Chapter Text
Standing before the mansion fills me with a strange sense of familiarity. I have stood before it many times before, but always as a visitor. Knowing that the mansion is my new home, that Grandfather isn't waiting for me inside is...odd. Almost uncomfortable. The steps creak in the exact same places as I walk up them. The designs on the door are the same. But as I turn my new key in the old lock, the heaviness in my stomach tells me it will be a while until I can think of this place as home. I open the door, revealing the familiar entrance hall.
And the very unfamiliar bodies on the floor.
I stop, nearly dropping my luggage on the doorstep in surprise. Of all the difficulties I imagined coming with living on my own, finding five young men passed out and bleeding all over my rug never even crossed my mind. They didn't tell me how to deal with this in home ec.
I take a tentative step toward them, trying to remember which bag I put my phone in. Then I realize how bad this looks. What if they're dead? What if they were brutally murdered? In my mansion? What if the police think I murdered them?
"Hello?" I call to them. "Hey, could you please not be dead?"
A reasonable request.
Suddenly, they begin to move. I jump back, clutching my bags to my chest. This is somehow worse than them not moving.
"Who are you?" I demand. Except it actually comes out as "Whuuuuuhhh?!"
My mastery over words established, I set my luggage on the floor, readying myself for combat and/or yelling for them to leave.
"Shut up," one of them grumbles as he stands. He looks like he could snap me in half if he wants to. Also, he looks like he wants to.
I am no longer ready for combat.
The Scary One steadies himself and strides toward me. No offense, but why couldn't it be the small one with the sweet face? I feel like I could take him if necessary.
Oh, wait a minute....
Before I can complete my thought, The Scary One is standing in front of me. His expression is fierce as he grabs my shoulders and leans toward me.
"You are going to kiss me," he growls.
Excuse me?
I am ten minutes into living on my own for the first time, and I've already had to deal with home invasion and sexual harassment. Luckily, I remembered something before The Scary One made his demand. Luckily, I came prepared.
I mace him.
The scene here is strange. The Scary One is doubled over, clutching his face and screaming "Shit!" repeatedly. The other four guys are standing now, looking horrified and confused. I'm tucking my pepper spray back into my pocket, feeling more than a little proud of myself.
"He deserved it," I say.
No one dares disagree.
Once everything has calmed down, one of the guys (tall and sporting an authoritative air; I have dubbed him "The Leader") tries to explain to me why they are trespassing.
"We did not realize we were trespassing," he says.
Fair enough.
The Leader explains how they needed a place to rest and how they thought the mansion was empty and so forth. I nod along, thinking it to be believable right up until the point where he claims they're incubi.
"I'm sorry," I interrupt, "you're what?"
"Incubi, miss."
I look at him, then at the other four individually.
"Is he okay?" I ask.
"He's fine," says the one with the long fringe who smirks a lot ("The Flirty One" suits him, I think). "And he is telling the truth."
Well, of course the one who sends me winks and flirtatious smiles every chance he has supports the idea that they're incubi. It was probably his idea in the first place. However, The Scary One, The Small One, and The Ginger all agree.
"Right," I say, crossing my arms. "Prove it."
The Leader nods and looks to The Flirty One. "Erik...?"
"If you insist," he says with a smirk.
"Oh, I insist." My voice is dripping with sarcasm, but the invitation seems to be enough for him. Although, I do catch him glance at the coat pocket where I stored my pepper spray. I suppress a smile.
This should be interesting.
The Flirty One—Erik—wastes no time in sauntering over to me and pulling me into a kiss. Now, I can't claim to being seduced often, but this is frankly underwhelming. Erik seems to feel the same way; he breaks the kiss and mutters, "What?" Then he shakes his head and kisses me again, deeper this time. Obviously the concept of someone not melting under his "incubus" touch is foreign to him. I'm sort of starting to feel bad for him.
By now Erik is kissing me desperately, like he's my star-crossed lover attempting to cling to me despite the cruel hands of fate tearing him away instead of some home invader I met twenty minutes ago trying to convince me he's an incubus while his four brothers watch us make out. Okay. I'm uncomfortable now.
I pull away from him, stifling a laugh as I notice his shocked expression. He really can't believe I'm not swooning, can he?
"So," I say, "this seems fake."
It's only then that I wonder whether or not asexuality has anything to do with it. It seems obvious, but if they were truly incubi, they might have some effect on me, right? Right?
Okay, maybe not. But incubi still don't exist, so it hardly matters. Yeah.
"I have never...," Erik mumbles before turning to his brothers. "James, you are not going to be believe this."
The Leader—James?—frowns. In fact, all of them look troubled. Almost more so than when I maced The Scary One.
"I didn't feel anything," Erik says.
I'm kind of offended for a moment, but same. Me too, Erik.
James makes his way over to us. He inspects me, frown deepening by the second. Why do I feel like I'm being studied by a mad scientist?
"I don't understand," James says. "There's not a trace of sexual energy around her at all."
"So I'm not crazy," The Scary One says, suddenly right beside me. "I thought the same thing before she attacked me."
Oh, he's still angry about that.
"Right," I say, "I'm actually asexual. I still don't believe you have incubus powers or whatever, but there you have it."
James scrunches his eyebrows together. "You're what?"
"What does that mean, James?" The Small One asks. At this point, all five of them are studying me with a mix of curiosity and confusion written across their faces.
"I...I'm afraid I don't know."
"Really?" I ask. "It means I don't experience sexual attraction at all."
This has quite the effect on them.
James shakes his head and screeches something about his "research" while The Small One asks him if there are "really humans like that?!" The Scary One looks panicked and accuses me of lying. Erik seems to be on the verge of tears. And in the midst of all the chaos, The Ginger simply nods, remaining as quiet and calm as always.
"This is impossible," James declares. "I have done extensive amounts of research on humans, and it clearly indicates that all humans possess some sort of sexual energy. Do you mean to tell me that I have been given misinformation?!"
"If that's what you thought, then yeah."
Now he looks like he wants to cry.
"So anyway," I say, suddenly exhausted from dealing with them, "I don't mind you staying here for the time being since you have nowhere else to go, but you're going to have to put this incubus thing to rest. I still don't believe you."
"May I say something?"
It's The Ginger. I think this is the first time he has said anything.
"Sure," I say.
"I think if we stay here, you should at least know our names."
"Makes sense."
He smiles. "I see you have already figured out that 'The Leader' is James and 'The Flirty One' is Erik."
Wait, what?
"'The Flirty One'?" Erik asks. We all ignore him.
"The one you call 'The Small One' is Matthew," The Ginger continues, "and the one you call 'The Scary One' is Sam."
"Hey, I'm not the one who attacked—"
"Shut up," I snap at Sam. I turn back to address The Ginger. "If you're so smart, what do I think of you as?"
"'The Ginger'," he replies. "My name is Damien."
Panic churns in my stomach. I feel a bit guilty for snapping at him and Sam, but the most important thing at the moment is how the actual hell he knows all this.
"I apologize for prying that out," Damien says, "but I want you to believe us. We truly are incubi."
"Damien has mind-reading abilities," James explains, his composure returned now that mine is gone. "No human has that." Then his smugness makes way for mild panic. "They don't, do they?"
I shake my head, and he sighs in relief.
"Do you believe us now?" Matthew asks. His hopeful puppy-dog eyes were enough to make me relent.
"Fine," I say. "Maybe you really are inhuman. And you don't seem like bad people—or demons, or whatever—so make yourselves at home."
Truthfully, I just want to get rid of them so I can go upstairs and take a nap. It's been quite the day, and from the looks of this strange band of alleged incubi, it's going to be quite the time having them here.