Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Beautiful Boys Are Dangerous - 1. Bad Boys Are Dangerous
The boy on the bus looked dangerous; but then all boys looked dangerous to Cyan, especially pretty ones. This one wasn’t pretty: he was beautiful. Cyan had never seen anyone so beautiful. It was as if he was sculpted from alabaster and not alive at all. It was a sunny day and no surprise that he was hiding from the glare behind a pair of reflective sunglasses: but he seemed to have been hiding from the sun too as his skin was milky pale.
To be honest, Cyan couldn’t actually see his face because it was screened by the blacker than black hair that fell in a straight, silky curtain to well below his shoulders. Cyan ran his hands through his spiky blonde hair and wished that he could grow it that long but it didn’t lie smooth like that; it was too curly.
A long pale hand, tipped with obsidian nails rose and slid through the black tumble and it cascaded from them like water from a poisoned stream.
Now why had he thought of that metaphor for such a beautiful thing? The boy’s hair was beautiful: mesmerising, so why had the image of corruption flown across his mind? He had half an idea that he knew why and shrank back in his seat. He had no desire to feel the eyes behind those glasses alight on him. Boys were dangerous. Beautiful boys were deadly and he was suddenly scared… but still he couldn’t tear his eyes away.
He watched, horror widening his eyes as the hand pushed aside the curtain and the glasses flashed as they oriented on him. He shrank back even further. The boy was dangerous, dangerous, dangerous. All boys were dangerous. Any one of them could turn at any time; hurt him like…
The beautiful boy took off the glasses and wiped moisture from his eyes. They were red rimmed and sore looking. For a moment they glanced up at Cyan; the most stunning electric blue he had ever seen. Realising just slightly too late that he was staring open-mouthed, he quickly turned his head away. Had he seen? Of course he had, he was looking right at him. What would he do? Would he make a scene? Would he hurt him?
He was scared, really scared; so scared that his heart was hammering in his chest. He wanted to run but that would be silly. Anyway, what was the point? If the boy didn’t catch him now he would catch him at some point. It was a small town and they were bound to run into each other again at some point.
Unless he was a visitor. Hope stabbed at him, only to be crushed immediately when he realised that it didn’t matter whether the boy lived here or not. He would talk. He would tell others what he had seen. He would laugh with them, mocking as he spoke… or disgusted and angry. They would soak it up, baying like hounds and they would eventually run him down… they always did.
Absently he stroked a long scar that ran from his elbow across his forearm to just above his wrist. He had been trying to protect his face. The scar across the top of his cheek was barely noticeable now, especially when his skin was brown from the sun.
When he glanced back the boy had let the hair fall again and had turned his head to look out of the window, the glasses firmly back in place. They were coming to the end of the bus route. Here, the bus would turn and make its way back down the valley. Cyan had to do the loop as the bus ran a circular route and to get where he wanted to go he had to go round three quarters of the circle.
Unable to tear his eyes away Cyan let them wander over the rest of the boy. He was sitting with one knee bent, his foot on the rail in front of him and the other straight out in front of him. They were long legs, well formed; encased in tight black jeans ending in leather boots with silver buckles. The raised leg and the fact that he was slouched in the seat accentuated the curve of his buttocks. His narrow waist was encircled by a wide leather belt into which was tucked a long sleeve cotton shirt. That alone was unusual on such a hot day.
All in all, the picture was one of graceful, careless ennui and dark, brooding energy that screamed sensuality and danger in equal measure. He was out of place in that dreary backwater, but if he noticed the stares and whispers he didn’t acknowledge them.
Cyan realised he was staring and that he must have had a hungry look in his eyes. This boy was like smoke and fire in his veins; a feast to a starving man. He screamed at himself inside his head to stop now, before it was too late; before SOMEONE noticed and caused a scene. He tried to turn away; tried to close his eyes but he always turned back.
Did the boy know he was staring? Did he care? There had been no glare, no accusation and, if anything he had slouched a little lower, turned his body a little towards the window to accentuate the curve of his hip. Cyan swallowed hard.
