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Hi, my name is Damien
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 | [Three] Black Ice |
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 5 with 6 vote(s)
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| Created: 2009-06-12 17:47:46 |
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Chapter three: Dance with the devil
Caitlyn’s room was cramped, smaller than Damien’s and cluttered with teenage junk. Her bed was pressed against the wall longwise, a few teddies crushed at the foot of her bed. Her wardrobe was slotted behind the large headboard of her bed, the doors flung open to reveal a long mirror and dishevelled clothes that had been rooted and searched through almost violently. The window was above her bed, flung open to let in the cool breeze of the still light evening. Her limp pale purple curtains billowed out with the light wind. Her desk was the next thing, squeezed in the remaining space on the opposite wall, besides her battered chest of drawers. It was cluttered with assignments and make up, the surface marked by nail polish and mascara. The only thing on her desk that wasn’t smeared with make up was her computer screen that sat quietly in the corner.
And it was at this desk that Caitlyn sat, the computer left on so that her iTunes could provide a musical soundtrack to her getting ready. She was leant over her desk, tipping her chair forward as she applied her eyeliner with intense concentration. And Damien watched, bored, from atop her bed. Her purse sat beside her, a thin stick of lip balm threatening to roll out.
She looked good that evening. Her jeans were skinny fit, ripped and a dark grey. Her small feet were covered with knee boots, black leather with buckles and she wore a pretty corset top and a light black cardigan to match. Caitlyn looked in her mirror, gazing at Damien’s reflection after hearing him shift on her bed. In the reflection, she saw he was sitting on his knees, his gaze fixed out the window and his expression unreadable. His lips were pursed, his eyes clouded. He appeared to be thinking about something, but Caitlyn didn’t even attempt to hazard a guess.
“It’s rude to stare, Caitlyn,” Damien reprimanded in a tone that was strangely gently quiet. The usual danger was hard to detect and Caitlyn was surprised, never before had she heard such a tone in Damien’s voice, never heard such genuine subtlety. And she would never hear it again. His eyes slid to meet hers in the mirror. There was an odd emotion glittering within those icy orbs, something Caitlyn couldn’t identify, and, when she thought about it, she probably didn’t want to.
“Sorry,” she whispered apologetically, her gaze falling to the marred surface of her desk, her hand which held the mascara brush falling slightly.
“Hmmm…” the sound of contemplative as his eyes returned to the window, gazing into the silence of the streets.
I could not tell you what Damien was thinking at that particular point, or why he felt in that moment comfortable enough to reveal a more sensitive side of himself in front of Caitlyn, but I do know she understood a little of what she had seen. She realised the significance of the gentle tone, the thoughtful eyes and she cherished this memory, even now. The chance to see Damien in such a state was never to come again, not for any living creature anyway. From here on out, Damien was only to get more disconnected and self-protective.
“Ready?” Damien asked, his eyes looking Caitlyn up and down with a sense of approval as she stood, her face made up and pretty. She nodded, grabbing her coat from the back of her door and smiled.
“Yeah, let’s go have fun,” she beamed, hiding her curiosity into Damien’s previous mild behaviour well.
Damien’s smirk was back, his thoughts less innocent now as he guided Caitlyn out of the door. “Lets…” The door had closed behind them with a quiet snap.
When we join Damien once more, he had already had a bit to drink, enough to make his smile real and his legs a little unstable, but not enough to make him not know exactly what he was doing. The music was thudding overhead, loud and repetitive in a way that vaguely annoyed him and would continue to do so into adulthood. He was with Caitlyn at the time, swigging from his bottle and chuckling at Caitlyn’s slurred bxtchy comments about Lucinda who was practically having clothed sex with Ben in time with the music.
It had been easy getting them into the club; a flash of a suggestive smile and bedroom eyes was all it had taken to charm the bouncer. It’s all it ever took. Damien took it as a personal challenge to turn on even the straight bouncers. He liked it when he managed to nab a straight guy, it stroked his ego in ways attracting a normal man or woman couldn’t.
It would be naïve of me to assume Damien hadn’t had at least a handful of sexual exploits by that age. It would be foolish to assume his innocence remained intact, which with a face like his and his casual disregard for social norms it would be ridiculous to presume as such. By then, I am certain Damien had already discovered that both males and females were appealing and had experimented with both sexes.
It was crowded by that time. The dance floor was a sea of gyrating bodies, an amalgamation of males and females, all various degrees of drunkenness and dancing to the music and thundered from the many jumping speakers.
