Title: The Sun and the Moon
Author: R.L.N.
Rating: M (Romance, A/U, Yaoi, NCS, blood/gore, language, mild to moderate sensuality.)
Spoilers: None.
Summary: Quatre is a writer with a block. With the suggestion of his editor, he travels to a town filled with creatures of the night where he meets mysterious people.
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by their original creators. No money is being made and no infringement is intended.
Author's Notes: Originally written in 2004. Zero editing since the original story completion.
"So, Quatre, your last novel was wonderful," the editor said, chewing on a cigar as he spoke. "However, it seems like you just rushed the ending, not giving it enough time to just flow on its own."
"I know, Rin" Quatre Winner sighed, leaning back in the chair. The office he was sitting in was dimly lit, and smoke wafted through the air. "I felt like I had to get it done right then and there. It's hard, finding something to write about nowadays. I feel like I have to do better than before."
"That's going to be impossible within the next few years," Rin said, chewing thoughtfully. "You know, maybe you need a break. Get out of your apartment and take your horse with you to the country. I have an old friend of mine living out there, that is, if she's still alive. I'll send you her way, and you can take a vacation to relax."
Quatre chuckled, hiding his smile behind his hand. Rin hated dogs, and Sandrock was ten times bigger than any normal dog.
"So, that's settled," Rin said, standing up. "I'll find you some directions, and you can ride on out there tomorrow."
"Tomorrow?" Quatre repeated. "What, trying to get rid of me?"
"Out," Rin said, grinning as Quatre left the office laughing.
Quatre headed out of the building and down to the parking garage where his bike was chained up. It didn't take long to reach his apartment, and Quatre chained his bike to the post and headed up three flights of stairs and opened his door.
Sandrock got up off the floor in front of the fire, and Quatre saw that Gina, the neighbor woman, had come by to let him outside. He could tell because the envelope with her money in it was gone.
"Come on boy," Quatre said, tired from the long day at work. While writing was his passion, his life, it was also going down the drain. He worked as a writer for the local newspaper to help fill in the gaps, but Quatre wasn't interested in writing about the weather forecasts. He needed a challenge, and Quatre hoped this vacation would let him think of one.
Dinner was nothing more than cheap, thin sliced turkey and half a can of condensed soup. Sandrock ate his dog food happily, and Quatre laughed as the giant Mastiff ate up any bits that came out of the bowl.
"Saving food too, are you?" Quatre smiled, putting the rest of his soup in the cooler for tomorrow.
Quatre packed everything he would need for a few nights stay in a duffel bag, and put his writing notebook and pens in a backpack along with anything else he could think of. Sandrock had a light bag he carried on his back, and Quatre put some of Sandrock's things in the little bag.
"Let's go to bed," Quatre said, and Sandrock sprawled in front of the fireplace.
Quatre opened the only closet and took out several warm blankets he had owned for years. He spread them out on his couch before taking off his clothes and hanging them up neatly, so they wouldn't wrinkle for the next day.
The apartment was only one room, with a wall separating the kitchen from the rest. Quatre didn't own anything besides a couch and a few keepsakes he had in boxes in the lone closet. He paid the neighbor woman to take Sandrock out on walks, and to keep him happy, otherwise Quatre would have to let him go out of guilt for leaving him in such a tiny room.
Quatre fell asleep on the couch, and shivered slightly as the temperatures fell even in the summer nights. Sandrock looked up from the cooling fireplace and whined before laying his head back down and closing his eyes.
Quatre woke up stiff and cold, and he boiled some water for tea before heating up the rest of his soup. He took a washcloth and scrubbed his body clean while standing by the stove, using the excess water from his tea. He cooled the water down slightly and used it to wash his hair, leaning over the sink and rinsing with cold water. He used a small hand towel and dried most of the water out, leaving it to air dry in the cool morning.
The phone rang right as Quatre finished brushing his teeth, toothpaste and a toothbrush the only things he constantly bought to keep new. Floss was a different story because it lasted forever.
