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It was already, to put it mildly, not Leon’s best day.
His shift had barely ended an hour ago, where he and his partner had botched a stakeout badly enough that the suspect had gotten away. Slipped right by them, right through their damn hands. The chief had chewed their ears off for the better part of an hour about that one.
Given his mood, the last thing he wanted to be doing was making his way through the winding streets of Chinatown, towards Count D’s pet shop. But he’d promised Chris they’d spend time together today and he’d be damned if he didn’t make good on that promise.
Finding the right street was practically instinct by now. Wisps of smoke trailed through the air after him as he chain-smoked and navigated to the familiar storefront.
A bell at the door jingled as Leon let himself inside. Count D glanced up at the noise, his face shifting into a placid smile.
“Why, hello detective. You’re having an early morning, I see. To what do I owe your unexpected visit today?”
Leon frowned at how chipper D seemed and responded in kind with a careless shrug. “More of an especially late night. Is Chris around?”
“Chris is playing with T-chan, but I can try and go find him.”
“No, no, whatever,” Leon waved him off dismissively. “I don’t want to interrupt if he’s having fun.”
Leon dropped down into one of the soft chairs beside the hardwood table D normally reserved for serving tea. Usually crawling with animals, this morning Leon’s only company was a slightly put-off looking cat, kneading at the fabric of the armrest with a hint of malice.
Count D crossed the length of the room to approach Leon directly. As usual, he was dressed in his traditional cheongsam; often he wore more intricate, patterned designs but today he was draped from head to toe in a deep crimson. Leon couldn’t help but recall a bit of advice he’d heard about the brightest colored spiders always being the most dangerous. His eyes shone bright with something bordering on amusement.
“My, my detective, you seem rather wound up today. Is something the matter?”
“Like I said, it’s been a late night. And a long one.” Leon breathed out one final stream of smoke and stubbed the cigarette out on a delicate and rather old looking saucer. Count D raised a disapproving eyebrow but made no comment.
“Luckily, I was just about to put on some tea. Stay if you’d like - I’m sure Chris will turn up soon.”
Leon let out a frustrated sigh as D disappeared from the room. Too antsy to sit, he wandered the shop’s interior. The place looked more like a fancy tea room than a legitimate pet store - not that Leon was particularly convinced it was legitimate. It was, for better or worse, where Chris spent most of his time, so Leon tried to be keen on what he saw around the store. It felt especially empty today. No animals crawling around. No customers. No Chris.
The quiet unnerved him for some reason. Or maybe he was having an exceptionally bad day and it was leading him to imagine things. He shrugged off the feeling. Hearing the clink of glassware from the next room, he returned to his seat.
Count D re-entered the room, tray of tea and plates piled high with what appeared to be cake in hand. He set the contents down on the small table and poured from the ornate teapot. Steam rose from his cup and the room was filled with an earthy scent.
Before Leon could even reach for his cup, there was a low rumbling. This was followed by a loud crash from further back in the store. He was half out of his seat, hand on his hip where his gun holster sat, but D’s face remained impassive, with an infuriating half-smile.
“What the hell was that?” Leon gasped.
“A couple of the newer additions to the store,” Count D said, while adding several lumps of sugar to his tea. “They can get a bit riled up, especially when it’s mating time. It’s really quite fascinating to observe.”
Leon had little interest in D’s usual waxing poetic about his weird animals, but there was something almost expectant in his voice today. He took his seat, lifted the delicate teacup and allowed the aroma to waft pleasantly through his senses.
“Geez, D, I don’t need all of the details of your weird pets and their sex lives.”
“Well since you barged in and interrupted my day, I thought you might as well learn something,” D’s voice rang with mild annoyance. His eyes searched from over the rim of his teacup. As if he was expecting Leon to say something. Or that he wanted to take a bite out of him. It was hard to tell sometimes, with Count D.
Count D pushed one of the small plates towards him, topped with a decadent-looking cake with fluffy pink frosting and thick cream filling the center. Leon remembered stuffing one or two - maybe more - of the stale poppy seed bagels in the break room into his mouth before taking off from the office and his stomach gave a painful lurch.
“Ugh, no thanks, I think I’m good.”
“Suit yourself.”
Agitated and not in the mood for D’s evasive games, Leon downed the rest of his tea in a single gulp. It burned hot on his tongue and a strange aftertaste lingered in his mouth.
“What did you say this was?”
“I didn’t. It’s a special blend, imported. Do you like it?”
Leon didn’t answer; his mind was beginning to feel a bit fuzzy, clouded over. Must have been the heat in the shop, it was practically tropical. Was this part of what he meant by ‘special conditions’? He tugged at the collar of his shirt to try and cool off. Failing that, he stood from his seat and took a tentative step forward.
