Pet Shop Of Horrors Fan Fiction ❯ Denial ❯ Denial Pt 5 ( Chapter 5 )

Disclaimer: I don't own Petshop of Horrors and I make no money from this or any fanfic I write

Pairing: Leon + D

Category: General

Rating: PG-13 just to be safe

Warnings: Shonen Ai, Language

Title: Denial

Notes: For the Hundredwords Challenge Day 18, 19, 20, and 21

 

 

DENIAL

Part 5

 

 

Muttering to himself, Leon set the outfit D had forced upon him down on the seat of the nearest chair. He then cast a suspicious glance over at Count D, who was standing only an arms width away, his face adverted and his eyes closed. For a moment he considered demanding that D either turn away from him or leave the room altogether, but he quickly decided against making such an unrealistic demand. This was, after all, D's home. What right did he have to demand that he leave? It wasn't as if the man were some sort of voyeur who would ogle him as he got undressed.

 

Slowly, his hands trembling from what could only be in reaction to the hypothermia, Leon removed first his wet and muddy coat. He stared at it for a few moments, then glanced about the room wondering where he should put it. Not wanting to get the furniture dirty, he simply let it drop to the ground where it landed with a soft 'whump'. His soaked and muddy shoes and socks soon followed.

 

Goose bumps marched along his arms and upper torsos as Leon tugged his tee shirt out from the waistband of his jeans and pulled it over his head. He was so cold his teeth were chattering and his nipples were hard little nubs.

 

'Why hadn't I noticed before how cold I was?' Leon wondered, rubbing his arms briskly up and down his arms in an effort to create some warmth. He glanced at the fireplace wistfully. The raging fire was a nice touch if one was looking for that 'homey' look, but in all honesty, it didn't provide as much warmth as good old fashioned central heating. Perhaps he'd try to convince D to look into the matter, though he doubted much would come from such a conversation. After all, this was D he was talking about and the man was nothing if not a little old fashioned.

 

Reluctantly, he removed his shirt and dropped it into the ever growing pile of clothes at his feet. The goose bumps multiplied like rabbits and shivers worked their way freely along his lean torso. He fumbled with his belt for a moment, his fingers cold and lacking their usual dexterity, then slid it from the belt loops slowly before letting it also fall to the floor. The metal tongue hit the floor with a small crack that made him wince.

 

As Leon first unsnapped his fly button then slid down the zipper of his jeans, he glanced towards D, so silent that it was almost as if he weren't in the room with him. The Chinese man's face was still adverted, his eyes still closed, but even though all Leon saw was the profile of the man's face, he could've sworn that there was a hint of a smile there on D's lips.

 

"No peeking, remember?" Leon snapped, fighting the urge to snatch up his clothes and flee the room.

 

"I assure you, dear Detective," D replied, sounding indignant, "peeking at you is the last thing on my mind."

 

"Yeah, well, it better be." Leon muttered as he eased his pants down over his narrow hips. The wet fabric was being stubborn and yielded slowly to his irritated tugs so that before long he was grunting lightly from the effort.

 

Leon finally managed to pull the wet denim down his legs and they pooled around his ankles like heavy water. He pulled his feet free then, gripping the arm of the chair, he reached down and gathered the articles of clothing one by one. As he picked up his jacket, he sighed heavily as he noticed a tear in the fabric just above the elbow. 'It must have torn one of those times that I fell on my ass.' Leon thought, disgusted.

 

He absently pushed his finger through the hole in the elbow, measuring its length and width, judging for himself the extent of the damage. The tear was rather large, almost three inches long, and it wasn't along a seam, which would make repairing it more difficult. His sense of style, such as it was, wouldn't allow him to even consider merely patching the battered garment and his sewing skills were simply up to the task as he couldn't even sew on a button. No, he would simply have to go without or cave in and by a new jacket.

 

Unconsciously, one hand went to the elbow that matched the jacket sleeve that had been torn. When his fingers came in contact with the spot, he hissed sharply between his teeth and pulled away from the pain his touch had awoken. Mutely he stared at the tips of his fingers, which were smeared with drying blood.

 

"Oh dear," D exclaimed softly as he materialized as if by magic at Leon's side. "That looks like a rather nasty cut. We had better tend to it right away or it may get infected."

 

"I thought I told you 'no peeking', Count!" Leon snapped, suddenly conscious of that fact that he was practically naked.

 

"I wasn't peeking," D insisted huffily, as he carefully bent Leon's arm so he could get a better look at the wound. "Why didn't you tell me you had gotten hurt?"

 

"I didn't know, that's why."

 

Shaking his head, D released Leon's arm and took the wet bundle of clothes away from him. "I'll go get the first aid kit and take care of these clothes." He said, gazing sternly at Leon. He then pointed one long finger at the clean folded garments still sitting on the seat of the chair.

 

"You get those on before you freeze to death." He ordered, "I'll be back in a little bit."

 

 

TO BE CONTINUED...