A/N: Halloween is my favorite holiday, and yet I always struggle for fic ideas. This year, I thought I'd suffer again. But then I decided to simply build off my fic from last Halloween.
I suppose background isn't necessary, but I'll outline briefly: The entire gang was at a Halloween party/dance type thing, and for whatever reason I made Dearka the star of the show. Everyone pretty much went about their usual antics, but with a holiday flair. The original story is called "The Halloween Gala," and it's still up if you'd like to read it. (Especially if you want to see what I ended up dressing them as.)
But that old fic was a typical SEED-type affair. I read it over and found the spot at the end where I joked about having Yzak and Dearka drunk and making out (the punch had been spiked), and I realized that this should be the year to indulge myself (and everybody else). Hence… we have the missing piece of that old story, the counterpart, the behind-the-scenes, the re-write of everything… YAOI STYLE.
I think I'll let you read now.
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Dearka snickered. Well, what was he supposed to do? His best friend was standing before him, ice blue eyes narrowed and accusing, singling him out with a flash of rage. He knew he ought not to have laughed. But the sight was just so funny!
"Is that eyeliner on you, Yzak Joule?" the blonde inquired, struggling not to choke on his orange pumpkin cookie as he fought to keep his face from cracking with a grin.
"That's right Elsman, it's eyeliner." The pale youth glared at him, daring him to make something of the remark. "Don't think I'm one to half-ass my outfit. If I'm gonna dress up, I'm gonna make every detail count."
Dearka caught a glimpse of Cagalli from the corner of his eye, then Lacus as the songstress brought a delicate hand to her mouth in what he decided must have been polite shock. His violet gaze strayed back to the Duel pilot in front of him, and he instantly concurred that his friend had indeed managed to pull off the part.
The ballroom lights flickered and pulsed in time to the music, casting shadows that the silver-haired boy seemed to melt in and out of as he remained rooted there. The skin-tight black T-shirt complemented his muscled stomach and smooth chest, while his equally snug leather pants drew attention to the contours of his hips and waist, where a studded belt was clasped. The dark ensemble worked wonders for accentuating the creamy tone of the Coordinator's white skin, and the harsh contrast made him stand out.
"Find something amusing, Zala?" Yzak at once demanded of a bent-over Athrun, who was leaning on Kira Yamato and laughing helplessly. The ZAFT soldier took a menacing step forward in his thickly treaded black boots, while the swirling lights caught his spiked necklace and caused the metal to glint dangerously. Dearka watched the humorous exchange, a thin line of amusement adorning his lips.
"No more making fun of him," came a female voice from behind the scowling Yzak. It was Miriallia. "I'm the one who dressed him."
Ah, so that was what it had been about. Dearka's grin grew wider as he recalled the secrecy that had floated over his head the entire week. His best friend had refused to divulge ahead of time what his costume would be, and Miriallia had kept her lips faithfully sealed as well. No matter. The Duel pilot, though clearly miffed, had made quite an impression with his appetizing choice of dress.
The others had already exchanged light words of banter and dispersed. Only when his surroundings went silent did the tanned youth realize he'd been turned inward for too long.
"Are you going to stare at me forever?" came the familiar snarl of the boy across from him as he was jerked out of his reverie. "And by the way, your cape is coming undone."
The blonde immediately reached up to tighten the clasp at his throat. "If you insult me again," he said as he arranged the antique brooch and adjusted his high collar, "I'll have to bite you."
Yzak only crossed his arms over his narrow chest and smirked. "You look generic, Elsman."
Dearka glanced curiously down at his black suit for confirmation, running his hands over the red velvet that lined the long cape he sported atop it. "Maybe so, but it's a hot generic." His fingers combed through his slicked back hair to illustrate his point, and the corresponding smile revealed a glimpse of fangs. Special fang implants that were supposed to last a week, he might add.
To his great surprise, the Duel pilot's thin lips quirked into a sort of smug half-smile. "You clean up well I suppose, you useless dolt. At least you look authentic enough to make me cringe with those stupid teeth."
Well, if that was the game the pale boy wanted to play…
"Don't lie," Dearka retaliated in a smooth undertone, bringing his face perilously close to that of his adversary, "You want these teeth in your neck right now, don't you?" He watched in satisfaction as the opposite male flushed in fury. With a triumphant wink, the tanned youth pivoted on his heel to exit and locate the others.
