Zer0 Ne0 // Kovu

In front of him, Omega tilts his head. There’s something on his pupils, a strong emotion Terzo can’t decipher no matter how hard he tries to. “You wouldn’t. You know I don’t like that.”

“Well, of course,” it’s the reply. Terzo’s voice is full of air, barely audible over the whistle of the wind. “You’re not my servant, after all.”

The bed frame creaks when the ghoul’s weight shifts. He sits up, letting the purple sheets fall from his torso and hung around his waist. Terzo’s fingers dart out to him, curl around the other’s forearm and squeeze until he can feel the twitch of muscle under the heated skin. “I still want you to stay.”

“I can’t.”

Like an unpleasant dream, the scenario always repeats itself. Terzo’s logical mind knows what they are doing is forbidden, a taboo, a punishable and shameful act. To have sex with a ghoul for ritualistic purpose is allowed, but not to lay with them in any other context.

More so, it’s unheard of a human, of a Papa to develop any kind of feelings towards them. The ghouls are servants, soldiers, they are followers lessen than humans. In hell, they are low rank creatures who feed off human’s energy like parasites.

To rest in bed with one, limbs tangled and fingers intertwined, is an offence. To cling onto them with tenderness and a heart heavy with love is even worse.

It doesn’t matter. Terzo is not one to follow ancient beliefs or hear the words of closed-minded elders. Still, Omega is tied to the rules, bound by a relatively clear contract.

“People won’t speak, and I’ll lie if they ask. I’ll say we were performing a sex magik spell, gathering energy for the upcoming full moon’s ritual. Whatever.”

A cloud of condensation forms in the air when Omega exhales slowly. He sighs, a hand moving to rub at his mask. Even without being able to observe his face, Terzo knows there’s a displeased expression on it. “I can’t see you without the Papal paint on.”

“Why not? Is that too blasphemous? Too profane?” Terzo teases, moving to sit up.“Will Lucifer himself strike you down with his unholy wrath?”

“Sathanas,” the ghoul corrects, voice gentle. There’s the ghost of a smile on his tone. “King Sathanas is the wrath one, according to you humans.”

“Right. Lucifer is pride. Sathanas, then?”

For a long moment, Omega stays in silence. Terzo’s nails absentmindedly trace patterns on the dark skin of his arms, travelling up and down and sending shivers across the demon’s spine.

That’s the thing with human vessels. They remain sensitive to pain and pleasure, in a way that a demon’s body is not. Being able to possess this carrier is a luxury someone like him can only achieve by making a pact with The Clergy. “King Asmodeus might laugh,” he replies, after a beat. “For my love would be stronger than my lust.”

“Oh, what a shame.”

Terzo’s bare chest moves when he exhales, air exiting his lungs in a series of hollow chuckles. There’s no genuine feeling behind his laugh, noting but an empty resignation. He knows the world of demons is and will always remain mostly a mystery for a simple human. It doesn’t matter if he’s Papa, or if he has studied scrolls after scrolls of mythology and occultism.

They belong to different worlds. Like the horizon doesn’t touch the ground, the earthly realm will never cross the infernal one. Any type of contact is only an illusion, a longing desire between the two of them. It’s in that infinite but minimal space where Terzo finds Omega, where he clings to him.

The ghoul’s voice is a low purr in his chest when he speaks up again. “But King Asmodeus is a hypocrite. You heard the story, right? From the Book of Tobit.”

“I barely recall it. Just some nonsense old men used to spew at me when I was around five years old.”

“It’s an old tale. More ancient than me.”

Terzo laughs. “That’s a lot.”

“You’re not young yourself, in human years.”

Even if he tries to appear upset, Terzo knows Omega is right. He has gotten old, something he both despises and dreads. When he was younger, he used to believe he’d never live to this age. Now, to be this old and still under the claws of The Clergy…

That’s shameful. He has become a conformist, someone who will go up a stage, sing and dance round and round for any resemblance of power and authority.

It’s all a lie, a deceit. A Papa is only a figurehead with no substantial power. He’s a marionette, a puppet with no visible strings. “Continue,” Terzo urges, through clenched teeth.

If Omega notices something is wrong, at least he doesn’t mention it. His arm moves, slithers over the other’s shoulders to pull him closer. Terzo’s skin is cold, naturally running at a lesser temperature that the one a demon can reach. “The tale says King Asmodeus used to haunt a woman. He killed anybody who dared to spose her, before they even managed to consummate the marriage. They said the King was infatuated with her, or simply rejoiced in the pain he caused.”

