Once is never enough

If there was one thing that Felix could be sure on was that Friday night for Henrick was spent in the library or his room - with his nose buired in a book. Even one day before his birthday and he was off in hiding, reading one of those classic literature books of his. His booksmarts were something that Felix liked about him, but also thought were more or less a pointless waste of his memory space. As a human Henrick didn't use as much of his brain that was available to him as thus wasting it by learning things that most of which he would never use later in life was quite literally a waste of space.

Normally, Felix would turn up and try to distract Henrick from his work with conversation. Today he had a different idea entirely.

He'd checked the library, just incase he was in the more inconvieniant of places, and luckily the younger male wasn't there. Which lead him to wandering down the hall towards Henrick's room, hands sunk into the pockets of his white denim jacket. He didn't bother knocking on the dorm door, letting himself into Henrick's room and flopping down on his bed.

Henrick was at his desk. He didn't even look up when he greeted him with a "Hello, Felix," and a smile curling his lips. "And what can I do for you?"

Felix stretched out on the soon-to-be fifteen years old's bed, arching upwards as he pushed his shoulders into the matress. "Its your birthday tomorrow, and you're doing homework."

"I happen to like doing homework," the younger replied, still without looking up.

Felix jumped up off the bed and sauntered up behind Henrick. Leaning down over him, a hand wandered down his front while lips kissed at Henrick's neck. "I happen to like doing you," he purred.

This caused Henrick's eyes to widen. He dropped his pen, allowing it to roll off his desk. He didn't even watch it. They had only been intimately close the once. Henrick had begun to worry that he wasn't good enough for Felix and that was why he'd never let them get that close again. Whenever he'd tried to get Felix to move things further the older male would shake his head, get up and change the subject entirely. The only reassuring thing was that Felix didn't give him up entirely. It still didn't feel good though.

"I thought you'd gone off me, or that you were ashamed because I wasn't good enough..." Henrick admitted in a quiet voice, a blush flourishing over his cheeks.

"I was going to wait until your fifteenth birthday, but Christmas just got to me. I've not had a proper Christmas for a while, so spending it with you made things special." He continued kissing Henrick's neck. "I always want things to be special with you."

"And they're not normally?"

"I have a creature attached to my spine, Henry, and it's got so many memories that float through me that I need to make them special to remember that they're mine." Felix let out a heavy sigh and rested foorehead atop Henrick's head, breathing in the scent of his shampoo and nuzzling into his soft hair. "And believe me, you were more than good."

Henrick turned a deep red, turning around in the chair to look up at Felix. "But...?"

Felix gave him a bright grin that reached all the way up to his green eyes. "But what?"

Henrick frowned, looking down at the carpet. "You don't want to do it again."

There was a laugh, and Felix dropped to his knees in front of Henrick, twisting and tilting his head to look at Henrick's face. "For all your booksmarts, sometimes you neglect to hear all the information. I said that I was going to wait. But I didn't. Which means now that the time I originally intended to wait for is now here I can do what I planned to do, but with the added knowledge of just how amazing in bed you are." Shifting in closer, a hand reached up to cup Henrick's cheek. Closing the gap between them both, Felix kissed his boyfriend on the lips, brushing his own pair softly over Henrick's.

Unable to resist, Henrick kissed back, reaching out with his own arms to wrap them around Felix's neck. Just as things were starting to heat up, Felix pulled back and hopped onto his feet. Drifting his fingertips down Henrick's arms, he took hold of the younger male's hands and pulled him up into a standing position before leading him over to the bed.

Crawling up over the lad now on his back, Felix grinned down at him, speaking between their kisses. "After today," he began "We'll have more sex."

"Fe-Felix..." Henrick breathed, blushing a brighter red than he ever had before.

Mothers

"Mom!"

"And then I think you should offer to take him out somewhere nice. I can ask your uncle if he has space available to fit you in. He's just had an extention built on Madilynns, I'm sure he can get you a table."

"But Mom-"

The woman on the other end of the phone seemed to either be ignoring her son, or too lost within her own thoughts to take into account that her eldest was trying to interrupt her as she offered up suggestions of how he could get closer to his older room mate. With a heavy sigh, he placed her on speaker phone and went to make himself a cup of tea, leaving her voice to fill the lounge of the spacious apartment Kasper Walker had aquired.

Finally she said "Dawson, are you still there?"

"I'm here, Mom. You just seemed quite happy to suggest things I'm not going to do. Kass and I just don't have that kind of relationship."

"Is he there with you now?"

"He's at the hospital. Marshall needs another blood donation."

"Kass is so sweet, always donating to his adopted father. It was such luck that they adopted a boy who could help Marshall out."

Dawson sighed, giving the phone stand a small smile. His mother didn't know the truth about Kasper and the man whom adopted him. She didn't know about Vincent being a werewolf, although she had her suspicions. His aunt Ainsley and uncle Christian were adept at keeping the information from her. His father had promised never to let the secret slip when Vincent first joined the school he taught at, and wasn't going to release the information any time soon. No one outside of Kass' family other than Dawson himself knew about Marshall's 'affliction' either.

And Dawson had only found out by accident.

Kass had wandered out of the shower with a towel around his waist, not know that Dawson was home. Before that, Dawson had never seen Kass' bare torso. With a docotor for an uncle, Dawson recognised some of the scarring that marred Kasper's back.

He'd had a spinal operation. When Kass saw him looking, he didn't feel the need to hide it. That evening, he sat down and told Dawson everything. From the Institute that had bought him from his neglective parents, to some of thing things he remembered them doing to him. The lies the scientists told about him being used to help countless sick people - not one man who needed to eat human flesh to live - and then finally Marshall visiting one day to discover just where the source of his 'cure' came from. Marshall had been told it was a plant when in truth it was a little boy who was frightened and so very alone.

At age six, Kasper finally had a place to call home. Marshall took the poor boy with him. Marshall knew of a place that could properly analyse Kasper's gift, and finally they developed a 'cure' that didn't involve removing Kasper's spinal fluid. He still had to give regular donations, but at least it was blood and not something that could paralize him.

Then came the incident when Vincent escaped and attacked Kasper. The bite was still there on his arm as a faded scar. Instead of changing when Vincent did the following full moon, Kasper remained human, with the added luxury of no longer being a target for the werewolf. The same blood running through his viens that was injected into Marshall to remove the need for him to eat human flesh held the same properties for Marshall when Vincent lost control once more and attacked the one he loved.

It was because of this that Kasper felt able to move out. Had it not been for the fact the two of them could be together, even when the full moon rose, Kasper said he probably never would have left home.

Were it not for that night Dawson probably would never have found out. Kasper hated keeping secrets, but knew that there were some secrets that needed to be kept. He felt close enough and trusted Dawson to the point where he felt the younger male would keep those dark secrets. It also resulted in Dawson seeing Kasper in a whole new way.

When he told his mother the next day that he'd seen a whole different side to his room mate and felt differently towards him she took it that Dawson was interested in Kasper in a more sexual and possibly romantic way. Since then she seemed insistent that they get together. Her enthusiasm even managed to spread to her little sister. Ainsley had grown up with Vincent and Marshall - and Vincent was more to her than a mere friend - which meant that she too was interested in Dawson getting together with Kasper. She just helped her sister out in her own, more sophisticated and less energetic way.

