The first time Aster saw him, it was the beginning of the winter.
Aster had been in a rush to get home. He had things to do. Tooth had talked him into a commission of painting he didn't like doing. But, he needed the money. And with this final butch of paintings, he could live how he wanted and not worry about being stable financially.
Aster was waiting at the bus stop, which was not ideal in the cold temperatures. The painter liked the warm seasons better. Spring being his favorite. He would paint eggs for the local orphanage. It brought joy to him to see the hope-filled eyes of the children as they found the eggs. Aster liked bringing hope to the children who had lost it themselves.
He breathed out a sigh, filling the cold air with the warm, water vapor from his lungs caused his breath to come out as fog. Aster wrapped his fur coat around himself, keeping in whatever warmth that tried to escape through the gaps at the bottom of the jacket. He shivered. Where in the hell was the city bus?
Beside Aster, the only other thing with him in the cold was the bus stop in itself. It was just a pole with the generic off shade of blue sign, stating that this was indeed the bus stop that he needed to be at. He looked around the lonely street. Had he missed the bus?
Aster sighed. He really didn't want to wander down that road. If he missed the bus, he would have to wait for another hour before the next one came to pick him up. He would have to wait outside, in the cold.
Aster looked down the street again. He couldn't have missed the bus. The bus came precisely at the top of the hour, every hour. He had finished his work for the day, stopping ten minutes till, like usual. He said good-bye to some of the other painters that shared his studio. North had patted his back with a strong hand, sending Aster on his way with a sore shoulder.
Aster rolled his shoulders, feeling a spike of pain as he did the motion. North really needed to refrain from causing him pain. He had things to do. Money to make. If he got an injury, he would lose time. And if he lost time, he would lose money because time is money. No matter how you looked at it.
Aster thought about it, again. Because of the cold weather, could they have stopped the city buses, tonight? Early? He shivered at the thought. He would have to stay on this side of town. For a night? That would not do at all. Aster wouldn't get any sleep in a dingy motel room. The light from the annoying neon sign would most likely stay on all night long, and then the sheets would not keep in the warmth he needs to fall into a dreamless sleep. He would most likely have a nightmare, just about the condition of the room. So, don't get his imagination started on the food he would have to eat for breakfast.
Aster gagged and shivered again. Was it just him or was it getting colder? Must be all of his negative thoughts. He brought his hands up to his mouth and blew a hot breath on them. He rubbed his hands together and repeated the motion. Why did he have to forget his mittens, today? They were safely tucked away somewhere, in his warm house, while he was stuck in the cold. So unfair.
Aster sighed before he checked his watch. It was ten minutes after the hour and still no sign of the bus. He sighed in defeat, shoving his hands into the front pockets of his fur coat. Looks like he'll have to wait for the next bus or he would have to walk home. Oh fun.
Aster pulled the fur of his coat closer to his neck. Why did it have to be so cold? It's the middle of December. It should not be this cold. The weatherman had said there would be no snow, today. So, low forties were fine. But in the thirties! And the windchill makes it even worse, being in the twenties. He shivered and sneezed. God was punishing him. That had to be it.
Aster walked to the street corner. There was an alley here, if he wasn't mistaken. It could shield him until the bus came to get him or he froze to death, whichever came first. He could called North or Tooth to came and pick him up. He blanched at the idea. He would not interrupted them, not after last time. An angry North he could handle, but an angry Tooth. Not on your Nelly. There is a reason why people call her Tooth, and he did not want to be another reason on her always growing list.
Once in the alley, Aster hummed in content. The cruel wind was not stinging his face and cooling his exposed skin any longer. He hugged his arms around himself. His back did not touch the brick wall behind him. He knew what would happen if he did.
Thermodynamics, a voice said in his head. According to the second law, heat transfers from the 'hotter' object to the 'colder' object. The heat transfers between the objects until the they reach equilibrium. Heat is an energy that is transferred through convection, conduction, and/or radiation. There is no such thing as 'cold'. You just lack heat.
Aster snorted. That was a weird concept to wrap his mind around. He wasn't cold, he just lack the energy to kept him warm. And he knew what would happen if he touched the bricks. All of the heat in his body would be stolen by the wall and he would never get it all back.
