Letting Go
Standard disclaimers apply!
"Clang, clang, clang…" Unyielding eyes watched patiently as the blades of solid steel crashed into each other. The mystic moon shone brightly against the mist-filled horizon, and its defiant luster was all Van could see in those deep blue orbs. He hastily swept the bangs clinging to the sweat of his furrowed brow with one hand hen tightened his grip on his sword. With one large slash across the air, he constantly murmured a barrage of curses, frustrated as the tall knight in one easy turn of the heel. He lunged once more, hearing his name called out. "Attack me! Don't hesitate to hurt me Van Fannel!"
He almost halted mid-swipe, resilience faltering. /Does he know what he's asking?/ He kept his pace, nevertheless, pushing the voices to the back of his head. But he couldn't quite concentrate, not yet, not soon enough, and ensued on a pattern very easily presented to his challenger. Reading his moves, the older boy sidestepped, shifter to his side and nudged him lightly at the back of his head, if not mockingly. The dark eyes burned with pure fury as the young king turned his head to glare, tired hands resting on his knees. "You're not aggressive enough. What happened to the boy who saved Fanelia? Gone soft already?" The taunt rang in his ears, making him dangerously unhesitant to hurt. In a furor he rushed to the taller boys knees, knocking him back as he crashed right on top of him. Leveling himself up to eye-level, brown met blue in a heated glower, eyes gone blind in a rage. "Is this what you want?" The calm demeanor remained, only except for a small flicker, akin to a shudder, that coursed inside the deep blue pools, hidden almost completely. But Van would not miss it, for he wanted that shudder, or any similar reaction.
/Do you know what I want Allen?/… /Do you know what I want Van?/
Suddenly, painfully, something in the boy shattered. Fanelia. He was ruler, alone, in a risen land full of promise and hope. Of people of vision, men of valor and women of compassion, that had survived the grimmest of fates. They all needed him, looked up to him, and worshiped him to an extent. It would be so easy, so pleasant to capture the wordless plea hovering above his head. But what next? Fanelia did not, he was adamant, need an immoral king. Immoral. If the incessant urge pushed too far, if he could not ignore this now, he would not forget this, ever. Lost in the thought he pulled back, a tremendous effort that seemed feeble as he couldn't even release his breath. Release, he needed, couldn't, surely… His body stopped responding to thought immediately. All arguments faded to suddenly it was almost frightening. He stared intently at the tantalizing blue depths, questioning, wondering what it was that took hold of him. An emotion… Was it… Or… Then coming to his senses, gasped in delayed exasperation. "It", was indeed, two instigating hands, resting lightly cupped over the clefts of his rear. His eyes raised daggers at the cool appraising eyes, not noting how they've gradually softened. It was dreamy observance for Allen, having the boyish face hovering conveniently near his, and the soothing wave of warmth the slight body provided that was so fascinatingly in contrast to the damp sharp blades of grass piercing the nape o his neck. He waited patiently for the hot breath to resume seeping at his face and could not help but smile. Van had held it for what he estimated as a full minute now.
Van hissed, surprising himself with how annoyed he was. Allen's sensuous features were unforgiving in their seriousness, but that little curve, so small it was barely visible, but everything changed in his expression completely. The shadows played rich, languid muteness on the alabaster complexion, allowing only a few glimpses of moonlight to grace the temples and the thin golden tresses. "Very good Van. Very aggressive."
Van blinked, suspicion rousing him. "Nani? This is want you meant when…" He spoke before thinking, and as soon as the words fled out he realized what they meant, his admission to –understanding- the long winding innuendo heavily hung in the air, around them, between them, beneath them…
Allen could not help it. He paused. He chuckled. He paused again, then settled for a smile out of whim. "Ie, this is really more than I expected. Tonight…"
Van immediately scowled, offended, insulted… he did not really know. He turned to rise, one hand assisting him off the floor and the other – caught. His face twisted from indifference to shock as he was pulled forward, tumbling unceremoniously back to Allen's chest, face first. "Baka yarou! What do you want," he cussed, not realizing the double meaning of his words at their present situation, in a growling murmur mumbled against firm flesh pressed to his face.
"What can you offer?"
