25-Mar-2002
Pet Shop of Horrors: Blood
by bonnejeanne and cassiopeia
Title: Blood
Author: bonnejeanne (bonnejeanne@yahoo.com) and Cassiopeia (cassiopeia@gundamwing.net)
Archive: http://www.no-assumptions.com/gundamwing/
Category: yaoi, AU
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: Series
WARNINGS: Lemon/Limey stuff, AU
Disclaimer: Pet Shop of Horrors characters and universe are the property of the copyright owners. Our stuff is ours. No money being made here.
As with all our fics, while our goal is to stay as in character as possible, any discrepancies are our mistakes.
Feedback: Any and all comments welcome, be they short or long.
NOTES: We started writing this based only on what we had seen in the anime. I hadn't done any research on the web and so was not aware of the information from the manga at all. Therefore this can be considered an Alternate Universe fic. It is kind of interesting that while I did not know anything about kami, some odd similarities showed up - they were entirely unintended. ^__^;;;;
Blood Part Three: Capture
D's eyes crinkled at the corners as he looked up at the blond American looming over him. Being dragged through the Pet Shop and pushed down in such a fashion was... rather fun, if the truth were to come to light. Perhaps only because of the identity of the person doing it, but D did not wish to dwell on that thought. The habit of his relative solitude was too much a part of his instincts. Looking up, he slid an arm around Leon's neck. "You seem to be feeling... better," he murmured.
Leon didn't answer at first, moving his lips roughly over the other man's neck, then stared into mismatched eyes. "You're..." He wanted to say beautiful, but knew it would sound stupid. Everyone was probably always telling the Count that, and he didn't need to hear it again, not from him. "You're... soft," he finally said, and went back to D's neck, closing his eyes to enjoy the feel of being there.
"Oh... that's important?" D asked with a bare hint of amusement in his voice. He tilted his head back, giving as much of his skin exposure to the detective's lips as was possible. The arm around Leon's neck moved and his fingers plucked at the covered rubberband that held his yellow curls back in the rough ponytail, pulling it loose to allow the blond mane to fall around Leon's face. D had always been somewhat fascinated by blonds, as many of his countrymen were. The robust, gold waves were so different from his own dead straight, dead black hair. His fingers continued to card through it appreciatively.
The feel of D's hands in his hair sent a shiver through Leon's body, and he pulled back for a moment, pinning them to the bed above the Count's head. He stared down at the man, this time unable to stop the word from coming out of his mouth, though it did so softly. "Beautiful..." God, he was prettier than any woman Leon had ever seen. Not that he'd ever bothered to care much about it, the whole man/woman thing, though he knew people were supposed to.
The expression in those mismatched eyes lost the amused twinkle, gazing up at Leon. D seemed not the least uncomfortable with the way Leon was holding his wrists above his head. He looked like a concubine waiting to be ravished. "Leon," he murmured softly.
Leon released D's hands, and kissed the man again, heatedly, before moving back. "Take this thing off," he said, indicating D's garment. He liked the thing, even though it was strange, and couldn't imagine the Count without it. He wanted to add 'hurry' to the statement, but thought D probably already knew that he should. The detective began undoing his own clothing without waiting for an answer.
D did not respond instantly to the - request? order? He watched Leon begin unbuttoning his shirt and allowed himself to enjoy the view of the American's well developed chest. With a slight sigh, he reached up with one hand and began undoing the frogs on the neck and side panel of the cheongsam. With another soft sigh, he pushed Leon back from him enough to sit up, and then to rise. Walking over to a small table close to the bed, he bent over it and Leon scented the tang of fresh incense being lit. Smoke drifted from the metal brazier on the low table as D drifted away from it and back towards the bed. Watching Leon, he finished unfastening the cheongsam and it slipped from his body. His arms and shoulders were bared - but that was all. Beneath the robe, a silk camisole covered his chest, and under it a pair of black silk trousers.
Leon watched D undressing and couldn't help comparing it with the time he'd gone to that strip joint with the guys at work on his 21st birthday. He'd certainly gotten an eye-full that night, but this was... different. He rose from the bed, moving to D's side, and put his hands on the silken undergarment, carefully pulling it up and over the Count's head.
