Update before I leave you all

[maderr]

First up! The Fluff Challenge is a go. Come write and play with us!

Next, stories!

Part II, Chapter 8 is up for Grave

A new short story has been added, Handcuffs (Will also post it here, after the updates)

What else was there? Oh yeah. ^_~

Chapter 15 and the epilogue are up for Rainbow, as well as a new Chris/Regan story, written as a commission for the wonderful skylark97 and which she was kind enough to allow me to post for all of you to read. They can also be found at storyrainbow. Aaand if you liked Rainbow, I have the prologue and first chapter up for Xavier's story at storyparadise (and on the website).

Wanted to have more Embrace, but the story is being difficult >_< I should have it shortly after I return, I hope. Along with a slew of greek god stories to type up. Oh - also added Lost & Found and Kissing Death to the site (since Death didn't make the final cut for the yaoicon anthology).

Enjoy, see you in a week! Write fluff!

*~*~*

Handcuffs

"Ah...um…ex-excuse me. You...um…you dropped your handcuffs."

Owen turned around at the sound of the soft, shy voice that stood out simply because it was so quiet in a building full of noise. He blinked, absently stretching out his hand to accept the handcuffs. "Thanks." The boy looked about his own age - seventeen - but was distinctly out of place in an area that was usually dominated by the 'rougher' youths in the area. Instead of the blacks, reds, and metal of the rest of the crowd, the stranger was dressed entirely in soft blues and greens. Even his hair was unaltered; just messy blond curls flopping around his face. Owen was intrigued.

"You're welcome," the soft man smiled hesitantly, then turned and vanished into the crowd before Owen could think to stop him.

Frowning at his own idiocy he shrugged and turned back to his friends, "So have we decided what we're doing the rest of the night?"

"Yeah, we're going to the Spark." A man covered in more chains than cloth answered him.

"Mack, we're not old enough to get into that club. You know that. Why don't we just go see a movie or something?" His tone was sharper than necessary but Owen realized he didn't care. He was getting fed up with it. They went through this game every single time they went out, and he was reaching the point he didn't want to do it anymore.

His friends were clearly getting fed up with him. A girl in tight leather and shredded lace glared at him, "Because that's boring. We came out tonight to party, not to go see a fucking movie. What's with you lately, Owen? Lately you're nothing but a damned killjoy."

"Fine. Then I'll leave. I didn't really want to come out tonight anyway." Turning on the heel of his heavy boot, Owen threw himself into the crowd in an effort to get lost as quickly as possible. He ignored the wails of protest, picking up his pace as the crowd thinned so his friends wouldn't catch him. "They can find another ride, too." Angrily he clomped through the parking garage, fumbling through half a dozen pockets before coming up with his keys.

He realized he was still gripping the handcuffs in his left hand and suddenly recalled the boy who'd returned them. "Wish I'd gotten his name at least. Not that he really looked like I would be his type. Fuck it." Shoving the cuffs into one of his numerous pockets he clicked his seatbelt into place and slowly negotiated his way out of the parking garage.

Once on the highway he thumbed the buttons to roll all the windows down, stubbornly refusing to turn on the radio or cd player, knowing both would result in the music that of late he'd only found harsh and grating. With a half snarl he unfastened the spiked collar around his neck and carefully removed most of the heavy jewelry on his arms and wrists. His faux piercings were the next to go, leaving only one silver stud in each ear - the only piercing he'd really wanted and that his mother would let him get away with.

At last more or less content he settled down, soothed by the familiar sounds of speeding cars and rushing wind. He let out an aggravated string of curses when his cell phone went off and stubbornly ignored its ringing in the pocket nearest his left knee. Conceding defeat when it kept going off he at last awkwardly dug it out and glanced hastily at the number, muttering a few more curses before tossing it beside it into the pile of discarded jewelry. "Find another ride, assholes. I'm sure you can find someone who's not a killjoy at your fucking club."

Still glaring at the friends he'd left behind Owen took the exit leading home and almost absently drove down the long, winding streets of his neighborhood. With a tired sigh he pulled into his driveway, flicking a brief glance at his watch as he climbed from the car. "It's only eight? Mom's going to think I've lost my damn mind." He made a face, "She'll probably make me go back and get them too." Resigned he slammed the car door and trudged slowly toward the house.