What if…NO. He quashed the thought before it had a chance to germinate and take hold. That was dangerous thinking and he wasn’t going to get caught like that again. It hurt too much. He had to force himself to look away. This was torture. Nevertheless he was ridiculously disappointed when the bus stopped at the last bus stop, just outside the gates of the big, white house. The house had been there for as long as Cyan could remember, as long as his grandmother could remember and she had been living in the village for a long time. For almost as long, it had been deserted. Peering casually through the gate Cyan could see that this was no longer the case.
“Oh,” Cyan gasped as the boy passed, his long fingers brushing over his knee for just a fraction of a second. Shocked he looked up to see the boy turn his head as he reached the door and smile a strange little smile that sent shivers through him. He watched as the boy languidly exited the bus and walked towards the gate. Just before he opened it and disappeared he turned and waved.
Cyan’s heart stopped.
Every day Cyan looked for the boy, but he didn’t see him again, not even when the bus stopped outside the white house. As the weeks passed hope faded and he sank into his self-imposed cocoon of solitude again.
Cyan’s friends had pretty much despaired of him a long time ago. They knew his secret, the source of his fear and the terrible events that had driven him so far inside himself that he was paralysed by the sheer terror he felt whenever a situation arose that might lead to a repeat. Mostly they let him be and were simply there for him, supporting, encouraging but never forcing. Sometimes it got too much and they made him go out.
Given that they never went out locally but always travelled to the city, Cyan was more relaxed. However, he still had his guard very much up and froze if a stranger even tried to talk to him. He was fine with girls but he was terrified of boys, so terrified that he panicked after the first word.
It was Saturday night and they had gone to a club they had never been to before. It was dark and cool and it felt safe. No one here knew him and the line between male and female seemed to have been blurred to the extent that he actually began to relax.
After three or four drinks he was relaxed enough to venture onto the dance floor, something that was usually unheard of and which made his friends smile. At last.
This was not the kind of club where people danced in couples; and if they did it was up close and personal. The music was hypnotic and Cyan found himself swaying, raising his arms and losing himself. With his eyes half closed the rest of the world passed him in a kaleidoscope of colour, ever shifting, blending, blurring.
Someone’s arm snaked around his waist from behind and he was drawn back against a broad, strong chest. He closed his eyes and let his head fall back. If he had been thinking at all he would have been amazed at how relaxed he was at the physical contact. Usually it would have had him running screaming in the opposite direction but here; now… He felt… safe.
He continued to sway to the music as his captor lowered his head and kissed him behind the ear. A shudder went through him and a spike of fear lanced upwards from his gut. What the hell was he doing? He was being kissed by a man. His eyes flew open and he struggled to release himself from the iron arm that pulled him inexorably into a suddenly sinister hold.
“Please… let me go.”
“What’s wrong little pussy cat?” a voice purred into his ear. It had a slight accent that Cyan couldn’t identify and didn’t care to try. “Do you not find Hellas to your liking? I can soon change that.” Once again the man planted a soft kiss on his neck, and then another and another, in a trail down towards his shoulder.
“No… please.” His voice came out in a whisper and he found himself growing weak. It was the fear; it had returned in full measure and was paralysing him.
“Let him go, Hellas. I think I heard him say ‘no’.” The voice was soft as velvet but with a hint of steel. The man who held Cyan immediately released his grip.
“As you wish,” he growled with begrudging and bitterly resented deference.
“Remember where you are. You have a fresh start here: don’t screw it up.” Now the steel in the velvet glove was clear and the man, Hellas, pushed Cyan so he stumbled and practically fell onto someone standing in front and to one side of him. Strong arms encircled him and supported him as he regained his balance. “Easy,” that same voice murmured in encouragement, the steel entirely erased.
Cyan raised his eyes and froze. The electric blue eyes which looked down into his were shockingly familiar. He felt his hopes soar and his stomach sink. Putting his hands on the boy’s shoulders he pushed gently away and the boy instantly released him with his arms but held him with his smile.
“Forgive my friend; he gets overexcited in large crowds.”
“Who… who are you?”
“Oh, I’m sorry; have I not introduced myself? How rude of me. My name is Gabriel. Forgive me but I am a stranger in these parts and it was such a pleasure to see a familiar face in this crowd.”
