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The veil of the night would normally be one of those things you wouldn't expect in the underworld, but it was very much present. While the morning hours were far from the blue skies that the mortal world enjoyed, they had their own light sources that somehow rained down on them from their otherwise infinitely dark skies. How this worked, nobody knew; the exact specifics of such a phenomenon were out of the reach of all but a handful of the oldest demons still alive, and these demons, like all old men do, enjoyed trolling their younger brethren by withholding this seemingly trivial information.

But we're not here to discuss otherworldly physics, but rather to see, hidden in the veil of the night, as one young man, a truly hopeless suitor, went to the absolute extremes just for a chance to look at the object of his feelings, the target of his unbridled love. Yes, we're talking about a stalker.

Somewhere among the thick foliage of a tree's branches, lying in wait on top of one of the thicker ones available, was the reaper demon Mort. The dark green shirt and pants, along with his own black skin, made him blend perfectly among the leaves, keeping him away from any and all prying eyes. The only thing mildly visible in the darkness was the stark white of his skull face and the dim green flames on his otherwise empty eye sockets, but he had no time to worry about that; not when the only thing keeping him apart from the very source of his heartbeat were a few meters of air and an uncovered window. What he would give to be one of those lucky few born with wings, even if just for a moment, so he could fly up to that window and spirit his beloved away.

In that damp room, walls covered in bookshelves and little plush skeletons and zombies littering the floor all the way to the rug under the bed, only one single beam of light could be truly called 'bright', and what luck did he have that the one bulb in the room fell right on top of her. Lily -just the name was more than enough to make his heart flutter- lay on her bed, using that one light to properly read one of those silly romantic novels of hers, the ones with zombie girls falling for the rich mummy guy, or the reaper that stayed by the side of the sick for months until the sweet release of death finally brought them together. How he wished to be the one in a romantic novel with her. How he loved the way her slender fingers passed the pages, leading up to those rarely seen arms of her exposed by her sleeveless gown; the way those ebony locks of hair fell on her ivory skin like the smooth feeling their embrace promised drove him mad with desire.

"My beautiful lady of the Styx, reap my soul like you have reaped my heart," he whispered, enthralled by the sight that unfolded in front of his eyes. But as if his wistful voice had reached those perfect ears, Lily's head rose in curiosity and Mort had no choice but to lie down, with inhuman speed, in the hope that the branches, his unwavering allies, would hide his large frame from her beautiful prying eyes. "Did she see me? Did her heart tell her that her true beloved was out here, waiting for her to feel my presence and invite me into the sweet feeling of her bosom? I have to see her!"

But when he got up again, convinced that their eyes would meet in one beautiful, meaningful moment that would warm their souls until they melt together into a river of love, he only found the curtains staring back at him. The only thing that kept him from screaming in despair was the very real possibility of being found out. But as he bit his knuckles in an attempt to hide his crushing disappointment, he remembered the alternative that he, like any respectable stalker, had set should such a situation arise.

The laptop that had been safely put away inside his backpack flared to life in a matter of seconds and a few presses and taps were all it took for the website to open; a sleazy, filthy site where a particular embodiment of lust and sin enjoyed showing his body to the hungry masses, practically begging casual perverts who would forever remain anonymous to toy with his body in unspeakable ways. One such show was on right now and this man was naked, riding atop a thick, monstrous dildo, moaning in delight as his black hands held it in place and the layer of sweat that covered his heaving caramel pecs shone in the light of his own screen. Mort couldn't help the stir in his pants, but there were more pressing matters at the moment and with a few more clicks here and there his transaction was complete.

"Wha..." the man on the screen stopped, dazed beyond belief, as he saw the end result on his own side. His eyes showed just a bit of disappointment, but he still breathed in to calm himself enough to speak to his audience. "Seems like someone paid full price for a solo session. S-Sorry, guys, next week it is."

As he meekly said as much, Mort saw the comment section burst with hatred towards this 'mystery buyer' in rather colorful words that more often than not involved shoving things up his bottom; quite ironic, once you consider this was essentially a gay voyeur site, but Mort stopped paying them attention when he noticed the incoming call on the corner of the screen. A quick click was all it took for the screen to go full on the man, still naked and staring right at the camera on his own side.

"H-Hi. So, what exactly... Mort?"

"Hey! Shroud! My man, how's it hanging?" a quick glance at the lower part of the screen was all the answer he needed. "It's hanging pretty low, from what I can see."

"W-W-What are you doing!? Oh my God!" the young demon screamed in a much higher pitch than the dildo still lodged up his hole could ever manage to accomplish and the darkness around his arms started swirling in a state much like the panic he was showing when he tried his best to cover the ample chest and the generous endowment, both to little avail.

"Seriously? Just two minutes ago you were showing all of that on screen for money," Mort's words simply served to make him blush harder, to the point that the skull-faced demon had to wonder how there was enough blood left in him for his length to remain upright. But there were far more pressing matters than poor Shroud's nudity. "Anyway, forget that! I need you to do me a favor; just call me from your phone, put it on your front pock-

"No! I'm not stalking my sister for you again!" he yelled hard enough that Mort wondered if the soundproofing around his bedroom would be enough to keep his family from hearing him. A quick glance at the still covered wisdom eased him, but he would've been willing to blow his cover if it allowed him one more look at his beautiful angel of death. Only Shroud's words got him out of his infatuated trance. "Last time I did, she found out and she cursed all my food for a week! She's scary when she gets mad!"

"Come on, man! I paid! And how can a man your size be scared of his sister?" Shroud's whimpering only made Mort sigh in frustration. But just as he was about to go through the arduous work of once again convincing the massive manchild on his screen, a crescent-shaped object on the base of his branch caught his attention. He had no more time to react as said branch was cleanly cut off the sturdy tree trunk and for the immediate second only a rather high-pitched scream left his throat until he painfully crashed against the ground, surrounded by the leaves that until a moment ago had been his cover. And to top things off, just as he was about to get up with a groan, a jet black blade pressed against his throat.

"Didn't I tell you to stay away from my daughter, you creep?" the scythe's wielder, a large black demon with a skull-like face much like Mort's own, managed to deliver with enough anger filtering through his tired voice. Of course, this wasn't the first time Mort had the pleasure of meeting with his future betrothed's father, Dez, his future father-in-law one might say, nor was this the first time their relationship hit a rough spot accompanied by sharp-edged objects in the proximity of the younger demon's flesh, so by now he had an idea of how to handle the situation.

"Dez! Sir! So glad to see you tonight. I was just..." 'admiring the delicately crafted, infernally beautiful gift that you and your wife had managed to bring into an otherwise empty world' seemed like the appropriate thing to say, but perhaps a parent would react differently. Either way, it didn't matter as long as he got to the important bit. "I was passing by and saw this bird that had fallen off its nest, so I helped it back up. But enough about me; how are you, sir? Hitting the bench press, it seems, am I right?"

