Chapter 3 A very rough version of a very juicy chapter
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This chapter is, at the moment, a work-in-progress. I usually don't post chapters in-progress because of the profound number of grammatical and spelling errors they tend to have. I'm responding to some fan requests for "More! As soon as possible!" (= I appreciate the enthusiasm, and apologize for posting some untidy work. This chapter is under construction. My intent is to toss this version up for a couple of weeks for review, then rewrite it into a more civilized and longer version. This is just the opening bit for the chapter, which promises to be very juicy.
NOTE part 2: I tidied this up some. The final version will be much longer, and will require a bit more time to pull together.
Please enjoy, and do bear with my many misspellings and wandering tense. It shows some of the mental meanderings that take place prior to the final rewrite.
Fair warning: This is the very juiciest of my chapters. Do read with caution. Not to be taken seriously or internally or by most minors. Some shonen-ai content.
Setting: Swan Gazebo, early morning
The sun had beaten down with a vengeance on the campus of Weston College for weeks. It showed no mercy, baking underclassmen, prefects and professors alike. One of very few places blessed with a cooling breeze was the elegant Swan Gazebo. In the very early morning it was a momentary refuge from the ongoing heatwave. By lunchtime, it would be unbearable. Only Prefects and their fags were permitted, and at present, the gazebo held only two occupants. Redmond and Violet were sprawled in ungentlemanly poses, still somehow looking elegant in their disarray.
"Blast this retched weather!" muttered Redmond, pushing his damp hair from his brow. "I'm already beginning to sweat, just from walking here." He frowned at his companion. "Aren't you roasting in that thing?"
Violet lounged in the big wicker chair, enjoying the cool of the morning. The weather had been wretchedly hot, and an early-morning visit to the Gazebo offered one of the few opportunities to escape the heat. He played with a cup of lukewarm tea, watching bits of leaf floating on its amber surface.
"Violet!" hissed Redmond, prodding him with his toe.
"Nnnnn?" the black-haired young man showed a slight sign of life, stroking the edge of his purple-lined hood. He wore it constantly, regardless of the weather. In the foggy early morning, it felt very comfortable. He liked to hide under that hood and pretend the world didn't exist. The pale-haired Prefect sitting nearby would not be ignored, however.
"Ahem" Violet's eyes flicked upwards momentarily. The only other occupant of the gazebo sat across from him, tapping a foot with elegant impatience. Violet watched the foot, keeping his eyes low and trying not to smile. He tried to ignore the silent demand for attention. Redmond was not amused.
"Violet." His voice was stern.
The sallow-looking Prefect flicked the lock of white hair out of his eyes and glanced upwards.
"Mmmmm?"
"Don't play dumb." Redmond planted his hands on his slender hips. "You skipped out on paying me last night." Violet did smile then, spoiling his efforts to look innocent. He favored his fellow Prefect with a sultry gaze.
"Why, Redmond... whatever do you mean?" The graceful blonde stood up and stalked over to where Violet sat, an endearing pout on his lips. His green eyes flashed.
"That cheeky boy didn't drop his bow - "
"Not that I didn't TRY," murmured Violet silkily.
"Nevertheless, you owe me a forfeit," announced Redmond, standing over him. Violet's gold eyes flashed.
"Really? Now? You seem impatient for it..."
Redmond folded his arms, his crimson cloak hanging from one slender hand.
"Pay up."
Violet bared his teeth.
"Make me."
Redmond pounced, in a blur of pale gold and red, engulfing Violet in his cloak like a penny dreadful vampire. He caught Violet's face in his hands and claimed his forfeit in the form of a passionate kiss. Violet offered no resistance, moving his mouth eagerly against Redmond's and sliding his hands down to grip his firm backside. They kissed for a long minute, performing oral acrobatics that would have gotten them both expelled had anyone seen them. Violet squeezed him firmly and gave as good as he got. He never bet anything he wasn't willing to lose. At last giving in the need to breathe, they broke the kiss and settled into the settee with a mutual sigh of pleasure. Violet licked his lips and nestled comfortably against Redmond's chest. Limbs entangled, they all but purred.
"I say... that was a debt well-payed!" Redmond, somewhat flushed, dropped a kiss on Violet's forehead. He stroked the very pretty jaw and drew a finger over the black painted lips.
Violet nipped at his fingers, but Edgar was too fast. He caught Violet under the chin and stole another kiss.
"You can call that a down payment for the next time you owe me."
Violet frowned at him a little, squirming to look up at him. "You think I can't do it." Redmond smiled.
"Why don't you dump him? You can do better."
Violet sat up, gliding his fingers through his black mane to tame it.
" I don't want 'better'. I want HIM."
"Why?"
Violet's eyes were half-closed. "He's a bad boy."
"That's it, then?"
"No... he's also very skilled... he's clever as hell, he's quick, he's got a backbone and he's bold as brass.." Violet thought some more. "And he's very, very cute!"
Redmond arched his brows. "With that hair?!" Violet licked his lips naughtily.
"You're looking in the wrong spot. Have you seen his ass?"
"Goodness no, have you?"
"Not in the raw, yet..." Violet raised his glass and drained it. "But I watch it all the time through his pants."
