black coffee and sulfur
Pairing: Calum Hood/Ashton Irwin Rating: Teen and Up Key Tags: demon au, supernatural hunter au, enemies to lovers, minor violence Word Count: 9,758 Read on AO3
“You’re the demon,” Ashton says, voice steady. “I was right about the crop failures and electrical storms. There is a demon in Springville.”
A/N: Hello! This is my fic for the Halloween Fic Event put together by @ashesonthefloor!!! I was given cashton and chose the prompt “You’re kind of cute. What are you doing here? Oh, shit, you’re who I’m supposed to be hunting? Fuck.” Or, one person is a ghost/demon. The other is a ghost/demon hunter. Shenanigans ensue. Hope you enjoy!
1.
Springville greets Ashton like every other small town does: unremarkably, sleepily, and with gray clouds overhead. He passes through miles of winding road, cutting between farmland and forests with the occasional worn-down house and dilapidated barn making an appearance, lulled by the familiar feeling of miles of road disappearing behind him. The town next to it is just as small and sleepy, and Ashton wouldn’t realize he entered his designated town if not for the large sign that greets him, paint chipping on the light blue background where white letters announce Welcome to Springville! in a swirling script.
The town itself is one of the smaller ones that Ashton has visited over the years, with a population of only 4,000. He’s definitely been to smaller, but this is the type of place where everyone knows each other and his presence will be noticed.
Hopefully that means that whoever is causing these thunderstorms and cattle mutilations has been noticed, too.
Ashton drives slow, passing a few fast-food joints before he lands on the town’s main street, full of colorful storefronts boasting names of family-owned businesses: Julie’s Restaurant, True Value Hardware, Sheret Jewelers. He spots a coffee shop nestled amongst what seems to be a flower shop and a boutique, quickly pulling over into an open spot at the side of the road.
He hasn’t had caffeine since he set out six hours ago, waking up early to check out from the last motel and get a jump on this job at Luke’s request. He was happy to go. Staying in one place for too long makes him antsy, and if there’s a demon here like all the evidence says, it’s best for Ashton to take care of it as soon as possible, anyway.
There’s no bell to ding above the door when Ashton enters, but the coffee shop itself is small enough that the barista behind the counter notices him immediately. He has black, curly hair and warm eyes, black tattoos covering his arms and snaking under the snug black t-shirt he has on. He flashes Ashton a smile while he finishes pouring foam in a cup, laying it on the counter and calling the patron by name to pick it up. Ashton approaches cautiously once the other patron has retreated to a table, still a bit closer than Ashton’s liking due to the lack of space in the entire room.
Ashton takes a seat at the counter carefully.
“Hey,” the barista says. “You look like you could use a coffee.”
“Seems I’m in the right place, then,” Ashton chuckles. “I’ll have a small dark roast, please. No cream or flavor shots.”
“Really?” the barista asks, raising his eyebrows. “One black coffee? For here or to go?”
“For here,” Ashton says before he can overthink it. The barista seems open and friendly enough, and if the demon has stopped in this coffee shop he might have some valuable information.
“In that case, can I tempt you with a pastry? We’ve got great scones. Espresso, raspberry, blueberry, and chocolate chip.”
“Sure, why not,” Ashton says. “Chocolate chip, please.”
The barista smiles and opens the display case, swiftly putting a scone on a plate and placing it in front of Ashton along with a napkin.
“So,” the barista says, starting on the coffee. “I haven’t seen you in here before. Are you passing through or loyal to the nearby Dunkin and Tim Hortons?”
“Passing through, hopefully,” Ashton says. “I’m looking for someone, actually. Any other newcomers around these parts?”
“No, not for a long time,” Calum says. “We don’t get much traffic in Springville.”
Damn. That means the demon is probably possessing a resident.
“Do you have a motel around, at least?” Ashton asks. “I might be here a few nights.”
Calum shakes his head.
“We have a hotel out near the McDonalds, but if you’re going to be here more than a week then renting is the way to go. There are cheap places above some of the shops here that do month-by-month rent for when the arts center used to bring visitors in for a season.”
“Oh, you guys have an arts center?” Ashton asks while the barista gets down a dark red mug.
“Yep!” he says, pouring the coffee. “There’s more going on in this small town than you’d expect.”
You don’t know the half of it, Ashton thinks.
“One black coffee,” the barista says, setting the mug on a saucer. He fixes Ashton with a look before sliding it over, head tilted and the hint of a smile playing on his lips. It sends a thrill through Ashton, one that’s just as exciting as the type he gets while hunting but leagues safer. “You sure you want this? I could put some cream in it for you.”
“If you want to poison me, maybe,” Ashton jokes. Flirts, really. The barista is cute and friendly, a juxtaposition to the people Ashton often finds himself surrounded by and a breath of fresh air in this line of work. He can afford some banter for the day.
“Definitely not, then. Poisoning a patron would be really bad for business, especially one as cute as you,” the barista says, winking for good measure. “How about this: at some point I’ll get you to drink something with cream that you actually like and it won’t be poisonous. Until then, I won’t hurt you if you hurt me. Deal?”
He holds out his hand across the counter, the initials DSH clearly visible against his tan skin. He wonders what it stands for.
Ashton is going to be out of here in a few days, as soon as the demon has been taken care of. There will be no time for coffee exploration or tattoo talk with an attractive guy, but for a moment he lets himself pretend.
“Deal,” he says, shaking the barista's hand.
-/-
It’s a fucking vampire nest.
Crop failure has been reported in this area for years, massive thunderstorms have been tearing through the region all summer, and yet, somehow , it’s a vampire nest responsible for the cattle mutilations, not a demon. Ashton discovers this while running for his life with a cut across his face through a field of corn while at least five vampires chase him, because he prepared for a fucking demon and doesn’t have any wooden stakes or a machete in his hands. He’s got a tiny silver cross on a necklace around his neck, but that’s not going to do anything against five of them, and he’s always packing a gun but salt rounds are only going to slow them, not stop them.
