Author's Note: Yeah, so I give Pig-Pig a name in here… Preeeetty sure it's not his real name, cuz I don't think they ever give it. I know it's dorky, but please go with it. XD

When I was typing this, I kept using "him" instead of "his," like I was Tia Dalma or something… it was weird. XD But I fixed it, so don't worry.

Thanks for readin'! ^_^ Hope it's satisfactory at least.

A month ago, Finch had been discussing ways to sabotage St. Valentine's Day with Spencer, a.k.a., Mister Kitty, but now that the holiday loomed only a few sunrises away, he was trying to remember if they'd made any official plans. Some part of him – a recently activated part – sincerely hoped they hadn't, while an older, more juvenile part couldn't wait to wreak havoc on the infamous day of love and couples. It seemed unlikely, however, since the day the two best friends had begun to concoct a brilliant scheme, a mysterious, heart-stopping "stranger" had finally come to be properly in the redhead's life. The clever teen was reevaluating his annual tradition of ruining everyone's heart-shaped holiday, as he suddenly found himself wanting to join the ranks of starry-eyed saps everywhere… he wanted to spend it with someone special…

I should ask DL if he wants to do something special, the permanently scarf-ed boy pondered dazedly as he walked past a poster in the hall advertising candy-grams. Then he realized how cliché the thought sounded, even just in his head, but as the boy rolled his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose at himself, he caught another thought sneaking in.

Devil Lad was guiding him down a narrow hallway – Finch recognized it as the odd corridor coming off his English class, currently only used for homecoming decoration storage – wearing his classic pink hooded sweatshirt, his devil mask hanging limply with its frozen, mad grin in his free hand. The taller boy tossed aside the hoisted him onto a clear countertop and leaned into him. Their lips met in a hot fever, and Devil Lad held the side of his flushed face so gently, so honestly that the smaller boy had no choice but to melt into him. Seizing his hood and wrenching it down, Finch took a fistful of the part-demon's silken black hair and pulled him closer, opening his mouth slightly and accepting the hot tongue that eagerly pushed in. DL's warm hand snaked up the back of his shirt before plunging beneath the waistline of his tight pants, teasing the lining of his underwear before sneaking past and squeezing; Finch moaned and flinched, grasping his boyfriend's hair tighter and grazing his scalp with his nails.

"The fuck are you dreamin' about?" came a brusque, distrusting voice.

Falling back to earth, Finch blinked rapidly, shaking his head as if to shake off his embarrassing fantasy. "Y—what?" he slurred.

Spencer, Finch, Tommy (a.k.a. Pig-Pig), and Devil Lad sat at a round lunch table, with Devil Lad sitting silently at Finch's side, unseen by the other two; Finch had managed to go through the motions of reaching the lunchroom, buying lunch, and sitting down while lost in his daydream. Spencer and Tommy both stared unsurely at him, who had only moments ago been staring numbly in front of him for quite some time with nothing but a distant smirk and vibrant blush. Devil Lad, right up against the distractible guy, watched him carefully, fantasizing himself about what he could've been imagining.

"You've been reading porn, haven'chu?" the short brunette asked, as if slightly put-off.

"Dude, who the fuck reads porn?" Spencer scolded; Tommy flushed light pink and looked away. "Nah, if anything, Finch's been watching some steamy stuff…" Grinning at his own pervy recollections, the blonde waggled his eyebrows suggestively. "Huh, huh?"

Cheeks still burning, Finch sighed with exasperation. "Whatever you say, sicko."

"I'm surprised porn actually occurred to you, Piggy," Spencer commented snidely, shoving the tiny boy's shoulder almost proudly. "You're learning!"

While the two went off on some mindless squabble, Devil Lad leaned into Finch's ear. "Were you thinking what I'm thinking?" he challenged slyly, in what was on the verge of becoming his sexy voice. You could hear his delighted smirk.

"Unlikely – yours is probably dirtier," Finch retorted knowledgably in a voice only he could hear, folding his arms and keeping his gaze on his arguing friends. His nearly invisible lover chuckled in amusement.

