Holy son of a cat I finished one of them
May. 30th, 2010 08:59 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
splinteredstarCassie babe, this is for you.
For the rest of you, this is her request from quite a while ago. Nominally a Kuroshitsuji fic, but as it stars an OC and takes place in the present time, the only really canonical bit is Sebastian. Since no one besides me and Cassie actually know who the fuck Dimitri is...well, I think it's clear from the prose. He's a demon, and spends a lot of time with Sebastian, and I think that's all.
WARNING: As per the request, this contains RPF (Real Person Fantasy). Specifically, this features Muse band members Matthew Bellamy and Dominic Howard. This is, as stated, purely fantasy and does not presume any behavior or relationships involving said Real People and is not intended to imply anything about said people.
In other words: I'm making this shit up, so please don't sue me.
Dimitri stands in the middle of the crowded concert, tapping his feet to the music and staring at the stage with a hunter’s practiced eye. Some girl in glitter and tights fights through the crowd to reach him, grabbing his arm and smiling with sweat-smeared make-up, promises of a good time and, “Hey handsome, are you new in town?” spilling from her lips.
“Just passing through,” He smiles back, pointed teeth gleaming and eyes sparkling behind his shades. She’s cute, with the Indian features Dimitri will admit he’s got a weakness for, but he just smirks and says, “And thanks, but I’m not interested.” He is, not gonna lie, he’s hungry and he’s hard from the smell of humans and sex and sweat, but his eye’s caught on someone else, someone a bit more interesting.
The girl huffs off with a frown and flouncing black hair, but Dimitri doesn’t watch her go. He’s much more interested in the stage and the band, in watching the energy fly off of the performers in sparks and flashes. And he’s really interested in the looks that drummer keeps shooting at the lead, looks of lust and adoration half-hidden beneath the drama and glamour of the stage. The lead shoots them back, when he can, but still – there’s something Dimitri can use there.
Just taking and eating anyone who fell into his lap would be demeaning, not to mention boring, and frankly most humans aren’t worth the effort. Dimitri, like all demons, likes challenges and likes excitement, and humans – the right humans, the interesting humans like that kid Sebastian still won’t get over, like Dimitri’s thinking that drummer could be – are the most exciting things around. Boredom tastes like ashes and cheap alcohol on his tongue, and after he’d eaten another nameless, replaceable whore in a rented hotel room – fuck, he remembers more about the carpeting than the girl – Dimitri had started to wonder if Sebastian maybe had a point with being picky.
Not that Dimitri ever intends to tell Sebastian that. Smug prick would never shut up about it.
Dimitri stands and stares at the stage, with the beat pounding in his ears and the thrum of the crowd pulsing around him like a massive heart. Three songs left and the music’s not bad, some fuzzy-sounding rock with vocals that make girls swoon, but the physical senses have always been secondary to a demon and the energy in the arena is going to drive him mad soon.
He twitches, running his hands through hair and tugging on his belts through the next song, and the next and the next, fending off girls and boys trying to scrawl cell phone numbers on his arms or his hoodie. One boy succeeds, half-way through the last song as the vocalist belts out something in French, a guy smirking with blue-dyed bangs fanned across his face, pen in hand and digits on Dimitri’s hand – Dimitri smirks back, mocking and cold and slips out of the guy’s reach, walking through the crowd like smoke. The digits fade from his skin with just a flash of power as he walks.
Just when Dimitri feels like he’s going to explode from frustration or hunger or both, the concert ends with guitar pieces scattered across the stage like broken bones. The band waves, escaping backstage behind pyrotechnics and Dimitri slinks closer to the stage, as the pounding noise softens to a less furious hum. He’s hard as hell and he’s nearly bitten through his tongue because he just can’t wait much longer. It’s been weeks since he’s eaten.
Now, how to do this gig… He grins slowly, turning away from the slowly thinning crowd so his face is hidden and flipping his hood up to hide his hair, and with just a touch of power to twist his appearance like it’s play-doh… Bam. The new features are a bit uncomfortable, thinner and bonier than Dimitri likes and his head feels fucking bald with his hair this short, but this look will make it easier. His clothes, already skin tight, develop rips and mesh in the few spots where there wasn’t any already. With a smile he turns to sneak into the backstage. Who needs a pass?
“You look like a whore.” Dimitri pauses, his smile tightening at the voice echoing in his mind.
“You wouldn’t know style if it bit you in the ass.” He thinks back as he moves again, the security guards’ eyes slipping over him like he’s invisible as he slides between them to go backstage.
“Style,” the infuriately proper voice intones somewhere inside of Dimitri’s brain, “is unnecessary if one has the proper manners and charm.”
Dimitri rolls his eyes as he dodges stage crew. The idiot’s a butler for six fucking years and the speech sticks for centuries. “Charm?” he snorts back mentally. “Where have you been hiding that, next to the stick up your ass?”
The mental equivalent of a sigh fills Dimitri’s mind as he tries to find the drummer’s dressing room. “Are you almost done, little brother?” Sebastian finally mutters from wherever the hell he is. “I sat through this shameful cacophony you call music, and I’d like to start prowling.”
“Then start prowling. I’ve already picked mine for the night.” A pause as Dimitri finally finds a promising looking door – labeled “Dominic” which is what Dimitri thought the drummer’s name was…. “What, do you need me to hold your hand while you tempt some half-grown kid with promises of candy and a free puppy?”
A snort lodges in Dimitri’s mind, distracting him as he tries to listen through the dressing room door. Sounds like there’s more than one person in there… no good. “I,” Sebastian drawls, “just do not want my precious little brother to get hurt while he is wandering about in a strange place.” The sarcasm drips from Sebastian’s mental ‘voice’ and Dimitri rolls his eyes again. Condescending prick.
They’re both silent for a moment as Dimitri tries to focus on the dressing room. Wouldn’t do any good to barge in when his mark’s got a dozen groupies groping his ass… His mind reaches out, tiny tendrils of thought threading through the door to investigate, before Sebastian follows a few of them and sighs, distracting him again.
