A/N: Hey, here's the next chapter! I do hope you enjoy!
He wanted to know what was wrong, and he'd be damned if he didn't find out.
Eric hated sneaking around; he was brilliant at hiding in the shadows on the solid ground, but attempting to slowly hop across the roofs of buildings whilst attempting to follow another shinigami was proving to be rather difficult. Cloudy skies with no moon out meant that although he had a better chance of hiding if caught, it also meant that Eric could very quickly lose track of the shinigami he was following.
The shinigami was quick under normal circumstances; if he caught on to the fact that someone was following him, he'd be quicker.
As if the fates had read Eric's own mind, his distraction meant that he wasn't paying full attention and too late Eric noticed that he was loosing track. Even in the darkness, the shinigami had realised he was being pursued and had managed to evade Eric long enough that the blond lost sight of him.
Moving back a few feet, Eric looked around to the ground and saw a shape slink into the corners of an alley, fast and clearly attempting to evade being caught. Whether it was a demon or not, Eric couldn't be sure. Grinning to himself, Eric jumped down from one of the roofs and landed soundlessly on the hard, wet floor of the darkened alley. He hadn't even straightened himself before someone gripped his arm and yanked him backwards against a smaller body, a familiar meat-cleaver scythe going up to place against his throat. The gloved hand was gripping the cleaver near the end of the pole where it sharpened to the blade, rather than the end. The length of the scythe alone made him realise that the shinigami he was following him had caught him.
There was a sharp intake of breath behind him before he was released and roughly turned around. The eyes of the man in front of him widened momentarily before they narrowed suspiciously.
"Eric? What are you doing?" At the question, Eric gave a light hearted shrug and a grin.
"Well, Alan, I was taking a leisurely stroll across the rooftops before you attacked me." Alan frowned and raised an eyebrow at his friend.
"You were following me!" A statement, not a question. Eric smiled wider.
"Now see, if you knew, why did you ask?" Eric tried to be irritable to get a reaction from Alan. Instead, the brunette let go of Eric's shoulders and turned away.
"I'm working."
"Your shift ended an hour ago."
"Why are you following me?" Alan didn't receive an answer, and turned back to face Eric to demand one from his blond partner. He was met with a wry grin as Eric pushed him against the wall of the alley, lips claiming Alan's before the smaller brunette even registered what had actually happened. He resisted momentarily, caving only when Eric slipped his knee between Alan's thighs to elicit a gasp from him. It worked, and Alan become too preoccupied with Eric's fingers trailing up his left side and with kissing him fiercely that he didn't notice Eric slyly pulling down his tie clasp and unbuttoning the first few buttons of his shirt. Only when Eric slipped his right hand under the fabric of Alan's shirt and cold fingertips brushed over his heart did Alan notice, and even then he wasn't willing to do anything other than invading the mouth of his partner. It took a hard press onto his chest to fully pull Alan back to attention, and it was partially with the help of Eric fully letting go of Alan and pulling the shirt open further.
"That…" Eric panted, eyes locking with Alan's, "Is why I followed you. What is it?" Ignoring the question, Alan steadily held his lovers gaze, refusing to look down to his own chest. He knew all too well what he'd see, and pretending to think that Eric would be pointing at something else would be idiotic. Alan knew exactly what Eric was indicating; the wispy, bright white lines that traced around his heart could be seen all too well despite his pale skin. It was the only real outward sign of the Thorns itself that he could hide at all times, and the fact that Eric had noticed it seemed to shatter everything he'd managed to hide.
"It's nothing, Eric. A few scratches." Eric simply looked at him, showing Alan that he could see straight through the lie and, to prove it, he pulled a bottle from his suit pocket.
"Then what's this?"
"Give me that! Have you been snooping in my drawers?" Alan took a step forward, his eyes narrowed. Eric stood his ground, one hand still on Alan's chest as he shook the bottle with the other hand.
"You left it on the table before you left for work. Alan, don't lie to me, what's wrong with you?" Eric asked slowly, allowing Alan to snatch the bottle from his hand.
"It's just a cough powder remedy, for when I get trouble breathing and coughing."
"You're a Shinigami; you don't get coughs and difficulty breathing unless…" The blond trailed off, watching Alan's eyes twinkle with unshed tears as the answer lay there bare on his partners face. Slowly, Alan removed Eric's hand from the wispy lines on his chest and gripped his hand tightly, transporting them to an alley similar to the one they'd just been in.
"It was three months before Grell arrived, right here in this very spot. I'd gotten distracted, and the soul used my second of hesitation to get in. That really is all I can say; Eric, I wanted to tell you, but-"
"-but what? You didn't trust me enough to stick around?"
"I didn't want you looking at me with an expression that blatantly told me 'You're going to die soon.'" Alan let go of Eric's hand, letting it fall to the blond's side as he tried to justify keeping it secret.
"I wouldn't do that, Alan."
"You're doing it now! I didn't want you looking at me like that, and I didn't want you fussing over every activity I'd do out of worry!" Alan ranted, becoming stressed and already feeling the familiar rattle of his lungs as he started to feel difficulty breathing. Eric was at his side immediately, one arm around him and looking into his face.