His mother's voice reached him just as the kitchen door closed behind him, "Sweetie? Is that you?"

"Yeah, it's me mom."

His mom appeared in the kitchen doorway, face pinched with confusion and worry. "Is everything okay? What are you doing home so soon?" She glanced at the clock over the table, "You've barely been gone two hours. What's wrong?"

"I just didn't feel like putting up with them tonight. They want to go to that stupid club and bit my damned head off when I suggested we go see a movie." Grimacing he dropped his keys and jewelry on the counter and let his mom embrace him.

Kelly held her son out at shoulder's length to examine him, then pulled him back for a second hug, stroking his gelled hair a few moments. Releasing him, she smiled, "There, that's enough maternal torture. Now, let's have it. I thought you wanted to go out with your friends tonight. You even got all - do you call this 'Goth' thing dressing up?"

Owen groaned in frustration. "It’s not Goth. It's not punk. It's just stupid. I'm tired of it, f--really tired of it. I don't know what's wrong. God forbid we see a damn - darn - movie and not go to one those stupid clubs for the millionth time. And we're not even old enough for the Spark!" "I don't know what's wrong. I just know I'm tired of doing the same old stupid things all the time."

Stroking his hair again, Kelly murmured soothingly as she began to move around the kitchen. "Sit down and relax, sweetie. I'll make you something to drink and we can work this out. Lately you've come home unhappy every night. I think maybe it's time you did something about it, once and for all."

"Yeah…" Owen slumped into a seat at the table, staring gloomily at the wall. A few minutes later his mom set a mug of hot chocolate in front of him.

Sitting down directly across from him, her own mug set just to the side, she clasped her hands together and propped them on the table. "Now, what exactly is upsetting you?"

"I'm just tired of this." He motioned at his dark, metal bedecked clothing. "But whenever I try to say that, I'm told to stop whining or something. I'm tired of the dancing and the noise and the concerts. No one else is, so I'm left on my own which makes me the bad guy."

Kelly bit her lip, slow to respond. "I think maybe you should work on finding new friends, Owen." She held up a hand when he started to speak, "I know that's not what you want to hear, but if they refuse to listen to what you say then I don't think that they're the friends you think they are."

"But…"

Her expression turned stern, "Maybe trying something else on your own for a bit will make it clear to them you want something different. And if they can't accept that, it means they really aren't your friends. I never had a problem with them before, Ow, but if they're the reason you come home this unhappy then I do have a problem."

"Yes, ma'am." Owen focused his attention on his hot chocolate.

His mother tapped her nails against the side of her mug, "Why don't you come with me tomorrow? To the fair?"

"Aw, mom…" Owen grimaced.

"None of that. I know you don't like these 'old lady craft things' I go to, but it would be completely different, and you definitely won't run into anyone you know. And maybe afterwards we'll go out to dinner and a movie?"

Owen was silent for a long minute, finishing the contents of his mug. He set it down and smiled, "Sure, mom. What time do I have to be ready?"

"We'll leave here about nine, I think. Heck, you gave in so easy maybe I'll treat you to breakfast too. On your own for lunch though, I'll be busy working."

"Sure thing. I'm going to go chill in my room then." He reached across the table and pecked her cheek. "Night mom. You're the best."

Briefly Owen considered calling his friends, to see if they still needed a ride. He really shouldn't have just left them hanging…but they shouldn't have been asses. "Screw it," he set his phone on his desk and began emptying his numerous pockets.

He paused when he grabbed hold of the handcuffs, recalling floppy blonde curls and a shy smile. "Really should've have gotten his name at least. Wonder what he was doing there, anyway. Didn't look like his kind of scene." Shrugging he put the handcuffs on the desk and quickly stripped off his cumbersome clothing and exchanged it for soft cotton pants and shirt.

Grabbing the remote he flicked on the TV and settled onto his bed, shifting his attention between various TV movies and a fantasy book he'd slowly been making his way through, until he finally nodded off about midnight.

*~*~*

"See? This won't be so bad."

