A/N Oh, forgot to mention in the first chapter, I do not own Kingdom Hospital, Antibus, paul or anyone or anything else mentioned in this fiction that would need a patent. Thank-you.
Paul was furious. Why? He was handcuffed. How you got handcuffs to work on a ghost was beyond him, but that was beside the point. The point was that the bastard who had handcuffed him was sitting across from him, obviously pleased with himself, if that smirk was anything to go by. He leaned forward, trying to get away from the cold iron he was cuffed too. The cuffs bit into his wrists, making him grimace in pain, growling slightly. The damned beast-boy's grin only grew. Sitting on the floor, cuffed to a bed-leg. Only Antibus could take a potentially perverted situation and turn it into something so…odd.
"Antibus, let me go." snarled the cuffed boy.
The boy in question only leaned forward. "No." he said, grinning.
Paul sighed, he had expected that. When it came to Antibus, Paul had known him far too long.
"Why did you drag me down the hallway?"
"…I got bored." responded the black-clad boy, shrugging.
"Okay, why did you bring me here?" asked Paul, surprised. He hadn't been expecting that answer.
Antibus shrugged again. "Bored, what else?"
Paul looked at him, incredulous. "You kidnapped me, dragged me down the hallway, handcuffed me to a bed", Antibus snickered, making Paul grit his teeth. The damned death-god could be so immature at times. Not that he could talk, he was a 17-year-old dead boy, for crying out loud! "And you expect me to accept that you did all that just because you were bored?"
Antibus had sat silently through the rant, cross-legged, elbows on knees, head resting on folded hands, smiling. May bad luck befall him. Oh, wait, it already had. Now it was handcuffed to a bed in an empty hospital rooms in the Old Kingdom. Go figure.
Now the long-haired boy spoke. "Does that really surprise you?" he asked, chuckling.
"You're a dumb-ass." Spat Paul, disgusted.
A smirk on the other's face, typical. "Takes one to know one, my friend." Was the only response.
They sat in silence for a long while after that. The captive, the captor, the captive looking away, seething, the captor staring at him, grinning like the Cheshire cat himself. The sat quietly, listening to the screams and moans of the spirits at unrest wandering the halls. Finally, Antubis broke the silence.
"Feeling tired, Paul?" he questioned, false innocence heavy in his voice.
Paul's eyes stared out at him murderously from under his bangs. "Shut up." He muttered.
Antubis leaned back, satisfied. 'I'll take that as a yes" he told Paul, who only growled, causing the other one to laugh more, making Paul's scowl deeper.
Paul was worried. Antibus didn't seem to have any intentions of releasing him any time soon, which was very bad. Normally, Paul could fade away, leave this situation behind, except now he couldn't, and it scared him. If he didn't get back to the saline tank soon, he'd fade away, more than dead. There was nothing for the unlucky ghosts who had that fate, they simply did not exist anymore, any chance of redemption lost. The minutes ticked by, Antibus still staring at him, still smiling. Paul was panicking now.
"Antibus, let me go! Antibus!" Paul silently cursed himself; he hadn't meant to sound so weak. A certain bastard had probably enjoyed it.
The other boy leaned back, enjoying his captive's struggles. Seeing the younger boy like this amused him greatly. He leaned back a little more and picked up a can that had, up till now, been sitting beside him.
"Want a Nozz-a-la?" he asked lightly, holding the can teasingly out to Paul "it'll perk ya right up!"
The other looked at him, genuine panic in his eyes. "Antibus!" Paul's face begging, pleading, please, please... Antibus held firm.
He set the soda down, never taking his eyes off of Paul.
"Maybe", he said, for once serious. "If you say it right." Paul looked at him, confused. Antibus sighed.
"My name, Paul. Say it right." He gently told the ghost-boy.
The boy glowered at him. they both knew he knew the right name for the leather clad figure in front of him, but Paul liked calling Antibus the name that stupid little brat had given him, it annoyed the death-god to no end and they both knew it. Besides, he wasn't that desperate, yet. A few more minutes crawled by, Antibus waiting patiently all the while. Finally, Paul broke.
