Vision bleary, Ira blinked sleepily at the grey ceiling, slowly beginning to frown as his mind rebooted.
There was a strange taste in his mouth, a dryness to his lips that he didn’t like, and when his gaze finally focused, he scowled. Lifting a hand, he rested it on the heavy weight crushing his chest. He grabbed Angelo’s hair, and rather than pulling it like he intended, somehow his hand activated a mind of its own and began to softly massage it.
What an insidious betrayal.
He scowled harsher, but his hand stayed loose and gentle, and he felt the soft hair-strands between his fingers, pulled on them and weaved them around his hand, getting hopelessly entangled. Angelo’s hair wasn’t even that long, but when it wasn’t slicked back, it must fall over his ears, at least.
Angelo’s head was resting over Ira’s heart, Ira realized. He blinked again at the ceiling, eyes spinning around the room. The sunlight was pouring in through the large windows, the curtains silent and still as stone. There was a dresser at the bottom of the bed, and a wide mirror sitting over it. Ira stared at it, but the bed was too low and he couldn’t see them.
“Angelo…” Ira muttered, mumbling something else that even he couldn’t decipher. His hand smoothed over Angelo’s forehead, down the line to his nose, and he pinched that nose shut.
After a moment, Angelo’s mouth popped open and he breathed deeply. Ira’s eyes narrowed, and he clicked his tongue. Starting the arduous process of pushing himself up, he then plopped back down when Angelo’s grip tightened. The man was like an octopus, Ira thought. Completely immovable.
Well, not that he’d tried very hard. But still. Very difficult to escape.
Totally.
Ira closed his eyes, hugging Angelo to his chest and letting his breathing ease. He sank closer to sleeping again, allowing his limbs to grow heavier and his muscles to relax. Breathing slow and deep, he delved into his mind and checked in on his stupid Host.
She was hiding on a rooftop, huddling close to a chimney. Her coat was pulled tight to her as she mumbled something to herself—he didn’t know what, Ira felt no need to turn on the audio. It was enough that he was forced to just see her, but actually listening to her speak? That was going a step too far.
Still, out of some sense of duty, he zoomed in.
Ira’s eyes swept around the roof, and the heavy soot covering it. The chimney wasn’t on now, thankfully. His Host would likely choke if that was the case, but she did seem to have an actual brain somewhere in there. A shame. That made her more cautious than ninety percent of his Hosts, and gave her an actual chance to succeed.
Ira did not want his Hosts to succeed. It was funnier when they didn’t.
We’re sorry for MTLers or people who like using reading mode, but our translations keep getting stolen by aggregators so we’re going to bring back the copy protection. If you need to MTL please retype the gibberish parts.
And also, it was his job to make them fail.
(Dea tf wbrais vlv la obg atf jwerfwfca.)
Jbeutlcu rboais ab tlwrfio, tf ofia Ccufib rtloa bc abq bo tlw, vgjklcu mibrfg ralii jcv wewyilcu rbwfatlcu ecvfg tlr ygfjat. Pgj ifoa la jibcf, atgfk tlr wlcv jkjs. Pa kjrc’a ilxf Ccufib kjr ublcu ab tega tlw, jcskjs.
On the roof, his Host started moving. She crept toward the edge, looking down at the ground. Clicking her tongue, she investigated the emergency stairwell at the outside of the building. There wasn’t a direct way to get onto it from the roof (which begged the question, how did she get up there in the first place), so she would have to measure her jump correctly or she’d go splat on the cobblestone street.
Pgj tfiv tlr ygfjat jr rtf milwyfv bnfg atf fvuf, aegclcu jgbecv jcv uglqqlcu atf gbbo fvuf. Vtf atfc ribkis fjrfv tfgrfio vbkc ecali rtf kjr wfgfis tjculcu bcab atf gbbo klat tfg olcufgalqr. Vdeffhlcu vbkc bc jevlyif ygfjat, rtf ifa ub.
With a loud rattle, she landed on the metal stairs. She slipped, her feet skidding under her, and plopped onto her ass with a loud curse. The window the stairwell sat next was abruptly lit up as someone turned on a lamp, and her eyes widening, she pushed herself up and started to run down. The stairs shook beneath her, not used to such vigorous exercise.
She held onto the rail with a death-grip.
Ira sighed.
Opening his physical eyes, he zoomed out and lost track of his Host. He instead turned his attention back to Angelo, his fiancé. They were getting married, Ira had already decided. This time, he would hurry the man up so the mission wouldn’t be finished before they had time to make it official. It was just unfair, how many times that that had happened.
“Up,” Ira muttered, pushing on Angelo’s shoulders. The man shook, but didn’t move. Didn’t even open his eyes, even though Ira had felt the change in pulse and knew fell well that Angelo was awake. Ira scowled, and he rose a leg in the air. It then fell heavily onto Angelo’s backside, shaking the bed. “Up,” Ira repeated. He gripped the arms around him and pulled them apart as far as his inferior human body could, then added viciously, “I will pee on you.”
“Sorry, sorry,” Angelo said, rolling off him. The man sat up and pushed his hair out of his face, glancing at Ira with guilty eyes. “I just wanted to hug you a little longer.”
Ira rolled his eyes. “We’ll hug more once I’m done taking care of this stupid human body,” he promised, standing up and stretching. His arms rose high above him, and he exhaled softly once he heard the telltale cracking. Such a lovely sound, that.
“Wait for me,” mumbled Ira, heading for the adjoining bathroom.
He didn’t hear Angelo’s response.
Two hours later, they sat face-to-face around a square table in a tiny kitchen. Nevertheless, the area was sparkling clean, not a single surface dusty. Ira ate his breakfast carefully, packing it away piece by piece in his growling stomach. The taste lingered on his tongue, and he adored it. Adored everything, really.