“F… familiar?”
“Yes, you are the boy from the bus aren’t you?”
He sounded to strong; so sure of himself. He would never run from who he was. Cyan was attracted and repelled at the same time.
“I… I… You remember?”
“Of course I do. It’s not often you meet beautiful strangers with eyes like the midnight sky... and so sad. That’s what I remember. You were so sad and so afraid.” He tilted his head as he spoke, his eyes, even in the smoky darkness, as bright as sapphires. Somehow Cyan was drawn into them and barely noticed when fingertips ran down the side of his face and a hand cupped his cheek. His eyelids drooped as he turned his head into the caress.
“Will you dance with me beautiful, sad boy?”
“I…” Cyan looked up quickly, suddenly alarmed by the contact. The blue eyes were full of gentle understanding and… something… else. “Please,” he whispered and not even he knew what he was begging for.
He gasped and shuddered when the beautiful face tilted downwards, the curtain of hair shutting them both off from the outside world. He struggled weakly when he realised that there was a hand in the small of his back pressing him gently but firmly against a long slender body but he stopped as soon as their lips met.
With a sigh, Cyan melted. Whatever resistance there might have been evaporated in the kiss and he forgot.
“Are you still sad?” the boy whispered against his lips.
“No.”
“Are you still afraid?”
“No.”
“Will you come home with me?”
“What? No.” Cyan broke the kiss and pulled back. The boy didn’t try to stop him. “What are you talking about? I… I think I’d better go.”
“Won’t you just dance with me? Just one dance?”
“I…”
“Just one?”
“Just… just one.”
Smiling Gabriel drew him back into his arms but this time made no attempt to kiss him. Their bodies seemed to fit and Cyan found the mixture of the music, the gentle swaying, the heat of the body pressed against his and the musky smell of the cologne Gabriel was wearing, to be intoxicating in the extreme. For a moment he stared into Gabriel’s eyes, his mind whirling, but then Gabriel smiled tenderly and Cyan returned it with a tentative one of his own. Slowly he relaxed and let his head fall forward onto Gabriel’s shoulder and Gabriel held him closer.
“I…”
“Ssh; don’t talk, just dance.”
It was hardly a dance. They barely moved; just a gentle sway like reeds in a light wind, but it… or maybe Gabriel, possessed him so that everything else seemed to melt away.
“Will you come home with me?”
“No.” Cyan was jerked out of his pleasant dream and crashed back into reality. “What are you trying to do?”
“Push my luck,” he said with a grin, showing very white teeth. Cyan found himself mirroring it and relaxing again.
“Then don’t; because if you say that again I am going to leave.”
“Oh, don’t leave me alone. My arms will be so cold without you,” Gabriel said with a pout that just couldn’t last long before the smile broke through. Cyan couldn’t help but laugh.
“Just don’t say that again.”
“Alright, I won’t… but if at any time you feel that you want to say it then go ahead.”
“I…” Cyan was confused. This was… not right. He didn’t do things like this because he was too scared about where it was going to lead… and until now the thing that he had been most afraid of was that it would end in ridicule, rejection, or even violence. The really scary thing about this time was that he was scared that it wouldn’t.
While he was thinking Gabriel had started to sway again and Cyan let his head, which was now aching at the dozens of emotions that assailed it, rest on Gabriel’s shoulder, although he turned his face away
“Ssh,” Gabriel said softly. “It will be alright.” Strangely, Cyan believed him.
The song ended and flowed seamlessly into the next. Cyan didn’t notice. At some point Gabriel’s lips touched the back of his neck and he rolled his head as they made their way to the joint of his shoulder and neck. He shivered with pleasure as the tip of Gabriel’s tongue began to lick the sweat from his skin.
“Will you come home with me?” Gabriel whispered, his teeth grazing Cyan’s throat.
“No,” he whispered. “Please… no.” But he had no will to push away, to fight. He was aware that he ought to be running away but there was no fear to spur him on; no desire but the need to be held and kissed.
