RIFT
This short piece takes place on the ship of the Count on episode 15 prior to Albert's return to Paris.
"Please stay in Paris forever! Or rather, if you say that's not possible, then please let me come with you!"
The Count stared at the boy with a hollow look in his eyes. He was utterly still, his body expressing no emotion.
"I don't want to be apart from you!" cried his young friend, Albert, who so relentlessly tried to persuade The Count's better judgment.
Not a word was spoken from the boy's significant other. He was unfazed by Albert's desperate attempt to convince him to return to Paris. Though it only lasted but a moment, a thought struck the man's mind.
"You. . . You care about me that much?" The Count asked, his thoughts becoming the sound that escaped his lips.
"Yes," Albert said with a quick nod.
The man's eyes softened and a small smile spread across his lips. "Passions fade eventually. . . ."
"That's not true!" Albert said with his fists clenched tightly to his sides, "I. . . You. . . ."
The Count raised his hand under the boy's chin and gazed into his eyes. Those large brown orbs stared deeply into The Count's discolored red and yellow gaze with a profound innocence that drew him in.
"Count. . . ."
"You are so naïve," The Count whispered with a small smile. He leaned forward and pressed his cold lips against the boy's warm soft mouth.
Albert's eyes dilated in response to this sudden affection. He pulled back quickly and stared at him with a shocked face. The Count laughed at Albert's childish reaction, finding it amusing.
"Why won't you leave me alone?" he asked the boy while taking small steps forward each time the boy backed away.
"Because . . . !"
"Because?"
Albert leaned back against the couch and stared at The Count looming over him. His heart was beginning to pound in his chest from the sheer anxiety of being cornered.
"Y-You mean so much to me! Being with you. . . It makes me feel special. . . I can't feel this way with anyone else! Not mom, not dad—"
"What about your friend you so dearly place your trust into?"
"F-Franz? No! Not Franz! Franz is. . . Is special to me in an entirely different way. . . ."
The man raised his hand placed it on the boy's face. A small noise uttered from the boy's throat upon his touch. "So cold. . . ." he whispered.
"Albert," the man spoke in a stern tone, "Do not love me."
"What? Count—"
"Love will only crumble into despair. It tortures you, eats you alive—"
The boy clasped on to the man's wrist and gritted his teeth.
"Love isn't bad! Love is wonderful! It makes people happy—It brings them together and in the end creates more love! How could you say such a terrible thing?" the boy cried out.
The man brushed his thumb against the boy's cheek with a solemn look on his face. "You are like a lamb. . . Untainted by the flaws of adulthood. . . . "
The boy's cheeks flushed, his heart pounded harder in his chest. The man leaned forward and pressed his lips against his gently; his long dark tresses curtaining his countenance. The boy's stomach leapt in excitement. He wrapped his arms around the man's neck and moaned softly.
No witness was there to watch them, save the stars beyond the thick overhead window. The phonograph continued to play its eerie melody and the smoke from The Count's hookah clouded the atmosphere around them with a thin mist.
The boy gripped on to the man's shoulders as he deepened the kiss they shared. But before they could delve even deeper into their intimate moment, the boy pulled away bashfully; a thin string of saliva connecting the two. The man gasped a little as did the boy.
"Albert. . . ."
"This feels strange. . . I don't know if this is. . . ."
"If this is what you want?"
The boy only whimpered in response.
Icy blue fingers slid over the boy's neck and down his collar bone. The thin robe the boy wore acted as a thin veil that enveloped his soft skin, leaving it unprotected by The Count's chilling touch.
"Oh. . . ." the boy moaned weakly.
The Count laughed, "You are very sensitive."
"E-Excellency. . . Is this. . . Is this even. . . ."
"I thought you were the one who insisted upon love and yet now you doubt it?"
"Love! Love—I meant love in all terms not—"
The man caught the boy by his lips and silenced him. With a quick reaction, the boy pressed his palms against the man's chest. The intensity within him heightened when his fingers slipped past The Count's thin robe to his hard chest. As if on cue, the man took hold of Albert's hand and laced their fingers together. An overwhelming amount of emotions were pouring into the poor boy. Once again the boy pulled back and took in a deep breath of air.
"Count!" he moaned in an almost pained way.
The Count pressed his body against his; their robes were beginning to slip past their shoulders. He pressed his front against Albert's and nibbled on his neck, teasing him with his fangs. The boy whined in pleasure and gripped on to The Count's hair.
"I can feel your pulse against my lips," he teased.
"I-I can feel you becoming a little warmer," the boy whispered in return.
The Count chuckled to himself before pushing up Albert's knees, making him press his body against the sofa.
"W-What are you going to do to me?" he asked in a bit of a panic.