“Are you all right?” Count D called over to him. His voice echoed, both more distant and richer than usual; the sound made his skin prickle.
“I think I need to get some air. I’m feeling kinda dizzy.”
Leon’s mind raced and - even stranger - his body felt like it was firing on all cylinders. He staggered back to his seat, tried to think. Count D watched him, impassive. His hands circled his own teacup, which was still full.
“What did you put in this, D?”
“Detective, do you suspect me of something?”
Leon wanted to push it further, but something stopped him. It couldn’t be that he trusted D’s word, or thought higher of him, but it was a more reasonable explanation than trying to figure out why he couldn’t stop staring at D’s mouth, the feminine curve of his lips. He cursed aloud and looked away.
“Well I’m feeling like death and just drank some of your tea.”
Count D laid a cool hand against his feverish forehead. Every nerve in Leon’s body was on fire and the cold relief of D’s skin made Leon swallow back a groan of appreciation. That managed to stifle the sound down to whimper which only made it worse.
“That’s not… I mean, unless...” His face had shifted from surprise, to a puzzled amusement.
“Unless?”
“I don’t mean to pry, detective, or make any implications about your recreational use of certain illicit substances, but the tea can interact with small amounts of opium.”
“What? Of course I’m not-” Leon exclaimed before he quickly cut himself off. His mind drifted back to the bagels from just a few hours ago. He cursed under his breath.
“I see. Well, in that case you should probably follow me.”
Leon followed. Not because he trusted Count D’s intentions, and certainly not, he assured himself, because the way he moved was like a lure drawing him closer. If he played along, he could get some answers. Leon stared at his feet. He led Leon to a room further back into the store; Leon never could get a good gauge on the size of the place. The room was simple, possibly a spare bedroom as all it seemed to contain were the shelves lining the walls and a bed.
“What are we doing here?”
“I thought you could use some discretion while you recover from the side effects. This may take some time. You might want to lie down.” He motioned towards the bed and Leon groaned, but moved over to sit down on the edge anyway. He tugged at his collar again, but the stifling heat didn’t lessen. Without thinking, he pulled his shirt over his head and cast it aside.
“I can’t believe you fed me that poison. Can I at least get a cold shower?”
“It’s perfectly safe, and you’re certainly not going to die from it.”
“Okay, so you’re keeping something like that in the shop? Where my brother could possibly get into it?” At this, D finally did laugh.
“Not hazardous, really, just uncomfortable. Its effects should be fairly obvious by now.”
Up until this point, Leon had been ignoring the growing arousal stirring through him. The way his jeans were straining was humiliating. He noticed his discarded shirt balled up on the floor and looked away. Heat rose into Leon’s cheeks that he assured himself was his rightful anger and he spat out an answer in contempt.
“How long does it last?” He didn’t look up; he couldn’t quite make himself meet Count D’s eyes.
“Unfortunately, it’s not so simple. The effects won’t fade until you’ve…” Count D paused, gave Leon a measured stare. “Met the conditions sufficiently. In other words, the only way out is through.”
“What does through mean exactly?”
In response, Leon found himself nose-to-nose with D, in a fierce, aggressive kiss that hit him like a sucker punch and knocked the wind out of him just as surely.
D’s kiss tasted sweet and slightly floral, like rose candies melting on his tongue. Before Leon could feel properly horrified at knowing what D tasted like, D’s hands were traveling down his bare torso, pressing him down into the mattress, and his objections faded away.
Another surge of heat, arousal, and desperation hit him like a tidal wave. He offered no resistance as D slid his jeans down past his hips, leaving him disarmed entirely. He was almost grateful for the second kiss, it kept his mind too occupied to notice D’s hand making its way between his legs.
Leon shivered as D gave his cock a gentle, experimental squeeze.
Leon bucked his hips forward to meet him, his head spinning and his mind shouting conflicting messages. They blared through his head like a siren, something he couldn’t ignore. That he couldn’t believe he was letting Count D touch him like this, that he should push him away and put an end to it.
But mostly, it kept screaming more .
And it felt so good to be touched, like nothing he’d ever experienced before with a woman or by himself, and he chased that sensation.
Count D’s fingers moved nimbly along Leon’s lower back. They inched lower, until D was fully cupping his ass. Slowly, he slipped a finger inside, and Leon snapped back to attention.
“Wait, hold on, what are you-” he sputtered, briefly returning to his senses.
Verbally, he protested the intrusion, but his body seemed to disagree. Even as he spoke, he instinctively arched his back to allow for more and the Count obliged. What had initially been uncomfortable soon filled him with a wave of pleasure as Count D thrust in, deep, and hit something new inside of him.
