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Dave deflated against the mattress, his hands unclenching. He’d just come inside the demon’s mouth. He didn’t know why it felt so significant, but it did.

He swallowed a couple of times before he panted for air. When was the last time a total top had been so good at giving head? Dave couldn’t think of anyone.

“You had really bad taste in lovers,” Melchom grunted. Before Dave could blink his eyes open, he felt him drape his weight around him, holding him there. “But don’t worry. You’re mine now, Dove.”

“Okay.”

He was aware it was his orgasm-induced brain fog speaking. Dave didn’t care. It was better for everyone if he just enjoyed the relaxed muscles and all those feel-good hormones coursing through his body.

“Can I braid your hair?” He apparently lost a lot of his filter after his head was blown out with an orgasm like that. “It’s gotten all unruly.”

Melchom only huffed. “Fine.”

A smile stretched over Dave’s lips. He perked up more than he would’ve usually been able to after getting head. “I’ll need a brush.”

“Of course.”

“Now?”

Dave was pretty certain the demon rolled his eyes, but he didn’t care. Giddiness filled him as Melchom lifted off the bed and headed to the bathroom. He guessed he’d get the brush from that secret closet—or whatever it was. Dave didn’t have the brain energy to spend on figuring that out right now.

“There’s no secret closet.” Melchom snorted. “It’s a portal.”

“A what?”

Fine, he was back to being more alert—not fully sitting up, but leaning on his elbows and scrunching up his eyebrows. It was something.

“Don’t worry about it.” Melchom came back to the room with a boar bristle hairbrush. “No one can come in from it, and only I can activate it anyway.”

“I wasn’t worried.” He’d just been wrapping his head around the fact that portals were also a thing too. “Wait. Is that how you always manage to sneak in on me?”

“Sometimes.”

Dave huffed. He hated that knowing smirk etched in the demon’s face. It enunciated his scar more, too, adding a hint of not danger exactly, but… something.

“Did King David do that to you then?”

Melchom frowned for a second before all glee faded from his features. “No.”

For once, Dave knew not to push. Instead, he grabbed the demon’s wrist and encouraged him back on the bed.

He might have preened a bit when Melchom just handed him the brush and plopped face-first into the mattress.

“No horns,” he groaned against the pillow.

Dave wouldn’t point out how non-threatening he sounded at the moment.

“I caught that,” Melchom said in that same non-threatening way.

“I don’t care.”

He didn’t. What he cared about was finally getting to run his fingers through the silky mane of silvery white hair to his heart’s content. Dave had always loved hair. It had always been one of his favorite things about church camp—he and a few girls from a neighboring town would run away, and he’d do their hair into all kinds of styles. The counselors either never found out, or they hadn’t dared to say a word.

After he’d gotten all the locks of Melchom’s hair free, Dave started brushing it, loving how shiny it got under his ministrations. He loved the sounds the demon made, too, probably more than he should have.

“Are you gonna fall asleep on me?”

There was no response, only more contented sighs and what sounded dangerously close to purrs as Dave kept brushing.