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Kindred Spirits Complete	By : RedelliaValentinos Category: +1 through F > Danny Phantom Views: 507 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own Danny Phantom, I don't own any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from writing this story, I write this purely for the enjoyment of writing. It's just me and a keyboard and my wild brain.

Chapter List
- 70
- 71
The days that follow are so much lighter on the mind now that Danny's first rut has come and gone, and he's somehow survived it. Vlad does wonder how often the youth will rut, but that's a question for Frostbite. He also wonders why Danny didn't say anything about the knot. One would think it would be a common courtesy, even proper, to warn of what's coming. At the same time, it's such a personal question that Vlad doesn't ask.
...they never put any actual thought into how they would share a bed. They never talked it out. But, post rut, Danny began sleeping with him. It's one subject they just don't find necessary to discuss. Or maybe they don't want to take the time. They're not sure. Either way, about a week after Danny's rut, Vlad was in the kitchen prepping a cup of chamomile tea for the night. Danny hung by the doorway watching, rubbing at his arm out of reflex.
Vlad saw him out of the corner of his eye, following every movement. He didn't say anything. He simply started another cup and handed it to him when it was done. They stood there in the kitchen together and leaned against the counter, sipping at their tea in a comfortable silence. Afterwards, Vlad took him by the hand and led him up the stairs.
Danny followed without argument, taking the motion as permission to finally share the space. He's wanted to for a while, but broaching the subject and its sensitive nature, like every other delicate subject, is awkward. They've gotten better over the last few months, don't get them wrong. They're talking. They talk plenty. They don't talk about sharing the room, but they're already conversing about almost everything else. The universe is kind enough to just let them have this.
But Danny's been suffering for his nervous patience, sleeping relatively poorly and grabbing at his blankets in the middle of the night in search of...something. The first night in the man's bed, he sleeps properly, and wakes feeling quite refreshed.
And Danny isn't actually horrendous to sleep with. He's a cuddler by nature, so sharing the same bed isn't difficult. Sometimes Vlad winds up in the inside of a spooning, but for the most part, Danny prefers to lay his head on his chest and drape an arm across his torso, holding him close. Part of Vlad almost expected the sex to just happen shortly after getting the boy into his bed. But Danny seems more interested in expanding on his space-heater time. For a little while, anyway.
...
It's almost two months later, when Danny's just starting to move his clothing into the dresser, that the air changes.
The routine hadn't been any different.
Vlad settles into bed late in the evening. He pulls the comforter up to his hips and sits back against the headboard with a book. Danny stands in the doorway, looking on, fixating on him. Searching his form for a second sign of life. As knowledgeable as he's made himself, he knows very little about Vlad's condition, still has yet to truly process it, and knows even less about how it applies to their particular species of ghost. But he understands some.
There's a faint glow to his form. Which he's only heard in description and never fathomed how it would manifest, but there it is. And there's a calmness in Vlad's expression as he starts reading. He's pulled his hair back into a loose braid and has brought his knees up to settle the book in his lap. It's a common sight, at this point. But tonight, Danny feels something stir. Phantom restlessly fidgets with its talons, the sound of ice scraping echoes through Danny's head.
He's wanting. They're wanting.
There hasn't been anything since the rut. Danny understands that Vlad was sore afterwards, even if he never said it out loud. The older halfa winced every time he sat down or stood up for a solid week. He doesn't really remember what they did, though.
He remembers the feeling. The pleasure. That sank in. And he remembers bringing him the water. But everything else is muddled and blurry. As nice as it felt, Danny would prefer to retain the memory. It seems unfair that Vlad can recall everything. The best solution, in his mind, is to try it outside of his mating cycle. When he's fully with it. That way, he can make mental notes and learn even more about Vlad.
Part of him also just really wants sex, too. He's feeling a little pent up. He could just take care of himself in private somewhere else. But that's not what he wants.
Licking his fangs out of reflex to settle his anxiety, he realizes he doesn't really know how to ask for it. Human couples don't always ask, do they? As he understands it, sometimes they do. Sometimes, people are just in tune with each other. A simple touch or signal and they're rearing to go. Sometimes, someone just says, "Let's do it," but that doesn't feel right, either. Danny doesn't feel like they're at that point, yet.