"I..." Dez immediately blushed and started mumbling nonsensically until the weapon in his hands broke up into several wisps of black smoke, freeing Mort from any danger. The older demon loved playing big, strong dad, but after so many escapades to have a chance of looking at Lily, he had already figured out ways to ease him up; namely, stroking his ego just enough to fluster the anger away. Then again, the older man's chest was indeed rather prominent and elegantly framed by the bright pink, open bathrobe he had clearly put on in a rush when hearing about him, so it's not like the stroke was at all undeserved. In fact, a couple inches below and Mort couldn't help but wonder, somewhere on the back of his head, if what was inside those shorts was also prominent. "Hey! Eyes up here! No, wait, you're supposed to like my daughter! No, wait, you're not supposed to like my daughter!"

"If I may intercede, sir, I do like your daughter," Mort's words where originally meant to try and ease the older demon's worries, but instead of that all he got was a very rough hand grabbing him by the horn and dragging him across the house's front lawn without any concern for him, or his clothes for that matter. "Ow! Ow! Watch out, old man! Those are sensitive!" but his words fell on deaf ears and by the time they reached the fence Dez proved, not for the first time, he was a full-fledged reaper demon by tossing his unwanted guest all the way across the street onto the other sidewalk, where he fell flat on his face. When Mort finally gathered the strength to look up from the concrete, he saw him looking back from the house's door, still fuming and, strangely enough, still blushing.

"And don't come back again!" he yelled and slammed the door shut, and that was the last the younger demon saw of him that night.

"Shitty old man," Mort mumbled as he sat up, rubbing his face, his neck and shoulder- everything was starting to hurt, actually, so he figured he might as well give up for the night and head home. The darkness was starting to gain more terrain as it was, meaning that he wasn't about to have that much visibility anyway. But just then, precisely due to all that darkness, a flicker of light caught his attention and he found himself looking back at the same window that got him into this whole mess in the first place, where his angel of hell, his beautiful snake of Eden, Lily, looked down at him from her room. Oh, how her visage was enough to heal his weary bones and his bruised skin, but then his eyes landed just a couple inches lower, to something held between her slender white fingers that made him look in realization. "Is that... my 'Haunter of the Dark' limited edition t-shirt signed by Nyarlathotep de Lovecraft himself? I've been looking for that for months! So it was in your hands all this time, dear?"

And just as he finished saying this, Lily's slender fingers pulled and with apparently no effort more than the strength of her own hate, tore the shirt apart in half right in front of Mort's eyes. The sweet, innocent smile didn't leave her lips for even one second. Mort, on the other hand, went so pale that even his face turned whiter and fainted on the street just as the target of his feelings shut the curtains behind her. Perhaps for the better, as she didn't have to see Mort tremble and squirm as he rolled around, his hands rubbing all over his body as his back arched in excitement.

"Ah... sweet rejection... Lily, my darling, your hatred hurts. Your hate prickles the deepest parts of my heart and makes me feel so sunken and so alive at the same time! How I yearn for the time you hurt me some more. Shoot all your anger right through my chest, like Cupid's raven black arrow," and so he fell back on the street, his breathing rushed, his heart beating at such speed he could barely contain himself from screaming at the top of his lungs how much he desired her. "I miss her... Damn old man, keeping me away from her. All I want is for our love to flourish like the pure black lotus it is."

He sighed, however, resigned. What few hints of light remained in the house all disappeared and every room was sunk in complete darkness. He was now alone in the night, with nothing but his own unresolved feelings keeping him safe from the biting cold of his own solitude. But of course, like any stalker that respected himself, he wouldn't let this one incident keep him down for too long! He had made mistakes before and had taken measures to correct them, so it was par for the course to do the same now.

His first mistake had been trusting Shroud with a task as important as providing him a visual. Even if the poor demon really had the balls to help Mort look at his sister, the very fact that he even left his room to begin with would've been more than enough for anyone in the household to realize something was off. He remembered as much from what little time he managed to convince him of dating him; how had he been enticed by the idea of having full, inconspicuous access to his love's home, all for a chance to let his eyes rest upon her, whether it be for a whole day in the living room or a single fleeting moment as they walked past each other in the hallway. But of course, plans never go through, and what he had envisioned as a free pass to the one person that made his heart flutter ended up as days of isolation as the younger demon hastily shoved him into his room and the two just stayed together in the darkness, away from the rest of the family and the one that Mort was truly interested on.

It wasn't all bad, though. Even if he barely, if ever, got any chance to look at Lily, her brother did provide an enjoyable distraction. Shroud had skills in bed that men far older than him would've killed to possess, and the one time Mort's mind managed to break away from thought of Lily was when he was enjoying those skills himself. Everything, from his impressive stamina to the amount of sheer punishment he could take was more than enough compensation for being unable to reach his goal, and then some. All in all, they were memories he treasured, if not with one head then certainly with the other. It had to end, of course, once he realized he was only letting it go on for the sex; it wasn't fair for Shroud otherwise. He was a stalker, not an ass.

But then was that wretched geezer of a father. No matter what, whenever Mort had a chance of getting even remotely close to her, Dez showed up and like the insurmountable wall he seemingly claimed to be, managed to push him back all the way to square one. Sure, he had found ways of dealing with him, but that only managed to work until the point where the demon wouldn't call the cops; no amount of sucking up would ever be enough to convince him of ignoring his actions and simply let him keep a close eye on his daughter's life. He continued to be the greatest obstacle in the way, no matter how much he tried to go around him; even back when he was dating Shroud he never took his eyes off him.

"Dating...?" Mort thought... Dating Shroud and Lily's dad were perhaps the two things he remembered the most when dealing with this whole situation. Dating... "Oh!"

An idea popped up into Mort's head. One so simply logical that he wondered how it had never crossed his mind before; so genius of him that he immediately stood up, confident of his skill and his cleverness. Confident enough to burst out in laughter, certain of his success and-

"Shut up!" one of the neighbors yelled as they threw a shoe at Mort's head and after regaining his balance it occurred to the demon that maybe, just maybe, it was a good idea to go back to his own place instead of dawdling around in hell so late at night.

---

The morning after was definitely quieter, but then again, it was particularly difficult to top a night when your daughter's stalker started making a fuss right in your garden; seriously, who wouldn't hear the guy? He spent half the night almost screaming impromptu sonnets at the window, thinking himself the ultimate stealth bat, as if he was actually hidden in the shadows or anything. Pathetic, utterly pathetic... But he was certainly poetic, that had to be said.