This time, the sight of D's wound did not bother him, but that could have been because it was neatly covered with a bandage. The man's smooth, flawless skin caused his body to react, and he felt a stiffening in his pants, which he promptly began to remove. He pulled D to his body, the feel of his bare flesh against his own startling him. It had never been this way before, had never been this exciting. Was it always this way with men? Or just with D...
The Count looked up at Leon, his arms moving around his neck yet again. He seemed to enjoy this embrace, which brought his body into full contact with the other man. Watching Leon's expressions and reading, or guessing more about his thoughts, his mood seemed to shift a little, still pliant, but less amused, with a touch of something that almost resembled melancholy. Leaning closer, he kissed Leon lingeringly.
Letting himself fall into the kiss for a moment, Leon quickly regained himself, and moved them both back to the bed, his hands running over the fine muscles of D's back. He felt he was about to move into unfamiliar territory, where he wouldn't know what he was doing, but his body didn't seem to care much about that fact, and he pressed his lips to D's bare chest, wanting to let as much of that skin as he could pass under his mouth.
D leaned into the touch, his back arching slightly. After a little while, however, he lifted Leon's chin with a slender hand which nevertheless was strong enough to tilt Leon's head up. "It is not my wish to deceive you, Leon," he said slowly. "Yet I suppose I feel that I am...."
The words didn't distract Leon from his thoughts too much, but he did blink and say, in a confused voice, "Huh?"
"Don't you think this is all rather, sudden?" D said gently, sighing. He'd wanted to let things just happen, but his own sense of justice, so implacable to others, was nagging at him now.
Leon thought about it for a moment, then replied, "No." He didn't think it was 'sudden' at all. They'd known each other a while, the man had been kissing him all day... what was sudden about that? The look in D's eyes made him relent a little, though. "Fine, so stop deceiving me, if you are." Then he tried to go back to his previous occupation at D's chest.
The detective's words - or was it his thoughts? - caused D's eyes to crinkle at the corners. 'Fine' Leon said. D's body was the same shade of delicate porcelain that his face had always been, and while Leon had long suspected him of using a heavy makeup to achieve it, there was no detectable border that would betray such. Only a slightly lighter shade of that rich burgundy - perhaps a dark rose - appearing as each exquisite nipple was revealed gracing a chest that was not massively developed, but the pectoral defined enough to be clearly masculine.
Leon moved his hand over the exposed flesh, running his fingers over the rose nipple, then dropped a soft kiss on it before taking it hungrily into his mouth. He really didn't know the best ways to touch a man, but his actions hardly seemed like they could be unpleasant. And he still had no idea how D was 'deceiving' him, and began to chalk it up to another crazy Chinese thing.
A gasp answered his actions, and delicate hands closing with surprising strength on his bare shoulders. D's eyes closed and he had to exert some control over his body to keep his knees from buckling and spilling him to the floor. His grip remained tight as he sought to keep on his feet while experiencing the amazing liquid pleasure of Leon's oral caress.
Leon moved a hand to cover the Count's other nipple, letting his fingers play over the other man's soft yet strong flesh. He switched sides, kissing his way across, and fastened his lips on the unattended nipple for a moment. Then he moved his mouth close to D's ear, and breathed, "Are you... deceiving me now?"
Leon felt the prick of sharp nails for a bare instant. "Yes..." D whispered, not understanding the slight blurring of his vision until his eyelids blinked in reflex and a drop of crystal liquid spilled away, clearing his sight.
"Then stop," Leon said, before claiming the Count's lips in a deep kiss, one which he didn't entirely understand. He felt the moisture on D's face and wanted to brush it away, but let it stay, concentrating on moving his tongue gently over D's.
So simple... returning the kiss, D marveled at how simple life could be if one were Leon. Feeling the mood of the kiss, something inside him trembled. Another kindness... The American seemed to have no limit to endangering himself through kindness. Deciding he could no longer remain standing or he'd be forced by his conscience to push Leon away, D let his knees buckle slightly and trusted the detective to support him.
