When Mars Was A Bitch and Priestly Was A Pedophile

"Oh, come on, don't you like puns?" he asked, still grinning. "Almost every boy I've ever met likes puns. Ah, well.

"In any case, if you tell me what I'm doing wrong, I'll stop." He continued to eat the ice cream in the exact same way.

"Now, tell me--did the father go anywhere before his possession? Acquire any new items, perhaps?"

Cyprus responded by shoving the cone into Priestly's face when he went to continue and eat it like that.

"He got a new rosary, but I've already thought about the possibility." He replied simply. "Of course it's not going to be that, though; ghosts can haunt rosaries."

Looking very surprised, Priestly licked the ice cream off of his lips even more erotically.

"What did you do that for?" he asked, looking sincerely hurt. "...Did I offend you in some way? Do I remind you of someone who once did you a great disservice? Cyprus, we've only just met--I can't imagine why a young man of the Lord would do something so cruel for no reason..." He wiped the rest away with a napkin, looking very solemn.

"If you don't want my help, I can just move on, you know. Drift to some other town--I'm good at that, I suppose."

"I told you to stop eating it like that!" He snapped, pouting slightly. "Just...don't leave yet, you have to get rid of the demon possessing the Father first."

He slicked his hair back again, self-consciously. "Besides, I can pay you. I'll give you my savings, if you just do it."

He smiled again, pushing a stray strand of hair away from his face.

"I don't want your money for payment, but I'll tell you what you can give me. It's only if you're willing, of course." He winked, hoping Mars understood where he was going with this line of conversation.

He, of course, didn't.

"Well, what is it? I really only have money and my rosary, and there's no way you're touching my rosary." He replied simply.

"I want you," he said simply, smiling. "Do you understand what I mean, Cyprus? I would like you as payment."

"...You want me to work for you?" He asked, slightly confused. "Well, I guess that's fine."

He shook his head.

"No, you wouldn't work for me, exactly. You wouldn't have a set salary at all."

"Well, of course not, because I'm working off my debt." He replied, even more confused. "So I'd work for you, and then when I paid off your fee for the exorcism, we'll be done working together.

"...right?"

He shook his head, laughing.

"It seems I'm being far too subtle--shall I just explain?"

He frowned even more deeply.

"Yes, please. I honestly have no idea what you're talking about."

"I am looking for a protege," he said, grinning, "and you might just be the perfect candidate. I want you to travel with me, see the world--a young boy shouldn't be stuck in a church. I'd like to take you with me, when I leave.

"It can be your payment for this job." He winked, taking another lick of his ice cream cone.

"...You want to take me with you?" He asked, his eyes widening. "R-really...?!"

Oh, man, this was his dream. Ever since his parents had died, he had hoped an opportunity like this would arise. But none of the other hunters his parents had known were willing. Besides, this man was a priest! It was perfect.

"...I mean, uh, that's...fine." He tried to look casual, but he couldn't. He slicked back his hair, again, but he was obviously incredibly excited.

"You'd really want to?" he asked eagerly. "Excellent. We'll leave as soon as we cure the father--I have a spare bedroom in my home, so there's no trouble. You'll fit right in."

"We should go right now, then!" He replied, standing up. So. Excited.

"Whoa, whoa, there," he said, waving a hand. "I would like to finish my ice cream first--besides, you should tell me more about yourself. What are your hobbies? What's your favorite color? What makes you feel alive?"

Begrudgingly, he sat back down.

"Uh, my hobbies are cleaning up the church and reading about demons, my favorite color is purp--I mean, uh, red." Red wasn't gay. "And, uhm, what?"

"What makes you feel alive?" he repeated with the same intonation, waggling his eyebrows. "I'm very curious. What lights your fire, kiddo?"

"Uh. I like praying, I guess..." He mumbled, unsure of a proper answer.

He laughed.

"That's what you're most passionate about? Prayer? What a cute, silly boy you are--I like you."

"What?" He asked, pouting furiously. "That was a dumb question!"

"And that was a silly answer, but I think we can forgive each other!" he said sincerely. "Tell me," he said, eating his cone as he began to walk, "Do you have any young girls here you're interested in? I'll bet they're all over you. I know what youth is like, so don't feel shy around me." He laughed again.

"I won't even tell you what my teen years were like, but you could say I was all over others."

"...Are you making fun of me?" He asked seriously. "Everyone knows the girls think I'm some sort of religious freak. They just don't have any morals, though, so it's not as if I'd be interested in them anyway."

He crossed his arms, looking away. "Can we talk about something else?"

"Sure, sure. What about boys, then?" he asked, finishing his cone. "Are the boys the ones who're all over you?"