neoyi | Fic Trade for Scribe

Fic Trade for Scribe. Also an excuse to write how CP Danny met CP GhostWriter. Might continue this and show how the two develop. Sorry it took forever to do this, Scribe.

“This is my brother from Brooklyn, he’s working for me.” Doug answered to the royal pair. Standing before King Vladimir and his son--recently turned fifteen year old Daniel P. Masters-- stood a tall, well-dressed, short haired, pale young man. Donning oval shaped glasses and a crooked nose; he had the looks of a fashionable librarian, emphasizing his true intention as a free spirited writer.

“He’s going to help with the architect of New Dalv City,” Doug, continued, “Father suggested it.”

“So you’re Doug’s older brother.” Vlad smiled, extending a hand to shake his, a gesture the pale figure didn’t return, “…Okay.”

“Sorry…sir, I don’t like people touching me.” He replied, slightly cringing.

“Oh, I see. Well, I’m sure you two brothers can put nice touches on our fair city.” Vlad extended his arms, “I await your results. Coming from the same family, I have no doubts your creativity will exceed or equal to that of your younger sibling.”

“Sure.” The man answered lamely. Immediately his young brother Doug, nearly ten years apart eagerly dragged him away, the taller figure gazing at the royal figures, namely the young white haired prince who hadn’t flinched the entire time during their meeting as if lobotomized.

He went by many names, enough to the point where his family had to refer to him by their own nicknames they’ve either given to him or vice versa. Typically, he was known as GhostWriter, his pale complexion and love of books to support such a unique nickname. He lived a life of freedom, spirit, and love, traveling around the world--mostly Europe--to inspire his true path as an independent writer. A visit to his family’s home caused his parents to worry on his less then traditional lifestyle and upon much forcing, gained him a job working alongside his younger brother’s team of architects to better New Dalv City’s appearance.

“I’m not much of an artist, that’s Doug’s department.” He would argue, but skilled enough with a pencil, they dressed him in his Sunday best and pushed him towards what they hoped to be a better future.

“Wallowing around, surrounding oneself with drunks and whores, drinking and smoking cigarettes while writing is not professional nor promising.” His parents told him, much to his resentment. The royal life was strict, dull, and to the point, how could he--someone who emphasized the gateways of freedom and non-traditional expect to survive this asinine experience?

_________________________

Lo and behold, only a week into his job designing buildings for his brother and his crew and already his mind drifted. He found himself writing about the dullness of his life in the royal palace on his primary sketches, quickly undressing his expensive suit for his own brand of unique clothing immediately after work, and vast amounts of smoking and drinking in secret. By the end of the week, he was nearly at his wit's end until he managed to encounter the young pale haired prince. Having taken a break from work, smoking a cigarette out of frustration did he spot the fifteen year old struggling with a small girl wrapped around his leg.

“Get off me, you little wench!” The prince Daniel cried.

“Not until you confess you love me!” cried the small girl.

“Danielle, if I confessed I loved you whether I meant it or not, I’m going to commit suicide for even being within three feet off you, let along three inches, now GET. OFF. ME!” With a huge fling, Danny sent the small girl flying over the palace wall. A large splash indicated she landed in the ocean surrounding the palace. Immediately GhostWriter’s eyes widen. A teenage boy kicking away a small child? Such behaviors wouldn’t be fit for one so high in status as Prince Daniel; such behaviors wouldn’t be fit for most people. Who throws a small child with such careless attitude?

GhostWriter ceased to stop his staring at the young prince whom made his way over to the long hallway where he stood. Shortly after he passed GhostWriter, the boy stopped and eyed him.

“…Yes?”

“Huh?”

“Is there a reason why you seem to enjoy eyeballing me?” Daniel asked, “Is my struggle with that little demon pleasing to you?”

“What, oh--No--I mean, well, yes, but--”

“But what? Is your current lifestyle too demanding on your eyes that you have to stare at me?”

“What, no--”

“Do I have some sort of attraction that fills your head with sexual fantasies?”

“WHAT? NO! Would you let me explain?!” GhostWriter snapped, “Good Lord, what the hell’s your problem? Just cuz’ you had a bad run-in with that girl doesn’t mean you should snap at me. I didn’t do anything!”

“Except stare at me.” Daniel crossed his arms.

“No offense, but not a lot of people chucks little girls over so…harshly like you do.”

“Well, she deserved it.”

“Really?”

“Yes, I have my ways of dealing with annoyances and issues, however unorthodox the method may be.” To Danny’s surprise (arms crossed, eyebrows raised), GhostWriter let off a hearty chuckle.

“And to think I’d never see anything that wasn’t dull in this black and white palace.”

“Excuse me? Black and White? Are you implying I’m shallow?”

“No, no, not at all. It’s just…the royal life, strict rules, pleasing people, paperwork, it’s a life style that shouldn’t be wasted on people.”

“Somebody must govern over others,” Danny stated, “Humans are too stupid to survive without boundaries, rules, and laws.”

“You’re a very blunt young man,” Ghost Writer said, “Not that there’s any problems. If people kept to themselves so much, there wouldn’t be a need for honesty. I don’t expect to become a well known writer without someone telling me whether my work is worth reading.”

“Uh-Huh. Alright, I’m heading back inside.”

“What? That’s it, no more listening to my tragic life story?” GhostWriter half joked.

“I don’t know you, thusly I don’t care.” And with it, Prince Daniel walked inside, leaving an intrigued GhostWriter. Finally, something interesting came up.

