Various One Shots - 1. My Cousin and I

The first time I noticed him was when we were both 12 and were on the cusp of puberty. We were living in Italy, outside of a small city when I first noticed how his eyes were such of a light color, almost a caramelized honey, or the whiskey color that he was named after. They were so expressive and full of love when he laid them on me. It was always so amazing to me, seeing those eyes look at me like that.

The next thing that I noticed about Whiskey was his hair. We were 13 and both starting puberty, while dealing with things in our lives that we shouldn’t have to have dealt with. His father was after him and his mother, well my mother was after me, and it put sadness deep into both of our eyes, dulling the color and the happiness that we once felt. But it never dulled his hair. After his eyes darkened and lost the light, his hair caught my attention. Even then it was so long and beautiful, this wonderful dark mahogany color becoming a rich red wood color under the sunlight to. It was so beautiful and I wanted to touch it so much. And I got to, often. He told me that he loved the way my hands felt running through those long strands.

But then, he also loves to play with my oddly colored hair. It’s such an odd shade of purple, and it shines different colors in various lights. Our grandfather tells me that my hair is the perfect balance between my deceased fathers dark purple hair and my mothers blond hair. I call it odd and I wonder why people are so interested in it. Whiskey especially. But, I’m off topic.

By the time we were about to turn 14, I noticed how his skin was such an interesting color. I would say it’s a toffee color, and I know that it covers his entire body, so it’s not because he goes outside all the time. I wonder if his skin was soft. It looked soft, and delicious, and I wanted to find out so badly, I took to sucking on toffee or hard caramel pieces “to restrain myself”. It got to be so bad at one point, I just couldn’t look at him while he was in anything that didn’t cover his skin completely.

That was also about the time I took notice of his body. Like most males at that age, we were both gangly and long in limb. But, he somehow made it seem graceful. I think it was his gymnastics training that helped him on top of the weapons training that we’ve both been a part of for so long. I was still awkward at that time though and it was…embarrassing to be compared to my cousin and found lacking by most of the other boys of our school, especially the older ones, who look at Whiskey with what I’ve since discovered was lust.

Soon after we turned 14, Whiskey and his mother moved to the United States permanently. I found out that it was to get away from the memories that haunted the both of them. We received a letter from them every week and they called us ever couple of days to check up on us, still it wasn’t the same as seeing them in person. The next couple of years, were the hardest on us, I think. Only ever being able to see Whiskey and my aunt Alexandra for a few days during Christmas vacation or during the summer vacation was hard on me. And then, Aunt Alexandra got sick soon after Whiskey’s 15th and wasn’t able to travel to us. That Christmas, we weren’t able to go to them due to a big storm that stranded us on our land. I nearly went crazy while trapped there. We had lost the phone lines so we weren’t able to call him or Aunt Alexandra. We were very lucky to have our internet connection and cable though, so I was able to chat with Whiskey. It just wasn’t the same though.

Soon after New Years, Aunt Alexandra died in her sleep. We missed the funeral since we were still snowed in. It hurts to think that I wasn’t able to be there for Whiskey in his time of need. He had his half brother, Michael, or as he preferred to be called, Ichigo, and Ichigos lover, Alex, there for him, which I was very grateful for. It still wounded my heart to not be there for him. The moment we were able to go, our grandfather, Michael, our grandfathers’ lover and I took the business jet and went to the U.S.

Whiskeys eyes were dull again, losing their sheen and brightness. We were 15 and that year was the hardest on both of us, since we weren’t as close as we used to be. He threw himself in working at Ichigos tea shop, The Tea Time. He created a new clothing line with Michael, creating a new make up line that was huge and encompassed many different shades and hues and going to school on top of breaking into the world of art. It was surprising to say the least that he was able to do all that. Myself, I set about opening my herbal shop and passing my classes, not used to the American school system, since I decided to stay near him. Being so far away from my best friend and cousin was hard to do once, but it would be heart breaking to do it again.