“That sounds like something people would say.”

“It does. To humans, infernal creatures are only monsters.”

Omega is right. Through history, the infernal divine has been painted as naturally evil, cursed. Demons have become nothing but bottom feeders, destroyers of the world and torturers of innocents. It’s a shame, because Terzo finds so much beauty in them, so many extraordinary qualities that humans can’t even dream to posses.

Breathing out, Terzo’s body falls onto his companion.“I find them quite charming, myself.”

“I know.”

“So? What happened then?”

“A human named Tobias, advised by archangel Raphael, married the woman.” Behind the mask, the demon’s eyes are lost in the distance. Terzo can see his dark pupils tremble, as if he could witness the scene developing right in front of him. “He tricked King Asmodeus into getting away from her, and then Archangel Raphael ambushed and sent him back to Hell.”

“Right, a tale as old as time. The dear angels always win over the wicked ones.”

Outside, the wind falls back into a faint whisper. It feels as if it has become full of their secrets, carefully lowering its voice to keep them safe and sound, away from prying ears.

Deep within the silence, Terzo muses over his words. “What happened, really?” He asks, and his tone is extremely mellow, too delicate.

“I don’t know. The King would be dead and gone before anybody hears it from him, but… stories fly around. Some think he grew attached to the woman and he killed her suitors because their lust for her was far more stronger than the love they felt.”

“He has a heart, then. One that wept for a woman.”

Without warning, Omega’s palm falls on his face. The pressure is surprising but not unwelcomed. Terzo’s fingers curl on the thick wrist, noting the size difference between the two of them. “Don’t say it out loud. He’ll overhear you,” the ghoul warns, but there’s a glint of amusement coating his sentences.

“I think a King of Hell has more important things to do than to mind little old me.”

Cold air hits Terzo’s skin when Omega’s hand drops from his face. There’s a remnant of smudged black and white paint on his palm, and Terzo tries to whip it away with the pad of his thumb. The ghoul stays in silence, lips tight and jaw locked. “You believe yourself so untouchable all the time,” he sighs. “Often I worry.”

“Luckily I have my own demon to take care of me.” The tease in his voice is way subtler than Terzo wanted it to be. For a long moment, he considers what to say and when he finally speaks there’s something thick coating his throat. Is it fear? Is it angst? “Will you kill them, Omega? Anyone who dares to try and bring harm to me?”

In slow motion, Omega’s head turns to stare at him. Even in the darkness, Terzo can recognize the heavy weight of his burning gaze. He doesn’t need to see it to believe it’s there. He’d recognize it anywhere, with eyes opened or closed, here and in the end of the world.

“If it were for me, no one would touch you.”

The sharp nails barely graze his cheekbone. Omega’s hand lingers above his face, floating in the air as if he was afraid to fully touch him, offering nothing but a fleeting caress. To have a monster, full of pointy teeth and long claws, handle him so carefully makes Terzo tremble deep inside.

Omega treats him like he’s precious, fragile even. He treats him as if he was something divine, a god among humans. For the first time in his life, when he’s with his ghoul, Terzo feels worshipped for who he is and not for who he’s supposed to be.

To Omega, he’s not an empty figurehead. He’s divine.

“Stay,” Terzo pleads, when the fingers begin to move away from him. The imploring tone of his voice is one that he uses for no one, that no one else shall hear. “Leave before the sun rises, if that’s what you want. In the dark, we’re free.”

“I’ll be gone before the morning,” Omega forewarns, letting his body fall on the pillow.

Even upon hearing those words, Terzo still clings to his wrist."I’ll keep the Papal paint on,” he rapidly comments, in an effort to disperse the emotions that contaminate the air. An insolent smile stretches his lips. “No profanities under this unhallowed ground.”

“I like you better with your paint on.”

“And I like you better with the mask on.”

The sound of laughter echoes through the carefully decorated room. Over the time, Terzo has filled the place with trinkets and paintings, with everything and anything that caught his eye. It was all in an effort to make that place feel more like a home and less like a prison.

Omega’s body is too warm. Terzo’s exposed skin feels on fire, but he endures the heat as he leans even closer, draping around the other. When the demon’s breathing is slow and peaceful, he decides it’s time to shatter the silence.“What happened to the woman?”

