=-=-=-=-=-=-=
His heart was pounding. He could hear the grunts and soft
moans of the man above him, could feel the slickness of his skin as sweaty
bodies rubbed together. He could feel the grip on his shoulders tighten
as the pace of their thrusts grew more intense, grew faster. It was almost
time. He leaned in and nuzzled the side of the man's neck, his tongue sliding
out to taste salty flesh.
He felt the pulse under his tongue quicken as the man
above him cried out. He took that as his cue and sank his teeth into the
pliant flesh as he was flooded by the other's release.
As if in a trance, the body atop him pulled out and sagged
against him, not even fighting back as he fed. A soft moan of satisfaction
issued deep from his throat as he savoured it like wine. The sweet red
nectar filled his whole body with warmth. His own cry of ecstasy was muffled
into the man's neck as he felt the heat in his groin explode and dissolve.
Gods, how he loved hunting.
He eased his teeth out of the flesh and licked a trace
of blood off his lips.
"Are you satisfied now?" he asked quietly. He neither
expected nor received an answer, as the body was now rhythmically rising
and falling in slumber. He eased the body off him and quietly slid off
the sticky sheets.
The room was filled with the definite scent of sex, salty-sweet
odors of sweat and release. It wouldn't do him any good to walk down the
streets afterward, with that smell still clinging to him. 'I might as well
just run outside naked and scream "I JUST GOT FUCKED" at the top of my
lungs,' he thought bitterly.
Before stepping into the shower, he paused in front of
the mirror to survey his body. He was so used to his naïve façade
that he felt the sudden urge to cover himself. A faint blush stained his
cheeks as he turned away from his naked image, small hands cupping over
his genitals to shield them from everyone's eyes. Of course, he was the
only person in the room, but the habit forced its way through him before
he could stop it. He shook his head in disgust, before stretching his arms
upward in a yawn.
He was a virgin. He was shy and innocent, beautiful yet
untouched, and every man who fucked him was the one he gave it to. Half
of them didn't even know his name, the other half could have cared less,
and they were all drunk or intoxicated by drugs…or perhaps even both. Every
one of them took from him and gave nothing in return, and he was the one
who ended up leaving them in the end. Of course, it was not like they remembered
him in the morning, right? And he was taking a lot more than he let on.
Unlike others of his kind, he left his victims alive.
Unconscious for a while, yes, but it could have been attributed to the
intoxication as well as the inevitable exhaustion from sex. He just couldn't
bring himself to end their lives.
Of course, he could get away with killing if he truly
wanted to. Nobody would suspect such a darling little angel of committing
murder. Lush lips pressed together in a frown as he studied his reflection
in the mirror. A slim build, not too thin but not bulky either; covered
in supple, milky skin that no one could ever resist touching. Soft, tousled
pale gold hair that fell over a pair of large sea-coloured eyes. The perfect
image of an innocent, defenseless child. It was no wonder so many wanted
him.
Quatre yawned again, lips parting back to reveal bloodstained
canines and taint the beautiful image. He looked down at his arms, idly
ran a finger down one white wrist streaked with blue veins. He loved to
sit in the darkness alone and hack at his body with razor blades; watch
the blood pool up all around him. The pain felt so wonderful, and because
of the way he was, the wounds would all heal up in a matter of minutes.
No trace of anything could be left behind, not even a scar. He could just
wallow in nothing but pain for hours and hours and have absolutely nothing
to show for it. Nobody needed to care.
Quatre brushed away the tears gathering in his eyes before
they had a chance to fall. 'Idiot,' he chided himself silently before stepping
into the shower. He turned the water on and simply sat under it, watching
the water rush over his body and disappear into the drain beside him. He
wanted to cut himself, wanted to watch the blood mix in with the water
and turn it pink. Pink was such a happy colour. However, there were no
razors in sight, and he knew that he had to leave as fast as he could before
the man who picked him up would awaken.
'Let it wait,' he thought. 'Let it all wait.' Maybe if
the older man would wake up and come into the bathroom, he wouldn't be
shocked to find a naked kid in his shower. He'd probably go in there and
fuck him again, completely oblivious to the tears running down his cheeks.
