Warning: Yaoi (Bran/Will) (Rider/Will)
Author's Note: Right…here's the very late update?
"This wine bloody sucks."
There was a long silence as the butler struggled to contain his temper at the arrogant tone of the young man lazily reclined in an sixteenth century antique armchair, currently holding a crystal glass filled with a rare 1825 Merlot disdainfully in his left hand.
"Master White, sir." The butler began, voice shaded with irritation. "I assure you, this is one of the best wines available on the market…"
The man's voice trailed off in horror as the white-haired youth raised a haughty eyebrow and casually tipped the contents of the glass into the rich silk carpet. The wine stain spread and stained the elegant carpet with the pale color of diluted blood.
"Annoying old man." Narrow gold eyes glared at the butler with the bored, venomous gaze of a wolf in the heavy silence that followed. "I don't like you. You're fired now."
"What? No…" The butler's face paled even further. "You can't!" He gasped for breath. "Forty years-I've worked here loyally, to be-dismissed by a-"
A rustle of cloth and suddenly, the old butler froze as watery eyes focused on the threatening form in front of him. Silver eyes stared coldly at him, hard and as unfeeling as cold steel. Lean white hands were hanging loosely at black-clad sides, fingers brushing the tips of twin dagger handles hanging from a black belt.
An amused laugh filled the air. "I suggest that you don't finish that sentence. Michael here is very…protective of me." There was a soft noise as Daniel lifted his hand. "Come here, Michael. That man is not worthy of your attention."
The black-clothed man obediently turned away from the butler, and gracefully knelt by the young heir's side in a single fluid motion. The elderly man stood, still trembling in terror from his encounter with Michael, and now watched, entranced as the same man now docilely accepted Daniel's hand running through the silky chestnut strands of the bodyguard's hair. The wandering fingers paused when they encountered the obstacle of a hair tie, but it was soon removed and the long brown hair slipped loose from the ponytail to hang unhindered in a shining waterfall of rich earth-toned hair.
"Mm." The butler was startled out of his trance by the throaty purr as the young heir leaned down to admire his work. "My angel. My beautiful fallen angel." A hand reached down to tip up Michael's chin, revealing his impassive face. A small pink tongue darted out as Daniel tasted Michael's ear tip, causing a slight shudder to course through the black-clad man's body. "You belong only to me."
With a strangled noise, the butler hastily made his retreat, silently vowing never to go within a mile of the two strange visitors ever again.
"Is he gone now?"
The question broke the awkward silence between the two men as they peered through the windows.
"I think so." Will finally said, stepping back to collapse into a chair. "And I think he was the last one, too."
Bran gave a great sigh of relief, and looked at Will out of the corner of his eye. "Rather stubborn, wasn't he? I wasn't sure what to do next, to tell you the truth."
"Well you could have started stripping me." The brown-haired man teased, causing Bran's face to flush. "Although I have a feeling that you would have died of embarrassment in the process." Will fished around in his pocket for another hair tie and started gathering the long chestnut strands of his hair into a ponytail again. As he finished, he caught Bran staring at him with a strange expression on his face.
"What is it?" Will asked, frowning. "Did I tangle my hair?"
"Tangle your hair?" Bran echoed, with an incredulous look on his face. "Will, you sound like a girl."
A haughty sniff was his only reply as the Old One carefully checked his hair in the large mirror hanging on the wall behind him.
"We should go to a club tonight." Bran said abruptly. "The shadier the district, the better."
Will suddenly gave a strangled cough.
"Eh? What did you say?"
"Bees on Flowers." Will repeated more clearly this time, all the while determinedly avoiding Bran's gaze. "It's a very…notorious place for clubbing."
"If it makes even you blush..." Bran muttered. "Alright, we can go there tonight to look for some members of this so-called Hornet drug-ring." A plaintive growl rumbled from the white-haired man's stomach. "But first, we ought to have some dinner."
There was silence as both looked at each other.
Bran groaned. "Please don't tell me that between the two of us, neither one of us knows how to cook." Will shrugged and gave a wry, apologetic smile.
"…Could somebody remind me why we bothered to drive every single servant out of this mansion again?"
"Will, that's a bit too – oh I don't know – spiky?"
Bran gingerly held up an finger-less black glove liberally decorated with sharp pieces of metal flying out from every possible angle.
"Hmm?" Will said absently, searching through the recesses of the impressively stocked closets.
"Spi – key." The word was heavily emphasized. "I'm more likely to poke myself to death with this than to poke someone else to death."
"Well how about this?" An white designer dress shirt flew towards Bran, landing on top of his head. The golden-eyed man promptly dropped the gloves and reached up to remove the shirt from his head. Struggling with the cloth, he narrowly missed stepping on the metal-studded glove crumpled on the ground as he examined it.
"This is three sizes too big. Will, are you deliberately trying to make me uncomfortable here?"
"Maybe." Will emerged from the large walk-in closet with a bundle of cloth, jewelry, and makeup in his arms. "Just try it on. A bathroom ought to be down that hall. Oh, and wear the gold pants, too."
"Yes mother." Bran said sarcastically and accepted the cloth from Will. "And what will you be wearing to the club?"
Will grinned. And held up a black skintight turtleneck sweater with a pair of matching black leather pants.
"That's your spare 'bodyguard' outfit." Bran glowered. "Are you serious? Then why do I have to dress up with all of…this?" He waved his hand at the massive pile of cloth that Will had somehow managed to drag out from the closet.
"I'm your bodyguard. Someone has to be serious." Will winked. "Besides, I'm yours, remember?"
"Oh. Right." Bran said in distaste. "Trust you to remember these things."
"What things?" Will said innocently. "The bodyguard part? Or the - "
"Will!"
"Okay, okay. I'll stop. Spoilsport."
"Are you sure this is the place?" The taxi driver was frowning as he pulled up by the sidewalk. The surrounding area was dark and filthy, the streets dotted with suspicious-eyed people in worn coats and colors.
"Positive." Daniel opened the taxi door and slid out, wrinkling his nose at the smell. "Michael, pay the driver."
Deftly producing a thick wad of bills from a hidden pocket, the brown-haired man gave the taxi driver a bill. The driver's eyes widened at the sum.
"Keep the change." The young heir said casually. "I'd appreciate it if I find a taxi waiting when I return."
"Yes, yes. Of course." The driver said quickly. "Thank you very much, sir!"
"Michael?" Daniel said, ignoring the driver. "Come, let's go."
The bodyguard slipped quietly behind the young heir, head bowed.
"Down the left alley." Will's lips barely moved as he carefully whispered into Bran's ear. "Third door on the right."
"This club," Daniel said loudly, covering the whispered conversation with a distraction, "you say it is one of the best?"
Michael gave a small nod.
"Excellent. Ah, here it is." The white-haired heir gingerly tapped the door. There was the sound of multiple locks opening and a squinty-eyed old woman glared up at them through the barest of gaps. "What do ya want?" Her nasal voice rasped suspiciously.
"To enjoy some honey." Daniel drawled, and rolled his eyes. "I've never heard a more terrible code. What brilliant idiot thought up of it?"
"That would be me, you young brat." The old woman huffed in irritation, but opened the door and quickly ushered them in. Inside the room, the old lady opened a pantry and led them down a hidden basement.
Daniel blinked as a roar of music and dizzying splashes of light swept over the room, which was packed with people. "Big basement."
"Of course. You hafta fool the cops. Well, enjoy dearies." With that, the old woman cackled and left them standing in the bewildering mix of music, lights, bodies, and drugs.