If he can get to his car he might be able to grab a knife and start swinging, but that’s a pretty big if.
The car comes into view, only a vague outline on the dark country road, and Ashton’s heart stops when he catches sight of a shadowy figure leaning against it with the trunk popped. If that’s another vampire, he’s screwed. If it isn’t, that just means there will be two bodies out here tonight and someone is breaking into his car. Either way, nearly ten years of hunting is about to end on an ordinary night in the-middle-of-nowhere, New York. What a fucking waste.
“Hey,” the figure by the car yells. The voice is familiar, but he doesn’t have time to place it before something whizzes past his ear, hitting the vampire behind him with a sickening crunch. Another vampire drops on his other side, hit again by some sort of projectile, and Ashton gives himself a final burst of speed to reach the car, swinging to the trunk and grabbing the machete without having to look, every weapon meticulously in place.
The barista holds out a hand. Ashton freezes mid-swing at the sight of him.
“I’m not one of them,” he says. That becomes apparent when the three remaining vampires slow to a stop in a wide semi-circle around the car and bare their fangs.
“Calum,” the one in the middle says. “I thought we had a deal.”
“We did,” the barista says, completely unphased by the three vampires slowly getting closer.
“Then why did you break it?” the vampire snarls.
“I didn’t,” Calum says. “We decided that you guys could stay here as long as you never hurt a human, yet here we are, with a hurt human. You broke the contract. You can either leave or I can kill you.”
The vampire lunges. A wooden stake flies from where it’s resting on the hood of the car to the vampire’s heart before Ashton can even raise his machete. The other two fall a second later.
Ashton waits for the crickets to begin chirping again, but the silence stretches on.
“What are you?” Ashton asks, gripping his machete harder. It’s silver, but he has a sinking feeling that that won’t help him here.
“You can’t hurt me, Ashton,” Calum says, turning to face him, leaning one hip against the car. “You made a deal with me at the coffee shop, remember? I won’t hurt you if you don’t hurt me, at least not until I make you a coffee with cream that you like. If you break it, hellhounds will be after you.”
“You’re the demon,” Ashton says, voice steady. “I was right about the crop failures and electrical storms. There is a demon in Springville.”
“Good job,” Calum says, eyes briefly flashing black. “Although you should’ve noticed that we’ve been having thunderstorms here for years. The cattle deaths only started a few weeks ago. The vampire nest promised not to go after any humans if I let them stay.”
“Why did you?” he asks.
“Fear can be healthy for humans,” he shrugs. “But I can’t tempt people who are already dead. I knew they broke the deal as soon as one of them hit you.”
Ashton wants to reach for his gun, a salt round already loaded inside and ready to fire. Chase him away, find a way to put a devil’s trap in the coffee shop, do an exorcism. Everything inside him is screaming to do his job and get rid of the monster, save the poor human that it’s possessing, but he can’t. He shook that hand in the coffee shop a few hours before.
I won’t hurt you if you don’t hurt me.
“So what now?” he asks.
“You could leave,” Calum says. “There are creatures out there making more trouble than me. Otherwise, there’s an apartment for lease above the flower shop. If you want to get rid of me, you have to wait for me to make the right coffee. Might be waiting a long time, since your taste is shit.”
Ashton clenches his jaw. He wants so badly to get out of this town, but he can’t leave a demon here alive, not when the residents are none the wiser. Until Luke calls with a more urgent job, he needs to at least keep an eye on Calum.
“Fine,” he says shortly, stopping around to the driver’s side and yanking the door open.
“You’re staying?” Calum asks.
“Guess you’ll find out tomorrow,” he says, throwing himself into the seat and slamming the door shut. Calum knocks on the window and he takes a deep breath before rolling it down just enough to hear him.
“You’re welcome for saving your life.”
Ashton grits his teeth and presses on the gas, leaving Calum behind in a cloud of dust.
2.
Ashton’s life falls into a normal routine. That in of itself is jarring enough to make the hairs on his arms constantly stand on end, but it’s made worse by Calum’s constant presence. Ashton needs to keep tabs on him, and that means showing up to the coffee shop every morning, trying to catch a hint of sulfur underneath the sweet scent of coffee. Calum greets him with a charming smile every time and a new concoction, each one grossly sweet. It makes Ashton’s skin crawl.
Sometimes a different barista makes his brew, Calum at work in the back helping with the baking. Michael’s family are the ones who actually own the shop, and Michael himself is a relatively cheerful guy with shaggy blond hair. He’s been friends with Calum since they were kids, and Ashton’s heart twists with the knowledge that there’s a demon inside his best friend right now. Depending on how long it’s been in there, the Calum that Michael knows could very well be dead.
Ashton fills his days wandering around town, on occasion branching out to one of the other small villages in the surrounding countryside to explore what they have to offer. He needs to stay close in case Calum tries something or he manages to get out of their deal and can properly dispose of him, but staring at the walls of his temporary apartment aren’t doing him any good. He does some research for Luke when he calls and keeps all of his weapons in working order, but otherwise there’s not much he can do as a hunter.
(His set of wooden stakes was returned neatly in a box on his doorstep the minute he signed the lease for the apartment. He hasn’t touched them since.)
It’s a relief when he gets hints of strange happenings in a town a county over. He never does well with down time, and being able to go on a hunt near his base will make it feel like his time in Springville isn’t being wasted twiddling his thumbs and trying to get Calum to slip up somehow.
It seems like a normal ghost issue, some vengeful spirit who died years ago and has been making trouble in late summer ever since, so Ashton takes a few day trips to gather more information, then sets out one night to take care of the problem. He’s in such a good mood that he sings along to the radio on the way there.
“You’ve got a great voice,” someone says from his backseat, accompanied by a whiff of sulfur. Ashton barely manages to stop himself from flinching.