“You’re going after the drummer, then?” Like it was some sort of failure, or something. Dimitri rolls his eyes, feeling out the human presences in the room to be sure. Just two, which…is tolerable. Workable. Really, really annoying. Why can’t marks make it easy on him?
“Yeah, do you have a problem with that? Not high-class enough for you, obviously.” He sneers back, shifting his weight from foot to foot in impatience. He couldn’t just barge in…well, he could, but it’d be troublesome and as tasty as the drummer looked, he ain’t worth that. How to get this lovely little prey alone… “Now shut up and let me focus. I’m hunting.”
Sebastian lets out a dramatic sigh that echoes in Dimitri’s mind, but then finally – finally! – shuts the fuck up. Dimitri waits until he felt Sebastian’s mind pull back, and then focuses on getting that second person out of the dressing room. Hmm, could make some sort of distraction out here… but what would only get one of them? Dimitri stares, his eyes narrowing in annoyance as his mind reaches out.
…duh. Demon.
It takes a bit of focus, a little more effort than he really wanted to spent tonight, but Dimitri gets his power latched onto the mind that *doesn’t* feel like the drummer. It’s hard to tell, without getting closer, but it doesn’t matter either way. Claws in deep…and with a mental jerk, the other presence starts, and the door to the dressing room slams open.
The vocalist sprints out to find out what got his attention, a blush splashed across his face and blood dripping from a torn lip. Dimitri has to raise an eyebrow at the expression, but hey, none of his business really. It leaves the Dominic alone, so who cares? He smiles as he slips into the dressing room, sparing half a moment to shove Sebastian out of his mind completely. Thankfully the bastard doesn’t complain too much about it…
“Matt? I thought you just left.” The drummer asks in confusion as Dimitri walks in, before getting a good look. “Oh, sorry. I thought you were someone else.”
“Don’t worry.” Dimitri smiles, feeling his artificial features stretch in the expression. “I get that a lot. My name’s Dimitri.”
The man’s even more tempting this close, hair mussed and sweat dripping off bright green painted-on pants, shoes already discarded on the side of the room. Dimitri’s nose twitches – this close he can smell the sweat and the cologne and the powder smeared onto the drummer’s hands to keep the drumsticks from slipping. There’s something else, too, something that makes Dimitri smirk and shift closer. The pretty little drummer has semen on his breath, fresh and hot and probably smeared on his cheek.
Heh. That vocalist did look flushed as fuck as he came out…
He doesn’t bother hiding his hard-on as he steps closer, closer than most people would be able to get away with. The shadows deepen in the corners of the room with just a nudge of power, turning the light dim and sultry – romantic, maybe, coming from someone else, but Dimitri’s lacing lust into the beams, corrupting the very air without Dominic noticing. Most people never did.
“Dimitri, eh?” Dominic says, self-consciously fixing his hair with one hand. “So, do you want an autograph or something? I think I’ve got a pen somewhere…” The drummer glances around, not questioning how Dimitri got into a private dressing room or calling for security as he accepts Dimitri’s presence without a thought.
Sometimes it’s great to be a demon.
Dimitri clicks the lock closed with a brush of power, because as tasty as the vocalist – Matt, apparently – looks, and as little as Dimitri objects to gluttony, he’s not in quite in the mood for interruptions or distractions. Then he steps closer, close enough to touch like he’s wanted to for a fucking hour – close enough to press his fingers to suddenly dry lips and to feel Dominic’s shallow breath puffing against his hand.
“No autographs.” He whispers into the deep silence circling around them, letting his eyes fall hall-closed and pressing a bit of power through his fingertips. Not a lot, not enough to overpower or to break. Just enough to tempt. Demons don’t rape when it’s much more fun to corrupt. That’s one of the rules, always has been and even if it weren’t things wouldn’t change. Pushing someone into darkness gets old, but watching them jump never does. Dimitri grins, running his tongue over his teeth and watching Dominic’s wide eyes follow the movement. “You interested in groupie sex? I’m clean, promise.”
Dominic’s mouth opens, and then closes again to swallow. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t nod, doesn’t move a fucking muscle but Dimitri doesn’t need to be a demon to see the outline of his cock through his lime green pants. Dimitri grabs Dominic’s hip, pulling him close without resistance and trying to soften his own smirk. Shouldn’t scare the dear, not now… Nose to nose, chest to chest, cock to fucking cock, Dimitri shivers despite himself and whispers,
“You say no, I leave like I was never here. You say yes, I give you the best fucking sex of your life,” Dimitri pauses to run a long-nailed finger along the seam in those deliciously tight pants, “And no one has to know.” The prey has to agree – it’s more fun that way. Without the choice it’s butchery and boring butchery at that. If they don’t know what they’re agreeing too, well, that’s their own fault now isn’t it? He purrs against Dominic’s lips, not kissing, not yet, “So beautiful, what do you say? Do you want me?”
The still silence stretches on, wrapping around them both like a noose, like a grey ribbon dripped in blood and acid until it’s broken by Dominic’s harsh whispered, “Yes.”
Dimtri’s smile is just a little too cruel and just a little too vicious as he leans forward to finally, finally kiss him, twisting his fingers into lime-green belt-buckles to pull him closer. Dominic’s soft and responsive and – Dimitri chuckles, licking at Dominic’s lips. Pretty little drummer boy likes cherry flavored lip-balm, apparently - real cherry flavor, not the cheap artificial shit. Smirking, Dimitri drags kisses over Dominic’s lips and face, nipping just enough to see if Dominic likes it, before pausing at that fine neck and biting down with a fraction of his strength.
“Ah, fuck…” Dominic gasps as the teeth barely break the skin. Shit, hadn’t meant to do that…Dimitri pulls back as soon as he realizes, kissing slow and sweet and deep in apology.
