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OK, it's been a long time since I used this forum, but here goes. This is the first little bit of something I've been mulling over, and which the lovely Reader1810 has also been mulling over with me (with infinitely more editing skill than I, it must be said). Are we intrigued? I have: 1) no idea where this is going 2) no name the for the main character, and I’m not totally sure he's ever going to get one 3) no planning of any sort 4) no clue where this idea came from, or when my brain thinks I'll have the spare time to write it. _____________________________________________________________________________________________ BAD The realisation that Kai Fischer isn’t the good golden boy everyone else thinks he is hits me one Thursday afternoon as I’m taking a piss. I’m just finishing up in a cubicle when I hear the door bang open, trainers squeak on the floor, and half of a very tense conversation. “Yes… yes I know. Of course I’m trying!” Whoever it is sounds like someone trying very hard not to punch the wall. “Sorry Father, I’ll work harder. Yes. Yes OK. But-!” Another pause, this one silent. “Yes Sir. Goodbye.” Just as I’m about to zip up and flush, the near silence is broken again. “FUCK!” There is the sound of something I guess is a rather expensive mobile phone being hurled across the room, smashing against the tiles. “FUCK! AHHH! Useless fucking shitting hell!” I turn, tuck myself into my jeans and open the door to see Kai Fischer. Everyone’s favourite everything is standing in what he clearly thought was an empty bathroom, glaring at the remnants of a brand new iPhone. I could never afford one, even on credit; but already, I know he’ll have a replacement by the morning. His whole body snaps towards me as I appear, lounging against the doorjamb with a small grin. Kai Fischer is always the model of control and poise, elegance, grace, maturity, and consideration. But apparently, not always…. “Well, well, so you do have a shadow after all.” His blue eyes are hard and narrow, lips pressed tightly firm. I doubt he’s going to say anything to me. “I wonder what your fan club will say when they find out you’re not actually a demi-god, and you have a temper like us mere mortals.” “It’s none of your business.” His voice is terse and sharp, not at all like the smiling, laughing, uber-polite young man I sometimes see across the quad. I cross to the sinks silently, still watching him as I wash my hands before running damp fingers through my fringe. My hair isn’t what you’d call ‘styled’ but as long as it doesn’t get in the way when I’m working, I don’t care. Good hair doesn’t make up for never having any money, and getting dates with hot girls isn’t really high up on my list of priorities. I’d rather make rent and get my rocks off after a fight with whoever happens to be there. Kai is still watching me watching him, his eyes flashing with bottled in fury, one hand clenched around the porcelain sink. His knuckles are white. “Will you stop fucking looking at me?” “Nope.” I stand, and turn towards him, hooking my thumbs into my pockets. “After all, once you leave here, you’ll probably go back to being the perfect golden boy everyone else thinks you are.” Kai shoots me a look, which might make a lesser man wither in his boots. “And what’s wrong with being seen as nice to everyone?” he snaps. I take a step closer to him, our bodies inches away from each other. Suddenly I can smell him, a clean smooth scent like I’d imagine fresh laundry to be; like the sort you see in adverts where everything is super white and a pretty woman wafts a bed-sheet in the summer shine. The scent makes me dizzy in the back of my mind, and I want to move away, but I refuse to appear weak in front of him. “Because it’s a lie.” “Oh, because you’re so well known for being honourable?” Kai arches a perfectly maintained eyebrow at me. “What is it you do exactly besides skip classes and get wasted?” I’m not sure what makes me do it; maybe it’s his body heat radiating against me, or how neat and perfectly put together he looks, or the hard anger in his eyes which looks so out of place; whatever it is, I don’t think about it, I just grab the front of his shirt, yank him forwards so our chests meet with a dull thud and kiss him. I’m taller, fractionally, but he still had to have angled his face up to meet mine, our lips landing on each other so perfectly. I’ve never wanted to kiss another guy before, never been tempted to experiment, but Kai’s lips are soft as he opens up for my tongue, his body firm, and when his hand presses tight over my crotch, I can feel that he’s strong. He’s a man after all, and I try to move away, but Kai squeezes me and my body responds. Whatever else Kai Fischer is famous for, it should be his dexterity. Before I can even form a thought, he’s got my fly open, his hand in my boxers, and his fingers wrapped around my cock. I gasp sharply into his mouth, and Kai gives a little purr of satisfaction as he touches me. I break the kiss, and find Kai’s blue eyes inches away still watching me as he jacks me off. His gaze is possessive, powerful, complicated, and all consuming. I can’t look away and I don’t want to. I find my fingers running through his perfectly coiffed hair, he almost snarls as I grip the silky strands tightly. The fact that I didn’t jerk off this morning has nothing to do with it: Kai is as gifted at the art of hand jobs as he is at pretending to be Mr. Perfect in front of the rest of the world. His fan-girls would faint if they had any idea what he was doing to me in a third floor bathroom. “Are you close?” Kai’s voice is barely above a whisper, his lips brushing mine as he speaks. “Do you want to come?” “Unghh….” I don’t ever remember feeling so warm, so close to ecstasy, not even whilst fucking, not even during a fight. Kai is pressing every single button I didn’t even know I had.
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