From the Memoirs of a Moth

From the Memoirs of a Moth
Majustsushi Orphen fic
Orphen (Kiriranshelo) x Hartia
by shiretoko

Warnings: yaoi, slight angst, excessively flowery language (blame Hartia); slight ooc, too
-vaguely spoiler-ish, best to watch the show first-



He was always beautiful.

Dark, wild locks, brilliant golden eyes, fiery and passionate temperament . . . he was all temptation in the most fascinatingly pretty package. Kiriranshelo was the bright flame among our midst, while the rest endured the fate of the moths that we were. Every inch of him was perfect. Most his age succumbed to the ungraceful, clumsy touch of adolescence. Not him. Never an ungainly step, even when he failed to stay on his feet. He didn�t know it; he may have left a cloud of sensuality in his wake, but no self-awareness was involved. Somehow that only made him more desirable.

We all wanted him.

Childman wanted him, students wanted him, I wanted him . . . .

Azarie wanted him.

No one was immune to his feel, his touch. I was completely helpless to every casual brush and friendly pat. It was deliciously painful to be his closest friend; the boy tortured us all unawares. We coveted his smiles. We died for his embrace. Countless victims would sell their very souls to run fingers down his lithe frame, drink from defiant pouty lips, slide over his warm flesh.

I certainly would.

That was the Tower�s dirty little secret of sorts; a hidden indulgence that rose and fell like the tides as he traveled in and out of your presence. Or course, like I have said, no one ever had a chance to resist. How was he to know that we were enthralled by him? How was he to know what his glances did to us? How was he to discover that a hundred sheets would be dirtied at night with the guiltiest pleasure on his behalf? Even the extra saunter in his stride spoke of animal magnetism. How could he have changed, even if we wished it of him?

None of us did, of course.

Among our own sorry lot, Azarie was admittedly the luckiest, blessed with his unbridled youthful affection and admiration. I was constantly furious with her easy manipulation; it was a simple thing for her to coax a smile or hoard his attentions like a jealous dragon guarded its gold. The range of blushes she could bring to his cheeks was remarkable. And her beautiful trinket never failed to please her. I daresay she was wise to keep him at her side until the day of her demise. Wolves and sheep alike were after Kiriranshelo, the tower�s golden boy, making Azarie�s monopoly a veritable necessity. But he was untamable; she never had quite the hold over him that she believed.

At least once, I was truly beloved to him.

I remember everything about that day. The emotions, the feel, the time, the season: every second irreversibly burned onto my memory. The air was pressing on our spines then, the humidity of summer wreaking bloody-minded vengeance upon the land. Gatherings of students within the confines of stone-walled classrooms suffered through the compounded heat. Being a northerner by birth, the weather was exceptionally cruel to me, and the urge to collapse was gradually overcoming my will to remain upright. Even Kiriranshelo was showing evidence of wilting, though with far more suggestive grace than the rest of his peers could muster. I labored to breathe, pen running rampant across my parchment as I struggled to write. It would be wiser to just pass out; at least the instructor would finally understand how inhumane it was to keep students slaving away in this dratted temperature.

Perhaps it was a minor miracle; perhaps our instructor was anticipating my dramatic production. Regardless, we were duly dismissed from classes and warned to keep as cool as possible. A mass exodus was prompted, the class desperate to leave the confines of a stifling room. In the ecstatic rush to the exit, I was snatched from the outgoing crowd, detained by a firm, persistent . . . and familiar grip.

The sparkle in his eyes was irresistible, his bronzed hands encasing mine. Suddenly my typical problems with the summer climate meant nothing to me. What did the heat matter when one was already burning up from the inside out? I imagine I looked more inept than usual, unsure whether to faint as I had originally planned or simply forget to breathe. To my credit, I managed to breathily pronounce his name. Desperately I hoped he could not read the amorous thoughts backing its tone. An amused grin slowly grew across his face.

�You look like you swallowed a squid,\" he snickered.

�And if I did?�\"

He burst out in laughter. �Then it can�t hurt . . . s\'good for you, innit?�\"

To my dismay (and reluctant pleasure), Kiriranshelo gave me a sudden sharp yank, pulling me towards him until my shoulder was pressed upon his. I was frightened to move; if I so much as flinched he might read my action incorrectly and pull away. And there was no way that I would begrudge him willing contact. There was no way I�d deny myself that touch. His soft, measured breath was already on my ear by the time I shook myself from my train of thought Idly, I wondered if he could feel me trembling. Hopefully he would only assume it was the summer heat.