That night in Polter Heights had been driven by alcohol. When they both sobered up, they kept going; they were too far in to want to stop. But to do anything while drunk seems lazy. Like a shortcut. At the same time, Danny doesn't want to wait for his next rut to get what he needs.
"Daniel? Are you alright?" Vlad asks, and Danny flinches slightly.
"I'm fine," deciding that he can self-entertain, he turns to leave.
"Not so fast," Vlad abruptly closes the book in his lap, "Come here."
Danny sighs and enters the room properly. Vlad waits until he comes around to his side of the bed before he studies him.
Danny's tail sways behind him. Like an agitated cat. His fingers are twitching and he curls them into his palms to hide them. His expression is one of vexation and denial. He's only wearing that large t-shirt and boxers. A faint pink hue manifests as the youth is somewhat obligated to stand there. His eyes are bright, but distinctly pointed down towards the bedding and most likely focusing on the stitch work. At the same time, he also looks ready to bolt, and any direction will do.
"What's bothering you?"
At first, he gets no response. Just a twitch of the lower lip and cyan orbs that are slowly growing wild.
"I can't help you if you don't communicate."
"I..."
Vlad stares at him, "You...what?"
"I don't really know how to... It's not... There's really no polite way to say it. I don't know how to ask for it."
Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, "Daniel, how long have we known each-other?"
"...almost ten years?"
The older halfa nods, "And in all of that time, have I ever known you to speak with any sense of decorum or diplomacy?"
Danny blinks. What the hell is... Nevermind. He knows what diplomacy means, at least.
"...no?"
"No. You've always spoken with the subtlety of an elephant wearing tap shoes. To be tactful, or delicate, nay, linguistically considerate of those around you was never a strong suit. You say exactly what you mean, whatever is on your mind, regardless of the people around you, no holds barred, to hell with the easily offended, and as a result, you are literally incapable of lying. Half the time, you're just lucky that I consider your mouth to be multifunctional."
Danny doesn't know whether to curl up in a ball and cry or be offended and slap him. Both are quite appealing.
"But the benefit to your freight-train attitude is that I usually know exactly what I'm getting. So, open your mouth and use your words. What's the problem?"
"..."
"If you don't tell me, I'll be more than happy to call your sister."
"Are you sure you wanna know?"
"Well, the truth is quicker."
Danny nods, "Okay, fine. I wanna plow you right now."
The blunt delivery coupled with the subject matter catches him off guard. His jaw drops before he can stop it.
Given that he hears no protest, Danny takes the stunned silence as an opportunity to move the book to the nightstand. Never breaking eye contact, he leans down towards the older halfa and starts pulling the blanket back. Slowly, he's watching for any sign of discomfort, the comforter is ultimately bunched up at the foot of the bed. Vlad makes narry a sound, though his throat does try, as Danny then gets onto the bed and nudges his legs apart.
His eyes are clear. There's no ferocity or instinctual need to satisfy. None of his movements are being made under the influence of his other side. It's all him. A want as opposed to a need. Vlad snaps out of his shock just as Danny comes to settle between his legs.
"Just so we're clear," the man holds a finger up, "that is not how you ask for this. That's not how you ask for this at all."
"I know," cold fingers reach out and brush his cheek, which promptly reddens, but doesn't lean out of his hold.
"Just one request? Don't knot me this time, please?"
"Don't... What?"
Vlad blinks, "You have a knot, Daniel."
"I don't even know what that is."
"It's a part of male anatomy that swells at the base and locks the male within the female partner."
"Yeah, I don't have that."
"Yes, you do."
Danny's eyes narrow in confusion, "I think I'd notice if I have something like that. Which I don't."
'You do. It's just part of our shared state.'
Vlad almost argues, but a strange flicker crosses the youth's pupils, speckles of blue light that are gone just as quickly as they appear, like little flecks of glitter. Vlad still finds it pretty, in a way. What it is, he doesn't know. But Danny seems to.
'We'll talk later.'
"Okay, I do," he says after a minute, "But not in human form, apparently."
Ah. That's what it was.
"Mm. Slap him for me the next time you two converse."
Danny smirks.
"You may proceed."
'At least Frostbite wasn't lying to me.'
