[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.
[It was said mildly enough, but the look that Mukuro shot the priest was anything but. Hellfire had nothing on his gaze, but blessedly, he headed back to his own bed to pick up where he had left off. Unfortunately his mortal vessel needed food despite what heart to hearts had been necessary.]
[Weren't those words he was supposed to say, as the one who was threatening to throw his entire life away for a scrap of comfort? Chikusa keeps such thoughts to himself. Instead, with food not tasting much like anything in his mouth, he gives a slight nod.]
[This isn't the first time food has held no appeal to him; he ignores it like all the other times before.]
Since you'll probably just be sleeping the trip away regardless...
One other demon being a problem for you is still one too many.
[It was said in a slightly sulky manner, Mukuro's mood hardly improving once he was finished with his food. Without bothering to change, he clambered underneath the covers, yawning widely.]
Good night, my cute little priest. Try not to stay up too late.
[There's no need to remind him. As the one driving, it's all the more important that he gets plenty o rest. That doesn't make it any easier, granted, especially with how slowly he picks through his food. Every bit is a reminder of the past... and every time he finds himself unable to taste anything, mind distant and lost, it's a reminder that he hardly has anything.]
[Traitorously, anxiously, a part of him wonders if he even still has God.]
[Thoughts like that he keeps locked up tight away in himself when they set out onto the road again, just like he has with so much else in his life. The food in the cooler and bags are all still good, so he shoves food at the demon to keep him distracted, not wanting any more repeats on what had happened the other day. Besides, he's not made of money. He should be a little more conscientious on how much he spends... at least for a while. At least for as long as his mortal vessel is still on earth. Unlike whatever nonsense the demon gets up to that can have him not worry about money, Chikusa isn't so lucky.]
[So he keeps things on a tight budget all until they finally arrive at the town he's first been called to. It's late in the evening when he finalizes the payment for their motel room, and he stays up late on his knees, hands clasped in prayer... and a squirt bottle right besides him for whenever the demon starts bothering him. Or talking to him in general.]
[It's not holy water, but regular water gets the point well enough, Chikusa figures.]
[Throughout most of the morning, after he's bathed and gotten himself presentable, he does more of the same for an hour before taking in a deep breath. All throughout his prayers, he's kept it simple, or perhaps the most he's ever really asked of God. He still doesn't doubt that He exists, considering what he's experiencing right now... But Chikusa needs to know. He needs to know if everything he's been doing with the demon, his longing thoughts, his lustful desires... he needs to know if that's the wrong thing. Because if it is.... he'd rather not be able to perform an exorcism at all, and have his abandonment be finalized instead of him always wondering.]
[With his tools in his bag, Chikusa pauses at the door.]
...Will you be able to keep yourself occupied decently enough?
[How strange time was. Perhaps it was an effect of being trapped in a mortal vessel, but it seemed like the time it took to get them to the town dragged on for an eternity. Mukuro made sure to kept his hands and his more suggestive words to himself, allowing the priest to have the distance he seemed to so desperately need. After all, when he had chosen to turn his back on God, hadn't it taken him a extraordinary amount of time as well? Hadn't he clung to the hope that She would see the error of her ways and bring him back into Her fold?
He could understand that precipice well, and knew that God's influence was vast enough that being heavy handed now might have the opposite effect of what he wanted.
So he let the priest prepare himself for the exorcism, content enough to watch terrible TV while sprawled out on the bed of the motel, raising an eyebrow only when the priest started to prepare himself to leave. He sat up when the priest made it to the door without signaling for him, mouth pulled downwards.]
[The question has him pause, blinking at the demon.]
....No? I've always done these on my own...
[Well, mostly on his own. Sometimes he's had his mentor nearby, in the early days, or a partner for when the Church was incredibly wary of a demon, but, usually not. He's always been capable of doing it on his own.... Perhaps it's because he's had to.]
[And.... Besides- ]
I'm not really sure of your.... bedside manner with exorcisms anyway...
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badliifechoiice22016-01-08 10:36 am
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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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[It was said mildly enough, but the look that Mukuro shot the priest was anything but. Hellfire had nothing on his gaze, but blessedly, he headed back to his own bed to pick up where he had left off. Unfortunately his mortal vessel needed food despite what heart to hearts had been necessary.]
Are we going to have an early morning tomorrow?
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[This isn't the first time food has held no appeal to him; he ignores it like all the other times before.]
Since you'll probably just be sleeping the trip away regardless...
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[It was almost a whine, Mukuro stuffing more food into his face so he could get to bed and continue with said maintenance.]
I have to readjust all over again.
[Listen Mukuro, no one made you go out and slaughter countless demons just because one got a little rough with your boy.]
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[From behind his hair, Chikusa glances over at him. There's none of that imposing pressure, now, only a spoiled man who can't stand a normal life.]
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[It was said in a slightly sulky manner, Mukuro's mood hardly improving once he was finished with his food. Without bothering to change, he clambered underneath the covers, yawning widely.]
Good night, my cute little priest. Try not to stay up too late.
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[Traitorously, anxiously, a part of him wonders if he even still has God.]
[Thoughts like that he keeps locked up tight away in himself when they set out onto the road again, just like he has with so much else in his life. The food in the cooler and bags are all still good, so he shoves food at the demon to keep him distracted, not wanting any more repeats on what had happened the other day. Besides, he's not made of money. He should be a little more conscientious on how much he spends... at least for a while. At least for as long as his mortal vessel is still on earth. Unlike whatever nonsense the demon gets up to that can have him not worry about money, Chikusa isn't so lucky.]
[So he keeps things on a tight budget all until they finally arrive at the town he's first been called to. It's late in the evening when he finalizes the payment for their motel room, and he stays up late on his knees, hands clasped in prayer... and a squirt bottle right besides him for whenever the demon starts bothering him. Or talking to him in general.]
[It's not holy water, but regular water gets the point well enough, Chikusa figures.]
[Throughout most of the morning, after he's bathed and gotten himself presentable, he does more of the same for an hour before taking in a deep breath. All throughout his prayers, he's kept it simple, or perhaps the most he's ever really asked of God. He still doesn't doubt that He exists, considering what he's experiencing right now... But Chikusa needs to know. He needs to know if everything he's been doing with the demon, his longing thoughts, his lustful desires... he needs to know if that's the wrong thing. Because if it is.... he'd rather not be able to perform an exorcism at all, and have his abandonment be finalized instead of him always wondering.]
[With his tools in his bag, Chikusa pauses at the door.]
...Will you be able to keep yourself occupied decently enough?
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He could understand that precipice well, and knew that God's influence was vast enough that being heavy handed now might have the opposite effect of what he wanted.
So he let the priest prepare himself for the exorcism, content enough to watch terrible TV while sprawled out on the bed of the motel, raising an eyebrow only when the priest started to prepare himself to leave. He sat up when the priest made it to the door without signaling for him, mouth pulled downwards.]
I'm not going with you?
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....No? I've always done these on my own...
[Well, mostly on his own. Sometimes he's had his mentor nearby, in the early days, or a partner for when the Church was incredibly wary of a demon, but, usually not. He's always been capable of doing it on his own.... Perhaps it's because he's had to.]
[And.... Besides- ]
I'm not really sure of your.... bedside manner with exorcisms anyway...
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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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