Pet Shop of Horrors Beach Party
No, not really. I don't know that I could call 2 people a party....maybe for them
Title: "D Is For De Lorean"
Rating: R, NC-17, Mature, not child friendly in any way shape or form.
Pairing: Leon Orcot x Count D (I'm never going to surprise you until I do a Pon-chan X Jill, hmmm?)
Warnings: None. No one forgets anything in this one. No one dies, drowns or gets sun-burned, either.
Dedications: The kind souls (you know who you are) who read my last one and commented. My plothamsters really like you. Also to the several people in this comm who write such excellent fic that they inspire others..thank you for existing. You make me happy.)
Also, this was going to be a 100 word drabble...I think I lost my focus somewhere. Word Count:2881
Well, here goes...Do you like cars? If so, did the one I describe ever exist?
“D” is For De Lorean
Leon pried open the passenger-side gull-wing hatch and ushered the Count into the shining silver car with a flourish.
“Are you sure this is alright, Detective?” the Count inquired, eyebrows raised in further surprise at the sight of the fine leather and sleek interior.
The Count had been quite taken aback when Leon arrived earlier in the stainless steel sports car. He wasn’t particularly fond of cars; they made him somewhat seasick and claustrophobic. He got in gracefully, though, pulling the hem of his silk dress in after him like an old lady. Leon leaned across and buckled him in, inhaling that faint familiar scent that mixed with the smell of the leather.
“Yup. Absolutely positive, in fact. My baby here is the Euro-spec DMC-12, Wooler Hodec right-hand drive, turbo-charged De Lorean, D, courtesy of that drug dealer we busted. It checked out clean and it’s going up for auction soon, so I thought I’d take the opportunity to give you a little spin around the block in a nice car…for a change.”
“Why, thank you, Detective, for thinking of me,” The Count smiled sweetly, recalling the image of a lavender-point Siamese cat presented with a bowl of clotted cream.
“Hey, thank my Boss - he let me have it.” Leon, happy and feeling like he’d done good, got in himself, relishing the faint swoosh of the gull-wing locking into place. He placed the bar of chocolate (imported Belgian, natch) within easy reach of the elegant man beside him. D smiled again at the kindness.
Silence reigned for a few minutes, as Leon concentrating on navigating the car out of Chinatown and onto the highway. The right-hand drive was difficult to manage in the crowded city streets. Leon had always head the knack for driving just about any vehicle though and he eased into it soon enough. A half-hour later they were Highway 1, headed south to Point Mugu, and Leon relaxed, ever so gradually giving the Porche stallion under the stainless shell its head. D lay back in the comfort of the grey leather seat, enjoying the changing view and nibbling on his chocolate. They chatted aimlessly and pleasantly as they drove and a feeling of contentment settled over the car.
Leon paid more attention as they traveled through the Park. He had a packed gourmet lunch in the back seat and the weather was beautiful, perfect for the picnic he’d planned to present the slender gentleman by his side. He knew a place right near Mugu Rock where they could get off the highway and eat lunch.
The De Lorean had been purring along at just below 100 mph. Leon reined it in and slowed down to find a parking place near the little public beach. There were people, mostly surfers, but not too many. In a few minutes they were settling down on a blanket, the beach umbrella that Leon thoughtfully rented shielding them from the constant ocean breeze and blazing afternoon sun.
The Count laid out Leon’s little feast, delighting at the brioche, Caesar salad and fruit kebabs Orcott had brought for him. He poured iced green tea into plastic glasses while Leon bit into a Dagwood roast beef sandwich with gusto. In a little while, they were replete, mutually agreeing to save the petit fours and baked cheesecake for later. They each lay back, drowsing in the sun, soothed by the wash of the surf.
“Detective?” D’s voice cut through the little bubble of peace surrounding Leon.
“Hmm?” He’d pulled his baseball cap down over his eyes. The Count saw his lashes move.
“I know you are awake, Detective,” the Count reprimanded, laughter in his tone. Leon opened his eyes all the way.
“What?”
“I must ask…to what do I owe this pleasure, Detective? I assume you must have some reason for including me in this delightful outing?” D’s voice was expectant, teasing, but it sent a tiny shock of anger through Leon all the same.
“What the fuck, D? You think I want something?” Leon sat up and ripped his cap off his head, slamming it into the sand. The anger was followed by a rush of guilt, although he’d done nothing wrong.