The first kiss is slightly hesitant. Vlad, having never shared such an intimate act before, responds nervously. Lightly. He starts shaking a little, completely unprepared for the interaction. He can feel his own colors waver and wobble in his insecurity. Tilting his head at just the right angle to avoid knocking their teeth together, Danny picks up on it and takes the lead. Starting with soft little pecks at first and scattering them about warm lips, slowly working his way up to sincerity.
He gently cradles his face in his hands and pulls him in for more. Testing the waters proves beneficial. Grazing the corner of the man's mouth with his tongue causes him to open for air. He takes the chance to dive in. Tasting teeth and scraping against fangs, sucking the air right out of the lungs beneath him. Vlad tries to take smaller breaths, but to no avail. He's becoming light-headed starving on an element he doesn't even need anymore. It's the muscle memory that drives him to panic.
Danny senses when it's time to move on and slips his tongue out of the gasping throat. As he trails a cold line from Vlad's mouth, down his neck, nipping over his jugular, he slips a hand into Vlad's pajamas to feel him. A surprised yelp is thrown to the ceiling when two fingers slip right in.
''You got tight,'' he mutters between licks at his throat.
The older halfa groans under his touch and opens his legs a little more. He has a retort in mind, a quip about his muscles tightening to ensure the safety of the cargo he's carrying. But a third finger pushes in and curls against that wonderful spot inside of him before he can.
''At least you're wet enough.''
There's no response.
While his right hand works him open, Danny uses his left to phase his pants off, tossing them aside. Then he pushes at his shirt, shoving it up as far as he can to expose more flesh. He places one last kiss over the scars of the bond bite and shifts down to deliver equal praise to rapidly heating skin. Turning it pink and then red with each nip and scrape, he takes his time on both fronts.
Vlad melts into every touch and lick, becoming more pliant with every second. A tongue twirls around his nipple just as the hand stretching him open twists awkwardly. He shouts in surprise when his walls just move, and he's instantly aware of how full he is. He can't really tell what's just happened, but the boy gives an experimental tug with his arm and the world is abruptly painted with white stars. There might even be a few constellations in there, somewhere.
Wet warmth rushes free as his legs fall open and the mouth moves to the other nipple.
''That's one,'' is uttered into his chest.
Whatever's going on inside of him, Vlad can't see. He could guess, and through the haze, he suspects. But his suspicions are only confirmed when Danny's arm moves again, and he sets a brutal pace.
Twisting his fist in random directions as he moves has Vlad calling out to any deity in any realm he can, sputtering verbal articulations in two tongues. His legs spasm and kick at the mattress to get away as knuckles grind against every extra nerve they can reach. Fluids easily slip free, smearing along Danny's arm and squelching as he makes a mess of the body beneath him.
Grabbing onto the sheets for dear life isn't helping. Thrashing in whatever direction he can is just as meaningless. He has no choice but to keep enduring only a fraction of the strength and speed he knows the youth to have.
There's entire galaxies behind his fluttering eyelids. Novas he can't name and planets he can't place. In the midst of the stars imploding, he faintly hears fabric shifting and there's a word spoken into his ear that he doesn't process.
Danny rips his hand out of him just as his spine arcs off the bed and quickly replaces it with his aching member. He slams forward, earning a gargled shout and choking back his own vocalizations as the heat gets to him immediately.
"Holy shit," he has to hold still to avoid catastrophic failure.
It's one thing to have this heat on his hands. Somewhat similar to have it on his tail. But to have it wrapped around what matters most, complete with a clear mind and all memory cells working, it's a whole new world entirely. Vlad is winding down from his second orgasm. Danny is fighting his first. He remembers really liking what he felt mid-rut. But now that he has the missing details, his mouth is watering.
It suddenly makes sense why so many people enjoy it. He waits until he's ready and to hell with Vlad's condition. Keeping steady, struggling to maintain what little sanity he has left, his shoulders tense and tighten as he braces against the bed. Sweating palms press flat to the mattress beside Vlad's waist.
He's on a hair trigger, which Vlad realizes when he finally comes back down from his high.
"Daniel..." he grabs the boy's shirt into a tight fist and pulls him forward, "move."
The command is non-negotiable. Firm and plainly made. Danny's hips buck just once, and Vlad's back in the heavens before he can realize that he should have been more specific. He should have thought it through before he gave the order. He should have bargained for speed and safety. Or at least haggled for power. He did none of these things.
