21-Aug-2002
Pet Shop of Horrors: Earthsong
by bonnejeanne and cassiopeia
Title: Earthsong
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: This is a sequel to our first fic, "Blood". See Part One for full Notes.
WARNING THIS SECTION: Lemon - under 18 please don't read!
Earthsong: Epilog
D sat in front of the mirror in his bedroom. Leon would be back any moment, from making a last phone call or checking on Chris yet one more time or whatever errand had nagged him last of all at the end of the very, extremely long day. Taking advantage of his absence, though comfortable in it only with the assurance that he was close, D removed his clothes and bathed the imagined grime of the sojourn among the human population away. Wrapping himself in a silk negligee, he sat in front of the antique Chinese cherrywood vanity and brushed his hair dry with even, measured strokes.
Odd eyes gazed into their reflection, as the quiet of the moment enveloped him.
For a moment, restlessly, he thought of Q-chan and wondered where the rabbit-bat was, but it was simply an excuse his mind manufactured for the purposes of distraction. He knew his pet had returned through the scroll, had even seen him ensconced happily with a strawberry and kiwi tart of his own. Had petted and praised him for his bravery in the excitement of the trip to China. And the babbit had purred and chattered softly about nothing... but D sensed something odd from Q-chan, a watchfulness that he'd been aware of from time to time, now sharpened in some intangible fashion.
But even musing about that was avoidance. Avoiding the thing he didn't want to be alone with.
/He who loves gives hostages to Fortune.../
The words seemed to echo through the spaces in his mind. Was this... love? Love as humans knew it? This wonderful, thrilling, frightening, terrible loss of composure, this bone-deep knowledge that the world now required the presence of another to stay in recognizable order? Were such fragile, shallow beings capable of feeling something of this immensity?
Was he?
When he'd plucked the bullet out of the air, felt it burning his immortal flesh, he had known at once a terror and a courage that he had never dreamed of, much less experienced. He could have stopped the world with a word, at that moment, to prevent some unacceptable event from turning it all inside out.
But the next moment, the next ticking of a clock, the next beat of a fragile human heart, and Leon stepped between him and the other man. A merely human Leon could never have done it, but with the substance of a few molecules of D's hemoglobin wandering through his body, making unknown changes to his living cells, he'd moved faster than D could have imagined or prevented. Yet the changes... would they have been enough to resist the damage of that hot metal had it struck something more vital than the flesh and muscle of his arm?
No. They would not.
A wind from nowhere stirred the candles and the silk hangings, stirred his hair, and he absently began stroking the brush through it again, never realizing his hand had stopped in the first place.
Something irreversible was happening, so very rapidly. He'd given Leon his tears... but even he could not say if it had been quickly enough. Even a kami could not predict what the chemistry of human emotion might do to the reaction.
Leon stood outside the hall that led to D's bedroom. In a minute, he'd go inside, to the other man, but he wanted to stay out there, for a few seconds. He could not think quite rationally with D's eyes on him.
But there was nowhere he could go inside the shop where the Count could not see him, he felt. The store was a part of D, or D was a part of the store, he didn't know which, but that they were connected seemed obvious to him.
If he left, left the shop and D's life, it would not make anything any better. If he were not there, he could not hurt D, but if he were not there, he also could not keep others from hurting the man. Every problem had a solution, if you looked hard enough, but the answer to this one escaped him.
He began to wish he had not had that dream. Or even, did not remember it, as he did not usually remember them. Leon did not like the idea of ignorance, but maybe just this once, it would have been better...
Finally, he moved into the hallway, made tired by his thoughts, and passed through the beaded curtain at the entrance to the bedroom. Leon tried not to let his eyes find D, to make them look at the floor or the wall instead, but it was too difficult, and after a moment, he gave up.
As soon as he quit forcing his gaze elsewhere, it centered on the Count, and he watched the other man's eyes, checking. He thought that he would always check, from now on, after having seen the other two versions. There was no real way to mix them up, and he didn't even know if the other two were real or not, but... D's two-tone gaze was comforting now, as it always had been.
Leon didn't move very far from the door, only watching. If something were to happen to Leon, or if Leon were to disappear, then it would destroy the Count. That wasn't fair, but it seemed to be the truth. Then the real terror of the situation hit him, and he almost shuddered. What would happen... to him... if D... were to go? What might he become?
He found no answers, and he was too tired to be angry about it.
D placed the brush on the vanity and stood gracefully, crossing the room, his eyes watching Leon, looking carefully into him. He noted the instant lift he felt at the mere sound of the beaded curtain, that ignored all his concerns, noted it, but could find no resignation, nor the tiniest trace of regret.
