I don't own Lost Souls. I don't own Knife of Romance either, but I'm using the translation from the Japanese song (ending theme to Angel Sanctuary.)
Kachikara: Happy Valentine's Day! I know it's the STUPIDEST Holiday in the whole year, but it's a good excuse to write romances, fluff, and lemons!
Justin: Do you NEED an excuse?
Rika: It's not fair that you're writing it to a book I haven't read yet!
Ren-chan: There better be StevexGhost in the back of a '77 Chevy!
Cari: I hate Steve and Ghost!
Rinny: ZillahxNothing, too, right? Please?
Kachikara: Yup, yup! Enjoy!
~
Fangs of Romance
Kinsey had the Sacred Yew decked out in red and white, with paper hearts on strings dangling from the rafters. The young people of Missing Mile, North Carolina, were gathered into the dark club. A group of single girls stood a one wall, tracking the single and non-single boys alike. The temporary DJ and his partner-boyfriend turned the Bauhaus up louder while Lost Souls? warmed up behind them.
Ghost's heart beat strangely. He could sense Steve's mantra-like train of thought- "I hate Valentine's Day. I hate Valentine's Day. I hate Valentine's Day"- mixed in among the lust and love coming from the dozens of kids pressed together. Through the haze of dope-smoke, fake-fog, decorations, and bodies, the pale-haired sensitive caught sight of the advertisement- "Lost Souls? Valentine's Day Eve- 11:00 PM. to Midnight." He glanced at his watch. Five minutes until they went on.
A chord from Steve's electric guitar turned him back to his work. He drew in a breath and hummed his warm-up exercises, running over the lyrics to their new song in his head. The lyrics and tune had formed in his mind one night, he didn't know where from, and Steve had fallen in love with it right away. It was important to keep Steve distracted, ever since the time in New Orleans two years ago. He closed his eyes and waited for the sound of Kinsey's old grandfather clock, the timekeeper of the Yew, to sound eleven.
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In a nondescript bar in Minnesota, the digital watch on Nothing's arm read 9:57. He, Molochai, and Twig were on in three minutes. He fingered the whip hooked to his side and drew it out, stretching the black leather into better flexibility. Molochai twanged at his violin, checking the tune, and Twig drew a shriek from his bone-saw. The strobe lights of the club, installed with black light bulbs so as not to completely kill the darkness, picked up the silhouettes of grinding bodies, male and female. He lapped at his lips, where the night's dinner still trickled at the corners. He wanted to wade in among those bodies, snatch at one of them, any one of them, and keep it as a pet[1] for the night before taking his breakfast. His black-dyed hair swished across his cheeks as he bowed his head to hide his smile.
The club owner walked to the edge of the stage and yelled for silence. She waved her heavy steel chain in the air like the perfect image of a bondage queen. The music stopped, causing the dancers to halt and turn to the stage. The owner hopped down, straightened out two dangling hearts- not Valentine's Day hearts, replicas of actual human hearts- and slipped into the back room.
Nothing, Molochai, and Twig slipped from the alcoves where they had hidden to stand before the crowd. The new song Nothing had composed just a week before echoed inside their heads, written for Valentine's Day specifically. Twig and Molochai shifted their instruments into position and waited for a signal from Nothing.
© © ©
Ghost glided onto the stage when the clock chimed eleven. Steve struck the opening chords for the song. Ghost let himself sink it a haze and began to sing.
Nothing nodded as his watch rang ten. Molochai slid the violin bow gently across the strings. Rolling his head back on his neck, Nothing's voice rang out.
Tracing your broken wound with my lips
I'm impaled by a shard of a shattered dream.
The knife of romance that is concealed deep within
Is pressed against my half-formed skin
The smoke and fog swirled eeriely. Ghost gripped the microphone tightly, feeling the beginings of a vision coming on.
Nothing slowly bowed his head. His breathing was fevered, his entire body was pulsing to the background music.
The night is without consolation.
I want you to tear it to shreds with your kiss.