"Hey, here's the directions for the hotel my friend works in," Rin's voice said. "I'm not going to tie up the phone, so write it down quick. Her name is Catherine Bloom."
Quatre copied the directions in his neat handwriting, and said good-bye before hanging up the phone. The company paid for the phone bill, no matter how much Quatre had protested. Rin claimed that it was a cast-iron bitch to get a hold of him with no phone, so he supplied it through the newspaper. Quatre had a sneaking suspicion that Rin paid it personally, but whenever the topic was brought up, Rin suddenly had a smoking urge and dashed off to the smoking area.
Quatre loaded up himself with his backpack and duffel bag, tied on Sandrock's bag to his harness, and locked his door before going down the flights of stairs to his bike.
Sandrock kept up an easy trot, happy to stretch his muscles properly. Quatre biked through town, taking side roads and dirt paths to get out of the noisy city. Two hours of nonstop riding left him rather numb, so Quatre stopped at a little diner by the side of the road to rest and feed Sandrock.
"What can I get you?" the waitress asked, smiling as she held open the door while Quatre tied Sandrock to the bike rack.
"Just some herb tea," Quatre said. "And a biscuit."
Quatre gave Sandrock food and water before going inside to sit at the booth. The waitress gave him a plate with a warm biscuit, and Quatre sipped his tea as he rested from his travels.
"Do you know how far Shadeton is from here?" Quatre asked, eating his biscuit carefully, not wasting any crumbs.
"About two hours of driving," the waitress answered. "But the way you're traveling, maybe four or five."
"Thank you," Quatre said politely, glad he got an early start. He paid for his tea, and left a tip before going outside and unchaining his bike and Sandrock.
"Let's keep going," Quatre said to his friend, and they started off along the road again.
"Where's that kid going?" the cook asked, looking out at the waitress.
"Shadeton," the woman replied. "And he seems like such a nice boy."
"…Pity."
The sun was falling as Quatre walked, Sandrock lumbering next to him. His bike got a flat tire an hour after the diner, and Quatre spent the entire day walking to Shadeton. His feet were beginning to ache, and Sandrock whined every time he stumbled, but Quatre just smiled at the Mastiff and kept going.
A small sign was the only relief Quatre felt that day. It was small, missed by most if they were driving, but Quatre had the time and patience to pause and read it.
Shadeton was two miles west.
Quatre paused by the sign, and looked at the sun. It was setting off towards his right, where a dirt road seemed to lead into the forest. The road he was currently on curved in the distance to the east. Quatre looked at the sign, then at the dirt road, then to the main road, before settling on walking down the dirt road. Sandrock whined, but obediently followed Quatre.
The forest was only a mile long, and Quatre ended up stepping on gravel as he walked into a tiny town. It was small, and Quatre could see a grocery store, a hotel, and a tavern as the main buildings. Dotting the streets, all five of them by what Quatre could see, were buildings that looked like homes or small businesses. Quatre walked up to the hotel and opened the door after tying Sandrock and his bike down.
"Looking for a room, little one?" an old woman asked, standing up from in front of the fire.
"Yes," Quatre replied. "Do you know a Catherine Bloom?"
"Yes, I'm she," the old woman replied. "How can I help you?"
"My boss, Rin, he knows you and suggested that I come here," Quatre explained. "I needed a vacation, and brought my dog here with me."
"Unfortunately, I disapprove of animals in my hotel," Catherine said, looking out the screen door to Sandrock, who sat patiently on the ground. "However, this town is so empty I'll be willing to bend the rules."
"I wouldn't want to impose," Quatre protested, holding up his hands and stepping back. "If you're allergic, I wouldn't want to bother you."
Sandrock suddenly started barking, and Quatre gave an apologetic glance before going outside and kneeling next to the giant dog.
"Shh," Quatre soothed, petting Sandrock's head. "It's okay, there isn't any reason to bark. Shh, Sandrock, calm down."