“Sorry beautiful.” Another kiss, with a brush against Dominic’s trapped erection. “Don’t know my own strength, sometimes. I’ll make it up to you, promise.”
“It’s-” Dominic groans as Dimitri grinds against him, rocking his knee against him with another smirk, “It’s fine.” He finally gasps out, hands untangling from Dimitri’s hair to undo Dimitri’s multitude of belts. The belts thud and clink as they hit the floor, one by one, as Dominic undoes them to reach Dimitri’s skin-tight pants.
Dimitri grins against Dominic’s neck, kicking the belts out of the way once they’re all off and slipping out of his shoes. In return he starts to undo those fucking amazing lime green pants while they kiss, groaning into Dominic’s mouth as his own pants slide down his legs and his achingly hard cock pounds in the suddenly cold air. Why bother with underwear?
“I’ve been hard,” he whispers against Dominic’s ear as he finally gets the pants off, peeling them down Dominic’s legs, glad to find the drummer’s gone commando too, “For three fucking hours watching you on that stage. Do you have any idea how fucking hot you are?” He grabs Dominic’s cock, hard and dripping in his hand and pumps it slowly as he pushes Dominic back towards a nearby desk.
Dominic laughs a bit, wrapping his own hand around Dimitri’s cock as he steps out of his pants, shuffling backwards at Dimitri’s guidance. “Thanks, babe,” Dominic whispers back with a twist of his hand that makes Dimitri’s knees nearly give out, “You’re not bad yourself. Are you planning on using this beauty, or would you rather I?” He’s smirking, hair plastered to his face and Dimitri can’t help but kiss him slow and sweet.
He’s quite fond of these humans, really.
“I told you I’d give you the best sex of your life, didn’t I?” Dimitri smiles, grabbing Dominic’s tight ass and hefting him onto the desk. Just the right height, now. “Can’t do that if you’re blasting my brains out with your cock, can I? I’ll top, beautiful.”
Dominic shrugs, shifting to get comfortable on the desk. Dimitri steps between his legs and kisses down his neck again, trying to memorize what he tastes like. It’s one of Sebastian’s bits of “wisdom”, but one Dimitri actually agrees with – if they’re not worth remembering, then it’d be better to starve. Dominic makes breathy little whimpers, laughing,
“Then get on with it, before I get bored.”
Dimitri has to smile. Fucking humans, but he wouldn’t trade them for all of heaven.
He distracts Dominic with another blinding kiss, teeth and tongue against Dominic’s cherry-flavored lips while he gropes around in his hoodie pocket for lube, setting a condom aside for later. He grins as he finds it, a flash of power tweaking the flavor before he pulls it out and pulls back from the kiss, purring and displaying the tube with a flourish and a grin.
“Cherry flavored, just like you.”
Dominic starts to laugh, a cute little breathless chuckle, but Dimitri kisses him again, deep and slow with Dominic’s calloused hands twisting into his hair. Dimitri blindly pulls open the lube and pours some on his fingers, sparing half a second’s thought to shorten his fingernails to keep from hurting the poor guy. Sebastian wouldn’t mind – fuck, demons like it rough most of the time – but humans aren’t Sebastian, humans bleed and break and they’re all the more precious for their frailty.
He presses one finger in, and then two, swallowing Dominic’s gasp before nearly groaning himself, biting his tongue to keep silent. Dominic’s tighter than he expected, tight and tense and hot around Dimitri’s fingers as he fights with his own impatience and the maddening pulse in his head. Either that vocalist was fucking tiny or Dominic’s more of a top than he looks, but hell, Dimitri’s fucked virgins that were looser than this. He breaks the kiss to bite at Dominic’s ear, growling as he tries to stretch him gently.
Dimitri whispers adorations and compliments, flattery to distract him while he presses more power through his fingers, convincing the muscles to loosen and the lubrication to spread. Three fingers slip in, and then four as Dimtiri reaches deeper, deeper, feeling with his mind and his power until –
“Oh, god…” Dominic groans, fingers spasming and pulling on Dimitri’s artificially short hair. Dimitri just grins, chuckling breathlessly as he brushes that spot again and again until Dominic’s too close, eyes rolling into the back of his head. Don’t want him to come just yet. That’d ruin the fun.
Pulling out his fingers reluctantly, Dimitri kisses him again, licking up as much of that cherry lip balm as he can as he sheathes and lubes his cock. His blood is pounding and he’s panting, more than he really wants to admit to – he always loses it, always gets into it because he’s never wanted to learn Sebastian’s trick of staying straight-faced in sex. What’s the fucking point of that? No, Dimitri likes losing himself, likes letting the taste and the smell and texture of sweet humanity slide into his mind as he presses Dominic onto his back on the desk and slides himself in.
Dominic whimpers desperately as he arches his back, whispering with eyes closed and hands clenching, “Matthew, please.” like it’s a prayer or a mantra, like the old litanies Dimitri half-remembers from India and England and a dozen other places. It’s both hilarious and a touch insulting, so Dimitri leans down and whispers against his ear,
“I want to see those gorgeous eyes of yours, babe, so keep them open.”
Dimitri’s never liked being ignored.
Dominic obeys with some effort, disappointment and broken fantasies shading his expression for half a moment – and then blasted off in the next as Dimitri leans and bends in a way most people can’t to take that cock into his mouth as he thrusts. Mind you, most people aren’t Dimitri-fucking-Konstantinov, he thinks with a grin.
‘Can your guitarist do that?’ He thinks, smirking – he almost says it aloud, just to see the look on his face…but that would break the spell and the moment, shattering everything into reality. It’s still a bit too soon for that. Instead he softens his smirk and closes his eyes, letting every sense he has fill with the sensation of human lust and pleasure and the sheer spiritual power pouring into his head like the fucking Ganges.
