[fic] The Hunted - Chapter 11/? - PSoH
Mar. 24th, 2008 03:19 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
yellowhordeDisclaimer: I don’t own Petshop of Horrors and I make no money from this or any other fanfic I write.
Pairing: Leon x D
Category: Supernatural/Alternate Universe
Rating: R
Warning: Violence, Language, Sexual Situations and Hermaphrodite!D
Title: The Hunted
Author: yellowhorde
Notes: This was written for NaNoWriMo 2007
After Leon left, D picked up the telephone receiver and ordered a lovely breakfast of Belgian waffles, orange double cream, raspberries and sugared pecans to be brought to the Presidential Suite. A short while later, when he answered the door, he came face to face with a tall, athletically built employee with wavy brown hair and stormy blue eyes, pushing a metal cart bearing his covered meal across the carpeted floor. The discreet brass nametag on his lapel announced that his name was Jorge.
“Breakfast is served,” Jorge said smoothly and presented the covered silver tray to D with a flourish and a dimpled smile. It was obvious that this young man took pride in his appearance. The uniform he wore was clean and freshly pressed, his black leather shoes buffed and gleaming. His skin was soft and smooth, the nails neatly clipped and professionally manicured. All in all, he was a very handsome and desirable man.
He laid out a tea set with teapot, sugar bowl, creamer and two cups onto the table then set the serving tray on the table and removed the cover. Fragrant steam billowed into the air carrying with it a tantalizing array of aromas, each more delightful than the other.
“It looks delicious,” D breathed, clasping his hands before him in anticipation. He plucked a sugared pecan from the plate and slid it between his lips, closing his eyes in rapturous delight as he enjoyed the complex tastes and textures on his tongue. With a small moan of pleasure, he opened his eyes and smiled at his server.
“My compliments to the chef,” he murmured.
Pleased at the speed in which his order had been delivered, the artful presentation and the quality, D rose, the very picture of elegance in the simple black robes he had donned that morning. As he handed the young man a generous tip, his fingers brushing lightly against the smooth, tanned flesh of his hand.
A tingling sensation tightened his chest as an unexpected flash of warmth surged though his veins at the unintentional contact, dragging a silent gasp from his lips. So unlike Detective Orcot’s rough and calloused hands, D marveled. Sensory memories of the feelings Leon’s hands could evoke flooded his memory, bringing a slight flush to his face.
As if accustomed to such reactions, and believing that he was the direct cause, Jorge flashed a flirtatious smile. “Enjoy your meal,” he said warmly. “And if you need anything,” here his voice took on a suggestive tone, “Please, don’t hesitate to ask.”
“Thank you,” D assured, “I will.”
With a smile, Jorge gracefully inclined his head in thanks and withdrew, taking his cart with him.
Feeling oddly light headed, D sat down and took a few moments to examine his unaccustomed reaction to the handsome Jorge. The young man was attractive and well turned out, but he had seen many such men during his life but had never experienced such a strong reaction to any of them. Leon Orcot, of course, had been the only exception. Loud, crude and, more often than not, rumpled in tee shirts and jeans, he was the exact opposite of the young man who had just left. And yet there had been an undeniable attraction almost from the very beginning.
D was drawn from his thoughts by a knock on the suite door. Then it was repeated, louder and more insistent. Assuming it must be the Detective returning and knocking because he had either forgotten or lost his room key, he rose and smoothed a hand over his hair before hurrying over to answer the door. But instead of the blond haired, blue eyed detective, D found himself standing face to face with his grandfather.
“Grandfather,” D clasped his hands and bowed his greeting. “What a pleasant surprise.” He straightened, stepped back from the door slightly, and gestured toward the interior of the suite. “I was just about to have breakfast. Would you care to join me?”
“No, thank you,” Tsu Fu said brusquely, “I’ve already eaten. And this is not a social visit, my child.” The cowled man swept into the suite, the black folds of his cloak whispering over the carpeted floor. His eyes moved restlessly as he scanned his surroundings, missing nothing as he walked through the rooms, opening doors then quickly shutting them again.
Tsu Fu strode back to the main living room and stopped in the middle so abruptly D, who trailed behind him uncertainly, almost ran into him. “Where is Detective Orcot?” he demanded.
Under the intense, all-seeing gaze of his grandfather, D lowered his eyes and replied calmly. “He was called away… on an important business matter.”
“An important business matter,” Tsu Fu repeated quietly and D could not bring himself to meet his fierce expression. “If I recall correctly, it was an important business matter that brought him here in the first place.”
The callous words brought a wash of heat to D’s cheeks. “Grandfather, please,” he chided gently, “I assure you, Detective Orcot takes his responsibilities very seriously.”
While D wanted to believe that Leon had taken him into his arms and bed last night because of honest physical desire, he wasn’t foolish enough to think that was the only reason they had become intimate. There was, after all, a contract that bound them together, one which had been drafted when they were but children. The sad truth of the matter was that Leon had likely agreed to bed him simply because he had no real choice in the matter.
“It’s just as well that he isn’t here,” Tsu Fu said, taking a seat at the table. D busied himself pouring tea for his grandfather, adding several heaping teaspoons of sugar into the brew. He set the cup and saucer before the other man and then took his own seat. “What I’ve come to say doesn’t concern him anyway.”
For several moments they sat in silence, sipping their tea, each lost in their own thoughts. It was Tsu Fu who broke the silence. “How are you feeling, child?” he asked, adding another spoonful of sugar to his tea.
“I am fine, Grandfather, thank you,” D replied quietly.
“Good. And your heart,” Tsu Fu pressed, “How is your health holding up? Are you having any problems?”
One hand went to D’s chest and pressed against the black silk as if seeking comfort in the steady pulse it found. “My heart is fine. It has not troubled me for some time,” he replied, uncertain where this line of questioning was going.
Tsu Fu nodded and reached into the folds of his cloak and withdrew a small bottle filled with crimson liquid. He placed it on the table and pushed it toward D, who stared at it, aghast, but made no effort to pick it up.
“This whole necessary ordeal may prove to be very stressful for you,” he said, “I know this. And so to does you’re father. He stopped by the Shop this morning intend on giving you this,” he gestured toward the bottle on the table, “But, of course, you weren’t in.”
“Father is in Los Angeles?”
“Yes, he is,” Tsu Fu answered, though it was plain from the tone of his voice that he was not pleased by the fact. “He’s currently traveling with a Japanese biological researcher by the name of Akira Fujiwara, who is giving lectures at various universities concerning the upcoming release of some experimental new drug treatment for those who suffer from Lycanthrope Disorder.”
“I see.” D wasn’t certain how he should feel about the news of his father’s reappearance. He hadn’t seen the man in twenty years and had never initiated their rare and mercifully brief exchanges over the telephone. His eyes fell on the bottle with its hateful contents, sitting so innocently there on the table… his medicine.
He closed his eyes, remembering the first donor his father had used to create medicine for his imperfect son. She had been identical to him as he was to his father, his grandfather and all their relations stretching back to the annihilation of their people one thousand years ago. The only difference, of course, had been her gender. Though he had been unsettled and suspicious of her at first, he had harbored some small affection for his little sister. Her untimely death had hit him hard, harder than he would have thought possible.