And that's how you get hypothermia, the voice continued. All of the heat energy that is in your body is transferred into the snow that you are laying on. It melts the snow, changing the state of the snow from solid to liquid. Your body and the 'cold' snow and surrounding air take what little heat your body makes to try to reach equilibrium. Since the system is a long surface area, you would die before you reached that point. So, no skinny dipping in the winter. I mean it!
Aster laughed at the thought of his little chemistry teacher. God, he does not remember her name, but he remembers her strong and down-right authoritative presence. She was tiny. Her voice was loud. She was cranky, but she got down to the point and had most people to remember things by telling some sort of story. Aster had been in that GenEd by mistake. Or, at least, that is what the consular had said. Until Aster could transfer classes, he would have to deal with getting up early so he could make it to her eight a.m. class.
That had to have been the worst and best class of his freshman year. Don't get him wrong. He still liked all of his classes. It's just, that chem teacher knew how to make chemistry fun. For even the people who didn't need to be there. She had fun while teaching. She was a feet.
Aster sneezed. He looked at his watch again. A quarter after the hour. He wanted to go home before he was turned into a popsicle. Aster tried to swallow. He gagged. He already had post-nasal drip. He needed to go home before he get sick. Well, before he got any sicker.
Aster jammed his hand back into his pocket and raised his head. He started a staring match with the matching brick wall across from him. He didn't win, of course. Seeing as he was the only one with eyes, but it was something to pass the time. After the walls third consecutive win, a blur of white caught in his peripheral vision.
Aster turned his head toward the source. He had thought it would be some homeless old guy. There were a lot around here. It was really sad.
But, no. The white flash was not a homeless person. It was a boy; because Aster really could not confidently called him a man. He looked way too young. His lengthy body was surrounded by a blanket of pure white fake fur. Aster could not figure out how the boy had gotten in the alley without alerting him before hand.
The boy ran passed Aster, out of the alley. As he passed Aster, the painter could make out what the boy was wearing, or for the lack thereof. He was in washed out blue jean short-shorts that were over white leggings. His mid-drift was bare; the white crop-top he wore showed off one of his creamy shoulders. Blue graffiti crawled up his side in the shape of snowflakes. A necklace hit his chest with every step as he beat upon the ground with bare feet. His head of hair as white as the fake fur that dropped around his shoulders. He was on a mission, it seemed.
He rounded the corner of the alley and shot out of site. Aster looked around the corner, but the boy was gone. Like he wasn't even there. Had he imagined him?
A bus horn caused Aster to look at the bus stop. The city bus was waiting for him. He came out of the alley and booked it down the street to the stop. When he got there, he was panting. He was so out of shape. The bus driver smiled down at him as he let Aster on the bus.
The warmth of the inside of the bus welcomed him like an old friend. The radio the bus driver plays contently, softly sang Christmas carols. The bus driver sheepishly smiled up at Aster as he passed and took his normal seat next to the window, all the way in the back.
Aster leaned back into his bus seat. He tried to relax but something about that kid didn't sit well with him. He sighed. Or he could have hallucinated the entire thing? Could he have? Aster shook his head. He wasn't going to get an answer anytime soon.
The radio lulled, Chestnuts roasting on an open fire. Jack Frost nippin' at your noseā¦
Aster sat up a little. He knew this song. It was a classic, according to North, anyway. It was by Nat King Cole, with several remakes. It even had a generic name. The Christmas Song. Like it was the only Christmas song that matters.
Aster huffed. He was what you call a 'Scrooge'. Not that he hates the holiday or anything. He has nothing against the holiday. Why he was upset had nothing to do with the holiday. It is just, North thinks that Christmas is more important than Easter. And, he is wrong. So wrong. It isn't even funny.
Around this time of year, North and Aster get into it. It is a friendly spat that most of the time gets escalated until Aster leaves by slamming the door into North's laughing face. Mean words are exchanged, sure. A punch or two, yep, you bet. But bad mouthing. That wasn't aloud. North is Aster's mate or whatever, and nobody, no matter how close they are to Aster, got to bad mouth Easter. Nobody.
Aster sighed. He was a real Debbie Downer, as Tooth had put it. She usually just sat back and watched as North and Aster went at it. But, after one really bad spat, a harsh exchange of words, and the slamming of multiple doors, she had realized that this stupid, immature agreement, if you could even call it that, had to stop.
