Ageless by Mel I (Dominic's POV) Won't you take me by the hand? Take me somewhere new, I don't know who you are but I, I'm with you. ---Avril Lavigne The day has always been an amazing thing to me. I guess it's cause I always thought I spent most of my life in shadows. Not true of course, I see the dawn just the same as everyone else does. I walk in sunlight, go to the beach to get a tan. It's at night, about three days a month, that things change. But other then those three nights, I'm perfectly normal. A young German-born British lad spending some time in America, working my sorry butt off. I wanted to travel a little before I started Collage back home. That' s a good seven years ago now. As you can tell I'm not one for following through with my ideas. I've spent a little time everywhere around the world, doing just about anything that would see me to my next destination. I'm happy where I am right now. I'm living with three other blokes somewhere in Ohio, working at the local bookstore. She's not the best paying job in the world, but I've had a whole lot worse, and I've always been a collector of books. I've read everything on their shelves a number of times. I think I'll be a writer one day, I can certainly babble enough shit. One of the boys I'm living with thinks I'd be great writer. His name's Elijah Wood, we call him Doddle for short, and you'd best not ask why. He's the youngest of the four of us, this is his first 'shared house' and he's adorable. For a potty-mouthed, chain smoking, nail biting geek. He's not all bad I guess, he certainly knows how to party, as all good collage students do. He couldn't afford the campus cost and as such found this place, almost directly across from the collage he goes to. I wasn't lying when I said he was adorable either. Because the kid's absolutely beautiful. He's got these big blue eyes, dark curls, full lips and creamy skin. He's short as, which only adds to his blasted pixie like appearance. And boy does he know how to use his looks to the fullest, I guess that's how he's got this far in life. The amount of times I've seen him get out of God knows what. He's quick too, runs fast when he's in shit, and nimble. But you'd expect that from Elijah's kind, they're all quick and graceful. Then there's Billy Boyd. We met the Scotsman about a year ago, hitch hiking across this great land. Billy's the oldest, he finished his Science Degree, with honours, a while ago. He's been everywhere too, the main circumference of his living was in North Africa, Egypt and a little of Turkey. Billy is an amazing archaeologist. He works for the museum here and rakes in the most money, understandable with all the fieldwork he's done. His accent is still as rich as it was when he left his homeland, makes the ladies swoon around here. The laughing green eyes and wicked smile help none, and he's a natural flirt. If it's got legs and a heartbeat, Billy's all for it, and the heartbeat's defiantly optional. He keeps away from Elijah though, it's hard to be lovers with a born predator. And Billy's got some morals, 'you just don't sleep with your mates' he's told me a number of times. 'Your mate's brothers are an entirely different matter'. It's understandable that Elijah doesn't bring his family here. Orlando Bloom is the fourth member of our little band. Orli and I met five years ago, in Berlin whilst I was visiting family. He was my age, though at the time you couldn't tell. He was thin as a rake, his now long dark hair shaved from his head back then. I saw him first on a street corner, wearing leather pants and little else. There was a collar around his neck, the mark of the bound. He was little more then a prostitute, a seller of his body to my mother's kind. I am sad to say I looked over him that first time, and other then a flash of distaste, I had forgotten him. It wasn't until I found him bruised and beaten on the rainy street later that very same night that I began to feel for him. At first he was scared of me, he'd obviously had enough for one night, and tried to get me to leave. He resorted to unzipping my pants and probably would have given me the blowjob of my life if I hadn't picked him up. I slung him over one shoulder and took him back to my one room apartment. I gave him the bed and took the floor. I spent the next three days caring for the taller man, bathing his wounds, and nursing him back to health. He tried numerous times to repay me in the only way he knew how, to seduce me. It was hard to resist him, with every moment that went past he was more and more beautiful. And Orli knew which buttons to push, his talent obvious with those sweet, full lips. But I'm stubborn, anyone would tell you that, and I ignored every advance he made on me. I told him constantly that he was better then this, that I saw the way he looked at my collection of books with interest. He is a natural artist my dear Orli is. And he's a demon with a musical instrument to his lips. It was I who got him a gig in a band down the road, his first proper job. It was I who unlocked the collar from his neck, who told him he would never need it again. He did well with the band, and they wanted to go on tour. I was sad, but also itching to go elsewhere, Austria was just down the road and someone had said they were looking for a bookkeeper in the south. I was all ready to say my goodbyes to my new friend when he came home that night. He took one look at me and said he was not going to leave me, that he'd follow me anywhere. I fought furiously with him. I didn't want him to waste his talent on a wretch like me. But he would not listen and followed me anyway. It was a year later, while we were still in Austria