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Malice	By : Queenie Category: J-Rock/J-Pop & K-Pop > Malice Mizer Views: 2121 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know the members of Malice Mizer. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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“Ok, Jason, you need to calm down.” Vittorio set a cup of coffee down on the table in front of his friend and sat down opposite him. “What, exactly, did you see?”

Jason reached out to take the cup, but his hands were shaking so much he had to put it back down before he spilt it all over Vittorio’s carpet. “There was someone in my flat,” he said in a tight, strained voice, “There was someone in my fucking flat.”

Vittorio sighed and closed his eyes. “Yes, ok, there was someone in your flat. But what did you actually see?”

Jason pausthouthought. “Nothing,” he finally admitted, “But my window was open. I never leave it open, Tory, ever. You fucking know how paranoid I am. It’s always bolted shut.”

“So you’re saying you didn’t actually see anyone, right?” Vittorio leaned back in his chair. “But your window was open.”

“I know where you’re coming from, Tory. And no, I don’t think there is a freak out there who just goes around opening peoples windows and then buggering off, ok?”

“I didn’t say that,” Vittorio replied mildly, “But was anything stolen?”

“No.”

“And you didn’t see anyone.”

“No.”

Vittorio spread open his hands in a gesture of defeat. “Jase, maybe you-”

Jason’s eyes were steely as they met his friends. “I didn’t leave it open. I know I didn’t. Someone was there, Tory. Someone was after me.”

~

The world looked so tiny from up here. It was like he was on another plain, another realm of existence. Tiny lights flittered back and forth, he could imagine each one was a tiny life. A tiny soul that was his for the taking if he wanted it. They were all, each and every one, so…beautiful.

But he didn’t want them. He only wanted one.

It had been stupid of him to leave Jason’s window open. It had been even stupider of him to stay so long, though, he hadn’t had enough time to shut it behind him. And now the boy was terrified, well, more terrified than usual, staying at his pretty Spanish friends house, the only place where he felt safe.

Gackt allowed himself a small smile. Safe? No.

He liked coming up here, standing on the edge of this rooftop. He didn’t pay attention to what building it was; he just knew it was one of the highest in the city. Somewhere so high that he didn’t feel part of the world anymore. He could think much clearer up here, by himself and so cut off, and he could let his thoughts roam a little freer. Jason, he decided as the wind whipped through his blond spikes, making strands of hair dance over his smooth forehead and smooth cheeks, wasn’t safe anywhere, not anymore. Jason wouldn’t be safe until he was in Gackt’s own arms. Because that was the destiny that Gackt had planned for him, up here in the cold London night. And to Jason, Gackt’s will may as well have been God’s will, even if he didn’t know it yet.

Four hundred years of being what he was, and Gackt had never once revealed himself to a human. Four hundred years of secrecy, of hiding, of lies. He was sick of it, sick of it all, sick of his own existence, and he hadn’t even realised it until he’d locked eyes with Jason and then let him live. But even that wasn’t enough to break the…monotony of his life. Or lack of life, if you wanted to be specific. He wanted more, wanted to feel again, and he didn’t want it to end with the kill, no, not at first. He wanted to hold someone all night, wanted to feel their soul next to his, and he wanted to know that it was his for the taking whenever he chose. And maybe he wouldn’t take it tonight, or next week, or next month, but so long as it was his…

He wanted to know what it was to love, again. And Jason, he decided, would be so very easy to love. That little fragile angel with his broken wings, yes, he would be perfect. Helpless and submis, po, powerless to escape, he could be everything that Gackt needed. Andhe whe wasn’t?

Gackt licked his lips and remembered the sight of Jason writhing around on the mattress. If he wasn’t, then Gackt was sure he’d taste delicious all the same.

~

“Tory, I think I’m in love.”

“You’re in love, now? There’s one I haven’t heard before.”

“I am. I am in love with a boy I saw last night.”

“What’s his name?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never spoken to him.”

“You’re in love with someone you’ve never spoken to.”

“Yeah. And I’ve only ever glimpsed him once. Probably never gonna see him again, either.”

“And yet you’re in love with him?”

