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Kirsty Logan

Hello! I’m Kirsty Logan, a writer of novels and short stories. My books are Things We Say In The Dark, The Gloaming, The Gracekeepers, A Portable Shelter, and The Rental Heart & Other Fairytales.

Latest News

Kirsty Logan

Hello! I’m Kirsty Logan, a writer of novels and short stories. My books are Things We Say In The Dark, The Gloaming, The Gracekeepers, A Portable Shelter, and The Rental Heart & Other Fairytales.

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“It Was A Dark And Stormy Night…” (Part 2)

23rd Jun 2010 in Uncategorised

Please acquaint yourself with Part 1 of the Busted slash.

Now lie back on your chaise longue, light your cigarillo, and lift your monocle to your eye for Part 2 (AKA Release The Willies)…

“It Was A Dark And Stormy Night…” (Part 2)

Matt’s brain was flicking through the usual images: Britney Spears in a PVC catsuit; his high school English teacher holding a cane and threatening to spank him; walking onstage wearing only huge pink underpants; three pale girls with dark hair and pointed teeth, swaying their hips and beckoning to him with tapered fingers… OK, that wasn’t one of the usual dreams. His brain appeared to like that one, as the girls continued to sway in front of his eyes. He settled into the dream.

The girls danced for him, their hips moving like snakes. Their long fingers stroked one another, moving over breasts and waists barely covered by black silk. Their pointed tongues flickered out, licking red mouths. Matt took a step towards them, and they smiled. Their teeth really were pointed; they looked dangerously sharp.

Matt sat up in bed. The dream continued to flicker through his brain.

The girls were calling his name. They wanted him to go to them. They started to kiss, triple tongues sliding together, triple mouths pouting.

Matt slid out of bed, dragging his feet as he moved towards the open door. He bumped the doorframe as he passed it, but did not wake.

Matt stepped towards the girls. They were murmuring, whispering his name between their moans. Their fingers beckoned him as they licked each other’s necks, red tongues oiling the flawless white skin.

Matt walked straight ahead, moving his hands out to reach the pale girls.

He was so close, but it seemed that they moved further away with every step he took. The girls were still calling him, their tongues moving more aggressively across the porcelain skin, teeth grazing, leaving thin red trails.

Matt stepped through the doorway of the room opposite, silently moving across the thick carpet. He tripped over a huge object in the centre of the room, and fell softly onto it. The bed bounced slightly as it accepted his weight.

He stepped again towards the girls, and tripped. They caught him gleefully, and a bed appeared below them in midair. He accepted this with the odd logic of dreams, and sat up on his knees to survey the girls. They lay below him, smiling up at him with their pointed white teeth and their pouted red mouths. He bent down to the middle girl and gently kissed her.

Matt knelt over the body below him. He bent down and kissed the warm mouth, sliding his tongue gently inside.

The other girls cooed his name, sliding their cold hands over his body to tear off his clothes. He broke the kiss, slowly pulling the black silk off their bodies. The fabric became tangled, and he had to tug at it before throwing it to the floor.

Matt pulled away from the kiss, gently ripping the fabric in front of his hands, only stopping when he could feel warm flesh below him. He slid his hands over the body, feeling a broad chest, strong shoulders, a soft neck. He bent down to the neck, kissing and licking the flesh before gently nibbling it.

He was surrounded by flesh, soft white skin displayed in front of him. The girls’ hands were all over his body, stroking his chest and shoulders, sliding up his back. They tangled their fingers in his hair, sliding along his jaw, stroking his mouth. He kissed the finger on his lips, then playfully sucked it into his mouth. The girls moaned his name, obviously enjoying his play.

Matt kissed lower, his mouth moving from the soft neck, down past the muscled chest and stomach to the warm flesh below. He found a hardness there, and pulled it into his mouth. He sucked at it, licking along the length and flicking his tongue at the tip.

The more he played with the finger, the more the girls moaned for him. He didn’t even know which girl’s finger he was sucking, but he really didn’t care. It seemed to be having a similar effect on all of them. They were still stroking their hands down his back, and as he sucked harder they became more frantic, dragging their fingernails over his skin. He reached out for the nearest patch of white skin, and scratched in return. The girls shrieked with pleasure.

Matt sucked on the hardness in his mouth, his hands moving over all the skin he could reach. He dragged his fingernails over the stomach, clawing harder the more his tongue moved. He licked and sucked, stroking with his fingertips.

As he sucked on the girl’s finger, she shrieked louder, the noise ringing in his ear. The fingernails on his back were beginning to hurt. He tried to pull away, but the girls would not let him go. They pulled him down to them, and before he could struggle, they dug their sharp teeth into his neck. He could feel them sucking, could feel blood running down onto his collarbones. He screamed.