He’d tried to explain what it felt like to taste a human soul, once, drunk off his ass from some homebrewed shit – he doesn’t even remember where it was now because demons have blackouts too. He’d curled up in the lap of someone he won’t remember, someone with jet black hair and laughing eyes, someone who’d kissed him on the nose and asked him all sorts of strange things.
It’s like a really, really good drug, he’d said, like birdsong and sugar and light spun together and tied up with a bright red ribbon all dipped in chocolate. It’s like an explosion of life behind his eyes, filling up the place where he’s probably supposed to have a soul. It’s like everything good and beautiful and awesome, he’d said, and that someone had just chuckled, the light of the setting sun turning his hair a world of shades and colors.
Fuck heaven, if it meant giving up this.
Dimitri leans in just a bit more, swallowing around Dominic’s cock and inhaling that delicious whimper. The guy’s close, close enough that Dimitri can fucking taste it on his pre-come and in the twang of his spirit, tighter and tighter until Dimitri pushes a single thread of power in and –
Boom.
Dominic’s coming like a fucking volcano, his teeth clenched nearly tight enough to crack and his semen splattering in Dimitri’s throat. It tastes good and it’s hot and Dimitri can’t help it, he can never help it at this point, moaning deep in his throat and thrusting his hips. His vision flashes white, energy and power flooding his being as he swallows down Dominic’s offering.
Some demons demand blood. Dimitri’s always preferred other sacrifices.
The sensation of his own body orgasming is nothing compared to the soul energy ping-ponging around in his skull and ribcage, letting off fireworks in his brain. His spine sags, Dominic’s cock slipping out of his mouth, and he almost collapses against Dominic as his arms shake, his breath puffing against Dominic’s shirt.
As much as he’s always tempted to fall asleep at this point, he knows he can’t – Sebastian would never shut up about it – so he straightens, sighing in pleasure. Dominic’s still gorgeous, even now, sweaty and asleep and pale from the energy drained. Dimitri stares fondly at the sleeping form for a moment, before kissing closed eyelids – a sentimental gesture he picked up somewhere he won’t admit, won’t remember – and turns away to leave as he buttons up his pants. The man’ll be fine in the morning – a little tired, sore as hell, but fine. Dimitri could have done worse.
Dimitri adjusts his hoodie and pulls out a cigarette, adjusting his hair back to its normal length with one hand as he lights the smoke with a half-second’s flash of power. He slinks out of Dominic’s dressing room with a slouch and a smirk, almost purring with contentment as the tangy taste of Dominic’s energy pulses in his throat and the place he assumes his soul’s supposed to be. Dimitri walks through the shadows and smoke until he reaches the exit, and then with a blown kiss in Dominic’s direction he leaves the arena and takes to the streets.
Sebastian joins him at the street corner, his trench coat brushing the tops of his high-heeled boots and a smirk of his own turning his benign appearance feral. They walk in silence for a moment, listening to the sounds of the city, with the drunk and the high and the whores in the alleyways filling the night with the devil’s symphony, the music of a world burning as it plunges to hell.
“So, little brother.” Sebastian says as they both pause near a street corner, eyes glued on a prostitute with heroin scars on her arms and the taste of desperation and despair in her sweat. “That drummer. Was he tasty?”
Dimitri smiles, his teeth gleaming in the streetlight. “Delicious. He’ll be sore in the morning.” Dimitri waves a dismissive hand at the prostitute, now staring at them with a weary resignation. “You can have her. I’m full.”
Sebastian eyes the woman, her ragged clothing and half-heartedly styled hair, with the critical glance of a butler inspecting the evening’s dinner. “No, I think not.” He says, turning away to walk in a different direction. “She is not quite to my liking.”
“A little too old for you, bro?” Dimitri says, matching Sebastian’s movements. He’s not following the pompous bastard….but company is company, and it’s boring to walk alone.
Sebastian snorts and doesn’t respond, only continues to stroll through the streets with silent steps. Eventually the whores and alcoholics and druggies are chased back into their private hells by the morning light, and the two demons fade into the shadows like they were never there.
For the rest of you, this is her request from quite a while ago. Nominally a Kuroshitsuji fic, but as it stars an OC and takes place in the present time, the only really canonical bit is Sebastian. Since no one besides me and Cassie actually know who the fuck Dimitri is...well, I think it's clear from the prose. He's a demon, and spends a lot of time with Sebastian, and I think that's all.
WARNING: As per the request, this contains RPF (Real Person Fantasy). Specifically, this features Muse band members Matthew Bellamy and Dominic Howard. This is, as stated, purely fantasy and does not presume any behavior or relationships involving said Real People and is not intended to imply anything about said people.
In other words: I'm making this shit up, so please don't sue me.
Dimitri stands in the middle of the crowded concert, tapping his feet to the music and staring at the stage with a hunter’s practiced eye. Some girl in glitter and tights fights through the crowd to reach him, grabbing his arm and smiling with sweat-smeared make-up, promises of a good time and, “Hey handsome, are you new in town?” spilling from her lips.
“Just passing through,” He smiles back, pointed teeth gleaming and eyes sparkling behind his shades. She’s cute, with the Indian features Dimitri will admit he’s got a weakness for, but he just smirks and says, “And thanks, but I’m not interested.” He is, not gonna lie, he’s hungry and he’s hard from the smell of humans and sex and sweat, but his eye’s caught on someone else, someone a bit more interesting.
The girl huffs off with a frown and flouncing black hair, but Dimitri doesn’t watch her go. He’s much more interested in the stage and the band, in watching the energy fly off of the performers in sparks and flashes. And he’s really interested in the looks that drummer keeps shooting at the lead, looks of lust and adoration half-hidden beneath the drama and glamour of the stage. The lead shoots them back, when he can, but still – there’s something Dimitri can use there.