“What are you doing here?” he asks. “You know, I could have devil traps carved in the seats. Popping into my car uninvited is stupid.”
Ashton glances in the rearview mirror and catches Calum’s shrug. He’s still dressed in all black, a leather jacket over his normal shirt and jeans to keep out the autumn chill. The leather looks worn and soft, fitting him like a glove. He wonders if it was part of human-Calum’s wardrobe or if it’s something that the demon added when he took over the body.
“You didn’t exactly inspire faith in your hunting abilities last time,” Calum says. “Just wanted to tag along in case you need me.”
“I don’t,” Ashton snaps. “I’ve been a hunter for ten years, you know. I’ve got a fucking great track record.”
Calum is smiling, the bastard. Ashton adjusts his grip on the steering wheel and turns his eyes back to the road.
“What do you care, anyway?” he asks. “Wouldn’t it be better if I was gone?”
“Can’t tempt people who are dead,” Calum quotes.
“And you’re trying to tempt me?”
Calum leans forward, fading into Ashton’s periphery with his elbow braced on the passenger chair.
“You seemed kinda into it that first day,” he says. “Believe me, sweetheart. I’ve been around long enough to recognize the signs.”
“Put your seatbelt on or get out of my car,” Ashton says, refusing to give Calum the satisfaction of getting a rise out of him. “And stay out of my way while I’m hunting. If you mess this up for me I’m going to exorcize you, deal or not.”
“I’m just here to help, cross my heart.”
Calum leans back in his seat. Ashton had hoped he would leave, but they spend the rest of the ride in tense silence, the radio the only sound in the car, fizzing out on occasion when they hit a dead zone.
The body of the ghost was cremated, so Ashton is looking for an object that belonged to the ghost and is keeping it tethered here. Research suggests that it’s a wristwatch she always wore but that no one knows the location of. The ghost haunts a campsite outside of Gowanda, so Ashton pulls in there. It’s unnaturally silent in the way a lot of haunted places are, still and eerie without any campers around.
Calum trails him as he gets his rifle on a strap around his shoulder, a can of salt that he puts in a satchel at his hip, and an iron bar from the trunk. Ashton can feel his presence at his back and hear his footsteps, but otherwise he stays silent, too, and he gives Ashton an appropriately wide berth.
For a moment, Ashton considers trying to use the weapons in his hands against him. It would be a moot point, though. In order to properly exorcise Calum, he needs to trap him. The iron and salt in his hands might hurt the demon enough for him to abandon his vessel and if Ashton gets human-Calum to a hospital he might survive, but without an exorcism his deal would still be valid and the hellhounds would come after him.
Ashton has never tried to outrun any of those because he’s never been dumb enough to get caught in a deal before. Somehow he doesn’t think he’d get very far.
Calum clears his throat softly. Ashton wants to strangle him, but Calum doesn’t say anything, just points to a spot across the campsite where mist has gathered at the treeline.
Right. It seems that the angry spirit has come out to play sooner rather than later. Now instead of simply finding the dropped watch that’s likely been buried deep in the woods, Ashton has to do that while not dying. It’s nothing he hasn’t done before, but that doesn’t mean he’s looking forward to it.
“It’s a watch, right?” Calum asks, voice barely a whisper in Ashton’s ear. He hadn’t heard him come closer.
He nods in response. Calum disappears, leaving Ashton alone in the woods with a vengeful spirit who is going to reveal itself at any moment.
Ashton creeps closer, giving the mist a wide berth. The place where the camper disappeared and her remains were found is further in the woods by just over half a mile, but turning his back to the mist isn’t something he particularly wants to do.
Of course, that’s when he gets jumped from the front and flung across the campsite. Ashton knows how to take a hit from years of flying through the air and landing hard, and he fires off a salt round into the spirit before he manages to get up or catch his breath. Then he’s off and running, leaping over branches and scratching his face on leaves in his mission to get to the watch, wherever it may be.
The spirit throws him again, sending him face-first into the leaves. It lets out a guttural screech and he swings the iron bar in his hand wildly as he rolls over, thankfully swiping through the spirit before it can do anything else. He scrambles back to his feet, slipping on the uneven ground, and takes off again.
The next time he gets thrown, he lands hard on his shoulder, knocking it out of place with a sickening crack. He doesn’t have time to put it back in. He barely has time to get up before the spirit is going to be after him again.
“Hey!” Calum yells somewhere to his left. He’s holding his hand high above his head, something clutched in it. “Over here, bitch!”
He found the fucking watch.
The spirit completely abandons Ashton to go after him, flying past while Calum turns heel and runs. Ashton pushes himself up, stumbling over to the hole Calum made while digging it up, deep enough that the entire forest won’t go up if he drops a lighter in. He pours salt into it and cranes his neck, trying to see where the demon ran off to.
“Calum?” he calls.
The watch drops into the hole, Calum gone again in a puff of smoke. Ashton gets the lighter going on the first try and drops it in, rearing back when the flames shoot up like they always do with cursed objects or old bones. One last shriek echoes through the air, seemingly coming from all around the woods, then everything falls silent.
Calum reappears once the fire has faded down to embers and helps Ashton shovel dirt on top of it.
“Your shoulder is dislocated,” he observes.
“Yeah,” Ashton says. “I’ll pop it back in.”
“Want help?” Calum asks. “I’m not allowed to hurt you, remember. It’ll probably be better for you than slamming it against a tree.”
That was exactly what Ashton had been planning on doing.
“Come on,” Calum says, stepping behind him. Ashton takes a deep breath, bracing himself against the feeling of Calum’s hands on him.
“Ready?” Calum asks. He nods. “Okay. On three.”
He snaps the joint back into place without bothering to count. Ashton grunts, gingerly removing it from Calum’s hold and testing the mobility. It hurts, but it’s functional. He has a sling that he’ll put on back at the apartment for the next few days.
This is the second time Calum has managed to save him on a hunt. He doesn’t know what the demon is playing at.