No holiday is more important than the other. Tooth had stated once she had gotten North and Aster to meet with a truce. All holidays are created equal and hold the same importance as any other holiday. Now, either you stop acting like children or I will make you both my dress-up dolls for the next project in Fashion Design. Do you understand me?
Now, Aster and North just joke about the holidays. Because that is all they can do, under Tooth's watchful eye and unclaimed treat. Aster shuttered. He did not want to be anyone's dress-up doll. Especially Tooth's. She wore things that only looked good on her, and would never look good on anyone else. Neon and feathers. Nope, Aster won't touch that with a ten foot pole, in this millennia or the next, for that matter.
Aster sighed. His breath fogged up the window he was next to. He liked sitting by the window. He could look outside when the bus people bored him. He only rode the bus when he had to. Which was most of the time, but he sometimes got help from North.
Aster shuttered. He really did not like that car North had. He could not tell you why, but he just does not like it. However, it might not even be the car. Anytime North got behind the wheel, Aster found himself holding on for dear life and chanting pleas to let him live.
The bus slowed to a stop. Aster looked out the window. It was his stop. He got up and walked to the front of the bus. He thanked the driver as he was let off and jogged toward his house.
His house wasn't really a house. Well, it was, kind of. It was the penthouse of the major hotel in the city. Aster was welcomed by the doorman. A simple tip of the hat and he was throw the door, and into the warmth.
Aster sighed. He had been doing that a lot lately. Maybe he was tired and had imagined the mysterious boy. He walked into the lobby and toward the elevator. He was almost home free.
Aster hit the up arrow and it glowed green, indicating the direction he wanted. He waited, tapping his foot impatiently to the Nightcore version of Jingle Bells that played over the intercom in the lobby. No. It wasn't the Nightcore version. It was the Chipmunks version. Same difference.
Ding.
Aster sighed. Final. He was home free. He got into the elevator, tipping his head in greeting to the elevator man. En-turn, the employee pushed the button for Aster's floor. It glowed off-white as the doors closed. The elevator then, started its long ascent.
The corny elevator music was replaced by the instrumentals of all of the Christmas songs known to man. The elevator man hummed along to an unnamed one, standing perfectly still at attention. Aster always wondered if all elevator people were trained to be military stiff or if they were just meant to be unseen and unheard. But it wasn't like anyone could miss him. He wore the uniform of the elevator employee: forest green toy soldier suit with gold fringe and accents; blacks slacks and black polished shoes. His forest green with gold embroidery held tight to the side of his head by a black chin strap. He looked like a Christmas toy soldier reject. It wasn't his fault, though. Whoever had the idea of having the Hotel's main color scheme be forest green, gold, and black needed to be fired.
Aster looked up at the little screen that showed the floor as the elevator passed it. It illuminated the floor number in fluorescent green. It looked like he still had a long ways to go. The elevator employee started to hum along with the next song that came on. It must be hard. Listen to the same five carols on loop. Aster would go crazy. It's a Small World crazy.
The employee never seemed to mind though. And, he probably knew all of the latest gossip. He was just so tight lipped about it. Aster would try to strike up a conversation and the elevator man would just stand there. Not moving a single inch. He had to be one of the Buckingham's Palace Guards. Those guys don't flint at anything, let alone smile.
Aster checked the screen again and regretted it. The elevator hadn't even moved ten floors since he last looked. Not like he noticed. The elevator was a pretty smooth ride, up or down. It wasn't one of those glitchy, stops-at-every-floor, your-stomach-is-at-your-feet-even-though-it-really-didn't-move elevators.
And Aster liked that about the elevator. It showed, too, in his midsection. He needed to start working out again. He had a body to maintain and horrible Christmas concoctions were just around the corner. North always throw an elaborate party to celebrate the start of the season. It always had all of the Christmas foods that should be on the Naughty list and some Aster could not even name.
Aster sighed. He really wanted to go to bed. He was so tired. He was physically drained from what he had been painting. He'd pride himself in his work. It was beautiful. The strokes of paint made the image look realistic. And that's what he was going for. Realistic. He couldn't do the portrait of Mr. Whiskers as an abstract. Mr. Whiskers' owner would not have it. She wanted her baby to be 'all dolled up and pretty' over the fireplace.
