Chapter 6: The peaceful way…

Edwin did not know what he could get out of this, apart from maybe a fine. But as he stared at the mayor, who looked at him with about as much interest as someone would regard an ant, he knew that he had to try.

Because he was not a savage, and he could not just allow food to be stepped on, while there were people who were forced to dig in trash cans for their meal.

"Sir, with all due respect, but the trees could be a valuable resource," Edwin said, for he had already exhausted the argument that it simply was not humane to step on food. When nothing else worked, then bow down to the golden god. "Surely, we could pick the fruit, and the state can…"

The mayor huffed, and then stood up.

"Who is going to pick it?" he asked, his patience seemingly at an end. "The street cleaners, perhaps? They don't even want to do the job they are paid to do. Do you honestly think they will climb some wild trees, for some equally wild fruit?"

Edwin had expected it all already, and he stood up as well. He was ready to do his part. Even if no one else would help him.

"I am sure that the people of the city could volunteer," he said, for he still had a kernel of hope in his fellow citizens.

The mayor made a noise between a huff and a chuckle. He shook his head, and then made his way to the door, opening it and holding it open as soon as Edwin turned towards him.

"Leave," was the simple command. But Edwin was not ready to give up. He had something to fight for!

"And if I arrange for the homeless to pick the fruit, will we face trouble?" He asked, for he was pretty sure that the mayor would be quick to monetize the produce as soon as it was picked and stored in containers.

The old man rolled his eyes, and then pointed at the corridor outside of the door.

"If you don't leave, I will have you thrown out. Your nonsense has nothing to do with this city," if a voice could be compared to vinegar, then the mayor's would have been the first.

Edwin balled his fists. How could this man, this man who probably never had to budget during his entire life, be so cold?

"The hell are we paying you for? Just so you can buy yourself designer clothing, and new cars, and…" Edwin began, but that was the wrong thing to say.

Soon, the security detail stormed in, and before he could say he was sorry, he was already told that he had the right to remain silent.

0000

Edwin stared at the bars of his cell and counted sheep. It was way passing the time during which he had to take his potions, but the police officers on the other side of the bars had not cared when he told them he was sick.

The one phone call he was supposed to have a right to had been a bust because his roommate had not picked up the phone. Not that he could blame him. The man worked during those hours.

Edwin buried his face in his hands and sighed. Well… shit. The mayor was surely going to land his ass in prison for this, and then no one would hire him. The new home office gig would surely dismiss him.

Wait, could they lay him off before he even began working for them? Was that even possible?

He heard footsteps but paid them little attention. The possibility that someone would come to bail him out and make an enemy out of the mayor was close to zero.

Or was it actually a negative number?

"Right this way, sir," he heard a woman say, but he did not look up. He did not want to stare at the bars anymore. He just wanted to take his potions, take a warm shower, and then collapse in bed.

How could he be so stupid as to talk back to the bloody mayor?

"Yes, that is my boyfriend," the voice was close, but the voice of a man. Edwin did not bother looking up. Maybe the man had more bravery in him than good sense? Admitting to being gay or bisexual in this country would get one beaten up.

Which was why Edwin did not even want to entertain such thoughts. What was the point? It was not like he could have a normal life if he went down that road.

"Ok, you have paid for him, and now I am going to let him out," the woman said, and Edwin, much to his surprise, heard as the key turned in the lock. The sound was too close.

Did this stranger not even know what his boyfriend looked like? Was there something like mail order brides, but for homosexuals?

"Edwin, darling, come now. You should have taken your potions hours ago. What if you end up with a fever again?" The man asked, his voice as rich as honey.

Edwin looked up, blinked when he saw that loan seller from earlier, and then, as the man winked at him, just stood up.

If this man wanted to bail him out, then so be it. That would not make Edwin want to close a deal with him, however.

"I brought you a jacket," the man said, and Edwin tried really hard to remember his name, but came up with a blank. "Edwin?"

"Yes… Orion?" Edwin tried because if he got the name wrong, the police officer was surely going to catch up on the act. The man chuckled, made a couple of steps towards him, and then pressed a cool hand over Edwin's forehead.

A pleasant feeling spread over Edwin's body, and he leaned into the touch. Such soft hands…

"He has a fever. I need to take him home as soon as possible. And to be honest, I think you all should get checked out. He has come down with a summer virus, I am afraid. You know how those dusty rune workshops are," Orion placed the jacked around Edwin, and offered him his hand.