Maybe they weren't tears, anyway. Maybe they were just water from the shower.
Quatre suddenly felt naked and ashamed, and he hunched
over as he buried his face in his hands. He sat under the showerhead for
a long time, sobbing and letting the warm water gently caress his body
the way his one-night lovers never did. Eventually though, the water started
to run cold and he reached up to turn it off.
There weren't any towels in the small bathroom, and considering
the state of its occupant's bedroom he didn't trust any of the ones on
his floor to be clean. He shook himself off lightly and wandered back into
the bedroom again where his clothes lay in a heap on the floor. He dressed
quickly but quietly, keeping an eye on the sleeping form in case of the
off chance that he would awaken.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Quatre pushed his way into the small club, pausing to
run a hand through rain-soaked locks. While "Black Eagle", the club's name,
was not officially a gay bar, it still had its fair share of homosexual
and bisexual patrons. He noticed with some smug satisfaction the large
number of samesex couples dancing close together under the flickering strobe
lights.
His clothing wasn't elaborate, but it wasn't simple either.
He wore a short-sleeved silk green blouse, but left it unbuttoned to show
a lovely view of his smooth chest. He also wore a pair of baggy blue jeans,
the frayed cuffs brushing against the floor when he walked.
As Quatre took a seat at the bar, he happened to glance
at the DJ over by the large speakers. He raised an eyebrow. This was definitely
not the same one that had been turning the tables since Quatre had started
frequenting here, and possibly even longer than that. This one was a lot
younger, and definitely more attractive than the last one.
"Don't hold your breath kiddo, he already has a boyfriend."
Quatre turned around at the voice, his gaze meeting a
pair of deep violet eyes. His own widened in surprise. "Duo?!"
Duo grinned, exposing gleaming canines, and casually flicked
his dark braid over his shoulder. "That's my name."
"What are you doing here?!"
Duo scoffed. "Not even a hello, just a 'what are you doing
here?!'" he mimicked. "I applied for a job here, and I got it. Am I clever
or what?"
Quatre snorted, pulling off his blouse and setting it
on the counter in front of him. "Sorry I wounded your ego. You just startled
me."
Duo ran his tongue across the point of one sharp fang.
"I guess you really were entranced by our new DJ, then. Like I said though,
he already has a boyfriend."
"That hasn't stopped me before. Besides, there's no harm
in looking. Jealous?"
The young man behind the bar leaned in closer, warm breath
stirring the skin at Quatre's ear. "Why would I be jealous?" he purred.
"You know I could just take you right on the bar right now if I wanted
to."
Quatre rolled his eyes, calmly pushing him away with one
hand. "You would also get fired."
Duo shrugged, that feral grin still plastered on his face.
"So are you gonna order something or not? Damn it, humour your best friend
on his first night on the job!"
"Fine. I'll have a Bloody Mary. No pun intended."
Duo giggled and slapped the bar table. "You're cute! Oh
man, I gotta stop sampling the bottles when nobody's looking…"
While Quatre waited for his drink, he turned back around
to watch the man—or boy, really—who was handling the music that pounded
across the dance floor. His chest was completely bare save for a gold Chinese
dragon necklace that hung around his neck, and the well-defined muscles
of his torso glistened with sweat underneath the pulsating coloured lights.
He wore a pair of black leather pants that hugged the contours of his hips
nicely. His hair was a rich deep brown, and parted in such a way that his
long bangs drifted down to obscure one eye. Quatre's eyes automatically
drifted to his neck, tongue unconsciously slipping out to lick his lips.
It had been a long time since he had tasted sweet young blood, and suddenly
he realized just how much he had been hungering for it.
"Bloody Mary!"
There was a loud rap behind him as Duo clanked his glass
down on the table, startling Quatre out of his thoughts yet again. He spun
around and shot Duo a glare before fumbling for his wallet. "How much?"
Duo waved his hand. "Don't worry about it. It's on the
house." He looked over Quatre's shoulder at the DJ. "Still fixated on him?"
Quatre stretched lazily in his seat, before taking a sip
of his drink. "He is a pretty one," he mused. "It's shame that he's taken,
though. Is his boyfriend here?"
