Smoke Dance

by Samantha Cayto

  Startled, Elliot sloshed his drink. “I’m fine.”

  Yeah? Once more with feeling, dude. “Are you sure? You seem upset.”

  Elliot gave him the side-eye and nodded. “Of course. It’s just my therapy. That’s all. I wish it was making better progress, but the congressman tells me that I’m too hard on myself. These things take time.”

  Elliot crushed the cup with his fist and threw it in the waste basket. The aggressive move was totally out of character, as was his next question and the tone he used to ask it. “What are you doing here? You usually go straight to our room.”

  He must have realized the harshness of his question and switched to his usual helpful self. “Are you, ah, socializing more? Because that’s great if you are. Being with other boys, having wholesome fun, is a major step in your rehabilitation.”

  For God sake’s, Elliot, give it a rest. He didn’t say that out loud, of course. “I thought maybe I’d enjoy the movie, but…” He shrugged. “I don’t like sports much.”

  “You should learn to. It’s what—”

  “Real men do,” he said in unison with the guy. “Yeah, I know. Look,” he added with a sigh, “why don’t we turn in? I know I’m bushed, and you seem to have had enough for one day, too.”

  He didn’t even wait for any kind of capitulation. He simply took his roommate by the arm and led him to their room. Elliot didn’t give so much as a token struggle against it. He was completely docile as Damien escorted him to what little sanctuary that they possessed.

  Sitting on his bed, he watched Elliot undress with slow, jerky movements. “Dude, are you sure you’re okay, because you kind of look like Rocky after losing to Apollo Creed. Minus the bruises, of course.” Except the guy’s lips looked kind of puffy.

  “I told you I’m fine,” Elliot snapped.

  Damien put his hands up. “Okay, dude, whatever you say.”

  Once again, Earnest Elliot returned. “I appreciate your concern, but really, you should focus on your own recovery.”

  Damien had to hand it to the place. They’d totally coopted the strategies and buzz-words of addiction treatment. They really hammered at the idea of sexual orientation being a disease. Damien would have made some kind of appeasement if Elliot hadn’t winced once he sat on his own bed. He’d recovered immediately, trying to turn that frown upside down.

  “It’s good of you to worry about me. Congressman Warren has that burden. And I know what I have to work on to make myself wholly well.”

  “Sure, whatever you say.” There was no point in pushing it. Not yet. Damien was now certain that he’d found a weakness. The only question was how to discover fully what was going on without hurting Elliot. The kid was a pawn, another kind of victim.

  “Thank you. Goodnight.” Elliot slid under the covers without bothering to wash his face or brush his teeth, testament to how exhausted he truly was.

  “Peace out, dude.”

  Within minutes, Elliot was tucked in and breathing deeply. Damien resisted the lure of joining him. Glancing at his watch, he was glad to see he had only two hours to wait before he could sneak out to see Will. The thought of it made him smile. He believed he had something finally of use, perhaps. Plus, the thought of what Will had in store for him made him hard. As therapy went, a blow job was a great way to end his day.

  * * * *

  Will silently had a meltdown as he stared at his phone, excoriating it for not showing any text from Damien. It was more than thirty minutes past their rendezvous time. His hands shook from the effort not to text his lover to see if he was okay. A parade of horrors marched across his brain, where in each vignette, Damien suffered more and worse agonies. The boy was never late. If anything, Will had been the one to frequently apologize for tardiness, driven by this push-me-pull-you loop he was in. Val had been right about his being unable to keep this up for much longer. But unless and until Alex agreed to pull Damien out of this torture chamber or Annika managed to finish maturing in the next twelve hours, he would have to.

  And still, no text. Will was seconds away from rising and storming the building when his phone vibrated.

  Coming. Sorry!

  When Damien arrived a few minutes later, Will didn’t give him a chance to say a word. He grabbed him and brought him down in a controlled tumble to the ground, attacking his mouth—and his everything else. Will didn’t give a good damn about information or keeping cum off his boy. His. Boy. He wanted Damien to smell like him. Will wanted to drench the kid in his scent. A drumbeat of ‘mine, mine, mine’ replaced the scenes of torture in his head.

