"You know you should come through the front door more often." I mumbled, cuddled up beside him drawing a picture of something vaguely chest shaped on his chest lightly with my index finger.
Death lay back, his head on the lumpier pillow, he claimed not to notice the difference, but I could have sworn I'd seen him switch the pillows at least once.
"Exactly what does that achieve."
I moved to sit on his lap, loomed over him and kissed his cheek, my back twinged in pain but I liked being able to look at all of him. "I mean for one the neighbours would stop suggesting I'm secretly living here with someone."
"They ought to. You've been telling everyone that I live with you after all."
I smiled and nuzzled his neck, I never considered in the past just how delicious the smell of ash and metal could be. "Yeah, it's fun to do that."
I jumped when I felt something on my leg and looked. The little wispy tendrils of darkness that clung to him like an extra limb were wrapping around my ankles.
It continued up my leg. I shook it, felt it heading towards my thighs.
"Hey, hey." I pushed back, intending to get off of him. "I've got work."
He narrowed his eyes, and snaked an arm around my lower back. "Yes, with me. How many times must I tell you that I am your master. I will teach you all you need to know. This job is fleeting nonsense, and an insult to me."
I rolled my eyes. "You know what suckers say? Suckers say they left their job to work for their partner. That's embarrassing."
"I'm not just your partner I'm-"
"My master." I know. I kissed his cheek, his lips. "My master, the Grim Reaper. I get it. And I'm some kind of apprentice who doesn't get a wage and will never get promoted."
He turned a dark gaze one me, pulling me even closer with a tight grip. "Your human nonsense means nothing to me. You are drawn to it, it is a job you will fulfil regardless, why not submit sensibly and do as you are told."
"I do submit!" I laughed.
He continued glaring but there was a hint of humour in his eyes. "You know exactly what I mean. With all your work you haven't learned the first thing about laying wards yet. You cannot protect yourself without me."
"I can do both."
He said nothing, his hand sliding down shamelessly over my ass. The tickling of the black matter brushing the inside of my thighs causing my to jump a little.
"Work..." I hissed, pushing his chest, pointing at the clock. "I've only got thirty minutes."
Without blinking he casually reached out with one hand to smash the poor, cheap and slightly slow, antique, with a strength that almost crushed it into my bedside table.
"Death!" I complained, but was cut off when he wrapped his hand round the back of my neck and pulled me in, turning us over as he kissed me, climbing back on top of me.
"Wait..." I gasped, his long black nails running down my neck as he kissed me deeply, heated and dangerous. Kissing him was addictive. My I moved against his soft lips unconsciously as they drove down on mine, a taste that resembled wine on his lips, it was intoxicating. "Shit..." I groaned.
I was still sore from the night before, still tender in places, and yet just as quickly that heat was reigniting, that same interest brewing inside me. I wanted more and yet could barely breath with what I had.
Dizzy, I groaned under him, leaning into the kiss, the heat swelling between us. He drove his leg between mine and his hand trailed down my chest. I pressed up with my hands but made no effort.
After some odd four months together I'd figured out that it was really damn hard to say no to the sometimes cruel, possessive hand of Death when it felt so good and came with the softest kisses.
So I melted under him and trembled as his lips closed on the patch of skin where he had left his name marked.
I had to cover it in tattoo tape when I went into work, it was one of his main reasons for objecting as much as he did.
I shivered and gripped his shoulders, the pulsing energy making my legs week and my cock pick up.
"Death..." I groaned. I had no self control, he knew that, he ought to be the one being responsible.
"Be good." He bit my ear.
I moaned as his hand moved lower.
Despite not ultimately coming in late I wasn't having the best day at work. Four case files went missing and we searched all over for them from the cabinet down to the crevices behind the pot plant and the water cooler and finally we found them sitting under my blazer on my desk. Then I sent out an email to a client that was meant to be sent to a different client that had to be recalled but not before the mistake was already flagged on the system.
My boss, who was used to me being one of the most capable ones in the office, was beginning to give me the eye, the one that says I'm considering snacking on your bones later.
I was trying not to blame the obvious culprit of my dazed workday but struggling. I'd gotten barely any sleep last night and the night before that.
Technically, he told me, I didn't need sleep at all.
On top of that I was somehow drawn towards the job of Death's assistant, so that when it came down to it I sort of drifted into helping him out in odd ways.
Every time I showed up he had that pleased little look that made me forget why ghosts were afraid of him.
I rubbed my eyes at my desk and focused on the screen. Finishing something off before heading for the toilet.
I still heard the howling I'd been serenaded with last night. Still felt like I could feel a presence somewhere near me.
Dead people were beginning to get on my nerves.