His tongue twists with foul words and debauchery. Whether to plea for a commuted sentence or be condemned outright is anyone's guess. And it wouldn't matter if an atbiter were present. No matter what vulgarity flows forth, Danny is obligated to comply with the original edict. He drives forward relentlessly. Repeatedly. Barreling into hyperstimulation as scent and sound and sight smother his brain.
They each feel their loins coil in reverence. The gates are not shy about tearing themselves down. Their human hearts work until they can't, and their cores keep them going.
Ahead by two and already drained from a preexisting condition, Vlad moves from one galaxy to the next as each sun implodes. Danny's lungs burn for oxygen, but won't do the work. Inside, his blood runs brighter, to a cherry red and screaming for that key element. He still doesn't breath. Instead, his mouth hangs open, fangs pronounced and dripping saliva onto the exposed naval beneath him.
He paints Vlad's insides white until Vlad loses consciousness.
When the older halfa's legs fall open for a second time, he works until his arms burn from holding himself up.
When his arms give out and he falls onto the veritable corpse, he grinds and digs his pelvis in to chase one last release.
...the mess that's made doesn't come to light until morning. He wakes to a hand stroking through his hair and rises up for a kiss. They lay together for a while. When Danny finally pulls out, Vlad groans at the emptiness and curses at the mess. Danny expects to be yelled at for the quantity. It seems ridiculous that he made so much. Instead, a warm hand simply tilts his chin up.
"Clean it up."
"With what?"
Vlad only smiles and rubs a thumb over his bottom lip. "What do you think?"
...
The only real rule to be established is a simple one...
Not in the kitchen.
It's a tough one to follow. But Danny thinks he understands why.
The kitchen is Vlad's sacred space of sorts, where he can get lost in his ancestral recipes and bring himself closer to the only relative he holds dear. Even though he's never met her. And while that certainly plays a part in it, it's not the real reason.
No, the real reason is far less complex...
Too much of a mess.
They snapped in the foyer first.
For the little snit he threw in bed with regards to Danny's alternative anatomy, Vlad lost himself all too readily. Caving in quickly, presenting to and becoming trapped beneath a primal Danny, and they didn't even undress properly.
With a hand pinning his hair to the floor, he lost the ability to get away and couldn't have cared less. Back bowed down to the floor with his posterior raised, pants down around his thighs, putting his spine in such a steep curve that a sensible human would worry it might break, Vlad yowled as Danny took him from behind two-fold.
The girth of a sculpted tail beating against his cervix, combined with the weight of Danny's enhanced cock pounding against his prostate, he took the knot then. With practical gusto. The activity wrung six rounds out of him before the world shut off.
He awoke in the imp's arms hours later, wrapped in a blanket and stripped of his clothes, snuggled up in the boy's old room. The bedding beneath them was soaking and sticky with water and orgasmic fluids blended together.
They made sure to haul the linens to the laundry room, and after setting a load going in the washer, Danny pushed him onto the table and licked him clean.
The library saw to their needs next, with Vlad's arms tightly bound in a blue scarf he barely used. Flat on his back, with his pants at his thighs again as that accursed tail weighed itself down in ice and stirred his insides around for Danny's amusement.
Freezing and thawing him from in the inside out, multiple long drawn out orgasms that had him spewing nonsensical noises to the rafters. Vlad mourned the ruin of one of his favorite carpets that night, with an abhorrent mess of half frozen fluids clinging to the fibers, and might have whined about it more if he hadn't been coaxed into yet another round.
Within a few days, they've permeated half the manor with their scents.
What brought forth the rule had started out innocently enough.
At some point, in between their bouts of obscenity, Vlad found himself hungry. He'd managed to drag himself out of bed and dress himself halfway decently, in a loose T-shirt destined for the wash and his skirt. Upon staggering down to the kitchen, he started cooking.
The sound of a stir-fry lured Danny to the top of the stairs. The aroma brought him to the source, where he caught Vlad bending down in the fridge for something. He had the sense to wait until the man straightened up, but when the door was finally shut, he made his move.
Vlad wound up pinned against the refrigerator. With his hands tangling in Danny's hair as three fingers curled into his g-spot relentlessly and his clit was subjected to every alphabet known to man. When his fingers started to hurt, the boy switched hands. When that hand started to hurt, he switched to his tail.
