yellowhorde (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
yellowhorde) wrote2009-04-01 09:11 pm
yellowhorde) wrote2009-04-01 09:11 pm
(fic) The Hunted - Chapter 18/?
Disclaimer: 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 originally written for NaNoWriMo 2007
Previous Chapters: Prologue 01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08 09 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17
D reared up in bed, violently tearing himself from sleep, eyes open but unseeing. His chest heaved as he gasped for air, trembling, still trapped in the remnants of his nightmare. Though his body was safe in his darkened bedroom in his mind he saw only cruel eyes burned silver in the light of the full moon. Hunting, hungry. Full of unspeakable rage.
A soft questioning sound at his ear pulled him to himself and then a small, warm weight settled lightly on his shoulder. Another concerned squeak.
“Q-chan?” D whispered, relief coursing through him at the presence of his dearest companion. Gently he ran his finger along the soft fur, unerringly finding all of the little creature’s favorite spots. “It’s been days. Where have you been?”
Instead of answering, Q-chan posed a few of his own questions via small squeaks and chirps.
“Yes, I am fine,” D murmured reassuringly. “A bad dream, nothing more.”
Smoothing one hand over his hair, D rose from bed and padded silently across the room to the en suite bathroom with Q-chan still nestled on his shoulder. As always, he found comfort in the small creature’s presence. His disappearance for the past several days had been cause for some concern, though he had not had the time to dwell on the matter due to recent upheavals in his life. Still, he had been sorely missed. With all his pets D seldom lacked for companionship, but Q-chan was special – he was more than a mere companion, he was his friend and had been with him for many, many years.
In the near total darkness of his room, without a clock, or looking out the curtained window, D instinctively knew that the sun was just beginning its climb into the eastern horizon. This, too, was a comfort, for nightmares were far less troubling in the light of day.
Still, a vague sense of unease lingered.
D turned the water faucet and let the water flow as he adjusted the temperature to his liking. As he waited, he let his thoughts wander back to the frightful images of his nightmare. Blood, violence, and rage, unlike anything he had ever encountered before. The creature in his dream had been hidden in shadows, only its blazing eyes and the stench of blood betraying its presence. D shuddered at the memory.
What did it mean?
Billows of steam filled the bathroom as hot water began cascading from the showerhead. Not wanting to be drenched, Q-chan opted to settle on the towel rack, where he began to fastidiously groom himself. Smiling at his companion, D disrobed and stepped into the stream pulling the shower curtain closed behind him.
Unlike many humans, D did not simply dismiss his dreams, nor did he believe that the images his mind projected during his sleep were just a random sorting of events that had transpired throughout the course of his days. He believed that dreams served a purpose, even if that purpose was not fully understood. This dream, he felt certain, was a warning. But what was it warning him about?
The familiar daily ritual of bathing soothed D’s nerves and he felt the tension melt from his shoulders as the water pounded down on him, rinsing it away along with the sudsy lather. Feeling refreshed and clear headed, he shut off the faucet and pushed the beads of water from his skin before reaching around the curtain for a clean towel with which to dry off.
Normally he would have preferred to indulge in a long, luxuriant soak in the tub with exotic oils or fragrances after his shower, but he had neglected his duties at the shop long enough. His weekend with Leon, while enjoyable, had taken him through a wild rollercoaster of emotions that had left him utterly drained. Now, more than ever before, he needed to keep himself busy, both physically and mentally.
As he emerged from the shower, Q-chan uttered a squeak and offered D the robe he clutched in his tiny paws. It was a red cotton yukata his grandfather had sent him several years ago during one of his many expeditions in search of rare and exotic animals for the shop.
“Thank you, Q-chan,” He murmurred, accepting the robe graciously and shrugging into it before tying the sash at his waist.
D appraised his wardrobe with a critical eye toward ease and elegance. He rubbed the fabric of one of his favorite outfits between his thumb and forefinger, considering. But then he remembered Leon’s promise to visit him today… and, more importantly, the activities that such a visit might entail.
Keeping that in mind, he settled instead on a cream and red hanfu with gold brocade at the hem and sleeves. No complicated clasps or button that his detective’s eager yet sometimes clumsy fingers might damage.
Pleased with his selection, he started with the ruqun. The silk whispered as it caressed his skin. He fastened one tie of the top under the cross collar then another one on his right side before wrapping the skirt around his waist and tying it with the attached sash in a bow right under his navel. Next he slipped into the colorful shenyi. Moving with practiced skill he wrapped and fastened the curved hem around his body before donning the brocade waist sash. Matching slippers completed the outfit.
Standing in front of his full length mirror, D examined his reflection, turning this way and that to make sure everything was as it should be with no ripples or bunching.
“What do you think, Q-chan?” He asked.
Q-chan hopped from his perch on the vanity table and glided around him with slow, lazy beats of his bat-like wings. When he completed the circuit he chirped his approval before once again settling on D’s shoulder.
A rap of knuckles against his bedroom door signaled that he had visitors. Sighing, he made minute adjustment to his robe before tightening the sash. Once satisfied, he smoothed his hand through his hair absently.
“You may enter,” he called out.
“Good morning, Count!” Pon-chan sang out as she entered D’s bedchambers, her golden ringlets bouncing as she pranced across the room in a rustle of pink silk and petticoats. In her small hands she held a silver tray bearing fruit and an impressive display of pastries. Tetsu traipsed silently in behind her, carrying a folding breakfast tray in one hand and balancing a tray in his other hand loaded with a tea pot, a small assortment of porcelain dinnerware and cutlery.
Squeaking in delight, Q-chan fluttered over to the tray and snagged a plump red strawberry before returning to the vanity table to enjoy his breakfast.
“Good morning, Pon-chan. Tetsu,” D sank onto the vanity’s bench and nodded toward the trays Tetsu was setting on a low folding table. “What do we have here?”
“Breakfast in bed, sort of,” Tetsu eyed him with a roguish grin. “We thought you might be tired from your weekend… exertions.”
Pon-chan’s face exploded in color and she nearly dropped the cup of tea in her hands. Quickly, she lowered her eyes as she handed it to D.
“Thank you, Pon-chan.” D murmured, though his own cheeks felt warm after Tetsu’s comment. To hide his discomfort, he sipped his tea then made a quick selection of one of the pastries Pon-chan had thoughtfully set out on a plate.
While it was one thing for him to know the truth of his joining with the Detective, he found it disconcerting that it appeared to be common knowledge to his pets. No doubt, he had his grandfather to thank for that.
He glanced at Tetsu and offered a small smile when he noted the genuine concern that lurked in the other man’s eyes. He had long suspected that there was something more than loyalty that bound the totetsu to him. Neither of them spoke of it, but it was there all the same.
“Are you okay?” Tetsu asked in a quiet voice, the grin fading. “He didn’t hurt you, did he?”
