[Fic] Strays of the Night
For HP Cest Fest.
Title: Strays of the Night
Author: Belladonna Lee
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairings: James Sirius Potter/Albus Severus Potter
Rating: R
Warning: Language, non-explicit sexual content
Word Count: 3,899
Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter and its characters are not mine.
Summary: Slipping into a labyrinth of dimly lit alleys, Albus stalked a hooded figure at a steady pace. The alleys smelled of rain and rot and filth, but he focused solely on the scent of his quarry-a cool, strange scent like a sharp blade.
A/N: A sultry story on a certain rainy night. Happy Hallowe'en, everyone. Also, happy birthday. You know who you are.
Read on AO3 or below.
Strays of the Night
by Belladonna Lee
Cold rain fell in a drizzle upon the night streets, where old-fashioned lampposts spilled their light across the cobblestone pavement like liquid vice. Slipping into a labyrinth of dimly lit alleys, Albus stalked a hooded figure at a steady pace. The alleys smelled of rain and rot and filth, but he focused solely on the scent of his quarry-a cool, strange scent like a sharp blade.
The figure walked quickly as though he knew he was being followed, and he took so many twists and turns that Albus had lost his sense of direction. Pressing his lips together, he followed the scent that burnt like a blazing trail before him, taunting him. The irony behind the pursuit was not lost on him. He was always chasing after that certain someone's back-not out of admiration but out of envy and resentment and hunger. And now...
The rain fell harder, its sound drowning out every strand of thought from his head but one. His messy dark hair and thin white shirt were damp with rain, but he barely felt the chill. The entrails of this town were growing darker still, and before he knew it, he had lost sight of the shadowy figure. Cursing under his breath, he plunged further into the gloomy passages. There were noises in the dark, panting or groaning or whimpering he could not rightly tell. He ignored them and moved on.
When he caught two separate trails of the same scent leading off to wildly different directions, he stopped dead in his tracks. A pair of arms shot out in the dark and caught him from behind, ensnaring him and dragging him into an alley that came to a dead-end. A muscular body pressed up against his body, intimate and possessive as a lover.
"Well, well, look what we have here," a certain someone breathed in Albus' ear, his voice husky and low with a hint of a drawl. "Out for a nice sport of stalking in the rain?"
"I just wanted to see how you hunt," Albus said calmly. And who you hunt, he thought as he tilted his head back and bared his throat. A sliver of the murky sky peeked through between lightless buildings. Raindrops fell upon his face like a blessing from above.
Several beats of silence later, that certain someone spoke up, his tone ever so wry. "Dark alleys are dangerous places, Albus. You never know what might happen or what you might stumble upon." He reached down and fondled Albus through the trousers. "Then again, perhaps you want something to happen?"
"That might not be so bad," Albus said in half-jest, and he gasped as the fondling hand squeezed him none too gently. Only when he grabbed that certain someone's wrist did the hand loosen its hold on him. "Don't be jealous, James." He stroked the back of the hand, appeasing. "I'm not going anywhere."
"Because I can give you the best kind of nourishment?" James said sardonically. With his free hand he reached up and gripped Albus by the throat. "Will you give me what I want, little brother?" he whispered with the faintest of a growl coming from deep within his throat, a sound that sent a quiver to the pit of Albus' stomach and a thrill down his spine.
Fearing nothing, Albus clutched James' hands in an imitation of a dance-hands that could bring him comfort and drive him mad with pleasure and desire. "Anything for my big brother," he teased. "Until you are sick of it."
Not a sound could be heard in the alley but the drumming of rain. At length, James heaved a sigh and let Albus go. "Wait for me at home like a good boy." He slapped Albus' bottom ever so playfully. "I'll be back in an hour."
Narrowing his eyes, Albus turned around and faced the hooded figure in question. "I thought you would last longer than that," he murmured while tracing the contour of James' groin with his fingers. Through the fabric of the trousers, he could feel James shiver and stir. "You certainly did the other night."
A low chuckle rang out from the shadow of the hood. Without ceremony James reached out and stroked Albus' nape. "I have a younger brother to feed after all." He kissed Albus on the mouth. Albus could taste the night rain on James' lips; he could also taste his thirst, his desire, his worry. James did not want to hunt in front of him, he knew.
"Want me to bring back something for you?" James asked.
"Just bring yourself back to me with all the parts intact." Albus rested his forehead against James'. A flicker of hunger flared up inside him, but he ignored it. "I'll wait here. If you aren't back in an hour, I'll find someone else to go home with."
A beat, two beats, three beats. Even without looking, Albus knew what kind of expression James was showing right now. "Someone needs a good spanking," James said while groping Albus' backside. There was an undercurrent in his voice, something dark and dangerous lurking beneath his human veneer.
Unfazed, Albus coiled his arms around James and breathed words upon his lips. "Only when you are the one doing the spanking."
"Good." After kissing Albus some more, James pulled away and readjusted his hood to better conceal his face. "Stay out of other people's pants while I'm gone."
"Right. I'll just sit in a corner and play with myself like a good boy," Albus joked. "Or like a horny boy, I suppose?"
