Through the tunnels of the underground Vampire lair walked the Berserker and his human lover, heading for their private chambers. His people moved aside for him, respectfully averting their eyes; all save a handful of Purebloods who glared with deep-set hatred from the shadows on Farfarello's blind side. But Ken saw it, and worried.
They reached their room, and Farfarello shut the door firmly behind them. Ken sighed and headed for the hot tub on the other side of the room, shedding clothes as he went. He felt sweaty and grimy from the smoke and the flames, and was looking forward to his bath. As he slid into the steaming water with a sigh of relief, Farfarello strode over to their bed and picked up the outfit laid out there. Ken ducked his head underwater for a moment, then raised it and wiped water from his eyes as he watched his partner. "What's with the fancy clothes?" he called as Farfarello eyed the silk blouse and freshly pressed pants with disdain. "Is that for your meeting with the Lords from Ireland and America?"
Farfarello nodded, dropping the clothes carelessly back on the bed. "They've come all this way to claim alliance," he said in a monotone, shrugging out of his vest and unbuttoning his shirt. "Rinata says I should 'greet them properly'." He scowled darkly, and Ken knew it was not just because of the outfit. Rinata was Kil's replacement as advisor. Just the thought of Kil's betrayal infuriated Farfarello. Ken could understand; he'd been shocked and hurt himself at the Vampire's sudden change of heart. He stood up in the waist-high water, biting back a smile when Farfarello's single eye moved to watch the water drip down his chest. He held out a hand. "Better clean up before you get in those nice clothes," he pointed out casually.
Farfarello snorted, not fooled, but headed towards him, kicking off his shoes and undoing the button on his pants. Ken pushed off from the edge, floating backwards slowly and watching with a silent catch of his breath.
Finally devoid of clothing, Farfarello slid silently into the water and waded towards his lover, his golden eye lit with hunger.
Ken smiled, reaching out as Farfarello neared, and wrapped his arms around the Vampire's neck. He met the Irishman halfway, pressing his mouth to his lover's in a deep, lingering kiss that made him shiver despite the warm water.
Farfarello's hands moved down his body in possessive caresses, and Ken moaned into his mouth, entangling his legs with the other man's as Farfarello pressed him back against the side of the tub.
He gasped when Farfarello bent his head to lick the water from his chest, arching into the touch. He dug his fingers into the Vampire's short, firey hair, tugging his head up insistantly for another kiss. Farfarello chuckled against his lips, but complied. Impatient, he accused in Ken's mind, his voice like a caress in itself. Ken rolled his hips against Farfarello's, and the Vampire gasped.
"Damn right," he muttered, trailing kisses down the scarred man's face. "I almost died today, for crissakes. I thought I'd never see you again.." His voice hitched.
Farfarello pulled back slightly, to look him in the eye. His face was solemn as he cupped Ken's face in his calloused hands. "You didn't die," he said firmly. "You're fine." But Ken could sense the underlying emotions in his lover's thoughts- how frightened he had been when Schuldich had called him, and how relieved he had been to see Ken all right. To see him alive. His fury and his hatred for whoever had tried to kill him made Ken's head hurt.
"Nevermind," he mumbled quickly, running his hands up Farfarello's strong, scarred arms and putting his hands over the other man's. "Just kiss me."
Farfarello snorted softly, but leaned forward and captured Ken's mouth in a slow, leisurely kiss that made Ken's legs weak.
But soon he wriggled against the other man, silently demanding more attention, and Farfarello pulled away with a small smirk. He lowered his hands and gripped Ken's ass so suddenly the other boy yelped-- then squawked as he was lifted almost out of the water. He quickly wrapped his legs around the Vampire's waist for balance as Farfarello pressed him back into the wall once more.
Farfarello kissed him fiercely, rocking against him, and Ken moaned, fingers dragging up the man's strong back and clutching at his shoulders. Farfarello had been a gentle- almost cautious -lover when they had first gotten together after the battle against Agammedo. It had been sweet, and nice, but they were both young, with raging hormones. Ken knew Farfarello would never hurt him- so he had demanded more. And Farfarello was more than willing to comply, though he was always careful to keep his enormous strength in check.
