When No One Is Looking
When No One Is Looking

By White Dragon_10

I crept slowly up the stairs, holding every ounce of air inside me. Night had come, and everything was quiet and peaceful. But not to the room I was about to enter. The door itself seemed imposing, as if it was challenging me to enter the chamber. My fingers would shake apprehensively as they touched the brass knob. My heart beat wildly inside my chest. My mind spun in circles as an inch of the heavy door opened. I could not help but sigh in relief that the door did not make any sound ancient doors might make. I stepped in like a cat, my steps padded and silent.

He lay there, on a big, grand bed. Nestled close in the sheets, I could hear his rhythmic breathing, his chest rising and falling accordingly. His eyes were closed, his hair shining black in the darkness, falling over his weary eyes. He was half- naked, every wound and bruise showing across his muscular chest. I could not help but suck in my breath; every aspect of him so beautiful to my eyes. His lips were slightly parted, temptation lurking innocently beneath it. He never knew how much he was so enticing, with the Moon illuminating his visage and form. Desire burned my soul, having wanted him for so long. To take him in my arms, hold him tight, and never let go.

Nearing him, I brushed my hand across his irresistible face. His skin was soft and smooth, occasionally rigid by puckered scars—scars that made him more beautiful to me. I marveled on how his skin had contrasted with mine, him being sun burnt and honey- colored; I being ivory white and milk- colored skinned. I long to utter his name in the dark, with no intention to wake him up. The fire of desire was still blazing and burning my innermost emotions. My hands fingered each healed wound and scar imprinted on his once perfect skin. My skin tingled in the process, and long for him all the more.

Unable to resist the urge seething out of me, one look on his scarcely parted lips and I knew. Moving my face closer to his, my lips locking with his. He was sweet, soft and welcome as his lips were. I increased pressure and slipped my tongue in to taste him. One part of me wanted to wake him up and drown him with kisses and ecstasy; another wanted him to be unaware of my burning intentions and flaming desires. He tasted of honey and nectar, wet, wonderful and beautiful. I drew back after a few minutes, my voice sighing out his name.

Van.

He was more than nothing to me. I had watched him the first day I knew him. His tough exterior attracted me; his sweet nature had me wild. My heart would beat fiercely whenever he would come near. He never knew of my affections and emotions towards him, and I don't want him discovering it either. I appeared to him, rather than being affectionate, the captain of the Crusade as I was. I was the tough and formidable leader on the outside—yet longing and desiring him on the inside.

Right now, my fingers wouldn't keep away from him. He was so like a sleeping child—innocent and youthful in his sleep. I did not want to spoil his sleep, for fear he might discover me, or my affections. I loved him more than I knew how. He was different.

I was about to slip away quietly, unnoticed and unobserved. An ache to touch him again washed over my heart, but I resisted. Some other time, I thought. But just as soon as I touched the cold doorknob, a voice sounded behind me.

"Allen? What are you doing here?" It was he.

I turned around, trying to calm my already pounding heart and hiding my madly blushing face. For the first time I stumbled in front of him, not in deeds, but in words.

"I was just trying to see if you are all right now." I turned again, quickly opening the door.

"Wait!" Van rose up, limping. I noticed a bandage around his legs. He wore nothing but sleeping shorts, revealing to me the rest of his beautiful skin. He touched my hand, sending thrills up and down my spine. Nearer he went, pressing close to my body. It took a lot of control to manage my already shaking countenance. He was smaller than I am, in a few inches. He slid an arm around me—what was he trying to do?

To my surprise, he pressed his lips against mine. He was inexperienced and clumsy as he increased pressure against my mouth. I hold back with self- control, and at the same time, euphoria weakening my defenses. I pull back quickly, so as not to give myself away. Van opened his eyes and bore holes through me in the dark. One look—and he knew. No need for more words to say it. I'm glad. Slipping into the corridors, then to my own chamber, I breathed a quick sigh of relief. I touched my lips with my fingers, feeling the warmth his lips had let out. Emotions flared up and feelings had been concealed: I love him, and I'm sure he loved me too.

Owari

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Authoress' Note:

Haayy… so much for shonen ai! I was inspired in writing this fic after reading 'Jane Eyre' by Charlotte Bronte. I don't know why, because Charlotte hadn't had hentai ideas accumulating in her mind—Maybe her way of describing things was kind of strange, like one time, she had spoken of 'such things as marble kisses, or ice kisses— but there may be experiment kisses, and his was an experiment kiss.' Then I got carried away. It made me think of Dilandau- Sama at first… the thought of an ice kiss suited him exactly. I had originally planned it out to be 100% lemon, but as I cannot write one, I only stick to kisses. I made Allen the main character in the fic because if it had been Dilandau, my romantic mood would be spoiled and I'd have Van raped… anyways, I can't bear to do that. I love him too much for my own good. (Duh?) Maybe someday… but as of now—

Ja ne, minna- san! C'ya next time! ^_^V;

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