[For not the first time, he wonders what on earth he had been expecting when he had answered the phone, or set out another mug of tea. For the demon to keep his hands to himself? Foolish. That time had clearly been an outlier, a one time event.]
[This is the norm between them: Mukuro tantalizingly close, every word dipped in pure temptation, sweet sin with every graze of their skin.]
[Why is it like this? Why is it that even just the brush of his lips against Chikusa's pulse point makes his legs want to give out from beneath him and his cock start to throb from in the confines of his jeans? No one else's touch does this to him, so why does it have to be the demon? And why does it have to be the demon which hits bulls eye on every one of his points?]
[Because it's true- not even his anger could keep his body wanting what it wanted. More than one night had found him biting into his pillow, shallowly rutting against his mattress and imagining another's body pressed against him instead of cool and unsatisfying sheets.]
[Thickly, Chikusa swallows. No. He has to resist. He can't just let the demon waltz right in and do as he pleases once again. His hands, still wrapped around the mug, tremble slightly. Stop this. He has to stop this. So he does the first thing he can think of- ]
[He dumps what's left of his tea over the demon's front.]
[It's with no small sense of satisfaction that Mukuro can sense the priest's iron will wavering, can certainly envision what the priest had done left to his own devices. Because ignorance was bliss and the priest no longer had that bliss. Instead, he knew now of pleasure, even if it was a small amount, and like any hunger that the body had sated, it would crave that satisfaction again and again.
He would have laughed, low and triumphant at how the priest's hands were trembling in a tell tale manner, ready to lay on more temptation thick like honey, when all of a sudden hot tea was being splashed onto him.
It was unexpected enough to make Mukuro jump backwards as if he'd been scalded, even though the liquid was more of a warm temperature. Truthfully, it was better than the holy water, but not by much. His expression was shocked, before his mouth twisted in displeasure, sighing.]
I see old habits die hard. I hope you have a spare change of clothes.
[Because without much fanfare, Mukuro was going to start pulling his wet shirt off of him, padding down the hallway towards one of the bedrooms. He was going to take a shower unless the priest physically stopped him.]
[The demon leaps back, and Chikusa can breathe again. Whatever vice the creature's very presence puts around his lungs vanishes. Thank God. It's no doubt a short reprieve- holy water didn't stop the demon's flirtations, he doubts tea will.]
[Still. He takes what he can get.]
I told you- [There's a faint dusting of pink by his ears as Mukuro starts to strip, but Chikusa ignores it as he goes for the paper towels.] -and door on your right has my shower.
[It also has Chikusa's actualbedroom instead of the art room he's clearly trying to keep Mukuro from, but he's hoping that the demon is too annoyed with his current state to be investigative. Unlike the rest of the apartment, Chikusa's bedroom seems to be the most similar to his previous one. Still quietly colored, still plainly decorated, and even a bit smaller. There's no room for a desk here, although the space by the windows has been put to use. Still the same sort of books as before, although Mukuro might spot a few things on Germany and even a guide to learning the language. The hat collection has grown, too.]
[The bathroom is a bit further inside, in a door straight ahead and to the right upon entering. It's actually quite nice, large and clean with a small glass paned shower set exactly alongside a tub. The hygiene products seem to be mostly the same... Save for a small trio of bottles along the rim of the tub that may or may not have come from a fancy bath place.]
[Listen. He got a nice bath. You use nice things when you can actually relax in a bath instead of showers.]
[It sounded more mockingly sing-songy than annoyed, and Mukuro made his way into the bedroom, peering around curiously. He picked up a few books as if to find the sketchpads the priest was so eager to hide, but once it became apparent they weren't there, he headed into the bathroom, amused at the sight.]
Is all your floor space here?
[Not that he was going to complain, sitting down at the edge of the tub to get a bath drawing, undoing his belt and then gently shucking off his boots.]
Are you going to join me, priest?
[He was going to call out loud enough for Chikusa Kakimoto to hear him, idly holding his hand out to feel the temperature of the water and adjust it accordingly.]
[No answer on the first one, partially because the answer is 'yes' and partially because Chikusa is finishing up the cleaning. He's halfway down the hall when that next question comes, and scarlet blotches liven up his skin again.]
Don't make a mess while you're in there.
[It's his only response as he goes through his drawers before leaving out a simple button up and slacks out on his bed. With his height difference on Mukuro even in that body, it should fit him well enough. Nothing really fashionable but then, he's a priest. What does anyone expect?]
