With all the changes that took place after the Great Enlightenment that put the Supes in charge, some of the old customs have remained.
Valentine's Day is one of those customs. A day where you show someone you love them.
Valentine's Day is coming up in a few days and the boy I love has informed me that he doesn't believe in such garbage. Not because it's a Breather's holiday. Not even because the idea of loving someone on a specific day and having to PROVE it is a stupid idea.
Angelo won't tell me why. It confuses me why someone like Angelo, who can seduce and plan and is actually capable of being damned romantic - even if he'd never admit it - would feel so... hostile towards a day that means nothing to him.
Not only is he hostile about it, he's been in one of his moods all week.
Well, on Valentine's Day it stops. I'm determined to give him a reason to smile.
* * *
It could be called VD Day for all I care. It's a stupid holiday that was created by candymakers and florists to inflict guilt upon those who have to show how much they really care.
It's amazing how the dumb traditions still exist. There's no more religion so all of the religious holidays I remember are gone, but for some fucked up reason Valentine's Day was preserved.
It's also amazing how much the day gets under my skin. Even after all these years. I hated it when I was a Breather. I hate it just as much now.
What isn't helping matters is that my beloved Weasel has decided to bring up the subject for the past few days.
Ugh. If he continues at this rate, I may have to avoid him until after Valentine's Day.
* * *
It's very easy to surprise Angelo because he's been keeping himself scarce since yesterday. And since he hasn't been anywhere near my room, I haven't had to hide the tsipouro that Amorette managed to get for me. The ouzo she usually gets is hard enough to find. So is the metaxa. I'd never even heard of tsipouro until Dimitri told me about it when I wanted to know if there was any kind of booze Angelo had when he was a real teenager.
Well, maybe I should say, Dimitri didn't tell me shit, I had to dig around in his head for it. Only that information, thank you very much, Dimitri's mind is one place I didn't want to stick around in for long, the sick fuck.
Amorette hadn't heard of it either, but she's quite resourceful and came through for me. So now it's in my room, hidden underneath my bed, to be chilled at the right time.
I have other things to take care of. The rare tsipouro was the hardest part, the rest should be a piece of cake.
Including tricking Angelo into hunting for me. Angelo is one of the best hunters there is. Let's see if one of the best hunters can find me on Valentine's Day.
* * *
24 hours and counting until it's doomsday.
Well not doomsday, just a fucking pain in my ass day.
Last night I realized that I wasn't being fair to my beloved, shutting him out and not telling him why I hate this holiday.
I was planning on explaining it to him, something I haven't bothered to do in the past but I felt that I sort of owed it to him since this is a day about romance and all he really wanted to do was be romantic -- and of course, the more romantic he feels, the more amorous he'd be and shutting him out is sort of the equivalent of cutting off my nose to spite my face.
Or cutting off my cock.
But I can't tell him because he's nowhere to be found. Apparently he's figured out that he can cut me off from the blood bond because I can't find him that way. I knew it was only a matter of time til he knew that little fact. I can cut him off too but while he can reconnect us by force, I don't have the power to do that.
I fucking hate it. It doesn't matter that he won't use that power because getting me that way means he's lost -- a lesson his uncle doesn't care to learn. It matters that he could do it if he wanted to.
So now he's gone. I have no fucking idea where. Maybe he's gone for good finally; I always knew that night would come sooner or later, when he finally got smart and left.
But what else should something like me expect? Angelo is lusted after. Not loved.
That's the real reason I loathe Valentine's Day, and did even when I was alive.
People don't give flowers or chocolate to objects of lust. They don't bother. They just get their rocks off and leave me.
Alone.
* * *
It's time to put the plan into action:
The tsipouro is chilling.
The reservation has been made.
The room is ready.
Now all I have to do is search for someone suitable. Someone not just pretty but drop dead gorgeous.
Of course, no one comes close to Angelo.
