MY FIRST SHOT AT SHOUNEN-AI. Please don't be TOO harsh. Just the right amount would be great ;P So I'm trying this out 'cause I haven't seen very many OC yaoi stores on here I like. I decided to make one. (Even though I think I'll grow to hate it) D: HOPE U LIEK EET
Sweat streams down his face, and his heart is pumping in his throat, making his breathing ragged and clipped. He emitts a grunting scream as he collapses around a corner, lying where he'd been shot down. The ground is cold against his cheek, and he closes his eyes in despair and defeat. He knows He's done for when the sound of lightly clicking heels of dress shoes clap against the stone. The tapping shoes stop in front of him. He clenches his jaw, and opens his eyes, keeping his silence. He finds himself staring at a pair of nice, ruby heels, which seem impossibly high. Three inches, maybe? Four? His eyes travel upward. A skirt not unlike a whorish office girl's on a drama was clinging to curvy, dark hips. He looks up even more. His eyes travel past a large chest clad in a taut, bloodred blouse that exposes a bit of clevage, and finally rests on a pair of crimson irises. The smirk in them is unmistakable, and makes his heart clench.
"Oh, Trev, Trev, Trev..." A soft giggle and a hand reaches out to stroke his already elongating hair out of his face. "You ignorant boy. But I suppose you're quite cute because of that, hm?"
He wants to yell at the woman, to tell her to go away and leave him alone. He doesn't have what she wants. He thinks of what she couldpossibly be doing here, and then wants to get up and fight. All of the crap he'd heard about how "hitting a woman is an unforgivable sin" doesn't apply here, he thinks as he musters enough energy to sneer at the woman.
"My name isn't Trev." He growls low. Then, he finds himself standing, and being thrown back into the wall on the opposite side of the alley.
"Trevor, Trev," The woman smiles seductively. "Same thing, right?" She laughs and caresses his cheek, rubbing it softly. He feels the slight callous on her hands. "Now. As much as I want to be here for a friendly visit-" He holds back a weak scoff. "-I'm not. I'm here for something, and I do believe you know what it is."
"I don't..."
"Don't you?" The woman's head is cocked to the side, and she presses her lips to his gently, biting his lip until the large cut she creats bleeds. She leans back and smiles at her achievement. "You're so cute!" She squeals, and leans against him. He cringes and recoils as far as possible with disgust. She ignores his revolted look. "I really don't want to hurt you, Trev, so why don't you just hand it over?"
"I. Don't. Have. It."
The woman's expression becomes a bit harder, and she presses his head into the jaggedly broken wall behind him. He bites his lip, but cries out anyway, because of the cut she gave him and the broken bricks pressing against his skull. She shakes her own head. "I don't like dirty jobs, Trevor Zaber. I don't like them at all. Now, hand it over and I won't hurt you. If you don't, however, I just might have to."
"I don't know what you're talking about!" Trevor shrieks angrily. He is fed up with this. It's not a game, and he realizes how close his life string is to being cut as his attacker summons a large, unrecognizable gun. Her glare deepens, and she balances the large gun on her shoulder.
"I told you, Trev." She says in a deep, dark voice. "This is no game. I don't want to, but if I have to, I will not hesitate to hurt you." She smiles suddenly, jumping forward and kissing his cheek. "But, that's okay, considering at least you won't be dead!" With that, she aims the gun, and before he's able to cry out, Trevor is on the ground, blood already blanketing the ground around him. His t-shirt it loose and some of the blood pools inside, wetting his chest with the foul liquid.
His vision blurs and the woman sits next to him, setting his head in her lap, stroking his hair while whistling a sweet, quick tune. Once it ends, she repeats it. It's the last thing he hears, her whistling. He doesn't know wether or not it's the last thing he'll ever hear.
He didn't have to open his eyes to know someone was beside him. Their steady, slow breathing... the light, impatient tapping on the bedside... the shifting of a body every now and then. Trevor wanted to open his eyes, to see who exactly it was.
He also wanted to know wether or not it was that woman. She had a name, but he didn't like saying it. It felt bitter, like copper, on his tounge. She called herself Mistress, but was really named Jaquelette Stryder. Trevor didn't really know anything about Jaquelette, but he did know she had an uncanny crush on him.
He'd first realized it when they first met, when Trevor's parents "disappeared".
He'd been five years old, in the backyard of their mansion. His parents, Joseph and Regina Zaber, owned a large functioning record company. They were sucessful, kind, and wealthy. They gave opprotunities out like it was a charity and never failed to find wonderful talents. Some of the world's best had been requested by Joseph and Regina. Trevor wasn't alone a lot, like most rich children in dramas and movies. He was fortunae enough to have his parents be at home until twelve in the mornings and come home around seven on weekdays. They took weekends off, working at home. The maids and butlers kept him company while they were away, and Trevor never got lonely.
He was practicing magic unsupervised for the first time, and no one knew about it. He'd learned a few small spells like lumos and even accio. But he'd never done anything to do with magic without his mother or father with him. He remembered it clearly.
