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BLITHE YOUTH	By : SabreTooth Category: +. to F > Ai no Kusabi Views: 1911 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Ai No Kusabi, yaoi fandom; I do not own the characters and story-line of the canon. No money/profit is made from this.

Chapter List
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VOYEURISTIC PREDATOR

Iason brushed his long hair aside. He had prepared for bed; taken a shower, brushed his teeth, and plaited his hair in order to protect it during the night. He applied a lotion onto his marble skin and a whole body mirror caught his reflection as he was about to exit the bathroom. Iason stared at his own body; the lean muscles were developing into masculine shapes, bulging under the fair, silky skin. The broad shoulders and back were merging with the slim waist and narrow hips in complete harmony, and slightly widening again at the powerful thighs. Indeed, Iason was a team favorite when it came to short distance running. He was among the fastest and a joy to watch on the track. He simply floated above ground when he reached top speed.
His treacherous limpid sapphires scrutinized the lean statue and caught sight of the flaccid member between the creamy thighs; giving birth to fantasies to touch and tease, progressively awakening desire in the young body – a further step to adulthood.
“Fantasies,” Iason snorted. It was an annoyance in his life; forcing him to dream daring dreams during the night, only to awaken with frustration. He mostly took out his frustration on the track, or during his studies, but it wasn’t always enough. The body recovered from the exhaustive physical training, and the mind sharpened quickly after a completely emptying study period. Both body and mind possessed too much potential and regained agility anew, spurring suppressed, forbidden thoughts to emerge when he least wanted it. Like now, for instance. The longer he watched the body trapped behind the mirror, the more obnoxious the erection between his legs.
“No way,” he sighed. “Test tomorrow.”
Apart from the test, that unamiable brat was soon coming back to the dorm. Luckily, the impudent lowlife had kept himself away for the entire day and most of the evening. Indeed, the time was almost midnight and there was no trace of Raoul as yet. Iason found himself getting unnerved at the mere thought of the other one, but forced himself to abolish those thoughts. This 'Deviant' was not worth his time, or to be wasting emotions on.
Iason slid under the cover, switched off the lights and took a deep breath going over the plausible questions and answers to the upcoming test. He hadn’t been able to fall into deep sleep, when the tiny click form the door allowed the unwanted roommate access to the room.
“Curse that imbecile,” Iason muttered internally and slightly opened his eyes to see what Raoul was up to. The youngling carefully walked up to his own bed across from Iason’s, but kept the room dark not to awaken the sleeping flaxen. Motions were subtle and soft – soundless like that of a cat.
“At least he is considerate,” Iason continued as he watched the impudent renegade from the dark.
Only the faint light from the twin moons was piercing through the room. Raoul walked into the bathroom and Iason could hear the water running, the brushing of teeth and the rattling of the buckle from the belt as it landed on the tiled floor. Raoul was getting undressed and Iason was once again getting rather hot under the collar; this time, by the notion of a presence and the sounds of someone moving about in the room.
“Can’t he hurry up? I am trying to get some sleep here.”
Within a short while, Iason found himself making up plans for getting the disrespectful flaxen out of his way by tomorrow afternoon. He knew exactly what he would tell the headmaster. He would march in there and tell him that he, as a respected student, was in need of someone who could talk like a normal person, act respectfully, be on time and…
Raoul stepped out of the bathroom and walked slowly towards his bed, still fiddling with his hair and tying it into a ponytail. He exposed his body to the slight caress of the moonlight and stood in the shower of sliver rays almost as if he could sense that delicate touch of light. He began humming softly, rocking his body to a rhythm unknown to anyone other then his soul. His juvenile statue swayed like grass in the wind as the marble skin moved like silk canvas over the lean muscles.
Suddenly, Iason's malicious thoughts gave chase to the serenity that filled his body watching the Deviant bathe in the moonlight – so much alike a young god who had just come to the notion of his existence in a mortal world. Iason remained frozen and complete stillness took him over – his mind silenced.
The disciplined flaxen felt his heart racing - betraying his fortress of solid granite around his spirit. No, it couldn't be - his fortress was impossible to breach. But the foolish heart was pounding like the hooves of a thousand horses, making it difficult to breathe or to think even. He clenched his teeth, and fisted the blanket as if he was ready to tare it apart. His body and mind reacted beyond his control – and for the first time, Iason Mink understood that he was about to get a taste of, or suffer through, that tormenting desire he had only read about in silly romantic novels. The engine of his lust fed on the ethereal impression displayed in a sensual dance before him, and awakened a powerful desire that left Iason gasping for air. He tried to suppress his galloping emotions as well as he could, whilst his betraying eyes licked the unaware flaxen from top to bottom. It made Iason feel almost dirty – watching someone with such emotional turmoil and not revealing it – he was but a voyeuristic predator.