Leon felt the shift in D's posture, and moved to hold up some of the other man's weight. He pulled back a little to stare into the Count's eyes and frowned, wishing the other would act in a more predictable manner. "You're not going to tell me, are you?" In a rather sudden move, he grasped the back of D's neck and pulled the man's mouth to his own, only letting their lips part when he was out of breath. "Would it help," he gasped out, "if I told you I didn't care?"
Eyelids fluttering as he took a deep breath, D watched Leon's face. Help... he wanted to help... to help D. "It would help if you lie on the bed with me," D said, his own voice breathier than usual. "...and ...hold me..." And I will tell you, he thought silently.
D's words brought Leon temporarily out of the lust that was defining his body, and he knew a phrase or two of reassurance on his part was called for. But he didn't know any, not really, and he did the only thing he could think to do. Bending, he scooped the other man into his arms, finding his weight not what he would have expected - neither light nor heavy, just... solid.
He carried D to the bed and lay next to him there. Then, with an expression of what, he did not know, Leon pulled the Count into his arms and held him against his chest, unable to stop himself from gently kissing the black silk hair that found its way across his arms.
Resting on the bed, looking up at the beautifully constructed man who held him with such unexpected ease, D felt a renewal of the silent vow he'd made on the moment when he woke and found Leon holding his wrist. It wasn't time now for talk - perhaps that was his own reluctance again, but it was nevertheless true. Leon's mind would not clear until they had completed together. Then it would be time to tell the story fully, and receive the result.
Reaching down along his own body, D slipped his thumbs under the waistband of the silk pants and lifted his hips, pushing the garment down along his legs to be kicked off the bed. Naked in front of human eyes - such blue ones, too! - for the first time in an age, he let his hand run along Leon's shoulder, down his arm, then skipping over to his chest, waist, and lightly along one nicely-curved hip. Then his hand skipped again, down and across, his fingertips grazing the special flesh that was already come to attention between them.
Leon's body moved into the touch slightly, and he wrapped his hands around D's waist, pulling them together. He finally found a few words of reassurance, and said, "You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen," then quickly followed the words up with a kiss, preventing the Count from commenting on them immediately.
The detective rolled his body atop the other man's, and he moved his hands lower down D's body. He took the hot flesh of D's erection into a careful, firm grip, and stroked it shortly. His movements seemed sure, but something in his eyes, perhaps the depth of concentration in them, revealed that he wasn't going to be able to fake this much longer.
D closed his eyes for a moment, his body moving sensuously in response to the touch. His eyes opened again and they seemed to look deep into Leon's, as if they could detect everything about the detective himself. Even understanding the influence that Leon was under, he marveled that the beautiful young man had found to accept what he was feeling in spite of the way it flew in the face of his cultural upbringing. Dropping his hand down onto Leon's, he stroked the back of it, then his fingers ringed Leon's wrist and drew his hand away, and up to D's mouth. Turning Leon's hand, he opened his mouth and took one of Leon's fingers into it, licking around the intruder. Slowly he pulled it out, leaving it covered with his own clear saliva. Then he took a second finger in the same way, and after a quick, coy glance down, followed it with a third. The clear liquid seemed to cling to Leon's fingers, nor did exposure to the air seem to dry it out.
Then D drew Leon's hand back down, parting his own legs a little and guiding his fingers to a secret place there. He did not know if this would cause Leon to be repulsed, but he simply provided the silent information about how their mutual desire could be expressed.
Watching D's actions with sharp interest, Leon felt the flesh between his legs jump when the Count attended to his fingers, and allowed himself to imagine what other uses that mouth could be put to. Then, as he felt his hand drawn between D's legs, inside D, Leon realized two things. First, that it felt strange. Second, that this wasn't going to be as hard as he'd thought.
Leon moved his finger experimentally, figuring that was the idea, and at the same time brushed his lips over the Count's, not stopping long enough to actually kiss the man, then let his mouth settle over D's throat, drawing the flesh up between his lips.