"When do you think he'll be home?"

"Why are you so interested, Mom?" Dawson asked, sinking onto the sofa that Kasper didn't use as a gymnasts horsebox.

There was a sigh over the phone. "I want my boy to be happy, and Kass is such a sweet guy. I know I seem like I'm being too pushy, but I just want what I feel is best for my son. Its a mother-thing."

"Grandma didn't push you into being with Dad."

"Thats because your Dad was always joking with her that he'd end up with either your uncle or myself. It came more of a shock when it came true, but I always knew that I loved Roo in a way that went beyond a brotherly affection, it just took a lot of things to go wrong before things went right."

"But Mom, I don't see Kass in that kind of way."

She chuckled. "You'll find out."

"Izzy, are you interfereing again?" came a voice just noticeable in the background.

"Uncle Chris?" Dawson asked, recognising the voice speaking on the phoneline.

"Hey there Dawson!" Chris chimed. "Do you want me to distract your mother with food so that she'll leave you alone for a while?"

Dawson smiled, nodding despite the fact that neither of them could see him. "Thanks Uncle Christian."

"That's not fair and you know it Chris! No, I want to convince my son to get with the really handsome Walker boy because they'd make such a cute couple. Oh, okay, bye Dawson! I love you!"

"Love you too, Mom!" and the line went dead.

"Really handsome Walker boy?"

Dawson swung around to see Kasper standing by the door, just about to close it behind him. Trying to hide the shock that spread across his face, Dawson shifted himself on the couch, trying to hide his embarressment from the older male. "You, erm, heard that?"

Kasper grinned, finally closing the door and heading further into the apartment, shedding his coat as he went. "I know most people think we're a couple or something, but I didn't know your Mom thought that about us too."

Dawson fidgeted on the couch again, feeling a little uneasy about the whole situation unfolding before him. Kass was getting ever closer to him, unfastening the top few buttons of his shirt. The sleeves were rolled up, one arm bearing the bandage used to cover the needle wound where they removed his blood to help keep his adopted father alive. No wonder his mother liked him, Kass gave without wanting anything in return - a truly selfless person.

"My Mom has her own opinion on many things. She seems to think you're attractive," he replied, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.

Kass chuckled, sinking down on the couch beside Dawson. He leaned over, grinning like a Cheshire cat. "Don't you think the same?" He reached over, brushing his fingertips over Dawson's cheek. "After you saw those scars, after I told you my secrets, do you really think you'd get away with not sharing yours?"

Dawson pulled back once he realised his eyes were slipping closed and that he was enjoying the soft touch from the other. "I don't have anything to hide."

"You sing show tunes in the shower."

"That's not a dark secret."

Kasper grinned, leaning in so close that Dawson had nowhere else to go but to merge with the sofa cushions behind him. Kass' breath was warm on his face, and smelled faintly of hazlenuts and coffee. "And I know that you never complain when I wrap my arms around you, or nuzzle into your sweet smelling hair." To prove a point he reached up and stroked his fingers through Dawson's hair. "Dazzy, do you think it wrong of me to like you more than as just my friend?"

Dawson smirked. "I think I can hear my Mom cheering from here." And with that he closed the distance between them both, pressing his lips to Kass' soft pair, tasting the warmth of a freshly drunk coffee with hazelnuts still on his lips. Arms looped around the older males neck while he moved on the sofa to lay beneath Kasper who seemed to know just exactly what Dawson wanted and moved with him until they both settled in the perfect position; Kasper straddling young Dawson.

After a few minutes of kissing, the phone rang again.

"Ignore it."

"It's probably my Mom."

"Another reason why you should ignore it," Kass purred as he kissed down Dawson's neck. "Let her stew on ways of how to get us together."

"How do you know?"

"She leaves messages on the machine, and a few times I've been around while its recorded. Your uncle's place sounds quite nice, and I think I would like to visit your family for Daphne's birthday this year."

Dawson sighed, reaching out from underneath Kasper to answer the phone. "Hello?"

"Honey! I thought I'd check back with you about that idea I had. Chris said he doesn't mind letting you two-"

"Hiya Izzy!" Kasper called, cutting her off mid-sentence.

"Kasper! Hello. Dawson, you could have said I was on speaker phone."

"Izzy, I think its a great idea. Dazzy and I are free on Friday, can he fit us in then?"

"Huh? What?"

Beneath Kasper, Dawson felt himself going red and blushing redder than a tomato. Chuckling in embarrassment, he hid his face behind his hands. "Its all her fault," he muttered.

"Did you say something, Dawson?"

Kasper laughed. "He said thank you for meddling."

Testing.1..2...3...

Usually I don't post anything but drabbles, but I thought I'd use the current 'productiveness' that I have going to trail some ideas.

Ideas over older versions of characters that possibly won't get a home on the forums short of being single section future posts.

All this, of course, was inspired by the previous drabbled featuring Dawson - and the trailer I saw at the cinema for the new show going to feature on ITV in 2009.

This young man is Christian Cooke (as it says on the image xD ) and this sparked the idea of "I need a PB for Dawson!!"

I thought perhaps it would be a good idea first to search the Internet for other ideas, since this little dumpling has little in the way of photographs - I'm hoping that gets fixed once Demons airs.

Speaking of photographs for Christian - my fellow followers of Doctor Who should know this guy. Hint: he wears one of those cute red caps (:

Another reason why I like him is beyond the idea of Dawson but the actor. Well, it include Dazzy, but, yanno, point-to-point linking.

Christian Cooke starred in the show Echo Beach which also starred Ed Speelers who my darling Calipo uses as the PB for Marshall who happens to be the adopted father of Kasper who Dawson ends up living with once Ainsley gets wind of him needing a roommate.

See where I'm going with it?

He also has really pretty eyes xD

Another guy I found to play as Dawson also suffers from a lack of imagery.

This is Jordan McPhee. His eyes just remind me of the watery depths that Dawson gains from both his parents - especially his father. Sadly, that's all I know about him other than he's a singer in some band.

There's no fancy pants chain to link the actor to my own strange ideas and roleplaying fantasies. Still, he's pretty and sometimes that is all it takes.

Last but not least is Kevin Zegers.

I'm not quite sure whom I'm going to pick, but its highly likely that it'll be Christian. I mean he's going to fight vampires, demons and WEREWOLVES!

The others will prolly find themselves used for something.

Perhaps Matthew for when I feel like adapting him more from just a feature with Jamie and Nat x3

Now all that is over with, onto older!Christian. I was originall going to use Hugh Jackman, but then I found something much more 'super'.

Brandon Routh. Beautiful dark eyes. See, originally Christian Hearst was going to be blond. Opposite to his twin sister in many aspects. But blondes with brown eyes are hard to come by, so he scored brown hair after I found a cute teenage style PB for him. But, he's gotta grow up sometime - and I think Maddie would be pleased as to what her little boy grows up to be xD

It's all in the eyes!!

I'm sorry, but I can't get back to you this year

It was Christmas Eve and Dawson was snowed in. With a heavy sigh he stared out of the apartment window as the snowed came down harsher and harsher. Roads were closed, planes were grouneded. There was no way he'd get to his family in time for any kind of special celebrations. His grandmother had finally passed down the lead role as Christmas hostess to his mother, who has quickly given it to his uncle - because he can cook - only this year it had been snatched up by Daphne.

