Oh, he knew the Creator. Finicky guy. Others? Not a clue. But whoever would help the poor Sinners that decided to make this place their little playground and oppress others, abuse their free will...?
Lucifer brought a hand to mask and leaned for a theatrical whisper, perhaps a purr: "...And who tasted the best...?"
"With ease, it was the iguana fellow. He had teeth and horns and frills to spare, but there was such succulent meat once the hide was peeled away... I told him it reminded me of eating gator, back in Louisiana, and I had such a nostalgic little chat about how to best prepare gator."
He chuckles darkly.
"I don't imagine he was paying terribly much attention - he could only form the words to curse my name."
Still-- Alastor paused in their walk, tapping at Lucifer's chest with his mic. "Now what's got you so terribly curious, pal? Hadn't you once said that Sinners are loathesome, violent psychopaths when trying to dissuade dear Charlie?"
He did suddenly wonder what gator was like... was it a universal 'tastes like chicken', or was it like catfish in that it had its own unique category...? Ah, but that's neither here nor there.
The tap had him smirk. "I did! And there are plenty of the lowest of the low living down here in Hell."
He shrugged. "...Yet Charlie sees something in everyone. She sees that second chance for those who want to reach out, and I believe in her and her spirit. While it would be naive to think nobody would ever take advantage of her generosity and kindness, perhaps even use the Hotel for their own means, it certainly never hurts to... ask. Be curious. Get their story."
Lucifer looked up, nudged with an elbow. "...Even yours, even if you don't feel much like checking in, yourself. Why, you've gone above and beyond for my daughter, and for that, I have to... thank you. Sincerely."
Lucifer had brought it up a few times - it'd been something that'd made the king so nervous before, frantically worried about being replaced as a 'father'. But that's changed, hasn't it?
It was an interesting feeling, to be appreciated - at least by someone besides Charlie. Even Charlie was careful not to let herself get too vulnerable around Alastor. He hadn't felt like that quite since he was a living man, and no one knew his misdeeds - yet here Lucifer was, sincere in saying it even after a lengthy conversation about relishing in violence and cannibalism.
"You've given me quite a treat - seeing that the King of Hell isn't just some energetic polka dancer, but is also a fearsome predator lying in wait."
He chuckled. "You'd certainly know what musical ambiance can bring to a deadly situation, but you really should hear how an accordion can add some ominous undertones to a tune sometime!"
But Lucifer had gone quiet. A treat, huh...?
"...Say..."
Oh boy, how should he go about this?
"I don't entirely have any exchange in mind just yet, but perhaps what you've accomplished so far has rather earned something, would it not?"
Lucifer Morningstar, let's not beat around the damned bush. But talk had been planting a seed in his brain that had begun rapidly growing into a curiosity!
"You've had Exorcist, yes, but surely... seraphim... must be better?"
...He was serious. Alastor's mind flashed back to that night they'd had dinner together, the king's face at being teased for being possibly delicious.
And yet here he was, offering it as a treat.
"Really now! You'd offer me your body for a reward? Even in part? Fascinating," he mused, pinching Lucifer's arm like he was gauging the meat on the bone. "And quite funny - I would indulge but alas, I think Charlie would be quite cross with me if her father came home from Cannibal Town missing any appendages," he bemused, 'affectionately' patting Lucifer's head.
Pinch all you want, Giraffe. This is Grade-A prime (fallen) seraphim! But he had to think about 'offering his body as a reward'... just not too long, or he may need to head home for a little break and soak his head.
But the King grinned. "Now, now...! I like my appendages, thank you very much, and you would be right. Charlie has enough to worry about. How-e-ver..."
With a flourish of a wrist, a roll of his fingers, his haul had drawn back a sleeve to reveal a smoky wrist, its odd gradient before its gradual fade to marble white.
"What's a little blood between friends, eh? Color me curious on if mine's different from the likes of these blood-thirsty harpies that pestered my realm like a cloud of gnats each year, led by that bloated windbag! I mean, it must, right?"
"Surely so," Alastor hummed in agreement, though he seemed distracted - he took Lucifer's wrist in his own hand and held it firm, but without squeezing. Alastor pressed a thumb against the inside, rubbing gently to find the veins, feel the thump of life coursing through the fallen seraphim.
What a strange, morbid little thing for Lucifer to offer him. And in thanks. But a gift is a gift... he shouldn't peer too much at the horse's mouth, right?