Beneath the shadow of the hood, dark eyes roamed over Albus' body, taking in the dripping wet hair, the translucent white shirt clinging to naked skin, and the slim fit black trousers. For one moment, Albus wanted to see the look on James' face. Was it scorn or lust, agitation or appreciation? When James reached out and pinched his nipple, Albus' idle musing fled him.
"Looking rather conspicuous, aren't we?" James drawled, his fingers tugging at Albus' erected nipple in emphasis. "Are you dressed to kill or to be killed?"
"Are you worried?" Albus asked casually, and as expected there was no reply. Wanting to pacify his terrible liar of a brother, he cupped James' cheek and ran his thumb over James' lips. "It's raining, and I feel like dressing up for the night. You like it?"
"Hmm, not bad." Reaching behind Albus, James conjured a black coat out of thin air and draped it over Albus' shoulders. "No striptease in the rain till I get back, even if you won't catch a cold."
"Don't worry. I won't start the party without you." Albus pressed a kiss upon James' lips. "Don't get caught, even if you can't die easily."
"And you'll be lonely without me?"
Clutching the coat James had conjured for him, Albus did not answer. Cold fingers glided down his damp cheek and gripped his chin; cold lips met his lips in a deep, lingering kiss. "I'll come back for you as soon as I can," James whispered.
Without another word James let go of Albus, stepped into the shadows of the alley, and vanished into the night. The urge to follow James flickered inside Albus' mind; in the next moment he snuffed out the impulse. Slipping his arms through the sleeves of the coat, Albus looked around him and found an empty beer crate by the wall.
He took out his wand, pictured a bar stool in his mind, and cast the spell. Reality shifted with a quiver: the beer crate dissolved as if melted away by the rain, and it reshaped itself into the bar stool in his vision. After putting away his wand, he perched on the stool, leant against the wall, and nuzzled the coat, which smelled like James.
Stuffing his hands in his coat pockets, he turned his face skywards and closed his eyes. The cold night rain kissed his eyelids, his face, his lips and every inch of him it could reach. It felt good being drenched, as if he were one with the rain and Albus Severus Potter ceased to exist. He opened his mouth and caught raindrops on his tongue. Somehow, the rain tasted of dust and rust.
As the sound of rain flooded his mind, the memory of another rainy night rose from the depth of his consciousness-raindrops tapping on the window; the grey half-light creeping into the flat; and James' teeth biting down hard on his neck. He remembered the pain, the confusion, the wetness on his neck, the heightened senses. Soaked to the skin and cold as the dead, James clung to him like a drowning man, and he sounded barely human as he sucked and slurped and lapped up Albus' blood.
Drained of warmth and strength and resistance, Albus was left with nothing but an icy chill in his marrow and a growing hunger for something he could not define. When James kissed him, he did not-could not-refuse. Silenced by James' lips, he tasted blood in his mouth, blood that might have been his or James' or both. Nevertheless, neither the taste of blood nor the kiss repulsed him. Instead, he found himself embracing the illusion of warmth in James' arms.
Were they broken, he wondered as he gripped James' damp shirt, his tongue tangling with James' tongue in ways that should never be between brothers. In this surreal reality of half-light and shadows, James was the only thing that felt real.
An eternity later, James broke off the kiss and pulled away, his face hidden in the shadow and his arms holding Albus still. Feeling James' eyes on him, Albus could hear nothing but rain and James' panting. Something wet landed on his cheek. Was James crying, he wondered as he stared at the figure hovering over him. He wished he could see his brother's face. Tethered to James in this unreality, he wanted to reach out and grab him by the nape and tell him-
He wiped his face with his hand and opened his eyes. In the dimness of the alley, a brick wall of psychedelic graffiti stared back at him like a vision from a fever dream. He checked the time: twenty past one. James was not back yet. His throat tingled with the memory of James' bites, countless bites from countless nights. He caressed the scars on his throat, and a pang of hunger came to him unbidden.
He should have died that night, and yet here he was, waiting and hungering for something James no longer shied away from giving him. There was something enthralling about tumbling over the edge to the other side, seeing sights he had never seen before, experiencing things he had never experienced before, breaking rules he had not broken before-and the way back was shut forever. Perhaps he was broken a long time ago, and James...
A sound reached his ear-of glass being smashed-followed by a string of curses. Alerted, he reached out with his senses and caught a faint scent coming ever closer to where he was: the smell of warm blood and alcohol and sweat. It was not James. He stroked his throat and swallowed, his hunger turning into thirst. Tilting his head back, he opened his mouth and let the rain glide down his throat, but it did little good.
Treading footsteps came around the corner and stopped dead. A bright white light danced about in the dark before falling upon Albus. Even without looking, he could smell the blood, the warmth, the liquor, the sweat, the skin musk. He felt like a wolf latching onto the scent of a prey in the woods, and in a way, he was.
He lowered his head and squinted at the glaring light. A man in a dark coat was holding up a lit smartphone and staring at him. Several inches shorter than James, the man had broad shoulders and a sturdy build. A pair of glasses framed a shaven head and a moustached face. In the pale glow of the phone torchlight, the man looked like an apparition; he looked as though he had seen an apparition. Albus smiled and gave a little wave.
