Title: Angel of the Snowdrift
Authoresses: NoChristmasJokesPlz and ANT-chan
Rating/Genre: Romance/Drama/NC-17 (for SLASH/YAOI/BL/GAY, sex sex and more sex, language, a bit of angst, and threesome.)
Summary: 'Life hates me. It always has. ...I'm really going to die here.' Neither Sin nor Draca ever thought finding a boy in the snow and doing a good deed would lead to so much. A Shadows & Seraphim story. M/M/M
Angel of the Snowdrift
Chapter 5: Return Trip
"U-Um... D-Draca...?" Milo knocked lightly on the door, wondering if he should really disturb the Vampyre. He had been working at Flamesoul as a lowly dish boy for a few days already, and he hadn't seen much of him. Mostly because Milo found himself so tired when he got home. It was hard to go from weeks of laziness to working - even doing something as monotonous and simple as washing dishes - all day. And with Sin still gone, it left him feeling lonely when he returned to the flat.
But today, however, was a free day. Kyris had told him to take the day off. The problem? His uniform was to be completed and ready to picked up by today, and with Kyris busy at the pub and Kira off doing some task for her adoptive mother... that only left Draca to guide him through the maze of the Haven market place.
The thought filled him with just as much dread as it did excitement.
He knocked again. "Draca...? Are you... asleep?"
A low, grumbling moan echoed from within the Vampyre's bedroom, and Milo was tempted to bolt. There was another groan, and a slightly slurred, "M'up, M'up..." from within, and the neko only just managed to not run away.
The door opened, seemingly of its own accord, and Milo peered into the inky darkness of the room. The panel of light thrown over the bed from the door illuminated Draca's long, pale form, twisted amongst the dark blankets. Milo's mouth suddenly became very dry when he saw one long, bare leg poking from the covers, as well as a thin chest and the barest hint of a hip.
"I... I... You..." Milo shook his head to clear away the cobwebs. "Um... Never mind! You can go back to sleep!" The feline Fayth whirled to run, but Draca's sleepy, raspy voice cut him off.
"Wait! Whaddya need?"
Much against his better judgment, Milo swallowed thickly and turned to face his host once more. He tried to force his eyes to focus on the Vampyre's face, instead of letting them wander down his bare chest and stomach. The man slept naked - naked! The very thought made Milo's face heat. However, gazing at Draca's face wasn't much better. The man was and always would be attractive, no matter how much Milo pushed such thoughts away. His handsome face was built for devious, wicked smirks and lusty gazes. Even the lazy, half-lidded stare of sleep looked vaguely wanting. Those crimson eyes caught the light just right - making them appear to glow in the darkness.
With a jolt, Milo realized he'd been staring. "I-I... uh..." he fidgeted with his sleeve, reaching desperately for something to say. "M-My uniform is s-supposed to be done today. And... And everyone's busy or gone. A-And... I don't know my way around still?"
He sounded pathetic. The boy started to say something in retreat, to dismiss his still unspoken request, but Draca sat up in bed. That long, lean form arched as the thief stretched, making Milo's stomach tie itself into dizzying knots.
"Yeah. Sure. I've got some places I could go t'day if ya don' mind a bit of shopping."
Moistening his suddenly dry lips with his tongue, the nekojin tried to quell the pleasantly queasy feeling in his stomach. "Um... N-no... I don't... Um... Th-thank you..." Ashamed by his lack of coherence, Milo let his eyes drop to the floor. However, when he heard the blankets rustle and the bed creak, amber eyes flashes up again to see Draca rolling quite shamelessly out of bed and heading, stark naked, towards a dresser. For a moment, Milo's brain fritzed, and he stared at the thief's backside. But, as soon as he felt the odd sensation of heat pooling a little south of his stomach, he gave a startled squeak and backpedaled, darting out of the doorway before Draca could turn around.
Milo all but sprinted up the stairs, stumbling over the last few steps and knocking his knees against the hardwood floor. But it didn't stop him. He merely skittered forward until momentum allowed him to stand. The moment he was safe in his room - no, Sin's room. Sin and Draca's room, that they'd graciously let him borrow. Milo climbed onto the bed and curled into the pillows, hiding his face from the world - from reality.
The memory of that long expanse of pale flesh flickered before his eyelids. His cock twitched as more heat pooled in his abdomen. Shame consumed him.
