Black Panther

Black Panther

Author: Moonstar

Genre: Modern-Fantasy, Slash

Rating: NC-17

Disclaimer: I claim rights to all the characters portrayed in my stories. If you want to use them for any purpose I’m happy to talk, but please don’t steal them.

Note: (Brief moment to say: Aff’s back! Whoot!) Aside from that, to anyone who has read my work before: Thank you for coming back! These characters should be familiar for the most part to my past readers.

To anyone new: Thank you for showing up! I hope you’ll take the time to read on and (hopefully) enjoy what I have to offer. Though this story does have characters who I’ve used before, this story is written purposefully to make it easy for new readers and is meant to stand alone.

To everyone: I can hardly believe the site’s finally back up and though I’ve been working for the past month on this…I’m still had to work up nerve to post. I hope it turns out ok and PLEASE leave me a comment. Other then that, read on! ^_~


Chapter One:
Old Ghosts

Black wings, dark whispers; he could feel the hands on him, the low voice flowing through him like a poisonous liquid, forcing his body to do its bidding. He tossed, but the feeling took him over like a trance and only a soft whimper escaped him, instantly muffled by the sheets. Just words, quick words, soft words, beautiful words…but they commanded him, twisting his reality and forcing his compliance. Stop, stop, stop…but they never did.

Shifting again against the damp sheets, Lan unconsciously gripped to them, dragging the cloth with him as he moved. Slowly but surely his movements tangled him, binging him tighter and tighter as the nightmares refused to cease. A slight sheen of sweat formed across his forehead and phantom words whispered through his unconscious mind.

Come back to me, kitten. You’re weak, useless. “No…” They’ll find you. They’ll hurt you. “Stop…” They’ll break you without my protection. “Jacques…” This world has no place for you. It hates you, everything you are. “N-no…” But I cared for you. “You hurt me…” I made sure no one touched you. “Stop…leave me alone…let me GO!”

Lan shot up in bed panting, tears in his eyes as his entire body shook helplessly in the sheets, sweat leaving him cold and exposed in the night air. Running his hands up his arms with a shiver, he caught his lower lip as his wide gold eyes flickered about the room, fear still evident in their depths.

He could feel the hands on him, the breathy words and smooth commands, the ones he couldn’t ignore. Shuddering again, he shoved back the covers, unwilling to go back to the frightening recesses of his mind and needing the comfort of fresh air. Dank, clammy smells filled his closed off apartment and he immediately headed for the only window, slamming it open almost viciously in a desperate attempt for air as he forced his trembling body back under his control.

At the first gust of fresh air on his face, he breathed a soft sigh of relief, letting his eyes flutter closed for a brief moment as he enjoyed the feel. Just as the last nips of winter faded from the air, summer’s dry, salty heat came to take its place. Never a spring or fall, just summer and winter, hot and cold. For an instant, his lips curled into an almost content smile and his eyes opened again to survey the empty streets below as his hair whipped lightly about his face in the mild wind.

The two stories from his window to the ground obscured his vision slightly, but he knew them to be completely deserted. Even as the barest, pink hints made their way ever so tentatively into the murky, yellowish darkness of night (the streetlights never allowing for complete darkness), he knew no one came out that early. In fact, at least in his neighborhood, the early, and even the later hours of morning often proved the most uninhabited portions of the day. His town lived off the glow of streetlamps and the foggy haze of liquor.

Frowning at the thought, he pressed the few loose gold strands from his face and stepped back from the window with a flickering glance to the clock. The dark made no difference to his eyes, but the clock’s hands had stopped again and he sighed. Not interested enough to worry the effort further, he ignored the time and fumbled through the dark for clothes, bringing a hand subconsciously to his wrist as he did so. Finding what he wanted, he slipped the small band off his hand and back into his hair, pulling the mid-length blonde locks back by routine as his eyes scanned over the dark closet before him. Jacques always told him to leave his hair down.