“Are you riding back with me or teleporting?” Ashton asks, the closest to a “thanks” he’s going to get.
“With you,” Calum says, but Ashton clearly hears the pleased “you’re welcome” contained within it.
They head back to the car in silence. Ashton turns on the radio once Calum buckles himself into the passenger seat, letting the old tunes and road underneath their wheels say everything else that they’re not going to.
3.
Three weeks later, a piece of paper slides under his door with the words it’s a siren, take earplugs and a bronze dagger written on it in a nonsensical mixture of capitals and lowercase. The other side of the paper is a coupon for a free coffee.
Ashton cashes in the free coffee the next morning, sporting a new black eye but a triumphant smile.
“Rough night?” Calum asks, getting his order ready automatically. Ashton watches him put a shot of blueberry flavoring in it, slide it over to Ashton, then immediately set about making a plain black coffee for him to drink when the blueberry inevitably makes him screw up his face in disgust.
“Pretty good one, actually,” Ashton says. “Got a hot tip about a lady out in Cattaraugus that proved to be pretty useful.”
“Huh,” Calum says, barely disguising his smile. “Wonder where that came from.”
“Guess we’ll never know,” Ashton shrugs, sliding the coupon over, Calum’s scraggly handwriting on display. “So, how was your night? What were you up to?”
Calum tells him a story about the movie night he had with Michael, passing over the coffee with unnecessary flair. Ashton listens closely.
He thought he caught a whiff of sulfur yesterday while fighting the siren, but he must’ve been mistaken.
4.
“Where you off to?” Calum asks when he sees Ashton swing a duffle bag into his car two weeks later, casually leaning against the car in a way that would’ve made Ashton burn with rage when he first got here. Ashton’s shiner is barely visible now, basically fully healed, and he’s ready to get into another fight, but he’s not itching for one with the demon today. It’s surprisingly difficult to muster up anger at him these days, especially since Calum keeps inviting him to hang out with him and Michael, slowly pulling him into the activities going on around town and saving him from boredom.
“Buffalo,” he says, taking a seat and twisting the key in the ignition. Calum peers in the open window at him. “Heard about a job down there.”
“Sweet,” Calum says, opening the passenger door and swinging into the seat.
“Um, no,” Ashton says. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Coming with.”
“No you’re not,” Ashton says.
“Too late!” Calum replies, grabbing the seatbelt. “I’m already buckled in. Besides, it’s my day off and my sister’s there. Might as well pop in for a visit.”
Ashton freezes.
“Another demon?” he asks, soft enough that no one on the street should hear but with a steel edge to his words.
“No, not like that,” Calum says, shifting in his seat. “Human. Calum’s sister, I guess.”
Ashton’s heart clenches as he pulls out of the parking spot and gets on the road. It’s easy to forget what Calum really is when he interacts with Michael, referencing inside jokes that make him wheeze or sending him to the back to bake when he needs a break at the counter, but all of that is false. That’s just a creature wearing Calum’s face, tricking all of his loved ones into trusting it despite the fact that the real Calum is either trapped in a nightmare or dead.
“Actually, fuck that,” Calum says suddenly. “She’s my sister.”
“No, she’s not,” Ashton says. “You’re inhabiting her brother’s body and lying to her.”
“I’ve been Calum as long as she’s known me. Calum the human died when he was ten minutes old, and I’ve been inhabiting him since he was nine minutes.”
“You possessed a fucking baby? ”
“It was a good idea!” Calum defends. “He was born premature and wasn’t going to make it anyway. I got a permanent body without having to deal with a backseat driver, plus by infiltrating a community I can play the long game with everyone.”
“What the fuck,” Ashton says softly, eyes on the road.
“I’m just saying, you can stop freaking out about the state of Calum the Human in here. It’s just me. It always has been. Getting rid of me isn’t going to give anyone their brother or son or best friend back, it’s just going to take him away.”
“You could be lying.”
“And I could be telling the truth. There’s nothing you can do about it either way unless you get out of the deal somehow.”
“You’re saying you willingly went through puberty?”
Calum makes a face that Ashton catches out of the corner of his eye.
“It gave me an excuse to be moody and terrible, at least.”
Ashton turns that thought over in his mind. He can’t imagine a demon allowing itself to become a child, needing to obey parents and be dependent on them for things like food or shelter. It’s a creative lie, but it’s probably a lie nonetheless.
“Can we meet my sister for dinner?” Calum asks. “I know a good burger place and you need to try buffalo wings in Buffalo. It’s our biggest claim to fame.”
“No,” Ashton says shortly. “The priority is the job. It’s probably a werewolf.”
“Aren’t you going to hunt them at night? You’re just going to starve until then?”
“I have to gather a lot of information first. I don’t know when I’m going to eat dinner or how much time I’ll have.”
“Yeah, but you have me helping you,” Calum says. “Double the brain power, so double the time for dinner! I’m going to text Mali.”
“Are you sure we’re at the meeting-the-siblings stage?” Ashton asks as Calum digs his phone out of his pocket. He has to squirm to do it because his jeans are so tight, and Ashton keeps his eyes firmly fixed on the road in front of him.
“Oh, babe, this is the taking-you-to-dinner stage,” Calum says. “Don’t worry, I won’t take you to meet my parents until after we’ve fucked a few times.”
“Not gonna happen,” Ashton says.
“Why?” Calum asks. “Did you paint a devil’s trap under your bed? Because we can just do it at mine. Or in the kitchen. Or literally anywhere.”
“Calum,” he says sharply.
“Fine, bite my head off,” Calum mutters, turning away from Ashton to look out his window. He’s pouting, which is not a skill that a demon should have. It’s jarring to see.