During that year, we both had boyfriends, having discovered that we had a thing for males, much like our grandfather and Ichigo. Whiskey also discovered that he enjoyed cross-dressing on occasion, mostly with kimonos. I suppose that the Geisha training that he was bribed into taking helped him with that. I also found out that my cousin was amazingly gorgeous and he aroused my feelings and my lust for him once more.

But at the time, we both had boyfriends, and so I put those feelings aside. My relationship ended with us not being able to stay together, since I loved another, and so did he. Or so he told me. No matter how much I would have liked to have had sex with him, it just didn’t feel right for me. He understood, but it didn’t help our relationship either.

Whiskeys relationship was going strong though. I threw myself into my school work and my herbal shop, trying to forget the pain in my heart at seeing my beautiful cousin kiss another, touch another and smile lovingly at another. It didn’t work so well, but it soothed my heart, or as much as it was able to.

We grew close again, and the happiness that I had thought was gone, came back to his eyes again. His hair by then was past his butt, but kept in a braid, while my own hair was brushing the back of knees and kept in a low ponytail with some of it hanging down the sides of my face. His eyes have also become a darker color. More of the color of properly aged whiskey, instead of the lighter honey whiskey color they were. My own eyes went from the odd shade of purple they once were to an ever odder shad of red-violet. Whiskey once told me that my eyes were gorgeous and went perfectly with my dark lavender hair and the way I kept it.

By that time, we were almost out of school, and our businesses were taking off. Whiskey was selling his paintings left and right, while finishing Aunt Alexandra’s last manga. My herb store was very popular, since not only did I carry fresh and dried herbs, I also carried candles, incense, oils, shampoos, conditioners and soaps, all of them naturally made. Whiskey comes in often to buy candles, incenses, and oils from me, telling me that he liked the soft scents they leave.

He and his boyfriend broke up a few months after I did, about the start of our senior year. When I asked him about it, Whiskey just waved it off saying that it wasn’t important. That it was a mutual break up and no hard feelings was left between the two. I’ve noticed that Whiskeys ex had an eye on my ex, and I can’t help but snicker, knowing my ex would pounce on him the moment that he realized that Whiskeys ex was interested. I can’t help but feel jealous of them though. They could have their love, where I couldn’t, no matter how much I wanted it to. It hurts so much.

But, all that changed one night. We were in Italy for a long overdue vacation and had just gone to our usual club for a night of fun with some old friends. We had teased and enticed, but hadn’t gone though, moving away from various people if they got too close. We never did dance with others all that often and our friends accepted that fact.

We also teased each other, but didn’t realize it until later. I know that whenever I looked over at him, he was staring at me over someones shoulder, or over his own as he danced away from someone caused me to flush and react by grinding back into the person behind me.

I never knew that he could and would ever want me. After I had left the dance floor, feeling hot in my outfit of tailor-made jeans and my long sleeved shirt that barely reached my belly button, leaving a sliver of skin showing, along with my tattoo on my lower back, I had wandered over to the bar finally. I was loving being 18 and in Italy. They had a much looser law on alcohol and drinking ages. Sitting on one of the silver and red leather bar stools, I ordered first water, then a double whiskey on the rocks.

Drinking my water quickly, I then lean against the bar and watch Whiskey dance, as I drink the whiskey in my cup. I couldn’t help but let a very naughty smirk cross my lips at my bad thoughts. I really shouldn’t have thought of Whiskey in such a way, but I was, and I had enough alcohol in my system to get away with blaming my thoughts on it, so I let my mind run free with it.

I could imagine what he had in those sinfully tight pants of his. They were just jeans that he had taken in so that they fitted like a second skin, showing off his entire lower half. Some people said that they were so tight you could tell his religion, and you know what? Those people were right. It made me drool and apparently half the male population too.

Then there was that shirt of his. It was just as short as mine, but tighter and with no sleeves. In place of sleeves he had these long, sheer arm warmers of the same color that hooked around his thumbs and rested over his knuckles. The shirt and arm decorations were both a bloody red and looked good against his toffee colored skin that he had gotten while plucking fruit with me, grandfather and Michael this summer.