“I assure you, my dear Tetsu,” D murmured, reaching out to touch his hand, “that I am quite well, thank you.”
“Good to hear,” Tetsu muttered, gruffly. He cleared his throat and withdrew his own hand before turning toward the door. “Otherwise that third-rate detective and I would have to have a little talk.”
From the vanity table, Q-chan chirped his agreement.
“Indeed.” This brought an amused smile to D’s lips. There was never any talking between the two men, his detective and the totetsu – except an exchange of insults - because whenever the two of them were in a room together they almost always seemed to fall to fisticuffs.
When Tetsu was gone, Pon-chan slipped onto the bed besides D, her small face aglow. “Is it true that you’re going to have a baby?” She asked breathlessly.
“That is our hope.” He replied quietly, looking down at his hands which were now laced neatly in his lap.
Closing his eyes, he drew in a series of deep breaths, striving to calm the anxieties that swirled though his mind. Dimly, he heard the shop’s door bell ring, but it was distant, unimportant.
The light touch of Pon-chan’s hand on his made him look up. “Don’t worry, Count,” she said, looking up into his face and smiling, “We’re all here for you, come what may. You know that, right?”
“Thank you, Pon-chan,” D replied softly. “Yes, I do know. And I am grateful.”
“Hey, Count,” Tetsu opened the door and stuck his head in. “You’ve got a delivery.”
“Oh. Yes, of course.” Calmly, D rose from his seat, Pon-chan at his heels.
It wasn’t uncommon for packages to arrive at the pet shop, but though Tetsu meant well in his efforts to answer the door so as not to disturb him, the currier no doubt only saw him in his animalistic form, as most humans did. This could be very disconcerting for them as Tetsu wasn’t exactly a common household pet.
As he neared the door, he assumed that the delivery man would be from Federal Express or some other delivery service waiting with a package of some sort, perhaps a gift from one of his many satisfied customers. So when he opened the door, he wasn’t entirely surprised when he came face to face with a thick profusion of red and yellow roses.
“Oh my,” He said faintly. One hand fluttered to his heart. “They’re beautiful.”
From behind the flowers a gruff male voice demanded, “You Count D?”
“Yes, I am.”
“Sign here.”
Bewildered, D could only stare at the clipboard with attached pen the man thrust at him after shifting the bouquet to his other hand.
The delivery man was an older gentleman of average height and build with steel gray hair and dark eyes. His nametag read ‘McManus”. His demeanor seemed too hostile for someone in the business of delivering flowers, but maybe he had been having a bad day. It happened from time to time, even to those in the flower business.
After a moment he picked up the pen and signed where the man had indicated.
“So… this is a pet shop, huh?”
“Yes, it is.” D replied politely, handing back the clipboard.
“Mighty strange critters you’ve got here.”
D smiled, assuming that the man was referring to Tetsu. To the average human his animal persona could be a little… unnerving. Leon often referred to him as ‘that goat thing from hell’. This gentleman, however, didn’t seem overly shaken by his experience. Tetsu must have been on his best behavior.
“We have a wide selection of exotic pets,” he said in way of explanation, “as well as dogs, cats and birds.”
“Huh. The grandkid’s been bugging me to get him a pet.” McManus grumbled in a conspirer’s undertone, “But his mother’s ‘lergic to pet dander.”
“That’s too bad.” D murmured then added helpfully, “Perhaps a lizard would be an acceptable solution?”
The man broke into a fierce grin. “Wouldn’t that give her the screamin’ horrors? Ha!”
“I see. Well, perhaps not.”
“No, no.” McManus shook his head. “It’s a damned fine idea. A kid his age needs a pet of their own – builds character. Teaches ‘em responsibility.”
“Indeed.”
“My son could make her see reason, if I asked him to. No fur, no allergies. I’d like to see her wiggle her way out of that argument.” He barked laughter, his shoulders shaking with it. When he was finished, his face wore a more amicable expression. “Anyway, enjoy your flowers.”
With a small, twisted smile, he thrust the flower arrangement into D’s arms, turned on his heels, and marched up the stairs.
“Thank you, sir.” D called and McManus raised his hand in acknowledgement without turning.
Deciding that the floral arrangement would look lovely in the sitting room, D turned and headed inside, the scent of the roses vying against the ever-present incense.
“Oh, Count, they’re beautiful!” Pon-chan exclaimed. D lowered them for her inspection and she buried her face in the blossoms, immersing herself in the feel and scent of the rose petals.
“Yes, they are.” D murmured. Pon-chan pulled away, eyes sparkling and he carefully set the arrangement down on the table where he and Leon often took their tea. “We must give the Detective credit, under all the ill manners and attitude there beats the heart of a very thoughtful and considerate man.”
“Oh, stop. You’re making me blush.”
D whirled, surprised by the familiar voice behind him, “Detective!”
Leon stood in the doorway his hands tucked into his pockets wearing a pair of faded jeans and a white tee-shirt without any trace of stains or smudges, which told D that it must have been a recent acquisition. Tennis shoes graced his feet rather than flip-flops, though the laces looked like they had been tied by a careless kindergartner. Wisps of blond hair clung damply to his forehead and the air around him was subtly fragranced with the scents of soap and shampoo.
A pair of inexpensive aviator sunglasses cast D’s reflection back at him, a puzzling new addition to Leon’s more or less standard attire. For some reason seeing the dark, reflective lenses rather than the detective’s clear blue eyes troubled D more than he could say.
Pon-chan glanced at first D then Leon then back to D again. As if sensing that their presence might no longer be required, both she and Q-chan hurried out of the room, only stopping to glance back once they reached the hall entrance. And then they were gone, no doubt spreading the word that the Count might not wish to be disturbed for a while.
Once Pon-chan and Q-chan were gone, D took Leon’s good hand into his own, stroking his thumb gently along his knuckles. Leon puffed out a sharp breath at the contact. D could feel tension trembling through his arm, but he made no effort to pull away. The smile he offered in greeting hovered for a moment or two before it faded.
Sensing something amiss, D peered into Leon’s face, but could read nothing in the dark blankness that shrouded his eyes. He frowned.
“Detective,” He reached out his hands to remove the sunglasses from the other man’s face, “I can’t speak to you when you hide your eyes like that.”
“Hey!” Leon protested, but though he was a good deal taller than D, he was unable to unable to pull back before D had slipped the shades off his face.
Leon winced and raised his hand to his eyes as if shading them from harsh daylight even though the shop was rather dimly lit. His clear blue eyes were red-rimmed and clouded with emotions that were not easily read. He looked... haunted, somehow.
The two men stared at each other for several moments. The muscles of Leon’s jaw rippled as he clenched his teeth. His hands curled into fists at his side. His expression and body language screamed out a warning, that he was on the edge of control and about to snap, but D couldn’t back down - wouldn’t. He met Leon’s suddenly furious eyes steadily even as his heart skipped its own warning.
