So somehow Beel found himself looking for himself. It would have been comical if Jon hadn’t been so damn upset. He was on his knees, carefully moving storage around under the bed and looking for a pet frog that wasn’t in the room.
Well, he was sort of in the room. Just not as a pet frog. Hells.
Beel had no idea what to do. The bedroom door was shut, and at one point Beel figured fuck it, he’d do the bathroom thing, but when he went to open the door, Jon shouted, “No! I don’t want him hopping out! And he was in here last night, so he must still be in here. Don’t open the door!”
Only Beel hadn’t been in the aquarium last night, but Beel didn’t think pointing that out would be a good idea.
After a frantic search that seemed to last forever (but was probably only ten minutes), Jon sat back against the wall, and he looked like he was about to cry. He grabbed his phone off the nightstand before Beel could stop him and dialed it on speaker.
Beel crawled over and sat next to him, placing a hand on his knee.
“Jon, listen…” he started, but of course Az answered the phone at that moment.
“Jon! Our lovely shopkeeper! Have you found your prince yet? If you kiss enough frogs…” Az joked.
Beel wanted to groan, but Jon rushed in. “He’s gone! Fuck, Az—I don’t know what happened. He was here last night in the aquarium, and we’ve scoured the entire room, and he isn’t here, and I don’t know…” Jon trailed off, his voice cracking, and Beel put his arm around him, tugging him close.
“It will be ok, love,” Beel murmured.
Az heard him, obviously, and cackled at the phone. Jon looked at the phone disbelievingly. “Az, I lost Beel. I fucking lost Gabe’s pet frog, and he wasn’t just any pet frog—he was special. This is not funny!”
“Ah, yes, special indeed. Someone has made a tactical error, I see. Did you fall asleep? That’s my guess. Hopefully there were some good orgasms involved first!” Az laughed, clearly talking to Beel.
“That’s… I’m not… Az, focus!” Jon snapped. “Of course I slept! But that doesn’t explain why Beel is missing!”
“Fuck,” Beel whispered. “Yeah, I fell asleep.”
Az obviously heard him. “Cat’s out of the bag, my friend. Or should I say frog is out of the aquarium? Besides, it would have to come out sooner or later.”
Beel sighed, but Jon was looking at the phone, confused as fuck. “Wait, Az, do you know Damon? Do you recognize his voice?” He turned toward Beel then, asking, “Oh my god, Damon, you didn’t do anything with Beel, did you? Are you, like, a frognapper or something? What the hell is going on?”
Beel pulled his knees up to his chest and rested his head on them. “How am I supposed to explain?” he asked Az.
“Explain what! Did you do something with Beel?” Jon demanded.
“Just tell him, Beel. It will be ok. Or it won’t, because not all humans are like Gabe. And if that’s the case, then you’ll come home and be sad for a while, but you’ll have us to help get you through it with horror movies and heated rocks and popcorn. I think you should have some faith in your man, though—he seems like a good sort. So go explain. And good luck,” Az finished, and then the phone was disconnected.
Beel was afraid to pick his head up from resting on his knees, because Az had just given a lot away, and he didn’t really want to know what Jon was thinking.
“Did Az…” Jon started, and he could actually hear him swallow before he continued. “Did Az just call you Beel?” Jon questioned softly.
Beel nodded his head, still not looking up.
He was a coward, and he knew it. This couldn’t be easy for Jon, but fuck, it wasn’t easy for him either. No one but Az had ever seen him and known him in more than one form, and even Az didn’t know his human form. The uncertainty and fear was overwhelming. Beel felt a bit like he was going to throw up or start crying. Or both.
He cared for Jon more than he could even say; the depth of his feelings was actually kinda scary. He felt like if Jon never wanted to see him again that he wouldn’t recover. He knew it was melodramatic, but he couldn’t imagine Jon not in his life. His whole being ached at the thought.
Last night had beenperfect—hell, every moment with Jon, whether he was human or frog, was pretty damn perfect—and he just wanted a little more of that perfection. He guessed he had wanted the fairy tale Az kept alluding to, but he wasn’t a frog prince—he was just some lesser demon who had been summoned as a pet quite a long time ago.
“I just wanted to… I’m so sorry, Jon. I didn’t mean to lie to you. Being with you has meant everything. Watching movies, and hanging out in the shop while you worked—I loved every minute of it, from watching you help that lady with her parrot that was molting the first day to pet-blocking that asshole yesterday afternoon. But I couldn’t resist when Marcus showed up, and then there was that kiss, and I loved eating dinner with you, and talking about our lives, and more kisses, and everything that wentafterthe kisses… And I’m just… I’m really sorry,” Beel finished lamely. He still couldn’t look at Jon.
Jon just sat there for a minute, quiet. Beel had no idea what to do. Finally, he started to unfold himself, reaching a hand down to get up, saying, “I can go. I’m sorry.”
But Jon stopped him, pressing a hand to his knee. He could feel Jon looking over at him, but he stared ahead, afraid to see what was on his face. Disgust? Anger? Betrayal? He didn’t want to know.
“The fireescape story,” Jon wondered. “Thoseweremy boxers. And then parkour? And knowing about my bedtime and the pizza. And you always showed up when I was in the shower. And you were never in the shop. Not as you are now. But you know about the parrot and the asshole customer.”
Beel shrugged. “I’m not very good at cover stories. I haven’t been human in a really long time.”
