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Define Arc	By : BlackberryPatch Category: +M to R > Pet Shop of Horrors Views: 8525 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Pet Shop of Horrors, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Desecration
- 2-Despot
- 3-Damask
- 4-Definition
- 5-Damsel
- 6-Dearth
- 7-Dirigere
- 8-Disturbance
- 9-Decadence
- 10-Disease
- 11-Draht
- 12-Darkness
- 13-Dva
- 14-Daguerreotype
- 15-Draconigenae
- 16-Deification
- 17-Deviant
- 18-Doyoubi
- 2
- 3
- 4
Disclaimer: I do not own Pet Shop of Horrors and I am making no money from this or any other fan related work.

Warnings: yaoi/lemon.

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"Damask"

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"More tea, Detective?"

Leon shied away as the Count leaned down beside him and started to pour the tea. "Ah, no thanks D,� he said hurriedly. "I really should be going." And, pausing to ruffle Chris' hair on his way out, he left.

D stared after him for a while, then shook himself from his reverie and set the teapot down, rather more forcefully that he'd intended,
the delicate china lid rattling in protest. Glancing at the teapot contritely D sat on the couch and sighed.

"Is something wrong Count?" Chris came up and looked at D worriedly. "Did my brother do something?"

D smiled at him and said vaguely, "No, it is rather what your brother hasn't done. But don't worry yourself. Why don't you take that last piece of cake and see if Pon-chan would like to share it with you?" Chris grinned and nodded, and took off with his prize before he stopped to wonder about the fact that the Count had just freely given up one of his favorite desserts. Had he looked back he would have seen D still seated on the couch, staring moodily at nothing.

He was sitting there still when the front door abruptly flew open. D turned to see the newcomer, a lecture on the proper method of opening doors on the tip of his tongue, but he froze when he looked at the young man in the doorway.

The young man's skin almost looked grey; his wild hair was more rosy than brown and his eyes were wideset and dark. Excitement illuminated his features. "Come!" he cried exultantly, tossing his head. "It is time!! Come Count, come with me and we will go to see them!!" He came forward and took D's hand, pulling him toward the door. D hesitated, but only momentarily.

When Chris returned later, empty plate in hand, he looked around the pet shop but
couldn't find the Count.

-o-o-o-o-

"Hey Orcot. Seen this one yet?" Another detective tossed the paper across Leon's desk. "Apparently, some horse went crazy and tore up half of Chinatown looking for something before it disappeared."

At those words, Leon seized the paper, scanning it.

Jill leveled a sardonic look at the other detective. "Animal control is down a floor."

"Yeah, but we all know about Orcot's love of Chinatown. What, you got a girlfriend there or something?"
"His brother," Jill replied flatly, Leon too absorbed in reading to have heard the comment. The detective shot them both a look before tossing up his hand in a noncommittal gesture and walking away.

Leon checked the front of the paper. "This happened yesterday?"

"Yeah, I guess so," Jill said, reading over his shoulder. "What, the Count didn't say anything about it when you saw him?"

Leon mumbled something indistinct and stood up, moving away from Jill. He may have gone there for tea yesterday, but it would take both hands and at least one of his feet to count the number of days it had been since his last visit before that. Honestly, it had been months since he had been what could be called a frequent visitor to the pet shop. Ever since that day when something in him, something hateful and destructive, had unleashed itself on the Count he hadn't felt entirely comfortable in D's presence. D had reassured him repeatedly that what had happened that day was not his fault, but he still felt responsible. He didn't want that happening again... so he visited D as little as possible and when he did he
told himself he was going in order to see Chris. It wasn't the way he wanted things to be. Leon missed having tea at the pet shop everyday... He missed seeing D everyday. But he tried not to think about it too much, and so far that strategy had been working. Most of the time...

Leon had picked up the phone and dialed the number of the pet shop without thinking. He froze for a moment, but figured the damage was already done and waited for D to pick up.

He didn't.

After about 10 rings Leon dropped the phone and practically flew out of the office, tossing a quick "be right back" at Jill in passing.

Arriving at the door to the shop he found it locked. He banged on the door; after a few moments he started shouting Chris' name.