�Come with me Hartia?�\" he whispered confidentially.

Certainly I was not to blame for the dirty images that raced through my brain after hearing that request.

�Y-yes.�\" I managed to squeak.

�Ask me where.�\"

Ah, so this was a different game today. I never quite acclimated to them, but it was to be expected that he made the most trivial of chores a game. It was much a part of his nature as his innate sensuality. Azarie once told me that was one of his survival tactics from their days as abandoned orphans. Even without knowing this, I could not refuse. If he wanted to create an adventure, I would gladly join.

�Ask you where?�\" His breath was pure temptation, sliding down my neck like thick, warm honey.

He lightly hummed an affirmation.

�Okay . . . where to?�\"

His chuckling reverberated between us as he drew breath. The warmth of contact still lingered as he pulled away, our hands still firmly locked. Giving a jaunty nod, he pointed straight towards the ceiling over our heads.

�Closer to heaven.�\"

Promptly after that cryptic introduction he took off, myself in tow. We raced past students, instructors, and had our haste been lesser, I would have been sure that we almost toppled Childman over. Few things in my life matched the exhilaration I felt at that moment . . . it was almost as if we were flying. My heart beat furiously trying to keep up with Kiriranshelo�s pace; he was notorious for his speed, while I was constantly teased about my horrid reflexes. But there was no stopping him and no letting go for him. Deep within me, I could not betray him and back down. He wanted to show me something, and I�d die be I�d I�d ruin my chance to see.

I tightened my grip on his hand.

It seemed like a brief eternity before our stair climbing came to an abrupt halt. Blinking a few times to assuage my dizziness, I hesitantly surveyed my current whereabouts. Surprise sank its teeth into me where I stood.

�The old East Tower,�\" I murmured. �You found how to get to the old East Tower . . . .�\" Needless to say, I was in abject awe. The most famous class ambition was to find the hidden passageway leading to the abandoned tower and successfully make it to the highest floor; no one thus far had done so. But he had. Not only had he kept silent about it, but the ease with which we traveled suggested that this was far from his first visit. If he hadn�t discovered this secret simply to show off, one had to wonder why someone with his bravado would bother at all. It wasn�t even very spectacular, musty rafters high above us and the stark stone walls devoid of any decoration. Save for the elaborate woven rug underneath our feet, there were no signs that it had been in any use; layers of dust would probably remain here had Kiriranshelo not cleaned up a bit. Still . . . what had driven him to doing so was a mystery to me.

�I needed a hiding spot.�\"

I broke from internal reverie as Kiriranshelo gracefully slid his hand from mine. Slowly spinning as he moved away, he raised his face to the bright sunlight pouring from windows above us. �You wanted to know why, right? Why I found it?�\"

�Well . . . yes . . . how . . . I didn�t even ask.�\"

He stretched languorously, like a cat; my pulse quickened in response. A playful grin lit up his features. �Your thoughts are always as plain as those damn freckles on your face.\"

I mock pouted. �You said you liked them, jackass.�\"

�Of course I like them. I like them so much that I gotta make fun of them.�\" As he turned his back towards me, Kiriranshelo heaved a sigh that sorely betrayed his flippant demeanor. �They�re not the reason we�re up here, though.�\" He ran a careless hand through unruly chocolate brown locks; was it just the heat, or could I really feel crackling tension in the heavy air around him?

�Kiri?�\" I called, hoping to assuage him.

�I told you I needed a hiding spot, Hartia,�\" he quietly continued. �I need somewhere to get away from the noise, from the work, from myself . . . from Azarie.�\" The air seemed hesitant to fill the pause. �I like her a lot, yeah, but sometimes she smothers me, you know? I can�t stand feeling like I�m being monitored. Any more of it and I would snap. So I studied my ass off. Finally found the way up here, spent some time up here thinking to myself. It wasn�t helping enough to make a difference.�\"

I would have given the world to run and wrap my thin arms around him for all they were worth at this moment. We dared to pine for him, yet how often did those who desired him realize his depths? I settled for whispering a muted expression of sympathy and continued to gaze upon his slender form.

