[It seem as though he's going to head straight out again, with the way he turns for the door once more.... but then he pauses, fingers curling along the door frame. He glances over at the demon.]
...I've lived on my own long enough... I know how to manage money.
[He's not dependent on the demon. He doesn't need him, for money, or food, or anything else. Perhaps if he tells himself this, a stern reminder, then it will help some of his other feelings ease up. It's too late, of course, to say he doesn't long for the demon in some way, but... He's not helplessly swooning, right?]
[What a delicate situation he found himself in. On one hand, it would be easy to make the quips he always had, to draw the priest in a way that he knew that would keep their situation light, and thus, easy for the priest to dismiss and not dwell upon. But he would make no real, lasting progress that way. He had insinuated himself in to Chikusa Kakimoto's life, true, but how long would it be until the priest came to his senses? No, this was a cross roads, not the largest he had faced, but an important one nonetheless. If this was anyone else, Mukuro would have taken it as a cry for help, or that the priest was seeking validation. Even though Mukuro was here, he was still alone.
It was tempting, so incredibly tempting, to cross the scant distance between them and show the priest how he wasn't alone anymore. To remind him with his fingers and mouth and tongue that Mukuro was tangible, he was here, and yet- there was also an anger too, and Mukuro was sure his eye was burning red when he tipped his face up to meet the priest's gaze squarely.]
The whole point of this was so you wouldn't be alone anymore.
[He couldn't help but clench the clothes in his hands, scowl overtaking his face.]
I've put up with all the imperfections of this vessel, the disgusting bodily functions, having to be unconscious so often, being stuck in one place at one time, and I have done so for you. So try not to take my offers so lightly.
[Maybe it's the long drive that's wore down his stamina for his sort of thing. Maybe, in the face of arguments he's been trying so hard to avoid, he's lashed out instinctively. Maybe he's jus a smart ass when he's tired. Who knows. Chikusa certainly can't say, not right now, anyway. All he can do is pause at his own words before turning his head away as to not look at Mukuro's face.]
[Of course he knows what the demon has gone through... At least, he's thought about it plenty, perhaps more than Mukuro could guess. It's the same fact which has drawn him back to him against all common sense, against his own statement that he was done. Yet here he is, going against the statement he'd once made to the demon, and at such a level, too. He'd always been able to ignore honeyed words from demons during exorcisms before...]
[But then, no demon had taken such a personal interest in him, either, or gone to these lengths.]
[Oh, now wasn't that a good question, one that cut to the core of the matter. It would be laughably easy to trap Chikusa Kakimoto into a world of Mukuro's own making, to drag him out of his physical body and down into hell, to lock him up in some ivory tower where no one else could look upon him or see him. The greedy and territorial portion of Mukuro would love nothing more, and clothing forgotten, he stalked over to where the priest was studiously avoiding his gaze. Gently, even though he wanted nothing more to slam his hands on either side of the priest's head and trap him so he had no choice but to look at him, he tipped the other man's chin so that their gazes met. Though in this form, he was shorter, his aura was still as large and encompassing as always, second only to his ego and avarice.]
A part of me would delight in that, to have you so wholly dependent on me. To put you somewhere where no one else could see you, touch you, or even breathe the same air as you. Because you are mine Chikusa Kakimoto, and no one else's.
[That last sentence might as well have been tinged with hell fire, his tone a hammered out steel. The priest was getting smart mouthed, becoming complacent. Mukuro had to wonder if he had forgotten who he belonged to.
He let his hand drop to his side, and he took a step, letting out a sigh. Oh, how easy it would be to bewitch and bespell his cute little priest. To make him lose all reason and sense of self. And yet, that was not why Mukuro was here. If he wanted an obedient puppet, he had legions. He wanted Chikusa Kakimoto to choose him of his own free will, for reasons he couldn't define. Boredom, perhaps. To see if he could, for another. But mostly because it seemed so obvious that the priest was his, and he wanted to hear that from the priest's own, stubborn mouth.]
But to do so would defeat why I'm here in the first place.