Almost as soon as he said his brother's name, he heard the sound of locks being turned and the door opened to reveal Chris' pale face. "Bro!" he cried and Leon enveloped him in a hug.

"Hey, where's D?" Leon asked urgently.

"I don't know!" Chris looked worried. "Yesterday... I went to find Pon-chan and he just disappeared. Pon-chan said not to worry, she said he does this sometimes, but I can't help it."

Leon held Chris for a few minutes comfortingly before he felt he had to say, "Chris. I have to..."

But Chris nodded, smiling now that his brother was here. "I know, you have to go look for Count D. I can stay here. It's okay." Leon regarded him seriously for a moment, then nodded.

"Okay. I'll be back as soon as I can." Chris nodded, and Leon turned to leave.

-o-o-o-o-

The ocean stretched out before them as D and the young man sat resting on the beach.

"It's so vast." The young man regarded the water with slight nervousness. He shifted restlessly. "All that water... and you can't even drink it!"

D laughed lightly. "You cannot drink it perhaps, but it exists for others."

The young man cocked his head in thought. "I suppose." He dismissed the idea then, as being out of his immediate concern, and lay back on the sand breathing heavily.

"We can go slower," D said, "if the pace tires you."

The young man shook his head. "No. If we take too long we might miss it."

"Perhaps you should then have better planned this pilgrimage."

"Oh Count, where's your sense of adventure?! Must everything be planned? Even I get so immured in the rut of daily life that a change is most welcome. What is it the humans say-
carpe diem? And this... to see them." He closed his eyes. "A dream I never thought I would have."

They sat for awhile then, in silence, D gazing out over the ocean. The young man stood. D looked up at him. "North still?"

The young man�s eyes sparkled. He tossed his head. "Yes Count. Further up and further in!"

-o-o-o-o-

"Rosegrove? That's an actual city? Town, whatever. In Oregon..." Leon wrote furiously, taking down an address. "And this woman definitely saw them? Okay. I'm in Eureka right now. Yeah, yeah, it's a city too smartass. Haha Jill." Finished writing, Leon handed the stub of a pencil back to the slightly hostile looking gas station attendant. "Yeah, I'll head that way now. I can't believe he got this far already. Shit, don't give me any of that jurisdiction crap." Leon shifted the phone to his other hand. �Yeah, yeah, I know. I'll get it back if I can. What? Yeah, yeah, 10 million, Damask, stud horse, blah blah, whatever. Look, this isn't about the horse. Dammit Jill, I don�t know what it's about, but I have to do this. Yeah. You what? So, he believed you? Thanks for that." He listened for a long time, looking alternately sheepish and embarrassed. "Thanks," he said again, softer. "Yeah, I'll call you later." Hanging up the phone, Leon nodded absently at the attendant as he went back out to his car.

-o-o-o-o-

The farmer, arranging flowers in a box under the front windows of his house, happened to glance up just in time to see what was probably the most astonishing sight his town had seen all year. What appeared to be a young woman, exotically dressed, was riding up to him on the back of the most astonishing horse he had ever seen. His eyes were irresistibly drawn to the animal.

A long slender head was perched atop the most delicately arched neck, inquisitive ears pricked forward as the stallion picked his way delicately over the ground toward the farmer. Strong, sloped shoulders supported the neck and a long, straight back
lead down to hindquarters bunched with muscle. Dark reddish forelock fell into wide set, intelligent eyes
as the silky mane feathered down over the shoulders, a matching tail trailing behind like a banner. Muscles twitched under satin smooth skin the color of tumbled quartz, a smoky brown that dappled in grey highlights. The stallion's flanks were heavy with sweat and heaved slightly as he breathed deeply. It was like being at the finish line of an endurance race and seeing the winner come in- because the farmer was certain, as he was of his own name, that this horse was always a winner. The creature combined beauty and strength, the seeming delicacy of the stallion's features belying the iron constitution bred carefully into every muscle.

The rider slipped down from the stallion's back, and the farmer noted absently that the horse wore no bridle or restraint of any kind. "Sir," she addressed the farmer, "Is this the farm of a Mr. George Blejan?"

"Why... yes it is," the farmer answered, surprised. "How can I help you miss?"