There's a spare change of clothes here. Put them on before you leave the room.
[And with that, he's going to grab one of his German books and hurry back to the living room before Mukuro can drag him into some sort of bath tub sin orgy.]
My dear priest, the whole point of this is to clean up the mess you made.
[Still, he won't press his luck for now since he'd rather come back to drink tea instead of being doused in it, slipping out of the rest of his clothes. He spent a good half hour in the tub, humming old ditties to himself as he used the expensive stuff to get clean ( because if Chikusa Kakimoto had been so willing to defile him, he should also be willing to make sure he was properly cleansed ). He washed out his clothes as best he could, leaving them hanging over the rim of the tub to dry.
Once he was thoroughly finished, he got out and dried himself off. While it was tempting to go out stark naked, wearing the priest's clothing was also an amusing prospect. He put the clothes on with a small, sad sigh, rolling up the pant legs and the sleeves of the shirt, leaving his hair loose to help facilitate it drying.
He headed into the living room, sighing dramatically.]
Is that any way to treat a guest? You should make it up to me by showing me your sketches.
[Never before in his life has he had to experience such a long half hour, that humming seeming to echo out from the bathroom and tease the very edges of his hearing. It keeps distracting him from the words he's trying to focus on and he notices all too soon when it stops.]
[At least it means he's prepared when Mukuro walks back out, a strange feeling twisting in his gut when he actually see the demon wearing his clothes.]
...And a guest should know better than to harass their host. You're quite obsessed with the sketches, aren't you?
It's tangible evidence that you thought of me and missed me during our time apart. Not to mention all your efforts to keep them hidden makes me wonder about their nature, priest.
[He padded over to the couch, sitting an acceptable distance away from the priest, peering at the book he'd been reading curiously.]
[Yet his voice breaks on that last word, fragile as cardboard, and Chikusa knows he doesn't come off as firm as he wants. Forcing his gaze downwards again at the words that don't make any sense now even in English, he wets his lips.]
...No. I still need plenty of time before I'm even passable with the language.
[Mukuro canted his head to the side, smirking knowingly at the priest. He wasn't fooled for a second Chikusa Kakimoto, and even if the sketches were chaste, he had no doubt that the thought behind them were not.
He hummed thoughtfully at that admission, leaning back against the sofa, getting comfortable.]
Should we go together? I would take you if you promised to wear ever hat in your collection while we were there.
[Don't think he hadn't noticed all those new hats, priest.]
....You'd let it go to your head worse than usual.
[Crossing his legs, he shifts away from Mukuro and does an admirable job of not letting it show how really embarrassed he is at admitting even that. It'd be insufferable, how the demon would act, and he doesn't want to deal with that more than he has to already.]
[The offer has him glance back, wary.]
The hats again...
[Quiet so far on going to another country with him.]
You should know just how potent the imagination is, priest. Is it better for me to guess at what you drew instead of showing me? I can be rather creative.
[He let the last bit come out as a suggestive purr, fiddling idly with the overly long sleeves, rolling them up until they were up to his elbows. While it was true Mukuro's ego could always get worse, he wasn't going to give up until he got what he wanted. Even if it meant inviting himself in more often and finding his way into the other room where he assumed the sketchbooks were.
It was somewhat surprising when the priest seemed more willing to go to another country with him than show him his sketchbook, but Mukuro would let that lie for now and allow the idea to take root and grow. He shot the priest a bemused look, expression almost soft.]
The fuzzy hat is still my favorite, but there are some other interesting ones you've collected. Do you wear them often?
[...Oh. Hilariously enough- at least for anyone who wasn't Chikusa- the very idea of what Mukukro might be imagining has him freeze. That hadn't occurred to him before, but it's the kind of thing a demon might do, isn't it? To just sit there, purring in that delectable- deplorable voice of his all the things Chikusa most certainly didn't draw. He'd even have fun with it.]
[Horrifying.]
...Please don't.
[Really. Please.]
[The next subject is still a bit weird to him, like so many of the things Mukuro fixates on, but Chikusa lets himself be led down it in preference to talking about the sketchbook.]
It's still mostly warm... But a few times. When it's been cold enough.
[He's not sure how he feels about the demon being around for the season where wearing warm hats is going to be more and more common.]