After passing over the main bulk of his closet, he eventually settled on a loose pair of khaki cargo pants and a white T. The cloth hung off his wiry figure like billowing sheets on a clothesline, but he didn’t mind; he wanted it that way. The less people saw of him, the better.

Without another thought on the matter, he slipped out of his apartment, down the full flight of steps and out onto the sidewalk. In times like these, he never got back to sleep, regardless of the early hour, and he found it pointless to try. Besides, there wasn’t a safer time to be on the streets, and the walks refreshed him.

For awhile, he simply ambled, walking without purpose and just passively absorbing the silent night air for all its worth. Slowly though, his strides gained a direction, leading him out farther than he usually went and following some instinctive path. Before he knew it, the tall, crowded buildings and apartments of his suburb diminished slightly to shorter, even older buildings, many boarded and abandoned. He knew the neighborhood though, and it sent shivers through him as he looked over the familiar colored messages and broken glass windows. If the amounts of spray-paint and dusty ‘closed’ signs on a block determined a building’s right to stand, the entire town would have been bulldozed ages ago. Then he came to it.

Creaking slightly as it wavered in the wind, the same painted, wooden sign he’d grown so accustomed to not that long ago hung just over his head, haunting him with its familiarity. ‘The ‘Black Rose’ looked as dead as ever, not even a hint of the foul deeds it promoted or dark sins it encouraged showing in the faded lettering, but he remembered. He remembered the bright lights behind closed doors, the closely compressed heated bodies, and he remembered the cold nights, dark and dressed in near nothing as a million painted faces waited behind their masks of flippant smiles and words for a stranger to fill their pockets and buy their souls. He also remembered vividly the night four years ago, mere days after Ashi’s death on that cold Christmas Eve, when he stood outside those very doors and told Toni he’d never come back. Ever.

~


Lan looked out of place behind a keyboard, his long golden locks and matching eyes giving off the aura of a fairy-tale character, not the desk assistant he now played, but as his long, dexterous fingers moved effortlessly across the board, no one could deny his ability to perform that job just as well. Usually, his half-time stay at the quiet office building went uninterrupted. He came in to find his assignments laid out, occasionally received them from a secretary or assistant, and completed all necessary work before leaving for his first class. Today, a thick voice startled him from his work and he nearly jumped at the sound of his name.

“Lan Ereesh?”

He blinked twice before answering by instinct. “Eiroish. Can I help you, sir?”

The man before him frowned slightly as he glanced over the paper in his hands, squinting behind dark glasses before giving a mild grunt. “I need to see you in my office. Quit whatever you’re doing.” Puzzled, Lan gave a brief glance to the screen before nodding curtly and saving several files as he closed them out. When he stood, grabbing a neat stack of papers as he did so, the other interrupted. “No need for you to bring anything.” Gold flickered his way once more before the blonde gave a second nod and set them back down. “Follow me.”

Lan preferred not to be noticed; the secluded, closed off cubicle gave him just that privilege. As he walked down the aisle, he towered over the man before him, his long, wiry figure giving him height if not weight, and nothing he did lessened the number of prying gazes that followed him. It made his skin crawl. By the time he made it to the man’s office, his legs near gave out under him before he was offered a chair, and it took all his will not to show the vivid shaking in his hands.

“Mr. Ereesh, now I suppose you’re wondering why you’re here…” Lan instantly thought of a principal or teacher, criticizing a misbehaving student. “I’ve come across some information in recent weeks that give me reason to wonder whether your participation in the actions of this company are to our benefit…” The man moved around as he spoke, shuffling papers, and glancing back repeatedly to the seated man as Lan remained decidedly silent, gold eyes merely observing, nothing else, as he kept his expression blank.

Lan considered asking what he’d done, which part of his careful work could have given the man reason for dissatisfaction, but instantly disowned the idea. Whatever the man wanted, it likely had nothing to do with his work ethic, and, for the sake of his job, he best just stay quiet and listen.