For a few seconds, Omega merely ponders on what to say. “She married a man, and they lived together under the glory and misericord of god, until the end of their days.”

“A boring, tragic fate.”

“Not everybody can love a demon.”

A soft, languish sound exits from the ghoul’s throat. Even with the mask concealing his face, Omega seems plagued by dread. A demon like him shouldn’t be capable of experiencing such raw emotions, for that is the fate of the humans.

Still, hidden in the shadows and embraced by the one who will become his downfall, Omega allows himself to dream. In the morning, he’ll deny it, but now…

Now he dreams, eyes closed and arms open.

Before the sleep overcomes them, Terzo’s voice rises again. “I’d say not everybody is lucky enough to be loved by one,” he comments, narrowing his eyes too.

Protected by the deep darkness, no Emeritus’ eye casting a judging glow and no kings of hell laughing at their misfortune, they rest in ephemeral bliss.

“I know if I was given more of a budget for outfits on stage I would be able to spread the message even more.” Terzo’s tone of voice is nasally and he uses his hands to accentuate each word, flailing them wildly. “You see the way the crowd looks at me, si? How they watch my every move? Imagine how much more enthralled they would be with me if I had a few more costume changes.” He continues to go on and on, rattling off a few outfit ideas as Omega’s purple eyes start to drift back down to his bowl of spaghetti.

He loves Terzo. He really does. But there are moments where he wishes there could just be silence. His eyes drift back up to Terzo, tuning out the words he is saying completely while focusing on his lips. They are so pouty and he knows from experience that they are incredibly soft. He becomes so focused on them that they start to almost move in slow motion and he drops his fork of spaghetti back into his bowl. Terzo hasn’t noticed and is still talking about… well, Omega isn’t sure anymore. He is too distracted by his mouth, so much so that suddenly he is reaching over the table, his fist grabbing at Terzo’s collar.

“Omega?!” Terzo’s eyes widen before he clasps his mouth shut. Omega swallows thickly, holding him there for just a moment. His eyes drift back down to Terzo’s now closed mouth – this is one way to get him to be quiet. He knows another way, too, and decides to act on it. He tugs him so that Terzo is nearly on his feet, leaning over the table. Omega’s face is almost blank but there is a barely perceivable quirk of his lips before he leans in and kisses him. Terzo gives a soft, surprised sound and then relaxes into the kiss, moving his lips carefully against Omega’s. He lets go of Terzo and moves his hand back to his fork, messing with his spaghetti again. Terzo stays standing for a moment, then slowly sits back down. There’s some silence between the two of them as Terzo starts to adjust back to normalcy.

“You know, if you want a kiss you can always ask instead of making a scene, Omega.” Terzo says slyly, but Omega knows that he loves the attention and the grand gesture of it all. He offers a small scoff before finally shoving a fork full of spaghetti and clams into his mouth.

Terzo quietly sighed as he stared at himself within the mirror. The striking confidence that he presented when he walked around was gone. It was all an act of trying to hide who he really was.

Omega pressed himself up against Terzo's back. "What's wrong?" He asked with a soft voice. His arms wrapped around Terzo's torso lightly. The ghoul knew something was wrong he just couldn't exactly pinpoint it.

It was dead silent as Omega felt Terzo slump into him. "Its nothing Omega," he said with a sigh. Of course the quintessence ghoul wasn't going to let it slide. He could see right through the lies as clear as day.

"Something is wrong now tell me," Omega stated as he narrowed his eyes. Terzo tried to give a reassuring smile to Omega but it wasn't working. With a quiet sigh Omega tapped a clawed hand on the side of Terzo's head.

"If you don't tell me then I can easily search through this mind of yours. I'd rather not do that though..." He informed him. Terzo looked up at him with sad eyes before shrugging. "Just fix it. That's all I want, tesoro..."

Omega frowned a little and gently guided him to bed and settled him against his chest. The process started out slow and easy. Omega slowly eased his magic into Terzo and with practiced ease he pulled the bad thoughts away. Omega felt bad with what he had to witness and feel.

Quintessence was a blessing and a curse in its own way. "You're my man... I want you to know that," Omega reminded him with a smile. Terzo grasped the larger's hand in his own. It put his mind at ease and Omega let him. "You look just as handsome as the day I met you."