God, how could he think something like that? He'd looked at Draca, shamelessly bare and still half-asleep, and his body had thrummed in want. In lust. He'd wanted to, in some primal part of him, to press himself against the blond thief and beg to be taken.
And that was wrong - so wrong, on so many levels.
'They're together,' a part of him whispered vindictively, 'they're in a relationship and you were three seconds from jumping one of them, you little whore.'
The sudden realization had him whimpering in shame. What was happening to him? Admitting that the both of them were attractive - downright beautiful - was one thing. But coveting either of them? Lusting after one of them?
Was he really that much of an idiot?
"Milo?" His ears twitched and then pressed back against his skull in both pleasure and self-loathing at the voice. It sounded like Draca was standing at the bottom of the stairs. It was a completely innocent call of his name - a question only - but now all Milo could think about when hearing that sly drawl was the sight of the Vampyre naked. "You ready to go?"
Milo debated whether or not he should just call the whole trip off. Surely he couldn't face Draca now. But he needed his uniform. He needed it today or else he wouldn't be able to properly help Kyris in the bar. He wouldn't be able to earn his pay.
And even worse, he might incite the wrath of Madam Brigsbee.
That prompted the Fayth to roll out of bed and silently will down the slight tent that had formed in his trousers as he rushed about to dress fully and brush his hair. He pulled it back in a quick, messy braid and called out "Hold on! Just a second!" in a pseudo-normal tone of voice. Once he was, at the very least, presentable, he swung open the door, and hoped he wasn't as red in the face as he thought. "I... erm... Let's go."
Sure enough, Draca was looking up at him from the bottom of the stairs, his eyes still half lidded and bleary. It was such a lazy expression, and yet he still succeeded in looking sensual. Milo kept his eyes to the stairs as he descended, hoping that the Vampyre wouldn't notice his heated blush. He was sure it was there. He was too pale to be able to hide it.
It seemed that Draca didn't notice, much to his relief, for he was too busy stifling a yawn. "Where we goin' again?"
"Um..." Again Milo avoided looking at the man by rushing over to the foyer closet and busily sliding on his shoes. It was warm enough now, thanks to the Haven's mild seasons, to be out in only a long sleeved shirt. "My... My uniform that Kyris had made is done. I just need to pick it up. It's... at Madam Brigsbee's? The tailor who has the big shop in the marketplace?"
Draca paced over to him, absently putting on his own boots. "Huh. Yeah, I know her. Crazy bitch, she is. Alright, I can get ya there. S'long as we can shop around. I've been wanting t'stop by the imports section down by the docks. And hell, I haven't seen Agana in a while." At the boy's confused stare, the thief blinked and quirked a grin. "You've seen her shop. Crystalline? Right next door to Gwen's?"
Recognition sparked in Milo's eyes, and he nodded. "Y-yeah, I remember. I've never seen Agana though. I usually spend all my time inside with Gwen until it's time to go."
Draca stifled another yawn and stretched his arms over his head, and Milo swallowed as lithe muscles flexed beneath pale as moonlight skin. He hastily looked away as Draca grunted, "Yeah, I know. You're such a shy little kitten." His smile was just as coy and sly as usual, and it made the neko's heart thump nearly out of his chest.
"M-M'not..." But his protest was weak, both from that grin and from the embarrassment he felt. His face slowly turning pink, Milo lowered his head.
'Yes, you are. Shy and timid. Scared little kitty. None of them know you, because you're a coward.' His ears flattened against his head, trying in vain to drown out the malicious thought.
Draca almost sighed upon seeing the timid reaction. 'That's right, can't tease him too much.' His ears were still ringing with the lecture Kyris had given him. But it was just so hard not to tease him. Especially when he had such adorable reactions. It was almost a compulsion for the Vampyre to tease those around him in the first place, but with Milo it was almost like it was with Sin.
Teasing him was an addiction.
The blond clapped a hand on the boy's shoulder, making him jump. "Ah, don't worry about it," he said, putting a reassuring note into his voice. "It makes you cute that way." It had meant to be comforting, but somehow he only succeeded in making Milo blush even more.
Maybe he wasn't cut out for this whole comforting thing.
'C-cute?!' Milo thought. 'He... He thinks I'm cute?!' His face reddened further, and his stomach quivered with happiness. He forcibly stamped down the giddiness, before it could show on his face in a full-fledged grin.