Cyan’s legs were shaking so badly that they could barely support him. He had never, ever, experienced anything like this. His last, fumbling, pathetic attempt at a kiss had ended in disaster and he had never tried again. But this kiss… this kiss was… He moaned softly and shuddered when Gabriel bit him lightly on the neck, just below his jawline and then repeated the gentle nip on his jaw, nuzzling Cyan’s ear with his nose. Cyan moaned again and would have slipped from his arms if Gabriel had not held on tight.
Cyan had never felt so aroused and out of control. The evidence of his excitement was throbbing between them as Gabriel’s hips swayed, brushing lightly against him. It was almost painful but so, so liberating; especially when Gabriel’s hand slipped down and, gripping his buttock firmly, pulled him in, hard against him while he raised his head and repossessed his lips in a much deeper kiss.
Cyan arched his back and moaned more loudly, half expecting censure from all sides but no one paused, no one seemed to notice them. Desperately he threw his arms around Gabriel’s neck and buried his hands in the glorious hair that was as soft as it had seemed. He felt Gabriel’s lips curl against his own.
Pressed tightly against Gabriel all along his body Cyan found it hard to breathe. He had to close his eyes against the spinning lights and all sounds seemed to fade as he surrendered himself completely to the kiss.
After a while Gabriel broke the kiss and pressed his lips against Cyan’s ear. “Will you come home with me?” he whispered.
“Yes… oh God yes… I’ll go anywhere with you.”
“Yes, you will,” Gabriel whispered and, releasing his body he took Cyan by the hand and led him through the crowd, which seemed to part to let them pass. Cyan felt drunk: the lights, sounds, smells; the heat of the crowd, the swirling mass of bodies, all combined to make a heady mixture that thoroughly intoxicated him to the extent that he lost all sense of reality and followed Gabriel blindly and mindlessly.
He was briefly aware of speaking with his friends but had no idea what was said and then revived slightly when the cool air of the street hit him.
“Where are we going?”
“Home.”
“Where do you live?”
“You know where I live.”
“In the white house.”
“If that’s what you call it. Come on… my car is parked just over here.”
When they reached the car Gabriel pressed him against it and kissed him again. In the middle of the kiss he looked up and the stars overhead spun against their background of deepest blue velvet.
“Help me,” he whispered and had no idea who he was asking or what help he needed.
“Help you do what?” Gabriel murmured with a smile.
“I don’t know. I don’t… I…” His words were lost in a whimper as Gabriel ground his hips into him, pinning him against the car.
“Ssh, Cyan. It’s alright. You’re safe with me.”
“Safe?”
“Always.”
Cyan groaned and let his head fall back as Gabriel nuzzled against his throat…
… and he opened his eyes to Gabriel shaking him awake.
“Cyan… Cyan, we’re home. Come on sleepy, you’ve slept the whole way.”
“I… I have?” Cyan was confused. The last thing he remembered was being kissed in the car park. He had no memory of getting into the car or of any of the journey. Shaking his head he got out of the car and stood up, stretching. “Wow, it’s a beautiful night.”
The stars were far brighter here, without the pollution of the city lights. They were scattered carelessly over the sky. Gabriel came up behind him and slid his arms around his waist. Resting his head against Cyan’s he pointed out constellations, some that Cyan had never heard of.
Eventually he shivered and Gabriel pulled away, taking his hand. “You’re getting cold. Come on, I’ll show you my lair.”
A flash of fear blinded him for a moment but Gabriel, seeming to know what he was feeling, brushed his hair away from his neck and kissed him, just once, behind the ear. Cyan gasped and, as if in a dream allowed himself to be led into the house he had always been curious about. It was cool and dim inside. The windows were covered with dark red velvet drapes and the muted light came from a smoky chandelier which hung suspended over the hall.
Cyan didn’t have much time to look around because Gabriel strode straight across the hall and up the rather grand staircase. At the top he turned right and opened a door into darkness.
“Hang on; I’ll just put the light on.”
The light was subtle and dim. As he crossed the threshold Cyan felt as if he had stepped into another world.
The room was large, larger than the whole top floor of his own house. The furnishings were understated and smelled of new wood. Pictures hung on the walls depicting dark scenes of shipwrecks and castles perched on crags, high over stormy seas. The same dark red drapes covered the windows and the colour was repeated in the hangings and covers of the enormous four poster bed.
