Pet Shop Of Horrors Fan Fiction ❯ On a Clear Day ❯ On a Clear Day ( Chapter 1 )

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

Pairing: Leon x D

Category: General

Rating: R

Warning: Yaoi, Language (yes, Leon has a potty mouth), and sexual situations not suitable for those under the age of seventeen.

Title: On a Clear Day

Author: yellowhorde

Notes: This was written for the LiveJournal community, 30_cuddles. Theme #19 - `sparks; fireworks'

 

 

ON A CLEAR DAY

 

 

“Why are we coming all the way up here?” D gasped, as Leon led him by the hand up the steep hill. The cooler he carried seemed to get heavier and heavier with each step he took.

 

Leon glanced over his shoulder. “Don't tell me you're tired already.”

 

“No, I'm not tired,” D replied archly, though in truth his heart was racing along at an alarming rate, “Just curious. We've been walking up this hill forever!”

 

“You need to get out of your shop more often, D,” Leon chided. “The exercise will do you good.”

 

“This exercise is going to be the death of me,” D mumbled, pressing one hand delicately against his chest. “I fear my heart shall explode.” Honestly, he didn't know how Leon managed to walk all the way up this hill without tiring himself out. The man was a heavy smoker after all, but he was barely breathing hard. Really it wasn't fair.

 

“Nonsense,” Leon called back over his shoulder.

 

When he reached the top, Leon peered around for a moment, set down the heavy wicker basket he had been lugging, and raised one hand to shade his eyes from the light of the setting sun. He waited until D finally caught up then scanned the hillside carefully. “If memory serves me correctly, the spot should be just about… there!”

 

He gathered up both the basket once more and quickly strode over to a relatively flat spot at the foot of a large oak tree, swinging the arm that held the heavy wicker basket he and D had prepared before leaving the shop in slow, casual arcs. D followed at a much more sedate pace, turning his head this way and that as he scanned their surroundings with frank curiosity that bordered on awe.

 

Dappled shafts of sunlight filtered in through the thick canopy overhead and the gentle swish of the wind as it played invisible fingers through the leaves was beautiful and relaxing to D's senses. His narrow chest expanded as he inhaled deeply, drinking in the scent of freshly mowed grass and wildflowers.

 

“It is indeed a lovely spot, Detective,” D admitted with only a trace of his former reluctance, “but why exactly are we here?”

 

Leon set the wicker picnic basket carefully on the ground before turning to D, still smiling. “Picnic, remember?”

 

D snorted impatiently. “We could have very well have set up our picnic out on the wooden tables at the foot of this mini mountain where all the other families were setting up,” he pointed out, “but you had to drag us all the way up here. Why?”

 

“Because all those kids running about waving their sparklers and screaming would have gotten on your nerves, Count.” Leon said as he removed the folded checkered blanket that had been draped over his shoulder. He quickly unfolded it and shook it out with a series of sharp snaps. Last summer's leaves and grass shoots were tossed unceremoniously to the wind. “Then you'd start complaining about the noise and God knows what else and start getting on my nerves. And since I want to have a nice, relaxing 4th of July for a change, I thought it would be best if we pitched camp up here.”

 

“Besides,” he added with a mischievous wink, “Up here we'll have the best view of the fireworks display later this evening. Now stop yapping and help me set everything up, will you?”

 

Just as Leon was about to spread out the picnic blanket along his choice piece of earth, the wind caught hold of it causing it to billow out like a sail. He tried to get it under control, but neither the wind nor the blanket would cooperate.

 

“Shit!” Leon exclaimed, struggling without much success to lay the fluttering cloth on the ground. “You damned piece of - “

 

“Watch your language, please, Detective,” D interjected mildly. There was no heat to his admonishment and his curiously colored eyes twinkled in merriment.

 

“Give me closed captions and a mirror and I'll see what I can do,” Leon growled, pouncing on one end of the checked blanket only to have the other end take flight.

 

“Get off your skinny ass and give me little help here, Count!” He yelled as he as the wind took control of the blanket once again. His red tee shirt had somehow managed to pull free from the waistband of his light blue jeans and now it flapped behind him like a touch football flag.

 

“I swear, you are hopeless without me,” D murmured huffily, but he moved to obey.