Her blood, the so-called medicine his father had intended for him, had indeed eased his heart troubles, at least for a short while and as long as he did not overexert himself, he was fine. So in that respect, D supposed, the medicine had been successful… but the price – the life of his Xiao Mei, his biologically engineered sister - had been too high.
It pained him to know that his father had created yet another creature whose only purpose was to die so that his son may live. But the proof lay in the bottle on the table in front of him. It hurt even more to know that he could not refuse the offering. Without it his imperfect body would continue to deteriorate and the sad fact of the matter was that he could no longer survive for long without it. He needed it… and despised himself for that very fact.
Reluctantly, D picked up the bottle, hating the way it felt in his hands – warm, almost alive. “Please extend my gratitude to Father. It was very… thoughtful of him.”
“I’m sure you’ll have the opportunity to thank him yourself,” Tsu Fu muttered, then drained the last of his tea. “He’ll be staying in the Los Angeles area for a few weeks. No doubt he may pay you a visit.”
The empty teacup was set aside and D knew that the so-called pleasantries of their visit had come to an end. Now they would talk business.
“As you know,” Tsu Fu began calmly, “It is not uncommon for many female animals to take more than one mate during estrus.”
Numbly, D nodded his head, a sense of apprehension rising. “Yes, Grandfather, I know.”
“You may find that your sexual appetites at this time may be a bit… overwhelming,” Tsu Fu said, “No doubt you may have noticed an unusual attraction, a lust arising within you. Believe me when I say that it is not uncommon for you to feel this way. These feelings will continue for as long as you are in estrus.”
Tsu Fu leaned forward, his expression and body language tense. “If one mate cannot satisfy your needs, then I must insist that you take as many lovers as necessary to insure impregnation.”
Hot color seeped into his cheeks, setting them aflame. D dropped his eyes and stared into the depths of his teacup, uncertain how to respond to what his grandfather had just told him.
“But what about the contract, Grandfather?” D finally managed after a few moments of shocked silence. He raised his head to squarely meet the other man’s cool gaze.
“What of it?” Tsu Fu replied impatiently, “The contract was to assure that you would have a mate when your cycle began. And, as you yourself said, he has preformed his role well. But,” he jabbed the table with one finger as if for emphasis. “Detective Orcot is not here now during what could be the time of your greatest need.”
Tsu Fu leaned back into his chair and made a visible effort to calm himself. He folded his arms and stared at D with indifferent eyes. “And, if I may point out,” He added in a hushed but dangerous voice, “In no part of the contract does it stipulate that you are to be exclusively his.”
D sipped in a quick breath and could only stare at his grandfather, unable to find his voice or even form a coherent response.
“The most important thing is that you bear a child.” Tsu Fu continued in a more normal, conversational tone. “Who the father is doesn’t really matter. Men will find themselves drawn to you at this time. Like cats to catnip, they will not be able to help themselves. Why not enjoy yourself for a time?”
“Besides,” he had added in a chillingly offhanded manner, “having several mates increases the odds that you will conceive.”
Leon’s angry words from that morning cut through D’s mind, still sharp, still hurtful… but with an undeniable kernel of truth. It had been quite a shock earlier to hear his own thoughts coming from the Detective’s mouth. His grandfather was using him… to secure the future of their race, to prevent them from walking down the path that would inevitably lead to extinction. All that mattered was that he produced an heir. Did it truly matter who planted the seed as long as life was created?
“I know what you’re thinking, child,” Tsu Fu’s voice was gentle. “It is in our nature to search out and join with our one true mate for life. But I cannot allow you to make the same mistake that I made… that your father also made – to give yourself heart and soul to but one man, this Leon Orcot.”
D’s brows drew together in puzzlement, “I don’t understand, Grandfather. How could it possibly be a mistake?”
“May I have a bit more tea?” Tsu Fu asked quietly, without answering his question.
“Yes, certainly, Grandfather,” D stood and poured more tea into the other man’s cup and added the requisite sugar. He handed it to his grandfather, who thanked him before taking a sip. Tsu Fu then set the cup down and clasped his hands on the table before him.
For a long time Tsu Fu sat in silence, staring down at his hands, lost in his thoughts… or perhaps his memories.
“When I was young, I chose Li Hua as my mate,” Tsu Fu spoke so softly D had to lean forward to hear him. “It was as much a logical choice as an emotional one. He was young, healthy, and vigorous.” A smile touched Tsu Fu’s lips, but it was mingled with sadness. “There was a connection between us, one neither of us could deny. Some might call it love. And I would not be one to deny it.”
“I knew that our race was dying. I could feel it in my own body. A strange weakness I could not account for. I dined adequately on fresh fruits, vegetables and whole grains. But no matter what I ate, my body could not produce enough energy to sustain me. Quite by accident, I discovered that sugar helped overcome this weakness, at least for short periods of time. Soon I had developed quite the sweet tooth,” Tsu Fu admitted with a smile, “An addiction I’m afraid I have passed on to you and your father.”
D nodded his head in silent agreement. He was more than aware of the effects sugar had on his body – a disconcerting draining of energy that left him weak and trembling -especially when he had not consumed anything sweet for any length of time. It was a dreadful condition that could become quite dangerous if left unattended.
”I knew that whatever weaknesses existed within my body would be passed on to my offspring should I continue to reproduce parthenogenically as we had been doing for centuries. Mating with a partner, I knew, was the preferable means of reproducing since the genetic material of the offspring would be varied. Unfortunately, that wasn’t an option as my race had been wiped out save for a sole survivor. The only way to save my race was to join with the only other compatible species on the planet – our enemies, the humans.”
“And so I took Li Hua as my mate in the hopes of saving our race, our future,” Tsu Fu sighed. “Unfortunately, some unforeseen problems arose. There were no fertility tests available in China then, you see, and by the time we realized something was wrong… it was too late.”
“Grandfather…”
“I could detect none of my physical ailments in your father save for that curious weakness. But as sugar seemed to offer an easy solution to the problem, I did not fret overly much on the matter. He grew and thrived as outwardly healthy as any normal child might but there was something wrong. I could sense it despite the fact that there was nothing physically wrong with him. I could never quite place my finger on the problem. He was certainly intelligent enough and he proved to be a brilliant scholar, but there was something… unstable about him. Here.” Tsu Fu touched a finger to his temple.
“In the end your father fared no better than I,” Tsu Fu picked up the teacup, but did not take a drink. Instead he turned it around in his hands, following the exquisite pattern with his eyes.
“He set his heart on some young man he met at University. Howell, I believe was his family’s name. But your father had made a mistake… his chosen one could not accept what he was and they had a falling out of sorts.” He set the cup down and glanced at D. “Something inside him died that day he fled the University. He was never quite the same again.”
D reached for the half-empty teacup with the intentions of refilling it, if for no other reason than to have something to do with his hands. Tsu Fu captured his hand and enclosed it in both of his own.
“You are our last hope, child.” Tsu Fu whispered hoarsely, “Your mind and desire are strong, but your heart and body are weak.”
