InsaneJournal

WHO: Count D and Xanatos, with some Leon at the beginning
WHAT: A party
WHERE: Xanatos’ mansion
WHEN: Friday, May 8th
RATING: Fairly low? Probably some language, a bit of innuendo
STATUS: Complete upon posting



At a party being thrown by the lovely and rich Xanatos, was Count D. The Count wore his best formal skirt and cheongsam with white silk and orange flowers, his nails polished to match. In his hand, he held a sweet strawberry drink and by his side was Chris who was hiding behind one of the Count’s legs.

D didn’t scold him for it, but he did move to encourage the boy out from behind him. Chris needed more socialization of his own species instead of what he got from T-Chan and Pon-Chan.

I wanna go home, Chris said.

D did not respond. Instead, his lips curled up slightly as he saw the tall, dark, and handsome Xanatos move toward them.

***

It wasn't the first ritzy party that Leon had gone to, but it was the first one he'd been to off-duty. He'd worn a formal suit, with a tie no less, and gas rented a matching one for Chris, though Chris looked as uncomfortable in his as Leon felt.

It was hard not to gape. The cake was massive, and decorated with pearls - they had to be fake - and fancier looking than any he'd seen outside of magazines. Acrobats soared across the high ballroom ceiling above them, performing daring feats to the beats of the DJ who had set up between the two curving staircases. Leon caught sight of at least five security guards - one at the door, two at the tops of each staircase and at least two wearing plain clothes mixed in among the guests.

This guy was apparently brand new in town and apparently wanted no one to underestimate how much wealth he had at his fingertips.

“We’ll just stay for a little bit,” Leon said to Chris, not tearing his eyes from the acrobats.

He was so caught up in everything else that he didn't notice that Xanatos was approaching until he was practically standing next to them. His suit looked more casual than Leon's, but Leon didn't doubt that it probably cost ten times more, and his long, brown hair was pulled into a ponytail at the nape of his neck. Leon immediately didn’t like him.

Xanatos smiled, and extended a hand to D. “Hello, you two must be from Valarnet. I’m David Xanatos. I’m so happy you could make it.”

***

Xanatos was what one would call dreamy. To D, he was simply lovely. Polite, well groomed, clean. The acrobats were impressive, but D was much more interested in the cake (those had to be real pearls).

And never mind the way his cheeks flushed as he ignored his dear Detective and allowed Xanatos to take his small hand into his large, but soft one. D noted how warm it was and how good his own hand felt in its palm. Oh, women must love this man and why not? Just have a good look at him.

“Thank you for having us, Mr. Xanatos,” he said with a heavy blink, his voice still steady and calm. “It’s a beautiful house, and cake, if I might add.”

***

“Thank you,” Xanatos said, and Leon couldn’t help notice that he was holding on to D’s hand for longer than the acceptable two shakes.

Leon’s shoulders tensed even more at the way that D was looking at this guy. What was it with D and dudes who were obviously bad news? It was just like Wong all over again.

Alright, so Xanatos probably wasn’t a cannibal (though who knew for sure? Leon had seen Hannibal), but still. There was something Not Right about him.

“Fake pearls though, right?” Leon asked, not quite knocking D’s hand away from Xanatos but thrusting his hand forward with enough force that Xanatos couldn’t help but notice it. Xanatos gave him a vaguely amused look, let go of D’s hand, and took Leon’s.


“Candy pearls, actually. They do look very real though, don’t they? The baker that I hired went above and beyond what I thought.”

Leon fumed a little. It wasn’t that he was trying to discredit Xanatos with the pearls comment or anything, but he was acutely aware that D would probably prefer candy pearls to real ones.

“Leon Orcot,” Leon snarled, squeezing Xanato’s hand a little tighter than he had to, though Xanatos didn’t seem to mind. “This is D and Chris.”

***

Candy pearls!