'Not cute as in attractive or sexy, stupid,' he said forcefully to himself. 'Cute, as in, like... A little stray animal that's just so cute you have to take it home and keep it as a pet cute. Just a cute little alley cat that you feel sorry for, because something so cute can't possibly survive on its own. That kind of cute.' But, still, the shivery, happy feeling in his gut lingered, and he looked up at Draca with the tiniest little smile on his face. "So... Should we go?" he asked quietly, his voice slightly breathy.
"E-Er... yeah." Draca cleared his throat and led the way out into the street. "This way." He had to keep a few steps ahead of the petite neko. He didn't want to keep looking at that blushing, heart-shaped face when it was turned towards him with such an expression. The little smile and those shining, buttery gold eyes made something... strangely warm unfurl in his chest. The only thing he could think upon seeing it was a quiet: 'That's... adorable.'
Draca wasn't usually one to think such things, or to all but swoon over something cute. But Milo's expression had been so heartfelt. It was as if, with just an off-hand comment, Draca had made the nekojin's entire day.
He wasn't used to that. It felt... good, actually.
But he shook it away as they walked deeper into the heart of the Smuggler's Haven. Milo was getting frazzled by the pressing crowds, straining to keep close to the Vampyre as he began to point out roads and alleys that would lead him back to the flat or Flamesoul. It didn't help that trying to remember all the various directions the blond was indicating made his head spin. Milo squeaked as he almost ran straight into a passing woman, mumbling a thoroughly embarrassed apology before squeezing through the crowd once more.
Being quite a bit taller than the petite Fayth, Draca was cutting through the crowd with ease. He paused, realizing that Milo was no longer near him, and turned, his crimson eyes searching out the young man. When Milo finally pushed through the people, his lips parted as he panted for breath, Draca sighed. "Stay close, little kitten," he said, sliding an arm around Milo's shoulders and tucking him into his side.
Milo's face warmed almost to the point of spontaneous combustion, but he burrowed even further into Draca's side as a strange man sent him a smile as he passed. It could have simply been a friendly 'hello' smile, but, to Milo, it looked like the predatory leer that made his heart rate quicken and his stomach clench.
"Somethin' wrong, kitten?" Draca asked as he swept them through the crowd.
"No..." Milo replied, flicking his ears back nervously. "I'm fine. Are we almost there?" The crowd seemed to be getting thicker, pressing closer, and it made Milo's throat feel tight with nerves.
The boy's unease wasn't lost on Draca. The poor feline Fayth didn't seem to like crowds. It was no wonder he rarely left the house to venture into the city. "Yeah," he said, trying to keep his tone smooth and comforting - a feat, since his voice seemed naturally inclined to sounding sly and teasing. "This way."
Milo sighed in relief as Draca led him into a smaller, significantly less crowded street. It was little more than an alleyway, though it still was open and sunny, and had a few tables set up along it. The Vampyre still didn't let go of him, even though they were out of the worst of the Haven's crowds. Milo glanced curiously at the colorful woman sitting at one of the tables, and flinched when her eerie pale eyes shot up to his. "W-Where are we...?"
"Seer's Street. That's the nickname, anyway. A bunch of psychics like to set up shop here. Keep close, yeah? They're real vultures." Indeed, as they passed through the little side street, more and more eyes focused on them. A few of the psychics called to them, but Draca simply pulled him further along. Even if being this close to the handsome thief was making that shameful part of him swoon, Milo was glad for it. He could lean into the taller man's side and hide from the roving eyes.
They turned out of the alley into another main street, but this time kept to one side. Another few turns, and Milo almost cried out in relief as the Madam's shop could be seen in the distance.
It took every last shred of Milo's self-control not to rush headlong into the relative safety of Madame Brigsbee's. Instead, he quickened his pace, and Draca followed suit, smiling faintly at the neko's eagerness. He really was too cute.
They slipped through the door together, and Milo almost staggered and fell in his relief. "M-Madam Brigsbee?" he called timidly.
There was a flurry of movement from the back room and a muffled curse before the colorful figure of the Madam stepped into the room. Her pale eyes sparkled with devious promise as they zeroed in on the nekojin, but they widened in delight when they glimpsed the man with him. "Draca!" she proclaimed excitedly, rushing forward to meet the Vampyre.
