Man-Eater Part 6/? Petshop of Horrors
Sep. 28th, 2005 12:56 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
yellowhordeIt may very well be a steaming pile of dog shit, but it's done! And now I can finally move on with the rest of the story. About time, too.
Disclaimer: I don't own Pet Shop of Horrors and I make no money from this or any other fanfic I write.
Pairings: Leon x D
Category: Supernatural/Drama
Rating: R
Warning: Shonen Ai/Yaoi. Language, Violence, Lime
Title: Man-Eater
Notes: Sequel to 'Denial' and Story Two in the Arc. This Arc takes place before Volume 9's fourth chapter, 'Dynasty'.
Late afternoon sun slanted through the cheap metal blinds covering Leon's window, cutting slashes of light and dark across his rumpled bed. He squinted against its brilliance and raised his hand to block out the offending glare, the outline of his hand haloed in the red brilliance of the setting sun. Restlessly, he shifted around, maneuvering his body until the sun's glare was no longer directly in his eyes.
Sunsets at this time of year tended to depress him just a little bit, he realized absently, though he wasn't sure why that was exactly. Maybe it was because he wasn't much of a winter person. After all, he'd much rather swim in the ocean than snowboard up in the mountains. Or perhaps it was because winter nights were notoriously long... and lonely.
'Hell,' he thought sourly, 'let's just chalk it up to the fact that I'm sick and be done with it.'
He closed his eyes against the dying light, blocking everything from view and leaving only the reddish-black nothingness of his inner eyelids. His throat wasn't nearly as sore as it had been only a few hours ago and his fever was finally breaking. He didn't know if that was due to his immune system finally kicking it into high gear, that strange incense D had burned earlier, or the chicken soup and herbal tea the shop keeper had all but forced down his throat. Frankly, it didn't matter one way or the other. All he cared about was that he no longer felt like shit and that, friends and neighbors, was a very good thing.
The silence of his apartment was almost deafening and another wave of loneliness welled up within him. The force of it took him by surprise. It tugged at him and he kicked at it furiously, much as a swimmer might kick at a riptide. And like a swimmer fighting the strength of the riptide, he knew that this was one battle he wouldn't be able to win easily.
’How long has it been since I’ve had anyone here with me…’ He wondered, ‘Someone who would care for me, look after me when I’m not feeling well, and bitch and bellyache because I never put the toilet seat down? Besides D, I mean?’
’Too long,’ his mind answered, ‘much too long.’
Ever since his mother had died giving birth to Chris, he had been on his own. Not that he had had any complaints at first. Up until the last year and a half or so he had fully enjoyed the freedom that living the bachelor's life entailed. Or so he had convinced himself. Now he wasn’t so sure.
He worked hard and took his responsibility as a police detective seriously. But he had proven time and time again that he could play just as hard. There had been many nights over the years where he had gone out drinking with some friends only to wake up the next morning with a hangover the size of Texas and some barely remembered woman lying in the bed besides him, her arms flung around him so tight he would just about have a claustrophobic fit.
All of that seemed so superficial to him now, desperate and sad now that he thought about it. No long-lasting relationships had developed from his mad bar-hopping adventures, nothing significant and lasting, just boozy bouts of unmemorable sex that ended in awkward mornings and half-hearted promises to keep in touch… promises neither party even intended to keep.
Leon’s brow furrowed as he counted the months on his fingers and actually ran out of fingers before coming up with any sort of meaningful relationship. Disheartened, he gave up. It wasn't as if anyone was keeping tabs on his love life - or lack thereof. But he knew that wasn't exactly true. Cops put their lives in each others hands all the time. That level of trust made for some very close friendships and most men and women on the force tended to mind each others business, whether they wanted to or not. After all, you wouldn't want to be caught off guard on the job because your partner’s mind was on his marital or relationship problems.
It all boiled down to this: cops paid attention and kept their ears to the grape vine. If someone was having problems his friends and coworkers would eventually find out. There had been many cracks, too many in his opinion, down at the station about his ongoing dry spell and much as he’d like to, he couldn’t deny it. He’d been alone for so long that it had become something familiar, almost comforting, like a favorite jacket. Naturally, he had missed the steady sex, but as time wore on he realized that it wasn’t only the sex he missed, but the little things like having someone to come home to instead of just a dirty, empty apartment and a few dying houseplants.
Most of that had changed when D had entered his life - haughty, arrogant D with his obsessive sweet-tooth and that secret little smirk that drove Leon absolutely crazy. He was an enigma that begged to be solved. They had known each other for almost two years and he still didn’t know the first thing about him, not even his real name. He never knew what the man was thinking and half the time he didn’t think he wanted to know what was going on behind that polite mask and bewitching eyes.
“Inhuman eyes,” Leon amended aloud, “Purple and gold, beautiful, exotic. Sometimes they’re a bit unnerving, almost alien.”
Wearily, he pinched the bridge of his nose and slowly inhaled through his nose, held it to the mental count of four, and then released it, counting backwards from eight to one. He concentrated solely on his breathing, on the rise and fall of his chest, the feel of the air as it fed oxygen to his body as it had been doing all his life without any help from him. Then, when his mind was as calm as it was ever likely to get, he turned his attention away from his physical self and back to his surroundings.
With all of the windows closed against the season's chill, the room was remarkably quiet. He strained his ears but could hear little besides his own slow breathing. No rushing traffic, no bird song, no barking dogs. Very faintly, he could hear D humming to himself in the kitchen as he washed the dishes he had used to make the chicken broth and herbal tea they had shared a short while ago. Other than that the apartment was completely still.
A small smile tilted his lips as he imagined D in his kitchen, black hair wrapped in that white kerchief he always wore when cleaning, his ridiculously formal clothes protected from all manner of spills and mishaps by an old fashioned apron. And even though he cleaned house like a maniac, somehow there was never so much as the smallest blotch or spot of dirt on either his clothes or his apron.