Duo nodded. "That's why I said, don't hold your breath…he's
coming over here, anyway." He pointed out a figure heading over towards
them. "He's probably coming to bitch at me for another Sam Adams again.
I might as well have it ready for him." He turned his back just as the
figure strode up.
"Adams."
"I'm getting it! Jesus!"
"Good."
The Chinese boy casually tucked a strand of dark hair
behind his ear. Quatre glanced at his back, and noticed the long Oriental
dragon winding its way over one broad shoulderblade. It disappeared under
the waistband of his blue vinyl pants, and Quatre wondered just how far
down it went. "I like your tattoo," he said shyly.
The boy nodded in thanks as Duo handed him a large foaming
mug, then turned to Quatre. "Thanks."
Duo yawned. "This is my best friend, Quatre. He's been
drooling over your bitch for a while."
Quatre blushed. "Duo doesn't know what he's talking about."
The Chinese youth smirked. "You don't have to try and
deny it on account of me. I don't care." He took a long drink of his beer,
then set the mug down with a clank. "Ah…forgive me for not introducing
myself. I am Dragon."
Quatre nodded. "Pleased to meet you."
Duo rested his elbows on the countertop, and leaned on
them. "Actually, his real name is Woofie, but he only lets certain people
call him that."
Dragon snorted. "It's Wufei, not 'Woofie'."
"But Woofie sounds so much cuter!"
The Asian boy just rolled his eyes in response.
"Sorry everyone, but I'm taking a break," came the soft
but deep voice over the final fading beats of the current song. "It's hot
over here and I really need a drink." Choosing another song to play, the
DJ slid out of his seat and headed over towards the bar.
"Hey, look who it is!" Duo waved as the boy approached
the countertop. "Lemme guess, you need a beer too, Trowa?"
Trowa inclined his head to give Dragon a brief but deep
kiss. "No, get me a vodka."
Glancing down, Quatre noticed that Trowa's legs were a
lot longer than he thought he saw from a distance. His gaze drifted up
to Trowa's neck. So slender… He felt his pants grow tighter as he wondered
how soft the skin would be under his lips, how sweet it would taste…
"Shaken, not stirred!" Duo added dramatically, setting
the glass on the countertop with a thump and startling Quatre out of his
daydreams for what seemed like the hundredth time. The blond averted his
gaze to the countertop.
He heard Dragon snort again beside him. "That's a martini,
you idiot."
"Close enough!"
Quatre looked up at his friend. "Duo, are you drunk by
any chance?"
Duo hiccuped and gave his friend a sloppy grin. "There's
just so much selection back here, I can't help tasting everything…cut me
some slack, man!"
Quatre rolled his eyes for what also seemed like the hundredth
time, and he noticed that Trowa was staring at him intently, silently sipping
his drink.
"Oi, Trowa!" Duo snapped his fingers, and Trowa seemed
to be startled out of his trancelike state. "Shit, I have crappy manners.
Trowa, this is Quatre. Quatre; Trowa."
Quatre forced a shy smile. "Hi."
Trowa nodded. "Hello. Sorry about that, you just looked
familiar."
"Yeah right, you were checking him out! Don't deny it!"
Trowa shot Duo a glare. "No, I was serious." He turned
back to the blond. "I don't know why though, but I could have sworn I met
you before."
"That is SUCH a cheesy pick-up line, Tro. I figured you
could do better than that."
"Shut UP, Duo," Quatre growled. He turned back to the
taller boy. "I come here a lot, so maybe you've seen me here."
Trowa shook his head. "No, that's not it…I mean, I feel
like I actually know you from somewhere. Not just seeing you, but actually
knowing you." He downed the rest of his glass and stood up. "I feel like
dancing."
"You need to get back to the turntables," Duo pointed
out.
"No I don't. I need to dance." He turned to Dragon. "Do
you want to?"
"Not with you," Dragon snarled, before turning on his
heel and storming off.
Trowa recoiled slightly. He took a few steps forward as
if he wanted to follow his lover, but the Chinese boy had already melted
back into the crowds. He heaved a sigh and flopped back onto his seat.
"What's with him…?"
"He's probably just jealous." Duo yawned and stretched.
"Man, this is boring. Dance with Cat. He'll dance with you."
