Drabble

NOTE: A lot of you asked for additions to commissions you already had going. Those went to ao3 as a part of their already going story lines. This lil drabble is from one of the non-commission pieces and I was privileged to write someones original characters!

“Argos...” Vichama ran his finger around the rim of the wine glass, his lips pursed in interest as he eyed the demon from across the table. “Not to say this isn't appreciated. But I confess, I find myself wondering just what it is you have planned.”

“Is there some reason I can't take my favorite god out for a nice meal?”

“Favorite implies you have more than one.” Vichama sucked the red fruity wine off his finger with gusto. “I don't mind you mixing about with humans or demons. But if I find another god in your bed I'll have something to say about it.” He said this in the most pleasant, sweet tone, but his golden eyes glowed from under his dark brow. Anyone who knew Vichama, or anything about Vichama, would know better than to question if he meant the threat or not. If you ran in their circles, his reputation was nearly as fierce as Argos's.   

 The demon chuckled hotly, as if the threat was a mere flirtation. “Even if they were as much a meal as a lover?” He quirked a brow and raised his glass. “Give me some credit, Vichi. You think any god or demon could compare to you?” He drained the glass and poured himself another one. He'd drain more than one bottle tonight. Mortal alcohol was next to nothing for him, but he enjoyed the flavors none the less. “Come now. We're out. It's a lovely night. Why not enjoy ourselves?”

“Who said I was not enjoying myself? Hm? I am having a positively lovely time right now. But then you know I'm a sucker for being spoiled.” 

“Then wait till you see what I have planned for later.”   

He was hiding something. He usually was. But then that was what Vichama like about him. It had been so long since there was room for some controlled chaos in his life. Argos made him feel like a young god again, back when the world was still immeasurable and the people saw him as the gateway between life and death. Back when his devotees offered him blood and he opened his arms to embrace those who came bravely to death. Vichama ate generously. If Argos was planning something, than he'd reveal it in good time. No use pushing.   
 That didn't make his foot stop tapping.

“Darling, you're going to ware a hole in the floor.” Argos said, but his smile was thrilled. He knew he was getting to the god. He waved for the check however, satisfied that he'd kept Vichama waiting long enough. They walked from the restaurant out onto the busy streets and Argos held his arm, thrilled to have such a fine looking creature near him. “You told about your city once, the one they built for you.”

“Vichamachtitlan.” he said smooth as silk, the syllables rippling from his tongue. “It was magnificent. I would have loved to show it to you. A true necropolis. As many tombs as there were towers built atop one another. Every hundred years they would sacrifice one hundred to me, and the priests would pour the blood onto the earth and I would make the ground fertile.” He looked up into the dark windows of the buildings towering above them and sighed. “New York reminds me of it sometimes. The only real difference is that they do not understand themselves. There is no god who oversees the blood drawn. They make sacrifices of their lives here without purpose or intention. It saddens me.”

Argos tightened his grip, his thumb rubbing across his lovers knuckles. “There is always hope, or so I am told. What if I could make you a god again?” 

“Do not tease, Argos.”

“I am not teasing. What if I could do it?” He grinned, the sharp points of his teeth showing through his plush lips. “What if you could be worshiped once more, if only for a little while? Would it please you?”

“Of course it would. Is there any god who doesn't dream of returning to their former glory?” Vichama sighed in irritation, shaking his head at Argos. “You don't understand. I know you mean well but you can't force someone into worship. You can't make someone believe. It's something that happens in the human spirit. When the divine meets the mortal, when the mind opens up to it and feels real belief. It...” He searched for words. Demons did not believe. They knew too much to believe. Faith was utterly inconsequential to them. “I am sorry. I am not trying to ruin our date night.”

“Who said you are ruining it?” Argos grinned. “I want to know these things, Vichama. I am glad when you share them with me. It feels that there is so much I don't understand. I appreciate the knowledge you offer.” He walked with his god's hand in his own. “I have a gift for you tonight, if you trust me.”

“Trust you? Like I trust a fox in a hen house.” But he did not pull away. Argos was dangerous, and exciting. And so very many things Vichama knew he shouldn't like. Thats what made it such a thrill to let the demon drag him down the streets to a door in a back alley. “And where is this?”

“A little place I own.” He grinned and pressed his fingers to the door, undoing the seal to let them in. “I stashed your gift in here.” he pulled Vichama into the room and closed the door behind them. “Come on now, don't be shy.”

Vichama looked into the house. It was clean, well decorated, obviously not Argos's by nature or design. He was about to ask whom had been living here before hand when the soft sounds of a whimper reached his ears. He walked into the living room where he saw a man tied up on the floor, naked save for the red glowing bonds about his body and the blindfold on his face. “Argos...what is this?”

“This is for you. For us.” Argos teased a claw down the man's back and grinned proudly. “I will tell you later of all the terrible things this man has done, but for the moment, he is very willing to worship if it will save his own soul. He does not want to go with me to Hell, do you little mortal man?” The human whimpered and shook his head, not daring to raise from the ground. “So I think he will be very option to a little proselytizing, should the right deity appear.” Argos sat back and crossed his legs, looking far too smug with himself. “Well Vichi? Give him someone to worship.”