Arching his back, D surrendered his neck to Leon's mouth, as his hips undulated slightly in response to the other man's explorations. Reaching up, he raked his nails gently along Leon's bare back, his own heat rising as he settled in his decisions. Slipping one hand between their bodies he closed his fingers almost possessively around Leon's hardness and squeezed it, then stroked down its length and back, repeating the actions. His hips lifted, moving against Leon's touch as if entreating for more.
The detective moved away from D's neck, gasping at the other man's grip on his flesh. He thrust into the hand quite against his will, and at the movement of the Count's hips, he inserted another finger, moving the digits deeper inside. Leon felt a wave of heat move through his body, more than another fever, and he covered the Count's mouth with his own, his kiss no longer gentle, but rough and insistent.
He didn't wait very long before he moved a third finger inside of the Count, and was pleased with himself when D seemed to enjoy the action. Leon thought to himself that he had this whole thing figured out, but realized that if D didn't stop stroking him so enthusiastically...
"D, you'd better... stop..."
A sigh emerged from D's lips, and his hand slid reluctantly away from the eager flesh. Once again sliding both arms around Leon's neck in what was becoming a favorite embrace, D lifted his mouth to Leon's ear and breathed, "Leon, you'd better... hurry!" And his hips lifted, bumping the other man suggestively.
Leon smiled, a moan escaping his lips, and he wanted to quip that those were his thoughts exactly. He seldom kept himself from doing or saying things that he wanted to, but his jokes hardly ever came across correctly, so he'd learned to keep most of them to himself. Not many people appreciated wit from a cop anyway. Not that he was witty...
The detective brought his face to D's again, kissing the edge of the other's mouth. "Do I need to... do anything else? Before..." He wanted to be sure he didn't make some stupid mistake, and certainly not this late in the game.
Without answering, D turned his head, again a little coyly, and licked his palm. Then he reached down and smeared the moisture in his hand over Leon's erection, the sensation delicious, inciting a further wave of heat and need. Then D turned his head, kissing Leon's cheek and whispering, "Please..."
Still reveling in the Count's touch over his heated flesh, Leon moved between the other man's legs, then slowly pushed his way inside, not quite believing that a body could stretch so... remarkably. He struggled to keep from taking D in long, fast strokes, as he wanted to, and moved in as deeply as he could go, breathing in ragged pants that refused to smooth into normal breaths. He pulled D's hands over his head again, holding them to the mattress for a moment, then raced his way down D's arms, to his chest and sides.
D's eyes closed completely and Leon was rewarded with a gasp, and an expression on that pale face that was like nothing... no wait... it came close to D's expression when biting into the treats from that fancy hotel bakery, the ones he'd had to wait in line for early in the morning... D's body undulated as his arms were pinned for a moment but a soft, almost purring sound from his throat gave the clear message that this was something he enjoyed. His body moved in Leon's hands like a cat seeking to be petted in the worst way. Slender legs lifted and D's ankles twined around Leon's as they moved together. The tidal wave of feeling built swiftly.
Leon stopped holding anything back then, and pushed into the Count as hard and as fast as he could, feeling like he was chasing something. Something that, when caught, would bring them both to a place they wanted to be. He felt his body tensing, felt the tension in D's body as well, and with a short cry of nothing in particular, he came, filling the Count's body.
Count D's eyes opened very wide, and his breath gasped and then almost stopped for a moment or two. His hands, which had been twined around Leon's neck, gripped the blond detective's shoulders and a couple of the nails bit into his skin, but the sting of pain was lost in the wash of pleasure. D's muscles tensed and his body seemed to wrap ever tighter around Leon, taking in everything the man gave him. As he took a next breath, little shudders moved through his body, easing slowly as he clung to the man who had taken him so completely.
The detective tightened his grip on D as well, and he held the man long enough that he memorized what the Count felt like in his arms. Taking D's face in his hands, he kissed the other with every bit of passion he felt, in a maneuver that he thought could communicate the message that this was the most incredible thing he'd ever felt, the most incredible thing he'd ever done.
D responded to the kiss very sweetly, nuzzling Leon's cheek and neck when their mouths parted. Slowly regaining normal respiration, D snuggled against Leon, fitting himself into the blond's larger body. "Oh Leon," he murmured, his almost-always serene voice hinting at undertones of both tears and laughter.