“Now, now, Detective, I never said-“ The Count realized his mistake and attempted a little backpedaling. He spread out his hands in a conciliatory fashion. Leon eyed D’s placating stance and decided eventually that it was fair question. How was D to know this was a date? He probably had no idea.
“Shit, D. Would you stop calling me “Detective” already? You know my goddamned name - use it once in a while.” He looked over at the Count, squinting against the sun. The Count pursed his red lips in an encouraging smile but made no promises. Leon sighed with slight exasperation and continued.
“Look, it’s a nice day, I’ve got this great car and well, I kinda thought you could use a break, you know?”
“Ahh, I see…That was most thoughtful of you, De-Leon.”
D had wondered why Leon had picked Chris up so early this morning. He never suspected it was so they could have this--this outing. He’d even been a little annoyed, wondering why Leon hadn’t asked him to join them. D smiled ruefully at himself, wondering at his growing susceptibility to such childish emotions. It must be Leon, rubbing off.
“So, do you get it now, Count?” Leon raised his hands and spread them open. “Look, nothing up my sleeve.” D chuckled and after a minute, Leon joined him, edging closer in the camaraderie of their shared laughter. Their eyes met…and held.
The laughter died gently but neither looked away. Leon leaned forward slowly across the blanket, resting his weight on his hands. D watched him carefully; his own movement forward so slow as to be imperceptible. Their lips brushed and then clung, and neither dared breathe. The Count opened his mouth and Leon slipped in, tongue swirling over perfect teeth, the salt on his lips giving the Count a taste of the ocean. D wrapped his own tongue around Leon’s, and turned deeper into the kiss. The constant wind, the glare of the sun, the faint sound of tourists - all faded into the distance and the world contained only the two of them.
Then D issued a strange humming little moan and Leon startled at the noise, unconsciously drawing back. They broke apart, greatly embarrassed, each looking away, the Count to track a gull’s flight, Leon to gaze at the ocean, tinged scarlet and gold now with the beams of the late afternoon sun. D clasped his knees, curling into himself and Leon trickled sand through his fingers and silently cursed his luck.
“Ahem.”
After what seemed like ages, the Count cleared his throat. Leon swung round to look at him, hopeful.
“I believe we should be leaving, Detective.” The Count said, in an even tone that betrayed no emotion. “Chris will need his dinner soon and it grows late. I must return to my Shop.” The expression on D’s face was hard to read. He seemed perfectly composed but Leon saw that his lips trembled.
“No.”
The little tremble was the give-away. He was damned well going to nail this.
“No?” the Count’s soft voice faltered a little as he repeated it back. Confusion masked his features and he brought a long-nailed hand up to cover his mouth.
“No! Chris is fine and you fed everybody before we left. They can stand the wait. I can’t.”
With determination Leon reached out and captured the slim hand D was trying to hide behind. He kissed the palm with slow deliberation, licking the delicate places between each thin finger, and then looked up intently. There was a fine tremor throughout D’s whole body now, and the amethyst eye Leon could see was wide and startled. But the Count didn’t back away. Leon moved forward, scooting closer till D had to look up. Their mouths met once again and D involuntarily made a small sound of hunger deep in his throat. Leon ran rough hands up his silk tunic and started unbuttoning, moving from D’s willing lips to dot kisses along his brow, his ear, the hollow of his breastbone.
The sun was setting and the last of the surfers headed up the beach in the other direction, their laughter washed away by the surf. Leon and D were forgotten by the world. Even the umbrella man had given up and left. This was a good thing because the umbrella only hid so much.
The Count lay sprawled on the beach blanket, his skinny black silk trousers half off, exposing a long slim leg and his taut abdomen. He was erect and straining, tense with pleasure, dripping a little as Leon licked him. His nails ruffled blonde hair nervously and then scraped down Leon’s bare back, and he clutched the waistband of the detective’s jeans with desperate intent. Leon helped him, frantically unzipping, shucking down his worn denims in a frenzy, his mouth never leaving D’s cock. Then skin met skin as Leon trickled wet kisses up D’s thighs and belly, ribcage and chest, stopping only worship D’s nipples, rosy and tight as raspberries. D thrashed when Leon suckled one pink bud hard and manic hands yanked his ardent lover closer. Their lips met again and again, till Leon thought he would cum from just that…and the feel of D’s penis thrusting blindly into his thigh.
