*Content warnings in description (if you have triggers or discomfort with dubious consent, definitely take care of yourself and check the content warnings.)*
The stage burst with smoke and lights and color.
Screams of delight tore Darius out of his trance. The Ringleader was nowhere to be found as trapeze artists flew, silk ribbons descended with confetti, and music deafened the procession of alluring performers.
He tried to focus. Anything. Everything.
It didn’t work.
He stared vacantly at the wondrous feats, unable to mask the disappointment of a vanished Ringleader. A few times, his eyes flitted to the shadows, thinking he had caught sight of the man’s return. Each time, he was left disappointed.
The death-defying performances niggled at his memory, reminding him of so many things. Mostly, he was realizing just how much these trips to see Delirium meant to him. How had he forgotten something so precious at one point in life?
Was this what people meant when they talked about lost childhoods? The world was such a dull place as an adult. When you’re finally old enough to embrace freedom and mobility, the desire has dried up. How ironic.
And this? Was it really my home?
“Hey, Darius?”
He blinked, glancing up to see one of his flatmates smiling at him sheepishly. Confused, he chanced a look at his wristwatch. Only half an hour had passed since the show began. “What’s up?” he asked over the roar of music.
Leaning over, he shouted, “Kind of need to use the bathroom, but I’m afraid I’ll get lost alone. Can you come with me?”
Any excuse to get out was welcome. Darius nodded immediately and maneuvered out of the row. They were headed for the staircase leading out of the tent in seconds. His flatmate sighed with relief. What was his name again?
“I think the bathrooms were this way,” Darius pointed across the darkened lot. A smattering of smaller lit up tents brightened the night.
“Looks like it,” he grinned. “Honestly, I was pretty hesitant too about this show. I really hate circuses and I was a little thankful you spoke up.” The confession was a bit hushed, cheeks tinted pink.
Ah. Evan. That’s his name. Darius smiled slightly. “I think we’re all just trying to be friendly and positive. It’s hard to go against the group sometimes.”
Evan nodded earnestly. “Exactly!” He rubbed his neck, seemingly nervous. “Glad I came though. Uh, not to sound creepy, but that guy who did the introduction was really hot.”
Heat stirred in his gut. “Yeah.”
“S-Sorry, was that weird? I didn’t mean to imply anything about you—”
His eyes widened and he quickly shook his head. “No! No. That’s not what I meant. I’m fine with that. Or, I mean,” Darius fumbled over his words, getting increasingly flustered before blurting, “I swing that way. Any way actually. Beautiful things. People. I like them all.”
The ensuing silence made his heart drop.
Evan burst out laughing a moment later. “Alright. Got it. Beautiful things are your type.” His grin was playful, and Darius relaxed. “Well then I feel less anxious about saying that he was seriously gorgeous.” Evan tapped his chin thoughtfully, eyes glazing over.
“Very,” Darius breathed quietly. It sounded reverent to his own ears.
“People like that just have a way of getting you hot and bothered, huh?” Evan chuckled.
He could only nod, not trusting his voice anymore.
They wandered between the smaller tents, finding the toilets a few minutes later. It was marked for patrons, sticking out as the only concrete structure around. Although efforts had clearly been made to spruce it up, the reality was their audiences were too large and the washrooms were merely a utility.
“I’ll wait out here,” Darius stated, tucking his hands in his light cardigan.
Evan waved, shuffling quickly into the building.
The music was carried in the cool breeze. Darius turned in the direction of the Big Top, sighing heavily. That voice was still bouncing off the walls of his mind.
Kallum.
“Not enjoying my show?”
Darius froze, the temperature dropping all around him. His blood boiled in response though, and the contrast made him shudder.
Turning slowly, he found the Ringleader slinking toward him. His top hat was tucked under one arm, knocking lazily against the coiled whip clipped to his belt.
