Curse of the Mistletoe
Chapter One: The Break in
Dakota Fields is covered with a thick blanket of snow, blindingly white, the night is quiet. The air quiet and crisp as animals hide in their shelters and people are tucked into bed. The children eager for the morning to arrive. It's Christmas eve, and everyone is lightly asleep. Of course, not everyone is asleep. Virgil gets a phone call from Richie about backpack picking up a police alert about a couple of break ins. Richie called because the houses were near his friend's house. Lazily, the hero changes, slowly waking up, ready to pummel the soulless bastard who would steal on a holiday.
A man rummages through a house that isn't his, looking for anything of value. "They have to have a safe or something'. This is the good side of this damn town" the man mutters to himself. "Makes me sick." He finds a desk, one of the drawers have a key hole. He pulls it, locked. "Of course it's locked…" Feeling like an idiot for thinking it would be unlocked, even for a second, the red head burns the sides of the wood, pulling the drawer out. Quickly, he looks through papers. "Papers…papers…C'mon…" Anger and frustration fills the man. "Even bastards on my street have cash…or something fuckin' useful." Giving up on the desk, the thug tosses the papers onto the surface of the clean desk. "This house is a fuckin' bust…" Walking into the living room, the cold man sits on the couch. "$200...guess that'll have to do…man…" The redhead sighs. Mind as well warm up…it's cold as hell outside…
Surfing through the peaceful night, Static yawns, the cold waking him up. After a couple minutes, a house with an open door catches his attention. Shaking himself fully awake, Static moves forward. He hops off his disc, walking through the carelessly open door. I can't catch a break…even on Christmas…The hero catches life in the living room. HotStreak. "Even I thought you were better than this Francis…It's Christmas for Christ's sake…"
Mumbling, HotStreak munches on a cookie he had found while snooping around the kitchen. "I'm not hurting anyone or burning any houses down." Green eyes flash towards the dark toned man. "Besides, they can afford to lose a couple bucks."
Disgust fills Static. "You're horrible. Exactly how much is a couple bucks?"
"$200 total from all the houses I've hit…" the man pulls out another cookie.
"That's more than a couple bucks…You are positively the most selfish person I've ever met."
"I left their damn jewelry behind."
"Look at you. You're acting like you own the place. Don't you have any decency?" Static was disgusted by this man. He had no morals or self control. He should never have been let out of jail. Never. He is further agitated when the man shrugs his shoulders. "What the hell is your problem?" Static growls. "And don't give me that 'I have issues' bull either."
"I don't have a 'problem.'
Though issues…
"I'm just cold and hungry Spark Plug…okay?" the man really didn't feel much like fighting tonight. He had a looong day.
"You don't need $200 for food tonight. That amount is just plain selfish…"
"……I can't rob people when they're home…"
"You shouldn't rob people at all!"
The other man stands up quickly, matching the hero's death glare. "Like these people will notice a couple bucks."
Anger flashes in Static's brown eyes, managing a few sparks as he blinks. "$10 is a couple of bucks. $15 is a couple of bucks. $200 is not a couple bucks."
"It'll keep me fed for a while." A desperate look bleeds through HotStreak's face as he tries not to tell the hero why he really needed the money.
"It's called getting a damn job."
"I have one but it's winter." Looking down, Francis knows this won't end good. Not in his favor at least. Not this time.
"What's that have to do with it?"
"No one fucks a hooker when there's snow on the ground. They don't take you home." Trying to avoid conversation, HotStreak walks off into the kitchen, hoping to con the hero in letting him have a little food.
Processing the two sentences given, Virgil makes the connection, and he isn't happy about it. "Being a hooker doesn't count as a job." He follows the man into the marble modeled kitchen.
"It's a profession."
"It's illegal and immoral. It just means that you are too damn lazy to actually work and get a real job." Static had always hated HotStreak, but not as much as Virgil hated Francis. As Virgil, he was defenseless.
"I get fired from every fuckin' job…no one will hire me now anyway." Opening the fridge, Francis looks for something to eat, the though of food was both wonderful and sickening. But the man knew he would have to eat soon, or he'll end up starving to death because he was too stubborn to go to a clinic.