"Good evening," he said in a pleasant voice. "Are you lost?"
"Er, no." The man relaxed ever so slightly and lowered his phone, his eyes roaming over Albus from head to toe. Albus let him look all he wanted. "What are you, um, doing here?"
"I'm not a ghost-in case you are wondering." Seeing the bashful look on the man's face, Albus chuckled. "I'm waiting for my boyfriend. He's busy necking someone else right now. You?"
"Just passing through," the man said vaguely. "So, your boyfriend just left you here?"
Feeling a flicker of agitation, Albus brushed back strands of damp hair that had fallen over his brow. "He likes to run off on his own. I'm used to it."
The man cast his eyes about the dreary alley: the towering walls, the sprawling graffiti, rubbish half submerged in puddles, and Albus on the bar stool. "Not what I would call a picturesque meeting place."
"I like it here. It's dark." Albus shot a glance at the man's phone, its cold light slicing through the night like a scalpel. In his mind, he pictured the primal forest in the dead of night, where unspeakable things haunted and lurked at the edge of perception. "It's like Lovers' Lane. A nice dark spot for sex and all manners of depravity."
Clutching his phone still as though it were his lifeline in the dark, the man eyed Albus up with a knowing look. "Well, there's that." A pause. "When will the boyfriend be back?"
"No idea. He doesn't have much in the way of inhibition. No one does really, not in dark alleys at this bloody hour. And that's the way I like it." Stuffing his hands in his coat pockets, Albus crossed his legs and contemplated the man's body under the coat. "He's always hungry for more, so it might take a while."
A smirk played about the man's lips. "It's not just the boyfriend you are waiting for, is it?"
Albus smiled a crooked smile. "I'll leave it to your imagination."
The man let out a chuckle and sauntered towards Albus. Torchlight glided across the alley like a searchlight, exposing filth and grime and rot. The ground glistened with wetness; rain fell like tiny glass shards. "Your boyfriend doesn't know what he's missing."
"I don't think he's missing much," Albus said airily. "We have sex practically every day. It's like we are most compatible when we are fucking or flirting." He could hear the self-deprecation in his voice.
"Lucky sod, your boyfriend." The man leant closer to Albus, his breath smelling of liquor and his warm-blooded scent coiling around Albus' thoughts. "When I first saw you, I thought I'd fallen down the rabbit hole," the man joked.
"Maybe you did," Albus said in half-jest. The man's body heat was so inviting he could not resist leaning in closer still. "Maybe this is just a dream, and I'm a part of your dream. You can do anything you want in a dream. No moral complications. No need to take responsibilities. Nothing to hold you back. What happens in a dream stays in a dream."
"And what happens in a dark alley stays in a dark alley?" the man quipped.
"It's what brought you here, isn't it?" His throat parched with thirst and his hunger purring like a feral thing, Albus flashed the man a wry grin and uncrossed his legs. "Why don't we go deeper down the rabbit hole?"
* * * * * * *
By the time the hooded figure of James came back for Albus, the rain had washed away all traces of the nameless man, and darkness had returned to the alley. Without delay Albus hopped off the bar stool and went to James, who was silent and still as though being held in thrall. The smell of copper entwined with James' scent; rain and other fluid soaked through his pitch-black clothes. Undaunted, Albus pulled off James' hood and held him close.
"Welcome back."
Albus leant forward and licked away the blood on James' cheeks, chin, lips. James said nothing and barely stirred. Was he crying, Albus wondered as he tasted the individual James had fed upon. Loneliness and desire, fear and thrill, pain and euphoria, and in the end, emptiness. He shivered. For one unsettling moment, he could not tell if the emptiness he had tasted came from James or from the one James had fed upon or from within himself.
Without a word he cradled James' head and kissed him-once, twice, thrice. Slipping his tongue into James' yielding mouth, he felt James thaw and stir awake. Arms snaked around his waist and caught him in a possessive embrace; lips crushed against his lips in a hungry kiss. His fear giving way to relief, Albus buried his fingers in James' hair and entangled his tongue with James' tongue.
When they drew apart, Albus peered at James' face for a moment before pressing a light kiss on his cheek. "Good morning. How's the hunt?"
Silence stretched in the space between them as the rain pattered on and the city droned on. Albus could feel James' eyes on him, staring, searching, lost. At length, James said, "I got what I needed." With that he gripped Albus' hand and laced their fingers together, tethering Albus to him and him to Albus. "Who's the bloke?"
"He got lost and found me here, so I showed him the way." The thought of liquor and body heat and warm blood flickered in Albus' mind, and in the next beat it was gone. "Are you angry?"
"No," James said, his voice a mere whisper. "Are you drunk?"
"A little." Albus pulled down his collar and bared his throat to James and to the night rain. There was no need for innuendos and games anymore. "Drink up."
Silence fell. Several heartbeats later, James reached behind Albus and cradled his nape, his hand warmer than usual against Albus' skin. It gave Albus a shadow of comfort-James had come back to him as promised. Without a word James leant in and nuzzled his neck, licking him, tasting him, kissing the scars that would no longer fade. A pang of hunger came to Albus; he could feel it keenly in his body. Wrapping his arms around James, he closed his eyes and let out a sigh into the night.