“I included some old acts,” Kallum drawled, tousling his dark locks with a white gloved hand. The black makeup around his eyes was smudged to the border of wild. It made his smile look feral in the dim light. “I thought you might enjoy it more. Was I wrong?”
“It’s fine,” Darius muttered, mouth dry. He took a hesitant step back when Kallum inched closer. His heart was thudding hard, practically slamming against his ribcage. “My friend. He’s in the bathroom, so I’m waiting for him.”
The Ringleader seemed amused. “So honest.” He reached out, long fingers stroking Darius’s hair delicately.
“Why would I have a reason to lie?” he bit back, deciding to rely on anger to mask his intoxicated thoughts. This man didn’t need to know just how much his mere presence had Darius quaking.
Dark lashes bowed and red lips thinned. “Oh that’s no good,” he murmured, clicking his tongue. The fingers in Darius’s hair slowly curled at the nape of his neck.
His breath hitched.
“Didn’t I praise you for being honest?” Kallum whispered, frosty lips pressing against his ear.
When did he get so close?
Darius swallowed hard, placing a hand on the Ringleader's chest to shove him back. When sharp teeth nipped at the shell of his ear, he lost the resolve to get away. A moan lodged itself in his throat and he fisted Kallum’s silk blouse.
“That’s better,” he hummed encouragingly, voice a sweet, sultry lilt. The tip of his tongue traced a slow line down Darius’s jaw as his fingers tightened in his hair. With a firm tug, the Ringleader bared his prey’s neck.
Darius’s knees buckled as he was forced to take staggering steps backward. They stumbled into the shadows of a nearby tent, soft grass tickling his ankles. He gasped as razor sharp teeth sunk into his throat.
All at once, that night came back to him.
He hadn’t wanted to admit it. Hadn’t wanted to acknowledge it. I was bit. I was…
Darius made to shout, but his voice shriveled up as a hand cupped him through his straining pants. “F-Fuck,” he hissed, eyes darting to the abandoned top hat. It sat innocently at their feet, witness to something dark and wonderful.
Kallum drank gratuitously, moaning over the pulsing veins. His jaw ached with the desire to tear that beautiful throat wide open. But. He ground the heel of his hand against Darius, relishing in the choked whimpers it elicited.
“H-Hey-!” The words were barely aspirated. His hands had found their way into the Ringleader’s ink black hair as the rushing of his blood numbed everything. That intoxicating scent was drowning him.
With a sickening squelch, Kallum retracted his fangs, gasping sharply as the last dregs of blood slid down his throat. He dragged a heavy tongue over the wound, feeling it close beneath his touch as Darius cried out sweetly.
“My treasure,” he sighed, pressing his forehead against Darius’s. Flicking his fingers, the button popped free and the zipper dragged down. He hushed him softly, searching Darius’s glazed eyes. “Thank you for the delicious meal,” he cooed breathlessly, sliding a gloved hand inside his tented undergarments. “Let me return the favor.”
“Darius?”
They stilled.
The haze of euphoria was rapidly clearing from Darius’s expression. Panicked eyes darted past the tent. Evan had wandered out of the washroom, turning in a slow, confused circle just a few feet away from them. In a rush, Darius disentangled his fingers from Kallum’s mussed hair.
He opened his mouth to call out but stopped when he felt a hand stroke him long and hard. Biting his lip, Darius threw his head back. Another stroke. And then another. With a shaky hand, he clamped down on Kallum’s wrist, but it did nothing to deter him.
“What are you,” Darius trailed off as he met fiery red eyes. They were filled with promise.
Fuck.
“Are you lost, friend?” Who’s that?
Evan’s nervous laughter filled the air. “Uh no, not exactly. My friend was waiting for me while I used the bathroom, but he’s gone.”
A warm mouth latched onto Darius’s throat again, but this time, it only nibbled playfully. Hot breath rushed over his chilled skin as the hand in his pants continued their relentless attack.