Staring through the window he wondered how many of them were able to get together this year. His aunt Ainsley would force the weather to co-operate with her. Jake would try his best to bring his family over, and still be able to visit Hannah's family before New Year. A few years ago his grandfather on his mother's side had taken up going abroad for Christmas. Apparently this year they were off to Japan to celebrate with some of Tetsu's family, or if that failed they were going somewhere warm. The weather would force them to stay, but they'd still find a way to get to the family Christmas part. His own sister would plough through any weather, dragging his baby brother with her to see their parents, grandparents and the rest of the family.
His grandfather Star would visit his great-grandmother's grave before he and David would head for Daphne's home.
Uncle Christopher would show up for a few hours on his way back to his own family to deliver presents and then head off.
Aunt Jenny and Uncle Bailee would do all they could to get to Daphne's, but if the weather resisted they'd stay home. The youngest of the twin boys was too sickly to manage a long drive in the cold these days.

Dawson could remember how his grandfather David looked everytime Bailee or Daisy called with news that the lad was in hospital with breathing problems. Dawson was sure every time his nephew went into hospital David aged a few years. Hopefully the coming new year would be a good year for his nephew.

Behind him he heard the door to the apartment open and someone walk in. They stomped snow off their shoes after closing the door.

"Dazzy!" he the male called out, hoping over the couch to siddle up behind Dawson and shake snow from his hair over him. "I thought you were gone for Christmas!"

"I'm stuck."

"Well, you know you really shouldn't glue yourself to things,"

Dawson turned to face the male with bright eyes and blond hair. "Kass, I can't get to my family. No planes are running and all roads are practically snowed under."

Kasper grinned. "So that explains the long face."

"At least you're as cheery as ever," Dawson replied, turning back to the window.

"Pffft. You learn to live with the knowledge that life is shite."

"Not visiting your family?"

"Its a full moon just after Christmas Day. That means my dearest 'Cent is going to be moody, grumpy and likely to want to spend his time humping my Dad."

"Thank you for the image."

Leaning forwards, Kasper rested his chin on Dawson's head and looped his arms around the younger male's shoulders. There was a six year difference in age between them, but everyone they met had the idea they were together. After the upbringing Kasper had people were certain the male was as gay as his parents. Kasper said he 'resented' that assumption - because his Dad was bisexual and only his 'Cent was gay. Although, even Dawson's own mother commented on how a cute couple they were.

Dawson, however, knew the older male's dark secrets. Things that he dare not tell his own mother. His aunt Ainsley promised to keep all the secrets safe. Afterall, one of Kasper's parents happened to be Ainsley's 'pet' werewolf. There were enough gay males in Dawson's family - did they really need anymore?

"So, you're not visiting your family this year?"

"They're all I have, Dazzy. You know I don't want to ever meet my real parents ever again." Kasper bore scars both physical and mental when it came to his real family. They had not only neglected him when he was a baby, but once they discovered his 'gift', they sold him to a fate worse than child abuse. "I've missed a few Christmases over the years. I promised to be over for New Year. Its not as cute anymore snuggling up to the big black furry thing."

"Which is why you have that black fur blanket in your room?" Dawson chuckled. "And you curl into it on the couch when you're ill."

Kasper snorted. "It doesn't smell like him though."

The fur blanket had been a gift from Marshall for Kasper's eighth birthday. It was before Vincent had 'attacked' Marshall, but not long after he had bitten Kasper. That gift that originally had him sold was what saved him from becoming like his adopted father. It also resulted in doing the same for Marshall. Instead of turning when Vincent did, Kasper remained human - with one difference - Vincent's werewolf form no longer held any desire to attack him. There was something in Kasper's blood - or perhaps his DNA, no one was quite sure and Marshall refused to tell him details - that destroyed anything that was abnormal; from werewolf venom to metabolism like no other. But, since Vincent was no longer a threat to Kasper, it was he that stayed with him during the nights where he felt most alone. And since Kasper's blood and spinal fluid was inside Marshall, it also protected him the same way when Vincent bit him. Now Vincent was never alone, especially since Ainsley couldn't visit the way she used to.

The thing with Ainsley though, despite not saying it to him directly, Dawson knew she'd love to have a reason for Vincent to be a true part of her family. If only those eyes of her's acted as love beams she'd stare Dawson and Kasper down in order for the pair to get hitched the very next day.

But could his grandmother handle having a werewolf in the family?

"You smell nice though," Kasper added, nuzzling into Dawson's hair. It was then Dawson realised he'd been off in his own thoughts for a while.

"Kass?"

"Dazz?"

"Do you like my aunt Ainsley?"

"You mean the strange woman with the creepy eyes?"

"Yeah - her."

"I think she's sweet, if not a little creepy. I swear one day she's going to arrest me for something."

"Then stop doing illegal things."

"I mean she'd do it for fun. Its not like I'm running a mafia-like organization from my bedroom."

"My aunt takes her job seriously," Dawson chided. "And I hope you're not running any kind of criminal orginaztion from this apartment. I pay half the rent."

Kasper chuckled, nuzzled Dawson's cheek then slipped away, hopping over the couch like a limber gymnast on his way to lif the phone. He took the same route back to Dawson, kneeling down on one knee while presenting Dawson with the phone. "Dawson Nathan Hughes - will you do me the honor of calling your family and letting them know you're having hot gay sex with me and therefore will be unable to visit them for Christmas."

"You do know my mother would love that," Dawson replied as he took the phone from him. A small grin curled at one side of his lips. Kasper could always cheer him up. He was quite thankful that Ainsley knew Kasper's adoptive family, otherwise he never would have found an apartment - and a great friend.

Leaving Kasper to his own devices, Dawson hopped down from the bar stool he sat upon and made himself comfortable in the big armchair. The amount of phonecalls he was going to need to do was going to rake up a serious phonebill. Especially since the first person he would ring was going to be his mother - and she could score quite a bill when she got going.

Dreams

A.N: Harhar, dreams much?


He was dressed in a white shirt. A flowing white shirt. Ruffled, with an open collar and cuffs. It reminded him of a shirt a pirate would wear. Loose fitting but looked right in all the right ways. And the things on his legs...What were they - breeches? Black, tight, he was surprised he didn't squeak every time he tried to move. The boots were desgined to be fashionable and practicale. Also in black. He felt like he looked like a rejected noble man for an American made-movie about medieval England.

Surely he had to be dreaming.

Whatever questions he had about what was going on they weren't going to be answered by his twin as he burst into the room - another 'medieval England' set - wearing a monk/friar robe.

"Theo!?"

Theodore grinned and trotted over to his brother. "Great Nathanael Hood!" he exclaimed. "Your beloved has been captured by the evil Sheriff!"

"Oh God..."

"Don't blaspheme before a man of God."

Nat rolled his eyes at his twin. "Robin Hood isn't related to Friar Tuck."

"Who now?"

"I take it my beloved is Evander?"

Theo broke out in a huge grin "Yes! Maid Manly-Evander has been kidnapped, and in order for him to gain his freedom you must hand yourself over to the Sheriff of Constanceham."

