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“Morning,” Shane grunts as he steps into the kitchen.
Ryan’s standing by the sink, his back to the doorway, but he doesn’t startle when Shane settles his hands on his hips and leans around him for a kiss. Instead, he turns his head, forcing Shane to miss his mark and press his mouth to Ryan’s cheek instead.
Shane hesitates, savoring the heat of Ryan’s body under his palms before he sighs and lets him go.
“It’s gonna be one of those days?” he asks, moving to grab a mug from the cupboard before pouring himself coffee from the freshly brewed pot.
He adds creamer and watches the colors swirl together before glancing back over at Ryan.
“It doesn’t have to be like this,” Shane tells him, staring at the tense line of Ryan’s back and the way he has his hands clenched by his sides.
Today he’s fighting.
“Sorruch, let Ryan drive.”
Ryan gasps for breath like he’s finally surfaced from a stint deep underwater and he turns to look at Shane with an expression that’s all too familiar now.
“Shane,” he pleads and Shane watches him in sympathy.
“You don’t need to fight it, Ryan.”
Ryan stares at him with betrayal in his eyes and Shane takes a sip of his coffee. It doesn’t burn his mouth though he thinks it probably should.
*
Shane remembers taking Ryan’s body. It's a fond memory.
He remembers kissing Ryan — or maybe he remembers Ryan kissing him — in the living room, rain drumming on the windows, Ocean's Eleven playing quietly on the TV behind.
“This isn’t what you want,” Shane had insisted, but Ryan had mumbled against his mouth, shaking his head as he’d pushed his way into Shane’s space.
“It is. I know you,” Ryan had said, one hand on Shane’s face, trying to draw him back in. “I trust you.”
It had been easy after that. Ryan had been like putty in his hands, even as Shane's fingers had shifted into claws and his true self had started to emerge.
“I’m not afraid,” Ryan had told him and Shane had grinned.
“Perhaps you should be.”
And Ryan had leaned into it with a laugh. “Hell will revoke your demon card when they find out how soft you are.”
“Maybe,” Shane had agreed. “We’ll see.”
Ryan had been so willing, letting Shane crawl between his legs, letting him learn his body, not seeming the least bit aware of his vulnerability.
“Let me use you,” Shane had asked, buried deep inside him and Ryan had nodded, clutching at Shane’s arms, his hips, the back of his neck to pull him down into another kiss.
“Yeah,” he’d agreed. “I want it.”
Shane had fucked the bargain right out of him and Ryan hadn’t even realized until it was too late, when Alvothan was sliding into his body and pushing him down into the depths of his subconscious.
He remembers the look in Ryan's eyes, the way they'd flickered for a split second with understanding before they'd turned vacant as blackness spread across his sclera.
"It was a success, sir," Alvothan had said in a voice so unlike Ryan and Shane had reached out to touch his face.
As a duke of hell, Shane has legions of demons under his power. They come and go as they please, worming their way into strangers, but now Shane has a vessel they can use, sanctioned by the vessel itself.
It’s easier for the new recruits. They can use Ryan's body like a jungle gym to learn their way around a human vessel until they can lure their way into one of their own. Ryan may not like it, but it makes Shane’s life easier.
Shane thinks Ryan had maybe loved him before, but there’s no mistaking his feelings now.
It’s a shame.
*
“Give me my body back,” Ryan begs, and Shane feels a flicker of remorse, a curse of humanity. He's been in human form for too long. Morality seems to be rubbing off on him.
“You know I can't. You gave yourself to me.”
“You tricked me.”
Shane takes another sip of his coffee.
“No, Ryan,” he says gently, “you trusted a demon.”
He can see the bitter sting of it in Ryan’s expression. The years they’ve spent together, building a community, creating together so effortlessly. Ryan had taken the news surprisingly well when he’d first found out about Shane’s true form. That he’d continued to let Shane into his life had been a twist of fate Shane hadn’t seen coming. Until the night Ryan had kissed him so many months ago, but then it had all made sense.
Through rose tinted glasses, even the devil will look normal.
But Shane can acknowledge that going through the ups and downs of life with someone and still getting your body stolen must hurt. He knows Ryan’s easily trusting, but Shane might be one of the few strong enough to take advantage.
“What about another bargain?” Ryan asks and Shane sets his mug down and sighs.
“Ryan, you have nothing to bargain with. I already have what I want from you.”
“Willingness,” Ryan says abruptly. “I could give you willingness.”
