Work Text:
Charles Foster Ofdensen sat at the desk in his spacious bedroom wearing his comfortable robe and relaxed sipping coffee and filling out reports that the band would not read. He enjoyed doing his reports. He wore an easy smile as his fingers danced over the keys. He did not look away as the air in the room grew thicker and spicier with a slight undercurrent of sulphur.
A stack of papers plopped down on the desk by his right hand. On top of the pile was a small plastic card. Charles looked up at his companion then picked up the contract reading through it. His eyes twinkled and his smile grew wider, "come now old friend, you didn't sign. You mean you wouldn't want to trade eighty percent of your soul for a five dollar gift certificate to Hot Topics?"
The Blues Devil snorted softly and folded his lanky body down into a chair facing the Dethklok manager. "I knew when I saw those boys negotiate they were yours."
"Well I did teach them a few things."
"Modest as always, uh," he picked up the name plate on the desk, "Charles? Cute."
"Why thank you, chose it myself. And what are you going by now? Scratch? Splitheels? Old Nick was always my favorite."
"I did enjoy that one myself. Especially, when you spoke it."
"I hope not getting my boys' souls didn't put you too far behind schedule."
"No, Charles, in fact they put me quite ahead. They managed to take out an entire camp of hippies. The whole lot were just rolling in sin, atheism, smoking, promiscuity, why the were even guilty of tax evasion. It was one sweet haul. No wonder you ended up with a desk job. I think I might be jealous."
"They are something aren't they?" The pride in his voice was obvious.
"They must have learned that from you," he replied in low, silky voice.
"Flattery? Why Nick are you coming on to me?"
"When could I ever resist your analytical mind and skillful negotiation."
"I must say I did miss that darkly ironic sense of humour."
"And the trains?"
"No, not the trains."
"I have seriously come to hate trains."
"They make you blue?"
"Oooh, you can go to Hell for making bad puns you know?"
"Anything but that. I have been avoiding a family visit for centuries."
"Perhaps I won't tell, if..."
"If?" Charles asked with a coy expression.
"If you give me something better to think about." The Blues Devil leaned forward red eyes glowing like embers.
"That can probably be negotiated," Charles purred cupping his cheek then pulling their mouths together.