Overall, Dez had a calm morning for what had definitely been an eventful evening, and of course he couldn't be more grateful for that. Even more, it was one of those rare days when the planets aligned in such a way that his day off perfectly matched with both his children busy schedules, meaning he had the house all for his own. The things he would've done in his youth! But right now all he wanted was to kick down and relax, read a book, watch some of those embarrassing movies that his kids would otherwise forbid him from, watching porn at full volume, even! No need to be ashamed of whatever he felt like doing.

And just as he was starting to wind down, the doorbell rang. These damn suburban neighbors and their ill timing, but such was life. Therefore, with the best smile he could put up, he headed for the door, ready to politely reject whatever invitation anyone had for him... Unless it was from one of those cute single moms, of course. Or dads, really.

"Good morning, sir!" was the greeting he got once he opened the door, from none other than the very same stalker he had dealt with the night before, standing nonchalantly in his porch, in what he could only call his 'coaching clothes'; the reason he noticed those clothes, however, was mainly because his eyes had almost immediately wandered down to the massive chest and arms, all of them exposed and enticingly outlined by the fabric tightly hugged to them. He had to consciously stop himself from going further down, to those equally tight shorts he knew hid very little of his thighs, and focus on the face, the one punchable part of the man's body. "I was just passing by and I thought I might as well take a moment to come over to come and say hi!"

The speed with which Dez's scythe ended up, one more time, against Mort's neck, was something that had to be seen, but the younger demon was far more preoccupied with his own life in the situation. Wearing more revealing clothes and flexing in all the right spots while talking to the man was definitely the one thing keeping him alive right now.

"Too early for your crap, kid," Dez said in a very tired, yet very anger-containing tone and Mort decided it was best to keep from telling him it was 11:00. "Get out of here before I call the cops for real."

"Ok, ok! I'll admit it, I'm here for you!" the old man's eyes popped open in surprise at that and a slight blush settled on his face, but his expression remained stern otherwise. Mort knew it would take some more than that to get him to open up. "Well, as you probably remember, I'm a spirit counselor. I help them scare and haunt and all that stuff to get better packages when riding the Styx," he refrained from mentioning this also meant he could see Lily while working, and how she served as the one solace in the bleakness of his most boring days. "And you know, I've really come to notice that, most of the time, it's basically just a confidence issue. They just really need to believe in themselves, and working out definitely helps with that, so my job also includes some professional trainer bits."

"Yes Mort, we get it, you're wearing shorts," Dez was starting to get impatient with the younger man; admittedly, the only reason he hadn't kicked him out was because he was actually talking about his job in a way that made it interesting. Other than the part where he was stalking his daughter, he was actually a pretty cool guy, but you know, he was stalking his daughter. "What the hell does any of this have to do with me?"

"You probably remember when I came around last night," the edge of the scythe pressing harder against his throat was all the answer he needed. "A-And you probably remember when I mentioned you were looking good! Which you still are, by the way! That's why I'm here! I was hoping you could give me some pointers regarding your workout routine and stuff!"

"Wait, what?" the scythe once again vanished, partially because of the sudden fluster its owner felt at being complimented on his hard-attained physique, but also out of confusion. "Let me get this straight, you want me to give _you_tips about working out?"

"Oh, don't get me wrong, I'm aware I'm thick. I mean, look at these bad boys!" with that he pushed a sudden flex that made his arms bulge out and his chest almost burst out of his tank top, the fabric barely managing to hide his nipples, and Dez's blush turned a deeper shade of red. All according to the plan, of course. "But anyone can get this size in their 20s, you know? It takes some actual effort to get to your age and still remain as... well, as attractive! No point on going around it," his face only continued to get redder with Mort's words and it turned to the point of no return when he stepped forward and his hand reached inside his bathrobe and started gently tracing the cleft between his pecs, outlining the round muscles with that shivering touch of his. "Seriously, look at these things. A lot of men your age would die trying to get a body like yours; a lot of them did, actually! So you know, it would make my job a lot easier if you helped me get them this... again, attractive."

"I... You... Well... Um... Well, I-I suppose I could give you a, um..." it was certainly not an easy task to focus while his personal space was so cheekily invaded and a rather rough hand reached inside the privacy of his clothes to molest him, but he did nothing to stop it because, if he was being honest, it felt far better than it had any right to. "...a couple tips here and there. It's a, ehem, a stressful j-job and those guys need the help, so... Yeah!" he finally stepped back when he felt an actual huff coming up and realized it would be unsightly to let his daughter's stalker see that; he had to remember that's who he was dealing with and not let himself be fooled by his tricks. He couldn't allow himself to fall right on his greasy, surprisingly skilled fingers. "Feel free to come on in..."

Mort did as he was told mainly because, for the split second he got a look at the older man's face before he turned around, he could properly see the arousal that had started setting on his eyes, somewhere behind the slowly crumbling anger; no, if anything, it was just grumpiness by now, nothing he couldn't deal with. The way he closed back his bathrobe was also cute, all things considered, and it got a light chuckle out of the younger demon that surprised even him. He shook it off, however, and followed Dez into the kitchen.

Once in, he was quick to seat down on the spot right next to Lily's usual one on the counter, and his mind was suddenly filled with the blissful images of his sweet angel of death sitting beside him, sharing a single plate together. What a perfect image, what a picture of unbridled love and affection that was! The simple thought of being touched by her fingers would make any fruit sweeter, any meat juicier! If only-

"Here you go," he was pulled out of his daydreaming when a glass full of orange juice was set in front of him, and quickly looking up he saw the old man stepping back into the kitchen, opening cabinets and looking for who knew what. The important thing here was that he had the nerve to break his mental picture, the old bastard! How would he know once again the beauty of those slender white fingers reaching for his lips, if his inspiration had been cut short!? And almost as if to keep mocking him, Dez's words continued. "So, my routine... Well, I start with a morning jog, nothing out of the-

At this point Mort stopped listening to him. Like hell he gave a damn about his geezer workout! He had bigger things to focus on, after all! Keep your mind on the goal, he thought. All he needed was a couple nods to pretend he was paying attention while Dez prattled on, a couple compliments thrown around here and there, and before he knew it he would have a permanent pass into the house, perfect for more than a few glances of his beloved angel of death. All he had to do was take his time, along with a few sips of the orange juice. In fact, the first one went down.

...

Mort had to do a double take for a moment. It was... surprisingly sweet. It actually got him distracted for a second, barely able to listen to the older demon talking. Somehow he caught himself with the tiniest of smiles at it, but immediately stopped and looked back up, trying to convince himself that the sudden heat on his face wasn't what he knew it was. Luckily, Dez still had his back to him, still looking for something that by now he wasn't bound to find anywhere, meaning he had seen none of Mort's strange reactions. That was reassuring, but looking at the older man, he started noticing certain other things, like how he was gently leaning forward in such a way that accentuated the curve of his back, down to a pair of surprisingly round buttocks that he was only noticing for the first time. His routine seemingly had a lot more merit than he first thought.

