Feline Fallaciousness

By: Silvarbelle

Disclaimer: I don't own Xiaolin Showdown, or any of the characters in it, so don't go whining to someone that I told you I did. ADDITIONALLY, I DID NOT WRITE THIS. SILVARBELLE DID AND ALLOWED ME THE PRIVILEGE OF POSTING IT.

Warning(s): Cursing, relationships between two men, AKA SHOUNEN AI, YAOI, SLASH, HOMOSEXUAL, GAY ROMANCE. This bothers you? Dont' read it. Very simple concept, people.


True to Hannibal's word, Jack never heard a thing while he lay deep in his inebriated sleep. He never felt vibrations through the bed as Chase tumbled off his chest; first down onto the mattress beside him and then, as the feline body morphed and grew out of that shape, down onto the floor. He heard nothing, he felt nothing, until 12 noon on the dot when Hannibal's hex faded away and he blinked awake, startled at being abruptly conscious.

In fact, Hannibal had done more than a simple sleep hex. He'd gone one better and charmed the young human so that Jack wouldn't suffer a horrendous hangover when he finally woke up.

Which made it very easy for Jack to have a panic attack at the realization that a naked human male was sprawled beside him in bed.

With a high-pitched cry, Jack thrashed his way free of the bed. He hit the floor hard, groaning as he was instantly bruised, but he scrambled away from the bed as the other man's head lifted quickly in response to Jack's antics.

Gold eyes peered blearily over the edge of the bed, meeting Jack's frantic crimson gaze in dazed confusion for a few moments before suddenly flaring wide with the apparent return of memory. He tried to sit up quickly, only to groan in obvious discomfort and flop gracelessly down onto the bed again.

Jack made an incoherent sound. Where had this man come from? He was pretty, yeah – in fact, more than pretty! He was beautiful! Practically a god of aesthetic pleasantry! But where had he come from? The last Jack recalled, he'd tumbled into bed, sick and dizzy from alcohol and the knowledge that he would spend the rest of his life alone because of his evil-minion-of-hell cat—

Jack's thoughts whirled to a halt even as his body went ice-cold with terror and pain.

Where was Chase? What had this fucker done to his cat?!

Terror gave way to abrupt and dangerous rage. Jack scrambled up onto his feet and approached the bed, his fists curled and trembling as he glared pure hatred down at the stranger lying atop his blankets.

"Right now, I don't care to know who the fuck you are or if you raped me while I was passed out drunk and vulnerable or anything else except one thing," Jack snarled at the lovely, injured man. "What did you do to my cat? Where is he?!"

The stranger had draped a muscular arm across his eyes to block out the daylight filtering through the single bedroom window. His mouth was visible and Jack watched it wrinkle into a grimace, and then a smile.

"So certain I've done something to him? Why not call the wretched beast?" the man suggested, and Jack shivered at the low, rich, husky sound of the stranger's voice.

He hated the way his heart beat harder and his prick throbbed with interest. For all he knew, this man had murdered his cat and raped him while he was – oh, wait. He was fully clothed and nothing hurt. Okay, so maybe he hadn't been assaulted in his sleep, but that didn't mean the fucker hadn't tried! As for calling out for Chase....

"My cat is very... territorial," Jack snapped. "He wouldn't tolerate a complete stranger forcing his way in here and crawling into my bed. The only way you could still be here and he isn't is if you'd done something to him!"

"Like what?" the man asked, a wicked grin curling his mouth.

"Like... like kill him!" Jack shouted, and bent forward to slam his fists on the mattress, making the bed bounce and tremble slightly. "If you hurt him – if you killed him – I will murder you, do you hear me?!"

"All of that for a mangy feline? Rather than revenge whatever indecency you assume I've visited upon you, you would slaughter me for assaulting your cat?"

Cold, horrible fury filled Jack from the inside out. In that instant, he could have easily killed the smirking bastard lying on his bed and not flinched.

"I love that cat," he said coldly. "I'm just his servant with handy opposable thumbs, but I like him a lot anyway. He's given me more kindness than any stupid fucking human ever has. And if you've taken him away from me..."

"Yes, yes, I know... you'll murder me." The stranger made an incredulous noise. "Imagine, all that fuss over a used-up old demonic feline."

Jack went utterly still. How had this man known...?

Abruptly, the man sat up. His arm fell away from his face and the eyes were at once visible. Very familiar gold eyes looked deep into Jack's shock-wide red eyes.

"Even if someone had tried to kill me," Chase said, smirking at Jack's flabbergasted expression, "he would not have succeeded. Don't you know us cats have nine lives, Spicer?"

Jack sat on one of the chairs that went with the dining table. He had one leg tucked up against him, his arms wrapped loosely around the appendage while he rested his chin on his upraised knee. He was watching the man that had been his cat move around in the living room. The couch and TV had been pushed back against the walls to give Chase plenty of room to do some sort of slow martial arts stretching exercises that he called "Tai Chi." So far, the movements were very pretty and elegant, though Chase wobbled a few times; clearly unused to being an upright bipedal.

Once Jack had gotten over his shock enough to start firing questions at Chase, the man had shaken his head and promised that all would be explained soon. In the meantime, he was going to go take a shower and, while he was at that, would Jack be a dear and cook up a yummy lunch?

Jack hadn't noticed how easily he'd obeyed Chase until he suddenly realized he was in the process of cooking a steak and steaming some vegetables.

After Chase had eaten his meal, complimenting him on how tender the meat was, the cat-turned-man had declared himself in need of "training" and had taken himself off to the living room. Freshly showered, pleasantly full, still absolutely buck-bare-naked, he'd begun doing Tai Chi and all Jack could do was watch.

It was odd to know that this strange, beautiful man had once been his cat. Even as he thought about it, Jack realized that the small, furry feline was gone. He was shocked into making an audible sound of pain at the realization he would probably never hold purring, furry warmth against his chest again or feel the tickle of whiskers during a benevolent head-bonk of affection.

Chase stopped what he was doing when he heard Jack's tiny, pained gasp. He looked over and was surprised to see tears pouring thick and fast down the albino's beard-scruffy cheeks. Immediately, he moved to stand before Jack. Cupping the lovely head in his hands, he forced the young man to look up at him.

"What is it, Spicer?" he asked quietly. "What is wrong?"