The tone was serious, back to it's knightly front. The younger boy squinted, the expression grim on his face as he supported his weight with his own hands placed on either side of Allen's head. The words had been carefully selected, as Allen would handle matters. Most of the time. /Offer/ he had said, as it was Van deciding, Van offering, Van letting him. Not being taken, surprised or expected to submit, like their past and single /almost/ encounter before. Allen had come to him by will of sheer force. The brush wasn't merely physical, although brief. The dark cell, the coldness and loneliness inside and out, the adrenaline rush of lust formed by instigating fire of denial… They were there, Van's chained wrists pinned above his head blocking his red shirt from being discarded completely, trousers to his knees, tears streaming down his cheeks as well as blood from harshly bitten lips, horrified beyond anything else than to have enemy soldiers discover and witness his humiliating position, wriggling, shuddering, writhing… strong deft hands were everywhere, hungry lips nipping and sucking and kissing with more enthusiasm at the sound of every curse, every whimper, every cry of defiance, until every no the quivering lips uttered dissolved into a gasping near-convulsion, every inch of his sweat drained body begging for release defiantly, even as he snarled at it with all his fury, losing all his resolve, his dignity, for this one incredible… Van closed his eyes at the repressed memory. At that moment it seemed like the most important thing in the world, and Van would have given up, although back then there wasn't much to give up, his entire kingdom for that delirious ache exploding in his body to fulfill him. Instead what he was left with was the chilled evening breeze cruelly clamping over his saliva trailed chest, the darkness not even allowing him to see across the room where another young man huddled in a corner. All the anger and frustration balled up and rammed into his groin. He had not wanted this, He had wanted this. He… He didn't give a shit anymore but he knew that moment it was worse than death to have that much taken away so coldly. "I will not have you regretting this in the morning." Not when entire nations were depending on him. Not when their reputations were on the line. Not when his hormones were blackmailing him. Allen had made his point. /Grow up Van./
Van /allowing him, Allen…/. Right now the memory seemed distant, after all they've accomplished, as a team with Hitomi and Merle, /like an anecdote long untold/. But the pain had been real, the resounding slap on his face. Vahn stared straight out into the trees, as if he could make out something I the darkness. Insistently Allen had raised a hand to cup his cheek, lightly pulling it down to face him. Van involuntarily leaned into it, making it more of a caress, if anything else, then looked at Allen with carefully masked eyes. He could not harbor any ill feelings for the knight, not finding any reasons other than flat out frustration. /Allen?/
"I'm right here Van. Look at me, as I see you."
Van felt his arms lightly tremble. "What do you see?"
A drop of sweat fell on his cheek, but instead of wiping it away his hand moved into its source. "Myself. And nothing else." The weary arms gave way, making Van fall into the protective arms waiting. He let himself sink completely in the embrace, fighting the urge to break into withering sobs. He clung fiercely, afraid, open and vulnerable, breaking away from the pressure, the hunger, and the emptiness inside him. It felt bitterly good, to admit necessity. He could feel his heightened heartbeat begin to ease down, gradually slowing its pace to match a peaceful beating thumping beneath him. They settled in each other's bodies, fitting snugly in silent, worshipping sanctuary.
"Ne, Allen?" Van called, the sudden movement in his features allowing a leeway for one warm tear to stream down the side of his cheek. "Hmm?" Van could've squirmed uneasily in his place, but the soothing rhythm of Allen's heartbeat would not let him escape it's accurate whispering. "Back then, how did you know it was not the time?" Allen closed his eyes for a pensive moment, not for thought of an answer, but to rekindle the emotion that struck him on that night. It was an easy question and he had an easy answer, but explaining was left undesirable. Allen sighed. "Because you would not have me kiss you."
The brown eyes widened, then suddenly lidded in deep contemplation. It was veritable. He had shoved that beautiful face away; before he was sent crashing into stone walls and the devouring lips bit the sprawled form of his neck. It was all-downward from there, so to speak, and not a single tender moment took place before their raging young libidos made them oblivious to the fact. Van slowly lifted his head, then traced a finger onto the side of the flushed cheek until the blue depths blinked open one at a time. "I see now…" He drew closer.
A small smile. The lips touched, gently. /You're right here/.
Hitomi:If you liked this please visit Aki-niichan's dojo at
http://geocities.com/Tokyo/Blossom/2728/index.html
Thanx!
