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A Paler Shade of Green	By : Rina76 Category: Angel the Series > Slash - Male/Male Views: 3532 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Angel fandom or any of the characters from the show. I am not making money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 10
- 11
- 12
Kylar is laying face-down on the bed with his eyes closed and head turned, cheek resting on the pillow. He feels gentle fingers slipping through his hair, moving it aside, and then warm lips press against the back of his neck. A caressing hand is sliding over his pyjama-covered body - from his lower back, down over his bottom and then back up again, making the young Empath tingle.
“Mm, Lorne. That’s nice,” he sighs sleepily without opening his eyes. There’s a gust of warm breath in his ear as he receives a reply.
“It’s not Lorne.”
Lashes flying open, Kylar whirls around to find the Ho’kio twins kneeling beside him on the floor, their black-diamond eyes glittering in the dark, their faces as smooth as china masks within the veils of their long ebony hair, deathly-pallid complexions only marred by the three smoky bullet-hole birthmarks on their foreheads. Kylar is being touched by the pretty one.
“What are you doing here?” he blurts in confusion, scrambling backwards. “You shouldn’t be in my room!”
“But we are.” The slimmer demon smiles, showing small pointed fangs. “And we’re not leaving until we get what we came for.”
“What is that?” The green-skinned teen glances between the two brothers with alarmed crimson eyes as they crawl onto the mattress with him. “What do you want from me?”
“The same thing you want.”
“The same thing we ALL want,” the bigger twin echoes in a deeper tone, placing his strong white hand onto Kylar’s thigh, making him jerk.
“Do not touch me,” Kylar whispers in both dread and anticipation.
“Why not? Aren’t you having fun?”
The pretty one seconds with a pout, “Don’t you want to play with us?”
“I…I don’t – I cannot,” the boy stammers, flushing at his own body’s betraying response to those silken voices, promising pleasures far beyond anything he’s ever experienced before.
“We know you’ve felt our mystical allure. We know you can smell our musk.” A slender palm strokes down Kylar’s suddenly-tightened belly. “Don’t say you haven’t sensed it, little spawn.”
“Don’t say that we aren’t attractive to you,” the more masculine Ho’kio finishes.
Kylar swallows, realising with great shame that he does indeed feel desire for these seductively perfumed creatures. “But Lorne…”
“Has already played with us. Now it’s your turn.”
Leaning in together, the leather-clad twins share a sensual kiss with playfully meeting tongues (Kylar catching the silver flash of a piercing) and then they turn back to the younger demon, both of them reaching for his cotton pyjama top and lifting it up, revealing Kylar’s naked torso and admiring it with sparkling obsidian eyes.
“Beautiful.”
“Yes, he is.”
“We’re going to enjoy playing with him.”
“We certainly will.”
The pointy-eared brothers touch him, running their hands over Kylar’s bare belly and then up his sides, over his chest, their pale fingers cool against the heat of his olive skin. Kylar shivers, a sharp black nail tracing around his hardened nipples. The feminine-featured twin goes down further, slipping a hand into the front of Kylar’s pants and making a pleased purr.
“So hard already.”
His face burning, Kylar tries to close his thighs.
“No,” the larger demon chides, holding Kylar’s legs still. “Don’t hide how you feel. We want to know how much we excite you.”
The girlish twin retrieves his hand, breathing in Kylar’s scent and then licking those long-nailed fingers with a delicate tongue-tip. “Mmm. You’re even sweeter than you smell. Here, brother. Taste how sweet the little spawn is.”
The first Ho’kio holds out a hand out to the other, the broader male also tasting Kylar’s aroused secretions and giving a rumble of approval.
“Delicious, indeed.”
They both climb closer to Kylar, smiling their evilly fanged grins, jet-black hair brushing over his skin like moth-wings in the night. Two pairs of eager hands tug off Kylar’s pyjama top while the youth watches numbly, trying to comprehend if he’s awake or if this some kind of erotic dream because right now it’s very difficult to tell. It certainly feels real, though, ten pointed nails grazing down his nude arms, softly scratching his flesh and causing goose pimples to rise from wrist to navel.
Sensing a presence, Kylar looks up to notice Lorne in the doorway. For a moment the timid teenager thinks his jealous guardian is going to explode and start hurling the furniture around the room but he doesn’t. He silently stands there, the older Empath lighting up a cigarette, just watching the scene with glowing red eyes.
Though they must be able to sense him too, the uninvited Ho’kio demons carry on as if Lorne isn’t even there.
Still bewildered by Lorne’s passive permission, Kylar jolts as his woven pyjama bottoms are ripped off with one quick yank, leaving him completely naked. He blushes at the sight of his own erect organ, speckled green along the shaft and rosy-red at the tip, lying full and flushed on his own belly. The prettier Ho’kio separates Kylar’s thighs and settles between them on the bed, stomach-down. He licks a pair of inky lips with a snake-like flicker and begins to lower his head.
“No! Stop it,” Kylar cries in sudden panic, trying to wriggle away up the bed but the more muscled twin holds him immobile by the shoulders, the other one grasping Kylar’s hips in both hands and pulling him back down. They are so powerful. Being held captive by two sexually-aggressive males is both extremely exciting and frightening to Kylar. With a strange demon’s face between his legs, looking at all his private areas, the inexperienced teen feels utterly vulnerable and exposed and it scares him. Unable to move, he desperately looks to Lorne with scared ruby eyes, telepathically begging to be rescued but the older Pylean doesn’t do a thing to help Kylar get away. In fact, Lorne just nods permissively, encouraging the other demons to continue their ravishment, letting them take advantage of Kylar’s helpless, spread-eagled figure.
“Don’t…Please,” Kylar begs, starting to shake with terror as his thighs are pushed wider apart, leaving no part of him hidden.
“You have nothing to fear, little spawn. I just want to taste you,” the effeminate twin murmurs as he lowers his eyelashes and dips his raven head, a twelve-inch black tongue emerging from his mouth like a glistening serpent. Kylar thrashes in fright but the bulkier brother presses Kylar down harder into the mattress, stopping him from moving. All tensed up, Kylar breathes in fast, jerking as he feels that slick tongue licking slowly along the cleft of his buttocks. The boy’s body jerks again as he receives another slow hot lick, then another and another. He can feel the twin’s tongue-stud sliding and bumping over his personal entrance.