“Detective, is something wrong?”
As quickly as it had come, the rage dissolved. Leon staggered as if suddenly too tired to stand on his own feet. “Huh? No, no. I…” Leon sighed and shook his head wearily, shoulders slumping. “I’m sorry. I didn’t sleep well, that’s all.”
D sensed the lie in the midst of his otherwise truthful words and wondered at it. But instead of asking probative questions he merely bowed his head and said, “I’m sorry.”
“S’okay.” Leon cleared his throat then added gruffly, “Not your fault.”
Sighing heavily, he crossed the couch and slumped down onto it, elbows resting against his knees, head buried in his hands. Concerned, D edged closer and gently touched Leon’s uninjured shoulder. The tension was back and it sang through his body. His breath came in short, sharp gasps.
“Detective, are you in pain?”
Leon dragged his hand through his hair. “Headache,” he mumbled staring down at his shoes. “It’ll pass.”
“I don’t know why I came here,” he continued without looking up. “I - I had to get out. Had to leave… before. Before…” He broke off, hand fisting in his disheveled hair, an anguished groan rumbling in his throat.
“Let me help you. Please.”
“Don’t take this wrong, D,” Leon whispered hoarsely, “but I don’t think even you could help me now.”
Shaking his head in agitation, Leon stood abruptly and turned toward the door. “This wasn’t a good idea. I gotta get out of here. It’s not safe.”
“Detective,” D moved behind him, laid his check against his back, rubbing his hands over tense muscles, “Please, don’t go.”
Leon froze, turned as if in slow motion to him. His eyes blazed with an animalistic rage, no thoughts, no reasoning. His expression held only that fierce, unadulterated hate.
D stared into those eyes and trembled. What he was seeing before him was not his dear flash-tempered but basically harmless detective but the face of a hunted, wounded animal on the crumbling edge of sanity. One wrong step on his part and the consequences could be dire for both of them. And though he might recover given enough time, he didn’t think Leon would.
Moving with slow deliberation, Leon tipped his head back. His name came out a throaty rasp. Leon swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. He fanned his hand across his face, cupping D's jaw. A series of violent shudders worked through his body and his fingers tightened spasmodically, pulling a sharp gasp of surprised pain from D. Leon’s head fell back and he cried out in a low, tortured voice.
His next words rode the back of a broken whisper, “Please… help me.”
Hardly daring to breath, D rested his hand over Leon’s. Staring up into his lover’s eyes, he realized that he would not be able to quench the heat of Leon’s rage with words. The time for that had passed. Action was what was required now. Their only hope was if he could diffuse it by meeting it head on with a different sort of heat.
Trembling, D reached out and cupped Leon’s face. “Yes, Detective,” he whispered, “Of course.”
Then D kissed him, hard. He put every ounce of his feelings into that kiss but knew that it might not be enough to banish the unknown beast lurking within his detective.
Surprised, Leon tried to recoil, but slender silk-clad arms banded around him and held him close. Leon’s eyes widened with the sudden shock and his fingers dug into the smaller man’s shoulder like a vice. D winced, but he did not pull away.
After what seemed an eternity, Leon’s eyes cleared, the rage melting like snow under the onslaught of D’s desire. The rage disappeared but the heat remained, intensified as a different sort of passion surfaced. For a moment Leon’s lips were warm and pliant beneath his, and then he was kissing back with as much fervor as D, perhaps more. His hands, once hurting, now began to stroke up and down D’s side as he made raw, needful sounds low in his throat.
D felt the shift and welcomed this new fire, delighted in the reemergence of the man he found annoying, amusing and desirable all at once. He embraced the heat and soaked it in as it scorched him body and soul as Leon painted a line of kisses down his throat.
“I don’t know what you did to me, D,” Leon whispered into the curve of his neck. His voice was unsteady as he gasped for breath. “But thanks. I mean it.”
An impish smile turned up the corners of D’s lips. “You’re welcome.”
Catching D’s lips with his own, Leon walked them backwards then tumbled D down onto the couch then fell to one knee before him. His hands, quick and greedy, fumbled along the ties of D’s clothes, tugging in frustration as he desperately sought the soft flesh within. As the tiny bows came undone, the silk loosened and he pushed it aside impatiently.
“No buttons,” Leon groaned as he parted the folds of D’s outfit and pushed the skirts up over his hips. “Oh, thank God.”
“It seemed a good idea at the time,” D replied arching up at the caress of Leon’s exploring fingers.
“Yeah, a very good idea,” Leon agreed, pulling himself up and pressing D back into the cushions of the couch. Urgently, he nudged D’s legs more widely apart and unsnapped the button of his fly before dragging the zipper down. Half-mad with need, he dragged D up so that he could stare into the depths of his eyes as he pressed inside.
“Oh, D,” he groaned, dropping his head and pressed gentle kisses along one pale shoulder, “Oh, God, D.” His rhythm never slowed or faltered, though, and throughout it all he held on to D like a lifeline.
D sighed softly in his ear, and wrapped his legs around the small of his back. He cried out Leon's name and his breath snagging in his throat as the first wave of orgasm crashed through him.
Moments later, breath ragged, Leon shuddered above D, too drained to give voice to his own pleasure. He collapsed heavily against him and was still for a long time.
“Leon?” D finally whispered, shifting beneath his still weight.
Mumbling unintelligibly, Leon stirred. When he finally lifted his head to meet D’s inquiring eyes, they were filled with anguish, uncertainty and a touch of fear.
“D,” he whispered in a choked voice, “Something’s wrong. I can feel it.”
“Yes,” D said quietly. “I feel it too.”
Leon nodded miserably, and when, moments later, his tired eyes filled with emotion, D drew his head to his chest, stroked his hair and held him until the storm passed.
***
“Do you want to talk about it?” D asked as he set a cup of steaming tea on the table in front of Leon. His robes were just a little rumpled but otherwise no worse for wear. Leon, on the other hand, looked like he had just dragged himself out of bed after a night of barhopping.
Leon bowed his head, cutting his glance anywhere but at D. He twitched his shoulder, embarrassed. “I don’t know… I don’t even know where to begin.”
“Well, start at the beginning,” D prompted as he sat down in the wing back chair directly across the table from Leon. “And when you get to the end - stop.”
“Ha-ha, funny guy,” Leon growled, “But it’s not that simple.”
“Nothing ever truly is, Detective,” D sighed, bringing his own cup to his lips and taking a small sip.
Silence stretched between them as Leon examined his hands with great interest.
“Hey, I see you got some flowers.” Leon’s gestured toward the roses in an obvious attempt at changing the subject.
“Yes. They’re very beautiful, Leon,” D smiled, “Thank you.”
