After Caspian’s and his night of above average sex, Marty had felt the confidence that had fallen dismally after he tried and failed to get Kerr off. He immediately marched up to Kerr to end things and then tried to give some good demon advice to the Reverend. Sadly, the latter didn’t go so well as the first. The demon had clocked him square in the jaw and refused to believe the truth that was right in front of him. He was beginning to bruise and his face looked like he’d been in a boxing ring with Muhammad Ali.
So currently he was popping back a Vicodin he’d nicked from the medical tent and drowning it with a bottle of whiskey in the communal tent. He wouldn’t dare see the doctor, he could smell that angel from a mile away and it felt like he was being blinded anytime he even passed by the tent.
“Ohhh dannny boyyy…” he was singing into his glass, far too loud and horribly out of tune.
It was that off key drinking song that caught his attention. Irish, no doubt, but in the accent of someone who didn’t grate chalkboards. Except the tune itself was hard on the ears. He recognized the tone. With interest the blue eyed devil made his way cautiously to where the origin of the sound was.
“Alright?” Caspian called out to his friend. Lips twisted into an amused grin. “Don't quit your day job for singing —“ he’d quipped, cut off when he saw the bruising on Marty’s skin.
Eyes widened. “Bloody hell, what happened?” His friend had a big mouth and sassy personality, it didn’t surprise him that Marty had been fighting but it was never easy knowing someone you cared for was injured. Even if they did probably deserve it.
Even when he first heard the voice call out to him he didn’t recognize it. It wasn’t until he saw the blue of those eyes walk toward him. Concerned.
“Well, this is how it were. I went over to the good Reverend to offer him some advice on how to deal with being what he is and it turns out that he wasn’t having any of it. He’s in bloody denial he is.” Who knew if news had gotten to Caspian’s ears about what was said in the church tent fire, but Marty wasn’t trying to blow his cover yet. People tended to trust you more if they didn’t know you were a demon.
He looked at Caspian gratefully and eyed him up and down. A few bruises wasn’t going to stop Marty from being Marty so his instinct was to pounce. “Might I say, look good enough to eat and I know because I’ve done it.” He quirked an eyebrow and smirked, causing him to wince at the bruise on his face. After so many years he’d need a lot more Vicodin to not feel any pain.
“And you made a right mess of yourself in the process,” Caspian quipped. He nearly felt sorry for the man, that seemed like one heck of a beating. “That swelling ain’t doing nothing to compliment you, love. Let’s take care of it. Come on, then.” A wave of his hand, and he took a step backward.
He’d heard a bit of the going’s on around the carnival - what happened in the tent, the accusations, that the Reverend Will was a demon. But why that surprised anyone being in a place that boasted supernatural presence, he wasn’t quite sure.
“You can get a better look later after you let me take care of that bruise.”
Another smirk, another wince and he was standing up to follow Caspian to where he could be cared for. Hospitals didn’t bother Marty, the only reason he avoided medical attention there was because he couldn’t stand being around angels. “Honestly this isn’t the worst that’s happened to me. I got shot in the shoulder in the 1970’s and it took years for it to properly heal.” Demons were immune to disease but they healed from injuries just like anyone else.
“But I’m glad I get a hot nurse this time.” He offered a wink and then another wince. Damn this bloody bruise, it still smarted.
“Oy,” Caspian sighed, rolling his eyes, “Not even the bloke who clocked you could shut you up.” It was said with amusement.
Cas led Marty toward the supplies tent. A few coolers they’d gotten in twenty twenty were there, filled with cold ice. He got some and put it into a ziploc bag, then set the bag gently against the side of Marty’s face. “There. That’ll help with the swelling, at least. You’ll be right as rain in no time.”
As he felt the ice pack on his face he felt some relief from the burning that was there before. He smiled this time, not a smirk but a smile and patted Caspian’s upper arm. “You’d be the only one in this place to not actively despise me at the moment.” He admitted, but he lived off of that sort of the thing. The only ones who usually liked him were the criminals and that was the kind of company he liked to keep.
“Thank you.” He made himself say and he actually meant it. Marty would have fun corrupting this ones’ soul since it seemed to be an honorable one. He kept his hand on Caspian’s upper arm, pressing his fingers into the material of his shirt.
“How could I resist your charm?” He quipped, holding the ice pack against Marty’s face. It was an odd thing about the other man, that charisma. When he was around, Cas found it hard not to engage. “What are friends for, love?” Helping someone would wipe a bit of red from his book, anyway.
And when those two words came he felt them. Caspian nodded. “You’re welcome. You’ve helped me plenty, why not return the favor?” He didn’t mind the touch, either.
He suppose he did help Caspian but he hurt others in the process so it was all in a days work for a demon. “Can I tell you something, you promise you won’t be frightened?” That was a hard question to ask and frankly Marty didn’t care if he scared anyone but he did need at least one ally in this god forsaken place.
His hand crawled up to rest at the nape of Caspian’s neck, gently playing with the hairs there. There was something intimate with the way Cas was taking care of him, it was something he wasn’t quite used to. At least he wasn’t used to the kind of care he enjoyed. He’d kept plenty of people on hooks only to throw them out later.