D opened his mouth to protest, but his grandfather hushed him. “You were so small, so fragile as an infant. Your father and I were afraid that we would lose you. It is a miracle you have survived as long as you have.”
Tsu Fu released his hands and pulled into the depths of his cowl. “I must admit that I did not trust your father to do right by you, so I took you away from him and raised you myself. Perhaps it was a mistake, but at the time it was the best course of action available to me. Your father never forgave me. I can’t say that I blame him. I couldn’t have been if our positions had been reversed.”
“Hear me. The medicine your father has made for you is not a cure,” Tsu Fu said. “It will not stop the degeneration; it can only slow it down. The heart condition that plagues you will be fatal to any offspring you should pass it on to should you have no choice but to reproduce parthenogenically.”
“If we are to survive, you must produce an heir. Otherwise, all is lost.”
***
D fluttered his fan in quiet agitation as he reclined on one of the blue and white loungers that surrounded the hotel’s heated pool. The wind wound playfully through the trees of the exquisitely landscaped terrace, carrying on its back the scent of lemons, suntan lotion and chlorine. It ruffled his hair, plucked at the black silk of his robes but did little to soothe him.
A man, tall, lean and muscular, wearing miniscule black swimming trunks sauntered past leaving the scent of Coppertone suntan lotion, rich with the scent of coconuts, in his wake. D’s breath caught in his throat. Inexplicably, he longed for the feel of sand beneath his feet, the roar of the sea as it threw itself against the rocks, the salty tang of the air and the cry of seagulls…
Memories of a rare excursion to the beach with the Detective on one of his off-duty days surfaced without warning. Together they had walked the beach while the waves danced along the sand, washing over their feet and wiping away their footsteps. There had been no arguments that day, D remembered, no accusations thrown. The weather had been as calm as their tempers.
On his lounger, D closed his eyes as the triggering scent faded. He rested his head against the cushion and flashed back on more recent sensual memories from the night before. The brush of Leon’s hands against his skin, their bodies entwining, the taste of his kisses, sweeter and more irresistible than any fine chocolate…
In a rush, heat rose within his body, stirring desires he had never known resided within him until last night. The sun had slanted slowly across the sky, its warming rays slipping under the protection of the overhead umbrella to fall upon his upturned face. But it wasn’t the sun’s heat that flushed his skin and brought the sheen of sweat to his brow… or the dampness between his thighs.
Frowning, D sat up, snapping his fan shut with a flick of his wrist. It bothered him that his body was behaving in such an unaccustomed manner. It bothered him even more that such reactions could be brought about simply by thinking of Leon Orcot… and the physical pleasures they had shared the night before.
Reopening his fan with a flourish, D fluttered it in agitation, beating drifts of air into his face. “This is your fault, Grandfather,” he muttered petulantly under his breath as he set his empty glass on the nearby table. And this was true. None of this would be happening if Fate – and his grandfather – had not conspired to push him into Leon’s arms.
Shrill laughter and the splashing of water drew his thoughts away from his inner turmoil and he found his gaze being drawn to a very pregnant woman on the far end of the pool, her full stomach swelling out before her. The purple skirt of her tropical print surplice-cut suit floated lazily about her like the petals of a flower. Though it must have been cumbersome for her to move on land at such a late stage of her pregnancy, she moved with grace and elegance in the chlorinated water of the pool.
Her curly auburn hair was pinned into a loose bun at the nape of her neck and the skin of her shoulders was pink from the sun. She was holding the hands of a young child in red swimming trunks wearing bright yellow floating devices on his arms and a matching floatation vest. The child, a boy of perhaps three years of age, kicked and splashed happily while she held him safe and offered her smiling encouragement.
For several minutes, D watched mother and child as they played in the water. Unconsciously his own hands went to his abdomen, stroking along its smooth tautness. A small tightness formed in his chest as he looked on, but he willed it away with a fierceness that surprised him. There was obvious love and affection between them, something he had never shared with his own father - or his grandfather for that matter. They had never been unkind, but neither had they been especially warm.
When the time came, would he be capable of sharing such feelings with the child he may even now be carrying within his body? Was he even capable of such emotions? Or would he be cold and distant as those who had come before him?
Once more his mind’s eye turned to Leon, gruff, foul-mouthed, irritating Leon. It was true that he had a temper and could hardly be described as the ideal father, but one the few occasions he had seen Leon and his brother, Chris, together, it was obvious to anyone with eyes that the two of them cared for each other deeply. They laughed, teased each other and argued just as any other siblings would, but despite the occasional flashes of temper, their love, that brotherly affection, still shone through bright the very sun itself.
D knew that Leon would make a wonderful and devoted parent. He just wished he could be say the same thing about himself with any degree of certainty.
Despite his rough and tumble appearance and somewhat crass attitude, Leon had surprised him by showing a much softer, gentler side than D would have guessed existed. He had been so patient with him last night… so kind. Taking time to soothe his fears, he hadn’t sought to simply take his own pleasure, as he thought he might, but offered it freely as well in an exchange that had left him trembling and breathless. The experience had not been what he had expected it to be at all. And for that he was grateful.
Small trembles radiated through D’s body as he remembered the various ways Leon had pleasured him with his hands, his lips and mouth. Another warm wave raced through him and he bit his lower lip wishing that Leon were here with him now. He needed to be with him, to feel him close. His desire, once awoken, was fierce but there was nothing he could do about it at the moment… or anything he was willing to do, despite his grandfather’s advice that morning.
The mother and her child were leaving and D watched them go, taking note of the differences in her body compared to those who had not yet known motherhood. Would his body undergo such changes? He didn’t know and couldn’t say for certain one way or the other for none of his family that he had known had given birth in a so-called traditional manner. It seemed likely, though.
Would his belly expand, his hips round out? And would Leon still look at him with desire in his eyes? Would he still want to be with him, touch him, pleasure him?
The future, once so certain, was now murky, unpredictable, and he had no one he felt comfortable confiding in. Having a baby was necessary, the only way he could assure the continuation of his race, but the idea of giving birth, of carrying such a huge responsibility on his own, terrified him.
A shadow feel across D as a pool boy appeared, carrying a fresh drink on a tray. His sandy blond hair was short and wavy and framed his young face. His bare chest was nicely sculpted and his legs, partially concealed by a pair of khaki shorts, were lean and muscular.
“You look like you could use a drink,” he smiled, setting a tall glass down on the table and whisking away the empty one he had set on the table earlier.
D straightened and tucked his uncertainties away behind a smiling mask. “I’m sorry, but I didn’t order anything to drink.”
The pool boy hooked a thumb over his shoulder and grinned. “That gentleman over there ordered for you.” D followed the gesture and saw the man that had passed by earlier relaxing a short distance away. He raised his glass in a cheerful salute and D inclined his head in a gesture of cool politeness. The pool boy watched their exchange and, to D’s surprise, winked at him suggestively.
“Enjoy!” He turned and walked back over to the other man, who slipped a folded bill into his hand in passing.