Too late. Maybe you should show me what you've done before I imagine worse.
[It was said with a soft laugh, Mukuro tipping his chin up, eyes glittering mischievously. Or perhaps more aptly, sinfully.
Still, talking about Chikusa Kakimoto's growing collection of hats was also relevant to his interest, and he spent a few moments to appreciate the fact that he had managed to gain control of his host body in time for the winter season.]
I see. [You know that imaging thing you were so against priest? Doing it again and most likely with Chikusa Kakimoto not wearing anything but a hat.] At the very least, I'll know what to get you as a present.
I only have your word that you're not already at the worst imaginings you can come up with.
[He's starting to regret that he didn't make himself more tea. In the fact of this conversation, there's not much he can do besides determinedly not make eye contact at the more embarrassing things that come out of Mukuro's mouth. Idly, his fingers tease the pages of his book.]
[Blissfully unaware of the things Mukuro is now thinking, Chikusa shrugs.]
I don't ask for much. Please don't bother yourself with it.
[Please don't both him with it. He's worried about what a demon might get him, even for something as inconspicuous as a hat.]
[With a small chuckle, Mukuro held up his hands as if to defend himself, smile almost guileless.]
Guilty. I can only imagine what you wanted to sketch out. Do you prefer to have your subjects somewhat clothed or fully nude?
[It was asked idly, as if he was asking something as mundane as a favorite color or favorite food.
Though that second comment was enough to make Mukuro shake his head, letting his hands drop back down to his sides. Bored of just sitting on the couch, he got up to wander around the living room to inspect everything more closely, stopping in front of the paintings, letting his hands ghost against the tops of any vertical surface as he walked.]
You wouldn't want a hat from me but a trip to another country is acceptable? What a strange man you are, Chikusa Kakimoto.
[This is exactly what he was talking about, although at least his tone is... normal. In that way, it only makes the situation feel strange and awkward for him instead of humiliatingly embarrassing.]
[...No, it's still a little embarrassing, and Chikusa's posture is decidedly stiff.]
I told you it was chaste. Besides, I've never seen you nude. [...Wait-] Not an invitation.
[Balls.]
[Mouth twitching at his own folly, Chikusa watches the demon roam the room and finally closes the book. Another frown as he puts it to the side.]
I never accepted your proposal, if you'll recall. I know better than to pretend you would behave yourself in such a situation.
[It was probably a good thing that Chikusa Kakimoto was so quick to be clear about his intentions, because Mukuro had already been shooting the priest an amused look over his shoulder.]
Most human bodies are similar. You've never sketched or painted nude models before?
[Once he had inspected the living room to his satisfaction, he wandered back into the kitchen, intending to make more tea for himself since his own cup had long since gone cold and he hadn't had the chance to finish it.
The thought of 'behaving' himself was a ludicrous one, but for Mukuro, he had been 'behaving' so far.]
You never rejected it either, priest. [He combed his fingers through his hair, debating about whether he should put it up now or wait a little longer for it to dry.] And I have been behaving. We're not rutting on your couch, are we?
[If he was talking about earlier, Mukuro had merely been talking. The priest couldn't call that bad behavior.]
I think you overestimate the amount of training I've gotten from other people.
[This isn't a hobby he's ventured after in any professional manner. It had been something started, well... simply because he was awkward and quiet and distant as a child. Drawing had been a distraction and an excuse. As he'd gotten older, he'd simply... never stopped. An easy habit, easy electives in school, something to do with his hands simply to fill the void in his own self.]
[And these days, now, something to try and give a little more purpose to his life. To make him seem a little more like an actual human instead of something pretending to live.]
[The inappropriate comment draws out the usual flush, and he gets to his feet.]
Self-taught? I suppose that's not surprising. Your skill level in other areas exceeded that of your teacher's.
[To keep his hair out of the way, Mukuro tied it back, glancing over when he heard the priest get up, smirking at that tell tale flush. Sometimes it was too easy.]
Hardly. I wasn't the one terribly aroused. [Well, perhaps not as visibly as the priest had been, anyway. He paused, tapping his finger against his lips thoughtfully.] Though that does remind me: I still have yet to collect my payment from last time. When would be a good time for you, priest?
[He turned to face him fully, leaning back against the counter, looking politely interested.]
[So he's not going to pay it any mind besides that simple dismissal.]