Immediately after thinking that, Mort shook himself off. That was certainly _not_what he was here for... technically! He had to stay on track, convince the older man... One more look at the glass gave him and idea and, once he made sure Dez was still looking away, the glass of juice 'accidentally' fell on the table.

"Oh! Oh, shit!" Mort let out with his best possible acting, getting his host's attention immediately. The end result of his plan was a shirt soaked in juice tightly clinging to his muscles, all while the rest of the juice fell off the counter. The truly important part, however, was how the old demon had seemingly stopped in his tracks to stare at the soaked shirt, once again, according to the plan Mort had to use all of his willpower not to grin at the simplicity. "Shit, I'm so sorry, sir! Let me clean this right up!"

"Wha- Oh, no! No! Let me, I'll... Yeah, I'll do it!" he had to admit the way he was tripping with his words was endearing, but the plan had to keep going.

"Man, this is pretty damn sticky. You don't mind if I take this off, right? It's all guys here, after all," the moment he said that he saw Dez, towels in hand, once again stop as the fabric slowly peeled off his black skin, exposing his powerfully defined abs and pecs, flexing them just a little bit more than usual to make sure the older demon would stare more than necessary. "Man, I liked this shirt."

"..." it took around a minute or so for Dez's brain to reconnect and properly decipher the sounds that had come out of his guest's mouth. "Ah! I can, you know, throw it in the washer! Yeah! Let me do that!"

"Are you sure, sir?" Mort said, mixing in his subtle flexing with the most innocently helpless look his otherwise rough features could pull off. "I don't want to impose in you or anything."

"Just give me the damn thing!" the old man screamed, growing a deeper shade of crimson by the second, until his frustration-riddled fingers simply snatched the shirt off its owner's grasp and in exchange threw the towel right on his face. "You clean up this mess while I'm at it!"

By the time he got the cloth off his eyes, Mort could only catch a glimpse of the enraged, flustered geezer's back as he hastily left the room, and could barely keep down his laughter. Had he known it would be so easy to seduce the old man, he would've skipped Shroud altogether in the first place. Ah, Lilith! His beautiful swamp lily. You would soon be brought together to join in a banquet of darkness that would celebrate your love.

...'Swamp lily' was definitely not his best verse, though. Man, poetry was hard. No matter what happened, the need to find new words the more he used his older ones was straining, and he was certainly not going to fetch a dictionary just to come up with ways of referring to Lily's skin or whatever. It was nice, but it wasn't anything so extraordinary that it deserved a different term every paragraph. So why did he like Lily again?

...

Man, he made a mess! He should wipe it off quick, before Dez came back, or his entire plan would go down the gutter! Netting the dad's ass so he could get to the pretty girl, that was the goal, right? That was the only thing that mattered. Right?

"Alright, it should take a couple minutes," he heard the older man say from the other side of the counter when he was kneeling down to wipe the juice off the floor. When he got up, Dez had his back to him again, but he figured it was a deliberate action on his part this time. Weak as he was, he was experienced enough to know when to look away from something tempting, so there needed to be a bit of a final push next.

"It feels weird, don't you think? Being in another man's house shirtless," he said it with the most casual tone possible, but there was no way anyone could've fell for it anyway. Dez, of course, caught on to it and just from his stance it was easy to tell that whatever doubt he had regarding what was going on right in his own kitchen had vanished. For Mort, that was also good. "Oh, I've done it before! Whenever I'm, you know, 'seeing' another dude, obviously. But then there's this unspoken equality going on, so there's no problem! Right now, when I'm in this sort of helpless position in front of a strong authority figure like you, sir, I can't help but feel a bit conscious," Mort walked around the counter and he could feel in the air how the older man's tension grew with every step he took closer to him, how his breathing rushed and he started to swallow harder. Hell, if he focused he could even feel the blood actually rushing through Dez's veins, all going to that one spot all men know so intimately about (or was the young demon feeling his own blood doing that without knowing?). And once he reached him, once their bodies were so close together that he let his breath fall on the older man's neck, his lips almost kissing the ebony skin, and his hands rubbing his shoulders in a slow, deliberate way meant to peel the fabric off his body, he said "What I mean is, I would feel a lot comfortable if you weren't wearing anything either."

"Stop that!" Dez yelled as he turned around and slapped the younger hands away, eyes wide open and face like a tomato. Despite all that, he still tried to put up an image of intimidation, chest puffed out and all, but he wasn't getting anywhere near that. "This is inappropriate! You're my daughter's..." of course he stopped, and despite his best attempts Mort couldn't keep a single 'pfft' from leaving his mouth. That only singed Dez further. "You're my son's ex! You shouldn't be doing these things with me, of all people!"

"Then," Mort stepped forward and their chests where only a mere inch apart from rubbing against one another, "why aren't you stopping me?" and with that, his lips, only a hair's breadth separating them from the older man's, parted to let his tongue out and lick along the outline of Dez's mouth, sending exquisite shivers down the demon's spine. His eyes rolled upwards and let himself fall back on the cabinets while a pair of skilled hands invaded the confines of his clothes, gently kneading his muscular body, his chest, his abs, each new area they easily conquered opening more and more of his bathrobe, the bright pink fabric contrasting with his coal-colored skin in such a way that it only made Mort grow hungrier. As his hands carefully reached his hips and the fabric finished opening up, however, Dez's eyes shot open as well.

"Wait, stop! I'm not wearing-

But it was too late, and by the time both sides of the robe opened completely, while the older demon's teeth clenched in complete and utter embarrassment, Mort took a single look down and thought to himself how this couldn't be any easier.

"My, oh my, you're definitely Shroud's dad," he said as his finger slowly, yet far from gently, trailed a single vein, starting from the very base and all through the rather outstanding length of Dez's shaft, stiff as a mast and standing just as one from between his legs, released from the constraining clothes that until just a moment ago had been imprisoning it. The elder demon's only reaction was gasping at the touch, what little willpower he had to still oppose Mort focusing on keeping his moans down; but even that was slowly crumbling away the closer that cruel digit got to his head. "I wonder..." his words got Dez's attention, and rather than staring at his length under his grasp, he was looking straight into his eyes again. "I wonder if you have the same particular tastes as he does."

Dez audibly swallowed. Everyone in their family (and who knew how many other people outside of it) knew what Shroud's tastes were, and he also knew that he definitely shared a lot of those with his son. Mort apparently knew as well, as when his finger finally reached the pulsing, expectant tip, his first reaction was to push on it with his thumb until its owner's hands tightly clenched the cabinets behind him; but just as tightly were his lips shut. An enjoyable challenge, all things considered; one that Mort more than eagerly took, squeezing the entire length in his hand just to see the man squirm, but to no avail. Even going down, tugging hard on his hanging sac, the most he got were tighter lips and an impressive amount of veins popping up on his neck due to strain, but not a single whimper. The smile on Mort's own face quickly wiped away and he sighed in resignation.