"I'm gonna say yes." An arm slipped casually under the younger teen's neon blue shirt and around his waist. DL leaned in further. "Is that so wrong?"

Heart going into overdrive at the placement of Devil Lad's warm hand on his stomach, Finch smirked anxiously. "I didn't say that," he murmured, tensing the tiniest bit as damp, hot lips pressed into his jaw line.

"…Valentine's Day?"

"What?" Finch blurted awkwardly, jumping a little in his seat and pulling away from Devil Lad as selective hearing resulting in the holiday's mention from Spencer distracting him. "What about Valentine's Day?" he reiterated.

Momentarily thrown off-kilter, the blonde had to pause before focusing on Finch, as if he'd just remembered he was there. "Wanna do something about it?" he suggested mischievously, glancing around with shifty azure eyes and moving in closer to his redheaded friend. "Another prank, like last year's dead doves in the candy-gram deliveries? Duh?"

An unfamiliar hesitation stopped his immediate, would-have-been-enthusiastic reply, and Spencer was instantly aware of it. "I dunno…" Finch eventually said, avoiding his narrowed gaze. "Maybe we're getting too old for this."

"That's bullshit, Finch," the dirty-minded teenager spat, glaring suspiciously. He's never thought twice about sabotaging Valentine's… Why now? "Unless…" he thought aloud, expression flattening as a strangely disturbing possibility cropped up in his practically one-track mind. "…You've got yourself a girl." Something sounded wrong about that sentence. "Finch."

"No," Finch admitted easily, smirking to himself with the secret truth. "I most definitely do not have myself a girl." At his side, Devil Lad snorted.

"Than why not?" Spencer demanded hotly, not buying his words.

The disbelief in his friend's voice made coming up with an excuse more difficult than it should've been. "Uh…" he began unsurely.

Something warm touched the skin just above the line of his pants, and Spencer and Tommy steadily grew glassy-eyed, losing interest in what Finch had to say, instead becoming engrossed in a porn mag the taller of the two produced suddenly, recalling its existence. As they leaned conspiratorially forward, placing the dirty magazine between them on the bench as if their redheaded friend wasn't there at all. With a thrill shooting through him, Finch allowed his head to be gently turned, and his lips to be sweetly kissed. Devil Lad had been abusing his contact-spreading Illusion as of late, making the shorter boy disappear to others whenever he pleased.

Pulling back briefly, the boy with a demon's soul smirking triumphantly at his partner's panting. "I sensed the conversation was getting a little too awkward for you," he explained, needlessly justifying his actions. "Thought I'd help out."

"Am I supposed to thank you?" Finch teased. "You want a reward or something?" he said, though it wasn't clear if it was a dare or not.

Devil Lad took it as one anyway. "Well, since you're offering…"

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Spencer was vaguely aware of some inkling of jealousy in his gut. He was not aware, however, of Devil Lad leading Finch into the hall and toward the nearest empty classroom. The only logical explanation – and the blonde wasn't big on logic – was that Finch had finally found someone. And for some reason, the idea of Finch being with someone – holding hands, kissing, even screwing – seriously made him invidious. Finch was his best friend, his partner in crime, his brains of the outfit! If Finch suddenly started occupying his time with some girl, where would that leave him? What about poor ol' me?! He flustered in his head.

The former Pig-Pig watched his friend fumble silently in his own head, worried that he might do something stupid; Spencer was notorious for such things, and even Tommy could figure that Finch wouldn't be there to compromise his idiocy. While Tommy was dumb, Spencer was stupid.

"Spencer?" he tried to ask, but the blonde waved him off, frowning in thought. Tommy felt his heart drop into his stomach, dejected.

Well, this won't do at all. Spencer was having weird feelings about a guy – FINCH, no less. He was going to have to do something about it, and there were only two options: Find the unlucky bitch and rip her to shreds with the nearest pair of scissors, or… Spencer was never one to turn down a chance for sexual stimulation, and he'd be DAMNED if gender stopped him.