Aster winced. He would have to stare at that ugly dog for the next few days. Not that he had anything against the creature. The canine just looked like it was fresh out of a B-rated horror movie. It was disgusting. And what made it worse was that dog had more care than some humans on the sketchy side of town.
Aster gagged. Why did he have to listen to Tooth when she had a new job for him to do. Ahh, yes. It was because Tooth was his friend and also the girlfriend of one of the other painters and one of Aster's dearest friends: North. He was basically at the mercy of that woman. She would diseve North and Aster when they were children, a lot.
Aster laughed to himself. He only got an eyebrow raise out of the employee, but that did not matter. He could remember like it was yesterday, when Tooth and North got together. It had all started with a dare. They had been at Aster's house - him, North, and Tooth - and Tooth has been talking about how she had never had a boyfriend. She had looked at both boys and spilled all of her insecurities.
And, apparently, I'm meant to spent the rest if my life in solitude. No guy has showed any type of interest in me, let alone spared me a glance. So, that's fine. I'll just turn into one of those crazy bird-ladies. Nothing to worry about.
As Tooth concluded, Aster looked at North from the corner of his eyes. He had known that his Russian friend was, in fact, head over heels in love with Tooth. He had known even before North had noticed it himself. Aster saw the conflicting emotions flash across North's face so fast, he thought he imagined most of them.
After Tooth decompressed, she said she needed to leave. A change of scenery may make her mood bounce back into its positivity. As she left, a flustered North followed after her, complaining about letting a girl walk home alone, in the dark being something from horror movies. He would accompany her to her residence.
And, the rest was history. He never got the full story out of either of them, but it was their business, after all. He was just happy that his friends were happy. And together. Something Aster wanted so much. With Aster's crazy work schedule, he couldn't meet anyone new at a gay bar, or even go in for that matter. He hasn't set foot inside of one in so many months, it started to feel like years.
Maybe that was why he couldn't focus on his work, recently. He needed release. One night to rut someone into a mattress. He would feel so fresh in the morning after. His muscles over used to bring pleasure to the person he would fuck. The best pleasure. He would lie back with his arms crossed beneath his head, reminiscing the night and things devoted to his memory. Their scent. Their body. Their voice. Everything and anything that would allow him to get off the next few times without having to see them. Perfect.
Ding.
The elevator doors opened. He was on his floor. He thanked the employee, inclining his head in a slight nod. The employee bowed in return. Aster stepped out of the elevator and walked the short distance to his door. He heard the elevator doors shut as he produced his keycard. The painter swiped the keycard in the scanner, waiting for the green light that meant his could open his door.
The scanner beeped and a green light flashed in three vertical bars on the handle of the door. Aster turned the knob and entered his humble abode. Which, really all that humble at all. It wasn't flashy, but it did scream that the painter had more money than he knew what to do with.
Which was almost true. Aster came from a family of old money. He inherited the fortune when he was fourteen. His parents and siblings went out just for a drive. He didn't want to go. Something about painting outside. Well, while he was painting the meadow, a driver of a cement truck fell asleep at the wheel. Aster had put two and two together. None of his family stood a of his family went out peacefully, dying on impact or at the seen. Those who survived lived with complications that had them meeting the rest of his family a few months later.
He was the last Bunnymand heir. Well, the last sane one. Aster had a few cousins in lock up and some crazy uncles in the looney bin. But, for the most part, it was him against the world.
The painter deposited the painting supplies he brought home, and took off his coat, hanging it in the closet next to the door. He kicked his shoes off as he let out a lazy yawn and scratched his abdomen. Upon entering his room, he stripped out of all of his clothes and slid into the silk sheets that adorn his round bed.
"Lights off."
He snuggled into the warm embrace and gave the voice command to shut the light off. As Aster drifted off to sleep, one image plagued his thoughts. The boy. Whether he was a ghost or not, that would be decided later. Right now, he was too gorgeous to let go. So, Aster used that image. He'll probably regret it later, but he needed something to dream about. And fulfill his dirty fantasies. And ghost boy was the perfect candidate.
Author's Note: Hello, my pretties~ I'm in the middle of writing another chapter for TDF. So, have this instead. *throws glitter* Hope you enjoyed this as much as I had fun writing this! See you later! *waves*
P.S.: Brownie points to people who review!