Leon’s head shot up as he blinked his surprise. “Me? You’re thanking me?”
“Of course, Detective,” D chided, a tiny note of irritation creeping into his voice as he turned to fuss with the blossoms, adjusting them more to his liking, “Who else?”
“How about whoever sent them?”
At these words, D’s spine stiffened. It had not occurred to him that Leon might not have sent the roses, though sending a bouquet of expensive roses was indeed uncharacteristic behavior for the detective. But if they hadn’t been sent by his lover, then who?
Frowning, he picked up the vase, searching for some clue as to who the sender was. Noticing a small note tucked in the blossoms he plucked it up then set the vase back on the table. He scanned the card and his breath caught in his throat when he saw the familiar name seal.
“Well?” Leon asked, now hovering over D’s shoulder. “Who are they from?”
“My father,” D whispered hoarsely, running trembling fingers over the seal. “They’re from my father.”
“Oh, yeah?” Leon craned his head for a better look at the card, though he couldn’t read a word of Chinese. “What does it say?”
“Congratulations.”
Leon peered at the calligraphy, frowning. “That’s a hell of a lot of writing for a simple congrats.”
D found himself mentally cursing Leon’s powers of observation. For a moment he considered ignoring the question, but then, to his surprise, he found himself telling him exactly what the message said, despite his initial reservations. “He would like to speak with me. He even left a telephone number and address where he can be reached.”
“What does he want to talk about?”
“I don’t know, Detective.” This was the truth. And to be honest, he didn’t want to know especially now on top of everything else. His dealings with his father had been few and far between over the years and that was exactly the way he wanted to keep it.
“Well, no big deal.” Leon gave a half-shrug. “Just go find out.”
“It’s not that easy, Detective,” D huffed, feeling suddenly out of sorts. He always did when it came to matters of his family, especially his father.
“Sure it is,” Leon insisted. “Just take that stick out of your ass and go see your old man.”
D’s eyes narrowed dangerously as silence filled the room for a few moments and the only sound in the room was the ticking of one of the grandfather clocks as the two men squared off.
“How dare you.” D hissed angrily. He could feel the hot blood rising, his hands trembling as his anger got the best of him. “You know nothing of my family, of me, of my relationship with that man.”
“Bullshit,” Leon snapped, “I bet dollars to doughnuts that he’s every bit as stubborn and high-handed as you are.” He closed the distance between them in two angry strides and jabbed D in the chest with his finger. “So stop being so fucking pig-headed for once in your goddamned life.”
“My family affairs are none of your concern, Detective Orcot.” The room temperature of the room should have dropped twenty degrees, so cold was his tone.
Silence stretched between them for several heartbeats as they glared. Then, to his surprise, Leon threw up his hands in surrender.
“You’re right, you’re right.” He conceded grudgingly. “I don’t know anything about your relationships with your family. You and your dad have problems. Welcome to the world of parent-child relationships. Hey, I understand, I really do. But that doesn’t mean that the two of you should cut each other out of your lives.”
“I haven’t spoken to my father in years, Detective,” D sighed heavily, all the fight going out of him. “And frankly, I- I don’t know what I would say to him if I did see him.”
Scoffing, Leon wrapped his good arm around him, pulled him close and kissed the top of his head in a gesture suspiciously like affection. D stubbornly resisted the urge to melt into the strong warmth at his back.
“So don’t talk.” Leon whispered into his ear and the moist warmth of his breath made him to shiver in reaction. “Just listen.”
Still frustrated and having difficulty thinking as Leon pressed a line of tiny kisses down the side of his neck, D turned to face the other man.
“You don’t understand-“ He began, but Leon shushed him with a finger to his lips.
“He’s your father, D. I get that.” Leon said, voice and expression serious. “But if I’ve learned anything being a cop, it’s that life is short.” His fingers flowed sensually down D’s chin, his throat, leaving a wash of goosebumps in their wake. And lower still until he pressed the flat of his palm against the rapid beating of his heart. “Unpredictable.”
“Believe it or not,” Leon’s voice was a hoarse rasp, “your dad won’t be around forever. He wants to talk, so talk. There’s no harm in it, is there?”
“You don’t know my father, Detective.” D argued, breathlessly. “You don’t know what he’s capable of.”
“You’re right, I don’t.” Leon conceded. “But it seems to me that he’s extending an olive branch here. So just talk to the guy. If you don’t like what he has to say, you can leave. But at least hear him out.”
“I don’t know if-” But he didn’t have a chance to finish before Leon leaned forward and kissed him, slowly, deeply. D made a soft sound in his throat, but even he wasn’t sure if it was protest or encouragement. As if of their own accord, his arms stole around Leon’s broad back, long nailed fingers scrambling for purchase.
When Leon finally broke away, his lips quirked into a teasing smile. “And I’m the one that’s supposed to be stubborn.” He tsked.
“Oh, Detective…” D groaned plaintively then reached up and gently pulled Leon's head back down, mindful of his injured arm.
Leon’s pager went off suddenly causing both of them to start. “Now what?” Leon mumbled as he fished it out of his pocket. He peered at the tiny screen. “Shit!”
“What is it?”
“Jeez. It’s my old man, he said he’d let me know when his plane landed.” He glanced at his watch and groaned. “I was supposed to be there twenty minutes ago.” Pressing a quick kiss to D’s lips, Leon turned on his heels for the door.
“But, Detective-“
Leon glanced at him over his shoulder, his eyes somber. “Yeah, I know what you’re ging to say and I agree with you one hundred percent. It’s just that-“
He broke off and ran a hand through his already rumpled hair. “Look…” He heaved a heavy sigh and crossed back to D. “We need to talk about,” he waved his hand vaguely in the air, “about whatever is going on. With me… your father. Hell, with us. Figure some of this shit out.”
He lowered his forehead so that it rested on D’s. “I promise. Tonight.”
D looked deep into his eyes, a good cop’s eyes, by times hard, stubborn, but honest. He read the sincerity in that gaze and nodded his head. He couldn’t smile, though. Things, he feared, had progressed beyond that.
“Alright, Detective,” He murmured, “Tonight then.”
TO BE CONTINUED…
A/N: As always constructive criticism is welcomed. And I'm sorry about the long wait.
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 originally written for NaNoWriMo 2007
Previous Chapters: Prologue 01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08 09 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17
D reared up in bed, violently tearing himself from sleep, eyes open but unseeing. His chest heaved as he gasped for air, trembling, still trapped in the remnants of his nightmare. Though his body was safe in his darkened bedroom in his mind he saw only cruel eyes burned silver in the light of the full moon. Hunting, hungry. Full of unspeakable rage.
A soft questioning sound at his ear pulled him to himself and then a small, warm weight settled lightly on his shoulder. Another concerned squeak.
