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Aristocrat pt 1

The aristocrat was bored. GOD he was bored. He detested parties. Being the introvert he was, parties made him sick... Literally. Today was no different. He could just kill his brother for forcing him to go to this or that's countess' birthday party. Dammit, he didn't even know her name. She's turning some age over 20, why are they throwing a damned party for her?!

With a sigh, the aristocrat threw a I'm-so-gonna-kill-you-when-I-get-you-home-alone glare to his womanizer little brother before stepping out politely from the party. The dark, peaceful, lonely outside was where he could relax, and he happened to like this countess' garden. It was a winding labrynth of flowery bushes, fountains and statues, and right in the middle of the maze was a white veranda that was intrequetly designed with vines and roses.

How he detested roses.

Overly used to desplay love and passion, roses could easily disguise true intentions. The aristocrat scoffed. Of course there would be roses here. The countess, or so he'd heard tonight, was a hopeless romantic with fantasies of vampires or darker angels. So be it, it wasn't his problem.

He liked men, anyways.

He made his way through the maze, trying not to get lost but at the same time trying to. Eventually, he found the veranda, stepping onto its white platform and sitting onto one of the benches inside. From the opening on the gate-like walls, the aristocrat gazed up at the cresent in the sky and wish he could fly up there and take it. But that was a ludicrous notion.

Just as the handsome aristocrat began to doze off in the soft light of the moon, something odd happened. Something... unexplainable. His eyes were too heavy to open fully, so he let them slide closed. Then, out of the blue, he could feel a pair of thin arms wrap around his neck. He could feel an unendowed chest lean up against his. He could smell the sent of another, musty and sweet. He could feel someone nuzzling him. Yet his eyes still wouldn't open.

The phantom touch continued, and he began to feel light kisses being dragged up his neck and to his jaw. How badly he wanted to open his eyes, to move at all, but he couldn't. It wasn't until those soft lips reached his that his eyes were able to open.

With a wide-eyed gape, the aristocrat spied his "phantom lover." Pale, creamy skin the colour of ivory and the feel of silk, hair the colour of the moonlight. The being's sheer eyelashes rested against their round cheek as their lips moved together in a dance of the forbidden.

And he liked it.

Wrappinbg his strong arms around the boy's lithe waist, he pulled the thing closer, holding him higher to taste his lips more and make the boy kneel in his lap. The being giggled into their kiss, tugging at the aristocrat's clothes. He pulled back.

He boy's eyes were green. Oh, so green, so deep, so consuming. The type of green that was unnaturally light, but at the same time so... natural. The boy's full lips were curved into a wry, almost innocently mischevious smile. The boy's nakedness was just as inviting. His upper torso was etched from marble, with almost white-pink nipples and an adorable belly button. With the child's legs pulled up as they were, his more private areas were covered, but he also exposed the milky span of his beautiful legs.

The boy looked no more than 13 years old.

The aristocrat pushed him away. "I am not a *****, love," he murmured. It was all he could do to stop himself from pulling the boy back to him and having him. "And it's very rude to sneak up on someone when they're sleeping."

The boy laughed a laugh of silver bells ringing. "I appologize for my mannerisms, my lord, I did not know we were to be so formal." His face was one of pure seduction. His eyes slightly lidded, he was the epitemy of underaged pleasure. The aristocrat wanted him, but at the same time wanted to kick himself for it.

"Wh-where are you're parents, child?" Trying to look away from the overly beautiful boy standing in front of him, he avoided eye contact and tried to change the conversation away from such thoughts.

The child laughed again, this time the laugh of the Mad Hatter. "Parents," the boy spat out, "what parent would want to see the things I can do? More than likely, my parents would've screwed me, too!" The boy kept laughing, this time the Mad Hatter laugh giving way to sobs of utter loneliness. The child fell to his knees in realization that, if he had any parents, they, too, would have bedded him.

The aristocrat suddenly was hit with the most feeling of regret and love he'd ever felt. He didn't want to bed this child. He wanted to reach out to him, to pull him into his arms and make him stop crying. And thus the Dark Angel did. He kneeled down, holding the sobbing child onto his chest as he rocked him, rubbing circles onto his back.

"Hush, mon ami, hush," he whispered, "there is no need for tears. Come with me, and I promise you happiness and love for all your days." The child's face said he didn't believe him.

"No," the boy choked out, shaking his head violently. "You'll screw me, too, just like everyone else!"

Holding onto the boy tighter, the aristocrat sighed to let the boy feel his breath. "Never. I am not an animal. I can control myself."

Thus the child held onto Dante's back as he hushed the boy into sleep.

A.N.: Yosh! Sorry, current aristocratic craze! I totally made this up on the spot. Poor little angellic child! I have no clue what happened to his parents, but he doesn't seem to be too happy! Dante will fix that! blaugh heart Yes, I loves them. And, yes, Dante is a Dark Angel. A Dark Angel is an Angel of the darker parts of Heaven. There's the Angel of Destruction, the Angel of Lust, hell, even the Angel of Torture. Dante's the Angel of Shadows.