When the older halfa's legs failed, Danny took to a chair by the island and watched. Casually licking his fingers clean as Vlad devolved into a spasmodic heap on the floor, he kept his tail going. One release after another, free flowing juices and ice cold water spilling out onto the linoleum until he passed out.
Dinner burned, and the floor had to be mopped.
Vlad drew the line.
Danny knows when not to argue.
...
Vlad has to wait for a break in their fun to do the one thing he wasn't really eager to do. Being what he is, his existence, and the state he's in, proper medical care is hard to come by. There's only one place available to him.
Only one person is capable of actually helping him. And as much as he really, really doesn't want to go, as much as he dreads the locale and the doctor he needs, he's not about to gamble with his health. Nor will he place bets on the health of his unborn child.
''Where are you going?''
Vlad practically freezes.
On their bed rests a messenger bag that's been carefully propped open. His journal is packed into it carefully, along with a new tome that's completely blank inside. There's a few different writing utensils tucked into an inside pocket; a pen, a mechanical pencil, an eraser and a fine-tip marker. Vlad is in the midst of bundling up in warmer clothing. He's pulled on snow pants and a pair of winter boots, is in the middle of turning a sweater outside-in when he's just been interrupted.
''Uh... Out?''
Danny peers at the bag nervously, and then looks at the winter-wear the man has wrapped himself in. Anxiety turns to suspicion. Soot smothers the whites of his eyes as an overwhelming sense of trepidation encapsulates his heart.
''Where?''
Grunting, Vlad dumps the article of clothing on the bed and turns to face him.
''Daniel, I'm pregnant.''
A weird little haze crosses cyan irises at the statement, reminding the older halfa that the imp still hasn't fully grasped the situation.
''I know,'' he answers, though he doesn't sound too sure of it yet, ''But why are you...''
Vlad barely avoids rolling his eyes, ''Well, I need a doctor, don't I? To be sure everything is going smoothly. And unless you know of a human physician that won't promptly report us to the media, there's only one person I can go to.''
Danny takes the response in easily enough. A low rumble rattles through his chest, one of distaste for the hint. But he closes his eyes and takes a breath. Telling himself a few times in his head that it's perfectly normal medical care for them, there's nothing untoward to be had, and that no harm will come to his mate, he tries to settle down.
''I understand, I don't like it, but I know, logically, you have to,'' he says clearly, ''And I know I'll have to do the same if or when I'm in your place.''
Vlad hears the words, spoken carefully, enunciated sharply, and wonders if he'll need to put himself on a defense. But the boy uttered them more for his own benefit than anything else.
''Do you want to come with me?''
Danny shakes his head rather stiffly. ''I want to, I feel like I need to, but I really don't need to. I don't need... I want to. I should...''
His sclera are still dark. Vlad's not sure if he's winning the internal fight or not. He's grinding his teeth together. They can both hear it.
''Daniel?''
''I want to control it.''
''Control what?''
''It. Everything. You. Where you're going. I want control, but I don't, because it's not right and it's not fair to either of us.''
Narrowing his eyes on the youth, he can see the muscles in his arms trembling. It suddenly clicks. Vlad knows what he's running into. Just as a mother cat carries her litter back into the nest out of instinct, to keep the kittens safe, warm and fed, this is the instinct clawing at Danny's nerves. Vlad has to leave the nest for the care he's going to need. Danny knows it, but still has to fight the urge to keep him from going.
He approaches the imp as calmly as he can and pulls the youth into a tight embrace. Pressing him close to his chest seems to drain a large portion of the tension almost instantly.
''Do you want to reaffirm your claim?'' he asks softly, ''Will that make you feel better?''
A small nod buries itself in his manubrium* and his shirt is promptly tugged over his collarbone.
''Fine. Do that, and you can come with me. Just try not to bite so hard.''
...
...their presence on the island is not nearly as welcomed as Vlad had hoped. Vlad maintained his human form the whole trip and touched down first, onto the ice without much of a call for attention. He's still not supposed to be there, as far as many of the villagers are concerned. He's not trying to be sneaky about it, he just doesn't want to cause alarm.
