The Daily Grind, At Least For Demon Hunters

Oh how Mars wanted to deck him. He wanted to strangle Priestly, to wrap his hands around his neck and just...he lost his train of thought, as he began to think of running his fingers over Priestly's neck, down to his chest, and leaning in to kiss him, passionately pressing their lips together...

Mars jumped when he realized what he was thinking about.

"I-I hate you!" he spat suddenly, his face red.

He kissed Mars on the forehead, handing him the bag with the burgers in it.

"Since you're being a silly boy, you hold the food."

Mars rubbed his forehead, frowning deeply. He took the food and dug into the bag.

"I'm going to eat yours, too," he replied bitchily.

"That's okay," he said, touching Mars's shoulder intimately, "I'll be sure to get my fill one way or another.

"Has anyone ever told you how cute you look, Marsy? Positively delicious, in fact." He winked less than subtly.

Mars bit into his burger, glaring at Priestly.

"Only you, like the pedophile you are," he spat, taking another bite out of his burger. He refused to give into Priestly's temptations. Ever. He would stay a pure, beautiful virgin forever.

"You're legal," he said with a grin. "Why, you can sleep with anyone you want, as long as they're not too young."

"That's no excuse for you!" he snapped angrily. "I don't care if it's 'legal', it's not moral! And it's certainly none of your business!"

"What? Do you want it to be my business?" he asked, his smile widening. "Why, Marsy, I hadn't thought about it."

"What?!" he shrieked. "No! I don't want it to be your business! Why would you even think that?!"

"Because you just asked me," he said, feigning innocence. "Why, Marsy, naughty Marsy--are you coming on to me?" It was a struggle to resist adding, "Or will you cum onto me later?"

"I'm not a faggot!!" he screeched, crushing the burger in his hands. It made quite the mess all over his suit, but he didn't notice. "How dare you!! I...I..."

Then, he burst into tears, wiping his gross burger hands all over his face.

Priestly just kind of stared at him, almost running a red light.

"...Mars," he said, trying to hand him a napkin.

Mars slapped his hand away, effectively spreading his burger hands all over Priestly's arm.

"I hate you!" he yelled, still sobbing.

"Mars, the motel is just up ahead," he said nervously, trying not to stare at the messy burger mess. "Why don't we stop for the night? I think I have a Mars bar in my bag, you can have it."

He wiped his eyes, still sobbing.

"I-I'm not a fag!" he shouted again, sniffling uselessly.

"No one said you were," he said, forcing a smile. "Just please, calm down and use the napkins..."

He tried, but Mars was too hysterical to do much about the gross mess he had made.

"I...I hate you!" he snarled, sniffling again.

"We're here," he said, the relief audible in his voice. "Let's hurry up and get inside and get you cleaned up. As soon as possible."

Mars shoved at him.

"NO! I don't want to go...I don't want you! I don't..." he sniffled, trying to clean himself up and failing horribly. He took off his shirt and used it to clean up his face and hair.

Priestly got out of the car, smiling awkwardly.

"...I'll go rent the room. Wait here." He booked it away from the car as fast as he could, not even bothering to disguise his haste.

He returned a few minutes with a room key, unlocking the car doors.

"Come on, let's go, you could use a nice bath, yeah?"

Mars had finally managed to calm down, and now he had cleaned himself up, for the most part. However, he was shirtless and still rather gross.

He was also very upset,

"Look what you made me do!" he snapped angrily, upon seeing Priestly again. He got out of the car and grabbed his bags, slamming the doors shut. "Show me the room, before I kill you."

"Room 35," he said, beaming. Now that Mars had cleaned himself up, he was far less unsettling to be around. Priestly held the room door open for him with a smile.

"I'll fetch us the rest of the things. Looks like I won't be having much for dinner, huh?"

Mars glared at him.

"And it's all your fault, you jerk," he snarled, kicking him in the shin. "I'm going to shower, and if I even hear you while I'm in the shower, when I'm done, I'll come back out and beat you up."

"Why, hear me doing what, Marsy?" he asked, confused.

"Anything!" He snapped angrily, slamming the bathroom door behind him.

He hated Priestly, he convinced himself. He hated Priestly, and not himself. He hated Priestly, because, it was his fault and not his own. He convinced himself that he did not hate himself, but that he hated Priestly, and he felt a little bit better about hating himself. He took deep breaths, and he did not stare too long in the mirror, and he was sure to avoid looking at his body for too long in the shower. All those things helped keep it in check.

Even so, it felt like every time he walked into the shower, he began to drown in self-hate.

Finished, and dressed in his pajamas, he made his way back out the hotel room, hoping to sleep.