He closed his eyes to isolate the feeling from the situation. It must have only been a moment. Long enough that Count D pulled back, Leon already felt nearly spent and opened his eyes, bleary and heavy-lidded.
Count D stood at the edge of the bed, his cock already stiff with attention as he climbed back on top of him. Leon wasn’t sure when D had shed his clothing, but he could feel all of D’s cool smooth skin against his body. The Count’s cheongsam lay forgotten behind him in a crimson heap.
D’s hands became more forceful in their movements, and with a strength Leon didn’t even know he possessed, he parted Leon’s thighs. By the time he’d positioned himself between them and Leon realized what was happening, it was already too late to pull back.
Count D, who had been so calm and collected just minutes ago, now regarded him with a gleam in his eyes Leon had never seen.
A short burst of pain overtook him as Count D thrust forward. And despite the fact that the intrusion had taken him so off guard, that initially there had only been the blinding white of pain across his vision, Leon’s cock ached with need. He reached for it, stroked it desperately, trying to match D’s motions.
D pulled back out of him, and Leon swallowed, hard, fixing his hazy vision. There was barely a hair out of place framing Count D’s face, but a hint of pink touched his cheeks - the only sign of exertion.
For fuck’s sake, he was beautiful like this, and Leon was only just realizing it.
“What are you - why did you-?” Leon panted, not wanting to finish that sentence, not wanting to have to admit he was frustrated with the sudden stillness.
“Why did you stop?” he finished finally.
“Would you like me to continue?” the lilt in his voice wasn’t mocking but there was a challenge in it. Leon didn’t have the patience left to fight with him and most of his shame had evaporated by now.
“Please,” he half-whispered.
Count D pushed inside of him once more. Leon threw his head back in a relieved moan, and D’s mouth found its way to his neck, sinking his teeth into the column of Leon’s throat.
They found a rhythm, like their bodies were synchronizing with each other. The heat throughout Leon’s body contrasted with the cool porcelain of Count D’s touch. D pulled out briefly to reposition and Leon suddenly found himself bent over the edge of the mattress. The vague humiliation of such an exposing position was soon quelled. Another movement of D’s hips and Leon had to bury his face into the sheet to muffle the moan it drew out of him.
D’s nails, clawlike now, made several indelicate imprints against his skin, threatening to break through and spill blood. Jesus, had they always been this sharp?
Moreover, Leon realized, the arousal straining between his legs more than ever, that the idea of D breaking his skin excited him.
Fuck, what was happening to him?
Another wave of pleasure rushed over him from D thrusting into him at just the right angle and Leon reached for his erection, desperate for release.
Flashes of sensation passed through him. The aroma of incense, tea, flowers. The view of D’s face, the impossibly black pits of his eyes. Count D made a sound that was part purr and part growl, all animal. He pushed in one more time and came, Leon’s hand working furiously along the length of his cock.
Leon came shouting, and everything else fell away from his mind. Even then, when his orgasm crested, darkness swallowed him and he let himself be carried away by it.
When Leon came to, he wasn’t sure where he was. It took several seconds to remember that he was still in the shop. He was still undressed, though covered by a thin sheet and his clothes were folded carefully next to him. His head hurt. Hell, everything hurt. He shifted a little and his back screamed in protest. A brief memory of Count D’s nails dragging along the ridges of his spine occurred to him and he groaned, moving back onto his side.
This was one hell of a hangover, or whatever the equivalent would be. Finding a different word would require more thinking and Leon didn’t care to do that. He closed his eyes, exhausted and ready to pass out again.
A cold, wet pressure prodded at him from behind, right along the point of the welts. Leon reached back, to shoo away whatever animal had intruded on his space, and instead his fingers grasped loosely around someone’s wrist.
“You should let me take care of those.”
Leon glanced back over his shoulder and Count D was looking down at him, washcloth in one hand and a jar of some kind of cream in the other. He didn’t know whether to be embarrassed or furious, so he settled somewhere in between.
“What are you doing now?”
“Don’t worry, this is just ointment. For the cuts. It’s nothing you’ll react to, I promise.”
“Well, you are the one who did the damage,” Leon huffed. “It’s the least you could do.”
“I’ll admit I let myself get… carried away,” Count D said. His voice was level and his face showed nothing as he concentrated on dabbing the cloth back into whatever ointment he’d brought with him.
Leon turned back around and Count D worked in silence for several long minutes. It was almost peaceful. The ointment was cold and soothing and the Count’s gentle motions as he applied it created an easy rhythm.
“So, is this whole thing… done?”
Count D paused his movements.
“I suppose it should be.”
Leon didn’t mention that his revelation of Count D’s beauty hadn’t abated, that the feeling of his hands was still prickling beneath his skin. He could worry about that later; Count D didn’t need to know about any of that just yet.