He knew he wasn’t very good at housekeeping, accepted the fact, and heartily embraced his inner slob. Even so, lately, he’d been doing a lot better in the cleaning department, if for no other reason than to keep D off his back. But even as he tried to keep his place at least a little closer to D’s prickly standards of cleanliness, he often found himself slipping back into his old, slovenly ways. He had a demanding job, after all, and when he came home from a long day at work he had enough on his mind without having to remember to hang his jacket up in the closet instead of throwing it over the back of the couch like he normally did.
Often he wondered why D, who was such a neat freak, hadn’t run away in horror upon seeing his apartment that first time. He could just imagine the look of absolute loathing that must’ve been on the Count’s face. He chuckled at the thought and had to admit that he took an almost criminally sadistic pleasure at provoking D into losing his carefully maintained composure.
Involuntarily, his mind flashed back to Christmas Eve… and to that kiss. D standing before him, his cheeks flushed, eyes a touch wide, his narrow chest heaving as if he had just run a marathon. He had never seen him so vulnerable, so desirable. Just thinking about it sent waves of heat rushing through his body. He tried to blame it on his fever, but it didn’t wash. As much as he wanted to deny it, he was attracted to the other man. He repeated this thought, wrapped his mind around it and found that it didn’t scare him as much as he thought it would.
He opened his mouth spoke those words aloud, his voice the barest puff of a whisper, “I’m… attracted to D,” then promptly flushed at this near silent confession.
Leon’s eyes cracked open when he caught the faintest rustle of footsteps outside his bedroom door. For many long moments there was silence then a soft knock against the partially opened door pulled him from his reverie. He was surprised by yet another rush of warmth coursing through his body when D's voice, pitched low, drifted to his ears. This time it was much stronger, and the delicious tightening of his loins left no doubt as to what he was feeling. It was desire, strong, desperate, and completely undeniable.
Damn.
"Detective, are you still awake?"
"Yeah, I'm up," Leon pulled himself into an upright position and dropped his bare legs over the edge of the bed as he frantically rearranged the blankets in the hope that he wouldn’t notice the incriminating bulge that was growing. The bedroom door swung open and D entered the room. Once inside, he nudged the door with one hip - it obediently swung closed with a small sigh of protest.
Leon watched silently as D walked gracefully across the room. He admired his smooth, confident stride, the easy way his arms swung at his sides. Smoothing his robes under him, D sat down next to him. The smaller man reached out and pressed his hand against his forehead, checking for sign of fever.
“How are you feeling, Detective?”
“Better,” Leon admitted begrudgingly.
“Excellent,” D murmured and offered a small, relieved smile.
“I want to thank you, D,” Leon mumbled awkwardly, “for everything.”
D inclined his head and offered that strangely shy smile again, the one he had seen for the first time on Christmas Eve. “Think nothing of it, dear Detective. I only wish to help.”
“Aren’t you afraid you’re going to catch it?”
“Catch what?” D glanced up at him, puzzlement plain in his eyes.
“My cold,” Leon clarified.
Bright laughter bubbled from D’s lips. “Heavens, no, Detective, my immune system is made up of sterner stuff. No need for you to worry on my account.”
“That’s good to hear,” Leon fell silent for a moment then slowly raised his hand towards him. For a moment D thought he was going to touch his face, but at the last moment he hesitated, fingertips an inch from his jaw. For several seconds they stared at each other in silence then he spoke again, his voice low. “Then you won’t mind if I do this…”
Leon touched D’s face just above his jaw the brushed his fingertips up along the curve of his earlobe. The effect was instantaneous. D gasped sharply as a strong electrical current jolted through him, raising the tiny hairs along the surface of his skin.
“D-Detective,” his voice was soft and a little ragged.
Leaning forward, Leon shushed him by pressing his finger against his lips. “I have a name,” he whispered, “and I’d like you to use it, D.”
D fell into uncertain silence and Leon drew his fingers down along his face until he was tracing the softness of his lips with the pad of his forefinger, slowly, almost reverently. Then he slid his hand along the smooth lines of his cheek and cupped his face gently.
Breath catching in his throat at Leon’s touch, D forced his body still, almost afraid to move or speak or react in any way, least he might drive his hand away as he had once before. He waited, eyes wide and unblinking as Leon wove his fingers through his thick hair and stroked his fingers along the nape of his neck, tracing the soft flesh, brushing against the fine hairs that resided there. Leon continued to gently stroke his skin and he gasped quietly as ripples of pleasure moved through him.
Leon felt a little tremor work its way through D’s body. His own body shuddered in response. He searched D’s eyes, studying his reaction. Though he had more than enough experience with women, this was the first time he had tried something like this with a man and he was deep in uncharted territory.
‘Surely it can’t be all that different, can it?’ He wondered. Still, similar or not, he didn’t want to scare him or push him too fast. That wasn’t his intention.
D’s eyes slid closed and his lips were soft and parted. “Oh, Leon,” he breathed.
After a moment his eyes opened again and Leon saw, to his immense relief, no fear, no rejection, only a desire that mirrored his own. D wanted this to happen as much as he did… and yet, he still hesitated. For days he had fantasized about a just such a moment but now that it had arrived, he was frozen. Afraid to cross the distance between them, he could only stare helplessly into the depths of D’s eyes and mentally cursed his own cowardice.
D blinked and sensed Leon’s hesitation. He understood why he might not be able to take that first small step on his own. His cultural upbringing was too strong and this taboo experience still too new. A little nudge would be in order… and if Leon wasn’t able to take the first step on his own then he’d just have to take matters into his own hands.
“Leon… If you will allow me…” D whispered softly. He cupped Leon’s face gently. Blue eyes widened but no effort was made to pull away. Satisfied, D closed the gap between them and pressed his lips gently against Leon’s, the barest brush of flesh. It was a chaste kiss, soft as butterfly wings. But it stirred the coals burning within his body and his desire roared through his veins.
He bit gently at Leon’s lower lip, felt his mouth first soften then open. His tongue darted between now parted lips, touching lightly, tasting, testing. Leon’s breath caught in his throat and a great shudder rippled through his body. D felt the dam of his inhibitions burst open and the tension ease from Leon’s body. Again he kissed him, lightly, making no demands.
