Darling Boy (Part 1)
[See Author's Note]
July 2008
“Insatiable little thing... You drive me wild, Darling…” a low, saccharine voice husked against Hugo’s painfully perked ear. He whined when long, thin fingers delved underneath his brown corduroy slacks. They fondled his tiny prick and soft bollocks just enough to make him squirm despite his efforts to remain intolerant.
“No, I don’t. Stop it. I hate you!” Hugo weakly argued, fisting his hands into the other man’s handsome suit and trying to push him away.
“Now, why would you go and say something like that?” The voice turned cruelly contemplative against his neck and the young man shivered, hating his brain for being reprogrammed to adore the man behind the voice, “Do I have to remind you what you do to me?”
“P-please… D-don’t!” Hugo sobbed, trying to curl into himself.
Heady breathing and a dark chuckle met his ears, a warm and wet tongue following behind to soothe the ache building in the teen’s belly, “As if you ever had a choice, Darling…”
It began when he was six.
★★★
January 1995
Wind swept in from the barely-frozen sea, the wisps of frost spinning and twirling atop the pristine, snow-covered ice. The towering pines, oaks, and willows looked like they’d been dipped in it, their branches and needles cradling a fresh layer. Flakes trickled to the undisturbed ground, only broken by the small crunching footsteps of a small boy in blue.
His little mittens pushed and shoved at the white boulder that stood nearly to his belly button, his dark, fur-lined boots digging into the ground. Hugo crouched, reddened cheeks puffing at the effort to move his creation. After a moment, the ball moved an inch, and then another, and another. The boy giggled, rolling it to the center of the yard. He wanted his parents to see it.
Something hit him in the back, harshly. A quick flicker of pain spiked up his right shoulder, sending him sprawling forward to wrap his arms around the snowball. He yelped, head quickly turning around to see what had hit him. Little chunks of snow littered the back of his jacket, leading him to notice another little boy standing mischievously in the trees.
The other boy’s eyes held an eerie green glow, something just as predatory as they were beautiful, not that Hugo noticed the former. He was more interested in the color. He’d never seen eyes like that before, and his father could have blue, amber, or red eyes depending on his mood. The blue was his favorite, he thought, a brilliant sky blue that reminded him of summertime. It took him a moment to realize that the boy with the emerald eyes was speaking, rolling another snowball between his own mittens to throw at him.
“Hahaha! Got you!” he beckoned Hugo over with a rapid swipe of his arm, “C’mon! There’s so much more fun to have in the woods over here.”
Hugo frowned, shaking his head nervously enough that his stocking cap threatened to fall off, “My Daddy says I’m not supposed to go in the woods. I have to stay here if I want to play outside.”
The other boy shook his own covered head, almost knowingly, “That’s a stupid rule. You should be able to go wherever you want, whenever you want. Besides, It’ll just be for a few minutes. He won’t even know you’re gone.”
Hugo looked to the house and then back to the other boy, who’d seemingly got a bit closer, “No, thank you. I already started building this snowman here, anyway.”
The other boy seemed put-out, but reluctantly stepped into the yard, “Can I help?”
“Sure,” Hugo smiled, beginning to roll up the second ball for the snowman’s middle.
The other boy bounded over, reminding Hugo of his little brother in the way he seemed to partner his hands and feet to aid his quicker movements across the snow-covered ground. When they stood toe to toe, Hugo realized that the green-eyed stranger was a few inches taller than him. At first, it didn’t feel like much of a difference, but then the boy tilted his head down, sending a shadow across his eyes in a way that made the young hybrid feel small, extraordinarily so. A part of him wanted to be cradled in the warmth he could feel radiating off of the taller boy. It reminded him of someone, but he couldn't place the familiar feeling.
“Hi, I’m Hugo,” the smaller boy smiled politely, looking very much like his mother.
“E,” the taller boy returned, reaching down to take Hugo’s mitten-covered hand in his. A crooked toothy smile revealed itself, again somehow reminding him of his father, “Would you play with me?”
“Sure, but I want to make this snowman first, kay?” Hugo nodded, turning around and kneeling in a fresh patch of snow to gather and roll it up.
“Kay,” the other boy tested the shortened word out on his tongue, liking the crispness of it almost half as much as he liked the boy who introduced him to it.