Bending at the waist, Alastor almost looked as though he was bowing to kiss the royal hand. But his teeth sharply cut into flesh instead, puncturing and not slashing, careful not to give Lucifer a grievous wound. And from there... he wrapped his lips around the bleeding gold, dribbling from the gradient of flesh, and drew in mouthful after mouthful to coat his tongue. It did taste different... Lucifer's magic sung in his blood, and Alastor's pupils dilated in fixation.
Yes, it'd certainly be rude to turn down the gift of a King. And here he thought they were chums!
Ignoring the screaming corner of his brain demanding to know what he was thinking, letting himself be some sort of little juice packet, curiosity and recklessness insisted everything would be fiiiine.
Maybe it'd be fun.
He wasn't going to back down on a consideration like this, no sir! The Sin of Pride wasn't going to be a cad!
Fascinated, his breath unexpectedly caught as Alastor lowered. It really did seem like some sort of gesture, sending his mind dabbling into the only mostly-uncharted waters of... things he hadn't entirely considered before recently, the source of the game he'd been playing during lunch.
He bit down and it was like a firm pinch, a flash of heat. He grit his teeth against it and made... alright, not the most dignified sound about it, but it drove his breath from him in something bordering on stumbling; a fight to keep from voicing his discomfort, or a shout at him to take it easy.
He'd had paddles, whips before. He'd had a grand manner of things to suit Lily's tastes whenever she had them, and he was a very willing participant. But to have been bitten to the point of broken skin, to be tasted like this was... something he needed to seriously unpack later.
Perhaps a safe word would have been helpful before diving in?
But the hand that went to the top of the sinner's head didn't quite push him away. No, it settled, delved through soft red, gave Lucifer a level of focus on the ebbing heat in his arm, soft lips, the firm tongue. What would all that feel like on a leg? A shoulder, perhaps?
...How about the neck, among so many other places that could hide under a sleeve or a collar...?
It wasn't quite that he was pulling magic out of Lucifer, not really... but the magic was so saturated in the blood that it was like the kick of a potent cup of coffee - but so much more viscerally satisfying. Alastor slowed his sucking, licking up the blood and looking through red bangs at the king.
His sclera had gone dark as his eyes otherwise glowed, every ounce of his heart pounding and telling him to bite, devour, consume-- he's delicious.
Instead he focused on the hand in his hair. The way his skin was a bit sweaty from the pain, just the faintest bit. Alastor dragged his tongue over the bite wound, his tongue almost numb from how the blood tasted.
His breath caught with the look in his eyes. As a King he should feel offended with how predatory, how intense it had looked, but it instead twisted his stomach into a knot.
Coupled with the feel of his tongue, the suckles against his skin, Lucifer was having a hard time feeling different than long, warm nights of the past where he enjoyed those same touches feathering over his body; nights where he felt like he was home and everything was perfect. ...Mostly perfect.
Mouth slightly agape save for a small swallow of mercy to wet his mouth again, he wondered if Alastor knew to stop. ...Or if he should tell him to stop. But he did only have so much blood, and may wind up spending the next hour or two woozy at this rate-
He'd been so kind to Charlie. He'd been there from the beginning. He can be a catty asshole, petty beyond all reason, but he was nothing but a gentleman to Charlotte--
But the Radio Demon spoke, and Lucifer's remembering to breathe again was a very small gasp.
Then a slightly not-very-together laugh.
"Hi-high praise...! HA! I knew I had to be tasty! Should I bring some the next time? I might have a bottle lying around somewhere for a special occasion."
"Next time? My, my. You'd like this to be a reoccurring ritual?"
Alastor chuckled, running his fingers over the bites as they sealed up. Once they did, he spun Lucifer around, taking full advantage of the bloodless dizziness he'd inflict to twirl the king and catch him in his arms.
"I can appease your masochism in secret if you wish. Shall I escort you safely back to the Hotel? Need I carry you, after the bloodletting?"
"Wh- I... Iieeeooh-" Perfectly dignified attempts to explain himself scattered to the floor, bites sealing closed beneath attentive fingers. He was left defenseless for the twirl that should leave him wobbling in his boots.
Instead, he was... caught, and mildly deafened with his heart thundering in his ears.
He hadn't felt like- like this since... since Lily... but...
