A demon, a rock star, and wedding bells!
Justin Moore and Kris Starr have their happy ending: a life together, full of magic and music. Justin's always wanted to get married, and ever since Kris proposed, he's thrown himself into wedding planning. But planning a wedding's not easy when the whole world's watching their choices -- including whether to invite Kris's estranged father.
Kris wants Justin to have that perfect day. He'll support the man he loves, whether that means agreeing to carrot cake or writing a new love song or getting excited when Justin shyly wants to wear a wedding dress. But Justin also wants him to reconcile with his father. And Kris loves Justin.
So, with their wedding weeks away, Kris will try to face the ghosts of his past ... with his demon at his side.
"You're smiling," Justin said, sleepy and contented.
"I'm looking at you," Kris said reasonably, and ran a hand along his demon's back: bare skin, as usual more hot than standard human, cuddled up against him in bed. "How'd you even notice? You can't see me."
"I can feel you, though. All pink and fuzzy. Like velvet." Justin, head on Kris's shoulder, nudged a kiss into Kris's collarbone. Kris's whole body tingled with happiness. "My empath. You're happy."
"I am." He was. They were. Here in their penthouse, settled under blankets, amid a chilly night full of clouds and laughter and luminous sex, they were wonderful. "We're getting married in three weeks."
"Yes." Justin pushed himself up a bit, not enough to dislodge the cuddling; he met Kris's eyes. His own were more cinnamon and smoky at the moment, as was all the demon-flame hair; he hadn't bothered wrapping the more human disguise around himself. His fingernails and teeth held just a hint of sharpness, his tiny horns were more solid than usual, and he was beautiful: utterly himself, thoroughly loved and cherished and pleasured in the aftermath of sex and coziness. "About that. I wanted to ask you something."
And Kris had no doubts about Justin or their future, no doubts about their love; no, that was certain and true as the weight of his demon atop him, he knew it, but he did want to know if something wasn't right about the preparations, if Justin needed or wanted something else, if this day wasn't going to be everything his other half had dreamed of --
"Anything. Just ask." He kept arms folded around Justin's slim waist, pleaded, "I can get you anything. Rock star, lots of money, entirely willing to shout at people, just let me know."
"It's nothing you need to fix!" Justin kissed him for it, though, so Kris figured that was a success. "I only thought ... I had something in mind, but then I thought, well, what if you didn't like it after all, and then I thought maybe I should ask ..."
"If it's something you want, I'll love it, love." With some tighter hugging: "You know that." Anything Justin wanted, forever. Anything, for this bright-eyed exuberant fire that'd sparked Kris's aging heart back to life. "Tell me."
"Well ..." Justin got a little flustered and happy, though that might've just been Kris trying to broadcast love and want and profound affirmation his way. "You know I'm wearing a suit for the actual ceremony ... matching yours ..."
"I'd thought about doing this as a surprise, but…just in case…I was thinking of, um. Changing. For the reception. Because…look, gendered clothing is a human idea anyway, I like the way I look in skirts and corsets, I know you know that, um, so I was out with Anna for her last dress fitting and there was this gorgeous dress with all these ruffles and sparkles and that sort of high-low hem and also corset laces and Anna said I should try it on and then they had these lace-up tall boots and anyway I'm not technically human so it shouldn't matter what I wear and also I thought I did look good and then I thought maybe you had a different picture of our wedding that doesn't have me in a dress plus, um, kind of kinky white leather boots and so maybe I could just not change out of the suit after all if --"
"Justin," Kris jumped in, since his demon didn't appear to be pausing for breath, "I love you."
"Um," Justin said, not exactly uncertainly. "I know."
"I love you." He put a hand up, touched the corner of Justin's mouth, did not flinch from pointed teeth, slid the hand up to play with fire-hair, to stroke one gauzy semi-translucent horn. Justin shivered against him; that felt nice, Kris knew. Not outright erotic in the way some other anatomy decidedly was, but sweet and safe: the self Justin hadn't shown anyone, places that'd been so lonely, never touched or caressed by a lover. Not until Kris.
Sometimes that struck him all over again with the force of it. This brilliant man, this wonderful magical brave person, here in his arms. Loving him.
Him. Kris Starr. After everything.
But Justin Moore had looked at him and seen someone worth trusting.