Raoul was so different from those others. He was so mature for his age. His muscles were more defined, with less body fat and finely developed although it still bore traces of youthfulness.
In the obscurity of the moonlight, Iason caught attention of such tentative details as those tiny nipples on the curve of the chest and the silky string of hair under the navel. The disciplined flaxen was surprised to see that Raoul had kept that smooth, almost white, pubic hair, which most others had permanently removed as soon as the teenage years set in. It was thoroughly groomed and looked very soft; crowning that appealing member, which was so beautiful in its relaxed state as it hung retracted into its shelter of skin. It trembled a little as Raoul moved about and quite soon, the hypnotic dance forced all Iason’s antagonistic thoughts to take chase. What was happening to him?
The young man across the room was a piece of art by Jupiter’s hands, and though he was just another flaxen among many, it was difficult to reduce him to an object in the way Iason did with attractive others. Iason turned away, sighing deeply. What an utter surprise and agonizing frustration, to realize that the Deviant flaxen was an appealing thing of beauty. Who knew that under that disarranged clothing, those hideous leather accessories, that impertinent growling, and that crude surface, there was an uncut diamond that spoke so vividly to Iason’s instincts?
Raoul had a face, he had a voice – he was slowly taking the form of a person. He was wild and crude in every aspect. The bushy mane, the body hair and the skinny statue – it all spoke of an uncivilized mongrel, yet this was a Blondie. His somewhat thin body, enveloped in that yellowish skin, told the tale of someone repeatedly sacrificing a good night sleep to late night activities of some sort, and perhaps drinking. No matter the reason to those negligible flaws, Raoul was ever so attractive.
Suppressing the images of the silvery statue of a semi-god perfection, Iason stared towards the wall and tried to fall asleep – wasted efforts. Suddenly, he felt a presence near his back and a gentle whisper followed the intruding aura.
“Good night…and thanks for having me.”
Words of pride and tenacity crowded up in Iason’s throat, but not even a mere whimper managed to escape him when a soft touch traveled across his temple. It was tingling and a completely new, intoxicating sensation that shot through him. Iason hardly dared to breathe not to scare off the curious fingers attending his sideburn. “Please, don’t stop,” echoed inside his head. “Please…don’t stop…don’t…stop.”
Raoul had though Iason to be asleep and made very little noise not to awaken the cocky flaxen. He knew the senior Blondie was ahead of a gruesome test, and needed to catch a good night sleep. Raoul had spent the entire night at the library; abandoning his original plan to study, he kept listening to music and surfing on the Academy intranet to chat to people. He was hoping that Iason would have had enough time to finish his studies by midnight – and right he was.
Although he never revealed it officially, Raoul felt deep respect for those who fought for something, which was difficult to reach. This was the case with the Mink-boy. He knew who Iason was; in fact, he had noticed the flaxen a while back on the running track. He had been quite impressed seeing the Blondie compete. He was fast and determined to reach the finishing line before anyone else. Sometimes he managed and sometimes he didn’t, but that determination was complete and present at all time.
Of course, all that admiration came to a sudden end when the Mink-boy pushed himself past the newcomer in the most brutal way, shoving Raoul against he wall and not even turning his head to apologize as he went about his own business. From that moment on, no matter how good the reputation circling Iason Mink, he remained a disrespectful, egotistical bastard in Raoul’s opinion.
But as always, Raoul’s ocean-deep heart was moved by currents that brought about sensations from a dark abyss, which blessed him with a tender touch completely devoid of resentment. An indirect way for the body to desperately announce the wonderful soul trapped inside; a soul lacking a voice, but visible through warm contact.
Raoul removed a stubborn string of hair from Iason’s face. The senior Blondie smelled good; he must have showered just recently. His skin was fresh and his hair carried a delicate fragrance. Well, if Raoul was allowed to stay, perhaps they would get to know each other. Raoul allowed himself to communicate sensibly for the first time in months and whispered gingerly form the darkness.
“I…I hope you had time to finish your studies.”
Iason felt delightful warmth spread through his body as he listened to the soft whisper. He fought himself with all his might not to turn around – it was better to pretend sleeping.
“In any case,” Raoul continued. “I know you’ll do fine. You’re not like me.”
Something inside Iason broke in two. It was painful and made him choke on his own heartbeat that pounded in the throat, but pride fettered him and thus, he remained motionless.
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BLITHE YOUTH