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Copyrights: These characters are ours. Don’t steal lest we eat your spleen..  Kastor is Kage’s © property.. and Irala is © to Kuriyamimizu.. all rights reserved.. 2002

Comments: um.. I don’t even think we know what we’re doing yet ^^: give us a second and forgive a lack of plot… this shall be fluffy and good and because Kuri is a bit of a drama queen there shall be ANGST  ^^ But lots of fuzzy stuff too ^^ Yeah n’ stuff and yeah.

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 The sun shone brightly upon the world of cuidad, bathing the tall buildings with the glow of reflecting rays.  Down below, the citizens walked swiftly, rushing from their homes to their work places, starting yet another day.

 Another mundane, pointless day…  A young man sat quietly, staring out into the city below him.  This apartment was said to have one of the greatest views of the city, but truly it did nothing for him.  It was yet another place full of people.  A place he’d have to work to get adjusted to.

 “Kaster?”

 Sighing, the eighteen-year-old turned.  “I’m here mother.”  Jerking his head to the side, he flung his brown tresses back away from his eyes.  “Did you need something?”

 Mellisa gazed at him worriedly, searching his face with her all-knowing eyes.  “No, I don’t need anything.  I think you, however, may.  You’ve been gazing out that window for days now, son.  You need to go out and do something.  I hate seeing so unhappy.”

 Snorting softly, Kaster leaned against the window, looking back at her with his piercing Hazel eyes.  “I never said I was unhappy.  Even if I was, I doubt ‘going out and doing something’ would alleviate the emotion.”

 Smirking slightly, his mother walked up to him, and rested her hand on his shoulder.  “Now, you’re just being stubborn.  You know very well that I can sense these things, and I hardly see how staying here would help you any either.”  Cocking her head slightly, she continued, “Socializing won’t kill you, I promise.”

 Kaster smirked, “You say that now…I’m sure some deaths are caused by socializing.  Or at least socializing with the wrong crowds.”

 “You’re a big boy.  I trust you can take care of yourself, or are you saying that you need me to protect you from now on?"

 “… point taken.  I’ll see you later.”

 The woman smiled as she watched her son walk out of the large apartment.  “About time…” she stated smirking.  The man, no, the young man had been sullen and quiet ever since he had arrived.  Automatically, Mellisa knew that she would have to do something about this, and help her son live once again.  Kaster hadn’t been the same ever since his father and grandfather were murdered, and it was now this mother’s mission to bring her son’s spirit back.

 The cafe a cute; was small, comfortably crowded and dim. Tables were spread liberally over a decent amount of floor space. Patrons of all shapes and sizes sat at the tables or along the walls on the couches and mismatched chairs that had been put there for the purpose of giving comfortable seating. Candles glittered on the tabletops. Somewhere in the midst of that entire atmosphere, the sound of a violin could be heard, sharp and soulful. The player stood, his dark eyes closed as he caressed a song out of his instrument. His black and curly hair was pulled back into a ponytail, keeping it out of his eyes. Still a few stubborn strands fell forward and into his face; to these he paid no mind. Just between his eyes a little black dot was tattooed; it added character to his face. His skin was a deep mocha color, soft and well cared for. That particular evening he had dressed in a large black sweatshirt, under that he wore a red shirt patterned with crimson velvet. Around his hips there was a light silver chain, it was hooked with care through the belt-loops of a pair of black pants that hung comfortably on him. His fingers were slim and graceful, delicate in the way that they held the bow for his violin.

 Coming to the end of the song the musician opened his eyes and peered into the café, smiling at the small amount of applause that he had garnered from his efforts. That was the only reason that he played, because people seemed to enjoy it. Going over to a table that was bare of people he laid his instrument carefully into its case and he sipped his coffee, his chocolate eyes scanning the room.

 Someone new came in. Looking rather lost and bemused at that. The man looked to be a new-adult.

Eighteen...

he guessed quietly to himself. Perhaps he would have a chance to ask the man. He was fairly tall, about five feet, getting up there toward six. It wouldn’t surprise him if the man were six foot even. It didn’t matter in the end. The new patron had straight hair that fell about his eyes and was shorter toward the back. His eyes were quite interesting, stormy and troubled and beautiful all at the same time with their hue of a very particular shade of green.

Reminds me of the sea…

 Smiling Irala watched this newcomer, silently wishing that he would come over and say hello. There was no reason why the man ought to do something like that, but there was no reason that he should not wish.

 Kaster blinked as he entered, feeling eyes resting on him. The usual glances from people curious about a new arrival to the shop he gave no second thought to. Yet someone in the room was staring at him, he could feel it like a prickling sensation on his skin. Looking around he found the person who was watching him, a rather dusky stranger with dark eyes and curly black hair. Deciding to ignore him for the moment Kaster went to the counter and ordered his coffee.

