The first time we met had been so simple. I was one of the few who spoke English well in my grade, and his father had just gotten transferred here from New York. I had noticed how handsome he was from the start of course, as well as noticing that he wasn’t paying any attention to the girls that were fawning over him. Not that that meant anything really but it was nice to wonder. I remember him sliding gracefully into the seat across the isle from mine, sighing in relief when the teacher called the chattering girls to a halt. Tall, slim, muscular, quiet…during class at least as he watched the teacher carefully rather than furiously taking down notes like most of the others. Except me of course, I never took notes. I watched him out of the corner of my eye all though class. Guessing him to be about my height, slimmer than me…definitely less used to hard work. Blond hair, green eyes, slightly stubborn chin, perfect mouth…I really wasn’t paying any attention to the teacher by then. His hands lay on his desk, one idle the other carelessly fooling with a pencil. Beautiful hands… don’t ask; it’s my personal kink…or fetish if you prefer. His green gaze swept sideways for a minute, right towards me, and he smiled. Of course I smiled back. Ryourin Shu, Shu Ryourin as Americans would say, the toughest guy in school, did not drool over other guys like some schoolgirl. That was my principle I set up when I first realized I was attracted to other guys. I merely admired, and sometimes played the predator if I felt I had the chance. His idle hand went up to finger a pendant that hung on a strip of leather around his neck. For a second I wondered if it was a cross. Most boys didn’t wear jewelry…I kept my small axe pendant hidden both under my shirt and my undershirt. Then I realized it was merely a small series of stones, not in any particular formation that I could see. He wore it as if to flaunt it, smiling as he rubbed his fingers over its smooth surface.

Finally class was over and I slid out of my seat, hoisting my backpack over one shoulder. He stood too.

"I…I saw you… watching me." He murmured in fractured Japanese. Stuttering not because he was nervous…I could tell he wasn’t from his tone, but because he didn’t know the language well.

"I speak English." I told him, smiling.

"Oh thank god." He let out a hearty laugh. "God, if you knew what it’s been like the past few days…" he chuckled. "My Japanese sucks."

I nodded. "Yes, it does." We walked out of class together.

"How long ya been here?" I asked him. He smirked.

"A week."

"I’m surprised you know any Japanese."

"I…a friend of mine made me watch anime."

I nodded again…the only way most Americans learn what they call Japanese…our cartoons. "What a surprise."

"You mock me."

I laughed at his mock formal tone. Quietly happy with myself until… "Shu-kun!" A flying girl hit me in the chest. I stepped back from the bobbing pigtails. Thugs I could handle, armed Mafia men, and goons from the top…even crazy magicians but…god, not her.

"Shu-kun." She giggled. "Who’s the hunk?" I realized I don’t know his name, despite the fact he seemed to be laughing rather hard at my predicament.

"J-Jason Stoker." He gasped. Apparently he could translate Japanese better than he could speak it, a rare thing.

"Sto-kel?" The girl…Mitsumi Kitaru (Kitaru) asked.

"Jason." I told her, switching into Japanese. "He’s American."

"Ooooh!" Her English turned out to be possibly more fractured than his Japanese. "American. Wonderful."

"Sure." He smiled at her. It looked rather forced. Finally she saw a friend and scampered off. I sighed in relief.

"Girlfriend?" Jason teased.

I snorted. "Ch’. God, no."

"That sounds rather violent." He mused; there was a highly mischievous light in those green eyes. "Don’t like girls much do you…"

"Ryourin Shu." I said automatically then started to correct myself. "S…"

"I know." He told me. "Can I call you Shu?"

"If ya like."

"I like."

"Bram Stoker!" I exclaimed, remembering what his name reminded me of.

"No, no relation." Jason was almost growling.
"Sorry." I held up my hands in mock surrender and he smiled at me.

"That’s ok."

He stopped at a locker and chucked half the contents of his backpack in it. Then pulled out a large, familiar looking case.

"Guitar?" I asked. He nodded. He was holding the case as if it were a holy relic.

"Know somewhere where I can play it?" He asked.

"Sure." I laughed at his hesitance. "My place."

The afternoon that ensued was positively delightful. I know that makes me sound like a total sap, but it’s the best way I can put it. It turned out that not only could he play the guitar, but he could sing as well, and he managed to appease my parents with a few classical pieces along with the newer ones. He looked just glorious as he played. His blond hair falling over his face, fingers flying over the keys, eyes slitted or shut in concentration. I took advantage of his unaware state to study him more, watching his lips move as he sung and his fingers dancing over the strings. Imagining, I must admit, what they’d feel like skimming over me.

"You were watching me again." He accused me good-naturedly when he had finished the song. I merely shrugged.

"You would too if you could see how you look."

He chuckled slightly. "So I assume I was right."

"About what?" I already had a guess.

"You not being interested in girls." He replied. "Boys?"

I merely nodded. It wasn’t something I ever tried to hide; I merely didn’t broadcast it, especially around my family. People usually didn’t guess though. I was too much of a testosterone driven punk.