“Q-chan?” D whispered, relief coursing through him at the presence of his dearest companion. Gently he ran his finger along the soft fur, unerringly finding all of the little creature’s favorite spots. “It’s been days. Where have you been?”
Instead of answering, Q-chan posed a few of his own questions via small squeaks and chirps.
“Yes, I am fine,” D murmured reassuringly. “A bad dream, nothing more.”
Smoothing one hand over his hair, D rose from bed and padded silently across the room to the en suite bathroom with Q-chan still nestled on his shoulder. As always, he found comfort in the small creature’s presence. His disappearance for the past several days had been cause for some concern, though he had not had the time to dwell on the matter due to recent upheavals in his life. Still, he had been sorely missed. With all his pets D seldom lacked for companionship, but Q-chan was special – he was more than a mere companion, he was his friend and had been with him for many, many years.
In the near total darkness of his room, without a clock, or looking out the curtained window, D instinctively knew that the sun was just beginning its climb into the eastern horizon. This, too, was a comfort, for nightmares were far less troubling in the light of day.
Still, a vague sense of unease lingered.
D turned the water faucet and let the water flow as he adjusted the temperature to his liking. As he waited, he let his thoughts wander back to the frightful images of his nightmare. Blood, violence, and rage, unlike anything he had ever encountered before. The creature in his dream had been hidden in shadows, only its blazing eyes and the stench of blood betraying its presence. D shuddered at the memory.
What did it mean?
Billows of steam filled the bathroom as hot water began cascading from the showerhead. Not wanting to be drenched, Q-chan opted to settle on the towel rack, where he began to fastidiously groom himself. Smiling at his companion, D disrobed and stepped into the stream pulling the shower curtain closed behind him.
Unlike many humans, D did not simply dismiss his dreams, nor did he believe that the images his mind projected during his sleep were just a random sorting of events that had transpired throughout the course of his days. He believed that dreams served a purpose, even if that purpose was not fully understood. This dream, he felt certain, was a warning. But what was it warning him about?
The familiar daily ritual of bathing soothed D’s nerves and he felt the tension melt from his shoulders as the water pounded down on him, rinsing it away along with the sudsy lather. Feeling refreshed and clear headed, he shut off the faucet and pushed the beads of water from his skin before reaching around the curtain for a clean towel with which to dry off.
Normally he would have preferred to indulge in a long, luxuriant soak in the tub with exotic oils or fragrances after his shower, but he had neglected his duties at the shop long enough. His weekend with Leon, while enjoyable, had taken him through a wild rollercoaster of emotions that had left him utterly drained. Now, more than ever before, he needed to keep himself busy, both physically and mentally.
As he emerged from the shower, Q-chan uttered a squeak and offered D the robe he clutched in his tiny paws. It was a red cotton yukata his grandfather had sent him several years ago during one of his many expeditions in search of rare and exotic animals for the shop.
“Thank you, Q-chan,” He murmurred, accepting the robe graciously and shrugging into it before tying the sash at his waist.
D appraised his wardrobe with a critical eye toward ease and elegance. He rubbed the fabric of one of his favorite outfits between his thumb and forefinger, considering. But then he remembered Leon’s promise to visit him today… and, more importantly, the activities that such a visit might entail.
Keeping that in mind, he settled instead on a cream and red hanfu with gold brocade at the hem and sleeves. No complicated clasps or button that his detective’s eager yet sometimes clumsy fingers might damage.
Pleased with his selection, he started with the ruqun. The silk whispered as it caressed his skin. He fastened one tie of the top under the cross collar then another one on his right side before wrapping the skirt around his waist and tying it with the attached sash in a bow right under his navel. Next he slipped into the colorful shenyi. Moving with practiced skill he wrapped and fastened the curved hem around his body before donning the brocade waist sash. Matching slippers completed the outfit.
Standing in front of his full length mirror, D examined his reflection, turning this way and that to make sure everything was as it should be with no ripples or bunching.
“What do you think, Q-chan?” He asked.
Q-chan hopped from his perch on the vanity table and glided around him with slow, lazy beats of his bat-like wings. When he completed the circuit he chirped his approval before once again settling on D’s shoulder.
A rap of knuckles against his bedroom door signaled that he had visitors. Sighing, he made minute adjustment to his robe before tightening the sash. Once satisfied, he smoothed his hand through his hair absently.
“You may enter,” he called out.
“Good morning, Count!” Pon-chan sang out as she entered D’s bedchambers, her golden ringlets bouncing as she pranced across the room in a rustle of pink silk and petticoats. In her small hands she held a silver tray bearing fruit and an impressive display of pastries. Tetsu traipsed silently in behind her, carrying a folding breakfast tray in one hand and balancing a tray in his other hand loaded with a tea pot, a small assortment of porcelain dinnerware and cutlery.
Squeaking in delight, Q-chan fluttered over to the tray and snagged a plump red strawberry before returning to the vanity table to enjoy his breakfast.
“Good morning, Pon-chan. Tetsu,” D sank onto the vanity’s bench and nodded toward the trays Tetsu was setting on a low folding table. “What do we have here?”
“Breakfast in bed, sort of,” Tetsu eyed him with a roguish grin. “We thought you might be tired from your weekend… exertions.”
Pon-chan’s face exploded in color and she nearly dropped the cup of tea in her hands. Quickly, she lowered her eyes as she handed it to D.
“Thank you, Pon-chan.” D murmured, though his own cheeks felt warm after Tetsu’s comment. To hide his discomfort, he sipped his tea then made a quick selection of one of the pastries Pon-chan had thoughtfully set out on a plate.
While it was one thing for him to know the truth of his joining with the Detective, he found it disconcerting that it appeared to be common knowledge to his pets. No doubt, he had his grandfather to thank for that.
He glanced at Tetsu and offered a small smile when he noted the genuine concern that lurked in the other man’s eyes. He had long suspected that there was something more than loyalty that bound the totetsu to him. Neither of them spoke of it, but it was there all the same.
“Are you okay?” Tetsu asked in a quiet voice, the grin fading. “He didn’t hurt you, did he?”
“I assure you, my dear Tetsu,” D murmured, reaching out to touch his hand, “that I am quite well, thank you.”
“Good to hear,” Tetsu muttered, gruffly. He cleared his throat and withdrew his own hand before turning toward the door. “Otherwise that third-rate detective and I would have to have a little talk.”
From the vanity table, Q-chan chirped his agreement.
“Indeed.” This brought an amused smile to D’s lips. There was never any talking between the two men, his detective and the totetsu – except an exchange of insults - because whenever the two of them were in a room together they almost always seemed to fall to fisticuffs.
When Tetsu was gone, Pon-chan slipped onto the bed besides D, her small face aglow. “Is it true that you’re going to have a baby?” She asked breathlessly.
“That is our hope.” He replied quietly, looking down at his hands which were now laced neatly in his lap.