Were there hearts in D’s eyes? It was entirely within the realm of possibility. After all, Xanatos hadn’t sourced his pearls from a poor oyster. D brought his hands down to the front of his robe and tipped his chin down slightly, but side eyed the Detective. Leon was confusing most of the time, but mostly when it came to the possibility of D being interested in anyone else. Or maybe his darling Detective thought that anyone D liked must be part of a criminal ring.

Hmph.

“Officer Orcot seems to forget I have a voice,” he stated coolly. “I would love to see more of your home.”

***

“A police officer?” Xanatos asked, looking at Leon with renewed interest.

“Detective,” Leon snapped, pulling his hand away from Xanatos. Xanatos looked at him with some amusement, before turning his attention back to D. He hadn’t expected any law enforcement at his party, but he couldn’t say he was disappointed. Getting to know some of the local police would be a boon more than anything else.

“I would be happy to show you around. Perhaps your son would be interested in playing with the other children?” Xanatos asked.

“He’s not our son,” Leon snapped. “He’s my kid brother.”

“I believe there’s a magician and some balloon animals just through that door,” Xanatos said, as if the detective hadn’t just interrupted him, gesturing to a room that came off the main ballroom. “I know for certain that there’s already a couple young girls around his age there. After that, I would be happy to show you around. And then perhaps we can cut the cake.” He hadn’t missed how D was eyeing up the cake.

***

The Detective snapping like that had the Count stepping forward, ‘accidently’ stepping on Leon with a heeled satin lined boot. Otherwise, he was calm and said, “I’m sorry.”

Then he turned his attention to Chris who seemed interested in the magician. “It’s alright,” D assured, placing a hand on Chris’ shoulder. “I bet everyone would love to meet you.” Yes, he very much wanted to see the cake and to get the Detective out of the way.

***

Chris looked to his brother for permission too. Leon glanced at the room, frowned a little to himself, and then nodded. He would have liked to at least walk Chris there and make sure that everything was on the up-and-up, but he wasn’t about to leave D alone with this Xanatos. For all he knew, Xanatos had intentions of turning D into the main course.

Chris turned and made his way quickly toward the room.

“So, when’s this tour starting?” Leon asked.

If Xanatos was annoyed by the tagalong, he didn’t show it. “Right now,” he said, and then turned to D. “Is there anywhere in particular you’d like to start? I’m afraid I only just arrived last night, so my gallery isn’t quite set up yet, though I do have some artifacts there. There’s also the gardens, the library, the pool room…”

Yeah, Leon hated this guy.

***

As Chris went, D watched. He, too, was always looking out for Chris in one way or another, but he was sure that Chris would be safe in a room playing with other kids and watching someone make balloon animals.

His attention turned back to Xanatos again. He ignored his Detective and tipped his head to the side with a little smile on his lips.

“A garden?” he asked with interest, sliding closer to Xanatos’ side. Even if Xanatos had no attraction to men, he was charming and so, so lovely, and the Count’s skinny arm slid in easily with their host’s. The Detective would have nothing to worry himself over tonight as D was sure Xanatos wouldn’t leave his other guests alone for very long, he just didn’t seem like the sort, but if he did, D also wouldn’t complain.

***

Xanatos shot Leon another amused look as D slid his arm into the crook of his arm. Obviously, the detective wasn’t pleased at the way his husband (? though, they weren’t wearing rings. Boyfriend, perhaps) was flirting - he looked like he was about to boil over - but the detective didn’t say anything, so Xanatos didn’t protest.

“Right this way then,” he said, laying a hand on D’s hand as he guided him toward the large, glass french doors. The night air outside was cool, though not unpleasant, and the garden path was illuminated by candle light. A large fountain, the centre piece of the hardscape and surrounded by stone benches, babbled pleasantly, though Xanatos walked past it onto the stone pathway that lead through the grounds, surrounded by flowers and perfectly landscaped trees and bushes.

The detective skulked along behind them, though not too close, and Xanatos leaned his head in close to D so as to make sure that he wouldn’t be overheard. “I would hate to get on the bad side of a detective my first night here,” he said into D’s ear. “Your boyfriend isn’t the jealous type, I hope?”