It wasn't long before he'd pressed the matter of the all-too-tantalizing Duel pilot from his mind. How he lived for Halloween! The dim ballroom and the solemn orchestral harmonies that drifted from the high speakers sent a surge of excitement through him. Costumes of all colors and styles peppered the dance floor as bodies twisted and contracted, moving distortedly for the spooky occasion. Athrun and Cagalli were dancing, and he harassed them with a loud catcall. He waved to Kira and Lacus, then swept Miriallia off her feet and into a dip before whispering seductively next to her ear in his Transylvanian accent.
Clearly, there was no better time of year. He winked at a group of assorted females, and they squealed and averted their eyes in embarrassment.
When there arrived a lull in the haunting music, the blonde straightened his billowing cape and headed for the vacant punch table. He was not surprised to find Yzak positioned near it, leaning casually against the wall with a glass of the red liquid held aloft in one hand, while he observed the chaos with a critical eye.
Dearka crept up to him, but let out a mocking laugh before he could stop himself. The silver-haired youth whirled around, alert.
"Elsman."
"Not very social tonight, are you?"
Yzak scowled. "I hate parties. You know that."
Dearka made a small, disapproving sound and only swiped the punch glass from his companion's hand. "I thought maybe Halloween could remedy that affliction," he stated after draining the ruby liquid in its entirety. Then his lips curved into a crescent of mischievous glee. "Or maybe a vampire's kiss can rouse you instead."
The pale boy sputtered something unintelligible, cursing and diving for his empty glass. Dearka sidestepped and dodged with ease, tossing the item back to its owner only after the fuming male had returned to a state of mild ease.
"Somebody's spiked it," the blonde announced, eyeing the not-so-innocent punch bowl with a cool indifference. Then he wrinkled his nose. "Somebody's spiked it a lot. I'll bet it was Yamato." He shook his head, scanning the room playfully for said Strike pilot. At last, catching the brunette's eye, he gesticulated wildly until he succeeded in frustrating the distant Coordinator with his meaningless movements.
"Stop messing around, will you?" Yzak fumed, slamming his glass down on the tabletop in annoyance. "Shut up and tell me if the punch is really..."
Dearka regarded his anxious friend nonchalantly. "I was serious," he informed him, fixing his violet gaze on that of his unsuspecting companion. "You mean you couldn't taste it? It's there all right."
"You're kidding," the silver-haired youth grumbled, eyeing his empty cup with suspicion. "That was my third glass, at least."
"Is that so?" Dearka answered, throwing an arm about his friend's shoulder and whispering into his ear. "Careful not to make a fool of yourself. You have no idea what might happen now."
"Gee," the other Coordinator shot sarcastically, "It's not like Elsman wants to see me make a fool of myself or anything."
"That's the spirit," Dearka clapped him on the back and took off, pretending not to hear the aggravated curse that was directed at him as he retreated.
Of course, it wasn't long before he was proven correct in his predictions.
He and the others had been forced to acknowledge the status of the black-clad youth when his actions on the dance floor become graphic. The pale ZAFT soldier rocked and gyrated, stumbling every so often, as he had a good four of five costumed girls latched to him like leeches. Lacus and Cagalli weren't quite sure what to make of his dancing endeavors. Athrun and Kira had been reduced to guffawing twin puddles on the floor. Dearka had only flashed his entertained compatriots with a shot of his fanged teeth as he grinned in conquest, admitting that just moments ago he'd put the silver-haired male up to it.
For a while, Dearka was content with drinking in every toss of his friend's shimmering silver hair, every subtle movement of his hips. Then Yzak swayed dangerously, and at once the observing Coordinator realized that perhaps he'd let the amusement carry on for too long.
"I'm going to pull him out of there for a bit," the blonde broadcasted, slipping by a giggling Miriallia and into the throng of dancing bodies. "Don't wait for me."
He pushed his way into the writhing mass and closed his fingers around the tipsy boy's left wrist. The contact barely seemed to register in the Duel pilot's blurred mind. He kept on dancing, though the girls that surrounded him stepped dutifully aside to make room for the tanned vampire.
"Yzak," Dearka called, tugging lightly at the wrist that he currently held on to. The black-clad male fell into him in his haste to turn around.
"What is it, Elsman?" he grumbled. "Let go of me."
Dearka's response was teasing and sardonic, despite the surprise he experienced upon noting his companion's lack of a drunken slur. "Is it the punch that's made you dizzy or is it my natural charm?"