If I was to describe him in one word, I would have to use yummy. The reasons why were so many it was hard to count. The way his hair swayed around him from its high ponytail, catching the lights of the club and shining so richly. The way his eyes were closed as his body swayed to the music, his arms up in the air, his hands closed in loose fists. His hips swaying back and forth, moving his entire body made you think of liquid sex. Or at least it did to me.

Sipping my whiskey, I continue to watch my gorgeous cousin and wonder if I would ever find someone who could compare to him. Before I decided that I could never find anyone like him. I wanted Whiskey with a passion I had only ever shown for my herbs and recipes. He was one of a kind and I didn’t want another. It nearly frightened me when I first realized it so many years ago, but now, as I listen to Full Blown Rose’s “In the Light” and watching my cousin seduce half of the club, it doesn’t bother me. It’s now warm and comforting to me and I wouldn’t trade it for the world.

Some more time passes, both me and Whiskey going back and forth from the bar to the dance floor and back again. Drinking, laughing and dancing, seducing the room with our movements and the subtly rising sexual energy between us, we have fun and get bolder with our moves. Soon, we are in a cab heading to our grandfather’s plantation, just talking about little things, catching up on each others lives. I found out Whiskey had a show in New York and then Milan for his Yaoi Collection. I wished him the best of luck.

After being dropped off in front of the house, I stand there, looking first up at the building that we called home, and then the full moon before turning to Whiskey who was looking at me with curiosity in his clover honey colored eyes.

“Let’s…take a walk around for a little while. I need some fresh air,” I say softly in the quite, warm night air. Smiling, he nods.

“Sure, Wine-chan, let’s do that,” he says, getting away with calling me the shortened version on my name. He, our grandfather and Michael are really the only ones who can get away with calling me Wine. My grandmother started it, even though I really don’t remember all that much of her, having lost her when Whiskey and I were really young. But, again I get off subject.

Starting away from the house, we head towards a small path that lead to the woods that surrounded our house, our footsteps barely making any sound in the quiet of the night. Listening to the crickets chirp around us, our soft footsteps on the grass or twigs as we slowly moved deeper into the forest, I look around us and smile. So many wonderful memories surrounded this land. I grew up here after my father died in the accident that took him away from this family. But…that was so long ago.

Looking in front of me, I notice that we walked to our pond. Whiskey owned a piece of land, so did I. But his was the most beautiful with a pond and waterfall, surrounded by many, many flowers. It was beautiful and we loved the area. We had many more memories here than with the rest of the land. We would play and dance. This was where I got my first scar, having fallen down and hurting my hand, creating that tiny scar on my finger.

It’s funny, in its own way. We also shared our first kiss here. It was before Whiskey moved to the Americas. We were saying goodbyes, tears streaming down our faces as we hugged each other tightly. I doubt either of us were expecting to kiss, but as being the shortest of us, and being pressed so close to his deceptively slim body, as my head came up, our lips brushed gently. Instead of pulling back we leaned forward and pressed our lips together. It was…sweet and simple. It was wonderful and deep. It made me finally accept my love for my wonderful cousin.

It also was the most bittersweet moment. We never talked about it after that. I couldn’t and wouldn’t as long as Whiskey acted like it never happened, or at least never talked about it. But…now as I walk up to the pond, and kneel down, I can feel his eyes scan over my body. I can’t help…but wonder what he is seeing when he looks at me. Does he see me as who I was when I was younger? All skin and bones and scrawny as hell? Or does he see me for who I am now? As a fit young man who keeps in shape with the various fighting styles that we were both taught? What does he see, I wanted to ask. But…I didn’t. I couldn’t, not then, not yet. Instead I turn to him and smile brightly.

“Lets take a dip,” I say softly to him, my voice cutting through the night, silencing the crickets for a few moments before they start up again. He nods and smiles in return.