But I know his taste and this has to be a boy he won't even consider resisting.
Part one of my present?
Could be.
* * *
It's gonna be a fucking long night. Or in my case a long fucking night since there is no way in hell I will be alone tonight. Especially not on bloody Valentine's Day.
Hmmmm, bloody Valentine's day heart... maybe I'll just rip it still beating out of someone's body.
That is a thought that has become very tempting as this night drags on and the sun has been down for only a few hours.
Weasel still hasn't come back. I suppose it's only fitting. With all my disappearing acts, it's only fair that he's finally disappeared as well.
Why did I ever let myself care about him? Life was so much simpler before. I came, I saw, I fucked. End of story. The few that were around longer than my one month average I saw on my terms.
Radu, of course, went by and still goes by his own rules but it only works because he makes his appearances creative, sexy and most of all... occasional.
This will be the last time I'm this open with anyone.
Yeah, I was closed to him in a lot of ways but I was more open with him than with anyone.
Ever.
Well that's history. Now I want to think about other things. Like finding a bonbon to take home with me tonight.
Only one problem.
No boy I've seen has done it for me yet. And I've found myself looking at blonds....
Not that I didn't have a thing for them before tonight. Shit, Dimitri is proof enough of that.
But forgetting about my beloved... if he still is my beloved... is not gonna happen if I keep looking at blonds.
Oh wait, what have we here.... not a blond, in fact he's a brunette, but I cannot take my eyes off him. There is nothing quite like dark hair and light eyes and those cheekbones!
And those eyes are looking in my direction. Which works for me. So does the fact that I can smell the booze on his lips and in his sweat. If he drank that much then I can get drunk.
"Didn't your mother teach you that it's rude to stare?" I ask him.
He blushes so prettily and stammers, "Er, I, um didn't mean to."
"No?" I flash him my most seductive smile. "Your mother may think it's rude but I don't."
He smiles back in relief. "You're cute."
Cute? I've been called many things but "cute" is not one of them. Cute is for puppy dogs. Strike one but he's so pretty I'll let it go. "And you're without a boyfriend or not caring that you have one?"
He laughs. "You're shameless! The answer is I don't have a boyfriend." He winks. "Not yet."
Excellent. If he had a boyfriend he wasn't being faithful to, then I'd have to pass him up because I wouldn't want anyone looking for him. Just in case I decided to kill him. As if my decision weren't already made. It is only a matter of when. "Well then, you have no excuse."
"For what?"
"For not going back to my place."
He laughs again. "Oh really?"
Let him see how shameless I really am. I put my hand under his chin. "Really." I tilt his face upwards and lick the booze from his mouth. It tastes very familiar but I'm not sure what it is. Kind of like gin or vodka. Maybe a mixture of both with a hint of... grape? "Or do you not want to?"
He gives me a wicked smile. "Maybe I need convincing."
I kiss him and I still can't put my finger on what it is I taste. It doesn't matter though because he's a rarity: a Norm who's a good kisser. I'm beginning to wonder how he'll look with his clothes off.
Hmmm... maybe I'll keep him around for a while.
* * *
Should I wrap myself up with a big red bow? Or would that be overkill?
I wonder.
I also wonder if this won't backfire on me.
In the time I've been with Angelo, I've learned that as much as he loves to surprise, he hates being surprised. He hates being out of control period.
He vanishes when he feels like it but I know he'll freak when he realizes I'm not around.
Which isn't fair, I know. But I knew all that going into this.
I only hope that he doesn't react by vanishing forever.
* * *
The novelty is wearing off damned fast and the night isn't even half over.
Or should I say, MY night isn't even half over.
His is about to end.
Right now.
Why? Because even if he is good in bed, there is enough about him I don't like to make it not worth it.
That's the balance. If I like your personality but you're lousy in bed I won't bother with you as anything other than as a possible ally or friend. And I better like your personality a LOT or I won't bother with you period. Sorry but I'm just fussy that way. If I like you in bed but don't like your personality, I'll have you once, then kill you.