Shane watches him, trying to figure out his angle. “I don't need willingness.”
“Obviously,” Ryan grunts, “but it would be easier if I stopped fighting.”
Shane pauses, attention caught.
Ryan's strong, his faith a nuisance, and when he fights, it usually means whichever demon is borrowing his body can't get anything done. He’s learned how to lock the body up and create an impasse. He can’t do it for long, only an hour or so, and never on consecutive days, but sometimes it’s a real wrench in the works.
“It's inconvenient,” Ryan continues. “My willingness could make your life easier.”
“What would I give you in return?”
Ryan pauses, clearly thinking, like perhaps he never thought he’d get as far as the theoretical bargain. “One full day a week to myself, completely demon-free. Let me see my family. Let me go where I want to go and don’t tail me like a criminal.”
Shane scratches at his jaw, contemplating, nails loud across his stubble. “You're asking for a lot.”
“I'm giving a lot in return.”
Shane nods because it’s true, but he watches Ryan carefully. Ryan stares back, defiant.
“It won’t give you the freedom you think it will,” Shane tells him. “There’s no escape from this pact.”
“I didn’t say anything about escaping.”
Shane smiles, knowingly. “You didn’t have to.”
Shane continues watching him, but Ryan doesn’t waver. As always, he’s all-in.
“Okay,” Shane eventually agrees, holding out his hand. “Deal.”
Ryan does a good job masking the surprise on his face, but he stares at Shane’s hand for too long, giving himself away. He’s hesitating, second guessing, which only makes the deal sweeter.
Finally, he reaches out, grip strong as he shakes Shane’s hand, looking Shane in the eyes, like maybe he thinks he’s making a difference.
“Deal,” he agrees and Shane feels the new bargain burn itself along the inside of his ribs, settling into a place it’ll never leave.
He finds himself grinning at the sight of renewed hope in Ryan’s expression, because he can’t wait to see it disappear, bit by heart-breaking bit.
*
Ryan lasts three weeks before he comes back smelling like church and holy water.
“Ryan,” Shane sighs, disappointed, but Ryan looks confident, maybe even optimistic as he stands in the doorway.
Shane steps closer and draws in a deep breath, his nose tingling like he wants to sneeze.
“You’ve been baptized,” he surmises and Ryan’s jaw clenches, chin rising the slightest amount.
When Shane reaches up and grips the back of Ryan’s neck, true fear flashes across his face, like he expects Shane to snap his spine. But instead, Shane holds him as he leans down and presses a kiss to his forehead.
It burns his lips but he holds steady for a beat and then another before pulling back and meeting Ryan’s gaze.
“This will make it worse for you than it will for me.”
There’s not much confidence in Ryan’s expression now.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asks and Shane shrugs easily, spreading his hands out, palms up.
“It means you’ll find out.”
And he does.
What Ryan clearly doesn’t factor into his little baptism excursion is that the pact ties the demons to his body. They’re one and the same. If he poisons the demons via holy water, he poisons himself, too.
The vomiting starts around two in the morning and Shane stands in the doorway and tuts with sympathy.
“I warned you,” he says, but moves to sit on the edge of the bathtub and brushes hair away from Ryan’s forehead in between retches. “You’ll have to wait for the worst of the baptism to wear off. With a demon inside, it won’t take long.”
Ryan doesn’t reply. He doesn’t say a thing even when it’s an hour later and he looks ready to pass out on the bathroom floor.
“C’mon,” Shane says gently, hooking a hand under Ryan’s arm.
Ryan doesn’t fight him, maybe only because he’s too tired to, and Shane helps him back into bed. Shane may be cruel, but not unnecessarily so. He finds a washcloth, which he dampens with cool water, and pats at Ryan’s clammy skin, trying to help with the fever.
Deep inside, trapped within the birdcage that is Ryan’s soul, Marodath hisses and curses the existence of Shane and Ryan in equal measure. It’ll be uncomfortable for them, but they’ll survive — just like Ryan, who ends up calling out from the office for four days before he’s able to pull himself out of bed without Shane’s help.
Shane hopes it’s a lesson he only has to learn once, but he doubts it when Ryan catches his gaze in the hallway, his expression a quiet kind of fury.
“I’ll find a way,” he promises and Shane doesn’t doubt he’ll try, but he does doubt he’ll succeed.
*
Shane finds the folded design between the couch cushions midway through vacuuming. He knows it's Ryan's because Ryan would never vacuum the couch and would therefore think it's the perfect place to hide something.