  He tore off their clothing, enough to expose the necessary parts, that was. Buttons popped and he might have broken Damien’s zipper in his haste. Too damn bad. He’d buy him a thousand other pairs and didn’t care what Earnest Elliot, as Damien’s roommate was known, might notice. He had some presence of mind to pull a condom out of his pocket, and at the last second, regained more sense with the ebbing of his fears. So he covered Damien’s dick instead of his own and sat on it.

  “Oh fuck!” Damien’s newly liberated mouth uttered the exclamation in a hoarse whisper.

  Will silenced him with his tongue, doubled over as he rode the human’s cock with punishing strokes. He ripped his shirt in two to get a clear path to his own dick. He jerked himself hard and fast. As he came, he clenched his hole, tugging Damien’s shaft on a long upswing. His efforts sent his lover over the edge with him. Damien arched into the stroke at the same time as Will dropped down completely. It caused him to lose touch with the boy’s mouth, but he simply couldn’t resist grinding the last of his climax out of him. Will stayed seated on the cock long after the spasms eased for both of them.

  God, he wanted to bend over again, not to reclaim Damien’s lips but to sink his fangs into the boy’s neck. Not doing so was something like a death, denying him the essence of life. But he had some control left, barely. So he settled again for placing his lips over the jugular, although he was careful not to leave a mark. Mustn’t leave any love bites. Fuck, this whole thing sucks. He had half a mind to march inside and rip Bran’s throat out and be done with it. And why the hell not? He’d leave behind a pile of unidentifiable dust and whatever clothes he found the fucker in.

  Problem. Solved. Except that would make him like Val, and even Dracul, to some degree. They were creatures of the hive and not wired to act independently as rogues who were only interested in what made them happy. Besides, how horrible would it be for Damien? Such an act wouldn’t go unnoticed. Damien would stick to his side if he tried such a stunt. He’d learn Will’s true nature and that would probably lead him to be horrified or disgusted. Will wouldn’t have to worry about someone else taking Damien from him. He’d make the boy go screaming as far from him as possible.

  No. Killing Bran here and now would only serve Will’s interests and no one else’s. So, he didn’t.

  “Don’t scare me like that,” he whispered into Damien’s ear once he had his breath back.

  Damien grabbed him in a bear hug. “I’m sorry. I fell asleep.”

  Will kissed him. “I was scared shitless for you. This is madness. I have to get you out of here. I don’t care what Alex says. You don’t have to do this.” Yeah, it was an indirect way of achieving his goals. Damien wasn’t of the hive. He had his own agency in this.

  He eased off of his lover, careful to keep any and all bodily fluids away from the human.

  Sitting, Damien grinned. “That was totally awesome. I feel really bad about scaring you like I did, but holy fuck, dude, that was some wild ride.”

  Okay, that was a bit of a dodge. Not exactly an You’re absolutely right, I’m checking myself out of this madhouse right the fuck now.

  Damien’s face morphed into a frown. “Did you hurt yourself? I mean, you didn’t use any lube.”

  More dodging. Will had felt the burn, but it had been nothing. “I’m fine. Really.” He emphasized his answer with a fierce kiss.

  Damien melted into his embrace.
“I guess I figured you as a total top. I was wondering if I was going to get a chance at having your ass.”

  Will inhaled deeply. “I like variety. No set rules. I’m glad you enjoyed it. I-I couldn’t help myself. No blow job was going to do it for me.”

  “No complaints here, dude. Plus you made sure I don’t return to my room stinking of sex.”

  A growl escaped Will. “Such madness. As if what two consenting adults could be doing is anyone else’s business.”

  “Preaching to the choir, my man. The suckitude of this place is off the charts. It’s making poor Elliot more miserable every day.”

  “I can’t help him. You can’t, either. He has to want to leave here. In the meantime, I don’t suppose I can talk you into leaving?”

  “No effing way, Will. I volunteered for this because it matters, not only to your family but to kids like Elliot. It’s personal now that I’ve seen the damage they’re doing. I want to shutter this place for good.”