Closing his eyes, he drew in a series of deep breaths, striving to calm the anxieties that swirled though his mind. Dimly, he heard the shop’s door bell ring, but it was distant, unimportant.
The light touch of Pon-chan’s hand on his made him look up. “Don’t worry, Count,” she said, looking up into his face and smiling, “We’re all here for you, come what may. You know that, right?”
“Thank you, Pon-chan,” D replied softly. “Yes, I do know. And I am grateful.”
“Hey, Count,” Tetsu opened the door and stuck his head in. “You’ve got a delivery.”
“Oh. Yes, of course.” Calmly, D rose from his seat, Pon-chan at his heels.
It wasn’t uncommon for packages to arrive at the pet shop, but though Tetsu meant well in his efforts to answer the door so as not to disturb him, the currier no doubt only saw him in his animalistic form, as most humans did. This could be very disconcerting for them as Tetsu wasn’t exactly a common household pet.
As he neared the door, he assumed that the delivery man would be from Federal Express or some other delivery service waiting with a package of some sort, perhaps a gift from one of his many satisfied customers. So when he opened the door, he wasn’t entirely surprised when he came face to face with a thick profusion of red and yellow roses.
“Oh my,” He said faintly. One hand fluttered to his heart. “They’re beautiful.”
From behind the flowers a gruff male voice demanded, “You Count D?”
“Yes, I am.”
“Sign here.”
Bewildered, D could only stare at the clipboard with attached pen the man thrust at him after shifting the bouquet to his other hand.
The delivery man was an older gentleman of average height and build with steel gray hair and dark eyes. His nametag read ‘McManus”. His demeanor seemed too hostile for someone in the business of delivering flowers, but maybe he had been having a bad day. It happened from time to time, even to those in the flower business.
After a moment he picked up the pen and signed where the man had indicated.
“So… this is a pet shop, huh?”
“Yes, it is.” D replied politely, handing back the clipboard.
“Mighty strange critters you’ve got here.”
D smiled, assuming that the man was referring to Tetsu. To the average human his animal persona could be a little… unnerving. Leon often referred to him as ‘that goat thing from hell’. This gentleman, however, didn’t seem overly shaken by his experience. Tetsu must have been on his best behavior.
“We have a wide selection of exotic pets,” he said in way of explanation, “as well as dogs, cats and birds.”
“Huh. The grandkid’s been bugging me to get him a pet.” McManus grumbled in a conspirer’s undertone, “But his mother’s ‘lergic to pet dander.”
“That’s too bad.” D murmured then added helpfully, “Perhaps a lizard would be an acceptable solution?”
The man broke into a fierce grin. “Wouldn’t that give her the screamin’ horrors? Ha!”
“I see. Well, perhaps not.”
“No, no.” McManus shook his head. “It’s a damned fine idea. A kid his age needs a pet of their own – builds character. Teaches ‘em responsibility.”
“Indeed.”
“My son could make her see reason, if I asked him to. No fur, no allergies. I’d like to see her wiggle her way out of that argument.” He barked laughter, his shoulders shaking with it. When he was finished, his face wore a more amicable expression. “Anyway, enjoy your flowers.”
With a small, twisted smile, he thrust the flower arrangement into D’s arms, turned on his heels, and marched up the stairs.
“Thank you, sir.” D called and McManus raised his hand in acknowledgement without turning.
Deciding that the floral arrangement would look lovely in the sitting room, D turned and headed inside, the scent of the roses vying against the ever-present incense.
“Oh, Count, they’re beautiful!” Pon-chan exclaimed. D lowered them for her inspection and she buried her face in the blossoms, immersing herself in the feel and scent of the rose petals.
“Yes, they are.” D murmured. Pon-chan pulled away, eyes sparkling and he carefully set the arrangement down on the table where he and Leon often took their tea. “We must give the Detective credit, under all the ill manners and attitude there beats the heart of a very thoughtful and considerate man.”
“Oh, stop. You’re making me blush.”
D whirled, surprised by the familiar voice behind him, “Detective!”
Leon stood in the doorway his hands tucked into his pockets wearing a pair of faded jeans and a white tee-shirt without any trace of stains or smudges, which told D that it must have been a recent acquisition. Tennis shoes graced his feet rather than flip-flops, though the laces looked like they had been tied by a careless kindergartner. Wisps of blond hair clung damply to his forehead and the air around him was subtly fragranced with the scents of soap and shampoo.
A pair of inexpensive aviator sunglasses cast D’s reflection back at him, a puzzling new addition to Leon’s more or less standard attire. For some reason seeing the dark, reflective lenses rather than the detective’s clear blue eyes troubled D more than he could say.
Pon-chan glanced at first D then Leon then back to D again. As if sensing that their presence might no longer be required, both she and Q-chan hurried out of the room, only stopping to glance back once they reached the hall entrance. And then they were gone, no doubt spreading the word that the Count might not wish to be disturbed for a while.
Once Pon-chan and Q-chan were gone, D took Leon’s good hand into his own, stroking his thumb gently along his knuckles. Leon puffed out a sharp breath at the contact. D could feel tension trembling through his arm, but he made no effort to pull away. The smile he offered in greeting hovered for a moment or two before it faded.
Sensing something amiss, D peered into Leon’s face, but could read nothing in the dark blankness that shrouded his eyes. He frowned.
“Detective,” He reached out his hands to remove the sunglasses from the other man’s face, “I can’t speak to you when you hide your eyes like that.”
“Hey!” Leon protested, but though he was a good deal taller than D, he was unable to unable to pull back before D had slipped the shades off his face.
Leon winced and raised his hand to his eyes as if shading them from harsh daylight even though the shop was rather dimly lit. His clear blue eyes were red-rimmed and clouded with emotions that were not easily read. He looked... haunted, somehow.
The two men stared at each other for several moments. The muscles of Leon’s jaw rippled as he clenched his teeth. His hands curled into fists at his side. His expression and body language screamed out a warning, that he was on the edge of control and about to snap, but D couldn’t back down - wouldn’t. He met Leon’s suddenly furious eyes steadily even as his heart skipped its own warning.
“Detective, is something wrong?”
As quickly as it had come, the rage dissolved. Leon staggered as if suddenly too tired to stand on his own feet. “Huh? No, no. I…” Leon sighed and shook his head wearily, shoulders slumping. “I’m sorry. I didn’t sleep well, that’s all.”
D sensed the lie in the midst of his otherwise truthful words and wondered at it. But instead of asking probative questions he merely bowed his head and said, “I’m sorry.”
“S’okay.” Leon cleared his throat then added gruffly, “Not your fault.”
Sighing heavily, he crossed the couch and slumped down onto it, elbows resting against his knees, head buried in his hands. Concerned, D edged closer and gently touched Leon’s uninjured shoulder. The tension was back and it sang through his body. His breath came in short, sharp gasps.