�I�m not . . . what�s the damn word . . . introspective. Thinking to myself drags me down and I hate my own company. I guess I decided I should bring someone to keep me company this time.�\" Abruptly he turned around, and our eyes met.

I was transfixed, frozen in time and space by the raw emotion roiling within their golden hold. Never was there a gaze such as this, bittersweet and so compelling. Nothing existed outside its embrace�the heat, the hazy atmosphere, the pounding of blood in my veins. His emotions dictated mine. His latent, smoldering magnetism demanded nothing less than my whole self. Unconsciously, I began to move closer, each step proving me his willing prey. So absolutely did I belong to him, even should he realize my yearning and reject me, I would remain unwavering in my devotion. The flame had begun to draw the moth once again.

I felt the weight of lean arms draping over my shoulders.

�I brought you. I could only bring you.�\" The soft touch of his forehead on mine sent delicious shivers down my spine as I feigned ignorance of my furious blushing.

�What about Azarie? She�s your favorite.�\"

Momentary silence.

�I really like her. But . . . .�\"

But? Was I only here as a temporary release from his mental discord? I felt a twinge of despair.

�\". . . it�s different with you. I�m myself around you. I don�t pretend for you, and you don�t pretend for me. You ask me things . . . about what I have to say, right down to what I dream about. Do you think I don�t appreciate that, Hartia?�\"

I held a tenuous breath. �Well, not as such��

His arms were around me. Somehow I had become secure within the tight net of his arms. Somehow he had burrowed his face in the crook of my neck, somehow I could feel the steady thump-thump of an enduring heart against my chest and the press of his thighs against mine, somehow his lips were brushing against my ear. It was all I could do not to die of bliss.

�Maybe it�s just me,�\" came his soft voice, breath warm and enticing, �but you�re the only one who bothers to do that for me.�EA hand slid down and came to rest in the small of my back. �And now . . . .�\"

�N-now?�\" Oh God, his mouth was moving lower.

�Now I know where I have to hide.�\" Oh yes, his hands were moving lower, too. �I need to hide with you.�\"

Just a little closer, please . . . please . . . please . . . .

One firm pull at the waist and I melted against Kiriranshelo. All my dreaming of him could not match the reality of his lips against mine; the touch of him, the gentle sigh of contentment murmured into the kiss, the very taste of him. No fantasy prepared me for the rush of pleasure when he ground his hips determinedly against mine. Back muscles writhed under my tightening grasp, and I couldn�t hold in the moans and cries he wrought from me. All but overwhelmed, I gasped into his open mouth.

Was it amazing that I was torn between the necessity for air and the necessity of his tongue�s caress?

I managed to part from his momentarily even as the feverish movement of our waist continued. �Kiri . . . ah . . . where did you learn . . . mmm . . . ?�\"

His hot kisses traveled down to my neck. �This?�\" The kisses trailed down to butterfly over my collarbone. �Azarie.�\" My nerves screamed their ecstasy as his slender hand slid between us. �This?�\" I cried out and pressed into his palm as he methodically rubbed our mutual erections. �God knows where.�\" With that, he pulled our tangle of limbs and lips down to the well-worn rug.

�Dammit . . . too many . . . ahh don�t stop . . . clothes.�\"

To this day, I wasn�t quite sure how we managed to disrobe so quickly. Hooks were frantically unclasped, robes torn asunder without so much a thought, and in no time at all I finally laid eyes on the body that kept the school�s population up at night. There was not an inch of fat on him, just smooth contours and velvety skin still covered in the downy golden hairs of boyhood. He was graced with only the smallest smatterings of moles and scars, but everything only added to the overall effect he had on me.

�Hartia . . . .�\"

I glanced up to see his lust-filled face above me. His eyes burned a molten golden-yellow from under lowered lashes, a hungry smile dancing on his reddened lips. An animal was lurking within that gaze; I could feel it pulling at me. Was I really the one who put that look upon his face? I found it hard to believe. A jolt of sensation assaulted me: he had taken our arousals in his hand and given a firm stroke, settlinto nto a mercilessly deliberate rhythm. Almost sobbing from the feel, I buried my face into his shoulder, holding on for dear life.

Kiriranshelo�s heart was beating as fast as mine.

�Move, please . . . ah . . . more . . . Kiri . . . !\"

�Tell me where.�\" Two strokes, three strokes. God, why didn�t he move faster?