“Yeah, sounds good to me,” he says before he starts to strip off his clothing. Looking away and blushing I slide off my own clothes, having to wiggle a bit to get out of my pants. Folding them up and putting them aside, I turn to him and blush again.

He looked so good under the moonlight. His skin became creamier under the moonlight, making me think of my favorite ice cream topping when it was warm. I turn my head away but I can’t help but look at his body, trying to memorize it for my fantasies. He was toned, like I expected him to be, but that was because of the gymnastics and fighting practices he still kept up with. What I didn’t expect was how big his member actually was. He was at least an inch longer than me, and he wasn’t even hard.

Looking away quickly, I slide into the water slowly and sigh in pleasure at the warmth that I was surrounded with. Stepping away from the bank, I start to swim around, my hair floating out behind me. I hear a splash and feel the gentle waves that Whiskey’s entry caused lap at my body. I keep swimming though, until I was in the middle of the pond, where I turn towards him and smile, his own hair floating after him. Apparently he had let his hair down. I wasn’t complaining though. I loved it when his hair was down.

He slowly swims up to me and asks me something that made me gape at him like a fish on a bed of ice.

“Why haven’t you ever gotten laid?” he says, breaking into the normal night sounds. I tread water for several moments before I finally answer.

“Because I never really found someone who was worth it, much less someone who I could compare to the one I love. Sure I dated, but I never wanted him. Don’t really know why,” slips past my lips without my meaning to. I seem to be doing that a lot, just blurting things out. But Whiskey just takes it in stride and smiles.

“So, who do you love?” he asks, as he swims around me. I could have sworn that his hand had brushed my ass, but that must have been my imagination. Looking over my shoulder, I look at him and try to think of how I could get out of admitting that I loved him. Shaking my head I swim towards a few boulders that ringed the pond, buying myself time. I can feel him smirk at my back as I swim away.

Pulling myself up onto the boulder, I look down at him, even if he isn’t that far away, as he leans against the boulder, his feet planted on a rock under the water. ‘Yep, there’s the smirk,’ I think to myself, rolling my eyes at the fact that my cousin could be so predictable at times.

“I bet I know who you love,” he purrs softly. I blink and look down at him with widening eyes before I shift slightly, hoping he really didn’t know about my love for him. Biting my lip, I tilt my head to the side, my hair moving slowly with the action. Sighing I ask, I close my eyes before opening them and looking at him.

“Then who is it?” I ask him, trying hard to keep the waver out of my voice. Smirking even more, he nods. “So, tell me, oh great and wondrous one.”

“You love,” he starts before pausing. I can tell he’s teasing me with this and that he enjoys the pouting glare that I throw at him. “Me.”

He did know about my love for him. Looking away, I bite my lip, holding back the tears that wanted to fall from my eyes. I jerk when I feel him taking my chin into his hand and tilts it towards his face in a gentle move.

“Don’t be ashamed, cara,” he purrs softly as he looks into my eyes. Suddenly he turns to Italian, a language I haven’t heard in so long from him. “Ti amo, il mio cugino. So che non dovrei amarlo in tale maniera, ma faccio.” I gasp softly before the shock on my face, melts into a soft smile. I respond in kind, using the words that I have wanted to say for so long.

“Ti amo a. Li ho amati per tanto tempo, il mio whisky meraviglioso,” I says softly, causing his eyes to shine brightly down at me. I smile as I fall for him all over again.

The first time I noticed him, I noticed his eyes. After some time they had lost that light that made them caramelized honey. I put that light back into them with my words, and I will continue to do so.

We shared our second kiss there, my hands buried in his hair as his were in mine. He knew how to kiss better, but I learned quickly that night. I learned many, many things that night. I learned that Whiskey was a skilled lover who could make me scream in various octaves. I also learned that night that my obsession with his eyes never did die out. It just went into hibernation.

I also learned that I seem to be a natural in quite a few things. Apparently all those suckers and popsicles came in handy after all.