A soft growl issued from Leon’s throat and then they were kissing harder, the strength of their mutual desire taking their breath away, washing away all thoughts of control.
Strong hands intertwined themselves into D’s hair and he was being pulled closer to the heat of Leon’s body. It was almost scary how easily he had surrendered himself to Leon's now bold advances. He revealed in this new found passion, yet feared it at the same time for he had never felt this way about another being, and certainly never a human. Still, he allowed rational thought to slip away as he lost himself in the physical sensations - the almost feverous heat of Leon’s bare chest, his rough and calloused hands, so strong yet gentle, as they seemingly touched him everywhere at once. The stubble of Leon’s unshaven jaw scratched lightly against his flesh, a strange feeling, but not wholly unpleasant.
As before on Christmas Eve, the solemn voice of his grandfather whispered through his mind, ‘Be careful that you do not continue down this most forbidden path.’ And just like Icarus from Greek mythology, he willfully chose to ignore his elder’s warning. But then the words were repeated, this time spoken so clearly that D started in surprise, almost certain that he would find his grandfather in the room, glaring his stern warning at his fallen grandson.
Leon pulled back, his face flushed and his hair rumpled, when he felt D stiffen for a moment beneath his touch. He gazed down at the man beneath him, concerned. But D’s eyes were not on him, but rather directed away from him toward the door. He stroked the back of his fingers lightly along D’s jaw.
“Hey,” he whispered, smoothing D’s hair with one hand, “you okay?”
D’s eyes slid back to Leon and he offered up a hesitant smile, then reached up and slowly played his fingers through the strands of golden hair, enjoying their smooth texture.
“Uh, no…I’m fine,” he murmured and pulled Leon down to him for another slow, lingering kiss.
Leon’s hands went to his shoulders and he was being pressed back and down. He offered no resistance as they sank together into the rumpled blankets. Something soft yet strangely unyielding pressed against the small of his back. Reaching back, he grabbed hold and withdrew a small pillow. For a moment he considered tossing it aside, or adding it to the pile at the head of the bed, but Leon took it from his hand before he could do either.
“Sit up of a moment,” he murmured.
D lifted his shoulders. Leon placed the pillow beneath his head then pushed him back gently and smiled down at him before brushing his hands through D’s hair so that it flowed over the white pillow like a river or darkest silk.
“Beautiful.” He breathed and stretched out beside D, propping himself up on one elbow so that he could look down at him, then he helped himself to another taste of D’s lips.
Tiny thrills shuddered through D’s body and his control slipped another notch. Both his grandfather and father would be appalled if they knew what he was doing, but at the moment he couldn’t bring himself to care. Having crossed over into a realm of pure touch, pure sensation, he was freefalling and helpless to stop himself. Leon’s touch, his kisses, burned through his body like a highly addictive drug. And he wanted…no, needed… more.
Like Icarus, D found himself soaring higher and higher into a forbidden realm, his heart wild with joy, his mind dizzy with the prospects of surrendering to such an all consuming hunger. Trapped between his desire for a mere mortal and his loyalty to his people, he stood on a precipice between Heaven and Hell knowing that no matter what decision he made, he would fall, possibly to his very death. He had to choose one of the other… or lose both.
“Now you’re definitely going to catch it, D,” Leon murmured, breaking away from D, his chest heaved as he gasped for breath. His tone was apologetic.
"I think that's a risk I'm willing to take,” D replied with a deceptively lazy smile and drew the other man down to him.
There was less urgency in their kiss this time, each of them certain of the other and their intentions. Small sounds of pleasure escaped from D’s mouth as Leon kissed his way down his smooth, white throat, his hands working clumsily at the frog closures that adorned the front of his chiao-fu. Beads of perspiration dotted his body as a blazing fire scorched through his body, burning everything it its path – all thoughts of duty, family loyalty, everything fell away. Until all that was left was nothing left but lust, desire… and love. His mind rebelled momentarily at this, but he shushed it. Yes, love. He loved Leon, having realized it before, he accepted it now.
“How in hell do you work these things?” Leon muttered, eyeing the strange fastenings with frustration.
“I can help you if you’d like,” D offered quietly.
Leon waved his hands away with an impatient gesture, “I can do it, D,” he growled then more softly, “I want to do it.”
“Fair enough,” D settled back and waited as Leon muttered and cursed, hoping that the detective could get them unfastened without causing too much damage to the expensive garment.
After many strangled oaths, Leon finally managed to work the small closures free. “Finally,” he sighed as the last one came undone. He separated the edges of the robe with both hands, pushed it back over D’s shoulders, and flattened his palms against his pale chest. D’s heart raced beneath his touch.
With a series of quick little kisses, Leon moved his way down the slender column of D’s throat to his chest then lower to the smooth expanse of his stomach. He marveled at how smooth and pale the skin was and took exquisite delight in drawing up small amounts of color as he feasted on his skin, kissing, licking, nipping, devouring every inch with the desperation of a starved man. He had always assumed that D powdered his face in order to achieve such ghostly whiteness, but now, neither tasting nor smelling any trace of make-up or powder, he knew without a doubt that the color was natural and that the rest of him would be just as pale.
D moaned and writhed helplessly beneath him, shifting his body restlessly as he licked at first one nipple then the other before taking one into his mouth. A choked sob of pleasure from D urged him to continue. With deliberate care he scraped his teeth lightly along the little nub of flesh then suckled greedily. He could barely his smile as he drew one desperate whimper after another from the man in his arms.
Never had he felt so aroused. No woman had ever made him feel quite like this before. His rational mind shut down leaving only the most basic animal instincts. He no longer heard the protests, accusations and fears that had caused his earlier hesitation. The heaviness of his erection made thinking clearly next to impossible. Here, with D in his arms, it felt so right, so perfect. How could it be wrong? How could society denounce such a thing? And how could he deny himself having finally tasted a piece of Paradise?
