Foray Into Darkness


He came into the restaurant every night, long after the dinner crowd had left. It would be one, two in the morning, the place reduced to an empty gray hole full of nothing. No ambience, no entertainment, no people…there was no reason for any one to come here, save for the fact that not many other establishments were open so late.

He would come in, standing out among the few people that were there, none of the others regulars. But he was there every day, ordering the same exact thing. An order of tapas, and a mat shooter. The thought alone made me cringe, but when the waiter came back to me with the drink order I always served it up. If the guy wanted to get sick it wasn’t my problem.

I could never get a good look at him, hidden in the shadows as he was. I know he wore tight black jeans, black boots, and an oversized gray sweater that still managed to cling to his body while hanging off his shoulders. He was slim, yet built, the lithe muscles pressing against their fabric constraints. Jagged bangs shadowed his face, and a long trail of hair swept down his back and hung limply by his side. I suspected it was held back in a braid.

I had to admit…I was enraptured. He was a complete mystery, in body almost as much as in mind.

I came home every night to the rented crawlspace I called an apartment. It wasn’t, really, just one of those places people rent to sleep in. A plastic, climate-controlled coffin, about 4x4x9, enough space for you, a vidphone, and maybe a bag. I came back, climbed into my coffin, and lay on the foam mat that formed part of its bottom. It never failed, my hand would find its way towards the bulge in between my legs, and I would start rubbing against the tented material of my pants. I thought of him every time. I would unzip myself, reaching in to caress soft curls and draw my hard shaft out. I would already be wet by then, trying to figure out what my mystery man looked like, what color eyes he had, whether his hands would be soft or hard against my skin. I used the liquids leaking out of me as lubricant, coating my whole shaft as I hold it in a too tight grip and start pumping myself. I wondered if his body was as beautiful as its silhouette, what color skin he had. My cock would be at full attention by then, pointing up towards my stomach. I would pretend it was his hand, milking me, teasing the vein running underneath my shaft, the folds of my head. When I imagined his voice I would push my thumb into the slit, and the sensations would drive me into completion. My cock would twitch, then pulse, sending jet after jet of milky cream onto my stomach. I would fall asleep shortly afterward, only to wake up the next day with my cock stuck to my lower abdomen. It was a bitch.

He talked to me one day. I remember, as he walked towards me, thinking that he didn’t get less vague as he came closer, his form remaining still a shadow in the dark place. His hands, I saw on the counter, were a pale shade of cream, enhancing long, graceful fingers. He was still a silhouette, though, hidden by a darkness just out of my reach. He leaned forward, brushing his cheek against mine fleetingly on his way to whisper into my ear, and I could feel his eyelashes along my cheekbone. I had remembered seeing swirls of color underneath those eyelashes before he got too close…blue, purple, I really wasn’t too sure. My mind wasn’t working properly at the moment.

“You like to watch me.”

His voice didn’t disappoint. It was smooth and deep, penetrating. When I didn’t say anything else he chuckled lightly, as if it amused him, and he licked a trail from my ear down my jaw.

“I can give you more to watch, if you like.”

He left me then, turning to leave the bar, and I could feel the coolness from where his saliva was evaporating off of my cheek. The taste of him encouraged me, and I leapt over the bar, intent on finding him before he was lost into the night.

My first really clear remembrance of that night was when I stepped out of the bar. I vaguely remember the muted shouts coming from inside, people telling me to get back behind the bar before they fired my ass, but I really could have cared less. What really got to me, though, was the air that hit me as soon as I stepped outside. It was just a breeze, a little chillier than you would usually find on a given September night, but it seemed nearly artic as it swirled around me, especially given that I worked in a hundred degree conditions.

He was standing at the corner, body drenched in darkness. He raised his face towards me, moonlight glinting off his eyes in silver streaks as we made eye contact, and I knew. The chase was on.

He disappeared into the shadows, and I could swear I saw a grin as he turned away. Then my world was reduced to the sound of footsteps hitting damp pavement, as I followed him into the night. He was always just a few yards from me, forever hidden from my sight. We made our way through the sleeping city, the empty gray streets. I chased him through the fog, through alleyways and up and down staircases. We wound our way past a thousand corners, me chasing the fall of his boots, not knowing our destination.

And as suddenly as it had started, it was over. One inconspicuous door, identical to any other, hidden in some back alley. I heard him stop for less than a second outside, heard the door open and shut as his footsteps faded, leaving only echoes to hang in the moist air. Not even thinking, I found myself running through the portal, tracing his steps. What awaited for me inside… it was another world.

It was even darker in the strangely large space, if that was possible, areas lit up by glowing green lights. Multi-leveled platforms jutted out of the floor, concrete covered in vinyl, and people stood on display atop them. Hundreds of people, crowded together, dressed in black leather and lace. Not dancing, not engaging in any kind of sordid acts, just… standing.

Slightly intimidated, dressed as I was in a t-shirt and jeans, I was about to leave when something caught in the corner of my eye. A braid, flying through the masses, and that was the first time I realized his hair was chestnut brown, almost honeyed in his hues.