[Ignore him. The message pounds in his head, in time with the demon's footsteps stalking towards him, in time with the heartbeat nestled firmly in his throat. Ignore him. No matter how much he got angry, he wouldn't budge. He wouldn't even respond. Chikusa tries to tell himself this, even as he can tell from his periphery when Mukuro comes to a stop right in front of him. Desperately on repeat, the words continue even when his chin is taken- and so horribly gently, more gently than anyone else in his life. Biting back a shudder, he can't- doesn't- stop the way his head is guided.]
[Sometimes he wishes the demon didn't look at him this way with eyes deeper than the ocean and about as suffocating. More than 'sometimes', he wishes the words which slip out from his silver tongue couldn't have such an effect on him, but they do. He knows it's wrong- a normal person shouldn't feel electricity shoot down their spine and curl in their stomach at the idea of being owned with nothing else to their name but their connection to another person. That goes double, for a priest to a demon. Yet thinking of being trapped somewhere, seeing Mukuro and only him, relying on him...]
[He can't tell what's worse: wanting that so badly, or thinking that it's barely different from his usual life.]
[When Mukuro finally lets go, Chikusa lets out a breath he didn't know he had lost, and his arms wind a little tighter around himself.]
...Do you ever feel fear?
[Perhaps the murmured question is out of the blue, but it's one he feels is suddenly vital to this conversation. His eyes flick away, looking at anything but the demon, but he doesn't turn his head.]
[My, my, did the priest want to be locked away, with only Mukuro to keep him company? He could feel the priest's want like fingers against the knobs of his spine, taste his shudder like liquid gold on his tongue, heavy and cloying. He wanted everything, wanted to devour the priest whole until there was nothing but bones to break between his teeth. And yet, he withdrew, to give them both distance, heading back to the clothes he had so easily discarded before. The question was met with a small laugh, Mukuro shrugging a shoulder carelessly.]
[Air rushes back into his lungs as the demon steps away, and Chikusa lets his eyes slide shut. Sometimes he forgets how much the demon affects him, when he cares to push and when he himself isn't prepared for it. Opening his eyes again, he glances overly uncertainly to where he's standing, pretending as if everything is normal.]
...If you don't know... then there's no point in talking about it.
[Wavering for only a moment, he steps closer to the door.]
[What is he afraid of? It's a good question, one that has him pause at the door where his fingers rest on the handle. It's something he needs to answer, a decision he knows he'll have to make, but...]
[While it was tempting to pin the priest right where he wanted him, to drag out of him a confession of sorts, Mukuro could be patient at times. Besides, last time they had eaten together it hadn't been all bad, and if the priest had a few moments to clear his head and get his thoughts together, perhaps they could get to the bottom of his doubts and hang ups.]
Shower and food. But don't think you're getting out of talking, Chikusa Kakimoto.
[He gathered up his clothes without delaying the priest further, heading into the shower and turning it up to scalding hot.]
[Freedom, then. Even if it was only freedom from those demanding questions for a little while. Chikusa would take what he could get. So all he did was step out into the cool night air, finally able to breathe. It settled against his skin as he began to walk away from the motel room, grounding him back to earth.]
[For a while, he walked without any particular destination and glanced over the various little buildings he passed by. Most of them, he found, were either the quick fast food places that thrived best with people only coming through for gas, or little family establishments that seemed to serve the usual things. It was a surprise, then, to pass by a small little seafood place that served sushi. Distantly, he thought about his foster parents, the ones who had kept him and given him his name. Perhaps that was why he ducked in, talking quietly with the cashier. It would be a little pricy, but that was fine. He was chasing something, he supposed.]
[It'd been ages since he'd spoken with his foster mother, he reflected as he waited for his food to be bagged up. Even with the changes he'd tried to make in his life, he'd been hesitant to contact her. What could he say? What did he want to say? Somehow, the demon's presence in his life made the issue all the more confusion for him. It was from him that he'd gotten that harsh little truth, and it was him that made it more than clear that Chikusa truly didn't have anyone else.]
[Still. He missed the life he'd once lived, in a way, if only because things had been so much simpler then, and seemingly kinder for it.]
[By the time he came back to the motel, it was with a couple of cans of soda, a box of steamed rice, salmon on a California roll, and yellowtail nigiri. He only paused for a moment before opening the door.]