Draca's smile was charming - in a way that Milo had never seen up until this point. He had to bite his lip as his stomach squirmed and flipped at the sight. "Madam! How've ya been?" The roguish thief extended his hand for the seamstress to take, squeezing her hand in his intimately. Milo blushed as he brought the woman's hand to his lips, pressing a fanged smile to her knuckles briefly before releasing it.
Madam Brigsbee all but glowed. "Very well, you terrible fiend! I must admit, I didn't expect to see you come in with the boy."
"Oh, Milo? He's staying with Sin and me. Kira didn't tell you that?"
Brigsbee rolled her eyes. "That girl prattles on about everything and nothing. I've long since stopped listening to her." Then she turned to Milo abruptly. "Go ahead and change into your clothes. I left them in the changing room for you. Be sure to come out after each one. I need to make sure I don't need to alter them."
Milo nodded and obediently shuffled towards the changing room, slipping behind the curtain and peeling off his clothes. He averted his eyes from the mirror as his shirt came off, to avoid the sight of his awful scars. He pulled on the soft, violet shirt quickly, and purred slightly at the soft, smooth sensation of the rayon against his skin. As the Madam had said, it clung nicely, and flowed out around his wrists and almost covered his hands. Then, he pulled on the vest, fastening the shiny ivory buttons and admiring the way it defined his chest. Again, Madam Brigsbee had been spot-on. It fit well, and made him look a little less effeminate, which he rather liked. And the trousers...
Well... He blushed as he realized that Madam Brigsbee was now three for three, because it did seem like it would bring a good bit of attention to his round, pert backside-- and he did like the way the dark grey looked with the ghostly pale silver of his tail. At last, he saw a pair of small, dark shoes, which he slipped on, and studied his reflection in the mirror. His long, dark braid pulled over his shoulder, bangs falling into his face...
He was stunned to realize that he looked... happy. Truly pleased with his life. He smiled shyly at himself, not quite used to seeing it himself, and waved at his reflection. He reached out to trace the delicate contours of his face when--
"Oy, kitten! Whatcha doin' in there that's takin' so long?"
Milo jumped and whirled on heel, and almost fell over himself as he slipped out of the changing room, righting himself once he stood before the appraising gaze of the Madam. "Um... How does it look?" he asked shyly.
The seamstress' pale eyes were as sharp as knives as she gazed at him. Milo nearly squirmed and fidgeted with his new sleeves, but thought better of it. He remembered all too well how Madam Brigsbee took to him squirming when she was working. "Hmmm... it looks like it fits well." She walked around him, experimentally straightening and testing the fit of the outfit. "It does, doesn't it? How does it feel? Too loose or too tight in some places?"
Milo bit his lip and kept his eyes to the floor. "Um... it-- well..." He couldn't help himself, and shifted in embarrassment. "Th-The pants might be a little tight in... in the back...."
He jumped as Brigsbee let out a laugh. It turned into a high-pitched squeak as nimble fingers tugged experimentally at the fabric covering his ass. "No, pretty boy. They're meant to be like that. It shows off that cute li'l butt of yours." The neko whirled around, his eyes wide and his face bright red.
"Ohhhh yes it is. Kyris will have all kinds of new customers because of you, kitty."
Draca laughed. "That's for sure. You won't be workin' back in the kitchen much longer, kitten," he said. "She'll want you front and center to draw 'em in."
Milo tried to inch away from Madam Brigsbee, but she held him still with a stern glare that froze him in place as she continued to tug and adjust his clothes until it was completely to her liking. And then she snagged the ribbon on the end of his braid and tugged. It fluttered to the ground, and she quickly and deftly unbraided his hair so that it fell in lush, ebony waves around his shoulders and face. He brushed back a few strands impatiently, looking more surprised than annoyed. "Wh-what'd you do that for?" he asked.
The Madam continued to rake her fingers through his thick hair, smoothing it out and settling it over Milo shoulder. "There," she said at last, fixing his bangs. "Now you look the part." She walked into the back room briefly, and came back dragging a floating, full-size mirror behind her. She maneuvered it until it was in front of him, and turned it so he could see himself in the mirror.