"Get out of that fridge!" Static slams it shut, startling the red head.
"Calm down damn it…I'm gonna leave soon anyway…" Like he had thought, this won't end good.
"Yeah, and you're goin back to jail where you belong." Pure anger and hatred rides in Static's voice. He had better things to do than baby-sit whores…like sleep.
"? At least let me eat…I…"HotStreak could feel his pride falling fast. "This isn't very fair. I don't eat for eight days and I get hauled off to jail? Some fucked up justice system you enforce…"
"Look…" Static was now disgusted by the fact he was going to justify himself to HotStreak. "You're stealing money from people, more than a few bucks. If I had caught you just taking some food and maybe $20...I could have let it slide."
HotStreak gives in to the stubborn hero. "Fine." Gritting his teeth, the older man digs into his cargo pants, pulling out handfuls of cash, tossing them at Static. "Guess I don't deserve to eat." Refusing to leave the house empty handed, the man runs upstairs, towards a room he had searched through earlier. Confused, Static follows.
"What are you doing now?"
"Well" HotStreak speaks with rage now. "If I can't eat, I'm gonna take a fuckin' sweater. Or am I to freeze instead? Is freezing to death better than starving to death, Static?" The man rummages through a dresser, full of folded sweaters.
"Can't you just use your powers or something? You control fire after all…" HotStreak stops his searching, allowing a pause in his answer.
"…not when I sleep…so I avoid sleeping…" There is another pause. "Then I pass out…and wake with…" The pyroteen looks down at his hands. "I wake with frostbite…" Not realizing that he was sharing more than he wanted, the thug shows Static his frostbitten hands. Static's eyes widen as he sees the dead skin and some scar tissue. Before he can examine more, Francis pulls his hands away to look for a sweater. "Not all of us have good families you know…"
Hearing that rattled Virgil. Last year he had helped a girl, who called herself Permafrost, who was homeless and needed help. She didn't ask for what had happened to her family, but she dealt with it. Virgil wonders what Francis had to endure. As far as he knew, Francis had a family. Could something be so bad that Francis will sleep on the streets and sell himself to keep out of jail and home?
"Why not stay at a friend's place?"
"I don't have friends." Standing up, Francis pulls a black hoodie over his head. "I'm not a likeable person. It's easier to live on the streets and sell myself for what I need." Both teenagers head back downstairs.
"It doesn't sound easier." Virgil can't help but want to help the man. Times like this made him hate that habit of helping those in need. Even if it is Edwin Alva…or even Francis Stone.
"I've been doin' it since I was thirteen Static." HotStreak leans on the door frame, ready to leave, seeing if he can talk his way out of getting that free trip to jail.
A look of repulsion courses through Static's facial features. "!" He stops dead in his tracks. "How can you just…let yourself be used like that?" Virgil wasn't sure what thought was worse. A thirteen year old selling his body, or the fact that someone would buy a thirteen year old's body.
"It's easy when you don't give a fuck about yourself."
"…you're depraved…" A heavy sigh escapes Static. "Here." The hero pulls off his gloves, handing them to the other man. "These should keep your fingers from getting frostbite again…"
The taller man looks at the black and grey pair. "They probably won't fit me."
"Try them on at least." Static was not about to have his over reaching good deed be rejected. No way in hell.
Grabbing the gloves, HotStreak makes a half ass attempt to put on the damn gloves with no luck. "Too damn small." He tosses them back to Static, who catches them easily. "Why help me? You threatened to lock me up not five minutes ago."
"Five minutes ago you were taking $200."
Francis groans at the loss of the cash. With that money, he didn't have to sleep with another man for a damn burger. He rests his head back so it rests on the white painted wall. "Have you ever gone hungry for more than a week?"
Another sigh escapes the mocha teen. "No…" Guilt fills the hero. He hated guilt. "I haven't…but I'm guessing it sucks a lot. It doesn't sound too pleasant."
