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I defy my biology - I am not a demon.
But we seek to feast!
I am already dead.
Desecrate the body of a walking corpse, for he himself is the end of the living.
"Are you positive you are not alive?" Katana asked again, lips pursing as he exchanged a sip of Hyperlaser's whiskey for some of his sake. It was bitter, but he didn't seem to mind. Instead though, he took his own drink and was content with its taste.
"Affirmative." Hyperlaser bit back firmly.
A walking corpse, oh bitter motor drudgery.
"You are nothing but alive, Hyperlaser." The ronin remarked, swirling his glass around by four fingers round the top. The clear liquid barely splashed against itself, making no noise as it was set down again.
Claim your afterlife, here, here!
"Do enlighten me, how?" The mercenary turned his full attention to the man to his left. Katana was hunched over to be a comfortable height, relative his companion. He outstretched a hand, asking to take Hyperlaser's in it. He nodded slowly.
Turn your ears away! Let us ravage your remains, your blood and skin and flesh.
Katana took off Hyperlaser's leather glove, setting it down gently. He ran his index and middle finger along his palm, stopping at a point. "Your skin is warm. Warm against mine, surprisingly soft, and comfortingly so. Entirely alive, I feel your pulse in the base of your thumb. It is slow, gentle, constant."
Just take another shot or two of whiskey and have your liver rot for us!
"Externally I could be alive. But inside I'm rotten. I kill and I feel nothing. I drink and I don't feel much better." Hyperlaser mumbled, turning his head away from the ronin to face the few shots in front of him. He raised a glass with his free hand, downing it in one fell swoop.
You tell him, tell that fool this body is for only us to devour.
"You wouldn't want to see me in ill-health, would you?" Katana's hold remained firm, and grounding.
"…Of course not." He answered, only taking a moment to swallow another shot beforehand.
"You are not rotten, nor are you cold. If there is a place for another in your heart," Katana placed his other hand over Hyperlaser's chest, "Then you are not dead."
Blaspheme! Nothing but lies! Your heart is decaying, decaying.
"Do you truly believe I am alive?" Hyperlaser asked, his grip on Katana's hand tightening as he spoke.
No, no! You are the rotting flesh we scavengers adore!
"I do." The ronin was blunt, but entirely honest. His mouth did not twitch with any hint of jest, and his unwavering voice was stabilising for the both of them.
Cease! Cease! Let us enjoy our meal, we can let you enjoy your death.
"Then I suppose I am." Hyperlaser surrendered. His gaze fell on Katana's hand on his chest, which promptly moved. He missed the warmth.
You can't be. You aren't, let us guide you to the mortal relief you've yearned for.
"Truly, there is beauty in living." Katana did the truly unthinkable, the inconceivable, and removed his mask. His face was scarred, broken, and torn. Just like his own, and thus he lifted his own helmet and set it on the counter.
JUST DIE FOR US.
"I appreciate you being alive, with me." Hyperlaser's fingers intertwined with the other's, and his breath hitched as Katana moved closer. Their eyes reflected each other's colour, blue and red meeting in adoration and awe.
"To prove myself, if I must, and if you'll allow me," Katana's touch against the mercenary's jaw was enough to send him into a thick silence, though a prompt nod was all the confirmation needed.
please.
Katana's lips were soft and broken, like himself, Hyperlaser mused, as he kissed back. All the past pain seeped through the cracks, warmth filling where there was nothing. His insides felt quiet, for once in his later life as a hand wrapped around his waist.
Once they parted, Hyperlaser's heart felt like it was suffocating him. A strong hand moved to the stubs on his head, carefully, and caressed the damage, so lovingly. Katana breathed against his neck gently, a sign of living.
Despite everything, Hyperlaser was breathing too, living, alive, being.