Milo almost gasped. His hair was falling over his shoulder in shining, obsidian waves. His silvery bangs were parted so that they nearly obscured his eye, but it gave him a pretty, mysterious look. His cheeks were gently flushed and his gold eyes bright. He looked happy, and healthy, and... even kind of pretty. This time there was nothing to stop him from running a dainty claw down his cheek, brushing back the silver and ebony strands. He frowned as he realized his face wasn't as thin as it used to be. Under Kyris' watch, he was eating more... and gaining weight, it seemed.
His eyes darted down to his slim body, trying to discern if his suspicions were true.
He pinched at his hips, which were still quite narrow, but less narrow than they had been, and then he whirled to look at his backside in the mirror-- really look at it. It seemed a bit plumper than it had been. His ears flattened against his hair and he uttered a soft, lamenting yowl. "I'm getting fat!"
His declaration was met with silence. From his seat by the wall - thankfully out of the reach of the annoying sunlight - Draca stared at the distraught Fayth with wide eyes. '...Fat...?' Draca didn't know what surprised him most about that statement: the fact that Milo actually thought he was overweight or the fact that Milo - a boy - cared so much.
Well, no, being male and insecure had little to do with his shock. It was more that he was male and actually lamenting about it.
'You... are so girly, kitten,' he thought with amusement. 'Cute, but girly.'
"Your ass looks fine from here, kitten!" he called, being wholly unhelpful and knowing it. It did the trick anyway, making the boy blush and temporarily jolt him from his despair. It was the Madam who took over, however. She put her hands on her hips and glared down at the little Fayth.
"Milo," she said firmly, making the boy jump at the sound of his name. The seamstress had never called him by his name until now, and the look in those blue eyes made him shrink back. "You. Have. A twenty-two-inch waist. Do you realize how tiny that is? You would never be able to buy mass produced pants that fit you. You're too tall for the children's section."
Milo looked up at her, wide-eyed, his ears and tail drooping. "But... but... I..." He'd always been thin, tiny and petite. Now... Now that he actually had fat to define them, he had hips! Hips! And not slim, narrow, definitely male hips like Sin or Draca, but slightly wide hips, like a girl's! And his plump, round rear end had definitely been much flatter. But Kyris had been prodding him to eat more since he'd arrived, and it <showed.
"You look healthy, kitten," Draca said calmly, coolly, and Milo turned to see a... different sort of smile on his face. Sure, it was still amused, charming, devil may care, as was Draca's nature, but it seemed... warmer. "You were barely more than a twig when we found you. Now... you don't look so much like you'd break if we touched you."
The soothing words made that little place in him - the place that he kept trying to lock away out of shame - squirm happily, sending pleasant little shivers through his body. But Milo clamped down on that feeling. He'd seen Draca often in Flamesoul, flirting with anyone who spared him a glance. The man was the epitome of flirtation and charm. "Y-You're just saying that," he murmured.
The Vampyre snorted. "No, I'm not. When you first got here, you looked about a day away from emaciated. At least now you don't look like you're going to crumble under the weight of your clothes."
Milo blushed. Did he really look that bad? The nekojin glanced back at his reflection, trying in vain to not wonder about how much weight he'd gained over the last few weeks. Well... he certainly didn't look like that now, but... but...
"Hmph, he's one to talk," the Madam said crisply to the distressed boy. "One strong gust and he'd go toppling over." Milo giggled at the thought, but it fell short as the tall blond made a sound of indignation and stood.
"Everyone just has to pick on my body, don't they? Well take a look 'ere." Milo's mouth went abruptly dry as the man casually lifted the front of his shirt, revealing a tantalizing expanse of firm muscle under pale, smooth skin. "That's all muscle."
Milo had to look away from the sight, for fear that he'd start to drool. But he didn't feel as bad about it when he noticed that Madam Brigsbee had a faint blush on her face as well.
"Alright, you shameless bloodsucker," she snapped, sounding just a bit flustered. "Keep your clothes on before you give me a heart attack. The boy doesn't look too far from one himself," she added slyly, and Milo felt himself blush hotly. He glared at the Madam, who only smirked. He ducked his head in response, resolving to work on his glare, since no one reacted like he wanted to when he attempted to scowl. He supposed that no one was ever really afraid of an angry 'kitten.'
Draca snickered as he noted the blush on the boy's cheeks, a devious light in his crimson eyes. 'So he's like that, is he?' Oh, this could provide much fun for the future. It was amusing to tease a shy boy that wasn't fond of men, but it was even more so to tease one who was.