Author: Draco volans PM
In the not the distant future, mankind and demons live in tenuous peace. Threats to the social order is policed by the agencies to prevent a new war. Federal Agent and part-demon Eden Harrows, is just good at finding trouble. SLASH YAOI M/M M/Multi.Rated: Fiction M - English - Supernatural/Romance - Chapters: 2 - Words: 13,306 - Reviews: 4 - Favs: 6 - Follows: 13 - Updated: 04-09-12 - Published: 03-22-12 - id: 3007133
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
In the not too distant future,
Homo sapiens shares title of dominant species with another.
Through their portals, Homo demonicus arrived to lay siege to humanity in the opening of the 20th century.
In the ensuing massacres of a decades long struggle, both sides, human and demon, agree the cost of battle between them was too high,
and a fragile peace emerged.
Depopulated, and without the arcane gates that bore them to Earth, demons fell under tight surveillance, carefully policed by humans.
One hundred years after their arrival, the wars but a distant memory, descendents of the demons are fully integrated in society.
Peace was the obvious and resolute status quo.
Or so it seemed.
As for some there always existed the doubt,
That if the demons could get here once...
It was only a matter of time until they did so again.
Heaven was burning.
Clutching his matte black service sidearm in a clammy grip, a male in his mid-twenties, stood on the sidewalk, watching in sickly horror, as the city skyline turned rapidly from afternoon light, to a darkening, fiery pink. Strong winds buffeted his brown hair and his cheap navy blue government suit, blowing random papers and congested matter through the air. The source of the tempest, surely being the easily discernable dark void over the city centre. An apparent hole in existence, that was perceivable simply by the absence of everything else. That he could see it from the decentralised headquarters some miles away, awarded it a scale not insignificant in the least.
The young man's body started in shock at the sound of a nearby gunshot, but the height of the surrounding buildings made searching out the source, pointless. It could have been twenty yards off, it could have been two hundred. It didn't matter. Gun shots were no longer unique. The city was already at war. He could hear the distant cries of people and sirens. The screams of the wind and gun shots. And the howls of fire and the demon horde.
He was just glad he couldn't see it from street level.
He could easily observe though, the fiery trails of new demons, dozens upon dozens, endlessly spiralling down from the portal, ready to reek out their own unique brand of gratification.
This was only the beginning.
The male was thrown to the ground as the lobby of the federal building up the steps behind him, exploded out onto the street, in a rage of wind and broken glass. His world was spinning. The man held his hands, one still clasping his gun, to his head, trying to blink away the white spots in his vision and the ringing in his ears.
"Heh, heh, heh. I guess that brat finally decided to get the party started. About time, I say. Enough pathetic hearts to beat."
The young man brought himself to a half crouch, angling awkwardly around behind him to point his weapon. Backdropped against the broken and burning building, a man stood at the height of the series of steps, watching the void. He was huge, well over seven feet tall. Dressed in black leather trousers, and huge boots, his bare chest rippled with outlandishly oversized muscles, covered in tough, pumice-coloured skin. His ears were large and pointed, his eyes yellow and cruel. But it was the mouth the grabbed your attention. The skin of his lipless mouth was drawn back and wide around a smiling maw of inch-long fanged teeth. Tightly junctioned, the colour shading was more reminiscent of black than yellow, white having probably never been a part of the equation.
He obviously wasn't a man at all, and given his indifference to the explosion, was the obvious cause.
Swallowing the knot is his throat, he pointed his weapon, fighting a wobble.
"Stop there, Demon!"
The inhuman humanoid averted his gaze away from the skyborne calamity, and upon sighting the man with the gun, his impossibly wide grin, stretched back wider still.
"Heh, heh, heh. Good. Like rats to the hawk."
The demon angled his body towards the human, and slowly started down the steps towards him.
"Only if you're the Rat," the young man spat back with a confidence he just didn't feel, as he rose to his feet, finger on the trigger.
"You're under arrest!"
The demon chuckled taking another step.
"Make another move and I'll fire."
"Heh, heh, heh."
A round tore into the breast of the approaching demon, right where the heart would be. The demon just kept on grinning.
"Heh, heh, heh."
Two more rounds sailed out, striking the beast in the abdomen and solar plexus, but the grinning demon just kept making his slow path down the shrinking number of steps, unaffected.