Danny tries to follow his example. He'd shifted forms before they even stepped through the portal, hoping to find comfort in his hybrid body and possibly assert just a little bit of tempered and controlled dominance. As Vlad had landed gently and barely announced that he was even there, Danny's hooves touched the frozen terrain with barely enough force to shake a leaf from a tree. But it's his arrival, his entrance, with a complete lack of impact that sparks panic and a pike line of spears in their faces.
This time, however, he doesn't cower under the armaments. Nor does he respond in kind; he's not here to attack. He ignores them instead.
Vlad is not amused.
''Maybe I should've left you at home,'' he grumbles.
The only response he gets is a half-hearted glare, and then a spear point jabs a little bit closer to his face. Danny fixes his eyes on the sharpened point for a moment before shifting a scowl towards its wielder. He leans down, in the path of the weapon, bares his fangs and is starting to growl at the yeti when Vlad decides that for their own safety, he has to be proactive. Swinging his fist out, he delivers a hard blow squarely into the youth's groin, dropping him to the ground with a high pitched squeal.
The action gives the infantry significant pause. Some spears even tilt away.
The older halfa turns on the beast they fear and grabs its tail, barking ''Get out of my way or join him!''
"That won't be necessary," the armed crowd jolts and clears a path, revealing a somewhat flustered Frostbite.
''My apologies. I had a feeling you were coming, and I'm grateful you put forth the effort to arrive quietly. But I was... Preparing...'' his eyes fall on the sniveling ball at Vlad's feet.
Vlad levels a look on the snowbeast. ''How did you know we were coming?''
''I have my ways,'' he answers quickly, ''Is that... Snowdrift?''
Vlad looks down at the imp as the crowd disperses with mutterings of distrust. Frostbite gets down on a knee to get a better look at him.
''My word. I knew you had grown, but this quite unexpected!''
Danny groans and rolls onto his front as gracefully as he can. He gets his hooves under him, palms flat to the ground, but remains hunched low so the pain can recede.
''Well, on the upside, cheap shots still seem to count.''
A faint rumble buzzes through the ice.
Frostbite chuckles. ''It's alright, Snowdrift. You can stay down.''
...the yeti wastes no time getting the older halfa to the cave.
Upon opening the door to the exam room, he immediately leaps to the intention behind the visit. Effectively blindsiding his patient.
''How far along are you?''
Vlad scoffs, ''Who said I was pregnant?!''
A chuckle reverberates off the cave walls, ''You've been shut in with a hormonal demonic adolescent. Logically, the next time you came to see me, it would be because you're expecting. And you didn't ask the crucial questions when you were here last time. You didn't ask me when he would rut, or how often, or if they're even capable of child-rearing.''
He goes to a cabinet and pulls out the blue tunic.
The halfa groans, ''For the record, I did wonder. And is this really necessary?''
''I have to be sure he didn't do any damage. Change.''
''Trust me. I think I'd know if he hurt me.''
''You would think, yes. I'm just being thorough. Change.''
The halfa curses under his breath and removes his heavy overcoat. Taking the time to fold it and place it neatly on the counter brings some peace of mind. He removes his sweater next.
''I moved him into my home almost nine months ago. He's settled in rather nicely. Cutting the cord in Minnesota was not as amenable as we would have preferred, but, it could have been worse.''
Frostbite watches him pull the tunic on. He catches a glimpse of symmetrical claw marks scarring tanned shoulder blades and two half circles of teeth marks dotting his right trapezius, one inside of the other. He snickers softly and turns away so the halfa can finish changing.
''You better do this quick. If he comes in and catches you with your claws in me, he might kill you.''
''He's that territorial, is he?''
''He bit me twice,'' Vlad kicks his pants off and folds them up.
Glancing backwards, ''Three, by my count.''
''No, twice.''
The snowbeast smiles as he motions for the table, ''Three. Up you go.''
The halfa presses around his shoulders, ignoring the jabs of pain from the fresh bite, ''Nope, two.''
''Right cheek, Seraph. Sit.''
''Wha-'' Vlad fusses at the back of his tunic, ''Are you fucking serious right now?!''
"If you could jus-"
"-That little shit bit me on the ass!"
Sensing the incoming tantrum and desiring to stonewall it, Frostbite ushers him towards the table.
...
It takes Danny several minutes to reach the point of being able to stand up again. Taking his time, waiting for the pain to pass until he's certain he can rise off the ground. When he finally does, he gives a full body shudder that twitches his spines and everything is right again.