Stopping in front of the blond detective, with barely an inch of space between them, he gazed into sky-blue eyes, reading the troubling, and placed his hand along the curve of Leon's cheek. Slowly, he smiled. It wasn't an answer to the other man's terror, or even to his own. It simply was. He smiled because Leon was there.
Leon did not lean into the touch, but smiled in return, then gently took D's hand away and led them both to the edge of the bed. He was carrying a heavy weight, and he wanted to sit down, felt like he probably couldn't stand up too much longer.
As soon as his body touched the surface of the bed, he felt like he should say something. His mind would not let him do otherwise, and he fought with himself over what it would be. But he realized, after a moment, that he did not have the energy to come up with anything clever or tactful or even appropriate. He'd just have to say it.
Leon waited until D sat beside him before breaking the silence. "I know you said you could not explain yourself to me, but I will ask you this anyway. How long will you live?" He kept his voice low and matter-of-fact, but soft enough to keep it from sounding like an interrogation.
One amethyst and one gold eye widened. Then D's gaze dropped to his lap for a moment, rose again, and moved off, into a corner of the room, or more likely some unseen distance.
"A long time."
Leon's face did not change. "A lot longer than I will." He paused. "And what happens when I... die, and leave you?"
The storm came up quickly and without warning. *Smack!* D's palm met the side of Leon's cheek with only enough force to sting, and he all but fled from Leon's side, stopping just inside the beaded curtain with his back to the detective and his arms crossed tightly over his chest.
The detective blinked, but made no move to soothe the skin that D had slapped. It hurt, but the pain was in his stomach, not his face. He found the strength to stand, but spoke from beside the bed, not moving any closer to D. "I don't want you to be hurt because of me. But..." He trailed off, not sure what he was trying to say, the train of thought lost. He shook his head. "Not facing it... isn't going to make it go away."
And just as quickly as it had sprung up, the storm passed.
D turned around, his arms dropping from his chest. Leon could not read the expression on his face - it had more than an element of that unearthly serenity he had first seen on it what seemed like so long ago. But there was something else as well, something that made everything about the Count seem to stand out in exquisite detail, from the jewel sparkle of his eyes to the beautiful features of his face, to the graceful lines of his body. Had Leon still been in any kind of denial about his feelings for D, it would have crumbled to dust in that moment. It was possible to imagine kneeling at his feet, as he stood there, and it would have felt... right.
Without haste, D crossed back to where Leon stood, and reached up to place his hands on the detective's broad shoulders. With a gentle push, he sat the man down. Then he bent, lifting Leon's face in his hands, and kissed him.
A small eternity later, he lifted his mouth only a few inches and whispered something for Leon's ears alone. And the keenest senses of the most magical creature in the shop could not have detected the words.
"I am not my father."
Leon's heart did not beat. At least, he did not feel it beat for a few seconds. He looked up into D's eyes, and nodded his understanding. So it was true, the man had been D's father... His voice was a whisper when he spoke, because to have said the words any louder, would have made them too real. "I'm afraid," he said, sounding unafraid. "I'm scared," he said, sounding unfrightened. "I don't think I've ever felt like this, and... I can't control it." Leon kept looking up into D's eyes... they were so close, he could not look away. He did not want to look away.
D's slender hands had not fallen away from Leon's face when he moved back. One of them moved along the side of Leon's neck soothingly. It almost - but not quite - covered the reaction D had to Leon's words. A little of his own terror in answer, but somehow drowning that out quickly, an almost wild glow that answered the realization of what Leon's words referred to. /I don't think I've ever felt like this.../ It was an intoxicant of a kind and strength that the Count had simply no resistance for.
"You said before that failure did not have to be an option," D murmured. Then he straightened up. "I will never give this up unless you do not... love me."
Leon's heart really did stop then, he was sure of it, and his eyes widened. There was a moment of something strange flitting across his face, as if he'd just been told that the delicious meal he'd been eating was, in actuality, made from his best friend, but it passed, and left an even odder expression in its place. He reached up and caught D around the waist, pulling the other man towards him and down, until he could kiss dark lips and bury his hands in even darker hair.
D sprawled across Leon's lap with a boneless abandon, his mouth opening wide to take his lover's tongue as deeply as he could. His arms wound around Leon, fastening tightly. His passion flared brightly, as if each contact with Leon brought it more and more fully awake than it had ever been in his life. He thrilled to feel his own pulse running faster, harder. No one and nothing could make him feel this way. Only His Love.