"You wanna play hard to get, old man?" he sighed. "Fine. Be my guest. Just keep in mind that I don't do this just for any guy."

The meaning behind those words escaped Dez until Mort took a step back and carefully leaned down, dropping on one, then both knees until he was face to face with the rod in question, the object he had clearly come to get in the first place. Certainly, he didn't seem like the type to do 'that', so Dez couldn't help but wonder what exactly he was planning on doing with him. The uncertainty only served to make him shiver with anxiety. That's why, after the unbearably long second he only stared at his hardened cock, the moment Mort actually reached forward and gave one long lick from base to tip, his defenses proved meaningless in front of the surprise and he let out a just slightly high-pitched whimper, which slowly turned into a low moan when as a pair of lips parted to make way for his tip, gently suckling on it, just loudly enough for the sound to reach his ear and make his length twitch.

Contrary to his expectations, Mort was incredibly skilled, and took his time kissing and sucking down the length, his tongue occasionally poking out to trail along a warm vein on his way up. There was nothing out of the ordinary, just pure ability and hunger, enough to make Dez lose the tension that had been building up in his shoulders; as if feeling as much, that was the exact moment Mort reached up and in one swift gulp took half of the ebony rod in his mouth, making his in-law gasp one more time. The kid was full of surprises, Dez had to admit as much, but each one of them, each little shock he got, was a step edging closer to the climax he desperately tried to hold back (and he would deny it for the rest of his life) to not look too eager in front of him.

Lost as he was in the warmth of Mort's mouth, he quickly lost track of time. How long had he been pleasured by those experienced lips? How long had he been staring at those luminous green eyes, hoping he would stand up and take things a couple steps further? He tried berating himself for thinking about such things regarding a man young enough to be his own son, but right then Mort reached down and playfully nibbled on his balls, pushing away any worry, any thought really, that he may have had as his body slowly crumbled into a messy pile of need.

And precisely just as he started craving for more, his impromptu young lover stood up, staring back at him with a wicked grin that his tongue seductively cleaned of any trace of pre that might have been left. Dez could consciously tell he should be worried, that he should probably tell the demon to leave, but his body was in too much bliss to obey his commands and he could no longer defend as their lips joined and he was forcefully pushed into a rough kiss that only served to heat him up even more. He was thankful when Mort's hand, kneading his chest just as expertly as his lips had treated his loins, finished taking the robe off his shoulders, leaving it forgotten on the floor and Dez's body completely exposed to the gentle morning chill in the kitchen, but he knew just as well that there was no way back now. He was under the man's control, and a single look at him told him that Mort was just as aware.

"Easy now," were his words as his hands went down and up Dez's thick, powerful arms, back to that prominent chest that he so sensually pressed on the way up until those strong fingers were softly settled around his neck. He tensed up momentarily, but his worries dissipated as he felt the familiar flow of energy from the younger hands currently controlling him, seeping from every pore on Mort's skin, shaping itself until it tightly hugged the flesh with the equally familiar sensation of leather against his body. Dez realized he had been missing the feeling, and he intended to reach up to have a proper look at his new collar, but before he could even as much as move his arms, a second strap of leather formed from the tip of Mort's fingers, connected to the collar, until he took hold of the other end. Only now did the older demon realize the deeply rich black of the leash was as dark as the skin of its creator, who sported the same wicked, knowing grin he had been giving him all morning.

A single tug was all it took for the demon to step forward, just as Mort step backwards until leaning back on the kitchen counter; yet he kept pulling harder until Dez tripped forward, his body once again pressed against his younger partner's prominent pecs. His own breathing only grew heavier and faster the longer he stayed in contact with such exquisite musculature, and it only flustered him further in comparison to how easy Mort's seemed to be, his chest rising slowly with each intake, but enough for him to feel it go up; of course, it didn't help in the least.

Mort's free hand left the counter and instead chose to focus on the older man's hip, slowly going up, getting a feel of every muscle in its way until reaching the blushing face. He had to admit it was endearing, in its own way, and there was something exhilarating about conquering a man this old and powerful. With the same hand that had been cupping his cheek, he gently pushed Dez's face towards him and kissed him again, this time quietly, but just as enthusiastically as the first time. The older demon had no choice but to surrender to the taste of his lips and shudder from the way the same sweet hand that had been caressing his face was now rolling down his body, groping every inch of flesh it could get until it reached his ass and took a generous handful of his buttock. The feeling made Dez whimper in the kiss and got a good laugh out of Mort, whose hand let go of the leash to pull down his shorts and let out his own strained length, pressed now against the older man's own between their abs. He broke the kiss just long enough for his in-law to swallow at both, the sight and the feeling of his hot rod, before another tug got his chin to land on top of the younger man's pecs.

"Time to return the favor, old man," he grinned and Dez's eyes trailed down his chest and abs until they reached the jet black flesh jutting out from his crotch. It was enticing, admittedly enough, and he already could feel the heat coming out of it, the way it was violently pulsing with life; he would be lying if he said he wasn't enthralled by the idea. So without much flare, the older demon kneeled down in front of his guest and followed his example, taking in the leaking head and playfully lapping at the slit while taking his time with the next inch, sucking on his way down. He heard Mort grunt in response and quickly glanced up, but the younger man's chest blocked part of his view ('something good on its own, mind you,' he thought) leaving him in curiosity, but the following sounds that came out of him made him confident he was doing a good job as it was.

Younger people, however, as every father would know, always want things handed to them fast, and Mort was no different. His hand reached the back of his host's head, at first only rubbing for encouragement, but in a matter of moments he impatiently started pushing, wanting more of his dick swallowed, more of that warmth and moisture around it. The feeling wasn't new for Dez and he simply kept going down, inch after inch pushing through until the tip brushed against the back of his throat. Mort looked down once he felt as much, but got barely any reaction from the older man, who continued to take in his rod until his lips kissed the skin of his crotch. By this point, he was already breathing harder than he was used to and could feel his legs grow weaker from the sensations that coursed from the entirety of his length and all through his body. When exactly he had grabbed the counter with both hands, he wasn't sure, lost as he was on the older man's skills, but he was sure it was the only thing keeping him standing.

From there on, however, it only got harder, as Dez decided to pull out and back all the way up in a single go, a process he repeated several times until he got a proper pace, bobbing all the way back up and all the way back down. How he could do it so suddenly, so fast, so easily- God, it was impressive! Mort was at a loss, at moments unable to properly focus on his own thoughts and only see the images flash in his head; he could only focus on the blur that constantly obscured his cock and made him tremble in excitement. He was too distracted to even hear his own grunts and moans, but Dez was perfectly aware of them and was clearly enjoying them; even more than the hot taste of his rod or the musky scent that emanated from his nuts, Mort's excited cries not only encouraged but excited the demon.