He unfolds it and leaves it on the kitchen table for when Olraath brings Ryan's body back.
"Let him out," Shane says when he hears the front door shut and it's Ryan who steps through looking cautious. Shane doesn't let him out often apart from their bargained day off, but so far he’s kept up his end of the bargain by not fighting.
Ryan sees the paper and his expression steels.
"Thinking about getting a tattoo?" Shane asks and it's clear from the clench of Ryan's jaw that he's on the money.
Ryan steps forward, snatching up the paper and stuffing it into his pocket.
“You don’t get a say in how I spend my free time. That’s not part of our deal.”
“It won’t work,” Shane tells him bluntly, but Ryan doesn’t flinch.
“And I should just trust you?”
“You did before,” Shane jokes and Ryan’s expression goes blank with hurt. “Ryan, what would I gain from lying?”
“Other than everything?”
“I already have everything I need. Just thought I’d try to help. Tattoos are permanent, you know.”
“Shut the fuck up,” Ryan says, the words spilling out of him like it’s an automatic reaction after so long of listening to Shane talk shit.
Shane lets out a huff of laughter.
“It won’t make you sick,” he admits, an offering of goodwill, though Ryan still looks suspicious. “In fact, it won’t do anything to anyone.”
“How do you know?” Ryan fires back and Shane levels him with a look.
“I’m thousands of years old,” Shane tells him, tone bland. “I’ve seen more kinds of demon repellent symbols than you’ve seen clouds in the sky. And that one won’t work.”
Ryan stares at him, something going on behind his eyes that might be a thought. “That suggests there’s a symbol that does work.”
“Sure,” Shane says with a shrug. “Something is bound to work sometime. I just haven’t seen anything yet.”
Ryan doesn’t say anything and Shane decides they’re done for the night.
“Olraath,” he says, Ryan’s expression shifting into a resigned frustration, already knowing what’s coming. “We’re done here.”
Ryan’s face goes slack, eyes blackening, and Shane figures he’s planted enough doubt to dissuade Ryan from anything drastic just yet.
*
Ryan doesn’t leave the next time he has control of his own body. Shane doesn’t think much of it until the moment Ryan’s slinking into the living room, holding his gaze as he steps between the easy splay of Shane’s knees. Shane closes the book he’s been reading and watches him coolly.
Ryan climbs into his lap and the book drops unheeded to the couch cushion beside them.
“This is new,” Shane says and Ryan’s expression is unreadable.
"You're still Shane," Ryan says like it's meant to mean something.
"The one and only."
"Is Shane trapped in there or have you always been him?"
Shane settles his hands on Ryan's hips and stares up at him.
"You think you’re ready for that answer?"
"I think you've always been him," Ryan says, not listening. "The way you look at me sometimes. That's never changed."
"Sentimental," Shane retorts glibly, but Ryan doesn’t seem convinced.
“Do you have any regrets?”
“Sure,” Shane agrees. “I regret picking a host whose body hates spice. Sometimes I even regret moving to LA.”
“About me,” Ryan corrects and Shane rubs one thumb around the button of Ryan’s pants.
He watches Ryan, letting his gaze drop to Ryan’s mouth, a tactic that works flawlessly when Ryan leans in to kiss him. Shane lets one hand slide up Ryan’s back, cupping his face to keep him where he is.
Shane’s always appreciated how in-tune Ryan is with his emotions. Not that he truly understands it as a demon. But Ryan puts his heart into the things he loves, and Shane thinks he might be one of those things.
Ryan kisses him like he wants to convince Shane to change his mind about the whole deal, and Shane thinks that might be exactly what he’s trying. Shane has no qualms about letting Ryan believe it’s possible.
He hooks a finger into the waistband of Ryan’s pants and tugs, just enough to get Ryan’s attention. Which it does.
Ryan bats his hand away and unbuttons and unzips his pants, an open invitation if Shane’s ever seen one. Ryan kneels up enough to let Shane bunch his pants and boxer-briefs around his thighs and he sighs when Shane wraps a hand around him, stroking gently, urging him into hardness.
It doesn’t take much, which Shane thinks is saying something. Ryan still can’t help but want him and Shane pities his inability to hate, even after everything.
“Let me see you,” Ryan orders and it’s easy enough for Shane to use his demon strength to lift him while shimmying his sweats down.
Ryan stares at him, like he’s weighing the effectiveness of blowing him, but eventually he spits into his palm and takes Shane in his hand instead.
