Here we go. I hope you guys like this one; I put some more effort into it. Sorry if the ending is a bit abrupt. I feel I can write that scene better in the beginning of a new chapter instead of at the end. Suggestions? Comments?
Ack. Danny felt nauseous, having just been transported by Dan outside of the bedchamber to a fairly large kitchen. White tiles, and black appliances gave the boy the feeling of the bathroom. It was lacking color although the kitchen possessed more hues due to random foods being sprawled about messily on the counters. Miscellaneous chip brands, prepackaged cookies- the kind with the main ingredient of sugar instead of flower, a few sugary cereals, cans of presumably empty soda- none of which was diet.
Dark had released his hold on the boy- not noticing his sway, or perhaps not caring. Swinging the fridge door open, he left it there moving to open all of the black cabinets to reveal the stock of even more junk food. Lays, Pringles, Kellogg's, Pepperidge Farms, and Coke. With a start, Danny realized they were all his favorite brands.
Opening the last cabinet, Dan turned to him. "What do you want? We've got Kraft, frozen pizza, microwavable burgers, cookie dough, nachos, hotdogs…" He went on rambling all of the possible meal options while the boy contemplated.
In all reality, Danny had stopped listening at 'We've'; it shocked him on how fast the ghost had begun referring to his house as theirs. The future looked bleak. I guess this means he really doesn't plan on letting me go. He realized with a start, how depressing his future now appeared to be.
His over enthusiastic dream of being an astronaut, his future with Sam- how far they hadn't gotten, his friends and family, his solid future of being Phantom. Well, at least I still have that future set in stone; it's not like Dark's letting me be anything but Phantom at this point. He thought bitterly, wondering when he was going to get it over with and just kill him instead of catering to him.
"You can cook?" Danny asked, pulling himself up onto a black barstool. Letting his head rest on his folded arms, he glared at Dan, waiting for an answer. He didn't need that much of his brain to know what the answer would be.
"Do you?" He grinned, grabbing a handful of barbeque chips from the bag, shoving a few into his mouth. The boy across the kitchen island from him only glared not wanting to indulge the man's useless banter. The only response was an extended hand directed towards the chips; Danny always had had a weakness for chips.
"What do you say?" Dan asked, slowly extending the Lay's bag out to his hand, in a mockingly slow pace.
Danny glared. "Fuck you."
"Well, I was planning on waiting just a bit longer and feeding you first, but if you really want to," Dan glanced around, shuffling some of the foods into different areas, "I suppose I can clean off the counters a bit."
Head shooting up off his arms, Danny paled as he almost fell over backwards onto the cold floor. "What?" He croaked, sound barely leaking from his mouth. "That's not what I meant, and you know it!"
"You're no fun." Dark pouted sarcastically. "Where's Fun Danny when you need him? When he comes out, I have dibs."
"I have dibs on Super Danny kicking your ass to the next millennium." Danny mumbled, grabbing some chips Dark had abandoned when moving other foods off the counter. Munching on those quietly, he had nothing else to say to the man.
Dark Phantom laughed a chilling sound that didn't quite sound amused. "Super Danny couldn't claw his way out of a wet paper bag if you forgive the mundane expression."
Danny slipped a smile, albeit a tiny one for he knew Dark spoke the truth. Super and his bed sheet wasn't the brightest or most threatening super hero there was- even if his poses played the part. Hell, even Technus wasn't afraid of him- even taking potshots at the ghost's behavior.
Taking his smile as an entrance, he continued. "So, you haven't answered my question." And there goes the smile. "What do you want?"
That was simple. "To go home." It was a long shot, but a chance Danny couldn't resist; he wasn't going to go along easily. What he didn't know was that Dark prefers the hard way; he always had.
Dark tsk'd at the poor attempt. "I was thinking more along the lines of food." He pointed to all the wide-open cabinets and the fridge which must've been using up a severe amount of electricity as Danny knew from the time he accidently left the fridge open at home and his mother made him pay the electricity bill. He still can't even remember how he earned all that money.