[Like all their other times together, he knows that's not going to be end of the demon's lewd words. A distraction of some sort is needed, something to drag his mind out from the gutter for even a temporary second. He drifts towards the hall, something in mind, before the demon's words stop him in his place. Even with his usual control, his expression is twisted slightly into a look of incredulous surprise.]
[Wow rude Chikusa Kakimoto. And then he wondered why Mukuro would resort to just saying lewd things. Apparently they were the only thing that the priest would listen to and react to from him.
That look on the priest's face was enough to make him sigh, shaking his head as he took a seat back at the table, waiting idly for tea. If he continued, he had a feeling he'd be kicked out or get more tea for his trouble so he'd continue to 'behave' for now.]
Nothing priest. Are you going to show me some of your other sketches if I can't see what you've drawn of me?
[Because as far as he's concerned... the demon lost his chance for payment that final dream they had met one another in. After all, those are only dreams. Supernatural dreams, but still dreams- something in his mind and not his body.]
[To continue like this... Something physical, something concrete.... Chikusa isn't sure he could go through with it anyway, no matter how much his body might long for that skilled touch. He can't just disregard his vows so easily for a little bit of physical fleeting pleasure.]
[If he tells himself that enough times, maybe his body will eventually listen.]
[After a second of thin lipped staring, he slowly nods.]
Yes. Hold on, please.
[He's gone for only a couple of minutes before he's padding back with a worn sketchbook in hand. Wordlessly, he hands it over to Mukuro.]
[The surprise- the first page in it is clearly torn from another sketchbook.... and it's of Mukuro himself with his fruit basket of a sleepy hairstyle , slumped and miserable against a hint of a counter. It clearly doesn't fit the rest of the subject matter in the sketchbook, which is Chikusa's various attempts to get animals right. He's still working on it, but there's marked improvement since the dates scribbled in each corner say he's been going steadily throughout the month.]
[...the Mukuro piece is rather recent, judging by its own little stamp of time.]
Unfortunately, Mukuro still considered the debt outstanding, but he would wait in order to cash in. Fleeting physical pleasure was correct. He was in this for the long haul, for better or for worse. He wasn't keen on ruining months of hard work just for a few moments of release.
The tea was done by the time that the priest returned, and Mukuro poured himself a cup, glancing over his shoulder.]
Did you want some too, priest? And can you keep it confined in your cup this time?
[He took the offered sketchbook, expecting to see sketches of wildlife or of the city or more Bible verses, but his eyes widened slightly at the sight of himself at the first page. He settled down at the table, turning it over curiously in his hands before really taking it in. Just the one page implies that there are more, and while he can't say that he enjoyed how upset he looked in the picture it was still... chaste as the priest had said.]
I would have thought if you truly sketched me at all it would be burning in the fires of hell. Can I keep this?
[He held the page up just in case there was any question as to what he was talking about.]
[Still, after the last event, he thinks they should be fine on that front. His thoughts aren't entirely on tea, however. Instead, he's watching the demon's expression carefully, and it's not what he was expecting.]
[...Then again, he's not sure what he was expecting in the first place.]
[Leaving his sketches to be perused, he goes to refill his mug of tea. There's a nervousness burning in the pit of his stomach that he hopes he can drown, so he doesn't want to waste his cup again either. It'd help if he didn't almost drop it at the sound of those words, although thankfully it's still just barely off the counter when the demon speaks.]
...I'm surprised to hear that but... if you really want it, I suppose it's not a problem.
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badliifechoiice22016-01-08 10:36 am
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[This is the norm between them: Mukuro tantalizingly close, every word dipped in pure temptation, sweet sin with every graze of their skin.]
[Why is it like this? Why is it that even just the brush of his lips against Chikusa's pulse point makes his legs want to give out from beneath him and his cock start to throb from in the confines of his jeans? No one else's touch does this to him, so why does it have to be the demon? And why does it have to be the demon which hits bulls eye on every one of his points?]
[Because it's true- not even his anger could keep his body wanting what it wanted. More than one night had found him biting into his pillow, shallowly rutting against his mattress and imagining another's body pressed against him instead of cool and unsatisfying sheets.]
[Thickly, Chikusa swallows. No. He has to resist. He can't just let the demon waltz right in and do as he pleases once again. His hands, still wrapped around the mug, tremble slightly. Stop this. He has to stop this. So he does the first thing he can think of- ]
[He dumps what's left of his tea over the demon's front.]
