Indiscretion

A/N: It's been a while. Don't expect things here to make sense for a while. Still working on Carpe Diem, as well. No idea when the next chapter of either will be out. Also, thanks to Young Sage for the review.

The Dragon: Enters

Warm, gentle morning sunlight brushed against his skin till his waking. Its warmth spread through his body, through his veins and his arteries, until at last it reached that utopia of thought, his mind. His eyes, though, protested. They beat violently against his head in a blinding rhythm that screamed that the outside was too bright. They would rather stay closed. Aiden did not listen to them. He tried, instead, to remember where he was. Who he was with. He knew he was with someone; the body pressed tightly against his own gave it away. But the mysteries of the previous night eluded his still clouded mind. When he opened his eyes, saw the boy held in his arms, he remembered. He wondered why it had taken him so long to remember it.

He sat up. Never in his life had he more desired a cigarette. That's when he noticed it.

Though he hadn't exactly payed any attention to the layout of the room, he thought it looked different from the night before. It wasn't anything tangible, anything he could label and say “That's different,” but still it bugged him. He knew something was wrong. He stood up, put on his pants. Reached over to his jacket and pulled out an empty pack of cigarettes. He played with it in his hands to relieve his tension. He wasn't sure whether he ought to wake the boy. He looked peaceful—so much more so than when he had gone to sleep. Hair falling haphazardly into disarray. Gentle yet constant breathing.

He reached over and nudged the boy's shoulder. Nothing happened.

Again. Nothing.

Again—result: a stirring; slight yet noticeable signs of waking.

Green eyes opened slowly unto the world, adjusted their delicate lenses to the uncomfortable morning sunlight filling the room in streaks of wakefulness and warmth. A cool warmth not unlike a mother's touch.

“Hey, kid—Lucien—you need wake up.”

“I'm up,” he said grumpily in reply. “I'm up.”

“No, you're still in bed. Now sit up.”

Lucien complied.

---

(Outside not a thing stirs noticeably to his—or their—perception. The clouds, up and far away, cast faint shadows sparingly across the ground below. Cars are lined against the street in the usual fashion. Not a thing out of place, but a feeling of abnormalcy pervades. Aiden takes a seat on the sofa and motions for Lucien to do the same. The boy dresses first.)

Lucien:
I guess maybe I owe you an explanation, yeah? I'm only in the city for a few days. I thought it would be cool to have some fun, you know? I'm from a small town, nothing at all to do, especially for people like me. Everyone's all homophobic and everything. . . only my grandma knows I'm gay, and I can't imagine telling anyone else. But I'm a musician, right? I play the cello. And my parents paid for me to go to this music thing in the city, a series of concerts and classes for musicians. So, I. . . I wanted to do something I couldn't do at home. Finally let loose. You see, my dad works at the DMV, one of the higher ups. I snuck in at night a week or so ago and made an ID that said I was twenty-one so I could get in the clubs, but I promised myself I wouldn't actually drink anything. No one would be able to tell it was fake. When I got here the other day I noticed there was a club right next to my hotel. It took me a bit to work up the courage to actually go in, but last night I did. . . and you already know the rest.

Aiden:
That I do.

(A formless shadow flows from the window into the room and casts the two in a brief darkness. Neither notices it at first, but the shadow persists.)

Aiden:
So. . . you're trying to tell me that you seduced me?

Lucien:
Pretty much, yeah.

(From below: a crashing, loud and effulgent. The disturbance draws both of their attentions form the present conversation to the window and the shadow there lurking. A beast, hideously beautiful in its apparent viciousness, beats its wings steadily up and down. Bathed in crimson shades of blood and death and suffering the angelic demon waits menacingly at their window. In its hand: a severed head, blood dripping still from the fresh wound. It smiles—the head smiles at them. The same tooth-filled grin of the demon reflected.

Their reaction is delayed, perhaps from the shock of it all. Aiden stands up, then sits back down, then stands back up again. He looks tentatively towards the door. Then the boy. 'At least he's wearing clothes now,' he thinks. The boy shrinks up into himself, refusing to acknowledge the sight before him.

The creature beats its wings solemnly thrice. A puff of flame and it's off into the distant clouds, blood-stained robes billowing with the wind. It drops the head onto the street below. When it impacts, it explodes in a flurry of gore and smoke.)

Aiden:
What. . . what was that?
What the hell was that?
Was that a head? A human head?
What the hell is going on?

(Lucien says nothing. Stares out the window, gaze following the creature.

A flutter of wings from below.

They both decide to stand and venture a look out the window. A blur passes beneath along the streets in a winged hurry. It reaches the end of the block before rising higher into the air in an arc. Somersaulting backwards in midair to reverse direction. A dragon. A mighty beast. Its head crowned in thorns scours for prey. In its mouth it chews a half-dead body with one leg dangling by a tendon. It sees them and swallows the body in a single gulp. It rushes towards them and before they even have time to register it they're running for the door and through the hallway to the stairs.

A trail of flame follows them.

The shut metal door behind them glows red from the heat as they rush down the stairs.)

Aiden:
What. . . what does it want?
Us?
To eat us?

(Lucien remains silent. They run down the stairs two, three at a time. To the basement far away and below in the depths of the earth away from these devils.)

Aiden:
The hell is going on here?

(The cellar door, bastion of safety, rests before their eyes, their grasps. It opens and shuts with the creaky sound of ungreased hinges.)

---

They slouched against the far wall after barricading as best they could against any intrusion. There seemed to be no one else. Their breath escaped in gasps clutched heavily in their chests and forced through concrete. Aiden noticed he was still only wearing his pants. Any thought of ever doing anything had left his thoughts completely. His goal was to keep breathing for as long as he could. But what was that? What was going on? Was that a dragon? A dragon? A fire-breathing denizen of lore and myth? He was going to die; he knew it plain as day. His life was over and there—

---

(A flash of light, brilliant in its purity, swallows them whole.)