Adult-FanFiction.org : Celebrity

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.

Chapter List
- 3
- 4
Jason was in his cell again. He knew it so well, the bland, cream walls, the concrete floor, the low metal bed with its two thin sheets and ugly grey blanket. Every detail was etched into his mind, and would never, ever be erased. He’d spent hours pacing, crying, ranting, and cowering in this room. He’d spent three months here.

He was sitting on the bed now, staring at the door, listening, his breath held in his chest and his eyes wide, his fingers clasped tightly in his lap. Frozen like a statue, paler than marble, he waited.

He was coming. Jim Ruddock, the same guard that came every night, the same man that made Jason’s life a living hell. There was nothing he couldbut but sit there and listen to the footsteps come closer, listen to the jangling of the keys. Nothing he could do but wait for it.

He closed his eyes, bowed his head. There was the key being inserted into the lock, there was the handle turning, there was the familiar creak of his door being swung open. Jason couldn’t bear to look up, couldn’t handle seeing that face not now, not again. Why couldn’t he just be left alone, for one god damn night?

“Jason.”

It wasn’t the right voice.

Ruddock had a nasal, whiny voice. Jason would know it anywhere, it haunted his dreams, it never let him go. But this voice, this voice was clear and smooth as silk… smooth…

Jason opened his eyes, fixed them on the boots of the man before him. They weren’t the cheap, regulation brown pair that he was used to staring at, they were black and glossy and Jason just had to look up in confusion to see who it was in his cell, but he couldn’t, not just yet. All he could do was gaze at those boots in uncertainty and barely formed hope.

“Jason, look at me.”

It was a voice that could not be disobeyed. Almost against his will, Jason looked up, let his eyes travel up the tall, thin body standing before him until they finally fixed on a young, beautiful face.

Jason knew that face.

He opened his mouth to speak, but the boy before him raised a finger to his lips and shook his head. “Hush, Jason, no, don’t speak,” he whispered, then held out his hand with a smile. Jason couldn’t read the expression he wore, it was invitation and longing, yes, but he could also see a hint of malice. Coldness. For a moment, Jason felt like he was being studied, as if he were no more than a beautiful jewel or flower, set there for this boys approval. But then it was gone, and Jason found himself taking the offered hand, marvelling at the softness of it. The boy pulled him to his feet and wrapped his arms around him, gazing down into his face.

“You’re mine, Jason,” he whispered, dipping his head to plant a tiny kiss on Jason’s parted lips, “You’re mine, now.”

“Yes,” Jason replied, too dazed to really think about what he was agreeing to. He felt like he was being hypnotised, caught up under the spell of those dark eyes gazing into his own. He was lost, sinking underneath the current, strung out along the line between fantasy and reality, and suddenly everything was too dazzling, too bright and real. “I’m not really here…” he managed to get out, “You’re not really here.”

But again, it didn’t matter because the boy was guiding him back down to lay on the bed, stretching out on top of him, and all of a sudden those lips were everywhere Jason wanted them to be. And *nothing* mattered, nothing at all, except that yes, he was his. Again, and again, and again, he was his.

~

“Morning, sunshine.” Vittorio looked up from his paper and shot Jason a smile. “Well. Afternoon, anyway. How do you feel?”

Jason paused in the doorway to the kitchen, looking surprised. “Afternoon? You serious?”

orioorio shrugged and pointed to the clock. It was quarter past one. “I almost woke you up for breakfast, but you were sleeping like a baby. I thought you could use the rest.”

Jason sunk down into the chair opposite Vittorio, staring at the table with a small frown on his face. “I can’t believe it. That’s the most I’ve slept in…”

“A year.”

“Yeah.”

Vittorio got up and started making some coffee. “You looked like you were having sweet dreams, too,” he said mildly, “When I went in to check on you. No nightmares.”

Blood rushed to Jason’s cheeks as he remembered exactly what *kind* of dreams he’d been having. “Mmmm. No, not nightmares.” He closed his eyes, caught an image of lips pressed against his chest, a sharp sting, but it had felt so good….

“So, chico, am I going to have to change the sheets? Because it sounded like I’m gonna have to change the sheets.” Vittorio leaned against the counter and shot him a grin. Jason couldn’t help but grin back. He was too relieved to be embarrassed.

“Yeah, I think you’d better,” he said, “Christ. The first night in a year that I don’t have a nightmare, and I get a wet dream.”

“Well, you don’t do things by half, I’ll give you that.” Vittorio raised an eyebrow. “Who was it about?”

Fiddling with the corner of the place mat before him, Jason shot Vittorio a shy smile. “The boy I’m in love with.”

“Right. The boy you’ve only ever seen once.”

Jason shook his head. “I saw him again last night. I--” he paused. For some reason he didn’t want to tell his friend about his encounter with the boy. He loved Vittorio, but he was always too rational. Jason had secretly nurtured his dreams of fairy tale love for too long, he couldn’t bear having them shot down.

“What?”

“Nothing. I saw him, is all. He was still gorgeous.”

Leaning across the table, Vittorio planted a kiss on Jason’s forehead. “You’re gorgeous. You’re a nutcase, but you’re gorgeous.” He smoothed Jason’s hair back, tilted up his chin. “We’re gonna get you better, Jase. Ok?”

“Ok, Tory.” Jason was a little embarrassed by the attention, but touched. “What would I do without you, huh?”

“Wash your own sheets?”

