Inspired by Katy Perry's "E.T." and a oneshot written by ImHumanoid on DeviantART called E.T. - Futuristic Lover.
Bear with me a little on this. First time touching base with sci-fi/alien stuff, so it's gonna be a little interesting at first. ^^
0.1 [You're so hypnotizing]
It's the softest glow of a delicate blue light that catches his attention, pulling his gaze from the party around him and towards the window. A frown pulls his lips down and draws his eyebrows a little closer together as he slips through the dancing bodies towards the glass. He presses his palm to it, his breath fogging up a little on the surface as he stares out at it.
Dazzling in the tree tops, the blue seems to flash a little brighter, sparkling with what reminds him of glitter before fading away. Blinking once, he lets out another breath on the window, his hand firmly glued to the cool sheet. He doesn't take into consideration that tonight is Halloween and it's probably just some fireworks or whatever set up by the seniors. It's because he knows the glow of fireworks. And it's also because they're prohibited on campus unless it's fourth of July or New Year's.
Licking his lips, Adam continues to stare out at the spot where the light had been before dropping his hand from the glass. Music pulses in his ears and he sets his red plastic cup filled with soda on the sill of the window. Turning away, he makes his way through the throng of classmates and other members of the student body. He mutters the soft "excuse me" now and then before reaching the opened doors, stepping out into the hallway.
It's not like he's high off of anything, either. He snagged a cup from the buffet table and poured his own Cola into it that he had brought in. He doesn't take chances like that; not for any paranoia reasons, but because he doesn't trust the students of his school. When you're living in Los Angeles and attending one of the top colleges in the state, you really can't afford to trust anyone.
Turning to the left, he starts at a decent pace towards the end of the hall, passing other cracked-open doors. He takes curious peeks through each, seeing the same party scenes that he just left and sighs softly, turning his attention to the a door marked "stairs". Pulling it open, he slips inside and makes his way down the three flights, his rubber-soled boots soft, nearly silent on the concrete steps. The tight leather of his pants shift and makes his skin feel sticky and warm, but he doesn't bother with cutting into the first floor to his dorm to change. Instead, he follows the stairs down to the main floor.
The main floor of the dormitory is decorated with orange and black streamers, matching balloons set in the corners. Tables are covered with black cloths and the cups are bright orange. It's all cheap and nineties, really, but he doesn't mind it. He prefers the simplicity of the decorations because it allows for the students to shine with their costumes. Not that he's paying any mind to those, anyway. He's practically booking it out of the lobby in his skin-tight leather pants and Bowie-makeup.
Outside it's cold for Los Angeles in late-October. When Adam lets out a breath, it plumes a little in front of his face. He glances to the north, trying to remember if that's where the glow of the lights had been. In truth, he hasn't got a clue as to why he's hunting down this spectacle, but there was something within him that told him to go. Usually, his gut isn't wrong. When it is, it's nothing serious. And he feels like he should be wary, but he's not.
Biting his lip, he starts walking towards the trees, more north-east than simply north. He's always been pretty good with directions, and it doesn't take long for him to cut across the vast and open front lawn of the dormitory, crossing the paved bike path and towards the soccer fields. In his head he can still picture the blue glow of light spread over the leaves. In reality, it's not there anymore, but he can still see it. Shining bright and inviting. It was a wonder that no one else seemed to notice it, really.
He folds his arms over his stomach to keep himself warm, silently wishing he'd at least grabbed a coat first, but it's too late now. His boots slosh through the damp grass of the soccer field and he curses himself for wearing them on a wet night. Then again, though, he hadn't exactly expected to be sloshing through wet fields and forests on Halloween. It had been his intention to stay inside.
'Shut up, fool,' Adam tells himself, shaking his head a little as he crosses towards the edge of the field where the track circles around it. His boots stomp on the rubbery surface below before passing the bleachers and heading towards the trees. The moon glows in a perfect orb above his head, shining down through the puffs of clouds, grey against the black of the sky. Taking a breath, he climbs up a small slope of dirt and twigs, passing a few trees as he goes.
The more he walks, however, the more he realizes that with the exception of the glow resting in the center of the treetops, he hasn't got a clue as to where he's supposed to go. If there were any signs of people being out here this late at night, they're gone now. Sighing softly, he stops by a large tree, resting his shoulder against it as he gazes out at the dark swarm of vegetation around him. Bugs hiss and buzz above his head and he sighs again.
He has half a mind to turn around and go back to his dorm, but he doesn't. There's something within him that says 'not yet'. And despite the fact that he really can't see ten feet in front of himself, he stays by the tree, staring as hard as he can. He doesn't leave yet because he can feel it. The softest tug of pressure at his body, pulling onto him; almost as if there's something—or someone—coaxing him forward.