"Shut up." But the pale youth complied readily as he was led off the dance floor and out of the ballroom.
They stopped in the grand foyer, where holiday streamers hung draped from the high ceilings.
"How drunk are you, anyway?" the blonde inquired with a curious quirk of his eyebrow.
Yzak's confusion was paramount. "Who said anything about me being drunk?"
It figured. Dearka rolled his violet eyes and led them off into a vacant side hallway. The doorman had confiscated Athrun's pirate sword upon their entrance. The last thing their group needed was to have the night ruined with the discovery of an Yzak who wouldn't even admit he was intoxicated, on top of everything else.
"And you're taking me where?" the pale boy demanded as they finally halted, far from the pulsating tempo of the music and the glitter of muted lights.
"To somewhere abandoned so I can feast on your blood," Dearka responded, monitoring his partner for any sign of a reaction. The opposite male merely folded his arms and reclined with one foot up against the wall behind him.
"Funny, Elsman." But his icy eyes flickered slightly.
"Not scared?"
His quarry snorted. "Vampires don't scare me," Yzak scoffed, "Especially not the pathetic ones that are out to seduce any living thing that moves."
"Jealous, are you?"
Flawless features went sour as the pale soldier retaliated with a query of his own. "Did you expect me to be?"
Dearka offered no reply. Just how drunk was his best friend, anyway? He certainly seemed together enough to rattle off his usual snide remarks.
The silver-haired youth crossed his legs neatly at his ankles, pinning the male opposite him to his spot with a confident, unwavering blue stare. "If you want to know whether I'm drunk enough to stop you if you try anything," he retorted coolly, reading his friend's mind with a shrewd toss of his head, "Then don't bother asking."
Dearka blinked. "Why?"
The Duel pilot let out a breath of air in irritation. "Because I don't even know the answer to that at this point, you idiot. Blame the punch."
Well then. Dearka remained mute, searching for signs of trickery, but none followed. With an inward grin, he supposed Yzak was inescapably drunk, seeing as he'd admitted to being unsure about something. Still, the blue eyes that scrutinized him from across the hall were perfectly clear. The blonde himself wasn't terribly familiar with the effects of alcohol on Coordinators, but he decided he had nothing to lose in his current assumptions. It hurt nothing to take a risk. The tanned male swore to thank the punch later.
"Hah," Yzak smirked, "You bastard. As I suspected, you're up to something." His gaze was triumphant.
"Now why do I get the feeling that makes you happy?" the blonde questioned promptly, a bit taken aback.
"You expected me to put up with your teasing all night and then just walk off?" He awarded the astonished blonde with a cool, 'I'm waiting' expression.
Dearka's violet eyes flew wide, and for once he lacked a quick retaliation. "Actually, Joule, all I really wanted to do was bite you." His lips formed a smile halfway through the sentence.
His spine tingled as he absorbed the image of the tantalizing body before him. He might as well play his vampire role with gusto and humor the drunken boy. With a start, the blonde concluded that he must have been a bit more buzzed himself than he'd previously anticipated. Hmm. Well, the hell with it. He saw the realization of his new conclusion cross his partner's face.
"You were going to do what? Bite me." Yzak's echo of his prior words came out more like a statement than a question or a command.
Dearka moved forward. "Yeah, bite you. That was what I'd intended, just to piss you off," he informed the male opposite him. "Sort of something sinister like this…"
He noted Yzak's sudden intake of breath as he wrapped a strong arm around the boy's thin waist. Quick, skilled fingers unclasped the spiked necklace that stood in his way, and the decoration dropped to the floor as the tanned youth dipped his partner into a slow backward tilt. Violet eyes met blue ones. The blonde felt a jolt of unforeseen pleasure course through him in the fleeting pause that ensued, and it spurred his act onward.
"Let me take your blood with a vampire's kiss," let out Dearka in a low stage whisper, and Yzak shivered as warm, subtle lips were pressed to the bare skin of his neck. There followed a slight prick of teeth as the blonde Coordinator teased the skin with his fangs, feeling the pulse of Yzak's rapidly fluttering heart through the tender spot on his exposed flesh.
The pale youth was flushed when Dearka finally let him up. In fact, the opposite soldier seemed vaguely mesmerized with the effects of the sensation, though it was clearly to his own characteristic annoyance. He struggled for words, no doubt a weak attempt at scolding the blonde for his brash move, but no words came.