Like catnip, D thought, recalling his grandfather’s words, and snorted lightly as the man stood and approached with a confident swagger in his walk. He was a fine specimen, indeed, dark hair, broad shoulders, narrow waist and nicely muscled body. He was sporting a deep tan, but then again, this was California and some people simply didn’t seem to be concerned about premature aging.
Politely, D took a sip of the drink and pulled a face at the high alcohol content. Obviously the handsome stranger hadn’t bothered asking what he had been drinking before placing an order for him. How presumptuous. Irritation prickled and he placed the glass on the table and rose to his feet, feeling the need for some cooler air.
“Hi,” The man thrust out his hand as soon as he was close enough and D dutifully accepted it then released it as soon as was polite. The palms of his hands were as smooth and soft as a baby’s and rather warm. D suspected that he powdered them. “You were looking kind of thirsty so I thought I’d order you a little something.”
“That’s very nice of you, Mr. -“ D trailed off expectantly with a smile.
“Wilkinson. Charles Wilkinson.”
“But I was just getting ready to return to my room,” D added quietly. “I need to get out of the sun.” He gestured toward the cloudless sky with his fan. “I’m sure you understand.”
He had been hoping that the other man would get the hint and leave, but he simply grinned all the wider. “Why don’t I walk you there?” he offered, “I wouldn’t want anything to happen to such a lovely creature as you.”
This earned a raised eyebrow from D. “That’s very kind of you, sir,” he murmured demurely, “but I wouldn’t want to inconvenience you.”
“Not at all,” Charles laughed a little too heartily. “I was just heading in myself.”
I just bet you were, D thought sourly. He gasped as the other man placed his hand on the small of his back and steered him forward, toward the pool exit. The touch of his hand seemed to burn through the silk of his outfit, to his skin and very bones. It wasn’t an entirely pleasant sensation, and he disliked the way his too-personal touch set his heart and blood racing.
He pulled away, his smooth brow crinkling in confusion and walked a bit faster, making sure to keep just out of his reach without appearing to be doing so deliberately.
D entered the hotel’s plush lobby. Cool air whispered along his skin as he made his way to the elevator, Charles trailing slightly behind him. The front desk was momentarily unmanned and there were no guests about. No doubt they were either in their rooms or, more likely, strolling along the world-renowned Rodeo Drive or enjoying Robertson Boulevard shopping. Music played softly through hidden speakers, but it sounded distorted and strange to his ears.
With one lacquered tipped finger, he pushed the up button to call the car down to the lobby. Moments later, Charles reached around him, and pushed the button again – as if his push alone wasn’t enough. The too-sweet stench of cologne tickled his nose and he only hoped that he wouldn’t be stuck in the elevator with him very long. When the elevator doors opened, D stepped inside and pressed the button for the sixteenth floor. Charles, he noted with some irritation, did not press a floor button.
“The sixteenth floor, eh?” Charles grinned, wagging his brows in a lewdly suggestive manner, “Presidential suite and all that. I hear it’s pretty fancy up there.”
Instead of verbally replying, and therefore encouraging him, D merely nodded his head and waited for the elevator doors to close so it could begin its ascent. Finally the doors whooshed closed and the motor began to work, dragging its passengers higher then higher still.
The bell dinged as it passed the second floor then the third. Silently D counted each floor as they passed. One ding followed by another… and another. This was turning into the longest elevator ride of his life. It seemed to take forever and his eyelids were getting incredibly heavy. He must have been more fatigued than he thought.
“What’re you thinking about?” Charles demanded, suddenly, edging a bit closer so that D could feel the heat of his sun-baked skin radiating out toward him. Part of him craved the touch of this man’s body, while another wanted to push him away.
D glanced over and frowned. “Nothing in particular,” he replied shortly.
“Thinking about us?”
D shook his head impatiently in an attempt to clear it from the fog of lust that had descended upon him, “Not at all.”
Another bell ding and they were passing the tenth floor. Only six more left, D thought and shifted impatiently, every nerve ending screaming at the other man’s proximity. He wanted off this elevator and away from this man, the sooner, the better, before he did something he might very well regret.
“’Cause I’ve been thinking about us,” Charles continued, dropping his voice to a throaty whisper. He brushed his fingers along the front of D’s embroidered robe, giving the upper most frog closure a tug, releasing it from its clasp with a deftness that showed a certain degree of experience. Another button followed, eliciting a small gasp from D. “You’re very beautiful, you know.”
“That’s kind of you to say,” D replied stiffly.
Anger and passion battled within his body, heating his blood to boiling point. The fingers of his right hand curled into a tight fist, sharp nails biting into the palm. The pain helped clear away the strange fog that had descended upon his mind. Though his body was all but screaming for Charles’ touch, in another moment he knew that it would be this fool’s blood that would be flowing if he didn’t back off. He didn’t want this and he had no intentions of becoming a slave to his hormones.
Charles gripped his shoulders suddenly, his fingers biting into his flesh, and pushed him back against the elevator wall. The hand railing pressed painfully into the small of his back. As D opened his mouth to unleash a scathing remark, dry lips clamped over his in a clumsy kiss that was all tongue and desperation. A knee was thrust between his legs, rudely parting them.
For a moment D melted into the kiss, abandoning himself to what his body craved. The feel of Charles’ hands roaming across his body sent the terrible heat within soaring to greater heights. He feared that it would consume him if he didn’t exercise extreme caution.
“I can’t,” D whispered breathlessly as he broke away from Charles’ lips. “I’m sorry… I can’t do this.”
With the last reserves of his inner strength, D pushed him away, taking no pleasure at the painful sound the other man’s skull made against the paneling of the elevator wall.
The sixteenth floor bell rang and the elevator doors slid open. D stepped out unsteadily and smoothed a hand over his hair. He quickly fastened the two undone buttons before turning his to the other passenger who stood there, glowering at him reproachfully as he rubbed the back of his head.
“What the hell are you playing at?” Charles snapped and the bulge of his erection was very obvious beneath his swimming trunks. “What are you, some sort of cock tease?”
“I’m sorry, sir,” D’s voice was low and deadly, the very promise of violence. Anger had finally won out over mindless lust. “But I have already taken a lover. And we do not share.”
Then the elevator doors slid closed, cutting off the other man’s no doubt heated response.
Blowing out a puff of air, D made his way down the hall, his hand trailing along the wall as he made his way to the door to the Presidential Suite. Using the magnetic key card to let himself in, his fingers worked the frog closures as fast as he could, ripping the garment from his body and draping it over the back of the sofa with a mental note to have it cleaned - today if at all possible.
After quickly rinsing out his mouth with mouthwash, D reeled to the master bedroom, kicked off his slippers and laid down on the bed, pulling the duvet around his body, seeking what marginal comfort it could provide. He took Leon’s pillow and buried his face into its softness, but found that not a trace of his scent remained. The maids had already been in to clean the room and these linens smelled only of laundry detergent and fabric softener.
“Oh, Detective,” he moaned into the pillow. “Where are you?”
With his thoughts focused on the blond man who had come into his personal life and turned everything upside down, D slipped into an uneasy sleep, his arms tightly wrapped around Leon’s scentless pillow.
