Dangerous Liaisons Prologue Written by Matrim. ~for niccy~ +++++ It was silent in the room except for his breathing. It was harsh, irregular and coming in pants. His black hair, known as immaculate amongst fans and peers, concealed his face. His body was bare...bereft of clothing, blankets and sheets. The only thing covering his body was sweat. He couldn't understand why it was so hot. After all, he had been complaining to himself on how cold his place got, then he remembered falling asleep. And now...gods, it was hot. So...hot... A whisper that wasn't his own pierced the night, an arm coming about his middle to pull him close against a lean muscled chest. He murmured, his head resting against the other's shoulder. "Did you like that?" A barest nod from him. He knew that the other didn't like him to respond verbally, unless ordered otherwise. He spied the other man's shoulder under him and shifted slightly, lavishing kisses on that shoulder as if begging. "No, no...not yet, my pet, not yet." A whimper. "I know...I know." The whisper soothed him and he was shifted in the other's arms. He found himself being turned to face the window. "Look at the moon, pet." He raised his head from the other man's shoulder and looked up at the moon, a thin sliver of silver against black velvet. He stared at it, admiring its beauty before he wondered oddly why he was staring at it in the first place. There was a deep chuckle and a hand stroked through his damp hair. He murmured incoherently to himself, leaning into the petting. "When the moon is full, you will finally know who I am." His interest peeked at that and he shifted in the other man's arms, almost with impatience. Could he actually wait that long or would he break down and dash toward his bedroom light, turn it on and finally see who his lover was? His eyes closed as soft lips found his way to his neck, kissing before a sharp bite made him gasp out loud. He relaxed against his lover when a moist tongue darted out to lick the bite. He moaned. This would definitely leave a mark in the morning. A sob broke through the air. This wasn't real. In the morning, he would be gone and he would be alone once again. Cold. Too damned cold. He didn't want to be cold. Freezing. He wanted to be hot. Burning, seered with an impossible heat and when it was all over, he wanted to be warm. He never wanted to be cold again. "Don't weep...I will be with you soon." But not soon enough!! He felt like wailing as soft lips descended on his, parting his lips and tongue stroking his own to dance. His eyes closed as he was laid out against his soft bed, blankets and sheets tucked around him. Another kiss was brushed out against his forehead and he fell asleep, a slight smile on his face. Warmth.... ++++ The alarm went off. Ryutaro rolled over with a grunt, burrowing deeper into his blankets and sheets and ducked his head under a Tarepanda pillow given to him by Tadashi. Too cold out there. Nice and warm in here. His hand began to travel along the bed, as if searching for something then stopped. Ryutaro poked his head out from under the pillow, and glanced around. He was missing something.... ...Or rather someone. He sighed, hiding back into his pillows and blankets. This had been happening for months. The visits had come sporadically and always as a welcome surprise. The first time it had happened, Ryutaro had taken too many pills and was sick in bed, feeling much more miserable than he ever had in his entire life. He began to cry, thinking that he would die there in his bed alone and cold without being able to say good bye to Tadashi, talk to Akira or Takashi again, pry Full away from his computer, wonder about the intricate workings of Ao's brain or any more fun things like that. Then suddenly, he felt someone's arms around him, holding him close and whispering in his ear. He wasn't alone as he thought he was. Normally, Ryutaro would freak and run to dial the emergency number but the pills had gotten to him. He instead had curled up into those welcome arms, and looked up into that shadowed hidden face. In the back of his mind, he had wondered how the other man got into his house. He must've used a key because Ryutaro would've heard if he broke in or not. (Years of paranoia had honed his hearing skills better than the average human.) But yet, that raised the question of how the man had gotten the key in the first place. The man had taken care of him, gave him water, calmed him and tucked him back into bed. That was the best night of sleep that Ryutaro had in a long while. And when he woke the next morning, he was alone. There was no sign of the other man, no evidence that he had ever been there in the first place. A few weeks had passed and the man appeared again when Ryutaro was having a bout of insomnia. He had helped cure that, making Ryutaro so exhausted that he had no choice but to sleep. And every night after that, his nightly visitor came. Sometimes they talked, but it was always in whispers as if the other was afraid that if he spoke with his real voice, the fragile night would shatter like candy glass. Ryutaro was dying to hear the other man's real voice, see the other man's face but whenever he asked, he was always denied. Ryutaro had stopped asking because it seemed to upset the other man. The phone rang breaking Ryutaro's train of thought and his head poked out from under the covers to stare at it before he remembered that simply staring at it, didn't stop it from ringing. He slid over, an arm reaching for it and grabbed the reciever. "Moshi moshi?" He