Just taking and eating anyone who fell into his lap would be demeaning, not to mention boring, and frankly most humans aren’t worth the effort. Dimitri, like all demons, likes challenges and likes excitement, and humans – the right humans, the interesting humans like that kid Sebastian still won’t get over, like Dimitri’s thinking that drummer could be – are the most exciting things around. Boredom tastes like ashes and cheap alcohol on his tongue, and after he’d eaten another nameless, replaceable whore in a rented hotel room – fuck, he remembers more about the carpeting than the girl – Dimitri had started to wonder if Sebastian maybe had a point with being picky.
Not that Dimitri ever intends to tell Sebastian that. Smug prick would never shut up about it.
Dimitri stands and stares at the stage, with the beat pounding in his ears and the thrum of the crowd pulsing around him like a massive heart. Three songs left and the music’s not bad, some fuzzy-sounding rock with vocals that make girls swoon, but the physical senses have always been secondary to a demon and the energy in the arena is going to drive him mad soon.
He twitches, running his hands through hair and tugging on his belts through the next song, and the next and the next, fending off girls and boys trying to scrawl cell phone numbers on his arms or his hoodie. One boy succeeds, half-way through the last song as the vocalist belts out something in French, a guy smirking with blue-dyed bangs fanned across his face, pen in hand and digits on Dimitri’s hand – Dimitri smirks back, mocking and cold and slips out of the guy’s reach, walking through the crowd like smoke. The digits fade from his skin with just a flash of power as he walks.
Just when Dimitri feels like he’s going to explode from frustration or hunger or both, the concert ends with guitar pieces scattered across the stage like broken bones. The band waves, escaping backstage behind pyrotechnics and Dimitri slinks closer to the stage, as the pounding noise softens to a less furious hum. He’s hard as hell and he’s nearly bitten through his tongue because he just can’t wait much longer. It’s been weeks since he’s eaten.
Now, how to do this gig… He grins slowly, turning away from the slowly thinning crowd so his face is hidden and flipping his hood up to hide his hair, and with just a touch of power to twist his appearance like it’s play-doh… Bam. The new features are a bit uncomfortable, thinner and bonier than Dimitri likes and his head feels fucking bald with his hair this short, but this look will make it easier. His clothes, already skin tight, develop rips and mesh in the few spots where there wasn’t any already. With a smile he turns to sneak into the backstage. Who needs a pass?
“You look like a whore.” Dimitri pauses, his smile tightening at the voice echoing in his mind.
“You wouldn’t know style if it bit you in the ass.” He thinks back as he moves again, the security guards’ eyes slipping over him like he’s invisible as he slides between them to go backstage.
“Style,” the infuriately proper voice intones somewhere inside of Dimitri’s brain, “is unnecessary if one has the proper manners and charm.”
Dimitri rolls his eyes as he dodges stage crew. The idiot’s a butler for six fucking years and the speech sticks for centuries. “Charm?” he snorts back mentally. “Where have you been hiding that, next to the stick up your ass?”
The mental equivalent of a sigh fills Dimitri’s mind as he tries to find the drummer’s dressing room. “Are you almost done, little brother?” Sebastian finally mutters from wherever the hell he is. “I sat through this shameful cacophony you call music, and I’d like to start prowling.”
“Then start prowling. I’ve already picked mine for the night.” A pause as Dimitri finally finds a promising looking door – labeled “Dominic” which is what Dimitri thought the drummer’s name was…. “What, do you need me to hold your hand while you tempt some half-grown kid with promises of candy and a free puppy?”
A snort lodges in Dimitri’s mind, distracting him as he tries to listen through the dressing room door. Sounds like there’s more than one person in there… no good. “I,” Sebastian drawls, “just do not want my precious little brother to get hurt while he is wandering about in a strange place.” The sarcasm drips from Sebastian’s mental ‘voice’ and Dimitri rolls his eyes again. Condescending prick.
They’re both silent for a moment as Dimitri tries to focus on the dressing room. Wouldn’t do any good to barge in when his mark’s got a dozen groupies groping his ass… His mind reaches out, tiny tendrils of thought threading through the door to investigate, before Sebastian follows a few of them and sighs, distracting him again.
“You’re going after the drummer, then?” Like it was some sort of failure, or something. Dimitri rolls his eyes, feeling out the human presences in the room to be sure. Just two, which…is tolerable. Workable. Really, really annoying. Why can’t marks make it easy on him?
“Yeah, do you have a problem with that? Not high-class enough for you, obviously.” He sneers back, shifting his weight from foot to foot in impatience. He couldn’t just barge in…well, he could, but it’d be troublesome and as tasty as the drummer looked, he ain’t worth that. How to get this lovely little prey alone… “Now shut up and let me focus. I’m hunting.”
Sebastian lets out a dramatic sigh that echoes in Dimitri’s mind, but then finally – finally! – shuts the fuck up. Dimitri waits until he felt Sebastian’s mind pull back, and then focuses on getting that second person out of the dressing room. Hmm, could make some sort of distraction out here… but what would only get one of them? Dimitri stares, his eyes narrowing in annoyance as his mind reaches out.
…duh. Demon.
It takes a bit of focus, a little more effort than he really wanted to spent tonight, but Dimitri gets his power latched onto the mind that *doesn’t* feel like the drummer. It’s hard to tell, without getting closer, but it doesn’t matter either way. Claws in deep…and with a mental jerk, the other presence starts, and the door to the dressing room slams open.
The vocalist sprints out to find out what got his attention, a blush splashed across his face and blood dripping from a torn lip. Dimitri has to raise an eyebrow at the expression, but hey, none of his business really. It leaves the Dominic alone, so who cares? He smiles as he slips into the dressing room, sparing half a moment to shove Sebastian out of his mind completely. Thankfully the bastard doesn’t complain too much about it…
“Matt? I thought you just left.” The drummer asks in confusion as Dimitri walks in, before getting a good look. “Oh, sorry. I thought you were someone else.”
“Don’t worry.” Dimitri smiles, feeling his artificial features stretch in the expression. “I get that a lot. My name’s Dimitri.”