“Detective, are you in pain?”
Leon dragged his hand through his hair. “Headache,” he mumbled staring down at his shoes. “It’ll pass.”
“I don’t know why I came here,” he continued without looking up. “I - I had to get out. Had to leave… before. Before…” He broke off, hand fisting in his disheveled hair, an anguished groan rumbling in his throat.
“Let me help you. Please.”
“Don’t take this wrong, D,” Leon whispered hoarsely, “but I don’t think even you could help me now.”
Shaking his head in agitation, Leon stood abruptly and turned toward the door. “This wasn’t a good idea. I gotta get out of here. It’s not safe.”
“Detective,” D moved behind him, laid his check against his back, rubbing his hands over tense muscles, “Please, don’t go.”
Leon froze, turned as if in slow motion to him. His eyes blazed with an animalistic rage, no thoughts, no reasoning. His expression held only that fierce, unadulterated hate.
D stared into those eyes and trembled. What he was seeing before him was not his dear flash-tempered but basically harmless detective but the face of a hunted, wounded animal on the crumbling edge of sanity. One wrong step on his part and the consequences could be dire for both of them. And though he might recover given enough time, he didn’t think Leon would.
Moving with slow deliberation, Leon tipped his head back. His name came out a throaty rasp. Leon swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. He fanned his hand across his face, cupping D's jaw. A series of violent shudders worked through his body and his fingers tightened spasmodically, pulling a sharp gasp of surprised pain from D. Leon’s head fell back and he cried out in a low, tortured voice.
His next words rode the back of a broken whisper, “Please… help me.”
Hardly daring to breath, D rested his hand over Leon’s. Staring up into his lover’s eyes, he realized that he would not be able to quench the heat of Leon’s rage with words. The time for that had passed. Action was what was required now. Their only hope was if he could diffuse it by meeting it head on with a different sort of heat.
Trembling, D reached out and cupped Leon’s face. “Yes, Detective,” he whispered, “Of course.”
Then D kissed him, hard. He put every ounce of his feelings into that kiss but knew that it might not be enough to banish the unknown beast lurking within his detective.
Surprised, Leon tried to recoil, but slender silk-clad arms banded around him and held him close. Leon’s eyes widened with the sudden shock and his fingers dug into the smaller man’s shoulder like a vice. D winced, but he did not pull away.
After what seemed an eternity, Leon’s eyes cleared, the rage melting like snow under the onslaught of D’s desire. The rage disappeared but the heat remained, intensified as a different sort of passion surfaced. For a moment Leon’s lips were warm and pliant beneath his, and then he was kissing back with as much fervor as D, perhaps more. His hands, once hurting, now began to stroke up and down D’s side as he made raw, needful sounds low in his throat.
D felt the shift and welcomed this new fire, delighted in the reemergence of the man he found annoying, amusing and desirable all at once. He embraced the heat and soaked it in as it scorched him body and soul as Leon painted a line of kisses down his throat.
“I don’t know what you did to me, D,” Leon whispered into the curve of his neck. His voice was unsteady as he gasped for breath. “But thanks. I mean it.”
An impish smile turned up the corners of D’s lips. “You’re welcome.”
Catching D’s lips with his own, Leon walked them backwards then tumbled D down onto the couch then fell to one knee before him. His hands, quick and greedy, fumbled along the ties of D’s clothes, tugging in frustration as he desperately sought the soft flesh within. As the tiny bows came undone, the silk loosened and he pushed it aside impatiently.
“No buttons,” Leon groaned as he parted the folds of D’s outfit and pushed the skirts up over his hips. “Oh, thank God.”
“It seemed a good idea at the time,” D replied arching up at the caress of Leon’s exploring fingers.
“Yeah, a very good idea,” Leon agreed, pulling himself up and pressing D back into the cushions of the couch. Urgently, he nudged D’s legs more widely apart and unsnapped the button of his fly before dragging the zipper down. Half-mad with need, he dragged D up so that he could stare into the depths of his eyes as he pressed inside.
“Oh, D,” he groaned, dropping his head and pressed gentle kisses along one pale shoulder, “Oh, God, D.” His rhythm never slowed or faltered, though, and throughout it all he held on to D like a lifeline.
D sighed softly in his ear, and wrapped his legs around the small of his back. He cried out Leon's name and his breath snagging in his throat as the first wave of orgasm crashed through him.
Moments later, breath ragged, Leon shuddered above D, too drained to give voice to his own pleasure. He collapsed heavily against him and was still for a long time.
“Leon?” D finally whispered, shifting beneath his still weight.
Mumbling unintelligibly, Leon stirred. When he finally lifted his head to meet D’s inquiring eyes, they were filled with anguish, uncertainty and a touch of fear.
“D,” he whispered in a choked voice, “Something’s wrong. I can feel it.”
“Yes,” D said quietly. “I feel it too.”
Leon nodded miserably, and when, moments later, his tired eyes filled with emotion, D drew his head to his chest, stroked his hair and held him until the storm passed.
***
“Do you want to talk about it?” D asked as he set a cup of steaming tea on the table in front of Leon. His robes were just a little rumpled but otherwise no worse for wear. Leon, on the other hand, looked like he had just dragged himself out of bed after a night of barhopping.
Leon bowed his head, cutting his glance anywhere but at D. He twitched his shoulder, embarrassed. “I don’t know… I don’t even know where to begin.”
“Well, start at the beginning,” D prompted as he sat down in the wing back chair directly across the table from Leon. “And when you get to the end - stop.”
“Ha-ha, funny guy,” Leon growled, “But it’s not that simple.”
“Nothing ever truly is, Detective,” D sighed, bringing his own cup to his lips and taking a small sip.
Silence stretched between them as Leon examined his hands with great interest.
“Hey, I see you got some flowers.” Leon’s gestured toward the roses in an obvious attempt at changing the subject.
“Yes. They’re very beautiful, Leon,” D smiled, “Thank you.”
Leon’s head shot up as he blinked his surprise. “Me? You’re thanking me?”
“Of course, Detective,” D chided, a tiny note of irritation creeping into his voice as he turned to fuss with the blossoms, adjusting them more to his liking, “Who else?”
“How about whoever sent them?”
At these words, D’s spine stiffened. It had not occurred to him that Leon might not have sent the roses, though sending a bouquet of expensive roses was indeed uncharacteristic behavior for the detective. But if they hadn’t been sent by his lover, then who?
Frowning, he picked up the vase, searching for some clue as to who the sender was. Noticing a small note tucked in the blossoms he plucked it up then set the vase back on the table. He scanned the card and his breath caught in his throat when he saw the familiar name seal.
“Well?” Leon asked, now hovering over D’s shoulder. “Who are they from?”