Like a probing alien tentacle, that wet appendage twists and squirms its way into Kylar’s tiny opening, beginning to shallowly glide in and out with short motions. It doesn’t hurt but the wetly jabbing sensation is nearly too much for that sensitive part of his body to handle. Gasping at the almost unbearable shocks of pleasure flashing through his stomach, Kylar puts his hand on the Ho’kio’s head, trying to push him aside but the dark-haired seducer simply reaches up with elegant fingers and moves Kylar’s wrist down, continuing to tease the trapped eighteen year old youth in this ultra-intimate manner.
“Do you like that the Host is here, Kylar?” The bigger brother asks lowly, glancing towards Lorne in the doorway. “Do you like us holding you down and tasting your sweet hole while he watches? Does that turn you on?”
Actually, it does. Knowing that Lorne is closely observing his defilement only increases Kylar’s humiliated excitement. He shudders on the bed, close to losing his composure – or what little he has left of it. Desperate need overtaking any fear he might have felt about this whole situation, Kylar pushes harder against the twin’s teasing mouth, openly moaning now. The girl-faced Ho’kio glances up with glittery, gratified eyes, watching Kylar’s face tense as he approaches orgasm. With a few expert flicks of his tongue-ring, the seductive demon has Kylar crying out in release, the kid’s narrow hips bucking as creamy fluid ejects onto his own belly.
With a ragged gasp, Kylar wakes up. For a moment he’s completely bewildered and disoriented but soon his senses realign.
He’s alone in his darkened bedroom. His heart is pounding and his pyjamas are soaked again. A disconcerting feeling of relief and disappointment floods through him as he realises what’s just happened. Another dream. This is the fourth time in a row. There have been many more lately, but they don’t always culminate in him attaining sexual climax. Sometimes he awakens early with an aching hardness between his legs and a fire in his blood that won’t go out until he takes a cold shower. Wincing at the stickiness in his pants, he knows he will have to take a shower anyway, just to clean up. It might feel good when it’s happening but it’s so messy afterward. With a mixture of uncertainty and embarrassment, he wonders if this intense dreaming experience is normal for adolescent boys on this dimension or if there’s something seriously wrong with him.
He could ask Lorne as he’s older and possesses unsurpassed knowledge of this world but since most of the dreams involve him in some form or the other (most often doing wicked things to Kylar’s naked body or watching as other people do it), the young Empath is too ashamed to speak to his custodian about these surreal nocturnal incidents or discuss what might be the cause of them.
He’ll just have to ask his other source of Earthly information - Connor.
Sighing, Kylar rolls out of bed and heads to the bathroom.
………
Over the next couple of weeks, Lorne is still kicking his own ass. Even though Kylar graciously forgave him for what he did with the twins in his dressing room, the tri-sexual demon still feels as crappy and guilty as ever for doing it in the first place. He knows he hurt Kylar badly. He knows it was wrong. And he knows it will take a while for their relationship to get back to where it was, so he gives the eighteen year old youth some space. Back in the club, Lorne had threatened to ground Kylar for sneaking out of the hotel but in light of recent events, that is all forgotten and Lorne gives his foster-son complete freedom to come and go as he pleases. Lorne still watches out for him, makes sure the boy doesn’t train too hard and that he eats properly and gets enough sleep but the older male tries not to crowd Kylar or over-protect him. As Kylar pointed out, he is not a child. He’s growing into a very strong, independent young man who makes his own choices and decisions, one who is fully prepared to accept the consequences of his actions and learn from them. The vampire bite on his neck heals without a problem, leaving two white marks that Kylar is actually proud of, calling them his first ‘battle scars’.
When everyone hears the full story of what happened from Connor, how Kylar dusted the female vamp-leader in one strike, they are all suitably impressed. Staking a vampire’s heart from the back is an incredibly difficult move to pull off yet Kylar did it. Gunn congratulates him on his first kill and, lightly punching him in the shoulder, proclaims Kylar to be part of the gang now, which pleases the olive-skinned teen immensely. As discussed, there is a small party to celebrate and everyone has few glasses of vodka-tainted punch, except for Connor, because alcohol affects him far too quickly and bad things can happen when he’s drunk and out of control.
The boy-slayer is thankful that Kylar still wishes to be friends with him and is amazed when he finds out that the softly-spoken demon wants to continue staking vampires, despite what happened on his first attempt. Rather than be scared off by the attack, Kylar is empowered by it, knowing that if he can survive that, he can survive anything and so he regularly joins his best friend in nightly hunts to destroy more of the ugly yellow-eyed creatures and their blood-drinking ways. For once in his life, Kylar actually WANTS to be a warrior. Fighting against evil has given the peaceful youth a new purpose and a new sense of pride in his growing strength and masculinity. If his family could see him now, slaying vampires like a seasoned champion, they wouldn’t be able to believe it.
Though Lorne worries himself silly whenever the two teens go out hunting, he just has to trust that they know what they’re doing, particularly Kylar. By killing the vampire that bit him, the pretty Pylean has proved that he is capable of defending himself like a man and after that terrifying incident, he makes certain it doesn’t happen again. The blindfolded sensory training he’s doing with Connor pays off tremendously and Kylar is able to detect the undead predators in pitch-black darkness, even without breath or heartbeats to pinpoint their location. Once Kylar senses the empty hole where their souls should be, he goes in for the kill, using stealth, light-footed agility and speed, staking the vampires in the chest before they even get close enough to smell him, let alone try to take a bite.
But still, Lorne’s worry never stops until the two boys come back into the hotel lobby brushing ash off their clothes, euphoric and jubilant about another successful night’s hunt. Kylar is becoming quite the little huntsman. It makes Lorne proud to see the kid maturing so much, so quickly, but at the same time it makes him sad that Kylar’s lost some of his innocence. It reminds Lorne that people change, time does fly and that he should cherish the days that he has with Kylar under his guardianship, before the teenager gets too old and outgrows him. Soon, Kylar won’t need him anymore and that’s the saddest thought Lorne can think of.