I told you to stop.
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He would have laughed, low and triumphant at how the priest's hands were trembling in a tell tale manner, ready to lay on more temptation thick like honey, when all of a sudden hot tea was being splashed onto him.
It was unexpected enough to make Mukuro jump backwards as if he'd been scalded, even though the liquid was more of a warm temperature. Truthfully, it was better than the holy water, but not by much. His expression was shocked, before his mouth twisted in displeasure, sighing.]
I see old habits die hard. I hope you have a spare change of clothes.
[Because without much fanfare, Mukuro was going to start pulling his wet shirt off of him, padding down the hallway towards one of the bedrooms. He was going to take a shower unless the priest physically stopped him.]
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[Still. He takes what he can get.]
I told you- [There's a faint dusting of pink by his ears as Mukuro starts to strip, but Chikusa ignores it as he goes for the paper towels.] -and door on your right has my shower.
[It also has Chikusa's actual bedroom instead of the art room he's clearly trying to keep Mukuro from, but he's hoping that the demon is too annoyed with his current state to be investigative. Unlike the rest of the apartment, Chikusa's bedroom seems to be the most similar to his previous one. Still quietly colored, still plainly decorated, and even a bit smaller. There's no room for a desk here, although the space by the windows has been put to use. Still the same sort of books as before, although Mukuro might spot a few things on Germany and even a guide to learning the language. The hat collection has grown, too.]
[The bathroom is a bit further inside, in a door straight ahead and to the right upon entering. It's actually quite nice, large and clean with a small glass paned shower set exactly alongside a tub. The hygiene products seem to be mostly the same... Save for a small trio of bottles along the rim of the tub that may or may not have come from a fancy bath place.]
[Listen. He got a nice bath. You use nice things when you can actually relax in a bath instead of showers.]
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[It sounded more mockingly sing-songy than annoyed, and Mukuro made his way into the bedroom, peering around curiously. He picked up a few books as if to find the sketchpads the priest was so eager to hide, but once it became apparent they weren't there, he headed into the bathroom, amused at the sight.]
Is all your floor space here?
[Not that he was going to complain, sitting down at the edge of the tub to get a bath drawing, undoing his belt and then gently shucking off his boots.]
Are you going to join me, priest?
[He was going to call out loud enough for Chikusa Kakimoto to hear him, idly holding his hand out to feel the temperature of the water and adjust it accordingly.]
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Don't make a mess while you're in there.
[It's his only response as he goes through his drawers before leaving out a simple button up and slacks out on his bed. With his height difference on Mukuro even in that body, it should fit him well enough. Nothing really fashionable but then, he's a priest. What does anyone expect?]
There's a spare change of clothes here. Put them on before you leave the room.
[And with that, he's going to grab one of his German books and hurry back to the living room before Mukuro can drag him into some sort of bath tub sin orgy.]
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[Still, he won't press his luck for now since he'd rather come back to drink tea instead of being doused in it, slipping out of the rest of his clothes. He spent a good half hour in the tub, humming old ditties to himself as he used the expensive stuff to get clean ( because if Chikusa Kakimoto had been so willing to defile him, he should also be willing to make sure he was properly cleansed ). He washed out his clothes as best he could, leaving them hanging over the rim of the tub to dry.
Once he was thoroughly finished, he got out and dried himself off. While it was tempting to go out stark naked, wearing the priest's clothing was also an amusing prospect. He put the clothes on with a small, sad sigh, rolling up the pant legs and the sleeves of the shirt, leaving his hair loose to help facilitate it drying.
He headed into the living room, sighing dramatically.]
Is that any way to treat a guest? You should make it up to me by showing me your sketches.
no subject
[At least it means he's prepared when Mukuro walks back out, a strange feeling twisting in his gut when he actually see the demon wearing his clothes.]
...And a guest should know better than to harass their host. You're quite obsessed with the sketches, aren't you?
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[He padded over to the couch, sitting an acceptable distance away from the priest, peering at the book he'd been reading curiously.]
Are you planning on going soon?
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[Yet his voice breaks on that last word, fragile as cardboard, and Chikusa knows he doesn't come off as firm as he wants. Forcing his gaze downwards again at the words that don't make any sense now even in English, he wets his lips.]
...No. I still need plenty of time before I'm even passable with the language.