A kiss or two later, James sank his teeth into Albus' neck and pierced his skin. A familiar sharp sting punctured Albus' consciousness and soon dulled to a throbbing ache. Clinging to James and to reality, he listened as James sucked and gurgled and swallowed, his blood flowing into James and binding them together like an intangible red thread. The world around them dissolved into the dark. There was only him and James and the rain, incessantly falling.
James was biting him harder than usual, but Albus did not mind the pain. Perhaps it was the rain, Albus thought as he gazed blankly into the shadows. The rain was driving them a little mad, mad with hunger and need and impulses in the dark entrails of the city, away from the glare of sodium streetlights and neon signs and blue light screens.
Without a sound James eased his hold on Albus and drew away. After giving Albus' wound a thorough lick, he lifted his head and stared at Albus in a blood-addled daze. The bite mark throbbed on Albus' neck, and his hunger throbbed with it. When Albus ran his fingers over the bleeding wound, a flash of pain stirred up a tingle of thrill in him. He brought his fingers to his lips and licked his fingertips-he tasted rust and nothing more.
"How do I taste?" Albus asked.
Without a hint of self-consciousness, James licked his lips and rested a hand on Albus' crotch, as though it were the most natural thing to do. "Like rain and sex," he said. "Want your big brother to feed you now?"
Albus said nothing. Instead, he mirrored James and placed his hand on James' crotch. He could feel James' arousal mirroring his own, and James stirring in his hand while he stirred in James' hand, a loop that had neither beginning nor end. No, his instinct told him. They shouldn't dally in the alley any longer.
"James," he said while meeting James' gaze. "I want you."
James had him against the wall like a hunter pinning down a prey, hands fondling his body and lips sucking his nape, not wanting ever to let go. It was a hunt, Albus thought absently as pleasant sensations rippled inside him and a moan fell from his lips. James had caught him, and now he was claiming his reward.
He panted and craved while James shook him from behind with every thrust. His palms scraped against the rough brick wall, and his body growing numb from the rain-rain seeping into his body while James was holding him, fucking him, panting with him. It was almost like a threesome, he thought. His eyelids fluttering shut of their own accord, he tilted his head back and let James catch his fall.
Stay with me, James had said to him on the rainy night when they crossed more than one line in each other's arms. James had kept him here-with his words, with his kiss, with his body, with his blood, with his affection-and he had stayed, like some revenant with unfinished business.
(And he had kept James here with him.)
Fine rain fell like dust from the smoky overcast sky, rain so fine Albus could barely feel it on his skin. His hair fell messily across his forehead and over his eyes, dripping wet. His body tingled with satiation and the afterglow of sex, while his hunger lay dormant like a sleeping animal in the woods. Ever so slowly he let out a breath and gazed at James, his brother, lover, and partner in crime.
After retrieving the coat that lay crumpled on the ground, James shook it out, turned it over, and shook it out again. When he draped it over Albus' shoulders, it was warm and dry and clean. Always the bright one, this brother of his. Albus lingered over the warmth for several heartbeats and put on the coat.
"We should go," James said.
"Yeah, we couldn't afford to get caught."
A hush hovered over them like a premonition. Without ceremony James reached out and caught Albus in his arms, pulling him in. The scent that was uniquely James' twined around Albus, enticing him, enveloping him, seeping into him. It tasted like happiness; it tasted like a curse. He rested his head on James' shoulder and closed his eyes. He knew what to do if they ever got caught.
When he felt James' arms tighten around him, he collected his thoughts and opened his eyes. The dark stared back at him-and he was not afraid. This was his domain, his and James' domain. Without further ado he cradled James' nape with his hand, took out his wand, and said, "Let's go home."
* * * * * * *
Finis.
A/N: This story was inspired by Mili's "Ame to Taieki to Nioi", a song about a certain sultry, rainy night.
For the record, I'm including the rest of my playlist here. There are quite a few rainy songs on the list.
Mili - Ame to Taieki to Nioi
MELL - Sayonara wo Oshiete -comment te dire adieu-
YuNA x Sentive - Jubaku
lasah - 1945
Buck-Tick - Misshitsu
Buck-Tick - Yougetsu (single version)
Buck-Tick - Zangai
Buck-Tick - Yasou
Sakurai Atsushi - Hallelujah!
Sakurai Atsushi - Explosion
The Mortal - Tenshi
The Mortal - PAIN DROP -It rains cats & dogs
DIR EN GREY - Phenomenon
Priscilla Chan - 飄 ("Float")
Faye Wong - 色誡 ("Sex Commandments")
Faye Wong - 情誡 ("Love Commandments")
Faye Wong - 掃興 ("Spoilsport")
Faye Wong - 不留 ("Leave Nothing")
Tokyo Jihen - Okonomide (Electric Mole live version)
Tokyo Jihen - la salle de bain (Fuji Rock '04 live version)
Tokyo Jihen - Blackout
Suilen - Hiruma
Suilen - Keitou
Suilen - spine
Title: Strays of the Night
Author: Belladonna Lee
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairings: James Sirius Potter/Albus Severus Potter
Rating: R
Warning: Language, non-explicit sexual content
Word Count: 3,899
Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter and its characters are not mine.