Farfarello began sucking at Ken's neck, keeping his fangs at bay with effort; with one arm he kept Ken up, while he reached underwater with his other to find his lover's erection. Ken gasped, his head falling back. He whimpered a little when Farfarello's hand moved lower, and fingers began probing at his entrance.
Farfarello prepared him carefully, sliding first one, then two fingers inside as he widened Ken's entrance, kissing him to distract him from the discomfort. Finally Ken was moving against him, and panting into the Vampire's ear. "Farfarello," he growled. "Do it, god damn it!"
"Yes," Farfarello murmured against Ken's neck, "I am damned."
Before Ken could respond, Farfarello drove himself inside of him. He cried out, his fingers digging into Farfarello's broad shoulders. He buried his face against Farfarello's throat, gasping as his lover began to move inside, thrusting steadily harder each time.
Farfarello put his free hand against the wall by Ken to steady himself as he drove into his lover, gritting his teeth in an effort both to keep himself from getting carried away and in an attempt to muffle his groan of pleasure.
Ken, however, had no such inhibitions, and rocked back to meet him every time, gasping against the man's neck and dragging his nails across the Berserker's back. "Ahh-!" he cried as something inside him lit up in fierce pleasure. "Farfa-"
Farfarello caught his mouth in a sudden, rough kiss, and Ken's fingers tangled in rust-colored hair once more as he kissed his lover back desperately.
Farfarello was slamming into him harder than he ever had before, and in some part of his mind Ken knew it was because of his brush with death. But he wasn't about to complain. In a few hours he would probably regret it- he would definately be bitching tomorrow when he couldn't even sit down. But for now all he wanted was more, because it was Farfarello, and it felt great, and...
Farfarello's hand moved down suddenly to pull at Ken's own member, and fangs sank into his throat without warning.
Climax hit Ken with almost violent force, wracking his body with such shocking pleasure that he screamed.
His lover came seconds later, his body taunt and his lips parting to release a deep moan as Ken clung to him.
Then it was over, and they both sank bonelessly into the water, still entangled, their heads just barely out of the water.
Ken could feel Farfarello's heart thundering against his own chest as he gasped for air, face still tucked into the man's throat and arms wrapped tightly around pale shoulders. The water around them was turning pink with the blood from his neck wound, and Farfarello began to lick it lethargically, helping the holes to heal.
They floated for another ten minutes before they finally forced themselves to reluctantly untangle and get out of the tub. By the time they had dried each other off with nearby towels, the wound had stopped bleeding and Ken was starting to feel a distant ache that he knew was going to be bothering the hell out of him in just another hour or two.
Farfarello shook his head like a dog to air-dry his short hair, and Ken laughed, protesting as he dodged the flying water droplets. They dressed in the clothes laid out for them, and Ken swallowed a few painkillers that he hoped would help later. Farfarello caught him in the act and winced slightly in guilt.
Ken kissed him hastily to stop the apology he was afraid his lover would utter. "A little pain will be worth it," he said impishly, with a quirky grin to soothe the other man. "That was great."
Farfarello snorted, and turned away before Ken could figure out if that was a blush he'd just seen.
They finished dressing and left for their meeting with the foreign Lords, who had come to pay their respects to Tokyo's own fearsome Vampire Lord.
Aya was feeling rebellious.
Upon returning from his meeting with Ken, her brother had informed her that she was not to be anywhere alone, and she wasn't to let strangers into the shop if he wasn't with her. Someone would take her shopping if she wanted to go out, and she wasn't allowed to so much as cross the street without one of the assassins. Even Crawford-san had backed him up.
Aya knew they were just worried about her-- something about Vampire tensions and evil men from Schwarz's past --but it still wounded her pride. She felt restricted, and thought they were treating her unfairly. Ok, so she wasn't a big tough assassin, and she didn't have any Gifts like they did. But Farfarello had taught her how to use a knife, and she wasn't a child, after all.
So she was feeling sulky as she made lunch for her brother that afternoon. Ran sensed her resentment, but refused to budge on the matter. Until this whole thing was over with, she was always to have a bodyguard. She was rather indignant about it all.