In another life where Calum isn’t a demon and Ashton hasn’t sworn to hunt those, he would be all over him in a heartbeat. Calum is attractive, with his soft curls that Ashton wants to tangle his fingers in and smooth skin that he wants to run his tongue over. He’s got a sense of humor, always joking with Michael or laughing at whatever Ashton says, bright and open, smile so wide it makes his eyes crinkle at the corners. Obviously he can flirt, too, and Ashton likes that. He’s always enjoyed banter, whether it goes anywhere or not.
The biggest mindfuck is that he’s kind. Ashton has seen him smile at patrons in the coffee shop and ask questions about their lives, wave at children on the street who beam and wave back, and hold the door open for people behind him. They’re all small things, but they’re instinctual, done without a second thought, as easy as breathing. Demons are good at pretending, but Ashton hasn’t caught him slip yet. He hasn’t seen the demon shine through underneath the human mask, and he’s been here for a long time already.
People like Calum used to give him a lot of hope when he was on the road. It’s easy to become jaded with this job, easy to let some sort of darkness in when you’re running around with guns playing judge and executioner, and people like Calum used to remind him that it was worth it. All of the sleepless nights, injuries, motel rooms, and broken laws were worth it because there were still good people in the world who deserved to be safe. There were still people who would hold the door open for him or chat while making coffee with a smile on their face.
He thought Calum was one of those people, but he’s one of the monsters, instead.
He flicks on the radio. A commercial fills the car, but it’s better than silence, and when the next song starts Calum taps his foot along.
-/-
Ashton and Calum arrive for dinner in a small, crowded place with dark lighting and loud music. Calum was frustratingly competent helping Ashton gather the information he needs to confirm that it is a werewolf that is tearing out hearts every full moon and figure out where the monster is likely to hit tonight, so Ashton had no choice but to accompany him to dinner.
Part of him is a little curious. He wants to know how someone who grew up alongside a demon might have turned out.
Ashton recognizes Mali-Koa the moment he sees her because she looks exactly like Calum. They have the same dark hair, although hers is straight, and the same round cheeks and wide smile. She lights up once she spots Calum waving at her, rushing forward to capture him in a hug. Calum squeezes her tightly, fitting her into his arms like she belongs there. When they separate they beam at each other for a moment before Calum fully steps back.
“Mali, this is Ashton,” he says, gesturing him forward. “He’s the guy I told you about.”
“Nice to meet you, Ashton,” she says, shaking his hand warmly. “Has my little brother been getting into much trouble in Springville? I can never trust Michael’s reports.”
There are a lot of things that Ashton would like to say to that, but Calum pointed out that revealing anything about the supernatural to his sister would be hurting him emotionally, and Ashton can’t risk that possibly being counted under the terms of their deal.
“Not as much as he could be,” he decides to say.
“Good,” Mali says. “If you had said no then something would be wrong.”
She knocks her shoulder into Calum’s on their way to the table, sharing a private smile with him.
Dinner is a shockingly fun affair. Mali is a great conversationalist and Calum blossoms next to her, spending half the meal smiling at her rather than eating. Mali and Ashton share a plate of buffalo wings that taste amazing while Calum shares updates on Springville. Mali gives her own overview of her life in Buffalo during the main course, when she and Ashton get burgers and Calum orders a veggie burger, since apparently he’s vegetarian. Ashton has no clue why a demon would do that, but Calum so far hasn’t conformed to any of the demonic expectations he had.
Mali also doesn’t fit any expectations Ashton might have had. She’s charming, and when she asks Ashton questions about what he does or who he is he listens attentively to the answer. She has a better sense of humor than Calum does, but shoots the demon affectionate looks when he cracks up at the things Ashton says and keeps up seamlessly with their banter.
She’s very… normal. She complains about her job and pokes fun at the both of them, but Ashton enjoys himself more than he thought he would. She’s just a regular person who loves her brother. Calum loves her back just as much, and dinner with her gives him a mood boost so strong that he’s still riding it when they set out to hunt the werewolf that night.
Ashton almost gets his heart clawed out because Calum is fucking whistling, but whatever. At least Calum also pushes him out of the way and distracts the werewolf enough to give Ashton a clear opening to stick some silver in it.
“This is the… fourth time I’ve saved you, I think? Third or fourth,” Calum says once they get back to the car, the werewolf body taken care of and Buffalo safe from the supernatural for another night. “How did you survive before me?”
“I wasn’t spending half my focus trying to ensure that you’re not about to stab me in the back.”
“Contractually I can’t,” Calum reminds him. “I can do a lot of things, but going back on a deal is not one of them.”
“That doesn’t mean I can trust you.
Calum sighs.
“Are you ever going to?” he asks. Ashton keeps his eyes on the road, leading the cars through the twisting roads and farmland on the way back to their tiny town. In Springville they’re far enough away from cities to see a lot of stars as long as the sky is clear, but right now it’s cloudy, the only stars an occasional pair of headlights on this long road.
“You hate me because of what I am, which I get. I do. But I haven’t done anything to you.”
“You trapped me in a deal I wanted no part of.”
“I couldn’t risk you figuring out about me and trying to attack. I’ve been here for 25 years. I wasn’t going to let you destroy everything. Besides, it’s not like it’s a bad deal. The fact that I’ve helped you on four hunts already proves that.”
Ashton sighs.
“I can’t,” he says softly, because it’s the truth. As great as Calum has been, there will always be a part of Ashton who is waiting for the other shoe to drop, even if that part gets smaller and smaller every day.
Ashton once knew a vampire named Ashley who swore to never feed off a human. She was recently turned and terrified, so Ashton didn’t kill her. He couldn’t. For weeks they kept in touch, occasionally meeting up when Ashton was in town, until the one day he was called on a hunt to find her standing over a body, blood dripping from her mouth, fangs extended.
He had to drive a stake into her heart. In the end, he didn’t recognize her eyes. She had no humanity left.
Instinct always wins over conscience when it comes to the supernatural. Calum can’t help what he is, but Ashton can stop himself from getting attached in any way.
“I’m sorry, for what it’s worth,” he says. “I wish I could trust you.”