The blond man shook his head, then gasped as another figure appeared before him, a figure he knew very well...
Tossing his black-dyed hair, the young vampire let his voice the man from across the world who was staring him in the eye...
You are the last romanticist left
Slice it up
To the very bottom of my heart, darling
I want my heart to be broken each time I fall in love
To discover the afterimage of angels.
Nothing and Ghost watched each other, their voices blending together perfectly. The audiences vanished completely; Nothing didn't even bother to reach for his whip. Both were vaguely aware of the guitar, the violin, the other instruments that swirled behind them, but neither cared. The vampire held out his arms, trying to call the sensitive into his embrace. Ghost inhaled sharply, then mirrored the action.
These vain words overflow and die.
Time freezes for a while then continues.
Dear heart, by lying you are teaching me defeat.
The password opens up the pleasure garden.
Between the two young men, a shadow swirled. Ghost was sure it was a mirage of the smoke and drug-laden air, Nothing believed the same thing. The shadow grew to a form the two recognized, would recognize even if they were blind, then it vanished. Nothing jerked out of his stupor and thrashed his whip wildly into the audience, elicting a few screams. He smiled maliciously across the void at Ghost, his favorite line coming up.
Even the lonely, peaceful cradle
Can sense being counted among the masses
The two were drawing closer together. Suddenly Nothing didn't want to be near the sensitive, who could read all his thoughts and sense his soul - or what was left of it - as if it were his own. He writhed at the microphone, trying to tear away.
You are a romanticist lost in the streets
Burn it all down
With you ice cold, frigid heart, darling
I want to feel with each kiss what you can give me.
Feel the tears of angels fall like rain.
Ghost could feel the vampire's urgency, even from so far away. He tried to help, tried to sever the contact. He realized suddenly that he wasn't singing anymore, but his voice continued to echo through the Yew.
You are the last romanticist left
Slice it up
To the very bottom of my heart, darling
I want my heart to be broken each time I fall in love
To discover the afterimage of angels
"Ghost! Jessy! Christian! ZILLAH!" Nothing's voice broke into a scream at the last name, but his words were drowned out by the sound of his own voice and the lyrics.
You are a romanticist lost in the streets
Burn it all down
With you ice cold, frigid heart, darling
I want to feel with each kiss what you can give me.
Feel the tears of angels fall like rain.
Ghost ripped himself from the microphone as Steve played the ending chords. His heart slammed in his chest, deafening him. The cheering crowds of the Sacred Yew were back, screaming for an encore. He could feel the worried glare from his best friend pierce the back of his head, but he ignored it and broke into the acapella opening of the next song.
Halfway across the country, Nothing collapsed on the stage. Twig helped pull him to his feet, then turned back to his instrument and slammed into the opening of the next song.
© © ©
[Author's Note: All plot ends here. If you're having misgivings about seeing a bunch of guys fuck, leave now. That's all that's left. It is Valentine's Day, after all, and what else would slash writers such as moi be doing on this God-forsaken day but writing scenes in which a bunch of guys fuck? ::waves to people leaving:: Don't trip on the Nothing on your way out! He has sharp teeth!]
"Ghost?! What happened out there?" Steve gripped his best friend's shoulders. "If you beat around the bush with this, I'll fucking kill you!"
The blonde shook his head and closed the trunk of Steve's new '77 Chevy. The T-bird had finally collapsed beyond repair sometime last summer, so they'd pooled their money - or broke into Ghost's inheritence - and bought the beautiful, used, dark green car. The sensitive started to head for the passenger-side door, but the guitarist grabbed both his wrists and slammed against the back windshield.
"Dammit, Ghost, if something's bothering you, I want to know about it right now, you hear me?" Steve growled, then jerked the younger into his arms and hugged him. The pale-haired man leaned against him, head turned up and eyes watching the stars.
"It was Nothing." His soft voice was barely a whisper.
"Like hell it was nothing, it was definitely something, and I want you to- "
"I mean Nothing Nothing. Vampire Nothing. Zillah's son Nothing."