“‘Course,” Caspian replied. By now he thought he’d seen everything. What was one more secret?
Once in a while the bag would move, shift to apply another section of ice gently. “I was in a bad fight once,” he offered. “Three blokes my Da decided not to pay approached me. Had a terrible time fighting them off. One of them got a good hit on my jaw, I thought I’d broken it. But I’ve always been a bit of a scrapper.” He didn’t mind those fingers in his hair, only set on caring for his friend.
“I’m a demon. Or that’s what it’s called anyway. It’s not like I came up from hell or anything, just sort of woke up without any memory.” It was another demon who’d called him out on it and Marty eventually hunted him down because that’s what he was, a hunter.
“Just like our dear Reverend.” He said, gesturing to the bruise on his face that was currently being held together by an ice pack. He shrugged his shoulders a bit and looked at Cas. He could play this role well, the anti-hero. “So you’re probably safer staying as far away from me as you can.” Normally when he said that it was a warning but his tone indicated self-deprecation.
“Wait, wot?” He pulled the pack of ice backward but didn’t linger, before pressing it gently back against the bruised and swelling. “So, if I’m hearing you correctly, you’re...evil then? Or what’s your story?” Demons by human folklore were bad, evil. Spawns of hell. Caspian was no Saint but this was a first.
“Ah. So the Reverend got fresh with you, didn’t he? Did you deserve this one?” The last question was posed with a bit of amusement.
“What is it you want?” This time his look turned serious. “Do you want me to be afraid? To stay away? Clearly you're shit in a fight.”
Marty wasn’t shit in a fight because a fight wasn’t what he was after with the Reverend but he chuckled at the remark anyway. “Honestly, I just want to curl up in your arms and sleep for hours.” He replied, regarding Cas directly into his eyes. “I just know I’m not like to get the things that I want, you know?” That wasn’t entirely true but a few things had gone the opposite way of how he wanted it recently.
“Suppose we all are evil in our own ways, but it’s in our nature, can’t help our nature can we? The Reverend ‘tests’ people’s sins and I…” he thought about how to word this so it didn’t sound as monstrous as it was. “...well I procure different sorts of creatures.” Hunted, he hunted them.
“Are you supposed to scare me?” That was the next question that came out before he was ready to utter it. “Cause you don’t. Even now.” Cas shook his head gently. “It’s much like, to me, we are all fish. Some of them have larger teeth than others, but at the end of the day we all swim in the same pond.”
“Procure creatures? What’s that, then?” He didn’t yet acknowledge the first bit about sleeping together, still chock full of inquiries and things he needed to settle his mind.
“I don’t want to scare you, it’s just, well other people hear the words ‘demon’ and they tend to be frightened. That red headed girl heard her man was one and burnt down an entire tent. Bit of an extreme reaction if you ask me.” It wasn’t, it was the reaction he’d been hoping for yet it all proved not to be fruitful as the Reverend was still alive.
The next part he tread carefully on. Honesty was the best tool in manipulation he found. “I...hunt. I’m a hunter.”
“I hear she’s the religious type,” he replied. He wasn’t spiritual in the sense that he attended the church tent services. A lot of the people at the Carnival did but he supposed he’d lost his own way long ago. “And I don’t see myself with Angel wings, if you get my drift.”
“Whatever the lady had going on is between her and the Reverend. It’s no business of ours and if anyone wants to crack on her about it I think she can handle herself.” If she started a tent fire then he had no doubt she was powerful.
He recalled a redhead he’d met who looked a bit down and he wondered if it was the same woman. The chances were slim.
“A hunter of what? These people?” His free hand lifted, a finger waving in a circle before his hand dropped.
He shook his head at that but only slightly because he didn’t want to move the ice pack on his face. “No, not people. Creatures.” The supernatural type, the weres, the vamps, the ones who weren’t quite human, at least not anymore. “It’s an urge, it’s unstoppable, it’s just who I am.” He could tell that none of this was sitting well for Cas and maybe he’d just lost his one friend here.
Who needed them anyway, friends? If he left this place he wouldn’t need a friend in the world, because then he could kill which is what he was desperate to do.
“People are still people, love. Even if they have something that sets them apart from blokes like me. They got feelings and memories, regrets. I am not telling you what to do with your time, I’ve taken advantage of a lot of people, but it isn’t your choice to believe they aren’t the same as everyone else at their core.” Lucas wasn’t a creature. He was a person, same as anyone. And they deserved no less than anyone else.
“Fine then, these people.” He corrected since that’s what Caspian wanted him to say anyway. “Do you condemn a lion because he hunts the doe? No, because it’s their nature.” And the same applied to Marty, he was only a creature of his most basic instincts.
“I don’t have anything against them, at least not them as a group, it’s just what I’m programmed to do.” He was getting bloody tired of defending himself to people, especially when all he was trying to tell was the truth.