TO BE CONTINUED…
CHAPTER 12
I am not completely happy with this chapter, but the story has been stalled for almost a month so I thought I ought to post what I had so I could finally move on. Please accept my apologies.
Pairing: Leon x D
Category: Supernatural/Alternate Universe
Rating: R
Warning: Violence, Language, Sexual Situations and Hermaphrodite!D
Title: The Hunted
Author: yellowhorde
Notes: This was written for NaNoWriMo 2007
After Leon left, D picked up the telephone receiver and ordered a lovely breakfast of Belgian waffles, orange double cream, raspberries and sugared pecans to be brought to the Presidential Suite. A short while later, when he answered the door, he came face to face with a tall, athletically built employee with wavy brown hair and stormy blue eyes, pushing a metal cart bearing his covered meal across the carpeted floor. The discreet brass nametag on his lapel announced that his name was Jorge.
“Breakfast is served,” Jorge said smoothly and presented the covered silver tray to D with a flourish and a dimpled smile. It was obvious that this young man took pride in his appearance. The uniform he wore was clean and freshly pressed, his black leather shoes buffed and gleaming. His skin was soft and smooth, the nails neatly clipped and professionally manicured. All in all, he was a very handsome and desirable man.
He laid out a tea set with teapot, sugar bowl, creamer and two cups onto the table then set the serving tray on the table and removed the cover. Fragrant steam billowed into the air carrying with it a tantalizing array of aromas, each more delightful than the other.
“It looks delicious,” D breathed, clasping his hands before him in anticipation. He plucked a sugared pecan from the plate and slid it between his lips, closing his eyes in rapturous delight as he enjoyed the complex tastes and textures on his tongue. With a small moan of pleasure, he opened his eyes and smiled at his server.
“My compliments to the chef,” he murmured.
Pleased at the speed in which his order had been delivered, the artful presentation and the quality, D rose, the very picture of elegance in the simple black robes he had donned that morning. As he handed the young man a generous tip, his fingers brushing lightly against the smooth, tanned flesh of his hand.
A tingling sensation tightened his chest as an unexpected flash of warmth surged though his veins at the unintentional contact, dragging a silent gasp from his lips. So unlike Detective Orcot’s rough and calloused hands, D marveled. Sensory memories of the feelings Leon’s hands could evoke flooded his memory, bringing a slight flush to his face.
As if accustomed to such reactions, and believing that he was the direct cause, Jorge flashed a flirtatious smile. “Enjoy your meal,” he said warmly. “And if you need anything,” here his voice took on a suggestive tone, “Please, don’t hesitate to ask.”
“Thank you,” D assured, “I will.”
With a smile, Jorge gracefully inclined his head in thanks and withdrew, taking his cart with him.
Feeling oddly light headed, D sat down and took a few moments to examine his unaccustomed reaction to the handsome Jorge. The young man was attractive and well turned out, but he had seen many such men during his life but had never experienced such a strong reaction to any of them. Leon Orcot, of course, had been the only exception. Loud, crude and, more often than not, rumpled in tee shirts and jeans, he was the exact opposite of the young man who had just left. And yet there had been an undeniable attraction almost from the very beginning.
D was drawn from his thoughts by a knock on the suite door. Then it was repeated, louder and more insistent. Assuming it must be the Detective returning and knocking because he had either forgotten or lost his room key, he rose and smoothed a hand over his hair before hurrying over to answer the door. But instead of the blond haired, blue eyed detective, D found himself standing face to face with his grandfather.
“Grandfather,” D clasped his hands and bowed his greeting. “What a pleasant surprise.” He straightened, stepped back from the door slightly, and gestured toward the interior of the suite. “I was just about to have breakfast. Would you care to join me?”
“No, thank you,” Tsu Fu said brusquely, “I’ve already eaten. And this is not a social visit, my child.” The cowled man swept into the suite, the black folds of his cloak whispering over the carpeted floor. His eyes moved restlessly as he scanned his surroundings, missing nothing as he walked through the rooms, opening doors then quickly shutting them again.
Tsu Fu strode back to the main living room and stopped in the middle so abruptly D, who trailed behind him uncertainly, almost ran into him. “Where is Detective Orcot?” he demanded.
Under the intense, all-seeing gaze of his grandfather, D lowered his eyes and replied calmly. “He was called away… on an important business matter.”
“An important business matter,” Tsu Fu repeated quietly and D could not bring himself to meet his fierce expression. “If I recall correctly, it was an important business matter that brought him here in the first place.”
The callous words brought a wash of heat to D’s cheeks. “Grandfather, please,” he chided gently, “I assure you, Detective Orcot takes his responsibilities very seriously.”
While D wanted to believe that Leon had taken him into his arms and bed last night because of honest physical desire, he wasn’t foolish enough to think that was the only reason they had become intimate. There was, after all, a contract that bound them together, one which had been drafted when they were but children. The sad truth of the matter was that Leon had likely agreed to bed him simply because he had no real choice in the matter.
“It’s just as well that he isn’t here,” Tsu Fu said, taking a seat at the table. D busied himself pouring tea for his grandfather, adding several heaping teaspoons of sugar into the brew. He set the cup and saucer before the other man and then took his own seat. “What I’ve come to say doesn’t concern him anyway.”
For several moments they sat in silence, sipping their tea, each lost in their own thoughts. It was Tsu Fu who broke the silence. “How are you feeling, child?” he asked, adding another spoonful of sugar to his tea.
“I am fine, Grandfather, thank you,” D replied quietly.
“Good. And your heart,” Tsu Fu pressed, “How is your health holding up? Are you having any problems?”
One hand went to D’s chest and pressed against the black silk as if seeking comfort in the steady pulse it found. “My heart is fine. It has not troubled me for some time,” he replied, uncertain where this line of questioning was going.
Tsu Fu nodded and reached into the folds of his cloak and withdrew a small bottle filled with crimson liquid. He placed it on the table and pushed it toward D, who stared at it, aghast, but made no effort to pick it up.
“This whole necessary ordeal may prove to be very stressful for you,” he said, “I know this. And so to does you’re father. He stopped by the Shop this morning intend on giving you this,” he gestured toward the bottle on the table, “But, of course, you weren’t in.”
“Father is in Los Angeles?”
“Yes, he is,” Tsu Fu answered, though it was plain from the tone of his voice that he was not pleased by the fact. “He’s currently traveling with a Japanese biological researcher by the name of Akira Fujiwara, who is giving lectures at various universities concerning the upcoming release of some experimental new drug treatment for those who suffer from Lycanthrope Disorder.”
“I see.” D wasn’t certain how he should feel about the news of his father’s reappearance. He hadn’t seen the man in twenty years and had never initiated their rare and mercifully brief exchanges over the telephone. His eyes fell on the bottle with its hateful contents, sitting so innocently there on the table… his medicine.
He closed his eyes, remembering the first donor his father had used to create medicine for his imperfect son. She had been identical to him as he was to his father, his grandfather and all their relations stretching back to the annihilation of their people one thousand years ago. The only difference, of course, had been her gender. Though he had been unsettled and suspicious of her at first, he had harbored some small affection for his little sister. Her untimely death had hit him hard, harder than he would have thought possible.
