D looked around, fascinated. The doors of the shop went to many strange places, but they rarely took him into dream realms. The strange proportions of the granite walls, in this place, the odd plants and creatures, all spoke to him of dreams, though, and he wondered why he was here.
The shop doors never opened at random.
"Who are you?"
The man who stepped out of the air was… not exactly a man. D tilted his head. "I am called Count D. And you?"
After a moment’s hesitation the man said, slowly, "I am Jareth, the Goblin King." His thin lips twisted. "Without much of a kingdom anymore, I admit."
So. D looked around, curiously. "This world seems robust," he murmured, asking without asking as was only polite.
The goblin waved a dismissive hand. "The world, yes. Creatures live here. But my magic was broken." His eyes were distant and dispassionate as he added, "I suspect I will fade soon."
"Much that is magic can be mended," D suggested delicately.
Jareth laughed, bleak and sharp and wild. "I haven’t the strength any longer to find anyone who can sustain me."
"What is required?" D asked, quiet and even.
Pale, feral eyes focused on him. There was long hunger in them and D spread his hands, serenely, offering.
Given the setting, he was not entirely surprised when Jareth stepped closer, sliding one hand into his hair, tipped his head back and kissed him. He spread his hands against Jareth’s chest, acquiescent. The shop would not have shown him this place if he were not needed.
"Normally," Jareth murmured in his ear, tone ironic, "I would sweep you off to my castle at this point. I’m afraid that’s not possible, right now."
"Quite all right," D murmured, suppressing a smile. "I’m sure we can find something suitable." He took a small step back, hands stroking over Jareth’s shoulders, down his arms.
Jareth looked at him for a long moment, unreadable, before he snorted softly. This time the twist to his mouth was wry as he followed D, step by step back through the door. Across the hall another door fell open and D backed toward it, short, quick steps that turned Jareth’s gaze predatory.
When Jareth swept him up and laid him down on the huge, low bed, D had to stifle an outright chuckle. He didn’t know whether his newest acquisition understood what was really happening, yet, but he was starting to think that the Goblin King might not care. "You’ve caught me," he said, softly, fishing for what it was, exactly, that Jareth needed.
"Yes," Jareth kissed down the line of D’s throat. His hands stroked over D’s body, tracing the lines of him faultlessly through the fabric of his robes. "Give yourself to me," he whispered.
"Yes," D answered, opening his mouth under Jareth’s kisses, pressing against him, answering his hands. It was no more than he did for any animal in the shop, in the end.
Jareth kissed him fiercely, caught him close, lay over him as if to shelter, or perhaps separate, him from the rest of the world, and D was pliant and willing in his arms. And finally, Jareth unwound, over him, breathing out, and slumped against D’s shoulder.
D smiled, soft and sad, and stroked his wild hair back, kissing his brow gently. "We’ll find you proper sustenance, here," he murmured.
"You are of my kind." Jareth didn’t lift his head, voice low and undone.
It was D’s turn to smile a bit wryly. "Somewhat. My line is made of darker stuff than dreams, even yours."
Now Jareth lifted himself and looked down at D, eyes gleaming. "I am servant to your dreams, for now."
"My dream is your life." D met those sharp eyes steadily and they gentled. Jareth lay down again, beside him, acquiescent in his turn, slowly relaxing into sleep.
D lay awake and turned over in his mind plans for finding his newest guest a suitable human.
End