Okay. So this is my first-ever attempt at a fanfiction (I like making my own characters _) and it is, of course… DEVIL LAD X FINCH. Which is sexy. As long as they're older, of course, cuz I think in the original I Luv Halloween comics (which are not mine, and in fact belong to TOKYOPOP, Benjamin Roman, and Keith Giffen. ^_^ If you haven't read them, I don't know why you're reading this, so go read the Ultimate Twisted Edition or something!!XD Have funtimes.*

I've taken some of the situations from the books and made them a little different, so in a sense, this is OOC… I think. Or just a little off-storyline. You get it. XD ^_^'

And I might've said it, but any and all characters in this chapter DO NOT BELONG TO ME. They're the brilliant ideas of Benjamin Roman and Keith Giffen. I Luv Halloween is published by Tokyopop.

*Yes, I KNOW it's not a real word, but neither is sexytime(s), and Sacha Baron Cohen used it. No one cared when he did. =P =D

"Did you know 'turgid' means pretentious?"

"Sounds about right: Turgid Meadows, home of the pompous fatheads."

Finch nodded knowingly, weighing his candy bag in his left arm. "This place is full of arrogant adults. We're swimming in the greedy, self-righteous morons." He gave Devil Lad a sideways look, nudging him with an elbow to get him to face him. "Hey, you wanna hit up the next block?"

"Well, duh, dude," the devil-masked boy responded. Finch imagined he was grinning under the demented grin painted on that mask.

The group had gotten older; Finch had turned 16 recently, just after Mister Kitty, Pig-Pig was 15, Moochie was about eight, and though he neither confirmed nor denied it, Devil Lad might've been around 17 now. They'd agreed on trick-or-treating until the very end of adolescence – and no one could stop them. Turgid Meadows was at least bountiful and generous this year, unlike it had been the year they'd gotten stuck on a Choco-Willies loop or enveloped with aliens.

Finch trotted up the next house's front steps, slapping the doorbell as Devil Lad came up behind him. The door opened to reveal a falsely ecstatic middle-aged woman with a twitching smile.

"And who do we have here?" she said in a typically deranged voice. "Finch, little Finch – I remember when you were still and itty BITTY boy! And your friend…"

"Devil Lad," he offered.

"Yes, Devil Lad." She paused, a handful of candy hovering over the boy's bag. "I don't think I know who you are under that mask, actually. Are you from this neighborhood?"

"Possibly," Devil Lad shrugged. The twitchy lady dropped the candy into his bag, and the two boys spun on their heels, leaping off her small porch and running down the street. DL was in the lead, getting to the next house first. Finch's thoughts remained on what the jumpy lady had said.

Once they'd finished the block, Finch subtly directed their walk towards the bluff. For a while, they only walked, neither saying much.

"You're a Poacher, aren't you?" Finch blurted.

"I'm a what?" Devil Lad asked, sounding confused.

"You're not from around here, are you?" he clarified, "You live in the next town or something and only come to Turgid Meadows to hoard candy on Halloween."

"Maybe."

God, what an annoying response, Finch reflected a little bitterly. "Goddammit."

"I'm here to trick-or-treat with you guys. Does anything else matter?" Devil Lad allowed carefully, one hand coming out of his front pocket momentarily to wave off the comment. "Do you actually wanna know?"

Yes, Finch thought, then I could talk to you at school or something, too. "No," he said aloud, turning a little away.

"Fine," came the non-committal response.

The bluff stretched before them, ominous in the dark as they walked along it. Finch had always been curious about Devil Lad's origins, as if the boy were a spy with a secret identity he was dying to discover.

"Answer me this: Do I know you without a mask?" Finch pressed.

Devil Lad chuckled. "I dunno… you tell me."

Rolling his eyes under his skull mask, Finch stated skeptically, "I don't recognize your voice. It's not like you're Bruce Wayne – this is real life. You'd hafta be disguising your voice either with or without that mask on… and I'm guessing with it on."

Seeming impressed, Devil Lad's frozen expression faced his own. "Then why ask that question before?" He didn't wait for a reply. "Anyway, this would be true… if that were the case. But, man – why do you care?" He sounded slightly suspicious. Why didn't he interrogate me earlier? he questioned in his head.