Her blood, the so-called medicine his father had intended for him, had indeed eased his heart troubles, at least for a short while and as long as he did not overexert himself, he was fine. So in that respect, D supposed, the medicine had been successful… but the price – the life of his Xiao Mei, his biologically engineered sister - had been too high.
It pained him to know that his father had created yet another creature whose only purpose was to die so that his son may live. But the proof lay in the bottle on the table in front of him. It hurt even more to know that he could not refuse the offering. Without it his imperfect body would continue to deteriorate and the sad fact of the matter was that he could no longer survive for long without it. He needed it… and despised himself for that very fact.
Reluctantly, D picked up the bottle, hating the way it felt in his hands – warm, almost alive. “Please extend my gratitude to Father. It was very… thoughtful of him.”
“I’m sure you’ll have the opportunity to thank him yourself,” Tsu Fu muttered, then drained the last of his tea. “He’ll be staying in the Los Angeles area for a few weeks. No doubt he may pay you a visit.”
The empty teacup was set aside and D knew that the so-called pleasantries of their visit had come to an end. Now they would talk business.
“As you know,” Tsu Fu began calmly, “It is not uncommon for many female animals to take more than one mate during estrus.”
Numbly, D nodded his head, a sense of apprehension rising. “Yes, Grandfather, I know.”
“You may find that your sexual appetites at this time may be a bit… overwhelming,” Tsu Fu said, “No doubt you may have noticed an unusual attraction, a lust arising within you. Believe me when I say that it is not uncommon for you to feel this way. These feelings will continue for as long as you are in estrus.”
Tsu Fu leaned forward, his expression and body language tense. “If one mate cannot satisfy your needs, then I must insist that you take as many lovers as necessary to insure impregnation.”
Hot color seeped into his cheeks, setting them aflame. D dropped his eyes and stared into the depths of his teacup, uncertain how to respond to what his grandfather had just told him.
“But what about the contract, Grandfather?” D finally managed after a few moments of shocked silence. He raised his head to squarely meet the other man’s cool gaze.
“What of it?” Tsu Fu replied impatiently, “The contract was to assure that you would have a mate when your cycle began. And, as you yourself said, he has preformed his role well. But,” he jabbed the table with one finger as if for emphasis. “Detective Orcot is not here now during what could be the time of your greatest need.”
Tsu Fu leaned back into his chair and made a visible effort to calm himself. He folded his arms and stared at D with indifferent eyes. “And, if I may point out,” He added in a hushed but dangerous voice, “In no part of the contract does it stipulate that you are to be exclusively his.”
D sipped in a quick breath and could only stare at his grandfather, unable to find his voice or even form a coherent response.
“The most important thing is that you bear a child.” Tsu Fu continued in a more normal, conversational tone. “Who the father is doesn’t really matter. Men will find themselves drawn to you at this time. Like cats to catnip, they will not be able to help themselves. Why not enjoy yourself for a time?”
“Besides,” he had added in a chillingly offhanded manner, “having several mates increases the odds that you will conceive.”
Leon’s angry words from that morning cut through D’s mind, still sharp, still hurtful… but with an undeniable kernel of truth. It had been quite a shock earlier to hear his own thoughts coming from the Detective’s mouth. His grandfather was using him… to secure the future of their race, to prevent them from walking down the path that would inevitably lead to extinction. All that mattered was that he produced an heir. Did it truly matter who planted the seed as long as life was created?
“I know what you’re thinking, child,” Tsu Fu’s voice was gentle. “It is in our nature to search out and join with our one true mate for life. But I cannot allow you to make the same mistake that I made… that your father also made – to give yourself heart and soul to but one man, this Leon Orcot.”
D’s brows drew together in puzzlement, “I don’t understand, Grandfather. How could it possibly be a mistake?”
“May I have a bit more tea?” Tsu Fu asked quietly, without answering his question.
“Yes, certainly, Grandfather,” D stood and poured more tea into the other man’s cup and added the requisite sugar. He handed it to his grandfather, who thanked him before taking a sip. Tsu Fu then set the cup down and clasped his hands on the table before him.
For a long time Tsu Fu sat in silence, staring down at his hands, lost in his thoughts… or perhaps his memories.
“When I was young, I chose Li Hua as my mate,” Tsu Fu spoke so softly D had to lean forward to hear him. “It was as much a logical choice as an emotional one. He was young, healthy, and vigorous.” A smile touched Tsu Fu’s lips, but it was mingled with sadness. “There was a connection between us, one neither of us could deny. Some might call it love. And I would not be one to deny it.”
“I knew that our race was dying. I could feel it in my own body. A strange weakness I could not account for. I dined adequately on fresh fruits, vegetables and whole grains. But no matter what I ate, my body could not produce enough energy to sustain me. Quite by accident, I discovered that sugar helped overcome this weakness, at least for short periods of time. Soon I had developed quite the sweet tooth,” Tsu Fu admitted with a smile, “An addiction I’m afraid I have passed on to you and your father.”
D nodded his head in silent agreement. He was more than aware of the effects sugar had on his body – a disconcerting draining of energy that left him weak and trembling -especially when he had not consumed anything sweet for any length of time. It was a dreadful condition that could become quite dangerous if left unattended.
”I knew that whatever weaknesses existed within my body would be passed on to my offspring should I continue to reproduce parthenogenically as we had been doing for centuries. Mating with a partner, I knew, was the preferable means of reproducing since the genetic material of the offspring would be varied. Unfortunately, that wasn’t an option as my race had been wiped out save for a sole survivor. The only way to save my race was to join with the only other compatible species on the planet – our enemies, the humans.”
“And so I took Li Hua as my mate in the hopes of saving our race, our future,” Tsu Fu sighed. “Unfortunately, some unforeseen problems arose. There were no fertility tests available in China then, you see, and by the time we realized something was wrong… it was too late.”
“Grandfather…”
“I could detect none of my physical ailments in your father save for that curious weakness. But as sugar seemed to offer an easy solution to the problem, I did not fret overly much on the matter. He grew and thrived as outwardly healthy as any normal child might but there was something wrong. I could sense it despite the fact that there was nothing physically wrong with him. I could never quite place my finger on the problem. He was certainly intelligent enough and he proved to be a brilliant scholar, but there was something… unstable about him. Here.” Tsu Fu touched a finger to his temple.
“In the end your father fared no better than I,” Tsu Fu picked up the teacup, but did not take a drink. Instead he turned it around in his hands, following the exquisite pattern with his eyes.
“He set his heart on some young man he met at University. Howell, I believe was his family’s name. But your father had made a mistake… his chosen one could not accept what he was and they had a falling out of sorts.” He set the cup down and glanced at D. “Something inside him died that day he fled the University. He was never quite the same again.”
D reached for the half-empty teacup with the intentions of refilling it, if for no other reason than to have something to do with his hands. Tsu Fu captured his hand and enclosed it in both of his own.
“You are our last hope, child.” Tsu Fu whispered hoarsely, “Your mind and desire are strong, but your heart and body are weak.”
D opened his mouth to protest, but his grandfather hushed him. “You were so small, so fragile as an infant. Your father and I were afraid that we would lose you. It is a miracle you have survived as long as you have.”
