Eternal Rot

Dinner Party

Alastor’s trip to his mother’s house was calming, uneventful like it was meant to be. Though a certain devil had followed not so far behind to make sure he would not be ambushed again on the way. He seemed to be trying to hide himself in the trees, but as Al had become acutely aware of the king; his tactics were quickly to be considered rather tactless. 

The mortal smiled though, finding the care taken to be entertaining at best. He wondered if he would always have a guardian angel now that he was sleeping with the devil. Again his fingers tapped against each other, as he wished to write it down. He then reached up to clean his useless glasses, having replaced the lenses with clear ones as his eyes still worked perfectly since his first encounter with the king. He would have to wait to write, as he could never bring any of his work into his mother’s home, just as he could never tell her that his eyes were miraculously healed.

Momentarily he had stopped and stood where he had previously been attacked, eyes scanning the location to see if the devil had left any evidence. Nothing remained, like the attack had been washed from the face of the Earth. He briefly wondered if it had even occurred, although his still healing stomach was an obvious answer to the question, the sting of which made drool pool onto his tongue. Then he stopped reminiscing, and instead began for his childhood house once more.

When he finally arrived, he spared a glance out to the trees, noting how the movement he had sensed had ceased, like the devil had tucked himself into a perch. He would likely wait for the dinner to end, and perhaps act like he had just so happened to have found Alastor when he started home again. Maybe they would walk together, and maybe they would hold hands. The cheesiness made the human laugh to himself, his body moving into the unlocked front door and into the savory smell of his mother’s home, “Ma, I’m home!”

“Ah!” The woman stopped chopping onions, her smile wide as she faced her son, aging eyes glimmering with delight, “Bonjour mon bébé, comment vas-tu?”

“I’m good mama,” The man replied happily, though his eyes quickly caught onto a suit jacket hanging on one of the chairs, the familiar embroidery of it making his stomach turn, “Do you have company?”

“Aye, yes!” The woman hummed, “He’s fresh’n up. You were right about how handsome he is, mon amour! Such a charmer!”

Al’s mouth became unbelievably dry. Vincent was here, in his childhood home, with his mother, his hands became increasingly sweaty, and feverishly he rubbed them against his pants in order to hide the fact, “How did he…”

“Alastor!” Vince walked in with casual ease, hands on his hips as his eyes gleamed, “I decided that our dinner date couldn’t wait, and your gracious mother agreed!”

Like a dying fish, Al opened his mouth and closed it a few times, then finally his mind caught up to the situation, and he managed to string a sentence together, “Impanience can make you look like a total bird.”

“Well, as I like to chirp, I suppose that’s quite alright.” Vince’s eyebrows quirked as he took a hold of Al’s shoulders, leading him towards the table as though he owned the place. 

The man had him sit in the chair next to the one that held his jacket, and without hesitation, he filled that one with a pleased grin, making sure that his leg touched Alastor’s despite how uncomfortable the contact made the mortal. When his mother wasn’t looking, Al turned to the man, tugging his tie forward so that he could talk sternly with him, his voice a whisper as he had, a small warning not to be careless in front of his only family. Vince smirked widely, enjoying the proximity despite how tense the air between them had been, “I promise not to out you. I’ve been doing this kinda thing for a while. Although,” The man bit his lip, looking Al up and down, “If you keep pulling me close, you cannot blame me for wanting to take this further.”