Damien shook his head to Caitlyn’s giggling. Her words were barely heard over the music, but Damien could grasp the general meaning: Lucinda was a two faced whxre who needed a slap. When Caitlyn was drunk was when Damien truly loved her. She was feisty then, fearless and insulting, and Damien loved it, quite frankly. It was so different from her usual need to keep the peace.
“And she is always all over you,” Caitlyn was slurring, her head shaking in disapproval. “I mean, I know you would never do anything with her but please, like she is good enough for you. She’s a petty little skank.” Damien just laughed, taking another mouthful of beer.
“You’re drunk,” he observed with amusement. Caitlyn’s light-weight-ness was always a subject of teasing. A few beers and she were gone, chattering about nonsense and badmouthing those around her. Her face fell dramatically, misinterpreting Damien’s tone as something nasty.
“Sorry…” she mumbled, an intonation barely heard over the music. She chewed her lip worriedly, her eyes lowered.
Damien chuckled before staggering a little as someone barged into his shoulder. He cursed darkly, eyes flashing in the direction of the figure now moving swiftly through the crowds, before he switched his attention onto the female in front of him. “Don’t apologise,” he said, his smile almost dark. “I like it when you’re drunk. You’re delightfully bxtchy.” He kissed her temple lightly, his slight inebriation making him a little more lenient towards bodily contact with anyone really.
He looked up when he felt eyes on him. Raising an eyebrow, he glanced around himself and saw that just where the figure had been standing, the one who had shoved so roughly past him, was a man who was staring at him with a small smile. Somewhere in Damien’s mind he recognised that face, but his mind wasn’t working fast enough to locate the needed information. The man was good looking though, so Damien smiled, pointedly looking away and stepping back from the crowds towards the bar.
“Where ya going?” Caitlyn called, staggering after him, and grabbing his wrist. Carefully avoiding the gaze still on him, Damien pointed to his near empty bottle.
“More drink,” he explained, before pushing Caitlyn away. Caitlyn smiled and nodded understandingly, before disappearing unsteadily into the crowd once more. Perhaps, somewhere in her drunkenness she recognised that familiar look about Damien that told her he had found someone he wanted to latch his claws into. She always had been perceptive. He pushed his way to the bar, smiling apologetically at a female he accidentally barged.
“Sorry,” he charmed, grabbing her hand to keep her from falling on her heels, and kissing her knuckles. Only when it suited him did Damien act the gentleman. The red head’s expression of anger faded into a girlish giggle as Damien released her and leant on the bar, ordering yet another beer. The barman shook his head a Damien.
“You’re brother wouldn’t like me serving you, you know,” he commented, an eyebrow raised and Damien merely shrugged.
“My brother is dead Tom,” Damien said harshly. Tom winced. “Besides, wasn’t it he who first brought me here?”
“You may have a point there,” Tom sighed, grudgingly handing over a beer and accepting the change Damien dropped into his palm. Damien lifted the beer in mock cheers, jumping only slightly when he felt a hand on the small of his back. He looked over his shoulder.
“Quite the gentleman, aren’t you?” the stranger whispered in his ear, “helping that lass…”
Damien chuckled into his beer. “Unlike you, who just carried on walking,” he retorted, drawing the cool rim of the bottle away from his lips. There was a laugh, breath ghosting on his neck. Damien suppressed the instinctive shudder that threatened to shock his spine.
“Quite…” The lips were brushing his ear. “Have I seen you before?” Damien stood up straight, turning so that his back was leaning against the hard wooden edge of the bar. His eyes studied the face of the stranger. Messy brunette hair, nice green eyes that were focused intently on him, defined features, long straight nose. Yeah, hadn’t he thought the same thing? He looked familiar, someone he had just seen in the passing…
“Yes you have,” Damien said a moment later, realisation filtering through his consciousness. “You were staring at me on my way home from work this evening.” The stranger smiled.
“I was staring? And what about you?”
“Merely appreciating,” he countered; his smile was sly as he gauged the strangers’ reaction. He chuckled; his head tilted a little as he studied the younger boy. Had I been alive and known this was going on, I would’ve gouged his eyes out. But I could do nothing. I couldn’t save him from the pain he was to endure.
No one could.
His number was up the moment he drew the attention of that man.
He was forsaken the moment his eyes met those of that man.
He was damned the moment his lips were pressed to those of that man.
He was drowning before he or anyone else even realised he was out of his depth, and it was to derail him in the worse of ways.
“I’m Gabriel,” the brunette said, holding out a hand in a mock formality. He had already decided exactly how the night was going to go when he set eyes on Damien.
“Damien,” he replied, taking that hand. And just like that, my younger brothers’ fate was sealed.