Shane exhales his appreciation and keeps working at Ryan, letting him roll his hips into his fist.
“You like this,” Ryan says, a statement that’s almost a question with its lack of conviction, and Shane knows what’s coming.
He shifts forward to bite at Ryan’s jaw, a distraction, and Ryan leans into it like he can’t help himself.
“I like most things about you,” Shane admits, which he knows won’t help.
Ryan lets out a noise, sounding pained, though more emotional than physical.
“Why are you doing this?”
Shane kisses below his ear. “Because you crawled into my lap.”
“No — why did you trick me into a bargain?”
Shane moves, mouth now pressing to the corner of Ryan’s lips. “Because it was easy.”
“Why me?”
Shane swirls his thumb over the tip of Ryan’s cock and Ryan bucks into the touch.
“It wasn’t anything you did,” Shane admits, if only to try to lessen the guilt he knows must be eating Ryan alive. “I took advantage because you were there.”
Ryan leans back to meet his gaze. He doesn’t know what Ryan sees, but a realization seems to wash over him
“You don’t regret it, do you?” he asks “There’s nothing I can do to make you break the deal.”
Shane stands firm, knowing the kindest thing is to put Ryan out of his misery. “I’d do it again if I had to.”
He doesn’t know what happens, but the next moment, Ryan’s gaze unfocuses and darkness spreads across them, a demon slipping to the forefront.
“Where is he?” Shane asks and the demon blinks at him.
“Sir,” Ryan’s mouth says, but it’s not him. “He’s refusing to take control."
Shane pushes him away, gently. “Go clean up,” he orders and the demon doesn’t hesitate.
They climb off of Shane’s lap and head in the direction of the bathroom. Shane waits until he hears the shower turn on before continuing, stroking himself hard and fast until his body gives in.
Coming is unsatisfactory and he knows he deserves it. He sighs and licks the come off his fingers.
*
Shane doesn’t see Ryan for three weeks. Well, he sees Ryan’s body, but Ryan doesn’t emerge.
“Force him out,” Shane grunts, annoyed, his patience low.
Aggal takes a backseat and Ryan meets his gaze, looking unimpressed.
“You have a bargain to keep,” Shane tells him and Ryan folds his arms.
“I’m not fighting anyone.”
“The other half of that bargain is that you spend a day to yourself,” Shane points out and Ryan shrugs.
“Extra time for you to do your demon bullshit.”
Shane slaps his hand against the kitchen counter and for once Ryan looks intrigued, seeming surprised that he could get a rise from Shane. But Shane’s weakest link has and always will be Ryan. If anyone could make Shane react, it would be him.
“Bargains demand balance.” He stares hard at Ryan, who doesn’t seem to see the severity of the situation. He doesn’t know what happens to demons who can’t maintain bargains. “You’ll uphold your end of the bargain, or I’ll force you into something worse.”
Ryan raises one eyebrow at him. “Something worse than not being able to live my own life?”
Shane holds his gaze. “How long do you think eternity is in the afterlife? I can put in a word with the big man downstairs, if you’d like to play this game.”
That gets Ryan’s attention. He doesn’t have to know that Shane has zero say in what happens to souls after humans pass. But Shane’s not here to play fair. He’s here to do his job.
The silence grows as Ryan watches him, but so does the anger in his expression.
“I’m going out,” Ryan snaps. “Sic your minion on someone else.”
The demon leaves Ryan like steam rising from a vent in the sidewalk on a cold morning — not that Ryan can see — but Shane nods in understanding and Ryan turns without a word.
Shane’s annoyance lingers even without Ryan’s presence and Shane hates feeling so human.
*
Sir, a voice in Shane’s head says and he knows it’s not his own thoughts. He’s attempting an exorcism.
Shane sighs and goes to find his shoes, wallet, and keys.
It doesn’t seem right for a demon to take a Lyft, but it’s Shane’s only option, and the car drops him at the curb outside a small, unassuming house just under thirty minutes later. He waits for it to drive away before heading towards the front door, unlocking it with a wave of his hand and letting himself inside.
In the living room, Ryan’s kneeling in the center of a chalk circle scrawled onto the hardwood floor, head bowed, as two people recite Latin. The demon inside Ryan is losing grip and Shane’s always been impressed by Ryan’s level of research. Whoever it is he’s found to perform the exorcism for him, they’re good.
It’s a shame it’ll be the last one they ever perform.