"FINE!"He screamed at the death god, "ANUBIS! ANUBIS, ALREADY! NOW LET ME GO!"
Antibus, or Anubis, really, grinned at the panicked ghost-boy. I don't recall hearing a 'please,'" the death-god mused.
A wail from his captive. The silence drew out it's breath as time inched by. Paul glaring hatefully through his bangs at Anubis, too tired to really do anything else. The death-god simply waited. Finally, finally, Paul's need won out over his pride. His shoulders slumped; his head dropped to his chest.
"…I'll do you a solid" Paul muttered.
Anubis cupped a hand around his ear and leaned forward, looking very sly. "Excuse me?" the boy said in false curiosity. "I don't think I heard that…"
Paul's head jerked up, a wounded, betrayed look on his face. Damn, he thought. He's actually going to make me say it? If the other boy's face was anything to go by, yes, yes he was. Silently, Paul cursed. Just his luck, Fuck.
"If you do me a solid, I'll do you a solid. Isn't that what you always tell the short-times?" Anubis sat back, bemused.
"So," he said. "You really have been paying attention!" Paul sighed, ignoring the insult. He had not been stalking Anubis. He just, happened to be in the same rooms as the anteater a lot lately, that's all.
"Well, if you release me, you'll be doing me a solid, then, I can do you a solid." Paul was reaching for straws, and he knew it.
But, to his utter surprise, the beast-boy got up, reaching into his jacket as he did so, and walked over to Paul, producing a key from a hidden pocket. He sat, knees on either side of his prisoner's narrow hips, sitting on Paul's legs. At said boy's sharp intake of breath, Anubis placed the key against Paul's lips.
"Don't. Panic." Said the death-god. With that, he roughly grabbed the back of Pau's head and jerked it into his shoulder, holding it there until he was sure Paul wouldn't try to pull away. Once he knew Paul would cooperate, he let his hand trail downwards. From head to neck, neck to shoulder, shoulder to back, back to-
Paul rolled his head to one side. "Hey!" he said, annoyed. "I'm pretty sure my hands aren't cuffed there!"
unfortunately, when Paul had rolled his head, he had rolled it into Anubis's neck. Making his words clear, but also causing the breath to move against skin in a slightly distracting manner. Anubis laughed.
"Why, Paul, getting a little flustered, are we?" he teased. The ghost-boy just growled and moved his head back into Anubis's shoulder, the death-god sadly now able to feel the exact location of the lips and nose.. Anubis reached out a little from where his hand had been previously and grabbed the chain connecting the cuffs, yanking on them harder than was probably necessary. This caused the bound boy to gasp, his head jerking up, off of Anubis's shoulder. Anubis moved it forward slightly, so that when Paul's head came back down, it was his neck that landed on the shoulder, not his face. Anubis grinned and got to work on the lock, the hand with the key snaking around the other boy's torso to do so.
They sat like this for a few minutes, Anubis fiddling with the lock. Eventually, Paul spoke, if only to appease his bored curiosity.
"Wouldn't it be easier if you did this from the side?" a faint laugh reached his ears at that.
"Maybe," conceded the death-god, "but it would also be a lot less fun!" he started laughing harder when Paul snorted in disgust. And then, a satisfied "ha!" as the key finally slid into the lock.
Paul felt a hand wrap itself around his jaw, and then his head was yanked back and to the side, until he found himself staring into a pair of annoying black eyes. Anubis's voice came then, low, deadly, threatening. "Remember," he whispered, you owe me a solid."
Paul flashed a savage grin. "If ya need me, you'll know where ta look." He hissed back.
The key turned,
The lock clicked.
The only things in the room were a pair of hand-cuffs and a can of Nozz-A-La, gathering dust on the floor.
This isn't the end, there are a few more chappies coming up! Just don't expect them anytime soon…ok, hope you enjoyed! You know, I rewrote and rewrote this chapter, and it still cam out like this! Oh, well. That's the way the plot bunnies run, I guess.