Steve froze, tightening his grip on his friend. "Oh," he managed, suppressing the images of glowing green eyes staring at him from an impossibly beautiful face.
Ghost closed his eyes. "Sorry."
"Not your fault, Ghost. I should be sorry." Steve hugged him again. "Now, let's get home, hmm?" He pulled away and headed around to the driver's-side door. Ghost slipped quietly into the shotgun seat and leaned back, watching the dark town through the window.
The two young men drove in silence for a while, only the soft hum of the engine assuring them both that they hadn't gone deaf. The dashboard glowed 1:23 A.M. It was Valentine's Day by now. Steve sighed.
"I hate Valentine's Day," he muttered. Ghost nodded. The elder sighed again and sped up, anxious to get home.
Ghost lifted his eyes as they drove past a low hill, covered in soft grass and surrounded by brush and trees. "Stop here for a bit," he requested.
"Oh, shit, don't tell me you're gonna just go out and talk to spooks now," Steve snarled, stopping the car obediently. Ghost slipped out and trotted quickly to the crest of the hill, turning around and gesturing for Steve as soon as he was at the top. The disgruntled guitarist trudged up, hoping to be over with this.
"Beautiful," Ghost whispered, crossing his arms over his chest. He was staring up at the black-speckled-white sky, filled with stars.
Steve couldn't help but grin. "Yeah, it is," he answered, suddenly gentle. He glanced at the two feet of ground that lay between him and the sensitive, and made his decision. He crossed the grass and wrapped his arms around Ghost's chest, pressing the smaller's back into his chest. The pale-haired man leaned against him and gripped one of the guitarist's strong hands with his own.
In the next moment, it was hard to tell whether Steve spun Ghost around or Ghost turned of his own accord. The two themselves didn't know, or particularly care, as their lips brushed against each other's. Ghost's tremored slightly, but were hushed at the gentle caress of Steve's tongue. The sensitive went limp, pulling the other body to him, trying to get as much body contact as possible.
The two broke away after another second of closeness. Ghost watched Steve's eyes as intently as he'd watched the stars, waiting to see what his best friend would do. The elder leaned down for another kiss, but the younger pulled back, smiled easily, and went careening back to the Chevy. Steve stood frozen, confused, until Ghost was halfway down, then darted after him. The sensitive allowed himself to be caught against the backseat door, giving himself over to the warmth of Steve's mouth. Somehow the door opened and the two tumbled onto the soft cloth seats, Ghost pressed into the material recieving the full assault Steve presented.
After a few minutes, they broke away, lips reddened and wet. Steve brushed a strand of hair off Ghost's cheek. Their eyes flared into the other's, and Steve descended again, sealing Ghost's mouth. The sensitive vaguely noticed the lust and love deluging down ontop of him, as well as feel the hardness that was growing between his legs as well as Steve's.
Steve worked the button's on Ghost's shirt, breaking away gently. "Ghost," he whispered. The sensitive just watched him with depthless blue eyes. "I know you're a virgin, man, and you're my best friend and I definitely don't want to do anything that would hurt you..."
Ghost brought himself out of the trance caused by Steve's face and voice. He arched an arm around his friend's neck. "You won't hurt me," he murmured, craning up to nuzzle the other's cheek.
Steve smiled, then slid backwards out of the car. He offered his hand to Ghost. "Let's go home and take care of this, shall we?" he asked the smaller man as he slipped into his arms.
Brilliant blue eyes glistened up at him. "Okay."
© © ©
Nothing's splitting hangover woke him up.
He sat up slowly, shaking the clinging limbs of Molochai and Twig off him. The two larger vampires converged together, like water filling into a tiny hole in the sand. Nothing turned away and staggered to the door of the van, hit with a sudden craving for fresh air.
The icy winter air sobered him up quickly. Shutting the door to keep from disturbing his two charges, he drifted silently down to the frozen creek they had parked by. Nothing slumped down onto a dead log, the rotting process nearly halted for the winter. There were a million stars peering out between the branches.
