Darjeeling | By : sylc Category: +G to L > Gakuen Heaven Views: 1258 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: Not affiliated with the real Gakuen Heaven. Not for profit. Written for fan enjoyment only. |
“Saionji-san.”
Second Year student and School Treasurer Saionji Kaoru blinked and looked up from the laptop on his lap to observe Third Year Student Council Vice President Nakajima Hideaki standing at the door of the treasury room, a thin folder in the older boy’s hand.
“Nakajima-san. I didn’t realise the door was open. Have you been standing there long?” he asked.
Nakajima smirked and, closing the door, entered the room to place the folder down on the coffee table in front of Kaoru, next to the half-empty Suzie Cooper teacup. “The last proposal for the school year, for your assessment,” he said quietly.
“Still all of your own work, I presume?” Saionji baited, and was rewarded with a wink from the Vice President of the Student Council. He couldn’t help the smile that entered his face.
“You’re welcome,” the senior said, and he turned away. Saionji watched him head towards the door. Thinking that the other boy would walk straight out, he allowed himself the luxury of admiring the taller boy’s broad back and powerful stride. Sadly, unless they ended up working for the same company in the future, there wouldn’t be many more opportunities for him to be so close to Bell Liberty Academy’s resident heart breaker. He was, therefore, a little embarrassed when Nakajima suddenly turned at the door and glanced back at him, and then upon noticing his gaze, met it with a slight frown, and then a smirk. “It wasn’t open,” Nakajima said.
“Uh... P-Pardon?” Kaoru swallowed. How embarrassing to have been seen staring. And now Nakajima was staring at him. He lowered his eyes. This is kind of awkward.
“The door wasn’t open,” the senior clarified.
Eh? Kaoru frowned, looking back at him. “So why didn’t you knock?”
Nakajima’s smirk widened. “I wanted to see what you would do.”
“I… don’t follow.”
A soft, low chuckle. “On all counts, yes,” the older boy agreed. He reached up and adjusted his spectacles, the glass glinting in the warm afternoon light. The building was very quiet. Most of the students were in-between exams. A few had already finished and gone home early for the summer. “Shichijo-san will be gone for a little while longer, correct?”
Kaoru’s frown deepened at the reference to his best friend, Shichijo Omi, and Nakajima’s worst enemy at the school. He leaned back in his armchair and folded his arms, eyeing the older boy suspiciously. “Yes. He has a computer exam until three. What’s going on?” He stiffened when Nakajima, instead of replying, just reached out and flicked the lock on the door. The click echoed in the quiet room.
“Your safe word is Darjeeling,” Nakajima said quietly, now walking towards him, still smirking. “Say it if I do anything undesired.”
Kaoru just stared confusedly at the approaching figure. Did he just say ‘safe word’? He couldn’t ponder the meaning of the phrase further, however, as Nakajima was already standing in front of him and gently closing the open laptop. The older boy eased it onto the coffee table next to the folder and tea tray, and then turned back to him, leaning down.
“Stay still,” he purred, just when Kaoru was thinking of turning his head, and then Nakajima’s fingers were holding his chin and soft warm lips were pressing against his. Lightly, initially, and tentative. His lips were soft and warm. His breath was hot and smoky, rebelliously scented of cigarettes. Lapsang souchong, Kaoru thought, not responding, but not pulling away either. He felt Nakajima’s right knee settle heavily into the cushion of the armchair beside his left thigh, pinning him in the chair and giving the older boy a better foundation from which to kiss him.
Kaoru finally turned his head away. “I’m not sure what you’re trying to do,” he said. His arms were still folded.
“That’s not a no,” Nakajima pointed out. He leaned back and shrugged off his blazer. Casting it aside across the folders strewn across Omi’s desk, he looked back down at Kaoru, one hand now working his tie loose around his neck. Then he took off his glasses and tossed them onto his blazer. He smirked slightly at Kaoru, who was watching him attentively, and then reached down and placed his broad hands on either of the younger boy’s thighs, just above the knees. Not taking his eyes off Kaoru’s face, he squeezed gently and then firmly, slowly, ran his hands up Kaoru’s thighs.
Despite himself and all his intention of remaining an objective observer to this unusual visitation, Kaoru shuddered, his mouth falling open with a soft gasp. A trembling heat pooled in his groin and he felt himself begin to harden with a suddenness that he had never experienced before.
Nakajima didn’t say anything, but the curl that appeared at the corner of the older boy’s smirking mouth said everything. Leaning in, Nakajima kissed him again. Kaoru didn’t respond this time either, but he wondered at the gentleness of the kiss. Is he trying to reassure me? he puzzled dazedly.
He shivered when Nakajima ran his hands back down his thighs, and then up again, travelling further this time to push up Kaoru's tunic and locate his belt. It clinked open, and with a firm tug, the leather slid free. Nakajima tossed the belt aside; it clattered to the floor.
“What tea are you drinking?”
“Genmai… cha.” Kaoru murmured, his voice tripping over the last syllable as his trouser button and zip was undone and he felt a warm callused hand reach into his trousers and briefs to encircle his erection. He gasped, reached out to grab Nakajima by his shirt. His hands fisted the smooth cotton. “Stop it!”
A low chuckle and then Nakajima suddenly slid down between his legs. Kaoru had a few hazy moments of incredulous anticipation as he took in the senior’s new position: that broad, powerful figure kneeling before him on the carpet, that smirking face above his dewing erection, and then Nakajima swallowed him and Kaoru’s world abruptly shrank. Suddenly, all he could focus on was the incredible sensation of warm, tight, wet heat contracting around his length. His eyes fluttered closed. Distantly, he heard himself mewling, could hear sucking wet noises, could feel himself shaking and squirming, could feel soft hair between his fingers, could feel warm breath against his pubic region. But all of that was nothing in comparison to the sheer feeling, that pulse of warm, electrical tension that was singing its way through his body, thrumming him beautifully. He thrust helplessly into that wet, obliging, glorious heat, barely aware of the hands holding his hips steady against the chair.