Leon attempted to prepare him, his damp fingers skittering down D’s thigh and in between the silky smooth cheeks of his ass. He rubbed the tight circle softly and then dipped in, shoving his tongue down D’s throat to stifle D’s groan.
“Nnn!”
The Count was inarticulate, spreading himself open to the invasion of Leon’s fingers, a thin trail of tears seeping from each closed eye. Leon kissed them away and continued, so hard himself that it took every unfried brain cell to stop himself from impaling D right then and there.
“Ah! Ah! Ohhh! Le…on!”
D came suddenly, his cum spurting out in a thick creamy stream, pearling on Leon’s chest hair and dampening his belly. D’s ass clenched, and Leon found the magic spot within, his unschooled touch causing D to go limp with pleasure, lavender and gold eyes staring unseeingly at some Nirvana unperceived by mortal man. He hardened again quickly as Leon stroked him with one hand, his other fingers still flexing within. Recovering from his ‘little death’, D gazed fondly up at the man caressing him and ran a questing hand down the line of Leon’s jaw. He drew Leon closer, capturing his hands, and kissed him, softly, sweetly, till Leon would have sold his soul to any passing devil, if only it would make D his.
D raised his leg, muscles trembling with the effort, and opened himself wider, one slim hand going to grasp Leon’s swollen cock. He guided it down his pale belly, the tip slithering damply across smooth skin, till it rested at his entry. Leon stared entranced at the sight of them, nearly together, and then cried out at D’s sudden thrust forward. He was in, surging forward in a hot tight channel. It was heaven, pure delight, like nothing he’d ever known. The sensation nearly made him lose it and cum like a schoolboy at a whorehouse. He sucked in his breath and continued the movement, while D glided his hips toward him, welcoming him in.
“Leon!”
Leon looked up at the Count and marveled at the beauty of his glittering eyes, the pale face flushed with passion. He pulled back and the Count gasped and lolled his head back, his long white throat exposed. Leon came closer and thrust into D a little harder, tickling that inviting neck with the tip of his tongue. The Count grasped his shoulders and clung, nails digging in as Leon upped the pace, his cock slamming harder and faster.
Leon stopped breathing at one point; he couldn’t do that and still manage to hold back. He wanted D to cum with him and the Count was nearly there, but not quite. Leon latched onto a nipple that was inviting close to his mouth, his back curved as he hunched over the Count. He tongued it and teased it with his teeth, slippery fingers twisting the other one gently. D arched convulsively and cried out, hammering his pelvis frantically against Leon’s.
“Le..on! Leon! Leee....onn!”
They came together, or so close as to be together, and Leon nearly passed out, collapsed on the Count’s shaking body. Still connected, they rolled over, Leon scraping his shoulder on the edge of the cooler. He pulled their rumpled clothes over them for warmth, as the evening breeze was brisk against his cooling body, and cuddled the Count against him, seeking warmth. He was smiling as he fell into a deep hard sleep, so astoundingly content he amazed himself.
“Leon?”
A huge moon, so close one could touch it, was shining on them brightly when the detective woke. He was shivering, empty arms wrapped around himself. The edge of the blanket was draped across him, along with his jeans, T-shirt and flannel. He peered across at the Count, who sat on the cooler, fully clothed.
“D? What’s wrong?”
Leon stumbled up, the clothes falling unheeded, and made his to kneel before D. The Count’s face was far from smiling-he seemed unbearably sad, and Leon couldn’t stand it.
“D! Tell me what’s wrong! Did I hurt you? Are you ok?” Leon touched the Count’s downcast cheek, willing him to talk.
“Leon….well…perhaps we have made…a mistake.” The words came unwillingly. The Count stared back at Leon, just as earnestly, resting his cheek against Leon’s warm palm. There was no anger in his eyes, no disgust, only sadness so deep Leon wanted to cry in sympathy.
“Mistake? Us? No-no! D, you can’t say that. I won’t let you, damn it!”
“But, Leon-“ D sighed deeply and brought a hand up to lay against Leon’s. He shook his head and started to speak. Leon forestalled him, sliding his palm to cover the mouth that said “No.”
“Uh-uh. No way. You are not running away, D. Not for one fucking second.”
Leon was adamant, stone cold serious, utterly magnificent naked in the moonlight. D caught his breath at the sight and debated. He could make Leon forget if he wished. That would be simplest. But if he did, then he would not experience again what he had felt this day.