I had huffed at him and told him I would never quit my job for him, I'd end up like some kind of bored housewife trying to hook up with her tennis coach.
He didn't get the joke in that, maybe he didn't watch enough chick flicks, and swiftly punished me for it even as I tried to explain that it was just a joke.
It worked out for the best anyway, his idea of punishment was not nearly as effective as he hoped it would be.
I left without waking him up the following morning and went to work, just to make a point, convinced I'd figure this double work day thing out. Plenty of people worked two, three jobs. I could do it.
But he wasn't kidding when he said that work would come to me.
Trouble was hovering opposite me, half submerged in the door and floating, as I was sitting there on the toilet.
His wide eyes were looking at me but eyes somehow not meeting mine exactly, I sat still and looked at him with a frown.
No one else was in the toilets but I still didn't love having to talk.
"You okay there buddy?" I asked him.
Finally his eyes made contact with mine and he jumped and screamed like a girl, a look of confused terror on his face as he was seemingly flung backwards through the door. I jumped myself and clenched awkwardly.
I hurriedly finished up in the toilet before rushing out, still doing up my zipper as I left, refusing not to be careful about it.
I genuinely thought they had disappeared for a moment and I should have been relieved but I was too curious to be happy about it, if they disappeared I'd only probably have to hunt them back down later. Death would be pissed if I didn't report a vagrant ghost back to him.
Then, just as I was about to wash my hands at the sink I saw those bright whites of his eyes shining up at me from underneath and I jolted back, rushing to another sink to wash my hands before turning around to face him, keeping my eyes trained on him in case he moved.
Ghosts sometimes felt a lot like spiders to me. I couldn't figure out what they were thinking at first, some of them seemed to have more of their human side left than others, and I couldn't figure out where they were going to move, which direction or what they thought they could walk through.
"Do you maybe need to be passing through the void or something, huh?" I asked him, realising my voice was sounding a little like an owner to a pet.
He shook his head, looking nervous.
He had big eyes, hair was a natural strawberry blond, eyebrows darker in colour, lips formed a cupids bow and rounded shoulders. He had all the kind of facial features I liked in a boy. Looked elegant, soft and cute, kind of impossible not to notice it.
Even the way he floated was sort of cute.
"You need something? Left something behind, need something done, want to figure something out?"
He needed some help, there were only a few reasons why ghosts ended up here. From the look of how uninjured he was I was guessing he floated off from his body without realising the injuries.
Once he realised he was death he'd feel the pull to drift into the void. It was like a magnet but spirits didn't always realise it was mental.
Honestly it seemed like they needed a therapist more than the ol' Grim scaring the bejesus out of them.
That, so far, was mainly what I did when I was helping him out. Death really only tracked them down, shoved them back to the afterlife screaming, I figured we might as well try to calm them down and try to get the ghosts, spirits or ghouls to pass on naturally before he, or any other minion, took them away screaming and begging.
He found it an annoying waste of time but despite how much he toted himself as my master he did happen to do a lot of what I said.
Rumour has it the scary guy likes me.
"Body..." The ghost whispered.
I crouched and cocked my head.
"I can't find... my body..."
I hummed, that made sense, that happened. Sometimes people died without noticing and left their bodies behind, and when the reapers came, usually late, to take their souls away, they were already miles off.
I looked around.
Ahhh... I should get Death, I glanced at the ghost. Would he get freaked out by him? Hmm... Most people did. Death liked people to fear him, in a way it was also part of his job.
But he'd specifically told me not to go off with ghosts on my own. My presence was somehow amplified by them, they let off these faint little beacon signals to the minions, they grew stronger when I was around them, but that didn't mean they came immediately unless you explicitly demanded for them to come, they seemed awfully lazy.
The problem with that was that it signalled to demons as well, the ones that threatened to turn my skin inside out and chew on my bones.
Death had once told me I could heal from anything, I had indeed watched cuts and scrapes heal up slowly as I watched.
I wasn't sure I wanted to experience healing from that.
I turned to looked at him, big eyes and small eyebrows pointing up to his forehead, he looked a little scared.
"So you can't find your body. That's no big deal."
I thought a tear slipped out of his eye and rolled down his cheek, nothing physical because how could a ghost cry, but as long as he thought it was there it was there.
Dammit. How could I let Death scare the shit out of this cute little frightened ghost. I wouldn't let him, I could get this done on my own.
"Shall we go and... Uh, look for it for you?" I asked him, scratching the back of my neck.
I shouldn't do this. Death would roast me alive for this when he found out.
He looked at me with big sad eyes.
Ahh bollocks.
[A/N] Big big love to these guys...
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