“Mmmm. I figure, if I’m going to be in love, this is the safest way to go about it.”

“Chico, remind me to get you into therapy.”

~

Jason sat in the corner of Vittorio’s club, away from the bar, away from the dance floor, away from the little stage with the St Andrews Cross and it’s willing victim. Vittorio ran an S&M parlour with this nightclub over the top of it, which Jason always found amusing because Vittorio was the sweetest, gentlest, most giving person he’d ever met. He’d yet to see him at work, and he really couldn’t picture it. But the club, and the parlour, did very well, so Jason figured he must be doing something right.

It wasn’t Jason’s scene, though, and while he hung out at the club occasionally, the shows up on the little stage eventually bored him, and he’d have to go hunting for his own type of fun. If Vittorio gave in and let the DJ play Nine Inch Nails, Jason could be convinced to stay a little longer, but they both knew he didn’t really belong there.

Jason didn’t ‘do’ bondage for fun. He did it because some of his tricks were sick bastards, and he needed the money. To see it from a recreational point of view always made him somewhat sad.

He finished his vodka and orange and winked at the DJ, who had been playing his song, then got up to find Vittorio. He was in his office, behind the bar.

“I get the DJ to play Starfuckers Inc by that bloody band, and you’re still leaving?” Vittorio was pretending to be hurt.

“Have too. Gotta go work,” Jason replied. “I’ll be back to yours by three, ok?”

“You’ll probably beat me home,” Vittorio sighed despondently, looking at the pile of paperwork on his desk. “Ok, bello, take care of yourself. Stay safe.”

The words struck Jason for some reason. Safe. When was he ever safe?

~

Stalking Jason again. Watching him strut his stuff on the street, watching him lean into someone’s car window, watching him slip inside. Gackt tried not to feel jealous, failed, and decided he would kill Jason’s partner, just to make himself feel better.

He wanted to be with Jason tonight. He was tired of waiting. What was the point of having a new game if you couldn’t play it? He wanted just to… Just to lock eyes with him again. He’d forgotten how good it felt to have someone stare into his eyes with something other than fear, or even mere lust. He wanted that feeling again, tonight, now.

He waited outside the hotel room, down the hall a little, in the stairwell, and listened to what was happening inside. From the john he was only picking up lust, greed, anger, all of it pulsing and expanding as he grew closer to orgasm. Jason, on the other hand, was only emitting disgust, bor and and impatience. His mind was somewhere else. His mind was on someone he’d met the night before, no, not met, just seen…

Gackt let out a small gasp of surprise. Jason’s mind was on him.

~

“I think I’m in love.”

Flash of startled blue eyes, lips parted in shock. “What?”

“I think I’ve fallen in love.” Gackt repeated. They were out on the street, Jason had been hurriedly walking away from the hotel room and Gackt was walking in the opposite direction. Those words thrown casually over his shoulder had been enough to stop Jason in his tracks.

But Jason recovered quickly. “I could love you too, sweetheart, for the right price,” he said in a slutty little voice, batting his lashes. But then Gackt took a step closer, stepped into the light, and Jason paused. “Wait… I know you…”

Gasmilsmiled. “Not yet.”

And then he was gone, leaving Jason staring after him in confusion.

“Not yet?” he repeated, and then let out a very soft laugh, twirling a little under the streetlight. “Not yet.”

~

Gackt was there when Jason went home to get some more clothes. He was there when he let himself into Vittorio’s empty flat. He was there when Jason settled himself into the spare bed, considered turning off the lamp, then decided, at the last moment, that he couldn’t. He was there when Jason finally slipped off into troubled dreams. And he was there, too, touching Jason’s closed eyes and guiding him away from nightmares, letting his image slip into the boys mind instead. Jason rolled onto his side, his hand brushing Gackt’s thigh, but didn’t wake. Gackt held his breath for a moment, and then gently brushed the boys hair out of his eyes, stng tng the beautiful, peaceful face before him.

“Mine,” he whispered, leant down and kissed his forehead. “You’re mine, Jason.”

Lost in dreams that, for the first time in a year, weren’t nightmares, Jason could only smile.
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