WARNINGS: not quite ripe lemon, sexiness, half-formed character interpretation

DISCLAIMER: standard disclaimers apply, I own no one recognizable...

Niceties

The elevator doors closed with their usual mechanical whisper leaving a stunned Shuichi to glide back down to the main floor. Eiri held the image of Shuichi's face as the door to his apartment drew near. It was amazing really. Shuichi wasn't a large or imposing person yet he seemed to fill whatever space he happened to be in. Eiri opened the door and headed directly for the bathroom, leaning over the sink to wash his face and contemplate his own reflection.

He compared the narrow planes of his face, its angular lines and dour expression to the brightness of the young man he'd just left. Had he ever been that young? That youthful, that exuberant? If he had he couldn't recall it. They were lifetimes of experience apart and somehow he didn't think there was much that could permanently dull Shuichi's shining enthusiasm. He was certain that Shuichi wanted him and he was equally certain that Shuichi didn't have a clue as to what that meant. An innocent. Eiri snorted in derision at his image before reaching for his toothbrush. The taste of mint exploded in his mouth yet did not quite erase the flavour of innocence that he'd sipped from Shuichi's startled lips.

It had been an intoxicating moment but one he wasn't sure he knew how to deal with. This young man reeked of complications and commitments, none of which he was prepared for or willing to contemplate. And yet. And yet. It had been so fresh, so alive and rife with promise. He set his internal view to recall Shuichi's face. That face. Those huge eyes, soft trembling lips and determined chin. There was a strength about him, a drive that was little hindered by his lack of experience. Yes he was a bit flighty, a bit emotional but that was part of his appeal. He knew what he wanted and went all out to get it but there seemed to be nothing mercenary or grasping about him. Was it possible that Shuichi was genuine?

Eiri moved from the bathroom to his bedroom, flopping back on the bed and staring at the ceiling. His hands strayed to release the buttons of his shirt as he continued to muse upon the intriguing enigma that was Shindou Shuichi. He could still hear the timbre of Shuichi's voice as he was berated and challenged with little regard to repercussion. The corners of his mouth turned up slightly as he realized how much fun he was having teasing the poor boy. Just a few well-chosen gruff words and he was practically bouncing. Yes it was a bit mean but then he didn't particularly care. It was fun and different, Shuichi may appear delicate but he wasn't. Perhaps he was up to the challenge, perhaps.

His fingers brushed absently across his chest and he hissed as one finely manicured nail scraped across a sensitive nipple. The sensation shot directly through him as his blood began to rush and pool in the centre of his body. Ah now this was interesting. He could feel the beginings of arousal, that soft prickling heat that shivers along nerves to tease at locus points of erectile tissue. Could it be that thoughts of this innocent, callow boy were arousing him? He decided to test himself by recalling that simple kiss in exquisite detail. He remembered and catalogued the taste, texture and pliancy of Shuichi's lips. Remembered the moisture that gathered between them, the catch of breath, the pressure, the warmth. Arousal drew him forward into imaginings and suppositions, the fever building and proposing theorems of possibility.

What would it be like? To taste that innocence, to be the first. To take inexperience and mold it, shape it, design and sculpt it into something created for him alone. What would he be like, this sweetly innocent boy, would he throw himself into sex the same way he appeared to throw himself into life? Would he be shy, would he reach out to touch? What would he sound like? What breathless words would spill from his mouth as his passion was tested?

His hand slid down of its own accord, swiftly dealing with button and zipper to delve beneath flesh-warmed cloth. His breath stopped as he caught himself in a grasping fist. His imagination continued to supply him with images designed to inflame, heightening his senses and urging his hand to slide in an ever-increasing blur. He imagined fine grained skin in soft light, slender limbs sprawled in abandon, the texture of tousled hair, the scent and heat of desire drawn out in never-ending temptation. He pushed himself further, squeezing and sliding his clutching fist, pulling himself along by erotic imaginings.

The final image was the impetus to completion. An image of fantasy illusion. That face twisted in orgasmic bliss, that voice lifted in shuddering cries of need and that body stretched in taut-muscled trembling. He shouted out his pleasure to echo off empty walls, his body tensing and releasing over and over in stream after stream of blinding satisfaction. Finally, he collapsed back to his bed, idly running a finger through wet sticky pools on stomach and chest. He could feel the tense lines of his face shift into rare relaxation and his lips quirked once again self-mockery as his mind envisioned Shuichi's expression if he actually did make a move. He could picture the blush and the speechlessness yet that didn't seem to deter him at all. Would he take that step? Who knows? The fact that he was even contemplating the idea spoke volumes for the boy's impact on him. His expression turned even more contemplative as he stared blankly up at the ceiling.

"A very interesting person indeed."

_owari_

SteelSong
07/2001