Leon's hands wound around black silk hair, like a favored possession in his grasp, and he reclined, pulling D down on top of him, never breaking their kiss. The weight was easy to hold, yet just substantial enough to make him feel like he could safely reverse the position, which he did, as he began to slide the light silk off of D's body. He had in his arms the only thing in the world that he ever wanted to hold like this, the only thing that he ever needed to. There could never be another.
Leon kissed the now bared flesh of D's chest, back up his long, pale neck to his chin. "You know I do," he said, answering the half-question from before, not explaining any further than that, and moved back to D's mouth.
There was no mistaking the increase in the intangible glow that somehow emanated from the exotically beautiful man in Leon's arms. D *did* know. The knowledge all but blinded him to every other thing in existence.
Stretching his arms out, he offered himself to Leon. His eyes tracked the blond's every movement while his body hummed wildly out of control, responding to each touch, kiss and caress. Very shortly he was gently writhing against the other man in pleasure. His hands rose from the bed to claw at Leon's clothing, attempting to pull it off. He wanted to feel Leon's skin, his substantial form with its weight and density, against his own.
Leon found ways to shed his clothing without letting up any on D's body, and when they could lie with nothing between them but each other, Leon found that it was not enough to just feel D's skin, he wanted to be inside, where they could not hide from each other. Where everything was as clear as water.
He moved a hand beneath the Count, pushing a couple of fingers inside the man, and brought his mouth down over a nipple, wanting to hear it, wanting to see it... D's love, written on his face by a cry. Wanted to know that this was no mistake, that this was right. A reminder.
He was not disappointed. The Count's legs spread, his knees bent and his body lifted urgently to the penetrating touch, as a formless sound emerged from his lips, coming from far down inside of him. It rose like a chaotic animal call, vibrating with need, musically spiraling into higher octaves. Moisture seemed to form on, and in his body, a delicate effusion that had a unique aroma of sweet musk.
One of his hands buried in Leon's blond hair, as his body arched. His other hand fisted and then beat petulantly on his lover's back, testifying to his impatience. But in the next instant it opened and clutched as D was lost in a sudden flood of pleasure.
A smile slid onto Leon's mouth, and he kissed D again, even as he moved his fingers out and something else in. It was not that he enjoyed making D wait, not really, but more that the dark-haired man didn't have much tolerance for foreplay.
Leon moved further, deeper, as deeply as he could, pushing D down against the mattress with all of the energy he had. The more quickly he moved, the quicker he wanted to move, an answer to D's impatience.
He was where he wanted to be, he was where D wanted him to be, and that fact excited him more than anything else, and made all the other things seem a little smaller in comparison. Failure really was not among the choices.
Leon let the feeling of being joined with D wash over him for a while, the feeling of being alive and free and moving, of friction and none, both in the right places. Of the simple, engrossing happiness a single touch could bring.
D rode the wave of emotion and sensation as he rode his lover's sweet flesh, until everything burst into a series of bright, soundless explosions that left him unable to do anything but cling to Leon with trembling fingers and still spasming body. Somehow his face found Leon's neck, nuzzling ecstatically, and his mouth fastened on the thundering pulse beneath the skin, holding back from a deep bite only because of the salty liquid sating his interior. It was exhilarating and terrifying to belong to this man, it was as necessary as air. Even in the slow wash of relaxation, his body did not want to give up clutching Leon. Almost lethargically, he licked a little perspiration from the blond's jaw. One hand relaxed enough to spider lightly over Leon's back and the curve of his rear. My Leon.
Holding as tightly to D as the man held to him, Leon closed his eyes and buried his head in D's hair. The touch across his back felt good, and he could have remained that way for a long time. But something made him shift and turn onto his side, pulling D's back against his chest. It might have been just to get better access to that hair that he loved so much (and he did kiss it), but the way his arms circled around D's waist, crossing in front of the man, suggested other things. They suggested permanence.
Leon opened his eyes for a moment. "Just like this," he said slowly, as the words came into his mind. "Just like this, and it'll be okay." He tightened his embrace a notch and let his eyes fall shut again.
Snuggling against the substantial form of his lover, D heard the soft words. He took one of Leon's hands from around his waist and lifted it to his mouth for a moment, kissing the palm, then his fingertips. Returning it to his waist, he gave Leon's hand a little pat.
His face was smooth and relaxed, the serene expression quickening for a few seconds to the hint of a mischievous smile. "It will *not* be 'okay'," he purred softly.
"It will be much better than that."
~owari~