He held on tight to the other man, mid-swoon. Half of it was from the mild anemia. The rest was... uh-
His mind and his pride said 'Thank you, I'm fine'. But his mouth decided to rebel:
"Good man," Alastor chuckled, bending at the knees to properly scoop Lucifer into his arms. Hup! He's carried corpses and so much dead weight before. But the king himself is warm, light, and fits quite perfectly in his arms without Alastor needing to adjust or hoist weight any which-way.
"It'd be quite rude of me to drain you dry and not get you back safely while you regenerate. What kind of man I would I have been," he chuckled in amusement, strolling with confidence. It was more physical contact than Alastor had allowed in a long, long time... but after their dancing, it only felt natural to have the blond close. There was a strange, interesting little bubble of some kind of emotion in his chest... something to mull about later, with a glass of rye.
He was lifted like he weighed nothing, yet his heart jumped higher than his own body. Lucifer Morningstar was no fool, he... even as woozy as he was, he was feeling some puzzle pieces falling into place.
But what in Hell could he even do with this revelation??
Hesitantly, he brought a hand upon the red lapel.
"Such a gentleman. Why, I'm feeling a little better already," he answered, a quiet laugh in his voice. Perhaps he wasn't entirely sure what to do with this puzzle, but that didn't mean he couldn't... enjoy... this...??
It was funny, in a way - Alastor knew full well that if Lucifer were so inclined, a mere snap of those slim fingers could reduce the radio demon to complete mincemeat. But those same impossibly powerful fingers were just resting, feather-light, on his chest. Lucifer was such a fascinating little dichotomy.
Maybe it was that discrepancy of power that lended a sense of certainty. If Lucifer didn't enjoy him, Alastor would be gone - one way or another. But here they were, the fallen seraphim small and light in his arms like a...
Well, like a duck.
Ducks at least were far more endearing when they weren't made of rubber. When they were small, feathery, light and soft. He could find himself enjoying a duck, for certain.
Thus he threw care out the window. He hadn't been carried in ages, and in such strong arms, yet held with such care...? He felt like he could he held like this forever.
Forgive him as he helped himself to a bit of leg-swinging from his delightful position. Spoiling, he said...?
"As if I haven't been spoiled already with a lovely lunch and a fine escort! But your king is most pleased, and hasn't feasted quite like that in some time! Pity the lovely hostess wouldn't sh-shaaarrewhoa..."
How could a creature of ivory skin get more pale? But the mild dizzy spell that hit and caused his world to spin caused his fingers to curl, a clutch of that lapel, and a momentary rest of his temple against the collarbone.
Anything to aid him in his battle against a surprise fainting spell.
The theatrics were endearing, but the fainting spell-- that earned a chuckle from Alastor, even as he carefully shifted his hold just to be sure that Lucifer didn't tumble out of his grasp.
...His heart was hammering. Yet despite that, there was a strange calm he felt, having Lucifer rest his head on him. A sort of closeness he rarely shared, much less initiated, and after so long of not wanting anyone close it was... a pleasant reprieve.
"Overestimated how much blood I could take, I see," Alastor chuckled, endlessly amused with this ridiculous man. He really was just as much of a charming belle as Charlie was. "We'll make sure the next nibble is when you're already settled and seated for the evening to spare you the trouble."
Lucifer drew a slow breath, eased it free. He shut his eyes to block out any wobbling, but felt steady and... safe... in the sinner's arms.
To think he would be held like this, despite what he is as a fallen seraphim. Despite all that, Alastor never ceased to jab him to get him off of his ass or engage him in even a cordial manner. If there was any fear of him and his power, the infamous Radio Demon certainly didn't show it.
...And despite any denial, he was an absolute doe with Charlie.
He slowly opened his eyes, but hadn't moved from his position. He couldn't deny that he wasn't... the biggest guy, so the amount of blood in his body didn't entirely compare to others.
"Pfft! 'Overestimated'! I was dessert!"
A finger half-heartedly jabbed his chest.
"Really, I'll be flattered once everything drops twirling. Now that I know you find me so damn delectable, I'll prepare better."
"I'll be sure to appreciate what a treat it really is. Keep a hold of water and a little treat - ahh, yes, I'll make beignets again, that ought to be perfect instead of a dull cookie," Alastor chuckled, enthralled with the idea.
They must've been quite a sight. Alastor could hear the high pitched buzz of a drone nearby - oh, he hoped that it stung Vox to his core with bitter envy that Alastor was getting so chummy with someone so powerful. Bloviating bastard, didn't deserve an ounce of the ego he had...