Sandrock snorted and stopped barking, his teeth still showing to an invisible enemy.
"That's a big dog," Catherine said, standing in front of the door. "A good guardian?"
"He protects me very well," Quatre smiled, stroking Sandrock's head and scratching his ears. "I'm very safe with him."
"Mmhmm," Catherine hummed. She turned and went back inside.
"Triton!"
Quatre kissed Sandrock's head before standing up and untying him from the porch railing. "Come on, we'll find somewhere so we won't bother Miss Catherine."
"You'll stay with Triton," Catherine said, coming back outside. "Leave your bike, I will find someone to fix it."
Quatre looked up as footsteps were heard, and a solitary figure dressed in a long, black leather coat appeared in the doorway. Quatre's mouth became dry as the person stared down at him, green eyes locking with sapphire. He reached up and brushed long brown bangs away, only to have them fall back in place.
"Why should someone like him stay with me?" Triton asked, looking at Catherine. "And it's Trowa."
Quatre swallowed and looked away, petting Sandrock's head as he started to growl.
"Because I said so, Trowa," Catherine said, her tone signaling the end of the conversation.
"I couldn't impose…" Quatre began.
"You are," Trowa cut off, and stepped down off the porch and started walking down towards the lake.
Quatre grabbed his bag and Sandrock's leash before smiling at Catherine and running to catch up with Trowa.
Quatre walked behind the silent man, figuring he was older than Quatre by a few years, maybe three or four. That wasn't old by any standards, since Quatre was a twenty-one year-old school dropout.
Sandrock followed, tugging slightly at his leash at Quatre followed Trowa down a path towards a cabin near the edge of the lake. Looking closely, Quatre thought he saw a stone formation coming out from the water. Concentrating so hard, Quatre was jerked to the ground as Sandrock went taking off towards the trees, bounding after something he saw.
"Sandrock!" Quatre exclaimed. "Stop it!"
Sandrock immediately stopped barking and went back to Quatre, growling at the dark trees.
"What have we here, Barton?" another male voice said, and Quatre stood up as someone came out of the night shadows.
"Go away, Slake," Trowa said, and Quatre brushed off the dirt from his clothes with one hand, pretending not to notice the hatred lurking in Trowa's voice.
"Not before being introduced to such a lovely creature," Slake replied smoothly, but Quatre could hear the disdain in his voice before turning to him. "Viktor Slake."
"Quatre Winner," Quatre introduced, and held out his clean hand. Viktor took it and raised it to his lips, placing a kiss on the warm hand.
"The pleasure is entirely mine," Viktor murmured against Quatre's hand, and Quatre felt heat rise to his face as Viktor continued to place soft kisses along his knuckles and fingers. He gently pulled his hand away when he felt a tongue slide across his fingers, and Viktor smiled at him.
"I live on the eastern side of the lake," Viktor informed, turning away. "You're more than welcome to visit me. Perhaps we'll get to know each other better."
"Perhaps," Quatre said, and took Sandrock's leash in his hands. When he looked up, Viktor was gone.
"Hurry up," Trowa suddenly said, and Quatre could feel the icy tone. He hurried after Trowa and into the cabin, closing the door after him.
"Your room is upstairs, first door on the left," Trowa said, and watched as Quatre lifted his leg and pulled off a pale green sneaker. "I suggest you get some rest, you look tired."
"I walked here," Quatre shrugged, lifting his other leg to pull off the other shoe. "It took all day."
Quatre led Sandrock upstairs, and Trowa watched as he disappeared before going outside to see a 'friend'.
Quatre undressed for bed, and took off Sandrock's harness before making a bed using worn blankets he had brought from home just in case he got cold. Sandrock stretched out on the makeshift bed spread over the soft rug and fell asleep quickly. Quatre rubbed his sore feet before crawling into the silky sheets, falling asleep easily as he snuggled in the warm bed.
"What kind of performance was that?" Trowa asked, not bothering to knock as he entered the building and headed into the basement.