[For all the inconveniences and annoyances that came with being stuck in a mortal form, Mukuro had to admit there were some pleasantries about it. A hot shower felt like a blessing after being in the car all day, and he stretched languidly, letting his ( borrowed ) muscles relax underneath the water's ministrations. If he had been taking a bath, undoubtedly he would have fallen asleep.
He only roused himself to get out when his skin started to prune, and yawning, he toweled off lazily. He was tempted to slip into the priest's bed as is, but his stomach grumbled to remind him that they had a serious discussion and food to deal with first, so he shrugged on loose sweatpants and a thin t-shirt before flopping down onto bed to flip through the television channels. He settled on the news, lowering the volume before fiddling with his phone to check on his various plans and contacts, head pillowed by his arms. He perked up slightly when he heard the door open, snorting at that.]
If I wasn't? Were you going to punish me?
[Still, he seemed more interested in helping the priest bring in the food, whistling slightly at the priest's choice.]
[So, yes, he'd punish him, but Chikusa knows better than to give Mukuro an in like that. He doesn't fight against the demon helping him bring the food inside, little as it is, and only locks the door behind himself. You never know at a motel, after all, even if he doesn't think the demon would let anything happen.]
Hopefully there's no complaints about the drinks...
[Settling down as well in the chair opposite, Chikusa stares quietly at the food. He still feels a little adrift again, and the closest mooring is the one he knows he shouldn't reach for.]
[Though it didn't sound like he was wondering at all, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, head canted to the side as he used the chopsticks to pick up one of the rolls.]
[There's no point in wasting his energy on an answer they both know, so Chikusa doesn't bother. All he does is stare at the food, and everything it represents. In its own way, it's the answer to the question Mukuro asks right after.]
[If only getting it from his lips was as easy as getting it from that little restaurant.]
...Things I don't know.... maybe. [Finally, he reaches out to pick up a roll himself.] I don't expect you to understand that...
[While in most situations, Mukuro would be loathe to admit he had any familiarity with fear or that there was anything he didn't know, saying such a thing so arrogantly right now would only serve to drive a wedge between them. So, keeping his gaze carefully on his food, he gave a small shrug.]
You'd be surprised. [Then, to get to the heart of the matter, he glanced up at the priest, amused.] Try me.
[...So there's no running away from this. He stays quiet for a moment longer, preoccupying himself with the excuse of food in his mouth, before giving in even as he picks up another piece]
For years... How things have been for me, and how it looks it would turn out, has mostly been the same. That.... might have been repetitive... or... [Lonely.] isolated. But... I had the benefit of knowing that nothing would change much... and that I knew where I would end up.
[Sometimes it strikes him how cute and adorable the priest could be, despite being so feared in the afterlife. Like a little worker ant, with no outside desires, carefully following the path put before him. And yet with Mukuro's interference, he was beginning to see the world more for what it was. To find hope. To dream. To desire.
Disinterested in food now, Mukuro set his portion aside to cross the distance between them, stopping a few centimeters short, their knees so close they could brush together with the slightest breath. 'Most people,' he wanted to say, 'will stay miserable so long as it is something they know, too afraid to risk being happy'. But now wasn't the time for such things, was it? The priest knew his thoughts on the matter. Instead of force feeding them to him, he wanted to know what shape the seed he had planted in the priest would take.]
But now?
[His voice was soft, tender, though his eyes were burning as he looked down at the priest, itching to touch.]
[He can't make eye contact as he makes the quiet admittance, instead focused on food he bought as if he could purchase the past again.]
You've made... even my regular schedule change. I don't even know what will happen to my soul anymore. Maybe it's too late for me, no matter what I'll do... But even if I gave in, what will happen?
[Unable to deal with it anymore, he puts down the chopsticks, and his food by connection.]
[Mukuro had been doing this for so long that he had it down to an art. Souls close to damnation all but gave off a certain scent, like meat close to a roasting fire. The smell of it was enough to make Mukuro's mouth water, and he had always found those souls the most delicious. The ones right on the cusp of damnation, but still clinging with weary fingers to salvation. Pushing them off the edge required a delicate touch, and the priest would be more unwieldy than most. And yet...
Careful not to touch him, Mukuro leaned forward, a small smirk unfurling on his lips.]