"Not hungry." He mumbled, head back in its position on top of crossed arms.
Dan growled. "It was your stomach that growled, not mine."
"Probably because you're so boring, even my stomach is bored. It doesn't mean I'm hungry." Danny mumbled into his arms, partially blocking his words.
"I'm boring? Let's see what I can do to change that; although, you probably won't like what 'fun' I have in mind." Dark said darkly, the irony of it all was immense. Watching Danny's head shoot up, in fear of something else entirely, the ghost gripped the boy's chin and forcibly kissed him, sliding his own tongue into the boy's unwilling mouth which tasted strongly of powdered barbeque, Dan thought fondly. He assumed his own mouth tasted the same; a mirror image even down to taste, he could fool himself into thinking the boy he was forcing himself onto was truly himself, if he ignored their obvious difference in appearance.
It was a new twist on narcissism, but then again Dan didn't mind. What's another sin on top of his countless lists? He's got the main ones in the bag already: Greed, Wrath, Pride, Gluttony, Lust.
Danny remained still under him. Not stopping him, not participating in the sinful kiss. Just willing it to be over with before his empty stomach decided it wasn't empty enough not to vomit.
It seemed like ages to the boy, but Dark pulled away. Not saying anything, he turned to the fridge grabbing two Mountain Dews from the top shelf. He'd already consumed a tragic amount of Coke the past week; he figured if he'd been human, his teeth would've rotten out of his skull by now.
Eagerly Danny grabbed the can, popping the lid and taking the first few sickly sweet gulps to get the taste of Dark out of his mouth. His fourth sip he swashed around his teeth, letting it stick to anywhere it hadn't already reached. Somewhere his dentist must've been feeling discomforted.
His stomach rumbled as he filled it with soda instead of digestive material needed to make a happy quiet tummy.
"Still bored? There are other activities I can imagine. I'm very imaginative." Dan cocked his head, waiting the boy's frantic response.
"N-no!" Danny shouted, resting a hand on his stomach. "I think I'm actually hungry. Just make something; you know what I like." He hated to admit it, but he hated not being able to admit it to himself; Dark did know him just as well if not better than he knew himself. He had Danny's mind and memories, and naturally Vlad's keen observation skills were there too.
Dark scooted over to the farther cabinet and grabbed three- to be safe- boxes of Kraft. It was the original extra cheesy type. They both agreed the shapes were better, but they never made as much as the normal macaroni did.
Danny raised a timid eyebrow at his choice which Dark easily caught- those observation skills in motion. "What? I had a craving." He defended his choice and put a silver pot on the stove, pouring water into it.
Funny, so did I. Danny thought, watching Dark stare at the water as if willing it to boil faster. A watched pot never boils, Dark. Didn't your mother ever tell you that? Oh, that's right; she had.
Watching Dark watch the water could only be entertaining for so long, eventually Danny had given up. Deciding instead to think of his family, his family he'd probably never see again. He wondered if they missed him, or if they even bothered to look. I wonder how much Jazz will tell them. I don't want them to come looking. It'll only put them at risk too. Then again, it wouldn't be too much of a hassle for Dark to leave and go to them.
The sound of shaking stopped his daydreaming; it sounded like those maracas that art teachers had kids make in second grade- the paper mâché ones filled with macaroni. It was clear to see why when he spotted Dark holding up a box of Kraft, searching it for instructions. Oh please, has he truly forgotten?
Hopping down off the stool, he moved over to the stove, knocking Dark away with his hip. Had he not surprised the older man, such a move would not have fazed him at all. "Oh please," Danny said, echoing his own thoughts a moment ago. "Too easy." He tore open the cardboard flap and dumped the contents in to the boiling water, repeating the gesture with the other boxes.
He grabbed a conveniently placed spoon from the counter next to him and gave it a stir. In doing so, the vapors from the boiling water gave off a pleasant soothing smell, and the boy deluded himself into thinking he was in his own kitchen cooking lunch for him, Sam, and Tucker.