Summary: Slipping into a labyrinth of dimly lit alleys, Albus stalked a hooded figure at a steady pace. The alleys smelled of rain and rot and filth, but he focused solely on the scent of his quarry-a cool, strange scent like a sharp blade.
A/N: A sultry story on a certain rainy night. Happy Hallowe'en, everyone. Also, happy birthday. You know who you are.
Read on AO3 or below.
Strays of the Night
by Belladonna Lee
Cold rain fell in a drizzle upon the night streets, where old-fashioned lampposts spilled their light across the cobblestone pavement like liquid vice. Slipping into a labyrinth of dimly lit alleys, Albus stalked a hooded figure at a steady pace. The alleys smelled of rain and rot and filth, but he focused solely on the scent of his quarry-a cool, strange scent like a sharp blade.
The figure walked quickly as though he knew he was being followed, and he took so many twists and turns that Albus had lost his sense of direction. Pressing his lips together, he followed the scent that burnt like a blazing trail before him, taunting him. The irony behind the pursuit was not lost on him. He was always chasing after that certain someone's back-not out of admiration but out of envy and resentment and hunger. And now...
The rain fell harder, its sound drowning out every strand of thought from his head but one. His messy dark hair and thin white shirt were damp with rain, but he barely felt the chill. The entrails of this town were growing darker still, and before he knew it, he had lost sight of the shadowy figure. Cursing under his breath, he plunged further into the gloomy passages. There were noises in the dark, panting or groaning or whimpering he could not rightly tell. He ignored them and moved on.
When he caught two separate trails of the same scent leading off to wildly different directions, he stopped dead in his tracks. A pair of arms shot out in the dark and caught him from behind, ensnaring him and dragging him into an alley that came to a dead-end. A muscular body pressed up against his body, intimate and possessive as a lover.
"Well, well, look what we have here," a certain someone breathed in Albus' ear, his voice husky and low with a hint of a drawl. "Out for a nice sport of stalking in the rain?"
"I just wanted to see how you hunt," Albus said calmly. And who you hunt, he thought as he tilted his head back and bared his throat. A sliver of the murky sky peeked through between lightless buildings. Raindrops fell upon his face like a blessing from above.
Several beats of silence later, that certain someone spoke up, his tone ever so wry. "Dark alleys are dangerous places, Albus. You never know what might happen or what you might stumble upon." He reached down and fondled Albus through the trousers. "Then again, perhaps you want something to happen?"
"That might not be so bad," Albus said in half-jest, and he gasped as the fondling hand squeezed him none too gently. Only when he grabbed that certain someone's wrist did the hand loosen its hold on him. "Don't be jealous, James." He stroked the back of the hand, appeasing. "I'm not going anywhere."
"Because I can give you the best kind of nourishment?" James said sardonically. With his free hand he reached up and gripped Albus by the throat. "Will you give me what I want, little brother?" he whispered with the faintest of a growl coming from deep within his throat, a sound that sent a quiver to the pit of Albus' stomach and a thrill down his spine.
Fearing nothing, Albus clutched James' hands in an imitation of a dance-hands that could bring him comfort and drive him mad with pleasure and desire. "Anything for my big brother," he teased. "Until you are sick of it."
Not a sound could be heard in the alley but the drumming of rain. At length, James heaved a sigh and let Albus go. "Wait for me at home like a good boy." He slapped Albus' bottom ever so playfully. "I'll be back in an hour."
Narrowing his eyes, Albus turned around and faced the hooded figure in question. "I thought you would last longer than that," he murmured while tracing the contour of James' groin with his fingers. Through the fabric of the trousers, he could feel James shiver and stir. "You certainly did the other night."
A low chuckle rang out from the shadow of the hood. Without ceremony James reached out and stroked Albus' nape. "I have a younger brother to feed after all." He kissed Albus on the mouth. Albus could taste the night rain on James' lips; he could also taste his thirst, his desire, his worry. James did not want to hunt in front of him, he knew.
"Want me to bring back something for you?" James asked.
"Just bring yourself back to me with all the parts intact." Albus rested his forehead against James'. A flicker of hunger flared up inside him, but he ignored it. "I'll wait here. If you aren't back in an hour, I'll find someone else to go home with."
A beat, two beats, three beats. Even without looking, Albus knew what kind of expression James was showing right now. "Someone needs a good spanking," James said while groping Albus' backside. There was an undercurrent in his voice, something dark and dangerous lurking beneath his human veneer.
Unfazed, Albus coiled his arms around James and breathed words upon his lips. "Only when you are the one doing the spanking."
"Good." After kissing Albus some more, James pulled away and readjusted his hood to better conceal his face. "Stay out of other people's pants while I'm gone."
"Right. I'll just sit in a corner and play with myself like a good boy," Albus joked. "Or like a horny boy, I suppose?"