The answer was simple: He couldn’t. Nor did he even want to try. He’d feel guilty later, hell, he knew that, but it didn’t matter now. His hands glided along the slight ripples of D’s abdomen, tickling, teasing. He swirled his fingers around his navel, and grinned as the muscles beneath the smooth expanse of D’s skin practically quivered in response as he dragged his fingers even lower.
“I want you,” Leon whispered hoarsely against the corner of D’s mouth.
His mouth swept down onto D’s, hard, crushing. He met no resistance, no fear. D yielded to him, melted into him, wrapping his arms around his shoulders and welcomed him. Briefly, he toyed with the waistband of the slacks D always wore beneath his chiao-fu, then after a moment’s hesitation, slid effortlessly beneath the fabric and along the warmth of his flesh, plunging deeper until he was cupping D’s most intimate flesh.
With a smothered exclamation, D wretched his mouth away from Leon’s as bright bolts of shock sizzled through his body. As he arched up in surprise, two things happened almost simultaneously. Pleasure mingled with something very close to fear exploded through him as Leon took hold of his body followed almost instantaneously by a mental howl of what could only be described as rage. The rage of his ancestors which flashed through his mind like the roaring of a thousand demons, a rage with a bitter undertone of great sorrow and even greater despair. His body twisted, writhed, eyes impossibly wide, back arching like a trout leaping from the water, momentarily trapped in the crosscurrent of the very conflicting emotions.
‘I’m sorry,’ D’s mind cried over and over again in the light of such anguish, ‘I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.’
Frantically, he pressed restraining hands against Leon’s chest, giving voice to a wordless cry as tears prickled the back of his eyes. His grandfather’s ghostly warning echoed through the dark chambers of his mind, cold and forbidding. It allowed him no peace and as if for the first time, D realized that what he had been doing was wrong. Hadn’t he been warned all of his long life that humans couldn’t be trusted? That they were dangerous and deceitful? That they were the enemy and must be destroyed? And yet, here he was, engaging in one of the most forbidden acts imaginable with the very creature he had been warned to stay away from.
When Leon pulled away from him, his face reflecting his own confusion, D scrambled up to a sitting position then forced himself to stand on legs that felt as weak as water. As he struggled to regain control of his senses his frantic breaths gradually became trembling gasps then slowed even more until he was drawing in deep, shuddering breaths. With stiff, jerky movements he adjusts his chiao-fu then fastened the frog closures with fingers that refused to stop trembling. He felt Leon’s eyes on him like a physical weight but couldn’t bring himself to turn around to face him.
The mattress shifted and he heard Leon’s bare feet as he took a few hesitant steps toward him. Then his hand was on his shoulder, his grip firm, yet gentle at the same time. D stiffened and bowed his head, but did not turn towards him or even acknowledge that the other man was there.
“D, what’s wrong?”
“I have to go,” These words, spoken in a whispered rush, betrayed his sudden desperation.
Leon opened his mouth then shut it again having no idea what he should say. D’s sudden violent reaction had scared him and left him horribly confused. How could anyone run so hot then cold in such a short span of time? One minute they were going at it like a couple of horny teenagers in the backseat of an automobile and then suddenly, for no apparent reason that he could discern, D was running away from him.
It was obvious that D was afraid, but what exactly was he afraid of? Intimacy? The idea of actually having sex with another man? He wasn’t sure and that was the problem.
Leon suffered from many of these fears himself, though he didn’t show it as openly as D might. His entire life he had known that men weren’t supposed to fall in love with other men. It was disgusting. It was unnatural, immoral, and wrong. Yet, despite everything he had heard, everything he had been taught about love and sex from the school play ground up the men’s locker room at the precinct had suddenly lost all meaning. He had fallen in love with a man, with D, or at least lusted after him. And it didn’t feel wrong and it didn’t feel like a sin no matter what others might believe.
But knowing a thing wasn’t quite the same as accepting a thing. There was still his social conscious to contend with and the ever present guilt it inflicted upon him for deviating from what was considered the norm. He still had to deal with his own doubts and insecurities as well as those of other people, whether they were friends, family and co-workers or complete strangers he met on the street. He prided himself of a man who didn’t make a practice of running from his fears. He would take them all on, one at a time or all at once, it made no difference to him. He’d conquer them once and for all. That was simply the kind of man he was.
It had just never occurred to him that D would be any different.
“What’s wrong, D?” Leon repeated. “Whatever it is, I’ll understand. Just tell me. Please.”
D cleared his throat, his face working. "This is... I just...”
Leon had never heard D sound so lost. His voice was whisper soft and tight as if he were holding back tears. He inhaled deeply then released a shuddering breath.
"I can't," he finished simply as if that explained everything.
“Can’t what?” Leon demanded.
’I can’t allow myself to love you,’ D thought bleakly.
With stiff, jerky movements he moved toward the bedroom door, back rigid, shoulders back. Unshed tears burned his eyes.
“I must get back to the shop,” he offered as way of explanation, not daring to turn and face the man he had just recently shared the most intimate moments of his life with. “Chris and the others will be hungry.”
His hand was on the doorknob when Leon finally found his voice and called out to him.
“What are you afraid of, D?”
For a moment D hesitated, torn between the desire to stay and the need to go. It would be so easy to leave the apartment without so much as a word of explanation, but Leon deserved the truth… or as much of the truth D felt he could handle.
"Falling."
The one word, whispered so softly, hung in the silence of the bedroom.
"I'd always be there to catch you, D. You know that, don't you?”
Turning his head, D cast a lingering glance over his shoulder, forcing himself to meet Leon's eyes. "Will you?" he asked, and his voice was so cool and distant. “How can you be so sure?”
With that he turned the handle and left the room, closing the door gently behind him.
TO BE CONTINUED…
A/N: Yeah, I know, that kind of sucked. I’ve been told that I tend to write a bit purple prosy. And they’re right, I do. Plus, I think I may have taken both Leon and D a little out of character. But the chapter is (finally) done and I can now start working on the next one. I can always go back and re-edit at a later date.