 

With quick and flowing movements, D reached into the hamper and pulled out several napkin wrapped bundles of silverware. He ignored the `What the hell are you doing?' look Leon shot in his direction and walked around the edge of the fluttering blanket carefully weighed down each corner of the blanket in turn until it was once more subdued.

 

“There, that wasn't so difficult, now was it?” D dusted his hands together and smugly surveyed his handy work.

 

“Speak for yourself,” Leon huffed, rubbing his back, “Damn it, I think I pulled something.”

 

“It would serve you right for being so stubborn.”

 

Once the blanket was laid out, the rest of the picnic accessories soon followed. With smooth efficiency D set up his miniature folding table with its gleaming satin tablecloth, then set out a small porcelain tea set with matching cups and saucers, an assortment of small plates, several Dagwood style sandwiches and trimmings for Leon, a simple but artfully arranged pasta salad for himself, and, of course, a wide selection of petit fours from cheesecake to fudge mint.

 

Finally, with a sigh of contentment, D settled down onto his cushion, legs folded neatly under his body, a cotton napkin draped over his lap to protect his brightly patterned chiao-fu from stray crumbs and any potential spills.

 

“It really is lovely here, Detective,” D murmured as he poured himself a cup of tea. Wrapping his hands about the thin porcelain, he held the cup just under his nose and inhaled the lightly fruity scent before turning his miss-matched gaze towards the horizon. “From here, the sky is so deep and blue I feel I could reach out and touch it.”

 

“Yeah,” Leon agreed, his voice, lacking its usual sharp edge, was soft and lazy, “Especially if there's no smog or fog to fuck things up.” He straightened and pointed towards the not so distant horizon. “See? You can see the ocean from here, hell, if you're really quiet and the wind's just right, you can hear the seagulls and the crash of the waves against the shore.”

 

Leon eased himself down onto his own cushion, and reached for the first of several sandwiches. “On a clear day,” he mumbled around a mouthful of food, “you can see damned well near forever. It's fucking amazing.”

 

“Indeed.” D agreed, so entranced by the view that he neglected to chide the other man on his colorful choice of adverbs. “How did you discover this spot, Detective?”

 

“My mom used to take me up here for picnics all the time when I was growing up,” Leon murmured. “It was her favorite place to be in the entire world.” He paused, set his sandwich down on its plate, and then added almost as an afterthought, “I haven't been up here in years.”

 

“Difficult facing the memories now that she's gone?” D asked gently.

 

“No, it's not that exactly,” Leon shrugged his shoulders in what was probably meant to be a nonchalant gesture, but to D it looked sad and uncomfortable. “It's just… I don't know… I've been so busy with work and everything. I just… didn't have the time, you know?

 

`And I couldn't bring myself to come up here alone,' he mentally added.

 

“I understand.” D smiled, placing one of his hands lightly over Leon's. “And I'm honored that you thought to bring me up here.”

 

“You're not just saying that, are you?” Leon asked, his blue eyes searching D's intently.

 

“Of course not, Detective,” D murmured. “You should know me better than that by now. After all, we've known each other for almost a year.”

 

“Yeah,” Leon agreed then paused for a moment, “but most of the time I'm accusing you or murder or drug dealing or some other shit like that.”

 

D nodded slowly, “Yes, but that's part of your job, isn't it - to search out the truth in all matters?”

 

“I guess…”

 

“Then you can take me at my word in this matter, dear Detective.” D gazed directly into Leon's blue eyes and smiled one of the warmest smiles Leon had ever seen. “I am happy that you thought of bring me somewhere that is so important to you. In fact, I'm flattered.”

 

“As well you should be,” Leon agreed with a smirk before awkwardly taking his hand out from under D's. He reached for the jar of mayonnaise, unscrewed it, then rummaged in the basket for a knife, taking far longer than D thought was necessary considering that he had placed them right near the top.

 

“Wouldn't it be easier to just use disposable tableware and paper plates?” Leon asked, slapping a bit more mayonnaise onto the top slice of whole wheat bread with a bread knife.

 

D's brow rose. He recognized an obvious attempt at changing a subject when he heard one and he was more than willing to speak of other matters if the current one was uncomfortable for Leon. “And for whom would it be easier, Detective, you… or the Earth?”

