Disclaimer - I own nothing relating to Ai no Kusabi. All characters belong to the womderful Rieko Yoshihara. I am making no money from the posting of this small fic.
Set during the time in the novels from Riki and Iason's first meeting to when Iason finally captures Riki.
Enjoy!
191026!
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1.
Preparation
Forfour weeks his mind and body had been restless, his demeanour and mood listless. A month that had dragged on so as to feel something more akin to four long and excruciating years. Four weeks, and still the male brooded over what could simply be termed, a one time only, sexual tryst.
Staring at his reflection in the bathroom mirror as he raised the scissors to his exquisite blond hair, Iason sucked in a long, deep and calming breath, as he prepared to take the first cut.
Closing his gleaming blue eyes at the last millisecond, Iason's heart almost stopped as the first 'snip' of the scissors had been made. The first cut to his golden weaved hair.
Opening his eyes, he glanced down at the marble worktop in front of him. Staring almost sadly at the shorn three inches of his blond hair, Iason knew he had to keep going. After all, the joy of long hair? It would grow back.
Daryl watched from afar as his master hacked away at least half of the length of his hair. Precious silken strands which had previously touched the tops of his thighs, now rested just on the half way of his back. Oh how the living furniture wanted to go and prise the scissors from Iason's powerful hands. How he wanted to find a way to magically glue that fallen hair back on. He desperately wanted to slap his master silly. However, he knew that, once his master had set his sights on something, nothing nor no-one could deter him.
It was just four weeks ago, that Daryl had learned that his master had elicited certain sexual acts with a person, during a rare visit out into the city. Daryl was not sure who the person was, but ever since then, Iason had been restless, edgy and exceedingly irritable, more so than usual. Even so, Daryl still remained silent, watching Iason's erratic behaviour, never saying a word or questioning the blond males authority, just as he'd always done.
Almost throwing the scissors down against the worktop, Iason ran shaking fingers through his now shredded hair. It was half the length it had been, complete with shorter layers through the back and front. His previous middle shed was flipped round so a side shed graced the top of his head, sending shorter blond bangs cascading down to almost cover his right eye from view.
Tilting his head, then turning it from side to side, Iason smiled slightly at his handiwork. Now it was time for the second phase of his scheme.
"Daryl?"
Seemingly out of nowhere, the cinnamon haired youth darted into the master's bathroom.
"You wish my assistance, sir?"
Iason said nothing more, he simply removed the flowing Grecian style outer garments and belt from his form fitting body suit and held them out to the furniture.
Daryl quietly took the garments from the older male before folding them neatly, sitting them atop a small bench on the other side of the room.
"Do you need anything more, Master?"
"Yes. I need you to change the colour of my hair. I need it….dark brown."
The cinnamon haired youth held back a startled gasp at Iason's bizarre request. Why in the world would he want to destroy his wonderful golden hair? Why degrade himself to look like a common piece of furniture….worse still….a piece of slum trash.
Still gob smacked, Daryl failed to notice that Iason had crossed his arms over his broad chest and had begun tapping his booted foot off of the virgin white floor tiles.
"I apologise for the delay in my thoughts sir. It is certainly not like you to make such a request. However, I will not and do not plan to try and stop you. It is not my place."
"Good. Now, lets begin shall we?"
Almost 15minutes later, Iason sat statue still on the floor of the extensive bathroom. The smell of the ammonia in the temporary dye was making his head spin ever so slightly. A few random strands of hair fell from the tight knot atop his head to land in front of his eyes. Taking in the darker shade his luxurious golden hair was taking on sent a shiver down the elites spine.
"Very soon."
Daryl sat near his master, catching any stray bits of dye that began running down the blond's neck. Checking the time on his furniture tag, Daryl swiftly stood up and motioned for Iason to do the same.
"Forty minutes have passed sir. I must rinse the dye from your hair before it turns any darker."
Iason said nothing but shut his eyes and bowed his head ever so slightly to the youth in front of him.
Feeling the hot water trickle down behind his ears, down the back of his neck and run round his jaw gave the older male more shivers. Tonight, he would catch once again what had literally taken his breath away. No matter what it took, he would find that raven haired fiery youth who crumbled from his very touch.
A sly smirk graced Iason's lips as Daryl thoroughly rinsed every last trace of dye from his hair.
"Ok sir, that's it all out of your hair." Daryl announced as he shut the hot water off.
Towelling out any excess water, the cinnamon haired youth couldn't help but gasp out loud at the colour of the previous blond males hair.
Not even commenting on Daryl's small vocal outburst, Iason quickly strode into his private chambers and locked the door leaving the human furniture nothing to do but….wait.