“Wow, I’ve never seen a bed like that before, it’s amazing.”
Gabriel laughed. “Shall I tell you a secret? No… better, I’ll show you.” Taking his hand again Gabriel led Cyan across the room and pulled one of the drapes away from the bed post. It was some kind of raw two by four, pale in colour and rough in texture. “It’s not as grand as it seems,” Gabriel laughed. “To be honest I would have preferred something smaller and of better quality but I wasn’t responsible for the shopping.”
“Who was?” Cyan asked automatically and quickly qualified. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.”
“That’s okay. My sister and her family bought and decorated the house. They got in a bit of trouble so I came over to help them out until they get themselves out of it.” There was something in the way he said it that made Cyan desperate to ask what kind of trouble but he refrained as it really wasn’t any of his business. “This was always going to be my room but I didn’t think I’d be staying in it this soon or for this long.”
“How… how long will you be here?”
“As long as I’m needed,” he said softly and took Cyan into his arms again. This time there were no thoughts of escape as Cyan melted into the kiss.
“Gabriel… I…” Cyan was shivering and weak. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could stay on his feet. He was breathing fast but shallow and was dizzy but oh God wasn’t it in the best possible way. He wanted more. He needed more.
“Ssh, I know… I know… lie down.”
Obediently Cyan let himself fall onto the bed and Gabriel lay down on the other side, pulling him into his arms. This is when he should have been frightened; when he should have run… but he wasn’t and he didn’t. For the first time in a very long time he felt safe. He felt wanted and loved and safe.
“You’ll always be safe with me,” Gabriel whispered and then stopped. Cyan cracked open his eyes to see a strange puzzled expression on his face. He echoed the frown and it melted into a smile. “Hush now, little one. Close your eyes and let me in.”
Cyan was confused but readily complied. With a sigh he closed his eyes and let go. He felt completely relaxed and almost dreamy; so light he could practically feel himself lifting from the bed, especially when Gabriel’s hand started to explore his body.
Whimpering and moaning Cyan squirmed and arched as Gabriel explored every inch of him; kissing him and rubbing his cheek against the hot skin on his stomach.
Cyan suddenly found himself naked. How the heck had that happened? A tiny worm of concern wriggled in his mind. That was the second time something had happened without him having any memory of how. He was about to raise his head to speak to Gabriel about it but that was when Gabriel flicked him with the tip of his tongue then swallowed him and thoughts had no further place in his head.
Gabriel tortured him. There was no other word for it. Tease was way too mild a word, and he passed torment right after he raised his head, letting Cyan slide out of him and then kissed his way slowly up his belly and over his chest. Now he was teasing one of his nipples and that was torture.
“Please,” he moaned. “Gabriel, please.”
“Please what, baby? What do you want?”
“I… I… please…”
Gabriel’s lithe body snaked its way up between his legs until their lips met again. Cyan couldn’t concentrate on his lips though, not when the rest of his body was setting his gut on fire.
“Surely you haven’t gone off my kisses too quickly.”
“No… no I…”
“Ssh, it’s alright… I know what you want. You want release.”
“Yes, oh yes, I do… please…”
Slowly Gabriel teased his lips nipping at the bottom one and flicking them with his tongue. “I can do that. I can release you. Are you sure that’s what you want?”
“Sure? I… yes… yes I’m sure.”
Gabriel raised his head and paused for a moment, braced on his hands which lay either side of Cyan’s face. “Are you scared of me?”
“Scared? Why would I be… I…? Well… not scared but there’s something… I’m…not easy.”
“Not easy?”
“Not easy with you… not entirely comfortable.”
“Oh, I see.” Gabriel was frowning and it made the feeling of unease grow in Cyan.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing… nothing’s wrong it’s just…” Shifting his weight to one hand Gabriel stroked Cyan’s face with the other. Cyan sighed and closed his eyes. “You are so beautiful, and I don’t mean on the outside. I know you have been hurt; you bear the scars everywhere, and you are afraid of everything and everyone but… There’s just something about you; something pure and golden and I don’t want… I don’t want to spoil it.”