Shortly after he gets up one day, about mid-afternoon by then, Lorne makes a few phone calls to his buddies in entertainment, securing private box seats to that night’s showing of Phantom of the Opera. He’s already seen it like, a hundred and fifty times but Kylar hasn’t and he wants to initiate the kid into the brilliant world of musical theatre. Kylar still loves music; at least that much hasn’t changed.
He goes to Kylar’s room and knocks on the door, mindful of the fact that he can’t just waltz on in or he might accidentally catch the kid undressing or doing something else private that Kylar wouldn’t want him to see. Lorne’s not sure if Kylar actually knows how to masturbate but he is a teenage boy like Connor so it’s better to be safe than sorry.
Kylar masturbating. Oh great. That’s exactly what Lorne didn’t want to think about and yet here he is doing it, picturing the trim-hipped youth lying nude on his bed touching himself, Kylar biting his pierced lip in quiet enjoyment as slim fingers stroke and caress his own hardened flesh…
Shit, Lorne feels like a dirty old paedophile.
The door swings open, jarring him out of his shameful fantasy. Lorne deliberately blocks his mind so Kylar can’t read it, or sense his emotions. The younger Pylean is thankfully fully dressed, wearing acid-washed blue jeans and a multicoloured tie-dyed shirt, wooden bracelets around his wrists and shells strung about his neck. He looks like a hippie from Woodstock. His long berry-coloured hair is still damp and extra wavy from his post-training shower. There’s an open book about the lives of sea creatures on his neatly-made bed.
Definitely no masturbating.
“Kylar!” Lorne gives him a broad greeting grin. “How are you, my little ninja turtle? Did you have a good day?”
“I did, thank you! I am enjoying my lessons very much,” Kylar enthuses. “Today I learned ten new words from my tutor, including ‘obsequious’ and ‘effulgence’. And I just read in this book that dolphins mainly hear sounds through their lower jaw bone! Isn’t that incredible?”
“I should take you to Sea World,” Lorne suggests. “You can actually pet a dolphin there if you want.”
“Oh, could I? That would be simply wonderful!” Kylar’s eyes are bright with eagerness. “And earlier during training Angel showed me how to disable a much bigger attacker just by twisting their elbow a certain way.”
“You learned a lot today, huh?”
“Yes, I have. I wish I had known all this back on Pylea,” the kid says thoughtfully. “Perhaps then I never would have become a slave.”
“Well, you’re not one anymore and you never will be one again,” Lorne reminds him. “You’re free as a bluebird and you can do whatever you want with your life. It’s yours now.”
“You are correct,” Kylar affirms with resolute self-pride. “If anybody tries to put me in chains again, I will break their arm in three different places.”
One of Lorne’s smooth brows shoots up in surprise. He probably shouldn’t be thinking this but Kylar’s recent kick-ass attitude is sort of…hot.
“If anyone tries to capture me,” Kylar continues in that same attitude, “I will fuck them up big-time.”
“Kylarkmar!” Lorne gasps. “Where did you hear that word? Did Connor teach you that?”
“What word?” Kylar blinks at him unknowingly.
“You know - the ‘f’ word.”
“Do you mean, ‘fuck’? Is that the one? Fuck?”
“Stop saying that!” Lorne’s face is horrified at the kid’s casual cursing.
“But why? It appears to be a very commonly used phrase on this dimension and has a lot of varied meanings. Connor says it. Gunn says it. I’ve even heard YOU say it,” Kylar points out.
“Yeah but…you’re different. You’re too nice to swear like that. It doesn’t sound good on you.”
The boy stares at Lorne in puzzlement. “You don’t like it?”
“No,” Lorne admits. “I don’t.”
Seeing that vulgar word come out of such a sweet, pretty mouth is wrong.
After a short, pondering silence, Kylar replies, “Then I will not say it anymore. Are there any other words you do not wish for me to utter?”
“Anything you hear in an R-rated movie,” Lorne stipulates, knowing that he is the figure of authority here so he has to right to make some rules for Kylar to follow. “I don’t mind if you watch them, because they’re a great way for you to learn about this world, just please don’t repeat the coarse language you hear in front of me.”
Kylar nods readily. “Agreed. No coarse language.”
Lorne knows he’s getting away with this whole parenting thing easy. After the club confrontation, Kylar has been remarkably cooperative and seems more than willing to do whatever Lorne requests, without arguing or back-chatting. If this was a conversation Angel was having with Connor, there’d be shouting and shoving and thrown punches by now. Kylar is a considerate young man with a lot of respect for others and Lorne feels very lucky to be the guardian of such a well-mannered teenager.
Just then, Fredelia emerges from Kylar’s hair, where she has been hiding this whole time. The baby bat is clinging onto it upside down, peeking out through reddish-purple strands to squint at Lorne suspiciously, sniffing the air and detecting the fruity cocktail that the older demon is holding.
“She’s grown,” Lorne remarks.
“Yes, she has. She’s still a little wary of strange people.” Kylar turns to speak to his pet. “This is Lorne. You know him. He won’t hurt you.”
The bat makes a soft chattering sound. Indicating to a split strawberry on the rim of Lorne’s glass, Kylar says, “She would like that. She likes the way it smells. You can feed it to her, if you wish. She would trust you more then.”
“Well…okay,” Lorne reluctantly replies, not liking the idea of sharing his cocktail garnish with a bat but keeping Kylar happy is more important so he takes the strawberry and hesitantly holds it towards Kylar’s pet, hoping the furry flower-eater won’t bite his fingers. He’d have to get a rabies shot if that happened. The pointy-eared creature pokes out her head, cautiously sniffs Lorne’s hand with a flat, pug-nose, snatches the red fruit between sharp front teeth and then burrows further into Kylar’s hair to eat it.
“You’re welcome,” Lorne dryly comments, wiping his hand on his trousers.
Kylar awards him a smile. “Thank you. She is satisfied now.”
“She better be. Because the rest of this is all mine,” Lorne warns and takes a mouthful of his drink, needing it for courage. If he’s going to ask Kylar out on an apology-date, he needs all the help he can get.
