(KAI) Sountrack: Sexy, Sexy
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THREE RULES
His heart is close to the surface, beating toward the other boy.
Beat-beat-beat, moan... Under a cloak of stars, and tangled branches. There is a cake of dirt depressed under his knees, a press of hot skin against his back. A burning, sweating huff of air exhales against his neck.
One- Two- Three-
There are rules.
The first is, "Our homework should be done."
(Because it is the first, it is broken most often.)
To be broken can be nice. Nice as a touch against sprawled and pale skin, flushed under fingertips as bronze as a sun's kiss. To be broken again and again and again, screaming.
The second rule, which is the least important-
(As important as the joke of protection, and further, of the threat of comfort and ease...)
-is "It must be a secret."
Of course it is to be secret. These looks going back and forth across crowded rooms and halls and unaware eyes, all turned to other matters. These escapes into the wood, or the dungeons. The flit of robes against sandstone and silhouettes, pressed into countless walls and even less countable days.
Hours, languid.
It must be secret not because it cannot be known. It simply cannot be known. This rule is the most unspoken, the most obvious.
An heir. A savior.
It cannot be let out, like the gasps between parted lips and hissing teeth.
Three- Two- One-
It is a secret, because it must be protected.
Dark skin slides against pale, moonlit shoulders. He won't let anyone take these shoulders from him. Sharp elbows, knobby knees. This thin frame which can be contained, can be controlled, but fights like death in the grip. A twist, a groan against damp grass.
He is owned, anyway. Discarded glasses prove that the other can even be blind and still see where to bind him.
The third rule is, "We must kiss."
The blonde is more frightened than he will ever admit, and grips with the whole of his being. Hush, hush, hush, and the slide of a warm hand across his belly, holding him closer. Dark hair drips into his vision. Their lips meet and match. Pale dusk rose, bruised honey wine. Bent together.
Bent.
The third rule is never broken.