"Why so interested?" I asked.

"Oh no reason," Was his innocent reply. "No reason at all." It occurred to me then that I probably had a chance…if I wanted to take it.

The next time I brought him home my father was home as well. He smiled broadly when I introduced Jason.

"Pleased to meet you," he said in flawless English, then turned to me and switched to Japanese. "You know, Shu, if you keep bringing these pretty boys (bishonen) home I’ll start thinking you’re not interested in girls. Isn’t it time you brought some girls home?"

I hadn’t known whether to laugh or blush; as it was I bowed and led Jason to my room. He fell down laughing the minute we got there, hitting the floor so hard that I was rather glad I was carrying his guitar.

"What?" I snapped playfully.

"I…I thought you said you didn’t try an’ hide it?" He gasped, clutching his stomach.

"Ok," I sighed. "Except to my family, especially my father."

"Aa." He sat up and reached for his guitar. I handed it to him and he began to play I sat there in front of him, watching.

"You like to watch me, don’t you?" He murmured, not bothering to look up.

"Yes." I didn’t bother to deny it. He certainly didn’t seem to mind.

"Ever thought you might want to pay attention to the teacher in class."

"Nah," I shrugged. "Never have, probably never will."

"I’m flattered." He said, and his green eyes flickered up to look at me.

"Mmmm."

He went back to his playing and I started watching more avidly than before. We had been flirting constantly, but this was a bit farther. With a smirk I climbed up behind him where he sat on my bed and wrapped my arms around him, careful not to hinder his playing. His music faltered, however, when I ever so lightly kissed the back of his neck.

"Are you going to give me a real kiss or not?" He demanded, squirming in my arms to face me. I shrugged, knowing that the grin on my face had turned fully predatorial I closed in on him.

He was sweet, that’s all I can say without getting sickly romantic about it. I had no intention of keeping the kiss chaste; he didn’t seem to either. I barely took us a second to get into each other’s mouths. He was just as fiery as I was something I was coming to appreciate. He didn’t let go of the guitar the whole time I was kissing him. Finally I pulled back and ran a thumb over lips that were slightly swollen from the force of my kiss.

"Is your guitar more important than me?" I teased. He smiled.

"I didn’t want to drop it," he said, placing it delicately on the bed before turning to wrap his arms around my neck. "Now, can we try that again?" This time it was his mouth that closed over mine. I could tell he had done it before, the way his stroking fingers hit all the sensitive points on my neck, sending shivers of pleasure through me. He hummed slightly into my mouth, making me moan.

That’s what we spent our afternoon doing. As Jason so aptly put it…’It still really isn’t right to give it up on the first date, especially if it isn’t even the first real date.’ So I asked him to the movies with me that Friday and Saturday and…you get the picture. It was a week from that first Saturday that lent itself to the passion that is now permeated into the ground I lie on.

We were out at yet another movie. At the rate we were going we would see every movie in every theatre by the end of the month. It wasn’t helping that he could do his homework in fifteen minutes flat, and I never did mine so we went out on weekdays too. But, as it was it was twenty minutes into a very slow movie I had my arm around his shoulders and he was leaning rather enticingly into me. I found my self extremely thankful we were in the back row.

"Boring," Jason declared, letting his hand trail down my thigh.

"Not a good idea." I warned him, resting my hand on top of his.

"You think I care?" He murmured, his hand flicking minutely upward. "I’m no virgin."

"You’re not?" I chuckled, not too surprised. "Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

"Good, I think."

"Glad to hear it." I let out a soft gasp. His hand had slipped down to tease me through my pants.

"Jason…"

"Mmmm?"

"Ya wanna get outta here?"

"Sure."

We stood and exited the theater, my hand coming to rest casually on this ass as my mind raced through places to take him. Eventually I settled on back home, seeing as everyone was out, and it certainly didn’t cost anything.

I was about to lead him up to my room when his hand in mine pulled me back.

"Let’s stay out here," he suggested with a grin. I turned to him in surprise, but his smile was genuine. "It’s too nice a day to waste inside," he told me. I shrugged and wandered off into the garden, pulling him to walk beside me so that my hand rested possessively on his rear, something I hadn’t allowed myself while we were walking downtown. I fully admit to being a jealous bastard, and I had seen some of the looks people had shot my handsome American. Now there was merely the step of proving this ‘ownership’ to him. He chuckled, his arm around my waist tightening so that he could run the very tips of his fingers over the edge of the bulge in my pants.

"Thinking about something?" He teased. I grinned down at him. We had reached the spot I had been looking for. Dry ground surrounded by high, deep green grass.

"I dunno, am I?"

"If you are I should hope it’s me. I should hate to have my place in your fantasies usurped by some girl."

"How do you know you had a place in my fantasies to begin with?" I teased back.

"Wishful thinking?" He shrugged, dragging me down for a kiss.

"There aren’t that many cute girls…or boys at school."

"And the slight fact that you get hard just looking at me."

"Maybe I’m imagining someone else."