"Pleasure you of course."
"Pleasure me?"
The boy made a small shriek when his shaft was exposed. The Count knelt down and took hold of Albert's loins before licking his tip. An immediate sensation rushed up his abdomen.
"Ah!" the boy yelped before sitting up and curling his toes. "Excellency!"
The man said nothing as he continued to stimulate the boy's sensitive member. He eyed the boy's face, becoming aroused by the reactions he caused.
"You're craving me aren't you?" The Count asked, gripping on to the boy's shaft and moving his hand up and down. Albert was too dazed now to give an immediate response. Saliva was rolling down the corner of his lips which each heavy breath he took. The man grew very amused by his actions. He sat up to leave his face only inches apart from Albert's.
"You love me don't you? You want me. . . ."
"Count. . . Please. . . ."
The man laughed, almost mocking the boy's feelings for him.
"Don't laugh at me!" the boy barked.
"No, I'm not laughing at you. I am curious, oh so curious. If I were to insist myself upon you the same way you do to me, would you still show this reaction?"
"Excellency. . ." the boy spoke in a pitiful tone, "Please. . . I. . . I love you."
"Your mind is clouded."
"I know my feelings! I know them well enough to know that. . . That I would never be the same without you!" the boy yelled with his arms now around the man's neck again.
The man could not help but take pity in the boy's foolish affections. There was a girl far better fit for him than he could ever be, and a friend whose undying loyalty did not once falter even as the boy slipped away from him.
"Albert, do not regret this time we share together. Do not hate me for what I will do to you," the man said earnestly.
"Hh. . . Never. . . ."
The man lifted his hips and pushed himself into the boy. A sharp pain caused the boy to scream, but an even quicker response allowed him to clasp his hand over his mouth to muffle the sound. Slowly and steadily, the man pulled in and out of the boy, gripping on to the couch for support. The boy's arms were wrapped around the man's strong body, his heartbeat resonating in his ears. Sweat broke out and soaked their bodies, more so on the boy than on the man. Their vulgar intimacy seemed to go on relentlessly. Albert's eyes welled up in tears from the overwhelming pleasure; his sweet spot getting touched upon with each thrust as The Count went deeper and deeper into him.
"Oh! Oh my god!" the boy cried out in sheer pleasure.
The man grunted and clenched his teeth tightly. His brows were furrowed and his long dark curls stuck to his skin.
This experience in sensual pleasure warmed his heart. As much as he hated to admit it, the boy possessed so much of his mother's pulchritude that it almost felt as if he were with her once more. But did he love this boy as much as he loved her? His mind spun with mixed thoughts.
The boy's body was pounded by his significant other, causing him to rock against his will.
"Ah! AH!"
"A-Albert—!" the man suddenly cried out in pleasure, his release filling him in deep. The boy could not contain his shrieks of pain and arousal, his hand thankfully muffling out the sound once more as his own release gushed out of shaft.
The man's eyes widened, he looked down to see the boy's essence against his skin.
"S-Sorry! I'm sorry!"
He stared at it then lowered his hand and rubbed it against the opaque substance. He lifted his fingers to his mouth then licked it off.
"Ah. . . ."
"C-Count. . . Count. . . ."
The man laughed as he cleaned off the rest of the secretion with his fingers and tongue. He then lowered his hand and pulled out of the boy despite the obvious pain that followed. Slowly he rubbed his hand against his tip and dabbed with the hot fluid before raising it to Albert's lips.
"Hh—What—"
"Go on—Taste me."
The boy slid his tongue against his fingers then cringed slightly.
"And still you maintain that sickening sweetness."
"Excellency. . . ." the boy muttered restlessly, trying to catch his breath.
The man leaned forward and kissed his cheek, licking the beauty spot.
"Ah. . . My heart's—"
A sudden knocking came to the door. The two of them glanced its way and immediately a wave of panic came over them.
"Who is it?" The Count asked.
"You have a letter from Paris," said the voice of The Count's loyal subject, Bertuccio.
Albert slapped his hands over his mouth and tried to keep silent.
The Count paused for a moment then sat up and away from Albert. He acted as if nothing happened.
"I'll be out in a minute," he responded to Bertuccio's voice. He glanced at Albert from the corner of his eye and held his hand out to him. Hesitantly, the boy took his hand and was hauled upwards.
"Put on your robe," The Count said sternly while doing the same, "I will fetch towels."
"No one will know?" uttered Albert.
The Count smiled weakly. "No one will know."
Albert smiled in return and gave a look that told The Count he trusted his word.
With a quick turn of the heel, the man walked to the door and left the boy behind. It was unfortunate for him to admit that after this he must bid him farewell.