The man’s even more tempting this close, hair mussed and sweat dripping off bright green painted-on pants, shoes already discarded on the side of the room. Dimitri’s nose twitches – this close he can smell the sweat and the cologne and the powder smeared onto the drummer’s hands to keep the drumsticks from slipping. There’s something else, too, something that makes Dimitri smirk and shift closer. The pretty little drummer has semen on his breath, fresh and hot and probably smeared on his cheek.
Heh. That vocalist did look flushed as fuck as he came out…
He doesn’t bother hiding his hard-on as he steps closer, closer than most people would be able to get away with. The shadows deepen in the corners of the room with just a nudge of power, turning the light dim and sultry – romantic, maybe, coming from someone else, but Dimitri’s lacing lust into the beams, corrupting the very air without Dominic noticing. Most people never did.
“Dimitri, eh?” Dominic says, self-consciously fixing his hair with one hand. “So, do you want an autograph or something? I think I’ve got a pen somewhere…” The drummer glances around, not questioning how Dimitri got into a private dressing room or calling for security as he accepts Dimitri’s presence without a thought.
Sometimes it’s great to be a demon.
Dimitri clicks the lock closed with a brush of power, because as tasty as the vocalist – Matt, apparently – looks, and as little as Dimitri objects to gluttony, he’s not in quite in the mood for interruptions or distractions. Then he steps closer, close enough to touch like he’s wanted to for a fucking hour – close enough to press his fingers to suddenly dry lips and to feel Dominic’s shallow breath puffing against his hand.
“No autographs.” He whispers into the deep silence circling around them, letting his eyes fall hall-closed and pressing a bit of power through his fingertips. Not a lot, not enough to overpower or to break. Just enough to tempt. Demons don’t rape when it’s much more fun to corrupt. That’s one of the rules, always has been and even if it weren’t things wouldn’t change. Pushing someone into darkness gets old, but watching them jump never does. Dimitri grins, running his tongue over his teeth and watching Dominic’s wide eyes follow the movement. “You interested in groupie sex? I’m clean, promise.”
Dominic’s mouth opens, and then closes again to swallow. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t nod, doesn’t move a fucking muscle but Dimitri doesn’t need to be a demon to see the outline of his cock through his lime green pants. Dimitri grabs Dominic’s hip, pulling him close without resistance and trying to soften his own smirk. Shouldn’t scare the dear, not now… Nose to nose, chest to chest, cock to fucking cock, Dimitri shivers despite himself and whispers,
“You say no, I leave like I was never here. You say yes, I give you the best fucking sex of your life,” Dimitri pauses to run a long-nailed finger along the seam in those deliciously tight pants, “And no one has to know.” The prey has to agree – it’s more fun that way. Without the choice it’s butchery and boring butchery at that. If they don’t know what they’re agreeing too, well, that’s their own fault now isn’t it? He purrs against Dominic’s lips, not kissing, not yet, “So beautiful, what do you say? Do you want me?”
The still silence stretches on, wrapping around them both like a noose, like a grey ribbon dripped in blood and acid until it’s broken by Dominic’s harsh whispered, “Yes.”
Dimtri’s smile is just a little too cruel and just a little too vicious as he leans forward to finally, finally kiss him, twisting his fingers into lime-green belt-buckles to pull him closer. Dominic’s soft and responsive and – Dimitri chuckles, licking at Dominic’s lips. Pretty little drummer boy likes cherry flavored lip-balm, apparently - real cherry flavor, not the cheap artificial shit. Smirking, Dimitri drags kisses over Dominic’s lips and face, nipping just enough to see if Dominic likes it, before pausing at that fine neck and biting down with a fraction of his strength.
“Ah, fuck…” Dominic gasps as the teeth barely break the skin. Shit, hadn’t meant to do that…Dimitri pulls back as soon as he realizes, kissing slow and sweet and deep in apology.
“Sorry beautiful.” Another kiss, with a brush against Dominic’s trapped erection. “Don’t know my own strength, sometimes. I’ll make it up to you, promise.”
“It’s-” Dominic groans as Dimitri grinds against him, rocking his knee against him with another smirk, “It’s fine.” He finally gasps out, hands untangling from Dimitri’s hair to undo Dimitri’s multitude of belts. The belts thud and clink as they hit the floor, one by one, as Dominic undoes them to reach Dimitri’s skin-tight pants.
Dimitri grins against Dominic’s neck, kicking the belts out of the way once they’re all off and slipping out of his shoes. In return he starts to undo those fucking amazing lime green pants while they kiss, groaning into Dominic’s mouth as his own pants slide down his legs and his achingly hard cock pounds in the suddenly cold air. Why bother with underwear?
“I’ve been hard,” he whispers against Dominic’s ear as he finally gets the pants off, peeling them down Dominic’s legs, glad to find the drummer’s gone commando too, “For three fucking hours watching you on that stage. Do you have any idea how fucking hot you are?” He grabs Dominic’s cock, hard and dripping in his hand and pumps it slowly as he pushes Dominic back towards a nearby desk.
Dominic laughs a bit, wrapping his own hand around Dimitri’s cock as he steps out of his pants, shuffling backwards at Dimitri’s guidance. “Thanks, babe,” Dominic whispers back with a twist of his hand that makes Dimitri’s knees nearly give out, “You’re not bad yourself. Are you planning on using this beauty, or would you rather I?” He’s smirking, hair plastered to his face and Dimitri can’t help but kiss him slow and sweet.
He’s quite fond of these humans, really.
“I told you I’d give you the best sex of your life, didn’t I?” Dimitri smiles, grabbing Dominic’s tight ass and hefting him onto the desk. Just the right height, now. “Can’t do that if you’re blasting my brains out with your cock, can I? I’ll top, beautiful.”
Dominic shrugs, shifting to get comfortable on the desk. Dimitri steps between his legs and kisses down his neck again, trying to memorize what he tastes like. It’s one of Sebastian’s bits of “wisdom”, but one Dimitri actually agrees with – if they’re not worth remembering, then it’d be better to starve. Dominic makes breathy little whimpers, laughing,
“Then get on with it, before I get bored.”