"Says you," Own said with a grin. "My reputation is going to be ruined if people find out I spent the day at a craft fair."

His mom smiled back, "Isn't that what you wanted?"

"That's beside the point."

"Ah, I see. Grab that box for me, would you?"

"Sure thing." Hefting the box in question up, Owen trailed close behind his mom as they wove their way through the crowd of sellers setting up their booths.

Kelly stopped in front of an old, graying, overweight man. "Hey, Bobby."

"Kelly…and what is this? How did you get him here?" He frowned at Owen, "What sort of trouble you been you to, boy?" He winked.

Owen grinned again, "Oh, lots. I'm a regular terror."

"That's my boy. You here to help your mom today?"

"Yes, sir."

His mom negated the statement, "Phooey. He's just here for a break. Bobby is the only help I need. However you can both stop yammering and Owen, you can at least help me set up. The pottery goes on that side," she pointed to the left half of her large booth, "And the rest of it can go on this side. Hop to it."

"Yes ma'am."

They'd only just finished when the doors opened and customers began trickling in. His mother gave him a distracted peck, and gently shoved him into the crowd, "Go, wander, have fun. Here's some money for lunch, and in case you want to buy anything."

Snickering Owen kissed her back, accepted the money, and vanished.

The 'craft fair' was really just a large bazaar that gave various small businesses a chance to show off their wares. Anything from small pottery companies to local bakeries to small jewelry makers. All kinds of stuff. "And definitely not my usual scene. This is great," he muttered to himself as he walked. The bakery booths kept tempting him, especially the one that was making some sort of chocolate-chip bread.

After his third pass, he caved and bought a loaf. He'd devoured half of it before he finished completing the large circuit of booths, and forced himself to stow the remaining half in the small messenger bag he took with him everywhere.

Grabbing a coke at a nearby stand, he began to trek through the second half of booths.

He paused at one full of silver jewelry. What appealed was the lack of leather, and spikes and heavy chains. It was all delicate…okay, pretty stuff. But some of it wasn't half bad. And he had plenty of his own money to spend.

The seahorse really caught his eye; it was a really nice one, not chintzy looking like the ones in the souvenir shop when his mom and he went to the beach a few years back. He loved the seahorses in the exhibit…even though he'd told his friends the sharks were the coolest.

Hopefully it wouldn't cost that much…Owen looked up at a flash of movement, hoping to ask the price - and gaped in surprise. "You! From last night!"

Floppy blonde curls framed a face that was rapidly turning bright red, as the stranger gaped back. "What are you? You look different--" he clapped a hand over his mouth, face turning even redder.

Owen blinked, a bit confused. "Umm…"

I’m sorry," the young man shook his head, face cooling slowly to a faint pink. "I'm an idiot." He managed a weak smile, "I was surprised to see you here. Didn't seem your sort of place. And you look really different in…umm…"

Owen grinned, "In normal clothes?" He looked at his blue jeans and red t-shirt. "I guess I do look sort of weird." His brow furrowed, "But do I know you? I remember you from last night - thanks for returning the 'cuffs."

"Ah, sure. And no…I've just seen you around school, is all."

"Really? Are you a junior, too? How come I've never seen you before?"

The stranger didn't reply immediately, looking uncomfortable.

Owen wanted to smack himself, "What's your name? Let's start there. I'm Owen Donaldson. " He held out his hand.

"Paul Winders," the blonde shook his hand, smiling again. "And we're in study hall together."

"We are?" Owen frowned. "Actually, that doesn't surprise me. I make a point to ignore everyone and everything in that class." It had become his refuge during the day, the past few months. Otherwise he was always surrounded by his friends. "So are you working here?"

"What? Oh, yeah. Yeah, I am. My sister snuck off for an extended break," his expression darkened a moment. "Did you want something?"

"Yeah. How much for this seahorse?"

Paul blinked, then looked down. "You like the seahorse?"

"Should I not?"

"Oh, no!" his face went scarlet again, "Sorry! It's just," he smiled sheepishly. "I made that one. I'm still learning, really. But my aunt said I did all right with this and a few others, so she's letting me sell them with her stuff today."

