Who Ya Gonna Call?!

Grinning sheepishly Mars replied, "I don't know."

He held out his hand, rolling his eyes.

"Give it here."

Sighing, he handed over the pack of cigarettes and the lighter.

"I don't smoke that often, you know." He tried to defend himself. "Just when I'm nervous, which really isn't much."

Priestly pocketed the lighter and ground the cigarettes into the dirt with his boot heel.

"It's still a nasty habit. Now, what brings you to my neck of the woods?"

"Well, I just figured it was time to come back." He said cheerily. "That, and I'm running out of stories to tell to my Youth Group. They really like ol' Marsy and Priestly. Of course, I don't tell them the whole story, but I think they get enough out of it to understand it, anyway. Oh, but you still know me as Mars, don't you? Did I ever tell you my real name? It's Cyprus, just in case you didn't know. So that's what I go by now. I kind of outgrew Mars, but I kind of still want you to call me Mars. It kind of feels nice, I guess."

He could have chattered on like that all day if he wanted to.

He smiled softly.

"Well, it's nice to see you, but you picked a horribly inconvenient time."

Finally, he shut up with the stupid banter so he could ask, "I did? Why? Should I leave?"

"If you stay, you owe me sex," he said in a dead serious tone.

He laughed somewhat nervously.

"But I haven't done that for five years." He admitted.

"You know me," he chuckled. "My sex partners always get special privileges."

He shrugged.

"I guess I could try it again. No promises on how good I'll be, though."

He chuckled.

"You changed, Marsy~"

He gave him a weird look.

"I did? How?" He asked, honestly unaware.

"Before, you wouldn't have sex with me willingly if both our lives depended on it. Now, you jump at the chance--I almost like the old you better."

He unloaded a briefcase from his car and unlocked the door.

"Would you like to come in?"

"I never said I was excited for sex; I don't even remember how it works." He informed Priestly. "And of course I'd like to come in, how are we supposed to have sex outside? ...Wait, don't answer that."

Priestly just chuckled.

"You're lucky I've taken a vow of celibacy."

Mars just gave him a look.

"Excuse me?"

He frowned.

"...Is that so hard to believe?"

He just shrugged.

"What's in the briefcase?"

"That's not for you to know--but you're welcome to guess." Closing the front door behidn them, he carried the briefcase into his bedroom.

The house itself was barely recognizable; the furniture had all become very minimalist and gothic, with several religious artifacts hanging from the white walls. The video game systems were missing from the living room, and even Priestly bed had clean white sheets.

Mars just stared.

"...this feels wrong." He mumbled to himself, unwilling to touch anything in the house, lest is infect him with it's icky strangeness.

"It's the same house," he said simply, walking into the kitchen. "Can I get you anything?"

"No, I actually have one really important question." Mars replied, following him out of habit. "Why haven't you groped and/or sexually harassed me yet?"

He laughed.

"Marsy, I told you--I've been celibate for the past five years. Don't be a silly gosling."

He laughed too, but it was a much more nervous laugh.

"Right, right. You keep telling me that..." He mumbled.