Jack shook his head minutely, still held in Chase's grip, and then shrugged. "I just... I just realized that there's no more cat. I'll probably never again feel him – you – curling up on my lap and purring at me."

Chase gave a soft snort of exasperated affection as he stroked Jack's crimson sunset-red hair. "Is that all that bothers you? If you want a pet that badly, we'll get another cat for you to look after."

Surprised, Jack looked up at the (naked! very, very naked!) man who was petting him soothingly. "'We'?"

Chase smirked. "Yes, 'we'. You and I can either go to that pet-supplies store where we got my things or go to the pound or even scour the streets for another stray for you to rescue. Now that I have regained my human form, I am amenable to sharing space with another cat."

The albino man gaped up at his former pet. "Sharing space...? You mean you're gonna... gonna stay with me?"

Chase sighed. "I suppose it's time for that talk. Come over to the couch with me, Jack. I want to be comfortable while I tell you all of what happened last night."

Jack shivered. "I think I need a drink."

Instantly, the beautiful Asian man scowled. He lightly cuffed the side of Jack's head as he growled, "No. No alcohol. Not if you can't drink it in small amounts."

Jack ducked away from the strike. Getting to his feet, he rubbed at his head while glaring at Chase. "Give me a break, alright? The four guys I'd liked enough to try to hook up with all got frightened away by my cat, who has – had – serious territorial issues! I was looking at a lifetime of sexual abstinence while being guarded by a cat who was – is – literally from hell!"

"That's no excuse and, though I do not have my feline form any longer, I am still very territorial, Spicer," Chase declared, crowding into Jack's personal space. "You have been for a long time, and you will remain mine for longer still."


"No. I said: on the couch." With that, Chase wrapped his arm around Jack's waist and firmly escorted the young man over to the couch (which was now back in the middle of the living room and when did that happen?) and settled them both onto it.

"Pushy," Jack grumbled, but he curled up on one end of the couch and sat facing Chase, who took the other end, sprawling gracefully; apparently perfectly at ease with his nudity.

Chase lifted an eyebrow at Jack's comment. The motion drew attention to the breath-taking beauty of the man's face. Jack swallowed roughly. It so was not fair that someone so hot was in his life and there was nothing he could do about it.

"Many centuries ago," Chase began, "I was as you see me now. I was a young man in Ancient China, training to be a Xiaolin monk, of all things. However... it wasn't enough. I was aware that there was more to life than the celibate, subservient lifestyle that I was being trained into. I wanted more. I craved so much. Little by little, I fell to every vice there is, under my teacher's unsuspecting nose. It wasn't until one of my fellow students caught me sneaking into the nearest village for dalliance with a willing female that my wickedness came to light. I was brought before the Grand Master: what you would call the leader of the temple. He tried to punish me, but I wouldn't have it. I fought back against them all... and lost. My tarnished soul was captured by a devil known as Hannibal Roy Bean. He is a wish-granter. For the right price, he'll give you anything you desire. I worked for him for hundreds of years until I finally tired of acquiring souls for him to feed his power. I made a deal with him to escape his hold. I wanted to live a mortal life, free of labor and spoiled beyond compare. Being a devil, he is a consummate trickster. He agreed..."

"...and trapped you in the form of a cat," Jack interrupted as he caught on. "What's more spoiled than a pampered pet?"

Chase smiled and Jack was surprised to see a hint of fang among the strong white teeth.

"Clever," Chase said, nodding agreement. "He did just that, and told me that I had to meet specific requirements to earn my freedom. If I met them, I would live out my days as a spoiled pet."

Jack frowned. "Sounds like you were able to die, then. When you did, where would your soul have gone?"

Chase hesitated, and then grimaced slightly. "I don't know. It bothers me to admit this, but I never thought to ask."

"So... are you mortal now? Or have you always had the ability to change like this?"

Chase shook his head. "No. Remember? I was put into the form of a cat. I had access to certain powers – which I used to frighten away your pathetic would-be suitors – but shape-shifting was not one of them. No: Hannibal gave me back my human body last night because he has been keeping tabs on me... and you."

Jack stiffened in alarm. A hell beast had targeted him?

Chase smirked. "Relax. You're safe. You are mine, now. I have claimed you."

Jack sighed in relief. "That's good to know."

"Yes, well... anyway. Hannibal, being an opportunist, came for a visit last night while you were passed out. He hexed you to remain asleep so he and I could come to an agreement. He helped me to realize certain things I hadn't honestly acknowledge and offered me yet another deal for the chance to claim what I wanted."

"What did you—?" Jack broke off as he recognized the word 'claim'. He stared at the other man with wide eyes. "Me? You wanted me?"

Chase nodded. "I had originally been content to live with you as my 'owner' - though we both know who was really in charge. Then, you started dating and the men you dragged home were... not worthy of you. You were mine and I wanted you to have only the best – or so that's what I told myself." He sighed. "In truth... I had... come to care for you. I resented anything and anyone that took you away from me; I still do. I wanted you to be mine, only mine."

Jack shivered hard. "So that's what happened? Hannibal offered me to you for--"

Chase shook his head. "No. He offered me back my human body in exchange for one million souls—"

"One million!"

"—but not you. Whether or not you will be mine depends on how thoroughly I can convince you to stay by my side; to allow me to be your only lover." Chase's gold eyes darkened slightly and an expression of want filled his face. "To allow my lips to be the only ones to touch yours, to allow only my hands to caress your skin, only my cock to fuck you, to give you pleasure..."

Jack shivered again; this time, it was because of the sudden rise of lust in his young, greedy body.

Chase sighed again. "I am determined that you will accept me, Jack. I want you very much."

The albino man scowled. "Even if I say no?"

If he'd still had the cat ears, they would have been laying back against Chase's skull in an instant.

"No," the man said distastefully. "I am a murderous fiend and a minion of hell, but I am not a rapist. I will woo you, Spicer. I will not force you."

"But... you're a demon. You could so easily..."

"I know I could. I do not want you that way. I want you to want me willingly. I want it to be your choice."

Jack swallowed hard. "That's... really kind of you. Thanks."

"Yeah... the boy's a real softy."