It had been so sweet, so fulfilling, so unbelievably addicting. He’d never known his body could feel pleasure to that degree. He’d only known he wanted Leon’s touch, his fingers and his mouth and anything else he could grab. And he wanted it again, and more, and harder, if that were even possible. But he had broken the kami’s law. He had gone against every rule that father and Q-chan had laid down. If they discovered this, this illicit liaison, he would be chastised severely. The very thought gave him chills. He had always been obedient to their wishes; had not even questioned their dislike of all things human.
Or perhaps he’d only thought he was unquestioning…he’d taken on the care and feeding of Chris, almost without a single protest. Leon practically lived at the Shop and he actually enjoyed that, hard as it might be to believe. Perhaps his dislike of humans wasn’t nearly as deep as he’d always believed.
And perhaps for Q-chan too. He hadn’t lifted a wing to prevent Chris from staying. Maybe he had mellowed in his old age?
No matter, even if he was rebelling subconsciously. If either Q-chan or Father found out he been bedded by a human and liked it, he would suffer all manners of hell. That was a quandary. The Count frowned hard and pursed his lips.
“D?” Leon prompted curiously, but the Count wasn’t listening. A whole new aspect of the dilemma had just popped full-blown into his mind.
But not if they did not discover it. If he and Leon were careful, they might just manage to continue this affair undetected. After all, Leon was already under his elder’s radar, an accepted presence at the Shop. And certainly, between the two of them, they could concoct a few schemes to gain some privacy. Leon did have that ratty apartment. It might very well be possible…and if it wasn’t, he’d deal with it later. He didn’t have to say “no” just yet.
Leon’s jaw dropped at the sudden transformation of a sad and unhappy Count to a brightly smiling one.
“Huh? D, what’s going on? Why’re you smiling like that?”
D bent down, his fingers sliding over Leon’s shoulders, and whispered softly in his ear. Leon caught on quickly, nodding - almost before D was done speaking, Leon had lunged forward to hug him, nearly squeezing the breath out of D with his zeal. D laughed breathlessly and Leon began to chuckle, too, and after a moment they slipped down to the sand, limbs entwined, exchanging kisses with a passion that would have greatly surprised Q-chan and D’s father, had they been there to witness it.
END
Title: "D Is For De Lorean"
Rating: R, NC-17, Mature, not child friendly in any way shape or form.
Pairing: Leon Orcot x Count D (I'm never going to surprise you until I do a Pon-chan X Jill, hmmm?)
Warnings: None. No one forgets anything in this one. No one dies, drowns or gets sun-burned, either.
Dedications: The kind souls (you know who you are) who read my last one and commented. My plothamsters really like you. Also to the several people in this comm who write such excellent fic that they inspire others..thank you for existing. You make me happy.)
Also, this was going to be a 100 word drabble...I think I lost my focus somewhere. Word Count:2881
Well, here goes...Do you like cars? If so, did the one I describe ever exist?
“D” is For De Lorean
Leon pried open the passenger-side gull-wing hatch and ushered the Count into the shining silver car with a flourish.
“Are you sure this is alright, Detective?” the Count inquired, eyebrows raised in further surprise at the sight of the fine leather and sleek interior.
The Count had been quite taken aback when Leon arrived earlier in the stainless steel sports car. He wasn’t particularly fond of cars; they made him somewhat seasick and claustrophobic. He got in gracefully, though, pulling the hem of his silk dress in after him like an old lady. Leon leaned across and buckled him in, inhaling that faint familiar scent that mixed with the smell of the leather.
“Yup. Absolutely positive, in fact. My baby here is the Euro-spec DMC-12, Wooler Hodec right-hand drive, turbo-charged De Lorean, D, courtesy of that drug dealer we busted. It checked out clean and it’s going up for auction soon, so I thought I’d take the opportunity to give you a little spin around the block in a nice car…for a change.”
“Why, thank you, Detective, for thinking of me,” The Count smiled sweetly, recalling the image of a lavender-point Siamese cat presented with a bowl of clotted cream.
“Hey, thank my Boss - he let me have it.” Leon, happy and feeling like he’d done good, got in himself, relishing the faint swoosh of the gull-wing locking into place. He placed the bar of chocolate (imported Belgian, natch) within easy reach of the elegant man beside him. D smiled again at the kindness.