Viktor was lounging in a chair, several of their 'friends' already there.
"What could you possibly mean?" Viktor asked, grinning like the cat whom had just caught a canary.
"I mean with that boy," Trowa said, and he watched the other men and women step back a little. "You know better than to tread on my territory. That blond is mine."
"He tasted like the sun I haven't seen in a thousand years," Viktor said, that damned smile still on his dark lips. "I could see his light from across the lake, do you honestly think I would pass up an opportunity to rape such a beautiful creature? If it wasn't for that damn beast he had, you probably wouldn't have even noticed he was gone."
Trowa glared icy daggers at the other man. "Don't even think about treading on my territory, or I'll see to the Council to decide his fate. One way or another, he's mine to have."
Trowa left the dark basement and walked out of the normal looking building. He entered his own home and went upstairs, stopping by the open doorway of his new acquaintance.
Slender arms spread across the black blankets, and blond hair fell to the side as the neck, a long column of pale skin, exposed itself to Trowa's gaze. A light blue shirt ten sizes too large exposed flesh along the shoulders, down one side of a lightly toned chest. Trowa snapped out of his reverie as a low growl reached his ears. The giant beast was glaring at Trowa, and he merely cast it a cold stare before turning and walking down to the basement of the cabin.
The next morning, the sky was darkened with black clouds. Quatre woke up feeling refreshed, and he slid out of the warm bed and dressed before brushing his hair and going downstairs for something to eat. One look through the cupboards showed nothing edible, so Quatre pulled on his shoes and let Sandrock outside. He walked back into town, hoping the grocery store was open.
It was, and an older gentleman was stocking the shelves. Quatre quietly went about buying tea bags, and some other ingredients to make a light breakfast.
"Hello there," the owner finally greeted. "I didn't hear you come in. Are you passing by?"
"No," Quatre replied, setting several cans of dog food on the counter. "I'm staying with a young man by the lake."
"…Really?" the owner asked, ringing up his groceries. "Viktor Slake?"
Quatre shook his head. "Trowa Barton. Do you know anything about him?"
"Odd one, that one is," he replied. His tone was strange. "He doesn't like other people, quiet guy. Been around here for many years."
Quatre paid for the groceries and left the little store.
"What's your name?" the owner called after him.
"Quatre Winner," Quatre replied. "And you?"
"Treize," was the only reply, and Quatre turned and walked back towards the lake, the paper bag secure in his arms. Sandrock was waiting for him by the cabin, and Quatre walked up the wooden steps as thunder was heard overhead.
"Looks like rain," Quatre said, feeling the cold wind. "Hurry and come inside for breakfast."
Sandrock followed Quatre inside, and Quatre boiled water for tea before making a tiny breakfast and putting dog food in Sandrock's dish he had brought from home. Quatre toasted bread on the frying pan, and scrambled an egg to put on it. He drank his tea and finished his toast and egg before cleaning everything up. Rain was pouring down by then, lashing against the window. There was the occasional flash of lightening and roar of thunder, but Quatre didn't let it bother him as he went upstairs to make the bed.
Sandrock was whining as Quatre straightened the blankets on the bed. "What's wrong?" Quatre asked, patting the dog's head.
Quatre heard the door downstairs open and slam shut, and he heard voices muffled by the sound of the storm. He quietly went out of the room and listened, out of view to the four people downstairs.
"Mr. Slake wants him for a light brunch," a male voice said, sounding irritated. "Stop your complaining and take it to the Council."
"I hardly think the Council would allow the bastard what he wants," Trowa's voice said, and Quatre frowned. He didn't understand what was going on at all. Stepping forward, Quatre walked down the stairs and paused halfway as four sets of eyes landed on him.
"Good morning, Trowa," Quatre said, and walked the rest of the way down. "What's going on?"
"Mr. Slake would like it if you would dine with him this morning," a man said, quite a bit older than Treize from the grocery store.
"I've just eaten, I hardly think I would be a decent guest," Quatre said. "Perhaps for lunch?"