They spend the rest of the drive back in silence.
5.
Ashton asks for Calum’s help with the vetala. The creatures hunt in pairs, so it makes sense to bring another person, and Calum is the only person in Springville who knows about the supernatural. Besides, he’s helped Ashton four times before. As much as Ashton may distrust him, he’s by far the person that he’s spent the most time with in recent months, whether they’re chatting in the coffee shop, running into each other in the park, or meeting to see a movie in the tiny, one-screen cinema down the street.
Calum bounced back quickly after Buffalo, greeting Ashton as chipper as ever in the coffee shop the next day as if the conversation in Ashton’s car had never happened. It was a return to the status quo that Ashton hadn’t realized he was worried about losing, but he’s thankful for it. Having Calum ring up his coffee and take up the passenger seat of his car on the way to a hunt feels right. He’ll have to get used to living without him once the deal is broken and he has to exorcise him, but he’ll cross that bridge when he gets to it.
Maybe he’ll leave before they reach that point. There’s nothing in the deal that says he has to stay in Springville and see the job through. Calum hasn’t so much as lifted a finger since Ashton rolled into town, and he managed to stay under the radar enough for the previous 25 years. How much harm is he going to do, really?
He doesn’t have time to entertain that thought right now, because he’s in the middle of fighting off one of the vetala that have decided to use a neighboring town as a free buffet. Her eyes are snake-like slits, teeth pointed fangs, and she’s got both superspeed and superstrength on her side. Ashton’s thankful that he brought Calum along, because fighting her and her partner would have him dead within a minute. With Calum scuffling with the other vetala somewhere across the warehouse, he at least has a chance.
The vetala lunges. Ashton barely gets out of the way in time, slashing her with his silver knife and scrambling back out of range. If any of her venom gets on him, he’s done for. It’ll paralyze him in an instant. Vetalas prefer to capture their prey and toy with them for a while, but with a steady stream of venom there would be no hope of escape. He needs to stab her with his silver knife and twist it once, and he needs to do it now. If they move to a second location, he’s already lost.
Ashton dodges another lunge, pushing all other thoughts out of his mind and running on instinct. The vetala is too fast to allow him to think through his actions, so he tries to weaken her where he can, dodging as much as possible and swinging widely with the knife when he can’t. It barely slows her down, but the silver works more than his fists or any other kind of material would.
He needs an opening to get to her heart, but she's not giving him one.
A slash of her claws catches him in the chest. It's shallow, but it hurts, tearing through his shirt and leaving four long trails of red on him. The second it takes him to flinch is all the time the vetala needs to knock him down and bat his knife away, barring her fangs. He lands heavily on his back, scrambling for anything else within reach he can use as a weapon.
Calum comes out of absolutely nowhere. One moment the vetala is on him, fangs dangerously close to the juncture of his neck and shoulder, and the next she's rolling across the warehouse, grappling with the demon. Ashton pushes himself up, wincing at the pain, and grabs the knife. As soon as he has his feet under him he runs, stabbing the vetala a second after she sticks her fangs in Calum, twisting the knife once and watching her dissolve into dust.
Calum pants on the floor, blinking rapidly. His chest is heaving.
"You good?" Ashton asks. Calum nods and tries to push himself up, but his arms buckle underneath him and send him right back down to the floor.
"Hey, woah," Ashton says, dropping down next to him, hands fluttering over Calum's body. The only visible wound is the bite mark, but it shouldn't affect a demon like that. Demons aren't beholden to the body they inhabit, and regular injuries typically don’t process for them. Maybe she somehow got him with iron or salt, or maybe the other vetala did, something to explain why Calum looks unnaturally pale.
"It's fine," Calum says, arms twitching at his side but not batting Ashton's hands away. "I'm fine. Just give me a second."
"What's wrong?" he asks. Calum's fingers twitch again, but he still makes no move to get up.
"Give me a second," he repeats, harsher this time. Ashton sits back on his heels and waits, letting Calum go through the complicated process of getting his limbs to work again, a process which he shouldn't even need.
"You know," Calum says when he finally sits up, "this is the fifth time I've saved you on a hunt, I think? So I don't think you should be allowed to try to hunt me anymore, deal be damned. I think I should just make you a coffee with good cream and you should be on your way."
"Trying to get rid of me?" Ashton asks lightly, grabbing his arm and helping him to his feet.
"Never," Calum replies. "I need someone to hunt all the other supernatural creatures in upstate New York. I just think my name should be permanently removed from that list."
"Yeah, yeah," Ashton says. "We'll revisit that idea if you actually find a coffee order I like besides just black."
They start walking back to the car, Calum leaning on Ashton. It's the most physical contact they've ever had. Calum is a warm presence along his side, not the nearly-dead cold of most demons, yet Ashton can clearly smell the sulfur that always surrounds him. It's a strange juxtaposition that he doesn't know how to process.
"You're bleeding," Calum points out once they're out of the warehouse and into the night. "You can't go home like that. Someone might see."
"It'll be fine," Ashton says. "No one is awake in Springville this late."
"Are you good to drive all the way back? You can't wear a seatbelt properly like that, and I know how much you love your seatbelts."
It takes some convincing, but Calum manages to strong-arm Ashton into sitting on the hood of the car so he can wrap some gauze around him. He gently peels Ashton’s shirt away, apologizing softly when he winces, then gets to work with the gauze and medical tape, carefully moving Ashton’s arms when they’re in the way. Ashton can feel his breath brush his collarbones, warm against the cold of the night.
By the time Ashton is fully patched up, Calum seems as good as new, too, with none of the paleness or twitchy fingers he had in the warehouse.
Maybe it was a trick of the light.
Maybe Ashton just wishes that that was it so he doesn't have to deal with any of these new implications.
When Calum steps back and opens the passenger door to settle in for the ride home, Ashton almost misses his presence.
+1
There's another hunter in Springville.