It was a Friday, and there were no clouds in the sky. He'd told the maids he was going outside to play soccor with himself. (Being rich didn't make people like you immediately. They were often too scared to introduce themselves in fear of being rejected by higher authority. Trevor never understood that, but his mother always shrugged, smiled, and said "You will".) Once outside, he'd pulled out his wand and had begun chanting easy spells. He liked to call them level one spells, and whenever his father praised him for his good magical work, Trevor would ask if he could move on to level two spells. His father always said "Not yet", or "Maybe soon". It annoyed and motivated Trevor at the same time. Trevor had pulled out his father's old book- he liked to call it a Magic Book, even though it wasn't anything paranormal or special. His father had just written down all of the spells Trevor would learn overtime.
Trevor, at five years old, was a very smart boy. He'd thought for himself enough to know that he was ready. He was good enough. He decided practicing before his father actually began level two would be fun- he couldn't wait to impress his father. He'd be blown away.
But he was wrong. Boy was he wrong.
He read through the spells, getting more bored and tired every minute. Then he found it- the type of spell he'd been searching for! It was an extremely interesting spell- very easy, Trevor thought. It was a spell that made things disappear. Wether it was into a different dimention or just another location, it made them leave where they were at the moment, then "transport" to another place of the spellcaster's will. Trevor glanced at the apple tree, and muttered "Accio Apple!" He caught the round, scarlet apple as it flew at him. He set it on the ground and chanted the spell, hoping fervently it would work.
"Dispara!" He shouted, losing himself in the charm. He watched as the apple shimmered around the edges, and then seemed to vanish from within its core. He grinned. He did it!
He got another apple and tried again, then again, then again. He was doing it perfectly! And to think this was a level four spell! It was so easy! He got another apple.
This time, his joy clouded his mind. As he spoke the charm, his father's face and mother's face flashed through his mind. He couldn't wait to show them his new trick.
He finished up and went inside, gathering the Magic Book and placing it in the exact same spot on the bookshelf. He sat on the velvet couch, turning the muggle television on and watching whatever he could find. Then, at approximately seven fifty two, a pair of maids came into the room tenatively. They took one look at Trevor, bursting into tears.
He wasn't sure when he knew. Maybe it was when they entered cautiously. Maybe when they sobbed. Maybe it was when they sat on both sides of Trevor and clung to him, rocking him back and forth, murmuring "I'm so sorry..." again and again.
He felt his body get cold and his heart pound in his thoughts. He took a breath with each pound. One... Two. Three... One... Two. Three... He never forgot the sense of dread in the moment they told him what happened.
"We can't find them! They've... they've gone missing." One maid told Trevor, kissing his head over and over. He felt her tears drip onto his cheek, and slide down, and was suddenly holding back cries of his own. "I'm so sorry, Master Trevor... I'm so, so sorry...!" With that, her sobs racked her body, choking the words right out of her.
Trevor sat in that room for a while –how long was it? Maybe a week. Yes, a week. He sat in the room, huddled in his own, small ball, letting the maids and butlers come and go as they pleased. They put breakfast, lunch, and dinner in that room, and Trevor ate every meal. Not only did he have a large appitite, but he knew starving himself wouldn't help his parents. He had to find a way to get them back! Sometimes he would lie on the couch and stare out the window that streatched all the way from one side of the wall to the other. He knew in the pit of his stomache he'd messed up. He'd been thinking about his parents too much while doing the spell for the last time that day, and had made them disappear. The apples had gone, and so had his parents.
Without realizing it, his eyes had opened, and he found himself staring at the dome-like ceiling. Then, he found someone –the same someone that had been sitting next to him since he'd come back to reality- was calling him.
"Hey. Hey!" The voice said, albeit urgently. Trevor glanced at the boy beside him. He sat straight, looking at Trevor intently. "Are you okay?" He leaned forward a tiny bit, anxious for the "yes" he expected –and hoped- would come. Trevor blinked.
"Um... I'm okay." He said. Who was this boy? Why was he with him? ... Speakng of that... Where was he?
The boy let out a huge, gusty sigh. "Good. Good." He seemed ecstatic. Did Trevor know him? He didn't think so... Then why was this boy so relieved? When the boy shook his hair out of his face, Trevor knew he never knew anyone who looked like that. He'd remember.
... Wait. What?
Did I just think another boy looked...? He couldn't even finish the thought, it was so absurd.
But in all honesty... this boy was very handsome.
"Hey, are you okay?" Trevor found his face only inches from the boy, who had worry written across his face. "Maybe you should sleep a little more."
"No, I'm okay." He repeated. He looked around and grimaced. "Mind telling me... where am I?"
"Oh, Hogwarts, of course." The boy smiled with an almost proud look about him. Before Trevor could question this "Hogwarts", the door to the –what Trevor assumed was- the infirmary swung open. Another boy, about the same age as the one by his bed, looked in, right in their direction. His eyes locked on Trevor's and he hurried to Trevor's other side.
