Demons, Witches, and Toads (BoyxBoy) - Chapter 45: Chapter 45

Mulock had decided it was best not to bring up Wheeler's potential lineage until they were back from the capital.
They stood in the small bedroom they shared now. Wheeler was currently folding and packing the few meager items he'd accumulated that year as he prepared to leave for summer break.
Mulock leaned against the wall, crossing his arms. He figured this was about as good a time as any.
"So," the demon said slowly, "when were you going to tell me you were a prince?"
Wheeler nearly dropped the items he was carrying, his eyes going wide. "Wha...how did you know?"
"It's called critical thinking skills. Something I find severely lacking within the group of people (and toad) I currently associate with."
"It wasn't really a secret, I suppose. It's just..." Wheeler looked down at his feet. "Whenever I tell anyone, they just think I'm lying." He laughed but there was no emotion behind it. "I can't really blame them. I mean, look at me. You saw the other princes. I'm nothing like them."
Mulock didn't say anything. Instead he silently moved across the room, only stopping when he finally reached Wheeler.
His young human watched him intently, some unreadable emotion swimming within those deep, sea-green eyes.
Mulock held his gaze, slowly reaching forward to tuck a few wild curls behind his ear. "Anyone who called you a liar is a bloody idiot." Gently he titled Wheeler's chin up with one finger before his hands trailed to his shoulders, straightening them. "You might need some new clothes, better posture, and a proper haircut. But I have no doubts about what I see before me." The demon smiled softly. "I'm looking at a prince."
Wheeler flushed, quickly lowering his head once more. When he spoke again, his voice was quiet, trembling. "I just...I just want to be good enough for him."
"And you will be," the demon stated firmly. "That, I promise. Besides, if it's your upbringing that makes you feel inferior to those pasty blonde princes, don't worry. I'm well versed in royal etiquette. I can teach you." He gave Wheeler a little nudge. "If you can learn to fight a monster, you can learn to pick out a soup spoon just as easily."
"You really think you could teach me?" Wheeler asked, eyes growing wide again in typical Wheeler fashion.
"Obviously. I'm extremely well trained in decorum."
"Wha!? No way! Really?"
"Um, duh." The demon's eyes narrowed. "Why is that such a surprise to you?"
Wheeler sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. "Well...uh...you're usually just so blunt that good manners isn't something I usually err... associate with you."
"Blunt?" Mulock blinked. "Oh, you're referring to the fact that I'm a massive asshole."
"No," Wheeler stammered. "That's not what I--"
"It's okay. It's true." The demon flashed him a wicked grin. "I revel in my ability to make everyone around me miserable. It's the only thing that brings me joy."
"You don't make me miserable," Wheeler said softly.
"Damn. I need to work harder then."
An awkward silence fell between them for a moment.
"So," Wheeler said slowly. "How does one even start learning proper decorum?"
The demon thought for a moment. "Priscilla said her family throws a ball every summer, right? Why don't we start training you on party etiquette?"
Wheeler nodded excitedly. "Okay!"
"Have you ever danced before?"
"Well, Mister Pumpernickel and I once taught ourselves this really awesome jig..."
"Yeah. That's not going to cut it," Mulock said dryly.
"It was actually pretty fun! We could show you, if you want."
"I would literally rather rip my eyes out."
"Oh, okay."
"Alright," Mulock muttered, "now give me your hand."
Wheeler just stood awkwardly, eyes round as saucers.
"I'm teaching you to dance, not threatening to kill you," the demon said with a huff. "Just give me your goddamn hand."
Hesitantly, Wheeler did as he said.
Mulock gently took his hand in his. "Now," he said, "in this scenario, you're you and I'm most likely some poor unfortunate girl you dragged into this. How her standards dropped so low, I have no idea. But she's here, and you're going to dance with her."
"Oh...uh...that's a very in depth scenario."
"Since you're leading, your left hand needs to go over my right," Mulock said, slipping his hand beneath Wheelers'. Nervously, the boy took it. "Next," the demon continued, "I place my hand on your shoulder, like so." As he spoke, he did just that. "You, in return, will place a hand on my left shoulder blade."
"Okay," Wheeler stammered, awkwardly putting his hand there as his cheeks flushed red.
Mulock rolled his eyes. "If you're already this flustered, how the hell are you supposed to do this with a girl?"
"Sorry," the boy stuttered, quickly averting his gaze.
"We'll start you off with the basics of a waltz," Mulock continued. "Imagine you're making a box with your feet. You'll move forward with your left foot first." Wheeler did as he said. "Next, bring your right parallel and then in again so they meet. Good....just like that."
Wheeler continued to do as Mulock instructed, picking up the waltz surprisingly fast.
"You're doing well," Mulock murmured as the rhythm of their dance grew more fluid.
Wheeler flushed even brighter at that. "Mully," he said, his voice quiet as his gaze flickered to his feet.
"Yeah?"
"I know you'd never admit it, but you really are a good person."
The demon faked a gag. "Okay, ew. Why would you even say that?"
"It's just...you've done so much for me," Wheeler stammered.
"That's my job. I'm your demon."
"I know," Wheeler said softly. "But that doesn't change the fact that you've always been there for me no matter what, even with something as simple as teaching me to dance." Wheeler finally looked up, their gazes locking. "Mully, I really meant it when I said you're a treasured friend--"
"Oh for God's sake, there's no need to get all mushy," Mulock interrupted.
Wheeler flashed him a small smile. "Okay, I'll stop. But only on one condition."
Mulock arched brow. "An ultimatum? You're sure getting bold."
"I'll hold back on the mushy friendship stuff if you save me just one dance at Priscilla's party."
"You've got to be kidding."
Wheeler shrugged. "I mean, I guess I could just go on about how you act cold to everyone, but when we're alone you're actually super nice--"
"Uuugh, fine," Mulock snapped, cutting him off. "You win. One dance. But that's it."
Wheeler grinned. "Deal."
"And in the meantime," Mulock murmured, "I'll have my work cut out for me to make sure your etiquette is on par with the Packwoods."
Making sure Wheeler learned proper etiquette went beyond saving the boy from some mild embarrassment. Mulock was never one for believing in prophecies, but even he knew better than to fuck around with something from a Langlet Street mage.
That Yureka woman had said only two fates awaited Wheeler. Mulock had to guarantee the Grand Emperor accepted Wheeler as his protege because...a fate where Wheeler was slaughtered at his father's hands was too horrible for Mulock to even imagine.
He looked to Wheeler who was still smiling brightly, being the usual ray of sunshine he always was.
The demon's grip on the other's hand tightened ever so slightly.
Mulock was willing to do whatever he had to if it meant that future would never come.