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[Mukuro canted his head to the side, smirking knowingly at the priest. He wasn't fooled for a second Chikusa Kakimoto, and even if the sketches were chaste, he had no doubt that the thought behind them were not.
He hummed thoughtfully at that admission, leaning back against the sofa, getting comfortable.]
Should we go together? I would take you if you promised to wear ever hat in your collection while we were there.
[Don't think he hadn't noticed all those new hats, priest.]
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[Crossing his legs, he shifts away from Mukuro and does an admirable job of not letting it show how really embarrassed he is at admitting even that. It'd be insufferable, how the demon would act, and he doesn't want to deal with that more than he has to already.]
[The offer has him glance back, wary.]
The hats again...
[Quiet so far on going to another country with him.]
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[He let the last bit come out as a suggestive purr, fiddling idly with the overly long sleeves, rolling them up until they were up to his elbows. While it was true Mukuro's ego could always get worse, he wasn't going to give up until he got what he wanted. Even if it meant inviting himself in more often and finding his way into the other room where he assumed the sketchbooks were.
It was somewhat surprising when the priest seemed more willing to go to another country with him than show him his sketchbook, but Mukuro would let that lie for now and allow the idea to take root and grow. He shot the priest a bemused look, expression almost soft.]
The fuzzy hat is still my favorite, but there are some other interesting ones you've collected. Do you wear them often?
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[Horrifying.]
...Please don't.
[Really. Please.]
[The next subject is still a bit weird to him, like so many of the things Mukuro fixates on, but Chikusa lets himself be led down it in preference to talking about the sketchbook.]
It's still mostly warm... But a few times. When it's been cold enough.
[He's not sure how he feels about the demon being around for the season where wearing warm hats is going to be more and more common.]
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[It was said with a soft laugh, Mukuro tipping his chin up, eyes glittering mischievously. Or perhaps more aptly, sinfully.
Still, talking about Chikusa Kakimoto's growing collection of hats was also relevant to his interest, and he spent a few moments to appreciate the fact that he had managed to gain control of his host body in time for the winter season.]
I see. [You know that imaging thing you were so against priest? Doing it again and most likely with Chikusa Kakimoto not wearing anything but a hat.] At the very least, I'll know what to get you as a present.
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[He's starting to regret that he didn't make himself more tea. In the fact of this conversation, there's not much he can do besides determinedly not make eye contact at the more embarrassing things that come out of Mukuro's mouth. Idly, his fingers tease the pages of his book.]
[Blissfully unaware of the things Mukuro is now thinking, Chikusa shrugs.]
I don't ask for much. Please don't bother yourself with it.
[Please don't both him with it. He's worried about what a demon might get him, even for something as inconspicuous as a hat.]
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Guilty. I can only imagine what you wanted to sketch out. Do you prefer to have your subjects somewhat clothed or fully nude?
[It was asked idly, as if he was asking something as mundane as a favorite color or favorite food.
Though that second comment was enough to make Mukuro shake his head, letting his hands drop back down to his sides. Bored of just sitting on the couch, he got up to wander around the living room to inspect everything more closely, stopping in front of the paintings, letting his hands ghost against the tops of any vertical surface as he walked.]
You wouldn't want a hat from me but a trip to another country is acceptable? What a strange man you are, Chikusa Kakimoto.
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[...No, it's still a little embarrassing, and Chikusa's posture is decidedly stiff.]
I told you it was chaste. Besides, I've never seen you nude. [...Wait-] Not an invitation.
[Balls.]
[Mouth twitching at his own folly, Chikusa watches the demon roam the room and finally closes the book. Another frown as he puts it to the side.]
I never accepted your proposal, if you'll recall. I know better than to pretend you would behave yourself in such a situation.
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Most human bodies are similar. You've never sketched or painted nude models before?
[Once he had inspected the living room to his satisfaction, he wandered back into the kitchen, intending to make more tea for himself since his own cup had long since gone cold and he hadn't had the chance to finish it.
The thought of 'behaving' himself was a ludicrous one, but for Mukuro, he had been 'behaving' so far.]
You never rejected it either, priest. [He combed his fingers through his hair, debating about whether he should put it up now or wait a little longer for it to dry.] And I have been behaving. We're not rutting on your couch, are we?