Placing a hand on his face in dismay, Nat allowed everything to sink in. This simply had to be a dream. Evander had once mentioned dreaming that he was in Wonderland. Some great cosmic force seemed to enjoy giving poor Evander the lead female roles.

So, he was Robin Hood, and was about to embark on saving his Maid Marian from the evil Sheriff of Nottingham.

Or - he was Nathanael Hood, and was about to embark on a hilarious jounrey to save his Maid "Manly"-Evander from the evil Sheriff of Constanceham.

Surely his unconcious couldn't have though of something as ridiculous as this?

Especially Theodore as Friar Tuck.

Nat quickly decided that it was perhaps for the best that he see the dream through.

"Right then, Friar Theo, summon my men and we shall rescue my love the way they do in the movies! Bring me my bow and arrows!"

"Do I look like your lap dog?"

Another rolling of his eyes, and Nat swept past his twin, leaving the room. Like a dream he was in a forest surrounded by various men dressed in the typical 'poor man of the medieval' outfits. Looking over them all, he tried to spot which of them he recognised as people from his waking world. And whom may end up taking the role of Little John.

"Am I bollocks being 'little'" announced Tetsu, skulking up to the front line in a finely designed outfit that simply screamed 'I am above these lowly peasants'. Oh, and 'I'm gayer than a drag queen on gay parade with rainbows on'.

"Little Tetsu?" Nat asked.

"If you ask me to do anything that involves me getting dirty, I'm stuffing this bow so far up your arse you'll shoot arrows through your mouth." He held up the long bow for emphasis, then stormed off, grumbling about height and Cheshire Cats.

Nat turned to his brother who was snickering as he stood beside him. "Dare I ask who the Sherrif of Constanceham is? Or even the Prince?"

"Sheriff Alastar and Prince David?" Theo answered, in a bright a cheery way.

"Oh God..."

"What did I tell you about blasphemy?"

Nat narrowed his eyes at Theo. "Firstly; you're encouraging a gay relationship. Secondly; I don't care. This is my dream and I'll blaspheme as much as I bloody well want to. Now point me in the direction of the castle and I'll go and rescue Evander so that I can wake up from this crazy dream." Nat was fuming by now, glaring at his brother. "And if you say I have to fight any damn monsters on the way once I wake up I'm going to tell Lila that it was you that stole her arm and left it in Alfredo's mop bucket."

Friar Theo just looked confused and pointed Nat in the direction of the castle he was to head for. "I'll - uhm - get your horse."

"Bollocks."

It seemed that his dream had at least catered for the fact he was to ride a horse. The dream, however, wasn't finished toying with him. The moat for the castle where Evander was being held (he was peering out through the window of the tallest tower and combing his long brown hair) was as wide as an ocean.

"I can't catch a break, can I?" Nat asked his conciousness. "Lets invert this crazy dream into a nightmare. for the hydrophobic."

"At least you're not a horse." replied Jojo the mohawked mare. "I need a cigarette."

Climbing down from the saddle, Nat cautiously approached the edge of the moat where the drawbridge would be if it were there. He could feel his heartbeat racing in his chest as he looked at the swirling, dark waters before him. Looking to the castle, he saw guards standing on the battlements.

"Hey, you up there! Mind lending me a hand?"

"I've only got two, I can't lend them 'cus I need them!" one yelled down.

"Zak, be nice to the handsome theif," said the blond to the brunet. He had a pair of white feathered wings attached to his armor.

"My armor is itchy," said the first. "I can't scratch my butt through this metal, and I think I need to pee."

"Are you two even paying attention to me?" Nat called up to the pair who seemed engaged in their own conversation. He recognised their voices, but with the helmets on their heads he was a little unsure if it was the idiot pair he believed them to be.

A third wandered up and removed their helmet. More importantly - her helmet.

"Martha!" Nat yelled, waving his hand. "Convince those two idiots to lower the drawbridge for me!"

Lake and Zak turned to look down at Nat and waved.

"Your mother was a fish and your father ate elderberries!" Zak yelled down with the worst French accent in all of known history.

"I don't think that's how it goes," Lake said.

Martha leaned against the castle wall. "Why should we let you in, Nathanael Hood?" she asked, grinning wickedly. "Why not just swim the moat?"

"Yeah!" chorused the pair of males either side of her. Zak waved his wooden sword in the air for addded effect. "Swim the moat!"

"I'm hydrophobic!" Nat admitted. "I can't swim it"

"Well that's a good enough answer for me." And Martha grabbed Zak and Lake by the wrist and dragged them off. A few moments later the drawbridge lowered and Nat raced across it. As he dashed past the three guards, he heard Zak asking Martha what a "hydromobic" was. Heading for where he saw Evander, he reached the main hall only to be stopped by a swift kick to the back of the head. Next thing he knew he was being dragged by the ankle towards the throne.

"Thank you, my assassins," said a voice, and Nat's ankle was dropped. Opening his eyes, he looked up at the back's of two males. A blond and a brunet with hair so dark it was almost black. He heard one cough and then say "It was Florian who captured him, my Lord."

"Because you have the lung capacity of a five year old asthamatic," muttered the blond as the pair walked away. "Still think you could have let me kill him."

Forcing himself to sit up, Nat looked back to where the pair were leaving, and then to the throne where Professor Malone sat wearing a crown tilted to one side. Evander sat beside him in a white dress looking none-to-happy about the whole situation. Standing on David's other side was Professor Hughes.

"Nathanael Hood," David began. "You prank the rich to amuse the poor. You have been found guilty of several counts of Pranking and one count of stealing Alfredo's mop. In order to pay for your crimes I have devised the perfect punishment."

Nat wondered if dying would also result in him waking up. "My punishment?"

"Cookies!" announced david happily and bounced out of his throne and over to Nat with a plateful of cookies.

At which point Nat woke up and fell out of bed.

Verochka

Tatyana Vera "Verochka" Addison-Dale.

She was pretty dresses with combat boots.

Fairy wings with spiked collars.

The first time Donovan ever set eyes on her she was kicking a coke machine. She was dressed in a cute pink dress, the skirt set into ruffles - almost like something a little girl would wear. Only she had a pair of stripe socks that came abover her knees and a set of purple boots on her feet. Her hair was obviously dyed, a dark black-purple with reddish-pink highlights - pulled up into a messy pony tail. She wore a pair of pink Skullcanday headphones and a lollipop in her mouth.

As he walked passed on his way to the Headmaster's office she looked up at him with blue-green eyes and grinned before running off in the direction he'd just come.

The next time he saw her was lunch.

Coming from a small town school to a larger school was a difficult transition for Donovan. He didn't know anyone, and everything was just like in the movies - perhaps even worse. The popular kids ruled all. Donovan was a novelty for about three seconds with them. One kid in his first class - Peter - seemed set on scooping up a 'new friend'. Donovan went along with it since there was no way he was ever going to be popular here. At lunch Peter introduced Donovan to his group of friends.

One snickered a "Can we call you Donny?" to which Donovan firmly told them all "No, and no one is to ever think of doing such a thing." He faded into unknown conversation, picking up only when something he knew came his way.

She walked in, a tall and lithe blond male at her side. The popular females turned their noses up at her, and she merely grinned back in return, saying something that from this distance Donovan couldn't hear. He couldn't even read her lips to find out what she had said.