Tsu Fu released his hands and pulled into the depths of his cowl. “I must admit that I did not trust your father to do right by you, so I took you away from him and raised you myself. Perhaps it was a mistake, but at the time it was the best course of action available to me. Your father never forgave me. I can’t say that I blame him. I couldn’t have been if our positions had been reversed.”
“Hear me. The medicine your father has made for you is not a cure,” Tsu Fu said. “It will not stop the degeneration; it can only slow it down. The heart condition that plagues you will be fatal to any offspring you should pass it on to should you have no choice but to reproduce parthenogenically.”
“If we are to survive, you must produce an heir. Otherwise, all is lost.”
***
D fluttered his fan in quiet agitation as he reclined on one of the blue and white loungers that surrounded the hotel’s heated pool. The wind wound playfully through the trees of the exquisitely landscaped terrace, carrying on its back the scent of lemons, suntan lotion and chlorine. It ruffled his hair, plucked at the black silk of his robes but did little to soothe him.
A man, tall, lean and muscular, wearing miniscule black swimming trunks sauntered past leaving the scent of Coppertone suntan lotion, rich with the scent of coconuts, in his wake. D’s breath caught in his throat. Inexplicably, he longed for the feel of sand beneath his feet, the roar of the sea as it threw itself against the rocks, the salty tang of the air and the cry of seagulls…
Memories of a rare excursion to the beach with the Detective on one of his off-duty days surfaced without warning. Together they had walked the beach while the waves danced along the sand, washing over their feet and wiping away their footsteps. There had been no arguments that day, D remembered, no accusations thrown. The weather had been as calm as their tempers.
On his lounger, D closed his eyes as the triggering scent faded. He rested his head against the cushion and flashed back on more recent sensual memories from the night before. The brush of Leon’s hands against his skin, their bodies entwining, the taste of his kisses, sweeter and more irresistible than any fine chocolate…
In a rush, heat rose within his body, stirring desires he had never known resided within him until last night. The sun had slanted slowly across the sky, its warming rays slipping under the protection of the overhead umbrella to fall upon his upturned face. But it wasn’t the sun’s heat that flushed his skin and brought the sheen of sweat to his brow… or the dampness between his thighs.
Frowning, D sat up, snapping his fan shut with a flick of his wrist. It bothered him that his body was behaving in such an unaccustomed manner. It bothered him even more that such reactions could be brought about simply by thinking of Leon Orcot… and the physical pleasures they had shared the night before.
Reopening his fan with a flourish, D fluttered it in agitation, beating drifts of air into his face. “This is your fault, Grandfather,” he muttered petulantly under his breath as he set his empty glass on the nearby table. And this was true. None of this would be happening if Fate – and his grandfather – had not conspired to push him into Leon’s arms.
Shrill laughter and the splashing of water drew his thoughts away from his inner turmoil and he found his gaze being drawn to a very pregnant woman on the far end of the pool, her full stomach swelling out before her. The purple skirt of her tropical print surplice-cut suit floated lazily about her like the petals of a flower. Though it must have been cumbersome for her to move on land at such a late stage of her pregnancy, she moved with grace and elegance in the chlorinated water of the pool.
Her curly auburn hair was pinned into a loose bun at the nape of her neck and the skin of her shoulders was pink from the sun. She was holding the hands of a young child in red swimming trunks wearing bright yellow floating devices on his arms and a matching floatation vest. The child, a boy of perhaps three years of age, kicked and splashed happily while she held him safe and offered her smiling encouragement.
For several minutes, D watched mother and child as they played in the water. Unconsciously his own hands went to his abdomen, stroking along its smooth tautness. A small tightness formed in his chest as he looked on, but he willed it away with a fierceness that surprised him. There was obvious love and affection between them, something he had never shared with his own father - or his grandfather for that matter. They had never been unkind, but neither had they been especially warm.
When the time came, would he be capable of sharing such feelings with the child he may even now be carrying within his body? Was he even capable of such emotions? Or would he be cold and distant as those who had come before him?
Once more his mind’s eye turned to Leon, gruff, foul-mouthed, irritating Leon. It was true that he had a temper and could hardly be described as the ideal father, but one the few occasions he had seen Leon and his brother, Chris, together, it was obvious to anyone with eyes that the two of them cared for each other deeply. They laughed, teased each other and argued just as any other siblings would, but despite the occasional flashes of temper, their love, that brotherly affection, still shone through bright the very sun itself.
D knew that Leon would make a wonderful and devoted parent. He just wished he could be say the same thing about himself with any degree of certainty.
Despite his rough and tumble appearance and somewhat crass attitude, Leon had surprised him by showing a much softer, gentler side than D would have guessed existed. He had been so patient with him last night… so kind. Taking time to soothe his fears, he hadn’t sought to simply take his own pleasure, as he thought he might, but offered it freely as well in an exchange that had left him trembling and breathless. The experience had not been what he had expected it to be at all. And for that he was grateful.
Small trembles radiated through D’s body as he remembered the various ways Leon had pleasured him with his hands, his lips and mouth. Another warm wave raced through him and he bit his lower lip wishing that Leon were here with him now. He needed to be with him, to feel him close. His desire, once awoken, was fierce but there was nothing he could do about it at the moment… or anything he was willing to do, despite his grandfather’s advice that morning.
The mother and her child were leaving and D watched them go, taking note of the differences in her body compared to those who had not yet known motherhood. Would his body undergo such changes? He didn’t know and couldn’t say for certain one way or the other for none of his family that he had known had given birth in a so-called traditional manner. It seemed likely, though.
Would his belly expand, his hips round out? And would Leon still look at him with desire in his eyes? Would he still want to be with him, touch him, pleasure him?
The future, once so certain, was now murky, unpredictable, and he had no one he felt comfortable confiding in. Having a baby was necessary, the only way he could assure the continuation of his race, but the idea of giving birth, of carrying such a huge responsibility on his own, terrified him.
A shadow feel across D as a pool boy appeared, carrying a fresh drink on a tray. His sandy blond hair was short and wavy and framed his young face. His bare chest was nicely sculpted and his legs, partially concealed by a pair of khaki shorts, were lean and muscular.
“You look like you could use a drink,” he smiled, setting a tall glass down on the table and whisking away the empty one he had set on the table earlier.
D straightened and tucked his uncertainties away behind a smiling mask. “I’m sorry, but I didn’t order anything to drink.”
The pool boy hooked a thumb over his shoulder and grinned. “That gentleman over there ordered for you.” D followed the gesture and saw the man that had passed by earlier relaxing a short distance away. He raised his glass in a cheerful salute and D inclined his head in a gesture of cool politeness. The pool boy watched their exchange and, to D’s surprise, winked at him suggestively.
“Enjoy!” He turned and walked back over to the other man, who slipped a folded bill into his hand in passing.
Like catnip, D thought, recalling his grandfather’s words, and snorted lightly as the man stood and approached with a confident swagger in his walk. He was a fine specimen, indeed, dark hair, broad shoulders, narrow waist and nicely muscled body. He was sporting a deep tan, but then again, this was California and some people simply didn’t seem to be concerned about premature aging.