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There was something surreal about pressing the one you love up against a wall and kissing the crap outta them – a kind of trippy ecstasy, like he'd taken a dozen stimulants with the color warping chemical removed. DL didn't actually know from experience what drugs were like (they were just as easy to come by in Hell as they were on the surface), but he imagined the good ones felt like this. Finch's hands were in his hair, fisting and stroking, fueling his desire; his own hands slid lower down the younger boy's back, feathering over the skin above his belt. Oh, how he wished he could go lower! But the redhead was still too nervous to let him touch there, so he held back respectfully, as hard as it was.

"Devil… Lad?" Finch tried, mouth still under attack by the hooded teen's tongue. "Wanna… do something… for Valentine's Day?" he asked bashfully.

The question was so uncharacteristic, the taller boy gave a short laugh. "I never thought those words would – could come out of your amazing mouth."

"How do you know it's amazing?" the redhead interrogated, "Unless you've kissed someone else before?"

"Why should I have to compare to know it's amazing?"

The shorter boy considered this, admitting to himself he was being stupidly jealous of nothing, and slightly girly. "Right. Sorry." Devil Lad's fingertips ghosted over his neck, taking hold of his scarf; he loosened it leisurely, making Finch suck in quickly with anticipation. "Thank you," he said in a tight, tiny voice.

"You're very welcome," the boy with a demon's soul murmured sensuously, into the smaller boy's neck, planting a kiss on the pale, cool skin. He held his back with splayed fingers, using the other hand to support Finch's head as he craned back to give him access. Smirking proudly, Devil Lad thought on how he'd taught his beloved on how to receive the things he wanted to give him; the redhead was less stubborn about it now. Teasing him with tiny touches of his tongue, he sucked lightly in a place on would expect a vampire to embed his fangs. Finch sighed, his grip on DL's hair slackening and his balance faltering; the taller boy had never done this in the five weeks he'd finally gotten to be with him, and it was a good thing Devil Lad's weight was holding him in place, for he would've melted to the floor if it weren't.

Relishing in the unique, apple-cider-inclined flavor of the boy, Devil Lad gave his newly administered hickey a soft kiss, smiling happily to himself. It was a little reminder of who loved him, and he hoped the younger teenager would be able to recognize that.

"To answer your question," Devil Lad eventually began, abstaining from pressing a thigh in between the redhead's unstable legs, "You were my first kiss, so no worries there." He'd had his eye on him for years, and besides – kissing was basically out of the question for a gay part-demon shrouded in Illusion 364 days out of the year. Holding Finch's free hand to his lips and kissing his chilly fingertips, DL gazed into his green-tinted blue eyes. "I don't plan on experimenting with other mouths just to prove you've got the best, just so you know," the older teen explained with a smirk.

"Good," Finch stated, feeling heat rush to his cheeks under Devil Lad's crimson stare; how many times before January had he dreamed of what those once pitch-black orbs looked like on a regular basis? Every color under the sun had tried out for the part, but he never really thought they'd end up being such a dangerous scarlet. He couldn't help the thrill that raced through him every time he locked gazes with his supernatural boyfriend.

Devil Lad smiled in an uncharacteristically dreamy way. "And yes, Finch. I would love to do something for Valentine's."

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

After school, when Spencer made up his mind, he grabbed Finch's arm and pulled him aside in the hall once they'd left class. The redhead hadn't been subjected to such a rough grip since DL's first desperate moves on him the previous Halloween; Spencer's hold was somehow different, though. It was heavier with another sentiment, a darker one – Finch didn't yet know to call it jealousy.

"Uh, Spencer?" Finch questioned unsurely, tugging his limb back as if personally offended. "Why the hurry?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.

The blonde turned on him swiftly and put both hands on his shoulders, eyes livid with energy and impulsiveness; Finch's brain sent up a little red flag, but he wasn't paying attention, too distracted by Spencer's sudden strength. "…Not here. We gotta be alone," he finally decided, seizing his friend's wrist and dragging him toward the languages hall. The slightly smaller boy looked over his shoulder and appeared to mouth to nobody, "I'll be right back."

Slipping inside a classroom as a teacher locked the door before shutting it, Spencer rushed Finch to the blackboard, decided it wasn't good enough, and brought him instead to along table – the only one in the room without a chair attached to it. "Yeah," he declared aloud, sitting his friend down.