"I'm sure that's acceptable with him," was the swift response, and Quatre caught the furious glare of Trowa as the three men left and stepped into the rainstorm.
"Is there something I should know?" Quatre asked, looking at Trowa.
Trowa just scoffed and walked away. Quatre reached forward and caught his arm, the leather jacket soft in his hand. "Am I in danger?"
"No more than when you're with me."
Quatre let Trowa walk away and head downstairs into the basement. He was beyond a mystery, and Quatre suddenly had a brainstorm as he stood there. Running up to his room, he opened a notebook and began to write.
Later that morning, a woman knocked on the door. Quatre opened it, and kissed a whining Sandrock good-bye. She held open an umbrella, and Quatre walked with her to the other side of the lake. She didn't say a word, merely opened the door for him and disappeared down the road.
"Welcome," Viktor greeted, and Quatre smiled as he stepped into the warm building. Viktor stepped behind him and eased Quatre's jacket off, hanging it on a coat rack before leading Quatre to the kitchen where a table was set for two. Candles burned in the dark room, and cast an eerie glow across the table.
"I'm glad you could join me," Viktor said, helping Quatre into a chair. He moved and sat across the table. "I was disappointed you wouldn't come earlier, but now that I have you here, I want to make the most of it."
Lunch was odd, to say the least. It was very delicious, but Quatre noticed Viktor didn't eat anything. A bottle of red wine was opened, and Quatre was led into the parlor.
"I presume you drink?" Viktor asked, handing Quatre a glass of red wine. "This is a very good brand, hardly anything is better."
Quatre sipped the dark red liquid, and felt something cold spread through his body. Suddenly feeling weak, Quatre felt the glass fall from his hand as he collapsed to the floor.
Viktor watched the red wine stain across the floor, the broken glass shining in the candlelight. He watched the chest rise and fall with each breath Quatre took, and a lecherous grin came across his features as he set down his glass and gathered the limp body in his arms. Viktor enhaled the clean scent, and licked his lips in anticipation.
Barton could bitch and scream all he wanted, but no one denied Viktor Slake what he wanted.
Quatre stirred, his mouth feeling very dry. He licked his lips and swallowed, hearing a deep sigh from somewhere. He forced his eyes open, and saw Viktor leaning over him.
"Exquisite," Viktor murmured, and Quatre came fully aware of the other man. Long fingers grazed across his body, and Quatre forced himself to sit up and pull his legs close.
"What happened?" Quatre asked, rubbing his temple with one hand while the other hugged his body. "What did you give me?"
"It's more like, what you are going to give me," Viktor said calmly, stroking Quatre's legs. "Don't fight, I wouldn't want to harm you any more than what I find appealing."
Quatre struggled as Viktor began stripping off his clothes, and earned a sharp slap across the cheek. "I have no problem raping you," Viktor hissed. "But you'll find it much more satisfying if you would just give in!"
Quatre felt dizzy, and fell back limply against the bed cushions. He felt Viktor on top of him and the hard thrusts against his body. The bed rocked with the violent actions, and Quatre couldn't do anything but lie unmoving as Viktor pushed up into his body, the pain barely registering in Quatre's brain. The bed rocked harder as the thrusts grew stronger, and Quatre couldn't move as he was raped. He only had one thought before he passed out.
'Trowa, what did you mean when you said, 'no more than when you're with me'?'
Trowa charged up the porch steps, the rain slowing down as he approached the cabin door. He forced the front door open, and saw the elegant set-up for the lunch. Trowa looked around for any sign of Quatre, but only saw a broken glass with red liquid staining the carpet. Trowa knelt by the stain and touched it with his finger, tasting it quickly before spitting it out.
Lover's Blood. A potent poison made to subdue the strongest man. Trowa ran upstairs and tried to open the only closed door up there. It was locked, and Trowa heard the grunts and bangs of a rough sex, and he pounded on the door.