"Hello." The boy said in a kind, soft voice. Trevor found himself wanting to hear more. No, no, no. Trevor thought cautiously. Not like that... not like that. I'm not... I'm not gay! Even as he thought this, he knew the new boy was also beautiful. The boy smiled at Trevor. "How are you doing? You must be confused."
Trevor was silent for a minute before nodding. "Yeah... I am, actually." He was glad this boy –whoever he was- was helping. He glanced at the other boy, who was still staring at Trevor intently. Trevor looked down at the sheets, his hands clenching around them. He looked up at the new boy. "Where am I?"
"I told you, Hogwarts." The first boy repeated, rolling his eyes with a slight smile.
The second boy shot a sympathetic look at Trevor, then a slightly annoyed, amused one at the first boy. "You're at Hogwarts, School Of Witchcraft and Wizardry." The boy said. "I'm Remus Lupin, by the way. He's Sirius Black." Remus pointed to the other boy, who hesitated before grinning at Trevor and –By, God- he winked at him! Sirius had winked at Trevor. Trevor blushed furiously, the blossoming heat on his cheeks incredibly visable against his tan skin. Wait. Why was he blushing? Because it's hot in here. Trevor thought determinedly. It must be, like, one hundred degrees in here. NOT because of Sirius Black. He knew otherwise. Sirius smiled smugly, proud of himself.
Remus coughed, demanding Trevor's attention. When he looked back at Remus, Trevor didn't notice the slight glare Remus sent at Sirius, who stared back levelly.
"I don't know the story exactly, but the Headmaster –Albus Dumbledore- told us to stay with you until you awoke. You looked a bit beaten up when you got here. Bruises and cuts... It didn't look good. Just what happened, if you don't mind telling me?" Remus asked tenitively. Trevor bit his lip.
"I... ah..." He looked down, ashamed. It was his fault. His fault his parents were gone. (He refused to believe they were dead.) His fault that woman was after him. His fault he was lying in a hospital bed –infirmary bed?- and not at home with his maids and butlers, studying any way to save his beloved parents.
Then he realized what Remus had said. Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Wizardry. Wizardry! Was this really a school for the magically gifted? He couldn't believe it.
"You don't have to tell us." Remus said quickly. He paused. "Not yet, at least." He smiled at Trevor, and Trevor's grip on the blankets loosened a fraction. Remus, seeming to notice, smiled wider.
"Uhm... Where exactly is Hogwarts? What country? Canada? America? ... Not Mexico, right?" He gasped. "I'm not in South America, am I?"
"No, no," Remus shook his head, stifling his chuckles. "You're in London, England. The UK. Are you from America?"
"Yeah... I'm in London... huh?" Trevor was, to put it simply, dazed. He couldn't possibly see how he could've gotten from Maryland, USA to the UK in a single night. Unless he'd been out for longer. "How long was I out?"
"Well, its been about two days since the Headmaster brought you here." Remus murmured, seeming to calculate. Sirius jumped into the conversation then.
"Yep, two full days. You like to sleep, kiddo?" He asked, grinning as Trevor scowled.
"I'm not a kid. I'm fifteen. And my name isn't 'kiddo', it's Trevor Zaber." He protested, 'humphing' like a young child being told he couldn't have a cookie. "How old are you, huh?"
Sirius grinned wider, laughing. "I'm fifteen, too. But I can bet I'm taller than you." He paused, smirking. "But, I bet the whole fifth year is taller than you."
Trevor pouted. Okay, so I'm a tiny bit shorter than the average fifteen year old boy. So what? Remus, who had finished his thinking, smiled at Trevor and Sirius.
"Oh, come on, Sirius," Remus shook his head, standing up. "We should get to class. We've been excused for way too long." Trevor felt a slight sting in his chest, not wanting them to leave. He barely knew what was going on, nontheless anyone else in this god forsaken place. These two were the only ones he knew so far. And they were leaving already, and he had more questions than answers. He needed to get a grip on the situation! At that thought, panic flooded through his paranoid side.
"Ah- wait!" Trevor threw his arm forward, grabbing Remus's sleeve. Remus looked surprised before smiling softly.
"Don't worry, Trevor," Remus patted Trevor's hand. "We'll be back right after dinner. We'll bring you something, okay?"
Trevor's grip didn't loosen. Sirius put his hands behind his head and glanced at Trevor, winking.
"The food in the infirmary isn't that good, anyway." He joked, and Trevor let his hand fall.
"... Okay." He murmured. Remus patted his hand again, which lay on the sheets, and left with Sirius on his tail, waving to Trevor until he was out of sight. Trevor let a deep breath out and lay back on the pillows. He was surprised to find his eyes drooping. He'd been asleep for two full days, right? He wondered why he was so exhausted.
Without contemplating it much –not being able to concentrate much- he rolled over and closed his eyes. Even with his fatigue and the warm matress under him, he couldn't be pulled into sleep.
He found himself wishing Remus Lupin and Sirius Black would come back soon. Preferrably with something to eat.