that we got together. Orli and I have been lovers ever since. And now, with the two of us at the tender age of 25, we reside happily in Ohio, America. Orli works for the pub down the road, playing every second night, and often helps out with any bands that come through. I still don't what he's doing with me. I'm nothing special you see. My parents still live in marital bliss in England. I call them every month to let them know I'm still alive but they' re happy to let me go on my own. My mom's a shrink, of all things, and dad' s a teacher. They seem content to let me find my own way in life and haven' t tried to pressure me into anything. They love Orli, having met him after we got together, and are happy with their son's homosexuality it seems. I'm a lot shorter then Orli, but taller then Elijah, thank God. A little stocky, but I'm not fat. I eat a lot of shit, whatever's easiest, which is usually pies or baked beans. Comes from having a high metabolism I suppose. I'm scruffy, I always look like I've just woken up and my clothes are a size to big for me because I simply can't be bothered buying new clothes. I have dark, short hair, and I let Billy bleach my tips a few weeks ago, 'for science' apparently. Grey eyes, speckled with violet, curtesy of my mother. Orli loves 'em, but I don't see what's so great about them. I don't have any brothers or sisters. No life long friends, aside from Orli. I've always been a bit of a drifter, dad says I get that from his brother who couldn't stay in one place for longer then a few months. Even though some of the time I come off as a bit of a backpacking bum, I've worked hard. I've done almost every job imaginable, aside from the illegal kind. I keep my noes clean, I make an attempt to get along with everyone. Thankfully there isn't a great deal of enforcement in this small place. You see, there's something I haven't mentioned yet. You look at the four of us and you see four young, ordinary guys. You know, the kind with hormones, who stay up all hours watching the Dracula Marathon on cable. Elijah drags us to the newest Star Trek movies and we pull him, kicking and screaming, to a Horror movie. Normal. Easy. Just four guys living together, right? Not quite. You see, if you look close enough, you can see things that shouldn't be there. Elijah's just a little *too* quick. Billy's eyes see a little *too* much. Orli's hands work *too* many wonders. And my eyes shine like an animals when caught in the light. If you look closely enough, we're not quite human. Elijah isn't like the rest of the collage students around here. He is the wayward son of an important man in our world. He goes here against that old man's wishes but with his mother's love. His father is one of the first-born vampires. They're not quite what you've seen in Dracula. Elijah was born a Vampire. He grows as a human does. He can age as he wishes, but he never will die, unless someone wants him too. He lives in sunlight, as much as night. His senses are keener then any mortals, and a Vampires mind powers are amazing, Elijah's are better. He has spent a long time perfecting them so his father cannot find him. Billy has no parents, they passed away somewhat peacefully a long time ago. He is the last left of his family, of his tribe. Billy is a shape shifter, the last kind who can turn into a bird known as a Kestrel. Every so often Billy will disappear for one single purpose, to fly. To rise above the rooftops, to sore in the sky. The shape shifters are the oldest of all the races, and as such have a dark history. They use to be known as Dragons, and were not restricted to a single form as the shape shifters of today are. They could change into anything, or anyone, that they wished back then. Now only the ruling class gets to make the decision of what they turn into and that's only once. Billy is part of a proud and fallen race, fallen due to the rise of the witches. Many of the shape shifters are good at holding age-old grudges, but Billy is of the one thought; 'we were getting too big for our boots anyhow, glad someone decided to nip us in the butt before we destroyed ourselves'. Billy's dated more then a few witches, says they're wicked with their tongues. It's the truth, and I should know. You see, Orli's a witch. For the most part, women are witches, male witches are hard to come by. A male witch trained in giving absolute pleasure is even harder. Orli's parents died when he was young, rather horribly I might add, and after some shuffling Orli ended up with his sleazy Uncle who seemed to think he'd make a good whore. Orli lost his virginity at ten in a cheep hotel room to some vampire with a fetish for small boys. A harsh life at human standards, in the Night World its an every day occurrence. Morals in the Night World a virtually unheard of. I'll be the first to tell you that the people of the Night World are not the nicest in existence, at least not on the whole. We've become scattered, relying on the few to govern us. There's a lot of old blood around, the Vampires being immortal and the Witches with memories of old. Even the shape shifters remember their histories dating long before that of man. Most share the same thought: Humans are not worth the air they breathe. Humans are meat in a game where it's ok to play with your food. That's what Night Worlder's do; play with mortal's lives. Use them, kill them or send them insane. There are still communities set up around the place that humans a bred to serve. It's rather disgusting really. You'll be pleased to know that's why we're in the middle of fucken nowhere, the Night World doesn't exist here like it does in the bigger cities. Yes, there are a scattered