The young woman smiled ironically, and bowed. "Mr. Blejan, we," the horse snorted to emphasize its inclusion, "have come quite a long way. Could you possibly point us to your rose garden?"

George blushed. "How do you know about my roses?"

The young woman smiled. "In the same way that all true enthusiasts find each other. May we see them?"

"Yes, yes, of course." George guided them around the edge of the house, to the garden that was his pride and joy. He stood to the side and gestured the young woman through the arc that lead to the garden. She paused a moment, closing her eyes and inhaling the scent of the flowers before stepping into the garden. George smiled fondly after her, as all people do when they have discovered someone who loves what they love, and retreated to the house, leaving the strange woman to enjoy the flowers in peace.

George had no sooner returned to the house than an extremely dirty car squealed into his driveway and discharged a young man of forceful personality and excessive annoyance. "Alright, where is he??" the man demanded, but George could only stare agape at this new, far ruder, intruder.

-o-o-o-o-

D inhaled the roses, their scent filling him with peace. He stepped through the arch and opened his eyes.

Roses tumbled and spread, filling his vision as the smell of them had invaded his nose. They covered the ground, growing over supports erected to guide them. Red, maroon, pink, magenta, violet, burgundy... every shade of red, every shade that had ever been thought of as even almost red, was represented in at least one blossom as varied species of roses regaled the viewer each with a slightly different style of beauty. A path wound down the middle of the garden and at a nudge from behind, D started walking down it, Damask following after him and looking around with avid curiosity.

The plants seemed to react to D's presence, reaching their leaves out to brush against him, curling around the fingers he reached down to them. When he paused to admire a particularly deep blossom, Damask nudged him forward. "Yes, yes," D murmured, moving aside to let the stallion pass him and then following as Damask resolutely made his way to a corner of the garden.

There was a rose there, just one, set apart. Its single, dark reddish blue bud was shut tight, but as the pair approached, it opened. D took it gently in his hand, and the blossom spread, filling his hand with its petals. It opened the last bit, pollen ready to be taken and spread to other flowers. D smiled at the flower sadly. Damask sighed, his soft breath sending the petals of the flower scattering in the air.

"Fifty years," D said quietly. He looked up at Damask. "That's a long time to wait."

The horse snorted in derision, but softly, since there was respect there too.
"Too long. This strain takes so long to reproduce that this is the last one of it left." He eyed one of the petals, lying on the ground, and softly lipped it up.

D watched him. "Humans don't have that sort of patience." He continued, more charitably, "Not many things in this world do."

The stallion flicked an ear at him. "And what's patience get you anyway?" He finished eating the flower's petals, closing his eyes for a moment to savor the taste, and raised his head to look at D, ears pricked forward for emphasis. "Dead, that's what it gets you." He glanced over at the now flowerless plant.
"I'll admit, the humans don't help along creatures they can't use. In a way, I am the exact opposite of my namesake. My breed has been so scrutinized and dissected by the humans that I am not allowed to choose a mate worthy of me- such things are chosen for me, to achieve the best results for the breed in the eyes of others. But," he looked up,
"I am still me. I choose to submit to them, because running pleases me, and pleasing them with my running pleases me. It is my life, and I suppose I have no room for patience. I don't wait for anyone." He turned his head, fixing one dark eye on D's face.
"If I did, I'd never get what I want."
D started slightly, opening his mouth to respond.

"And what the hell are you doing here?!"

Surprised, D whirled around to find Leon standing behind him on the path. The detective was flushed slightly, as if from running- or yelling- and D could only stare at him, surprise showing on his face. He hadn't expected... But perhaps he should have; it was Leon after all- he redefined tenacity. Receiving no answer, the detective walked forward a few steps and grabbed D by the arm demandingly. Almost instantly, he released his grip, regret flashing over his face and suddenly D couldn't take it anymore. He reached up and took Leon�s face in his hands, and, angling it just so, kissed him forcefully.