Beneath the shadow of the hood, dark eyes roamed over Albus' body, taking in the dripping wet hair, the translucent white shirt clinging to naked skin, and the slim fit black trousers. For one moment, Albus wanted to see the look on James' face. Was it scorn or lust, agitation or appreciation? When James reached out and pinched his nipple, Albus' idle musing fled him.
"Looking rather conspicuous, aren't we?" James drawled, his fingers tugging at Albus' erected nipple in emphasis. "Are you dressed to kill or to be killed?"
"Are you worried?" Albus asked casually, and as expected there was no reply. Wanting to pacify his terrible liar of a brother, he cupped James' cheek and ran his thumb over James' lips. "It's raining, and I feel like dressing up for the night. You like it?"
"Hmm, not bad." Reaching behind Albus, James conjured a black coat out of thin air and draped it over Albus' shoulders. "No striptease in the rain till I get back, even if you won't catch a cold."
"Don't worry. I won't start the party without you." Albus pressed a kiss upon James' lips. "Don't get caught, even if you can't die easily."
"And you'll be lonely without me?"
Clutching the coat James had conjured for him, Albus did not answer. Cold fingers glided down his damp cheek and gripped his chin; cold lips met his lips in a deep, lingering kiss. "I'll come back for you as soon as I can," James whispered.
Without another word James let go of Albus, stepped into the shadows of the alley, and vanished into the night. The urge to follow James flickered inside Albus' mind; in the next moment he snuffed out the impulse. Slipping his arms through the sleeves of the coat, Albus looked around him and found an empty beer crate by the wall.
He took out his wand, pictured a bar stool in his mind, and cast the spell. Reality shifted with a quiver: the beer crate dissolved as if melted away by the rain, and it reshaped itself into the bar stool in his vision. After putting away his wand, he perched on the stool, leant against the wall, and nuzzled the coat, which smelled like James.
Stuffing his hands in his coat pockets, he turned his face skywards and closed his eyes. The cold night rain kissed his eyelids, his face, his lips and every inch of him it could reach. It felt good being drenched, as if he were one with the rain and Albus Severus Potter ceased to exist. He opened his mouth and caught raindrops on his tongue. Somehow, the rain tasted of dust and rust.
As the sound of rain flooded his mind, the memory of another rainy night rose from the depth of his consciousness-raindrops tapping on the window; the grey half-light creeping into the flat; and James' teeth biting down hard on his neck. He remembered the pain, the confusion, the wetness on his neck, the heightened senses. Soaked to the skin and cold as the dead, James clung to him like a drowning man, and he sounded barely human as he sucked and slurped and lapped up Albus' blood.
Drained of warmth and strength and resistance, Albus was left with nothing but an icy chill in his marrow and a growing hunger for something he could not define. When James kissed him, he did not-could not-refuse. Silenced by James' lips, he tasted blood in his mouth, blood that might have been his or James' or both. Nevertheless, neither the taste of blood nor the kiss repulsed him. Instead, he found himself embracing the illusion of warmth in James' arms.
Were they broken, he wondered as he gripped James' damp shirt, his tongue tangling with James' tongue in ways that should never be between brothers. In this surreal reality of half-light and shadows, James was the only thing that felt real.
An eternity later, James broke off the kiss and pulled away, his face hidden in the shadow and his arms holding Albus still. Feeling James' eyes on him, Albus could hear nothing but rain and James' panting. Something wet landed on his cheek. Was James crying, he wondered as he stared at the figure hovering over him. He wished he could see his brother's face. Tethered to James in this unreality, he wanted to reach out and grab him by the nape and tell him-
He wiped his face with his hand and opened his eyes. In the dimness of the alley, a brick wall of psychedelic graffiti stared back at him like a vision from a fever dream. He checked the time: twenty past one. James was not back yet. His throat tingled with the memory of James' bites, countless bites from countless nights. He caressed the scars on his throat, and a pang of hunger came to him unbidden.
He should have died that night, and yet here he was, waiting and hungering for something James no longer shied away from giving him. There was something enthralling about tumbling over the edge to the other side, seeing sights he had never seen before, experiencing things he had never experienced before, breaking rules he had not broken before-and the way back was shut forever. Perhaps he was broken a long time ago, and James...
A sound reached his ear-of glass being smashed-followed by a string of curses. Alerted, he reached out with his senses and caught a faint scent coming ever closer to where he was: the smell of warm blood and alcohol and sweat. It was not James. He stroked his throat and swallowed, his hunger turning into thirst. Tilting his head back, he opened his mouth and let the rain glide down his throat, but it did little good.
Treading footsteps came around the corner and stopped dead. A bright white light danced about in the dark before falling upon Albus. Even without looking, he could smell the blood, the warmth, the liquor, the sweat, the skin musk. He felt like a wolf latching onto the scent of a prey in the woods, and in a way, he was.
He lowered his head and squinted at the glaring light. A man in a dark coat was holding up a lit smartphone and staring at him. Several inches shorter than James, the man had broad shoulders and a sturdy build. A pair of glasses framed a shaven head and a moustached face. In the pale glow of the phone torchlight, the man looked like an apparition; he looked as though he had seen an apparition. Albus smiled and gave a little wave.
