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Door to Hell

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When Dave had pestered him in the early hours of a lazy Sunday morning, rousing him from his well-earned weekend snoozing, John had been tempted to tell him to fuck off and return way later.

Following that, when Dave had told him to get ready for one hell of a date, John had actually decided he could forgive Dave for being too eager; Dave wasn't the most romantic person ever, but had sudden bouts of spontaneous acts that always resulted in adventurous, exciting dates.

As John was in love with the dork and loved adventures, he was always up for some of that.

John had then decided, while flying above the ocean towards some nation in Europe or whatever that he'd never even heard about, let alone knew existed (the name was Tur-something-stan, and for a moment John had wondered if Dave had been trying to take revenge for his last prank... but no, the place apparently existed for real), that Dave's bouts of spontaneity were sometimes a bit too much for him.

They didn’t really spent much flying –Dave’s time powers made the trip faster than it should have been, thankfully– but it took a lot of his energy, and by the time Dave directed him to land, he was feeling rather tired already.

He took it out on Dave with a few well-placed comments about his weight and how he should stop eating cheetos all the time, but the other teen barely seemed affected, far too busy checking their directions on a map to care about what John had to say.

John hoped their destination was going to be worth the long trip, the weight and Dave being so mysterious, because he was already regretting getting out of bed.

For some reason related to time-zones, when they managed to land it was already late in the evening.

Dave made John fly lower to the ground, and steadily ignored all of John’s questions about what the fuck was he planning and where the hell was civilization –because there was no city in sight, and it looked like they were in the middle of nowhere– and simply motioned him to continue southwards.

John had half a mind to drop him right then and there and watch him go splotch on the ground when the wind blowing in his face brought forth a raw, pungent smell, and he halted in mid-air, sniffing around.

Dave’s lips were curled in a pleased smirk, and John huffed, ignoring him as he tried to understand what the source of the smell was.

It was the smell of fire, but strong and burning, and john could feel the wind blowing heat against his skin, a pleasant change from the chilly air of the approaching night.

Dave motioned for them to continue, and John nodded, feeling his curiosity for whatever was ahead of them grow even stronger.

The more they advanced, floating in the air, the stronger the smell was, and the higher the temperatures turned; as he spun around, trying to contain his curiosity, John noticed something bright and glowing ahead of them, and forced his wind powers to make them fly faster.

At catching sight of what Dave had wanted him to see, John decided, utterly breathless, that maybe his boyfriend’s mysterious attitude wasn’t entirely unpleasant.

In front of them was a huge, gaping hole in the ground, burning bright and vivid against the darkness of the night, and John’s eyes widened as he saw the lava and liquid fires peek from inside the giant abyss.

The sight was utterly beautiful, and he quickly made his way to the edge of the chasm, feeling Dave follow him, until they were both standing as close as they could without feeling uncomfortable due to the heat.

“Dave, it’s… awesome!” grabbing his boyfriend’s hand in his own, excited and bouncy, John turned to the other teen and tugged him closer. “How did you know about this?!”

With a small shrug Dave glanced at the magma, and smirked a bit. “Research,” he replied.

“Stop being mysterious, you doofus!”

Dave’s smirk only widened as he leaned forwards, stealing a small kiss from John’s lips before motioning for the sea of molten lava in front of them.

“This is called the Door to Hell,” he explained.

door to hell

John peeked again into the burning hole, mesmerized by the heat and the vivid, almost too bright colours. The reds were making his skin glow, and as he glanced again at Dave, he could see him burning crimson, his clothes looking like they were on fire.

He gasped, breathless, and tugged Dave down by their joined fingers, using his free hand to slip the other teen’s shades off his face, revealing eyes that were burning even more than the waves of lava.

A sudden, strong need to kiss him washed through John’s body, his lips already parting to welcome Dave’s ones as he dragged his boyfriend close for a long, heated kiss.

When they pulled apart, panting, John nuzzled Dave’s neck and smiled up at him.

Dave straightened his back and licked his lips, already slightly swollen due to the kiss, and took a deep breath. “Per me si va ne la città dolente,” he murmured, the foreign language coming out weird with his heavy accent. “Per me si va ne l’etterno dolore, per me si va tra la perduta gente,” he looked at the sea of fire, then back at John. “Giustizia mosse il mio alto Fattore: fecemi la divina Potestate, la somma Sapienza e ‘l primo Amore. Dinanzi a me non fuor cose create se non etterne, e io etterno duro”.

He paused for a moment, tilting John’s face up and pressing another brief kiss on his parted lips, before continuing, in a whisper, the last part of his quote.

“Lasciate ogne speranza, voi ch’intrate”.

John blinked, vaguely dizzy and flushed and incredibly confused, and looked up at Dave when the taller teen didn’t make a move to explain what he’d just said.

“I didn’t know you knew Spanish,” he finally muttered.

Dave snorted, shoulders shaking in mirth, and quickly dissolved into chuckles, stepping away from John as he continued laughing, completely amused.

“John, you idiot, that’s Italian,” he finally answered between snorts.

John’s cheeks turned crimson, and he slapped Dave’s shoulders in annoyance. “Well yeah whatever, what does that mean?”

“That’s a quote. A famous Italian poet wrote a long Comedy about his imaginary trip to hell and back, and that’s what was written on Hell’s Door,” he pointed at the gaping, burning abyss in front of them. “Through me one goes into the town of woe, through me one goes into eternal pain, through me among the people that are lost,” he translated, still smirking. “Justice inspired my high exalted Maker; I was created by the Might divine, the highest Wisdom and the primal Love. Before me there was naught created, save eternal things, and I eternal last”.

Once again he paused, clearly building up the suspense, until John elbowed him in the ribs to get the last line.

“Jesus John, you’re always so impatient,” Dave teased him, smirk growing even larger. “. All hope abandon, ye that enter here,” he finally completed.

Licking his lips, John took a moment to think about what Dave had just stated, before he looked up at him with narrowed eyes. “How come you know this?”

“What, you don’t believe I have interest in old Italian literature? You wound me John. I will crumble and wither away, hurt by your tactless questions,” Dave dramatically brought one hand to his forehead.

John punched him in the shoulder.

“Stop the drama, and answer me before I hoist you up and test your resistance to heat by dropping you in there,” he threatened.

“You wouldn’t–”

John employed his best prankster smirk, and Dave rolled his eyes.

“Fine, fine, fuck, Rose suggested me to check the net for this place, but I found the quote all by myself”.

John snorted. “I should have known”.

He glanced at the Hell’s Door, then back at Dave’s face.

“You hoped quoting Italian would get you laid, didn’t you?”

Dave’s lips twitched upwards. “The thought never entered my brain, I swear”.

“Liar!”

“… well, was I right?”

John tugged him down again, lips brushing against each other.

“… maybe, maybe not… depends if you can catch me”.

Dave blinked, not understanding, and John’s smirk widened as he called forth his wind powers.

One second later, Dave was shoved away from him, unceremoniously dropped onto the ground as John ran away, his laughter echoing in the silence.

Dave got up instantly, ruffled and with a tear in his cape, then smirked.

He patted his clothes, brushed one hand through his hair, then slid his shades back on, straightening his back.

The chase was on.