So what else could I do? I went after him.

Trying to make my way past the crowds, I wondered how he had glided so effortlessly through them. I had to stop, occasionally, to pull myself onto the raised platform, and it was only after I had made my way through the large space several times that I realized he was gone. Or at least, lost to me for the night. I had nearly made my way back out of the place when a hand wrapped itself around my wrist, pulling me back into the storm of bodies.

“Nice.” It was a nice voice, deep and calm, but it wasn’t His. I felt some one’s hot breath on the back of my neck, and I turned around to stare into emerald green eyes, one of them half obscured by a fall of light brown hair. “But I doubt you really mean to be here.”

A tug on my wrist, and I was being pulled back into the crowd, before being thrown into the folds of a curtain. I tumbled, a little, finding myself seated on one side of a booth. Onyx eyes blinked up at me from across the black velvet table, and the boy from before slid in next to me.

“What exactly are you doing here?”

“I…” I had no reason to answer him. I didn’t know him, after all. “I followed some one.”

“Mysterious.”

The onyx eyed boy snickered even as my eyes narrowed.

“I was just about to leave.”

“No, don’t. Who did you follow? An ex-lover? Girlfriend? Maybe we can help you.”

The other boy nodded. “Barton knows every one here. He likes to analyze them.”

If I ever fidgeted, I would be fidgeting now. These people were proving all too strange to me, and I would be having a more pleasant time without their company. But nonetheless, I was curious. “A boy. My height. With long chestnut brown hair, pulled into a braid.”

“Duo.”

The named rolled itself through my mind, around my mouth. “Duo.”

“That’s what I said. Any way, he doesn’t like to play with us.”

“Play?” I looked back and forth between Barton and the other boy, slanted eyes narrowed in a laconic gaze. “What is it you people do?”

Trowa waved his hand around in a casual gesture, looking bored. “We’re vampires.”

“Vampires aren’t real.”

“We’re real.” It was the second sentence the other boy had spoken. He caught my questioning stare, nodding his head. “Chang Wufei.”   

“Heero.”

Wufei’s lips wound up in a small, amused smile. “Heero, have you ever tasted of human blood?”

“It’s very…sensual.”

“It’s sick.” I got up to leave, blocked as Barton placed a hand on my shoulder and pushed me back down.

“You’re just saying that because you don’t know.”

That’s when he kissed me. Firm yet gentle lips pressed against mine, and I would have pulled away in shock and disgust if the whole thing didn’t feel so damn good. Then I felt something moist try to press between my lips, and I parted them to allow Barton’s tongue admittance. It delved into my mouth, caressing my own tongue as I pressed back. It was my first kiss, believe it or not. Any way, I was getting really into it when he moved his tongue out, moving his lips to caress my lower one. And then he bit down. I could taste metallic wisps as some blood seeped onto my tongue, but he was lapping most of it up, sucking at the small wounds. Wufei’s voice whispered in my ear, and I wondered when he had moved so close.

“Imagine this. A steel blade pressed against soft skin, the danger inherent in such a situation. One small movement of the wrist and the blade cuts, not deeply, but enough. It breaks the skin, cutting across the surface, red liquid following in its wake. And that liquid spilling out isn’t just a mixture of compounds and molecules. It’s life. Draw the blade too deep, and you can kill a man. It’s an amazingly erotic act, knowing the danger of the situation, trusting that it won’t come to that, drinking the life force of another person. Really, you’re possessing some one in the most intimate way, even more so than in sex. Don’t you think?”

I pulled back, breaking up the kiss, my breath coming in pants. I lifted a hand to wipe off the blood trailing lightly down my chin. “I’m leaving.”

And I did. They only snickered as I left, Wufei fingering the blade that had appeared on the table, red droplets appearing on his fingertips. I stepped out into the night, feeling again the strange coldness that I had first stepped out into, and I made my way home. I was tired and disoriented. I had probably lost my job. Sighing as I entered the complex, I climbed up to the level my cubicle was in, sliding open the hatch to crawl in. I closed the entrance again, letting my eyes adjust to the almost total darkness as I slid onto the foam mat. That’s when I realized I wasn’t the only person in there.

“It took you long enough to get back here.” He was leaning casually against the far end of the coffin, legs slightly bent to accommodate the small width, braid trailing down to rest by his thighs. I rolled over onto my stomach, reaching out to feel his cheek, making sure I wasn’t hallucinating. It felt soft, and warm.

“How did you find me?”

“I can do a lot of things, Heero.”

I sat up and inched closer to him, reveling in the feeling of his flesh against my palm. I kept brushing his cheek, nestling my fingers into the soft brown of his hair. His eyes stared back at me evenly, a thousand shades of blue and purple glowing with an almost unnatural light. He lifted a hand, pressing fingertips against the bite marks on my lip.

“Did you have fun at the club?”

I shrugged. “Are you one of them?”

“No. I’m not.” Even as he spoke he pushed me back down onto the mat, my legs spread and him sitting in between. “Why? Have you developed a blood fetish?”