"Slake!" Trowa shouted. "How dare you cross me!"
"I always get what I want," was the only reply.
Trowa spun and delivered a swift kick to the door, breaking the lock and handle. The door creaked loose, and Trowa pushed it out of the way before seizing Viktor and throwing him across the room.
"He's…mine," Viktor gasped, out of breath. He suddenly started to laugh as men grabbed him and dragged him off out of the room. A woman came in and handed Trowa a long, white robe, signaling Quatre would go with them to Council.
Trowa gently lifted Quatre upright and slipped the robe over his head and pulled it down his slender body and eased slim arms through the sleeves. Trowa stood up with Quatre in his arms, and followed the woman downstairs and through a door in the basement. The passageway was dank, and Trowa walked the path confidently.
The passage ended inside a massive temple, and Trowa stepped into the stone temple resting on the bottom of the lake. There were dozens of beings like him already there, and Trowa recognized several before stepping forward and laying Quatre on an altar.
"So, this is the one Viktor wanted to have," a voice stated, and Trowa nodded.
"Yes, Treize," Trowa confirmed. "He gave him Lover's Blood and raped him."
Treize stepped forward and felt Quatre's forehead. The skin was cold and damp, and Treize frowned. It was a far cry from the mortal human he had met that morning.
"Viktor Slake, come forward," Treize commanded, and stepped back to his rightful chair in the center of the Council of Vampires. Eighteen of the wisest occupied those chairs, lined up against the far wall and heightened to see the entire room. Viktor was forced to the center of the room and was bound to a wooden stake two feet high, resting on his knees in front of the gaze of the Council. Trowa realized that all eighteen elders were present, a rare occurrence. He stood back and watched the trial, fighting back the hatred that threatened to rise every moment.
"Did you give this mortal Lover's Blood?" Treize asked, motioning to Quatre's still form. The white robe glowed in the candlelight.
"Yes."
"Did you rape this mortal?"
"Yes."
"Did you turn him?" At this, Trowa looked up sharply.
"No. Barton stopped me from turning him."
Treize's gaze flicker to Trowa, who was looking at Quatre.
"Rape of any creature is forbidden, but especially of a mortal human," Treize said, his voice loud and strong in the temple. "This act alone is punishable by isolation. However, the use of Lover's Blood is also forbidden, and the punishment is death. Do you deny your charges?"
"No."
"Then death it is for you," Treize said, and at his words the ceiling, above the altar Viktor was bound to, dropped the heavy banners. Sunshine poured into the temple, and the witnesses cringed in pain.
Trowa didn't flinch as Viktor screamed, burning in the Sun's wrath. After several moments, the banners fell again, and Trowa blinked at the darkness.
"Remove the remains," Treize ordered, rising to his feet. "Court is dismissed."
The masses moved towards the surface, dark clouds hiding the sun while they hid within their homes again. Trowa stepped forward and stood next to Treize, who was looking down at Quatre.
"Take him to Catherine," Treize said, looking at Trowa. "She will be able to heal his wounds. After that, alter his memories with her memory potion. Make this nothing more than a nightmare. Viktor Slake never existed, make him believe that."
Trowa nodded, and slipped his arms under Quatre's body and lifted him up.
"Why would you go through such lengths to protect a mortal?" Treize asked as Trowa turned to leave.
"…I would say it's because I wanted him to make Slake jealous," Trowa replied. "But you wouldn't believe me, would you? Perhaps it's because he is the Sun that kills us Vampires. The same light I have come to hate, he possesses. It's hard to hate the Sun when she disguises herself so beautifully, isn't it?"
Treize merely watched Trowa walk back up to the surface, taking the Sun in her disguise with him.
"Perhaps, that is not the only reason."
Catherine healed the wounds on Quatre's body easily. She using old techniques passed down to her, while Trowa slept. When night fell, Trowa awoke and took Quatre back to his house. Sandrock was whining as Trowa opened the door, but fell silent as Trowa stepped in with Quatre's limp form.
