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Open post.
Open post.
text, action, pic prompts, whatever, do what u want i'm not ur mom
"I don't think you're weak." There's an undertone of vehemence in Alastor's voice that isn't betrayed by how soft he keeps it now, his gaze fixed on Angelo. "I just think you don't understand yet. But you will. When you're ready. I'll be here."
Angelo watches him with his lips quirked up softly, like Alastor's just telling jokes to amuse him, and then he shifts to sit up properly, nudging Alastor away a little so he can lean over and poke around in his nightstand for a cigarette. He finds one in a mostly-empty pack and holds it between his teeth, looking back at Alastor expectantly, because there's no lighter to match. "Have you had one before?" he asks. "A little pet?"
Alastor looks at him steadily, inscrutable for a moment or two, and then blows out a soft gust of air toward the cigarette. The embers catch and the tip glows, like he'd held it to a lighter. Then he stretches out on his side, propping his head up on one arm. "Is that what it sounds like to you? A pet?"
He sighs, letting Angelo hear the disappointment in it, tilting back a little to look up at the ceiling without rolling all the way back. He likes being able to see Angelo, like this. "If I wanted something to sit at my heels and purr, I'd get a better cat than yours."
He panics, just for a second, before he remembers that his mother has been looking after Gabbana while he's been away, and he's due to pick him up tomorrow. He throws a look at Alastor sidelong, partially resentful for reminding him that Gabbana isn't here, and partially because of that backhanded insult. "You didn't answer my question."
Alastor sighs again, this time like he's being massively inconvenienced by this interrogation. He rolls over onto his stomach, folding his arms under his chin. "I've been summoned to service more times than I could ever count. And sometimes I offer it, before being asked. Like I've done with your family. But I've never offered anyone what I'm offering to you. You're different."
"Yeah, that would be a shitty reason," Alastor agrees with a pointed snort.
"Oh, I'm grumpy now just because I haven't caved to your interrogation?"
"And that means I have to cater to your every whim?" He clicks his tongue with disapproval. "That's not the kind of relationship we have, Angel."
Edited 2020-08-27 23:27 (UTC)
"How many times do I have to tell you that you're special," Alastor asks, running his tongue over his lower lip, "before you believe that it's enough to motivate me?"
"Maybe when you're fucking me," Alastor replies. "But that mood of yours wears off."
"But you know you are," Alastor insists, moving now, twisting toward Angelo on the bed so he can slide up against him, draping an arm across his chest. "Forget any offer I've ever made to you for a moment: when I say you're special, you're magnificent, I mean it. There has never been anyone else like you, il mio tesoro. You can shape reality with your mind -- with practice, even I don't know how powerful you could become. And the two of us together... there is no question that we would be unstoppable. That's what you deserve. That's what I want. I want to see you elevated, so everyone else can admire you the way I do."
Angelo might be sick of hearing the same thing, but he still listens to all of that very quietly. The fact of the matter is that nobody talks about him like that except Alastor. The problem is that it's also a fact that nobody, including Alastor, seems to understand that Angelo isn't meant to play second fiddle to anyone, and he knows that's how it'd be if he gave himself to Alastor the way he wants him to. "I practice enough," he says after a long pause.
Alastor raises an eyebrow delicately, trailing his fingertips over Angelo's chest and down his side. "Systematically removing memories from every person you interact with doesn't count as practice. It's just repetition."
Edited 2020-08-28 00:42 (UTC)
"I'm not suggesting it's easy," Alastor soothes him gently. "I know it's not. But do you remember how that felt? The first time you tried something new and actually succeeded?"
"Yeah, I remember how it felt," Angelo says on a sigh, scrubbing a hand over his face, pausing to pinch the bridge of his nose. "You want it to be the two of us together. I don't see why that has to involve me handing myself over to you on a platter."
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