“So, ah…” The older demon clears his throat before continuing. “I know you have a full schedule and all but I feel like I’ve kinda been neglecting you lately. Have I been neglecting you, pumpkin-pie?”
At Lorne’s worried expression, Kylar assures, “No, of course not. You are here watching me train every day. You make sure I eat and rest and take my vitamins. I would hardly call that neglect.”
Dropping his eyes, Kylar pushes one of his bracelets up his arm, revealing white cuff-marks on his wrist, softly rubbing the scarred tissue. “Believe me, Lorne. I know what true neglect is and you have never done that to me.”
Lorne’s stomach knots up every time he sees any of the boy’s slavery scars. They make him feel queasy. Looking away from the painful marks on Kylar’s wrists, he changes the subject.
“Does it bother you when I sit and watch you training? I’d join in but getting my lazy green butt kicked by everyone else isn’t something I particularly call fun. Hell, I bet even YOU could kick my butt by now.” Lorne glances at Kylar’s stronger, more developed arms, reaching out to squeeze the boy’s biceps in admiration.
“Look at those solid little muscles!”
Kylar blushes, relishing Lorne’s attention. “I do not mind if you watch me. I used to watch you back on Pylea, when you sang in the fields. What was it you called me – a stalker?”
“I take that back. You’re not a stalker. And I’m not stalking you either – I’m just making sure you don’t train too hard,” Lorne hurriedly amends, not wanting the kid to think he’s some leering pervert with nothing better to do than ogle sweaty young boys. He’s just…supervising. Yeah.
Kylar looks up at Lorne, quietly repeating, “I do not mind if you watch. Your presence strengthens and encourages me. But even though you are here, I must admit we do not talk like this very often.”
Despite seeing Lorne in the hotel every day and most nights when the singing demon comes back from his club, Kylar has still been occupied doing other things, like learning various new techniques of self-defence, reading, studying, playing with his bat and hanging out with Connor, and as such Kylar has not been able to converse with his effervescent guardian as much as he’d like and has regretted not sharing more personal, private time with him.
“I’ve missed you, Lorne,” Kylar confesses in a husky whisper.
Lorne is ridiculously, absurdly overjoyed to hear that.
“Aw, I’ve missed you too, honeykins.” His heart aching, Lorne cups the boy’s cheek, stroking velvety youthful skin with his thumb. “Let me make it up to you. I’m not working tonight so how would you like to go see a show with me?”
“A show?”
“You know, a play, in a theatre, with people acting out scenes? Like a movie, only live. They still do those on Pylea, don’t they?”
“Oh. Yes. I have borne witness to a few of those…performances.” Kylar remembers crude stages set up in town squares where tribute was paid to warriors and their magnificent skills in fighting, slaughtering and dismembering, overly-enthusiastic actors recounting the latest fierce battle or hunting expedition for the rest of the village, complete with weapons and buckets of real blood for effect.
Frowning, Kylar concludes, “I never liked them. They were too boastful and violent and there was too much gore.”
“Well, this show is nothing like that. No gore,” Lorne promises him. “It’s theatrical, electrifying and romantic, just like a chick-flick. Only better. And it has fantabulous costumes and music and songs - that’s why it’s called a musical. It’ll be a huge night; all kinds of celebrities and starlets will be there and I got us the best seats in the house on our own private little balcony! Just you and me and all the champagne we can drink. You’ll love it, trust me.”
Lorne is talking quite rapidly and enthusiastically and Kylar doesn’t understand some of the words he hears but the mention of music instantly gains his interest. As does the idea of being alone with Lorne.
“I would like to go to the musical show with you, Krevlornswath. I would like that very much.”
“Super! It’s a date,” Lorne enthuses, already excited and heading to his closet to select a suit. “Be ready at six, okay? And wear one of your dressier outfits. You know, something snazzy.”
Staring after him, Kylar wants to ask what ‘snazzy’ actually means but Lorne has already disappeared into his own chambers to change. Kylar’s never been anywhere that required him to clothe in a certain manner but by the tone of Lorne’s voice it seems that this event is rather significant. What should he wear? What is suitable for an important evening such as this? Apart from Lorne, Kylar only knows one other person in the hotel who is an expert in clothing.
“Cordelia,” he calls out in dismay, rushing towards her room. “I need assistance!”
By six o’clock, Kylar is prepared. He is wearing a fitted black suit that shows off his trim young male figure. Under that is a black collared shirt with a metallic maroon diamond pattern all over it. Cordelia (who, incidentally, is still touched that half a baby bat was named after her) chose this one for him and she picked well because it highlights the intense colour of Kylar’s crimson eyes, burgundy mouth and mahogany horns. His skin is a clear pale green, the freckled design sprinkled around the edges of his face and curving under his cheekbones, highlighting the model-like angularity of them. His hair has been combed back off his horned forehead, the mulberry strands gathered into a long, sleek ponytail at the nape of his neck, the full extent of his remarkable beauty revealed for all to see.
It’s such a massive contrast to the day he first arrived in LA, when he was in a dirty, ragged robe and was hiding behind his tangled hair, believing himself to be unattractive and unfit for public viewing. Now, he’s not ashamed about the face he was once mocked for, proudly showing off his feminine features because they are his and in this world they are beautiful. Pretty. That’s what Lorne told him. And Fred, and Cordelia and even Connor. Gunn, Angel and Wesley haven’t said it out loud but Kylar can sense that they secretly think the same as well and all this flattery and admiration makes Kylar feel pleasantly flushed.
In the hopes of once again hearing it from Lorne’s lips, Kylar knocks on the older demon’s door, letting Lorne know that he’s ready.
“Coming,” Lorne sings out from inside his room, continuing to hum as he puts the finishes touches onto his outfit. He’s been singing to himself for the last hour, something Kylar could hear all the way from his room and has been delighted to listen to. He could never get tired of hearing Lorne’s voice. It is melodic and harmonious and brings him many pleasant feelings.
As he waits for his humming date to arrive, Kylar nervously adjusts his maroon tie. He’s not used to wearing something that looks and feels like an expensive noose around his neck but Cordy assured him that it was proper formal attire and that he looks fantastic so he trusts her judgement.