Like I'm gonna kill this twit.
The first indication that things were not going to work out came just as we reached my room....
Twenty questions... give me a fucking break... no I'm not gonna tell you my schedule, if I have a job, what my favorite color is, or how many lovers I've had before you! I want to fuck you not marry you and even if I was planning on my version of marriage (I don't call the kids I Sire my brides for nothing) I still wouldn't answer all those fucking questions.
That got on my tits REAL quick.
Next clue that he wasn't gonna last long came came during sex....
Too much talk. Talk is fine and dandy but when I'm in bed with you and I don't know you, I want to make you moan, I want you to scream with ecstasy, I want your mouth occupied with mine, not yammering on about stupid, or loveydovey bullshit you have no right to say because you don't know me! I was rapidly figuring out why he had no boyfriend. It's an intimacy that you haven't earned, honeychild.
But the kicker was that he wouldn't take no for an answer....
Unless you are a handful of people: Weasel, Radu, Dimitri, Amorette and of course Ardoin, I don't want you touching me. Period. I'll get you off and I'll have you. You have to earn the right to touch me and the only way to do that is if you manage to get me off on your first try and you're only gonna get that chance if you seduce me. I don't seduce easily but if you're imaginative and sexy and I trust you, then I'll let you seduce me and I'll let you touch me but you'd damned well better do it for me then or you won't get a second chance.
And I mean seduce me. That doesn't mean grope me or paw me after I've shoved your hand away several times. Be creative about it. Game me. Make me your mark. That's probably why the only ones who've managed to seduce me are fellow gamers. I appreciate a good game and the trouble someone goes to to hook me in. Gods yes, seduce me into bed, drive me insane with desire, make me WANT you so badly that just hearing your voice makes my cock hard.
Otherwise, don't bother. It'll only get you killed.
He didn't do any of that. Yeah, as I said, he was good in bed and he was very responsive, but his hands went where they shouldn't have, where I didn't want them and he didn't get the hint when I politely, then not so politely, pushed them away. He probably wondered why I never took my clothes off.
Well I'm gonna get something out of this night, out of my time with him. Besides, I'm getting hungry and I've sweetened him quite nicely.
I seize him by his shoulders and push him down on my bed, flat on his back. Then I lie on top of him and kiss him deeply, still wondering what that grape-like taste is in his mouth. I know what it is, I've had it before, but although it's on the tip of my tongue, the word escapes me now.
He's getting real excited but I don't want to waste any more time on him so I let my lips slip from his, my tongue running down his jawline, my lips moving down to his throat where my tongue begins to probe for the magic spot.
Yeah, my signature spots are usually right near the breastbone or the inner thigh but to be honest, both are for the sole reason of me sucking and nibbling the delicious parts nearby and I don't want to do anything that will give him any more pleasure so I'm not going to.
I am soooooo tempted to sink my teeth in and tear out his throat but even though he is an obnoxious idiot, he doesn't deserve a painful and messy death so instead I just press his skin against my teeth and puncture.
And savor.
He's pure sugar, I drink his passionlaced blood and let his desire flood my senses, this is how Angelo gets off. Sugar and that booze... now I remember, although I haven't had a drop of it since I was a teenager in Tarpon Springs, Florida, long ago and far away.
Tsipouro. Where the fuck did this kid find it and why was someone who isn't Greek drinking enough of it to get him very tipsy and me nicely buzzed? Almost intoxicated.
Curiouser and curiouser.
Killing him is more exciting than having sex with him was. But isn't that usually the case?
I could drain him but that's not my style, I just want him weak enough to stagger on out of the Nocturne and die on his own time. But as long as he's unconscious I might as well steal anything valuable that he has.
Like any credit notes in his wallet.
I rifle through his wallet and find no cash, nothing at all but a piece of paper that has written upon it: "For Angelo"
For me?!
