The next day, they got started on the process of Ira permanently moving into Silas' mansion. The evening before had been spent out on the terrace with some very nice hot chocolate and peaceful music in the background. Silas had been drinking some kind of alcohol, but that just made Ira feel like he needed to pee, so he didn't drink that stuff often.

They had fallen asleep next to each other on the same bed and Ira had enjoyed being able to cuddle Silas until he fell asleep. So when he woke up the next morning, he was in a very good mood and didn't waste any time at all to bring up the moving project with Silas. Silas, proving that he was extremely good at getting things done, quickly contacted some people that Ira didn't care to pay attention to and got all the paperwork and the moving process started.

Silas was very excited about this. He asked Ira if there was something that he wanted to change about the mansion; if he wanted to redecorate or something. Mostly, Ira really wanted a real gaming computer that could withstand actual games — he wanted to play shooting games on it. That was pretty much all he wanted to change. The mansion had everything else he needed; like the pool, and an actual in-house movie theater, though it wasn't all that big. A huge living room with a nice big TV; the bed so fantabulous it was perfect. So all he really wanted was games where he could shoot stuff and kill things, and everything would be perfectly splendid.

While it might take some time for all the paperwork to go through (and it was very strange that for once Ira was actually thinking about the smaller details of human lives that he usually just pretend didn't exist), they decided that it would do no harm to start moving right away. So, after a lunch which was incredibly nice (the chef Silas had hired was very good at their job), they went over to Ira's apartment. There were a bunch of moving boxes piled up outside of his front door that Darcy's underlings had apparently delivered.

The last time that Ira had moved in with Silas, he hadn't actually done any of the packing or whatnot himself. Silas and his minions had done all that for him. Honestly, he couldn't remember the last time he had properly packed up all his stuff and moved. He'd lived in the same place for so incredibly long, that he couldn't even remember what his place before that looked like. He was fairly certain that he had erased that data for some reason. It was probably too intertwined with his relationship with his early Hosts, and he had deleted it to feel better.

Whatever, the point was that he couldn't remember actually moving. On the one hand, it could be kind of like a novelty and fun experience; to move on his own and actually be an active participant in the action. On the other hand, it could be super boring and he had so many better ways to spend his time. Like watching movies and his Host make a fool of herself. Moving on its own wasn't very interesting — it mostly just took up a lot of time as you dissembled stuff only to then reassemble them at another place. It was lots and lots of assembling.

"I'll get started in the kitchen," said Silas.

Ira blinked after him, watching him go. Two of the servants from the mansion had followed with them to the apartment and started cleaning out the bedroom. Meanwhile, Ira wandered into the living room and snagged a hold of all of the movies and TV shows that he had gathered while in this body. He grabbed a moving box and pulled it into the living room, putting all the movies into it. All the DVDs and Blu-Rays.

Once he was done with that, he decided that he deserved a break. So he walked over to the kitchen and sat out in search of a snack only to find that it was in complete chaos. The entire kitchen table was covered by cutlery and Silas was in the midst of gently sweeping the plates into silk paper things and then putting them in moving boxes. Honestly, Ira thought he was being excessively careful. It wasn't like he actually gave a shit about the cutlery.

"Hungry?" Darcy asked when he caught sight of Ira. He moved to free up one of the kitchen chairs and pulled it out so that Ira could sit down on it.

"Thank you," said Ira. He sat down and scooted the chair closer to the table. Then he crossed his arms and rested them on the table, letting his head lay on them and contently watching Silas flit around the kitchen. It seemed like the man had pulled everything out of the cabinets and had piled all of it on every available surface in the small, narrow kitchen. Right now, Darcy was in the middle of putting everything into the moving boxes.

He didn't seem annoyed that Ira was skirting responsibility and just resting. After all, it was Ira that was moving and logic dictated that he should be the one to pack up and get everything ready. But Silas didn't say a word about it.

Ira didn't know if that made him happy.

It was oddly soothing though, watching Silas move about his kitchen as though he owned it. It made Ira feel like things were familiar.

It made him feel at home.

And, uggh, just having that thought made him want to vomit. It was the kind of gooey and cheesy thought that he would mock in other people and you know what, why not mock it in himself too? It was a stupid thought. Stop having stupid thoughts, Ira!