As always, constructive criticism is always welcomed.
Disclaimer: I don't own Pet Shop of Horrors and I make no money from this or any other fanfic I write.
Pairings: Leon x D
Category: Supernatural/Drama
Rating: R
Warning: Shonen Ai/Yaoi. Language, Violence, Lime
Title: Man-Eater
Notes: Sequel to 'Denial' and Story Two in the Arc. This Arc takes place before Volume 9's fourth chapter, 'Dynasty'.
Late afternoon sun slanted through the cheap metal blinds covering Leon's window, cutting slashes of light and dark across his rumpled bed. He squinted against its brilliance and raised his hand to block out the offending glare, the outline of his hand haloed in the red brilliance of the setting sun. Restlessly, he shifted around, maneuvering his body until the sun's glare was no longer directly in his eyes.
Sunsets at this time of year tended to depress him just a little bit, he realized absently, though he wasn't sure why that was exactly. Maybe it was because he wasn't much of a winter person. After all, he'd much rather swim in the ocean than snowboard up in the mountains. Or perhaps it was because winter nights were notoriously long... and lonely.
'Hell,' he thought sourly, 'let's just chalk it up to the fact that I'm sick and be done with it.'
He closed his eyes against the dying light, blocking everything from view and leaving only the reddish-black nothingness of his inner eyelids. His throat wasn't nearly as sore as it had been only a few hours ago and his fever was finally breaking. He didn't know if that was due to his immune system finally kicking it into high gear, that strange incense D had burned earlier, or the chicken soup and herbal tea the shop keeper had all but forced down his throat. Frankly, it didn't matter one way or the other. All he cared about was that he no longer felt like shit and that, friends and neighbors, was a very good thing.
The silence of his apartment was almost deafening and another wave of loneliness welled up within him. The force of it took him by surprise. It tugged at him and he kicked at it furiously, much as a swimmer might kick at a riptide. And like a swimmer fighting the strength of the riptide, he knew that this was one battle he wouldn't be able to win easily.
’How long has it been since I’ve had anyone here with me…’ He wondered, ‘Someone who would care for me, look after me when I’m not feeling well, and bitch and bellyache because I never put the toilet seat down? Besides D, I mean?’
’Too long,’ his mind answered, ‘much too long.’
Ever since his mother had died giving birth to Chris, he had been on his own. Not that he had had any complaints at first. Up until the last year and a half or so he had fully enjoyed the freedom that living the bachelor's life entailed. Or so he had convinced himself. Now he wasn’t so sure.
He worked hard and took his responsibility as a police detective seriously. But he had proven time and time again that he could play just as hard. There had been many nights over the years where he had gone out drinking with some friends only to wake up the next morning with a hangover the size of Texas and some barely remembered woman lying in the bed besides him, her arms flung around him so tight he would just about have a claustrophobic fit.
All of that seemed so superficial to him now, desperate and sad now that he thought about it. No long-lasting relationships had developed from his mad bar-hopping adventures, nothing significant and lasting, just boozy bouts of unmemorable sex that ended in awkward mornings and half-hearted promises to keep in touch… promises neither party even intended to keep.
Leon’s brow furrowed as he counted the months on his fingers and actually ran out of fingers before coming up with any sort of meaningful relationship. Disheartened, he gave up. It wasn't as if anyone was keeping tabs on his love life - or lack thereof. But he knew that wasn't exactly true. Cops put their lives in each others hands all the time. That level of trust made for some very close friendships and most men and women on the force tended to mind each others business, whether they wanted to or not. After all, you wouldn't want to be caught off guard on the job because your partner’s mind was on his marital or relationship problems.
It all boiled down to this: cops paid attention and kept their ears to the grape vine. If someone was having problems his friends and coworkers would eventually find out. There had been many cracks, too many in his opinion, down at the station about his ongoing dry spell and much as he’d like to, he couldn’t deny it. He’d been alone for so long that it had become something familiar, almost comforting, like a favorite jacket. Naturally, he had missed the steady sex, but as time wore on he realized that it wasn’t only the sex he missed, but the little things like having someone to come home to instead of just a dirty, empty apartment and a few dying houseplants.
Most of that had changed when D had entered his life - haughty, arrogant D with his obsessive sweet-tooth and that secret little smirk that drove Leon absolutely crazy. He was an enigma that begged to be solved. They had known each other for almost two years and he still didn’t know the first thing about him, not even his real name. He never knew what the man was thinking and half the time he didn’t think he wanted to know what was going on behind that polite mask and bewitching eyes.
“Inhuman eyes,” Leon amended aloud, “Purple and gold, beautiful, exotic. Sometimes they’re a bit unnerving, almost alien.”
Wearily, he pinched the bridge of his nose and slowly inhaled through his nose, held it to the mental count of four, and then released it, counting backwards from eight to one. He concentrated solely on his breathing, on the rise and fall of his chest, the feel of the air as it fed oxygen to his body as it had been doing all his life without any help from him. Then, when his mind was as calm as it was ever likely to get, he turned his attention away from his physical self and back to his surroundings.
With all of the windows closed against the season's chill, the room was remarkably quiet. He strained his ears but could hear little besides his own slow breathing. No rushing traffic, no bird song, no barking dogs. Very faintly, he could hear D humming to himself in the kitchen as he washed the dishes he had used to make the chicken broth and herbal tea they had shared a short while ago. Other than that the apartment was completely still.
A small smile tilted his lips as he imagined D in his kitchen, black hair wrapped in that white kerchief he always wore when cleaning, his ridiculously formal clothes protected from all manner of spills and mishaps by an old fashioned apron. And even though he cleaned house like a maniac, somehow there was never so much as the smallest blotch or spot of dirt on either his clothes or his apron.