Silence reigned for a few minutes, as Leon concentrating on navigating the car out of Chinatown and onto the highway. The right-hand drive was difficult to manage in the crowded city streets. Leon had always head the knack for driving just about any vehicle though and he eased into it soon enough. A half-hour later they were Highway 1, headed south to Point Mugu, and Leon relaxed, ever so gradually giving the Porche stallion under the stainless shell its head. D lay back in the comfort of the grey leather seat, enjoying the changing view and nibbling on his chocolate. They chatted aimlessly and pleasantly as they drove and a feeling of contentment settled over the car.
Leon paid more attention as they traveled through the Park. He had a packed gourmet lunch in the back seat and the weather was beautiful, perfect for the picnic he’d planned to present the slender gentleman by his side. He knew a place right near Mugu Rock where they could get off the highway and eat lunch.
The De Lorean had been purring along at just below 100 mph. Leon reined it in and slowed down to find a parking place near the little public beach. There were people, mostly surfers, but not too many. In a few minutes they were settling down on a blanket, the beach umbrella that Leon thoughtfully rented shielding them from the constant ocean breeze and blazing afternoon sun.
The Count laid out Leon’s little feast, delighting at the brioche, Caesar salad and fruit kebabs Orcott had brought for him. He poured iced green tea into plastic glasses while Leon bit into a Dagwood roast beef sandwich with gusto. In a little while, they were replete, mutually agreeing to save the petit fours and baked cheesecake for later. They each lay back, drowsing in the sun, soothed by the wash of the surf.
“Detective?” D’s voice cut through the little bubble of peace surrounding Leon.
“Hmm?” He’d pulled his baseball cap down over his eyes. The Count saw his lashes move.
“I know you are awake, Detective,” the Count reprimanded, laughter in his tone. Leon opened his eyes all the way.
“What?”
“I must ask…to what do I owe this pleasure, Detective? I assume you must have some reason for including me in this delightful outing?” D’s voice was expectant, teasing, but it sent a tiny shock of anger through Leon all the same.
“What the fuck, D? You think I want something?” Leon sat up and ripped his cap off his head, slamming it into the sand. The anger was followed by a rush of guilt, although he’d done nothing wrong.
“Now, now, Detective, I never said-“ The Count realized his mistake and attempted a little backpedaling. He spread out his hands in a conciliatory fashion. Leon eyed D’s placating stance and decided eventually that it was fair question. How was D to know this was a date? He probably had no idea.
“Shit, D. Would you stop calling me “Detective” already? You know my goddamned name - use it once in a while.” He looked over at the Count, squinting against the sun. The Count pursed his red lips in an encouraging smile but made no promises. Leon sighed with slight exasperation and continued.
“Look, it’s a nice day, I’ve got this great car and well, I kinda thought you could use a break, you know?”
“Ahh, I see…That was most thoughtful of you, De-Leon.”
D had wondered why Leon had picked Chris up so early this morning. He never suspected it was so they could have this--this outing. He’d even been a little annoyed, wondering why Leon hadn’t asked him to join them. D smiled ruefully at himself, wondering at his growing susceptibility to such childish emotions. It must be Leon, rubbing off.
“So, do you get it now, Count?” Leon raised his hands and spread them open. “Look, nothing up my sleeve.” D chuckled and after a minute, Leon joined him, edging closer in the camaraderie of their shared laughter. Their eyes met…and held.
The laughter died gently but neither looked away. Leon leaned forward slowly across the blanket, resting his weight on his hands. D watched him carefully; his own movement forward so slow as to be imperceptible. Their lips brushed and then clung, and neither dared breathe. The Count opened his mouth and Leon slipped in, tongue swirling over perfect teeth, the salt on his lips giving the Count a taste of the ocean. D wrapped his own tongue around Leon’s, and turned deeper into the kiss. The constant wind, the glare of the sun, the faint sound of tourists - all faded into the distance and the world contained only the two of them.
Then D issued a strange humming little moan and Leon startled at the noise, unconsciously drawing back. They broke apart, greatly embarrassed, each looking away, the Count to track a gull’s flight, Leon to gaze at the ocean, tinged scarlet and gold now with the beams of the late afternoon sun. D clasped his knees, curling into himself and Leon trickled sand through his fingers and silently cursed his luck.
“Ahem.”
After what seemed like ages, the Count cleared his throat. Leon swung round to look at him, hopeful.