Matt woke with a start and sat up. He knelt there, wondering where he was. This was not the room he had fallen asleep in. The sun had risen, and cold light filtered through the dirty window. Matt looked down. This was James’ room, and there was James… but what the hell had happened to him? His clothes were ripped and strewn across the floor, there were long scratch marks down his stomach, and he had a huge lovebite on his neck. In a second, Matt’s dream came rushing back. Oh, shit. He had done it. He had been dreaming about those damn vampire girls and – oh God! – touching James in his sleep. Matt went over the dream again. The kissing – he had kissed James! The licking – he had licked James! The finger-sucking? Matt glanced at James’ fingers. They were nestled up by his head, clutching the pillow. He couldn’t possibly have been sucking them. A chill crept down Matt’s spine. He looked down. Oh shit. He had sucked off his best friend in his sleep. This was not good. How the fuck do you go about explaining that? You don’t, that’s how. You run away and deny everything. Matt stumbled off the bed, tiptoeing back to his room to try and get back to sleep. He curled up on the huge bed and tried to forget about what he suspected had just happened. Shock and denial did not seem to affect Matt’s sleep patterns, as he fell asleep as soon as he closed his eyes.

***

At the moment that Matt’s dream was ending, James’ was just beginning. He had always had a secret fascination with history, and Ancient Egypt in particular. He had never told the other boys, suspecting (quite rightly) that they would make mummy jokes for weeks. Consequently, he occasionally had dreams about sarcophagi, hieroglyphs and girls wearing kohl and not much else. When a honey-skinned girl appeared, he assumed this was one of his Egyptian dreams and settled into it.

He was watching her through a gap in a stone wall. She seemed beautiful, but as he could only see one of her eyes he couldn’t be sure. He moved closer to the gap, moving his eye right up to it.

James stood up and stepped carefully forward. Two more steps and he had reached the end of the bed. The knee-buckling crash when he stepped to the floor failed to wake him.

Yes, she was lovely. Her almond-shaped eyes were as black as the eyelashes fringing them. Her mouth was wide and full, her skin seemed impossibly smooth. He simply looked at her face for a few moments, enjoying her beauty. His eyes moved down her body. Beginning at her collarbones, all there was to see was white. She seemed to be wrapped in some sort of white robe. He scrunched up his eyes. He couldn’t see properly what it was. He needed to get closer, to touch her. After all, that was what usually happened in these dreams. But how to get in? There didn’t seem to be a way. He slapped himself on the forehead when he realised that his eye was pressed up against a door. He opened the door and stepped inside.

James padded along the corridor, turning when his hip bumped into the banister. He reached a door and pushed it open, stepping into the room.

He moved closer to the girl, waiting for her to acknowledge him. She did not move. He looked more closely at her white robe, realising with a shock that it was bandages. She was a mummy. Well, he figured, that made some sort of sense. He moved towards her, noticing as he neared her that the bandages were very tight. She had a hot body under there.

James barely even noticed when he tripped over the bed. He fell softly next to the sleeping figure already there.

He stood right in front of her, looking down into her eyes. They glittered up at him, and he bent to kiss her full mouth. She kissed him back, her tongue snaking into his mouth.

James bent his head down, finding a warm mouth with pouting lips. As he moved his body closer, he felt a soft tongue sliding into his mouth.

Without breaking the kiss, he began to unwrap her bandages. His heart fluttered as he considered what he might find underneath. He smiled into her mouth as he felt the warm flesh of her back. He held her closer as he discovered more of her body.

James unwrapped the fabric in front of him, his hands sliding over the body underneath. He moved closer, feeling the touch of bare skin. He slid his arms around the figure, pressing himself closer still.

She was naked now, her skin displayed for him. He pulled her closer, their mouths melting together. Suddenly he felt something, and paused. There was another edge; he must have forgotten one of the bandages. Still kissing her, he began to unwrap it. Moving his hand to the skin underneath, he realised there was nothing there. He had unpeeled her skin and reached the dust and preserved organs underneath. He began to jump away from her, but had not even broken the kiss when he was shocked awake.

