Title: farewell
Author: kc-chan (
[email protected])
Rating: R/NC-17
Warning: yaoi, lemon, prob’ly AU and some OOC. (Possibly non-consensual
sex)
PAIRING: Count D x Leon x Count D
++SPOILERS++: um… end of psoh manga, possibly.
ARCHIVE www.wired-dna.net; www.fanfiction.net um… whoever has previous
okays take it. anyone else please email me (not like I am going to say no
or anything. . .)
DISCLAIMER: not mine. . . please don’t sue. Only borrowing them.
COMMENTS: that would be nice.
TIMELINE: Right before the manga ends, Count D knows he must be leaving
soon… and Leon dealing with some hard facts. ^__^
Dedicated to: Val-san, Cheshire, and Michelle!
farewell
By: kc-chan
He slid his finger along the soft lips of the man lying below, deep in a
restful, dreaming slumber from which he could not be stirred. Ghosting
along, the pale finger ran a soft trail from that closed mouth over the
firm lines of the man’s jawbone. Such strong features of masculinity
compared to his frailer, more feminine ones. Blue eyes that were closed
presently, and that would remain closed for the rest of the night.
Flattening his palm over the man’s slowly beating heart, he could feel the
thrumming of a life ticking down its time, twenty, forty, sixty years from
now and there would be only bones in a grave, forgotten. So short, so
frail they were. Yet that was why they amused him so, their laughter and
love of their short lives, especially this one, with all his inherent
flaws.
His white skinned palm ran itself smoothly over those tight muscles of a
well-formed six-pack, smooth skin pliable to his gentle caress. Those
mismatched eyes gazed over the toned legs with the cool sheet entangled in
them. A tender smile formed on the Chinese man’s lips. “Even in your
deepest of sleeps, Mr. Detective, you are as messy and chaotic as you are
awake.” There was a fondness, a longing wisp in his tone, one kept usually
behind a porcelain mask. Regretful.
That lithe arm lifted away from the study of the man’s muscled belly and
gently wove thin, long fingers through the blonde mop of hair the Detective
seemed to rarely comb neatly. He had admired the smoothness and silkiness
of that flaxen mane, stroking it, desperately wanting to commit it to
memory.
“You see, Mr. Detective, I’m afraid I must be leaving soon. I hate to part
from you, but I’m afraid that if I stay longer I… I may end up hurting you
far deeper than I ever could now…” Yet still, that firmed body lying
entangled with in the crisply cool sheets, obviously enjoying the dream
that was ravaging his mind, was an enticing picture.
Hesitantly, the Chinese man leaned forward, stopping breathes away from the
American’s face. He could do it, ensure that the man never knew, something
others of his kind did constantly. To drift into the Detectives
subconscious and break the barrier between reality and dreams.
One pale hand drifted up mindlessly, entangling itself in that blonde mane,
enticing the Count to drift all the closer to the American police officer.
Daringly, the Chinese man concentrated on Leon’s mind, opening it up enough
to see at least what the taller man dreamt.
With a hard, sigh the Count pulled back, “You would dream as you live.”
Hate filled eyes drifted along the poster-lined walls of woman in poses,
half naked and wet with faked desire. Something made him pause; he could…
twist that dream with hardly a thought. There was enough curiosity
residing in the detective to turn the dream towards his liking. After all,
so soon he would disappear from this young man’s life.
Turning his head back to gaze down at the slumbering blonde, the Count
leaned closer once again, stopping a mere breathe away this time, reaching
out with his power to lull the blondes mind towards his commands, pushing
Leon to a deeper sleep whilst expanding the man’s subconscious. Satisfied
with his workings, D leaned forward, running his tongue over the
detective’s lips. The Chinese man’s smile widened, the spice and tobacco
touched his senses first, and dipping forward, he nudged his tongue between
the American’s lips.
Easily they parted for him, gaining him entrance to that warm mouth. The
Count’s lips pressed firmly to those of the blonde’s, fingers tightening
slightly in that thick mop of hair. Duo colored eyes drifted closed as a
strong arm responded to the deep kiss, pressing the lithe body of the Count
closer. Velvet muscles stroking each other, encircling, caressing,
entrapping one another.
Pulling back with a predator’s smirk, D straddled the man below him, hands
firmly resting on that hard chest. The blonde was gasping softly, trying
to determine how the dream became so real. Pale fingers grasped that
blonde hair again, firmly taking the American’s mouth again, ravaging it
completely, and committing every crevice to memory. He tasted like he
lived, dangerous yet under all its bravado, a soft gentle side that D knew
existed, why he continually helped the American.
Parting away nibbled the man’s lower lip trailing down to the neck,
suckling and biting gently while his hands loosened their grip, trickling
down to stroke that magnificent chest.
Quickly the American responded, leaning towards that fiery touch, hands
fastening themselves to the thin waist of the person above him. That wet
trail the tongue left as D clamped it around one pink, erect nipple.
Sucking on the nub, gently teasing it hard with his teeth before moving
over to the other one. The soft, raspy gasps and moans were enticing
enough to continue onward.