Ryan’s head snaps up like he can sense Shane’s presence and Shane takes great pleasure in knowing Ryan sees him wave his hand, causing the two strangers to immediately stop their chanting and slump over.
Ryan stands up and backs away, horror clear on his face. “Why are you here?”
“A little birdy told me you were up to no good,” Shane says, taking a step closer to loom. He wants Ryan to feel as uncomfortable as possible.
“What did you do to Isabella and Duncan?”
Shane glances down at them — Isabella and Duncan — and the unnatural stillness of their bodies.
“I escalated things to my boss,” he says bluntly.
It takes Ryan a moment, but quickly a new kind of horror spreads through him and Shane watches in fascination. He’s never seen Ryan look like this, but he can't help but enjoy it.
“Shane,” Ryan says, and he sounds deliciously sickened.
“Actions have consequences, Ryan,” Shane tells him coolly. “This happened because you apparently haven’t learned that our bargains aren’t negotiable.”
“Shane,” Ryan repeats and he staggers, like his legs can’t hold him upright.
“Don’t puke,” Shane tells him, “or your DNA will be all over the crime scene.”
There won’t be a crime scene, not that Ryan needs to know the truth. Shane will alert Hell, who will send in two higher level demons to take over the empty bodies — like Shane once did. His host had died sometime in the early 2000s and he’d crawled into the shell and has been piloting it ever since.
Ryan brings his arms in, hands clenched like he's terrified of accidentally touching something, and Shane bites back a grin.
“Shane,” Ryan repeats again and Shane wonders if he’s finally broken him.
“I warned you,” Shane tells him, “and look what happened.”
“I knew them,” Ryan says hollowly and Shane lets out a sigh.
“You should’ve thought about that before. You knew the risks.”
“I didn’t think you’d kill them,” Ryan snaps and there it is — the anger that Shane so loves.
“I’m not the forgiving kind,” Shane says with a shrug.
“Half of the bargain was you leaving me alone. You broke your promise.”
“You were playing dirty.”
“This is my life,” Ryan spits. “It’s not a game.”
“Not for you, maybe,” Shane agrees, and when he smiles at Ryan, he can really see the hatred in his eyes.
“Fuck you.”
Shane laughs and shakes his head in disappointment. “You won’t win this.”
“Maybe,” Ryan agrees. “But I can make you wish you’d never chosen me.”
Shane arches one eyebrow at him and welcomes the fun.
*
Ryan starts fighting again and Shane can't help but feel it would be easier for both of them if Ryan just went to therapy to deal with his feelings instead.
"You can't keep doing this," Shane tells him, a slice of pizza in one hand and a bottle of local IPA in the other.
Ryan's been standing in the doorway to the kitchen, Blair Witch style, for the past hour and a half. It's a new personal best.
His hands are clenched into fists, knuckles white, and Shane knows he's going to have a hard time unfurling his fingers later. His face is expressionless, but Shane knows there's a war going on inside between him and whatever demon is there today.
Twenty minutes later, Ryan's still there and Shane's got an empty beer bottle. He edges his way around Ryan with a polite excuse me, before tossing his bottle in the trash. He grabs a cold one from the fridge and pauses.
"Want one?" he asks, but Ryan doesn't even flinch and Shane shrugs. "Suit yourself."
He steps forward, about to squeeze past Ryan again, until he notices the expression on his face shift.
A tear tracks down Ryan’s cheek, one of the only signs that there’s something happening.
Shane raises his hand and brushes it away with his thumb, cupping Ryan’s face with his palm as more tears quickly follow.
“Ryan,” he says gently, “fighting isn’t the answer you’re looking for. You know this. You're only making things worse.”
“Maybe that's what I want,” Ryan grits out and Shane's surprised he can even talk. He might actually be winning against the demon inside him. It’s not a good sign.
Shane sighs and leans in, pressing a light kiss to Ryan’s forehead. For just a second, Ryan’s gaze lifts to him, but then his eyes glaze over and Shane has to support him with one hand as he slumps forward, unconscious.
“Ithrak,” Shane says aloud, “take over this body.”
“Sir,” Ryan’s mouth says a moment later, his body shifting upright, no longer needing Shane’s help.
“Raise the requirements for piloting this host. He’s resisting.”
Ithrak nods with Ryan’s head and Shane knows Ryan must be locked away inside cursing Shane’s existence.
