"Pits were normal. Efficient. I remember asking the grave digger why and he told me it was always smart to minimise cost and maximise production in any way possible. I liked that guy. I met him in hell, he was one hell of a demon." Of course, he obliterated him for even so much as knowing him before he was king but he had to admit, he owed the guy a lot. He lived by those words, especially in hell. "I think if we all had good families, we wouldn't be where we are right now."
People with good families and normal lives were in a graveyard, digging up corpses and cutting into them. "People always check coffins, you have to be creative. I put it in the stomach."
"Course you did, you old charmer." That, through gritted teeth, was the last thing Bobby said for a while. During the unpleasant task he was too focused on not breathing in more than necessary to keep the small talk going.
Finally he climbed back out of the grave, tablet in his pocket and coffin closed again. He started putting the dirt back in, still not sure what to say. Tonight had turned intense in ways he hadn't anticipated. Much more emotional than he'd have expected. "You're keeping your deal. Always heard you do that."
"I don't go back on my deals. Except when handsome men won't let me keep their soul on loan for a few while I work out what I'm doing." He had intended to give Bobby his soul back. Eventually. When he was done playing with it. He kept it safe, it was returned it excellent condition, better than when he got it. He just needed some insurance without any sure footing and... he liked him. "You thanked me. I liked it."
He had never been thanked so earnestly. It was such a weird thing. Such a small slither of affection but it was the only he had ... likely ever had. "No one has ever given me gratitude. Fair enough, I don't earn it. Even so, it was nice. I wasn't... ready. To give you up."
He huffed a small laugh and raised his hand, rubbing at his face. Shit, why was he tired? Since when did he get so tired? "You can't bottle a feeling, I suppose. You can bottle a soul."
Bobby looked at Aleister and tried to understand it from his point of view. Couldn't measure a demon by human standards. Hell, given what an asshole this one had been while human, really had to find all new standards. "You gave me my legs back. You didn't have to do that. Wasn't expectin' that. I meant it. When I thanked you."
He wasn't about to take it back now either. "Can't bottle a feelin'. Maybe I don't blame you for wantin' to hold on a bit." He held his hand out now, so he could help Aleister off the bench. "Come on, let's get back. I've got a tablet to complete and you can watch a movie or somethin'."
"No, I think I'm good." He wanted to sit in his dark room and just think. He found it was better for when the blood fit, gave him time to truly appreciate things. To think about things. He sighed and closed his eyes. "I'm knackered, mate. I need some alone time."
He had already cried, gotten high and admitted embarrassing bullshit in front of Bobby. He kind of felt like he'd hit his quota of embarrassment for the day.
He took Bobby's hand and pulled himself up. "Off we pop, then."
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People with good families and normal lives were in a graveyard, digging up corpses and cutting into them. "People always check coffins, you have to be creative. I put it in the stomach."
no subject
Finally he climbed back out of the grave, tablet in his pocket and coffin closed again. He started putting the dirt back in, still not sure what to say. Tonight had turned intense in ways he hadn't anticipated. Much more emotional than he'd have expected. "You're keeping your deal. Always heard you do that."
Only he had gotten screwed last time.
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He had never been thanked so earnestly. It was such a weird thing. Such a small slither of affection but it was the only he had ... likely ever had. "No one has ever given me gratitude. Fair enough, I don't earn it. Even so, it was nice. I wasn't... ready. To give you up."
He huffed a small laugh and raised his hand, rubbing at his face. Shit, why was he tired? Since when did he get so tired? "You can't bottle a feeling, I suppose. You can bottle a soul."
no subject
He wasn't about to take it back now either. "Can't bottle a feelin'. Maybe I don't blame you for wantin' to hold on a bit." He held his hand out now, so he could help Aleister off the bench. "Come on, let's get back. I've got a tablet to complete and you can watch a movie or somethin'."
no subject
He had already cried, gotten high and admitted embarrassing bullshit in front of Bobby. He kind of felt like he'd hit his quota of embarrassment for the day.
He took Bobby's hand and pulled himself up. "Off we pop, then."