He understood the basic principle of what Hugo was trying to do, so he crouched over another nearby patch and began making a smaller snowball for the head. In a matter of moments, he was done, holding a smooth basketball-sized snowman head in his hands.
Looking at Hugo, he noticed that the boy seemed to be struggling a bit with the middle ball. With his heightened hearing, he could practically feel the blood pulsing through his veins, the air seeping and puffing through his lungs. A droplet of sweat trickled slowly down his exposed temple. Eckles purred and licked his lip, wanting to taste it for himself. However, it was the gentle bucking of Hugo’s hips as he tried and failed to push the ball out of the ice patch it was born from that did him in. His own warmth wasn’t doing the nearby environment any favors, it was subtly melting and refreezing the snow nearby.
“Hey, E, could you help me?” Hugo huffed tiredly, “It’s stuck.”
“Of course,” the other boy smirked, coming up behind the boy and bracketing his arms and legs around him, hands lifting from the bottom and legs from outside Hugo’s. The position had his chin resting comfortably in the crook of the unknowing boy’s left shoulder. His nose brushed Hugo’s nape, being rewarded with a soft, tart citrus scent with undertones of chocolate and old paper. His darling boy was a reader, and as the opportunist that he was, he filed that particular piece of information away for later. Here and now, he wanted to give his full, undivided attention.
“Uhh… what are you doing?” Hugo whined quietly, feeling a bit trapped.
“I’m getting ready to push this ball over to the other one,” he internally scowled at Hugo’s demand. Questioning his growing love for him was simply intolerable.
The two boys pushed the middle snowball over to the other one, leading them to lift the smaller ball onto it. It was a struggle, but Hugo managed to settle it by partially climbing up onto the larger ball and smoothing out a furrow for the middle to rest inside. Done, he tried to slide back down the larger snowball, only to be blocked by the other boy’s pelvis. He frowned, trying to touch the ground with his boots but there was about two inches between the tips of his boots and the snow-covered lawn. Pressed between the hard, icy bottom section of the snowman and the boy’s middle, Hugo felt the urge to wriggle out of the strange hold.
“E—”
“I have a new game for us to play,” the green-eyed boy grabbed his covered hips, making him freeze, “It will be fun.”
“Uhh, okay, E.”
Hugo felt something strange push into his covered bum. It was hard, but soft at the same time. Something twanged in his belly, sending a tingling sensation through his nethers in a way he wasn’t sure he understood. Even so, his small penis and bollocks were beginning to feel squished, a sensation that was becoming gradually uncomfortable. Eckles pressed himself closer, his front to Hugo’s shoulders. His arm encircled his target’s waist, pressing the hybrid even closer. He thirsted to lap at the boy’s ears and lips, wanting to taste every fluid that could come from his young body. Instead, he pressed his nose into Hugo’s nape, purring into the soft peach-scented hair.
Then, it happened again, and again, and again. The taller boy’s hips moved, gently rubbing something both hard and squishy against Hugo’s bum. With each press, Hugo’s clothed genitals were pressed into harder snow and ice, making him whine with each pass. It seemed to excite his new friend, making the cycle faster and faster. Hot breath tickled the skin on the back of his neck, making him tremble at the difference between it and the cold air around him.
Hugo felt himself beginning to bounce back and forth between the other boy’s pelvis and the snowman’s, and the dual warm and cold sensations associated with both were beginning to make him feel dizzy.
“E…” he whined, “What is this game? I feel funny…”
Eckles stopped, letting Hugo rest against the large snowman. He rubbed along the boy’s arched spine, summoning the snowball he’d made before. Titling his head up, Hugo watched him place the head on top of the body and secure it. Little pretty gasps left his mouth as he continued their “game” with smaller and quicker thrusts.
“It’s a super secret game called ‘Hide the Sausage’, but this is only the first part of the game, you’re not ready to play all of it.
“Why not?” Hugo whined, a part of him starting to enjoy this new game.
“Because we aren’t best friends, silly! Only best friends get to hide the sausage. Everyone knows that,” E stated matter-of-factly, purring.
“I want to play. How do I be your best friend?” Hugo panted, feeling a strangely enjoyable warm, leaking sensation in his underwear.
“Well, first, I have to give you something to show both you and other people that we’re best friends.”
