A demon, his rock star, and a happy ending ...
Justin's never been happier. He's proud of his demon heritage, he has his rock-star empath husband, he and Kris are wildly in love, and they have a big family celebration today.
But he's waking up alone in bed. And he can hear his husband's emotions.
Families aren't easy. But if Kris needs some reassurance, Justin knows exactly how to help ...
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"You don't have to come today if you don't want to," Justin said, sitting up, or trying to. Kris squished him back down, and ran a hand over his hair, not minding flames and fireflowers and small horns. The hair was generally hot but not scorching; the horns were pointy, but Kris liked petting him, and Justin liked being petted.
He added, drowsily, "I mean, it's not like it'll be exciting. It's extremely ordinary. It's a college graduation." They'd been planning to pop over shortly before the ceremony, in a few hours; one advantage of a demonic heritage involved near-instant teleportation, as long as he knew where he was landing on the other side. But the actual ceremony might, after all, be boring for Kris. Sort of the opposite of a rock-star life, really.
"It's your brother's graduation, and your mum made sure to tell me she wanted me there. Big family party after, she said."
"Well, of course." Justin peeked up. Kris's eyes were so lovely, a deep dark mysterious brown, nearly black, like magic and ink and night. He'd always loved those eyes. And he got to wake up to them, being married to Kris. "You're family. Why does it feel weird?"
"I don't know," Kris said, leaning back against the arm of the couch, Justin draped across him and between his legs. "Just does. Want me to make coffee for you?"
"Not yet. You feel nice." True. Kris was secure and sturdy, arms firm around him. Kris Starr in person was shorter than most people thought, but solid, a pillar to lean on. Kris might be a certain amount of years older than Justin -- who admittedly had always had a thing for older men -- but remained the most glorious person Justin had ever known, inside and out.
He nuzzled his face into Kris's neck. "What were you thinking about?"
"You, sort of." Kris rubbed his back. "Guessing that's why you heard me. Sorry again."
"I know who you are. And you know you can't really push me with it. I only just picked it up." Kris probably could manipulate him, if it ever became necessary. It'd take a massive amount of effort, especially if Justin and the inhuman heritage were actively resisting, and it'd hurt in screaming amounts on both sides, so they'd never tried.
Justin was pretty sure Kris would win, and had said so, being honest. He knew his husband didn't like the idea of that, so they didn't talk about it much. Kris was a massively powerful projector, and Justin was only half a demon, and that was complicated too, because he'd chosen to be human, when given the choice.
He'd chosen the life he loved. No regrets.
Kris said, "I know you hear me, though. Like the radio. Should've known you would. Thinking about you, and family, mostly."
"I hear you because I want to. About family?"
"Mm. You're right, it's an ordinary thing. College. James. Graduating. Sort of thing I never did. Never wanted to."
Justin, who knew both the stories and the reality -- a father who'd never cared enough to stick around, a mother who'd passed away too young, teenage Kris dropping out of school, working in pubs, picking up a guitar, making rock-and-roll hall-of-fame history -- nodded against his chest. The blanket was warm, and Kris was warm, and he was listening.
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