Leon couldn't move for a moment, but when the shock wore off he raised his hands and rested them on D's shoulders. D broke off the kiss and looked at Leon; Leon could only stare back at him, dazed. Smiling softly, D ran the fingers of one hand along Leon's jaw before placing both hands against the detective's chest and shoving him backwards. Leon bit off an expletive as he stumbled then sat down abruptly in a small flurry of petals. "Fuck, D these things have thorns!" Leon lifted one arm to examine the sleeve of his jacket only to find no scratches marring its surface.

D pushed him back slightly and dropped down on top of him, straddling him. He took the detective fiercely by the hair, pulling his head back and kissing him again. "These have no thorns," he murmured between kisses, and as Leon fell backwards against the ground he found it surprisingly soft, as if only the petals of the flowers had gathered there to make a bed for him. D was surprisingly aggressive; Leon barely had time to gasp for breath before the other man had taken his mouth again, exploring every corner of it with his- exceptionally long, Leon noted absently- tongue.

Eventually Leon had to take D by the shoulders and pull him away; leaning his head back, the detective's hastily gasped breath turned into a moan of desire and his fingers tightened reflexively around the other man's slender shoulders. D's own fingers snuck underneath Leon's t-shirt, pushing the fabric up, exposing flesh that his tongue explored eagerly. Leon sat up with a moan, shrugging his jacket off and pulling the annoying t-shirt over his head.

"D," Leon murmured, his fingers feeling overly large and clumsy as he pulled at the slick cloth of the Count's cheongsam,
trying to work the catch at his neck open. D took over, seeming to melt out of the garment, shrugging it off easily, not pausing a moment in his ministrations; his tongue traced the line of a scar along Leon's side as he rubbed the fleshy pad of his thumb over one hardened nipple, eliciting a gasped moan from the detective.

Impatiently, D pulled at the stiff fabric of Leon's jeans; Leon lifted his hips, his own hands
reaching to push the cloth down. D whisked the pants down past Leon's knees, kneeling between the detective's legs and leaning forward to cup his hands around Leon's arousal. Leon
shivered and moaned, D's hand cool and soft against his hot skin, and he reached a hand up to pull D's face close to his, kissing him eagerly.

D leaned back slightly, regarding Leon, then firmly pressed a finger into the detective's mouth. Leon accepted it, tracing the digit with his tongue, then his eyes seemed to widen, and he opened his mouth to protest. D covered that mouth with his own; when Leon put a hand to his shoulder, to push him away, his eyes narrowed intently. One hand reached down, teasing Leon's arousal distractingly, while he licked the fingers of the other himself and slid
two of them inside of the detective.

Leon gasped, then groaned deeply, his hands crushing the soft petals beneath him into a bloody pulp
as he felt those long, slender fingers stretching him. He turned his face away; this wasn't why he had followed D, he told himself, and he was ashamed by how much he wanted it to happen. God, it felt so good... D's fingers stroked
his cock with a touch that was at once both featheringly light and demandingly hard
and he could feel, inside of him... the fingers of D's other hand searching for
something. And when they found it, stroking ever so lightly against that
place inside of him, Leon felt his world fall apart. He moaned, raising
his hand to rub his thumb softly over the Count's cheek, the crushed flower
petals covering his fingers like blood. D smiled at him- a tight, eager
smile- and removed his fingers only to replace them with something else.
Leon bit back a groan as D's cock pressed against him, but as that long, hard
flesh eased into him his mouth fell open in a breathless moan. He shivered
at the sensation of fullness; it had been quite a long time since he'd been in
such a position. His back arced and he moaned again as he felt D settle inside of him,
the slender man leaning forward to kiss Leon's neck lightly as he moved,
thrusting against Leon.
D turned his head and slowly took each of Leon's fingers in his mouth, licking the rose blood from them tenderly, before kissing the hollow of his throat and letting his tongue trace its way up the side of Leon's neck until it reached his ear, tracing the outline of this shell just as tenderly. Leon swallowed; he was breathing hard. He felt down to his soul every thrust D made against him, every moan that escaped those deceptively tender lips, every touch of those cool fingers and every brush of those long nails against his flushed skin. He turned toward D, his lips brushing against the smooth skin of other man's cheek.