“Oh! Rosie has a bunch of friendship bracelets. Can we do that, too?”
E delivered a particularly sharp, full-bodied thrust, making Hugo whine as the hardness made contact with his pulsing hole. It was confusing and tingling and exciting all at once.
“Those bracelets can break. I want to do something better, something that won’t break.”
“Oh… Okay, E—oh~” Hugo nodded rapidly, at a loss for words.
Eckles smirked against his nephew’s neck, delicately pulling the boy’s knit scarf to the side, a sharp contrast to what he was about to do to his poor pale flesh. However, the movement of the scarf pushed scents of the boy’s mother in front of him. She’d likely made the scarf herself, the beautiful, genius, intoxicating breeder that she was. Before he’d set his eyes on the next best thing, he'd been trying to find a way to steal Mrs. Hermione Gray from his intolerable older brother. The feelings had slowly dulled over the last few weeks, and he’d done too much grovelling and pretending to his sires and brother to stop what he was doing now.
Now, oh, the tiny body underneath him promised great things. He was beautifully receptive, even as young as he was. He was his mother’s son, with her delightful brown hair and brown eyes, slender frame, and bell-like voice. His giggle could light up a room, and he could already tell that his mind would match Hermione’s. There was virtually nothing of his brother in him, a fact that made him smile every second he watched the boy go about his daily life. If anything, he’d hoped his brother's genes had made the boy more durable and malleable, considering how rough he knew he could be when the mood struck him.
His teeth sharpened, and his nose trailed along the area that would soon bear his mark. He couldn’t fully claim him now, not with how young Hugo was, but he could at least give him a few teeth. His brother wouldn’t catch it for a long while, maybe not until Hugo was old enough for him to complete the mark entirely. His scent wouldn’t linger for more than a moment, which made the partial mark ideal for his purposes. No one else would know he was claimed, but Hugo would, and Eckles would be able to feel him even when they were apart. Perfect.
Eckles struck, digging only three sharp fangs into the area between Hugo’s neck and left shoulder. The child bucked once, a short high-pitched cry leaving his shocked mouth as the teeth went in and came back out in a single second. Blood welled from the wounds, quickly lapped up by Eckles’ awaiting tongue. The combined pain and soothing tongue made Hugo reel up against his future mate in something halfway to a death roll.
“Shh…” Eckles crooned, gentling his young intended with a few fingers in his hair and a few on his chest, “Good boy… We did it, Hugo. We’re best friends forever, now.” Eckles’ fingers pressed promisingly into Hugo’s nape, causing him to fall limp and calm.
“Oh… We are?” he breathed, twitching, “...My penis feels weird.”
Eckles cooed, resituating Hugo so his lower region wasn’t squished anymore. To his delight, he could smell the beginnings of either slick or seminal fluid coming from the boy. He would play nice for now, not wanting to overwhelm him at the moment, but sooner or later, he would understand what Eckles expected of him.
“Does it hurt?” he probed, resisting the urge to take the small genitals in hand, even through Hugo’s snow pants.
Hugo shook his head, rotating his hips experimentally. Eckles growled a bit at the display, “Good boy… Can you look at me, Darling?”
Hugo looked at him, doe-like eyes blinking expectantly. Eckles unhinged his jaw and displayed his trio of emerald deadlights, lulling the boy into his own unconscious mind. Leaving him milky-eyed, Eckles put his deadlights away and took Hugo’s face into his hands, fondly rubbing his plump, frostbitten cheeks.
“Hear me now, my darling Hugo… As long as I live, I will protect and cherish you, and love you with every spark of my being. No one can know what we did today, because they would try to separate us, and we just can’t let that happen. I will wait to have you fully. I am patient, and I know you can be as well, perhaps even better than I. We have other parts to play now, but in a few short years, I will have you in my arms again, unrestricted, and mine… I hate hiding our first true moment together, even from you, but it must be done. I will see you soon, Darling… Now, awaken.”
Eckles, or E, pressed a quick kiss to his small claiming mark and vanished just as Hugo snapped out of his trance. He slid down the snowman’s torso, feeling much more tired than he had been before. He shook his head, stumbling toward the house, wet and cold. His muscles felt sore, like he’d been wound up into a little ball, like a beetle under its hard shell.
