Blood Kisses
by Dark Ki (

Chapter 1: Eyes of Admirers

Warning! This story contains language, violence and GRAPHIC descriptions of yaoi (sexual acts between two men), as well as some bondage and non-consensual stuff. If you are not 18 or if you are offended easily, please do not read this! If you chose to ignore this warning, I will not be held responsible for any psychiatric care you require. ^_^ I will also ignore any flames that you send because you feel that Squall and Zell do not make a cute couple or because you hate yaoi. (Face it: there's a LOT of us yaoi fic-writers out there who do what we like, and this IS on a yaoi site, after all! At least, it SHOULD be, unless someone else put it where it doesn't belong.) This fic is a MAJOR what-if; don't be surprised if almost nothing in here fits into the FFVIII storyline. Thanks to Miracle Shining for her inspiration on this one, too. You just rock, Miracle-san! Thanks also to Serdar for his inspiration; a little of the blackness of Dark Age got in here, I think! ^_^

"You're eighteen?" The man narrowed his eyes appraisingly; the boy was too damn short and fresh-faced to be over sixteen, though he had broad shoulders and powerful arms.

"Yeah. I know I don't look it, but I am. Got the ID to prove it." The boy chucked a laminated card onto the desk and leaned back, waiting for a reaction.

The man scooped up the ID and gave it a thorough once-over. To his surprise, it damned well looked genuine. He snorted and tossed it back to the kid, who caught it in midair between two fingers with a sly smirk.

"So, can I have the job?"

"Why'd ya get kicked outta GARDEN?"

The kid grinned. "I like to fight."

The burly man chuckled. "Good. Ya start tonight. Keep the place from gettin' too rowdy while yer servin' drinks, got it?"

"No prob." The kid offered his hand to the man, who shook it once, just enough to feel that the kid did indeed have a strong grip. He got up, running the fingers of one hand through his spiked blond bangs. He certainly looked like he belonged in a place like this, with his punkish dark clothes and the elaborate black tattoo that ran the length of the left side of his face. "See you later, then." He turned to leave.

"Hey, kid."

The boy turned. "Yeah?"

"Watch out for them freaks. They'll eat ya alive if ya don't."

Snickering under his breath, Zell left, his hard-soled boots tapping swiftly on the floor.


When the owner mentioned freaks at the Cursed Gaze, he wasn't kidding. The place was packed with young men and women in leather, silk, metal, vinyl, rubber... and most of it was black or deep red. Zell saw men wearing black lipstick and nail polish, and girls in fishnet tops with nothing underneath. And every person on the floor was dancing to a hypnotic, almost evil beat that never stopped, like the pulse of some demon. Dancing might not even be a good word for what they were doing; it was more like a cross between writhing in agony and the throes of sexual ecstasy. Considering the state of undress that some seemed to prefer, Zell wouldn't have been one bit surprised if they actually were screwing each others brains out on the dance floor.

Those that weren't dancing were smoking long black cigarettes, filling the air with strange perfumes that made Zell wonder just what they were inhaling. Most also had drinks in front of them , and the dominant refreshment was a deep red wine that he had to keep the bar stocked with at all times. Most of the crowd wore jaded, weary expressions that were tinged with hints of predatory lust as they scanned the others for potential conquests.

Can't anybody around here just enjoy a good beer? Hell, never imagined a crude tub like Irons would own a joint like this. Either he knows just how to draw in this kinda crowd, or these guys've made this place all their own.

Zell was just starting to wonder if the place could get any more creepy when he spotted a tall young man-- maybe about Zell's age-- in the middle of the crowd, gyrating through a raunchy bump and grind with a scantily-clad woman pressing her back against his chest, and twenty-something redheaded guy wearing only a pair of shiny black vinyl pants crushed up against his back. From the enraptured expression on the middleman's face, Zell thought that he might be fucking the woman while the guy behind him was doing the same to him. Zell shivered; these people were more than even he'd ever dealt with.

Suddenly, the tall guy in the middle turned his head toward Zell as one of the few white spotlights in the dim club settled on their little group. The dancer practically laid his cheek on his own shoulder, his face still caught in a rictus of violent pleasure. Zell's breath caught in his throat. He'd never even thought about a man before sexually, but this one...! He could see the man was dressed from head to toe in black leather: tight pants, steel-toed boots that stopped almost at his knee, and, as the woman turned and dropped to her knees to run her teeth over his leather-clad crotch, an open vest that revealed an expanse of muscular, white-skinned chest and stomach. A heavy silver Y-chain with an odd pendant hung around his neck, two thick leather belts were cross-draped over his hips, and his nipples bore small steel rings. His black hair was longish for a guy, reaching in feathery, messy ruffles to his chin, and thin streaks of it were dyed red, violet, and white. Both of his ears were also pierced, the entire outside curve of each marked with a line of tiny steel rings. His skin was ghostly pale, even his lips-- makeup, maybe?-- except for the shimmering graphite and pearl shadow brushed heavily around the lids of his closed eyes from lashes to brows and terminating in delicate points arrowing toward his temples. The only thing marring his features was a long, thin scar running diagonally down his face, from high above his right eyebrow to just below his left eye, and even that made him all the more amazing to look at.