"You got a girl?" he asked bluntly, staring point blank.

Finch blinked. Didn't they already have this conversation? "Uh, I told you no."

"Cuz you're actin' like it." His crystal blue gaze bore into slightly greener eyes. "I know you, man, and you never turn down a chance to put dead bird's in preps' lockers and make it mean something." Slamming his hands down on either side of the redhead's hips, the blonde otherwise known as Mr. Kitty leaned in menacingly. "Spit it out – you like someone, don'chu?" he challenged, relentlessly following Finch as he turned slightly away.

"Jesus, you're nosy today. What gives?" the barely shorter boy mumbled disapprovingly, frowning. Something wasn't right – he could see some strange determination in his good friend's usually bored eyes. Tread lightly, Finch told himself, Something's about to go down. He pushed Spencer's shoulder back with one hand, supporting his weight with the other. "And dude, back off."

In a surprising show of agility and muscle, the other teenager seized his wrist swiftly, wrenching it past his head and bringing Finch closer to his face, unaware of the jolt of panic it sent through the smaller boy's veins. "Who is it?" he demanded through clenched teeth, possessiveness leaping into his actions. "Is it Monica?!"

"No! It's not fucking Monica!" Finch shouted, frustrated and frightened at Spencer's heat. "I don't do freaky religious chainsaw chicks!" He tried pulling his arm back.

"THEN WHO IS IT?!" the blonde yelled forcefully, bringing the boy's arm down.

"NONE OF YOU MOTHERFUCKING BUSINESS, PUSSY CAT!!" Finch raged in return, suddenly furious, his face flushing as he scowled. He almost wanted to sock him, but refrained. "What the hell does it matter to you, anyway?!"

"Don't leave me behind, goddammit!" the larger teen snapped, reaching into his back jeans pocket. "Some girl over your friends? What the hell?!"

"I told you, there is no gir—" he began, but was cut off abruptly by the sound on clicking metal, his wrists suddenly cold. Looking down, he saw two pairs of handcuffs attach him to either table leg, and shook his hands experimentally. "Where did you get – what the hell?!" he questioned incredulously, anxiety growing. "Spencer, what do you think you're do—"

Not for the first time, he was interrupted; the blonde shoved him hard onto the tabletop, crushing the smaller boy underneath him. "Can't have you leaving me," Spencer mumbled childishly, almost pouting with lips only centimeters from the redhead's. "Can't have someone else holding you."

"What?! What kind of logic is that?" Finch protested, wriggling under his friend's weight. "What are you planning to do, exactly? Put me in a cage and keep me locked up forever? You can't just have me all to yourself!" It sounded bizarre to say aloud, not that it was any less bizarre in his head.

"Claim you," he responded darkly.

Finch scoffed. "Friends don't 'claim' each other, Spencer," he pointed out flatly, trying to keep his cool as anger and anxiety built up behind his eyes. "You need help," he added more seriously.

"I 'need' you, Finch," the other boy objected. "You're the leader – how the hell are we gonna get along without you?" he asked in a borderline-hurt voice.

"It's just you and Tommy!" Finch bit back, growing increasingly agitated. "And you can't even see how much you'll 'get along' fine with just the two of you!" he explained, rolling his eyes. "Besides – just cuz I'm with someone else sometimes doesn't mean –"

"So there IS somebody else!"

Jaw clamping shut, Finch ignored the strain on his oddly angled wrists for a moment. He glared coldly at his misbehaving friend. "Yes," he uttered icily.

Shuddering at the boy's newly kindled hostility, Spencer glowered. "Fuck that." He brought his mouth to Finch's, forcing his tongue in immediately; the redhead tensed, turning away as best he could, trying to bring hid fists up to smack some sense into the blonde. Obviously, being as he was cuffed to the table legs, his efforts were for naught, and he didn't want to bite down for fear of drawing blood; he found that all he could do was writhe under his captor. Spencer felt his pulse race as the smaller boy struggled, and a twinge of guilt accompanied his excitement. He should try this sort of thing more often.