Did someone set me up?
Dying of curiousity, I turn the paper over and find three words written in French. Cajun French. I know it because in my first years with Sylvie, Ardoin and Angelique it was either learn French or not understand the speech around me. The translation is:
Come find me
I know only three people who speak Cajun. One hasn't talked to me nor I to her in four decades. That leaves two people and I highly doubt it's Ardoin.
Come find him, mmmmmmm? My night has instantly improved.
* * *
It's almost midnight and there is still no sight of him.
Did I make a mistake by closing off the blood bond?
No. He should still be able to find me.
Unless he doesn't bother....
No, I won't think that way, I can't think that way.
I figure by now he's seen my gift. Probably unwrapped it as well. Angelo doesn't wait long when it comes to that. I hope he likes it. I chose it just for him. I even tried it out first....
I know Angelo rises before I do but I've had a jump start on him because I've been staying here for the past three nights. It didn't take me long to find the boy, about an hour, which was good because timing was everything. I got lucky.
I brought the boy back here for a while, gave him glass after glass of tsipouro. Half the bottle in fact. I got very lucky. He had high enough of a tolerance that he didn't get legless but he was definitely feeling it. And if he did, Angelo would.
I didn't want him smashed. That would make Angelo useless and I didn't spend all that money to have that happen. No, mellow was what I was shooting for.
And that wasn't even the entire reason I was doing that. I knew he'd like the taste of the tsipouro mixed with the boy's blood. I didn't try that part out for myself because he'd see my signature if I even attempted it and I didn't want my clever lover to figure out whose hand was behind this until after he'd already taken the kid and was stealing from him.
Besides, this is for Angelo. Not me.
I know the boy is nearly dead by now. Angelo only puts up with so much and although he definitely met Angelo's standards when it comes to the bedroom, he probably got on Angelo's last nerve in no time flat.
Did I purposely choose someone beautiful but vapidly obnoxious?
Maybe....
* * *
Perhaps this night can be saved after all.
A hunting I will go, a hunting I will go....
The truth is, now that I know he's hiding out somewhere, he won't be all that hard to find.
There aren't all that many places he can be.
I can't go looking for Weasel yet until I get rid of this pain in my ass.
Or at least get him out of my room.
Once he's out of here, then the rest is up to him. Or whoever finds him.
Right now, it's time to wake the little naif up, which I can easily do with a flick of my will.
His pretty, vacant eyes struggle to open, I may not have drained him but I did drink quite a lot. Enough to heat me up considerably. In more ways than one. What can I tell you, he tasted so good.
He barely has the strength to stand, let alone dress himself so I have to do that for him. Well, I'm not gonna be neat about it. It's a matter of slipping the jeans onto his legs, lifting up his body with one hand while I pull up the jeans with the other, zipping them up so they stay on his waist, then sliding the shirt over his arms, buttoning it up and putting on his jacket the same way.
I'm not bothering with his briefs. He probably won't live long enough for it to matter anyway. If it wasn't for the fact that I had to get him out of the club I wouldn't be dressing him up again, but I can hardly have him walk through the club naked.
A strange feeling of deja vu hits me. I did the same thing to Dimitri over four decades ago after I jumped his body for the first time. At least this boy is a lot lighter and easier to manage.
I put my arm around his shoulders and lead his staggering body out of my room, where I close the door without letting go of his sorry body because I don't feel like picking him up off the floor. Then we walk downstairs where I steer him through the throng of people and out of the Nocturne.
"When will I see you again?" he manages to ask me.
Why am I not surprised? "Don't worry about that," I answer, kissing his hand. "Just say goodnight, lover."
I send him on his way before he can argue and I head off in search of my beloved.