"Who's she then?" he asked Peter. Was the blond her boyfriend? They didn't seem like a couple. There was something off about the boy.

"Her name's Tatyana," announced Annabelle, one of the vocal of Peter's group of friends. "The guy is Alexander, only everyone just calls him Lexu. She thinks she's special or something because she's got famous parents. Sharona hates her because her father refuses to let her model for him."

"I don't follow the celebrity scene," Donovan admitted.

Peter rolled his eyes. "Fashion," he almost spat. "Models, A-list celebrities. She gets star-treatment everywhere but here - unless you're a teacher. Then you suck up to her."

"So she's a snob?"

Annabelle clicked her tongue, shaking her head. "She's lovely. Sweet, caring, and a wonderful person."

This confused Donovan. "But why the hate?"

"Because she hates the labels of high school. She doesn't like to fit in a clique, so she's either your friend or your enemy. But never try to get on her side to get to those parents of her's. You know the model Juliet Morhan?"

Donovan shrugged. "Heard of her."

"Her father is Lake Dale; Juliet's agent. Well, her adopted father is."

"What's her real father do?"

"Thats a black stain," added Nicolas, a green eyed red head. "No one knows. Even Tatyana."

"Her name sounds foreign."

"So does Donovan," snickered Peter.

"It's Irish." Donovan was very particular about his name.

"Tatyana is Russian. She's got two fathers."

"A lot a gossip surrounding her then?"

Annabelle chuckled. "You have no idea. Her mother is Noelle Addison. She's a photographer too. Only she does those big fancy premiers and stuff - so she's not home often." She scooted her chair back and began to rummage around into her bag. After a few minutes she pulled out a rolled up magazine. Flipping through the pages she found what she was looking for and passed it to Donovan.

He knew he had seen this girl somewhere before. She was photographed with a beautiful woman with vibrant blood red hair. The two bore a striking resemblance to one another, almost like sisters but not quite.

He scanned the article "Photographer to the stars Noelle comes before the camera to bear all," he read aloud.

'Noelle Karon Addison is the source of many amazing photographs of everyones favourite celebrities. But while she hides behind the lense to look at stardom, fame lives within her own home. Rumors abound about her relationship with the one and only Lake Dale surround her and her daughter; Tatyana.

Noelle, the first think everyone wants to know - what's your relationship with Lake Dale?
(Chuckle) Well, it all started a while ago. He was late for a show, and as fate would have it he crashed into me. It all began then. We talked a lot and found we had so much in common. He was only nineteen - only just getting into the profession. He'll kill me when he reads this, but oh well. He was cute, few years younger than me, but I thought 'What the heck?' and asked him about his relationship status.

And?
(Another chuckle) There was no 'yes' or 'no. The way he explained it made me realise something I had already spotted but didn't want to admit. He was, perhaps 'broken' is not the best choice of words, but he wasn't one hundred percent who he should be. A part of him was missing, and even if I couldn't help in the way he needed, I could still be there to help ease the pain. Its not a subject people constantly gossip about because both he and myself feel that if people haven't figured it out for themselves then they must really be quite stupid. The term best used for Lake is 'Gayer than a tree full of parrots'. (She laughs) His boyfriend is such a hunk that you have to look twice before it settles in that he's interested in the same sex.

So this must be the infamous Mr. Utkin then?
Dimitri is amazing. He's a perfect father figure for my daughter. Lake is not quite suited for a fraternal position, but the role he plays in Tatyana's life is one I would never change. We joke that he's the maternal figure when I'm away. He knows more about women's clothing than I do anyway! (Chuckle) He came into my life before my daughter was born and I knew he'd forever be a part of her life that I let him be the one to name my daughter.

Hence the Russian name Tatyana then. What does she think of these two men?
She loves them to pieces. My job takes me all over the world, and sometimes even Lake too, is forced to travel. But Dimitri is the rock that keeps this family together. He stays home to make sure she stays in school, and while not everyone is ready to accept the fact the main portion of her family is made up of two homosexual men I think she is blossoming wonderfully.

But don't you think that the influence of two men in her life is making her more masculine? Your daughter is not what many would say 'a model student'.
Tatyana is fine the way she is. If people have a problem with it then they should talk to me. I'm her mother; it is up to me who I place my daughter in the care of. She's an individual - and while I admit she's not as a hard studier as both Lake and myself would like she is smart in her own way. Tatyana, if you're reading this - go do your homework (Another laugh).'

Donovan looked up at the others, then glanced over at the girl who sat with the punk kids, perched on the cafeteria table, waving her hands animatedly as she spoke.

The third time he saw her, he said "Hello, my name is Donovan"

They talk with their hands

The two of them had their own personal langauge that few could enter into. They spoke not a word to one another, but they could perfectly understand each other. Their eyes watched one another, and they would react to whatever the other said in the appropritate way.

But not a word passed between them.

They sat in the school's cafeteria, isolated within their own personal and soundless world. The chatter reverberating through the room did little to silence their in depth conversation.

"So I thought that I was going to die of laughter when Jason stared at me with the expression of a dead donkey," Madison said, earning a chuckle from Angel that sat in the seat opposite from her munching away on an apple.

Setting the fruit down, Angel began his own reply. "I don't think he'll ever understand it though, Madison. Its been explained to him more times than I can count, but he still has that fish look."

"Are you going out tomorrow night, Angel?"

Angel shrugged, not sure whether or not he felt up to a Friday night of partying and loud music. There was no doubt that it would be fun, but he was tired from last week. "I promised my brother I'd do some homework."

"Homework? It can wait one night can't it?" She pouted, hoping that it would get the red haired male sitting opposite her to change his mind.

Angel chuckled, shaking his head. "I made a promise."

"I'll find you a really sexy guy to wrap yourself around." Madison flashed a toothy grin.

"Find one that can understand me first."

The world the two lived in was secluded. Only a few people could enter into it. The majority of people live in a place that the two consider as 'Those with sound', and their world is 'Those without sound'. Few people in Those with Sound could understand the ones living in the world of Those without Sound.

They talked with their hands, because one voice didn't work, and they both couldn't hear the voices of the crowded cafeteria around them.

Parenthood - Part 3

Focusing on work had to be one of the hardest things to do when one had a three year old attempting to climb up their leg. Looking down under the table into the bright blue eyes that looked up, the frown the child was given was returned with a toothy grin.

"Ewwy?"

"Daddy?"

"I'm not a climbing frame."

Ewan blinked several times, giggled, then proceeded to continue his attempts to reach the summit of Mount. Daddy.

"No, seriously, I'm not." But giving in, Jamie reached down and hauled the toddler up onto his lap. Sitting him down, one arm curled around his waist while the other returned to the paperwork on the table. Kate had put the kid in a pair of denim dungarees and a black hoodie. His brown hair was in the typical faux-hawk of late.

The little lad tilted his head to look up at his father. "Whah yah doin'?"

"Work."

"Whah kinda wowk?" the toddler asked.

"The kind that is very important and shouldn't be interrupted by being made into a set of monkey bars."

Ewan pouted his lips, peering over the edge of the table to get a view of whatever it was that his father was doing. His little legs stretched out on his father's lap, and he tapped the toes of his red Converses together. Every time he reached out to curl his fingers around the edge to lift himself up further to get a better view, the hand not holding him would tap the pen lightly on his knuckles before returning to whizzing across the paperwork.

