"Hey Man..."

"I don't have to save you next time, if you prefer," he replied, shrugging. "Though in this case, I wouldn't have stayed behind, anyway--that demon was killing many young men. I did it for all of them."

Mars couldn't deny that Priestly had saved his life.

"Fine, thanks or whatever, but...I'm not gonna just...you're disgusting so don't expect me to ever stay with you. I'd rather sleep in my car."

"That's fine," he replied, grabbing his things. "You can go as soon as I'm done cleaning and bandaging your wounds."

"Who says I need your help?" he replied, knowing he needed help. He just hadn't wanted to get Priestly's help.

"They're on your back," he replied, holding the door open for Mars. "You need help."

Mars shoved past him.

"Fine, but we're doing it in my room and with my medical supplies so you don't do anything weird."

"I don't mind. Am I spending the night?" He hummed quietly to the music as they waited in the elevator.

"Of course not! I only have one bed, and even if I didn't, I'm not sleeping anywhere near you, you filthy pervert," he grumbled, examining the scratches on his sides. They weren't near as bad as the ones on his back. Scars, he thought briefly. He'd probably have scars.

"What makes me a pervert, as opposed to you?" he asked, walking to his car. "I'm just curious."

"Me?" he asked, completely taken back. "I, for one, have never masturbated next to anyone. In fact, I've never masturbated at all. In fact, I've never even had sex!"

"Wow. I guess you are young, aren't you? That'll all change sooner or later." He grinned, leaning against his car. "Sex is part of our nature."

"Sex is for procreation and nothing else," he insisted, crossing his arms. "Follow me to my hotel room, and if you get lost, I don't care."

Mars went back to his car, sighing as his back touched the seat. It hurt.

At his hotel, he went into his room and greeted Rainsford. Knowingly, the dog looked over him as he removed his shirt and examined the wounds in the mirror. He felt his forehead, too, and the caked on blood flaked off.

Priestly walked in after him and set his bag on the floor.

"Bring out your supplies, please."

"In my bag," he motioned, then realized his mistake. "I'll get it!" he replied immediately afterwards, rummaging through his bag instead. He would look truly ridiculous if Priestly saw the lubricant and condoms he kept in his bag, after his rant about it earlier.

Priestly sat down on the bed and stripped off his own shirt, trying to get as little blood as possible on it.

"Will you dress my wounds, or am I dressing my own?"

"I can help you, I guess," Mars replied, finally digging out the first aid kit. He was going to sleep after he was done. He ached.

He took out the alcohol to clean Priestly's wounds, which looked far less bad. He rubbed it onto a washcloth and pressed it to Priestly's arm.

Priestly winced and gritted his teeth, but his smile didn't fade.

"Thank you. She was a feisty one, wasn't she?"

Mars ignored him, until he was finished bandaging up both of Priestly's arms.

"Hurry up and do me, I'm tired," he complained, sitting on the bed.

"I'd love to, but you said you aren't into that yet," he replied, skillfully cleaning Mars's wounds.

"Ah, you're lucky--I don't think you'll need stitches. It's good, because you can't take these to a hospital."

Mars felt his face turn red.

"You know exactly what I meant, you disgusting pervert," he hissed. "And what do you mean 'I'd love to'! I'm barely even legal, you're like 70!"

"No, not at all--can't you tell I'm only...twenty-two?" He waggled his brows and smiled. "Besides, you may be a young thing but I was younger than you when I had all the boys and priests clamoring after me. Though, of course, that's because it was Catholic school."

He lifted Mars's arms and began cleaning the wounds on his sides.

"I believe that sometimes people just need to get fucked, you know? I used to be just like that. You kind of remind of myself when I was younger, you know--down to the lack of parents."

"Ha!" he scoffed, trying to hide his obvious grimace. "You're thirty-two at the absolute youngest."

Mars watched him, not letting his eyes off of him for a second. He didn't want to know what the man would do if he wasn't watching.

"Besides, I'm not even gay," he insisted. "That's a sin."

"You think God hates people for falling in love?" he inquired, chuckling.

"Fags can't fall in love," Mars replied with an amount of certainty. "It's all about lust."

"Really?" he asked. "So, you've never been in love, then?"