The walk up the small incline to the Hotel entrance was the last call for Lucifer to ask to be put down, if he didn't want to be carried inside - Alastor himself didn't seem phased in the slightest.
"All the beignets, you understand," he stressed, his voice a playful growl. You had him hooked, Alastor. He could never stop at just one.
"But seeing as I don't have one in my hand right now, I think you can still make this little bit of extra blood loss up to me." He tipped his head back and grinned at him.
"My ears?" Alastor asked, gasping melodramatically as he waltzed into the lobby. Time for everyone to gawk, of course, and Alastor couldn't resist confusing and perplexing them. It was funny!
"Why, that's so forward, Lucifer... but I suppose you've offered so much of yourself to me..."
"What the fuck," Vaggie stared, perplexed, from where she was eating leftovers for lunch on the sofa.
"Dining table, young lady, tsk tsk. Or at least the kitchen, if you're going to eat. Keep from getting mess everywhere."
"Exchange a privilege for a privilege then. You're a fair and kind deal-maker," Alastor chuckled, setting Lucifer down on the sofa and taking a seat beside him. The bags from their trip are unlooped from his arms and poofed away in a flash of green and a snap before the Radio Demon turned and bowed his head to Lucifer, letting him get a feel.
He never really noticed how cold the sofa was until he was placed. Did Alastor know he was a walking heater? Might explain the big appetite...
How handy! He would find the bags exactly where he'd need them later, but he (slowly) shifted to get himself sitting upright properly for the time being.
Because it was ear time.
"Stick with me, Bambi, and you'll learn. You make arrangements for as long as I have, and you learn to pick and choose your prizes." He wiggled his fingers eagerly, then saaaank his fingers in.
...And in and in and holy cannoli, he had some fluffy satellite dishes! He couldn't mask the little exclamation of awe. Don't mind him as he swept to the bases before taking a meticulous trail through the deep red in one slow, smooth stroke to the black tips.
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sugaronthecream) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
divinetree2024-04-01 08:17 am
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Lucifer brought a hand to mask and leaned for a theatrical whisper, perhaps a purr: "...And who tasted the best...?"
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He chuckles darkly.
"I don't imagine he was paying terribly much attention - he could only form the words to curse my name."
Still-- Alastor paused in their walk, tapping at Lucifer's chest with his mic. "Now what's got you so terribly curious, pal? Hadn't you once said that Sinners are loathesome, violent psychopaths when trying to dissuade dear Charlie?"
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The tap had him smirk. "I did! And there are plenty of the lowest of the low living down here in Hell."
He shrugged. "...Yet Charlie sees something in everyone. She sees that second chance for those who want to reach out, and I believe in her and her spirit. While it would be naive to think nobody would ever take advantage of her generosity and kindness, perhaps even use the Hotel for their own means, it certainly never hurts to... ask. Be curious. Get their story."
Lucifer looked up, nudged with an elbow. "...Even yours, even if you don't feel much like checking in, yourself. Why, you've gone above and beyond for my daughter, and for that, I have to... thank you. Sincerely."
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It was an interesting feeling, to be appreciated - at least by someone besides Charlie. Even Charlie was careful not to let herself get too vulnerable around Alastor. He hadn't felt like that quite since he was a living man, and no one knew his misdeeds - yet here Lucifer was, sincere in saying it even after a lengthy conversation about relishing in violence and cannibalism.
"You've given me quite a treat - seeing that the King of Hell isn't just some energetic polka dancer, but is also a fearsome predator lying in wait."
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But Lucifer had gone quiet. A treat, huh...?
"...Say..."
Oh boy, how should he go about this?
"I don't entirely have any exchange in mind just yet, but perhaps what you've accomplished so far has rather earned something, would it not?"
Lucifer Morningstar, let's not beat around the damned bush. But talk had been planting a seed in his brain that had begun rapidly growing into a curiosity!
"You've had Exorcist, yes, but surely... seraphim... must be better?"
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And yet here he was, offering it as a treat.
"Really now! You'd offer me your body for a reward? Even in part? Fascinating," he mused, pinching Lucifer's arm like he was gauging the meat on the bone. "And quite funny - I would indulge but alas, I think Charlie would be quite cross with me if her father came home from Cannibal Town missing any appendages," he bemused, 'affectionately' patting Lucifer's head.