"You can feel your stomach digest itself…and when you do eat…chances of you holding it down are pretty slim…"
Seeing Francis like this shook Virgil to the core. He was dealing with stuff he shouldn't have to. Hunger, a place to live, selling your body…it wasn't right. No one deserved that. "Okay…I'll make you a deal." The sixteen year old could not believe he was about to say this. "You promise not to break into anymore houses and I'll let you stay at my hideout and I'll get you food…sound fair?" It was now Static realized that HotStreak needed help, and jail would not give him the help he needs.
"Why help me?"
"Because you need some help…"
"I've needed help for years…"
"Yeah, well, I woulda offered to help you sooner if I knew…now, you want my help or not?"
Francis thought about it. Static was offering him food, shelter and a chance for his body to heal. "Mind as well…I'll die at the rate I'm goin…" Winter was always the hardest time of year to be homeless. So many more hazards.
"Good." Somehow, that disgust melted away. "You want me to give you a ride or just give you directions?"
"Can I hit a couple more houses first?" A green plant catches the cold eyes of Francis.
"…no…" Static should have guessed this wouldn't be easy.
"Okay…give me a ride then…can I stay overnight?" Francis felt his pride shatter again. But he needed this.
Virgil knew Richie would get pissed off, but this was a person's life, even if that person was Francis. "Yeah…you can stay the whole winter if you want…"
A sinister grin plants itself on HotStreak's chapped lips. "…Okay…" His eyes move below the plant, onto Static. "Guess what."
"What?"
"We're under mistletoe." Quickly, Francis pulls the smaller body into his, pressing his lips to Static's. A moment passes before Virgil is able to process what was said and what was currently being done. The second he connects the word 'kiss', he jerks his head back quickly. A chuckle is heard in front of him.
Looking away, Static brings his arm up to his face, wiping off the man kiss. "…lousy no good little" is muttered into his black sleeve, embarrassed as hell by the boldness, not to mention both shameless and stupid, of his enemy. His face burns as the blood seems to rush to his cheeks. Steals my first kiss cuz of a stupid plant…
"Heh…problem?" HotStreak couldn't help but adore the look on Static's face. That look of total and utter confusion.
"Don't do it again…plant or to plant…" Static still blushes, denying the fact that it's even there. "Yeah…you just took my first kiss…" Static hides the red color with his arm, still wiping his face. Stupid, hot headed, cookie-stealing, scuffmark making-
"Really?" Francis chuckles to himself, the thought that the hero was still a virgin. "Sweet." The man is totally amused.
"No." Virgil can feel the blush spread. "Not sweet." Wanting to go quick, fast, and in a damn hurry, Static pulls out this static saucer, charging is to it opens. "Now let's get go before I get angry at you…" The disc levitates about a foot above the tile. 'Sweet'…I'll give you a 'sweet' you god damned-
"Okay…" Static hops onto the disc, confident it won't fall. However, HotStreak didn't have that said confidence. "How sturdy is that heap of metal?"
Amused with the doubt, Static looks down at the other man. "It's stronger than reinforced steel…it's sturdy."
"I've seen you fall off this thing Static…" Setting one foot onto the silver tin-like material, HotStreak basically stomps on it to check it.
"You shot me off it…So unless you're planning on shooting yourself down, we're fine." Not wanting to argue, Static pulls on the black hoodie, forcing the criminal onto the disc, and takes off into the night.
Startled, Francis quickly, wraps his arms around the small waist of the hero, clinging desperately to him. Flying himself was different, but in the snow and with another person, Static even, then it was just plain…evil. "Warn me damnit!"
Static snickers even thought it was him HotStreak was clinging to. He actually found himself embarrassed by the closeness of their bodies. "'Kay…sorry."
"No you're not!" His grip tightens around Static as a gust of wind rocks them a little. They were on a tiny hunk of metal, Francis was not happy.
Another blush floods Static, even in the cold winds that brushed his face. "You'll be fine…It's not like I'm flying loop-de-loops."
"And if you do I'll jump off and shoot yer ass down!" Still clinging desperately, Francis buries his pale face into the back of Static's neck, breathing in both his body wash and warmth.
Trying desperately to deny the fact that HotStreak is being cute, if you can imagine that word being used to describe that man even for a moment, Static quickens his pace through the white blur before him. "I wasn't gonna…"
"Just hurry." Those two words were unintentionally breathed down the other man's neck. HotStreak presses his body closer to Static as they cut through the snow.