“Well Damien, just how old are you?” Gabriel asked. “Something tells me you aren’t quite old enough to be in a place like this.”
Damien smirked, taking a sip of his beer. “All you need to know is that I am old enough to know exactly what I am doing.” Even an elephant on drugs could catch the suggestive implications of Damien’s words. Gabriel smiled approvingly. He liked Damien, liked his attitude towards things. It was refreshing.
“And what exactly are you doing?” he asked, his voice low and seductive in Damien’s ear. Damien smiled, his eyes dropping to Gabriel’s lips for a moment before he pushed away from the bar, his gaze steady in Gabriel’s face.
“Well, that’s really up to you, I think.”
“You’re giving me free rein?” Damien chuckled and nodded. “You’ll regret that,” Gabriel promised, something I wish Damien had taken seriously. But he had only smiled enigmatically.
“Perhaps.” He walked away then, moving gracefully towards Caitlyn who was dancing with Callum, who looked drunk, his cheeks flushed with the heat of being surrounded by so many bodies. Damien didn’t look over his shoulder, he knew Gabriel would follow. And he did.
Laying his hands securely on Damien’s hips, he pulled the younger boys’ lithe frame towards his own body and kissed his neck. Damien chuckled, taking another sip of beer, letting Gabriel mark him as his for the evening. He hissed only briefly when the kiss took a brutal twist into a bite, closing his eyes for a moment to recollect himself after the shock of abrupt pain shocking through his system. He wasn’t surprised to find that it wasn’t a turn off, the sharp feeling of pain.
Caitlyn had glanced over her shoulder and witnessed the slight hiss of pain, her face confused. But Damien’s sharp look of ‘back-off-and-continue-with-your-business’ was enough to dissuade her from intervening with what was going on. It never bode well to interrupt Damien when he was half way through something. She had learnt that the hard way a long time ago. Callum’s eyes however lingered a little longer on the pair, on the painfully pleasurable bruise forming on Damien’s neck and chewed his lip worriedly.
Perhaps Callum was more perceptive then anyone gave him credit for, perhaps he could sense the danger forming, see the black clouds rolling in. Or perhaps he simply didn’t like the image of Damien being bruised by anyone. Whatever the reason, he felt incredibly uneasy watching his friend in such a position.
“Quit staring Callum. Damien won’t like you ignoring his warning,” Caitlyn warned sounding more sober then she had since she first started drinking. Callum nodded slowly, dragging his eyes away from his friend, and storing the information up for later analysis with Martyn.
Damien, him self was also chewing his lip, eyes closed. The lips at his neck had left the bruise but were far from hesitant in marking the rest of the milky stretch of skin, in tasting the remaining of his throat. He hadn’t realised his neck was such a weak point, but the bites and kisses were proving that he very much did enjoy the attention.
Surrounded by hot, sweaty bodies was perhaps not the best place to be allowing oneself to be rendered slowly into a groaning mess, and lucky, Gabriel seemed to know this. Perhaps he had an affinity with Damien's sense of pride, or perhaps he simply wanted Damien’s reactions to be solely for him, but whatever he reasons, he dragged Damien away. Damien turned, eyebrow raised as a hand wrapped around his wrist tightly and pulled him towards the male bathroom. Damien almost shook his head, but he had been propelled through the door before he could and pinned against a cool tiled wall.
Then there were lips crushing his, insistent and demanding. They wanted and desired, they commanded and demanded. Bruising kisses, they were, harsh and brutal. The clash of supple flesh against supple flesh was delightfully, painfully sinful. Damien kissed back, parting his abused lips and allowing Gabriel’s persistent tongue to slice against his own.
His large hands gripped powerfully at Damien's hips, pinning his upper back into the hard tile, but yanking his lower body and hips into his body possessively. Damien’s own hands were tangled in messy brunette hair, the embrace more an achingly ardent battle for dominance over the other then a romantic or passionate embrace of a one night stand. Each slice of tongue was matched with one of his own, his chest aching with a need he would never admit. In reality, at that age, Damien didn’t mind to be submissive. He wouldn’t mind, every now and then, submitting to another and this was one of those times when he desperately wanted to, but his pride wouldn’t allow him without a decent fight.
“You really shouldn’t have given a free rein,” Gabriel said breathlessly against Damien’s lips.
“Really? I’m quite looking forward to it,” Damien replied cheekily, his smirk swallowed by insistent lips. The sound of the bathroom door opening wasn’t enough to interrupt them, the low, uncomfortable coughed “right…well…” of some guy as he deliberated whether to ignore the couple and go to the toilet or leave and take a leak in the alley, barely seeping through the world they had created about themselves, a world of violent passion and cruel embraces.