 

“I'm not saying that the stuff couldn't be reused or anything,” Leon muttered defensively, “just that it would sure as Hell be easier to drag this shit around if it weren't so damned heavy.”

 

“Do you hear me complaining?” D's voice was low, almost frosty.

 

“You were sure doing your share of complaining on the way up here, as I recall.” Leon quipped, “Besides, you wouldn't have to do quite so many dishes.”

 

D sniffed haughtily and merely sipped his tea in silence for several long moments. He then glanced over at the edge of his tea cup at the man sitting beside him. “I don't mind doing dishes,” he murmured smoothly, his lips tilting in an almost, but not quite, teasing smile, “after all, I am used to cleaning up other people's messes.”

 

To his astonishment, Leon's cheeks burst into color at this response. He opened his mouth as if to say something, then, apparently thought better of it and took a large bite of his sandwich instead. With a half-hearted glare, he shifted his position slightly so that he was not looking directly at the Count, though not far enough to hide the fact that his cheeks were still a little flushed.

 

The rest of the meal was eaten in relative silence.

 

The sun was sinking below the horizon by the time Leon and D had finished eating and packing everything away. With a sigh, Leon eased back against the rough bark of the oak tree, squirming around a little to find the best and most comfortable position available. Idly he reached into the cooler he had propped next to him and brought out a bottle of beer. The cold water slid down has arm, eliciting a brief flurry of goose bumps.

 

“Hey,” he called out amiably enough, “you want a beer, Count?”

 

D cast him a flat look over his shoulder, “Hardly, Detective. I would, however, like a soda, please.”

 

“One soda coming up,”

 

Leon fished out a bottle of soda, hauled himself to his feet, and walked soundlessly over to where D was kneeling on the far end of the blanket. For a moment he simply watched and admired the smooth efficiency of motion that D displayed as he slid several long incense sticks from a thin bamboo container. When he had enough, he screwed back on the lid and laid it on top of the wicker basket nearby. He then carefully inserted five sticks into a small brass pot full of sand. Leon didn't pretend to know what he was doing - all he knew was that D was absorbed in whatever little task he was doing and unaware that he was standing over him.

 

Never one to pass up such a prime opportunity, Leon leaned down and pressed the cold and dripping bottle against the back of D's pale neck. The effect was instantaneous. D shot up to his knees with a sharp, shrieking gasp and swiveled around to glare at him as he snorted helpless laughter.

 

“Detective Orcot!” D cried, “Could you be any more juvenile?”

 

“Actually, yeah, yeah I can be.” Leon gasped between bursts of laughter as he desperately tried to catch his breath. He grinned down at the flustered Count. “Want me to show you?”

 

“No thank you,” D sniffed primly, “I've already had my quota for the day.”

 

“Aw, come on, D, don't be like that. I was only joking around.” He nudged D in the shoulder with the bottle, suddenly contrite. “Here, I brought you your soda. And as you already know,” he added with another small chuckle, “it's nice and cold.”

 

For a moment Leon thought D would refuse his quasi peace offering, but then with a withering sidelong glance, D accepted it, twisted off the cap with more force than absolutely necessary, and took a long sip, his eyes closing and a look of almost pure rapture stealing over his features.

 

Staring down at the Count like this, Leon felt an almost irresistible urge to brush his fingers along his pale cheek, to feel the smooth perfection of his skin. Realizing that this was an absurd thing for him to be thinking, he swallowed hard and took a shaky step away from the kneeling man.

 

`Just a weird thought brought on by too much fun in the sun,' his mind rationalized, conveniently forgetting that the sun had been completely set for more than a few minutes and that only the fading orange along the horizon and the warmth seeping up from the earth gave any indication that it had even been there at all.

 

“Uh,” Leon cleared his throat and tried again, not liking the way his voice was quivering. “What are you doing there, D?” `Yeah,' he thought, `that was much better. I sound more normal and very much in control.'

 

“Lighting incense,” he replied shortly.

 

Leon frown was impressive. “What the Hell for?”

 

“Because it is getting dark now,” D replied patiently as he carefully arranged the five incense sticks, “and I don't know about you, Detective, but I do not wish to serve as an all you can eat buffet for the mosquitoes. May I borrow you're lighter, please?”