There was something so utterly right about the way D felt lying against him. As if - and he knew it was a ridiculous, corny thought - the man were made to be there. He just fit, like a puzzle piece. Fit in his arms.
Tightening his grip around the Count, Leon closed his eyes and sighed. The thought that something might try to take this away from him dropped into his mind, but did not trouble him. He could protect what was his.
But that earlier business, about D deceiving him. That did trouble him. So much so that, as tired as he now was, he knew he could not fall asleep.
D was not sleeping either. Curled in Leon's protective embrace, he was idly running his fingertips along different parts of Leon that he could reach easily - which were a lot of different parts. He seemed to sense the turn of Leon's attention as it occurred. Without looking up, he said quietly, his voice taking on the almost singsong quality he used when telling a story about one of the pet shop denizens, "The man in China... the one Chin Su encountered when he was young... you see he wasn't exactly a man like anyone else. He'd lived a long time already before they met. His people, they were few and every century fewer still. They were known to be excellent with all kinds of animals... the wilder and more feral especially. They had many secrets of this skill. One secret that has not been known by more than a handful of others over the ages is that their blood... contained a poison..."
Leon tried to make sense of what the Count was telling him. The man in China... D's grandfather? His blood... D's blood... was poisonous? Leon had swallowed... and that would explain...
The detective's thoughts were racing down a path that he didn't like, but they were separate from the body he now held in his arms. "What... are you?" he asked, not accusing, not disgusted, but curious.
D's eyes flickered to Leon's face but his head tilted, letting the fine curtain of dark hair cover half of it. His eyes moved back down to follow his fingertips as they traced along Leon's skin. Ignoring the question, he continued speaking in the same soft tone. "If in meeting with a beast, that creature were to bite... they would taste the poison blood. The result would not be to die, not unless something went very wrong. The result would be... you would call it an addiction. A sickness if the creature fled... and the substance they ingested would give the beast a sense of friendliness and trust to the one bitten. A loyalty and desire to be near. The keeper might be bitten once by any creature, but that one would never harm him again. Because of this, it was thought they could charm the animals. None of this was known to Chin. It is a secret kept since the time of days long past when once it was known... and this race were all but slaughtered by alchemists and emperors seeking to use the poison for their own goals. But the most important thing was that a human... should never taste this poison blood. Its effect would be... greater."
Leon could have said a hundred things, could have done a hundred different things. Questions flew through his mind, but none of them seemed fully formed enough to ask. Of course it wasn't true, none of what the Count said could be true. He could almost believe that such things were possible, far across the ocean, but here, in New York? No, the weirdest things he was likely to encounter on these streets were hookers and drug addicts, all younger than himself. Sad people that he couldn't help, that didn't want help.
But D... D had shown him some odd things, he had to admit. This newest tale, however, fell well outside the realms of believability. "What are you saying?" Leon asked evenly, still holding the Count firmly against himself, but the other man's skin was already beginning to feel... different.
Once again D's eyes flickered up to Leon's face, the gold one half-shaded by the fine silk curtain of his hair, and though they flickered away again almost immediately, for that brief instant Leon thought he saw an emotion deep within that odd-colored gaze. A centuries-old sadness.
"Whatever can be done to cure you, I will do it," D said softly, calmly... and for a bare moment it seemed to Leon that there was a great deal of effort behind the customary serenity. "And if it can't... be cured... I will do whatever can be done to make sure you do not suffer."
"Cure..." Leon repeated, his body stiffening, and suddenly, he didn't want to be naked anymore. Disentangling himself from the Count, he rose to retrieve his pants from the floor, then sat on the edge of the bed and began slipping his legs inside the cool cloth.
He'd been given the world's best out, a custom engraved invitation to give up all responsibility in the matter. He was just sick, just under the influence of... something. No need to feel bad about kissing another man, no need to experience any guilt over falling into his bed. It wasn't his fault, was just a mistake.
The best thing he'd ever done in his life, and it was a mistake. Well that was typical.
Snorting, Leon stood up, pulling his pants up with him. "Thanks," he said, trying to make his eyes search the floor for the rest of his clothing, but they were almost too clouded with anger, among other things.