Zell swallowed hard, feeling his cheeks start to burn and feeling grateful for the darkness of the bar area. Gods, he'd never seen other men as beautiful, but this creature--it couldn't be human-- was exquisite. He caught himself wondering how those pale lips would feel on his throat, his chest....

As if sensing Zell's discomfort, the dancer's eyes suddenly snapped open, firing a haunting, unblinking stare right through the blond. Even from across the room, Zell knew those eyes were laser-blue clouded with the color of a stormy sky. Something coiled tight in his gut like a snake, sending a heat through him that brought yet more color to his cheeks. The black-haired boy's nostrils flared briefly, his eyes narrowing and his pallid lips spreading into a faint, predatory grin. His tongue slid forth to lick his lips seductively, and Zell saw the slender, steel, ball-tipped bar through it before it retreated. To his embarrassment, Zell felt a sudden stirring in his shorts.

What the hell's wrong with you, Dincht?! You're gettin' horny just 'cause a guy is starin' at you! You don't even like guys!

Suddenly, the exotic young man pulled away from his companions, heading not towards Zell but in the opposite direction, the two other dancers tailing him quickly, almost desperately. They vanished into the shadows near the rear exit, and Zell saw the faint light from the alley shine in as the door opened long enough for the three to slip out.

Zell wondered why he felt disappointed.


The black-haired boy easily held the girl against the alley wall, his lips roaming freely over her neck as the other man ground himself impatiently against the smooth leather over his ass, his hands moving around to the front to knead the boy's inner thighs. The redhead whimpered with lust when he heard the girl gasp orgasmically, spasming as the boy's kiss became teeth buried in her slender throat. He picked her up off the ground, still holding her back to the wall as he raised his leg enough for her to straddle his thigh. She trembled, a thin, reedy wail bubbling on her lips as her head fell back and she rocked in his lap. A moment or two later she gave a soft sigh and went limp. He licked at the place he'd bitten and set her gently down on the ground before turning to the other man, the leather over his thigh shining with moisture.

"This was her first time. Thanks for helping her enjoy it," the redhead said softly, his voice echoing in the confines of the alley.

The black-haired boy smirked faintly, shrugged, and licked his lips clean before sweeping the redhead into his embrace, pinning him against the opposite wall and letting him settle over his other thigh. The man gasped as the swell in his vinyl pants rubbed hard against the powerful, leather-sheathed muscles, and he rocked into the boy even harder than their female companion had as he let his head tilt back. The black-haired boy purred softly and trailed his tongue down the exposed throat, finding what he sought and driving his sharp incisors home. The man bit back a cry, instead reaching down to unzip his own pants and tug his shaft free. The boy suckled at his neck, and the redhead moaned louder as he bucked against the boy's thigh, leaving streaks of clear liquid on the leather wherever the tip of his shaft brushed. The boy's eyes fluttered open for a moment, his blue irises shifting through violet to a deep garnet in a matter of seconds before he closed them again. The man gasped out a curse and arched forward, splashing white across the black leather of the boy's pants; the boy ripped his mouth free with an equally excited gasp, licking at a stray trickle of red dripping down from the corner of his mouth.

"Damn," the redhead murmured as the boy set him on the ground. "You always set me off so fast! Guess you gotta, though. No sense in getting caught."

The boy nodded and leaned forward to lick slowly at the spot where his teeth had broken the fair skin. The punctures healed over in a matter of moments. He glanced down at the mess on his thigh and swept most of it up with his fingers, placing them in his mouth and sucking them slowly clean.

The redhead chuckled. "You always did like dessert."

The boy's shoulders shook with soft laughter as he slid his arms around the man, leaning forward to press his lips hungrily against the man's darker ones, the man's tongue exploring his, playing with his tongue bar. When they broke apart, it was reluctantly.

"Don't worry. I'll take care of her. We'll be back tomorrow night, okay?"

The boy nodded and ruffled the man's red hair affectionately, then turned and walked out of the alley, vanishing into the night. The man tucked himself back into his pants, zipped up, and stepped over to help the girl to her feet.

"Wow...," she mumbled. "He's amazing."

"Told you," the man laughed. "And he liked you, so we'll be seeing a lot of him."

"Good." She leaned against him, resting her head on his chest. "I'm so tired."

"The first few times are pretty draining, so to speak. You'll get used to...."

He suddenly broke off with a strangled sound, and the girl looked up just in time to have her face splattered with blood from the ear-to-ear slice in the man's throat. She screamed as his eyes rolled back and he slumped out of her arms to the ground, a red pool forming a halo under his head. the figure standing behind him dropped the knife and advanced on the hysterical young woman, holding her with incredible strength.

"You...!" she gasped.

That was all she got before two sharp points buried themselves in her neck, right over the healing wounds.

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