Soon, Lorne opens his door, the tall Pylean resplendent in a candy-apple red suit over a deep purple silk shirt and matching cravat. A red gangster hat with a purple band and feather completes the suave outfit.
Purple and red. Kylar’s favourite colours.
“Good evening, Lorne. I greatly admire your suit,” he says with sincere shyness. “Are my garments appropriate for tonight’s activity?”
There’s a silence and Lorne realises he has been staring at the boy. Closing his mouth and swallowing, the older male manages to reply, “Appropriate. Yes.”
Still concerned about his dark clothing next to Lorne’s colourful splendour, Kylar presses, “I look okay?”
Letting out a long breath at the pony-tailed vision of elegance before him, Lorne repeats dumbly, “Okay. Sure.”
Kylar smiles slightly at the praise, sensing more value in Lorne’s simple words. “Only okay?”
Lorne comes back to his senses, realising what Kylar is asking. Arching his hairless brow, Lorne quips, “Well, well. Listen to you. Who’s been feeding your hungry little ego, huh?”
Kylar ducks his head, beginning to flush. “I…I did not mean to sound so arrogant. Forgive me.”
Not wanting to crush the kid’s newfound confidence, Lorne places his fingertips under Kylar’s chin, tipping his face back up. “Don’t be silly. Of course you look more than okay. You’re absolutely stunning. You always are, but especially tonight.”
A pleased smile touches the teen’s lips. “Thank you. Cordelia helped me with the outfit. She also showed me how to use a ‘hair iron’. It makes my hair straight. Do you like it?”
Kylar’s slender fingers nervously play with his straightened locks. As much as Lorne loves the natural berry-coloured waves that Kylar normally has tumbling around his shoulders, this new sleeker look gives the boy an added touch of elegance that just about takes Lorne’s breath away.
“I love it. It makes you look super-glamorous.”
Kylar’s heart swells happily at all the compliments. “You look very glamorous too, Krevlornswath. I believe another suitable English word would be…dashing?”
A flattered grin spreads across Lorne’s face. Apparently his ego is much bigger than Kylar’s.
“Thanks, sugar.” He winks, tips his hat at Kylar and then cordially offers his arm for the boy to take. “Now, let’s skedaddle before the theatre becomes too crowded.”
Cordelia sees Lorne and his date leaving the hotel lobby and catches up with them just before they exit the glass doors.
“Don’t you two look spiffy!” she enthuses with a wide smile, taking in both of their outfits. “You two are a hot couple, I gotta say.”
Kylar blushes faintly while Lorne beams proudly, thrilled to have such a gorgeous creature on his arm.
“Thanks, Cor. Not to be racist, or species-biased, but it’s nice to be partnered with someone whose complexion matches my own for once.”
“Oh, you match in more ways than that,” the brunette woman states with an arched eyebrow, thinking of all the things that make the two demons perfect for each other. “I hope you have a great night.”
“Don’t worry, we plan to,” Lorne responds, smiling at Kylar. “I’m sure he’ll love the Phantom just as much as I do.”
Kylar gives a shy smile back, knowing that he’d love anything they go to see, simply because he’s with Lorne.
“Well, have fun, you guys. Oh by the way - still waiting for that ‘you-know-what’,” Cordelia comments to Lorne with a teasing nudge of her elbow, prompting him about that kiss he was supposed to give Kylar ages ago but never did.
Lorne grimaces, knowing exactly what she’s talking about. He’s been too chicken to do it so far. Perhaps tonight is the night.
“We gotta go. I’ll chat to you later, Cordy,” he hurriedly says, steering Kylar away before the kid starts asking what they’re speaking about.
The two smartly-dressed Pyleans head out into the evening air. It’s just after dusk, a light dew settling on the trimmed hedges lining the courtyard. They stroll past a rectangular fish pond with a classically styled fountain in the middle, Kylar petting the head of a frog as they pass. Outside the hotel’s wrought iron gates waits a white stretch limousine. Kylar’s eyes light up when he sees it.
“I know what this is,” he remarks with excitement. “It’s called a limo! I’ve seen them in films.”
“Well, now you get to ride in one,” Lorne announces, opening the door so Kylar can climb in, the boy awed by the white leather seats, gold trims, plush carpet, state of the art sound system and flat-screen television. The ride is long enough for them to enjoy a complimentary glass of ice-cold champagne from the inbuilt bar, Kylar torn between peeking at Lorne’s red-suited handsomeness, admiring the colour-changing neon lights in the mirrored roof and looking out the windows at the passing city scenery. Lorne just sits back with a soft smile and watches Kylar enjoying a taste of extravagance. God knows, after what he’s been through, the kid deserves it.
Arriving at the operatic theatre, Lone and Kylar enter arm in arm through a special entrance for the demonically challenged, in order not to scare the humans also attending. They are taken up some stairs and shown to a reserved box seat which is on a balcony high above all the other patrons. Two comfy sofa-type chairs await the Empaths. There are no heads in front of them blocking the view, their elevated position giving them complete privacy and comfort. They also have a personal waiter to bring them as much wine and champagne as they want. Lorne and Kylar keep their glasses filled with pre-show drinks, waiting for everyone else to take their seats. Listening to the buzz of the crowd, Lorne points out various celebrities as they arrive down below but Kylar doesn’t know who any of them are.
“This is very nice, Lorne,” Kylar says, glancing around at their lofty private location, “but may I ask why are we not down there with everyone else?”
Peering over the edge of the balcony at the sea of hats and hair beneath them, Lorne replies regretfully, “They’re human, Kylar. We’d distract from the show. Sadly, we’re not as accepted in mainstream society as we’d like to be. Hence, the side entrance.”
“Are we the only demons here?”
“No, see across at that other box seat?” Lorne points to a genderless-looking couple with sky blue skin and tentacles coming out of their heads like fleshy dreadlocks. “That’s Y’noth and J’arlan. They’re pals of mine. Zyn demons. Brilliant composers and songwriters. They produce soundtracks for films.”
