The Love You Want (sleep token fic - Polyvessels)

III: Part One

They came to him in a dream as they were teetering on the edge of life and death.

They remembered choking, gasping for breath as their own blood bubbled past his lips as he coughed it up and back on to themself. His chest lit up with fire with every short, wheezing breath, their own blood suffocating him from the inside. His torso had been aflame, burning every nerve as they lay on their side, curled into himself as some sort of protection from the blows that had rained down. Whole lot of good that did them.

They'd called him a freak, an abomination, before kicking their knee in at the back. He didn't remember much after the blow to the side of their head sent stars exploding into his vision. Only the pain as the kicking started, the numbness that spread over his emotions as slurs were being spilled like acid from cruel lips of people with even crueller minds.

The God came to him with a promise of a wish granted as they floated in an expanse of stars. A galaxy lay in front of him, a swirling mass of white flecked beauty and he lay entranced at the sight. There was a presence around him, gentle and loving, voices beginning to speak as though they were right beside them.

"I can grant your wish if you'll become mine, offer your body and soul to me. Spread my message, my existence, to the world through music and I will give you your deepest desire."

"Who are you?" He asks, a little too eager at the thought.

"I am Sleep, though that is not my true name. It is unable to be spoken by your human tongue."

They think upon this answer for only a moment before blurting out their next thought. "Do Gods have pronouns? 'Cause I use he/they and I feel it would disrespectful not to ask for yours."

"You are the first to ask." Sleep comments in amusement, and he feels the God swirl around him like a cold wind though there is no visible presence.

"I find myself partial to being referred to as a he, though whatever my vessels call me is fine as long as it done in respect. I am a God, my pronouns are inconsequential in the face of eternity."

"Then I will use what you prefer." The third affirms with a bright grin and there is a chuckle that is like the booming crash of a waterfall.

"Let me think on it a moment." They state, and the God agrees.

To offer their body and soul to a God he knows nothing about?

He lets them take as long as they need to think over their decision, until finally he comes to a conclusion. Much of his life was spent never accepted by those around them. They grew up thinking they were odd, but despite this, never let the opinions of others beat him down. It was difficult to keep his smile in the face of all that hate, but they managed. Growing up in an adoption home could have been worse. They could have been stuck with abusers, and should be glad they only were emotionally distant. He thinks back to the terror of their schoolyears and the uncertainty of how long he'd manage to keep his current job. He never could seem to keep one for more than a year.

Then he saw those two men in the bookstore. He'd just started the week before and only lasted two weeks in total. Meeting them had been the highlight of his job, of any of his jobs. They were entranced by the two mask wearing cultists with the pretty eyes and prettier smiles. When they showed up one day, they were the talk of the town in a very negative way. Where he lived was small and stuck in the past, so imagine his surprise when two people showed up one day and became the main topic of gossip. It had finally moved off of them and his apparently strange way of dress and who he was fucking. They enjoyed crop tops and skirts as well as fancy modern victorian-esque clothes and patterns. They were always too loud, too much. It was odd, that he wanted to date men, as a man themself.