"Cuz it's kind-of annoying how I only know a night's worth of who you are," Finch replied immediately. He clamped his jaw shut though, worried he'd come off as girly. Either DL didn't notice, or he didn't care.

"…What's it to you?" Devil Lad challenged, unintentionally harsh.

"I WANT TO KNOW," Finch shouted with heat, not knowing why.

There was a dead silence as the two teenagers stopped walking, Finch standing with fists clenched, his candy-bag spilled on the sidewalk. Why was he getting so worked up over this? He had no clue.

Devil Lad didn't move, but stood watching Finch with round, plastic yellow devil's eyes silently. The street lamp above them shone dully; insects buzzed and chirped in the small, swamp-like forest below, down under the bluff, and they could hear bats' wings flap as they chowed down on said bugs. Finch was scowling, even though he knew Devil Lad couldn't see.

"Tell me," he demanded through gritted teeth. Ten years of trick-or-treating and dangerous mischief was enough time to just hypothesize. He and Mr. Kitty had come up with a few theories – the most popular being that DL was from the Bowls of Hell itself… He was "Devil Lad," after all.

The boy in the pink hoodie shook his head. "Can't," he said quietly; Finch detected a hint of regret in DL's tone. "Aaaaaand don't wanna," he added with a shrug, lying casually.

"Why not?"

"It's complicated –"

"I've got all night."

Devil Lad paused. He scratched his head, angling away as though debating on the matter. "Finch…" He sighed dramatically. "It's not important," he evaded, "Can we get more candy now, dude?"

Glaring ineffectually, the slightly shorter boy folded his arms. "I've been trick-or-treating with you for ten years, DL – Mr. Kitty and Pig-Pig, too. We can't help but wonder." Okay, so Pig-Pig and Kitty gave up long ago, but that's beside the point.

"I doubt Pig-Pig and Kitty give a shit anymore," the hooded boy skepticized, calling on Finch's mild bluff.

"At least take the mask off," Finch asked, frustrated, realizing that was what bothered him the most – he didn't know what Devil Lad looked like.

"No," Devil Lad said firmly, the second Finch had finished speaking.

"Last time I asked, you gave excuses – tradition and deformity and crap – and it wasn't good enough."

"Finch—"

"I lied when I said I didn't want to know."

"It's not happening," DL seemed to growl, startling Finch enough that the redhead backed away a bit. "Just drop it, Finch."

"No way, man," Finch retorted stubbornly. "Why's it such a big deal?"

"That's my line," Devil Lad mumbled, starting to walk away.

"Hey!" Rushing after him, Finch grabbed his shoulder and wheeled him around. "Goddammit," he ground out, shoving the taller boy a little. "Devil Lad!"

"Knock it off, Finch," Devil Lad snapped, swatting Finch's hand away. "The mask stays on!"

"Then at least tell me who you are!" Finch roared.

"I'm DEVIL LAD!" he raged back, fronting the smaller boy, a pain stabbing at his chest. "What more do you want?!"

Finch didn't answer. He just let Devil Lad stand menacingly over him, a strange, hurt sort of feeling pumping through his veins. It was a simple enough question, thought Finch, so why is he getting so angry? Why do I bother persisting? Neither knew – about each other or the truth.

Well, naturally, Devil Lad knew about himself, and the necessity and reason for his mask, but who was counting?

"I'll take mine off," Finch suggested lowly, backing out from under DL's looming, blank stare. "I will – break tradition and sacredness and everything."

Devil Lad was again surprised. "You – you would?" Halloween was their personal Holy Holiday – keeping your mask on all night long for their group was like keeping the Menorah lit for the full eight days. It had to be done religiously. Finch realized vaguely that he'd been asking the same of Devil Lad, but he dismissed the thought. "What if I've already seen you?"

"HA. You just answered a previous question," Finch said smugly with a hidden smirk. Technically he didn't – but that was just detail, and besides… it threw DL off.

"Huh," Devil Lad grunted, clearly irked.

"So how about it?" Finch urged, determined.

"…No."

"Why not?"

"I don't feel like explaining stuff," Devil Lad yawned, having regained his cool. "It's almost midnight, anyway."

"You point? I'm 16 – midnight is nothing."

Devil Lad sighed almost sadly. "Finch… you don't really want to know who I am. When tonight is over, you'll forget all about me until next Halloween anyway."