His tongue lapped at the sensitive skin at the nape of my neck, and as he pressed down against me I could feel his hard length against my stomach. “I don’t understand the appeal.”

His hand reached down, and I heard the audible clicking of a zipper. For one fleeting moment I wondered if this was what I really wanted, my first time with a complete stranger, but when his fingers wrapped around me I realized it didn’t matter. I was too far gone to stop it now. He stroked me, long graceful fingers running up and down my length, even as he explained. “It’s simple really. Vampires seem to be a highly romanticized legend in modern society. They’re the only facet of horror even remotely connected to sexuality. Those people you met may not live forever, they may not die if they go out into the sunlight, but they can drink blood and pretend. Make believe they’re something greater than they are…legends, sex symbols, all in their own right. That’s where the appeal comes from.”    

I moaned, arching into his touch, his words reduced to sensations of air moving along the side of my face and down my neck. He let go of me then, moving back, and I was surprised when I heard myself whimper at the loss. He smirked, peeling my jeans off and tossing them in the corner.

“Do you like to be top or bottom?” He moved up my body, kissing me on the lips for the first time as he awaited my answer. It was strangely sweet, that kiss, just a gentle pressure that was gone as soon as it was given. It was unassuming and unpretentious, just… a kiss.

“I… I don’t know.”

“You’ve never done this before. You get to be bottom then.”

He looked me over than, and I was surprised once again when I felt myself embarrassing slightly. I wasn’t wearing anything but a tight t-shirt at this point, my cock hard and pointed upwards, while he was still wearing all his clothes.

“Take off your shirt. I want to see all of you.”

Well… I guess I would soon be completely naked in front of him. I reached down, grabbing the bottom of my t-shirt before lifting it off. I tossed it away to join my forgotten jeans, blushing for maybe the first time in my life.

“Mmm. Very nice.”

“Do I get to see you as well?”

He just chuckled. “I think I like us the way we are now… you, spread and wanton, me, domineering and… well… fully clothed. I don’t suppose you have any lube.”

I shook my head a little as he reached down to pull open his zipper, drawing himself out. He was completely hard as well, and more than a little wet. Pre-cum shone on the slit in his head, and used his thumb to try to spread it over his cock. “That’s too bad. It’s going to hurt like a bitch then.”

I didn’t have any complaints. He took a hand, teasing my ball sac before moving downwards toward my anus. I shivered slightly as his finger found my hole, running circles around it, but I though I was doing a pretty good job of keeping my body under control. That all flew out the window, though, when he forced that finger inwards. My whole body jerked at the intrusion, and I couldn’t help the wince that formed on my face.

“It gets better.”

He whispered it in my ear, and I relaxed a little as he trailed kisses up and down the side of my face. His finger kept moving within me, forming a now pleasant sensation that I was quickly getting used to. All to soon he drew the finger out, and I felt what must have been the head of his cock nudging against my entrance.

“Ready?”

It made me laugh, inwardly, that he would ask when he would have done it any way. A second later he was forcing his way inside of me, and my fingers were vainly trying to grip the hard foam beneath them. I cringed as he entered me, inch by inch, until he was fully seated. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t hurt like hell. After a moment he pulled nearly all the way out, than thrust back into me, a quick, hard movement that hit against something inside of me. Waves of ecstasy poured through my body, I arched up to drive myself deeper onto him. “Oh, God.”

He chuckled lightly, pistoning in and out of me. My whole world at that moment was comprised of sounds of flesh hitting flesh, soft pants, and Duo’s cock moving violently inside of me. Just as I felt a crescendo building in my groin his hand moved over my cock, moving in rhythm with his thrusts. That drove me over the edge, waves of pleasure shooting out through my body as my cock emptied stream upon stream of cum. I was vaguely aware of Duo coming inside of me a few seconds later, wet fluid coating my insides.

He collapsed on top of me then, panting and sweaty, and his cock slid from my body. I collected myself, evening out my breath before I attempted conversation. I brushed his bangs out of his face, tucking them behind his ears, and lifted his eyes to meet mine.

“Why?”

He blinked sleepy eyes at me before rolling over to my side and pulling me into a loose embrace. His arms fell over my waist, the wool of his sweater itchy against my skin. I could feel him nuzzling into my neck. “I find myself drawn to you.”

“But why the chase? Why not just meet me here?”

He licked his way over my throat, giving his answer in between kisses and swirls of the tongue. “It was something of a prelude.”

“Prelude?”

I could feel him smile against my skin. “Do you know why I dislike people like Barton and Chang? They’re just children playing make believe. They have no idea what it’s like to need to take others’ lives in order to survive, to really hunger for something like blood.”

“Duo?”

“They have no inkling at all of what it’s like to be me.”

Those words were the last thing I was aware of before I felt two sharp fangs puncture the skin at my neck. My last thought, however, flew back to Barton and Chang, and the fact that the whole experience was indeed… amazingly erotic. And then, my world went black.


~owari~ 
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