Swallowing, the young man took a step back and began to pull his finger upon the trigger as rapidly as he could, unloading upon the massive target that he had no hope of missing, until all sixteen plus one rounds of ammunition had been expended across the surface of his target. A target which now having reached the end of the stairs, was only scant steps away from him.
"Heh, heh, heh."
Dropping the empty magazine, the young man took rapid backward steps as he shakily tore through his jacket for a fresh clip, seeking desperately to reload his weapon. The opportunity was snatched from him as his foe burst across the distance between them, in a display of preternatural speed far beyond that of mere humans.
The gun tumbled from his hand as he tore at the meaty paw which gripped him around the neck, raising him towards that mouth. He could smell the breath of the demon already. It was revolting, and stank like death.
"Heh, heh, heh. Rat's gonna die."
Black teeth gnashed themselves together, scant inches from his face, as he flailed and kicked uselessly to break the grip. He took back his previous thoughts about the demon's breath smelling like death. It was a hundred times fouler than that. The fangs glistened with rancid saliva as the mouth opened wide to make a fatal bite.
"Asmodius. Put the boy down."
The man wheezed on impact as he was dropped to the concrete ground, landing in a wrenching pile beside the humongous demon.
"I found this one first! Get your own plaything," came the harsh rebuke of his attacker from far above him, directed not to him, but in a new direction.
Mind fuzzy, the young man rolled from his side painfully, to his stomach, crawling with his arms on the pavement, intent on putting some distance between him and the demon whilst it was distracted.
"The boy is mine, Asmodius. Be gone."
His attacker's heavy boot stomped down beside his head, missing him by a clear margin, but not without hitting the ground with enough force to crack the surface of the concrete pavement, sending a mighty tremor through his body, that made his teeth ache and head pound. Any closer and the blow would have connected and killed him for sure.
With a vocal snarl, the big demon moved off loudly, and laying his head on the ground and closing his eyes wearily, the young man was treated to a few moments of silence. The scuffle of shoes coming to a halt in front of his collapsed head made his eyes flick open. A set of trainers were placed squarely in his vision. Craning his neck, he trailed his gaze up the low-strung jeans and slender hips of a lithe body, until his gaze met the plush lips smiling thinly down at him.
The man exhaled heavily, recognising the newcomer.
"Why didn't you let him kill me?"
The lips twitched in humour.
"Your death will come by my hand, or not at all."
The young man grimaced.
He laid his head back down on the ground.
"Do what you want. Kill me. Torture me. I won't fight you."
The newcomer chuckled quietly.
"Broken already? Disappointing."
"Yeah well that's me. A fucking disappointment."
The man's stomach lurched as the ground shifted from under him, vertigo setting in, as his brain fought to establish that the terrain was not shifting underneath his body, he was the one moving. Floating rapidly into the air, from two feet to twenty and rapidly gaining height. Yet he could still feel the cold concrete on his skin, just as rigid, despite him now laying prone on nothing but air.
"Take my hand."
A slender palm was offered to him invitingly. He glared at the newcomer balefully, who just laughed in humour.
"Take my hand, or try your luck at standing yourself."
He glanced down. They were already about a hundred feet and didn't look they'd be stopping anytime soon. He looked back up past the proffered hand.
"Didn't you say just a moment ago, that my death would only come by your hand?"
The boy smiled.
"Didn't you offer just to die?"
He frowned, staring at the hand held enticingly at him. Seconds ticked past and the altitude continued to climb past two hundred feet. With a scowl, he stuck his arm up and took the proffered limb.
Fingers tightened over his own, and with a jolt his stomach plummeted and the 'ground' disappeared beneath him such that he was pivoting just from the point of contact.
"Gah!" he cried aloud, his whole weight hanging from his wrist, body dangling over some now three hundred feet of air between him and the ground, whilst the other male stood as calmly and serenely as he had on terra firma, displaying no sign of hindrance or physical taxation.
The young man's other hand joined the first, holding onto tightly.
"The way you cling, one would think you wanted to live after all."
They were now four hundred feet in the air.
"Let go. Let go, or I will let you go. You never struck me as the cowardly type, so just, let go."
Five hundred feet.
He looked down. He could start differentiating the streets quite easily now. Looking back up, he just saw the stoic expression that made him sick to his stomach, worse than the altitude did.
"Want me to die, huh!"
His muscles were straining. He wouldn't be able to hold on much longer.
