*Originally posted on DeviantArt, under the name PEORTHMOON. I am active on DeviantArt, and only post here on occasion.
Fandom: Dance Central/Dance Central 2 Pairing: Angel/Bodie Warning: The featured text contains FLUFFY MALE/MALE ROMANCE. IF YOU'RE ALLERGIC TO FLUFFY MALE/MALE ROMANCE, PLEASE STEER CLEAR.
Second Warning: This also contains graphic, violent material.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything, save for the summary. And the laptop I'm writing this on.
Abuelita: Grandmother
Inspired by ScouterV's 'AngelxMac' commission.
Happy New Year, everyone! From the bottom of my heart.
Welts and bruises painted his face, chest and arms.
Lightning tore his organs to shreds. He never would have imagined developing a fear of lightning, but on that night, fear swallowed him whole. And the night sky was torn apart by the fiercest, brightest light imaginable. Neither beauty nor happiness were given on that night, for they had been destroyed in favor of devastation. Chaos that was powerful enough to slaughter a hundred souls.
Welts and bruises painted his body, but a grating nocturne had not yet finished its work. Laughter burned his ears as fists burned into him. Bats crushed the skin that was once immaculate, transforming it into something unimaginable. Relief swept through him, but only for a moment. Ice cold hands lifted him from the floor, then thrust him against the trouble.
It only took a second for him to realize what was going on. He opened his mouth in protest, but soon had it covered by a white cloth. Even greater lightning erupted once his clothes were undone, violently torn off and cast onto the cold floor. Faces loomed over him, each one equal in their ugliness. Each one deceptively beautiful, but horrendous in spirit.
"Cry all you like, sweetheart. Ain't no one gonna hear ya."
He reserved tears for life's darkest moments. So far, all of those moments centered around death. The death of his parents, the recent death of his grandmother, and the death of his sanity. On a night that should've been special, he was being torn apart-over matters that never should have exploded. Far too many games had gone in his favor, and apparently a select few were unhappy about his success. He recognized his tormentors, but dared not to put names to their faces.
Why risk summoning the Devil, when one was already in Hell's bowels?
"Once we're through with you, no one's gonna want yer pretty eyes."
"Yer gonna take this like the whore you are, pretty boy!"
"That'll teach you to screw with us!"
If eating the cloth would've given him the chance to scream, he would've swallowed it whole. A crimson red mouth, and the coldest hands, prevented him from making such a move. Instead, with whimpers from the soul, he was forced to submit. He could only watch as familiar tormentors tore into him, each one laughing as they did so.
He could only watch as the night, his night, was taken away from him.
It was night several weeks in the making. All crews were on holiday vacation, and the second that vacation began, he began planning. It became his life's purpose to give Bodie a memorable New Year's. A celebration he would forever remember, with a smile and that familiar twinkle in his eyes. Just thinking of Bo's reaction to the celebration carved smiles all over Angel's heart.
But several hours before midnight, the coldest hands saw fit to end that monument to life. Before it even had a chance to begin.
He could only watch as his captors pleasured themselves, corrupting everything that had once been flawless. For far too long, he used his body to pleasure countless strangers. Women that meant absolutely nothing to him. Once Emilia's brother swept him off his feet, he knew there was no turning back. And why would he ever want to turn back, facing the life-giving substance known as 'love'?
But purity was a thing of the past. Never again would there be the touch of warm, encouraging, soothing love. The dream had come to an end, and Angel could only watch it slip by.
Beyond the windows, fireworks burst onto a cerulean canvas. Nightclubs had begun their New Year's Eve party early, smothering the world in infectious energy. He knew nothing of where he was, but saw pieces of a celebration he would miss.
Wounds throbbed with intensity so great, he wished he could rip the skin off his bones. Slitting his wrists would've been the perfect follow up. Not only that, but his newest 'friends' were having even more fun, burying their rock hard shafts into him. Not only would he be unrecognizable to his friends, but no longer would he be able to touch, taste or embrace-
The very one he wanted to see. The only one that had ever been able to make him really smile. The one responsible for comforting him, at his abuelita's funeral.
The one he wanted to confess eternity to, on the brink of their future.
But dreams had met their end. No longer was he worthy-
Of the treasure he so desperately missed.
"Try to calm down, bro. Who knows? Maybe he's out and about, playin' around somewhere! We all know how he is!"