Before he knew it, his hands were snaking up Finch's shirt, and he habitually checked for breasts – finding none briefly threw him off, but the rougher feel of Finch's mouth shortly explained his lapse of memory. The smaller boy was trembling, his own mind accusing him of some sort of betrayal; someone other than Devil Lad was kissing him!

…Being touched, too, it seemed. The hand drifting toward his crotch made him suck in a breath; he suddenly discovered the strength enough to sit bolt upright, knocking heads with his attacker, causing them both to cry out.

"Fuck!" Spencer yelped, landing on his butt, which unfortunately for him had gotten less round over the years, and therefore couldn't cushion his fall as much as it could years ago.

"Get off!" Finch shouted, a little late. "Don't touch me!"

"I'm not done yet," Spencer said, shaking his head and pushing himself to his feet. "Who knew I could like guys?" The new surge of unquenchable lust urged him toward his wide-eyed friend once more. "You're showing me brand new horizons," he added almost mockingly, enjoying his position; Finch leaned further and further back as Spencer leaned over him again, the redhead's cuffs clinking as he tried to use his hands. "C'mon, man. Where's your witty reply?"

"Fuck. You." Finch scowled deeply, still shaky with all kinds of hurt.

Shrugging, Spencer went for the shorter boy's lips again, but never reached them; something took hold of the back of his orange shirt's collar and yanked. Stumbling backward, the blonde's brow creased. What the…? he thought, just before a powerful blow nailed the side of his face, sending him flying. Dumbstruck, Finch watched with his mouth agape.

Devil Lad stood with his fist raised, snarling furiously with positively livid eyes. A dark, blood red aura swirled around the outline of his body, like a ruby corona, fading slowly as his breathing steadied and his fury subsided. He looked at his trapped boyfriend with worry and guilt, arms falling heavily at his sides; he worried briefly that he might have scared him. Finch stared numbly back, relief and guilt waiting for him to react. The boy with a demon's soul stepped slowly up to him, and this time the redhead didn't shy away from an advance.

"Are you okay?" Devil Lad whispered, holding the younger boy's face in his big hands. "He didn't hurt you, did he?"

"No," Finch murmured in return, closing his eyes and bumping DL's forehead with his own. "He's not that stupid…"

"He's still pretty stupid," Devil Lad retorted, smirking.

"Jesus FUCK!"

Startled, Devil Lad jumped back from Finch, and the two looked at the blonde, who remained on the floor, gawking at the boy handcuffed to the table. "What happ – did you –?! I swear somebody just punched me!" he exclaimed neurotically. With a firm shake of his head and a groan, the former Mister Kitty stared wide-eyed at his hands; he shivered, and screwed up his expression. "What the hell am I doing?" he asked himself lowly.

"Aren't I supposed to say that?" Finch interjected bitterly, grimacing. "Oh. Wait. I already did!"

"Who the fuck decked me?!" Spencer sidestepped, beginning to stand with wobbly legs, guilt still setting in. "They've got one hell of a right hook," he added, shamelessly impressed; Finch watched dully as the boy started pacing distractedly. "An invisible attacker. Someone who doesn't want me to touch you… maybe arrived on the scene late?" he mumbled to himself. Gasping dramatically, he whirled to point an accusatory finger, causing the redhead to furrow his brow questioningly. "Was it Devil Lad??"

Finch's mouth fell open slightly. You have got to be kidding me, he thought in disbelief. "W-what?" he stuttered stupidly. From the other side of the room, the teenager in question hovered over once more, interested but cautious.

"Devil Lad!" the notorious pervert reiterated. "That crazy bastard would hit me and disappear – fucking ninja! How'd he even get i—" He froze, shocked; when he looked at the doorway, he saw the door had splintered and fallen in. "HA!" he shouted suddenly. "That proves it!"

The smaller boy narrowed his gaze and eyed his strangely behaving friend. "Uh… what?" Glancing at the broken door, he was close to being a little embarrassed. "How does that prove anyth—"

"Oh, come ON, sunshine!" Spencer scoffed, starting to seem like himself again, and less like a best-friend-molester. He frowned pointedly. "You haven't noticed?"

"Noticed what?" he challenged, suspicious.

