“I don’t suppose the bar’s open yet, is it?”
Victor turned the key in the lock and looked over his shoulder, “Yeah, it can be open. What’s wrong with you?” The old alpha pushed the door open and held it open for the other man.
Jared grinned- blood stained teeth standing out in his beaten face- “Got in an argument with a hunter and he apparently decided truck beats running.” That hurt, the dry laugh that made him acutely aware of cracked ribs that were slowly healing.
The alpha winced and closed the door once they’d moved inside. Looking over the door, the alpha raised an eyebrow, “Skinwalker, that’s just great, no offense to you.” Motioning towards the bar stools, the alpha went behind the bar and grabbed a jar from behind the bottles of booze. Coming back around the bar, he nodded towards the creature. “If you’re healing, I can help you along.” He held up the jar, “It’ll numb the pain and all that flower shit they always tell you.”
“I’d be offended if it was the first time I’ve been told that, but it’s not, so I’m not.” Plus there was the lingering fact the other could easily just kick his ass right back out to deal with the hunter who was still trying to look for him. It was a slow and steady limb towards the bar, taking an empty stool and perching on it until the pain lulled back to a manageable level. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were a saint.” Jared exhaled, nodding thanks for the offer.
My nightmares aren’t about the monsters.
They’re about all the ways people can hurt and rip you apart.
They’re about the damage of ideology.
My nightmares are haunted by humans.
“I suppose I could use a drink.”
“I think there’s a bar around the corner. That sound good?”
“That works for me, if you’d be so kind as to lead the way?”
Even if every reasonable thought in his head told him this was a bad idea- the underlying need that came from being neglected for years overrode reason in favor of the form of affection seemingly freely given. Danger ignored in order to feel some kind of love. Idiotic, yes, even he’d admit to it if it didn’t feel so damn good to be wanted- even if it wasn’t for good reasons. The change in residence didn’t go unnoticed, a glance around was done out of habit, smile twisting onto his features at the hand ghosting along his features, thumb feather light on his skin. Now he certainly was feeling spoiled. “If you’d be so kind as to lead the way, I’d be more than happy too.”
Affection was never something the demon was willing to give. Only when a deal was hanging in the air did he ever engage in any sort of activity with a being that he saw as below him. But Jared was a pet, despite how demeaning the word sounded, Azazel regarded it as a term of endearment. This was the only living creature alive that had earned his favor without being born of heaven or hell. This was not someone he had been trained to endure, this was the one being he had chosen to allow into his life. This was his chosen one.
He stared at the man’s bright eyes for a few more seconds as his hand moved lower to catch onto the other’s own palm, “Follow me.” his lips curled to a smirk, although it didn’t hold the same bite it usually did. Once at the bed he kicked off his shoes before crawling beneath the covers before smiling brightly at the other, patting the empty space next to him.
It felt far too good to be cared for- the attention something he was willing to drown in if it meant feeling loved even in the slightest. This was the first life-line of any kind of emotion in far too long— years spent in Purgatory’s slow torture and even being scorned on Earth before— and the irony that it was a demon offering this affection wasn’t lost on him in the slightest. He’d actually gotten content with his place as ‘pet’. Not exactly a notion he would have been expecting to have liked years ago, but now he relished it. Connotation aside, it meant being cared for, being as close to loved as he could get.
Calloused fingers loosely entwined with the smooth fingers of Azazel’s current host, tired features breaking into a slim smile as he was lead along. Jared did as he was bid, wordlessly kicking ff his own worn boots and crawling in after him, curling and stretching along the other- the motion akin to a dog curling up on it’s master’s lap.
“I’d imagine so, most names do- for the most part at least. And thank you.”
“I know we just met, but you wanna go grab a beer or something?”
“I suppose I could use a drink.”
Victor turned the key in the lock and looked over his shoulder, “Yeah, it can be open. What’s wrong with you?” The old alpha pushed the door open and held it open for the other man.
Jared grinned- blood stained teeth standing out in his beaten face- “Got in an argument with a hunter and he apparently decided truck beats running.” That hurt, the dry laugh that made him acutely aware of cracked ribs that were slowly healing.