Redmond shook his head. "You are an incurable lecher." He leaned his chin on his hand, watching Violet licking the leaves off the rim of his cup. "Tell me, then... are things getting interesting between the two of you?"
"They are interesting enough," murmured Violet, inspecting his empty cup.
"Ohhh? And how are you and your little friend making out?" Violet pouted slightly.
"Well... we aren't. Not yet at least... Making out, that is." Redmond clucked his tongue.
"Tsk, tsk, dear Violet... Are you losing your touch?"
"Don't be a pill, Edgar Dear. I am merely being subtle, that's all." Redmond plucked the cup from his hand.
"So subtle that he didn't notice it." Violet stood and shook his clothing back into place, running his hands over his body in such a way that Edgar almost dropped his cup. The golden eyes sparkled hungrily.
"Oh, he noticed alright. I made sure of THAT." He meaninlfully slid the tip of one painted finger into his mouth. Redmond had to swallow hard.
"STILL - you seemed to be going awfully light on him yesterday."
"Do tell." Violet bent over to adjust his cuffs, providing a tempting view. He smirked at Redmond's expression. "Well, I plan to step up my game." He straightened and adjusted his hair again. "Did you bring me what I asked for?"
Redmond found his breath again, and retrieved a small basket from beneath his chair.
"Is this what you're looking for?" The basket was covered with a red silk scarf. Violet lifted it and peered into the basket. The black lips curved upwards.
"Oh, yes... I believe these will do nicely! Well done." He slid past Redmond, delivering a warm nibble to the side of his neck as payment. Redmond rubbed the spot, thoughtfully.
"Well, if that doesn't work, I have several other helpful suggestions."
"I'm sure you do," purred Violet. He flourished the basket. "One dropped bow, coming up!"
Redmond pointed a slender finger at him.
"If he doesn't drop it this time, you owe me double."
Violet glided in very close, pulling his hood up slowly.
"I'm a betting man. Let's make it pay triple."
Redmond's slender white hand shot out to grasp Violet's in a gentleman's agreement.
"I'll take that wager." Violet sealed the deal with a flirt of his hips and a slow lick of the lips.
"It's a bet." He turned and sauntered off, basket in hand. Redmond watched him go.
"Oh - and Violet?"
The hooded figure stopped, listening.
" Make him squirm"
Soft laughter answered him.
"I intend to!"
More coming in late February ~ See if Violet can make Chessie drop his bow!
NOTE 3: And here is just a little more... While it is still February!
Cheslock sprinted across the lawn, taking a forbidden shortcut. Taking a sharp turn, he dodged into the west wing of the music conservatory. Conductor Colvin had just missed seeing him. That would surely have meant seriously delay as the red-faced conductor bent his ear about the upcoming concert. Being a soloist, Cheslock was often having his ear bent by the music master about one thing or another. Avoiding detection, he sprinted up to the third floor. He cursed the late summer heat that matted his hair and stuck his clothes to his body. Breathing hard, he found himself in the long hall leading to the little-used practice room. It was shady here, though no less stifling than the rest of the school. Cheslock mopped his streaming brow with a much-used handkerchief. He ran a hand over his ruffled white crest and straightened his crooked tie. For a moment, he rested his hand on the cool brass doorknob, wondering what fresh distractions Violet had in store for him. He licked his lips and turned the knob.
"You are very nearly late, you know." The dark, liquid voice scolded him gently from the depths of a nearby shadow. Cheslock nearly dropped from fright.
"Jesus in a Jam Jar, Violet!" he croaked huskily. "Give me a heart attack!"
A little, black smile curved upwards in his Prefect's perfect white face. A glint of gold glittered at him mirthfully from under the ever-present hood. Violet, a little quieter than a shadow, detached himself from the gloom and drifted forward. His swirling black robes reminded him of smoke. Violet cocked his head slightly at his flustered Fag.
"Would you open the door for me? I have my hands full."
Cheslock looked down. So he did. Violet carried a gold-trimmed china plate covered in a crimson napkin. He held a goblet of something that Cheslock suspected was a little stronger than ordinary grape juice in the other. He drifted soundlessly into the room as the door was opened for him. Cheslock followed, watching as Violet set his plate down on a small table by the curtained windows. A pale hand whisked the red napkin away, revealing a small feast - a wedge of fragrant cheese, a heel of bread and... grapes... a generous pile of them. They created a seductive red mound, glistening like moist jewels in the sun. Just looking at them made him thirsty. Violet's brows raised when Cheslock shot him a disapproving look.
"You're... eating...? NOW? "
Violet gave him the sort of patient look that one might give a simple-minded child.
"Of course I am. I eat all the time. Sometimes every day."
Cheslock frowned. It was generally considered rude to be chomping away at something during a musical performance. Still, he stepped carefully.
"I just meant... while I am playing?"
Violet was well aware of the breech of etiquette. He lounged elegantly in a plum-upholostered chair.
"Sorry, old man - I missed lunch!" He sipped delicately from his glass and nibbled at the wedge of cheese.
"Surely, you don't want me to faint from hunger, do you?" He had a point there.
Cheslock shrugged and raised his bow. Fair enough. He figured that a fainting Violet plunging to the floor would be a far greater distraction than simply watching him eat.
He was dead wrong.