Jack flinched at the sound of a new voice in his apartment. He let out a shout, startled, when Chase abruptly lunged forward to drape himself over him. After a moment, Jack realized the man was covering him protectively. Looking up, he followed Chase's gaze across the room where the TV stood.

There, atop the old appliance, sat a larger than average reddish-brown bean. Rather, it was bean-shaped, but there the resemblance ended. Two rooty appendages that functioned as arms spooled out to either side, while most of the creature's body was taken up by a pair of hideous poison-yellow eyes and a large mouth filled with large, disgusting teeth.

"A... bean?" Jack muttered stupidly.

"Hannibal Roy Bean," the creature said, its tone smugly proud. "Pleased t' make yer acquaintance, young Mr. Spicer. I wanted t' meet the human that finally made Chase lose his marbles."

Chase growled, low and deep and full of hate. "You've seen him. Now, get out."

Abruptly, he was flung away from Jack; flattened back to the other end of the couch and pinned there by an unseen force. Hannibal nonchalantly leapt from the TV and landed on Jack's chest. Jack felt his eyes trying to cross as he looked down at the tiny form now perched on him.

"I said 'meet him'," Hannibal admonished his minion. "Y' oughtta mind yer manners, boy."

Turning around, Hannibal studied Jack quietly while the young man looked closely at the small demon perched on his chest.

"Bit unusual lookin', ain't he?" Hannibal finally said. "White skin an' red eyes? That's not normal in a human."

"I like his unique coloring," Chase growled, struggling to sit up again. Unfortunately, he couldn't move a muscle.

"Kinda cross-eyed, too," Hannibal opined.

"You're, like, two inches from my face," Jack protested.

Hannibal grimaced and waved a rooty arm in front of his own face. "Boy, d' you even know what mouthwash is? I'm thousands of years older than you and I'm still up on current trends."

"Yeah, well... you're a bean!" Jack fumed impotently.

"Oh, no... it's my mortal enemy, Captain Obvious," Hannibal sneered. "Forget bibles and holy minions: I'm doomed if he states the obvious one more time!"

"If only," Chase muttered, rolling his eyes.

"You shut up," Hannibal said calmly, without turning around to face Chase. Abruptly, the Asian man's jaws clamped shut and Chase could only growl in his throat in futile bravado.

Jack sighed. "Why'd you want to meet me?"

"Like I said, boy! Chase, here, doesn't take a likin' t' nobody. Knowin' how much he hates me an' bein' beholden t' me, it's a mighty powerful liking he's taken t' you if he's agreed t' work for me again," Hannibal cackled. "I wanted t' see what you're like awake and not drunk so I can see for m'self what's makin' him get all domestic."

Jack suddenly sat up and caught Bean in his hand when the tiny demon tumbled down from his chest. Lifting his hand up so they were eye-level with each other, he grinned at the furious look the bean was giving him.

"This is me," Jack said. "And, I guess I'd have to say you trained him well to be a sadistic fiend given how easily he made me doubt myself and feel miserable."

Hannibal snorted, but a smug look stole across his face. "He's a natural. You're probably going to end up completely destroyed and suicidal after he's done with you, but hey! I'll be sure t' give you a warm welcome when ya finally do slit yer wrists."

Chase's eyes widened in sudden alarm.

Jack snorted softly. "Thanks for the advice. And, really, thanks for putting Chase back in his human form. I thought I was going to be alone and un-sexed all of my life. I'm glad I was wrong."

Hannibal glared at the young human. "Yeah, well, enjoy 'im while ya got 'im, Casper. He's one o' mine, so he has all of eternity facin' him. You...? Ya got a few decades here an' there. Those'll pass in the blink of an eye. Have fun while ya can, boy!"

He hopped off of Jack's hand, made his way over to Chase and sat on the naked man's chest. He grinned smugly at the helpless fury in the golden gaze.

"Or maybe I should be sayin' that t' you, hmmm?" the demon teased cruelly. "After all, it's you what's gonna have t' lose him to mortality while you continue on through eternity all alone."

Reaching out, the bean mock-affectionately patted Chase's face. "Now, I'll give you a freebie for tonight; get t' know your honey, if y' get my drift. But startin' tomorrow, I expect you t' get to work on payin' off your debt."

With that, Hannibal turned and blew a kiss at Jack before vanishing into nothingness.

The instant he was gone, Chase was up and on his feet, pacing roughly around the living room.

Jack watched the lovely man pace and asked, "So... what? You have a time limit?"

Chase snarled wordlessly, but shook his head. After a few moments, he calmed enough to say, "No. The deal was one million souls in exchange for my human form; for the chance to make you mine in all ways."

The albino man sighed. "So... okay. I mean... okay."

"What does that even mean?" Chase demanded, stopping his pacing to stand in one place and stare confrontationally at Jack.

"It means that I don't know what to say – or do! Last night, I got drunk off my ass because I was going to end up a lonely old maid with an evil cat for company. Now I find out that my evil cat wants to fuck me and made a deal with a devil to acquire a body that will let him do it! Knowing me, I'll probably agree to it 'cause I can't fight you off and let's get real: you are hot."

Chase smirked in smug amusement.

Jack pointed at him. "Look, just 'cause I'm lonely and horny and completely unprepared for this doesn't mean I'm all that easy!"

Again, a single eyebrow lifted. "Oh, no? You knew that model barely a month before you offered him your virginity."

"So? He didn't take it – thanks to you, I might add. And so what if it was only a month? By today's standards, that's slow," Jack defended.

Chase walked closer to where Jack sat on the couch. As he approached, it became obvious that he was very sexually interested in the white-skinned human man sitting before him.

Jack's eyes widened at the size of the hard-on pointing at him. He hadn't really paid that much attention to Chase's cock when it had been limp. Now, though, he couldn't miss it if he were blind.

"My standards will be much more satisfying for you," Chase murmured. "I won't rut you and run, Jack. I won't take your virginity in a hurried rush. I will enjoy you. I will teach you how to give pleasure and how to accept it without fear."

Jack swallowed hard. Finally lifting his gaze up away from Chase's erection, he met the other man's golden gaze and knew that he was lost.

Within a month, things had changed drastically.