“I'm sorry, Ryan,” Shane says earnestly. “I wish it didn't have to be this way, but I have higher orders. I know it doesn’t feel like it, but it’s nothing personal.”
There’s no recognition in Ryan’s eyes and Shane considers it a job well done.
*
All hell breaks loose a week later when Ryan returns from his day off smelling like his family, a fire burning in his eyes.
Shane doesn’t see the blade until it’s already buried in his side, up near his armpit. He stumbles back a step and stares at Ryan in open surprise.
“Be reasonable, Ryan,” he says as Ryan’s expression shifts into a confused kind of disappointment, like he expected Shane to die instantly.
Shane reaches down and pulls the knife free, staring down at it as blood drips off the blade onto the kitchen floor. It seems to be a rudimentary demon knife, but it’s not good enough to do anything other than annoy Shane.
He tosses it onto the breakfast table and grabs a nearby kitchen towel to stuff under his arm and stem the bleeding. He may be a demon, but his host is still flesh and blood.
“That was stupid,” Shane tells him and Ryan takes a step back, finally seeming to realize what he’s done.
With a clench of his fist, Shane has Ryan on his knees, his fingers digging into the floor as he exhales in pain.
“Shane,” he begs, like he has any right, and Shane makes it worse for him, just to make a point.
“Where’s the demon de jour?”
“I trapped them,” Ryan admits quickly.
“Where?”
“In here.” Shane stops the agony and Ryan lets out a ragged breath, bringing a hand up to touch his chest. “They’re in here.”
Shane feels his brows raise.
“I’m impressed.”
“Didn’t do it to impress you,” Ryan snaps and Shane laughs.
“No, I don’t suppose you did. How long have you had them trapped?”
“Three days.”
Which means Ryan’s been posing as his demons for a couple of days because their routine hasn’t changed. It also means Ryan’s a lot stronger than he ever expected him to be.
Shane crouches down, mostly to be an asshole, but partly so he can look Ryan in the eyes when he says, “You can’t kill me.”
“One day, I’ll find a way,” Ryan grits out, ever the optimist and Shane clicks with the side of his mouth.
“One day — and it may be sooner than you expect — I’ll grow bored of you trying and I’ll return the favor. Except I have a feeling I’ll be more successful.”
“At least I’ll be free.”
“You think you’ll be free?” Shane laughs, meanly. “You’ve been marked. You’re not going to heaven when you die, and this is paradise in comparison to the real Hell.”
Ryan stares at him, clearly trying to decipher if Shane’s being serious.
“Marked?” he asks eventually and Shane rests his forearms on his knees, a relaxed pose that he knows will annoy Ryan.
“I consider it insurance. In our first deal, I marked your soul. It’s meant to deter other demons from trying to make bargains, but associating with a known demon isn’t a good look if you meet the big man upstairs.”
Ryan visibly swallows and goes quiet, seeming to slowly internalize the knowledge.
“Is there a way to remove it?”
Shane tilts his head. “There is,” Shane agrees, "but considering you just stabbed me, I’m not feeling particularly generous right now.”
“You could unmark me? That’s possible?”
It’s a dangling carrot that Shane never truly sees himself giving up. But Ryan doesn’t need to know that.
“Anything is possible if you believe enough, Ryan.”
“What would I need to do for you to remove it?”
Shane sighs and lowers himself onto his ass, leaning against the nearest cupboard as he stretches out his legs. The wound under his arm is well on its way to healing, but it still throbs uncomfortably in a way that human bodies often do.
“I don’t know.”
It doesn’t seem to be the answer Ryan wants to hear.
“There has to be something,” he insists and Shane sighs, moving his foot just enough to nudge it gently against Ryan’s leg.
“I’m not sure there’s anything you could give me that would be as sweet as your soul, Ryan.”
All things considered, it feels romantic, though Ryan looks at him as though he’d rather Shane were dead. It’s fair.
“Fuck you,” he says and it sounds like he means it, which hurts.
“We might be at what one would consider a good, old fashioned impasse.”
Ryan watches him for a minute, his expression raw, eyes watery with despair. When it’s clear Shane isn’t about to say anything more, he pushes himself to his feet, no longer seeming to care what Shane might be able to do to him, but it’s not surprising because he’s always been the braver one out of both of them.
“Don’t forget your knife,” Shane calls out, but Ryan doesn’t look back and the front door slams loudly as he leaves.
*
“I’ve been offered a bargain,” Ryan tells him almost a month later as fall starts giving way to winter.