  Will knew when to retreat in a fight. “Okay, I hear you. Is there is anything you know that we can use to accomplish that?”

  Damien shook his head, then changed halfway through to a nod. “Maybe. Something’s going on with Elliot.”

  “I know you want to help him—”

  “Hear me out.” He turned to sit cross-legged, facing Will fully. “Warren is his personal counselor, something he only does with ‘special’ boys, the ones he thinks have leadership abilities. Or that’s the excuse he uses, except I’ve seen Elliot after those sessions—which, by the way, are always in the evenings. That makes some sense, given that Elliot is part of the staff, too, and does a lot during the days.”

  “And?” Will prompted when Damien fell silent.

  He licked his lips before continuing, which only served to distract Will. “I may be totally off base with this, but I swear that whatever is going on behind Warren’s closed door is bad. It’s hurting Elliot—and not only mentally. I think he’s using some kind of physical punishment. Surely that’s illegal.”

  “I don’t know. I’d have to check with Alex and Val. It sounds wrong, obviously, but I’ve learned that humans don’t have to make sense.”

  “Humans?”

  Will kicked himself mentally. “We humans. You know that as a species we kind of suck.”

  “No argument here.” He paused again. “It could be even worse, like maybe he’s having Elliot give him what he’s missing from not going to the clubs anymore. I have to assume that his extracurricular activities are off the table during his presidential campaign.”

  “There’s some logic there.”

  “Yup, unfortunately there is.”

  “Do you think Elliot would admit to any of that?”

  Damien’s face fell. “Probably not. He’s drunk a lot of the Kool-Aid. I’m surprised his face hasn’t turned bright red by now.”

  “I fear we are back to not having anything of value.”

  “Crap.” Then he said something that made Will’s heart skip a beat. “I think Bran was watching me this evening. I can’t be sure—” He stopped on a squeak as Will grabbed him by the arms and squeezed.

  “Why the hell didn’t you lead with that?” He could barely keep his voice in check.

  Damien’s eyes widened. “Sorry. It didn’t seem that important compared to what I thought I’d learned about Elliot shortly after the guy creeped me out lurking in the corner of the common room. I could be wrong. It’s easy to get paranoid in there. I swear I’ve done nothing worth his notice.”

  Will looked off in the distance, his moods and instincts whipsawed with each new piece of information. “This ends tomorrow.” He’d made his decision. If Bran was suspicious of Damien, that put his life at risk. Alex would understand pulling him out. Everyone would.

  “I told you I want to see this through.”

  Will glared at him. “And I’ve told you—we’ve all told you—that Bran is dangerous. Seriously, he will kill you if he thinks you are a threat. He doesn’t operate by even the low standards that I expect Warren does.”

  Damien finally looked seriously scared. Excellent. “Okay, I hear you. I could be wrong, though, and I don’t want you to upset Alex because I’m jumping at shadows. I don’t exactly get how your family works, but I can tell that he’s like, the boss.”

  “That’s not entirely true. It doesn’t matter, in any event. My feelings for you will override Alex’s judgment on this. I’ll make sure of it.”

  “Your feelings?”

  Will winced. He really hadn’t intended to show his hand quite yet. “We’ll talk about that once you’re out of here. There are things about me that you need to know before we take our relationship any further.”

  “Okay. That’s fine, so long as you understand that I’m falling in love with you already.”

  Oh, sweet Jesus. “Wait until you hear what I say before deciding if you want to tell me that again.”

  “Okay,” the boy said for the third time. Damien wiggled out of his hold and righted what he could of his clothing with Will’s help.

  When they were done, Will wanted to hold him in place and made an aborted attempt at doing so, before letting him go. Damien smiled at him. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

  “First thing in the morning. I’ll be coming through the front door.”

  “They may not let you in.”

  “Let them try and stop me.” He made sure his expression showeed his lover his determination. It worked.

  Backing away, Damien chuckled. “Okay then. Tomorrow morning.” He blew a kiss and was gone.