"Good evening," he said in a pleasant voice. "Are you lost?"
"Er, no." The man relaxed ever so slightly and lowered his phone, his eyes roaming over Albus from head to toe. Albus let him look all he wanted. "What are you, um, doing here?"
"I'm not a ghost-in case you are wondering." Seeing the bashful look on the man's face, Albus chuckled. "I'm waiting for my boyfriend. He's busy necking someone else right now. You?"
"Just passing through," the man said vaguely. "So, your boyfriend just left you here?"
Feeling a flicker of agitation, Albus brushed back strands of damp hair that had fallen over his brow. "He likes to run off on his own. I'm used to it."
The man cast his eyes about the dreary alley: the towering walls, the sprawling graffiti, rubbish half submerged in puddles, and Albus on the bar stool. "Not what I would call a picturesque meeting place."
"I like it here. It's dark." Albus shot a glance at the man's phone, its cold light slicing through the night like a scalpel. In his mind, he pictured the primal forest in the dead of night, where unspeakable things haunted and lurked at the edge of perception. "It's like Lovers' Lane. A nice dark spot for sex and all manners of depravity."
Clutching his phone still as though it were his lifeline in the dark, the man eyed Albus up with a knowing look. "Well, there's that." A pause. "When will the boyfriend be back?"
"No idea. He doesn't have much in the way of inhibition. No one does really, not in dark alleys at this bloody hour. And that's the way I like it." Stuffing his hands in his coat pockets, Albus crossed his legs and contemplated the man's body under the coat. "He's always hungry for more, so it might take a while."
A smirk played about the man's lips. "It's not just the boyfriend you are waiting for, is it?"
Albus smiled a crooked smile. "I'll leave it to your imagination."
The man let out a chuckle and sauntered towards Albus. Torchlight glided across the alley like a searchlight, exposing filth and grime and rot. The ground glistened with wetness; rain fell like tiny glass shards. "Your boyfriend doesn't know what he's missing."
"I don't think he's missing much," Albus said airily. "We have sex practically every day. It's like we are most compatible when we are fucking or flirting." He could hear the self-deprecation in his voice.
"Lucky sod, your boyfriend." The man leant closer to Albus, his breath smelling of liquor and his warm-blooded scent coiling around Albus' thoughts. "When I first saw you, I thought I'd fallen down the rabbit hole," the man joked.
"Maybe you did," Albus said in half-jest. The man's body heat was so inviting he could not resist leaning in closer still. "Maybe this is just a dream, and I'm a part of your dream. You can do anything you want in a dream. No moral complications. No need to take responsibilities. Nothing to hold you back. What happens in a dream stays in a dream."
"And what happens in a dark alley stays in a dark alley?" the man quipped.
"It's what brought you here, isn't it?" His throat parched with thirst and his hunger purring like a feral thing, Albus flashed the man a wry grin and uncrossed his legs. "Why don't we go deeper down the rabbit hole?"
* * * * * * *
By the time the hooded figure of James came back for Albus, the rain had washed away all traces of the nameless man, and darkness had returned to the alley. Without delay Albus hopped off the bar stool and went to James, who was silent and still as though being held in thrall. The smell of copper entwined with James' scent; rain and other fluid soaked through his pitch-black clothes. Undaunted, Albus pulled off James' hood and held him close.
"Welcome back."
Albus leant forward and licked away the blood on James' cheeks, chin, lips. James said nothing and barely stirred. Was he crying, Albus wondered as he tasted the individual James had fed upon. Loneliness and desire, fear and thrill, pain and euphoria, and in the end, emptiness. He shivered. For one unsettling moment, he could not tell if the emptiness he had tasted came from James or from the one James had fed upon or from within himself.
Without a word he cradled James' head and kissed him-once, twice, thrice. Slipping his tongue into James' yielding mouth, he felt James thaw and stir awake. Arms snaked around his waist and caught him in a possessive embrace; lips crushed against his lips in a hungry kiss. His fear giving way to relief, Albus buried his fingers in James' hair and entangled his tongue with James' tongue.
When they drew apart, Albus peered at James' face for a moment before pressing a light kiss on his cheek. "Good morning. How's the hunt?"
Silence stretched in the space between them as the rain pattered on and the city droned on. Albus could feel James' eyes on him, staring, searching, lost. At length, James said, "I got what I needed." With that he gripped Albus' hand and laced their fingers together, tethering Albus to him and him to Albus. "Who's the bloke?"
"He got lost and found me here, so I showed him the way." The thought of liquor and body heat and warm blood flickered in Albus' mind, and in the next beat it was gone. "Are you angry?"
"No," James said, his voice a mere whisper. "Are you drunk?"
"A little." Albus pulled down his collar and bared his throat to James and to the night rain. There was no need for innuendos and games anymore. "Drink up."
Silence fell. Several heartbeats later, James reached behind Albus and cradled his nape, his hand warmer than usual against Albus' skin. It gave Albus a shadow of comfort-James had come back to him as promised. Without a word James leant in and nuzzled his neck, licking him, tasting him, kissing the scars that would no longer fade. A pang of hunger came to Albus; he could feel it keenly in his body. Wrapping his arms around James, he closed his eyes and let out a sigh into the night.