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But the King grinned. "Now, now...! I like my appendages, thank you very much, and you would be right. Charlie has enough to worry about. How-e-ver..."
With a flourish of a wrist, a roll of his fingers, his haul had drawn back a sleeve to reveal a smoky wrist, its odd gradient before its gradual fade to marble white.
"What's a little blood between friends, eh? Color me curious on if mine's different from the likes of these blood-thirsty harpies that pestered my realm like a cloud of gnats each year, led by that bloated windbag! I mean, it must, right?"
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What a strange, morbid little thing for Lucifer to offer him. And in thanks. But a gift is a gift... he shouldn't peer too much at the horse's mouth, right?
Bending at the waist, Alastor almost looked as though he was bowing to kiss the royal hand. But his teeth sharply cut into flesh instead, puncturing and not slashing, careful not to give Lucifer a grievous wound. And from there... he wrapped his lips around the bleeding gold, dribbling from the gradient of flesh, and drew in mouthful after mouthful to coat his tongue. It did taste different... Lucifer's magic sung in his blood, and Alastor's pupils dilated in fixation.
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Ignoring the screaming corner of his brain demanding to know what he was thinking, letting himself be some sort of little juice packet, curiosity and recklessness insisted everything would be fiiiine.
Maybe it'd be fun.
He wasn't going to back down on a consideration like this, no sir! The Sin of Pride wasn't going to be a cad!
Fascinated, his breath unexpectedly caught as Alastor lowered. It really did seem like some sort of gesture, sending his mind dabbling into the only mostly-uncharted waters of... things he hadn't entirely considered before recently, the source of the game he'd been playing during lunch.
He bit down and it was like a firm pinch, a flash of heat. He grit his teeth against it and made... alright, not the most dignified sound about it, but it drove his breath from him in something bordering on stumbling; a fight to keep from voicing his discomfort, or a shout at him to take it easy.
He'd had paddles, whips before. He'd had a grand manner of things to suit Lily's tastes whenever she had them, and he was a very willing participant. But to have been bitten to the point of broken skin, to be tasted like this was... something he needed to seriously unpack later.
Perhaps a safe word would have been helpful before diving in?
But the hand that went to the top of the sinner's head didn't quite push him away. No, it settled, delved through soft red, gave Lucifer a level of focus on the ebbing heat in his arm, soft lips, the firm tongue. What would all that feel like on a leg? A shoulder, perhaps?
...How about the neck, among so many other places that could hide under a sleeve or a collar...?
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His sclera had gone dark as his eyes otherwise glowed, every ounce of his heart pounding and telling him to bite, devour, consume-- he's delicious.
Instead he focused on the hand in his hair. The way his skin was a bit sweaty from the pain, just the faintest bit. Alastor dragged his tongue over the bite wound, his tongue almost numb from how the blood tasted.
"...You'd pair with a lovely bordeaux."
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Coupled with the feel of his tongue, the suckles against his skin, Lucifer was having a hard time feeling different than long, warm nights of the past where he enjoyed those same touches feathering over his body; nights where he felt like he was home and everything was perfect. ...Mostly perfect.
Mouth slightly agape save for a small swallow of mercy to wet his mouth again, he wondered if Alastor knew to stop. ...Or if he should tell him to stop. But he did only have so much blood, and may wind up spending the next hour or two woozy at this rate-
He'd been so kind to Charlie. He'd been there from the beginning. He can be a catty asshole, petty beyond all reason, but he was nothing but a gentleman to Charlotte--
But the Radio Demon spoke, and Lucifer's remembering to breathe again was a very small gasp.
Then a slightly not-very-together laugh.
"Hi-high praise...! HA! I knew I had to be tasty! Should I bring some the next time? I might have a bottle lying around somewhere for a special occasion."
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Alastor chuckled, running his fingers over the bites as they sealed up. Once they did, he spun Lucifer around, taking full advantage of the bloodless dizziness he'd inflict to twirl the king and catch him in his arms.
"I can appease your masochism in secret if you wish. Shall I escort you safely back to the Hotel? Need I carry you, after the bloodletting?"
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Instead, he was... caught, and mildly deafened with his heart thundering in his ears.
He hadn't felt like- like this since... since Lily... but...
He held on tight to the other man, mid-swoon. Half of it was from the mild anemia. The rest was... uh-
His mind and his pride said 'Thank you, I'm fine'. But his mouth decided to rebel:
"So responsible, Bambi... how can I refuse?"
