Zac shuddered. Even with his guts cramping like he had swallowed a live lobster, he couldn't help but find March's rage incredibly hot.
"You'll have to bend me over and force it out of me," Zac tried to sound defiant, though it came out more breathless than he intended. "Tie me up... choke me... spank me... kiss me on the mouth... whatever you do to me, I'm not gonna rat on Halphas!"
Zac slammed his hands over his mouth, his eyes wide above his fingers. Oops.
Marchosias's eyes narrowed into slits of amber fury. "That flying rat," he growled, the vibration resonating through Zac's chest.
"Uh, I mean-" Zac sputtered, squirming in the Captain's iron grip. "Ha ha! I got you! You see? Torture never works! I just said the name of the guy who obviously didn't do it, and you totally believed me! Classic reverse psychology!"
"Do you think I was born yesterday, Avatar?" Marchosias growled as he began to stalk down the hall with renewed, murderous purpose.
"Of course not," Zac said, batting his eyelashes. "I'm into daddies. Born yesterday is way too young."
"THAT'S NOT WHAT I-" Marchosias stopped himself, squeezing his eyes shut and taking a deep, centering breath that rattled his armor. "If they break the rules and I do not admonish them, how will they understand that I will annihilate them for this insubordination?"
Zac pouted, crossing his arms over his churning stomach. "Rules are made to be broken."
"And that is why there are so many demons," Marchosias said softly. His voice had lost its commanding edge, replaced by something hollow and uncomfortable.
Zac looked up, surprised by the sudden shift in tone. "Oh, demons are rule breakers?."
"Yes," Marchosias grumbled, his gaze fixed on the middle distance.
"So if there was, like, a really important rule... a demon would be extra sure that it was broken?" Zac pressed, sensing an opening.
"Probably."
"Like a rule that was passed down from a higher power? Maybe to do, or not to do, something to someone?"
Marchosias's pace slowed. His grip on Zac loosened slightly, his amber eyes clouding over as if he were seeing something far away… something bright and glorious that he had lost a long time ago.
"Like the 'no fucking the virgin' rule!" Zac shouted triumphantly. "You can't get mad at them for how they were made! Demons break rules! It's in all of your natures!"
"NOT IN MINE!"
Marchosias snapped, dropping Zac abruptly. The human hit the floor with a grunt. The wolf loomed over him, a towering monolith of rage and self-loathing.
"All of these demons are disgusting, used tampons clogging the sewers of reality, and I will not be associated with them!"
"Whaaaaa?" Zac questioned, staring up at the furious wolfman. 'I haven't been yelled at like this since that time in high school history,' he thought dizzily. 'Welp, at least I know why I'm getting a boner this time.'
"They have no self-control!" Marchosias cut him off, his voice rising. "They have no fucking idea how to control their urges, and it's sickening!" He leaned down, his scarred muzzle inches from Zac's face, his breath hot and angry. "Just because you are a virgin means nothing to me. Your body, your scent... they are just more tests. Tests that will prove that I am worthy."
Zac's brain tried to process the sheer gymnastics of the Captain's statement. Worthy of fucking me? That's some circular logic. Like, 'I must prove I am good enough to not eat the cookie by staring at the cookie until the cookie goes bad'? Zac's smile lasted for all of three seconds.
"I will not fuck you now, and I will not fuck you when this farce of a punishment is finally over," the wolf growled, straightening up and adjusting his cuffs with sharp, angry jerks. "Just because Ose tossed a virgin soul to us does not mean you are truly pure. You are in Hell, which means you are just as reprehensible as the rest of those animals. You're broken and broken things are never the same even when they are fixed. It is my mission to make sure that you-"
Sob.
It was a wet, choked sound. A sound of genuine heartbreak that echoed softly in the stone corridor.
Marchosias froze mid-rant. The haze of righteous fury that had clouded his amber eyes evaporated instantly, replaced by a look of sheer, ice-cold panic. He whipped his head around, scanning the shadows.
Zac, craning his neck from his position on the floor, saw it too. Just at the edge of the intersecting hallway, a long, midnight-blue tail whipped around the corner and vanished. It was moving fast, the speed of a creature trying desperately to hide its tears.
"Bune?" Marchosias whispered, the color draining from his face. He looked down at Zac, then back at the empty hallway, his ears flattening against his skull.
"BUNE!"
Marchosias scrambled, his boots skidding on the stone as he launched himself down the corridor. "WAIT! I DIDN'T MEAN THAT! I WAS TRYING TO TEACH THE AVATAR A LESSON! BUNE!"
Zac watched the Captain disappear around the corner, listening to the heavy footsteps fade into the distance.
"I have no idea what that was about," Zac wheezed, clutching his churning stomach, "but..."
He lay back on the plush hallway rug, staring up at the flickering torches. The pain in his gut was still sharp, a rhythmic reminder of his hubris, but his mind, ever the coping mechanism, began to drift. The sounds of the castle faded, replaced by the imaginary hiss of tires on wet pavement.
It was raining, Zac thought, his eyes fluttering shut. Pouring rain in the city. Bune, wearing a trench coat over his butler uniform, was trying to board a Greyhound bus, clutching a single suitcase with all four hands.
Marchosias would appear out of the mist, running alongside the moving bus, his wet fur plastered to his chest. "STOP! STOP THE BUS!" he would howl.
The bus would screech to a halt. March would rip the accordion doors open with his bare hands, ignoring the driver's protests. "It will only take a minute!" he'd snarl, before his eyes desperately scanned the rows of seats.
And there he was. Bune, sitting in the very back near the toilet, trying to make himself look small, both heads turned toward the window.
March would storm down the aisle, dripping water on the linoleum. He would reach the back and fall to his knees, ignoring the gum on the floor. "Bune!" he would yell, his voice raw. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean it! You aren't disgusting! You complete me!"
Bune would refuse to look at him. "You have already pushed me away, Marchosias," the Left Head would whisper tragically. "Go back to your war."
"I push everyone away!" March would howl, grabbing Bune's hands. "Because I am afraid! But without you... I wouldn't be as hot! My outfits wouldn't be creased! My armor wouldn't shine! I need you to polish me, Bune! I need you!"
Slowly, Bune would turn. Tears would be streaming down both snouts. "You... you mean it?"
"Yes!" March would cry.
And then they would kiss. It would be a messy, complicated kiss involving three heads, but it would be beautiful. The entire bus… nuns, business people, rebellious teens… would stand up and begin to clap.
Zac smiled beatifically, rolling onto his side and curling into a ball around his pain.
The passengers were a bit less enthusiastic when March and Bune began ripping each other's clothes off right there in the aisle, but hey... love is messy.