Shane looks up from where he’s been idly scrolling through his phone, arches a brow at him, and snorts, incredulous. “No demon would offer you a bargain with my mark on your soul.”
“Their name was Onoch.”
Shane pauses and blinks at him. On a technicality, Onoch is what one might consider Shane’s boss.
“Onoch doesn’t make deals.”
“They said they’d make an exception.”
A deal with Onoch would undermine Shane in the ranks of hell. He doesn’t know how much of that Ryan actually knows, but he assumes it’s enough to put weight behind whatever demand he’s clearly about to make.
“What was the deal?”
“Does it matter?” Ryan asks. “It was better than this one.”
Shane watches him, focusing his senses until he can hear the steady beat of Ryan’s heart. He’s calm and Shane has the unnerving feeling that Ryan might be telling the truth.
“You’re lying,” he tries, but Ryan just shrugs.
“Sure,” he says. “Ask Onoch yourself if you don’t believe me.”
Shane can’t. Asking Onoch would put him in a dangerous position, especially if the bargain is real. Shane’s strong, but he’s not prince-of-hell strong and he’s not going to risk it if Onoch is questioning his authority so boldly.
“Let Annar take over,” Shane demands, but Ryan stares at him defiantly for a long moment before his eyes darken and his body shifts in the subtle way it does when Ryan’s no longer in control.
“Sir?” Annar asks and Shane jumps right to the point.
“Did your host meet with Onoch?”
“Yes,” they answer without hesitation and Shane hates being right sometimes.
“What deal was offered?”
Annar tilts Ryan's head almost imperceptibly. “I don’t know. The host blocked us.”
Shane nods and sighs. “Let the host take over again.”
Ryan shifts back into his body seamlessly, a knowing smile on his face.
“I’ll say no to the bargain if you make a new deal with me,” Ryan tells him without skipping a beat, and there it is — Ryan’s demand.
Shane folds his arms. “What’s the deal?”
“Give me my body back,” Ryan says and Shane laughs.
“No,” he says without hesitation and the corner of Ryan’s mouth curls down.
“Take the mark off my soul.”
“No,” Shane repeats. “What do I get out of it?”
“Onoch doesn’t kill you,” Ryan deadpans, which means he knows precisely how much bargaining power he holds.
“Demons can’t be killed by other demons,” Shane points out and Ryan shrugs.
“Onoch said you’d be put into a weaker form.”
Shane doesn’t like how much Onoch shared with the class, and Ryan watches him like he knows. Shane’s being backed into a deal whether he likes it or not.
“Sweeten the deal,” he says and Ryan’s posture shifts like he knows he’s making progress.
“I have an idea,” Ryan tells him and when he doesn’t say anything else, Shane gestures impatiently.
But the more Ryan hesitates, the more Shane realizes he might actually like what Ryan’s about to say. The hesitation tells him that Ryan hates whatever’s about to leave his mouth.
“What if I could get you a steady source of souls?” Ryan asks, and Shane’s interest is more than a little piqued.
“I could do that myself,” he points out and Ryan shakes his head.
“Why do something yourself? I could — ” he takes a breath like he can’t believe he’s saying it. “I could vet them for you.”
Ryan has his full attention.
“Where do you intend to get them?”
“There are interns who would do anything to work on Unsolved,” Ryan says and the second the words are out, he seems to regret them, but he lifts his chin like he's fighting through it. They both know it’s Ryan's only choice. "There's nothing more resilient than a BuzzFeed intern."
It sounds like some kind of punchline, but Shane knows Ryan might be on to something.
“Oh, Ryan,” he sighs with a smile. “How Machiavellian of you.”
“Give me a number,” Ryan tells him. “How many souls would it take for you to return mine?”
“I could never put a price on your soul,” Shane provokes and Ryan’s stare is so cold that Shane has the feeling that if he doesn’t give Ryan a number, Ryan will happily hand him over to Onoch.
“How many?” Ryan repeats and Shane sighs and cards his fingers through his hair.
“I don’t know,” he admits. “I’d need to think about it.”
“How long?”
“These things can’t be rushed, Ryan,” Shane says. “It’s an important detail.”
“So, I should just agree to Onoch’s bargain?”
Shane levels him with a look, but knows he doesn’t have as much sway as usual.
“Two hundred,” he says evenly. It’s a high enough number to show that he’s not playing, but it’s still attainable.
Ryan watches him, but his expression doesn’t give anything away, and after a moment, he holds out his hand.