After a few more minutes, Ewan set about fidgeting.

Jamie looked down at the boy. "Can you not go and annoy Mommy?"

Ewan beamed toothily up at his Dad. "She vewy busy! Unclie Jojo is visitwin."

Jamie rolled his eyes. "What does that dork want?"

There was a shrug for a reply. "I no know," he said honestly, tapping his toes together again.

At that, Jamie couldn't help but laugh at his son, giving him a one armed squeeze. Once more about to set to his task, he glanced up to see a tall, mohawked male followed by Kate. Jamie rarely ever saw Jojo much these days, but his dress sense hadn't changed in the many years since the day he'd first met him. He also still had that stupid grin on his face. With a wriggle, Ewan requested "Down," and was deposited upon the floor so that he could trot on over to the new male.

Jojo knelt down to his level, arms outstretched to welcome the boy in with a big hug. "How's my favorite Godson?"

"He's not your Godson," Jamie and Kate said in sync.

At that Jojo pouted. "No fair. Why does the ginger one get him?"

"If we both happen to die, and so does Nat, Evander and Jennifer then you 'get him', Jojo." Jamie responded.

"That's after Matthew and Anna also happen to kick the bucket," Kate added, watching as Jojo lifted the boy up in his arms and bounced him on his hip.

"I so too can look after kids. I'm great with babies." He looked to Ewan who had settled himself happily against his body and was giggling at his mother who was leaning forwards and playing peek-a-boo with him. She stuck out her tongue and ruffled his hair.

"You're still not being first in line for when we snuff it."

"If we ever die," Kate added with a grin. "Or at least out live you."

Its not you

"Do you mind picking up something for me from my mother's house? I'd do it, but I need to attend some pointless parent meeting with Harmony's lawyer."

It was a simple enough task - go over to the house of Alastar's parents, perhaps engaged in a friendly chat with either Stephen or Arista - or maybe even both if he was lucky. Once there, he'd collect a box of things Alastar had arranged earlier in the week for them to provide. Agreeing without so much as a thought put into it, David waved Star off and went in the opposite direction to make the journey to what were essentially his in-laws.

What he hadn't expected was that something could possibly go wrong in that scenario. He had met Alastar's parents many times before this one - he felt perfectly comfortable meeting with them on his own now.

He got through the door well enough. Arista was bright and smiling at him, welcoming the man into her home. She offered to make him tea or coffee and that if he waited in the lounge she'd go and fetch the items he'd been sent to collect. While waiting in the lounge, happily looking at pictures of old featuring both of the Hughes children and Arista's grandchildren the sounds of something crashing in the kitchen reached David's ears. Pulling his eyes from the memories, David started to the kitchen, curious over what the noise was, and worried if Arista had hurt herself.

He certainly had not expected to be confronted with a woman screaming obscenities at him.

"Who the fuck are you?" she demanded of him, her eyes narrowed at him like he was the foulest thing she had ever set her eyes on.

Al was private about his youth and his parents. Lyra was much the same. David knew there had been problems that resulted in both children moving to live with their grandparents, but neither seemed able to fully share what they had gone through growing up. Due to such, David hadn't been fully warned of what to expect when Arista had 'one of her bad turns' as they all described it. Shocked at her sudden change, David held his hands up defencively and hoped just explaining things calmly to her would help her recall what was going on.

"I'm David, remember? Your son's boyfriend. I'm here to pick up a box of things."

"Bastard. My son would never...He's a liar and I hate him!" Her small, old hands curled into fists, making David worry she would lash out at him. "He doesn't love me, he never has. He sends strangers into my home to kill me! Him and that conniving bitch of a sister."

She was their mother. The times he'd been around during a visit Arista was sweet and caring. She doted love and affection on both her children and simply adored her grandchildren. To see and hear such a woman say such things about those she cared for left a strange sensation churnining in David's stomach. Still with his hands held up, he took a step back and away from her.

She still had her hateful glare transfixed upon him. "They sent you, didn't they? Did you kill that moron of a husband of her's too?" she spat. "Well, you're not going to kill me."

They were in the kitchen. There was a lot of sharp and dangerous objects in a kitchen. Sure, he was much taller and stronger than the short, elderly woman, but David didn't want to hurt her. Returning to Al with the tale of 'How I killed you mother by accident when she thought I was going to kill her intentionally' was not a very good idea. Ever.

Fear continued to well up inside of himself, and he swallowed at the lump that was now a permanent feature in his throat. Never had he thought of Arista as a frightening woman, but right now David was close to terrified.

"Arista, please, it's me; David," he pleaded with her. "I baked you those cookies last weekend. Your children love you very much, and I could never kill anyone - especially not someone as wonderful as yourself Arista. Please calm down, there's nothing to worry about."

Somewhere in her coal grey eyes (obviously her children didn't inherit her eyes) something registered. Blinking several times, she looked up at his face. The whole world seemed to change and the atmosphere instantly switched back. "David?" she asked sweetly. "What's with the silly look? You look like you've seen a ghost."

Breathing a sigh of relief and releasing the sheer amount of air he had stored within his lungs in one heavy sigh, David slumped. "Arista...you worried me."

A brow arched and she looked like him like he was talking total trash. "Don't be absurd, David." She smiled at him and reached up to pat his shoulder. As her arm came up, he noticed for the first time the fresh bandage on her wrist. There was just so much both Alastar and Lyra weren't telling him. "Lets go and get Star his box."

Not chancing a second round with the completely different Arista, once he collected the box, he graciously excused himself and left. Once in his car, the first thing he did was call those that would know how to help. Al was unavailble, but Lyra understood what happened. After getting her to calm down after the foul mood brought about by her mother's sudden mood swing, she said she'd stop by to check on her and make sure she took her medication.

Back home, and David was unsure how to tell his lover. Lyra seemed intent on being the one to break the news, since after visiting her mother, she came straight over to their home and made herself comfortable in the kitchen. When Al walked in, he saw his older sister sitting at the table looking in a very foul mood.

"What're you sulking for?" he asked after giving David a kiss on the cheek in greeting.

"Mother."

A heavy sigh broke out of him, and a hand rose to his forehead. "What happened?"

"She threatened David. Said we'd sent him to kill her."

Al just grumbled and made his way to the fridge. "She thought my highschool history teacher wanted to kill her, and my college professor. Your ballroom dance instructor is also on that list - oh, and Dad, you and even myself. Several times."

There was a growl from Lyra. David felt in the middle, his blue eyes flickering between one sibling and the other. Both of them were very reserved with their feelings, but now and again Lyra would release and Al would snap back. Neither of them accepted defeat with grace and ease. "I never knew that was what you grew up with; both of you."

"Al got most of it, she just didn't accept me very well and as you know I grow up mostly with our grandmother," Lyra said, looking down at the table top. "But according to David she's got a bandage on her wrist. If she's self harming again..."

"Tell Dad," Al said before she could finish. He turned from the refrigerator and moved to the table, resting a hand on David's shoulder. His brown eyes looked to his older sibling. "There's nothing we can do beyond what we already do. I hate admitting it - that we can't help her - but there is nothing else." He leaned forwards and placed a tender kiss to David's templ. "I'm sorry about you finding out the hard way - but how do you tell someone as gentle as you that you're mother sometimes thinks you're out to kill her? Or that sometimes she thinks it would be better for her if her children were dead?"