“I believe we should be leaving, Detective.” The Count said, in an even tone that betrayed no emotion. “Chris will need his dinner soon and it grows late. I must return to my Shop.” The expression on D’s face was hard to read. He seemed perfectly composed but Leon saw that his lips trembled.
“No.”
The little tremble was the give-away. He was damned well going to nail this.
“No?” the Count’s soft voice faltered a little as he repeated it back. Confusion masked his features and he brought a long-nailed hand up to cover his mouth.
“No! Chris is fine and you fed everybody before we left. They can stand the wait. I can’t.”
With determination Leon reached out and captured the slim hand D was trying to hide behind. He kissed the palm with slow deliberation, licking the delicate places between each thin finger, and then looked up intently. There was a fine tremor throughout D’s whole body now, and the amethyst eye Leon could see was wide and startled. But the Count didn’t back away. Leon moved forward, scooting closer till D had to look up. Their mouths met once again and D involuntarily made a small sound of hunger deep in his throat. Leon ran rough hands up his silk tunic and started unbuttoning, moving from D’s willing lips to dot kisses along his brow, his ear, the hollow of his breastbone.
The sun was setting and the last of the surfers headed up the beach in the other direction, their laughter washed away by the surf. Leon and D were forgotten by the world. Even the umbrella man had given up and left. This was a good thing because the umbrella only hid so much.
The Count lay sprawled on the beach blanket, his skinny black silk trousers half off, exposing a long slim leg and his taut abdomen. He was erect and straining, tense with pleasure, dripping a little as Leon licked him. His nails ruffled blonde hair nervously and then scraped down Leon’s bare back, and he clutched the waistband of the detective’s jeans with desperate intent. Leon helped him, frantically unzipping, shucking down his worn denims in a frenzy, his mouth never leaving D’s cock. Then skin met skin as Leon trickled wet kisses up D’s thighs and belly, ribcage and chest, stopping only worship D’s nipples, rosy and tight as raspberries. D thrashed when Leon suckled one pink bud hard and manic hands yanked his ardent lover closer. Their lips met again and again, till Leon thought he would cum from just that…and the feel of D’s penis thrusting blindly into his thigh.
Leon attempted to prepare him, his damp fingers skittering down D’s thigh and in between the silky smooth cheeks of his ass. He rubbed the tight circle softly and then dipped in, shoving his tongue down D’s throat to stifle D’s groan.
“Nnn!”
The Count was inarticulate, spreading himself open to the invasion of Leon’s fingers, a thin trail of tears seeping from each closed eye. Leon kissed them away and continued, so hard himself that it took every unfried brain cell to stop himself from impaling D right then and there.
“Ah! Ah! Ohhh! Le…on!”
D came suddenly, his cum spurting out in a thick creamy stream, pearling on Leon’s chest hair and dampening his belly. D’s ass clenched, and Leon found the magic spot within, his unschooled touch causing D to go limp with pleasure, lavender and gold eyes staring unseeingly at some Nirvana unperceived by mortal man. He hardened again quickly as Leon stroked him with one hand, his other fingers still flexing within. Recovering from his ‘little death’, D gazed fondly up at the man caressing him and ran a questing hand down the line of Leon’s jaw. He drew Leon closer, capturing his hands, and kissed him, softly, sweetly, till Leon would have sold his soul to any passing devil, if only it would make D his.
D raised his leg, muscles trembling with the effort, and opened himself wider, one slim hand going to grasp Leon’s swollen cock. He guided it down his pale belly, the tip slithering damply across smooth skin, till it rested at his entry. Leon stared entranced at the sight of them, nearly together, and then cried out at D’s sudden thrust forward. He was in, surging forward in a hot tight channel. It was heaven, pure delight, like nothing he’d ever known. The sensation nearly made him lose it and cum like a schoolboy at a whorehouse. He sucked in his breath and continued the movement, while D glided his hips toward him, welcoming him in.
“Leon!”
Leon looked up at the Count and marveled at the beauty of his glittering eyes, the pale face flushed with passion. He pulled back and the Count gasped and lolled his head back, his long white throat exposed. Leon came closer and thrust into D a little harder, tickling that inviting neck with the tip of his tongue. The Count grasped his shoulders and clung, nails digging in as Leon upped the pace, his cock slamming harder and faster.