Quatre blushed again. "Well…I can't dance very well…"
Trowa sighed. "You don't have to if you don't want to…I
guess I should go back and start DJing again. Nice meeting you."
He stood up again, but Quatre grabbed his arm. "Wait,
don't go. I didn't say I wouldn't. I'm just not very good at it." When
Trowa just looked at him blankly, he added, "Please?"
Trowa blinked once and smiled softly. "Sure," he said
quietly. He took the blond's hand and led him towards the dance floor,
where the throbbing music grew louder and deeper, until he could feel it
pounding in his chest. "There's not really anything to it. Just move with
the beat…and me."
"Are you sure Dragon won't mind?" Quatre inquired tentatively
as Trowa slid his arms around his waist. He shivered lightly at the feel
of that grip around him. It was…gentle. Shyly, he slipped his own around
the other boy's sculpted torso.
Trowa tensed slightly, and Quatre couldn't tell whether
it was because of his embrace or his question. Finally he said, "Wufei
doesn't care. He only draws the line when clothes start coming off. Other
than that everything's fine. So I don't know why he got upset when Duo
said I was checking you out."
"I'm sorry," Quatre said softly.
Trowa sighed. "It's okay. Don't worry about it."
They moved together as one. The pulsating lights turned
Trowa's torso all different colours: red, blue, green, purple, then red
again. Quatre glanced around nervously; it seemed like all eyes were on
him. But not a single person was paying attention to them – everyone else
was too busy focusing on each other. He sighed and leaned his head against
Trowa's chest. The soft pounding of his heart beneath warm flesh was soothing,
and he let his eyes slide closed. He felt Trowa's arms wrap closer around
him, and something not quite unfamiliar tugged at his heart. Gods, how
long had he truly been yearning for something simple like this? Just to
be held?
Trowa's deep voice rumbled beneath Quatre's ear. "When
did you start coming here?"
Quatre lifted his head. "I'm not sure. About six months
ago, maybe?"
Trowa nodded slowly. "I don't understand it then. Why
I feel like I should know you…" He cupped Quatre's cheek with one hand,
calmly holding his gaze, and for the first time since they met that night,
Quatre could actually see the colour of his eyes.
Green.
They weren't bright green like a cat's; they were more
like the sweet bright green of fresh new leaves. He could read every emotion
in those eyes: sadness, loneliness, pain, fear, rejection…and he knew that
they weren't just because of the way Dragon had blown him off earlier.
He wasn't happy. He hadn't been happy for an extremely long time, practically
an eternity, and Quatre could see this.
"You have beautiful eyes," he said quietly. Something
in the back of his mind stirred, like he had seen these eyes before somewhere.
It wasn't quite a memory, it was more like a dream that faded and left
only glimpses of what happened in the mind's eye.
To his surprise, Trowa blushed faintly before resting
his head on Quatre's shoulder. He sighed softly. "I'm sorry."
"About what?"
"I don't know. Frightening you, maybe? Or coming on too
strong. I'm not trying to pick you up, like the bartender said…"
"It's okay," Quatre hushed him. "I think I feel the same
way too. I know I've seen those eyes somewhere." He swallowed hard, trying
to ignore the fact that Trowa's long, slender neck was filling most of
his vision.
Trowa uttered a soft chuckle. "Maybe we met in a past
life or something," he teased.
"I wouldn't be surprised," Quatre said quietly.
Trowa lifted his head from Quatre's shoulder. "We should
talk sometime," he ventured. "Come see me before the bar closes and I'm
done with the turntables, and I'll give you my number…?"
Quatre nodded. "I'd like that."
Trowa smiled. "Thanks." He leaned in and kissed Quatre
once on the lips before releasing his hold around his waist. "See you later."
Even as he watched Trowa move back through the crowd towards
the speakers, Quatre still couldn't shake the weird feeling that everyone
was watching him. He looked around, but everything was still as it was
before. Then a flash of blue caught his eye.
Standing about forty feet away from him, completely ignoring
the other dancers around him, was Dragon. His expression was completely
unreadable, but when Quatre met his dark eyes, a tiny smirk lifted the
corners of his mouth before he turned and melted back into the crowd.
-~TBC~-
