Page 12 of In Darkness and Dank

The monster.

The beautiful black-and-blue monster was here in his tent!

Kittisak’s heart was about to pound its way out of his chest, and his feet were frozen to the ground. He thought that he had to have fallen asleep and this was another dream, but the monster was vivid and glittering and so very, very real.

Which meant everything that happened last night was real too, and Kittisak’s face immediately flushed hot. He knew he should have been terrified, but the raw emotion pumping all the blood in his body above his neck was embarrassment—God, yes, because of course he had held the monster’s hand last night and totally checked out his weird smooth crotch hoping to see some sort of fantastic dick.

The cherry on top was Kittisak wasn’t wearing anything except his damn boxers, and the desire to melt into the dirt beneath his feet was overpowering.

The monster must have climbed up the ridge outside from the river to creep in the back of Kittisak’s tent. His demeanor was calm, curious, and he cocked his head as if he didn’t understand why Kittisak was so startled. He made a squeezing motion with his big, clawed hands. He chirped, a short squeak that sounded like a bird, and made the same gesture again.

“Were you…?” Kittisak blinked. “Were you trying to give me a massage?”

“Massage?” The monster repeated.

“A massage. Trying to rub my back?” Kittisak made the same squeezing motion with his hand over his shoulder where the monster had grabbed him.

The monster chirped again.

Kittisak slowly stepped forward, his pulse still firing away at heart attack inducing levels. He could hardly catch his breath, staring up at this magnificent creature.

The monster couldn’t even stand at his full height in the tiny tent and yet he still loomed over Kittisak. He waited until Kittisak was close before he slowly extended his hands, resting each one on either of Kittisak’s shoulders. He squeezed lightly, being mindful not to press with his claws, and started to rub.

Kittisak melted immediately, and he smiled like an absolute fool.

Here he was, practically naked, getting a massage from a gorgeous monster who had snuck up into his tent like they were teenagers creeping around together after curfew. Again, he logically knew that he should be terrified, but he couldn’t help but feel safe with this strange creature.

“Massage?” the monster asked.

“Massage,” Kittisak confirmed with a little laugh. His mind was flooded with a million questions—what was the monster doing here? Did he have a name? Why had he come back? Did he know about what happened to the grave?

Also, wait, was the monster technically naked all the time since he didn’t wear clothes?

That last one made Kittisak’s face heat up, and he had to use every ounce of willpower not to look down at the monster’s crotch—fuck, too late.

Yup. Ken doll.

Kittisak cleared his throat, saying, “Thank you,” because that was much more polite than asking where the monster’s junk was hiding.

The monster continued on, and he was making a little trilling noise now that sounded very happy.

“Thank you,” Kittisak tried again as he reached for the monster’s wrists. “Hey, you can stop now. Do you understand stop?”

The monster apparently didn’t because he kept on rubbing.

Kittisak patted the monster’s wrist harder. “Hey. Stop.”

“Prrp?” the monster chirped, his hands finally halting.

“Good.” Kittisak nodded and smiled brightly. They were standing so close that he could see the swirls of violet in the monster’s eyes, and it was positively hypnotizing. Kittisak’s hands drifted over to rest on the monster’s broad chest, shivering at the firm muscle he found there, and he took a deep breath. “Thank you for that. We gotta work on—”

“Kittisak?” Hutte’s worried shout preceded his entrance. “Are you all right? We thought we heard—”

“It’s one of those fucking things!” Denninger snarled as he barged in beside Hutte, and his rifle lurched up to point at the monster. Bissell and Zimm were with him with guns of their own, pushing Hutte back behind them.

Zimm stammered, “M-maybe we should just, uh, maybe we should wait just a second—”

“Shut up, Zimm,” Denninger snarled. “We have it right where we want it.”

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