Heartless Demon

Heartless Demon

Illybrius was lonely. He skulked off to the Temple, as he had in the days of his true youth, hoping Maheone would be there to ease his pain. He stripped and curled up between his old friend's soft white sheets, reaching out for the golden body next to him.

He wrapped his arms around Maheone, breathing him in, loving him. The younger maharus's hands canvassed his friend's body with surprising gentleness, massaging, caressing.

Maheone, though aroused, was a bit irked at being rubbed and prodded at in the middle of the night. He rolled over, away from the contact, and stared at the ceiling, trying to get some sleep. A very familiar head decided that his chest was its pillow and burrowed in, friendly growls making themselves heard, love bites felt. Maheone was mentally and physically exhausted and didn't feel like being molested, even by his best friend. He pulled away again.

Illybrius had always acted with a sort of obnoxious, playful bravado as a youth. He'd changed a lot in the past year as his heart had softened, and he couldn't stop a pained whimper from escaping his lips. He reached for Maheone again, grabbed him and held him close.

Maheone wasn't certain how to react. Since when did Illybrius whimper? And why was Illybrius treating Maheone like his personal squeeze toy?

As if in answer, the demon maharus looked up at his friend balefully. "I thought you loved me," he gasped, clearly in emotional pain. "It's what you said when we last spoke." He shook his head as if trying to clear it. "But... you're a completely different person... with them... and here, I know... you're your old self. It's like you have a split personality," he complained, furiously nuzzling Maheone's chest and sounding as though he wanted to cry.

Maheone sighed. He had kept his friend at a distance.... then later showered him with affection. Truthfully, he did love Illybrius, but hardly knew how to act around him. He didn't want to cheapen their friendship with sexual expectancy, but he secretly desired Illybrius just as much as Illybrius desired him.

"I do love you," he said, "but I'm not one of your sex toys that you can play with every time you're vaguely horny."

Illybrius blinked up at Maheone, aghast. "I'm lonely," he choked out hoarsely. "You're my friend... I thought you'd... understand." His face contorted in a grimace as he attempted to express himself. Maheone said nothing.

Suddenly, the pain in Illybrius's face turned to something resembling fury. He grabbed Maheone's arms and pinned them at his sides, then climbed over him, claws digging into Maheone's soft flesh, fangs bared. Maheone cried out in pain and fear, struggling beneath Illybrius's grip.

Why? Why was Maheone resisting him like this? Illybrius released his quarry, and Maheone bolted. Illybrius seized a pillow and threw it after his friend, then sank back between the sheets, breathing hard. He let out a long cry of despair and heartache, half-hoping Maheone wouldn't hear it and half-praying that he would.

It was the humanity in the cry that made Maheone pause. He knew he'd badly hurt his friend, and felt somewhat guilty for it. On the other hand, he was unhappy with Illybrius for trying--

Another wail, louder than the first, broke through Maheone's thoughts, and he frowned. He was accustomed to Illybrius's falcon-shrieks and bear-growls, but never had he heard such a human wail of pain issue from his comrade's throat. It set Maheone's heart ill and told him his friend was too far gone to care what he sounded like.

He was right: When he arrived back at his bedroom, Maheone saw with horror that there was blood all over the sheets.

"Oh, Illybrius," he gasped. "You didn't try to cry ag--" He stopped short. The blood was coming not from Illybrius's eyes but from his chest. His claws were extended and his hands were glistening with blood. One the bed was the demon maharus's heart.

"No," whispered Maheone, silver-gray eyes wide in terror. "No. Illybrius... Illyriabriucce..."

At the sound of his formal name, Illybrius looked up. His gray-black eyes were blank, his face devoid of emotion.

"I was lonely," he explained, then gestured to his heart, which lay glistening on the bed. "It's yours. My heart has always been yours."

"W-why?" Maheone couldn't stop staring at the organ.

Illybrius misunderstood the question. "Comrade," he said, his guttural voice sounding somewhat hollow, "you were my first and best friend. You know me better than anybody. If you truly need to ask why I give you my heart, you're more of a fool than even I took you for."

Maheone ignored the jab. "Why... did you..." He gestured to the wound on Illybrius's chest. Illybrius touched the spot and healed himself in a way, connecting the broken vessels and sealing his flesh.

"To stop the pain, you imbecile," said he with unflinching coldness. "I wanted to hold you, nothing more. You distrust me. It was without reason." He shrugged, indicating that if Maheone was going to be so intent upon distrusting him, Illybrius would give him a good reason to do so.

Maheone sat on the bed, not minding the blood, and wrapped his arms tightly round Illybrius, sobbing. The now-heartless demon sat stiffly

Now he hugs me, he thought bitterly. Oh well. I'll take what I can get.