“Deal.”
Shane’s not happy, though it’s clear Ryan knows that. Shane wasn’t lying before when he told Ryan that it was nothing personal. He stole Ryan’s soul out of convenience, not spite. If Ryan can get easy hosts for Shane’s underlings, then they’ve reached the same goal. It’s not worth risking his position in Hell just to make Ryan personally unhappy.
Begrudgingly, Shane reaches out, taking Ryan’s hand in his own.
“Deal,” he agrees, and the new bargain burns itself into his ribs alongside the others.
Ryan’s shoulders drop in what Shane suspects is relief, which Shane finds funny since he’ll soon become the number one exporter of souls.
“You’ll miss me,” Shane jokes, but Ryan doesn’t react, just turns and walks away.
When the front door closes behind him, Shane can’t help but feel like he’ll have to get used to being alone again.
*
Shane’s a little proud of how quickly Ryan gathers up souls, though he’s not sure how he feels when Ryan hands off the final one on a rainy day in June.
“We had a deal,” Ryan tells him. “Unmark my soul and let me go.”
“You’re good at this,” Shane says instead of breaking their bond. “You’d make a good demon.”
“Fuck you,” Ryan retorts. “Let me go.”
Shane watches him, but Ryan folds his arms, staring at him with a calculated coldness that reminds Shane of how far they’ve come. There’s no love in Ryan’s gaze now.
“Fine,” Shane relents, and with a wave of his hand, frees Ryan and gives him what he’s wanted for so long.
“Did it work?” Ryan asks and it stings a little that he doesn’t seem to notice the lack of Shane’s presence lingering deep inside him.
“You’re free,” Shane confirms, though Ryan still looks dubious.
“How do I know you — ” he starts, but Shane cuts him off.
“I can’t go back on a bargain, Ryan. We’ve been through this.”
Surprisingly, Shane doesn’t see the punch coming until it’s too late. Ryan hits him squarely in the face, the force knocking Shane’s head back and startling a laugh right out of him.
“Oh, Ryan,” he says, but doesn’t retaliate. He brings a hand up to his nose to check for blood, but there’s nothing.
“Fuck you,” Ryan spits with a rage Shane’s never seen before. “Fuck you for turning me into this kind of person.”
“One who upholds bargains?”
“One who survives on lies.”
“That’s deep,” Shane jokes, but Ryan watches him with a look in his eyes that’s almost manic.
“You have no idea, do you?” Ryan asks and Shane shrugs.
“About what?”
“There was no deal with Onoch,” Ryan tells him. “You turned me into someone who’s able to lie to demons.”
Shane takes a moment to process the information, trying to judge Ryan’s expression for any sign that he’s not telling the truth.
But Shane thinks he really has underestimated Ryan this whole time — with the endless fighting, always finding a way to bargain, and eventually earning his own freedom.
Shane realizes then that Ryan had full control over Annar when he’d lied about meeting with Onoch. He has a quiet kind of power and part of Shane regrets no longer owning his soul.
“You’re more like me than you think,” Shane tells him and Ryan pulls his arm back like he might hit Shane again, but after a moment, he shakes his head and drops his hand back down.
“Only because you made me this way.”
“Maybe,” Shane agrees. “Or maybe I just exposed the truth.”
“I’m done,” Ryan tells him abruptly. “I’m handing in my notice tomorrow.”
There’s an ache of sadness inside Shane, something all too human, but he tells himself that it’s just because he won’t have anyone else to antagonize now. It might not be the truth, but Shane doesn't think he'll like what he finds if he looks at it too deeply.
“Don’t be like that,” Shane says and Ryan lifts a finger in warning.
“I’m going to find a way to kill you,” he promises and Shane’s not stupid enough to think he’s joking.
“Gotta spice up the relationship somehow,” Shane agrees.
“I’ll do it,” Ryan threatens and Shane finds himself smiling.
“After everything we’ve been through, I don’t doubt it. I think if anyone can kill me, it’ll be you — my one true weakness.”
Ryan watches him, his focus moving from one eye to the other, but then he steps back and Shane knows it’s the last time they’ll ever see each other if Ryan has his way. He savors the moment, taking in the fire in Ryan’s expression, the tense line of his shoulders, the way he’s always been so open with the way he feels.
Shane thinks that maybe he loves him in that moment.
But Ryan turns and leaves.
“I’ll see you in Hell,” Shane tells him, but it's a promise, not a warning.