 Smiling up at the lady behind the counter, he ordered a white mocha and sat down.  Those dark chocolate eyes seemed to gaze into his inner depth to that moment, even as the man played on that beautiful, classical instrument, which he had taken up again moments before. 

Why is he looking at me of all people?  Am I truly that interesting?

 Shrugging the thought off, Kaster sipped his coffee, and enjoyed the music.  He’d thought about taking up the flute a few times when he was younger, but it never happened.  A forested world didn’t necessarily have the resources for that, or at least not a good metal one.  Besides that fact, instruments weren’t practical in that sort of rough life.  Even if I had gotten an instrument…I probably would’ve broken it.

 That though made him smirk.  He’d done many things in the past that showed that he did not know his strength.

Many things…

 Looking back to the young adult on stage, he found those very same eyes looking back.  For some reason, though, it didn’t scare him to be stared at by this stranger.  It was almost a comfort.  Something within those eyes radiated warmth.

 Irala grinned. The new person was watching him too. Those interesting eyes were resting on him again. Moving slowly as he played, he worked his way through the tables. coming to stand in front of the place where Kaster was sitting, playing slowly, delicate fingers dancing over the strings as he shifted through the chords of his instrument, the soft, poignant voice of the violin drifting lazily through the air. Resting a little of his weight against the table the violinist smiled at Kaster, letting a last few notes break through the air before letting his bow come to rest at his side again. Shaking his hair out of his face he offered a hand.

“My name is Irala, what’s yours?”  His voice was soft and pleasant, its tone soothing and rather nonabrasive.

 For a moment Kaster didn’t really know what to do. This was all certainly unexpected.  He opened his mouth a few times, and for quite a while nothing came out.  Finally, he stated softly and simply, “Kaster.”

 Irala found Kaster’s fishlike-motions rather endearing. It said a thing or two about him. Smiling he repeated the name, rolling it around in his mouth as if he were tasting it. “Kaster. That’s an interesting name. Greek isn’t it? Like Castor and Pollux?” Irala’s voice was piquant sounding a bit foreign, almost as if he had a bit of Mexico in him. There was something else in his voice too. It was apparent that the man spoke english as a second language, or was in the habit of speaking in a foreign language often enough so that it colored his voice.

 Kaster’s eyes widened slightly, surprised that anyone would remember than ancient tale.  Smirking ever-so-slightly, the young man nodded.  “Yes, I’m supposed to be the brains of the family, while the sporty brother is non-existent.”

 Irala laughed softly, resting his weight a little more on the edge of the table, the violin resting against his legs. “It sounds as if you don’t feel that you’ve lived up to your namesake.” The dusky youth paused a moment, studying Kaster’s face. Very handsome. I like the way that his face is built. It’s pleasing to the eyes.

 The man smiled in response, “Well, I haven’t proven to be very productive for the last week or so.  Staring out windows doesn’t make you a genius generally.”

 “Ah, but even genius’ need their rest,” the musician stated with a slight smile.  “What did you see out of your window?”

 Kaster sighed softly, thinking over his reply. “I certainly didn’t see anything that moved me,” he ventured, thinking as he spoke some of his lighter mood falling away.
 
 Irala frowned a little, moving the chair beneath him away from the table and sitting down across from Kaster, studying his new acquaintance. “That moved you?”

 Kaster had eyes for nowhere, lazily sipping at his coffee as he spoke his mind, feeling strangely at ease with the dusky and rather pleasant Irala. “I came…and where I live, there is supposed to be a great view of the city. When I look out I feel nothing. I just see a city. Nothing more…nothing less.”

 Irala watched him pragmatically. “I think, that your problem is not the view that you’re afforded…it’s the eyes that are looking at it.”

 Kaster frowned. “What do you mean by that?”

 “To truly appreciate something you have to be open to its good qualities. The city is not for everyone, but even it has its merits. The lights are beautiful in the evenings… and it’s fun to watch the air-traffic go by during the day. Even with all the pollution that comes with living on a world that is mostly city, there are still some birds around here and you can see them too from time to time. There is a lot to see, if you wish to see it. Otherwise you will just see buildings and glass.”  Irala’s eyes were bright and full of something unidentifiable as he spoke. He seemed to be rather in love with this place, with the world cuidad. Kaster couldn’t blame him. In some ways he could understand the passion that he heard buried within the man’s voice.

 Shrugging, the young man nodded.  He wouldn’t want to put down anything that the man loved with such a passion, and the city wasn’t really all that bad of a place.  I just can’t get emotional over it really…not over much for that matter.  “Perhaps I’ll come to see that someday.”

 Irala shook his head slightly, the curly strands of escaped hair framing his face moving a little with his motion. “It’s entirely possible that, you won’t.” There was a laugh in his eyes as he spoke. “Some people don’t bond with the city. They’re more at home in the forest or the desert, perhaps even the ice or the water. There are all sorts of worlds out there. This one just happens to agree with me… with something here.”  Casually a mocha hand rested over his heart, his fingers gently touching the material of his sweatshirt. Smiling he watched Kaster, waiting for his reaction.