Owen smiled, "Cool. So how much?"

"Thirty-five, forty-five if you want the chain as well."

"That works." Grabbing his wallet from his back pocket Owen handed over forty-five. "So when is your sister getting back?"

Still beaming over the sale, Paul replied, "Carol? She should be back soon." He glared briefly in the direction she'd wandered off in. "If not, I'm going to be annoyed."

"Oh, shush. I'm back." The sister in question appeared from behind them, smirking delightedly when her brother jumped. "Oh, who is this? No wonder you're so impatient. Well, get. I can handle this now."

Paul looked at her, "Get where? I just wanted you to stop slacking off."

"Go. Get. Lunch." She said slowly, as if he were an idiot.

Laughing Owen accepted his newly bought necklace and used his head to indicated the food court, "Want to go grab a bite? I was just about eat myself."

"Huh? Um, okay."

"Cool." Fastening his new necklace around his throat, Owen grinned and then led the way to the food court. "Anything in particular you want?"

"No…anything is fine."

"Sure? Hotdogs all right?"

"That's fine." In silence the two got their food and found a table in the makeshift dining hall, settling into plastic chairs that barely looked capable of bearing their weight.

"What were doing at the plaza last night? Didn't seem your kind of place."

Paul shrugged, "My sister likes one of the restaurants there. We were leaving when I saw you drop your handcuffs..."

"I see." That explained that, rather ordinary. Owen changed the subject, "So what other classes do you take? I wonder why I never noticed you before."

Paul looked at him oddly, "Why would you?"

"Because you're cute."

Sputtering and chocking overtook Paul, and he barely managed to put his drink on the table, rather than the floor. "What?"

Owen hesitated, "Ah…did I read you wrong? I thought…"

"No!" he turned beat red again, "You're right…I was just surprised. I'm…ah…not really your type."

Confident again, Owen grinned. "Definitely my type. I just wasn't sure I was your type."

Paul looked shyly away, "Yeah…but you definitely seemed a different crowd." He managed to look at him, "That's why I was so surprised to see you here."

"I've been looking for a change."

"Ah."

Cheerfully Owen asked, "So what are you doing after this is over?"

"Umm…I guess we're going to just eat and go home."

"Cool. Then would you like to go with my mom and me to get dinner and go see a movie?"

Paul frowned, "I dunno…won't she be made you're dragging a stranger along?"

"Nah, I do it all the time. You're a friend from school, right?" Owen winked. "And your sister can come too, if she wants. I didn't mean just you."

"I'll ask," Paul said.

"Cool. C'mon, we'll go ask my mom now."

Paul looked overwhelmed, "You really move fast."

"My mom says I need to learn to be patient. But I prefer to just get stuff done, you know? Besides," he grabbed Paul's hand and pulled him to his feet, "I was disappointed I didn't talk to you last night. Don't want to miss my chance this time." He winked again. "Though I guess I would've seen you in study hall."

"Ah…"

Laughing Owen let go of his hand and led the way through the crowd, calling a greeting when he reached his mother's booth. "Hey mom!"

"Hey, sweetie. How do you like the fair?"

Owen kissed her cheek, and his mom beamed. "It's been great. Look at what I bought," he indicated his necklace.

"Oh, very nice." She smiled fondly, looking at the silver seahorse. "We should go there again."

"That'd be cool. But hey - I bought it from a classmate. Paul here."

His mother looked at him, worry creasing her face.

"Oh, no. Not one of my usual crows, mom."

She nodded and finally examined Paul, instantly enchanted by the quiet boy. "So you know Owen from school?"

"Yes, ma'am. We have study hall together."

"I see," she winked, and the resemblance between mother and son was strong, "So how often does he take naps in that class?"

"Mom!"

Paul laughed, "None so far."

"Well, that's good to know. And you made the seahorse?

"Yes, ma'am."

She laughed, "None of that, now. IT makes me sound old. Kelly is fine, dear."

Owen shifted impatiently. "So mom, I was wondering if he and his sister could go with us tonight?"

A knowing look overtook her face, and she smiled in tolerant affection. "Of course, that's fine. Just so long as his parents don't mind."