In the middle of the haze, Mort could barely notice things, but a couple did jump at him enough for him to tell. The first was that, all through this endeavor, his hips had remained in place, meaning that there was no humping, no input on his part; it was all Dez, sucking him with far more expertise than he could ever even hope to muster. The second was the churning sensation in his balls, telling him of his coming orgasm. He couldn't finish just yet, not with his plans still in place, and not so soon in front of the old man; more than anything, the idea of giving him such a victory bothered him. So with all the willpower he had left he managed to let go of the counter and took the demon's head, stopping him and pushing him off his cock.

"Jesus fuck, old man..." he breathed out, exhausted, and finally let go of what little strength he had left, slipping down until he sat on the kitchen floor, eye level to the same man he had so clearly underestimated. A grave miscalculation on his part. "That was ridiculously good."

"You don't get to be my age without learning a few tricks," Dez chuckled and stretched, his own tongue cleaning his lips just like Mort's had a few moments ago. While not as sensual, it still did a number on the weakened Mort, who felt his own dick shake at the sight, and a quick look down showed it glistening in drool and pre, standing almost like literal steel and oozing like crazy.

"What the fuck is this man?" he thought before looking back at Dez. "I won't get to be your age if you keep this up. You're far more dangerous than I thought," and with that he leaned forward until their lips were, once again, only a mere inch apart, his hands going down the demon's strongly built arms... until he used a belt much like the leash to tie them together behind his back. When Dez realized his new position, he jumped out of the daze Mort's proximity had caused him, and a quick glance was enough to tell the welling worry. "I gotta take my steps with you, old man. Can't let too many risks slip through. Besides, don't act like this is your first leash."

"Wha- No! I mean, I-I-I..." he tried his best to form coherent sentences, but Mort's words had struck enough of a cord that all he could do was blush and look away as he stumbled on them.

"My lord, you really are just like Shroud!" the young demon laughed and covered his face on Dez's shoulder to muffle it out, kissing and nibbling on his way to the older man's neck. The second he did, his entire body shivered and Mort took the chance to pull himself closer, hugging him tightly to feel the way his skin and muscles reacted as his hands aimlessly wandered through him. "What's with the men on this family driving me nuts like this?"

"Mmm... W-What about Lily...?"

"Who?"

...

It took a couple of seconds for Mort to realize the weight of what he had just said, but the moment he did he could actually feel the ice through his veins causing him to freeze. Lily, his precious flower, had managed to slip his mind for just a moment. In fact, he had been ignoring her for quite a while now. Oh, how could he call himself worthy of... Of, um...

Annoying. In the end, having to constantly spout poetry inside his head only for his own self-gratification was nothing short of obnoxious and exhausting, even if it was all in Lily's name. To begin with, what was the point if no one but him would ever listen to his words? Besides, it's not like he needed pretty words to properly express his feelings for her, right? His love for Lily burned hot enough to reach her without needing excessive lyrics like the ones he was now so used to spouting about her... But if that was the case, then how come he couldn't think of her in any other way? He claimed to think of her, yet here he was, forgetting about her when faced with a feeble, brief distraction from his time. What was he even here for to begin with?

"Mort...?"

That voice stung like a thousand needles on his heart, yet at the same time electrified him. Such a distraction was, after all, exactly what he needed; to drown himself in the intoxicating essence of such an example of masculinity. To properly feel every crevice of his powerful arms, his broad shoulders, his muscular back, progressively going lower and lower; to forego his inhibitions and bite that exquisitely thick, tender neck, and taste his flesh along with the symphony that were the pained screams hiding begging moans behind them. Such a distraction...

Slowly, the young demon lied back on the floor, never letting go of the older man on top of him, never splitting their bodies; always making sure his skin remained in contact with the prominent chest as it grew more agitated. His hands, constantly going lower, each touch and rub growing hungrier, finally reached his buttocks; such delectable plumpness dripping between his fingers with every squeeze, tempting him with every bounce, until he could feel the old demon writhe on top of him, his lips clenched shut to hold back the moan that had undoubtedly demanded to go out into the world and make it known that he wanted the heat coursing through his body to be treated, as if the stiff rod pressing against his stomach wasn't enough evidence.

"S-Stop..."

"I keep telling you, old man, if you wanted me to stop, you would've stopped me a long time ago. Stop fooling yourself and admit how bad you want it," those words kept getting at all the right places, as Dez's expressions very visibly showed; he was so easy to read that Mort had to make a very conscious effort not to laugh it off in his face. And just as that very same face seemed to reach its limit, the younger demon reached lower, taking his sweet time to enjoy the thick thighs, the powerful calves, until the tips of his fingers first brushed against the ankles. The same dark mass spreading from them into leather bands that slowly got connected by a bright metal rod forming itself into existence, getting inches in until his feet started spreading apart from the length. Dez's face contorted into one of anticipation, and something that tried to be fear but failed miserably by looking too much like desire; but most of all, he kept his eyes averted from Mort's increasingly smug grin. "Beg me for it," he finally said just as his hands went back up and his fingers relentlessly teased the now exposed pucker until the moan finally left the demon's lips in a short gasp.

"You're w-way out of line right now... punk."

"Mmm? Is that so?" he replied not just with that, but with movements smooth enough that, without Dez actually realizing much of it, he slipped his own length back down and rubbed it between the spread out cheeks, his tip pressing against the hole and his pre smearing all over it. Both of them bit their lower lips, again in anticipation, but just one look into their eyes was enough to tell who was in charge and who was, right now, letting out short whimpers of delight. "Your face is definitely telling a different story, old man."

"Fucker..." Mort couldn't help but chuckle at the irony of such an attempt at insulting him and it only made Dez grow hotter in shame. "This is... a very inappropriate position for a spreader bar, by the way."

"Of course you would know that, wouldn't you?" again that dripping cockhead pressed against his hole, pushing dangerously, sending jolts through his body that lengthened his screams of enjoyment. "Now, use your words properly."

"Asshole..." Dez whimpered, his breathing growing shallow as he finally locked eyes with the younger man again. "Do it already, fuck... I need it... I really do need it..."

"Holy shit, you actually begged! I didn't think that would work!" Mort, unable to contain his laughter anymore, saw as the older man frowned and looked away, and inwardly noted how, despite his apparently rising irritation, he still did nothing to even get on top of the situation. A bottom through and through; like father, like son. "I guess daddy must really want my dick."

"Don't call me that!"