He's being given a wide berth by the villagers. They've either run off to do something else with their time or they've backed away. Putting several meters of distance between him and their spears, which they still clutch with stiff hands as they peer at him from various vantage points.
Part of Danny recognizes how unwelcome he is. Part of him no longer cares. He got so used to being the odd one out that his mind doesn't even dredge up the schoolyard memories anymore.
He sniffs at the air, bitter and chilling, coated evenly with the scents of the inhabitants, and starts walking. Keeping his tail up behind him to counter the lean of his torso, he stalks the village square without interruption. He still finds the land itself idyllic despite his experiences.
Leaving hoof prints behind him and paying the trackers and watchers no mind, he meanders through the scenery for a while. The villagers will need to get used to his presence. The human part of his brain knows this. He keeps to the foot paths, doesn't stray down the alleys, doesn't stop to peek in windows. It's just a stroll.
He happens upon a pod of juvenile yetis seated before a teacher and board. The class pauses with baited breath as he approaches. Sticking to the route etched into the snow, he glances at them as he passes. He's not interested in halting their lessons. He's just passing through. Though, he does briefly feel like an exhibit at the zoo.
His trek eventually takes him to the mouth of the cave he knows Frostbite to be in.
'With Vlad.'
'With Vlad.'
They have to remind each-other that this is a necessary trip. And when or if their roles reverse, Vlad and Plasmius may endure the same feelings.
It takes some time for the thought to sink in. Letting it echo back and forth through the caverns of the scape until they can both swallow it down. They exercise self-control. They choose to pace at the cave entrance. A real feat, when considering his natural instinct and preference to keep any and all entities away from Vlad.
Counting in their head, chittering and chirping with one another, hooves sinking into a depressed path lined in ice and textured with old boot treads... Just being patient. To the best of their ability.
...
"How did he take it?"
Vlad winces as the speculum enters, "I don't think he understands it just yet. He says he does, but I don't believe him."
He folds his arms and drums his right fingers against his opposite bicep. Counting in his head to fixate on the numbers so he doesn't react negatively to the yeti's touch.
"He'll come around eventually. I think the additional heartbeat is what'll do it."
Vlad casts his eyes on the ceiling, "How often do they rut?"
"For normal imps, once every twenty years. For the boy, well, with his human body being permanently adolescent, it might be more frequently than that. The active render I keep of his core suggests once every five years."
"Wonderful," the halfa bites.
"I'd like to think he'll settle down over time. You'll inform me when you know, of course."
Vlad grunts in acknowledgment, "How are they with children?"
"They actually make decent parents. I wouldn't trust one of pure blood to look after one of ours, but to their own, they're surprisingly receptive. Doting, even. The few broods I was able to study before their corruption were very tightly nit and, dare I say it, almost human in their behaviors. Everything from food provisions to group interactions was remarkably similar to some primitive cultures."
"...interesting."
"I would leap at the opportunity to observe for myself, but given that your particular companion felt the need to mark you in triplicate, I think it's better if I keep at a distance. Though I do wonder how well he would...mingle with others... Your cervix is mildly bruised."
Heat rushes through, darkening a flustered pink to a shameful red.
"We've been busy."
"Well, with your body and core providing for another life form, you're not going to heal at the speed you're used to. The pup will be siphoning energy and nutrients in tandem until it's born. With that in mind, you may want to ease up on your activities for a while."
"I took the knot, I can take a bruised cervix."
The faint touches stop there, creating an anxious silence. Vlad winces, expecting the speculum to be removed, but it isn't.
"Say that first part again."
"He knots," the halfa clarifies, "I was going to accuse you of lying to me, but it seems to only happen in the form you observed."
"Admittedly, I was not expecting his body to endure another change. I'll have to scan him again."
"I know," the device slowly slips out and Vlad grits his teeth at the feeling, "I wasn't, either. But it's awfully difficult to argue with the benefits. And the results. ...damn brat actually went and educated himself before he got to me."
Snickering, "So long as he's not forcing you," Frostbite replies as he removes his gloves, "Obviously, give your body a few days of rest. The bruising should resolve itself."
Vlad nods, "You mentioned the heartbeat. In humans, that's detectable as early as 6 weeks. There's nothing there, presently."
"How far along are you?"
