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Christ a-fucking-live, Ranjit was never living this one down.
It was supposed to be a relatively simple mission—students being home for the half-term holidays meant they could have pretty much all hands on deck for the latest emergence on the Plagueround for quick fifteen-minute-maximum battle. It was a seemingly small job with these new beasts, but that year's earlier fiasco had made Ranjit and his staff hypervigilant (and no small part excited, because what was the point of having shadow powers if they never got used?).
And the hope for a speedy fight only grew once they found themselves in a thick, wooded area of the Plagueround, and their culprits pounced.
'Desire demons' was their documented name, though most opted to nickname them sirens. It wasn't totally inaccurate, given that they could illusion their opponent into thinking they were a loved one and produce sound waves that muffled any external noise until the demon was the only thing they could focus on. But they didn't seem tied to any particular mythology, instead taking the form of lithe, tree-like humanoid figures that seemed to meld in and out of the Plagueround's forests.
That was another one of their quirks, the fact that nobody could see who they'd shapeshifted into apart from their target. In the midst of the fight, Ranjit could see Matthew fighting a demon that looked nearly identical to every other one, but had undoubtedly taken the form of his husband. And whoever Elliot and Kerry were fighting was hardly his business, but he could still see the toll it took on them, the grit to the sergeant's teeth and the sweat trailing down the satyr's brow.
But then there was the issue of Ranjit's demon.
It was—well.
It was just embarrassing.
And he could have gotten away with it. Nobody could see, and nobody had to know.
Unfortunately, that wasn't his first thought when the demon's face morphed into something much more familiar, and he ended up screaming "ELLI?" at the top of his lungs.
The face only smirked at him. The real Elliot Allan would have balked.
And what a fucking face it was. It was only a few weeks ago when Ranjit had been at the mercy of St. Churnley's parents' evening and he'd been forced to see Elliot again, his hair longer and Persimmon bigger and good fucking LORD he had a neck tattoo now—
But he was being normal about it. So what if stubble suited Elliot Allan's slender face and his hair fell over his eyes in a way that made him look all sultry and handsome? So what if he'd grown into his cheekbones and he still teethed on his lip while reading the same way he had when they'd met for the first time at the gates of St. Churnley's? So what if his glasses had slipped to the bridge of his nose and he'd definitely seen how Ranjit instinctively moved to adjust them for him and he'd looked up through his lashes and laughed like the rat bastard he was, all low and teasing and so, so infuriating?
He was normal about it.
At Ranjit's side, Kerry stumbled through a slash at her demon, just managing to catch herself before she exposed her back and turning to swing with her blade. "Ellie? Who's she?"
Despite the ongoing battle, Matthew seemed all too happy to answer as he swept by, his own demon's neck locked between the hilts of two floating swords and his eyes following in a line like ducklings. "Not she!" he teased, his voice tainted with the sort of knowledge that came from watching the rise and fall of Ranjit and Elliot's disastrous high school sweetheartship. He turned to him with a disbelieving smile. "Ranjit, are you serious?"
Yeah, came the siren's voice, hard and gravelly over its mimicry of Elliot, trying to find his voice. Are you really serious? You haven't gotten over me? So pathetic, Ran.
Ranjit pointed the blade of his scythe at him. "Elliot knew I fucking hated it when he called me 'Ran'!"
Kerry froze for just a split second. "ELLIOT?"
"What?" piped up Elliot—the other Elliot, the good Elliot, looking up from where he was attempting to grab his demon into a headlock. His brief distraction nearly cost him his attack until Kerry jumped in, maneuvering him out of the way and forcing his demon to accidentally leap at hers instead.
"Different Elliot!" Matthew shouted.
"How many fucking Elliots do you know?" Kerry said. "There's this one here, then there's..."
The realisation set in like a brick to the face.
Damn her for being so smart. Ranjit should have never hired her.
As always, the sergeant was an expert at schooling her expression and focusing on her fight, but there was little hiding the way her eyes widened just a fraction and a small, horrified gasp escaped her throat. A siren came swinging at her and she expertly held it at bay with her baton. "No fucking way," she strained.