The coppery slide of blood was coating his bottom lip as Damien felt the flesh tear under the onslaught of Gabriel’s teeth. He groaned. He hadn’t really had anything like this, or at least, nothing to this extreme. He was surprised to find just how exciting it really was, the pain, the pleasure, the blood, it all melded into one euphoric experience that he couldn’t help but enjoy.
Gabriel was biting along his jaw, Damien’s heart hammering his chest, his breathing laboured. His mind was still trying to battle against his stronger persona, this more dominant creature, but his body had already given up to the touches, if the low groans spilling from his bloodied lips were anything to go by. His head feel back against the tiles, the pain barely registering as a hand was roughly dragged up his inner thigh.
Gabriel was enjoying the way Damien was slowly submitting to his rough touches, the taste of coppery blood from Damien’s lips lightly coating his tongue. It only serves to increase his already rampant desire. But he could keep this as tame as he could. When he fully had Damien within his grasp, it would all really begin…
***
When Damien returned from the bathroom (they had managed to relocate into a cubicle rather then discomforting any other visitor to the facilities), he was decidedly dishevelled. His hair was messy; his eyes glassy from the afterglow and his smile the lazy slide of someone who had just had a very good time. His neck was bruised and his bottom lip scabbed over from the attack of teeth to soft flesh. Gabriel was standing behind him, his gaze possessive to any male or female that dared to glance in Damien’s direction as he passed. In Gabriel’s eyes, Damien was his property now, his property to treat however he pleased.
No one else was allowed even a look.
His hand went to Damien’s waist once more as they shifted through the crowd. Damien glanced down at it, his eyebrow raised, but he said nothing of the grip as he paused at the bar to order a drink. Yet, as Damien opened his mouth to order, it was Gabriel’s voice that spoke over the top of him, ordering a further two beers. Damien frowned, annoyed at the treatment, but again he said nothing. If it continued, he would, but until then, he held his tongue. He moved, turning to look over his shoulder to search for the flushed figures of his friends, lost somewhere in the jumping sea of bodies.
The heat radiating from Gabriel’s soaked through to Damien’s skin, warming it to an almost sickening amount. Damien shook off the hold, stepping out from Gabriel’s cage with a flash of a smile.
“Too hot,” he explained, keep his voice low and velvety as he found his usual rupture of attraction was stronger for Gabriel then any other person he had had sex with. He wasn’t as tempted as to sever ties with him as he would usually be after getting what he wanted. He found Gabriel intriguing, interesting.
It was a most dangerous interest, I must say.
“Kate’s looking for you.” Damien looked up from the beer Gabriel had handed him, his eyes falling on Martyn. His eyes flicked over to Gabriel and gave him a disinterested once over, before setting his gaze fully on Damien. “She’s worried.”
Damien sipped from his bottle. “She worries too much. She saw me not to long ago.”
Martyn glanced once again in Gabriel’s direction, who was monitoring the conversation with a slightly tilted head. He found Damien’s reactions or lack thereof, fascinating. Damien’s whole way of being was captivating to him. He enjoyed watching his reactions, as small and subtle as they were: a slight shift in the way he held himself, in the way he stood, in his facial expression. Everything was intriguing.
“Yes, but she was worried about,” Martyn chuckled, “the guy you were with. No offence,” he added, glancing once again at the idly smiling eighteen-year-old.
Gabriel raised his hand. “None taken,” he said with a slight nod.
Damien however gritted his teeth in annoyance. “She’s a fool,” he growled, eyes flashing dangerously, before waving Martyn away, vaguely annoyed by the comment, by the insinuation that he needed to be cared for.
But in reality, he did need someone to look out for him. And she was right to worry about Damien latest choice in evening partner. Not that he would listen, Damien wouldn’t listen to advice. He would stride through life stubborn, ignoring even the best laid advice and making his own choices. Granted, any mistakes he did make, he could often morph into an opportunity. But he was still human. Some mistakes can’t be altered or morphed into gold. Some mistakes will never leave you. Some mistakes will not be a chance in disguise of disaster.
Damien needed Caitlyn’s concern at that point in his life, and I wished he had harkened to her concerns about Gabriel. I wish he were to listen to all the future concerns she voiced as their relationship blossomed into something so horrible, it was in a way disturbingly beautiful. I wish he were to listen to the dark whispering voice he rarely paid attention to and paid heed to the words it sighed, the problems it foresaw and the danger it prophesied.
Oh, how I wish Damien had waltzed down a very different path. |
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ALALA