James was sure the dream was over, and yet he could still feel the Egyptian girl’s full lips against his, her soft tongue flicking into his mouth. He kissed her back for a moment before remembering the dust underneath her skin. He hastily pulled away and opened his eyes, fearing he would see a wizened mummy in front of him. In the murky half-light he could see a face: full lips, strong chin, artfully tousled hair. Holy shit, was that Charlie? James frowned. What was he doing in Charlie’s bed? He looked down. Charlie slept on, naked in his arms. A more pertinent question might be: what was he doing in Charlie’s bed, naked and kissing? This did not look good. James jerked back, falling off the edge of the bed with a thud. He peeped up over the side of the bed, praying that Charlie had not woken. Thankfully, Charlie had not even moved. He slept on, naked and curled up, his lips still warm from the kiss. James stared at Charlie’s pouting mouth. That had been a hell of a kiss. Maybe if he just… no! He shook his head violently, as if to shake out the thought. The best thing to do would be to go back to bed before anyone woke up. James stood up, brushing himself off out of habit before creeping out. He paused. What the hell had happened to him? He had scratch-marks all down his stomach. Had Charlie done that? The bastard! Maybe he’d been having one of those S&M dreams again. James frowned and tiptoed back to bed. He wondered once again at the scratches on his stomach and the weird throbbing in his neck before drifting to sleep.

***

Charlie’s eyelids started flickering rapidly as his dream began.

The night was black and the moon was full. He crouched lower on the rock, then stretched out his body and let out a long, low howl. He was hungry. The claws on his hands were itching to feel something other than the hard rock and sharp plants around him.

Charlie raised himself up onto his knees, swaying his head as if smelling for something. He licked his lips.

There! He could scent it. Warm flesh. He bounded towards it, the moon like an eye at his back.

He pounced off the bed, stumbling down the corridor, still twitching his head for a scent. He padded through a doorway, growling quietly.

He was close now, he could feel it. There was flesh nearby, and he would have it.

 

Charlie jumped up onto the bed, sniffing around the body lying there. It was warm and soft. The skin smelled musky, the hair tickled his nose as he rubbed his cheek against it.

He had flesh, right in front of him. He wanted it, wanted to devour it all. He sniffed around it before licking it with a rough tongue.

Charlie hesitantly stuck out his tongue and ran it along the neck. The skin was soft, ending in the rough stubble of the jaw.

Yes, it was flesh. Good flesh. He crouched over it, ripping off its clothes with his sharp claws.

Charlie knelt over the body, roughly tearing off its clothes with his fingernails. When the clothes were gone, he lay down on the flesh, resting his cheek against the solid chest, stroking down the stomach with his fingernails. He slid his body up, feeling the soft slither of skin on skin. He burrowed his nose into the soft neck, inhaling the scent.

He could feel it now, flesh on flesh. He ran his tongue all over it, inhaling deeply.

Charlie slid his tongue all over the flesh, nibbling gently at earlobes and nipples, sucking on lips and fingertips. He felt a hardness below the stomach, perfectly matching his own. He slid his body together with the other, stroking the twin solidities.

The flesh was hard and soft, smooth and rough. He wanted all of it, he wanted to devour it, have it all to himself.

He sucked hard on the bottom lip, letting out a soft growl. The bodies were moving together, slow and smooth. He reached up and held the wrists to the bed, pressing his lips hard against the mouth. His tongue forced its way in.

The flesh was moving beneath him. He held it down, wanting to be in control. The flesh did not decide, he did. The flesh reached up and bit him, hard. He howled, and felt a chunk of his throat rip away. He woke up still howling.

Charlie opened his eyes. He must have been having a really weird dream, because he was lying in a very uncomfortable position. In fact, the thing under him was so lumpy that it couldn’t be a bed. He raised himself up onto his knees and looked down. He frowned. He had been lying on someone. Had they been there when he fell asleep? He squinted and looked closely at the face. Matt? Why had he fallen asleep on top of Matt? He looked down. More to the point, why did he have a hard-on? He looked more closely. Why did Matt have a hard-on? And – oh shit – why were they both naked? Why was Matt covered in scratches and bite-marks? Charlie did not attempt to answer any of these questions. He skulked back to his room and promptly fell asleep, praying only that his hard-on would have disappeared by morning.

***

And that is the end of our sordid tale. Yes, I know it’s not really a proper ending. I think I had the boys waking up in the morning, pretending like nothing happened, and finding that the car was magically working again. It appears I didn’t bother to actually write that scene. I was 17; I obviously got bored after the dirty bits. Cue jokes.

2 responses to ““It Was A Dark And Stormy Night…” (Part 2)”

  1. Actually, wasn’t there also an N Sync* video with a PG-rated version of the same sort of plot (boy band takes shelter in a spooky old house and has series of dreams involving partying with classic monsters)? So at least one other person’s mind has worked the same way as yours was working at that point…. 🙂

    * Or Backstreet Boys. They’ve begun to merge into each other more than a decade on.

  2. Kirsty Logan says:

    It was Backstreet Boys! And I don’t doubt for a second that that’s where I stole the idea from.

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