"Dude," Finch scoffed, offended, "No one said I ever forget about you. You're the King of Enigmas, man. I can't stop thinking about you." Too late, he realized how damning what he'd just said was.

Devil Lad froze on the spot, making Finch walk two paces ahead of him before he turned around. "You… what?" DL uttered incredulously.

"Never mind," Finch said hastily, walking again. "You won't answer anything I ask anyway, so forget I ever did."

"No, wait – Finch." A hand gripped the end of his scarf, gagging him briefly; he stopped. "Why do you think about me??"

"I don't know," he responded, tugging his scarf back, embarrassed. "You just… stick inside my head. It's not my fault."

"Does it have to be somebody's fault?"

"Whatever!" Finch huffed unsurely.

"I think about you too."

Startled, Finch did a double take. "What??"

"You have no idea," the devil-masked boy chuckled. "You haven't even got a clue."

"What is that supposed to mean?!"

"What do you think it means, Finch?" Devil Lad challenged. When the redhead didn't answer, DL seized his wrist and dragged him unceremoniously down the sidewalk, making for the nearest cover of trees.

"What the hell --? Devil Lad, let go, I know how to w—"

Thrown against a wide tree trunk, Finch's breath was knocked out of him. His wrists were pinned to the bark on either side of his head, and a tall, oddly warm body pressed up against his. Finch would've felt threatened, but there was no malice in the movements – only desperation.

"Devil Lad," he said anxiously, "What're you doing?" Wriggling a little, he fought to free his hands from the other's iron grip as they were moved above his head.

"I'm not exactly from Hell," came DL's voice near his ear. "But I'm also not technically from here, either."

"What are you talking about?" A hand covered his mask, and he quickly blurted, "No, don't!"

"I don't really need to," DL confessed quietly, pulling his hand back a little.

"Goddammit, get off – and quit speaking in riddles!" He was trying to cover up panic, but it began leaking into his words. "What're you doing?!"

"Do you really want to know about me?" He tightened his grip, suspenseful.

"Devil Lad, you're holding too tight –"

"Cuz you won't like everything you hear."

"That hurts, Devil Lad!"

Instantly, Devil Lad released the smaller boy's hands, stepping back to give him space. Finch bent over floppily, massaging his wrists and panting nervously. Devil Lad turned guiltily away, hating himself for harming Finch.

"Devil Lad, what was that all about?" Finch asked lowly, looking over to him, "And what d'you mean, I 'won't like what I hear'?" How would he know?

"Trust me," the hooded teenager snorted bitterly.

"Try me," Finch retorted, standing up straight. A street lamp flickered somewhere behind him. "I dare you," he added with a smirk.

Now he had him. They weren't the kind to turn down a dare.

"I'm not entirely human."

Like a deadweight thrown at his face, Devil Lad's words perforated his brain. "Not… human?" Well, that wasn't so hard to believe – what with past years of zombies and aliens and whatnot. "Then what are you?"

"…There isn't a word for it in English."

Finch waited.

"I'm a mix. Sorta. I was born a human. Part of me isn't anymore, though.

"Is that supposed to put me off?"

Devil Lad's mask tilted to the side. "Uh… doesn't it?" he asked disbelievingly. When Finch shook his head, he added, "Yeah, right."

"If anything, you just scored points," Finch chuckled bemusedly. "Is that all you've got?"

"…Are you shitting me?"

"Dude, weirder shit has happened around here."

"…All right, then. But I'm not taking off my mask," DL replied hastily, shoving his hands into his sweatshirt pocket.

"Fine," Finch grumbled. Adjusting his scarf, he paused. "You're not from here or Hell? What the fuck?"

"Remember the whole was-born-a-human thing?" Devil sauntered to the edge of the bluff, looking out over the distant city lights. "Well, I was nearly killed, and was offered… basically a second chance. By a demon, of course," he explained solemnly, inclining his head. "I was revived, but changed. My body… is human, but I've got a – I've got a demon soul."

"What happened?" Finch asked with tentative curiosity, approaching him carefully from behind. "Why a demon's soul?"

Devil Lad remained morose. "Demon's souls give them their powers. They heal themselves, and they're nearly indestructible physically besides… and stuff. I was gifted and cursed simultaneously. Ever notice how I never get hurt? Even when all the bizarre shit happens, every year? Yet I still feel pain – everything. Humanity isn't gone, I swear. But I'd be twisted, with of without this foreign soul… just like you, Mister Kitty, Pig-Pig, and Moochie… especially Moochie. She's worse than all of us put together, actually."