Jack had held out for a week (almost a week; alright, nearly four whole days!) before letting Chase seduce him. He had felt one brief moment of weirdness at being touched and kissed so intimately by the being that used to be his cat. That weird feeling had faded quickly as the lust Chase had excited in him had threatened to burn him alive from the inside out. He'd lost his virginity in a glorious haze of pleasure and little pain; had enjoyed himself so thoroughly that he'd made Chase claim exhaustion hours after the older man had initiated their lovemaking by demanding multiple repeat performances. Within the span of two days, Chase had fucked Jack on every available surface in every room of the tiny apartment.

He'd earned himself a listless swat on one buttcheek, however, when he'd muttered into his pillow, "So glad I didn't have you neutered."

By the second week, Jack had found himself being given the choicer assignments by his boss since so many of his fellow script editors had begun disappearing. Better status led to better income and soon, Jack was seriously considering upgrading to a better, bigger apartment.

By the third week, Jack was suddenly a millionaire because his parents had unexpectedly died in a yacht explosion that had killed them and nearly fifty other people. Chase had stayed largely out of sight and by the end of the fourth week, the will had been read and Jack was the heir to his parents' fortune.

"Alright," Jack said, as he and Chase walked into the Spicer Mansion on the outskirts of Chongqing, China. "How'd you do it?"

"Do what?" Chase asked, trying to be aloof.

"The police somehow did not suspect me, the will was read within a week of their deaths, I was named heir when I know for a fact that they disowned me after I announced I was gay," Jack said acerbically. "The first two alone should have taken months. That everything was transferred over to me almost immediately is another telling sign. That should have taken at least a month, too. So... how'd you do it?"

"I am very good at what I do," Chase said with a smirk. "That is all you need to know."

Jack laughed, shook his head, and started making his way up the large and ornate staircase in the main hall. He glanced over his shoulder coyly at Chase.

"C'mon," he said, his voice dropping a decibel or two. "I want to show you my bedroom. It's where my mother cried and my father slapped me, and then called me a disgusting freak of nature and said I would never, ever, ever find anybody who'd ever want me."

Chase was very eager to prove the late, unlamented Martin Spicer a liar.

Being young, beautiful, and rich, Jack was very much in demand no matter where he chose to live. That he was clearly gay (having acquired a gorgeous Asian boyfriend shortly after moving into his childhood home) only added to his desirability, since queers were currently "in style." Everyone wanted to know and be known by the strangely colored, beautiful, witty, wicked new playboy.

Very shortly, Jack began making a name for himself in the business world. He took over as CEO of Spicer Industries and astounded the financial world with shrewd business acumen. While Martin Spicer and his wife had been moderately successful, enough to enjoy a wealthy lifestyle, Jack Spicer proved himself a prodigy.

That his astounding ability was largely the result of behind-the-scenes work of his incredible and wicked partner was known only to Jack and Chase.

Not long after that, Jack began tinkering with his true love: robotics. He created a second company; a robotics and technology company, and took the world by storm. He created marvels that were only dreams in the minds of mathematics professors, scientists, and science fiction writers. Fossil fuels were done away with, landfills and oceans were cleaned up, and Jack was well on his way to being Leader of the Whole Entire World.

It gave Chase no end of satisfaction that Jack frequently scoffed at such claims made by the general public and would say, while doing salaciously indecent things to him in bed, that he would chuck it all in a heartbeat if it meant giving up what he had with Chase.

Chase himself was by no means idle. Thanks to Jack's business and social doings, the demon had plenty of opportunity to send souls on their way to Hannibal Roy Bean. Not all of the souls had done wicked, evil things. Some of them were innocent. However, because Chase did the killing and invoked a ritual spell each time, the souls were given over to Hannibal.

He chafed, though. In the time since he'd been given his human body back (nearly four years!) and Jack had accepted him as a lover, he'd harvested thousands of souls. He was still a long way off from the completion of his debt, however, and that meant that Hannibal could "pop in for a visit" whenever he liked, which was too often for either his or Jack's taste.

Ever since the demon had arrived while Chase and Jack had been in the middle of an intense round of lovemaking, Hannibal had made several hints afterward that he wouldn't mind sampling Jack himself.

The only way Jack would be safe from such a thing would be if Chase was free of his debt from Hannibal. As the demon's minion, Chase could be forced to give Jack to him under the right circumstances. As of yet, Hannibal had not made the attempt, but neither was Chase willing to wait for that attempt to be made.

His preoccupation with trying to figure out how to acquire the rest of the souls that Chase owed to Hannibal caught Jack's attention - especially when Jack was cuddled up to his lover in bed, attempting to seduce him into a round or three of sex, and Chase was barely paying attention.

Exasperated, Jack rolled away from Chase and left the bed. He shrugged into a hideously expensive black silk robe and stalked out of the bedroom; made his way to the outer room of their personal suite in the mansion and fixed himself a drink.

Chase walked slowly and regally out of the bedroom. "What are you doing, Spicer?"

"What does it look like?" Jack snapped. "I'm having a drink. It's not as if I'm going to need my sex drive tonight."

Chase grimaced. "Do not be childish. Simply because I do not respond immediately to your touch like a trained monkey does not mean I do not want you."

Red eyes glared with a mixture of hurt and anger at the hell minion in response to the cruel words.

Sighing, Chase walked over and took the glass of brandy away from Jack even as he looped one arm around the albino man's trim waist.

"No, do not fight me," Chase murmured when Jack tried to push free. "Try asking me what is wrong."

Jack went still. Why hadn't he thought of that? There were any number of things that could be a problem for Chase, despite being a powerful, immortal demon. Abruptly, Jack felt weak with fear. What if Hannibal was up to something that could separate them? Even worse, what if Chase was bored with him?

Seeing the doubt beginning to creep into Jack's red eyes, Chase kissed his lover reassuringly before saying, "Come back to bed with me, Jack. I will explain what has me so frustrated that I cannot even give you the attention you want."

Together, the two men returned to the decadent bedroom. Stripping Jack of the robe so he could enjoy the smooth white skin of his beautiful lover, Chase settled them in bed once more and began speaking. He told Jack of his worries about Hannibal's sudden interest in the human man and of his frustration at being so far away from his goal, still. He admitted to wanting Jack to be safe, no matter what. He wanted the debt to be over so he could be assured that Jack would be safe from lecherous demons other than himself.

"If you finish the debt with him, wouldn't that mean I'd be free game?" Jack asked, stroking his hand over Chase's stomach and thighs, enjoying the feel of the soft skin.