After he jovially raises his glass to the blue-skinned pair in greeting, Lorne motions to another raised viewing booth where a hugely overweight yellow demon sits, dripping in gold jewellery, a much slimmer but still flashy female hanging off him like an accessory.
“And that’s Garlakian Turkav and one of his many mistresses. He owns a bunch of luxury car dealerships. He’s filthy stinking rich and I hate him. Hi,” Lorne mouths, waving cordially at the other demon while plastering on a fake grin that even Kylar can see is forced.
“Why do you hate him?”
“Oh, I don’t really hate him. But I don’t exactly like him very much either. He thinks he’s better than everyone else on the planet and treats people like dirt. But he spends a lot of money at my club so I have to pretend to be nice to him.” Lorne snorts. “When you’re in business, kiddo, everyone is your friend and yet nobody is.”
“I see,” Kylar returns, somewhat puzzled.
The lights dim and Lorne grabs Kylar’s arm excitedly. “Shh, it’s starting!”
From the moment the dramatic overture begins and the huge chandelier is lit up and lifted over the stage, Kylar is thoroughly captivated. The music makes him feel every single emotion possible, every word sung hitting him straight in the heart. He gets caught up in the tragic tale, empathising with each character as if they are his own friends. He even sees himself in the lonely, disfigured Phantom and Kylar can only feel pity and sadness for him, wanting the masked spectre to triumph and win the girl but it doesn’t happen. By the time the performers are taking their well-deserved bows to the cheers and whistles of the crowd, Kylar is up on his feet applauding with everyone else, clapping, smiling and crying all at once. He’s never felt so much joy, love, sorrow, anguish and amazement in one go before. This is an experience he will never, ever forget as long as he lives. Now he understands why Lorne loves musical theatre so deeply.
The purple-shirted Pylean standing next to Kylar also has tears in his eyes but he’s grinning from ear to ear as he claps, occasionally sticking fingers in his mouth and letting out a loud whistle of appreciation.
Once the applause dies down and the noisy crowd begins to filter outside, Kylar’s sociable guardian escorts him over to the other box seat and introduces him to the blue Zyn demons, Lorne making chitchat with the talented pair for a while about what they’re up to and how things are going in the soundtrack business. Clinging to Lorne’s arm, Kylar is trying to be courteous and listen to the conversation but his mind keeps wandering, dazzled by the show and all the sensations it produced within him.
Back in the limo on their way home, Kylar is still dwelling on what he just saw and how tragically it ended. “Lorne, why didn’t Christine choose the Phantom? Did she think he was ugly?”
“I don’t think that’s the reason,” Lorne answers, shaking his head. “She accepted what was under his mask at the end. She finally realised that the outside didn’t matter; only the soul on the inside did.”
“So, why did she leave him for the other man?” Kylar asks in perplexity. “He is all wrong for her.”
“I know. Raoul doesn’t understand Christine like the Phantom does. He doesn’t have the same kind of passion, not for music or for life. I mean, yeah, the Phantom is a little messed up and he’s killed people but everything he does, he does for her,” the older Pylean rationalises. “He loves Christine more than life itself and I guess that makes him dangerous. I think she picked Mr Handsome because he’s the safer, and might I add more boring, choice.”
“Poor Phantom,” Kylar whispers as he stares out of the window; a tear dripping forlornly down his face. “He is all alone.”
“Oh, cookie.” Scooting closer on the white leather seat, Lorne takes Kylar’s face in his hands and wipes the tear away. “It’s not real, okay? It’s only a story.”
“I know.” Kylar tries to smile. Though he realises it’s just a theatre production, his emotions still believe every moment of it to be true. “It’s just such a sad story.”
Gazing at that upset little face, Lorne wants nothing more than to press his lips to Kylar’s pierced ones, kissing him lovingly and sweetly until the youth believes in happy endings again but Lorne can’t take advantage of Kylar’s vulnerability for his own selfish desires. And what if Kylar pushes him away? What if he doesn’t want to be kissed? He’s probably still quite hurt by what Lorne did with those twins and anyway, that’s not why Lorne took him on this date. He didn’t take Kylar out with the hopes of scoring or getting laid. He did it because he owes the boy this, because he owes him some special attention and undivided time together.
After all the pain and suffering he’s been through in his young life, Kylar deserves to be treated with the utmost respect from now on so Lorne simply draws the smaller demon into a hug, resting his chin on the top of Kylar’s head. He can clearly sense the younger Empath’s lingering unhappiness about the Phantom’s heartbreak and Lorne starts to feel gloomy in sympathy, like a man getting pains when his pregnant wife is in labour. He sighs.
“Damn it. I should have taken you to see a comedy.”
“No, I enjoyed it.” Kylar pulls back, looking at him with those glistening garnet eyes. “I truly did. The music was magical. It just makes me feel things. Too many things, actually,” he confesses.
“Know what that’s like.” Lorne makes a cynical face of understanding. “I can’t listen to the performers singing without knowing what’s going on in their personal lives. And some of those things I really don’t need jumping into my head uninvited. Kind of ruins the romance somewhat. But I’ve learned to block it out. And so can you, my emotional little plum-pudding. You can turn yourself off to those overwhelming feelings and just enjoy the show.”
“You can teach me how to do that?”
“Sure. It’s easy - just like putting up an imaginary force field,” Lorne breezes. “Now, how about a large caramel sundae to cheer you up?”
This time, Kylar smiles for real. “I fear you are starting to know me too well, Krevlornswath.”
Not as well as I’d like, Lorne can’t help thinking, his focus dropping to Kylar's smiling burgundy mouth and the sparkling golden ring adorning it. He averts his eyes just in case Kylar can somehow read his inappropriate thoughts and tells the limo driver to take them to the nearest McDonalds.
As they turn into the driveway of the fast food restaurant, Kylar spies a familiar auburn-headed figure in the car park. “Look, it’s Connor!” he exclaims. Delighted to see his friend, Kylar opens the door and leaps out of the limousine without waiting for it to stop.
“Kylar, wait!” Muttering at the impulsive move, Lorne despairs, “Oh, that kid will be the death of me, I swear.”