When Leon moved away, D had pulled himself into a little ball, feeling the emotions radiating from the detective all too clearly. He didn't seek the protection of hiding his body with clothing, instead simply pulled his legs up and wrapped his arms around them, resting his forehead against his knees. He did not expect Leon to see it any differently, or to understand how precious the last moments they had spent together would be to D. How he would tuck them in a secret place in his carefully guarded inner self to preserve against the resumption of his near-ageless loneliness. From the moment of awakening to find Leon holding his hand, seeing the punctures and slowly realizing what had occurred, D had understood that any secret hopes he'd nursed before were simply and neatly destroyed by the circumstances of his nature. It was the way things happened. Exceptions did not really exist, they were myths to inspire imperfect beings to hope. It was time to accept.
The detective continued to hunt out his clothing as he spoke, never turning to see D curled on the bed. "Since I seem to have no control over my life or emotions anymore, you should cure me as quickly as possible. We wouldn't want anything like this to happen again." There was probably a bit of sarcasm in his voice, and what else, he didn't want to think about.
Realizing just how stupid he had been to even consider the possibility that he'd found something worth keeping, Leon turned back to the Count, sky blue eyes shielded behind an angry squint. D's posture on the bed took him by surprise, and he didn't say anything for a minute, only stared. Then, without moving, he asked, "What?" his voice both tired and concerned.
Raising his head slightly to look up over his knees at Leon, a suspicious glitter caught the light of one of the several candles in the room. The expression on that pale face was an odd one. Half loss beyond description, and half a slowly cooling mask being resumed. A slight response, a curve of the delicate mouth seemed almost mechanical, like expressions on the face of a doll or puppet. D's odd-colored eyes seemed to look at him from an increasing distance. Somewhere behind them, doors were being slowly closed and locked again and perhaps for all time. There was a sudden shimmer of one gold eye, and a drop of crystal liquid spilled down one porcelain cheek. An almost-surprised blink spilled another drop from the amethyst eye. Then suddenly D moved, so quickly his pale body was a blur, darting to the side of the bed and grabbing a small, empty tea cup on a table at the side. Kneeling, he held the cup to his cheek, attempting to catch the falling droplet. Turning his attention inward, he thought deliberately, 'Leon hates you.'
The drop was followed by another, and another. Almost frantically, D held the cup against his skin, moving it from one cheek to the other as the trickle became a small summer shower.
Leon watched the Count's actions, something inside him breaking. Before he even knew what he was doing, Leon dropped the shirt he'd been holding in his hand and moved to D's side, dropping to his knees as well. He took the teacup from the Count's frantic hands, replacing it to its previous location, and then held the other man by the shoulders, forcing D to look at him. The tears falling down that porcelain face held his attention for a moment, and he moved to drink them away, the salty liquid strange on his lips.
When he pulled back, Leon shook the other man by the shoulders. "Stop it, D. Stop it." He paused before continuing softly, "I'm not sick... am I?"
At Leon's first actions of taking away the little cup, D tried to reach for it again, but when Leon bent to kiss his tears, D straightened and lifted his face, silently urging him to drink the salty liquid. Looking up after Leon's words, the shimmer in his eyes lessening as contact with the man unconsciously eased the bitter ache, he reached for the cup and lifted it to Leon's face.
"Drink," he urged, his voice breathy and slightly shaking. "This is what you wanted... your cure... rare and all but impossible to create, because we... don't..."
Leon narrowed his eyes at the cup, and he almost wanted to slap it away. "You really think..." he started, but stopped himself. Fine, he'd drink the damn cup of liquid. It wouldn't change anything at all.
Taking the cup in his hand, Leon's eyes met the Count's. The room around them disappeared as he brought it to his lips, and Leon could hear every breath either of them took, every beat of each of their hearts. Through the silence, he spoke before drinking. "I have one problem with your theory." Then he threw the liquid down the back of his throat. With a decisive swallow, he continued. "It doesn't explain how I felt... before."