“My father,” D whispered hoarsely, running trembling fingers over the seal. “They’re from my father.”
“Oh, yeah?” Leon craned his head for a better look at the card, though he couldn’t read a word of Chinese. “What does it say?”
“Congratulations.”
Leon peered at the calligraphy, frowning. “That’s a hell of a lot of writing for a simple congrats.”
D found himself mentally cursing Leon’s powers of observation. For a moment he considered ignoring the question, but then, to his surprise, he found himself telling him exactly what the message said, despite his initial reservations. “He would like to speak with me. He even left a telephone number and address where he can be reached.”
“What does he want to talk about?”
“I don’t know, Detective.” This was the truth. And to be honest, he didn’t want to know especially now on top of everything else. His dealings with his father had been few and far between over the years and that was exactly the way he wanted to keep it.
“Well, no big deal.” Leon gave a half-shrug. “Just go find out.”
“It’s not that easy, Detective,” D huffed, feeling suddenly out of sorts. He always did when it came to matters of his family, especially his father.
“Sure it is,” Leon insisted. “Just take that stick out of your ass and go see your old man.”
D’s eyes narrowed dangerously as silence filled the room for a few moments and the only sound in the room was the ticking of one of the grandfather clocks as the two men squared off.
“How dare you.” D hissed angrily. He could feel the hot blood rising, his hands trembling as his anger got the best of him. “You know nothing of my family, of me, of my relationship with that man.”
“Bullshit,” Leon snapped, “I bet dollars to doughnuts that he’s every bit as stubborn and high-handed as you are.” He closed the distance between them in two angry strides and jabbed D in the chest with his finger. “So stop being so fucking pig-headed for once in your goddamned life.”
“My family affairs are none of your concern, Detective Orcot.” The room temperature of the room should have dropped twenty degrees, so cold was his tone.
Silence stretched between them for several heartbeats as they glared. Then, to his surprise, Leon threw up his hands in surrender.
“You’re right, you’re right.” He conceded grudgingly. “I don’t know anything about your relationships with your family. You and your dad have problems. Welcome to the world of parent-child relationships. Hey, I understand, I really do. But that doesn’t mean that the two of you should cut each other out of your lives.”
“I haven’t spoken to my father in years, Detective,” D sighed heavily, all the fight going out of him. “And frankly, I- I don’t know what I would say to him if I did see him.”
Scoffing, Leon wrapped his good arm around him, pulled him close and kissed the top of his head in a gesture suspiciously like affection. D stubbornly resisted the urge to melt into the strong warmth at his back.
“So don’t talk.” Leon whispered into his ear and the moist warmth of his breath made him to shiver in reaction. “Just listen.”
Still frustrated and having difficulty thinking as Leon pressed a line of tiny kisses down the side of his neck, D turned to face the other man.
“You don’t understand-“ He began, but Leon shushed him with a finger to his lips.
“He’s your father, D. I get that.” Leon said, voice and expression serious. “But if I’ve learned anything being a cop, it’s that life is short.” His fingers flowed sensually down D’s chin, his throat, leaving a wash of goosebumps in their wake. And lower still until he pressed the flat of his palm against the rapid beating of his heart. “Unpredictable.”
“Believe it or not,” Leon’s voice was a hoarse rasp, “your dad won’t be around forever. He wants to talk, so talk. There’s no harm in it, is there?”
“You don’t know my father, Detective.” D argued, breathlessly. “You don’t know what he’s capable of.”
“You’re right, I don’t.” Leon conceded. “But it seems to me that he’s extending an olive branch here. So just talk to the guy. If you don’t like what he has to say, you can leave. But at least hear him out.”
“I don’t know if-” But he didn’t have a chance to finish before Leon leaned forward and kissed him, slowly, deeply. D made a soft sound in his throat, but even he wasn’t sure if it was protest or encouragement. As if of their own accord, his arms stole around Leon’s broad back, long nailed fingers scrambling for purchase.
When Leon finally broke away, his lips quirked into a teasing smile. “And I’m the one that’s supposed to be stubborn.” He tsked.
“Oh, Detective…” D groaned plaintively then reached up and gently pulled Leon's head back down, mindful of his injured arm.
Leon’s pager went off suddenly causing both of them to start. “Now what?” Leon mumbled as he fished it out of his pocket. He peered at the tiny screen. “Shit!”
“What is it?”
“Jeez. It’s my old man, he said he’d let me know when his plane landed.” He glanced at his watch and groaned. “I was supposed to be there twenty minutes ago.” Pressing a quick kiss to D’s lips, Leon turned on his heels for the door.
“But, Detective-“
Leon glanced at him over his shoulder, his eyes somber. “Yeah, I know what you’re ging to say and I agree with you one hundred percent. It’s just that-“
He broke off and ran a hand through his already rumpled hair. “Look…” He heaved a heavy sigh and crossed back to D. “We need to talk about,” he waved his hand vaguely in the air, “about whatever is going on. With me… your father. Hell, with us. Figure some of this shit out.”
He lowered his forehead so that it rested on D’s. “I promise. Tonight.”
D looked deep into his eyes, a good cop’s eyes, by times hard, stubborn, but honest. He read the sincerity in that gaze and nodded his head. He couldn’t smile, though. Things, he feared, had progressed beyond that.
“Alright, Detective,” He murmured, “Tonight then.”
TO BE CONTINUED…
A/N: As always constructive criticism is welcomed. And I'm sorry about the long wait.
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♥ ♥ ♥
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It's worth the wait!
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Thanks :D Got it from
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I am hoping that with Q-chan back, D's grandfather will tell him about Leon's little 'problem'.
I mean I know that secrecy and tight-lipness seems to be the usual mode for Sofu D BUT he should realise what is happening with Leon now that he is back and tell D what to expect.
I am wondering though, are the werewolves NOT natural creatures? I ask because while it is true that Count D was able to calm down Leon, I am wondering if it should not have been a bit easier for D. In the manga he is very good at gentling creatures almost instantaneously.
I hope the next update is sooner^^ Thanks
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Yes, werewolves are natural creatures. But Leon isn't in werewolf form... yet. He's still mostly human so I don't think D would be able to control him as he might some other animal. Also, Leon was in a great deal of pain. In PSoH volume 4, Destruction, D was unable to calm Kenshiko, the sabre-toothed cat, because Leon had shot him and he was both in pain and enraged. So it's kind of the same situation here. A hurt and enraged animal is harder to control.
I'll try to update in a more timely manner, but I just used the last of my vacation (I go back tomorrow) and as I work two jobs, I usually work 70-75 hours a week. I'll do my best, but I can't make any promises.
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Yow that's alot! I hope they are both jobs you love (or at least one is)
I work 35 hours too much a week LOL (high stress job)
It wasn't a demand though hon, you take your time. Once you are updating, I dont mind the wait :)
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