Seeking Hold

Ronald trudged along the sidewalk, rain streaming down his face, mingled with warm tears. The young reaper lifted his arm and rubbed his face with his sleeve, trying to deny what had happened not more than an hour ago. "Damn this rain," he spat, cursing again as his spectacles continued to fog, blinding him.

A frustrated shudder passed through the two-toned blond and he reached for the walls to his left. To his surprise, his hand was pressed against a wooden door instead of a concrete wall. He twitched, and then ran his hand frantically over the area until he found a copper handle and pulled the door open, stumbling inside.

Almost instantly, the reaper's glasses cleared of the white fog that had bothered him. /I suppose that's better,/ he thought, hugging his body as the door closed, sending a brief chill through the room. Knox peered around the room, first noticing the shelves stocked with eerie jars, their contents hidden by the tint of the container, or simply too odd to identify. He tore his golden-green eyes from the shelves and looked down as he wandered further into the shop. He nearly tripped on a coffin that lay on the ground, a book and a few candles lying on top of it. /Odd…/

Carefully, he walked around the coffin and found himself standing before a desk, the skull of some human long gone resting on the wooden top as a twisted decoration. On the other end of the desk, there was a small pile of paperwork kept in folders sorted by letters, as well as an inkwell and pens

Nearby the shelves, he could make out a bookcase, custom made, and a anatomical doll built to perfect scale of the human species.

Slightly disturbed, Ronald turned away from the corner of whatever shop he was in, just as an eerie set of footsteps sounded from the stairs on the far side of the shop, past the fireplace, kitchen, table, and chairs.

Thud.

Thud.

Thud…

Ronald froze as if he were suddenly immobilized by unseen restraints. The chill in the air that had come from outside seemed to seep back into him, even though in reality no wind or rain could reach him in this strange shop, smelling of death and ashes, wood and formaldehyde.

"Heeellooo, there! Have you come to my shop in need of a custom made coffin just for you? Or perhaps to arrange a funeral…?" Inquired a high pitched voice, somewhat husky, and definitely masculine despite the high octave.

Ronald shivered and looked into the gloom, seeing the man – just barely – as the shopkeeper swayed towards him. The man was tall, much taller than Grell-senpai and quite a few others he knew. Ronald took a step backwards instinctively, but tripped and began to fall for the ash laden wooden floorboards.

The male rushed towards him and caught the blond reaper against his chest, having moved at inhuman speeds to react. Ronald grumbled, embarrassed for his stumbling, and trying to get his bearings. His noises stopped as the man pushed Ron to his feet and steadied him, before going over to the fireplace and lighting it.

"Ahhh… so you are indeed what I thought I smelled; a grim reaper by the name of Ronald Knox," the figure by the fire paused, blowing out the match stick and giggling. "I'm sure you know who I am, now don't you, Ronnie?"

The young reaper breathed in and studied the male reaper, which he'd identified as a fellow reaper by the scent that clung to them both: Death. "Yes. I do know now… You are Undertaker, one of the first legendary hundred Shinigami. Also a legend in your skills and how you serve as a Death God." For whatever reason, the elder reaper thought this hilarious, and burst into a fit of laughter, slumping against the desk for support. After Undertaker had compressed his laughter to occasional giggling, Ronald gave him a good look.

Undertaker wore long, black, shapeless robes that seemed to hide his body within it. Two white-beaded necklaces hung around his neck, accompanied by a grey sash that was wrapped around him loosely and tied at the hip. Around the waist of the legend, a silver chain adorned with eight or nine visible lockets was worn, polished and obviously quite a precious piece of jewelry to the male.

Long silvery white hair covered much of his face and spilled down his back and shoulders, so long that it easily reached his waist; a single braid of could be made out on Undertaker's right portion of hair and was tied up with an odd little pink bow.

The silverette's skin, marred with scars from the past, was as pale as skin could get – a ghostly ashen color that not even the dead could hold. Nails longer than even Grell's seemed to be black claws that extended from his fingers, adding an even scarier image to the Shinigami before him.

Blinking, the blond reaper nodded and headed towards the small table and chairs that Undertaker pointed to.

"Tea, Mister Knox?" Offered the silverette, giggling.

"Yes, thank you…"

A few tears leaked from the younger's golden green eyes, trailing across his face. Nay, he had no reason to fear Undertaker as of yet, but he cried for what happened earlier anyway. Brushing away tears from his face again, he looked up at Undertaker, who was pouring tea into each of the two cups. He remembered Grell-senpai saying that Undertaker often was a source of comfort and information, and Ronald needed just that tonight.

"Undertaker?"

"Yes~, Knox?" Undertaker gave Ronald a cup of tea, sitting down across from the younger.

"I… I need your help."

"Help, eh? Well… I have a price – give me laughter of the finest sorts! Heehee…"

Ronald blinked. "Could I bestow something else to your liking, Undertaker?"

The silver haired reaper across from him slumped forwards, giggling manically. The morticians long black nails scratched at the table as if trying to grasp something that would never be there. Suddenly, he pushed himself upright and gave a smile to the young reaper, a bit of drool trailing from his lips. "Something else, Ronnie? Heehee~!" The silver reaper paused, his voice dropping to a husky, low tone meant for soothing. "Perhaps a kiss to push away those tears…"

"Eh?" The young Death God looked at Undertaker, wondering if he was at all serious. By the tone of the legend, he figured that Undertaker indeed was. Swallowing awkwardly, he got to his feet and walked over to his elder, and leaned in.

Ronald pressed his lips against the older reaper's, somehow expecting them to be as cold as the dead Undertaker worked with. Instead they were warm. Inviting, even. Trembling slightly, Knox pressed his lips harder against Undertaker's mouth, shyly deepening the kiss.

Why am I doing this?

What reason do you have not to – after all, both Grell and William have betrayed you…a voice in his mind shot back.

A hand cupped Ronald's face and another pulled at his lower back, bringing him onto the legend's lap. The older Shinigami broke the kiss with a soft giggle and pulled his arms around Ronald.

"So tell me, Mr Knox, what has gone so wrongly that you have fallen to tears?"

The two-toned blond clenched his teeth at the question, but after a while he spoke to the mortician. "I found out that William and Grell where in a relationship, and because of it, both had been stringing me on. That is, until I found them in William's office, having sex after hours," the young male murmured, his face buried in Undertaker's sash.

Long nailed fingers stroked his blond and black hair in a soothing manner as tears began to pour. "Now, now, Mr Knox. I see the situation is terrible - simply horrid - but you must not dwell on it for eternity. I do understand your position though, and you may grieve for as long as needed."The silverette paused, hugging the smaller male to him and bringing up his chin so that Ronald stared directly at Undertaker's face, though the eyes where hidden. Undertaker pressed his lips to Ronald's cheek in a chaste kiss, and again assumed meeting the younger's gaze through shielding bangs. "But I do plan to help you get over your grief as quickly and as healthily as possible," Undertaker cooed.

Silently, Ronald Knox nodded and put his arms around Undertaker, somehow comforted by the tall rogue Shinigami. The mortician didn't seem to mind, however he did pick Ronald up bridal style and carry him off to an old room, placing him on the bed and tucking him in. Ronald murmured a quick "Good night," and rolled over under the blankets as Athena let sleep fall upon the young man.