Anyone remember Ye Old Dial-Up Internets? When computers used those archaic 56K modem thingies to literally dial into ISPs, and the horrible screeching sounds of a thousand cats being bathed occupied your phone line? Oh yeah, gooood times. *cringes*
What really sucked about Ye Old Dial-Up were the frequent and annoying drops in the connection. Sometimes I’d be working on a story with Barb or RPing, and without warning—POOF! Then would come the long re-dialing process, and it took me a mother of a time to figure out how to mute the modem speaker because DAAAAYUM that bugger was really loud at 3am!
But the Dark Dial-up Age ended once I finally moved into the 21st century (sometime in 2006) and got me some High Speed Internets. Now, a new era of uninterrupted online time has led to the creation of many stories chock full of m/m smexing (and *gasp* occasionally m/f or m/m/f too) with my partner-in-crime! A few have already been published, bunches more are on the way, and some are just short little trysts for fun.
KITSUNE is one of those short stories, taking place a few years after the events of Soul of the Night. There aren’t many beings powerful enough to prey on vampires, but Kiyoshi and Ryuhei find themselves having to deal with a pretty demoness who’s got some plans of her own with the two lovers.
Over the next few weeks, Barb and I will be serializing the Kitsune here at Slash-and-Burn, so please remember to bookmark this blog and check back often. We hope you enjoy~!
**
KITSUNE
Chapter 1
France, 1880
Kiyoshi made his way down the empty aisle towards their compartment, his shoes making no sound on the carpeting. The train bounced along the tracks as it raced towards the city, now only a few miles away, and slivers of moonlight darting across the compartment walls as it streamed in through the windows.
Muffled noises and yawns came from behind the closed doors as passengers started to wake. A man with sleepy eyes and disheveled hair popped out of the compartment in front of Kiyoshi, mumbled something groggily in French and stumbled past him towards the dining car no doubt for some coffee.
Giving a polite bow as the man walked away, Kiyoshi stopped at the next compartment and slipped inside.
“Ask me how to say something in French,” Ryuhei dropped the newspaper he’d been reading on to his lap and peered at Kiyoshi over the top of his wire-rimmed glasses.
“Why are you wearing those?” Kiyoshi cocked his head to one side, sliding the door closed behind him. He hadn’t even realized when during their trip across Europe Ryuhei had gotten the glasses. He certainly didn’t need them, Ryuhei’s vision being far sharper than any mortal’s could ever be.
Ryuhei blinked. “Don’t you think they look sexy?”
“They do, actually,” Kiyoshi confessed, crossing the tight little compartment to sit down on the seat next to Ryu.
Everyone else on the train had just started to wake after the long train ride through the night. For Kiyoshi and Ryuhei, there was nothing unusual about being up at four in the morning. Ryuhei leaned back against the cloth seat, dressed in ash gray trousers and a crimson vest, his coat carefully folded on the empty bench opposite him.
“Now go on, ask me,” Ryuhei insisted, playfully waving the folded newspaper through the air. “I’ve been practicing for this trip.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Kiyoshi laughed and sat down on the cloth seat next to Ryuhei, drawing his knees up under his chin. He reached over and fingered the hem of Ryuhei’s vest, tracing his fingertips over the embroidered silk. “Anything is fine, Ryu-san.”
“Je t'aime.” Ryuhei turned in his seat, leaning into Kiyoshi’s touch. He tossed the newspaper onto the seat across from them, placing his hand over Kiyoshi’s.
“That’s beautiful,” Kiyoshi breathed.
Ryuhei leaned in, gently brushing his lips across Kiyoshi’s. “They say French is the language of love,” he murmured, moving his free hand to tug open Kiyoshi’s collar. His kiss deepened and Kiyoshi felt the small prick of Ryuhei’s fangs on his lips.
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