Chase shook his head. "No. As a free agent, I would be able to defend you against any and all comers. With every soul I give him, a small percentage of the power of that soul comes to me. My commission, if you will. I do have power enough to go up against Hannibal if I have to, and he knows it. He will not be willing to fight me - not if the debt is finished, anyway."

Jack sighed. "So, if he were to show up and demand that you... what? You'd have to hold me down and force me to let him fuck me?"

Chase grimaced. "Essentially, yes. He hasn't yet, though. I don't know why and I'm not about to ask in case it gives him ideas."

The albino man went tense. "What if he's listening to this?"

The demon minion shook his head. "He isn't. I would sense it."

Jack sighed in relief. "Alright. Wait! Why can you sense it now, but couldn't when he showed up in the apartment years ago?"

"He's been visiting us more regularly; checking up on me. Proximity increases awareness."

"That makes sense. Alright... so we have to find a way to get your debt finished quickly."

Chase smiled and trailed his fingers delicately over the smooth skin of Spicer's back. "You would help me murder people? Jack, I confess I find that thought arousing."

Grinning, Jack curled his hand around the proof of Chase's arousal. He stroked firmly, in a languid rhythm, and listened to Chase's gasps and groans of pleasure.

"I can tell," he teased. "But I don't think I'd have the stomach to actually physically murder someone. Remember the time I walked in on you hunting that one playboy who'd put himself in our bed, hoping to seduce either one of us? It was the first time I got to see your dragon form. What a surprise that was! I hadn't known about that, remember? But all that screaming, and the fear, and the blood and urine and vomit while he pleaded to live... ugh. I was sick for days afterward."

Chase sighed. "I remember. If I'd known you were that squeamish, I'd have teleported him elsewhere to do it so you wouldn't have walked in on it."

"Would you have taken him up on his offer, first?" Jack queried sharply. He grinned a moment later when Chase deftly squeezed their favorite brand of lube over his fingers, allowing his hand to glide smoothly along the erect shaft.

"Not a chance," Chase muttered, his eyes half-closed as he enjoyed the sensation of Jack's hand stroking his cock with just the right amount of pressure. "Only one man – one human — is worthy of me, and that man is currently making me insane with lust with every stroke of his fist."

Jack grinned and leaned forward to kiss Chase deeply. When he pulled back, he murmured, "Good answer."

Then, he adroitly swung himself up onto his knees and straddled his lover. Reaching back with his slick fingers, he prepared himself; kept his gaze hot and wanting on Chase's as he stretched and slicked himself. When he felt ready, Jack slowly sat back. He moaned, low and soft, when he felt the heat and hardness spear up into him in a slow, perfect slide of flesh-on-flesh.

Chase growled his appreciation while his hands went to Jack's hips; steadied his young lover's descent to keep Jack from inadvertently hurting himself. He'd done that once in his eagerness to ride Chase's cock, to be on top for once. He'd learned the hard way that in some instances, slow and steady were preferable to fast and hard.

Chase began to gently thrust his hips, meeting the sinuous motion of Jack's hips as the younger man bucked himself forward and back in a languorous rhythm, riding his lover's cock with obvious pleasure.

"So... what do we do?" Jack asked a few moments later, struggling to remember how speech worked.

"Hell if I know," Chase muttered, and began fucking a little faster into Jack. He would never, ever, ever disdain the feel of Jack Spicer; loved to be buried as deeply inside the beautiful young man as he could go. There was nothing more perfect than being balls-deep inside his lover.

Jack laughed quietly even as he increased his pace to match Chase's. "We have to think of something."

"Later," grunted Chase, arching up into Jack. "Later, later, later...!"

Jack agreed and all words were forgotten except each other's names as they strove for a glorious climax together.

Much later, Jack lay awake in the darkness. He was warm and sated with afterglow; content to be curled up beside the fearsome demonic warrior that he loved beyond all reason.

"I'll think of something," he said quietly to the sleeping demon beast. "You won't suffer this much longer, Chase."

Sound asleep, Chase made no reply.

"Don't think I don't know what's worryin' you, boy."

Chase glared, but did not look up from his current victim. He was slowly, slowly crushing the heart of a middle-aged woman who had made the opinion at a recent fundraiser, in Chase's hearing, that Jack was a mutant freak that ought to have been put down when he was an infant rather than let someone so creepy grow up.

Chase had taken exception to that comment. The only warning he'd given the woman that her days were numbered had been a brief meeting of eyes. In that moment, she'd known subconsciously that she had been targeted by an apex predator and had fled instinctively.

It hadn't saved her.

Weeks later, Chase had finally gotten around to making her pay for her rude opinion.

His fingers tightened their grip in such minute increments of pressure that it was almost an art form of dexterity and control. Her eyes were wide and pleading, knowing that she was going to die but hoping that she had enough time to change his mind.

Not that she would live long even if he stopped squeezing her heart, given that she was sliced open from her throat to her crotch.

Hannibal perched on Chase's left shoulder and peered down with interest at the latest soul Chase was about to reap for him. When the woman's blue eyes flicked to him and stared in confused fear, he grinned widely, showing all of his teeth.

"Why, hello, Lucinda," he purred amiably. "Fancy meeting you here. It's just as well. The cops were about t' catch up t' you anyway. I don't think they liked you killin' pregnant unwed mothers before they could birth what you considered t' be 'abominations'. Tsk. What a negative attitude just 'cause some li'l guy or gal will come into the world without a daddy married t' their momma."

Lucinda's eyes widened even more. What was this thing? How had it known?

Hannibal heard her frightened thoughts and laughed. "How'd I know? Ain't it obvious, sweetheart? Oh, here: maybe this'll help." Abruptly, the flesh of his bean body went bright red and two little horns sprouted from his forehead, while a pointed tail waved from his backside.

Devil! her mind screamed, and her heart convulsed in Chase's grip.

Sensing the imminent fear-induced heart attack, Chase was forced to quickly crush the woman's heart. Deaths caused by Hannibal or anything else didn't count toward his quota. It had to be him doing the killing.

As the woman died by his hand, Chase recited the hex that would transfer the soul to Hannibal. He grimaced at the almost sexual sound of pleasure voiced by the creature perched on his shoulder.