Biting his lip, he gazes across a wide spread of trees before sighing heavily, feeling a little more than discouraged. The tug is still pulling at him but he starts to turn away, cold and wanting nothing more than to crawl into bed and read a book. He isn't sure what he was expecting, but he knew it has to be more than silent darkness, that's for sure. Still, though, he turns away and takes a step back when he glances down, stopping again.
Nestled in the dark brown dirt beneath his boots is a petal— a rose petal. Under normal circumstances, he wouldn't have thought twice about a rose petal sitting upon a mound of dirt. But the more he stares at this petal the more he realizes it's not, really, normal. Sure, the shape and appearance is normal, the color a dark crimson like most roses. But it's the soft blue hue and traces of shine like glitter that makes him stop and gaze.
Adam reaches down, picking it up and lifting it into his palm. It's cool to the touch, glowing in his hand. Whipping around, he takes in a breath and clutches the petal gently, searching the ground for any other petals or roses and sees one about five feet ahead of him. Rushing forward, he picks it up and cradles it close to join the first, seeing another just ahead. He follows them like bread crumbs to the gingerbread house, picking them up as he goes.
Two handfuls of rose petals and a racing heart, he climbs a slight slope before poking his head over the ridge, staring into a ring of trees. His heart skips and stutters to a quiet calm, his eyes wide as he stares at the center. More rose petals and actual rose heads form a glowing bed, a ring of angry black thorns surrounding them. The soft blue light glows brighter when he steps closer and he drops the petals that are clutched in his palms. Lying atop the bed of thorns and roses is a naked man.
Skin pale as ivory and translucent like a thick sheer cloth, delicate and smooth-looking to the touch. The bones beneath are barely visible from the neck down to the toes, exposing every joint, every ridge of the spine and every curved rib that holds in the drumming of a heartbeat. The eyes are painted a dusty grey from the top part of the cheekbone, around the socket and beneath the eyebrow, soft swirls like a child's flower petals outlining the dark. There is a dark tattoo that resembles the sharp curve of a spider's web on his forehead, a pointed tip started between his eyebrows and spanning up wide into his hairline. Small dots and circles rest in the flesh above his eyebrows.
Dark tattoos of stitch-lines cover the lips and stretch a little beyond the mouth, mocking a look of being sewn shut. Adam would believe it if it were not for the fact that those lips are parted softly in breath. Tear-drop shaped tattoos rest in his chin, one pointing up to the mouth in the middle with one on either side, pointing around the sharp angles of the face.
The man's head is tilted to the side, golden hair sprouting thick from the top of his skull and fanning around the right side of his shadowed face. His left ear is pierced twice in the cartilage, one ring and an industrial bar, while the lobe is pierced four times. Each hold contains a silver ring that glimmers in the blue-light. Adam's eye wanders up and down the line of this man's body, taking into memory the size of his soft member and feeling a burning twist of curiosity at how much greater it would be hardened.
Tearing his attention away from the man's dick, Adam bites his lip and stares at the intricate details in his skin. More tattoos of the same web, tear-drop and dot-like patterns trace along his collarbones, shoulders, hips and legs. No doubt more so on his back as well, but Adam isn't about to roll him over to find out. Not yet, anyway. There's a part of him that wants to reach out and touch this marvelous creature, but he holds himself back, staring in awe. Finger and toenails are painted a sharp, shining and beautiful black.
Kneeling down in the dirt, Adam lets out a quiet breath. The roses around the man are glowing so beautiful and bright, and when he reaches out to touch them, they grow brighter still. Awestruck, Adam is caught staring long after the man's eyes have fluttered open to reveal swirling pools of burnt orange and gold. He shifts his attention to those eyes, gazing into them and feeling a kind of tug on his soul that he's never known before.
Adam opens his mouth to speak but finds that he cannot form a coherent word, let alone a simple sentence. Instead, he stares with a gaping mouth as the blond sits up, his hair hanging down to one side, shaved on the other. From one of the four holes, a long black cord dangles from beneath a silver hoop, holding a miniature hourglass, the sands within frozen in a perfectly equal balance. Rose petals fall from his shoulders, landing scattered amongst the bedding.
Breathing in softly, Adam goes still at the soft rustle of something moving within the glowing petals and stares as they shift. A flash of ivory before the thing lifts from the sea of blue and crimson and Adam's eyes widen as he gazes upon this strange man's tail, rather reminiscent of a lizard's tail. The skin is translucent, as it is everywhere but his face, and the delicate bones within are dark and creamy, bending and shifting as it moves. Tattoos swirl around it in sweet and mysterious patterns of webbed black, hypnotic in the blue glow.
'I must be dreaming, this can't be real,' Adam tells him, unable to blink or speak as the man reaches forward. His fingers are long, delicate, and they remind him of an artist or a musician's fingers. Adam keeps himself still as those fingers, cold and smooth, trail against the heated flesh of his cheek. Slowly, though, a warmth from this man's touch turns to fire and Adam gasps as the world closes in dark around him, the impenetrable gaze of orange and cold seared into the black of his mind.