Dearka watched him. That was really all he'd intended to do. Then again, he could feel his own heartbeat quicken as his insides curled with desire, and he didn't give his next decision a second thought.
He pinned the slender figure against the wall in one swift motion, holding both his wrists in one hand so the smaller male's arms were trapped above his head. His other hand came down to find his partner's waist, and he slipped his fingers just beneath the waistline of those tight, tantalizing pants, drawing Yzak forward by the hips until they stood pressed against each other. His mind fought for control the moment he realized he had also pressed his lips over those of the other, but his body responded with the warmth of spreading, languid pleasure and held him helplessly captive.
Yzak let out a low moan as firm, commanding lips melded with his. His eyes closed, and he slipped an arm free of the blonde's hold to press his hand against the chest that was so close to him. Dearka drew away reluctantly.
The silver-haired youth was breathing hard. "You've lost your senses, Elsman, do you realize that?" The words were a whisper of warning.
A cheeky smile. "So what? It's Halloween."
A flicker of surprise registered on the other boy's face, but only for an instant before it was replaced with a typical sneer. "I should have known you'd come up with some stupid excuse."
"Is it a better excuse if I say you're suddenly turning me on?" His urge to sinfully seduce the pale youth even further was expanding by the seconds.
"Shut up and kiss me again, you bastard."
The blonde needed no second bidding. He seized the sumptuous lips that were so soft and pliant, working them with his own as his lust took over. His fingers slipped through reams of silver hair as Yzak allowed his aggressive tongue inside. Dearka took full command of the desirable cavern of his partner's mouth, feeling the shudder of pleasure that shook Yzak as the boy's own tongue came in contact with his fangs. He bit down lightly, teasingly, carrying them both away with a burst of wanton heat that frenzied their senses. Yzak was caught, trapped between the wall and Dearka's hips, and the pressure and friction that built between them only spurred their lust forward.
"Dearka…" Yzak moaned in delight as the blonde's free hand pressed against his midsection, exploring the contours of his body beneath the material of his fitted black T-shirt.
The entranced blonde responded with a corresponding step forward, forcing them closer together with a dangerous thrust of his hips that created a desperate friction between them. The delicious motion was rewarding. He felt Yzak's hands grip his shoulders tighter, and he deepened their already sinful kiss, caressing every corner of his partner's mouth while taking pleasure in the way the smaller male shifted in satisfaction.
"Mm… We're so drunk. I should stop," Dearka ventured at once, blinking back shock as he realized he'd like nothing more than to ditch their graceful Halloween gala to take the Duel pilot directly to the bed.
"You started it, idiot," Yzak muttered, gasping in desire as Dearka set to kissing a hot trail along his neck and collarbone, biting playfully as he went.
No. He had definitely been instigated by a too-seductive someone in black leather.
The aroused Duel pilot twisted his slender fingers into his partner's flaxen locks as Dearka continued to assault his neck.
"Halloween is my favorite holiday," the blonde argued from around his work as the other male let out a low sound of satisfaction.
"Lame excuse, idiot."
There came another snicker. "You just want to hear me say how fucking gorgeous you are again, is that it?"
"I'm going to kill you for that remark, Elsman," the silver-haired soldier threatened in reply, though it sounded less than genuine, seeping like a sigh from his pleasure-weakened lips. "Whenever you're done with me, that is." But there was a hint of a reluctant acceptance in his tone.
"Just think," the blonde grinned, mischief apparent on his handsome features, "Vampires are nocturnal, so I could make this go on for a while."
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A/N: Well then. This had a slightly different feel. Usually I write from Yzak's POV, but I made Dearka the star of Halloween once again. I dunno, he just makes such a good culprit.
A little secret? I didn't like writing in the vampire factor. I mean, sure Dearka makes a good vampire, but I didn't like factoring that in when they got into all that yummy action. I dunno why. But clearly I couldn't just ignore the fangs and such, so I had to put it in… It made it feel like I was writing some odd AU instead of my usual SEED fanfiction, though.
To those of you who remember my Halloween story from last year, how'd you like this rendition? I'm curious. I included some direct lines from that version in this one. And also, if you've been around long enough that you remember my old Halloween fic, drop me a line! I want to thank you for sticking around for so long (A year, a whole year!) and express my gratitude.
Dang, this fic had a long author commentary. xP