***

If D wasn’t so focused on the cake that still awaited them, he might have swooned over the garden. So many species of birds could live here. In fact, a few of them came to mind for Xanatos, or perhaps a few fish here and there. He’d have to touch on that later, get Xanatos to visit him at the shop so that the Count could give Xanatos what he wanted, or even, what he needed.

Xanatos smelled delicious, like nutmeg heavy carrot cake.

D leaned in a little, his hand shifting a little under Xanatos’ so the tips of his nails ran gently along the lines on the man’s palm.

“He isn’t my boyfriend,” he assured, nearly laughing at the very idea. He turned his face slightly toward Xanatos, not quite sharing the man’s breath. Yet. “He thinks I’m a murderer.” Whether it was true or not was D’s own secret.

***

D leaned into Xanatos and suddenly, Xanatos burst out laughing: a rich, hearty chuckle. Leon bristled, wondering what they were talking about, and wondering if he should get closer somehow.

“Does he now?” Xanatos said, leaning back close to D. “That sounds like it must be quite the story, one I’d be interested in hearing. Though, I suppose if there were any truth to the accusation, you wouldn’t tell the man you just met minutes ago.”

***

Oh, Xanatos was trouble. Lots and lots of trouble.
“Of course not,” the Count purred behind his knowing smile. Yes, how silly would that be to tell a complete stranger about such a thing? Xanatos wasn’t stupid, though, that much, D knew. If Xanatos was onto him, D could justify anything and he wasn’t even sure if Xanatos minded at all.

Still, a change of subject was in order. “Did you say you have a gallery?”

***

Xanatos smiled, cupping D’s cheek with his hand, his thumb on D’s chin, just below those painted lips. “You’re going to be trouble, aren’t you?” Xanatos asked, his voice low, and then smiled, turning back toward the Detective, who looked like he was about the have a conniption.

“I do have a gallery,” Xanatos said, loud enough that even Leon could hear him. “If you give it another week, it will be in proper viewing order, though I could give you a sneak peek now, if you would like.”

***

Funny that they were thinking the same thing about each other. As much as the Count tried not to, his eyes fell shut briefly at Xanatos’ touch. Not many touched him this way, he couldn’t even remember the last time anyone had and it felt marvelous. There were times he wished his Detective would, but…

“I would like that very much, with you,” D answered, his eyes opening again. He didn’t so much as glance back at Leon. He already knew the Detective would be there. The Detective was always there, even when he wasn’t.

***

“Will you be joining us, Detective Orcot?” Xanatos asked smoothly, certain that Leon would have intended to join them, had he not been directly asked. As it was…

Leon seemed conflicted - he was very easy to read, even if Xanatos had only met him minutes ago (that didn’t seem like a favourable trait in a detective) - and then he turned, waving a hand in his the air. “No, that’s fine. I’d rather watch the hot acrobats than a bunch of dusty old artifacts. You guys have fun doing whatever,” and, as Xanatos had hoped, he stormed off, grabbing a champagne flute off one of the trays born by one of the servers. He downed it in a single gulp, and then disappeared into ballroom.

“Such a shame,” Xanatos said, sounding for all the world like he didn’t mean a word of it. “Shall we?”

***

As much as D wanted some alone time with Xanatos, now that the Detective was actually gone, it didn’t feel as satisfying as it should have. Was this guilt? There was nothing to feel guilty about and yet, there it was.

But none of it registered on D’s expression.

“It is, isn’t it?” the Count agreed, but did really mean it, though not the way one might expect. As much as they bickered back and forth, D was fond of his Detective and if he were being honest, being without him felt like he was missing a nail.

All the same, he smiled at his host. “Yes,” he said. “Then you can show me your marvelous cake.”

***

Xanatos brought D back into the ballroom, and then up one of the large, curving staircases. He nodded tot he security guard stationed at the top of the staircase as he went passed, and then led D down a long hallway that ended in the large, dark room. “Lights, on,” he called once he walked into the room, and the lights above flickered to life.

Only about half the displays held objects, though there were more artifacts placed carefully in crates filled with shredded paper. Nearly all the objects were ancient, spreading from a variety of cultures across time and space.