Closing his eyes, the vampire tried to imagine what his younger brother or sister would have been like had they lived. He could see hair the color of blood, like Ann's, and eyes brilliant green, like Zillah's. Slim build, probably, again like Zillah. The image made him smile, and the figure behind his eyes grinned back at him.
He opened his eyes again and thought of Zillah. He pictured his father leaning over him, fangs flickering maliciously as his mouth leaned down to give him a kiss. Nothing felt the silky, rough tongue slide through his lips and stroke his own. He moaned at the contact, his eyes wide, watching the green flame burn into his soul. Reaching to wrap his arms around Zillah's neck, Nothing gasped as his father vanished.
Idiot, he thought to himself. Of course he's not here now. He's dead, father-fucker. He sighed and closed his eyes, sagging onto his back into the snow of his rotten log. He could imagine, all to well, what Zillah would do if he were here. Nothing tilted his head back to expose his throat, raising himself up onto his elbows and slipping out of the purple-silk coat he had taken from his lover, then slowly drew his shirt off over his head.
He could half-see Zillah hovering over him, leaning down over his naked chest. Nothing unzipped his jeans, which he hadn't buttoned after fucking Molochai and Twig. Dream-Zillah hooked his slender, black-nailed fingers into Nothing's belt-loops and pulled them down over his hips. Nothing shivered, freezing at the coldness against his bare skin. Zillah licked his lips and bent down, lapping at his son's parted mouth. The elder vampire pulled the younger into his chest, proving that he was the only warmth Nothing could reach. Nothing acknowledged the fact and spread his legs in a parody of a snow-angel. Zillah grabbed him by the wrists, flipping him over onto his stomach while nibbling at his son's ear.
Nothing wasn't sure when Zillah had stripped, but he suddenly felt the warmth of his father's familiar chest pressing into his back. He buried his face in the snow, knowing what would come next, waiting for it, expecting it. Zillah licked at the nape of the half-vampire's neck, breathing heavily on the warm skin. Nothing clenched his teeth, a low keening forming in his throat. With another exhalation, Zillah plunged the organ that had given Nothing life between his warm cheek, simultaneously ramming his fangs into his son's neck.
Nothings screamed at the double assault from behind. He thrashed backwards against his lover, trying to free his arms while thrilling at the imprisonment, shrieking at the slamming pain in his backside and his neck, wanting it to end while at the same time needing it to go on forever. He came on the snow as Zillah did, and in the corner of his eye he saw his blood flow off his skin and stain it red. The color swirled and faded into black in Nothing's eyes.
"Oh Nothing, my baby..." Zillah murmured in his ear. "Nothing my delectable, delicious, beautiful..."
"Nothing."
"Nothing." A giggle. Since when did Zillah giggle?
"Hey, Nothing!"
The young vampire opened his eyes and eased himself out of the snow. Twig and Molochai leered down at him, one carrying his coat and shoes, the other dangling the rest of his clothing. Nothing glanced down at the snow below him. Bloodless, but covered in cum. He must have fallen asleep and jacked off, imagining Zillah. With a sigh, he stood up, brushing himself off. The two elder vampires pulled closer to him, binding him in the clothes. He eased against them and slowly, the three turned and slumped over to the van.
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In Missing Mile, Steve and Ghost chased each other up the stairs into the nearest bedroom they could find.
Steve was already in the process of stripping Ghost of his shirt and jeans, pausing every two seconds to cover the seer's mouth with his own. Ghost sank back and allowed his friend, soon-to-be lover, do what he wanted. Seeing as Ghost was inexperienced in this part of life, he was nervous, but he knew without mindreading that Steve wouldn't hurt him.
Intentionally, he reminded himself, thinking of how rough Steve could be when he thought he was being gentle. And they say it hurts more when it's your virginity.
The guitarist threw his own pants aside and drew the singer into his arms, exploring the warm, supple flesh with his hands. Ghost whimpered in the back of his throat, his heart beating faster with each second. Steve slipped his knee between the blonde's legs and pushed him backwards onto the bed.