“Oh, I’m sure he just headed back before you,” the person assured, sugary sweet. “It’ll be the grand finale shortly, so maybe he heard the music and rushed back.”
Darius covered his own mouth as Kallum suddenly dropped to his knees and dragged his underwear down. The cool night air rushed around him for only a second before wet heat encapsulated him.
“That makes sense,” Evan agreed, sounding a little confused but also desperate to please. “I’ll go back too, then.”
He fisted Kallum’s hair without thinking, entire body trembling as teeth, tongue, and lips pleasured him thoroughly. Blood welled up in his mouth as he bit down hard to stop from crying out.
“Let me escort you. Wouldn’t want you getting lost.” A giggle.
“Right, yes. Thank you!”
And then their voices began to fade.
Darius gasped harshly as teasing fingers curled around him, squeezing and stroking roughly. When he chanced a glance down, he found Kallum’s bright gaze focused on him. The tip of Darius's length rested on his tongue, lips parted softly as if in presentation.
Darius swore loudly, shoving himself deep inside as he came with a full body shudder.
His vision whited out as he took in lungful after lungful of air. Both knees were ready to give out and the only thing keeping him upright were the strong hands gripping his thighs. Darius’s hands slipped down to Kallum’s shoulders, trying to steady himself.
The Ringleader swallowed. His gaze lingered for a moment, but then he turned curiously smug eyes up. Darius’s flushed face hovered above him, looking a dozen kinds of conflicted and satisfied.
“Aren’t you lovely?” Kallum teased, smiling widely. He slowly stood, careful not to jostle his unsteady partner.
Tugging off the stained gloves, he tucked them into a pocket before righting Darius’s clothes. By the time he clasped the button of his jeans, his breathing had evened out. Kallum kissed Darius’s hair faintly, hand coming up to caress the fine line of his jaw.
“That was—what was that?” Darius managed, hoarsely. He warily pushed away, noting the warmth of Kallum’s touch. My blood did that, didn’t it? The thought terrified and mesmerized him in equal measure.
“I think young people call it a blowjob,” Kallum offered, lips twitching, “They’re fun, aren’t they?”
His face reddened. “You know what I’m talking about,” Darius blustered, putting more distance between them. “You ate me.”
Kallum seemed to turn the words over in his head, eyes roaming the air thoughtfully. “Such a crass way of putting it,” he remarked. “Though I don’t really mind. It certainly sounds risqué.”
“That’s not,” Darius stopped, rubbing his throbbing head. “I’m not doing this.” He stepped away, striding out of the shadows. What he really wanted to do was sprint away. And yet, when he attempted to, a wave of nausea overcame him. He staggered, barely managing to catch himself.
A long shadow stretched over him, followed by the faint touch of something cold and smooth.
Darius flinched, jerking around to see a glass egg just inches from his face. Intricate metal was laced up and down the palm sized trinket. A thick band of swirling silver cinched the center of the egg.
Kallum gazed at him steadily, a ghost of a smile on his lips. “Forgive me,” he murmured, turning the trinket in his hands. Slowly, he began to wind something on the bottom of the egg.
With each click, Darius’s curiosity got the better of him. Kallum righted the object in his hand, holding it solemnly. “I was too excited to welcome you home,” he explained, tapping the top of the egg.
It popped apart at the center, revealing a lazily rotating Big Top. The soft tinkling of silver bells filtered out, drawing together into a cryptic lullaby. Darius couldn’t tear his eyes away. Light danced off the Big Top’s glassy surface and for a moment, he was convinced the music box was alive.
Warm fingertips brushed his cheek. Startled, Darius met the Ringleader’s gaze.
“Come see me again,” Kallum whispered, low and sweet and sinful. He took Darius’s hand, setting the glass egg on his palm. “For you.”
And for a second, he wanted to ask if it was a bribe. Maybe a gift? But when he clutched it tight to his racing heart, he knew what it was.
A promise.
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