"Dude, how do you think you got out of all those final scrapes every Halloween?" the blonde threw back without missing a beat. "Four years ago? With the zombies, and we tried to blow up the town?" Finch shut his mouth. "Who do you think made sure you didn't go up with it?"

Finch shook his head. "That was… I just got far enough away," he tried.

"No," Spencer protested testily, "I just got far enough away. Devil Lad caught you as the blast hit!" Finch's blue-green orbs widened slightly. "Practically tackled you out of the way, and HOW do you thank him? You pass out!" He paused. "Granted, your landing still wasn't very soft. But I swear, that kid is fire-proof or somethin'!" Mr. Kitty didn't notice DL's unnoticeable snicker. "And the next year! How did you manage to escape the range of that stupid temporary virus?"

"I…" Finch started weakly, not bothering to continue.

"And only two years ago, after that vampire and werewolf battle?"

"Lycan."

"WHAT. EVER. Who do you think stopped that wolf when it finally found you? And lemme guess." He paused for effect, crossing his arms and frowning with exasperation. "You did something last Halloween that should've gotten you killed, but didn't. When you went off just with DL an' I went on with Pig-Pig, you somehow survived… I dunno. A fatal fall?" he suggested out of speculation. Finch blushed brightly, and the blonde perked. "Dude. Seriously?"

"It was an accident," the redhead protested bashfully.

"So were half the other things, and he still saved you!"

Embarrassed and unable to make eye contact, Finch mumbled, "Yeah…"

Falling silent, Spencer watched his friend carefully, the feeling of treachery and jealousy engulfing his heart, tightening around it mirthlessly. Here he was, explaining how awesome his rival was – and knew it himself as fact – after molesting the object of his confused affections and his best friend. The blonde knew everything he'd just put Finch through was wrong and unfair, and that everything Devil Lad had done for the boy was why he should give up. It didn't take a genius to figure out the devil-masked enigma had always liked Finch "like that." Spencer felt stupid.

"Shit, man," the cat=loving teen groaned, "I'm sorry/" When Finch finally looked at him, Spencer shuffled closer. "I'm really fucking sorry I did this. I know I shouldn't 've, but I don't know what I've been thinking lately. Just – just thought you'd forget about your friends if there was somebody." Without meeting his gaze, the blonde stepped past his silent friend, dropping something small in his lap. "You don't hafta talk to me again."

"Spencer!" Finch called, too late – the other teenager had already jumped over the broken wood and swung himself out the doorway, leaving him almost alone. Almost.

"Don't think I forgot you were here," Finch grumbled to the seemingly empty room. "You were the topic of the last conversation…" A warm palm rested on his hand, and his blue-green gaze focused on a similar scarlet one. "Devil Lad."

"Finch," echoed the boy with a demon's soul. "Looks like Spencer's feeling as shitty as he should."

"He's probably gonna find Pig-Pig…"

"I'm sorry I didn't get here sooner," he went on regretfully, jaw tightening in frustration.

Shaking his messy-haired head, the shorter boy said, "It's not your fault. I shoulda noticed something was wrong – he's been acting funny since lunch. Funnier than usual."

Devil Lad leaned in, shaking his hooded head more vigorously than his boyfriend had. "No, it is – I should've followed you guys immediately. I waited too long," he muttered hotly, looking away quickly and tensing. "That moronic cat touched you!" he said, scandalized.

"He didn't get very far," Finch replied, wondering vaguely why he was defending his attacker. Devil Lad's scowl cleared that up – Finch was pretty sure DL would turn homicidal if he found reason enough.

"Yeah? Well, he tried," the darker boy lowed, the hostility in his expression clear.

"Devil Lad…" the younger began unsurely, searching for a subject change; the boy dropped his head onto his shoulder, letting out a sigh.

"What," he responded flatly, still immensely unhappy with Spencer, though his tone softened slightly with the redhead resting on him.

"…You really did all those things?" he asked timidly, pulse quickening. "You've always been the reason I make it to November first, haven't you?" Why was it so hard to understand that?

"We're always out past midnight," Devil Lad began, settling, reveling in the warmth of Finch's blush, "So maybe I'm the reason you see the sunrise." There was an uncommon rush of blood to his cheeks, and DL shifted his weight.