He knew he wasn’t very good at housekeeping, accepted the fact, and heartily embraced his inner slob. Even so, lately, he’d been doing a lot better in the cleaning department, if for no other reason than to keep D off his back. But even as he tried to keep his place at least a little closer to D’s prickly standards of cleanliness, he often found himself slipping back into his old, slovenly ways. He had a demanding job, after all, and when he came home from a long day at work he had enough on his mind without having to remember to hang his jacket up in the closet instead of throwing it over the back of the couch like he normally did.
Often he wondered why D, who was such a neat freak, hadn’t run away in horror upon seeing his apartment that first time. He could just imagine the look of absolute loathing that must’ve been on the Count’s face. He chuckled at the thought and had to admit that he took an almost criminally sadistic pleasure at provoking D into losing his carefully maintained composure.
Involuntarily, his mind flashed back to Christmas Eve… and to that kiss. D standing before him, his cheeks flushed, eyes a touch wide, his narrow chest heaving as if he had just run a marathon. He had never seen him so vulnerable, so desirable. Just thinking about it sent waves of heat rushing through his body. He tried to blame it on his fever, but it didn’t wash. As much as he wanted to deny it, he was attracted to the other man. He repeated this thought, wrapped his mind around it and found that it didn’t scare him as much as he thought it would.
He opened his mouth spoke those words aloud, his voice the barest puff of a whisper, “I’m… attracted to D,” then promptly flushed at this near silent confession.
Leon’s eyes cracked open when he caught the faintest rustle of footsteps outside his bedroom door. For many long moments there was silence then a soft knock against the partially opened door pulled him from his reverie. He was surprised by yet another rush of warmth coursing through his body when D's voice, pitched low, drifted to his ears. This time it was much stronger, and the delicious tightening of his loins left no doubt as to what he was feeling. It was desire, strong, desperate, and completely undeniable.
Damn.
"Detective, are you still awake?"
"Yeah, I'm up," Leon pulled himself into an upright position and dropped his bare legs over the edge of the bed as he frantically rearranged the blankets in the hope that he wouldn’t notice the incriminating bulge that was growing. The bedroom door swung open and D entered the room. Once inside, he nudged the door with one hip - it obediently swung closed with a small sigh of protest.
Leon watched silently as D walked gracefully across the room. He admired his smooth, confident stride, the easy way his arms swung at his sides. Smoothing his robes under him, D sat down next to him. The smaller man reached out and pressed his hand against his forehead, checking for sign of fever.
“How are you feeling, Detective?”
“Better,” Leon admitted begrudgingly.
“Excellent,” D murmured and offered a small, relieved smile.
“I want to thank you, D,” Leon mumbled awkwardly, “for everything.”
D inclined his head and offered that strangely shy smile again, the one he had seen for the first time on Christmas Eve. “Think nothing of it, dear Detective. I only wish to help.”
“Aren’t you afraid you’re going to catch it?”
“Catch what?” D glanced up at him, puzzlement plain in his eyes.
“My cold,” Leon clarified.
Bright laughter bubbled from D’s lips. “Heavens, no, Detective, my immune system is made up of sterner stuff. No need for you to worry on my account.”
“That’s good to hear,” Leon fell silent for a moment then slowly raised his hand towards him. For a moment D thought he was going to touch his face, but at the last moment he hesitated, fingertips an inch from his jaw. For several seconds they stared at each other in silence then he spoke again, his voice low. “Then you won’t mind if I do this…”
Leon touched D’s face just above his jaw the brushed his fingertips up along the curve of his earlobe. The effect was instantaneous. D gasped sharply as a strong electrical current jolted through him, raising the tiny hairs along the surface of his skin.
“D-Detective,” his voice was soft and a little ragged.
Leaning forward, Leon shushed him by pressing his finger against his lips. “I have a name,” he whispered, “and I’d like you to use it, D.”
D fell into uncertain silence and Leon drew his fingers down along his face until he was tracing the softness of his lips with the pad of his forefinger, slowly, almost reverently. Then he slid his hand along the smooth lines of his cheek and cupped his face gently.
Breath catching in his throat at Leon’s touch, D forced his body still, almost afraid to move or speak or react in any way, least he might drive his hand away as he had once before. He waited, eyes wide and unblinking as Leon wove his fingers through his thick hair and stroked his fingers along the nape of his neck, tracing the soft flesh, brushing against the fine hairs that resided there. Leon continued to gently stroke his skin and he gasped quietly as ripples of pleasure moved through him.
Leon felt a little tremor work its way through D’s body. His own body shuddered in response. He searched D’s eyes, studying his reaction. Though he had more than enough experience with women, this was the first time he had tried something like this with a man and he was deep in uncharted territory.
‘Surely it can’t be all that different, can it?’ He wondered. Still, similar or not, he didn’t want to scare him or push him too fast. That wasn’t his intention.
D’s eyes slid closed and his lips were soft and parted. “Oh, Leon,” he breathed.
After a moment his eyes opened again and Leon saw, to his immense relief, no fear, no rejection, only a desire that mirrored his own. D wanted this to happen as much as he did… and yet, he still hesitated. For days he had fantasized about a just such a moment but now that it had arrived, he was frozen. Afraid to cross the distance between them, he could only stare helplessly into the depths of D’s eyes and mentally cursed his own cowardice.
D blinked and sensed Leon’s hesitation. He understood why he might not be able to take that first small step on his own. His cultural upbringing was too strong and this taboo experience still too new. A little nudge would be in order… and if Leon wasn’t able to take the first step on his own then he’d just have to take matters into his own hands.
“Leon… If you will allow me…” D whispered softly. He cupped Leon’s face gently. Blue eyes widened but no effort was made to pull away. Satisfied, D closed the gap between them and pressed his lips gently against Leon’s, the barest brush of flesh. It was a chaste kiss, soft as butterfly wings. But it stirred the coals burning within his body and his desire roared through his veins.
He bit gently at Leon’s lower lip, felt his mouth first soften then open. His tongue darted between now parted lips, touching lightly, tasting, testing. Leon’s breath caught in his throat and a great shudder rippled through his body. D felt the dam of his inhibitions burst open and the tension ease from Leon’s body. Again he kissed him, lightly, making no demands.