said, sleepily. "You're late." "Mm? Late? There's practice today?" There was silence on the other line. Ryutaro gave a sheepish grin. "Never knew you to be this forgetful, Tarochan." "I'm not." "I know you aren't," Tadashi replied, smoothly. "But I know there's something wrong when Akira arrives here before you. Ryutaro, are you feeling well? You've never been this forgetful before." "What day is it?" Ryutaro wondered out loud. "Monday." "Already?" "Yes." "I've seemed to have lost my track of time, Dashi..." Ryutaro murmured, slipping out of bed. As soon as his feet hit the floor, his legs wobbled and he collapsed onto the carpet, acidentally dropping the phone reciever. "Itai..." Oh, he had forgotten about that. Every morning after those nightly visits it took him ten minutes to remember to how to walk again. "Tarochan!!" Tadashi's voice threaded thinly through the air from the reciever. Ryutaro crawled a bit stiffly and painfully over to pick it up. "Tarochan, daijyoubu?" "Hai..." He murmured, a bit dazedly, "Mou daijyoubu desu...ne, Dashi, I'll be there in...twenty minutes okay? I'm very sorry for the trouble." "It's okay, Tarochan. Are you sure you're okay? Make sure you take care of yourself first before you come here and don't rush. I'd rather have you here five hours late than never okay?" "Yes, Dashi." "Good. Ja." "Ja, Dashi." Ryutaro waited for a second before moving slowly to hang up the phone and stood. Alright. He could stand without wobbling. He stared down at his body. Interesting. He could've sworn that he was bare the last time he remembered but someone had placed him in his blue and white tarepanda pajamas. He nibbled on the sleeve, a strange habit that he couldn't seem to break. Curiouser and curiouser. He took a look around the room, doubting that he would find anything this time as he found nothing the other times before shuffling off to the bathroom to take care of a few morning rituals. He took a peek at the bathroom clock. Morning rituals that would soon turn into noon rituals if he wasn't careful. He yawned, eyeing his toothbrush before finally reaching out to take hold of it. He couldn't help but feel a bit guilty at that. Most of it wasn't his fault but still... He applied some toothpaste on his toothbrush before brushing his teeth. It wasn't as if he could say no to his nightly visitor. No didn't appear to be a word in the other man's dictionary. At least when it came to Ryutaro anyway. He had said no once and easily learned never to do it again. Especially when wearing a leather choker--a gift from the other man. But it did teach him a little bit about himself. He kind of liked being punished by him. And even though it wsa a bit embarassing to see Takashi and Akira eyeing him suspiciously because he couldn't sit right on a stool, it felt.... ....kinda good. Alright....a bit more than good. He turned away from the mirror, making a face at himself when he saw that he was blushing. His mind seemed to be only on one thing these days. He began to shuffle around the bathroom, doing a strange type of pacing across the furry bathroom rug to learn how to walk without looking suspicious. He had to keep this quiet from the others. If anyone of them knew what had been happening to him for the past few months, they'd make him move or something. They wouldn't understand that he needed his nightly visitor. And it wasn't just for the obvious reasons either. His cheeks felt like they were on fire. He didn't know how to explain it. He liked this. He liked having a secret--something that could cheer him up whenever he got depressed. He liked being woken in the middle in the night, seduced by warmth and a commanding whisper. Ryutaro paused in his strange shuffle-pacing and spat into the sink before rinsing his mouth free of toothpaste. He did this three times before he was sure his mouth was free of toothpaste before placing his toothbrush away and grabbing a comb. He glanced into the mirror, idly combing his hair before something caught his eye. He leaned in close to the mirror, before his hand fluttered up to the side of his neck. Eep! Evidence! Must...conceal.... Ryutaro stared around his bathroom, looking for something, anything--to cover up the slightly purple bruise at his neck. This had never happened before. What did other people do when they got hickies in the most visible place? With nothing in his bathroom to help him, Ryutaro turned and ran to his closet, ignoring the slight ache he felt as he did so. Something that would cover his neck but won't make the others suspicious. It was late autumn, maybe he could get away with wearing a sweater. He finally snatched out black one and slipped one on and peeked into the mirror. Damn!! It was still visible. Maybe if he wore a scarf? No, no that wouldn't work. He nibbled on his fingernail. He threw the sweater off, hurrying back into his closet. Ah! Yes! A collared shirt and a tie! Thank gods! The bite was low, on the junction between his shoulder and neck. After all, he had a bit of a cracked sense of style, the others were used to it and no one really paid attention to how he dressed--he could get away with this!! He clutched the white shirt to his chest and sighed happily in relief. You're still with me. You're still my secret sweet sweet romance. He pulled the shirt on as well some pants, slipped on the tie before he hurried out of his bedroom to grab his bag and his keys. He locked his door after slipping out of his apartment, hurrying to catch a cab to get to practice. ++ To Part One Dangerous Liaisons Home Fics Home