Dimitri has to smile. Fucking humans, but he wouldn’t trade them for all of heaven.
He distracts Dominic with another blinding kiss, teeth and tongue against Dominic’s cherry-flavored lips while he gropes around in his hoodie pocket for lube, setting a condom aside for later. He grins as he finds it, a flash of power tweaking the flavor before he pulls it out and pulls back from the kiss, purring and displaying the tube with a flourish and a grin.
“Cherry flavored, just like you.”
Dominic starts to laugh, a cute little breathless chuckle, but Dimitri kisses him again, deep and slow with Dominic’s calloused hands twisting into his hair. Dimitri blindly pulls open the lube and pours some on his fingers, sparing half a second’s thought to shorten his fingernails to keep from hurting the poor guy. Sebastian wouldn’t mind – fuck, demons like it rough most of the time – but humans aren’t Sebastian, humans bleed and break and they’re all the more precious for their frailty.
He presses one finger in, and then two, swallowing Dominic’s gasp before nearly groaning himself, biting his tongue to keep silent. Dominic’s tighter than he expected, tight and tense and hot around Dimitri’s fingers as he fights with his own impatience and the maddening pulse in his head. Either that vocalist was fucking tiny or Dominic’s more of a top than he looks, but hell, Dimitri’s fucked virgins that were looser than this. He breaks the kiss to bite at Dominic’s ear, growling as he tries to stretch him gently.
Dimitri whispers adorations and compliments, flattery to distract him while he presses more power through his fingers, convincing the muscles to loosen and the lubrication to spread. Three fingers slip in, and then four as Dimtiri reaches deeper, deeper, feeling with his mind and his power until –
“Oh, god…” Dominic groans, fingers spasming and pulling on Dimitri’s artificially short hair. Dimitri just grins, chuckling breathlessly as he brushes that spot again and again until Dominic’s too close, eyes rolling into the back of his head. Don’t want him to come just yet. That’d ruin the fun.
Pulling out his fingers reluctantly, Dimitri kisses him again, licking up as much of that cherry lip balm as he can as he sheathes and lubes his cock. His blood is pounding and he’s panting, more than he really wants to admit to – he always loses it, always gets into it because he’s never wanted to learn Sebastian’s trick of staying straight-faced in sex. What’s the fucking point of that? No, Dimitri likes losing himself, likes letting the taste and the smell and texture of sweet humanity slide into his mind as he presses Dominic onto his back on the desk and slides himself in.
Dominic whimpers desperately as he arches his back, whispering with eyes closed and hands clenching, “Matthew, please.” like it’s a prayer or a mantra, like the old litanies Dimitri half-remembers from India and England and a dozen other places. It’s both hilarious and a touch insulting, so Dimitri leans down and whispers against his ear,
“I want to see those gorgeous eyes of yours, babe, so keep them open.”
Dimitri’s never liked being ignored.
Dominic obeys with some effort, disappointment and broken fantasies shading his expression for half a moment – and then blasted off in the next as Dimitri leans and bends in a way most people can’t to take that cock into his mouth as he thrusts. Mind you, most people aren’t Dimitri-fucking-Konstantinov, he thinks with a grin.
‘Can your guitarist do that?’ He thinks, smirking – he almost says it aloud, just to see the look on his face…but that would break the spell and the moment, shattering everything into reality. It’s still a bit too soon for that. Instead he softens his smirk and closes his eyes, letting every sense he has fill with the sensation of human lust and pleasure and the sheer spiritual power pouring into his head like the fucking Ganges.
He’d tried to explain what it felt like to taste a human soul, once, drunk off his ass from some homebrewed shit – he doesn’t even remember where it was now because demons have blackouts too. He’d curled up in the lap of someone he won’t remember, someone with jet black hair and laughing eyes, someone who’d kissed him on the nose and asked him all sorts of strange things.
It’s like a really, really good drug, he’d said, like birdsong and sugar and light spun together and tied up with a bright red ribbon all dipped in chocolate. It’s like an explosion of life behind his eyes, filling up the place where he’s probably supposed to have a soul. It’s like everything good and beautiful and awesome, he’d said, and that someone had just chuckled, the light of the setting sun turning his hair a world of shades and colors.
Fuck heaven, if it meant giving up this.
Dimitri leans in just a bit more, swallowing around Dominic’s cock and inhaling that delicious whimper. The guy’s close, close enough that Dimitri can fucking taste it on his pre-come and in the twang of his spirit, tighter and tighter until Dimitri pushes a single thread of power in and –
Boom.
Dominic’s coming like a fucking volcano, his teeth clenched nearly tight enough to crack and his semen splattering in Dimitri’s throat. It tastes good and it’s hot and Dimitri can’t help it, he can never help it at this point, moaning deep in his throat and thrusting his hips. His vision flashes white, energy and power flooding his being as he swallows down Dominic’s offering.
Some demons demand blood. Dimitri’s always preferred other sacrifices.
The sensation of his own body orgasming is nothing compared to the soul energy ping-ponging around in his skull and ribcage, letting off fireworks in his brain. His spine sags, Dominic’s cock slipping out of his mouth, and he almost collapses against Dominic as his arms shake, his breath puffing against Dominic’s shirt.
As much as he’s always tempted to fall asleep at this point, he knows he can’t – Sebastian would never shut up about it – so he straightens, sighing in pleasure. Dominic’s still gorgeous, even now, sweaty and asleep and pale from the energy drained. Dimitri stares fondly at the sleeping form for a moment, before kissing closed eyelids – a sentimental gesture he picked up somewhere he won’t admit, won’t remember – and turns away to leave as he buttons up his pants. The man’ll be fine in the morning – a little tired, sore as hell, but fine. Dimitri could have done worse.