Ashton meets him first in the coffee shop on one of the days where Michael is at the front. Ashton has a usual spot at the counter now, always willing to chat with him and occasionally catch glimpses of Calum in the back, and he enjoys watching the people of Springville come and go as they get their own caffeine fixes. Ashton himself is recognized by a lot of them by now, like Ms. Kolek who comes in with her new baby on Wednesdays, Julie who teaches music during the school year and always orders some sort of egg and toast, and Frank the electrician who tries a new coffee every day.
The man who approaches the counter this time is unfamiliar, dressed in dark jeans and heavy work boots with mud long dried on them. He walks with the sort of confidence Ashton recognizes comes from carrying a weapon, and he speaks with a slow southern drawl when he orders, obviously not from these parts.
Ashton catches sight of the anti-possession tattoo when he hands over cash to Michael in exchange for his coffee. It's dark and fresh, proudly displayed on his hand while Ashton hides his own on his chest near his left shoulder.
He’s suddenly very glad that Calum is working in the back today.
Michael doesn't sense anything off about the guy, chatting amicably as he makes him some coffee, but Ashton's skin is crawling. He tries to keep watch out of the corner of his eye, listening in on their conversation without looking suspicious himself. It's uncannily similar to Ashton's first conversation in Springville: just passing through, I'm looking for someone, are there any other newcomers?
"Just Ashton here," Michael says, gesturing to him. Ashton gives a polite wave. "He's been here a few months at this point, though. Maybe one of the neighboring towns has had a bit more traffic."
The hunter looks at him, no doubt taking in everything Ashton had first noticed about him. He can’t tell if it’s enough to clock him as another hunter without the visible tattoo, though, but he hopes it’s not. Until he knows why this guy is here, he doesn’t necessarily want to reveal himself. He doesn’t recognize the name that this guy introduced himself with, but that doesn’t mean that the guy won’t recognize him if he adds Irwin to his own introduction. Ashton has one of the more well-known reputations in hunting circles, for better or worse.
The hunter turns back to Michael and continues that conversation, switching topics to events going on in Springville and the surrounding area. Ashton sips his coffee slowly, eavesdropping until the man takes his to-go cup and leaves.
“He seemed nice,” Michael says. Ashton hums, but otherwise doesn’t reply. He’s got a gut feeling that says the opposite.
-/-
There are no new creatures around to hunt within two hours of Springville. Ashton calls Luke to confirm, and Luke is the most-informed hunter he knows. There’s nothing here that the new hunter should be looking for; Ashton has made sure of that with his hunts over the past few months. Upstate New York is safe, yet the hunter stays in town, renting out a room in the hotel and prowling Main Street every day. It sets Ashton’s teeth on edge.
The only explanation he can come up with is that the hunter somehow knows about Calum. The thought sends panic coursing through Ashton’s system, which doesn’t make sense. If this hunter takes care of Calum, Ashton will be free from the deal. He won’t have to worry about what he’s going to do to break it and there will be one less demon topside in America. This should be a good thing, but all that Ashton can think about is quiet car rides with both of them listening to the radio, the flash of his smile as he gives Ashton yet another horrible coffee order, and the late nights with both of them talking in the park long after everyone else has gone to bed.
They never plan these talks, but Ashton texted Calum earlier, asking if he wants to meet. Calum said he would, but it’s going on 2:30 and he hasn’t appeared.
Calum didn’t phrase it as a deal, but he always sticks to his word, anyway. He says that it’s a product of working the crossroads, but Ashton thinks it’s more likely that it’s just a product of him being Calum. Every other demon he’s met lies and cheats at every opportunity, but Calum is surprisingly honest, like he prides himself on being able to keep his promises.
He said he’d be here half an hour ago.
There’s no use breaking into his apartment to check if he’s there. Ashton could easily pick the lock if he wanted to, but Calum doesn’t need sleep and there’s nothing else there that would prevent him from either meeting with Ashton or picking up his phone. He’s not here because something is keeping him away, and that means that he’s not in his apartment.
Hunters don’t cause scenes in residential areas. There’s too many variables involved, and in a profession where discretion is key, big scenes need to play out in secluded areas. There’s a broken-down barn a few miles out of the main town that Ashton scoped out when he first got here, just in case. It’s big enough for a devil’s trap and secure enough to salt if necessary, and it’s the logical place for any hunter to lure a creature.
Ashton gets in his car and speeds the entire way there. Another car is parked outside by the time he gets there, old and battered in the way that most hunter’s cars are. The sight of it sends nausea rolling through him. He makes sure his gun is loaded and nearly stumbles out of his car before he remembers himself.
It will do no good to run into this situation blind. He could be wrong about Calum’s whereabouts and interrupt something much worse. If it is Calum even in there, then what is he trying to accomplish? Free him? Watch the hunter kill him?
He creeps around to the door, hoping his footfalls are light enough to get lost in the ambient noise of night in the country. Thankfully whoever is inside isn’t bothering to be quiet themselves; Ashton recognizes the low drawl of the hunter even before he peeks through a crack in the door and is able to see him.
Calum is there, too, kneeling on the ground with blood on his face. Ashton can’t see a devil’s trap or salt line keeping him contained, but that doesn’t mean that there isn’t one.
“What I can’t figure out,” the hunter says, “is who or what you’re protecting. What’s so special about Springville, huh?”
“Nothing,” Calum replies, a steely edge to his voice. “I’ve already told you. If I was protecting something, you’d already know about it, wouldn’t you?”
“I thought it had to do with that coffee shop, maybe the other barista? But I can’t find anything weird about him. Then I thought maybe that other guy you’re always hanging out with, Ashton. Easy enough to see that something’s off about him, and one fake text from him was enough to lure you out here. So tell me: what’s so special about that guy that you haven’t escaped yet?”
“Do you want me to escape?” Calum asks. “Because I hate to disappoint you, but the only way I’m leaving Springville is if you exorcise me. I like the weather too much.”