“Like I said, it’s not much to look at just yet. I’m still waiting on some things to be shipped from New York, and of course I haven't had much time to have the displays fully set up. It’s not much of a collection just yet, though I’ve been working on it for over a decade.”

***

As soon as the lights came (impressively) on, any feelings of guilt began to fade away. The Count nearly gasped at everything and his arm slid out from Xanatos’ so he could walk slowly among the pieces.

Somehow, D felt a familiarity with it all, though he’d never seen anything like it. His robes slid along the floor behind him as he walked and he pulled the small train up with a loop that went around his wrist so that it wouldn’t knock anything over. Overwhelmed, D couldn’t find many words, but he looked back at Xanatos when he was able to pause.

“You do nothing halfway, do you,” he stated, a fact more than a question.

***

“There’s no path to success if you only do things in halves,” Xanatos said, pleased at the reaction, keeping one step behind D. “Twenty years ago, I was the son of a poor fisherman in Maine. Now,” he spread his arms, encompassing not only the gallery, but the entire mansion, Xanatos Enterprises, all of it.

All of the objects here were rumoured to carry some sort of mythical, mythological power, though Xanatos had yet to figure out how to unleash that power. He hoped being here in the OC, a place that was rumoured to be riddled with supernatural events, where it was said the veil between worlds was thinner than nearly anywhere else, would help him uncover it.

“I’ve done a lot of research to uncover most of these,” he said, pleased. “I’m glad that you’re enjoying them.”

***

Xanatos had something in his eyes that D didn’t quite trust as he scanned over the pieces. D wondered how Xanatos would react if anyone asked if he would sell a piece to them and what Xanatos would do if he got his hands on something like D’s burner.

That was alright, D would have to find something else for him.

For now, D gave no indication as to what he was thinking other than being supremely impressed by the works before him. Besides, he wanted cake and it would do him no good for Xanatos to start questioning him.

So D moved near the man again and looked at him as if he were the most beautiful and interesting piece in the gallery. “I hope I’m not keeping you from your other guests,” he said.

***

Xanatos smiled indulgently at D’s apparent fawning, wondering vaguely if it was genuine. If Xanatos had been surrounded by all this art and these relics, it was unlikely he’d take any exceptional interest in any other human being who was around. It wasn’t impossible, he supposed. He’d met enough people, men and women both, who would give him that look as soon as it truly sunk in just how much wealth and power he had at his fingertips.

“Not at all. Miss Forbes did a good enough job on the party that I’m sure everyone is sufficiently entertained to not even notice my absence for some time if you wished to continue our tour. But if you were eager to get back to the main party, I would be happy to accompany you.”

***
Not wanting to give any indication that he wanted to get back to his Detective who was likely getting drunk and hitting on any leggy blonde with large assets, D eased himself closer to Xanatos, allowing himself the moments of warmth near him.

“My curiosity will be my death,” he said sweetly, moving so that he could slide his arm back in with Xanatos, indicating that he would very much like to continue the tour.

***

“Hopefully it’ll lead to answers satisfying enough to bring you back,” Xanatos said, placing his hand on D’s hand. “The garden and the gallery are the two most interesting parts of my home, so I’m afraid everything else might be a bore. There’s the pool room, though since we won’t be taking a swim tonight, it sees as though it might be a waste. There are the bedrooms, and the dojo has been completed if you would be interested seeing either of those. The fencing room should be nearly finished as well, at this point.” Xanatos had made sure his dojo was one of the first rooms finished, even before his bedroom had been, but he didn’t make daily sojourns to the fencing room, and since he’d only been here for a single day he hadn’t quite made his way there yet.

***

“A dojo?” D said excitedly.

Yes, the Chinese man wanted to see the dojo. Almost had to go see the dojo. And fencing? Yes, but dojo first. If Xanatos didn’t need to be anywhere soon, D wanted to see it all. The cake called to him the most, but he could indulge in the rest as well.