Running his tongue up that bronzed chest, D took that strong mouth once
again, forcefully, making the American bend to his terms. He could sense
the swelling the desire firming down there in the detective’s body.
Grinning, his cheek brushed against the strong features of the American’s
face, warm breath whispering into that delicious ear. “How shall I
remember you, my dear detective?” Tracing the curves of the ear D bit down
roughly, tasting the copper of the American’s blood, just as delicious as
the first taste.
Lean arms stroked the blonde’s stomach, teasingly soft touches drifting
further and further downward with every passing stroke. Shifting downward,
D relished the feeling of the man’s growing hardness between the sheet and
his own clothing. Pressing back, D rubbed himself against it, delighting
how it firmed and tightened, watching the man below him writhe and arch,
silently begging for something he did not possess words for.
Fingers tightened in the black, silky mane as a hot mouth enclosed his
shaft into its warmth. Leon gasped sharply as sensations boiled inside
him, hips tilting upwards of their own accord, wanting more. D smiled as
he slipped the man’s hardness from his lips, fingers rubbing small circles
along the inner thighs, tongue pressing faint kisses along the American’s
balls, along that length, trailing a soft wetness along those well tones
thighs.
D pulled away, lifting his clothes from his body, pale as gossamer in the
moonlight flooded room. Strong bronze arms pulled him close, hips rubbed
against his own. With cat-like grace, the Count let his tongue dance over
the collarbone of the slightly taller man, savoring the taste of the
detective’s sheen sweat. Painted lips chuckled, air rushing over and
tickling the American’s ear. “Hm, what form would delight you, Mr.
Detective, I wonder…”
Eyes narrowed as he adjusted his body, gently nudging his own hardening
member against the detective’s own. There was a shiver that coursed
through the blonde’s body, every nerve, every cell in his body seemed to
tighten as another man brushed against him.
Nibbling down Leon’s jaw, D simply pushed soothing feeling directly into
the mind of the normally aggressive man, strengthening the detective’s own
words to himself. “It’s only a dream Mr. Detective… Only you and I and no
one else.”
Sensing more than hearing the words, fingers brushed through the Count’s
fine mane, gently guiding the pale skinned man’s lips towards the
American’s. Grinning against the kiss, the Chinese man nearly purred as
the taller man’s tongue pressed into his mouth, gliding over his own,
teasing his senses. Tenderly they parted, lips bruising and wet with each
other’s saliva.
Rolling against the slender body, Leon’s one arm stroked the lithe side of
the man next to him, cheek pressed tightly to that jetted black hair. The
whispers of denial seeping away as the distant moans of his dream lover
purred with his caresses and touches. Brushing his harden shaft against
the detective’s, D purred as they slide against one another, denying the
temptation of tasting the detective once again.
Fingers explored his body, touching, tenderly tracing the lines and curves
of the other. Lips tasted the Count’s glowing flesh, carefully savoring
each taste as if it were the last. Lean fingers stroked his penis, slowly,
evenly, leisurely enjoying the torment it provided, somehow delighting in
every moan he casted, every gasp he let part from his tender lips.
Bodies grew sleek with the glimmering sheen of sweat, passion ebbing close
to release back to the drowning waves of desire. Rising and falling,
growing bolder and fervor peaking itself, tumbling upwards, outstretching
its hand to brush the heavenly night sky.
Leon swirled in the colour mass of fiery reds and burning flaxen
flutterings of his need. He craved, yearned for, hungered after the purest
feeling of being one with the dream lover beneath him. Those sharp
hipbones rolling against his own, those lean legs wrapped so tightly around
his own.
Curling back, the Chinese man turned over, the faintest gasp of yearning
reaching his sharp ears. Fingers petted the blonde’s shivering shaft, the
other hand reaching towards the bedside, locating the lubricant easily. A
sharp gasp parted the detective as the cool gel was smoothed over him,
fingers groping their way in the dark, pulling that slim body towards his
own. Hungry lips devouring that mouth beneath his, suckling and savoring
that ardent mouth.
Gel slicked fingers trailed down his back, circling over his ribs, back
down to his penis. There was a slight shifting beneath his and then the
sensation of a lean, chiseled back pressed against his torso. Legs
straddled his own, sensations guiding his blindness.
Words, so distant they seemed the reflections of echoes, leading him
closer. He pressed the lithe body to his own, fingers coating his own with
lubricant, guiding them towards the tight hole rubbing against his
hardness. Slowly he extended one finger in, lips teasing the curve of the
ear between them, one arm holding the man below him steady, close.
Slowly, one finger followed by another, he pressed until there were three
stretching the tightness surrounding them. D gasped, pressing back,
arching into the bronze chest above his back, and leaning into the lips
ravaging his body. His own fingers stroking the muscled legs he straddled,
stroking himself, desperately wanting to be filled. Pushing backwards, he
purred at the sensation of the American’s largeness along his backside.