With a hesitant smile Cyan reached up to run his hands through the curtains of silk. It was so soft and he got lost in it, forgetting what he was going to say. Gabriel sighed, but it was a sad sigh. “I suppose… I suppose I really have to finish it now. I can’t just drop you in the middle, can I?” He didn’t say it with much conviction and Cyan found himself wondering what he had done wrong.
“What did I do?”
“Do?”
“Have I upset you? Why do you suddenly look…?”
“Oh. I see. No, you haven’t upset me; far from it. I want to… I want to… I just want to look at you, and touch you, and care for you, and make you safe… and I have never felt that way about anyone, ever before. I’m just… I’m not sure how to handle it.”
Cyan smiled and it made Gabriel’s eyes turn dark as if he was in pain. “Just kiss me.”
Gabriel stared at him, at the trembling hand buried in his hair. He closed his eyes and moaned deeply then he granted Cyan’s request.
This time the teasing kisses progressed from his lips to his throat and shoulder. At the same time Gabriel caressed him and awoke a burning fire in his body again. Very quickly Cyan became lost in the flames, his awareness of what was happening on the outside evaporating into the torturous consummation of his body and soul.
Writhing under Gabriel’s body and his caress Cyan gasped for breath and trembled more and more with every touch, every stroke, every….
Cyan’s world was one of nothing but sensation. He had never experienced anything like it before. He was going through total sensual overload and there was more on its way. He could feel the fire building in his belly and it was a matter of moments before it would erupt like a volcano. But in the depths of his passion something happened that changed everything. Cyan couldn’t have said what it was; couldn’t have identified exactly what had suddenly gone so wrong but there was no pleasure in the impending climax only a pain that was so profound his mind could not rationalise it as pain at all.
It was as if his soul had been torn and, although there was pain, as soon as it was realised it was merely a memory of pain come and gone. Something was happening inside him that had his head filled with stars and his limbs with lead. Even as the tide rose panic rose with it and, as his body convulsed in orgasm his mind and soul screamed ‘No.’
He almost passed out. He should have passed out. He refused. Something was happening; something bad and he knew it. He knew that if he surrendered his consciousness he would never find it again. This was more than just passing out, more than just sex… more, so much more.
“Gabriel… Gabriel please…” His voice was so weak, like the rest of him. He tried to push against Gabriel’s chest but he had no strength in his arms. He was floating and there was such a sense of detachment, of unreality, that he wasn’t even sure that he had moved them at all or even that they were his arms to move.
His eyes flickered open and all he could see was darkness. He could smell something, sharp and metallic. He could taste it too even though there was nothing in his mouth.
“No… oh no, please.” He struggled with every last shred of strength that was in him and it was precious little. “Please.” Tears were running from the corners of his eyes as his hands fell to his sides and he stopped moving. He could feel it now; his life slipping away. He was dying and he knew it. But he wasn’t going quietly.
“Please Gabriel; please don’t do this. You said… you said you wanted to protect me; to keep me safe. Please… please keep me safe. Keep me safe Gabriel. Don’t kill me. Please don’t kill me.”
There was a moment when the whole of creation paused and held its breath. And then everything came crashing down on him as Gabriel raised his head and looked down at him, a vision born in hell.
Gabriel’s eyes were wide and fevered; the electric blue more vibrant than ever. His face was pale but there was a flush in his cheeks that was more colour than Cyan had yet seen there. But the brightest colour of all was the crimson blood that coated his lips, ran over his chin and dripped from the needle sharp fangs that seemed to have come from nowhere.
“I’m sorry,” Gabriel whispered. “I have to finish this.”
“Please.” Cyan refused to panic, or to beg. He simply lay still and said. “You said I was safe. I believed you. I have been fooled before… hurt; let down; abused… but I thought you were different. You promised to keep me safe.”
“And I will. No one will ever hurt you again. No one will betray you. Nothing will touch you. You will have peace.”
“No… not like this, never like this. There will be no peace and I will find a way…” He closed his eyes and sighed, his strength waning. “You promised,” he whispered with his last breath and it all slipped away from him.
Gabriel tilted his head to one side and watched the boy fade. He should have killed him; he really should have killed him.
- 23
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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