He grabbed the stairs’ railing, dragging himself up the steps and collapsing against the door. Pennywise found him a bit later, immediately snatching him up to bring him into the house.
★★★
Hugo hadn’t realized he’d fallen asleep until he felt his mother wrapping him up in what felt like a solid cocoon of blankets.
“Mum?” he whined, swatting weakly at her hand when she moved to feel his forehead.
“It’s alright, little love. Mummy’s here… You stayed outside too long, but Daddy found you and brought you inside,” she knelt next to his bed while his father sat at the foot of his bed, a stressed amber sheen in his eyes tainting his otherwise human form. Roman sat in the large crook of their father’s arm, looking green around the figurative gills. He gagged, spitting dark bile into a small bucket that Pennywise held underneath his chin.
“You’re running a mild fever,” she continued, “So, you’ll need to stay in bed until it breaks, okay?”
“Okay…” Hugo nodded once, sighing when Hermione placed an ice pack on his forehead.
“Romie’s got a bit of food poisoning from eating one of Rosie’s chocolate bunnies, so we’re going to take him to a doctor to make sure he’ll be alright,” Hermione added, looking to her youngest and feeling torn between staying for either son.
“So, we asked your Uncle Eckles to come stay with you,” she explained, gathering her purse and standing up to hold Roman, “He’ll be here soon.”
“Okay,” Hugo rasped as they left the room. He blinked, his eyes struggling to stay open. After a moment, sleep took him again. He drifted for a while, feeling as though he were floating in a dark, scorching void. A familiar melodic voice called to him, and he followed it. Soft hands touched his face, wiping the sweat and water from his brow.
Eckles raised his now damp fingertips to his lips and tongue, tasting his darling’s subtle transformation through his sweat, the transformation that he caused by passing his own saliva into the boy’s human-like bloodstream. He would be closer to his younger siblings now, more eldritch, even if he still appeared to be solely human. It was for the best, Eckles decided. If he’d been older, his body would have handled it easier, but he would recover nevertheless, so he was relatively unconcerned.
He sat in the nearby armchair, catching the lingering scent of his beloved in the upholstery. This was where he read from his books, feeling all sorts of emotions toward the characters and events of each tome. It was simply adorable and amazing that this little pup could feel so much emotion. Delicious, Eckles considered how he would have devoured Hugo had he been a meal instead of a mate. Perhaps he would have channeled his mother, eating him whole, only to keep him inside so he could wither away slowly over decades. Such a morsel was meant to be cherished. Of course, he would never let anyone eat Hugo, even himself.
So, he watched, and waited, and watched some more. His brother’s other pups drifted in and out of the room intermittently, wanting to check on their brother and witness what it looked like to become feverish. None of them had ever experienced as much as a common cold, let alone a full-blown fever.
Hugo awoke after sunset, his brown eyes inhumanly reflecting the hall light subtly in the darkness of the room. Eckles’ emerald eyes twinkled fondly back, delighting in the new quality to his darling’s eyes. They reminded him of a cat’s, though the youth’s bedhead made him further resemble a lion. He would be cute and fierce when he aged, and Eckles greatly looked forward to it. Oh, the games they will play...
“Uncle Eckles?” he rasped, his voice tired from sleep.
“Good evening, Darling,” he greeted quietly, handing Hugo a glass of water.
The boy took it, clasping the heavy glass within delicate fingers. He moved to bring it to his lips, but Eckles placed a straw in it and slowly guided it to his mouth. Hugo obediently latched on, suckling slowly and quietly in the soft silence of the room.
“Are you feeling any better?” Hugo nodded in response, despite the persistent flush to his cheeks saying otherwise.
“Hungry?” Eckles prompted, getting another nod from the boy.
“Your parents are home now. I can hear your mother resting with Roman on the couch, and your father is making dinner. It’s chicken soup. Would you want some?” Another nod.
Eckles stood up, moving to the door to retrieve some of the soup. Hugo’s voice stopped him. “Wait,” he gasped.
The eldritch turned around, his eyes glowing hopefully in his backlit silhouette, “Yes, Darling?”