[He wouldn't be alone.... No more nights passed in a barren living room as he tried desperately to fill it with things that would make him seem like a real human being instead of a ghost outliving its welcome. No more days where he was surrounded by so many people, yet kept completely detached from them, no bonds keeping him moored. No more would he be left kneeling at the altar, fingers clasped as he desperately tried to find solace in silence.]
[It's so tempting. He feels so weak.]
[Prayer echoes in his head, repetitive and practiced. Chikusa isn't sure if he wishes they were stronger or not. All he knows to do is to keep his head bowed, chopsticks limp inbetween his fingers.]
...I... [The words stick in his throat, barbed and thick, not wanting to leave his mouth.] I don't know that, either.... I don't know what it would be like....
[If he could trust so much at the same time that he would be giving up God.]
[Mukuro felt far too big for the mortal skin he was trapped in, feeling as if heat was escaping from every pore of his borrowed body, and he was surprised when his skin didn't sizzle when he rested a hand against the priest's knee, leaning in. It was tempting and would be easy enough to put the food he was trying to hide behind to the side, to press him down and show him exactly what it would be like to no longer be alone. But the priest already knew by now, didn't he? Pretending otherwise would just be playing at being coy.
Carefully, Mukuro reigned himself in, withdrew his hand and took a step back, and then a few more to put some distance between them. Otherwise it would be difficult to control himself, and it seemed like he didn't need to seduce Chikusa Kakimoto in that aspect.]
I won't ask you to choose now. Consider these missions as a trial run.
[A part of him wants to argue, to say that the demon's flickering visits are still too new, and that they're nothing like what life in Hell might be like. He wants to argue about the difference between dreams and life and condemnation.]
[A very petty part of him wants to point out that the first time they tried to have sex, the demon fell asleep on him.]
[All arguments fade away in his throat as that hand settles on his knee, hot enough to burn straight through, hotter than sin. Chikusa finds himself holding his breath, waiting for something, and the release leaves him slowly as Mukuro pulls back again. A trial run.... is it?]
Then.... afterwards... [He speaks softly, almost more directed at his dinner than the demon.] I'll let you know.
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badliifechoiice22016-01-08 10:36 am
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[It seem as though he's going to head straight out again, with the way he turns for the door once more.... but then he pauses, fingers curling along the door frame. He glances over at the demon.]
...I've lived on my own long enough... I know how to manage money.
[He's not dependent on the demon. He doesn't need him, for money, or food, or anything else. Perhaps if he tells himself this, a stern reminder, then it will help some of his other feelings ease up. It's too late, of course, to say he doesn't long for the demon in some way, but... He's not helplessly swooning, right?]
¯\_(ツ)_/¯
It was tempting, so incredibly tempting, to cross the scant distance between them and show the priest how he wasn't alone anymore. To remind him with his fingers and mouth and tongue that Mukuro was tangible, he was here, and yet- there was also an anger too, and Mukuro was sure his eye was burning red when he tipped his face up to meet the priest's gaze squarely.]
The whole point of this was so you wouldn't be alone anymore.
[He couldn't help but clench the clothes in his hands, scowl overtaking his face.]
I've put up with all the imperfections of this vessel, the disgusting bodily functions, having to be unconscious so often, being stuck in one place at one time, and I have done so for you. So try not to take my offers so lightly.
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[Maybe it's the long drive that's wore down his stamina for his sort of thing. Maybe, in the face of arguments he's been trying so hard to avoid, he's lashed out instinctively. Maybe he's jus a smart ass when he's tired. Who knows. Chikusa certainly can't say, not right now, anyway. All he can do is pause at his own words before turning his head away as to not look at Mukuro's face.]
[Of course he knows what the demon has gone through... At least, he's thought about it plenty, perhaps more than Mukuro could guess. It's the same fact which has drawn him back to him against all common sense, against his own statement that he was done. Yet here he is, going against the statement he'd once made to the demon, and at such a level, too. He'd always been able to ignore honeyed words from demons during exorcisms before...]
[But then, no demon had taken such a personal interest in him, either, or gone to these lengths.]
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A part of me would delight in that, to have you so wholly dependent on me. To put you somewhere where no one else could see you, touch you, or even breathe the same air as you. Because you are mine Chikusa Kakimoto, and no one else's.