 

“Uh, sure, whatever,” Leon mumbled, digging into the front pocket of his jeans to produce a slightly battered silver plated cigarette lighter. With practiced ease he depressed the gas button for a second before flicking the igniter to spark the flame. He then held it out to D, “Here you go.”

 

Carefully, D took the lighter and lit the incense sticks, one after the other. Once the flame touched the sticks, the tips first smoldered bright red, then dulled as they began to release wavy streams of scented smoke into the night air. Once all the sticks were lit, he flipped closed the lid and handed the lighter back to Leon.

 

“Thank you, Detective,” With that he rose smoothly and headed back to the tree, leaving the incense to burn freely.

 

“Hey, no problem,” Leon mumbled, stuffing it back into his pocket and following at a slightly slower pace. With a sigh he took a seat beside D, who was sipping his soda contentedly.

 

The wind currents shifted somewhat which carried the rich scent of the newly lit incense to his nose. He inhaled lightly, found the scent to his liking, and then inhaled again, deeper this time, filling his lungs with a scent that was soft, warm, and woodsy.

 

“What is that stuff you're burning?”

 

D glanced up at Leon, then back towards the lighted incense only a few feet away. “It's sandalwood,” he replied between sips.

 

“Sandalwood, huh?”

 

“Yes, it has been a major ingredient in perfume for more than two thousand years,” D said, replacing the cap to his soda and setting it aside.

 

“That's one hell of a long time,” Leon mumbled, unconsciously scooting a bit closer to the other man.

 

“Yes, it is.”

 

There was something almost sad in D's voice, something Leon couldn't quite put his finger on. If he didn't know any better, he would say that D sounded… almost lonely. Yes, it seemed ridiculous that anyone could sound lonely while in the company of people, but once he identified this quality in D's voice, he was positive that he was not mistaken. If nothing else, he could sympathize a bit.

 

Licking his lips nervously, Leon reached out and hesitantly draped his arm over D's shoulder. There were no people around to see this action and jump to conclusions about him or his intentions, no one to point fingers or whisper behind the backs of their hands to their friends. They were all alone and away from the watchful eyes of society. Not that he was doing anything… weird. He was just a guy who wanted to offer some small comfort to a friend. That's all.

 

Or at least that's what he kept trying to tell himself. But even he wasn't buying this line of bull.

 

At first D stiffen when his arm came to rest lightly along his shoulders, and for one frantic moment Leon wondered if he had perhaps overstepped his boundaries. But then, after a few tense moments, he felt the smaller man relax marginally beneath his arm. After a few more minutes passed, he relaxed a bit more and actually leaned against him, resting his dark head against his shoulder with a soft humming sigh.

 

Leon's heart thudded heavily in his ears and he swallowed hard. `This can not be happening,' he thought crazily, `here I am on the 4th of July, on the top of a hill in the middle of nowhere holding a man in my arms and allowing him to rest his head against my shoulder. And not just any man, Count fucking D. Jesus Christ.'

 

And it felt good. Hell, it felt right. And that was the scariest part of all.

 

`Say something!' his mind screamed, `Don't just sit here like a lump. Open your mouth and talk to him.'

 

Nervously, Leon reached down and picked up the flashlight he had set down earlier. For several moments he fumbled with it, before finally clicking it on. The white beam cut through the darkness like a knife, and shone straight into his eyes, temporarily blinding him. With a mumbled curse he set it down again and pointed it slightly away from him so that it offered illumination without totally killing his night vision.

 

After clearing his throat a few times, Leon opened his mouth, and promptly shut it again. `What the hell am I supposed to say?' he demanded and actually heard the mental groan that issued forth from his inner self.

 

`Just say anything, idiot!' He heard his mind scream again. `Tell him that he has beautiful eyes, that it feels really nice to hold him like this. Or…I don't know… Jesus Christ! You've never had a problem talking to him before so just open up your mouth and say something!'

 

“So… uh…D… that sandalwood stuff… it must have a lot of really good uses since it's been around for damned near forever.”

 

He felt D nod his head before he opened his mouth and replied. “Yes, it does in fact. I ordered these incense sticks from Mysore, India, which produces the best quality oil. Sandalwood is an effective natural bug repellent, and is used to treat many ailments from insomnia to persistent coughs and sore throats.”

