Dominic still remembered the night he met Vintersorg. He had a feeling that that night would be forever imprinted on his mind, no matter how old and senile he might get. There was just something about that one image, that one conversation, that one kiss, that he knew would stay with him forever, would make him stay forever. It was the night that he realized who he was, what he wanted, and who he belonged to. Who he would love.
Back then, Dominic was new to the town, new to Saitama. Sure, he had studied on Shima for years already, but he hadn't spent all that much time in the city itself. Now, fresh out of school and with a determination to never study another day in his life and to never go back to his family again, he had no idea what he was supposed to do with himself. Three days ago he had turned eighteen, so he was supposedly an adult now, in charge of himself. He could do whatever he wanted to, whenever he wanted, with whoever he wanted. And yet, he felt utterly trapped, more caged than he had ever felt while he had been at school, chained in by strict teachers and countless rules and regulations.
Now, with hardly any money, no place to live and not many possessions at all, Dominic wandered around the dark streets illuminated by neon lights - as far as he knew he was somewhere around where The Slums turned into The Plains, at least if the amounts of clubs and bars were something to count on. It seemed like the entertainment areas had been placed to attract the maximum amounts of customers. None of them would get much out of Dominic though, he had to save all the money he could, otherwise he'd be starving in a few days.
Still without having much of a plan, Dominic wandered into the nearest club, figuring that walking around all night wouldn't help him at all, so he might as well settle down somewhere and think while he had something to drink. More than once over the past few days he had thought and wished that there were someone with him who could tell him what to do, because making his own decisions all the time got tired really fast. All through his life there had always been someone there, ordering him around, telling him what to do, and even though he had always rebelled as much as possible against it, he was starting to miss it now.
There was a band playing, but in the beginning Dominic didn't pay too much attention to them - he had more than enough on his mind already. So he sat at the counter, sipping a cheap and tasteless beer, staring straight ahead of him. That was, until the band stopped playing abruptly and there was a slightly hoarse laughter before someone shouted; "Oy! You at the bar, show some fucking respect and listen to the music!"
Dominic didn't react at first because he couldn't even begin to imagine that he was the one being shouted at, but as the bartender gave him a little nudge, he realized that he was the only one sitting at the bar. He turned around to face the stage, and was greeted with a grin and two thumbs up before the band started playing again. For the rest of the time the band played, Dominic couldn't look away from the bass player, couldn't even begin to tear his eyes away from him.
It wasn't that he was particularly beautiful, because he wasn't. He looked a little too pale, a little too skinny, a little too tall. He looked like he didn't give a shit about what anyone else in the world thought about him. Even though the rest of the band stood out as well, the bass player was stunning - possibly because he had bright, neon pink hair. During his years in school, Dominic had seen a whole mass of things, hell, he had done a whole mass of strange things as well, but he had never been that far out there. The bass player was wearing an equally neon pink off-the-shoulder top with black skulls printed all over it, coupled with skinny black jeans and a pair of platform shoes that the best drag queen in the world would have struggled to wear.
Dominic shook his head, but he still kept staring, kept noticing more details. Like how the bass player's fingernails were painted black, how he had piercings in both ears, and more than one in each ear. How he seemed to have pink eyes as well (though Dominic was fairly sure if was just contacts). How he played the bass like he owned the entire world, like he would do whatever the fuck he wanted and damn anyone who thought he should reign himself in. he looked like he felt like the most famous rock star in the world, and the attitude showed. There was no doubt that Dominic found him fascinating, but he never thought that it'd be more than that - the guy seemed to be far out of Dominic's league. He was a poor student with no money, worn clothes and simple black and too long hair, without any piercings or tattoos or crazy clothes whatsoever. This was a world he was just visiting, not somewhere he belonged.
Or so he believed.
When the band finished their set and walked off stage, Dominic finally managed to turn back to his crappy beer, though his thoughts were still centered on the bass player. He had a feeling that the guy would torment his mind for quiet a while, even if he didn't know a single thing about him. The beer went straight to his head even if it wasn't strong, and he closed his eyes, bringing back the fresh memory of watching the band play.
"You’re not asleep, are you? 'Cause if we played so bad it couldn't even keep you awake, then it's time to switch bands," a slightly familiar voice said beside him, and Dominic opened his eyes to look at the bass player standing next to him. Up close he was even more stunning, and Dominic felt his cheeks flush - cursing himself quietly because he didn't really want to betray his age and be an awkward teenager right now. Not that he had any chance with this guy, but he didn't have to act like such an imbecile.
"I-I was just thinking," he replied, even more angry at himself for actually stuttering, something which he hadn't done in ten years. His annoyance over the way he was presenting himself sent him into a half nervous ramble, one that he didn't seem able to stop again. "You guys were really good, I definitely don't think that you should change bands, I---"
"Yeah, that's great. Lets get out of here, I want to take you home tonight," the guy said, cutting off Dominic's tirade efficiently - especially when he reached out and brushed back a few wayward strands of Dominic's hair. The shock of the statement made it impossible for Dominic to think of anything at all to say, but that didn't seem to be all that much of a problem for the bass player. "I'm Vintersorg, but you can call me Winter, I know it's easier. Now c'mon, get your ass off that barstool."
Dominic had a feeling that he should be protesting, that he should tell Winter to fuck off, but instead he merely nodded and got up, hoisting his bag onto his shoulder. Winter grinned at him and took his hand, tugging him outside, acting as if they had known each other for years. A few people gave them some looks, especially the dark-skinned singer of the band, but none of them said anything - as if they all already knew that it'd be pointless. Dominic had time to look Winter over (deciding once more that he was fucking beautiful in his own way) as they walked through countless streets, heading to some unknown destination. He probably should be afraid, but apart from a lingering sense of uneasiness he felt like he was doing the right thing.
"Don't worry, I’m not going to rape you or torture you. Unless you'd like me to," Vintersorg said with a wicked grin, and he stopped before pushing Dominic against the closest vertical surface (which happened to be a very uncomfortable fence). For a few moments all he did was to look at Dominic with a strange look in his eyes - if Dominic didn't know any better, he'd say that it was affection, but that couldn't be the case. They didn't know each other, after all. Winter raised his hand and trailed a couple of fingers over Dominic's cheek and lips, and Dominic felt himself blush again.
The kiss didn't come as a surprise, the way Winter was leaning over him, almost pressing against him and looking at him like that, made it obvious that he was going to kiss Dominic. It was far from a perfect kiss, with those shoes on Winter was far too tall, and Dominic felt so nervous that he shifted a second before Winter's lips pressed against his own, making their teeth clash together rather painfully. Dominic pulled back and started to apologize, but Vintersorg merely laughed and cupped Dominic's face in his hands before kissing him again, properly this time, keeping the kiss gentle and tender. Almost as if he wanted to comfort Dominic.
Dominic knew that his life had changed, just from that one kiss, and as they started to walk again, there was so many questions running through his mind. Who on earth was Winter, really? How old was he? What did he want? How come he could tell Dominic to come home with him and Dominic complied without protesting? Why did this guy affect him so much? Why was he so willing? Where was Winter really taking him? What was going to happen next? What would he do tomorrow? Did Winter actually like him, or was this just a one-night stand? was this right? Should he really be doing this?
And yet, when Vintersorg turned around and grinned at Dominic like he had all the answers in the world, Dominic knew that he'd follow this man for as long as he possibly could.
~fin~
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