tagNovels and NovellasReach Out For The Sunrise Ch. 10

Reach Out For The Sunrise Ch. 10


© Sadie Rose Bermingham & Bellora Quinn 2010


Greetings! We promised that this one wouldn't take long, didn't we. See how well we keep our word. We definitely owe you some hotness after all we've put you through so we hope that you like this fresh offering.

To any new readers out there, Sunrise is essentially a vampire story so if you don't like boy on boy or bloodsucking in your sex-scenes then skip to the next tale. Have a nice day.



Xavier woke to muddy daylight coming through the window and rubbed his eyes with a yawn. He was surprised Marco hadn't woken him at stupid o'clock in the morning again but got up and dug around for some clothes grateful for the extra rest. The first thing that came to hand was a tee shirt with the word Diva written in silvery script across the front and black slacks that fit rather snug through the waist and hips. They would do.

He noticed that the door to Marco's bedroom was still closed and was even more surprised. Xav guessed he must have finally crashed. The photographer really did need to slow down on the coke if the last couple days were any indication of his habit.

At a loose end, Xav wandered upstairs into the studio. He didn't exactly know what to do with himself and ended up just sitting and looking out the window. Being left alone with his thoughts wasn't something he wanted for long though and after a little while he got back up and went over to the stereo. He turned it on, scrolled through some classical stations until he found what he was looking for, then pulled a full length mirror from the corner where the rest of the props were and set it against one wall.

He didn't have a barre but that was okay, he could do without. He started with piles and worked through a series of simple eleves, battements, and rond de jambe to warm up and then got into some more serious steps.

When Marco finally rolled out of bed he went first to the kitchen to start coffee and then followed the trail of sound curiously. Certainly the choice of music this morning was a far cry from what he knew Xavier usually listened to. He stopped at the top of the stairs and stared bemused at what he found. Watching, he leaned against one wall and folded his arms and his bemused expression settled into appreciation as he realised Xavier wasn't just fooling around but actually knew what he was doing. Marco wasn't sure what surprised him more, that he most certainly had been classically trained in ballet at some point or that he apparently cared enough about it to want to practice it still.

Marco waited until he was at a finishing point then gave up a small but genuine round of applause. Xavier turned and swept a bow without missing a beat, letting him know that he'd already been spotted, and Marco laughed. Xavier moved to the stereo and switched it off.

"You're up late," Xavier said.

Marco nodded. "Sleep catches up to you eventually, even when there's work to do. Come down and have coffee with me?"

Xavier followed the photographer downstairs and sat on one of the barstools at the kitchen counter while Marco poured thick black coffee into a pair of chunky mugs. Xavier added large doses of cream and sugar to his.

"You are full of surprises, Mr. Gavrilov."

Xav raised his brows inquiringly while he sipped at the hot coffee.

"How come you don't dance at the theatre rather than a strip club?"

Xavier snorted softly. "Because I make more money at the club, for one thing."

"Is that all you care about? Making money?"

"Yes," Xavier answered flatly, because he hoped that would stop Marco's casual inquisition.

The photographer wasn't put off though. He smiled knowingly at Xavier.

"That's not true or you would already be working for PJ McNamara."

Xavier took another sip of his coffee, refusing to look up. He'd already resisted this line of interrogation from Palo and was not about to rise to it now.

"So how did you become interested in ballet?" Marco asked, perhaps sensing a change of topic was necessary.

Xavier lifted one shoulder in a little shrug. "My mom loved it. She worked at a theatre..." He waved his hand before Marco got the wrong idea. "She wasn't a dancer, she worked on sets and costumes." He paused for a second, lost in the memory then said; "When I was little she would take me to watch the shows."

Marco fell quiet too for a moment, conscious perhaps that he would not get more out of the boy. It was already more that Xavier had said about himself in all the time they had been working together.

"Xavier, I hate to ask," he said at last, "but I'm not feeling well today. Do you think we can postpone the last shoot until tomorrow? I know we only agreed on one more day..."

Ordinarily Xavier would have bargained with him, but he was in a mellow mood and Marco really did look fucked.

"Alright... sure." It wasn't like he had any pressing engagements. He could stay another day before heading back to Aldo's.

As he was thinking about this, his phone rang and he reached for it, then answered when he saw it was PJ. After a somewhat cheerful, if distracted, greeting PJ said he had news, finally.

