Lover Mine
by Keely Wolfe

Rating: Explicit
Pairing:Lacroix/m

This is my first erotic Fan-Fic so please be nice. Virtual chocolates ect. To Keelywolfe@aol.com Thanx

Disclaimer: I don't know who Lacroix and the rest of the gang belong to, but it isn't me, I don't mean to infringe any copyright I just want to play for a while:) I give permission for JADFE to post this story, but anyone else had to ask first.

Cold. I'm very cold. I pull my coat tighter around me and try not to shiver. The subway rumbles on and I just sit there, trying not to think. *the warm salty taste of blood in my mouth boots hitting my ribs* or at least if I do think I try to remember the bad. I rest my head on my arms, flinching as I accidentally brush the bruise on my face. *Blinding hot light, has my eye exploded? no i can see please no more please.* The train grumbles to a halt. I look up briefly, panicking as I hear someone get on. Please, not him, please don't let it be him.

A man in a black trenchcoat gets on. Barely aware that I am staring, I drink in the look of him with my eyes. Tall, with very short blond hair. Even with our distance, I can see his eyes are icy blue. I let my eyes travel down his body, his coat is open but I can't see much, he is dressed all in black. When I look up again, he is staring at me, one eyebrow raised in a slightly mocking manner. Abruptly I am aware of my stained coat and jeans, my grungy shoes. I bury my face into my arms again, nearly gasping in pain as I brush against forgotten wounds. And try not to think.

Try not to remember how it felt, when he hit me again. Better to think of that though. Better than accidentally remembering the good times, *my eyesight seems so clear, i can see strands of blond hair entwined in his fingers, his fingers are rust colored, how strange i think blood thatsbloodmyblood,* because I know if I remember the good times I'll end up on a porch downtown with a stupid apology running out of me like diarrhea and ..and someone is touching my back, gently, soothing....

I look up, startled. Its him, the man in the coat. His face is only inches from mine.

"Who did this to you,". I close my eyes, his voice was a soft rasp, like silk being dragged across velvet. His hands drift across my bruised ribs and I jump, a sound of pain escaping my lips.

"Hmmmmm?". He looks at me, expectantly. I wet my lips nervously, tasting copper as my tongue brushes a cut. His eyes follow the movement of my tongue, was that gold I saw in his eyes?

"My boyfriend," I grimace slightly at the sound of my voice, weak and scared. He nods and smiles slightly. He ran his fingers through my hair, pulling slightly at tangles. The train rattles to a stop again.

"Come with me,". He stood, not looking back, not waiting. I follow. I don't know why, maybe it was because he was so beautiful, he moves silently off the train. And I follow him.

We walked through the city that night. Through dark parts of town, where I had never been , where there were only the homeless and few of those as well. We walked and I spoke. I told him about my life, about my boyfriend, about the beating. He was quiet throughout, not judging, not condemning, just listening. I told him how my parents had thrown me out, calling me a sinner and telling me I was damned. He smiled ever so faintly at that, but never spoke. He felt like someone I could tell anything to, say anything and he would still love me. Because he knew the real me. Like he was my oldest and dearest friend.

We ended up in a park that I had never been to before. I had told him everything, all my life, like a giant dam had broken inside me and released a flood of words. And finally I had said it all and I was silent. He looks at me, and touches my face, skimming over the signs of abuse. And softly, so softly, he kisses me, careful of my bruised mouth, his tongue invading, dancing with mine. I respond, nervously at first and then ... and then it felt *right*, it felt as if he had held me in his arms for a thousand years. His hands drifted down my back, rubbing in slow circles, down to my buttocks, kneading away the stiffness, the pain. His mouth fell from mine, and moved down my neck. I don't remember falling to the ground, but we were there, his hand moving to the front of my body rubbing my erection as ran my hands over his body His skin is cool as marble, firm with muscle. I unbutton his shirt and feel the hard paleness of his skin. He makes a harsh sound of pleasure. I feel him undo the buttons on my jeans, his hands inside them now, cupping the heat of my balls in the coolness of his hand. I gasp as he grasps my erection, massaging it firmly. His mouth is moving on my neck , I moan louder now, I can feel the heat of the coming explosion and...Pain!

I come hard, feel the warmth of my semen on my stomach and dimly I feel his mouth on my neck sucking hard. The flash of pain when he bit me is gone, now there is only warm heat, strange images floating before my eyes, heat and pleasure, surely I will die of this pleasure, must die from it and I seek my death with open arms and...and...then it is gone.

I lay on the ground gasping for breath, sticky with my own come and blood. I can feel the cold seeping up from the soil penetrating my coat. Awkwardly, I rearrange my clothes and sit up. He is standing a few feet away, staring at the moon.

"Why...", I start and choke on the word, I can feel the warmth of my blood trickling down my neck. He looks over his shoulder at me, then back at the moon.

"Why what? Why did I listen to you, walk with you?". He turns and faces me, then crouches down beside me. "Maybe, for the first time, in longer than I can remember, I wanted to do something for someone." He shrugged, "Maybe I wanted to pretend that I was human again, if only for a very short while." He stood then and smiled, touches my hair and tugs none-to-gently on the blond curls. "Maybe you just remind me of someone I know." He starts to walk away, then turns and faces me again. "Don't go home until tomorrow night. I have some business to take care of." He smiles again, flashing golden eyes and sharp fangs and then he was just...gone.

I stumble to my feet and collapse on a bench. I just sit there, too stunned, too weak to move. I sat and watch the sun rise. It was beautiful, a painting that the gods remixed every morning. That morning I watched it in awe, knowing that one way or another it would be my last sunrise. I sat on that bench, and for the first time in a very long time, I wasn't cold. I sat and waited for my lover.