"Or that it would be better for everyone if she was dead," Lyra added, folding her arms at her chest and leaing back in the chair.

"I hope this hasn't ruined how you see her. Don't loose your love for her - I was scared that you witnessing her like that would do such a thing." Alastar moved to sit in the chair next to David, placing his hands over David's.

It was subtle, barely even visible and he could just about feel it but Alastar's hands were shaking. Looking into those beautiful eyes - those eyes that managed to hide emotions so well, and was swept under by the feelings flooding the deep brown depths. Alastar loved his mother despite her faults. He knew how much David liked her, and was worried that now he knew the truth it would result in problems between them.

"Don't leave me because of this..." he breathed. "She doesn't mean it. Her brain is just different."

David gave his reply as a silent nod, then moved in to kiss his love's lips. He understood know, he knew things about those he cared for. Yes, it had scared him, but now he knew more about the family he had set his heart on becoming a part of. He knew what made these two siblings who they were.

He would never leave them.

He would never leave Arista, despite her flaws - just like her own children and her husband.

More importantly he would never leave Alastar.
























(Especially not after seeing the sheer amount of emotion those usually guarded eyes could hold)

Over and Out

A/N: I'm never been one of those girls that really thought about "the one dress" and all that jazz, but this dress, known as "Dracula" is simply stunning, and since Jojo is my character, and the type of person he is this seems like the absolute perfect choice he would make for his best friend.
....Short of getting Tetsu to design it for him x3










Her big brown eyes were simply inescapable. There was no saying no to her when she stared up at him like that. With a roll of his own green eyes, Jojo dropped the smoldering cigarette to the ground and crushed it under his boot. Angling his lips to send the last slithers of silvery-blue smoke upwards into the air, Jojo blew out the remains of the toxic chemicals that he introduced his body on a regular basis. Since leaving high school around three years or so ago, Jojo had tried three times to quit the smoking habit. The first two times he caved simply because he felt he wasn't strong enough. The third time he was ratty, irritable and in such a foul mood he found himself shouting at Aubrey for no reason. Being the one to cause tears to fall from those beautiful eyes broke him.

Jojo was scared of what would happen dare he try it a fourth time. Not a naturally violent person, he was not about to see if quitting smoking would cause some kind of beast to rear its ugly head. It was not only Aubrey who ran the risk of being there when Jojo's self resolve snapped. One of the people he didn't want to show his hidden ugly side to was standing before him with such an adorable, puppy-dog style looking of pleading on her face that he felt his insides would explode into candy floss.

"Fine," he said once the last of the air in his lungs had been diffused of smoke. While he said it as if he didn't really want the task, it was clear in his eyes and the slight curl of his lips that Jojo was actually happy that she had come to him with such a honorable task. "But why didn't yer ask Jenny?"

With a scoff, Josie threw her arms around his tall and lanky frame. "Because I want you to be the one."

Chuckling, Jojo lifted a hand to ruffle Josie's hair affectionately. "An' Aidan don't mind? I mean, he did go an' leave you, thinking that you and I would get together. He went to Italy, as if that would make any difference." That day when the older man had just left had torn poor Josie apart, and Jojo was left to take care of the pieces and keep the girl intact. It was true that the two of them were close, and while Jojo cared for Josie immensely there was a bond between them that just didn't seem to fall into a category that would inevitably lead them both to be romantically involved. Josie loved Aidan with more of her heart than she could physically hold in her chest - Jojo had destroyed so much in order to be with Aubrey. Never had he felt able to settle with one person, and it took him breaking the bond for him to realize that he couldn't be without the younger male.

Josie shook her head. "I wouldn't have it any other way. It's only going to be a small wedding anyway, I don't want Aubrey to feel uncomfortable."

With a short laugh, Jojo shook his head. Josie was always thinking about others, even on her big day. "Its your wedding, and you're worried about my boyfriend." Leaning forwards, he placed a kiss to the soft brown curled hair. "Auberry wouldn't like it if he knew you were chopping up your guest list just for him."

"There's not many people I want to invite anyway."

Grin increased on his face, and he slung his arm around Josie's shoulders. "Well, that makes it all grand then, doesn't it? So, you've convinced me, but if Aidan dares to scowl at me for not taking you off his hands, I'm swearing on all the wedding photos." He tilted his head up in thought, pursing his lips. "Or I'll bring Calliope and stick her down his top."

-

Jojo had never been in a store like this. He'd passed them, and on a few occasions he had made fun of them, or random jokes to those walking with him, but never had he actually entered one of the glamorous stores with the beautiful white gowns in the windows, and the fancy graphics above the glass doors. This was a shop for women - what on Earth was he doing in here?

There was also the fact he stuck out like a sore thumb.

Gothic-punk style was not something that featured in a bridal store. The woman working when the pair of them walked in stared, simply horrified at Jojo as he strolled inside her beautiful store. He towered over her, yet she seemed to still be able to look down her nose at him.

But, as Josie was a potential customer, she fussed and fawned over her.

"What sort of dress would you like?" the woman asked, casting a wary glance at the male stood beside Josie. "Or are you merely browsing?"

Jojo leaned over to whisper to Josie "Told you we should have brought T-chan. He would have swatted this woman away like an irritating fly and then said everything was disgusting and gone away and designed it himself."

Josie shook her head and smiled up at her "Maid of Honor". "I don't want to burden him, he has his portfolio and his new collection to work on." She looked back to the woman. "I'll look around."

"Of course, miss." And the woman stepped back, and glared while smiling sweetly at the pair.

Jojo had taken Josie on many a shopping trip, but this one was just too difference from what he was used to that he simply felt thrown out of his depth into storm infested waters and the undertow was threatening to pull him under. He was a mohawk in a place of pretty dresses.

Not letting the sheer amount of white surrounding him affect him, Jojo headed for a rack to scan through, while Josie went to another.

After the second store and around ten or so dresses, Jojo was getting much more used to the wedding environment. They had stopped for lunch, and had now reached their limit to the point where this would be their last shop of the day. Again, Jojo was greeted in the manner all the shop assistants seemed to have. It was a mix of revulsion and confusion. What made it all worthwhile was their reactions when it came up that he was not Josie's groom-to-be, but her maid of honor.

This store had a male rather than a woman, but he treated Jojo much the same - if not worse. No longer phased by them though, Jojo headed straight for the rail with the beautiful gowns. Before Josie had chance to look for herself, she was pounced upon by the assistant. Jojo could hear them talking while he looked through the dresses.

They chatted about the big day, and all the various wedding things that was probably part of their customer chat logs. Barely listening to them, it was then he noticed a tag on the hanger of one dress tucked between two very frilly dresses.

'Dracula'.

Grinning, Jojo pulled it free from the others and spun around, holding it up in all its glory. "If you don't wear this, I swear I'll snog priest on the altar."

Her big brown eyes drank in the entire sight. They sparkled in a way that was rare for those eyes that swirled with such sadness - even when she was smiling - that it caused Jojo's heart to skip a beat. She stepped away from the assistant and towards the dress, holding out a hand hesitantly, afraid to touch the dress and shatter its magic.