Relieved that the older boy was relaxing, Finch moved closer into him, as much as his restraints would let him. "How come you never told me?" he quietly dared to question.

Setting a hand on the side of the smaller teen's face and easing him back slightly, Devil Lad gave him a small frown. "I wasn't sure if it would overwhelm you or not. Last year was a lot by itself, right? Besides, it was sort-of like the Illusion…"

"I couldn't 've noticed until I was ready," Finch clarified tightly.

"Let's get out of here," he continued dismissively. Pushing himself up, he turned to go. "Being in here won't help me get a grip…"

"Uh," the shorter boy said, pointedly shaking his cuffed wrists and causing them to clink. "Little help?" he drawled expectantly, raising an eyebrow.

Glancing over his shoulder, Devil Lad spotted where Mister Kitty left the little key. A slow, mischievous smirk crept onto his handsome face. He waited a beat.

As the motionless Devil Lad began to vanish, Finch's eyes widened. "Devil Lad!" he hissed nervously, struggling against his metal bonds.

"HOLY shit!" he shouted in surprise, his lips stolen a split second later as DL took the redhead's face with both hands for a deep, long kiss. The taller boy quickly staked dominance, pushing his impatient tongue into his boyfriend's mouth, bringing one hand down the side of his neck.

"No," murmured the dark boy. "I think I'll have my way with you first," he teased deviously, moving his hand from his lover's neck to the boy's thin chest, ghosting over his nipples. At the redhead's anticipating shiver, Devil Lad felt a spike of lust, and with a fueled fervor, he pressed harder into Finch's hot mouth.

The taller teenager's increasing enthusiasm made Finch's blood race north and south, and he found his hunger grower in time with Devil Lad's; he bobbed back and forth, nibbling occasionally at the boy's upper lip as he in turn bit gently at his lower. Wanting so desperately to touch his demon-souled partner, the younger of the two strained to push himself forward, into DL, when a warm hand snuck under the front of his shirt, and eager fingers pinched the nub that had hardened not too long ago. Finch felt his strength dissolve, and he melted as Devil Lad happily rubbed the erect pink stubs, using his other hand to slowly – teasingly – loosen the scarlet scarf around the object of this affections' neck. At the low moan, the older boy growled, dropping the soft scarf and dragging his fingers through the redhead's messy, gravity-defying locks.

"D-Devil Lad," came a staggered, breathless voice through their urgent kisses.

"Hmmm?" the hooded boy encouraged, bringing his wet lips down over the smaller teen's jaw-line, brushing them lightly over the sensitive skin on his neck.

Panting for a moment, Finch craned his neck back, wanting more thoughtlessly. "Devil Lad, c-c'mon. You – you gotta let me touch you…!" he pleaded weakly, cuffs clinking meaningfully, his monstrous erection commanding him.

Chuckling, DL smirked, licking up along the side of the boy's trachea; he tasted like apples, with the slightest hint of cinnamon, and it was the part-demon's favorite flavor. "Is this the part I tell you I might go a lot further if you touch me?"

Whimpering at the muscle tasting his neck, Finch bit his bottom lip, summoning might enough to thrust his knee significantly into Devil Lad's firm crotch; emitting a small, stunned gasp, the boy with a demon's soul paused, a delighted grin playing on his amazing face. Pulling away a bit, he gazed up at his redheaded boyfriend through pitch-black lashes, smirking excitedly. Finch flushed even brighter than he already had been when DL leaned into him, and his eyes widened unsurely.

"You asked for it, Finchy," DL said quietly, reaching for the seat of the boy's pants; for a split second, Finch panicked, but the taller boy held up a tiny silver key and raised an eyebrow. "Not yet, Finchy," he teased, amused.

Finch opened his mouth to retort, but a soft click and the release of one of his wrists turned it into a sigh of relief. Once the other was set free as well, he breathed, "Finally."

He lunged, pouncing full-force into the shocked part-demon, who fell back on contact, thrown off-guard and off-balance, taking his attacker down with him.