"Haha! Oh my God!" practically tearing by now, he had to take a moment to calm down, let the mirth die out on its own in short bursts, all in front of the reddening face of his impromptu lover. He regained control to push Dez up just enough to get a proper look at his chest, grabbing him by the hips and enjoying the way it made him jump in the slightest, most excitedly adorable way possible. Every movement- every way he found he had to make him react -was like that and he found himself rubbing the demon's sides to see if he could get him to do more. It was strangely embarrassing, and he looked away for just a moment. "You know, old man, you're not so bad yourself."

Dez looked down in curiosity, but before he could get a look at the stalker he felt his hole starting to spread from the engorged tip invading it, and whatever he was thinking before was immediately replaced by the burning sensation that made him scream more in surprise than anything. Inch by inch the hot rod made its way in, pushed by Mort's subtle hip thrusts, forcing the walls of flesh around it out of the way; and every inch made the old man whimper as he clenched his teeth, desperate to keep quiet, to keep the image of self-control intact. But around half the way, a grin flashed on Mort's face and he rammed the remaining in one go, forcing yet another scream out of the man, which ended with him collapsing on top of his chest.

"Mmm, not quite as tight," was Mort's assessment of the situation, which made the man on top of him blush even harder than before, if such a thing was even possible at this point.

"Shut up!"

"I'm pulling your leg, old man. Fuck, it feels nice," a low moan and a pair of hands groping the plump cheeks was all the confirmation he needed to give Dez, and the way he squirmed around it he knew his ass was adjusting to the length faster than he would ever admit. "But you still have to accept that it really isn't the tightest."

"Didn't I tell you to shut up?" he replied, but his voice was getting noticeably calmer. "I'd like to see how yours is."

"A bit looser than it should, but you still take the prize on that department."

The old man's expression was priceless and Mort took mental note of how easy it was to surprise him. A quick, harsh spank and once again he saw that face transform, from one of shocked fluster to one of whimpering desire, and he started wondering how many more he could have Dez do. With that in mind he slowly pushed out, watching his eyes widen in realization, before ramming his cock all the way back in, getting another shocked scream much like the previous one. Before he knew it, Mort had already started a pace and the old man over him was taking the full brunt.

It was delightful. To watch those factions constantly change from his relentless hammering, going from pain to pleasure in a measly second with each rough thrust, was surprisingly blissful. For a moment his mind drifted to Shroud, who would scream and moan and silently beg for more just like his father was right now, but rather than the blank slate that was his face, to be properly able of seeing Dez's contorting was a completely different experience; every new expression made his balls churn and his seed started to rise.

Ah, but it was far too soon. His ramming slowed down, the pace receding into a more leisure, tender one that got longer moans in response, and Mort watched as those eyes started showing relief. He gently pushed his cock out of Dez, a sigh of relief escaping his lips, and chuckled as he laid down on top of his heaving chest, his length pushing between those widespread cheeks, always rubbing against his pucker in the most teasing fashion. The old man purred, out of all things, at the sensation and Mort had to use all his willpower to keep from going at it again too soon; other than occasional short bursts of quick humping, he managed to keep his speed down, all for the sake of helping the old man relax.

And just when he was sure Dez had calmed down, he reached down and rammed all the way in his ass again, hilting him in a single, swift thrust that made him jump and scream in delight as all his spots were hit at once. In a matter of seconds, they had returned to their previous pace and Dez had to clench his teeth, whimpering from the way his hole was again invaded, filled all the way down, as his walls constantly hugged the ebony rod pushing through. It was such an exquisite feeling, not even Mort could keep his voice down any longer and his own loud moans filled the kitchen, somehow prompting him to speed up and push as deep as his dick would go, his voice soon drowned out by the wet sounds caused by his own humping.

For just a moment his cock came out and a fountain of pre oozing from the tip smeared all over Dez's hole and cheeks, droplets rolling down his thighs in such a way that it made him tremble. Mort sighed at his reaction and coated his fingers in the fluid before pushing back inside, his thrusts remaining as roughly erratic as before, while his hand reached up and gently prodded the older man's lips.

"How badly does daddy want my seed, huh?" he asked, but without anything for an answer Dez simply opened up and started suckling on his fingers, moaning through them as his tongue set them apart inside his mouth. Mort was taken aback, but the sight quickly proved too much to care and he simply enjoyed it, taking his time to have yet another look at the plump pecs, the marked abs, going all the way down until his eyes settled on the dripping length squeezed between them, coating his own stomach with pre. "What do we have here?"

His hand came out, the older man trying to go back at it, but stopping when he saw its new target. Those thick, strong fingers firmly grasped his dick and he tensed up for a second before they started squeezing and stroking, going from fast to slow, always pushing him to the edge and taking him back right before his climax. The damn kid was even more skillful and cunning than he appeared at first, as Dez realized with his own body.

"Say that you-

"I want you to fill me up," the older demon expertly predicted his words, his own hips having already joined the pace; taking his cock and feeling his own go down his hand with each movement. Their eyes locked for just a second before Dez looked away, blushing. "I really... want your seed inside me."

"Fucking old man! How can you say that with a straight face!?" Mort grinned, but he also looked away until the demon's moans forced him to turn back. There was something about his face that shook the younger man; that unnerved him while simultaneously putting him at ease. Until he actually took a proper look at him, he couldn't put his finger on what it was, even though it seemed so evident now.

Through all the torture his body had been submitted to, Dez was smiling. Right there, on the corner of his lips, the tiniest hints of pleased smiling as he screamed in delight. Mort's own grin immediately dropped, even his pace slowed down, as he stared at such a ridiculously wholesome, yet erotic expression. The urge to speak up, to say something bubbled from within his being, but he couldn't think of anything; for the first time in longer than he could remember, the poet in him was at a loss for words. And more by instinct than anything, he decided to let his body speak for him.

His grasp became firmer, aiming the glistening head slightly upwards while his thumb pushed against the slit, rubbing until Dez started trembling. His thrusts, still as slow, became more forceful, turning into pronounced humps that made the older man jump ever so slightly every time their flesh loudly clashed. His breathing grew shallower and his chest, still seductively looming over Mort's, coated in a shiny layer of sweat, heaved with every intake of air; yet his thirst, far from being quenched, only seemed to grow with every second he stared at such magnificent masculinity. Giving in to that thirst, he leaned forward until his teeth closed around that plump chest, sucking on the man's tit until his whimpers and screams reached his ears, and only a surprisingly mirthful chuckle left his lips.

He couldn't- No. He no longer wanted to hold back. And so, with one last push from his powerful hips and an approving churn from his balls, he let go and a his hot load shot far inside Dez's ass, filling every inch and forcing long drawn, irregular moans out of him. His own followed through, his defenses broken from Mort's impressive skills, and his own cock still in those expert fingers burst out with an equally impressive load that landed on top of the younger man's chest, each warm rope landing heavily enough for the heat to spread through him as well. It was nothing short of impressive, and it was more than enough to make Mort fall back on the floor, once again admiring the sight of the older man barely able to contain his breadth as his seed left his body while new one filled him up.