"Mikka found Rayne, Xav. He found him and he's...he's okay."

Xavier was so surprised he missed the slight hesitation in PJ's voice. "He's okay?"

"Yes. He's alive. I thought you'd want to know."

The instant feeling of relief and elation lasted all of ten seconds.

"Oh..." Rayne was okay. That was good. Very good news. He'd been so worried... and he had been so sure that something terrible had happened. He realised he had been quiet for several seconds. "Oh..." he said again, softer. "That's...I'm so glad he's okay..."

God! How stupid could he get? There was nothing wrong, Xav thought, closing his eyes as an embarrassed heat crept up his neck. He'd panicked Aldo and PJ in the middle of the night for nothing! He'd made a big fuss, and made PJ call Dominic and have Mikka go searching for Rayne and...oh, god... What had Rayne thought when Mikka found him and told him that Xavier had made a big deal out of nothing and sent him out hunting for him? He'd probably had a laugh about that. Or more likely he was annoyed.

"Xavier..." PJ started to say more but Xav cut him off.

"I'm sorry PJ... I guess...well, I don't know what...I must have been dreaming after all." His sigh was so soft the phone barely picked it up and then he cleared his throat. "Listen PJ, Marco's asked me to stay another day and I told him I would, so... I'll call you later." He paused. "Thanks for letting me know he's okay," he said in a very small disconsolate tone.

"Xav..." PJ tried again, and then he let go his own small sigh, apparently deciding that saying more would not do much good at the moment. "I'll talk to you later," he promised and then they both hung up.

Xavier looked at the mobile in his hand for a moment after the call ended and was glad Marco wanted to postpone things. He looked up from the phone.

"I'm going to go out for a while," he said. "I'll see you later."

Five minutes later Xavier was out the door and headed down the street. He supposed that today he was just going to end up alone with his thoughts no matter what. Rayne was fine. He'd panicked needlessly. Great! Ray was fine and he obviously wanted to be left alone. Why did he have to go and do such a stupid thing? Rayne probably thought this was some stunt to try and get him to come back, or that this was Xavier's way of trying to hold on to him, or something. He wouldn't be surprised if PJ and the others thought so too, even if PJ had been gentle with him on the phone. He felt like a complete idiot.

But...he knew what he'd felt. He hadn't been dreaming. The pain was too real. The fear had been tangible. Utterly desolate Xavier wandered on, not really seeing anything of the world around him. He couldn't even trust his own feelings any more.


It took a lot of persuasion on Dominic Warren's behalf to get Rayne out of the clinic. Mikkal had not been wrong to presume that the medics and scientists, having gotten their gory hands on the little vampire, would not be so willing to let him out of their clutches. Only after several hours of delicate negotiation and no small amount of financial bribery were they finally able to leave the Insititute with Rayne Wylde.

The vampire had fed from both men and was now curled up like a sleepy child on the back seat of a taxi with Dominic's arm around his shoulders. Mikka glanced back from the front passenger seat at him, still concerned.

"Is he okay?" he asked for about the fifteenth time since they left the building.

"He's fine," Dominic retorted through clenched teeth. "Just let him be, Mikkal. He's been to hell and back. If he was going to attack anyone he would have done it by now. He needs to build his strength and to rest."

Rayne had not spoken since he came to his senses but he looked at them both like a small, hungry cat waiting by its food bowl. Mikka found that stare a bit unnerving. There was a fearful intensity to his eyes, the pupils wide and dark in the swimming paleness of his face, which made him very uneasy. Mikka had never been good with animals and the little creature in the back seat of the cab was currently more animal than human.

Though technically he was neither, the Finn reminded himself bitterly.

He called Patrick and relayed the news that Rayne was conscious which was at least greeted with some relief by his lover. He did not mention that he had preferred it when the vampire was still out of it.

For the remainder of the day Rayne slept in Mikka's suite at the hotel. Mikka popped some amphetamines and went out to supervise the shoot, although Vaz had assured him over the phone that everything was going just fine without him. He needed something to do and he also needed to be out of Rayne's way.