"It's beautiful, Joseph. Oh Joseph, I've never seen anything so...so..." she choked on her words and tears. "I'll wear it." She looked up at his face, smiling back at his own beaming grin. "How did you find it?"

"Its called Dracula," he stated proudly. "Its my territory."

Ultraviolet

A.N.: nottrunottruenottrue.
MATURE WARNING
This fic is purely AU, in a way that such a thing would enver happen. It's jsut so very amusing having this pairing. If certain things hadn't cropped up, I wonder if things would have panned out more like this?

Josie had fallen asleep on his arm while they were watching some random movie Jenny had picked out to hopefully distract Josie from her unhappy feelings of late. Jojo had suggested it to her while he sat in the shared dorm room of Josephine and Jennifer, begging for help with his calculs homework from the younger female. Josie was feeling down, and he'd picked up on it. Not wanting Jenny to feel left out, he grinned up at her and invited her too.

She didn't stay though, and at first Jojo couldn't figure out why she'd smiled serenly and carefully picked her way out of the room. It wasn't the chuckle from the girl curled up against his chest that triggered his brain into motion either. He had to have it pointed out to him. He'd been kissing and nuzzling into Josie's soft, sweet smelling hair without noticing what he'd been doing. It took Josie pointing it out for him to realize, and by then the words "But don't stop," had slipped out over her lips.

His arm had fallen asleep right along with her. He didn't want to move her in fear of waking her up, but eventually the need to have blood coursing through the veins in his right arm became too much and he carefully extricated his arm. They were both on her bed, propped up on the pillows. It didn't take much coercion to get her to lay down, and stealing Jenny's blanket (since they were lounging on Josie's) he wrapped her up. Laying down atop the duvet, he wrapped one arm over her and tucked the other beneath his head, falling asleep right there beside her after laying in the gloom of the dorm room watching her sleep.

When she awoke the next morning, Jojo was laying on his stomach, one hand dangling over the edge of the bed. A small smile broke out over her lips as she watched him silently snore away. Eyes wandered to the clock that sat on her bedside table, eyeing the time. She was glad it wasn't a school day otherwise she would have missed her morning lessons and half of lunch by now. Shifting in bed, she sat herself up and propped herself against the pillows. Jojo's sleeping weight was heavy on the blankets on one side, but not constricting against her body. A look over herself revealed that she'd slept in her clothes. Just as she thought about getting out to change her clothes Jojo mumbled in his sleep and shifted around, pulling up the dangling arm to lay flat upon the mattress. Watching him she couldn't resist the urge to reach down and brush her fingertips over the tips of his hair that feathered out in the style that was a part of him. One couldn't think of Jojo without thinking of that mohawk on his head.

Drawing down the strands, she brushed the shaved portion of the scalp. Fingers danced circles over his scalp, then moved to brush over the pierced ear, drifting over the rings and studs decorating his ears. Curling over the lobe, her tips found the corner of his jaw and traced it to his chin. He was facing away from her and she had to lean forwards and reach over him to draw the patterns of his face with her hand. As she went to brush over those pierced lips she saw them move and then curl up into a smile.

"I thought you were sleeping," she said.

"I was."

She looked a little embarressed over waking him. "I'm sorry for waking you,"

He rolled over to face her, curling an arm around her waist. "Don't be."

"But I know how much you like to sleep in," she replied with a pout.

He didn't see, his eyes were still closed, but his smile increased, curling upwards more at the corners. "I'm surprised I could sleep at all. You're so noisy," he mumbled sleepily, the hint of teasing visible in his voice. Groggy as he was his accent thickened. Jojo had always had a thick Irish accent, but Josie had never experienced the way it sounded when he had only recently woken up. His voice was different compared to the way it sounded when he was tired. She liked it.

His comment, however, deserved a smack to the head with a pillow.

After hitting him around the head with it she pulled it back from his head to see one green eye open and looking straight up at her. "Fighting dirty this early?" he purred, tickling her waist with the hand curled around her.

Josie squealed and wriggled in his grasp. Despite only recently awoken, Jojo moved swiftly to pin her beneath him, legs straddling her body. He tickled her without mercy, his hands dancing over her body faster than she could move her own hands in to intercept him. Finally he grabbed at her wrists with his hands, pinning her arms above her head. They'd been 'wrestling' for about five or ten minutes. Josie had kicked the borrowed blanket almost completely off the bed since her legs were the only free limbs she had left at her disposal. By the time she gave up fighting him they were both panting heavily. With a devilish grin on his lips, Jojo leaned over her. He was close, each feeling one another's rapid breathing washing over their faces.

"What are you gonna do now?" Jojo purred, having lost the just-woken-up morning voice. "I've captured you and there's no escape."

Her brown eyes washed over his face, exploring while she tried to recapture her breathing. After a nervous bite to the corner of her bottom lip she pushed her head up and closed the distance between them. That would distract him and perhaps earn her freedom.

It distracted him, causing the older male to freeze in place, eyes wide as he stared down at her. Despite her being able to now wriggle free from his lax hold, Josie felt unable to move from Jojo's gaze, his green eyes looking down at her with a blank expression that masked everything he was thinking and feeling. Embarrassment rose within her, causing her face to flush bright red.

Silence loomed on between them. It was simply too much for Josie to handle and she broke it first. "Joseph...? I'm so sorry..."

Hands released complete hold on her wrists, one finger coming to place the tip upon her lips. "Shush," he whispered, and when removing his finger he replaced it with his own lips. It was her turn to freeze up, but under the ministrations of the older male the ice creeping her veins melted away. This was what she was missing in her life - a human touch, a closeness beyond that of a mere friendship. It was bad enough being unable to have what she wanted from Aidan, but for him to become even moreso distant from her was unbearable. Jojo was different. Jojo was there. Everything she wanted, and could ever want was right here in the Irish teen's arms. He didn't care what other people thought, he cared about with felt right to him.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and kept him close. Jojo was all to happy to obliege to her, moulding his long and lanky frame to her own on her bed, snuggling in the blankets. Hands stroked up her sides, and through her hair, and he could feel Josie's hands exploring his body too. There was a tug to the base of his shirt, and sitting up, Jojo pulled the t-shirt off, exposing his bare chest to the younger female. With an appreciative eye, Josie ran her hands over the pale flesh. Taking hold of one of her hands, Jojo lifted it to press soft kisses to her fingers, palm, wrist - every part of the limb he could reach basically.

"Joseph...What are we doing?"

He tilted his head to the left, a cocky grin sliding onto his features. "Masturbating."

She frowned back. "Be honest."

He leaned in again, brushing his bare chest over her, fingers pushing up her own top to allow his fingertips to dance over her flesh. "Joey, we're only going to do what you want. I like you - really like you. If I had met you under different circumstances I'd be doing my all to go out with you; what I've settled for is being a best friend, but I know deep inside my heart I will always, always want that bit more of you. I'm jealous of Aidan, and he doesn't even seem to be as interested in you anymore."

He had hit the nail right on the head there. She frowned, blushed, and then smiled softly up at him. Wriggling about to help him lift up and remove her top, one hand came down to fall against his cheek, cupping his face. "I really, really like you too, Joseph."

-unfinished, but I'm lazy and feel like posting something x3 -