A soft growl issued from Leon’s throat and then they were kissing harder, the strength of their mutual desire taking their breath away, washing away all thoughts of control.
Strong hands intertwined themselves into D’s hair and he was being pulled closer to the heat of Leon’s body. It was almost scary how easily he had surrendered himself to Leon's now bold advances. He revealed in this new found passion, yet feared it at the same time for he had never felt this way about another being, and certainly never a human. Still, he allowed rational thought to slip away as he lost himself in the physical sensations - the almost feverous heat of Leon’s bare chest, his rough and calloused hands, so strong yet gentle, as they seemingly touched him everywhere at once. The stubble of Leon’s unshaven jaw scratched lightly against his flesh, a strange feeling, but not wholly unpleasant.
As before on Christmas Eve, the solemn voice of his grandfather whispered through his mind, ‘Be careful that you do not continue down this most forbidden path.’ And just like Icarus from Greek mythology, he willfully chose to ignore his elder’s warning. But then the words were repeated, this time spoken so clearly that D started in surprise, almost certain that he would find his grandfather in the room, glaring his stern warning at his fallen grandson.
Leon pulled back, his face flushed and his hair rumpled, when he felt D stiffen for a moment beneath his touch. He gazed down at the man beneath him, concerned. But D’s eyes were not on him, but rather directed away from him toward the door. He stroked the back of his fingers lightly along D’s jaw.
“Hey,” he whispered, smoothing D’s hair with one hand, “you okay?”
D’s eyes slid back to Leon and he offered up a hesitant smile, then reached up and slowly played his fingers through the strands of golden hair, enjoying their smooth texture.
“Uh, no…I’m fine,” he murmured and pulled Leon down to him for another slow, lingering kiss.
Leon’s hands went to his shoulders and he was being pressed back and down. He offered no resistance as they sank together into the rumpled blankets. Something soft yet strangely unyielding pressed against the small of his back. Reaching back, he grabbed hold and withdrew a small pillow. For a moment he considered tossing it aside, or adding it to the pile at the head of the bed, but Leon took it from his hand before he could do either.
“Sit up of a moment,” he murmured.
D lifted his shoulders. Leon placed the pillow beneath his head then pushed him back gently and smiled down at him before brushing his hands through D’s hair so that it flowed over the white pillow like a river or darkest silk.
“Beautiful.” He breathed and stretched out beside D, propping himself up on one elbow so that he could look down at him, then he helped himself to another taste of D’s lips.
Tiny thrills shuddered through D’s body and his control slipped another notch. Both his grandfather and father would be appalled if they knew what he was doing, but at the moment he couldn’t bring himself to care. Having crossed over into a realm of pure touch, pure sensation, he was freefalling and helpless to stop himself. Leon’s touch, his kisses, burned through his body like a highly addictive drug. And he wanted…no, needed… more.
Like Icarus, D found himself soaring higher and higher into a forbidden realm, his heart wild with joy, his mind dizzy with the prospects of surrendering to such an all consuming hunger. Trapped between his desire for a mere mortal and his loyalty to his people, he stood on a precipice between Heaven and Hell knowing that no matter what decision he made, he would fall, possibly to his very death. He had to choose one of the other… or lose both.
“Now you’re definitely going to catch it, D,” Leon murmured, breaking away from D, his chest heaved as he gasped for breath. His tone was apologetic.
"I think that's a risk I'm willing to take,” D replied with a deceptively lazy smile and drew the other man down to him.
There was less urgency in their kiss this time, each of them certain of the other and their intentions. Small sounds of pleasure escaped from D’s mouth as Leon kissed his way down his smooth, white throat, his hands working clumsily at the frog closures that adorned the front of his chiao-fu. Beads of perspiration dotted his body as a blazing fire scorched through his body, burning everything it its path – all thoughts of duty, family loyalty, everything fell away. Until all that was left was nothing left but lust, desire… and love. His mind rebelled momentarily at this, but he shushed it. Yes, love. He loved Leon, having realized it before, he accepted it now.
“How in hell do you work these things?” Leon muttered, eyeing the strange fastenings with frustration.
“I can help you if you’d like,” D offered quietly.
Leon waved his hands away with an impatient gesture, “I can do it, D,” he growled then more softly, “I want to do it.”
“Fair enough,” D settled back and waited as Leon muttered and cursed, hoping that the detective could get them unfastened without causing too much damage to the expensive garment.
After many strangled oaths, Leon finally managed to work the small closures free. “Finally,” he sighed as the last one came undone. He separated the edges of the robe with both hands, pushed it back over D’s shoulders, and flattened his palms against his pale chest. D’s heart raced beneath his touch.
With a series of quick little kisses, Leon moved his way down the slender column of D’s throat to his chest then lower to the smooth expanse of his stomach. He marveled at how smooth and pale the skin was and took exquisite delight in drawing up small amounts of color as he feasted on his skin, kissing, licking, nipping, devouring every inch with the desperation of a starved man. He had always assumed that D powdered his face in order to achieve such ghostly whiteness, but now, neither tasting nor smelling any trace of make-up or powder, he knew without a doubt that the color was natural and that the rest of him would be just as pale.
D moaned and writhed helplessly beneath him, shifting his body restlessly as he licked at first one nipple then the other before taking one into his mouth. A choked sob of pleasure from D urged him to continue. With deliberate care he scraped his teeth lightly along the little nub of flesh then suckled greedily. He could barely his smile as he drew one desperate whimper after another from the man in his arms.
Never had he felt so aroused. No woman had ever made him feel quite like this before. His rational mind shut down leaving only the most basic animal instincts. He no longer heard the protests, accusations and fears that had caused his earlier hesitation. The heaviness of his erection made thinking clearly next to impossible. Here, with D in his arms, it felt so right, so perfect. How could it be wrong? How could society denounce such a thing? And how could he deny himself having finally tasted a piece of Paradise?