A kiss or two later, James sank his teeth into Albus' neck and pierced his skin. A familiar sharp sting punctured Albus' consciousness and soon dulled to a throbbing ache. Clinging to James and to reality, he listened as James sucked and gurgled and swallowed, his blood flowing into James and binding them together like an intangible red thread. The world around them dissolved into the dark. There was only him and James and the rain, incessantly falling.
James was biting him harder than usual, but Albus did not mind the pain. Perhaps it was the rain, Albus thought as he gazed blankly into the shadows. The rain was driving them a little mad, mad with hunger and need and impulses in the dark entrails of the city, away from the glare of sodium streetlights and neon signs and blue light screens.
Without a sound James eased his hold on Albus and drew away. After giving Albus' wound a thorough lick, he lifted his head and stared at Albus in a blood-addled daze. The bite mark throbbed on Albus' neck, and his hunger throbbed with it. When Albus ran his fingers over the bleeding wound, a flash of pain stirred up a tingle of thrill in him. He brought his fingers to his lips and licked his fingertips-he tasted rust and nothing more.
"How do I taste?" Albus asked.
Without a hint of self-consciousness, James licked his lips and rested a hand on Albus' crotch, as though it were the most natural thing to do. "Like rain and sex," he said. "Want your big brother to feed you now?"
Albus said nothing. Instead, he mirrored James and placed his hand on James' crotch. He could feel James' arousal mirroring his own, and James stirring in his hand while he stirred in James' hand, a loop that had neither beginning nor end. No, his instinct told him. They shouldn't dally in the alley any longer.
"James," he said while meeting James' gaze. "I want you."
James had him against the wall like a hunter pinning down a prey, hands fondling his body and lips sucking his nape, not wanting ever to let go. It was a hunt, Albus thought absently as pleasant sensations rippled inside him and a moan fell from his lips. James had caught him, and now he was claiming his reward.
He panted and craved while James shook him from behind with every thrust. His palms scraped against the rough brick wall, and his body growing numb from the rain-rain seeping into his body while James was holding him, fucking him, panting with him. It was almost like a threesome, he thought. His eyelids fluttering shut of their own accord, he tilted his head back and let James catch his fall.
Stay with me, James had said to him on the rainy night when they crossed more than one line in each other's arms. James had kept him here-with his words, with his kiss, with his body, with his blood, with his affection-and he had stayed, like some revenant with unfinished business.
(And he had kept James here with him.)
Fine rain fell like dust from the smoky overcast sky, rain so fine Albus could barely feel it on his skin. His hair fell messily across his forehead and over his eyes, dripping wet. His body tingled with satiation and the afterglow of sex, while his hunger lay dormant like a sleeping animal in the woods. Ever so slowly he let out a breath and gazed at James, his brother, lover, and partner in crime.
After retrieving the coat that lay crumpled on the ground, James shook it out, turned it over, and shook it out again. When he draped it over Albus' shoulders, it was warm and dry and clean. Always the bright one, this brother of his. Albus lingered over the warmth for several heartbeats and put on the coat.
"We should go," James said.
"Yeah, we couldn't afford to get caught."
A hush hovered over them like a premonition. Without ceremony James reached out and caught Albus in his arms, pulling him in. The scent that was uniquely James' twined around Albus, enticing him, enveloping him, seeping into him. It tasted like happiness; it tasted like a curse. He rested his head on James' shoulder and closed his eyes. He knew what to do if they ever got caught.
When he felt James' arms tighten around him, he collected his thoughts and opened his eyes. The dark stared back at him-and he was not afraid. This was his domain, his and James' domain. Without further ado he cradled James' nape with his hand, took out his wand, and said, "Let's go home."
* * * * * * *
Finis.
A/N: This story was inspired by Mili's "Ame to Taieki to Nioi", a song about a certain sultry, rainy night.
For the record, I'm including the rest of my playlist here. There are quite a few rainy songs on the list.
Mili - Ame to Taieki to Nioi
MELL - Sayonara wo Oshiete -comment te dire adieu-
YuNA x Sentive - Jubaku
lasah - 1945
Buck-Tick - Misshitsu
Buck-Tick - Yougetsu (single version)
Buck-Tick - Zangai
Buck-Tick - Yasou
Sakurai Atsushi - Hallelujah!
Sakurai Atsushi - Explosion
The Mortal - Tenshi
The Mortal - PAIN DROP -It rains cats & dogs
DIR EN GREY - Phenomenon
Priscilla Chan - 飄 ("Float")
Faye Wong - 色誡 ("Sex Commandments")
Faye Wong - 情誡 ("Love Commandments")
Faye Wong - 掃興 ("Spoilsport")
Faye Wong - 不留 ("Leave Nothing")
Tokyo Jihen - Okonomide (Electric Mole live version)
Tokyo Jihen - la salle de bain (Fuji Rock '04 live version)
Tokyo Jihen - Blackout
Suilen - Hiruma
Suilen - Keitou
Suilen - spine