"Oh, no. My sister mostly takes care of me. And my grandparents won't mind."

Kelly just nodded, "Very well, then. If you're sister doesn't object, we would love to have you for company this evening. So what are you boys up to now?"

"I'd actually get back to work," Paul said reluctantly. "My sister will kill me if I'm gone much longer."

"Well, we can't have that if you're planning on coming with us. Get, both of you. Ow, there are some things I wanted you to get at a few of the booths." She jotted down what she wanted and handed him the list, along with more money, then shooed them both away.

Back at Paul's booth, his sister just grinned knowingly and promptly agreed. "I could use a night out with new faces. I love my friends dearly, but sometimes something new is appreciated. Shall we meet up outside, say…seven o'clock? That should give us time to pack up and load up."

"Sure, I'll let my mom know."

Carol nodded, then looked at her brother. "Back to work, scamp. No more slacking."

"You were slacking first!"

"I'm older. I’m allowed to slack."

"Whatever."

Laughing, Owen waved and was gone. "Heh, wonder what they'll say about this at school tomorrow."

*~*~*

"So are you over your pissy fit now?" A sharp voice broke Owen's idle reverie.

He sighed and closed his locker with a metallic clunk. "Isn't that supposed to be 'hissy fit' Sherry?"

"No, I meant pissy." She was wearing less leather than she had been on Saturday night, but a lot more shredded lace. She'd always been overly fond of the stuff.

Owen sighed, "Well, I'm not mad at you guys anymore." He settled his book bag, "But I'm not not mad either. I'm tired of being shot down whenever you guys don't like what I want to do."

"Yeah, well at least we don't leave you stranded."

"Don't even start with me. I know damn good and well you were able to find a ride. Anyway, you're not dead."

That earned him another glare. But then Sherry abruptly stopped glaring and shrugged, crossing her arms. "Yeah, we did all right. Wasn't the same without you though." She smiled ruefully, "None of the others can dance as well as you."

"Hope they didn't hurt your feet too much. But where did you go?"

She shrugged again, "We ran into Mack's cousin, wound up going to a party at his house."

Owen barely managed to avoid grimacing. Mack's cousin was not the greatest creature ever to walk the earth. He'd encountered better scum in the locker room showers. "Sorry I missed it."

"You shouldn't be," Sherry smiled again. "I think maybe you had the right idea with a movie. So…I'm sorry I bit your head off."

"Sorry I stormed off."

"Forget about it. I'm sure by lunch the others will have. So what did you do all weekend, while you were ignoring us?"

Owen grinned, making Sherry very curious. "Let's just say my study hall suddenly got a lot more interesting."

"What?"

"Hey Ow!"

Sherry smirked, "Looks like they decided not to wait 'til lunch.

"Great," Owen muttered before his friends were upon them. "Hey Mack. Ben."

"The deserter returns to face his sentence."

Owen rolled his eyes, "Oh, whatever."

"You look weird man. What are you doing, sucking up to some teacher?"

"The hell?" Owen glared at him. "I do not look weird." So he wasn't as decked out as he usually was. But he was still in all black. And he had some of his jewelry on. Okay, two pieces - a stud in his ear, and the handcuffs worn like a bracelet on his left wrist. And his seahorse, which he knew he was going to catch hell for. Nothing for it, really.

Sherry laughed, "Nah, I think he's sucking up for someone else."

"I am not sucking up!"

Mack snorted, "Sure, whatever. That necklace is very pretty, by the way. Cute even."

"Mack, shut the hell up." He turned away to head for homeroom, grumbling as the teasing continued. At the end of the hall, right outside the classroom door, he stopped.

Ben and Mack crashed into him from behind, nearly knocking him over. "Would you clowns watch it?"

"Would you not stop in the middle of the doorway?" Ben groused, rubbing his nose. "What the hell do you have in that bag, anyway?"

"Bricks. And my math book." Owen answered absently, his attention already elsewhere. "Hey."

"Good morning." Paul smiled shyly.

Mack snickered, "So that's who he's dressed all normal for."

"Shut up, Mack" Sherry raised her fist in warning.

"Okay, okay. Who's Blondie, Ow?"