Vlad sits up when his legs are released from the stirrups. He keeps the sheet covering his lap and grates his nails against it as he thinks.
"Thirteen weeks."
"Really? I expected you to be much further along."
"You expected him to jump on me immediately," the halfa grumbles.
"He was practically foaming at the mouth for you for several years. I was honestly surprised when you didn't show up a month after he moved in," Frostbite passes him the stack of his folded clothes and turns his back to let him dress, "In any case, you need to remember; in ghosts, it's not a heart, but a core. This is a child that will have both. I can't say for certain when the first heartbeat will be detected. It is, after all, the first half-ghost pregnancy on record. I'm afraid there isn't much to guide you with. But come to me when you finally hear it."
Vlad sighs and stands to redress "I hate making things up as I go."
...
The flight home is quiet and uneventful.
Their arrival is known only to them and the walls of their sanctuary.
The sun is beginning to set, and it dawns on the older halfa just how much time has passed. How much they spent in the Ghost Zone was more than intended.
After depositing his bag and shedding his winter clothes in their bedroom, he changes into his pajamas for comfort and goes down to the kitchen to cook. Danny reverts to his human form and joins him in the kitchen to help. They prep their meal in comfortable silence. Without interruptions, without stray touches. They bask in the company of each-other. There's solace in their unity. Mutual, simple, oddly perfect. Not everything can be about sex. The sex certainly helps, but there's more to it than that.
Danny sets the table so Vlad can serve. They eat off the only two plates remaining from a set of four. Somewhere on the floor, there's a stray piece of glass from each lost dish hidden from view. Soon to be more. As they sit and eat together, side by side, Danny's world blurs with a multitude senses. Chaotic in orchestration, but that chaos is the method in the madness.
Paint smears. Marker streaks. Magnets and candy. More broken dishes. Crying, screaming, arguing, grounding, giggles and hearty laughter. Sticky surfaces. Syrup on the floor. Glue and glitter deface the countertops while gum sticks under the island. Burnt toast, vinegar, cooking oil and a cacophony of spices. There's a dead buck somewhere in the manor, he's not sure where.
His brain is assaulted with domestic bedlam in every bite. The fingers on his left hand jerk and tap at the tabletop while he tries to process it all with his meal. Each of his senses cloud and flood, threatening to overwhelm him. Whenever he blinks, it replays in a different order.
Warmth approaches his hand as Vlad moves to take a hold of it to calm him. The grip tightens unforgivingly upon contact and they both stiffen in their seat. Their forks drop out of their grasps and clatter against their plates.
For Vlad, the peril of the world around him bouncing all over the axis of time.
For Danny, every color known to man and about fifty thousand other shades not yet found.
It's sensory overload on all fronts. Very nearly unbearable. By the time the universe closes the door on each mind, their food has gone cold. All they can do is stare at each other in new fascination as their hearts pound in their chests.
They finish their food, taking it as it lies and shove their dishes aside. Afterwards, they curl up in bed. They cling together with eyes wide open and focused on nothing in particular. Hot and cold in a simple embrace, sharing core energy the way their second existence intended. Several hours pass them by before they pass out.
Their cue that it'll happen, that every scrap of their shared vision will come to be, doesn't announce itself until a few weeks later.
Danny returns from another morning walk to hear a strange pulsing in the manor halls. Hiding in the distance, buried beneath his own heart and core. He's alarmed that he's unable to place it.
Stalking the corridors as quietly as he can, in an effort to find the source, he finds himself being lured up the stairs and down the hallway to the only door that hangs open.
Their room.
Vlad is just sitting up when he enters, torn between feeling horror and happiness while he watches the imp come into the space. There's a book in his lap that falls to the floor with his movements.
Danny's head tilts in curiosity as he listens. Vlad remains still, afraid of startling him. He heaves a shuddering breath when the youth brings a knee up onto the bed to get closer. His face flushes slightly as the creature moves in.
Cyan and soot rove over his form, darting this way and that to place the exact origin point and Vlad remains steady. He gulps as the youth's view eventually starts to frequent a particular point on his body.
Just when Danny's eyes lock onto his midsection, it falls off the pattern with its host.
Barely an echo before, a chorus in the moment of silence.
It resounds out of sync only once.
Once is enough.
They both hear it.

...FIN...
- 70
- 71
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