“Ky!” Also delighted by the unexpected meeting, Connor greets the other teenager with a friendly fist-tap. “What are you doing here?”
Kylar’s eyes sparkle. “Getting ice cream.”
“Me too,” Connor replies, watching as Lorne winds down the electric window of the now-parked limo, the other demon scowling with disapproval.
“Kylarkmar, don’t EVER jump out of a moving vehicle,” he chastises, too late. “I know you’re not used to cars but that’s very dangerous, young man. You could get run over.”
“Sorry,” Kylar mumbles. “I just wanted to talk to Connor.”
Looking warily around, Lorne hisses, “This isn’t Demon Town. You should get back in here before somebody sees your horned green butt and has a cholesterol-induced heart attack!”
There’s a polite cough from nearby.
Everyone turns. Leaning on a shiny blue motorcycle in the parking lot is a good-looking man in his late twenties, wearing a leather jacket, jeans and biker boots.
“Hi.” The guy gives a tentative wave, unfazed by the sight of horns and red eyes. “Introductions, Connor?”
“Right. Uh, this is Kylar,” Connor awkwardly gestures to the second teen. “And that’s Lorne. Everybody, this is Sebastian.”
“You can just call me Seb,” the new guy offers cheerily. “Everyone else does.”
“Hello,” Lorne says in curiosity, puzzled by the stranger’s unusual ease at seeing demons. “And you are?”
“That’s Connor’s boyfriend,” Kylar blurts out without thinking. “He looks just like the picture I saw!”
“Aw, shit,” Connor curses, knowing his secret is out now. He was just going to say that Sebastian was a fellow hunter but Kylar’s naïve honesty has ruined that plan.
“Dude, I told you not to tell anyone,” he scolds, shooting the other boy a fierce look.
“You said not to tell Angel,” Kylar replies in confusion. “Lorne is not Angel.”
Sighing, Connor realises his argument is futile. When you tell Kylar things, you have to be REALLY specific or he just doesn’t understand. It’s not his fault.
“Excuse me? Boyfriend?” Lorne butts in from the window, his non-existent eyebrows lifted at this astonishing and baffling news. “Did I…did I hear correctly?”
“Yeah, I’m the gay lover he secretly goes to see at night. Nice to meet you, Lorne,” Sebastian answers with a charming grin, walking over and sticking his hand out. “I must say I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“Well, I haven’t heard a damn thing about you, Mr Tall, Dark and Devastating,” Lorne remarks in intrigue as he climbs out of the limo and shakes Sebastian’s hand, gazing at the man’s glossy, shoulder-length black curls, lean body and exotic emerald eyes.
“He’s a model,” Kylar reveals, sensing Lorne’s admiration. “That is why he’s so attractive.”
“Indeed.” Lorne focuses interestedly on Connor’s almost-blushing face, realising he’s just gained valuable blackmail material. “Has someone been keeping a dirty little secret from Daddy?”
“Shut up,” Connor growls, knowing he can’t talk his way out of this one.
“Sebastian is older than Connor. And they have sex. That’s why he doesn’t want Angel to know.” Kylar’s tone is matter-of-fact. Connor glares at him and drags the innocent demon youth aside by the arm.
“Too much information, Kylar! Remember we talked about that?”
“Oh. I am sorry. I forgot.” Kylar chews his bottom lip and peeks up at Connor apologetically. Of course that adorable expression means that Connor can’t stay mad at his best friend for long.
“Don’t worry about it,” Connor sighs. “At least Dad’s not here. And I can always threaten Lorne to make him keep quiet.”
“No, you mustn’t,” the other teenager stresses, hating when Lorne and Connor argue. “You don’t need to issue threats. I will ensure Lorne doesn’t tell Angel about your gay life-partner.”
“Good. I wanna see the look on his face when I tell him myself.” Taking in his friend’s fancy suit, Connor asks with a half-smirk, “So, are you and Lorne on a ‘date’?”
“I think so.” Kylar smiles shyly and glances over to his dashingly-attired escort.
“Has he kissed you yet?”
“Not yet. But he thinks about it.”
“You been reading his mind?”
“No. That would be wrong. But I see him staring at my mouth sometimes.”
Connor arches a brow. “So, the piercing is starting to work, huh?”
Biting his ringed lip, Kylar returns bashfully, “I think so.”
They look over to where Lorne is talking with Sebastian by the limousine, both of the men getting to know each other. Connor frowns, realising his Egyptian boyfriend keeps staring at Kylar, admiring all the demony prettiness. The boy-slayer gives an unimpressed grunt. “I think it’s working on Sebastian too.”
“He could also be looking at you, Connor,” Kylar offers, sensing his friend’s rising resentment. “You are his lover, after all.”
“For now,” Connor mutters, thinking that he’ll have to bang Sebastian extra-hard tonight to remind the guy who he belongs to. Of course, Connor knows that Kylar is cute and has admired the other teenager himself but he’d still prefer it if his boyfriend didn’t stare so openly like that.
“I know some people who run a demon modelling school. I could get Kylar a place in five seconds flat. He’s fucking gorgeous,” Sebastian murmurs, making Lorne seethe with instant jealousy. “Do all you guys look like this?”
“Afraid not,” Lorne answers stiffly. “Kylar is a complete rarity where we come from. I know he looks the part, but I would never allow him to model. He’s far too innocent to get involved in that kind of business.”
Then the short-haired Empath does a double take, realising that in a roundabout way, Sebastian might have actually paid him a compliment too. “Wait – what do you mean ‘all you guys’?”
“I mean, you look pretty amazing too,” Sebastian reveals, turning to Lorne with flirtatious interest, studying not only his dandy suit and hat but the dappled greenness of Lorne’s complexion and the deep, matt-red colour around his eye-sockets. “I love your colouring. And your beautiful dark lips…That’s not makeup, is it?”
Lorne gulps, feeling that emerald gaze caressing him like a touch. “Um, no. I’m just wearing what Mother Nature decided to paint me with. But thank you – that’s very flattering.” He laughs nervously and fumbles for an old fashioned cigarette case he keeps in his jacket pocket, not used to someone as hot as Sebastian looking at him like that.