"It’s possible," Jason smirked. "But I have some faith in my own looks. ‘Sides, if it was anyone else it would be them you were planning on screwing, not me."

"You know me too well."

He shrugged again. "That may be. Now, are you going to fuck me or not?"

"Well, if you put it that way…" My hand that still rested on his ass tightened. "You’re a tease, Jason Stoker."

He grinned, a silly lopsided thing that made me want to kiss it off him (among other, interesting things). "You have no idea," he murmured.

I didn’t.

"Goddamnit! Jason!" I was relieved that no one was home, at least I would have been if I had been aware enough to be relieved. I’m sure my bellow reached the house. As it was he smirked up at me, his mouth mere centimeters from my burning erection.

"Yesss?" God, he was too sexy when he purred.

I gave up; he was getting way too good at getting me to loose control. With a low growl I flipped him onto his back beneath me. Those green eyes stared up at me insolently.

"And just what do you think you’re gonna use for lube?" He asked. I groaned. I knew there was a reason we should have gone to my room. His grin widened at my discomfort and he let me squirm for another minute before reaching for his carelessly thrown jeans and pulling something out of the pocket. I reached for it, but he held it out of my reach, and I was unwilling to move too much, not wanting to loose my advantage. "Ask," he purred.

"Goddamnit, Jason. Give me the fucking lube or I’ll take you dry!"

Jason shook his head. "I wouldn’t call that asking, Koi." His free hand trailed down my chest. "Try again."

"I mean it, Stoker!"

"You do, do you? Then why aren’t you doing anything?"

‘Great, an aggressive bottom.’ I was turned on all the more by it though. "You little fuck, give it!"

"Please."

"Fuck you."

"Not if you don’t ask."

"Fine," I ground out. "Please?"

He smiled at me, bringing his hand back in reach. "Wasn’t too hard, was it?"

"Little bastard."

"I know who my parents are. My master on the other hand…"

"Hentai," I accused fondly.

"You damn well know it," he purred, slipping his legs open around mine. "Ya gonna do something about it?"

"Fuck yes." I covered his lips in a heated kiss, stilling that teasing voice momentarily. But his hips still moved just as teasingly against mine. I let go of him for a moment to unscrew the lid and place the small container on the ground beside us.

"Lip balm?" I asked, teasing slightly. He shrugged.

"What can I say? It works."

"Mmmm, most anything will."

"Yesss…" his breath came out in a hiss as I slid one finger in, stretching him.

"And what was that in reference to?" I murmured, brushing light kisses over his stomach.

"Don’ matter."

"Mmmm." I removed my fingers and repositioned myself between his legs.

"Just do it, Shu!"

I grinned at his glazed green eyes, rather pleased that he had lost some, if not most of his own control, and slid slowly into him. He hissed.

"You move too fucking slow." He snapped, slamming his hips upward, burying me in him.

"Love you too." I tease softly, pulling nearly all the way out before slamming back in.

"It won’t be a ‘too’ unless you get moving a hell of a lot faster," he hisses, arcing against me as I thrust. I merely shrugged; the muscles in his ass were flexing too interestingly around me for me to think much past simple gestures. Then he dragged me down into a kiss, bucking his hips up against me, leaving me gasping and incapable of thinking past pounding into him like a madman. A tiny, all right, miniscule part of my brain (a.k.a. the only few cells still working) wanted to rush to orgasm so that I could get my brain back enough to bitch at him. But that was soon drowned out by the blood rushing in my ears and the wild cries escaping Jason’s perfect lips. I kissed him again, not slowing my pace but muffling our cries. I reached down to stroke him, making him arc further off the ground forcing me further into him and sending me over the edge, causing me to leave bite marks on his neck in a vain attempt to keep quiet. There was a rush or warm wetness between our stomachs, and his teeth buried in my neck and we collapsed nearly unconscious on the ground. After a few minutes…or possibly an hour he rolls over to face me.

"Not bad." His voice is still that near aggravating purr. I face him straight on.

"Not bad?" I know my voice is rumbling in my chest, threatening to become a bellow if I had had more energy. He laughs, pulling me down for another kiss.

"Ok, great." He seems to recover a hell of a lot faster than I do, but I’m still willing to bet he’ll walk a bit funny. He pulls me over for a kiss. "I like powerful men, turns me on."

"What if I don’t like pushy bottoms." I tease, my mouth resting against his.

"I’d accuse you of lying." He smirked and I returned the expression.

"And you’d be right." I looked down at my self then over at him. We were sweaty and sticky and…

"Perhaps we should go get cleaned up?" He giggles, green eyes sparkling.

"Perhaps." I grin at him. "And perhaps we should do it before people get home.

He nods and looks around at the clothes strewn about our little nest. "We should clean em up" He sighs reluctantly. I nod in agreement, carefully untangling me from him and holding a hand out to help him up.

"I’ll carry the clothes if you’ll carry me." He suggests. I merely nod, letting him scoop up the clothes before scooping him up and carrying him into the house.