Something Like Desire

A weak groan indicated the regained consciousness of the blond as he wearily opened his eyes and found himself gazing at the stone ceiling of a warm room, soft light shifting across the curves of the stone. He blinked uncertainly, trying to remember where he was, or at least how he'd gotten to his current location, but the previous night was a rain washed blur. Walter bristled and glanced over at hearing the crisp shift of paper, tensing as he saw an all too familiar brunette sitting at a large desk, one hand holding a quill pen as it scratched into a journal, the other lifted a bit to cradle his head, a half smoked cigarette dangling between his fingers.

“So you're awake now huh? It's been awhile Sullivan...”

“... I suppose so Father... It is 'Father' by now... isn't it?”

Walter looked up softly at the brunette, his green eyes sunken in and hooded wearily. Vincent chuckled softly, turning in his chair to gaze at the bedraggled man, taking a slow drag on his cigarette.

“Yes, I suppose it is now... I forgot how long it has been since our last 'encounter'. But please, call me Vincent... I've never been fond of the 'parental' interpretation of that word for a priest... Though I will admit that most of the fools here run around like bumbling children...”

The blond gave Vincent a weak smile at that, gazing discontentedly at his hands and frowning at the rusty, crimson stains against his pale skin. He rubbed at them absently, trying to work out the traces of blood. The priest watched his vain attempts in mild amusement, the smoke curling from his parted lips as his equally green eyes watched the other.

“....H-how did I get here?”

“You can't remember?”

The blond looked up saucily, murmuring low.

“I wouldn't be asking if I did...”

Vincent couldn't have held back the smirk from curling his lips even if he wanted to. His head tipped to the side, the firelight glinting off his glasses.

“Well I see you've grown a bit more backbone since the last time we met...”

Walter scowled at the memory. When he and the priest had first met, it was long before they'd taken on their true roles in The Order... Before Vincent had taken up the position of the preacher, or Walter had become the vessel in which Valtiel lived on... They're last meeting had been brief, stimulating, and harsh... it wasn't a memory the blond particularly cherished... But none the less, thoughts of how their mouths had fit together for such a heated moment in the shadows of the ancient church, it made his blood heat up despite himself. Vincent seemed to note the blush and chuckled.

“ And I see I'm not the only one who remembers our last little... 'meeting'.”

Not allowing Vincent a response to that, the blond turned to get up and paused at noticing he was lacking any clothing. Swallowing, he peered around the cozy study quickly, a bit relieved to see his clothes resting on the foot of the bed to dry.

“... Did you have to undress me?”

“Would you rather have caught pneumonia? Or maybe it would make you feel better if I said Claudia undressed you perhaps?”

Walter grimaced at that and shook his head.

“No...”

“So... you prefer me undressing you then?”

Vincent tipped his head against his shoulder with a sly little smirk, his eye hooded softly. Walter flipped him off as he reached for his clothes.

“Don't do me any favors priest...”

“It's still raining you know... why not stay awhile, wait it out? You're welcome to rest here.. seek... salvation... from the cruel world outside.”

Walter paused at that, his eyes on the floor before murmuring quietly.

“No more cruel than the one within these walls...”

The priest considered him quietly at these words, the meaning behind them ringing truer for the both of them then most others. He sighed low and put out his cigarette, closing his journal and removing his glasses to clean them, gazing at Walter as he placed them back on the slender bridge of his nose.

“Stay until the storm passes Walter... I'd feel better about it, alright?”

The slightly older man let his hand slip from his clothes to the bedspread once more, turning his head to look back at the other male.

“What's it matter to you?”

Vincent stood, unbuttoning his vest and resting over the back of his leather chair, loosening his under shirt to expose his chest a bit as he cleaned up his desk for the night.

“Not much I suppose... Mainly I guess I want you to stay so I can get some answers to a few nagging questions...”

Walter watched his movements carefully, his breath drawing in a bit more crisply as the brunette came to stand in front of him.

“... What kind of answers?”

The young holy man smiled at the obvious tension in his companion, continuing to unbutton his shirt as he spoke.

“Like... how you're sitting here for one thing. After all Walter... Rumor has it, you're dead...”

The half angel swallowed, his hand subconsciously moving to the pale scar on his neck and caressing it with a shiver.

“This world is full of unexplainable things... Why should I be different?”

“Hn... Touche... But let me assure you Walter...”

Vincent leaned over, pushing the tense blond back slightly on the bed so that he was positioned over him and whispering in his ear.

“... You're as different as they come...”

His teeth bit down against the tender flesh of Walter's neck, right above the scar and delighting in the cut gasp that caught in Walter's throat, the killers head tipping back instinctualy and his hands moving back behind him to brace their current position on the mattress.

“W-why are you d-doing this Vincent?”

“...Because I need it... And you, dear Walter... You need as much contact with others you can get...”

The killer frowned a bit at the stinging truth in this implication, his body shivering at the continued warm trail of the brunette's lips down his neck and collar, his lean muscles jumping under his skin as the priest's hand shifted down his abs to his hip. He couldn't deny that he desired what Vincent was offering... not just the physical aspect of it, but rather the feeling of being wanted by another... of being able to be pleasing and accepted. It was something he's continuously sought for since he was young. Vincent had been his first kiss all those years ago.. his first taste of sin... To see that he was still craved by the other man... It was almost comforting.

Walter allowed his body to slip back into the warm embrace of the bed, welcoming the desires of the man above him as his own need for acceptance and closure drove him forward. His softer voice filled the room as the warm hues of the fire continued to dance across the room, reflecting the fire of the two enraptured men who lost themselves to sin in the sanctuary of the house of god.