Finch smirked under his skull mask. His little sister was Queen of the Morbid.

"How were you almost killed?"

Again, the boy in the pink sweatshirt waited to respond. "My step-dad."

A news story from a decade ago scraped at Finch's memory. He recalled distantly seeing a broadcast on morning television, headlining something like, "Mother and child murdered by husband – run over multiple times with a pick-up truck," on Halloween. It happened in town. People forgot all about it by the next year, and Finch was too young to remember.

"That was you?" he questioned quietly, coming to stand next to him.

"…The story is gone. Media for it vanished once I got this soul. No one would remember, and no matter how hard, or where you search, you couldn't find it," Devil Lad went on gravely. His mask turned to face Finch's. "How come you remember?" he wondered aloud, a hint of expectation in his voice. "I knew you were different – but not that different."

"How am I different?" Finch demanded.

"You were the first one to notice me, ten Halloweens ago. According to the demons, I should've been invisible to even the psychically inclined humans for at least three days after I got this soul. But you… you called me out, literally out of the shadows the very same day, and made everyone see me. I even had my mask. You're younger than me, so I just assumed it was childhood senses – you hadn't numbed all your psyches yet, y'know?" Finch nodded a little, completely unknowing of what he was meant to know. "But now I know…

"You're supposed to redeem me."

Finch blinked. "Excuse me?"

Sighing wearily, DL muttered, "Never mind. Sorry, man." Scratching at his hood, he mumbled, "Too much for you to handle right now," before putting both hands in his big front pocket.

Irritated and feeling his pride was threatened, Finch stepped in front of him before he could leave. "Hey – take off your mask." He didn't command, he didn't ask – he just spoke the words. "I wanna see your face."

Devil Lad took a step back. "No. Way. Finch."

The redhead stepped even closer to him. "I'm not 'redeeming' anyone who won't even show me his face. I'll take mine off…"

"Do it," DL challenged darkly, leaning back a little for better view.

Wrenching the strap from the back of his head, Finch threw the skull mask to the ground at his feet, scowling. It definitely felt more effective now that his mask wasn't blocking the expression.

"Your turn," he stated triumphantly, smirking a little.

"…Your eyes are really cool."

Thrown off, Finch felt heat rush to his cheeks. "What the hell? So what?" he grumbled. "Now take your mask off!"

"I'm gonna say… no."

"This is some serious bullshit." Lunging forward, the shorter boy grabbed at the top of Devil Lad's pink hood and yanked it down, before he could react; silky black hair flipped around at the disturbance. DL kept it past his ears, and Finch imagined it would be soft to the touch. He couldn't help but pause to stare. He didn't notice the older boy's arm swing around and get him until he was in a headlock at his side. "Dammit," Finch grunted, struggling once again at Devil Lad's strength. Does he work out?? He wondered, bewildered. "Get off of me! Get off!"

"Hell, Finch," Devil Lad said lowly, "You honestly don't want to do that."

"Yes… I… DO!" Breaking out of Devil Lad's hold, Finch stumbled, accidentally pitching forward a little too far – slipped on the muddy ground and began to fall down the bluff side, eyes wide and breath caught in his dry throat.

Falling wasn't like it was in the movies: screaming, slow motion, and dramatic music. When Finch fell, everything moved faster, he didn't even open his mouth, and all hear could hear was Devil Lad's urgent cry of, "FINCH!" As he hurtled over the edge, all he could think of was what DL had said about redeeming him – how could he do it if he died? Who could save Devil Lad then? He tried shutting his eyes, but couldn't.

So he saw when Devil Lad dove after him.

The masked boy moved like a bullet – fast and forceful – as he slammed into Finch, wrapping his arms around him in a protective embrace, spinning them in the air so that he would land first.

They broke the cover of trees, the taller boy's shoulders and neck doing all the work. He clung to Finch, holding the shorter boy's head against his chest, just over his heart; Finch's arms came up under his in an almost feminine hug as their legs flew uselessly behind them.

A muffled thump echoed throughout the trees as they crash-landed on the earth. For what could've been an eternity, neither moved. Finally, Finch rolled off of DL, whose grip had gone completely slack after less than a minute, and shakily pushed himself onto his knees.