Ghost's nails drove into Steve's shoulders as the elder bent his head, kissing the younger's chest and wrapping his hand around his erection. He hadn't seen many guys naked, but Ghost was a bit...smaller, than what he could compare it to. Not that it mattered; Steve would take him any way he was.
Ghost's whimpers grew louder at the contact. His blue eyes watered and he stretched his legs wider, not fully registering the meaning of his actions. The intense, pure, utter pleasure flowing out of Steve was too much. He didn't think he could take much more...
"Steve." The mentioned young man looked up at his name, meeting the brilliant portals that had been his first sight of Ghost. The seer didn't reply, however, he just gripped his lover more tightly to him and stroked his cheek. Steve smiled and positioned himself more comfortably, tangling the fingers of his left hand in Ghost's soft hair while continuing to grip gently with his right. He flicked a finger on this hand out, searching for the tight ring of muscle that he knew was positioned somewhere in this area. He slipped the digit in easily.
Arching his back at the intrusion, Ghost knew he couldn't draw Steve any closer. He felt another finger make its entrance, then another. Ghost thought he was going to burst. The pain and pleasure hit so intensely simultaneously that he couldn't stand it. He climaxed, for the first time in his life, coming hard into Steve's hand.
Steve's hand untangled from his hair and rested down his lower back. The guitarist kissed the singer's lips tenderly, then his forehead, then his eyes. Ghost curled up against him, wanting more, still feeling Steve's intense need that made him rise again.
The elder withdrew his fingers from Ghost's now-stretched opening and repositioned himself, his erection poised at the spot between the seer's legs. His other hand released Ghost's own organ and wiped itself off on the sheet. Ghost drew in a breath at Steve's slow, easy entrance into him.
This is... Steve thought to himself, groaning at the heat around him. He's so warm, so soft...I've never felt anything like this...
Ghost let himself be carried backwards with his lover's first thrust. Steve pulled away, almost completely left him, then slid into him again. Ghost could feel his pulse pounding in time with Steve, and he started whimpering again. It was too much for the former-virgin. He clung tighter to Steve as he climaxed again, feeling another liquid fill his insides as well.
Steve cradled Ghost against his body, soaking in the heat. The seer didn't feel the limp organ leave him; he was already fast asleep. Smiling softly at the tiny blonde against him, the guitarist joined him, feeling cleansed.
~The End~
Kachikara: Damn. That. Sucked. I'm sorry, I do my best work between 1 and 5 a.m., and I did the sex half of this in late afternoon looking over my shoulder for my parents and snitch of a brother every two seconds...please excuse me. Now for the Valentine's Day greetings!
First, to Yen, who hasn't read the book, but hopefully read this and loved it. You're the best, Little One!
Rinny! Enjoy it? I hope you did! I wasn't sure how to add the ZillahxNothing, but I refrained from making it total StevexGhost for...
Cari, who hates Steve and Ghost but loves this book. I got her addicted, I hope ^^
Ren-chan, who draws really pretty Ghost pics. I hope you bring one in for me soon!
Rika read the book in record time, so I think she deserves something special. And even though she hates this holiday, and wasn't in school, we all love her and will be sure to report all other good books to her!
Ammi hates this stuff, but I'm including her because she's my friend. You're awesome!
Mika, even though Ken (Mika's dog) ATE my copy Lost Souls, I don't mind. And my mom or brother didn't see this one, this time.
Justin, who most likely didn't read this, because he doesn't know my pen name and hasn't decided which way he swings (whatever he is, he's NOT, for the LAST TIME, going with me!!!) ...call me Hon and I won't lend you Lost Souls. If you really want to read it...
Lastly, to everyone who read this...thank you in advance for your reviews, and may we please have a bit of applause for the (finally) return of my muse, Nataku? She's been missing and presumed horribly dead for the past few months, but she's recovering now! I'll be getting back on track soon. So © © ©Happy Valentine's Day© © © to all, and slash/yaoi/gaygayboys to you!