"Alan… You should have told me sooner." Alan looked up at him with an angry retort ready on his tongue, but felt all anger dissipate at the uncharacteristic look of hurt on his partners face. He crumbled, seeing Eric looking at him like that, and gave a sigh of defeat.
"I'm sorry…" Closing his eyes lightly, Alan rested his head on Eric's shoulder and tried to slow down his breathing.
"There'll be a way to help you, Alan. I'll protect you from the Thorns, I swear." At the words, Alan had to resist shaking his head; he'd looked into a cure, and as far as the Shinigami knew, there was no known cure. It could be pushed back and slowed down, but the Thorns of Death would claim their Shinigami in the end. Alan didn't have the heart to tell Eric, and simply smiled.
After all, Eric would never go too far to try and protect him from it, right?
William heard the clacking of heels on cobbled pavements before he saw the flash of red hair go past the lounge window. He heard the clicking of the key in the lock before he saw the door getting slammed in the reflection of the hallway mirror. William heard the belaboured breathing of Grell before the redhead appeared in the doorway to the lounge with reddened cheeks and looking like he'd been running.
"What are you playing at?" Grell's voice was shrill, and he was clutching the sides of the doorway in an attempt to catch his breath. His hands were wrapped tightly around his keys to the point where blood was on the verge of being drawn. William raised an eyebrow, eyes on Grell.
"That question, Grell, makes absolutely no sense. Clarify for me, if you would, just what I seem to be 'playing at.'" William could see Grell's temper rising; it was interesting to see the effects of one rumour on him. What on earth would have happened if Grell had ever heard any of the earlier rumours surrounding him and Ronald?
"You know exactly what I'm talking about!" Grell took an angry step forward, his eyes hard but still showing William that he was deeply upset by the latest rumour.
"You shouldn't believe everything you hear, Grell." William reminded him, standing up from his seat and looking down at the redhead. Grell's eyes narrowed, and he crossed his arms dramatically.
"You don't know what I've heard, William!" Grell shot back, taking another step forward as William turned around and made his way into the kitchen. Grell followed.
"Then indulge me. What exactly have you heard?" William watched as Grell threw his keys on the table, eyes never leaving William's.
"You and that Knox kid…" Grell started, waiting for William to finish the sentence for him to erase his suspicions.
"He's one my most competent Shinigami. What about him?" At those words, Grell seemed to explode.
"You're not denying it! I knew it! I knew the two of you were too close to simply be friends!" Grell took another step forward, body twisted at an angle that enabled him to completely look the victim to anyone observing. He looked small and victimised compared to William's straight backed posture.
"That is because there is nothing for me to deny, Grell. As much as your silly, romance-novel obsessed mind would like to think I am engaging in a torrid love affair with Ronald Knox, it is not true."
"But do you want it to be true?" Grell's voice was quiet, and the question completely threw William off guard.
Really, what did he want?
"That split hesitation, Will, is all the answer I need. I just… I can't believe you!"
"What are you talking about?" William had to admit; part of him was baffled on what the redhead's problem was. Another half of him knew exactly what was wrong with Grell and was currently battling it out with his emotional side on how to act.
"I honestly thought that if I came back, everything would be as it was before I left. I thought you'd still love me, that you'd welcome me back. But you're just a stubborn ass who can't decide what he wants!"
"Grell, you and I both know that-"
"Don't you dare give me the speech on how we've both changed! I know very well that we've changed but damn it, Will, I didn't care! I'd hoped for an epic tale; instead you've me working to my wits end! Nothing I do gets me a shred of praise from you, yet you're always talking about 'Ronald did this' and 'Ronald did that' and, frankly, I'm sick of it!" Grell crossed his arms over his chest again, looking more than annoyed as he yelled at William.
"Then leave." The words were out of William's mouth before he could properly control them. Grell's head snapped up to look at William again, more shocked than anything at the words.
"What?"
"You heard me, Grell. Do you hate working at the London branch? Then go back to Greece. Go back to your three day shifts and your calm lifestyle, where you are the centre of attention. Why stay here if you're only going to get angry when I reward those who actually finish their paperwork on time, and do so correctly?" Once William started, he couldn't stop. Tears welled in the redhead's eyes, but it didn't deter William.
"Don't you like the way we treat you here? Then go to the Bahamas, or to the American branch! Better yet, go halfway around the world to Australia, where they'd love you for your sense of humour. If you don't like it here, Grell, all you need to do is sign a transfer slip and I can get you out of here faster than you think." William himself was getting rather angry, and Grell took a step back.
"You see? This is why I hate being here, Will! You're simply awful to your employees and to me too! I've done nothing wrong!" Grell was seconds away from stamping his feet and, in the heat of the argument, knew he'd likely do something they'd both regret if the argument wasn't stopped. The tone of William's next words were serious and professional and, despite the dispute, more an order than anything else, especially to Grell.
"I told you; if you don't like your 'horrendous' job here, leave."
And Grell did.