“Recently you’ve been showing up late…” Lie. He always arrived on time. Always. “…missing work records…” Another lie. Lan felt his gut twist slightly and folded his hands subconsciously. “…leaving forms incomplete …” His fingers curled, digging into his palms. Where was the man getting his information? “…turning in sloppy-“

“That’s not true.” It came out as a bare whisper, but the other stopped.

“What?”

Lan met his eyes for the first time throughout the ordeal. “It’s not true. I don’t know who you’re talking about, but it’s not me. I’ve done everything I was assigned to, and I do it on time. I’ve never been late, and none of my work is sloppy. Can I go back to my desk? I’m not finished and I have class this morning.”

In less than a second, the other’s entire expression changed, and Lan knew in that instant, that was what the man had wanted: an objection. “If you take one step towards that door, you won’t have a desk to go back to.” His glee was so evident, Lan had to swallow back the clench in his throat so as not to scream, and his whole body suddenly felt afire with rage. No matter what he did, he would never get his desk back, and he knew it; meeting the man’s gaze dead on he stood.

“If you wanted an excuse to fire me…you could have just said so. I’m very good at doing as I’m told.” Scorn and sarcasm dripped from his words, and for a brief moment the other paled slightly, as if the frail blonde might suddenly jump forward out of nowhere and attack him. After a moment Lan spoke quietly. “Who told you?”

Instantly, the man’s look subsided and he snorted, lowering his eyes to shuffle with some papers. “Our resources are anonymous. Please leave…and don’t come back.”

Lan bit his lip near to the point where it bled as he shut his eyes and cursed silently. “I never caused any trouble…I don’t even look like one of them.”

“False registration is a crime. You’re fired. Get out.”

“If I would have told you from the beginning I never would have gotten a job in the first place!” He sounded desperate and he knew it, but at that moment he didn’t care. Rent came hard enough as it was, loosing yet another job would make it near impossible.

“Do I need to get security in here?”

Lan spun from the room, nails digging into his fists as he went and a lump building painfully in his throat. You’re worthless, kitten. He slammed the door behind him and every eye in the room lifted. This world has no place for you. A hundred ignorant faces followed him out every step of the way. You’ll break without my protection…

By the time he stumbled out the office doors and onto the street, his mind had split in a million different directions, none of them on the path ahead. When he came in direct contact with a firm barrier, it felt only slightly less startling than hitting a brick wall and he stumbled backwards unprepared. Only the quick reflexes of his crash victim saved him from an uncomfortable tumble backwards onto the concrete, but he almost screeched as a solid grip caught his wrists.

“LET GO!” In less than a second, his surprise had morphed into full-fledged panic. He didn’t care how many people stared as long as he got out of the confining grip that bound him. Then, some instinct recognized his captor and the thrashing dulled slightly as his eyes narrowed, putting the man before him through a closer inspection. “Tray?”

“You hit me first, kitty. Shouldn’t ya be apologizing?” Yes. Definitely Tray. Same cocky attitude, same casual, amused tone, and same dark, toffee skin surrounded by his usual array of jet black locks. Lan glared and gave a last sudden tug back, breaking the other’s hold on his wrists instantly.

“Bastard.”

When the blonde turned his back to him immediately after the word without a glance backwards, Tray just stared for a period before getting hold of himself. “Lan! What’s the matter with you? I haven’t seen ya in ages…where’ve you been? Kitty, I was only kiddin’!” He pushed himself to walk up beside the other despite the crowded streets and growled in displeasure at the blonde’s continued refusal to acknowledge him. “Damn you, cat, listen to me! If-“

“I have nothing to say to you.”

Tray glared, keeping up with the other’s long strides almost effortlessly. “Yeah? Well ya could at least apologize-“

“I’m sorry.” The words came out short and cut, but Lan made no move to stop, and Tray frowned in puzzlement, confusion clouding his unnaturally green eyes as he assessed the tense blonde before him critically.