 

“Wow,” Leon whistled low, impressed in spite of himself. “That's one useful plant.”

 

“Indeed,” D murmured, then added in a soft voice hardly more than a whisper, “it's also known to act as… an aphrodisiac.”

 

“A-aphrodisiac?” Leon stammered, dumbfounded. “As in a substance that…” he cleared his throat, which suddenly seemed a bit dry. “Uh…causes arousal or intensifies sexual desire? You mean that kind of aphrodisiac?”

 

D bowed his head almost shyly and hid his face behind a curtain of black hair. “Yes… and it is a very effective one at that.”

 

“No shit.” Realizing what he had just said, Leon cleared his throat again as he felt his cheeks start to burn. “I mean, isn't that… interesting.”

 

D raised his head and shifted his position slightly so that he was looking up at Leon. The light was dim, but the expression on his face was undeniable for all that. There was a need there, a longing that put a flush in his cheeks and a sparkle in his eyes.

 

“I didn't know you were so interested in essential oils or aromatherapy, Detective.” he whispered, tilting his head back in order to meet his eyes.

 

“Neither did I actually.” Leon breathed, unconsciously dipping his head closer toward D. “But they seem to be…uh… really fascinating subjects.”

 

Without even realizing his was doing it, Leon reached down with his free hand and gently cupped D's face gently before playing his fingers through his thick, black hair. He brushed it back from the other man's face, loving the feel of the smooth strands sliding between his fingers. An almost possessive smile spread along his lips as he heard D's quiet gasps and watched as his unusual eyes widened in an almost comical expression of surprise. It both pleased and frightened him in equal measures that D made no move to pull away, but rather pressed his face into Leon's hand, rubbing his cheek along it much the same way a cat would, his eyelids drooping until his lashes fanned along the paleness of his cheek.

 

“Oh, Detective…” The words floated on the air between them.

 

“Leon,” Leon corrected in a voice gone husky. “My name… is Leon.”

 

Ducking his head, D repeated the name in the barest whisper, rolling it off his tongue, tasting it and finding it good. Of course, he had always known what the detective's name was, but had never dreamed of using it…not without express permission. Despite all of their heated arguments, theirs had always been such a formal relationship, almost that of predator and prey with Leon playing the role of the hunter. But over time things had slowly changed between them and their relationship evolved into friendship and now it was taking on a completely new aspect that defied logic.

 

Now, as D titled his head back so that he was once more gazing up into Leon's eyes, he was forced to wonder which of them was now the predator and which the prey?

 

Drawing his hand slowly along the contours or D's face, Leon paused at the corner of his mouth, After a moment's hesitation, he traced the pad of his forefinger over D's slightly parted lips, gently, loving how soft they were, how warm. Then, to his surprise, D wrapped his lips around the tip of his finger and drew it into the moist recesses of his mouth. After offering a wicked smile, he began sucking gently, laving his tongue along the tip of his finger all the while causing thousands of delightful shivers to work their way through his body and down to Leon's groin.

 

“Ah, Jesus fucking Christ, D,” Leon moaned, as the other man began to pull the finger into his mouth then draw it slowly out again slowly at first, then in a slightly faster pace, bobbing his head as he moved, all the while sucking and swirling his tongue around the digit in a maddeningly accurate imitation of a much more intimate sexual act.

 

Thanks to the stimulation he was currently receiving, Leon could imagine how such an act could be taken a bit further. In his mind's eye, he saw the two of them stretched out naked on the red checkered picnic blanket, the scent of the grass and trees perfuming the cooling night air as it swirled around them. There was no one around but the stars and moon overhead to bear witness to their actions. D's pale body glowing in the moonlight as he knelt between his legs, his dark, dark hair brushing against Leon's inner thighs, tickling, as he took his length into his mouth. The moist, tight heat of him wrapping around his erection as his wicked little tongue stroked him, urging him towards release…

 

The first low flower-burst explosion of the fireworks display caught Leon by complete surprise and he jerked upright and away from D, finger and all, with a ragged gasp. The second one, a green eruption of magnificent proportions, lit up the sky shortly after. Its fleeting brilliance highlighted the look of surprise and hurt that etched itself along D's pale face before he turned away to hide behind the black fall of his hair.