Those dreams were unpleasantly interrupted when he felt a large body press up behind him, sending chills raking down his spine. Equally large hands were placed on his hips, a place Dark definitely liked to explore.
His tongue slid over the soft flesh of the boy's neck, making him squeak in protest. Well, it wasn't a very strong campaign. Danny's hand jerked from the action, in turn partly stirring the pasta.
"I couldn't help myself." Dark cooed into his ear. "You just looked so tempting. I can resist all but temptation, you know." He seemed to purr the word, but it was all but tempting or seductive.
Flushing at the intimate contact, he stirred the pasta, preventing it from sticking to the bottom of the silver pan. Oh god, oh god. He's so close. Danny agitatedly stabbed a noodle with the spoon. It split.
"Uh Dark," Danny began frowning, "It's done." He mumbled, switching off the stove and raising the pan away from the flat burner glowing red with heat.
Stepping back, the phantom allowed room for the boy to reach the sink and drain the noodles into a strainer, conveniently left in the sink, probably because it was dirty from the last time Dark had made pasta, and by the buildup of dishes, Danny had no faith in Dark's ability to perform household chores. Then again, Danny had no faith in his own ability to perform household chores either.
Pouring the steaming noodles back into the pan, he returned to the stove. Dan returned to his position behind Danny, wrapping his arms around the younger man's waist.
"Wha- Stop that! I need to get the butter and stuff." Danny growled, pushing the man back as he backed up.
"As long as you know you're rubbing me in all the right ways right now." Dark smirked, reaching behind himself to get the stick of butter lying on the table from when he pulled it out earlier. He unwrapped the stick of unsalted cream and dropped it into the pan, earning a disapproving glare from the Danny. "What? It needs butter."
"It didn't need a whole stick! The new Kraft only needs a tablespoon or two per box."
"Yeah? The new Kraft sucks. I want my butter, damn it."
Danny sighed and stirred the butter around, watching the heat melt it into little golden pools. "Don't blame me when you get fat. I warned you."
Dark snorted a laugh. "Me fat? Impossible." Grabbing the packets of powdered cheese, he ripped them open at the same time and dumped them into pan as Danny stirred it in. Reaching over, the milk was next to the stove, laying in wait for the man to uncap it and poor it straight into the food, not bothering with a measuring cup.
"There." Danny said, giving it one last stir, tempted to take a bite off the spoon as he did at home, but this wasn't his home and he wasn't about to start treating it as such. "Bowls." Danny said, holding out his hand.
"Bowls?" Dark asked. "Oh, bowls. Crap, I'm not used to needing to use them. Can't we just share the pan?" He considered, grabbing two slightly bent forks from a drawer.
"Yeah, no." The boy narrowed his eyes, opening the dish cabinets until he found some bowls shoved behind more junk food. I think Dark might actually be worse than be with the junk food; even his dish cabinets have been invaded.
Returning to Dark's side, he snatched the pan away from the man and poured some of the extra cheesy-delicious looking- pasta into his bowl. Placing the pan back on the stove for Dark to get his own or just take it himself, Danny began to sit at the bar counter again- only to be stopped by his older self.
"No, let's eat somewhere else. The bedroom or the living room. Choose."
Perfect opportunity to survey the area, Danny thought as Dan smirked to himself. "The living room, I never eat in the bedroom." Then again didn't Dark already know that?
Dan grabbed his wrist and his bowl in the other hand. Danny didn't even see him pour his own bowl; it must've been while he was thinking. He led him out the kitchen arch and down a long hallway with high ceilings.
There were no windows although he couldn't be sure if it was because of Dark's preference, Danny's inconvenience, or just because they were in the ghost zone. Danny couldn't remember ever seeing a building in the ghost zone that had working windows. Not Ghostwriter's house, not the prison, not Clockwork's citadel. Clockwork! He can help me! He realized with a start, although not quite sure if it was in the ghost's mind to help him.