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"It'd be quite rude of me to drain you dry and not get you back safely while you regenerate. What kind of man I would I have been," he chuckled in amusement, strolling with confidence. It was more physical contact than Alastor had allowed in a long, long time... but after their dancing, it only felt natural to have the blond close. There was a strange, interesting little bubble of some kind of emotion in his chest... something to mull about later, with a glass of rye.
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But what in Hell could he even do with this revelation??
Hesitantly, he brought a hand upon the red lapel.
"Such a gentleman. Why, I'm feeling a little better already," he answered, a quiet laugh in his voice. Perhaps he wasn't entirely sure what to do with this puzzle, but that didn't mean he couldn't... enjoy... this...??
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Maybe it was that discrepancy of power that lended a sense of certainty. If Lucifer didn't enjoy him, Alastor would be gone - one way or another. But here they were, the fallen seraphim small and light in his arms like a...
Well, like a duck.
Ducks at least were far more endearing when they weren't made of rubber. When they were small, feathery, light and soft. He could find himself enjoying a duck, for certain.
"A king does deserve a spoiling now and then."
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Forgive him as he helped himself to a bit of leg-swinging from his delightful position. Spoiling, he said...?
"As if I haven't been spoiled already with a lovely lunch and a fine escort! But your king is most pleased, and hasn't feasted quite like that in some time! Pity the lovely hostess wouldn't sh-shaaarrewhoa..."
How could a creature of ivory skin get more pale? But the mild dizzy spell that hit and caused his world to spin caused his fingers to curl, a clutch of that lapel, and a momentary rest of his temple against the collarbone.
Anything to aid him in his battle against a surprise fainting spell.
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...His heart was hammering. Yet despite that, there was a strange calm he felt, having Lucifer rest his head on him. A sort of closeness he rarely shared, much less initiated, and after so long of not wanting anyone close it was... a pleasant reprieve.
"Overestimated how much blood I could take, I see," Alastor chuckled, endlessly amused with this ridiculous man. He really was just as much of a charming belle as Charlie was. "We'll make sure the next nibble is when you're already settled and seated for the evening to spare you the trouble."
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To think he would be held like this, despite what he is as a fallen seraphim. Despite all that, Alastor never ceased to jab him to get him off of his ass or engage him in even a cordial manner. If there was any fear of him and his power, the infamous Radio Demon certainly didn't show it.
...And despite any denial, he was an absolute doe with Charlie.
He slowly opened his eyes, but hadn't moved from his position. He couldn't deny that he wasn't... the biggest guy, so the amount of blood in his body didn't entirely compare to others.
"Pfft! 'Overestimated'! I was dessert!"
A finger half-heartedly jabbed his chest.
"Really, I'll be flattered once everything drops twirling. Now that I know you find me so damn delectable, I'll prepare better."
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They must've been quite a sight. Alastor could hear the high pitched buzz of a drone nearby - oh, he hoped that it stung Vox to his core with bitter envy that Alastor was getting so chummy with someone so powerful. Bloviating bastard, didn't deserve an ounce of the ego he had...
The walk up the small incline to the Hotel entrance was the last call for Lucifer to ask to be put down, if he didn't want to be carried inside - Alastor himself didn't seem phased in the slightest.
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"But seeing as I don't have one in my hand right now, I think you can still make this little bit of extra blood loss up to me." He tipped his head back and grinned at him.
"A touch... of those fantastic ears."
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"Why, that's so forward, Lucifer... but I suppose you've offered so much of yourself to me..."
"What the fuck," Vaggie stared, perplexed, from where she was eating leftovers for lunch on the sofa.
"Dining table, young lady, tsk tsk. Or at least the kitchen, if you're going to eat. Keep from getting mess everywhere."
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But his eyes trailed, lifted to those magnificent ears.
"And what can I say? It's only fair~"
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How handy! He would find the bags exactly where he'd need them later, but he (slowly) shifted to get himself sitting upright properly for the time being.
Because it was ear time.
"Stick with me, Bambi, and you'll learn. You make arrangements for as long as I have, and you learn to pick and choose your prizes." He wiggled his fingers eagerly, then saaaank his fingers in.
...And in and in and holy cannoli, he had some fluffy satellite dishes! He couldn't mask the little exclamation of awe. Don't mind him as he swept to the bases before taking a meticulous trail through the deep red in one slow, smooth stroke to the black tips.
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