The Daily Grind, At Least For Demon Hunters

Mars let him, not resisting. He didn't kiss back, however. In fact, he didn't even move. He just let it happen.

It was only a matter of time before his hands wandered, first along Mars back, then to his butt, then to his front.

Mars violently shoved him away, punching him in the chest. He jumped to his feet, wiping his mouth and awkwardly adjusting his boxers. He opened his mouth to speak, but he didn't know what to say.

"Marsy, it would seem you have a problem," noted Priestly, amused. He waggled his brows.

"I don't!!" he shouted angrily, stealing blankets to wrap around his waist. "I'm sleeping on the floor, you...you sinful, homosexual temptress!"

"I can tell you what I've done on motel floors, before," he said, licking his lips.

Mars felt his cheeks grow hot.

"Shut the hell up!"

"I was around your age, in fact," he mused, chuckling. "Still wet behind the ears and all that. My younger years were rather wild, you might say."

"You're disgusting," he spat. "I'm going to sleep, so shut up."

He laid down on the ground, pulling the blankets over his head.

"You'd be surprised how filthy those floors are. A lot of the kinkier johns like them, so you can imagine how many fluids make contact with them on average...not to mention the risk of venereal disease."

Mars gritted his teeth, and stood up, throwing the blanket at Priestly.

"You know what? Fine! You can have your way, you giant faggot!" he shouted, storming to the door and slamming it behind him, as he walked barefoot down the halls of the motel.

Priestly followed him, hastily wrapped a towel around his waist.

"Mars, come back! You need your rest. It's not safe to be outside in a strange place at night."

Mars turned to glance at him, but he didn't turn back around. Instead, he found the vending machines and sat down in the chair at the corner, pulling his knees to his chest.