  Will sat, watching him leave, unable to move himself. He couldn’t shake a sense of dread. He wasn’t sure he could make himself return to the club, to even ask Alex’s permission before he pulled Damien out—or Annika’s, for that matter. Every fiber of his body was telling him that his lover was in imminent danger. His feelings, including his growing love for Damien, felt like a far more important thing than hierarchy and power. Maybe he’d been on this planet too long, or perhaps he’d never been a good member of the hive, despite his high birth. Regardless, his path was clear if he could keep his shit together for a few more hours. Come dawn, he would be on the move.

  * * * *

  Damien’s heart sank when he realized that the light was on in his room. Elliot had woken, again, and it would be harder to explain his late-night wanderings this time. Damn, he’d been lucky since that one time, with Elliot sleeping soundly through his comings and goings. Of course, what difference did it make, given that Will was determined to pull him out of the camp within less than twelve hours anyway? Damien was willing to bet his man wouldn’t wait for breakfast before storming the battlements for him. The depth of the man’s devotion pushed all kinds of sappy buttons that he’d had since pre-puberty.

  “Sorry, dude,” he was saying as he opened the door. His words died on his lips when he saw his roommate lying on top of his bed—not under the covers, not anymore. He was paler than usual and, considering the blood dripping down both his arms, that wasn’t surprising.

  “Elliot!” Even now, his instinct was to stay quiet, not wake the others. He didn’t trust anyone in this place to provide the right help.

  He rushed to the bedside, saw that the boy was already unconscious. “Oh, Elliot, what did that fucker do to you?”

  This was Warren’s fault. There was no doubt about it. But blame could wait. Damien dithered for a few seconds before choosing to grab his phone from its hiding place. Help room quick quiet, he texted to Will before tossing the phone on his bed and returning to Elliot’s side.

  Pulling off his T-shirt, he tried to rip it in half. It was fucking hard to do. How had Will manage to make it look so easy? He gave up and wrapped it around the nearest of Elliot’s wrists. He was just turning to get another one from his drawer, when miraculously there was Will. His keen eyes took in the situation in a fraction of a second. Then there was a moment of obvious hesitation before Will dropped to Elliot’s side. He took the unbou
nd arm first and raised it to his face.

  Damien frowned. “He’s slashed his wrists,” he said, because it seemed as if his lover didn’t understand what had happened.

  Will turned troubled eyes on him. “I know. I’m sorry. I wanted you to learn this a better way.”

  Damien opened his mouth to ask what the hell Will was talking about. He shut it with a click of his teeth as he watched Will stick out his tongue and begin lapping at the slits Elliot had made in his skin. Vertical cuts, because this kid was serious about killing himself.

  “What the fuck…?” His words died as he realized the blood was slowing and the wounds were closing.

  Will drenched the boy’s flesh with his saliva, and when he was done with the first arm, he pulled off Damien’s hasty bandage and repeated the effort. Stunned, Damien backed away until his legs hit his cot. He fell rather than sat, his gaze fixed on what was happening mere feet away.

  “I don’t understand.” He swallowed hard and tried again to ask a question that didn’t quite form in his mind. “What are you?” he finally croaked out.

  Will didn’t answer. Not with words. Instead, he turned his head, licking the spots of blood from his lips, his white fangs gleaming. White. Fangs.

  “Holy fuck! You’re a vampire?” He giggled because that was crazy.

  But Will didn’t join him in his mirth. He merely nodded.

  * * * *

  Will had never hated being Earth-bound more since the crash, in the very literal sense of the world. Speeding eastbound on the Mass Pike toward the help Damien’s friend needed, he couldn’t stop wishing that they were in the air. A chopper wouldn’t necessarily be faster in populated areas, but he could go in a straight line and without having to keep one eye out for a state trooper pulling him over. He was speeding just a bit, because time was not their friend.

  Calling an ambulance had been discussed and discarded as an option. The camp had a small medical center to handle minor problems. Both Damien and Will had been concerned that the Warrens would try to contain Elliot’s suicide attempt in-house, given that their concerns were obviously all about their needs and not those of the boys they coopted. Plus, with Bran on the prowl, there was an unknown variable about how he would react to finding one of his enemies right at his doorstep.