what direction will you send your arrow?
mercy is bad for the vision
ruthless will clear it away
have mercy, archer
"you know, you and He are a lot alike."
the television was on. dionysus was curled up on the far end of sebastian's couch, watching a commercial for erectile dysfunction with a rather faraway look on his face.
"you mean He as in.. the man himself?" asked the wine god, head lolling onto his shoulder. sebastian was at the other end of the couch, watching dionysus rather than the tv. he was shirtless. dionysus did his best to keep his eyes on the saint's face.
"He as in the son," sebastian corrected, smiling gently.
"huh," said dionysus. this was the third day. sebastian had managed to wrangle dionysus over to his place--a rather humble one-bedroom apartment; the saint denied himself luxuries, it seemed. making money was easy enough for holy figures, but apparently the saint was too pious to make use of his riches (though dionysus did notice sebastian had suspiciously good-quality clothing).
moving closer to the god on his couch, sebastian grinned. "it's funny, isn't it? you came before Him, after all, and it could perhaps be too similar to be a coincidence, but that's going against everything i believe in."
he paused and pursed his lips, studying the attractive angle of dionysus' chin.
"or, that is to say, we don't really exist, you and i. or Him. that we're elements of fiction, brought to life so people have something to believe, something to blame bad things on, something to explain things beyond humanity's comphrehension--"
"my dear saint, do we have to get all philosophical? i was under the impression you invited me here for a relaxing afternoon visit," grumbled dionysus, shifting again on the couch--this time to fix sebastian with a withering look.
the saint just waved his hand. "it's a possibility, darling, don't deny it. look beyond yourself." he moved even closer. dionysus' heart was going too fast for its own good.
"i'm pleased with what i have."
"are you?" purred sebastian, and dionysus couldn't answer.
ruthless will clear it away
have mercy, archer
"you know, you and He are a lot alike."
the television was on. dionysus was curled up on the far end of sebastian's couch, watching a commercial for erectile dysfunction with a rather faraway look on his face.
"you mean He as in.. the man himself?" asked the wine god, head lolling onto his shoulder. sebastian was at the other end of the couch, watching dionysus rather than the tv. he was shirtless. dionysus did his best to keep his eyes on the saint's face.
"He as in the son," sebastian corrected, smiling gently.
"huh," said dionysus. this was the third day. sebastian had managed to wrangle dionysus over to his place--a rather humble one-bedroom apartment; the saint denied himself luxuries, it seemed. making money was easy enough for holy figures, but apparently the saint was too pious to make use of his riches (though dionysus did notice sebastian had suspiciously good-quality clothing).
moving closer to the god on his couch, sebastian grinned. "it's funny, isn't it? you came before Him, after all, and it could perhaps be too similar to be a coincidence, but that's going against everything i believe in."
he paused and pursed his lips, studying the attractive angle of dionysus' chin.
"or, that is to say, we don't really exist, you and i. or Him. that we're elements of fiction, brought to life so people have something to believe, something to blame bad things on, something to explain things beyond humanity's comphrehension--"
"my dear saint, do we have to get all philosophical? i was under the impression you invited me here for a relaxing afternoon visit," grumbled dionysus, shifting again on the couch--this time to fix sebastian with a withering look.
the saint just waved his hand. "it's a possibility, darling, don't deny it. look beyond yourself." he moved even closer. dionysus' heart was going too fast for its own good.
"i'm pleased with what i have."
"are you?" purred sebastian, and dionysus couldn't answer.