Standing up from the prone body, his hand dripping blood and gore, Chase turned his head slightly and glared at his master from the corner of his eye. "What do you want, Hannibal?"

"What do any of us want?" the demon replied mockingly. He hopped off of Chase's shoulder and splatted down into the gore-caked palm. He rolled, bathing himself in the blood and the pulpy remains of Lucinda's heart, grinning. "We only want what makes us happy."

Disgusted, Chase shook his hand free of guck. Hannibal and the remains of the heart slid away; plitted back down into the bloody cavity where the heart had so recently resided.

"Awww, don't pout, boy," Hannibal said, his voice carrying clearly upward. "Such a childish expression for such a terrifying minion of hell."

Chase glared down as he watched Hannibal swim idly in the goopy soup of blood and flesh in the heart-hole.

"Why are you bothering me?" he asked through clenched teeth. "I remember what you said when you arrived. You say you don't know what I'm worried about."

"Good memory on you, boy," Hannibal cackled, his teeth brightly yellow in the dark crimson fluid that coated his flesh. "But it's only the truth."

Chase bared his own teeth at the vicious demon that held his debt. "Why. Are. You. Bothering. Me?"

Hannibal abruptly vanished from Lucinda's cooling body. Too fast for thought to follow, Chase found himself flat on his back beside the corpse with a much larger Hannibal suddenly pinning him down. The man-sized bean blanketed Chase's long, lean form. Heavy, pulpy flesh pressed down and drove breath from the man's lungs while the rooty arm tendrils forced Chase's wrists and hands down painfully against the ground.

"I am bothering you," Hannibal said softly, "because I can. Because I own you, China Doll. I own every part of you and, if I wanted to, I could have your lover beneath me. I could even turn him into a vehicle to carry my seed. How would you like that?"

Chase struggled violently, but could not get free of the crushing weight of Hannibal Roy Bean. The hot stink of the demon's putrid breath blasted against his face, ruining what little air he could get into his lungs.

Hannibal laughed meanly. He ground down against Chase even more; added a lurid, detestable shimmy of his body over the helpless man's crotch and exulted in the enraged howl that ripped from his minion.

"You have nothin' except what I allow, Chase," Hannibal said coldly, his amusement ebbing. "Remember that part?"

Barely able to breathe properly, Chase glared up at his master. His thoughts, however, were loud and clear. Hannibal bared his teeth in a rictus grin.

"Ain't nothin' you can do that ain't already been done t' me," the demon cackled. "That bit with the hellhound sure brings back memories of my early days, though."

Chase felt his stomach do a slow, sick roll of nausea. What he'd thought of had been perverse, horrendous, and reprehensible to the Nth degree.

"Face it, boy," Hannibal continued. "You are powerless against me. There's nothin' you can do t' stop me from ruttin' your pretty li'l lover anytime I want and makin' you take a ringside seat for the performance."

Chase wondered for a few moments if he was about to be the first demon to die of terror and despair.

"Well... almost nothin'," Hannibal drawled, interrupting Chase's morbid thoughts. Gold eyes met poison-yellow. Rotted teeth flashed out in a smile of wicked joy. "There's always one option open t' you."

Chase's eyes widened. Not again. Hannibal couldn't already be offering another deal already! He hadn't even finished the first one!

The elder demon smiled and crooned when he saw Chase's realization. The tip of one rooty arm tendril delicately caressed the smooth, beautiful cheek.

A light smear of acid scorched a paper-thin scar into Chase's lovely flesh.

"Yeah," Hannibal purred. "That's it. Y' know what I want, boy."

Abruptly, he shrank away; literally shrank down, taking his excess weight off of Chase and releasing the man's wrists, granting freedom back to the younger demon.

Chase coughed, desperate for air in his lungs again. He coughed, gagged a little, and then forced himself upright. He panted, getting himself under control. He could feel his hair, soaked with Lucinda's blood, lying slick and heavy against his back.

He glared at the teeny form sitting nonchalantly on his left knee.

"Another deal, Hannibal?" Chase asked, his voice rough with injury.

"Another deal," the elder demon agreed. "Another one million souls, and I swear I will never attack or molest Jack Spicer. He will never suffer directly from me or from any machinations of mine."

Chase scowled darkly at his master. He said nothing as he weighed the consequences. The way Bean had worded the deal, Jack would be safe. Hannibal would never set someone else up to harm Spicer. Neither would he hurt Jack directly. That didn't mean other hell beasts wouldn't take notice of Jack, but with this deal, but if anyone else came sniffing after him, Chase would have full range of fighting ability against them as he would not have against his own master. For as long as Jack lived, Hannibal wouldn't—

Abruptly, Chase focused his attention on Bean.

"I'll counter your offer," he said, and enjoyed the way Hannibal's eyes widened in surprise. "I'll accept the original deal in regard to Jack's safety from you and I'll collect another two million souls in addition if you give him immortality, too. No gimmicks, no tricks, no mutations... not even any power. Just make him immortal."

"Well, now," Hannibal said softly. "That's a mighty tall order. Four million souls in total for a human body, guarantee of safety, and immortality."

"That's what I'm asking," Chase said grimly.

The elder demon was silent for a few moments as he considered the counter offer. Finally, he grinned, and then began laughing.

"What the hell," he joked, "why not? You got yourself a deal, Chase."

Chase felt the magical binding of the verbal contract and shuddered slightly. His burden had grown, but at least Jack would be safe with him for a long, long, long time to come.

"You go on home," Hannibal said, bouncing off of Chase's knee. "Give your lover the glad tidings. Tell 'im I'll be along in a bit to give him the gift. I'll clean up here."

Chase rolled his eyes, but got to his feet anyway. He was about to teleport away, but paused and looked down at his master.

"Why did you agree to it?" he asked. "Four million seems like cheap fare in return for my peace of mind."

Hannibal quirked a grin up at him. "The upper management of hellish hierarchy - that'd be me, in case you hadn't noticed - are allowed one day per one-hundred years to do a 'good deed' for our minions without suffering backlash. It's our version of 'use or lose'. And I just used mine for this century. So no more trying to squish me with bibles whenever I show up, boy."