Dominic did not seem to mind being left alone in the hotel room with the vampire, although Mikka had already decided that the Englishman was madder than a box of coke-addled frogs. He was not Warren's keeper though, and when Dominic seemed unruffled by the prospect he showered and changed and set off out. He was halfway down the stairs when he ran into Trent coming back up looking even more exhausted than the vampire. He clearly hadn't been to bed either though the twinkle in his eyes said that his night had been more enjoyable than his boss's.

"We've still got company. You might want to come down to the studio with me," Mikka suggested lightly but Trent just shook his head.

"I'm cool. I'll crash on the sofa," the boy told him with a grin. "Just wanna get my head down. I'm not on the shoot-schedule 'til next week."

Mikka was less than happy with that, but Trent was not a little kid. He could look after himself, he guessed. They exchanged a brief kiss and Mikka wished him sweet dreams and then they went their separate ways.

In the car he fished his phone out again and called the number of the club, la Griffe. He had promised to let Szarbo know how Rayne went on and whatever his feelings were about the other man, he generally kept his word. Henning Szarbo had seemed genuinely concerned for the vampire after all. The call was brief but Szarbo seemed grateful for the news and wished them well. Mikka turned off his phone and headed for the studio. If he buried himself in some work for the afternoon perhaps he could forget about the previous night for a little while.

Back at the hotel, Trent heard the hiss and splash of running water from the bathroom and took advantage of the situation to retrieve some of his clothing and toiletries from the bedroom. Whilst he was doing so he whistled softly and appreciatively at the sight of the naked young guy in Mikka's bed, sprawled on his back, dead to the world. He was pale-skinned and so thin that you could see his bones but there was a understated elegance to that lean frame as well. His long fingers were draped loosely over his chest and one thigh and he had a nice-looking cock lying at rest in the hollow of his hipbone. There was no hair anywhere on his body, apart from a little dusting of shade on the backs of his slender arms and the tangle on his head that almost obscured his pretty face.

"Lucky old faggot!" Trent chuckled knowingly. "No wonder he was so keen to find you, baby!"

Trent reached out tentatively and stroked a hank of that dark forelock out of their guest's eyes. The face beneath was ashen and very pretty. The guy was probably about 26 or 27, and he looked like he'd had a rough night. There was dried blood around his mouth and his hair felt dirty and matted. He felt really cold too. Trent leaned closer, registering with some alarm that the young man did not seem to be breathing.

"Oh man!" he muttered, taking a step back from the bed. "Oh man! What to do?"

"It's okay, don't panic," the Englishman said soothingly from the doorway that led into the bathroom. Trent had been so wound up that he didn't even hear the shower stop running. "He'll be fine, Trent. He just needs to rest for a while."

"He's dead, man!" Trent protested fearfully, worrying that the English guy was maybe a nutter and he'd killed the boy in the bed and now he was going to do Trent as well.

"Yes... but he's been dead for quite a few years now. He's used to it. Trust me."

Dominic patted him on the shoulder and came to sit beside the dead youth lying sprawled on their bed. He was wearing a bath sheet around his waist and rubbing at his hair with another, smaller towel. Now he reached out and curled his fingers around one of the lifeless young man's cold, pale hands. Slowly he circled the pad of his thumb against the dead man's palm and as Trent watched, both horrified and fascinated, the guy on the bed closed his own fingers around Dominic's thumb, holding on to it tightly.

"How'd you make him do that?" Trent asked, breathless with fear.

"He did it all on his own, darling. Why don't you come and say hi?" Dominic looked up at him with a little smile.

As Trent put his hands on the edge of the mattress, leaning closer for a better look, the dead boy opened his eyes and he jumped back with a little yelp.

"Jesus Christ!"

The pale green eyes staring back at him went wide and scared and the black haired youth huddled up like a little hedgehog and tried to hide behind Dominic. He was still holding Lord Warren's thumb possessively. Now he lifted it to his lips and sucked on the tip of it like a baby with a comforter.

There was nothing babyish about the look in his eyes though. The way he suckled on the other man's thumb was almost enough to give Trent a serious hard-on.

"Owww!" Lord Warren protested suddenly, distracting them both. "Rayne! That wasn't very polite!"

When he retrieved his thumb it was bleeding quite profusely. The pretty young man just looked at the blood and licked his lips. Then he took Dominic's hand almost tenderly in both of his own and began to suck on the wounded digit again. His eyes closed as he nodded his head over Dominic's bloody hand and Trent caught his breath, his own fingers sliding to his crotch, stroking himself eagerly.