"…Devil Lad?" he uttered weakly, his body and mind in shock.

There was no answer.

Panicking, Finch whacked at Devil Lad's shoulder, shouting unnecessarily loudly, "DEVIL LAD!" right in front of his face.

No response.

Finch's heart raced, and he felt helpless and guilty as he stared at what he now assumed to be his friend's lifeless body. Quickly, he picked up the teen's arm and checked his wrist for a pulse – nothing.

"Jesus Christ," he choked, his voice cracking, "You – you're dead. You… died to save me."

No, he said in his mind, No fucking way. I will not have this – you can't be dead! I've never even seen you properly injured! "You can't die," he told the dead boy, frustrated. "Get up! There's too much I don't understand – too much we haven't done! Get UP, Devil Lad!" In his fury, he beat at the damp soil, feeling hot tears well in his eyes. He hadn't cried in… years. Why was he crying over this? The guy had kept huge secrets from him since the day they met – he knew next to nothing about him! But it destroyed him inside to see Devil Lad dead.

"What am I supposed to do now, DL?" he struggled in barely even a whisper, hanging his head and forcing back an onslaught of tears. But even now, his curiosity about the boy's face got the better of him, and he looked tempted by his mask. "I have to know now," he said, as if giving the deceased and himself excuses.

Reaching carefully, Finch gently lifted Devil Lad's mask up. It was too shadowed to see his face well, so he moved it aside.

Finch knew he was blushing.

Devil Lad was extremely gorgeous, much like a male model. His lips were slightly open, and he looked peaceful and… relieved, in a way. Finch now gave himself a reason for bothering the guy about his mask.

He had liked him. A lot. He had liked a boy – a boy with a demon's soul, who died to save his life. And it took seeing his face to realize it.

Fury, embarrassment, guilt, and the worst sorrow he'd ever felt flooded over him; he screamed with all his voice, throwing his head back and grasping Devil Lad's mask in one hand while the other clutched at his pink sweatshirt. Before he fell to weep on DL's chest, he allowed himself to say one thing.

"COME BAAAAAAACK!!"

--------------

"that's your cue," a hunched demon said, holding an arm out toward a bright white portal, "you're lucky you've got that soul. your little boy would be disappointed if you didn't."

"I hadn't even… I didn't even have a clue."

"well, get going – the portal's only open tonight… and it's almost midnight."

"I'm coming, Finch," Devil Lad muttered purposefully, stepping into the light.

---------------

Gasping for air, Devil Lad's previously deceased body sat bolt upright, knocking Finch off his stomach and into his lap; Finch jumped, scrambling backward in shock and horror.

"Devil Lad??"

"You okay, Finch? You didn't get hurt, did you?"

"But – you were dead!"

DL shrugged. "Weirder shit has happened." Finch didn't think so, but he said nothing on this.

The recently revitalized teenager seemed to suddenly noticed he could see more peripherally than usual, and a hand flew to his face, checking for – "Where's my mask?" he demanded brusquely, searching feverishly around himself for it.

"…Something's wrong with your eyes," Finch noted quietly, hiding Devil Lad's mask behind his back. "Where'd your irises go – and the white parts?"

"What?" Clearly, he was unaware that his eyes were shrouded entirely in pitch black.

"Are they always like that?"

Frowning, the black-eyed part-demon lowed, "Give me my mask, Finch."

"…Why'd you come after me?"

Ignoring the question, Devil Lad remembered the eyes' consequences and crawled toward Finch menacingly. "Give it back." Backing the confused and scared-looking redhead into a tree trunk, he took the boy's free hand and pulled his entire body closer, drawing up to him so they were face-to-face. "Unless you wanna look at these every time you look at me." The all-black was disconcerting, but when Finch only stared into his eyes, DL knew he couldn't be angry with him anymore. "…Are you okay? Did I absorb enough of the impact?"

"…Why'd you do it?"

Leaning into him, the taller boy whispered, "Cuz I like you too much to let you die."

"You died!" Finch countered.

"Broke my neck and spine." Moving his shoulder in a small circle, a loud pop sounded from his spine. "Yup. Hurts like a motherfucker – but I don't die like that, exactly. You do, so -- are you hurt?"