And then, suddenly, before he reached his peak, the heat was gone. Kaoru groaned in distress and discomfort. Opening his eyes, he stared hazily down at Nakajima’s smirking upturned face. The older boy’s lips were reddened, saliva smeared the corners and his chin. Without breaking eye contact, the other boy licked the slit of his penis and blew lightly on the head. Kaoru huffed helplessly. He felt hot, dirty, and God, why hadn't the other boy finished what he had started?
“I…” He couldn’t even formulate a sentence. And he didn’t even care. He licked his lips. His mouth felt so dry.
Nakajima raised himself over the chair again. “Let’s try that kiss again,” he said huskily. And this time, when their lips brushed together, Kaoru felt an explosion of sensation. He moaned, gasping into the older boy’s mouth.
Nakajima broke the kiss with a chuckle and then kissed him again, this time deepening it.
When he drew back, he slid back down and resumed the blow job. Shortly afterwards, Kaoru came, crying out softly. He shuddered, whimpering, as Nakajima milked the last drops from him. This time, when Nakajima raised himself to kiss him deeply again, he couldn’t muster the energy to respond. Not even when he tasted an unusual bitterness on the other boy’s saliva that he knew was from himself.
The other boy didn’t seem to mind. His eyes were unexpectedly soft as he drew back and turned his attention down to tucking Kaoru back into his trousers, even going so far as to pull up the zip. Then, with a smile and wink at Kaoru’s subdued and flushed expression, he rose and went over to Omi’s desk. There was a box of tissues on it. Nakajima took one and wiped his mouth and chin dry before putting on his spectacles and shrugging on his blazer. Then he went over to the mirror inset in the front of Kaoru’s tea cabinet to check his appearance and redo his tie.
Kaoru glanced at the clock. It was three o'clock. Omi would be back any moment now. He looked at his belt on the floor. He couldn’t be bothered getting up to retrieve it, much less to thread it through the eyelets of the waist of his pants. He looked back at the other boy.
“I suppose this was a one time thing?” he questioned the broad back.
Nakajima turned slightly and looked back at him. He looked surprised. “That’s up to you,” he replied. His voice was a little husky. Looking down, Kaoru saw that he wasn’t unaffected by their encounter. He had heard rumours that Nakajima was blessed in that department and it certainly looked like it. He flushed. His gaze slid away, across the room, to settle on the folder on the coffee table.
“Are you dating someone currently?” he asked.
He could feel Nakajima looking at him. When no response appeared to be forthcoming, he turned his head back to observe the other boy. “Nakajima-...senpai?”
“Hideaki.”
Hideaki. Somehow, that is so… Kaoru felt his flush darken. He raised a hand to push his hair out of his eyes, realised it was shaking, and then folded his arms and looked away again.
“So… are you seeing someone currently?” he persisted.
Nakajima chuckled. “A little illogical, wouldn’t you say, to pursue that line of thought?”
“I…” Kaoru swallowed. He wasn't used to being flustered. Or to being called illogical. "...Yes," he admitted finally, regretfully. A relationship between them wouldn’t work for many reasons: their interests were too different, their immediate futures located far apart, and their families both high profile... But when Nakajima turned away again, he felt something tighten in his chest and he hurriedly stood up. “Wait!” He grabbed his pants as they started to slip. "Don't go."
“Mm?” Nakajima turned back and stared at him for a moment. "What is it?"
Kaoru swallowed. What could he say that wouldn't be dismissed or worse, disdained? He looked down. "I need my belt,” he muttered finally, spying the leather piece lying curled on the carpet.
Nakajima glanced down, then back at him. Then he snorted, smiled, and approached him again. Ignoring the implied request, he stepped right over the discarded accessory on the floor as he drew close. He placed a warm hand on either of his arms. “You’re not so collected right now, ” the Vice President said quietly, “it’s cute.”
“I-I … I’m not cute,” Kaoru snarked weakly. That was almost as bad as Niwa implying that he was a girl. He shut his eyes and turned his head away slightly. His cheeks felt like they were burning.
The hands squeezed his arms slightly. A warm breath against his cheeks and then Nakajima was kissing him again. This time, Kaoru couldn’t help but respond, his whole body tingled with warmth and excitement. He heard himself moan and felt his hands, unable to keep away, reach for the other boy. His pants fell down and Nakajima’s hand was suddenly there again, on his erection, making his legs weak.
And that was exactly when he heard the door unlock with a familiar clicking noise and in the periphery of his vision, saw Omi enter. His friend stilled upon seeing them.
“Dar…” Kaoru jerked away, almost fell over but for Nakajima’s other arm, which was wrapped around his back and holding him steady. “Darjeeling,” he huffed, feeling saliva slipping from his lips. He couldn’t bear to look at Omi, who was staring at them both.
Nakajima chuckled lowly and shrugged off his blazer. He held it out to Kaoru, holding it to his groin. Kaoru gulped and grabbed it to hide his state and the shameful stain from their activity earlier. Straightening his glasses, the Vice President turned away and walked to the door.
“You're always welcome, Treasurer,” he said.
Ai! After saying that I could call him Hideaki... “I have a name,” Kaoru huffed.
Nakajima had reached Omi, who was glaring at him. With a smirk at Omi, Nakajima turned and glanced sidelong back at him. “So you do, Darjeeling,” he agreed. Winking at Kaoru’s furious blush, he turned away again and left the room.
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