"Don't worry, he's safe now," Trowa said, and Sandrock wagged his tail before following Trowa upstairs and into Quatre's room. Trowa laid Quatre down on the bed, and Quatre stirred and sighed before opening his eyes.
"Trowa?" Quatre murmured, blinking in the darkness. "What…?"
"You fell asleep writing," Trowa said softly, sitting on the edge of the bed. "It must have given you nightmares, whatever you wrote."
"I dreamed of terror, and pain," Quatre said, his voice weak and tired. "It was horrible. I've never dreamed anything like it before."
"Go back to sleep," Trowa whispered, and gently touched Quatre's face. Quatre's eyes closed, and Trowa stood up and walked away as Quatre continued to sleep.
Morning came, but you could hardly tell. The clouds were thick overhead, blocking every ray of the Sun, despite how hard she shone.
Trowa poured the broth he heated into a bowl and carried it upstairs on a tray with tea and hot biscuits. He opened the door and set the tray on the nightstand and leaned over Quatre.
"Quatre? Time to wake up."
Quatre stirred and opened his eyes, rubbing them sleepily as he sat up. "Good morning," he smiled, pushing up against the pillows.
"…I brought you breakfast," Trowa said, setting the tray across Quatre's lap.
Quatre covered his mouth in shock before smiling brightly. "You didn't have to," Quatre protested, deeply touched by the gesture.
"I wanted to," Trowa said, a small smile on his lips as he watched Quatre.
"Thank you so much," Quatre said, and Trowa just nodded and left the room. Sandrock got up and followed, and Quatre heard the front door open and close.
Quatre ate one of the biscuits, and drank the hot broth entirely, burning his tongue more than once. He leaned back in bed with a cup of tea in both hands and looked out at dark sky. He heard Sandrock barking and playing in the yard, and looked up as Trowa entered the room again.
"…You hardly ate anything," Trowa observed, sitting on the edge of the bed next to Quatre. He lifted the tray off the bed and set it on the nightstand.
"Don't force me, I'll throw it all up," Quatre said, smiling gently. "All my money goes to pay for
Sandrock, I hardly have anything to feed myself. I'm just not used to anything bigger than toast and eggs in the morning."
Quatre set his cup on the nightstand and pushed the covers back, sliding out of bed as Trowa stood. Quatre looked at what he was wearing and frowned. He didn't own any white robes.
"I didn't want you to fall asleep in your day clothes," Trowa explained, looking away as he picked up the tray and moved to leave the room.
Quatre stepped into the bathroom and slipped the silky garment over his head. He ran sink water and used a washcloth to scrub his body clean before dressing in a white shirt and jeans.
Trowa had washed the dishes and was putting them away when Quatre went downstairs, and he looked up when Quatre entered the kitchen.
"Do you like to read?" Trowa asked, drying his hands on a towel.
"Yes," Quatre answered. "Very much so."
"I have a library, if you'd like to see it," Trowa said. "Downstairs."
Quatre followed Trowa down a flight of stairs and into the basement. Candles burned in the dim light, and shelves full of books lined the walls and created a maze throughout the large basement.
"I want to watch you read," Trowa said, and Quatre looked at him curiously. "I want to see what pleases you."
Quatre didn't catch the double meaning, and Trowa watched as he lifted a book from the shelf and settled in a chair to read. Trowa waited until Quatre was fully distracted by the book before kneeling in front of him and placing a hand on his cheek.
Trowa hypnotized very well, and watched as Quatre's eyes glazed over, his mouth parting slightly. Trowa took Quatre face in both hands and placed a strong kiss against the blond's lips, sliding his tongue and exploring the slack mouth at his disposal.
While satisfying in a way, Trowa soon pulled away and stood up, leaving the basement before releasing Quatre from his hold. Quatre blinked several times before shaking his head and looking down at the book in his hands.
"Strange," Quatre murmured, and noticed an odd taste in his mouth.
"Blood?"
* End Part 1*