a plain white t-shirt and a comfortable pair of lounge pants. "Good evening, Blitzø," he said cheerfully, "I am eager to see what movie you've brought for us. The cook will be around shortly with a bowl of popcorn for us."
Blitzø eyed the draconic demon. "Hehe yeah," he said nervously, "Though it's kinda weird seeing you out of a suit."
Harper chuckled, "I may dress formal when I have business to attend to, but when my schedule is clear for the rest of the day, it helps to put on something more comfortable."
Fucking goddammit Harper don't say it like that. You're gonna make me hard again! Blitzø thought as he suppressed the mental picture of Harper in even more revealing attire.
"Thanks for reminding me!" he said, before standing up to slip out of his coat and his shirt. Harper almost started to object until he saw that the imp was wearing a comfortable t-shirt and shorts underneath his normal wear.
Blitzø then turned his attention to his day pack. His nervousness vanished as he pulled out the box of his favorite movie and presented it to Harper.
Harper took the beat-up cardboard VHS sleeve from Blitzø and examined the title. "Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron," he read aloud.
"Uh huh!" chirped Blitzø as he kicked his legs excitedly in his seat, "I've had this since I was a kid! The tape might be a little snowy, but I know you're gonna love it."
"I'm sure I will," replied Harper with a smile.
Harper found he was indeed enjoying the movie. It was spectacular to see how 2D animation had grown and evolved over a whole century, and Spirit showcased just how far it had come. Of course, it helped to be able to hear the movie too. This became difficult as Spirit was led away from the riverbank by humans, leaving his mare to die. As Spirit was led onto a train car, the somber music accompanying the scene was drowned out by the loud sobs of the imp beside him.
"F-fuck," sniffed Blitzø as he blew into yet another tissue from the extra-large box he'd brought with him, "I'm-I'm sorry, Harper, t-this is the part that always..." whatever he was going to say was lost to incoherent bawling.
The Overlord shifted uncomfortably in his seat as Blitzø continued ugly-crying. He felt like he should do something, but he'd never done well with people crying around him.
Harper glanced over to the imp, then back to the screen. Timidly he reached for Blitzø, then withdrew. Finally, he made a decision and curled his arm around the other, much smaller man's shoulders. "Come here," he said.
In an instant, Blitzø lunged and threw his arms around the dragon's midsection. His sobs were muffled as he buried his face into the other demon's broad chest.
Sighing, but with a small smile on his face, Harper settled in to let Blitzø lay against him and rubbed his back in slow circles. The imp gradually calmed down as the train ride on screen came to an end. By the time Blitzø was able to look up again, Harper's shirt had been dampened by tears and snot.
"Ah shit," he said, still sniffling, "I fucking did it again."
"It's perfectly alright," said Harper, "Emotions are a normal fact of life, and the afterlife too, as I have learned."
Blitzø spent the remainder of the movie clinging to Harper. Though he had calmed down, neither of them felt the need to pull away. For Blitzø, feeling all that muscle surrounding his wiry frame felt oddly comfortable, and he couldn't be bothered to get up. For Harper, he felt a strange warmth in his chest. One that he hadn't felt in a very long time.
Occasionally, the Overlord glanced down at Blitzø, who watched the screen with rapt attention. But gradually, the imp's eyelids grew heavier, and his grasp on Harper weakened. The dragon demon shifted to put his legs up on the couch, with the imp resting in his lap.
As the credits rolled, Harper grabbed the remote to turn off and rewind the tape. He'd thought that Blitzø had fallen asleep, and was surprised to hear him speak.
"Didja like the movie?"
The Overlord chuckled and nodded. "It was an excellent film, I thoroughly enjoyed it."
Blitzø shifted against the dragon, though he kept his head firmly planted on his chest. "Hey Harper? Can I tell you what I like most about it?"
"I'm listening."
"All Spirit wanted was to run free, and he got it in the end. No reins, no saddle, no rider, nothing. He was a wild mustang, and he never stopped being one. Hell his Indian buddy even gave him his full name, 'Spirit-Who-Could-Not-Be-Broken.'"
Blitzø sighed, then glanced up at Harper. "That's fucking beautiful. And it's how I'd like to be." Then he laid his head back down.
Harper looked at the now dark TV screen. "It really is," he murmured. Then he looked back at Blitzø, "And it's what I think I like the most about you."
It didn't look like Blitzø heard him, however. His eyes had fluttered closed and his breathing had deepened. Right then, I won't be leaving this couch tonight, thought Harper.
The Overlord looked up to see Drek standing in the doorway. He silently gestured to his valet, who curtly nodded, then turned down the lights and closed the door.
As Harper settled in, his thoughts bounced about his head in rapid succession. Thoughts about himself, I.M.P., Blitzø, and his relationship with the two all played out in his mind.
When the dragon demon finally let sleep claim him later that night, his mind still hadn't been made up.