Adult-FanFiction.org : Naruto

My Dead Heart Beats For You	By : KenthosTheKitsune Category: Naruto AU/AR > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 3168 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 3
Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto or it's characters. I do not make any money writing this story.

Chapter List
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Disclaimer:
I do not own Naruto, or any of it’s respective characters. I do however, own the plot.

Warnings:
Yaoi. Shonen Ai. Suggestive/ Mature Language. Violence. Lemons in Later chapters. What would be considered incest, but for the sake of plot, they will not be related in this fic. You have been warned.

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Leather boots scuffed the crumbled cobblestone streets of a younger London, splashing a puddle that in hindsight was not more than a burst pimple on the face of the black sky city plagued with naught more than a bout of industrial evolution. Revolution they called it, although it did bring about improvement in technology the same couldn’t be said for the lives of the people. Melted stars fell from the heavens, lunar tears, which swept through the air with a stormy cough that gusted them, soaking clothes and bones. The weather sent most scurrying inside for the night like sugared mice, even though there was hardly anything remotely sweet about a good portion of the population. In fact the lot of the population held a nauseating odor that could bring you to your ever loving knees. It wasn’t just the people, but the town itself seemed so sick and unkempt, the smog it’s hacking coughs and the burning ore it’s fever. The sludge like water the vomit. And there was no cure in sight, not that anyone within power was looking that hard.

            The owner of the leather boots was wrapped in melted shadow, like liquid he flowed fluidly, almost floating, masquerading as Death. Unbound by human limitations he wove through the sputtering masses with the practiced grace of a royal predator, power thrumming through each limb which rubbed like stressed rubber bands. Strength stretching to be fully felt, desperate before it was snapped back in a manageable tone, a barrier, a limitation chaining it. It’s struggle reverberating with each movement. Features concealed with a large top hat, the man stood at five foot ten inches, the only identifying mark that could be found, were the blonde bangs that the rain plastered to his shadowed face. They were jagged and sharp spikes, like golden stalactites but despite all hard appearances they weaved willingly with the whipping wind. Eyes the color of sapphire on ice pierced through the dark skies, ripping into the night as they roved over his surroundings. His name is Namikaze Minato, a half Japanese immigrant, a man of high society, a prominent lawyer, a well respected man within his social circles and community…and a vampire.

            Now you may laugh, a vampire, really? It’s understandable really, the vampire race has taken quite the beating in the form of Stephanie Meyer and her…sparkly creations but thankfully we stand in a time before that. Before such creatures were reduced to the laughing stock of the monster realm. When Dracula was a feared name uttered with the reluctance of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. When they burst into fucking flames, not bust out into a human sized diamond that made most women green with envy and want to wear them on their finger.

Existence, for he was far too jaded to the point of looking permanently green to call it life, was very dull for Minato despite what you may think. Dull. Dull. Dull. Dull. Yes initially immortality was fun, traveling the world, creating new identities, seeing the sights and meeting new people and making connections. But then…they started to fade away with age, times changed yet still remained the same to the point that once you went around the block there wasn’t much else to see. It had been like a game at first, pretending to be someone else, see how well he could act, but over time, that too, had lost it’s luster. Now he just floated through life like a leaf would a river, letting it take him wherever it wished. His current career, too, was starting to get yawningly boring. Humans did not deviate when it came to crimes or their motives, no matter how noble or how selfish. It was like listening to a repeating record player and Minato’s skin was far too thick for any story to pierce through to his long dead heart.

Sun could hurt him yes, but unless he was completely and utterly exposed for long periods of time it wouldn’t kill him. It was often cloudy and rainy this part of the continent, and even if it wasn’t, the smoke from the countless sweat shops gave more than enough coverage needed. Minato wore enough clothing to cover himself almost fully, and if it ever got too sunny he’d just shut the curtains. His footsteps halted and he tilted his head up, eyes closed as he relished the feel of rain dancing on his flawless, corpse colored skin. Ever since he was a child, he loved the rain, it had always been a soothing substitute for a mother’s lullaby and even now, it quailed the cries of the bloody beast that lay nestled in his left breast. Right next to his silent heart. The sweet scent of evergreen mixed with the horrid scents of the city as he sniffed the air. Urine, sex, sewage, sickness, and pound metal permeated his nose, before one snuck into his peripheral senses. Almost coy, seductive, begging for attention with the experience of a ten pound bar wench. It was a visitor he both welcomed…and wished to ignore.

He could already taste the sweet syrupy goodness which would warm him, spoil his taste buds and slide sickeningly yet addicting through his fingers, painting his claws the brightest of crimsons. Unconsciously Minato licked his lips.

Blood. Fresh blood.

            Senses going haywire, Minato bit his lip and forced his eyes shut, brushing aside the whimpering beast which begged fulfillment for it’s cravings like an annoying dog. It wafted from a nearby alley were beggars were a plenty and without a glance to his pocket watch or a second thought he yanked his hat further down and sprinted into the bricked hallway. He had no clue as to why he was running towards the source instead of away from it, as it had been awhile since he last had a drink. The worst thing that could happen was that he made things worse for the victim the best case scenario…well who knows. It serenaded him, that sweet stench, pleading and pawing at him for assistance, reaching into the very pit of his nearly flat-lining soul and caressing it with the familiarity of a lover. It was hot and electric, wild and almost untamed. And it was the most delicious and precious thing Minato had ever encountered. No other’s blood could compare. He had lost sight of whether or not he was going to help the poor person…or help himself. Both sides tugged at him insistently to their cause, devil then angel and right back to the beginning again. Reaching the end of the alleyway, he came upon a sight that had his blood spasming. Not sure whether it should freeze or pound. For various reasons, this would be a night, and a sight, Namikaze Minato would never forget.

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This pairing is MinaNaru, don’t like it, get the fuck off my slice of site then. For the sake of plot they will not be related in this story.

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Kenthos
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My Dead Heart Beats For You