As I walk, I run through the possibilities in my head. If Weasel had the chance to ply the boy with drinks beforehand, he has to be somewhere where he could do that. I doubt he's in Sargot City proper. I'd think that Weasel wants me to find him and he knows that if I have to start fucking around with a taxi or find a ride into Sargot City itself because I've had too much substance to phase out and just drift there, I'm not gonna bother and Weasel can just stay hidden.
So it's somewhere in the Old Quarter.
I start my hunt, my eyes scanning for traces of anything that can give me clues to where Weasel is. I'm also seeing if I can smell traces of the boy because if I can smell where he was, then I'll know the direction Weasel went in.
After having no luck for nearly two hours, I decide to stop this wild goose chase and think of where Weasel could possibly be.
Hmmm....
He knows damned well that I'm juiced up and quite hot and bothered and that the first thing I'm gonna want to do when I see him is to fuck his brains out. He also knows that I don't like audiences when I Share pleasure and that I'd rather not do it outside. Which means he's inside.
And he knows I like comfort so it's gonna be somewhere nice. Somewhere where money will make up for us not being Supes.
I grin to myself. I know where he is now.
Ma Maison.
I have no credit notes or even a credit card but something tells me Weasel has already seen to that.
I walk inside and go straight to the concierge. Now, what name would Weasel register under?
The answer comes to me almost instantly. "Is there a Jacques Drollet registered here?"
The concierge looks in his book. Gods I'm hoping I don't have to grease his palm in order for him to cooperate. If that's the case, I may have to cheat.
I can tell by the look on his face that he'll need major greasing. Fuck.
"So sorry but we can't give out the names of our guests," he says, his tone dripping snottiness.
It's time to cheat. I let my hand brush against his hand that's shutting the registration book. "Are you sure?"
"Quite," he sniffs.
That's alright, I've had the minimal amount of physical contact that I need. Now his body is mine. "Surely you can make an exception," I purr, focusing my mind on to his crotch, where I let him feel my tongue teasing the head of his cock.
He jumps, staring downwards, then back at me standing in front of the counter, looking utterly confused. They always are. "I'm sorry sir, no excep-" His words are cut off with a gasp because now I'm giving him an astral blow job and he has no idea of what's going on; only that he's getting quite... hot. "No exceptions," he finally says breathlessly.
"That's too bad." I sigh, psychically withdrawing so he no longer is feeling my warm mouth sucking him off. "I really was hoping you could be a tad more cooperative. But if you can't..." I let my words trail off and walk towards the door.
"Wait," he tells me.
It is so hard not to smirk. I turn around to face him."Yeah?"
"What did you just do to me?"
"I don't know what you're talking about," I coolly evade him.
I can see him shifting around in his chair, damn that hard-on must be frustrating. "Perhaps I can make an exception," he decides.
I smile. "I thought you could."
As I walk back there, I quickly debate whether I should go behind that desk and actually give him the physical version of what I've been doing to him psychically or just stick to jumping his body astrally.
He's not bad looking but any extra time I waste with him is less time I have with the one I really want to be with so I put him to sleep instead and peer over at the registry myself.
I was right. Jacques Drollet. Room 501. My, my, my, the luxury suite. Between the tsipouro and this, my lover has shelled out quite a lot of lucre tonight.
I'll have to make everything he did worth it.
I walk into the elevator and get off on the fifth floor, going to Weasel's suite and knocking the door.
No answer.
But he is in there. Even if I can't feel him through the bond, I can still feel that there is a Nightchild in the room.
I jiggle the doorknob, turning it in the hopes that the door is unlocked and instantly find out that I'm right.
Opening the door, I notice that the lights are off but the room is lit by candlelight. Candles on each nighttable. Candles on the floor. Candles lighting the whole suite.
My nose is suddenly hit with the scent of roses. I look down and see rose petals. The bed is covered with rose petals.
There is a trail of rose petals that is leading into what looks like the bathroom. As my beloved would say, "In-teresting."