“I used to wear makeup. And dresses,” Sebastian volunteers, not ashamed of his past. “Not just on the catwalk, either. I used to dress up and go out like a woman, before Connor found me about to get eaten by a vamp and rescued me. He made me more of a man, made me stronger. He made me want to protect him for a change. I guess that’s what love does to you.”
The male model smiles, shifting his gaze over to where Connor and Kylar are talking. “I bet you feel that way about your boy too, especially since he was a slave and everything.”
Lorne frowns. “Connor told you about him? About us?”
“Yeah. He tells me everything. I’m really glad you’re getting along now, by the way. I know you and Connor clashed in the beginning.”
“Well, we’re trying.” Connor’s former ‘uncle’ grimaces as he taps a cigarette out of the mother-of-pearl case and slips it into the corner of his mouth. “It’s not always easy, I’ll admit. The brat has some attitude about him.”
Knowingly, Sebastian laughs. “Tell me about it. Kylar seems sweet as pie, though.”
“Oh, he is. He’s an absolute darling.” Lighting his smoke with a match and taking a puff, Lorne warms up to the subject. “Can’t believe he used to live in the village next door to me back home and I never saw him, not once. Because of what other people said to him, what names they called him, Kylar thought he was horrendously hideous and always hid himself away in the shadows. That’s why I never noticed him.”
“But you notice him now.”
Both of the men look at the strikingly androgynous teenager conversing with Connor, Kylar looking a little less feminine in the sharp black suit he’s clothed in but still pretty enough to make people take a second guess at his gender.
“So, you’re basically Kylar’s foster-dad. Is that why you’re having trouble accepting your feelings towards him?” Seb guesses. “Is that why you won’t kiss him?”
“What else has Connor told you?” Lorne demands indignantly, feeling as though his privacy has been invaded. “Because I’m about to put my foot up his blabber-mouthing ass right now and boot him back into the hell dimension he dropped out of!”
“He doesn’t mean any harm by it,” the tanned model assures Lorne. “Besides, I can see for myself how much you want Kylar. You know, speaking as one gay man to another. You’re not related so I assume you’re holding back because of his age. Because he’s so young?”
Realising that Sebastian is one hundred percent correct, Lorne rubs at his horned forehead, sighing. “Oh, you’re right. If only Kylar was at least ten years older. Or I was ten years younger.”
“I’m eight years older than Connor,” Seb points out. “And we work together just fine. There’s no reason why you and Kylar can’t either.”
“But he’s been hurt. Badly,” Lorne emphasises. “Some of it from me. I gather our talkative little hunter informed you about the twins too?”
“I heard about it, yeah. And I’m not judging,” Sebastian replies quickly. “God knows I’ve made plenty of stupid mistakes in my lifetime too.”
“He used to be a slave. He was chained up, beaten and whipped. The only physical contact he’s known in the past has been cruel and violent.” Lorne swallows uneasily. “How can I possibly touch him after that and not bring back bad memories?”
“That’s why you NEED to touch him,” the gay male insists. “Show him the other side. Show him how good it feels. Make him forget all the bad.”
Dragging deeply on his cigarette, Lorne finally admits, “I’m not sure I can.”
“You should at least try. I think he wants you to.”
“How do you know?”
“He keeps looking at you. Plus you’re on a date together. If Kylar didn’t want to be touched, he wouldn’t have accepted. And just look at how nicely he dressed up for you. Nobody makes such an effort for someone they don’t have feelings for.”
Lorne wishes he could believe that. But he can’t be certain about the way Kylar feels, not when it concerns his innermost emotions. As honest as Kylar normally is with him, Lorne senses that the youth doesn’t show all his feelings, all the time. There are still things he keeps private, things he doesn’t want Lorne to know, perhaps things that happened to him back on Pylea which might still haunt the eighteen year old and affect his behaviour to this day.
“I wish I could erase his painful past and let him grow up all over again,” Lorne says regretfully. “No child should ever suffer the way he has.”
“He’s not a child, Lorne. When I look into his eyes, I see strength, wisdom and maturity. I see wants and needs and desires. Just like you.”
“Great. Am I that transparent?” Lorne mumbles, not even bothering to lie.
“You want him; he wants you. What’s wrong about that?” Sebastian shrugs open-mindedly. “Kylar may have been a slave once but he’s not anymore. Now his body is his own and if you’re not fast enough, he might give it to someone else. Think about it, okay?”
Nodding, Lorne drops his cigarette butt to the ground and crushes it out with his heel, his brain processing the recommendation he’s been given. Usually, it’s Lorne who gives advice to those in need so it’s odd to be on the other end and be the one receiving it. However, Sebastian is dead-on right. Lorne doesn’t want to see Kylar with anybody else, romantically or sexually. If that happened, it would just about kill him.
“Come on, Connor,” Sebastian calls out. “Let’s leave these two handsome devils alone for the rest of their date.”
The younger boys come back to the limo to say their farewells.
“It was nice to meet you, Kylar,” Seb tells him with a smoothly seductive smile. “If you ever wanna come hang out at my house with me and Connor, you’re welcome anytime, honey. You too, Lorne. I have a bar and can make you special cocktails. Or anything else you want.”
Sebastian winks at the older demon, flustering him.
As soon as Lorne and Kylar get back into the limousine and head into the drive-through lane for caramel sundaes, Connor grabs Sebastian by the nipple ring and drags him away.
“Ow, ow, ow!” The older male yelps, stumbling along. “Connor, what the fuck?”
“I know he’s pretty but Kylar’s my best friend,” Connor growls possessively, his blue-sapphire eyes gleaming fiercely. “Don’t flirt with him. Or Lorne.”
“I’m sorry, candy-lips,” Seb hastily returns, holding up his hands in surrender. “You know I don’t mean anything by it. I only love YOU, Connor.”
“You better. Or I’ll snap your neck like a toothpick.” With that idle threat, Connor takes his boyfriend by the throat, pushes Sebastian’s leanly muscled body up against the bike and kisses him on the mouth, hard.
………
A/N: Thank goodness for freedom of speech. Thanks for reading :)
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A Paler Shade of Green