Dimitri adjusts his hoodie and pulls out a cigarette, adjusting his hair back to its normal length with one hand as he lights the smoke with a half-second’s flash of power. He slinks out of Dominic’s dressing room with a slouch and a smirk, almost purring with contentment as the tangy taste of Dominic’s energy pulses in his throat and the place he assumes his soul’s supposed to be. Dimitri walks through the shadows and smoke until he reaches the exit, and then with a blown kiss in Dominic’s direction he leaves the arena and takes to the streets.
Sebastian joins him at the street corner, his trench coat brushing the tops of his high-heeled boots and a smirk of his own turning his benign appearance feral. They walk in silence for a moment, listening to the sounds of the city, with the drunk and the high and the whores in the alleyways filling the night with the devil’s symphony, the music of a world burning as it plunges to hell.
“So, little brother.” Sebastian says as they both pause near a street corner, eyes glued on a prostitute with heroin scars on her arms and the taste of desperation and despair in her sweat. “That drummer. Was he tasty?”
Dimitri smiles, his teeth gleaming in the streetlight. “Delicious. He’ll be sore in the morning.” Dimitri waves a dismissive hand at the prostitute, now staring at them with a weary resignation. “You can have her. I’m full.”
Sebastian eyes the woman, her ragged clothing and half-heartedly styled hair, with the critical glance of a butler inspecting the evening’s dinner. “No, I think not.” He says, turning away to walk in a different direction. “She is not quite to my liking.”
“A little too old for you, bro?” Dimitri says, matching Sebastian’s movements. He’s not following the pompous bastard….but company is company, and it’s boring to walk alone.
Sebastian snorts and doesn’t respond, only continues to stroll through the streets with silent steps. Eventually the whores and alcoholics and druggies are chased back into their private hells by the morning light, and the two demons fade into the shadows like they were never there.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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Date: 2010-05-31 03:14 am (UTC)I don't even know where to begin. I've been mindcrushed in the best of ways.
This—everything, the whole thing—was so worth the wait. I can’t even begin to tell you how amazing Dimitri is.
Our little brainchild is starting to become clearer! This is such a momentous occasion! –Holds up her cup of tea and sheds a little tear.-Dimitri Konstantinov is such a perfect, such a bitterly ironic name for him. I don’t think we could have come up with anything better. It is so him. Dimitri’s characterization was just…what I expected, and yet so much more. The lust and the coarseness and the snide confidence and the fuck, I want you now and the desperation evident in the small flashbacks you gave were just perfect. So, so perfect—so Dimitri.You were worried about writing Dominic. I see that, but the only reason that is evident to me is because I am an unrestrained fanpoodle and know entirely too much about this band. Overall, you did a superb job in his characterization. You don’t know much about him—other than what I’ve told you, and most of that is LOL PRINCESS DIVA DOM METROSEXUALITY FAFF BAG SKINNY JEANS MOISTURIZER HE’S SO FAR IN THE CLOSET HE’S IN NARNIA—so of course writing for him must’ve been a stretch, but you executed his character very well. I can’t quite see Dominic falling asleep after that kind of sex—I imagine it would just make him more pumped up, and he’d be eager for another go-around—but Dimitri’s a BAMF demon, so I see why you went in that direction. (Plus, it makes Dimitiri’s grand exit that much more easy…and the would-be-drabble was already at ~4000 words, so I’m glad you didn’t go ~overboard~. XD)
I’ll top, beautiful.”
Dominic shrugs, shifting to get comfortable on the desk.
That was a very simple, yet smooth and effective way of getting around the whole, “Shit, who is going to top?” situation. I can see Dominic nonchalantly shrugging at such a question. I’m pretty sure he and Matt switch off, anyway. He probably wouldn’t care about the minor details, as turned on as he is at that moment.
Matthew James Bellamy turning red like a blushing bride. My life is now complete.
Like I’ve told you, I wasn’t expecting sex. I was expecting some serious making-out, but not sex. The sexual energy was very raw and potent, which fits Dominic, and—to a more extreme level—Dimitri. It was very well done. No fabrications or artsy words or emotion or over-thinking, just very raw and bare. It fit the atmosphere quite well.
“Then get on with it, before I get bored.” That is Dominic James Howard to a T.
And speaking of which, cherry-flavored lip balm?—nice. The man moisturizes like no one’s business, and I’m sure he strives to keep his lips ~properly kissable~ at all times
because he never knows when Matt’s going to back him into a corner and say flat out, “Fuck this. Let’s shag.Dominic whimpers desperately as he arches his back, whispering with eyes closed and hands clenching, “Matthew, please.” like it’s a prayer or a mantra… Easily one of my favorite parts of the entire ficlet—mirrors a lot of my writing style, actually. I like that you managed to still bring it back to Matt. I admit, I was a bit worried when Dom gave into the sex so willingly when he’d just helped Matt get off, but that one line managed to sort of knot everything together—while simultaneously insulting Dimitri. And then later, Dimitri shoots back with, ”Can your guitarist do that?” PFF. Such a simple, childish remark, but gives so much insight into Dimitri’s intricate personality. A+, my dear.
One thing I don’t quite understand is why Dimitri changes his appearance. He’s thinner, bonier, and gives himself short hair. That reminds me of Matt. Did you do that just to get past security?—or did you intentionally give him more Matt-like features for Dom’s sake?
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Date: 2010-05-31 03:15 am (UTC)Sebastian joins him at the street corner, his trench coat brushing the tops of his high-heeled boots and a smirk of his own turning his benign appearance feral.That. Fucking. Killed. Me. It’s ridiculous how even the sparsest descriptions of Sebastian can threaten to induce spontaneous combustion. Sebastian fucking Michaelis in a fucking trench coat with those fucking shoes. Fuck. And Dimitri in a hoodie with a cigarette… Are you trying to kill me?
The ending was absolutely amazing. You managed to convey so much in such few words. Simple, yet perfect.
♥ I cannot thank you enough.
P.S. Your continuity was fine.