Finch gawked disbelievingly. "I'm fine, but how can you ask me that when you just rose from the dead?!"

"I came back for you, dumbass."

Silence. Their eyes burnt into each other's as they locked gazes.

"…How do I redeem you?" Finch asked quietly, "You mentioned it earlier, but I don't get it."

"It's…" In one lightning-fast movement, he reached behind the other boy, took his mask, and put it on his face again, earning a skeptical frown from Finch. "…Complicated. And a lot to ask for."

Squirming a bit under him, the redhead grumbled. "I'll stay as long as I have to. You're gonna leave soon anyway."

Devil Lad's mask stared at him again. But he lifted it and watched Finch blankly for a moment with his unnerving black eyes; Finch was mesmerized. "…Technically, I've already got half the work done."

Taking Finch's head in both hands, Devil Lad gently climbed atop him and pressed their lips together. Finch didn't resist, but didn't partake either, flailing his arms almost comically at his sides; DL released his head and tenderly took his hands, lacing their fingers together and putting them at Finch's sides as he pushed himself further into his kiss. Devil Lad didn't know if this was his best idea, but he was too relieved, too grateful that the smaller boy hadn't been hurt that he couldn't control the desire he'd kept hidden for so long. Finch had no clue about how he'd wanted so badly to protect him, to kiss him the way he was now. For the first time in a long time, the older boy was glad he had a demon's soul.

The redhead found himself at a loss for an excuse to push him off or fight to get free – normally, his thoughts would be screaming, "Danger, Finch, DANGER!" and telling him to nail Devil Lad with a swift uppercut to the gut, yelling obscenities and homophobic slurs all the while. This was the kind of lust for someone else – Finch wasn't gay!

…Was he?

Without meaning to, Finch moved in time with Devil Lad, pressing a little back; thrilled he wasn't being rejected, DL began urging Finch toward the ground, moving to lie fully on top of him. They seemed to flow as the younger teen succumbed to the motion, ending up flat on his back with Devil Lad's hands supporting his weight just above his shoulders. The taller boy was heavy, but not the kind of heavy that felt like a burden; Finch realized he didn't want anyone else's body on his when DL eagerly poked against his lips with his tongue, waiting for an invitation into the shorter boy's mouth. Opening slightly, Finch felt a rush of adrenaline pump through him as Devil Lad's tongue met him. Blood flooded south, and he felt himself blush at the erection/

Yup. He was definitely gay.

Devil Lad, feeling Finch's face grow hot, angled himself a little lower, and to his surprise, discovered a boner equal to his own. The pressure on their zippers made them tense, and Finch seized the back of the raven-haired boy's head and yanked him closer; DL slipped one hand under the shorter boy's neck, arching his head up and running his tongue along the roof of his mouth. Finch gasped internally as he learned something new about what he liked in a kiss.

Delighted with Finch's reaction, Devil Lad repeated the motion, almost unconsciously snaking a hand down the boy's shirt, enjoying the little shivers to no end. He felt a cool hand slide from gripping his hair down the back of his neck, and without thinking, brought his knee up to Finch's crotch.

"Do you remember," Devil Lad said between breaths and kisses, "a few years ago when Nips' boyfriend punched you cuz Moochie took her bra?"

Finch moaned shortly in response, excited and terrified of DL's knee placement, kissing the older boy again.

"I really wanted to kill him on the spot. I didn't know why, though, so I didn't. I figured it out only two Halloweens ago – who you were to me, and who you were supposed to be to me."

Finch paused in fiddling with the hem of Devil Lad's sweatshirt and furrowed his brow. "The redemption thing?" he asked, recalling cryptic remarks from earlier. "…You said I was supposed to redeem you or something, and then –" He sat up, using his elbows as props. "—And then you said you've already done half the work. So what the hell does that mean?"

"What, you can't tell?"

Finch stared at Devil Lad cynically. "Enlighten me," he said flatly.

Devil Lad frowned, staring into Finch's blue-green eyes with his demonic, pitch black own. Setting a hand on the side of his face, DL whispered, "I fell in love with you."

"…What?"

"Redemption for a demon's soul comes from shared love."

Silence. Devil Lad felt his heart sink. Stupid, he scolded himself, you scared him! You admitted to being part-demon, came back to life after a fatal fall, and started making out with him – there's no way he wouldn't freak out.

"You… love me? Dude."