Alright, so he wasn't very good at mocking himself. That was not his fault, his boss would commandeer some of his manga every time he mocked himself. That was back when the incident had only recently been resolved and he had been fresh off the unpleasant sensations his Hosts had given him. He didn't think his boss would react like that anymore, but he wasn't going to take any chances.

He would just mock his Host instead. What was that woman doing? Surely it would be worth mocking.

Unfocusing on the reality in front of them, Ira zoomed in on his host. This time, sadly, she was not in the middle of shooting a scene and thus he did not get to see a movie set again. Yes, he had been on several sets as an extra during his time in this world, but the filming process of movies was cool. There was no such thing as seing movie sets too many times.

He had even played extras who had died on the scene a few times where he had and he got to pretend to get shot and everything. It had been very cool. Ira was incredibly talented at playing dead.

It seemed like his Host had just arrived at a date. The restaurant was needlessly fancy, and not the cozy kind of fancy, but the extravagant and tacky kind of fancy. Ira disliked it on principle, though he supposed it was possible that their food made up for their lack of taste? He might be able to get Silas to agree to investigate the matter with him.

After all, food was important. Going all out to find places serving the best food was one of Ira's top priorities every time he had a mission.

The date was with some old man with graying hair and a large beard. Ira didn't recognize him, but then again, Ira didn't recognize most people. So that was not exactly a statement that bore any weight.

His Host sat down across from the old man and greeted him politely. Ira could not, and did not care to, decipher the expression she was wearing. The server handed off menus to them shortly after they had sat down and left them alone. During this time nobody had said a word so far. And the small talk when they did finally start to talk to each other gave Ira secondhand embarrassment. He promptly decided that this was not something that he was interested in seeing and stopped watching.

Because he had the ability to do that. If he saw something he did not want to see, he could just not see it. It was an ability he had not been properly grateful for in his youth but now took full advantage of.

Darcy had continued to pack things away while Ira had been preoccupied with far less important things. When Ira blinked himself back into focus, he was somehow faced with an even messier kitchen — though there was less stuff on the surfaces. It was a bit of a riddle how that was possible but it was not something he was going to pursue.

"Do you need help?" asked Ira.

Silas sharply looked up at him. His neck made a cracking noise from the force of the movement. He was staring at Ira with scarily intense eyes, his gaze burning. And then he smiled. It was a smile that Ira could not remember seeing on him before. Soft and gentle and welcoming in the kindness it was essentially emanating. It made something within him stand up and focus.

Silas said, "No." He beamed wider and added, "Thank you for asking."

Ira nodded. He didn't understand why Silas continued to stare at him for a bit after that. It wasn't like Ira was doing anything interesting. But the feeling was not unpleasant, so he decided not to say anything about it.

Darcy finally gathered his wits about him and got back to packing. After spending another ten minutes or so or watching the man flitting about the kitchen and putting things away in two large boxes, Ira finally got bored of that and wandered back into the living room to continue where he had left off. While he had been gone, the minions had been doing his work for him; which was very nice.

This was why people had minions.

Even with multiple minions who seemed to be multiplying every time Ira wasn't looking, it still took over six hours to get everything in the tiny two-room apartment packed and loaded in the moving vans. Surprisingly, Ira actually found the organizing part of the project very calming and genuinely had fun doing it.

Ira and Silas returned to the mansion ahead of the moving vans. It was approaching evening and the weather was a pleasant mix of cool and warm; a very mellow and nice temperature that didn't require any adjusting on his part be able to withstand it. When they returned home, Ira wasn't entirely sure what to do now. It would still be some time until his property arrived, and it would take even more time to unpack and organize everything.

There was a restlessness growing in his bones. He had the urge to move, to do something, to get up and make something happen. But he didn't know what.

Being around Silas somehow made that urge both stronger and weaker at the same time. Silas's presence was coming Ira was familiar enough with that he relaxed just being around the man. But he also really wanted to do something; the urge rose in him to say something. To act on something. But he couldn't name what.

And he didn't know how to silence that voice, that strange need.

At home, he followed Silas into a parlor. Because of course, a mansion like this had to have multiple ones; a single parlor couldn't possibly be enough. He sat down next to Silas on the couch and immediately moved to reclaim his cuddles. At least that, somewhat, made the restless feeling inside him recede.

Silas's body was warm against him.