"Fuck..." Mort sighed, panting. Every binding he had summoned slowly vanished, and victim to his own tiredness, Dez fell forward. Only a pair of strong hands on his chest stopped him before he landed on him, his eyes seemingly drowsy from the exertion, but he still managed to register his surroundings enough to hold his own weight above the horned demon with his now released arms. "You seem tired, geezer. Not like anyone would blame you," Mort joked, one hand squeezing one of his butt cheeks until his own dick twitched from the movement. "Not even Shroud could hold my whole load like this, are you telling me this old man is a bigger slut than he is? That's... pretty fucking hot, actually."

"You know," the voice got his attention and he looked at the same old slut he had been thinking of staring at him with a tired smile that he had no choice but to find endearing, "my ex has horns too. So does Lucy, now that I think about it. They're such cute things, horns," and with that his hands reached forward and started rubbing up the length of Mort's ebony horns.

"Hey, hey! I told you, those... are..." he couldn't say much more as his brain was filled with new hormones. Instead, the only thing that left his throat was deep, curiously manly purring. The tender touch spread through his body, turned into a different kind of warmth than sex could provide. Before he knew it, he was already nuzzling the older man's neck, leaving a couple of nibbles each time he trailed from the base to the point. When those did stop, however, it only took him a few seconds to fall back and hold said hands still. "Don't... do that."

They looked at each other in confusion for a few seconds before Mort, with surprising speed and even more astounding gentleness, pulled out of the older man and let him down on the floor. Part of him want so much to take a look at that widespread ass dripping his seed, wondering just how long he could hold it in, but the part of him that felt the long forgotten post-coitus shame was stronger. He tried standing up, but his shaky legs almost made him lose his footing, making him realize the actual intensity of his orgasm; but still, with one hand safely on top of the counter, he finally stood straight and started scanning the kitchen for his shorts.

"I'm leaving," was all he said when he finally found them, watching as Dez sat up from his own position while he put them on.

"Already?" the older man sounded somewhat disappointed. "And looking like that?"

"Damn right looking like this! The world should be thanking me for going out shirtless and showing off this thick build! I'm giving out free fanservice and it's one hell of it!"

"No, I mean..." he stopped uncomfortably and could only gesture at Mort's chest, prompting him to look down at the thick, still warm coat of cum clinging to his pecs and abs.

"...Yes, like this! It's a great snack to go on the way!" and as if to make his point stand, he took what seemed like a spoonful off and swallowed it in one go. "Fuck, this actually tastes great! What the shit is this man? What's with all these dads just being hot!?"

"I don't get why you're in a rush all of a sudden," the other demon stood up far more gracefully than Mort had done so before and stepped up just close enough to rest a hand on his shoulder. "Your shirt's not gonna be ready for a long while anyway. Why don't you go take a shower? In fact, I'll lend you one of my own if you want and we can go have brunch or something."

Supposedly, Mort had come over to try and gain terrain with the old man in order to improve his stalking chances. How exactly their roles had switched, or why the stalking part was taking second place in his list of priorities all of a sudden, were things that more or less escaped him, but he didn't feel like shooting the offer down so soon.

"You know, to talk about you and Lily and stuff," Dez clarified, convincing the younger reaper that he could read his mind.

"Actually... I think I'm gonna drop off the Lily thing," he said, shocking both, Dez and himself. "Like... where's that headed anyway? Besides, she tore my favorite shirt last night. You just don't do that to a dude, that's nasty."

"That's... sudden. Where did that come from?"

Where indeed. Years of stalking thrown down the drain just like that, as if they didn't mean anything, and for what? One hook up with an annoying, stupidly strong old man, his sweet, plump ass, his massive muscles and his goofy smile?

"Well! A lot of things just suddenly happened! Right now I'm interested in... different things," he turned around to keep his face from telling too much, even though somewhere on the back of his mind he knew there was no need for it to say more. "Since I'm not getting anything out of my current experience, I might as well experiment with other things, right? I mean, before today I was convinced I had pretty much done everything and everyone already. Also, for what is worth, I'm not one to say no to free food, if you still wanna go for that brunch."

"Oh, I could definitely go for that," Dez said, taking Mort's distraction as an opportunity to show off his own wicked grin, convinced that the kid's outburst gave him the perfect chance to actually get the dominant role if he played his cards carefully. "Then I'll take you to the guest bathroom and-

"Guest bathroom?" in a matter of a second, the older was pinned against the kitchen's wall and the still shirtless, still imposing frame of his body stood over him, as if he could ever not be the dominant one. "We can save a lot of water if we shower together. Or don't you care about the environment, old man."

---

The doorbell echoed through the house and the one to pick it up was, as usual, the one reading in the living room, the only area of the house other than her room with proper lighting. Not like opening the door was a particular bother, but rather the end result of doing so, that being, having her stalker in front of her, nonchalantly waiting at the door with his obnoxious smug face and practically reeking of sick, perverse intentions, was the one thing that threatened to sour her day. And yet, Lily greeted him with a smile; otherwise she would tear him open with her scythe.

And that's bad.

"Mort," she started, ready to instead destroy him with her words. "I see you have-

"Is your dad home?"

"Huh?" for the first time, Lily's smile faltered. And then a loud ruckus came from the second floor and a second later her dad crashed down the stairs.

"Mort!" was the first thing Dez said when he sloppily stood up. The very unamusing demon, still waiting on the door, could only stare in disbelief. "Oh, Lil! Didn't I mention? Mort came the other day, he needed help with his job and asked me for a few pointers. He's actually a pretty nice guy, all things considered."

"Right... Here's the shirt you lent me the other day." The young demon said, holding forward the pale pink button shirt in his hand.

"Oh, right! Yours is, um... u-upstairs in my bedroom. We can go look it up, see if you have any other, um... questions and stuff."

"Jesus, old man! If you're that thirsty at least be subtle about it!" Mort yelled as he carefully went around Lilith and let himself in.

"I-I-I-I-I am being subtle! You're the once screaming it out loud! I mean- No, what, no!" he stuttered while his green, um... 'acquaintance' went up the stairs and out of his daughter's view. A daughter he suddenly felt the need to explain things to. "He didn't mean... It's entirely prof... We're just friends...?" and before it could somehow get more awkward, he escaped up the stairs as well.

Lily watched all of this with a dumbfounded, neutral expression, seemingly shut down until her gargantuan brother left the kitchen and walked down next to her, seemingly concerned by her empty eyes and her lack of response to any form of input.

"Are you ok?"

"I think... I think dad and my stalker are dating now...? And I don't know how to feel about it."

"Well, doesn't that mean he'll stop stalking you?"

"I wish them a lifetime of happiness <3"

"Stop saying 'less than three' all the time, it's not cute anymore."