***

Xanatos smiled. He would have been disappointed had D asked to see the bedroom, but he was always pleased to show off his dojo. Once he had the offices set up in Costa Mesa and he no longer had to work from home, his dojo would become one of his most used rooms in the house - the only one that would come close to it would be the library, and he was still getting most of his books shipped over.

“Well then, come with me,” Xanatos said, learning to another wing of the house, down another staircase so they were back on the ground floor.

“I don’t suppose you do any sort of martial arts?” Xanatos asked. One look at D’s nails was all it took for him to know that the other man likely couldn’t make a fist without injuring himself more than his opponent and therefore wasn’t currently fighting, but that didn’t mean that he might not have had some background in his past.

****

The house was miraculous and massive, filled with the objects of a well traveled and cultured man. If there was anything not to trust about Xanatos, it didn’t show itself outright. D didn’t think Xanatos was harmful to him personally, though, and so he kept himself close and walked easily with him, right to the ground floor.

One of the first rules of martial arts is not to brag about being able to do martial arts, so when Xanatos asked him about it, D only said, “I prefer to avoid confrontation as much as possible.” Another rule of martial arts.

***

“Me as well, though confrontation isn’t always avoidable.” Xanatos had a lot of enemies, and not all of them played nice. He also enjoyed competition, which meant that he frequently entered into martial arts competitions. He’d yet to win on the world stage, though he’d always fared pretty well.

“Well, here we are,” he said, pulling open the sliding paper door that marked the door to his dojo. His gi hung on the wall closest to them so that he could easily change into it for training, and in the corner hung a large punching bag next to a mu ren zhuang. The floor was covered entirely in tatami mats. A small shrine dedicated to Chang’e was on the far wall, directly opposite to the entrance, surrounded by wooden plaques that had the Chinese words for tenacity, honour, and strength surrounding it.

To the right, there were a series of sliding doors that Xanatos could open which would lead to an arboreal area of his garden which had a small stream running through it, which Xanatos often used to meditate next to.

***

“Me as well, though confrontation isn’t always avoidable.” Xanatos had a lot of enemies, and not all of them played nice. He also enjoyed competition, which meant that he frequently entered into martial arts competitions. He’d yet to win on the world stage, though he’d always fared pretty well.

“Well, here we are,” he said, pulling open the sliding paper door that marked the door to his dojo. His gi hung on the wall closest to them so that he could easily change into it for training, and in the corner hung a large punching bag next to a mu ren zhuang. The floor was covered entirely in tatami mats. A small shrine dedicated to Chang’e was on the far wall, directly opposite to the entrance, surrounded by wooden plaques that had the Chinese words for tenacity, honour, and strength surrounding it.

To the right, there were a series of sliding doors that Xanatos could open which would lead to an arboreal area of his garden which had a small stream running through it, which Xanatos often used to meditate next to.

***

Before they walked onto the mats, the Count paused to let go of Xanatos so he could bend down and lift his robes up just enough to slide the zips of his boots down in order to remove them, leaving him in stockinged feet that he used to carefully step onto the mats. He took his bow, the movement practiced and elegant.

As he moved in further, he felt a small lump in his throat. It was all familiar and reminded him of home. He stopped in front of the Chang’e shrine and looked over his shoulder. This time, he allowed his expression to reflect at least something.

“Do you want to live forever, Xanatos?” he asked.

***

Xanatos slipped off his shoes and followed D into the room at a distance, his hands in his coat pocket. It was… well, it was impressive how well D could move, even in his cheongsam. It was beautiful, nearly mesmerizing. He would have asked D if he would like a sparring partner - with Owen still in New York, Xanatos was sadly lacking in those - but he wouldn’t have wanted to be on the other end of D’s claws.

At D’s question, Xanatos’s face broke into a grin. He hadn’t expected anyone to catch on to him so quick, and he was impressed. “Well, who wouldn’t?” he asked, pulling his hands out of his pocket so he could shrug, palms toward the ceiling.

****

They could be on the moon if they really wanted to, but the one D really wanted to do that with him wasn’t here and might not ever be.