I walk inside and see a bathtub that looks like a jacuzzi. And in it is a deliciously naked Weasel, lounging languidly. (I knew you'd make it eventually,) he Nightspeaks.
(Is this where you've been?)
He smiles. (If you want the rest of your Valentine's Day present, you'll have to get into the tub.)
No problem there whatsoever. I strip and throw my clothes out the bathroom door, not wanting them to get wet. Then I climb into the tub, straddle my beloved's lap and throw my arms around his neck. (Have you been waiting long?)
(Long enough.) Weasel licks my lips. (He tastes good.)
I lick his. (So does the one you took tonight.)
(Angelo,) he asks me, (do you like Valentine's Day now?)
Was that what all this was for? I grin at him. (If I answer, will you give me the rest of my present?)
He begins to roll his hips underneath me so his cock is sliding against mine. (Greedy,) he teases, moving faster.
(Always.) I seize his mouth with mine and our tongues tangle as we kiss deeply.
I love kissing. And there is no one I love to kiss more than him.
Between the kiss and his movements I am rapidly growing as hard as I can feel he is. I break the kiss and slide down his lap, ducking my head underneath the warm water.
I lick his thighs, biting him, my bites growing harder and deeper until I reach my goal.
Weasel's cock is my lollipop, I lick his shaft, nibble and savor him, letting my fangs rake over him, feeling even more aroused by his moans and his heavy breathing. "Angelo," he hisses through his own fangs, "stop teasing."
I swoop my head a little and take him into my mouth, swallowing him, sucking, until he growls deep in his throat, coming violently.
I raise my head and to my surprise, he pounces; pushing me back against the edge of the bathtub so my head is thrown back, slightly hanging over the edge. He leans forward, his kisses trailing down my throat. (You didn't think that was my present, did you, Angel Boy?) he murmurs against my neck. (Not even close.)
Weasel drapes himself over my body and kisses me ferociously, biting and sucking at my lips as his body slides against mine, the water making his hard-on glide as it rubs frenetically against me.
Weasel's humping is making me want to do the real thing but as soon as I break the kiss and try to get up, he pushes me back down. He has better leverage, which is why he chose this position.
"Not so fast," he whispers. "Stay."
Like I have a choice? Or even want to leave?
Weasel's arms snake around me, his mouth feasting on my chest, oh yes, he knows what I like, that's why he earned the right to touch me from the third night we were together, and he's sooooooo good. His tongue teases, featherlight on my nipples as they harden underneath his tongue before he sucks and bites them, his nails slashing down my back.
Then his mouth moves lower, to my magic spot and his teeth sink in.
He sucks hard, the softness of his lips as he pulls at me making me so hard I can barely stand it.
Weasel increases the delicious torture he's inflicting by sliding his hands down to my hips, one hand moving between my legs and grasping me, pumping furiously as he sucks at my chest.
Our blood heats up one another's, amplifying our passion and creating an upsurge of ecstasy.
He withdraws and lifts his head, letting go of me. (Turn around,) Weasel tells me.
I do and now the front of my body is leaning against the edge of the tub and Weasel is licking the blood that is running from the slashes to my back and nibbling his way down before running his tongue along the crack of my ass.
Then he takes me, ramming himself into me and riding me violently, pulling in and out and thrusting as deep as he can. He's fucking me so savagely that I slam into the bathtub each time he thrusts. I brace myself so my face doesn't get smashed.
Waves of ecstasy are overtaking me and I ride them, until I finally come and Weasel follows moments later.
He collapses against me, taking me into his arms. (Happy Valentine's Day, Angel Boy.)
I nuzzle his ear. "How long do we have this room, love?" I whisper, licking the shell of his ear.
(Til tomorrow night sometime.)
I grin. (All the more time to Share pleasure with you, kaloz mou.)
Perhaps Valentine's Day isn't so bad after all. Especially when I have someone who loves me to spend it with.
What a concept. Someone loves Angelo.
I could get very used to that.