The answer was simple: He couldn’t. Nor did he even want to try. He’d feel guilty later, hell, he knew that, but it didn’t matter now. His hands glided along the slight ripples of D’s abdomen, tickling, teasing. He swirled his fingers around his navel, and grinned as the muscles beneath the smooth expanse of D’s skin practically quivered in response as he dragged his fingers even lower.
“I want you,” Leon whispered hoarsely against the corner of D’s mouth.
His mouth swept down onto D’s, hard, crushing. He met no resistance, no fear. D yielded to him, melted into him, wrapping his arms around his shoulders and welcomed him. Briefly, he toyed with the waistband of the slacks D always wore beneath his chiao-fu, then after a moment’s hesitation, slid effortlessly beneath the fabric and along the warmth of his flesh, plunging deeper until he was cupping D’s most intimate flesh.
With a smothered exclamation, D wretched his mouth away from Leon’s as bright bolts of shock sizzled through his body. As he arched up in surprise, two things happened almost simultaneously. Pleasure mingled with something very close to fear exploded through him as Leon took hold of his body followed almost instantaneously by a mental howl of what could only be described as rage. The rage of his ancestors which flashed through his mind like the roaring of a thousand demons, a rage with a bitter undertone of great sorrow and even greater despair. His body twisted, writhed, eyes impossibly wide, back arching like a trout leaping from the water, momentarily trapped in the crosscurrent of the very conflicting emotions.
‘I’m sorry,’ D’s mind cried over and over again in the light of such anguish, ‘I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.’
Frantically, he pressed restraining hands against Leon’s chest, giving voice to a wordless cry as tears prickled the back of his eyes. His grandfather’s ghostly warning echoed through the dark chambers of his mind, cold and forbidding. It allowed him no peace and as if for the first time, D realized that what he had been doing was wrong. Hadn’t he been warned all of his long life that humans couldn’t be trusted? That they were dangerous and deceitful? That they were the enemy and must be destroyed? And yet, here he was, engaging in one of the most forbidden acts imaginable with the very creature he had been warned to stay away from.
When Leon pulled away from him, his face reflecting his own confusion, D scrambled up to a sitting position then forced himself to stand on legs that felt as weak as water. As he struggled to regain control of his senses his frantic breaths gradually became trembling gasps then slowed even more until he was drawing in deep, shuddering breaths. With stiff, jerky movements he adjusts his chiao-fu then fastened the frog closures with fingers that refused to stop trembling. He felt Leon’s eyes on him like a physical weight but couldn’t bring himself to turn around to face him.
The mattress shifted and he heard Leon’s bare feet as he took a few hesitant steps toward him. Then his hand was on his shoulder, his grip firm, yet gentle at the same time. D stiffened and bowed his head, but did not turn towards him or even acknowledge that the other man was there.
“D, what’s wrong?”
“I have to go,” These words, spoken in a whispered rush, betrayed his sudden desperation.
Leon opened his mouth then shut it again having no idea what he should say. D’s sudden violent reaction had scared him and left him horribly confused. How could anyone run so hot then cold in such a short span of time? One minute they were going at it like a couple of horny teenagers in the backseat of an automobile and then suddenly, for no apparent reason that he could discern, D was running away from him.
It was obvious that D was afraid, but what exactly was he afraid of? Intimacy? The idea of actually having sex with another man? He wasn’t sure and that was the problem.
Leon suffered from many of these fears himself, though he didn’t show it as openly as D might. His entire life he had known that men weren’t supposed to fall in love with other men. It was disgusting. It was unnatural, immoral, and wrong. Yet, despite everything he had heard, everything he had been taught about love and sex from the school play ground up the men’s locker room at the precinct had suddenly lost all meaning. He had fallen in love with a man, with D, or at least lusted after him. And it didn’t feel wrong and it didn’t feel like a sin no matter what others might believe.
But knowing a thing wasn’t quite the same as accepting a thing. There was still his social conscious to contend with and the ever present guilt it inflicted upon him for deviating from what was considered the norm. He still had to deal with his own doubts and insecurities as well as those of other people, whether they were friends, family and co-workers or complete strangers he met on the street. He prided himself of a man who didn’t make a practice of running from his fears. He would take them all on, one at a time or all at once, it made no difference to him. He’d conquer them once and for all. That was simply the kind of man he was.
It had just never occurred to him that D would be any different.
“What’s wrong, D?” Leon repeated. “Whatever it is, I’ll understand. Just tell me. Please.”
D cleared his throat, his face working. "This is... I just...”
Leon had never heard D sound so lost. His voice was whisper soft and tight as if he were holding back tears. He inhaled deeply then released a shuddering breath.
"I can't," he finished simply as if that explained everything.
“Can’t what?” Leon demanded.
’I can’t allow myself to love you,’ D thought bleakly.
With stiff, jerky movements he moved toward the bedroom door, back rigid, shoulders back. Unshed tears burned his eyes.
“I must get back to the shop,” he offered as way of explanation, not daring to turn and face the man he had just recently shared the most intimate moments of his life with. “Chris and the others will be hungry.”
His hand was on the doorknob when Leon finally found his voice and called out to him.
“What are you afraid of, D?”
For a moment D hesitated, torn between the desire to stay and the need to go. It would be so easy to leave the apartment without so much as a word of explanation, but Leon deserved the truth… or as much of the truth D felt he could handle.
"Falling."
The one word, whispered so softly, hung in the silence of the bedroom.
"I'd always be there to catch you, D. You know that, don't you?”
Turning his head, D cast a lingering glance over his shoulder, forcing himself to meet Leon's eyes. "Will you?" he asked, and his voice was so cool and distant. “How can you be so sure?”
With that he turned the handle and left the room, closing the door gently behind him.
TO BE CONTINUED…
A/N: Yeah, I know, that kind of sucked. I’ve been told that I tend to write a bit purple prosy. And they’re right, I do. Plus, I think I may have taken both Leon and D a little out of character. But the chapter is (finally) done and I can now start working on the next one. I can always go back and re-edit at a later date.
As always, constructive criticism is always welcomed.