Jason had to laugh, the slight awkwardness broken. “Yeah. Something like that.”

~

Jason danced. Vittorio wouldn’t let him turn tricks while he was staying in his house, so Jason didn’t have anything in the world to do except dance, writhe and twist in amongst the press of bodies, close his eyes and let his sweat dampened hair flick around in fac faces of those who couldn’t help but watch. He danced, in his old jeans that were now too loose for him and hung low on his hips, he danced, and he knew that his eyeliner was probably running down his face, but he didn’t have to care. He had no one to impress, for a change. He had no one to please but himself, and so he *danced* for himself without a thought for the rest of the world. He knew, in some vague sort of way, that there were people watching him, wanting him, men and women both. But none of them mattered.

There was only one person who mattered.

~

Gackt was there. He clung to the walls of the club, staring into the crowd, eyes fixed on just one face, just one body. The strobe flashed, swung, caught for just an instant the blood red of Jason’s hair, and then he was thrust back into darkness, shadows and lights that didn’t really illuminate anything. But Gackt could see him, yes. Gackt could feel him.

He timed his moment perfectly. Waited until Jason had had just enough vodka, had been dancing for just long enough for his senses to be blazing much brighter than his rational thoughts. Waited until the blur of adoring dancers surrounding him was at its thickest. Waited until Jason would have no chance of resisting. And then he struck.

~

“Lover.”

Jason spun around; searching for the soft, calm voice that had just whispered in his ear. But the press was too much; he could barely distinguish each face from the next, let alone tell who it was that had spoken. He shrugged, resolved to ignore it, closed his eyes and tried to lose himself in the music, but there it was again.

“*Lover*.”

And this time, this time he was sure he’d felt hot breath on his neck, close, so close, but there was no one god damn there. Jason twirled around, out of time with the music, now, searching. “Where are you?” he murmured, eyes wide as they scanned the crush of dancers. No one was paying the slightest bit of attention to him anymore. He wasn’t dancing, he wasn’t putting on a show, and even though he was surrounded, he was so alone.

“Fucker, where *are* you?” he repeated in frustration, spinning around again, bringing his arms up and tossing his hair wildly. He was too drunk, and the lights were blinding him, and was that really a voice that had just said ‘here,’ or was it just his imagination?

Didn’t matter. Suddenly, he turned, his attention drawn to the edge of the dance floor. The strobe was still flashing, the crush still threatening to drag him under, but none of that mattered either. Because there he was. Standing on the edge of the crowd, eyes fixed on Jason, a small smile on his face. His hair was so blond it shone almost white, and it fell over his face in soft spikes, and Jason knew, just knew, that if he were to brush it all aside, it would feel as soft and as cold as silk.

Time stopped. The world vanished until they were the only ones left, frozen in place, eyes locked as if they could never look away. Jason felt his chest tighten, he wasn’t sure if his heart were speeding up, or slowing down, or even stopping altogether, but he knew that whatever happened this boy before him would always be there. Always be there.

And then, as suddenly as it had happened, the moment was over. “Lover,” the boy mouthed, and cocked his had back ever so slightly, the movement small, but commanding. Jason was drawn to him as if to a magnet, completely powerless to disobey that simple gesture. And why on earth would he want to, anyway?

He reached the boy, stood in front of him and looked up just a little into his face. “Who are you?”

Cold fingers stroked his cheeks, ran across his lips. “My name is Gackt, Jason,” he said, leaning down to purr it into Jason’s ear, “But names don’t matter, do they?”

“No….” was all Jason had time to gasp out before Gackt’s lips were crushing his, his arms encircling his waist and pulling him close, holding him so tight, almost too tight. And then Jason had to stop thinking, because the kiss was taking him over, and he had no room in him for anything but Gackt’s taste and tongue and lips.

‘Mine, now, Jason. You know you’re mine…’ The words echoed through his brain, and even though Gackt was still kissing him deeply, hadn’t stopped, he knew that the thoughts were his. He tried to pull away, tried to think rationally, tried to get a little distance, but Gackt held him too tight.

“Jason, you don’tt tot to go. Doesn’t this feel good?” His tongue coiled around Jason’s ear, drew the lobe into his mouth. Jason couldn’t help but moan, once, loudly, and then again as Gackt’s hands slid up under his shirt, cool against his hot flesh.

“Yes,” Jason admitted, arching into the body before him. “So good.”

“Dance with me.”

Before Jason even registered that he’d moved, he was back out on the dance floor, swaying uncertainly in Gackt’s arms. Gackt’s eyes were shining, his lips full and swollen from Jason’s kisses. “Dance.” And again, Jason had no choice but to obey.

Jason danced, and now he *was* dancing for someone, dancing for this lovely boy before him. Hair lashing around wildly, eyes closed, hips swinging, arms raised high above his head. He could feel Gackt’s fingertips stroking up and down his waist, then higher to run along his arms until they were clasping hands, their faces inches apart. This time it was Jason who took the initiative, leaning in and kissing Gackt hungrily, sighing into his mouth.

“I could love you forever,” he murmured when they parted, surprising even himself. He wondered if it was the vodka talking, or whether it was just another of the spells Gackt seemed to be throwing over him.

Gackt smiled, beautifully, sweetly, but hidden in his features was the slightest touch of malice that made Jason catch his breath in mingled fear and excitement as he replied, “You’d better.”
- 3
- 4
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Malice