"Shut up!" Ranjit snapped, definitely sounding like a mature adult and not a petulant teenager as he rounded on his siren. "Matthew, don't say another word."
Matthew made a sound that might have been either affirmation or a laugh.
"Kerry, deal with your own damn siren."
"Yes, sir."
"And you! Elliot!"
"Yeah?"
"NOT YOU, ELLIOT!"
Poor poor Ranjit, the siren cooed, slithering closer. Can't keep his staff in check, can't keep a hold of a hold of anyone he loves...
"Liar," he hissed.
...wouldn't it just be so much easier...
"Stop it."
...if it all went away?
Something rippled through the air.
Suddenly, Ranjit was finding it difficult to hear his friends' voices.
Bastard.
He'd been distracted for far too long. No—he'd let himself be distracted for far too long. Stupid Elliot ruining his life all over again twenty-nine years after he'd done it the first time, how had he allowed a desire demon to nearly get the best of him? All because of a pretty face and a moment of weakness. Good God, his reputation was gonna be tarnished forever.
"Cūpa rahō," Ranjit said, rolling his eyes, and the white noise went silent.
The siren's face fell.
He snorted. "I've been able to do that since Second Year. Elli would have known that."
And he struck.
The fight was lightning-fast, a couple slashes here, a handful of spells there, and then the demon was no more than a pile of branches and dust at his feet. When he looked up, the case was the same for Matthew amd Kerry, who were currently helping finish off the final one with a few swift hits.
There was hardly a scratch on any of them by the time they were walking back to the school, or at least none that they couldn't fix with a plaster or two. Ever since the mimic incident, the entire school, staff and students, had silently agreed to give Nurse Lenny a little more time off whenever they could stand it, keeping first-aid kits in common rooms and hanging up a couple extra posters on what to do during certain medical emergencies. For Ranjit, the only wound he'd sustained was a small graze from where he'd scraped his forearm across the demon's twisted horns, but it was hardly something to write home about.
What was really hurting him now was the way his staff were talking so very, very loudly behind his back.
"Elliot as in Allan?" Kerry whispered, but the noise carried so easily in the empty air. "You can't be serious."
"I assure you, I'm quite serious," Matthew said. "I was roommates with Elliot in third year, and he had Ranjit over like he was part of the furniture. It's how we became friends, really."
"I can see it," Elliot mused. "I mean, the guy's got shadow powers, ha! Of course he'd like the guy with the raven."
"Oh, it was more than like! Heavens, they were quite the power couple of St. Churnley's, especially approaching Sixth Year. You know, one Valentine's Day—"
"Nope," Kerry cut in. "No. Shut up. I don't want to hear about my boss' pubescent years."
"I do!" Elliot whined.
Matthew chuckled. "Well, it was Fourth or Fifth Year, Ranjit and I were in the throes of our emo phases—"
Absolutely fucking not.
Ranjit suddenly stopped walking and whipped around with the sharpness of a trained soldier. Matthew and Elliot's backs straightened. Kerry's was plank stiff as always.
"Are you quite done, Mr. Hinks?" he asked.
Matthew just rocked his head. "Well, I have plenty of stories from our St. Churnley's days. I mean, you were quite the troublemaker! Remember when—"
"Oh my God—"
He scoffed and summoned his scythe back to point the end of the wooden handle at their faces. If they were at all intimated, they didn't show it. "No more asking about my past, okay? No more Elliot Allan this, or Elliot Allan that, especially not in front of the children and especially not in front of his son." (Who, by the way, was the spitting image of his father in a way that made Ranjit's blood freeze when he saw him for the first time.) "My past and my life are my own, as are yours. They are not to be flaunted without my permission. Is that understood?"
"Yes sir," Kerry said immediately.
"Gotcha," Elliot said.
"Of course, my friend," Matthew said, dipping his head. "My apologies."
"Thank you," Ranjit sighed. "Oh, but Matt?"
"Hm?"
"You take the mick one more time and I'll let the entire St. Churnley's staff know that you used to have a crush on—"
"SHUT UP."