Closing his eyes, he released his grip and fell, about a foot, and then stopped. He opened his eyes back up, to find himself moving in motion with the younger male, still ascending, though now unassisted.
The other male just smiled mildly.
Six hundred feet.
"You sound angry. Are you grateful to be alive?"
The boy just smiled wider. The distance between them closed, such that they were at eye level. Crossing his arms, the boy just 'stood' there watching him silently, and speculatively, as they continued to climb into the sky.
Scowling the taller looked away and saw the city spreading out beneath them. Fires were breaking out in cars and buildings, anarchy was sweeping the streets. He could see distant skirmishes between humans and demons. Blood was the new black.
A thousand feet.
"You have questions?"
He glared back at the boy, but his heart wasn't in it. The adrenaline in his veins was fading rapidly.
"No," he replied tiredly.
"You won. You used me - us, all of us. You used us all. You've won. I have no questions."
The younger boy tilted his head ponderously, contemplating the other a moment.
"Then...I have a question for you. If you'll satisfy me with an answer."
The older male narrowed his eyes.
"What could I have to say, that could possibly be of any fucking interest to you?"
The boy held out his hand again in offering. The male frowned, wary of the slender fingers. He waiting long moments for an explanation, but his captor gave up nothing, and they continued to climb. Realising the boy wouldn't continue unless he took hold, he grasped at it, gasping as their ascent jerked to a halt a couple thousand feet in the air. He did his utmost to ignore the familiar weighty tingle racing through his skin when they touched, trying to hide it, and knowing he was likely failing miserably.
With the boy's eyes fixed on his own, the soft hand tightening minutely.
"Have you ever been in love?"
Then let go.
Heavy panting filled the room, as a man drove himself with exertion, into the hot, tight heat.
"God, Eden! Fuck! You're so good!"
Lying in bed upon his back, the man despite being of some forty years of age, possessed a body that hid this fact well. At six foot one and two hundred pounds, Simon Gallager possessed as much of the vigour now, that he did eight years ago when he won Gold Rowing at the Dubai Summer Olympics. Though if he were strictly honest, lately a 2000m competition row seemed positively plebeian, compared to how much energy sex with the nymph above him, drained away.
With hands on the frame of the bed over Simon's head, the young man astride couldn't have been much over twenty. But that didn't prevent him from riding the athlete with an energy that physically shifted the entire bed forward a couple inches to bang against the wall, each time he thrust himself forward and down onto the hard cock spearing his body.
"Gah! Eden! Won't Last! Eugh! God!"
The youth smiled sweetly downward at the man, ice-blue eyes twinkling mischievously.
"I love it when you call me, God," the youth murmured, undulating himself upon the man's flesh.
Snickering, the youth tossing his head back to flick his raven locks out of his eyes, gripped the bed frame more tightly with sinewy muscles, and drove himself harder onto the man.
"Ah. Ah. Ede. Eden. Shit. I'm gon. Gonna. Ahhhh Fuck!"
Simon grabbed onto the boy's narrow waist tightly with both hands, as his core emptied itself into the hungry body.
"Eugh. God, Eden. Fuck! Ahh. Fuck. Sss. Stop. Sss. Sss. Stop! Nnngh. Ah!"
The boy quelled his motions with a quirked brow, and the man collapsed into the sprawled sheets, being practically absorbed by the bed, as he panted harshly in the quiet of the room.
Releasing the hold on the bed frame, the boy, not yet satisfied if his yet solid tumescence was anything to go by, laid a hand either side of the man's head, draped his slim body over the other's, maximising skin contact, a bemused expression on his face. Simon could feel the heat of the boy's body on top of his own, uncomfortably heated, flesh. In full contact like this, faces inches away, the differences between them couldn't be ignored. Physical age notwithstanding, the boy was a good six inches shorter, and sixty pounds slighter than him. His skin lightly golden, was ensnaringly soft and hair free, pleasantly firm across the flat stomach and buttocks, and tight, oh so virginally tight, in between.
A far cry from his aged, scratchy form, which was having a real trial in catching a breath.
"Not going to stroke out on me are you, Mister Olympian?" the raven-haired boy teased.
Simon swallowed, heart pounding in his chest. This was the price he paid for having sex with him. It was as ever, incredible, but made him felt like he was about to fucking die. And what a chore waking up in the morning proved.
The man smiled, and laughed breathlessly.