“Not until I know why you’re here.”
“There’s no reason! Besides, what are you going to do, torture it out of me? I’ve been to hell, mate. I can withstand whatever you throw at me.”
“But can the others?” the hunter asks. “Have Ashton and Michael been to hell yet?”
Calum clenches his jaw, glaring at the hunter.
Why isn’t he leaving? If there’s nothing holding him here, why hasn’t he gotten as far from Springville as possible? Surely he knows that Ashton can protect Michael if the hunter chooses to go after him, but leaving would imply that there’s nothing left here for him to protect. Calum could easily find another vessel and continue doing his demonly business elsewhere, and the hunter would become Ashton’s problem or get bored and leave.
“If you touch either one of them, I’m going to kill you, and you’re going to wish you got rid of me first,” he says. The hunter laughs.
“Well, then, guess I’d better get on that exorcism.”
“Hey!”
The hunter whips around to face him, getting a gun to his face for his troubles. His own is still holstered, although he has a knife in his hand, possibly made of iron, since it lacks the grey look of silver.
“I think it’d be best for you to leave Springville,” Ashton says steadily. “The other option is I put a bullet in your head.”
“And leave a demon and whatever the fuck you are here to roam free?” the hunter asks.
“Have you noticed a lack of other monsters in this area?” Ashton asks. “I’ve hunted them all. You can talk to Hemmings if you don’t believe me. But if you ever come back to Springville again, I’m adding you to the list. Leave Calum to me.”
The hunter falters, just like Ashton hoped he would. The Hemmings name holds a lot of weight in these circles, and people don’t tend to throw it around lightly.
“You know Hemmings?” he asks.
“Check with him, if you want,” Ashton says. “He’ll tell you that Ashton Irwin cleared this area. It’s not your place to hunt here, especially not him.”
He gestures to Calum, still kneeling frozen on the floor. His eyes are wide as he watches the exchange, and Ashton is hit with the realization that he didn’t expect anyone to rescue him. He’s saved Ashton’s life more than once, but he didn’t think he would return the favor.
“Irwin?” the hunter asks. “The same Irwin who handled that demon issue in LA two years ago?”
“And the one in Milwaukee before that,” Ashton says.
The hunter falters more, glancing back at Calum.
“What are you going to do with him?” he asks. Ashton keeps his own gaze firmly fixed on the hunter, gun still outstretched before him.
“I don’t know yet,” he says. “I had a plan, but you fucked that up.”
The hunter flinches. Good. The ones with the biggest bark always cower when a fighting dog enters the ring, and Ashton has done his fair share of snarling and biting in the past.
“Get. Out,” he says clearly. It’s enough. The hunter scrambles for the door, trying to inch around it in a way that keeps both Ashton and Calum in sight, then leaves. Ashton stands with his gun pointed at the opening until he hears a car engine start up and peel away.
“Are you okay?” he asks, running to Calum’s side and dropping down next to him. The blood on his face is mostly dried, coming from some sort of wound near his temple. Hit with an iron bar, perhaps? He winces when he shifts, too, like something got him in the ribs.
“Why did you do that?” Calum asks.
“What?” Ashton asks. He reaches out to check Calum’s ribs further and ensure that nothing is broken, but Calum grabs his hands before he can, grip tight enough that it’s almost painful.
“Why did you do that?” he repeats. “You should’ve let him exorcise me. Then you’d be free of your deal and wouldn’t have to do it yourself. You just fucked up a perfectly good opportunity.”
“You can’t leave,” Ashton says simply. Calum scowls.
“Don’t fucking tell me what to do.”
“No, you can’t leave,” Ashton repeats. “You’re stuck in your body, aren’t you? You’ve been here too long. That’s why the vetala venom affected you and why you didn’t escape when the hunter had you. You physically can’t. You’ve been in this body longer than any demon is supposed to possess someone and have gone native.”
Calum stays quiet, which is all the confirmation that Ashton needs. No wonder he didn’t clock Calum as a demon when they first met; all demons smell like sulfur, but Calum’s scent is lessened. His human qualities don’t just come from being around them for over two decades, but from becoming something similar.
He’s not human. He’s never going to be human. He’s always going to be a demon, but maybe not quite. Not fully.
“How long have you known?” Calum asks quietly. He releases Ashton’s hands enough for him to continue checking his ribs, wincing at his touch but not flinching away.
“I didn’t figure it out until tonight,” he says. “Pretty glad I did, though.”
“Why?” Calum asks. Ashton takes a deep breath.
“Lots of reasons,” he says. “This means I’ll be able to more accurately predict what you can and can’t do when we go on hunts, for one thing. I feel better staying in town while knowing that you’re not zipping around out of your body and watching me shower, or something. And… I kind of want to kiss you, and it’s nicer knowing that you’re going to feel it all the same way that I do. It’s your body, not just a vessel, and there’s different physicality to that.”
“Are you sure you want to?” Calum asks. “You don’t think I somehow tricked you into this?”
“I know you didn’t,” he says. “Besides, you’ve helped me five times now. I’ve kissed worse people for a lot less.”
“I’m still a demon,” Calum says. “I don’t think I can love you.”
“I’m not asking you to,” Ashton says. “I’m just asking you to stop giving me cream in my coffee. I think I’ll be sticking around for a while.”
Calum smiles. It looks like Mali’s smile, stretching wide and with the same human-like joy. All of it is Calum, not a mask. Ashton has never seen the cracks in his façade because he doesn’t use one.
“Come on,” he says, offering Calum a hand up. “It’s time to get you back home.”
“Wait,” Calum says, tugging him back. He presses his lips softly to Ashton’s, the antithesis of whatever expectations he might have had for their first kiss. It’s warm and gentle. Ashton can’t even taste the blood dripping down Calum’s face, even though he knows it’s there.
“Okay,” Calum says softly when he pulls back. His eyes crinkle at the corners when he looks at Ashton. “Let’s go home.”
