They were enveloped in the glow of the Christmas tree, curled up next to each other on Drew’s sofa. Drew had wrapped himself in a blanket, both drinking fresh mugs of hot chocolate. It was a calming, peaceful moment, and Artem wished he could stay in it forever. Time, however, was running out, and he would have to find a way to disappear into the night to meet with Cyril. What, he wondered, would Drew think of him once he left? Would Drew spare even a brief thought of the demon who popped into his life during the holiday season? Or would he be all too happy to wash his hands of Artem?
As if in answer to his silent question, Drew took hold of Artem’s hand, and again he felt that odd flutter in his chest. Stronger this time. For a time they sat in silence, holding hands, Drew running his thumb in little circles over the back of Artem’s hand. It sent a chill up his arm in a pleasant fashion.
“What you did today, it was amazing,” Drew broke the silence. “You’re a hero.”
Diving into the frigid water to rescue the very same little girl who checked on his wellbeing, it was a small thing. Impulse, odd as it seemed to his addled mind. What might one of his brothers or sisters have done? Artem knew, refusing to even acknowledge the truth. The water had been surprisingly clear and finding her easy. As soon as he broke the surface with her there was cheers and applause, prompting him to smile and for heat to flood his cheeks; which made him worry about further damaging the ice. The little girl was whisked away in an ambulance, her mother giving him a hug before she climbed in to be with her baby.
From there to the apartment was a haze.
Now it was dark and time was running out.
By now Artem knew corrupting Drew’s soul was out of the question. He would face Cyril, claim to have failed in locating a clean soul, and take his punishment, whatever it may be.
“I’m proud of you.”
“Thanks.” His cheeks flushed again.
A yawn broke free, Drew stretching his arms toward the ceiling. When it passed, he turned his gaze to the tree. “You know, all things considered, I’m glad our paths crossed, Artem. This year…” He shook his head. “I lost my way, my Christmas spirit had fled me as I spent so much time thinking about all the negative things happening in my life. A run of bad luck.
“And then I stumbled on you. I know the time we’ve spent together is miniscule in the grand scheme of things, but I’m glad for these two days.” He took a sip of his hot chocolate. “Tomorrow is Christmas Day and I look forward to spending it with you.”
Artem felt a stab of pain. Come tomorrow he would be long gone.
“However, I want to give you a gift tonight.”
“A gift?” Artem’s eyebrows shot up. No one had ever given him a gift before.
That was the moment Drew kissed him, the touch of his lips on Artem’s feathery soft. It was like having his internal fire stoked, heat flooding his body. He struggled to keep it in check for fear of burning Drew, then realized that as much as he enjoyed the taste of this man, their kiss needed to end. Their intimate contact was a sure fire way of tainting the bluish-white light swirling around Drew.
Oh…
It was hard for Artem to push Drew away, melting against him instead, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. The kiss deepened, spurred by a hunger for more. Drew’s hand on his thigh was electric, the otherwise innocent touch stirring embers of lust in Artem. If they crossed this line Drew’s soul belonged to him for all eternity.
Reluctantly, Artem pushed Drew back, licking his slightly swollen lips, eager to savor every trace of Drew left behind on them.
“I…”
“We…should talk.” What if he told Drew the truth, the real reason he was in the park that night? It would hurt him, but then again, maybe that was the way to go. Artem shifted his gaze. Did he really want to do this, did he want to take the wonderful moment they just shared and tarnish it forever?
“About?”
“Forget it. Let’s talk tomorrow. You look tired.”
“It has been quite a day.” Drew left a kiss on his cheek, patting his leg. “Make sure you get some rest. If demons do that. Santa only comes when everyone is sleeping.”
“Just a little longer,” he lied.
“Good night, Artem, sweet dreams.”
“Good night, Drew,” he said, adding in a whisper as Drew rounded the corner toward his bedroom, “And goodbye.”
Artem sat alone in misery, waiting for Drew to drift off, and when he did, Artem stood. First he crossed to the evergreen, trailing his fingers along the wings of the angel ornament. Then he paused at the end of the hall, tears momentarily blurring his vision as he drank in the sight of a slumbering Drew.
Then he was out the door.