Iason rummaged through various drawers in his massive bedroom before he finally found what he had hidden all too well. Holding the garments up in front of his face, Iason couldn't help the almost childish smile that crept across his beautiful features.
Moving over to his massive dresser, Iason looked in silent awe at the still damp hair adorning his head. Running slightly trembling fingers through his wet locks, he snapped his eyes shut, as if to block out the damage willingly inflicted on his pride and joy.
Plucking up the courage from deep within his being, Iason finally opened his cerulean blue eyes to take in the deep brown of his hair, running fingers through it's still damp length, the elite marvelled at the darker and lighter tones making themselves prominent as his hair began to dry. Pleased with his human furniture's handiwork, Iason returned to his massive bed to put on the clothes he had been saving from his youth.
Stripping himself down, he couldn't help but catch his reflection in the full length mirror on the far wall. Taking in the muscled curves to his lean body, every dip and curve, every shadow and highlight, Iason firmly believed he looked particularly good this evening. It was as if the gods themselves had blessed him with what felt and looked like a better body for the sole purpose of snaring the raven haired youth.
Snapping himself from his Narcissus like trance, Iason picked up the tight fitting leather trousers from his bed. Easing them over his well toned thighs, the Blondie sucked in his flat stomach slightly so as to zip up the cold garment. Staring confused at the top button to the leather trousers, Iason looked once again at his frame, mentally comparing it to what it was like when he was 20years old in the same trousers.
"Curse it. I appear to be larger now than I was then….I suppose the top button could stay loose….."
Nodding at his decision, Iason grabbed his thick leather white gold plated belt and draped it loosely around his hips, that way, it would shift as he walked. Enticing.
Picking up the leather jacket from where he had draped it over his bedside chair, Iason looked over at the severed left sleeve. Damn that Raoul. The two of them had gotten into a fight in their youth. Fights between them were usually over sex….or their lack of monogamy or exclusivity. Raoul had a wandering eye, as did Iason. Both wandered to different Blondie elites on that particular drug filled night. Even though both had slept with other men, they blamed one another thus justification for the fight. Iason came out of it with a severed jacket sleeve and a nasty wound across his stomach from Raoul's blade. Raoul had come out of their fight with two black eyes, bite marks on his shoulder and neck and a proud, gloating smile for having literally raped Iason while he recovered from being slashed across the stomach.
Pulling the jacket with smart red velvet lining and edging over his shoulders, Iason took a step back and looked at the bigger picture. Something was missing.
Sliding his deep onyx ring onto his middle finger on his left hand, Iason realised with some distain that his outfit still was not right. Storming back over to the drawer he pulled his leathers from, he smiled slightly when he found the completion to his outfit. Edging the material onto his naked left arm. A blood red arm warmer, the colour of the lining and edging on his jacket finished his look….almost.
Back over at his dresser, Iason lifted a small ornate crystal box from his bottom drawer. Deep brown, almost black contact lenses sat staring darkly up at him. Picking one up with the pad of his index finger, Iason began the unpleasant task of inserting the water based contacts. True enough, he could just take a lasting supply of Gazers with him to keep the colour of his eyes a constant but, the side effects were less than desirable at times. Hallucinations, vertigo, sickness and unfortunate bouts of diaharrea, and that was in the simple cases. Memory loss, tumours and death could occasionally occur when Gazers were consumed as part of ones staple diet. Iason didn't want to risk a thing. He was planning on a night of debauchery and mind falteringly filthy sex, the last thing he needed was a bout of the runs. Contacts would suffice. They would hurt his eyes given time but, sore eyes over possible death? No contest.
Blinking his eyes a few times to shift the contacts, Iason rubbed the salty tears away and looked again at his reflection. His hair was almost dry, a slight wave pulling it's way through his dark tresses like silky ribbons.
"Ah, almost missed you two."
Taking the small sapphire studs from his ears, Iason replaced them with onyx ones, identical to his ring. A small tracer in the right ear so Jupiter didn't think her prize Blondie had flown the coop.
Flicking his hair from his face, Iason pulled a black and red leather fingerless glove onto his right hand while plopping back down on his plush black silk covered bed. Knee high leather boots were pulled over lean but muscles calves and clipped tightly shut just under well sculpted knees.
Now….now he was ready.
oOoOoOo
Gazer - when consumed orally, can change the colour of ones eyes. However, excessive consumption can lead to unwanted sideaffects.
Next chapter - Twist with how Iason seems to recognise Guy when he sees him with Riki. Special appearance from 'fallen elite' Nanjo Koji!