Standard disclaimers apply!
"Clang, clang, clang…" Unyielding eyes watched patiently as the blades of solid steel crashed into each other. The mystic moon shone brightly against the mist-filled horizon, and its defiant luster was all Van could see in those deep blue orbs. He hastily swept the bangs clinging to the sweat of his furrowed brow with one hand hen tightened his grip on his sword. With one large slash across the air, he constantly murmured a barrage of curses, frustrated as the tall knight in one easy turn of the heel. He lunged once more, hearing his name called out. "Attack me! Don't hesitate to hurt me Van Fannel!"
He almost halted mid-swipe, resilience faltering. /Does he know what he's asking?/ He kept his pace, nevertheless, pushing the voices to the back of his head. But he couldn't quite concentrate, not yet, not soon enough, and ensued on a pattern very easily presented to his challenger. Reading his moves, the older boy sidestepped, shifter to his side and nudged him lightly at the back of his head, if not mockingly. The dark eyes burned with pure fury as the young king turned his head to glare, tired hands resting on his knees. "You're not aggressive enough. What happened to the boy who saved Fanelia? Gone soft already?" The taunt rang in his ears, making him dangerously unhesitant to hurt. In a furor he rushed to the taller boys knees, knocking him back as he crashed right on top of him. Leveling himself up to eye-level, brown met blue in a heated glower, eyes gone blind in a rage. "Is this what you want?" The calm demeanor remained, only except for a small flicker, akin to a shudder, that coursed inside the deep blue pools, hidden almost completely. But Van would not miss it, for he wanted that shudder, or any similar reaction.
/Do you know what I want Allen?/… /Do you know what I want Van?/
Suddenly, painfully, something in the boy shattered. Fanelia. He was ruler, alone, in a risen land full of promise and hope. Of people of vision, men of valor and women of compassion, that had survived the grimmest of fates. They all needed him, looked up to him, and worshiped him to an extent. It would be so easy, so pleasant to capture the wordless plea hovering above his head. But what next? Fanelia did not, he was adamant, need an immoral king. Immoral. If the incessant urge pushed too far, if he could not ignore this now, he would not forget this, ever. Lost in the thought he pulled back, a tremendous effort that seemed feeble as he couldn't even release his breath. Release, he needed, couldn't, surely… His body stopped responding to thought immediately. All arguments faded to suddenly it was almost frightening. He stared intently at the tantalizing blue depths, questioning, wondering what it was that took hold of him. An emotion… Was it… Or… Then coming to his senses, gasped in delayed exasperation. "It", was indeed, two instigating hands, resting lightly cupped over the clefts of his rear. His eyes raised daggers at the cool appraising eyes, not noting how they've gradually softened. It was dreamy observance for Allen, having the boyish face hovering conveniently near his, and the soothing wave of warmth the slight body provided that was so fascinatingly in contrast to the damp sharp blades of grass piercing the nape o his neck. He waited patiently for the hot breath to resume seeping at his face and could not help but smile. Van had held it for what he estimated as a full minute now.
Van hissed, surprising himself with how annoyed he was. Allen's sensuous features were unforgiving in their seriousness, but that little curve, so small it was barely visible, but everything changed in his expression completely. The shadows played rich, languid muteness on the alabaster complexion, allowing only a few glimpses of moonlight to grace the temples and the thin golden tresses. "Very good Van. Very aggressive."
Van blinked, suspicion rousing him. "Nani? This is want you meant when…" He spoke before thinking, and as soon as the words fled out he realized what they meant, his admission to –understanding- the long winding innuendo heavily hung in the air, around them, between them, beneath them…
Allen could not help it. He paused. He chuckled. He paused again, then settled for a smile out of whim. "Ie, this is really more than I expected. Tonight…"
Van immediately scowled, offended, insulted… he did not really know. He turned to rise, one hand assisting him off the floor and the other – caught. His face twisted from indifference to shock as he was pulled forward, tumbling unceremoniously back to Allen's chest, face first. "Baka yarou! What do you want," he cussed, not realizing the double meaning of his words at their present situation, in a growling murmur mumbled against firm flesh pressed to his face.
"What can you offer?"