few of us, but we co-exist well with the humans around us. They don't know about us, and we work well for them. There's a few others around, a few scattered witches, a made Vampire or two, but there's nothing overly grand around here and the rules are so lax that a lot of the mortals around here are our friends. But I still find the shadows alluring. And that's because I am part of the shadow. By day I'm any other Joe Blow, but by night things change. I change. I become something quite more furious then my normal self. I'm a werewolf. Well, only half. My mother is a witch who fell in love with a werewolf and had me. I am more then lucky to live a little in both worlds. I dread my change. For a few moments there I have no control over anything that's me. I fall with nothing to cling to, only to land in a body so unlike my own. Bigger then wolves, stronger, wilder and all the more savage if it wasn't for my mind within the coat. The creature within me is smart, it longs to run through the forest, to hunt and fight. It's only my will that reins it in. Most of the time. There have been moments when the creature has raised itself up, crushed me. Those times I don't like to talk about. It's easier with Orli around. Orli's a witch, his hands are all the magic I need to remind me that I'm inside the dark beast. I still don't know why Orli stays with me, or why he loves me. It's something that still amazes me. And I love him back. I'm content here in this place. So why do I still feel restless? ~*~*~*~ I wake on a rare day off with my arms curled around Orli. I don't remember him coming home last night, I fell asleep long before he finished work. I had told him to wake me up when he got in, but obviously he ignored me, as he does. Sleeping with Orli was an experience that was rarely forgotten. Orli was known as the human blanket among the four of us for the simple reason that when he sleeps you don't need a blanket. The only comfortable way for him to sleep is to cover your body with his own. Where my neck meets my shoulder becomes his pillow, his cheek pressed firmly against my pulse. He's naked, hell, we both are. It's long since either of us bothered with wearing clothing to bed, they have a tendency to get in the way on the nights we both have off. One of Orli's hands rests on the opposite shoulder to the one his head rests on, the other has its fingers entwined with my own. My own hand had found Orli in my sleep, clutching protectively at his slim waist. In these slow waking moments I crane my neck to look down at my lover's elfin face, at the long, dark hair that tickles my skin. His eyes are closed, thick lashes fanning on high cheeks. I know that when they're open they'll be a sparkling brown, full of life. And love. I let my hand squeeze Orli's, letting the other hand caress up and down his back. His shivers against me, trying to decide whether to arch into the touch or stay flush against my body. I make the decision for him, letting my hand drift up further and burying it his soft hair. He begins to wake as I massage his scalp lightly. Eyes flutter open and he blinks a few times before he shifts, turning to look up at me. He's all rumpled and bedridden, his cheek flushed red from being pressed against me all night. "'Morning Dommie," he murmurs in his bright British lit before kissing me, lips hungry and devouring. I don't get a chance to say anything in return as we make up for the week that we haven't been able to wake up in each other's company. ~*~*~*~ There are only two people in this world who get away with calling me 'Dommie '. The first is my mother, and only because she named me. For as long as I can remember I was 'her little Dommie'. The other is Orli, and that's only because I love him and couldn't willingly hurt him. I will admit that it does sound wonderful being breathed from his lips in ecstasy. But no one else is allowed to call me that. I don't mind 'Dominic' or 'Dom' or even 'Monaghan'. But 'Dommie' would earn you a severe warning and then a black eye if you did it again. Elijah and Billy call me 'Scruffy'. It was Orli's decision to have a picnic today. I would have been happy spending the whole day in bed trying to beat our record of seven orgasms in a 24-hour period. But, probably wisely, Orli wanted to do something together seeing how we rarely have the chance. We spent our morning, after the mind blowing sex of course, making up sandwiches and snacks, and hunting around for the picnic basket. For some reason Elijah had it in his room and full of CD's. We have long since stopped trying to work out Doddle, his mind works in mysterious ways that are slightly out of sink with the rest of the universe. Packing a blanket we made our way to a small park not far from the house. It's a nice day, beautiful really, early spring. Lovely. Orli picks a perfect spot for us to sit, not to close to the tree, but beneath the shade. We were eating quietly when Billy, as a Kestrel, landed beside us, demanding some of my sandwich in a shrill cry. Orli laughed, giving him some of his own. It was now that I saw him. He was standing beside the street, a short dark haired woman standing beside him. It was hard not to notice him. Very hard. He was like a black spot on a perfect day. His leather coat fell to the ground, billowing around him in the slight breeze. He wore ray bans over his eyes so I couldn't see the colour, but I didn't need to. I was already lost. Silky dark hair, tan dark skin. And he felt like an animal. In fact more then one. I was falling headlong, something was dragging me down, sucking me up. Damn it all, I had only just looked at him. Someone had woken a Dragon and I was drowning already.