She poured soup for herself and her brother and lined crackers up on the plates around the bowls. She brought the plates to the table with a little pout on her face as Ran brought over the cups and milk, but he pointedly avoided looking at her. He wasn't about to fall for the puppy dog eyes that usually got her what she wanted.
She sat down huffily and began crumbling the crackers into her soup. She considered bringing up the argument again, then thought better of it. "Was Farfarello at the meeting?" she asked.
Ran's mouth turned down in a dark frown. "No," he said shortly, and didn't bother to elaborate.
Aya made a face at him across the table, still crumbling up her crackers and dumping the crumbs into her soup.(1) "I'm supposed to go out with Momoko-chan and the others tonight," she reminded him.
Ran hesitated with the spoon halfway to his mouth, glancing up at her. He put the soup in his mouth and swallowed it before saying firmly, "Take Omi with you."
"O-NII-san," she protested in a wail, "hidoi! It's supposed to be just us girls! Umi had a bad breakup with her boyfriend and we're going out to get away from guys." That wasn't exactly true; they were actually going to try to find her a new boyfriend... and maybe even guys for themselves, if they were lucky. "Besides, what if one of my friends likes Omi? It's not like I can tell them 'sorry, he's got a boyfriend already'."
"Just tell them he's already taken," Ran said, unmoved. "You can say he's the chaperone."
"But he's younger than we are," she pointed out in exasperation, fiddling with the cross around her neck in an agitated gesture. "And they know it! He goes to my school, remember? We're seniors, and he's only a junior. They've seen him in the halls."(2)
Ran levelled her with a Look. "He's going," he repeated in a tone that brooked no argument.
Aya knew she had lost, so she dropped it. Her brother wasn't telling her something. Something big must have happened at the meeting; he had seemed flustered when he'd rushed inside to find her, and Crawford-san had looked a little tense as well. His eyes had had the distracted look that she'd learned meant he was talking silently to Schuldich-san. Something was up.
And she was going to find out what it was.
By pure chance Curtis Riddle had been close to Kitty's when Ken's car had gone up in flames. Hearing the explosion, he'd rushed to the scene and gaped in astonishment at the three survivors who were huddled around a buick with a crushed windshield and dented hood. It was a miracle they were alive.
Full of wrath, he looked around quickly, using the gift God had given him to pick out the person responsible for such a crime. There--
A man in a ratty trenchcoat was angrily grinding a cigarette under his heel across the street from the wreck, and his mind was full of disappointment, fear, and malice.(3) This was the man who had so cruelly tried to take the lives of.. of...
Glancing back towards the three people once more, he noticed for the first time how they were dressed. They were punks, he realized with revulsion. His time in New York with the street kids who had so rudely ignored his speeches had dressed much like them. Even the lovely woman--
The lovely woman in question scooped up the protesting skinny man who had evidentally hit the buick, and lifted him without so much as a wince. Instantly Curtis was suspicious, and investigated quickly.
Their minds were darker even than the one who had just tried to kill them. The woman and the man she was carrying were as bad as the two faggots he had just run into a little while ago- possibly worse. Even the third behind them had done horrible things. There was a glimmer in him that Curtis sensed, that was different. This one could still be saved, perhaps. But not in the company of such sinners. Such monsters.
He watched the man in the torn trenchcoat make his escape as a crowd began to gather. This man might have dirt on his soul, but perhaps he had just been trying to do what Curtis himself had come to Japan to do. Was he repenting by destroying those who mocked God, who hurt God?
Glancing once back at the three strange survivors, he began to follow the assassin. He would have to talk to this one. He would have to see if they could perhaps join forces.
He turned into the alley where the man had gone moments before, but the stranger was gone like smoke on the breeze. Baffled, Curtis stood at the alley entrance for a moment or two, looking around, but the man was nowhere to be seen.
Pinned against the wall, his mouth captured in a bruising kiss, Yohji was unable to voice a protest as his lover ground against him, hands tightening around the blond's slender wrists. He swallowed back a groan stubbornly, even as his body reacted to the other man's hips rubbing against his own.
He was still puzzling over things in his head, and still annoyed with his lover; doubly so now that Schuldich had decided to use seduction to end the conversation. There were problems to their relationship that he wanted to talk about, but Schuldich didn't want to hear it. He wanted sex. Pure, carnal, scream-inducing sex. Yohji was finding it very difficult to refuse him. As usual.