Chase snorted, but was amused enough to let it slide. He was about to say something else when Bean abruptly transformed into something that was mostly mouth, teeth, and gullet that dragged itself over to Lucinda's body. One chomp, and a neat semi-circle had carved away one-fourth of the dead woman's torso.

"No sense in letting it go to waste," Hannibal said gutturally around his mouthful.

Queasy, Chase teleported away without another word.

Jack couldn't wait to tell Chase about his new plan for finishing the debt to Hannibal.

Although, he wondered if that would have any impact on the immortality he now sported. It'd been almost three months since he'd been given the gift. Chase had come home, soaked in blood, and had told him the whole story from start to finish. He'd been queasy at hearing of Lucinda's death, but then had come the tale of Hannibal's arrival and the new deal made. Not long after helping Chase scrub clean of blood and needing a bath himself after hearing of Hannibal's body disposal method ("Do you recall that movie you made me watch, Spicer? 'The Langoliers'? He looked very much like those creatures."), Hannibal had come along to give him the gift of immortality. He'd made a few crude statements about "missing out" while leering at Jack, but he had touched Jack only to make him immortal. Then, he'd vanished and Chase had caught Jack and held him close, needing comfort Jack had been happy to give.

Now, he picked up the phone and dialed Chase's personal cell phone number. Within a few rings, Chase answered.

"Yes, Spicer... what do you need?" the demon beast said before Jack could say a word.

Jack shivered at the sound of Chase's husky voice in his ear. Every bit of his lover was sexy, but Jack especially loved his voice.

"Hey, lover," he said, grinning slightly. He used his toes to spin himself around in his plush executive office chair. His eyes took in a whirl of windows-wall-art-door-wall-plant-windows, again and again. "Do you have a few moments to spare? I've got an exciting idea."

"Has your desk been fixed from the last time we had sex on it? I don't want a repeat performance of that fiasco."

Jack laughed even as the spinning slowed to a stop. He kicked lightly at his desk. "Yeah. I had it reinforced with titanium. Got some funny looks, but hey... I'm rich. What do I care about the opinions of peons?"

"I love it when you talk of superiority," Chase purred in his ear.

"Yeah, well, I'll be glad to tell you later how you're the god of my world. Right now, I have something extra special going on that I think you'll approve of. Can you get over—hey!"

Chase was already standing in front of Jack's desk. He smirked at the younger man and said into the still open cell phone, "Yes, I can."

"Very funny," Jack said, closing his own phone and putting it away.

"I thought so," Chase said. He tossed the cell phone over onto a nearby couch and then braced his hands on the desk and began pressing and shoving rhythmically.

"What...?" Jack queried, confused. He blushed when Chase gave him a lascivious grin.

"Testing it for durability," the demon replied. "Tell me your idea."

Jack grinned, rolled his eyes, but nevertheless began speaking.

"Tell me how the soul collecting thing works," he said. "Do you Hoover them out or is it the killing? What?"

Chase looked up, curious. He left off his playful testing of the desk; stood straight and tucked his arms behind himself, resting them at the small of his back as he regarded his lover. "Why do you ask?"

"Answer it first," Jack said. "It's really important for me to know. I promise I'll tell you once I have the answers I need."

One eyebrow lifted, but Chase obliged the younger man.

"I kill my chosen victims and then invoke a ritual hex that will send their souls to Hannibal," Chase said calmly.

"Do you have to physically maul them dead? Do they have to die personally at your hands in a gout of blood or something?"

Chase hesitated. "Not to my knowledge. I could, theoretically, de-rail a train and then invoke the hex. Anyone dead or dying would then belong to Hannibal."

A huge grin split across Jack's face. "Excellent!"

Both eyebrows went up. "I confess that I am curious, Spicer. What are you up to?"

"Nothing much," Jack said. "Just this."

He tossed a folded piece of paper to Chase. The demon opened it and found a simple flowchart written in Spicer's squished-spider messy scrawl. He blinked, deciphered it, and then looked at his lover.

"A lethal, biogenetically engineered virus that is untraceable?" he asked sharply. Jack nodded at him, grinning. "Who is this 'Katnappé' you have at the top level of the flowchart?"

"She's a biogeneticist freak of a woman I've known since I was a kid," Jack said. "My specialty is robotics and technology. Hers is all things biological with a fair knowledge of programming. I mean, she knows her stuff to the point she has grafted cat ears and a tail onto herself because she identifies way too much with cats. She even created genetically superior attack kittens.

Chase blinked. "Attack kittens?"

Jack nodded, making a face. "Yeah. Those fuckers are vicious. Remember I complained about my favorite leather jacket getting shredded? She used it to test their mauling capabilities."

Chase grimaced. He recalled the state of that jacket. He'd been angry, too, because he'd gotten it for Jack when he'd seen it and thought of how sexy his lover would look in the black leather.

"Incidentally, she has a few cats she'd like us to adopt," Jack said. "Part of the deal if we agree to this."

"Agree to...?"

"She'll make the super-lethal disease," Jack said. "She doesn't like people any more than we do. She'll make it and give the container to you. All you have to do is dump it into three reservoirs of your choosing. Invoke the hex and there you go: millions dead within weeks."

Chase's legs gave out and he sat down in a hurry on the carpeted floor of Jack's penthouse office.

Getting up from his chair, Jack hurried around the large desk and went to his lover. Kneeling down beside the wide-eyed and trembling demon, he soothingly rubbed Chase's back.

"This is what you wanted, right?" Jack asked worriedly. "To get the debt over and done with right away?"

Chase nodded mutely, staring at nothing.

Jack, figuring his lover needed time to process, stayed silent and simply rubbed Chase's back.

Nearly ten minutes later, Chase blinked and turned his head to look at the young man kneeling beside him. "Do you know what this means?"

"That you'll be free of your four-million-soul debt to Hannibal? Not that he couldn't come up with other things to sucker you with," Jack fretted, "but I'd be right there with you through it all. Only thing I'm wondering is if the immortality goes away on completion of the debt."

Chase blinked, and then shook his head. "No. That and the protection and my body are all free and clear ours once the debt is complete, no take-backs."

"Then... what?" Jack asked.

A huge, evil, joyous grin began taking shape on Chase's face. "It means, my devious lover, that this virus will generate millions of deaths. Not just four million, but more. The four million that I owe to Hannibal will go to him - less the ones I've already acquired for him - but so will all of the others."

