A/N Thank you all my readers and reviewers! I hope you enjoy this chapter. YAY GRELLIAM!
William T. Spears stalked down the hallway to Ronald Knox's office. Fury was not the word he would use to describe his current mood, but he knew no stronger word. He clasped his death scythe in a white-knuckled grip and rapped firmly on his subordinate's door. When there was no immediate answer, he stormed in.
"Mr. Spears," the young man was reaching out to open the door and so the two were almost face to face. "Is…something wrong?"
"Do you know anything about this?" William shoved a clipboard in the young man's face. The papers detailed an inventory check which showed that a very specific death scythe was missing from its place in storage.
"Mr. Sutcliff's?" he asked dumbly.
"Yes, of course. Do you know nothing about it?" William snatched the clipboard back and pushed his glasses up on his nose.
"Of course not, sir." Then he raised his eyebrows curiously. "How did he get in and get it out."
"Now you're asking the right questions. There's no way in without a key and since his were taken away when he was suspended, he had to have gotten one elsewhere." He looked suspiciously at the young man. Knox was the only one who seemed to respect Sutcliff; everyone else regarded him with disdain that came partly from jealously and partly from embarrassment. If there was ever someone Grell would enlist as an accomplice it would be his partner.
"I don't know what you're implying, sir. I haven't talked to him since last night."
William met his eyes appraisingly. Knox, though a little bit dense, was certainly telling the truth.
"Very well, but the fact remains that we have a stolen piece of equipment in the hands of a suspended shinigami. An investigation request needs to be filed. Can you take care of that, Mr. Knox?"
The blond groaned. "Can't I come and help find him? He's my partner after all."
"That may be so; however, this is a problem I should like to solve myself."
"You like him getting in trouble, don't you, sir."
"What?" The second William turned his eyes to Knox his subordinate leaned away.
"I just meant that-"
"Go, fill out that paperwork. I have to catch that rogue before he causes more harm than we can deal with."
"Yes sir…" Knox shuffled toward his desk reaching to pull out the blue form.
William sighed and chided himself for being so rough with the boy. "Mr. Knox, I know you care about Sutcliff, consequently you would stand up for him, and though I know you mean the best, it wouldn't be beneficial to him. Grell needs to know he's in the wrong."
"I understand." It was clear from the young man's words that he did not.
"You must do as I say...for now." He smiled inwardly, careful not to let any trace of it shine through. "Your time will come."
With that, he left his wondering subordinate behind and made his way out of the compound.
William remembered the man who had said that to him: a mentor long gone. The grizzled man was much older than most shinigami: hair white and face crinkled. "Don't be impatient, M'Boy; weigh things carefully. Your time will come." He rustled William's well-kempt hair and shuffled toward the library.
Be shook his head at the memory. That man had been gone for a century; it was imperative for him to keep his mind on topic, especially when dealing with Mr. Sutcliff.
Under ordinary circumstances, Grell's behavior would not have alarmed him on a personal level, it would merely be the professional fury he had come to associate with the flamboyant man. However, because of his unusual behavior earlier as well as his obvious state of disarray on the previous night, William felt there was indeed more to fear than a few broken rules. He hoped he would encounter his friend traipsing through Covent Garden looking at the jewelry, painters, and fruit stands. He often went there to recover from the worst moods. There was only one man who could cause so much suffering, aside from himself of course. He had to give himself a little smirk at that; as much as Grell loved to get under his skin, he loved to reciprocate. Theirs was a give and take sort of relationship, and always had been, but the other man, the enemy, he took and took from the feminine red head and never gave anything back. Demons, he thought, such a waste of consciousness.
William stalked the streets, heading toward Covent Garden simply because he knew how much Grell loved the place, especially the flower vendors.
"Will! The pretty flowers! I think I'm rather like a rose, don't you? And Spring ; it's the season of loooove, you know, so you should buy me a bouquet!"
He turned down James Street and into the Covent Garden proper. As usual it was crowded with tourists and the bourgeoisie. Not his taste at all. A group of children cut in front of him and a man lightly bumped his shoulder before politely excusing himself. Too many people all bustling about; William did not much care for humanity, after all. Though the throng, he spotted the lighted billboard for the Royal Opera house.
"Faust," he read with a chuckle. Mortals are so oddly perceptive; however, they never seem to understand the full weight and implications of what they perceive. The outside of the theatre was swarming with tuxedoed men and women in rich billowing dresses, and there, in the midst of them all was a mousy man with outrageously long brown hair.
William grabbed the man by the elbow and twirled him around to reveal that face he knew so well. "Grell, what are you doing here? Wh—"
"Going to the theatre of course." He jerked his arm away from his superior. "You don't like opera? Why are you here?"