“I…” Hugo pouted, a new flush coming to his cheeks and watery eyes, “Hold me…”
“...Of course, Darling,” Eckles smiled fondly, striding over to indulge him and trying not to express the full amount of joy over what he was getting away with. He sat on the mattress and brought Hugo into his arms, careful to keep him covered by the warm blankets. Thin legs wrapped loosely around his hips, equally thin arms wrapping around his torso. A bushy head rested on his purring chest, and he couldn’t help but run his fingers through the dense curls. He also couldn’t help but drag his fingers up the boy’s neck, tilting his chin up, and placing a lingering kiss on his cheek. It was entirely worth the staggered hitch of Hugo’s breath, followed by a quiet purr of his own.
Hugo’s skin wasn’t saturated by fever like it had been before, but there was a richer, sweeter undertone to his scent. He sampled the flavor again, pressing another kiss to his opposite cheek. The hybrid cuddled him tighter and closed his eyes contentedly, not understanding what suddenly drew him to his uncle, but being too tired and weak to care.
He rubbed against the older male, feeling something strange happening to his lower region. Daddy told him about it once, that it was perfectly normal, but only belonged in the bedroom. Hugo looked down. They were in the bedroom, he supposed, and it felt like his uncle was experiencing the same thing. It was so much bigger than his. He wondered if the older eldritch played with himself sometimes, too.
“Can you tell me something, Hugo?” Eckles rubbed his back and pressed a kiss to his right temple.
“Mmm,” he hummed, feeling like a cat resting in its favorite spot in the sun.
“Who is your favorite person?” Eckles prompted blankly, pressing a bit harder into the massage. Hugo whined happily, hugging him closer.
“I dunno… Mum?” Hugo sighed.
“Good choice,” he praised reluctantly, wishing for a more preferred answer and trying to keep still so as not to directly encourage his nephew’s actions, “Your mother is one of my favorites, too, perhaps even my second favorite person… Who else do you like?”
Hugo shrugged, still feeling sleepy, “I like Daddy, and Rosie, Robbie, Tommy, Penny, and Romie…”
Eckles scowled at the mention of his brother, adjusting the boy until he could directly inhale the coaxing pheromones seeping through his neck, “Anybody else? How about at school? Your friends?”
Hugo whined, grinding his nose into the crook of Eckles’ neck, making both males shudder with something only the eldritch could name. He wondered if the boy would attempt a claiming bite here and now, even though he wouldn’t know or understand such things. It would be entirely instinctual, and he wondered if it would be just as if not more appealing than if it was a conscious effort. Otherwise, he wouldn’t mind popping his stiffy from the boy’s experimental movements.
“...I don’t really have friends, but don’t tell Mummy and Daddy. I like to be by myself, like Tommy, but Robbie won’t leave Tommy alone.”
Eckles remembered the little dark-haired pup who didn’t smell like Hermione or his brother. He was quiet, always smelling of wet earth, parchment, and the warm, red, human blood that flowed through his veins. Still, Hugo’s answer made him happy.
“Your secret is safe with me, beautiful boy,” he rewarded Hugo with a kiss to the opposite temple, running his knuckle down the side of his upturned cheek, “I’ll take it to the grave if I must…”
Hugo chuckled quietly at that, slowly bringing his hands up to reciprocate some of Eckles’ massaging, and instead creating an awkward situation for Eckles. His small arms wrapped around the older male’s torso, hands repeatedly grasping at toned back muscles beneath his shirt and vest as he tried to reach them. It stirred something lewd in Eckles, prompting him to turn them around and attempt to lay Hugo back down on the bed so as to avoid exposing him to his ever-swelling hard-on.
Unfortunately, the boy’s legs stayed put, locked around Eckles’ waist. In fact, he could have sworn they’d tightened. So, they ended up with Hugo laying back against the pillows with Eckles looming over him, nearly pelvis to pelvis, face to face. Belatedly, Hugo gasped, a scarlet flush painting his features. The eldritch’s eyes twinkled, catching every molecule of giddy confusion and excitement rolling off him. He couldn’t help but lean down and press a chaste, yet lingering, kiss to Hugo’s perfect, pink lips.
It was a perfectly normal thing, wasn’t it? Eckles had seen other humans kiss their young and other family members on the lips. It was similar for eldritches, even if it occasionally went beyond that, like it would for them soon enough.