"Heh, heh. Nah. But I thi. Think. I think I'm getting too, too fucking old for this."
Eden rolled his eyes, pushing himself up back to a squat.
"Please. You're not old."
"Ugh nugh!" Simon grimaced as the boy knelt up, the man's spent cock slipping out of the tight heat.
"Public transport in this city. Now, that's old!"
Clambering off the bed, the raven-haired boy began bending to pick up articles of clothing, evidently not the least bit worse for wear, whilst the Olympian on the bed wiped sweat from his brow.
"No, No argu, argument from me. Did you need, need to come?" the man breathed out.
"Hmm? What?" The youth asked as he fished his underwear off the floor, glancing back at the man. In explanation the man gestured in the direction of the boy's crotch, arm flopping onto the bed lazily, at the effort it cost him.
The boy glanced downward at his hardness, which lay solid and vertical pressing against his belly button, with an expression of disinterest.
"Oh, no. I don't need to come. I've got work tomorrow, and I doubt you'd survive to finish me off anyway," the boy said with a grin, pulling his black, boxer brief underwear up over his erection, and arranging himself so he was somewhat comfortable.
"No offense," the boy added, offhandedly, over his shoulder.
"Heh. None taken," the man panted out. "Until next Sunday then, Ee, Eden?" he asked the boy.
"Mmmhmm," the boy nodded absently, having already pulled his black trousers and shoes on, and in the process of slipping on a button-down, white dress shirt and black suit jacket.
"Yep, same time next week. Text me if you need to reschedule, otherwise see you at eight."
Eden bent to pick up a dark brown messenger bag from the floor, and slung it over his shoulder and across his chest, reaching in the centre pocket to remove a silver smartphone to glance at the time.
"Yeah, I'll call you," Simon breathed. "This isn't the firs, first time, ya know."
Eden's eyes grew comically wide. "Who are you? What have you done with my cherry?" he said with a shaky voice.
"Get going, you brat," the man snarled good-naturedly at him, and the boy laughed, heading out of room, with a blind wave of his arm.
"See you next week, Simon!" the boy's voice called out distantly, and he heard his front door snap shut as the boy left.
The man sighed, and wiped his brow, and made to sit up, only to fall backwards.
"Fuck!" Simon swore. "I'm getting too bloody old for this."
Eden stood outside the door, head tilted as if listening, before he smiled and walked off the steps and crossing the road to an illuminated bus pickup sign. Standing beside it, the darkly dressed boy glanced at the timesheet, noting he had a minute until the next one was due.
Tapping at the screen of his phone, the youth pressed the calendar function, and the screen opened to automatically display the current day's single event.
221 Vincent Avenue.
Hitting edit he quickly modified it to;
221 Vincent Avenue.
Olympic Rower/Getting too old
And copied it into the following Sunday night for the same time. Flicking his thumb across the screen sideways to the next day, he scanned the entry.
308 Winchester St.
Busy? Text night before. Kristian will cover no prob.
"Hmm," the boy murmured to himself, sending a text.
EDEN: You free tomorrow?
He watched the screen, waiting for the reply. The sound of the bus turning on the avenue, made him glance up, and he waved his hand to hail the driver, the old bus revving to a lower gear, as it slowed to pick him up.
The youth looked down at the new message on his screen.
GUNNER: Freed up some time. 1830. Will do you early. Busy after. Enjoy your night, slut!
The slender boy smirked, and locked his phone, dropping it into his side-bag as the bus drew up him, and the doors opened. He stepped on board.
"Evening," the youth greeted with a smile to the driver, a heavy-set man with a thick mustache, and placed his thumb against a pad at the top of the steps. The screen flashed from white, to yellow, displaying 'licensee' in bold lettering.
The driver's eyes narrowed skeptically, but after a moment, nodded, and the boy moved past him, towards the back. There were only four other people on the bus. A young teenage guy and girl, sat mid-way on the left side, leaning on each rather heavily, exchanging chaste whispers. An elder woman in her sixties, whom was reading a book in the seat directly behind the driver. And finally a solitary man in his late twenties, on the first bench seat on the right. The man was wearing a leather coat, and was further distinguished by not only the purple stripes through long dark, hair, but the maroon eyes appraising him unguardedly.