Politely, D took a sip of the drink and pulled a face at the high alcohol content. Obviously the handsome stranger hadn’t bothered asking what he had been drinking before placing an order for him. How presumptuous. Irritation prickled and he placed the glass on the table and rose to his feet, feeling the need for some cooler air.
“Hi,” The man thrust out his hand as soon as he was close enough and D dutifully accepted it then released it as soon as was polite. The palms of his hands were as smooth and soft as a baby’s and rather warm. D suspected that he powdered them. “You were looking kind of thirsty so I thought I’d order you a little something.”
“That’s very nice of you, Mr. -“ D trailed off expectantly with a smile.
“Wilkinson. Charles Wilkinson.”
“But I was just getting ready to return to my room,” D added quietly. “I need to get out of the sun.” He gestured toward the cloudless sky with his fan. “I’m sure you understand.”
He had been hoping that the other man would get the hint and leave, but he simply grinned all the wider. “Why don’t I walk you there?” he offered, “I wouldn’t want anything to happen to such a lovely creature as you.”
This earned a raised eyebrow from D. “That’s very kind of you, sir,” he murmured demurely, “but I wouldn’t want to inconvenience you.”
“Not at all,” Charles laughed a little too heartily. “I was just heading in myself.”
I just bet you were, D thought sourly. He gasped as the other man placed his hand on the small of his back and steered him forward, toward the pool exit. The touch of his hand seemed to burn through the silk of his outfit, to his skin and very bones. It wasn’t an entirely pleasant sensation, and he disliked the way his too-personal touch set his heart and blood racing.
He pulled away, his smooth brow crinkling in confusion and walked a bit faster, making sure to keep just out of his reach without appearing to be doing so deliberately.
D entered the hotel’s plush lobby. Cool air whispered along his skin as he made his way to the elevator, Charles trailing slightly behind him. The front desk was momentarily unmanned and there were no guests about. No doubt they were either in their rooms or, more likely, strolling along the world-renowned Rodeo Drive or enjoying Robertson Boulevard shopping. Music played softly through hidden speakers, but it sounded distorted and strange to his ears.
With one lacquered tipped finger, he pushed the up button to call the car down to the lobby. Moments later, Charles reached around him, and pushed the button again – as if his push alone wasn’t enough. The too-sweet stench of cologne tickled his nose and he only hoped that he wouldn’t be stuck in the elevator with him very long. When the elevator doors opened, D stepped inside and pressed the button for the sixteenth floor. Charles, he noted with some irritation, did not press a floor button.
“The sixteenth floor, eh?” Charles grinned, wagging his brows in a lewdly suggestive manner, “Presidential suite and all that. I hear it’s pretty fancy up there.”
Instead of verbally replying, and therefore encouraging him, D merely nodded his head and waited for the elevator doors to close so it could begin its ascent. Finally the doors whooshed closed and the motor began to work, dragging its passengers higher then higher still.
The bell dinged as it passed the second floor then the third. Silently D counted each floor as they passed. One ding followed by another… and another. This was turning into the longest elevator ride of his life. It seemed to take forever and his eyelids were getting incredibly heavy. He must have been more fatigued than he thought.
“What’re you thinking about?” Charles demanded, suddenly, edging a bit closer so that D could feel the heat of his sun-baked skin radiating out toward him. Part of him craved the touch of this man’s body, while another wanted to push him away.
D glanced over and frowned. “Nothing in particular,” he replied shortly.
“Thinking about us?”
D shook his head impatiently in an attempt to clear it from the fog of lust that had descended upon him, “Not at all.”
Another bell ding and they were passing the tenth floor. Only six more left, D thought and shifted impatiently, every nerve ending screaming at the other man’s proximity. He wanted off this elevator and away from this man, the sooner, the better, before he did something he might very well regret.
“’Cause I’ve been thinking about us,” Charles continued, dropping his voice to a throaty whisper. He brushed his fingers along the front of D’s embroidered robe, giving the upper most frog closure a tug, releasing it from its clasp with a deftness that showed a certain degree of experience. Another button followed, eliciting a small gasp from D. “You’re very beautiful, you know.”
“That’s kind of you to say,” D replied stiffly.
Anger and passion battled within his body, heating his blood to boiling point. The fingers of his right hand curled into a tight fist, sharp nails biting into the palm. The pain helped clear away the strange fog that had descended upon his mind. Though his body was all but screaming for Charles’ touch, in another moment he knew that it would be this fool’s blood that would be flowing if he didn’t back off. He didn’t want this and he had no intentions of becoming a slave to his hormones.
Charles gripped his shoulders suddenly, his fingers biting into his flesh, and pushed him back against the elevator wall. The hand railing pressed painfully into the small of his back. As D opened his mouth to unleash a scathing remark, dry lips clamped over his in a clumsy kiss that was all tongue and desperation. A knee was thrust between his legs, rudely parting them.
For a moment D melted into the kiss, abandoning himself to what his body craved. The feel of Charles’ hands roaming across his body sent the terrible heat within soaring to greater heights. He feared that it would consume him if he didn’t exercise extreme caution.
“I can’t,” D whispered breathlessly as he broke away from Charles’ lips. “I’m sorry… I can’t do this.”
With the last reserves of his inner strength, D pushed him away, taking no pleasure at the painful sound the other man’s skull made against the paneling of the elevator wall.
The sixteenth floor bell rang and the elevator doors slid open. D stepped out unsteadily and smoothed a hand over his hair. He quickly fastened the two undone buttons before turning his to the other passenger who stood there, glowering at him reproachfully as he rubbed the back of his head.
“What the hell are you playing at?” Charles snapped and the bulge of his erection was very obvious beneath his swimming trunks. “What are you, some sort of cock tease?”
“I’m sorry, sir,” D’s voice was low and deadly, the very promise of violence. Anger had finally won out over mindless lust. “But I have already taken a lover. And we do not share.”
Then the elevator doors slid closed, cutting off the other man’s no doubt heated response.
Blowing out a puff of air, D made his way down the hall, his hand trailing along the wall as he made his way to the door to the Presidential Suite. Using the magnetic key card to let himself in, his fingers worked the frog closures as fast as he could, ripping the garment from his body and draping it over the back of the sofa with a mental note to have it cleaned - today if at all possible.
After quickly rinsing out his mouth with mouthwash, D reeled to the master bedroom, kicked off his slippers and laid down on the bed, pulling the duvet around his body, seeking what marginal comfort it could provide. He took Leon’s pillow and buried his face into its softness, but found that not a trace of his scent remained. The maids had already been in to clean the room and these linens smelled only of laundry detergent and fabric softener.
“Oh, Detective,” he moaned into the pillow. “Where are you?”
With his thoughts focused on the blond man who had come into his personal life and turned everything upside down, D slipped into an uneasy sleep, his arms tightly wrapped around Leon’s scentless pillow.
TO BE CONTINUED…
CHAPTER 12
I am not completely happy with this chapter, but the story has been stalled for almost a month so I thought I ought to post what I had so I could finally move on. Please accept my apologies.