Dark gave the boy a nudge, and Danny realized he had stopped moving in his thoughts. The nudge pushed him straight through a stone archway into a large white living room. The couches were white; the floor was a plushy white carpet. It was an almost nice contrast to the rest of the Phantom's black house.
Looking back out into the hallway, Danny realized they walked an awfully long way in such a short amount of time, and the living room was a dead end. To get anywhere, he'd have to go back towards the kitchen.
Grumbling, Danny was steered towards the couch in front of a giant plasma screen television. Before he had a chance to take a reluctant seat in a small corner of the circular bending couch, Dan was sprawled out on top of it, pulling the younger man onto his lap.
He indignantly squealed as he tried not to drop his food on the pale perfect carpet.
Dark snickered at the noise, making Danny flush with anger and embarrassment. He paled as he realized he was sitting directly on top of Dark's crotch. He distinctly noticed a bump, and suddenly his food didn't look as appetizing, but he forced a few bites which were leaking cheese from the excess milk down as to not provoke Dan's taunts.
Danny's bowl was resting in his lap while Dark had taken his bowl and with nowhere else to place it, let it rest on the boy's white hair, one hand steadying it while the other was free to shovel food via the fork.
"Do you mind?" Danny growled through a bite of macaroni.
"No, I don't." Dark said after swallowing his previous bite, and taking another as the halfa tensed began, "Would you rather I placed it somewhere else and left my hand free to wander?"
Danny said nothing to this, allowing the phantom to continue eating. Dark, too, said nothing, instead, flipping on the television using the remote resting on the glass coffee table.
They ate in silence, content with watching some children's show about a boy who received fairy god parents; he thought the idea was dumb, but then again he figured if his life was a children's show it'd be dumb too; it probably wouldn't even have any fans.
How popular could a show about a fourteen-year-old loser who got ghost powers through a freak explosion be anyway? Danny chuckled inwardly, swallowing more food as Dark chuckled at the funny moments. It surprised Danny that the ghost still found things like this amusing. Sure, he wasn't laughing hysterically or anything, but the occasional snickers at deeper humor must've meant something, right?
Scraping the last of the cheese out of the bowl, Danny was done, and Dark was finishing up close behind him.
"Well that hit the spot, wouldn't you say?" Danny hm'd in response. "But not the right spot. I know much better spots I could be hitting."
Danny's eyes were wide open. He wasn't quite sure what Dan meant by that, but he was certain it was supposed to be sexual. Dan's hands wandered until they were firmly pressed against Danny's own crotch.
He pushed the palm of his down and rubbed, sending spikes of something up Danny's spine. Fear? Apprehension? Disgust? Pleasure?
Oh god, he's going to. Danny panicked as he felt Dark's hand slip into the loose fabric of his pants. His large hand caressed his lower stomach before slipping over the tufts of hair. "No!" Danny screamed out, trying to raise himself away from the man, but with his hand already in his pants, escaping him was near impossible.
"Oh calm down," Dark purred. "It'll feel nice; what are you so afraid of?"
It feeling nice.
That was the most terrifying thing that could happen. Pain was one thing. Dark could make this all incredibly excruciating for the halfa. Losing his pride was another. It'd be harder to deal with in the long run, but losing it was bound to happen being held up in this prison, but liking it was a different story. Danny could never forgive himself if he let himself feel the pleasure in this.
His hand lingered, twitching down. "Bargain with me. Give me something else in return."
What can I? Anything would be better than letting the ghost near his private regions; he could feel pleasure there, but kissing wouldn't give him pleasure. In fact, it's possible it'd only serve to make him vomit.
"I-I… kiss." Danny mumbled resentfully, earning a smirk from Dark.
"What? I couldn't hear you?" The phantom mocked.
"I'll let you kiss me!" Danny shouted, frustrated with himself and the ghost.
"Let you? I hope you mean you'll actually participate this time, and by participate, I mean participate. If you do a good enough job, I won't touch you there- at least not tonight." Dan bargained, savoring the look of disgust filled defeat on Danny's face.
The boy only briefly nodded.
"Good, I accept your offer. Let's begin, shall we?"