"Where is your scythe? I'm here to take it back to storage." He produced a clipboard from his coat and referenced it. "You now have yet another citation against your name." At that the red head rolled his eyes and William glared. "You're lucky I'm not bringing down the full extent of the law on your head. Technially," he said with relish, "you should be under arrest; no one except officers are allowed to touch the scythes." He pushed his glasses up smugly.
Grell sneered. "You just write me up for whatever you like, Mr. Spears." He folded his arms in a huff. "I was actually in a fairly good mood until you came along. Did you forget I said I never wanted to see you again?"
William hauled Sutcliff away from the crowd and into an abandoned market stall. "If you didn't want to see me you should not have been disobeying the rules."
"That's all you care about, rules and regulations." Now that they were out of sight, Grell ran his fingers through his hair, combing in the scarlet tone. "You don't give a damn about me, do you?"
William rolled his eyes. "At the moment all I want is your stolen scythe. Where is it?" Inwardly, he was happy to notice the man before him looked much better than he had earlier in the day. His eyes had even regained their lusty glow.
Grell pouted and turned away coyly. "Hm, you would like to know, wouldn't you? You'll have to force it out of me. My lips are sealed." At that, he turned profile to and licked his lips suggestively.
William cleared his throat and took a deep breath; he felt a heat rise in his cheeks. This man always insisted on being such a harlot. It was hard for him to keep in composure in the face of such lewdness. "Where is it, Mr. Sulcliff?
Seeming to sense the fact that his superior was not in the mood for more trouble, Grell sighed and turned around, producing the chainsaw from a fold in his coat. "There you go," he grumbled. "You're no fun at all." He shook out his hair, turning it once more to that mousy brown. "Now, if you'll excuse me. I'm going to see Faust."
"Grell, I would prefer to speak to you for a moment."
"I have to go now, or I won't get a good seat." Despite all his reluctance and insistence that he didn't want him, Willim could see that his friend was reverting to his coy and flirtatious attitude. He swayed his hips as he walked by.
He grabbed his arm. "Perhaps," and William couldn't believe he was saying this, "I can give you something better to do?" He said it as sensually as possible, knowing Sutcliff would take it in the most perverse way possible, but at least it would make him come back and not cause any more mischief.
As expected, Grell's hair turned red with passion as he leapt into his arms. "Oooooooh Will, please, please give me something better." At that, he liked his lips and smirked.
William promptly dropped him and attempted to regain composure. "Come on now, we must go home."
"To your home?" The red head clasped his hands to his chest and fluttered his eyelashes.
"Sure," he was willing to say anything to persuade him further. With that, William grabbed his companion's hand and the two made their way back to the realm of the shinigami.
When they reached William's door, he looked at the happily squirming man beside him with trepidation. Did he really want to welcome him into his home? But could he turn down those green eyes, those flushed lips. "Come in."
The flat was much messier than he liked. There were several stacks of paper work on the polished coffee table, a tiny amount of dust had collected on the candlesticks, and it had been almost a week since he had beaten out the area rug. Overall though, he thought, it looked acceptable for company.
"Will, your house is so neat and…," Grell spun around to take in the room, "boring."
"Thank you." Will stood in the entryway, fumbling with his pocket watch. "Are you…feeling alright now?"
"Awww you do care! Yes Will honey, I'm a lot better now." His lips turned down in a faint frown. "I suppose I should have listened to you about demons."
William bristled. He knew it that bastard of a demon. "What did he-?"
"Ah! Don't worry yourself. I'm a big strong woman. I can take care of myself." Grell winked and sidled up to him.
"Would you like some tea?" William mumbled, hurrying to the kitchen.
The redheaded invader trailed after him. "Ooo thank you, Will."
"Don't touch anything. Please have a seat and I'll be back momentarily." When Grell remained unmoving, Will cleared his throat. "Have a seat," he ordered.
Grell sat stiffly on the couch. "It's uncomfortable," he moaned as William gratefully retired to the kitchen.
He filled the kettle and set it on the stove before going to the window and looking out at the always starry sky. At least the weather here was always perfect so he didn't have to worry about that too. The stars looks merry, twinkling away as they always did, and a breeze, not quite cool enough to be uncomfortable, rustled the shriveled leaves of his tree. Such a seemingly perfect and tranquil place, yet those feelings never seemed to permeate his heart. He was forever trapped within himself.
The squealing kettle drove him from his thoughts, much in the way a certain someone often did. He took the kettle of the stove and filled the tea strainer with the fresh leaves. Such a scent. He breathed in the simple aroma of Earl Grey with a sigh. That smell alone reduced his tension with the promise of heat and relaxation. He poured the hot water into the pot, inhaling the steam with a smile.
"Will Honey, did you get lost?" A mop of head hair poked around the door frame.