My body was no longer mine to control. He was plying my every nerve like a violin�s strings. I wanted. Wanted this pleasure, this desire�. And he gave as I craved. �\"Hnnn . . . where what . . . ?�\"

�Tell me where I�m bringing you.�EA few more torturous touches as he reached around to twine my hand with his around us both and continued pumping. The room was aflame. Idly I wondered if he noticed. Screams escaped unhindered from my throat.

�Aaah! Closer . . . !�\"

In the recesses of my mind right then, some shred of coherency remained to recognize what he needed to hear. Perhaps he knew I understood at that moment, in all the glorious chaos and sweat-slicked contact, because the sweet up and down fluidity of our linked hands increased with renewed appreciation.

�Say it . . . say where . . . .�\" His breath was hot upon my cheek. The sound of our desperate panting reverberated in the rafters above, like a thousand Hartias and Kiriranshelos.

�C-closer . . . yes . . . closer to heaven!�\"

His chest was heaving with mine now, our hearts singing the same sweet song, our souls merging with the friction of adjoined will. �\". . . mmm . . . say it again . . . .�\" There was no telling where he began and I ended now, my body shared the boundaries of flesh with him.

�Closer to heaven!�\"

�Come with me . . . Hartia,�\" was the breathless command, sealed with his searing lips.

Have I ever denied him?

Ecstasy. Onrushing bliss. Bodies arced almost painfully against each other, lost to unadulterated sensation. I could almost feel the feathering of his very soul against mine, so intense was the feel. The hot smatterings of lust fulfilled danced up my abdomen as I whimpered into his mouth. He ripped his kiss from mine to howl into the summer air.

His cry sounded like the echoing of angels.

I lay on the floor gasping like a dying fish, half expecting to be in another world and not feeling the trembling of Kiriranshelo�s hand as he unraveled it from mine. We remained there on the forgiving rug for a moment, his body blanketing me. Things seemed out of focus. The sharp lines of the stone walls were softened, the humidity temporarily conquered by the tangy scent of sex, the typical sadness in those intensely golden eyes muted. Words buzzed incessantly in my mind�Ey throat grew tight for want of something appropriate to say. There had to be some way I could relate the measure of my affection. He remained sated and silent.

Perhaps words were not needed here.

Under the hand that lovingly stroked his hair, he stirred lightly, squirming a little in an effort to move beside me. A leg was thrown carelessly over my hip as we cuddled closer, nose to nose, enjoying the collective warmth. He gazed drowsily at me from behind half-closed lids and a sweep of long black lashes.

He snickered in half-amusement, half-contentment. �Your eyes are crossed.\"

�Are you worried I\'ll stay this way?�\" I sighed.

A moist touch traced across the damned freckles on my cheek, down the side of my neck, following an invisible path downwards. �I�m worried you won�t.�\"

�Kiri, I can�t make promises not to change . . . but I�ll always love you. If you should ever decide you need someone else, I can�t begrudge you their care. I�ll be waiting for you to come back to me, even if you won�t.�\"

He captured my gaze, ensuring my absolute attention before idly dipping a finger into a still-warm puddle of semen on my belly, bringing it coyly up to his mouth and quickly lapping it up. I gulped as his Adam�s apple bobbed with his satisfied swallow.

Amazing how he found the best ways to say he agreed.

�And if,�\" he whispered, pausing to taste another puddle, �We�re torn apart?�\" The wet glide of passionate tongue sent ripples of warm tingles through my flesh. �If I died tomorrow, would you still wait?�\"

�I would mourn your passing . . . every waking hour and wait . . . for you in dreams . . . and want you evermore.�EMy voice had already turned reedy with growing lust.

I felt his smile against my hardness.

I felt his thanks within my soul.

The years have worn us down, passed through us, and abandoned us. Many years separate our desperate touches from our present. The same old ache remains, seasoned by the despair felt after his �death�\" and �rebirth�\"as Orphen. My body still feels his burning skin. My heart still throbs in the same rhythm it learned from being close to him. My very being still sings for him, even if we come to blows.

Nevertheless . . . when we meet . . . when Childman is not there to remind him of his animosity towards me, when he remembers the suffocating heat of that day . . . . Something in those burning golden eyes is still alive. Deep within them, the flames flicker on.

And I, I am forever the moth.

I wait to be burned.


~owari~