_____________________________

The next two weeks were better spent on his free time observing the young prince every chance he got; from his straight to the point personality and ability to never hold back on his opinions when needed to his rather stoic behavior to his seemingly lack of care he gives to anyone unless he felt the need to--sans his father, the King, the only man whom GhostWriter witnessed from afar worthy of the prince’s respect. Enough research showed Daniel was motherless and had a doting fiancée whom visited every so often, however their mutual affection seem to only come from her side while he merely took it patiently.

Whatever his complications were, it contained enough materials for him to write a small novel, if not an observational research on the young prince. Daniel’s reaction to this was small at first. He’d see GhostWriter everywhere he turned, scribbling on his notepad, cigarette in mouth, a bottle of bourbon in his coat jacket, tie undone and hair, while short was loose and shaggy--small strands covering his eyes partially. In the next two weeks, the added measure of his constant appearance halted when Daniel marched over to him.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Observing you.” Ghost Writer casually answered.

“Observing? So I’m a zoo animal to you?”

“Why would you care, young prince?”

“I only care if I have to care--most notably if it involves me in any sense of reasoning, and guess what, this involves me.”

“Temper, little Danny.”

“Oh, how adorable, using little nicknames to irritate me,” Danny sarcastically replied, “Do your worst, I’ve suffered through anything Paulina dished out.”

“Ooh, will do, my fair prince.” Ghost Writer giggled, quickly cupping his cheek before scribbling the latest behavior of Daniel down.

"I thought you don't like being touched."

"I don't like it when others touch me, not when I touch others," GhostWriter answered, "The only ones who may touch me are lovers."

“...Are you going to write everything I do?”

“Yes.”

Frustrated, Danny snatched the notebook from Ghost Writer and mulled through the hasty, messy writing. Ghost Writer merely sneered, did nothing, and let Daniel to observe his works.

“Pig-headed, intolerable, asinine--with all these descriptions, I don’t see why you feel the need to hang around with me, dear writer.” Danny calmly spoke in an eerie tone.

“You have a lot of depth and a flamboyant side that barely anyone in this boring place has,” Ghost Writer answered, snatching his notepad back, “You’re motherless, aren’t you? So as annoying as Paulina is, her treating you like a mommy…it’s insulting, yet pleasing, no?”

“So now you’re a psychologist?”

“You know what you need? Someone to love you and I don’t mean family or friend love, more like romance. I’m not going to tell you that you’re angry side isn’t amusing because it is, but imagine putting all that aggression in bed.”

Danny briefly raised his eyebrows, then furrowed them, “I’m marrying Paulina, what more do I need?”

“Have you even slept with her or done anything romantic?” Ghost Writer asked, “You’re only marrying her for Amity Empire, no? Covers up a lot of land in this planet, would do good for your world conquest, ey?”

“…Well, aren’t you Mr. Detective?” Danny slyly replied, arms crossed, his body leaning against a wall, giving way for Ghost Writer to lean closer. Grinning, he flipped his notepad around.

“Now what are you doing?”

“Observing you.”

“Yeah, I get that part, but why are you staring at me…again? It’s rude.”

“All part of the research.” He answered in a soft, purring voice. He wasn’t sure, but it seemed to Danny that Ghost Writer was leaning towards his face, seemingly inches near before quickly pulling it away upon a third voice ringing.

“Danny?” Skulker.

“What is it?” Danny asked, semi-relieved, semi-irritated.

“Err…your father wants to see you. Royal duties.” Skulker softly answered.

“Right.” Without as so much as a good-bye, Danny walked off.

___________________________

They didn’t speak for another week, during that time Danny rested outside the palace garden, situated under a patio, drinking tea off the patio table, engrossed in a book.

“May I join?”

Danny lowered his book to see Ghost Writer’s face right smack in front of him, his obvious grin becoming a familiarity to him.

“If you don’t bother me.” Danny answered. The writer’s only response was a small chuckle as he sat across from him, notepad in hand, again writing his theology on Danny.

“That includes writing about me.” Danny requested.

“Well then, I might not as well even be here, now would I?”

“Then leave.”

“You’re a bit socially inept, no?”

“So?”

“Hiding a lot of your emotions away from others--only expressing them to the very few people whom you’re close to,” GhostWriter sighed, “You don’t know me that well and yet I’ve already uncovered a healthy amount of information on you.”

“What the hell do you wish me to do? Observe YOU?” Danny slammed the book down, “Okay, how’s this? You’re rude, annoying, you invade any form of privacy I wish to have, you have no sense of respect, and--*sniffs*--you smell like you overdosed on cologne and gasoline.”

“Freshening up, is all.”

“…Are you flirting with me?”

“Is that a problem?”

“Listen, artist, I don’t know what your kind does over in France or any other European country where you waltz your Bohemian lifestyle in, but if you’re going to do it, then don’t do it to me or around me! It's annoying!”

“How hard is it to just let your guard down and let someone else in?” GhostWriter rubbed his temple, “Seems like the only one whom you truly express anything is to your father. You’re scared to let anyone know your true colors.”

“What do you want me to do? Express myself to you?” Danny cried out, “You already know everything about me. What more do you want?”

“This.” Without a though, GhostWriter leaned over, pulled Danny by his scarf and planted a soft, but firm kiss. Danny didn't react out of unexpected surprise--instead letting GhostWriter get a good taste of his lips. Upon release, a wider grin marked GhostWriter’s face, satisfied with Danny’s face of shock, cheeks blushing red.

“If I’m going to be stuck working in this dull background, I might as well take advantage of the one thing of interest.” GhostWriter added.

“Why?” Danny breathlessly asked.

“It’s attractive, that’s why.” Another kiss came after. This time, he felt Danny slowly giving it back.