A hissing gasp brushed over his ear as that tightness pressed itself firmly
into his hole, stretching him, filling him so completely. A soft breathe
of ecstasy feel from the lips of the Count. He shifted, delighting in the
sharp intake of air the detective took as he began to move, guiding those
bronze fingers to his hips. The shifting in his body, touching his spirit,
claiming a part of his heart so completely.
Leon panted as that tight warmth seemed to enclose his penis, capturing him
in a cavern of fervent perfection. Hands were lead once again to those
exquisite hips, helping him in drive further. Carefully he pulled
rearward, pausing before pressing back into that swelling hotness, deeper
this time, enclosing himself completely in that warmth, falling into a
boiling heat that captured him, surrounding him in its rhythm.
Tightening his hold on the panting body below his own, he trailed his other
hand downward, stroking the length before him. D gasped, eyes widening as
the American grasped a hold of him, rubbing him, and teasing him. He
pressed backward, imbedding that length in his body, brushing against him
*there*.
Arching up, D’s eyes fluttered in absolute rapture as his own fingers
stroked the detective’s thighs, guiding that larger hand along his
hardness, purring as the strokes became faster, deeper, more sure of
themselves. Harder the surges came, fingers tightening their grip, the
rhythm increasing its tempo, singing out with the heat of their combined
passion.
Pale fingers knotted in those cool white sheets, bunching them up as he
neared his end. Leon cried out, arm tightening briefly as the white fluid
ripped from his body, casting him into the tidal wave of a bursting
euphoria of colours, burning so brilliantly, fading to reveal a hotter,
purer sensation until the absolute clarity washed over his mind heaving him
into a world of whiteness.
D’s arms buckled as the warm cum flooded him, hissing as he released,
spurting into the strong hand that gripped him. One long moment he felt so
utterly connected to the man above him, that human heart trumpeting its
beats in his ears, casting its song into his mind, the choral delight that
left him with tears trailing down his cheeks. Washing away the wantonness
and leaving him a burden of infinite sadness.
So quickly it lulled away, leaving him in the panting arms of a man, a
beautiful human man who had touched him so deeply. Hot breaths washed over
his face as he buried himself in the scent and taste of the American,
lavishing the flesh of the blonde, committing it to the most carefully
treasured memory.
He couldn’t begin to count how long he merely laid in those strong arms,
watching the man fall into an exhausted slumber, dreams no more than a
whispering whiteness, swirling bits of untouchable sensations curling and
securing themselves in the detective’s mind.
Carefully he unwrapped himself, eyes lingering over the form of the
American. Wrapping his clothing back on his own body, D paused before
walking away. Leaning close he brushed a soft, feathery touch to the man’s
cheek, eyes dulled, hidden away once more. But ever so carefully he
indulged himself to those slightly swollen lips once more, brushing over
them with his tongue, before slipping away like silk over flesh. Turning
away and departing before the slumbering man would need to rise.
Leon shifted, curling towards the warmth left by that phantom partner of
his fantasy.
Groping towards awareness, there was a buzzing that echoed about him,
beckoning him back to the planes of reality. One blue eye shifted open and
glanced at the beeping alarm beside his pillow.
With a snort, he rolled over and slammed a heavy hand down on it. Groaning
he stretched, letting himself indulge in that languished tautness. A
strange scent tickled his nose, and carefully he rose from his bed.
Realization dawned upon him leisurely, the slight pain of over-exertion,
and the few slight grazes of scratches over his body…
Blue eyes blinked rapidly as it crashed over him, stumbling towards his
bathroom he fumble about at the tub’s faucet, stepping into the freezing
water of Los Angeles. Water pelted his skin, numbing it to its artic
temperature.
“It was a wet dream… Nothing more.” He murmured to the old tiled walls,
watching as water trickled down them, joining into the stream that pooled
about his feet. The fear ensnared his heart, tightening him in places he
did not want to dwell on, for every time he closed his eyes the dream lover
would be there. *He* would be there, with that smirk, those mismatched
eyes gazing at him, ensnaring him.
A fist slammed against the wall, ears only hearing the gasping of breaths
not the pounding of the water spraying the ceramic. His body shivering now
as water cascaded about him, its icy, disdainful grip chilling him so
deeply, yet blue orbs were opened in an unseeing shock as he leaned against
the tiled wall attempting to grasp at what he had dreamt.
The feathery touches that set ablaze his flesh.
Those soft lips and that velvet muscle entwining with his.
That purring body beneath his as he…
As he…
Thundering about him the water fell, plastering his hair down.
As he…
Fingers fisted and opened, as anger swelled and dissipated, teeter-
tottering within his mind.
As he….
That white hot, purest moment sealing away his heart.
Those searing eyes that pinned him, tortured him, and confused him so.
He sank to his knees, fingers grasping the hot water knob and twisting it,
letting the burning water scald his flesh, attempting to burn, to cleanse,
to forget…
Yet still the memory burned, those sad eyes, dulled with knowledge, with
time…
Two mismatched orbs that had entrapped him and pinned him against the one
thing he was not strong enough to fight alone…
Himself.