Straddling his hips, the shorter teen lavished his taller partner with kisses, bringing his hands frantically up and down the toned chest and abdomen, through the silky raven hair under the gray hood, and finally resting firmly on the sides of the face he wished he could endlessly gaze at, maybe making up for all the years it had been obscured by a grinning red mask. Devil Lad stared blankly back, still in shock, but shivered as his brain finally caught up with his nerves; he smiled coyly.

"Well, this is an interesting development," he commented lightly, blushing a little bit. "I can honestly say I didn't see that coming."

Finch grinned triumphantly. "Shut up and kiss me, demon boy."

Grabbing the back of Finch's neck, Devil Lad sat himself up and brought the boy's lips crashing into his; closing his eyes, Finch fell forward as Devil Lad eased them both back to the floor, mouths pumping together shamelessly. Feeling his resolve melt as the human's erection pressed just above his own, Devil Lad's hands drifted over the boy's hips, itching to dip under the denim but hesitant to give Finch any reason to distrust him. Feathering up his bare back instead, DL waited patiently.

Sensing something disappointed in his lover's movements, Finch pushed himself up and supported himself with his elbows above Devil Lad's shoulders. "Hey, DL?" he murmured carefully.

Blinking slowly, the boy with a demon's soul angled his head. "Yeah?"

"…You can… I mean, if you wanted…" Finch struggled, pulling a face with indecision.

"What?"

"You can go lower, if you want," the redhead blurted swiftly, burning vibrant red. He said it so fast, however, that it came out for like, "Yookingoloweriffyoowant." He almost regretted saying it.

A genuinely happy smile played on Devil Lad's delicious lips; Finch's blush grew brighter. "Really??" the older boy breathed. When Finch nodded quickly, Devil Lad couldn't help but think he was hopelessly cute.

Crimson eyes flashing, the part-demon smirked. "Are you sure?" In a lightning-quick movement, he reached into Finch's jeans and cupped a buttock; with the surprised, perky expression the redhead gave, DL let his restraint fade away. Finch gasped and fell onto his chest as he followed the curve of his ass and came forward, tracing scribbles on the skin under his navel.

"De-Devil L-Lad…!" he stammered, flinching at the ticklish sensation, grasping onto the older teen's sweatshirt and raising his hips slightly. "W-wait!" he begged, squeezing his eyes shut tightly.

Pulling his fingers back, Devil Lad obeyed anxiously. "You want me to stop? You don't have to let me do this now…" he reluctantly allowed.

Devil Lad was gentle. He was soothing, in a way, and the only person he wanted to touch him. Why would letting him actually touch him be so wrong? The boy had made it clear he really loved him, and he obviously didn't want to hurt him… For some reason, he just couldn't get over a dirty feeling, letting himself be touched. But, why?

Preternatural eyes widening in panic, the boy with a demon's soul sat up in urgency, gently wrapping his arms around his shaking partner; the shorter teen had suddenly started crying. Flustered, Devil Lad whispered worriedly, "Finch? Finchy, what's wrong?? I won't do that again if you don't like—"

"It's not that," Finch interrupted, hurt that DL would think it was his fault again. "It's just – there's this thing I have about… about touching – being touched. Like that." Wiping angrily at his tears, Finch huffed out in frustration. "I don't even know why!" he spat bitterly, grinding his teeth together.

Placing a hand on his head, Devil Lad urged the boy to lie on his chest again, easing smoothly back to the tiled floor, closing his eyes and gently stroking his boyfriend's messy orange hair. Clutching at his hoodie for dear life, Finch frowned at himself, pissed that he could ruin their fun like this. But Devil Lad didn't seem to mind after all, he just played with his untamed hair and hummed quietly a unrecognizable melancholy melody.

"…Hey, DL?" came a timid voice.

"Yeah, Finchy?"

"I promise tomorrow won't suck. And I won't cry."

Relieved that his boyfriend had calmed down a bit, Devil Lad smiled at his hairline, nodding and kissing the top of his head. "That's all right, Finchy. There's no hurry."

"…Hey Devil Lad?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

Yes, I KNOW my endings suck. Don't hate me. D= TT_TT