Calming down was the last bullet point on Bodie's agenda. A point he didn't care to touch, until the matter at hand was resolved. Pacing in suite #70 of the Embassy Suites, he knew no rest would be found until a certain brunette returned to the picture. Nothing about the vibrant, resplendent fireworks soothed him, for his mind was engulfed in fear. "We haven't seen him in hours," Riptide's stud said, reminding everyone of the apprehension that plagued the night.
The suite was once a portrait of tranquility, filled to its rims with magic. Dance Central members were once at their happiest, prepared to have the biggest celebration of their lives. But once a certain poker player fell off the face of the Earth, the world shifted. It twisted and turned, then thrust its corrupted insides onto a black floor.
"I know this is normal behavior, but something just doesn't feel right! Brey, Mo and Glitch evidently felt the same!"
Aubrey never admitted it, but her love for Angel surpassed a sister's love for her brother. She choked whenever the Prince of Tango flirted with her, and was ecstatic over his infatuation for Emilia's brother, but loved him something fierce. Not to mention they were crewmates-and the bond between mates was one of intense power. Picking up on Bodie's discomfort, she bolted from the suite and vowed to search every casino in town.
"Damn that wretched son of a bitch. He was supposed to be here HOURS ago! How can he chart us off to this party of his if he isn't even HERE?"
That was right. The Santana promised them a celebration to remember. Bodie was supposed to be at the center of the new year's monument, apparently destined to receive some sort of present. But on that night, no one would be receiving anything. The maestro of ceremonies had gone missing, leaving his friends breathless and restless. Mo and Glitch, perfectly in sync even in sleep, bolted right after Brey. None of them were comfortable with Angel's sudden silence.
Especially since Mo had been a long-time friend.
Time passed at an unbearable rate. The blonde Matheson wanted so much to contact the local authorities, but more than half of the force was on DUI Patrol. Missing adults could be reported if there was any reason for alarm, but Angel's track record shut that option down. Brey's crew mate was notorious for his long casino hours.
One of Bodie's Facebook pals caught Angel playing in a casino, teasing a batch of women under the influence. Emi's brother, in a manner that shocked the world, confronted the Tango Prince.
Three hours later, the Santana vanished.
Riptide was left behind. The other crews vowed to pinpoint Angel's location by midnight, but time was flying so quickly, Bodie doubted if any of them would find even a lock of the brunette's hair by New Year's Day. He could be in an orgy, for all I care, the blue-eyed beauty moaned inwardly, wanting so much to tear his caramel-scented hair out.
I just wish he'd come back! We're so close to midnight!
At the sound of a ringing phone, Emilia almost jumped out of the window. She raced to answer the enraged cell phone, but realized it was her brother's.
And the ringtone belonged to-
"Angel! Thank God. Where in the world are you? Do you realize what time it is?"
"Angie?"
The voice on the other end didn't belong to Brey's mate.
"Got a pretty present for ya, blue eyes. A little New Year's gift."
The newly acquired pallor of Bodie's face caused Emi to bite her lip. The lady brunette placed her hands on her hips, increasingly uncomfortable with the atmosphere. "Who is this?" her brother asked, desperately suppressing fear in favor of wrath.
"No one special. Jus' one of yer boyfriend's play mates. Just finished playin' a nice game o' cards, and thought you'd like to take 'im home."
"Where is he? Let me speak to him, NOW!"
"Nothin' doin, sweet heart. Yer boy toy's...unavailable. At least he is right now, anyway. Meet 'im right outside the Azure. He'll be waitin' for ya."
The Azure was one of the city's biggest hotspots. Well known for its Blackjack, martinis and dance floors, it ended up as one of the greatest spots to ring in the new year.
Bodie and Emilia found one of the Azure's greatest customers in the garbage.
Thirty minutes landed Riptide in the nearest hospital. Devoted doctors and nurses rushed one of their newest patients into Intensive Care-
While Emilia failed at comforting her brother.
I'd kill myself a million times to erase this from his memory.
Being an unbelievably humble, innocent soul, her other half could not stomach the Santana's condition. Once the two of them found their Angel, Bodie's heart shattered into a million pieces. And the heartbreak was as visible as moonlight. It was as if the unseen tormentors had done their worst against Riptide's prince, as well.
By the stroke of midnight, all crews were in the waiting room. Miracle workers that had not been summoned to the New Year's Summit were well on their way.
And tears would not stop falling, coming from two broken hearts.