Ben answered, "I know him." He shook his head, blinking owlishly as he stared at Paul. "I mean - I know you. You're in my biology class. Paul, right?"

"Yeah."

Sherry smiled, "So when did you two meet?"

"My mom dragged me to her craft fair on Sunday. We met there."

His three friends started laughing. Mack shook his head, "Craft fair? And now you're wearing a seahorse? Oh man, you're just asking for it."

"I'm going to kill you." Making a face, Owen pointedly turned away and beckoned Paul close. "They're always like this. It's best to ignore them."

"Correction," Ben pointed at Owen, "We're always like this with you. We're nice to everyone else. It's never smart to be mean to the smart ones in your science class. Especially when you have Satan teaching it."

Paul let out a surprise laugh at that. "She's not that bad!"

"Yes, she is." Ben said wisely. His face took on a mock-sly look. "So now that you're with Ow, does that mean I can copy your notes."

"Ben!"

"Okay, okay. Then you borrow his notes, and I'll just 'borrow' them from you."

Owen sighed.

"So now that you're dating one of the straight and narrow, does that mean you're going to ignore us completely?"

"If you'd just listened to me in the first place, Mack, I wouldn't have stormed off on Saturday."

Mack rolled his eyes, "Okay, okay. Maybe we were a little impatient. If you're tired of doing that scene, just tell us before we get there. Anyway, after my cousin's party I'm not sure I want to do that scene for awhile myself." He peered at Paul, "So are you two a thing now? Or is he just using you to become a polo-wearing good boy?"

Paul fingered the collar of his own polo shirt and turned red.

"Mack, if you don't shut the hell up I'm going to be suspended for beating you to a bloody pulp."

Holding up his hands in a placating manner, Mack just grinned. "Answer the question. Because if you are a thing I can harass him. If not, then I have to be nice until you're a thing."

"Yes, we're a 'thing.' Now will you shut up?"

Sherry laughed, "He never shuts up, you know that." She nudged Paul, "Maybe you should teach Mack some manners while you're with us, Straight and Narrow."

A bit bewildered, Paul just smiled and shook his head.

"Lunch suddenly seems a lot more interesting. Unless you two are going to stare into each other's eyes like you're trying to do now."

"Mack!"

The bell signaling the start of homeroom saved Mack from a beating.

Comments

[jadis31.livejournal.com]

I can't tell you how amazed and happy I was to see the updates last night. I was on your site, reading something else.... went back to the home page and saw Rainbow was bold. My jaw dropped. My plans for sleep evaporated. I was up all damn night, thanks to you. Ohhh... it was glorious. Thank you and have a great trip. please bring some new Embraced back with you. fuck the traditional vacation gifts, I want vampires!

Love and Worship,
Jo

[skylark97.livejournal.com]

Aaand if you liked Rainbow, I have the prologue and first chapter up for Xavier's story at [info]storyparadise (and on the website).

*squeals happily*

"It’s not Goth. It's not punk. It's just stupid.

It's so cute. ^-^ I loved that he was still struggling to find a scene and a niche where he fit in, and I love the way he's bickering with his friends over it.

And Paul! What a sweetie. :3 I love that Owen is all, 'I see something I like, I go after it', and Paul is just kind of bewildered by the attention.

"So are you two a thing now? Or is he just using you to become a polo-wearing good boy?"

Paul fingered the collar of his own polo shirt and turned red.

"Mack, if you don't shut the hell up I'm going to be suspended for beating you to a bloody pulp."

*dies laughing* I love how this all plays out with Owen's friends, and I love the way that it ends. Gyah! *glomps you* The dialogue rocks, and I love the way Ben and Mack just aggravate the heck out of Owen there at the end. *snickers* Guys.

Dude, you so rock. *tackle glomps*

SEX MACHINE

[mashoogina.livejournal.com]

Okay, all I saw of that was "HANDCUFFS" in bold, right after I typed "SEX MACHINE" to Lucas... I think I need to *cough*gotobed*cough*

BWHAHAHAHAHAH!!!!

:)

Re: SEX MACHINE

[maderr.livejournal.com]

WANKER