“Thank you,” Ira said, staring forlornly at the empty plate. Picking up his cup, he sipped at the mellow water and swallowed it sadly. Pouting, he then looked at Angelo. Angelo’s dark gaze was markedly intense and focused, stuck on Ira’s face with a force that should probably scare him. As it was, he only felt warmer inside. Ira increase the power of his pout and asked, “More?”
“I… didn’t know you were coming, yesterday,” Angelo’s shoulder slumped and he grimaced, looking away. “I don’t have anything else.”
“Oh,” Ira slumped, as well. “Call a minion, then?” Ira regained his spirit, staring with sparkling eyes at his fiancé.
Angelo’s lips moved, and his smile was soft and furiously tender. He shook his head, “I don’t…” Angelo stopped, ducking his head. He sighed, then, and Ira’s eyebrow furrowed. Confusion curled through him, and he rose from his chair. Crossing around the table, he put his hand on Angelo’s head and patted it.
“There, there,” Ira said, in mockery of something he’d seen humans do plenty of times. He didn’t know why, but Angelo’s face was just strange and Ira wanted that expression gone. It didn’t belong on him, Ira knew.
“Ira, I don’t—” Angelo’s second attempt didn’t go any better, and Ira’s frown only grew. Angelo pressed into Ira’s hand, his own hand landing on Ira’s waist and gripping tightly, drawing him closer. Ira let himself be led, allowed himself to curl around Angelo and hug him again. “I’ve missed you,” Angelo muttered into Ira’s stomach, the vibrations making Ira shiver.
Ira’s hand patted Angelo’s head again. “I’ve missed you, too,” he said. His gaze sat on Angelo’s dark hair, and he bit his lips.
“I don’t have any money, Ira,” Angelo finally confessed.
Ira’s eyes narrowed, and then he said, “You gave me a bunch, yesterday.”
“That was the only money I had.”
“Oh,” Ira pushed his hands into Angelo’s hair and pulled his head back so that he could look at Angelo’s eyes. They refused to meet his gaze, Angelo mulishly staring at Ira’s stomach.
Ira laughed, pinching Angelo’s cheek. “I’ll go rob a bank,” Ira said, already starting to plan. It would have to be a big bank, because that would just be more fun. Unfortunately, he’d also have to get a good disguise, maybe commandeer some of Angelo’s minions, to keep his identity a secret. He’d like to stay with Angelo for as long as he could, and it would be a pain to track him down again after he switched bodies.
“You don’t… mind?” Angelo finally met Ira’s gaze, and Ira was struck in the chest by those eyes. They were too hesitant, Ira thought. They never used to be like that.
Ira shook his head. “I like robbing banks, Angelo.” Smiling, he pinched Angelo’s cheek again, pulling the flesh out and grinning at the sour look he received in response. Ira continued, “I like causing chaos and making messes and making humans miserable. I like fucking them over and stealing from them. Robbing banks are fun.”
Angelo was silent. Then, in a weak voice, he said, “No, I meant… you don’t mind that I can’t… provide for you?”
Ira smushed Angelo’s cheeks together. “Hush,” Ira said. He glared at Angelo when the man tried to speak, silencing him effortlessly. “I am not with you because you have money, Angelo. I am not even with you because you take care of me.” Here, Ira paused. He sighed, shoulders slumping, and leaned down to place his forehead against Angelo’s. Eyes half-lidded, Ira said, “I am with you because I am happy. Here, with you, I am happy.”
Which he still didn’t know if he liked, this strange feeling coursing through him. It was so fucking unfair, Ira thought, for a fucking human to make him happy.
Ira had gone so, so long only thinking of humans as shitty ants he needed to crush, and now one made him happy? Made Ira happy?
It was a fucking joke.
(Which, sadly, did not make it less true.)
Ira licked his lips, shaking Angelo’s head a little. “I can take care of myself,” he said, leaning back so that he could stare properly into Angelo’s eyes, imparting the truth of his words. “I am a fucking badass, nonhuman shit-head that can kill anything standing in my way. I don’t need you, Angelo. I just want you.”
Angelo’s lips wobbled, for some reason. The man sniffled, and his eyes were watering to a strange degree. Ira’s eyes narrowed, and his hands smushed Angelo’s face again. “Stop that. I am right here with you.”
“Right,” Angelo’s voice was wet and his smile was still wobbly, but he didn’t seem to be on the edge of crying anymore so Ira would take the win.
Ira smushed Angelo’s face one last time, just for fun, and then stepped back. Angelo’s hands fell from him slowly, lingering a little on his shirt, and he let him be. Angelo was apparently having some weird thoughts, and Ira was not heartless, okay. He, too, could be kind and gentle and considerate, and take other people’s feelings into consideration. He could.
Okay, yeah, no, he kind of couldn’t, but he made a valiant attempt and that was what counted, really.
Ira patted Angelo’s head one last time and then slumped back into his chair. “I need some time to plan, but you’ll loan me some goons for the robbery, right?” Ira asked, so that there would be no miscommunication.
“Of course,” Angelo answered. He smiled at Ira, bright and beautiful, and Ira’s heart constricted sharply in his chest. Ira picked up his glass so he wouldn’t have to look at Angelo, only to frown at its emptiness.
A/N: yeah, it’s been a while, huh… anyway, the 50 patron goal to unlock Silas’s true backstory is still going on patreon, so check that out. we’re inching closer XD
Continued! Hurray! The chapter is amazing, thanks to the author!
😊😊
There’s a chapter ! A CHAPTEEEEER !!!
Hurray !!!
Thanks for the chapter~
Woooohooo! We got a chapter boys! (>.<)/
Thanks Hoodwinked!