"Of course I'm not lost." He put the pot and two very plain cups and saucers on a tray before hurrying out into the living room. "My parlor's not a ruin, is it?"
"It's just as you left it, except, I did chew up the arm of your chair."
"What?" William whipped around to that sharp white smile, almost spilling the tea pot.
"Of course not," Grell rolled his eyes and plopped onto the couch, waiting to be served. "I'm not a dog, Will." He raised his expressive eyebrows suggestively. "Unless you want me to be."
At that, William scoffed and set down the tea, pouring himself a liberal amount. The other man waited to be served, but William merely smirked and sat down in his favorite wingback chair by the fire. He sipped the tea and allowed the heat to soothe him from the inside out. He watched the redhead artfully pour himself a cup and curl up on the couch, slipping. His hands were really quite graceful; he could have been a women. He had loosened his tie and unbuttoned his shirt a little (undoubtedly in some attempt at flirtation) revealing his milky white skin and the faintest shadows of a well-defined collarbone. Those delicate curves, undulating slightly as he moved: it was hypnotic. He licked his lips, savoring the taste, and rested his head back, revealing more of that perfect skin. After a moment, the only movement visible was the faint pulse on his slender neck. Suddenly, he cleared his throat and sat up, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees.
"Tell me this," he said in that tone reserved for only the most serious exchanges. "When did you get so jealous?"
"I'm sure I have no idea what you mean." Will straightened his glasses and did his best to wipe his mind of his previous thoughts.
"You were devouring me with your eyes. You've never looked at me like that before. It must be that you smell the musk of another man on me." Grell draped himself theatrically across the couch.
"I was just thinking about how troublesome you are." He clenched his teacup, trying to concentrate on the heat there and not the warmth creeping into his face.
"My antics arouse you, hmm?" Grell stood and made his way toward Will. He wouldn't allow himself to look at Sutcliff. He had to keep this as impersonal as possible. "Sutcliff, please remain seated." By the time he stood and looked the other shinigami in the eye, their chests were practically touching.
"I think I'd rather stand." Oh how William hated this. He knew the red head could smell fear and…other things. He slipped his delicate hands up William's chest, deftly unbuttoning his waistcoat with an evil smirk. "You want me?"
William broke away with a grunt. "You are too presumptuous," he cleared his throat, doing his best to ignore that warm insistent pressure that had now slid down his abdomen. "Drink your tea and then-"
Grell kissed him, but it was not the usual playful kiss he employed to get his way: That was a kiss William could brush off; this was an exploration of some deep longing, a gentle touch infused with restrained passion. Grell stood on his toes to kiss him; William had never noticed that before.
William met his eyes with eager questioning. He was lost and unable to form a single word of assent or argument, feeling hot fingers dipping into his pants. His lips, unbidden, met the luscious ones before him with vigor. He sighed into him, wrapping his arms around the slender man. He wasn't thinking and he didn't want to. This felt too good to think. He wanted to strip off those garish clothes, bruise those alluring hips, and ravish him. It was surprisingly easy to toss the smaller man onto the couch and cover him completely. Ha, William joked to himself, that shut his mouth. Grell seemed to be in shock, and William loved it. He continued to kiss him, forcing his tongue angrily into his mouth, tugging off his precious coat, hastily undoing buttons and revealing that creamy white skin. Oh how smooth. He trailed his fingers up his chest and raked them down, eliciting a desperate moan. Grell tried to sit up, but William would not allow it; he shoved him down, pressing one hand to his collarbone and holding him fast.
"Will?" Those acid green eyes seemed to be full of fear.
William swallowed, his thoughts flooding back into him. How could he have so blindly followed empty lust? He let his body take control, but it should always be the mind that leads. He immediately released his hold on Grell and began to sit up, but he latched onto him and hugged William close.
"Can I say something?"
"Of course," William said, still trembling slightly.
"Sebastian he…" Grell muttered, tucking his face up against his superior's chest.
William's timidity fled instantly and anger bubbled up again. "What did that demon do to you?" When there was no answer, William gave him a gentle shake, surprised when he cringed away. "Grell, what…?" He had never seen him like this.
"Just don't push me down, ok?" There was a trace of regret in his voice. "Be gentle, but please..." Grell met William's eyes in desperate longing. "Don't stop."
He felt a tight tangle form in his gut as he met those lustful eyes with his own. "Be gentle." Since when did this man ever want "gentle."
But Grell wasn't going to give him time to think. He kissed him again and his mind exploded with the sensations of heat, and touch and tangible desire. He felt himself being pushed onto the couch, feathery kisses trailing down his bare chest.
"Grell let me-" He could barely even speak.
"Shh," Grell pressed a kiss to his lips before standing and unbuttoning his pants to pool on the floor at his feet. "Let me."