A shiver finds its way down the mocha teen's back. "I'm goin'."
"Go faster…" Again, two words inch their way down dark skin. That shiver teases Static in the most torturous way. And he didn't like the idea of Francis doing this to his body. Just quit being all…close. Finally, The Abandoned Gas Station of Solitude was in sight. Without stopping, Static zooms on inside the building, suddenly stopping, causing the two bodies to jerk slightly. The thug remains on the disc, still clinging to the hero, amazed he hasn't managed to kill himself on that thing.
"Okay…you can stop clinging any time now…" The man is still petrified, mystified that Static really is still alive. "HotStreak?"
"How can you stand this thing?" Trying to regain any gangster image, Francis jumps off the disc, planting his feet on solid, unmoving ground.
"Easy." Static hops off his disc, folding it easily as he stops the electricity flow.
Feeling lightheaded, HotStreak struggles to keep balance. "Is not."
"It is for me." The hero walks over to the couch, pulling off the cushions to pull out the bed inside it. "This is the bed, and food is over in that fridge and cupboard. 'Kay?" He looks at the other man. "You still hungry?"
This time around, food made Francis's stomach churn. "God no."
"Okay…well…if you do get hungry…just eat." He watches the other man rest his head on the gas station counter, now Gear's work station. He didn't look so good.
"What's wrong?" Worried, Static walks closer.
"Nothin'." Quickly, the man stumbles to the bed.
"You look dizzy…" HotStreak collapses onto the bed, further worrying the hero. "Are you sick?" The hero examines the expression on Francis's face, then he rephrases his question. "Do you need a bucket?" The second HotStreak covers his mouth, Static uses his powers to get the garbage can across the room.
Almost immediately, HotStreak grabs the bucket, hurling into it. Unable to look away, Static sees the white, watered out liquid escape Francis. Then the foul smell hits him. Glad I found a bucket…As HotStreak coughs echoes into the bucket, Static gets him a bottle of water, sitting next to the other man.
""Here…" Static hands the man the warm water, realizing that most of what Francis had puked up was stomach bile.
"God…" Francis uncaps the plastic bottle, and takes in some water to get the taste out of his mouth. "That stuff tastes worse comin' up than down…"
Unable to fight curiosity, Static asks "What was it?"
The other man answers him as if it happened all the time. It probably did. "Cum." Virgil's face contorts with disgust once more, the thought that he had kissed him…
"I said no one will fuck me during winter, blow jobs are different."
"I…I've established this…" It was that moment that Virgil realized that HotStreak was not only a prostitute, but a gay prostitute. His thoughts are interrupted as Francis hurls again. Did he have to…swallow it? The other man coughs heavily, his whole body tensing. Virgil couldn't help but pity the man. Really pity him.
After he is sure he is empty, Francis sets the pail down and lays on the bed in an exhausted manner. "Christmas sucks…just like every other year…"
"It doesn't have to suck…"
"With no friends or family…it sucks…it's just another day." Francis picks at the dead skin on his fingers, a habit he picks up every year.
"Don't pick at that."
"Yes Mother." Static rolls his eyes at the runaway, content that he listened. Static notices the other man shiver. Getting up, Static takes off his trench coat, laying it over Francis's large frame. This confuses the prostitute.
"I'll get you some blankets later. You need anything else before I go?"
"No…" Shame fills Francis's face again as he accepts the younger man's help.
"Get some rest. I'll see you tomorrow." Pulling out his disc once more, Static jumps on and heads for home, unable to believe what Francis goes through. The man had been having sex since he was thirteen…with older men nonetheless. The entire time Francis would beat others and cause trouble, it wasn't because he only had trouble with is temper…it was because he needed help. He was crying for help the best way he could, while holding onto his pride and dignity. And Virgil, like everyone else, ignored him when he needed that help, and never got it. Now the whole city is paying for it. Paying for their ignorance…for the way they isolated Francis and labeled him a loss cause. It wasn't his fault he turned out like this, it was the city of Dakota Fields. Everyone helped create this monster…and now they must deal with it.