"Jesus!" he whispered. "That shouldn't be so hot, but... man!"

He shook his head slowly. Dominic smiled at him and automatically the horny teen stopped fondling his bulging groin, a flush rising to his cheeks. "Umm..."

"It's okay," Dominic murmured. "I know what you mean. There is something very sensual about the way he feeds. It's even better when he takes it from your neck; very intimate, in fact."

"He's... he's a vampire?" Trent exhaled incredulously. "For real?"

"Oh yes," Dominic confirmed. "He's the real deal. His name is Rayne, do you want to say hello?"

Trent swallowed. "He looks kind of... busy."

Dominic was stroking Rayne's dark hair and he murmured; "Ray, why don't you say hello to Trent? He's a lovely lad, I'm sure the two of you will get along like a house on fire."

"He's the guy you were looking for? The singer?" Trent asked nervously.

"That's right. He used to front a band called Whipsnade, but that was a few years ago. You probably won't remember them, I'd have thought." Dominic sat back, trying to extricate his thumb from Rayne's mouth. "Come on, darling. That's enough now," he said at last, pulling a little harder until the small, hungry vampire was encouraged to relinquish his snack.

"How'd he get to be a vampire?" Trent probed, unable to take his eyes off Rayne, who was looking quite put out at the loss of Dominic's thumb. He was so damned pretty! Almost girlishly pretty in fact. When those green eyes slid upward unexpectedly and stared directly into his own, the shock was like having an ice cube dropped down his back. Long black eyelashes framed that shivery, unblinking stare and the little vampire licked his bloody lips again.

"Uhhh..." Trent breathed out nervously. "H-hi!"

Rayne glanced quickly at Dominic, who nodded his head in silence. When he looked back at Trent, the smile that curved his lips had very sharp little teeth behind it.

"Xavier?" he queried, huskily. It was the first thing Trent had heard him say and that voice made him shiver as well; deeper and huskier than he had expected but almost musical as well.

"No darling, that's not Xavier. Although he does have something of a look of Xav about him," Dominic soothed with a smile. "And his accent is very similar, isn't it?" He smiled at Trent too now. "Rayne's still a little confused, I think. But you're having a positive effect on him. That's the first thing I've heard him say since we brought him back."

"Who's Xavier?" Trent asked warily. "What happened to him?"

"He's fine, Trent. Nothing happened to Xavier. He and Rayne were lovers for a little while before Rayne came to Paris and got... got hurt."

"And now he can't even remember if I'm his boyfriend?" Trent grimaced. "What kind of thing hurt him? A ten ton truck?"

"We still don't really know the answer to that," Dominic said diplomatically. "Rayne came as close to death as anyone I've ever known. Somehow he survived. Every minute that he lives he grows a little stronger. So we need to help him as much as possible, okay?"

"How do we do that?" Trent asked sceptically.

"We try and be kind to him," Dominic explained. "And... and we let him feed if we can."

"You mean, let him bite me?" The teen looked anxious.

"If you want him to," Dominic said gently. "No one is going to force you, Trent. Especially not if you're HIV positive like Mikka."

"He told you?" Trent looked appalled.

"No. He didn't have to," Dominic responded amiably. "Your expression, just then, told me. I'm not going to criticise or pity you, Trent. I just think it's better if this kind of thing can be discussed openly."

"I'm not gay or anything," Trent protested warily. "I mean... I have a girlfriend. She's positive as well. I had a Junk habit, back in Cali, that's how I got infected. But I never even fucked a guy until I met Mikka. On my mother's life!"

"Like I said, no one is going to force you to do anything you don't want," Dominic soothed him.

Rayne was still looking at him solemnly, those jewel bright eyes roaming all over him and making Trent shudder each time they met his own. His smile had wilted though and the younger man thought that he looked rather sad now; small and lonely, huddled up against Dominic, eyes flickering listlessly towards the older man whenever he sensed he was being discussed.

"I could do with getting Ray in the shower anyway, now that he's awake," Lord Warren said at last, heaving a little sigh.

"Um... I guess I could do that," Trent ventured. "I mean, you've already had a shower and I kinda need one."

"Are you okay with that?" Dominic asked him. "Being alone with him, I mean? He's still quite weak, but he can be a bit pushy when he's hungry."

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