A reluctant whimper escaped his throat when Schuldich released him with one hand to slide it up Yohji's shirt, toying with his nipples. With a supreme effort, Yohji seized a fistful of fiery hair in his newly freed hand and yanked Schuldich's face back. They both gasped for air, and Schuldich's eyes were dark forest green with lust as he gazed into Yohji's face, breathing hard. He licked his swollen lips and offered a sultry smirk that made Yohji harder despite himself. He silently cursed his libido and tried to pull his other hand free. "Let me go," he ordered harshly.
Schuldich chuckled throatily. He leaned forward as if to kiss Yohji again, but winced and froze when Yohji's grip only tightened in his hair. "Stop it," Yohji snapped, panting. "Quit avoiding this issue by trying to distract me."
"What do you mean 'trying'?" Schuldich reached back and seized one of Yohji's fingers, twisting it cruelly. Yohji released his hair with a cry of pain that Schuldich swallowed an instant later, crushing his mouth to his lover's and pinning his arms above his head once more. He pressed his entire weight and strength against Yohji to keep him trapped against the wall and stop the other man's struggles. You think too much, he said impatiently for the umpteenth time.
Yohji hurled his retort with as much mental volume as he could muster. LET ME GO!
Schuldich pulled away from the kiss suddenly, his lip curling in impatient annoyance. He jerked Yohji forward, catching him off guard and making him lose his balance. Turning sharply, he shoved roughly, and Yohji landed with a grunt on the bed. Schuldich was over him a second later, intertwining his fingers with Yohji's to hold him down, practically crushing his hands in his strong grip. "This is the package, Kudou," he growled right in Yohji's startled face. "This is all you get. If you were expecting more- if you thought this relationship was going to have some kind of emotion behind it -then you're with the wrong man. Either you deal with that or this is over."
Yohji stared up at him, too surprised for a moment to respond. Anger, humiliation, and hurt swept over him a moment later, drowning out his bafflement, and he saw by the sudden stillness to Schuldich's face that he'd sensed those emotions in his blond lover. "I should have known," Yohji spat, glaring into the German's emotionless face and icy eyes. "I thought after I found out why you're so cold, that you'd try to be more human. You selfish bastard."
Schuldich laughed mirthlessly. "You found out why I'm 'so cold', did you? Enlighten me."
"We saw," Yohji snapped. "Or don't you remember? We all saw it- when you stopped being Salem. How you were a scared little punk as a kid because everyone was so mean to you- they were scared of you. And when those men took you away, and your mother was--"
Schuldich struck him a blow to the mouth with frightening speed, his eyes burning with hatred and fury. "Shut up," he snarled, standing up swiftly and glaring down at Yohji. "You don't know anything, Kudou."
Normally Yohji would have felt at least a little sorry for bringing up a subject that was obviously painful for the German to deal with. But his mouth was bleeding and he was still mad. He sat up, covering his split lip, and glared balefully at his lover. "Get out," he growled. "Just get out. In fact, do us both a favor and don't bother coming back."
Schuldich turned on his heel and marched over to the door. He snatched up his keys and his jacket and left, slamming the door behind him so hard a picture fell from the wall.
It wasn't until almost an hour later that Yohji cooled down enough to regret his words. But it was too late. Some things you just couldn't take back- especially not with someone as stubborn and cold as Schuldich.
As he sat at his kitchen table, staring numbly up at the clock and holding a compress to his swollen mouth, his head informed him that this was for the best. That a relationship with a person who wasn't ready to give away more than just their body for him wasn't right. It was better for the both of them that it was over. He knew his brain was right.
It was the ache in his chest that he couldn't stand.
(1) I used to do this with tomato soup all the time when I was a kid. ^^; I'd put so many cracker crumbs and chunks in it that it'd be more like tomato mush... lol
(2) Taking liberties with Aya's age here. -_-; Mami said she wasn't sure what her exact age was, so I'm just making her about 18 or 19.. even if she was 20, she'd have to make up for school time she missed while she was in a coma.
(3) Before ppl get confused, I think I should point out that this bomber is not the Vampire who first spotted Curtis in chapter 2 ^^;;
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