The tone was serious, back to it's knightly front. The younger boy squinted, the expression grim on his face as he supported his weight with his own hands placed on either side of Allen's head. The words had been carefully selected, as Allen would handle matters. Most of the time. /Offer/ he had said, as it was Van deciding, Van offering, Van letting him. Not being taken, surprised or expected to submit, like their past and single /almost/ encounter before. Allen had come to him by will of sheer force. The brush wasn't merely physical, although brief. The dark cell, the coldness and loneliness inside and out, the adrenaline rush of lust formed by instigating fire of denial… They were there, Van's chained wrists pinned above his head blocking his red shirt from being discarded completely, trousers to his knees, tears streaming down his cheeks as well as blood from harshly bitten lips, horrified beyond anything else than to have enemy soldiers discover and witness his humiliating position, wriggling, shuddering, writhing… strong deft hands were everywhere, hungry lips nipping and sucking and kissing with more enthusiasm at the sound of every curse, every whimper, every cry of defiance, until every no the quivering lips uttered dissolved into a gasping near-convulsion, every inch of his sweat drained body begging for release defiantly, even as he snarled at it with all his fury, losing all his resolve, his dignity, for this one incredible… Van closed his eyes at the repressed memory. At that moment it seemed like the most important thing in the world, and Van would have given up, although back then there wasn't much to give up, his entire kingdom for that delirious ache exploding in his body to fulfill him. Instead what he was left with was the chilled evening breeze cruelly clamping over his saliva trailed chest, the darkness not even allowing him to see across the room where another young man huddled in a corner. All the anger and frustration balled up and rammed into his groin. He had not wanted this, He had wanted this. He… He didn't give a shit anymore but he knew that moment it was worse than death to have that much taken away so coldly. "I will not have you regretting this in the morning." Not when entire nations were depending on him. Not when their reputations were on the line. Not when his hormones were blackmailing him. Allen had made his point. /Grow up Van./
Van /allowing him, Allen…/. Right now the memory seemed distant, after all they've accomplished, as a team with Hitomi and Merle, /like an anecdote long untold/. But the pain had been real, the resounding slap on his face. Vahn stared straight out into the trees, as if he could make out something I the darkness. Insistently Allen had raised a hand to cup his cheek, lightly pulling it down to face him. Van involuntarily leaned into it, making it more of a caress, if anything else, then looked at Allen with carefully masked eyes. He could not harbor any ill feelings for the knight, not finding any reasons other than flat out frustration. /Allen?/
"I'm right here Van. Look at me, as I see you."
Van felt his arms lightly tremble. "What do you see?"
A drop of sweat fell on his cheek, but instead of wiping it away his hand moved into its source. "Myself. And nothing else." The weary arms gave way, making Van fall into the protective arms waiting. He let himself sink completely in the embrace, fighting the urge to break into withering sobs. He clung fiercely, afraid, open and vulnerable, breaking away from the pressure, the hunger, and the emptiness inside him. It felt bitterly good, to admit necessity. He could feel his heightened heartbeat begin to ease down, gradually slowing its pace to match a peaceful beating thumping beneath him. They settled in each other's bodies, fitting snugly in silent, worshipping sanctuary.
"Ne, Allen?" Van called, the sudden movement in his features allowing a leeway for one warm tear to stream down the side of his cheek. "Hmm?" Van could've squirmed uneasily in his place, but the soothing rhythm of Allen's heartbeat would not let him escape it's accurate whispering. "Back then, how did you know it was not the time?" Allen closed his eyes for a pensive moment, not for thought of an answer, but to rekindle the emotion that struck him on that night. It was an easy question and he had an easy answer, but explaining was left undesirable. Allen sighed. "Because you would not have me kiss you."
The brown eyes widened, then suddenly lidded in deep contemplation. It was veritable. He had shoved that beautiful face away; before he was sent crashing into stone walls and the devouring lips bit the sprawled form of his neck. It was all-downward from there, so to speak, and not a single tender moment took place before their raging young libidos made them oblivious to the fact. Van slowly lifted his head, then traced a finger onto the side of the flushed cheek until the blue depths blinked open one at a time. "I see now…" He drew closer.
A small smile. The lips touched, gently. /You're right here/.
Hitomi:If you liked this please visit Aki-niichan's dojo at
http://geocities.com/Tokyo/Blossom/2728/index.html
Thanx!