 

“I'm sorry, Detective,” D husked, pulling away and wrapping his arms about himself protectively. “I overstepped my bounds. Please… forgive me.”

 

He made as if to rise, but before he could make good his escape, Leon was reaching out and wrapping his arms around his shoulders, pulling him back down and holding him close to his body. For a moment D struggled against him, rubbing their bodies against each other in a deliciously wonderful manner that sent hot blood sizzling through Leon's veins. But his efforts at escape were half-hearted at best and D eventually went completely still once he realized that Leon's grip was much stronger than it appeared.

 

Another burst of colorful explosions lit up the night sky in a riot of blues, greens, reds and purples. The crowd's ohh's and ahh's of admiration were floated to Leon's ears on the freshening breeze. But like the fireworks that lit up the sky, the voices were far off and unimportant.

 

“Detective,” D gasped, his voice and eyes pleading, “Release me at once, I beg of you!”

 

“No!” Leon's voice was firm but low, earnest. “Not until you tell me what's wrong.”

 

D raised his head and forced himself to look directly into Leon's eyes looking every bit as cool and unruffled as he almost always did back in the shop. But when he spoke his words were soft, tremulous…hesitant. “I shouldn't have done that… I took too many liberties-“

 

Leon gave D's shoulders a frustrated little shake, cutting off his explanation in mid-sentence. “Did I say I didn't like what you were doing, D?”

 

“No,” D replied slowly, “but you-“

 

With a low growl, Leon delivered another shake, more forceful this time. “Did I tell you to stop at any time?”

 

Again, D answered no.

 

“Look, D, I just…” Leon began then trailed off, not knowing exactly what he want to say or how he should go about saying it. “I mean - Damn it!”

 

Leon's hand drew itself up in a fist and he slammed it against his thigh, growling in frustration. Why couldn't he have been born with a silver tongue like so many of those leading men that he saw on the big screen? Why couldn't he just tell D exactly what he was thinking, feeling? Why couldn't he just express himself?

 

But even though his brain, mouth and tongue seemed unable to get their acts together long enough for him to express himself verbally, his body knew exactly what he wanted to say. So he took a deep breath and let his body do the talking. Taking D once more by the shoulders, he lowered his lips to his and kissed him as slowly and as tenderly as he knew how.

 

At first D's hands flew up to his shoulders as if to push him away, but then he relaxed into the kiss, dug his fingers into the red cotton of Leon's shirt and pulled him closer, then closer still. Small sounds of need escaped his throat and he parted his lips in silent invitation.

 

Never being one to refuse an invitation, Leon ran his tongue lightly along D's inner lip then nipped at his bottom lip playfully. His strong hands plunged into the black silk that was D's hair, fisting lightly as he deepened the kiss into something fierce, wild and totally free. When breathing became an issue, he pulled away and pressed his chin against the top of D's head.

 

“D, oh God…D,” Leon moaned into his hair, nuzzling it with his nose and mouth. “What are you doing to me?”

 

“No more than you are doing to me, Detective,” D offered with a slightly breathless chuckle.

 

Leon blinked at that, pulled back for a moment, and thumped the tip of his forefinger against D's nose. “That's Leon, D, remember? I'm not on duty and I have a name. Please use it.”

 

D lowered his eyes and tried to look contrite but the saucy smile that played along his lips belied the effort. “Forgive me, Leon. It's a force of habit to address you by your rank.”

 

“Well, maybe I'll have to find a way to make you remember then, won't I?”

 

One black brow arched in response to that. “Oh? And how do you intend to do that?”

 

“I'll think of something, trust me.”

 

With that he took hold of D's shoulders and gently pushed him back until they were both lying flat against the blankets, their bodies pressed together. As his hands fumbled with the frog closures of D's chiao-fu, his lips burned a line of tiny kisses down his pale throat. When the last fastening fell away, he pushed the brocaded silk up and off of D's shoulders, exposing a smooth expanse of milk white skin.

 

“But what about the fireworks display?” D gasped as Leon took one pink nipple into his mouth and began to suckle in earnest.

 

Leon released his nipple and chuckled low in his throat. “Forget about the display,” he murmured and pressed a kiss on the corner of D's mouth. “We're going to be making plenty of our own sparks soon enough.”

 

 

THE END