As he sought D's lips for a full kiss, Leon felt the tight warmth spreading
through him suddenly merge, channeling down into the warm, hard flesh D held
within his curled fingers. Leon felt his head snap back, his breath
catching in his throat only to burst forth in a moaning cry as his body stiffened. D smiled, his fingers tightening reflexively around Leon's cock as the detective arched into his touch with a final desperate thrust, his seed spilling over the Count's slender fingers.
D shivered, held tightly inside of Leon's body as he came; he cried out at the feeling,
his strength momentarily sapped as he also reached his climax. Shivering
still, D raised his hand to his mouth and slowly licked his fingers clean.
Seeing this, Leon moaned desperately. Breathing heavily, D lay down against Leon, the detective's heartbeat slowing under his ear
as they lay still. After a moment, D felt Leon raise a hand to gently stroke it through D's hair. He closed his eyes, not thinking, only smelling the flowers and Leon's scent, only tasting Leon, only feeling the hard muscle of the body beneath his.

The distant, soft sound of Damask whickering inquisitively made D raise his head. He could see the stallion near the entrance to the garden preventing the farmer from entering. Lowering his head D hid his face against Leon's chest as he smirked. "Come," he said softly. "I think we should be leaving. Mr. Blejan would like his garden back." He pushed himself up, pulled out of Leon, both of them groaning, found and pulled back on his clothes. He glanced sidelong at Leon to see how he was faring; the detective had managed to pull his pants back on and was looking at his shirt as if he couldn't remember what it was.

D went up to him and gently helped him to put the garment on. He leaned down and picked up Leon's coat from where it lay and handed it to the detective. Leon took it hesitantly. "D," he said softly, questioningly.

D placed his hand lightly on Leon's chest. "I am sorry if this was not something you wanted. But," his oddly colored eyes looked up through a screen of hair to capture Leon's, "I desired it. And perhaps next time you will not pursue me into secluded places, hmm?" He leaned close to Leon, the detective's breath catching, and smiled thinly, sadly, before he turned and made his way to the door of the garden.

Leon looked after him in shock for a minute before he gathered enough of his wits to follow. He came up behind D in time to catch the tail end of his conversation with the farmer.

"...I'm terribly sorry about this intrusion, but thank you again Mr. Blejan. This was an... exceptional experience."

Mr. Blejan smiled broadly, as if unable to contain his joy. "Oh, think nothing of it Miss! And do come again next year!"

D smiled in return, a truly happy smile that sent a stab of unexpected jealousy through Leon. "I believe I will." Damask snorted in agreement, and Leon glared at the horse.

The farmer gave Leon an odd look but made no comment, and Leon had the sudden thought that he probably looked terrible. A glance down at himself revealed red and green stains on his shirt, and he was sure he had pieces of leaves stuck in his hair. He glared at the farmer, as if daring him to comment, but the man had already moved away and was examining his beloved roses.

Shoving his hands in his pockets Leon walked around to the front of the house and found Count and horse standing near his car, apparently deep in conversation. Scowling, Leon walked up beside D. "It's only a couple miles to town and I can rent a trailer there," he said almost randomly, but D smiled at him, a smile like the one he'd given for the roses, and Leon felt warmth fill him.

"We will follow you into town then," D replied softly, and as Leon nodded and went to start his car he thought he heard D add, though not to him, "Yes you nosy creature, I did get what I wanted. We'll see if it's enough."

-o-o-o-o-

Pet catalog:
- Damask- There is a type of coloring in
  Arabian horses called a rose grey which is what Damask is supposed to be;
  it's kind of a reddish, dappled grey and is extremely rare. Arabian horses are a
  favorite with endurance riders primarily because the breed was originally
  bred for stamina, and for heart. Endurance races usually aren't much longer
  than 100 miles; the most famous endurance race though is probably the 3,000
  mile race depicted in the
  
  historically based movie Hidalgo which took over two months for
  the racers to complete.
- Roses- I don�t know a damn thing about roses;
  I think they're lovely, but when it comes to growing them I seem to have a
  black thumb. Apparently, they grow really well in Oregon. Damask roses are
  a real kind of rose, but they are not extinct and they do not take 50 years to bloom- I made that up.
-o-O-o-
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Define Arc

- "Damask" -

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"Damask"

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