D watched Leon drink the tiny bit of clear liquid collected in the cup as if it was incredibly important to make sure nothing happened to prevent it. Once Leon swallowed, his hand drifted up and touched the detective's cheek softly, then drifted away as if realizing what he was doing a minute too late. His head bowed and he sighed almost inaudibly, then looked up through the veil of his hair as he contemplated Leon's last few words.
"It's not a theory, Detective," he murmured. "It is truth I have seen with my own eyes. And it does not have to explain... before," he paused, a little quiver in his voice as if he were trying to sound casual about something that was very important. "I told you I thought... perhaps... you might have a natural... immunity, and hoped... it was too little to matter but... it did affect you. I hope... there was enough," he added, taking the cup from Leon's hand. His hand shook a little as he placed the cup back on the table.
Leon sighed loudly, frustrated that he couldn't seem to get D to understand what he was trying to say. He could feel the effects of the liquid begin to take hold, and while his mind was becoming a lot less cloudy, he did not feel his desire to be near the Count abate. In fact, if anything, he wanted the man... closer. "It did affect me. I don't know how. But... You think the only way I would want to... be with you is if I was poisoned? That's ridiculous!" Leon lowered his voice, his tone deep. "The way I feel right now has to do with you, not something in your blood."
D watched him and for a moment Leon could see a little doubt, could see for once an expression not of age or wisdom, but something almost childish, like a small boy encountering something he'd never seen before. "I thought you were angry," he said softly.
"I am angry. I'm mad as hell that you think... That you think this is just... just the result of an illness. That you think I'd let myself..." Leon tried to go on, but something was making it hard for him to speak.
The Count's fingers lifted and brushed hesitantly across Leon's face. "I'm sorry..." he said, slowly, "If I thought something incorrect..." He shrugged elegant shoulders ever so slightly. "It has happened before. It did not end well. I do know you are... extraordinary for a human..."
Leon's lips turned up at the corners, more at the hesitant touch than the compliment. "And you are weird. For anyone. And you think too much..." As he finished the statement, the detective moved closer and placed a light kiss on D's lips, one that threatened to grow if only the Count wanted it to.
D's lips parted under Leon's, offering, as one arm moved a little hesitantly up his chest, over his shoulder and around his neck. Hardly daring to believe that Leon's sudden anger was abated so quickly, D leaned closer, but everything about him was tentative, almost afraid to believe the other man still wanted this.
Leon made his way further into D's mouth, his arms closing around the other man in a sure embrace. He had become remarkably clear-headed, and knew exactly what he wanted to do. Pulling away, he looked behind D, towards the bed. "I'm tired. Can we... sleep here?"
Resting in the circle of Leon's arms, almost holding his breath, D said softly, "Yes." He crawled back onto the bed and pushed down the soft quilt that was spread over it, on top of which they had made love. He tucked his body to one side, offering Leon the lion's share of space in the center. "When you wake, I will cook for you... if... you would allow..."
Leon lay on the bed in the spot offered him, pulling D into his arms so that they shared the center of the bed. After kissing the other man's shoulder softly, he asked, "American food? Bacon and eggs?"
D wrinkled his nose and then sighed. "Bacon and eggs." He eased down into the space at Leon's side as if expecting any minute for the man to suddenly push him away. But settle he did, one arm moving to circle Leon's waist. "You may as well enjoy them while you can."
His eyes closing, the detective frowned a little, though the look could hardly be considered anything but pleasant. "What's that supposed to mean?" he asked, voice a little groggy.
D's fingers stroked his skin tenderly. "Nothing," he murmured. "Just that... you might experience a few changes after this. I don't suppose you have ever considered becoming a vegetarian..."
Leon's eyes opened quickly, then closed just as quickly. "No," he said, then added, "Should I?"
Smiling as his eyes closed, D tucked his head against Leon's shoulder, silently sending soothing thoughts to the blond American. He was still a little afraid to believe that everything between them had not ended after his confession, but found that he could not quite help himself from wanting it to be true. Every bit as exhausted by the physical, mental and emotional tests of the day, his breathing became deep and regular as he surrendered to the silent song of Morpheus tucked safely in Leon's embrace.
TBC