“Are you a lion, then? I found you more of a man, but I suppose we could correlate with the Animal Kingdom if you so choose.” A shrug. Another turn of the ice pack. “And lions hunt gazelle, love. Not doe. Doe are forest animals. You shoot bucks with guns, lions prowl the Savannah.”
“Look,” he sighed. “I am nobody to judge anyone. All I’m saying is they have feelings. Whether you think so or not. And while you may believe differently, some of these creatures didn’t have a choice.”
“So you’re not scared then, of me?” He asked Caspian, moving his hand from his neck down to his waist, stepping closer to the other man. They were alone here, not that it mattered to Marty but for Caspian’s sake. He wasn’t speaking anymore, just bringing Caspian closer to him. “I can admit they are people, I only go after the bad ones, yeah?” That wasn’t entirely true but there were quite a few of them.
“Why would I be scared?”
His head tipped. Hand was still raised, holding the bag of ice against Marty’s face. “I’m not the most pure chap, if we are counting marks.” He hadn’t killed anyone but he’d swindled plenty. And the idea that the other man was shifting closer had his heart picking up a bit.
“Yeh. If you can change just like that.” His eyebrow arched.
He wasn’t even regarding much of what Cas was saying at this point, feeling the flutter of his own heartbeat quickening. He grabbed Caspian’s hand on the ice pack and took it off his face, gently placing down next to them. “Do you think you could still like me with a face like this?” He finally said softly. He probably didn’t look great at the moment but the charm usually worked just as well for him.
His other hand wound around the other man’s hips and pulled him flush against Marty.
“That’s the question, isn’t it?”
The heat over his hand was enough to compromise the ice. “Do you think you can like me?” That was the biggest one. Someone like Marty could pretend and then all of the time wasted would be for naught. He wasn’t interested in that. “Be honest. I can tell if you’re lying.”
Liking someone wasn’t a problem for Marty, it was the idea of love. While some demons could find some semblance of it, it was never how regular people saw it. “I already do like you, a lot.” He admitted, pressing a hand to Caspian’s cheek.
“I thought that were obvious by now.” The hand on his cheek moved to the back of Caspian’s head. Just a subtle hint but one he thought was pretty clear.
He wasn’t expecting much. Some grew attached, some didn’t. He wasn’t new to the supernatural realm. “You know what I mean,” came the reply. He could see the signs, those not so subtle hints and he felt drawn to them.
They were already so close, barely a breath between them to be had.
“Honestly I don’t, I’m really trying hard to understand but you’re not giving me much to go off of.” He replied, letting them stay back away from each other just a little bit.
“I like being around you and fucking you…” he raised a playful eyebrow. “and I’m not totally incapable of being in a relationship if that’s what you’re getting at.” It was rare, few and far between but Marty had a few relationships in his time. Usually they were people just as bad as he was, perhaps a little bit better if he were totally honest.
The thing he didn’t say was that love wasn’t a feeling he felt, except for when he was killing but Caspian hadn’t mentioned that yet, thankfully.
That ice pack would be pulled back slightly, shifted around and set back gently on Marty’s skin. He listened, nodding at the words. “Who doesn’t like those things?” Amusement flooded into his voice but he looked satisfied with the answer received.
He craved confidence. Men who knew what they wanted and how to get them. It was a trait he needed in a partner - decisive, on point, aggressive yet considerate. Marty was all of these things, or at least he had been so far.
“That’s good to know. I can handle that.”
“Good.” He said with a soft smile, grabbing the ice pack from Caspian’s hand and tossing it aside again. He pulled Caspian close to him now, feeling the ache in his jaw subside. Either the painkillers had kicked in, the ice pack had done its job or just keeping his mind off of it and more on Caspian was working for him.
He leaned in close to Caspian, speaking softly in his ear. “Promise this beautiful face will be right as rain in no time.” He teased and then pulled back just enough to press his lips against Caspian’s.
There was still so much more to know about Caspian, if he really was the type of man Marty would consider being in a relationship with but so far all the signals pointed to a man who could handle someone like Marty. Time would only tell.
As the ice pack was taken, tossed aside, his lips pulled into a smirk. He turned to watch the trajectory but turned back to the other man before seeing where the bag of mostly liquid landed. Sliding forward without much prompting, his now free arm wound around Marty.
He leaned into the kiss, returning it. So much about the other man was refreshing and reassuring. Especially considering they both seemed to have a bit of darkness in their pasts that could put pressure or undue stress on someone without that experience.
It stung a little bit still in his jaw but he wouldn’t stop this for all the pain in the world. Caspian was pliant beneath his touch and warm in his arms. That was enough to take his mind off of any minor pains he was feeling. Maybe it was the Vicodin or the whiskey but even those weren’t enough to quell the pain of a man who’d done every drug in the world multiple times. Caspian seemed to be his only relief.
As the kiss slowly ended he looked into those piercing blue eyes and spoke softly. “I were serious about being curled up in your arms tonight. Care to cuddle up in my tent for the evening?” He was pretty sure the answer was yes and it would be upsetting if it weren’t. People weren’t as cuddly when they were forced into it.