D moved closer to the flourishly shrugging man and slid his own hands up Xanatos’ broad chest, feeling of his expensive material. If D wanted to live forever or not went unsaid and remained his own secret. “She does,” he stated, his knowing smile intact. As long her legend stayed alive, so did she.

***

Xanatos placed his hands on D’s hips. “Makes you wonder if she’s still up there somewhere, hiding from the probes and the space shuttles that wind up there.” Sometimes he dreamed of going to the moon to find her and to ask her secrets.

***

“I’m sure she is,” D answered, entirely certain of just that.

Leaning in against Xanatos’ body felt like it might be good, but D opted not to, allowing Xanatos his starry-eyed moment, thinking of shuttles and probes. It was sad, to think that she’d have to hide that way.

“Will you show me what’s beyond your screens?” D asked, easing away from Xanatos’ inviting form.

***

Xanatos let D step away from him, a faintly amused expression on his face. It was hard for him to get a read on what it was that D wanted; either the man was a tease to an almost frustrating degree, or there was more to his detective than D was willing to admit.

“Of course,” Xanatos said, stepping smoothly toward the doors. With both hands, he slid the door open. It was dark outside, though there was a pleasant breeze. A wooden deck extended three feet from the wall, where it was swallowed by low, verdant trees. The stream snaked around the side of the building before disappearing in the lush underbrush, all of which served to make the dojo completely private.

***

Xanatos’ world was almost like being home again. D had his own tricks, but he wondered how many Xanatos had in little hidden rooms of his home. Even D was enraptured as he stepped outside. If Xanatos wanted to live forever, he could be even more dangerous than D imagined, but D also found some excitement to it. If Xanatos were anything but human, D would do a lot to have him.

“Would you ever consider birds for your gardens?” he asked, peering over the side at the stream that trickled lazily and peacefully along.

***

Unfortunately, Xanatos was regrettably human. He would have been happy to change that as well, if he could. “I believe the garden already has some,” Xanatos said, smiling. “I think there are some nests here, though I’m afraid I haven’t seen them personally.”

***

“That’s…”

D couldn’t help himself. He moved closer and took Xanatos’ hands, his eyes shining in their different hues.

“So lovely,” he sighed.

“May I be terribly and probably regretfully honest with you?”

***

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Xanatos said, allowing D to take his hands. After all, regrettable honesty was Xanatos’ favourite kind, so long as it wasn’t he who would come to regret it.

***

D very much regretted it already. Xanatos felt good and it had been so long since he could even remember anyone touching him or making him feel this way. He sighed, looking down briefly before bringing his gaze back to Xanatos.

“I would very much like to continue our tour,” he said. “And end it by tasting your lips, but…” Yes, there was that but. “I’m afraid my heart is elsewhere and the most I can allow myself to do is to taste your candy pearls. Er-” The Count may have flushed a little. That was not a statement that sounded good, but there it was anyway, if it wasn’t a slip of his tongue, so to speak.

“I hope that you’ll understand.”

***

Xanatos couldn’t help but break into a grin at the innuendo of ‘candy pearls,’ though he didn’t say anything about it. He knew which pearls D was speaking of, and there was no point in giving D a hard time about it.

Still, he wasn’t surprised by D’s confession; he just gave D’s hands a squeeze, and then released them. “I suspected as much,” he said. “How about you and I return to the party and to your pet detective, and I’ll let you have the first slice of cake?”

***

It was nonsense, even to the Count. Feelings of guilt when it came to the Detective. A man who hated him and wanted nothing less than to see him in cuffs.

Yet, in times of crisis, there was Leon, and truly Leon. Not just a Detective, someone who might, deep down, be good and decent. Those glimpses stopped D from going any further, allowing the release of their hands to symbolize the end of something that might have been more than friendship. D had no time for romance anyway.

D closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath, then opened his eyes again and nodded. “Thank you,” he said. “You’re very kind.” He was sure the Detective had gone off to drink somewhere, probably had gone home with a leggy blonde, but there was still Chris and Chris would be tired soon.

After cake, of course.