Disclaimer: I do not own D.N.Angel or any of its characters though the story is my own.
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I gave myself a challenge to write this in 60 minutes. It took me 82.
Yaoi. Read, enjoy, and review.
Your friend Madeline
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60 Seconds
The clock ticked and the boy before it momentarily shivered. Just five more minutes. Yes, he was itching to leave, but he would regret it if he rushed. No, this task was not to be rushed. Strategy concerned him. No, it bothered him. To succeed, his strategy must provoke the target. And he was damn well sure it would.
Just one more minute. He checked his watch again. Less than fifty seconds. He had already stood, hastily making his way to the door, fingers posed at the handle. Ready, and silently waiting, the boy checked his watch once more, and decided with baited breath that it was time.
The mirror to his side displayed the all black attire he'd chosen for tonight; a slender pair of slacks and a turtle neck, framing a set of soft features, magnificently red orbs and a head of crimson bangs.
He smiled half-heartedly to his reflection and quickly went about slipping on his mask of silver, painted with emeralds and moonstone, a long crook of metal dressing his nose, before finally disappearing through the door.
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The ballroom was oozing with the rich citizens of Azumano, each glamorous dress or tailor-made suit, topped with a glistening mask, all of them steaming with the free food and drink the Azumano Art museum had supplied for their annual masquerade. The red-head dipped between the darkened back-drops silently with perfect precision. The hall boomed with noises of drunken laughter, and the boy reminded himself he was not to be seen.
He found a set of marble stairs and leapt them without a murmur, making his way through the lifeless upper storeys of the darkened building. The corridor he now walked took a long and eerie journey, his rushed steps emphasising the first floor's sheer size. He paced the last turn until he came upon a locked door, brandished with a sign, reading: 'Staff only'.
He ignored this, taking no time at all to unlock the door and slide through unnoticed.
He knew he'd be there. His masked face fell to the watch on his wrist. He only had 60 seconds. The tall leather backed chair faced the wall opposite him, and a head of blue bangs peered out above it. He ignored the pausing sound of shuffling papers. "Who is there?" asked a voice beyond the chair. A shiver teased his spine.
He wanted so desperately to say something as a confident hand from the unsure boy reached out to touch the cool leather, but as soon as he swung that chair around, he'd only have a minute. He drew a deep breath to calm himself as he slowly turned the chair. A masked blue-haired boy sat facing him; his obvious suited attire had lost its jacket and tie. Blue pools lit at the sight of the masked figure before him, and he stood, leaving inches between them.
Already the red-head felt a heat seep into his stomach. But no, he was not to be intimidated. He had already reached out and grasped strong arms, holding them in place as he pushed the figure slowly into the decorated wall, a motion which took the boy by surprise, his mouth slightly parted as a pair of thirsty lips brushed the tender skin of his neck, teeth gently gnawing at a twitching Adam's apple, and a hot sticky breath daring the now whimpering victim to tell him to stop.
The red-head paused to stare into burning eyes as the boy gasped for air. Hanging lips taunted him as he leaned close, bringing their bodies together. He breathed in the sweet smell of body heat, sweat and cologne from the commander and he wanted so badly to kiss him, to tear away his mask. No, he would make the body beneath his wriggle with need, make it lean into the touch and bring their lips together.
Red orbs darted up to the clock on the wall. 60 seconds was up. He slowly withdrew and reached the door, breathing heavily and readjusting his mask.
"Daisuke", came that same entrancing voice, a slight quiver to its tone, "see you at school tomorrow".