It was almost so, as if he was offering him something more, but Edwin did not dare risk ending the game.

He took the hand offered to him, and let the demon lead him outside.

It was not a deal closer, not yet. Just something like the beginning of a negotiation. Orion was playing the long game, just like he had played it for millions of years before he had met Edwin.

And he had never, ever, lost.

0000

Orion dipped his cookie in the tea, and then looked on, as Edwin was devouring the takeout Orion had bought for them on the way to Edwin's apartment.

Oh, give the man a taste of what he had lost, remind him about what he was going to lose in the coming days, and then he would sell his soul.

It was an old dance, this deal making. Some could even call it an art form. And yet, Orion did not count his chicks before they were hatched.

No, he just ate his vanilla cookie, not being able to taste it at all, and waited for Edwin to start to talk to him.

"That is so…" Edwin began, as he saw that there was no food left on his plate. "I mean… this is so…"

"Yes?" Orion asked, as he smiled, dipping his cookie in the tea again. It was too soggy, the bottom part broke and sunk into the tea. Orion frowned, a movement so fast, Edwin did not notice a thing. He hated it when food fell in his drink. Hated that he had to pretend to be human when he was anything but.

"It was nice of you to bail me out," Edwin said, as he took in a deep breath. "But I think I will need to move out of town."

"Why?" Orion asked, as he placed his soggy cookie back on the platter with the rest. "You did nothing wrong. It was all over the news. I dare say that the mayor had never faced a bigger shit storm. The journalists are trying to crucify him. Mayor Alfred threw a sick man who just wanted to stop the disrespect against both the food which goes to waste and the homeless. Oh, I think you should stay right where you are, Edwin."

Edwin looked at the platter with the cookies, and he reached out. He knew that if he wanted a cookie, he should be ready to bake them himself. But if he did not take any, Orion would certainly drown them in tea, and then throw them away.

What was the difference between a kilogram of stepped upon plums, and a platter of soggy cookies?

Food was food.

He took one, and then bit inside, his eyes closing in bliss. Oh, to eat something high in fat and sugar again.

Without thinking, he gave out a noise more in place in a bedroom, but he did not notice it himself.

But Orion did. 

He blinked, as Edwin devoured his cookie, licking each finger afterward, leaving no crumbs uneaten.

It was not often that Orion really allowed himself to look at mortals, but this time he did.

Maybe it was the trill of the chase. Perhaps it was the rejection of a couple of days ago. But he wanted to get a reward for all the hard work he was putting into this project.

Edwin noticed that the snowstorm-gray eyes of the man were fixed on his fingers, the same fingers he had licked clean, and his eyes widened.

Oh…

Orion had tried to pass off as his boyfriend, had he not? And he had helped, but it would be naive of Edwin to think that the man had done it from the goodness of his own heart.

Suddenly, Edwin had the burning wish to go back to the holding cell, and stare at the wall until his body burned up from the inside because of the fever.

A fever he was trying to talk himself that he felt, even though he knew that the heat he was feeling had nothing to do with him being sick.

"Thank you," Edwin's voice came out squeaky, and he hated himself for it. His neighbors were better than the country's secret services, and the walls were thin.

He could not allow himself to go down that road. No matter how much Orion looked like a vision sent from the heavens. Oh, the eyes were still a snowstorm, and Edwin tried to do everything but stare into them.

How could someone with such a hungry look in his eyes be so calm?

"Yes, well, I must admit I did it with something in mind," Orion said, getting up from his chair, forgetting that such things were allowed only after the deal was closed.

Who was going to find out? Who was going to judge him? After a night with him, Edwin would surely be easily tricked into selling his soul.

Orion had done it with some stubborn hard nuts to crack before. The result was one and the same.

"Oh," Edwin said, as he gripped his chair. That was bad. They were alone in the apartment. Orion had more muscle on him than Edwin. And…

Edwin felt sick.

Just as Orion neared Edwin, Edwin bent over, and started to heave out everything he had eaten before.

His braid not ending up covered in puke, for Orion had the decency to catch it as it slid over Edwin's shoulder.

Orion frowned, as he saw the state of his slippers. They belonged to Edwin, really, but he had no illusions as to the state of his socks. Could already feel the warm and disgusting wetness spreading.

And yet, he did not let go of the braid. He held it, made sure that Edwin would not have to wash puke out of his own hair.

Hair, which was curly at the tip of the braid. Was it curly all over, Orion wanted to ask, but did not.

After all, why ask, when you can find out for yourself?