Jack frowned. "Which makes him even more powerful."

"Recall, if you will, that a portion of the power goes to me, as well."

"Yeah. So?"

"So, there is no way the other demon masters will accept Hannibal becoming so richly powerful in souls so swiftly. He'll swell with power - and the will attack him. They will work to keep him from becoming Lord of Hell. As soon as four million souls are in his keeping, I'm free of the debt, which means I won't have to go to his aid. He'll be under attack from the other hellions and his power will reduce. By the time this finishes, I will be stronger than him."

Jack's eyes widened. "He won't be able to stalk you anymore!"

Unholy glee was vivid in Chase's expression. "Precisely!"

Cackling like mad hens, they clung to each other; absolutely giddy in their delight. Soon, their joy took a different, more sensual turn, but that was alright by them.

And this time, the desk stayed standing.

Chase stood on the bridge that spanned the dividing lines between the reservoir basins at Ashokan Reservoir in upstate New York. He had a magnificent view of the perfectly still, calm water that was a gigantic, man-made lake that served the potable water needs of roughly 10 million New Yorkers throughout the state. The sun was just setting over Ashokan High Point; the mountain that served as a scenic backdrop to the huge reservoir.

Turning his head, he looked to his right and found Spicer standing beside him. The white skin was painted gold in the light of the setting sun. Despite the brilliance of the fading star, Jack had left off his yellow-lensed goggles; preferring to put up with the minor pain of bright light in return for the spectacular view. The light of the setting sun made Jack's crimson eyes glow spectacularly

A cool breeze whipped up out of the mountains, sending bright orange-gold-brown-red leaves scudding along the pavement of the bridge. October in New England meant brilliant foliage and autumn days with chill air. Fortunately, Jack had worn a heavy jacket and gloves. He was comfortable in the brisk chill. Chase hardly felt the temperature as more than a sweetly cooling breeze though he felt the tug on his hair from the strength of the wind. He grinned at his lover and lifted the small glass tube that was stoppered with a simple black rubber cork.

"Ready?" he asked simply.

"Go for it," Jack replied, and lifted a digital camera.

After all, it was a momentous occasion. Why not record it for posterity?

Chase pulled the stopper from the glass tube. The clear liquid inside remained the same as he slowly tipped the tube upside down, emptying the simple two ounces of fluid into the mirror-calm water below the bridge.

Jack shivered. It would take days for the lethal disease to filter into the taps in millions of apartments, homes, and public fountains, but he fancied he could already hear the agonized shrieks of the dying that would free Chase from Hannibal's control.

Mistaking Jack's shiver for one of dismay, Chase curled an arm around his lover's waist and pulled him close.

"Cheer up, Spicer. Perhaps that annoying, bitchy former neighbor of yours will be one of the first to die. That fool female that suddenly thought you were hot after I tossed your make-up products out?" Chase cajoled.

Jack grinned. "Oh, yeah... her! What's-her-name. Even if I had been sad, that would have cheered me right up. No, I'm not upset. I'm fine! In fact, I'm very excited. Within a week, you'll be free and clear. But only if we get a move on to the other two reservoirs. I know we chose New York as our symbolic full-circle, but time's a-wastin' for both of us immortal jerks."

Laughing, Chase teleported them away to carry out the rest of their sinister plot.

Three days after the seeding of the reservoirs with the untraceable disease, Chase abruptly sat up straight. Considering he'd been sucking on Jack at the time, the younger man considered it no small mercy that his dick had slipped free rather quickly.

"Chase...?" he muttered, not happy to have the cocksucking interrupted.

Gold eyes turned slowly to lock gazes with him. A purely devious smirk of unholy joy filled Chase's face.

"It's done," he said, and roughly pulled Jack to him. "The debt is complete. I'm free!"

Jack's eyes widened. "Already? Wow! That stuff worked better than I thought it would. I totally owe Ashley something outrageously expensive."

"Give her Paris. She likes their culture. That ought to do," Chase said, and kissed his lover demandingly.

Six days later, Hannibal finally showed up.

He was as thoroughly wrecked as Chase could hope for. Bruises, welts, gaping wounds, oozing sores, missing chunks of flesh, and unutterable weariness wreathed the diminished figure.

"How did you do it?" Hannibal asked tiredly.

"I'm good at what I do," Chase said, feeling powerful and evil and glorious. "And that's all you need to know."

Jack was seated nearby, watching the two demons' verbal sparring. He thought of how his random act of pity toward a soaking wet, mangy-looking cat had resulted in wealth, power, immortality, and the eternal affection of one of the most powerful demons to ever come out of hell. What if he'd never gone out that day? Or taken a different route home, or at a different time?

So many what-ifs, all of them leading to paths of dark loneliness, utterly devoid of the one thing that made everything he'd endured in his life worth what he gained: Chase.

He used to think himself the unluckiest bastard on earth. The reality was that he was far luckier than any one person had any right to be.

He smiled now as he watched Hannibal attempt a futile, yet inevitable, power play only to be rebuffed easily by Chase. The elder demon was severely weakened; less powerful than he had been when he'd first come to Chase all those centuries ago.

Deciding that he was tired of Hannibal's presence, Jack got up and sauntered over to stand beside his eternal beloved. What he was about to do was a dirty trick, but hey... one didn't shack up with a demon without learning a thing or two about being evil.

Hannibal's hoarse cry was cut off as the five-pound bible Jack had been holding was swiftly dropped on him.

"I claim this heavy-object-successfully-dropping-onto-annoying-target moment in the name of Wile E. Coyote," Jack said solemnly.

Chase closed one eye and glared at his lover with the other.

Jack held his solemnity for a few more moments, and then dissolved into a fit of giggles.

Chase sighed and pulled Jack against him. He didn't know what he'd done to deserve this annoying brat...

...but if he did, he'd do it all over again, just to ensure that Jack Spicer remained his forever.

The End!



So, yeah...as I said in a recent journal on deviantART, I'd lost all inspiration for this piece and had decided to give it up entirely.

However, Silvarbelle was kind enough to pick it up for me and finish it in this handy little finale, for which I am eternally grateful. Thank you, Silv!

In any case, this post marks THE END of Feline Fallaciousness, so thanks for reading and I hope you liked Silv's wonderful work! :D