Something sparked between them, something dark and forbidden, at least for a human. For an eldritch like him, it was a sign of good compatibility. It made him smile through the rest of the kiss. Meanwhile, something swooped down into Hugo’s gut, exploding with butterflies and bees. His purr got so much louder, filling his eardrums from the inside. Nervous, unbidden tears fell from his eyes when Eckles’ pulled away, not understanding what was happening or why they were stopping.
Eckles’ own breath hitched when he looked back down at Hugo’s flushed, teary face. His mouth was open, an invitation, displaying perfectly straight and glinting white teeth, a perfect contrast to his own crooked ones. Charitably, he leaned back down to lick Hugo’s tears away, with a slow, lazy lapping of his tongue. The boy tried to catch his lips once more, but failed, looking put-out when Eckles leaned back up.
“Who’s your favorite person, Hugo?” The eldritch prompted again, allowing his groin to press the boy further into the bed.
Hugo whined, “...You are,” he rasped breathlessly.
“Good,” Eckles praised, reminding himself that he would have to alter the boy’s memories for the second time that day. Hugo was simply moving them along too fast for his parents not to notice. If Eckles did nothing, he’d have an eager little mate on his hands within weeks, definitely not enough time to guarantee a full mating before his parents found out.
As much as he hated to admit it, he would have to go away for a while, build a suitable home for Hugo and their young, follow the humans’ rules and find a large source of income, and lastly, find his own hunting grounds for all sorts of prey. It would also help keep enough distance between him and Hugo for the time being.
“I have to go soon…” he began, both delighting in and hating how Hugo’s eyes immediately watered again and his lip began to waver, “Please don’t cry, Darling.”
“Don’t go,” Hugo whined, trying to hug Eckles closer. He was so close to… something. Something good, great even...
“Oh, my dear… Don’t make this harder than it needs to be,” he tried, slowly bringing the child’s head away from the crook of his neck, baiting him, “I can’t stay, not now…”
“No!” Hugo barked, the watery cadence to his voice turning into a sob.
Eckles smiled, feeling the persistent press of angry lips against his mating gland, “Then what are you going to do about it?”
Eckles outright laughed when Hugo bit down, feeling the boy break the skin and the dark hot blood begin to seep from the wounds and into his mouth. He did it. Eckles was claimed, and by a six-year-old no less. Something snapped within Hugo, as he immediately began sucking on the bite until the blood clotted, which happened nearly twenty seconds later. The happy and giddy feeling welled up inside him, making him pulse, and twitch, and grind against his uncle. A dry orgasm ripped through him, arching his back enough that Eckles had to hold him through it.
The older eldritch watched, amazed at what he’d just witnessed and felt. His own erection was a painful reminder, but he wasn’t sure if it was worth the risk to teach the boy about his seed, to feed it to him, to paint his skin, to rub it into his tiny prick so his guilty hand would only smell of him whenever he touched himself. Instead, he did none of those things. He watched.
Hugo fell back against his pillows, feeling relaxed, blood coating his perfectly soft lips as his father’s genes finally showed themselves. Eckles was almost sad to see them, preferring the submissive human traits present in nearly every aspect of Hugo’s appearance and personality.
Still, he opened his mouth and shone his deadlights on the blissed face of his intended mate. This time, Hugo’s eyes took longer to cloud as they were becoming more immune to him. Nevertheless, he soon had a pliant little boy beneath him. He put his deadlights away, unhooking Hugo’s legs from his waist and setting them back underneath the covers.
“There is so much more I could do to you in this moment,” he told the glassy-eyed child, “Things you couldn’t help but love… But I won’t, no matter how much you beg, or plead. You will be a dam, so you make the first real moves, and you did… Oh, so beautifully… Not that you’ll remember, of course...” he ran a knuckle down one flushed cheek, “I am yours now, and I won’t forget that. I hope you won’t either, deep down. Otherwise I will maim, and kill, and eat anyone who tries to steal you from me… kay?” Eckles promised, pressing a final chaste kiss to Hugo’s lips to wake him from his memory-altering influence before standing up.
Hugo blinked rapidly up at him, feeling an ache in his chest grow as his uncle left the room. He didn’t understand why he felt so lost, so tired, so hungry. Something else ached, something he was too young to understand fully. Eckles turned around one last time.
“Feel better soon, Hugo. I’ll see you around...” he winked, leaving the room and shutting the door.
Hugo stewed in silence, wondering why he felt so happy, yet so empty.