[That last sentence might as well have been tinged with hell fire, his tone a hammered out steel. The priest was getting smart mouthed, becoming complacent. Mukuro had to wonder if he had forgotten who he belonged to.
He let his hand drop to his side, and he took a step, letting out a sigh. Oh, how easy it would be to bewitch and bespell his cute little priest. To make him lose all reason and sense of self. And yet, that was not why Mukuro was here. If he wanted an obedient puppet, he had legions. He wanted Chikusa Kakimoto to choose him of his own free will, for reasons he couldn't define. Boredom, perhaps. To see if he could, for another. But mostly because it seemed so obvious that the priest was his, and he wanted to hear that from the priest's own, stubborn mouth.]
But to do so would defeat why I'm here in the first place.
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[Sometimes he wishes the demon didn't look at him this way with eyes deeper than the ocean and about as suffocating. More than 'sometimes', he wishes the words which slip out from his silver tongue couldn't have such an effect on him, but they do. He knows it's wrong- a normal person shouldn't feel electricity shoot down their spine and curl in their stomach at the idea of being owned with nothing else to their name but their connection to another person. That goes double, for a priest to a demon. Yet thinking of being trapped somewhere, seeing Mukuro and only him, relying on him...]
[He can't tell what's worse: wanting that so badly, or thinking that it's barely different from his usual life.]
[When Mukuro finally lets go, Chikusa lets out a breath he didn't know he had lost, and his arms wind a little tighter around himself.]
...Do you ever feel fear?
[Perhaps the murmured question is out of the blue, but it's one he feels is suddenly vital to this conversation. His eyes flick away, looking at anything but the demon, but he doesn't turn his head.]
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Not often. It's been centuries. Why?
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...If you don't know... then there's no point in talking about it.
[Wavering for only a moment, he steps closer to the door.]
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[Languidly, Mukuro took a seat on the bed, sprawling out slightly. He raised an eyebrow, smirk low and simmering on his face.]
What are you so afraid of, my cute little priest?
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...Do you want a shower and food, or talk?
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Shower and food. But don't think you're getting out of talking, Chikusa Kakimoto.
[He gathered up his clothes without delaying the priest further, heading into the shower and turning it up to scalding hot.]
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[For a while, he walked without any particular destination and glanced over the various little buildings he passed by. Most of them, he found, were either the quick fast food places that thrived best with people only coming through for gas, or little family establishments that seemed to serve the usual things. It was a surprise, then, to pass by a small little seafood place that served sushi. Distantly, he thought about his foster parents, the ones who had kept him and given him his name. Perhaps that was why he ducked in, talking quietly with the cashier. It would be a little pricy, but that was fine. He was chasing something, he supposed.]
[It'd been ages since he'd spoken with his foster mother, he reflected as he waited for his food to be bagged up. Even with the changes he'd tried to make in his life, he'd been hesitant to contact her. What could he say? What did he want to say? Somehow, the demon's presence in his life made the issue all the more confusion for him. It was from him that he'd gotten that harsh little truth, and it was him that made it more than clear that Chikusa truly didn't have anyone else.]
[Still. He missed the life he'd once lived, in a way, if only because things had been so much simpler then, and seemingly kinder for it.]
[By the time he came back to the motel, it was with a couple of cans of soda, a box of steamed rice, salmon on a California roll, and yellowtail nigiri. He only paused for a moment before opening the door.]
You better be decent...
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He only roused himself to get out when his skin started to prune, and yawning, he toweled off lazily. He was tempted to slip into the priest's bed as is, but his stomach grumbled to remind him that they had a serious discussion and food to deal with first, so he shrugged on loose sweatpants and a thin t-shirt before flopping down onto bed to flip through the television channels. He settled on the news, lowering the volume before fiddling with his phone to check on his various plans and contacts, head pillowed by his arms. He perked up slightly when he heard the door open, snorting at that.]
If I wasn't? Were you going to punish me?
[Still, he seemed more interested in helping the priest bring in the food, whistling slightly at the priest's choice.]
You spoil me.
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[So, yes, he'd punish him, but Chikusa knows better than to give Mukuro an in like that. He doesn't fight against the demon helping him bring the food inside, little as it is, and only locks the door behind himself. You never know at a motel, after all, even if he doesn't think the demon would let anything happen.]
Hopefully there's no complaints about the drinks...