[If he was talking about earlier, Mukuro had merely been talking. The priest couldn't call that bad behavior.]
no subject
[This isn't a hobby he's ventured after in any professional manner. It had been something started, well... simply because he was awkward and quiet and distant as a child. Drawing had been a distraction and an excuse. As he'd gotten older, he'd simply... never stopped. An easy habit, easy electives in school, something to do with his hands simply to fill the void in his own self.]
[And these days, now, something to try and give a little more purpose to his life. To make him seem a little more like an actual human instead of something pretending to live.]
[The inappropriate comment draws out the usual flush, and he gets to his feet.]
You came close.
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[To keep his hair out of the way, Mukuro tied it back, glancing over when he heard the priest get up, smirking at that tell tale flush. Sometimes it was too easy.]
Hardly. I wasn't the one terribly aroused. [Well, perhaps not as visibly as the priest had been, anyway. He paused, tapping his finger against his lips thoughtfully.] Though that does remind me: I still have yet to collect my payment from last time. When would be a good time for you, priest?
[He turned to face him fully, leaning back against the counter, looking politely interested.]
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[So he's not going to pay it any mind besides that simple dismissal.]
[Like all their other times together, he knows that's not going to be end of the demon's lewd words. A distraction of some sort is needed, something to drag his mind out from the gutter for even a temporary second. He drifts towards the hall, something in mind, before the demon's words stop him in his place. Even with his usual control, his expression is twisted slightly into a look of incredulous surprise.]
Pardon?
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That look on the priest's face was enough to make him sigh, shaking his head as he took a seat back at the table, waiting idly for tea. If he continued, he had a feeling he'd be kicked out or get more tea for his trouble so he'd continue to 'behave' for now.]
Nothing priest. Are you going to show me some of your other sketches if I can't see what you've drawn of me?
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[Because as far as he's concerned... the demon lost his chance for payment that final dream they had met one another in. After all, those are only dreams. Supernatural dreams, but still dreams- something in his mind and not his body.]
[To continue like this... Something physical, something concrete.... Chikusa isn't sure he could go through with it anyway, no matter how much his body might long for that skilled touch. He can't just disregard his vows so easily for a little bit of physical fleeting pleasure.]
[If he tells himself that enough times, maybe his body will eventually listen.]
[After a second of thin lipped staring, he slowly nods.]
Yes. Hold on, please.
[He's gone for only a couple of minutes before he's padding back with a worn sketchbook in hand. Wordlessly, he hands it over to Mukuro.]
[The surprise- the first page in it is clearly torn from another sketchbook.... and it's of Mukuro himself with his fruit basket of a sleepy hairstyle , slumped and miserable against a hint of a counter. It clearly doesn't fit the rest of the subject matter in the sketchbook, which is Chikusa's various attempts to get animals right. He's still working on it, but there's marked improvement since the dates scribbled in each corner say he's been going steadily throughout the month.]
[...the Mukuro piece is rather recent, judging by its own little stamp of time.]
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Unfortunately, Mukuro still considered the debt outstanding, but he would wait in order to cash in. Fleeting physical pleasure was correct. He was in this for the long haul, for better or for worse. He wasn't keen on ruining months of hard work just for a few moments of release.
The tea was done by the time that the priest returned, and Mukuro poured himself a cup, glancing over his shoulder.]
Did you want some too, priest? And can you keep it confined in your cup this time?
[He took the offered sketchbook, expecting to see sketches of wildlife or of the city or more Bible verses, but his eyes widened slightly at the sight of himself at the first page. He settled down at the table, turning it over curiously in his hands before really taking it in. Just the one page implies that there are more, and while he can't say that he enjoyed how upset he looked in the picture it was still... chaste as the priest had said.]
I would have thought if you truly sketched me at all it would be burning in the fires of hell. Can I keep this?
[He held the page up just in case there was any question as to what he was talking about.]
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[Still, after the last event, he thinks they should be fine on that front. His thoughts aren't entirely on tea, however. Instead, he's watching the demon's expression carefully, and it's not what he was expecting.]
[...Then again, he's not sure what he was expecting in the first place.]
[Leaving his sketches to be perused, he goes to refill his mug of tea. There's a nervousness burning in the pit of his stomach that he hopes he can drown, so he doesn't want to waste his cup again either. It'd help if he didn't almost drop it at the sound of those words, although thankfully it's still just barely off the counter when the demon speaks.]
...I'm surprised to hear that but... if you really want it, I suppose it's not a problem.
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