@prexcher-mxn
The couple that lives in that house that smelled like the old country and buzzed with barely suppressed magic were kind. He'd over done it moving from one fight to the next until he'd all but collapsed at their door. The wounds wouldn't kill him but they irritated him and dulled his senses as they healed.
The witch was experienced and unafraid while the priest was standoffish. Every time he entered the room he would shuffle in discomfort, stutter and then leave as if the devil was chasing him. Khaos knew he was no better than the devil with how much death clung to him. So he didn't push his presence on the other. It wasn't until he was fully healed and making arrangements to leave them that he finally could smell the heady scent of anxiety and desire that was dripping off the other man. It had been hiding under the cloying scent of the witches many medicines.
Khaos had looked to the wife and she'd given him a knowing sort of smile that made his heart skip a beat. A good pagan woman through and through who didn't mince words or mind sharing. The priest was a breathtaking creature with striking blue eyes and a voice that brushed along the skin like butterflies. It had been a long time since he wanted someone...wanted to be a part of something.
And he was not at all the type to let an opportunity slip through his fingers. So when she left to help birth a pup one town over he took his chance. Catching the other man alone he kneeled down next to the chair he sat in and reached out to drag thumb over his lips.
"Speak holy man...closed mouths don't get fed and desire doesn't just fizzle out." Khaos said voice low and rough as his hand moved to trace the cross at the priest's neck. "Doesn't your God reward his most devote for their loyalty? Let me be your reward."