Leon stopped breathing at one point; he couldn’t do that and still manage to hold back. He wanted D to cum with him and the Count was nearly there, but not quite. Leon latched onto a nipple that was inviting close to his mouth, his back curved as he hunched over the Count. He tongued it and teased it with his teeth, slippery fingers twisting the other one gently. D arched convulsively and cried out, hammering his pelvis frantically against Leon’s.
“Le..on! Leon! Leee....onn!”
They came together, or so close as to be together, and Leon nearly passed out, collapsed on the Count’s shaking body. Still connected, they rolled over, Leon scraping his shoulder on the edge of the cooler. He pulled their rumpled clothes over them for warmth, as the evening breeze was brisk against his cooling body, and cuddled the Count against him, seeking warmth. He was smiling as he fell into a deep hard sleep, so astoundingly content he amazed himself.
“Leon?”
A huge moon, so close one could touch it, was shining on them brightly when the detective woke. He was shivering, empty arms wrapped around himself. The edge of the blanket was draped across him, along with his jeans, T-shirt and flannel. He peered across at the Count, who sat on the cooler, fully clothed.
“D? What’s wrong?”
Leon stumbled up, the clothes falling unheeded, and made his to kneel before D. The Count’s face was far from smiling-he seemed unbearably sad, and Leon couldn’t stand it.
“D! Tell me what’s wrong! Did I hurt you? Are you ok?” Leon touched the Count’s downcast cheek, willing him to talk.
“Leon….well…perhaps we have made…a mistake.” The words came unwillingly. The Count stared back at Leon, just as earnestly, resting his cheek against Leon’s warm palm. There was no anger in his eyes, no disgust, only sadness so deep Leon wanted to cry in sympathy.
“Mistake? Us? No-no! D, you can’t say that. I won’t let you, damn it!”
“But, Leon-“ D sighed deeply and brought a hand up to lay against Leon’s. He shook his head and started to speak. Leon forestalled him, sliding his palm to cover the mouth that said “No.”
“Uh-uh. No way. You are not running away, D. Not for one fucking second.”
Leon was adamant, stone cold serious, utterly magnificent naked in the moonlight. D caught his breath at the sight and debated. He could make Leon forget if he wished. That would be simplest. But if he did, then he would not experience again what he had felt this day.
It had been so sweet, so fulfilling, so unbelievably addicting. He’d never known his body could feel pleasure to that degree. He’d only known he wanted Leon’s touch, his fingers and his mouth and anything else he could grab. And he wanted it again, and more, and harder, if that were even possible. But he had broken the kami’s law. He had gone against every rule that father and Q-chan had laid down. If they discovered this, this illicit liaison, he would be chastised severely. The very thought gave him chills. He had always been obedient to their wishes; had not even questioned their dislike of all things human.
Or perhaps he’d only thought he was unquestioning…he’d taken on the care and feeding of Chris, almost without a single protest. Leon practically lived at the Shop and he actually enjoyed that, hard as it might be to believe. Perhaps his dislike of humans wasn’t nearly as deep as he’d always believed.
And perhaps for Q-chan too. He hadn’t lifted a wing to prevent Chris from staying. Maybe he had mellowed in his old age?
No matter, even if he was rebelling subconsciously. If either Q-chan or Father found out he been bedded by a human and liked it, he would suffer all manners of hell. That was a quandary. The Count frowned hard and pursed his lips.
“D?” Leon prompted curiously, but the Count wasn’t listening. A whole new aspect of the dilemma had just popped full-blown into his mind.
But not if they did not discover it. If he and Leon were careful, they might just manage to continue this affair undetected. After all, Leon was already under his elder’s radar, an accepted presence at the Shop. And certainly, between the two of them, they could concoct a few schemes to gain some privacy. Leon did have that ratty apartment. It might very well be possible…and if it wasn’t, he’d deal with it later. He didn’t have to say “no” just yet.
Leon’s jaw dropped at the sudden transformation of a sad and unhappy Count to a brightly smiling one.
“Huh? D, what’s going on? Why’re you smiling like that?”
D bent down, his fingers sliding over Leon’s shoulders, and whispered softly in his ear. Leon caught on quickly, nodding - almost before D was done speaking, Leon had lunged forward to hug him, nearly squeezing the breath out of D with his zeal. D laughed breathlessly and Leon began to chuckle, too, and after a moment they slipped down to the sand, limbs entwined, exchanging kisses with a passion that would have greatly surprised Q-chan and D’s father, had they been there to witness it.
END