Snapping his head up from having unintentionally hung it in shame, DL raised his eyebrows. "Yyyesss?" he responded unsurely.

"Well, I don't love you."

Devil Lad drooped slightly. "Yeah. Sorry—"

"But I know I like you more than just a friend would."

"…Are you joshin' me?" DL questioned disbelievingly.

"Not too skeptical," Finch said sarcastically, "Cuz I obviously get my kicks by messing with your head."

"Finch…"

"Devil Lad." Pushing himself up and tugging his legs awkwardly out from under DL, Finch swallowed a thousand other questions and only asked one. "How long have you supposedly felt like this?"

"Probably since the day I met you."

"We were little kids!"

Devil Lad shrugged, moving away from the redhead dejectedly. "Yeah, well, it's not like I wanted to bone you at the time," he objected.

"So you want to 'bone me' now?"

Snapping his head in Finch's direction, Devil Lad burned bright red, his blackened eyes going wide. "Uh – I, uh…" He looked sheepishly away, pulling his hood lower over his head and shoving his hands in his pocket. Finch waited, arms once again crossed. "…I got nothin'."

"Never mind. This 's a lot to take in besides." Leveling himself to his feet and readjusted his scarf, scratching his temple awkwardly. "Look, Devil Lad," he struggled, "you're leaving soon, right?"

"Depends," he answered slowly.

"Same time next year?"

"Count on it."

"But – not before then?"

"…Depends," he said again, quieter.

"On?" Finch came over and stood next to him, looking down at his hood.

Devil Lad slowly rose to stand, scooping up his devil mask and putting it on. He turned cautiously, feeling Finch's gaze follow him – he could tell the boy was a bit disappointed to have to talk to a mask again. Looming over him, having grown two inches taller, DL lowed ominously, "Whether or not you want me to."

Leaning back as the masked boy leaned in, Finch frowned. "I do," he said sharply.

"Good. Then… we'll see." Spinning on his heel and shoving his hands in his pocket, he started walking swiftly away. "Don't forget to find your skull mask," DL called casually over his shoulder, waving one hand.

"… Serious bullshit," Finch muttered bitterly, running up behind him and whacking his arm. "Hey! No Houdini crap, okay? Seriously – you'd better come around before next Halloween, or I will find you."

"Oo, I'm scared now," Devil Lad teased, chuckling. A swell of relief bubbled in his stomach and spread to the rest of his body, relaxing tensed muscles. Finch really didn't hate him. "Gonna follow me all the way to Hell?" he joked.

"You wouldn't let me." Finch's eyebrow rose skeptically. "So you do go back to Hell after Halloween."

Devil Lad froze mid-step and turned to face Finch. "I'm going to say… no."

"Oh, really."

"It's not… technically Hell. Kinda like how I'm not technically human anymore."

"Huh."

"Hard to explain."

"Devil Lad," Finch intervened with a sigh, "If you don't come back for a year… what do you expect me to do?"

"…I'm not following."

Throwing his arms up in exasperation, Finch groaned. "You can't come out as both nonhuman and gay, come back from the dead, tell me I'm supposed to redeem you and then disappear for 12 months – it's not fair!"

"'Fair'? Since when has anything been fair, Finch?" Devil Lad spat, suddenly angry. "All we're good for is bloodlust and horniness!" he added bitterly, regretting taking an inner resentment out on Finch. "I'm not saying I'm a stranger to those—"

"Ha. How could you be?"

"But I never hear the end of it at home. Which I am not getting into," said flatly to Finch's opened mouth, which closed again.

"Just answer me this: You're coming back, right?"

Watching him for signs of signs of mockery and finding none, Devil Lad murmured, "Without fail, dude. I can't just leave you alone."

Finch smiled faintly. "Alrightythen." DL began walking away, leaving Finch alone. "WAIT!" he blurted.

The boy with a demon's soul turned slightly. "Yeah?"

"Thanks. For saving my life, for telling me stuff – y'know, everything."

Under his mask, Devil Lad smiled. "No problem, Finchy."

So yeah. That was the first installment of x-Redeeming A Demon-x. =3

Hope you liked it. =D Please comment and... stuff. I'm new to actually having an account; before now I just read fanfics, never really looked at feedback and whatnot. So this'll ALL be a new experience for me. X3

Thanks! 3