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Would I do such a thing?
[He put the food down on the meager looking table that the hotel had provided, sitting down in one of the chairs.]
You've been so kind to me. Should I be suspicious?
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[Settling down as well in the chair opposite, Chikusa stares quietly at the food. He still feels a little adrift again, and the closest mooring is the one he knows he shouldn't reach for.]
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[Though it didn't sound like he was wondering at all, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, head canted to the side as he used the chopsticks to pick up one of the rolls.]
What is it you're so afraid of, priest?
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[If only getting it from his lips was as easy as getting it from that little restaurant.]
...Things I don't know.... maybe. [Finally, he reaches out to pick up a roll himself.] I don't expect you to understand that...
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You'd be surprised. [Then, to get to the heart of the matter, he glanced up at the priest, amused.] Try me.
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For years... How things have been for me, and how it looks it would turn out, has mostly been the same. That.... might have been repetitive... or... [Lonely.] isolated. But... I had the benefit of knowing that nothing would change much... and that I knew where I would end up.
[In an afterlife for virtuous people.]
That's... reassuring in its own way.
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Disinterested in food now, Mukuro set his portion aside to cross the distance between them, stopping a few centimeters short, their knees so close they could brush together with the slightest breath. 'Most people,' he wanted to say, 'will stay miserable so long as it is something they know, too afraid to risk being happy'. But now wasn't the time for such things, was it? The priest knew his thoughts on the matter. Instead of force feeding them to him, he wanted to know what shape the seed he had planted in the priest would take.]
But now?
[His voice was soft, tender, though his eyes were burning as he looked down at the priest, itching to touch.]
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I don't know.
[He can't make eye contact as he makes the quiet admittance, instead focused on food he bought as if he could purchase the past again.]
You've made... even my regular schedule change. I don't even know what will happen to my soul anymore. Maybe it's too late for me, no matter what I'll do... But even if I gave in, what will happen?
[Unable to deal with it anymore, he puts down the chopsticks, and his food by connection.]
It's nothing I know....
[...and he's scared.]
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Careful not to touch him, Mukuro leaned forward, a small smirk unfurling on his lips.]
You wouldn't be alone anymore, Chikusa Kakimoto.
[A promise and a curse, all rolled into one.]
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[It's so tempting. He feels so weak.]
[Prayer echoes in his head, repetitive and practiced. Chikusa isn't sure if he wishes they were stronger or not. All he knows to do is to keep his head bowed, chopsticks limp inbetween his fingers.]
...I... [The words stick in his throat, barbed and thick, not wanting to leave his mouth.] I don't know that, either.... I don't know what it would be like....
[If he could trust so much at the same time that he would be giving up God.]
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[Mukuro felt far too big for the mortal skin he was trapped in, feeling as if heat was escaping from every pore of his borrowed body, and he was surprised when his skin didn't sizzle when he rested a hand against the priest's knee, leaning in. It was tempting and would be easy enough to put the food he was trying to hide behind to the side, to press him down and show him exactly what it would be like to no longer be alone. But the priest already knew by now, didn't he? Pretending otherwise would just be playing at being coy.
Carefully, Mukuro reigned himself in, withdrew his hand and took a step back, and then a few more to put some distance between them. Otherwise it would be difficult to control himself, and it seemed like he didn't need to seduce Chikusa Kakimoto in that aspect.]
I won't ask you to choose now. Consider these missions as a trial run.
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[A very petty part of him wants to point out that the first time they tried to have sex, the demon fell asleep on him.]
[All arguments fade away in his throat as that hand settles on his knee, hot enough to burn straight through, hotter than sin. Chikusa finds himself holding his breath, waiting for something, and the release leaves him slowly as Mukuro pulls back again. A trial run.... is it?]
Then.... afterwards... [He speaks softly, almost more directed at his dinner than the demon.] I'll let you know.
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xoxo
k
why do you spurn my love like this, mimi
because this isn't love it's bullying
but i give you so much attention!!
is this a good thing
don't you appreciate the things i make for you
ig but lbr they're for you too
because you do things that haunt me, mimi, and i must purge them from my brain via release
i don't know what you're talking about
mermaid au mimi!!!!!
are you really complaining about mermaid au in mermay james
weh
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