Eden took special note of this last one, given the way his skin had crawled, as he had walked past. Taking a seat alone in the rear, a third up from the end bench, he looked up the length of the vehicle to see the man's head turned towards him. The raven-haired youth narrowed his eyes, and the man looked away.
Eden frowned a moment, but looked away from the man, to his bag, bringing it over from his left side to his right, and pulling his phone out.
SHAWN: Your ass in my office, first thing.
The boy's brow lifted slightly, and he quickly tapped out a response.
EDEN: I'll be sure to wear those skimpy mesh trunks.
Smirking he sent it off, and waited. When there was no immediate reply, he snickered, and put his hand into his bag, to deposit his phone, but froze, as he noticed the man with the purple hair up the front watching him again. He tilted his head to the stranger, challengingly, and pursed his lips.
"Vampire," the lithe male murmured softly under his breath.
The unknown man's neck stiffened, and turned away, rigidly.
Eden smiled sage-like, and kept his hand concealed in his bag for the rest of the bus-journey home.
12860 Milton St.
The lithe young man shut the door to the apartment quietly, pausing with his hand on the handle a moment, as he gazed up the darkened hallway. Eden sighed wearily at the silence, slipping his bag from his shoulder to his hand, walking up the hallway without bothering to turn any lights on.
Ignoring the sidedoors in the hall, the blue-eyed male expertly navigated his way around a cluttering of large photo frames leaning against one wall, and exited out of the ending, into the master bedroom.
Floor to ceiling glass made up the opposite wall, lighting the room and revealing an attracting view of the street and city from twelve levels up. A king-sized water bed was set centerpiece in front of it, and took up the lion's share of the room's dimensions. The only other furnishing was a narrow oak lowboy pressed beside another doorway, leading to a walk-in closet and subsequent bathroom.
Eden made a line for the wooden surface, depositing his keys and bag from his hand, upon the top, which apart from a green, florescent alarm, held nothing else. Slipping a hand in his bag, he removed his silver phone and set it beside his keys, followed a moment later, by a large stainless steel pistol, an extra gun magazine, and a thin wallet.
The boy rolled his shoulders tenderly, and pulled off his black suit jacket as he made a path to the cupboard. The jacket was dropped haphazardly to the floor, and his fingers began to deftly pluck open his white dress shirt, letting it fall atop the jacket a moment later. Shoes and socks joined them shortly after.
Humming a tune softly to himself, the slender male, picked out an identical outfit from the clothes hooks, and hung them from the bathroom door handle, for the next day. Undoing his trousers, he stripped them off onto the pile of discarded wears, and left standing in nothing but his small, black boxer-briefs, which by this stage, held his flaccid organ quite comfortably. Stooping, he scooped up the load of wears, and deposited it all into a conveniently located dirty linens basket.
Task done, Eden ventured back to the water bed, and grabbed up an oversized pillow from the head and tossed it in the center. Looking down, his hands skated down the sensitive golden skin of his sides, brushing past his nipples, and slipping fingers past the band. A smooth motion drew down his tight trunks to the floor.
Naked, the youth climbed onto the bed, laying half atop the pillow that was larger than he was, and throwing a leg over.
Reaching back with a hand, the boy trailed the pads of his fingers down his back, to his cheeks, dipping two fingers into the space between.
Eden's hips rocked forward into the pillow, eyes flicking shut, as a visible shimmer of black traversed the length of his body, disappearing without a trace, as quickly as a passing shadow.
His eyes opened for a moment, showing that ice-blue colouring now possessed a strange florescent quality that seemed to almost give off their own light.
Drawing his fingers away from his entrance, the boy rested his head on the pillow surface, and hugged the fabric in a loose embrace, eyes drifting shut.
Tomorrow was another day.
AN: Not the end of the story, just the end of a chapter.
I know a few of you had been wanting me to do something longer, I actually have a few more multi-chapter stories that I'm working on, but this one's been toiling around the back of my mind for the past couple weeks, and will take priority for the moment, if only because I have enough of an idea of what I want to do with this one, to risk writing it out.
The format will have each chapter constituting the events of a single day, with seven days total. I thought I'd have a go starting out from a scene from day 7 in the final day, then flick backwards to the start of the night before day 1, i.e. day 0. Don't worry if nothing makes sense yet, hopefully it all will by the end.
As always, expect to find plenty of slash, sex and sordid stuff ahead.
And as always, any comments, feedback, reviews or constructive criticism is welcome and appreciated.
Until next time.