Finally, as Lan turned abruptly down an alley and into an empty lot, he followed after, questioning in puzzlement. “Did I do somethin’?” Again Lan ignored him. He grumbled as the other began searching for keys beside the only car in the lot. “At least tell me what the hell’s happened to ya? What’s it been…four years?” Tray shoved his hands in his pockets as he asked the question, keeping his eyes on the other and leaning up against the car door. “Say somethin’ at least…”

Gold flickered up to meet him and Lan shook his head. “I already apologized for running into you. Will you just go?” He moved over and struggled with the keys for a few seconds, cursing as the keys took three tries to fit and then wouldn’t turn. When he looked up, Tray was still watching him.

“Need a hand?”

Lan glared. “Leave.”

When Tray shifted and stood up, Lan thought he might actually do as requested; then he was behind him. Tray’s chest pressed against his back like a wall, formidable and unmoving, trapping him to the car. Heat ran up his spine and his vision blurred. He couldn’t see and panic swamped him. When Tray reached out to grasp the keys still in his hand, his entire body recoiled like a snake, and the next instant he was tripping over his own feet to get away.

“What the hell?”

He barely heard Tray’s objection as he near fell against the side of the car, pounding heartbeats filling his ears and terror shooting through him as his hands trembled to get a hold of something stable.

“What the fuck’s wrong with you?” The disturbed tone hurt more than anything else. Tray hated him again. After all this time, just a few moments and he’d already made the panther hate him again. Lan kept his eyes locked firmly on the ground as they stung, forcing himself to count silently. One, two…

“Are you alright?” Startled by the change, Lan blinked. ‘Alright?’ His shut his eyes again. No. Focus on breathing. Three, four…

“Lan…?” By the time he swallowed up enough incentive to look up again, he met instantly with green, but Tray’s actual expression startled him.

He didn’t look mocking, or even angry. Lan almost labeled the look ‘concerned’, but pushed the thought away. Tray never cared a whit about him before, why now? He lowered his gaze back to the ground, shivering and rubbing his arms despite the thick heat of summer. Tray bent to pick up the fallen keys. Carefully, Lan took them back when offered, though making sure to avoid any actual contact as he did so.

After another few seconds, as the blonde failed to do anything but fiddle with the keys in his hands and avoid eye contact, Tray spoke up. “I’m sorry…” Gold flickered up. “…for whatever I did. You know I…” He frowned and shoved his hands in his pockets again. “I didn’t mean to scare you or anything…I just…” He looked up thoughtfully, considering his words before finishing. “I really am happy to see you again…”

For a while, Lan just watched him, silent and not certain what to say. Eventually, Tray turned away, but unbeknownst to him, Lan’s gaze followed him the entire way out. By the time the swell of crowds absorbed him in their numbers, Lan’s heart was fluttering for all different reasons, and as he finally managed to open his car, he got in cursing his sensitivity and foolishness the whole while.

All this time of forgetting him, forgetting everyone, and one look at the damn feline put him back exactly where he stood four years ago: head over heels for the same egotistical maniac and no closer to getting a hold on reality. Then again, even if Tray did harbor feelings for him, how could he ever explain? Would the man ever understand? No. Lan wasn’t normal and he knew it.

He watched people kiss and hold hands in the streets, talk and laugh and smile, but he could never do that. Even if Tray forgave him for running away, forgave him for hiding for so long, and somehow accepted him into his life again, they could never have anything together, because Lan couldn’t get close. He couldn’t kiss and he couldn’t laugh. He couldn’t hold hands, because even the slightest contact terrified him. How could Tray ever feel anything for him…if he couldn’t touch him?

Footnote: Wow. My second big story and I’ve finally got the first chapter up and posted. I guess I was being naïve to hope I wouldn’t be this nervous the second time around right? Oh well. Tell me what you think! Comments, criticism, I can take it! PLEASE REVIEW! (Familiar?)

(Oh, and for anyone who noticed…I did at the end of my last story mention a science fiction I had planned on writing…that may or may not get written, but if so, it’ll be sometime in the far future most likely. Lan demanded his story get published and as soon as I got started with this…the thing wrote itself. Hope no one minds!)