 Hazel eyes met dark chocolate, holding a warmer and friendlier emotion.  “Perhaps I’m still a forest man then.”  Leaning forward, Kaster grinned playfully.  “So what’s a musician like you doing in a coffee house like this?”

 Irala held back an eye-roll of gargantuan proportions by sheer will alone. Smiling a little at the absolutely horrid joke he rested his elbows on the table, cupping his chin in his palms. “Playing the violin. What are –you- doing in a place like this?” He shot the old, old pick-up line right back at the man, a slight smile touching his very full and very kiss-able lips.

 Kaster snorted.  “Touche. Cute;… I’m drinking coffee, and burning my tongue in the process.”

 Irala’s eyes sparkled. “Isn’t that what you do at a coffee house? It’s always too hot or too cold. Or else there isn’t enough coffee, there’s always something. Some of the best coffee I’ve ever had was when I was sitting with a cup that I’d made early in the morning and that I was drinking while sitting in bed, looking out the window. It was sublime.”

 Smirking once again, Kaster accused him playfully, “Rambler... hmm… I think I only have coffee when I need a caffeine fix, and I suppose today was just one of those days.  I was kicked out of the house a bit too early.  It’s 2:00…but still…it’s too early to be outside.”  He smiled ruefully, “She said I should socialize…I told her that such things were evil, but she didn’t listen to me.”

 Irala suppressed a sullen look with all of his effort.

Who was -she- ? Damn it, damn it, damn it to helll!  WHY OH WHY DO I ALWAYS find the straight ones? Smiling a little he chanced a reply. It was safe enough. Just because Kaster happened to be woefully straight was not a reason to stop talking to him.

“I’m more of a night person myself,” he said in his soft and even tone, an almost wistful smile tugging at his lips. “I’m most alive after the hours of ten PM.”

 Sensing the thoughts coming from Irala, Kaster raised an eyebrow slightly.  He stares at me out of all of the people within the  crowd…and he likes me….?  Either it’s my day…or he thinks I’m someone else.

“My mother kicked me out of the house,” he stated softly, “She’s supporting me while I go through some classes.  Thankfully my classes don’t start until late, so I can stay up until the crack of dawn if I wanted to.”

 Irala almost jumped out of the chair and did a little dance on the tabletop. Inadvertently…or perhaps it was intentionally Kaster had told him something that made him very happy. Okay, so she is his mother. Extremely cool. So cool that I’m going to smile like a doofus. That always happens. Oh well. Grinning softly he nodded, listening to the tones of Kaster’s voice more than what he was saying, and deciding that he liked what he saw and heard. He believed that he met people for a reason. If he had met Kaster at this point in time then he ought to make good use of his opportunity. Perhaps this might be the only time that they would have together.

“Later classes are easier to manage.” He nodded a little. “I’m a freshman at the university actually. I did several years at the junior college, getting some of my pre-requirements out of the way.” Smiling a little he watched Kaster. his face, his eyes, the way that his mouth worked. “So what’s your major?”

 “Sciences actually…haven’t narrowed it down to just one yet,” Kaster began, smiling almost dreamily as he spoke.  “I should be going into astrophysics within a few years, I think that might become my major, but I have to go through a bunch of other required classes before I can take it.  I even have to take some english…though I couldn’t tell you why.  Must be that ‘well rounded education’ thing.  It’s annoying.”

 Irala chuckled, a musical sound. “I’d agree with you on that one. I’m in a music school currently. I’m going to become a concert violinist. Though, I’m taking time to learn how to play some of the other instruments in that particular family, cello, viola and such. There’s a lot to learn but I’m having fun doing it.” His smile was almost as dreamy as Kaster’s. “I think you’ll do well in the sciences. The universe needs more scientists…”

 Kaster smiled, “I’ve always thought so.  What’s a universe without a scientist?”

 Irala laughed again, that pleasant easy sound. “I think it would be quite a boring universe indeed. Perhaps it’s just me though.”

 They talked the hours away quietly, sitting at the little table toward the back of the café. When it got dark Irala remembered to ask Kaster to coffee again, there was no way that he was going to let this one just slip away He was too much of a beautiful dreamer, in essence something to hold onto. So they made it a habit of meeting every other week and having a cup of coffee and sharing talk of their lives. Irala didn’t know what Kaster though on the subject, but after two months of meeting the man regularly he knew with certainty that he had a crush on the man, if nothing else. It certainly was a crush to be remembered, that consumed his rational thoughts sometime with little remembrances of Kaster, things that he would do, something that he might say. Standing in front of the mirror one Friday, getting ready to go and see the other man Irala shook his head at himself. You are hopeless.

Across the city, Kaster was in the same process.  After finally taming his hair, he stared into the mirror for a few minutes.  I wonder if he’ll like the look… oi, I think I’m getting too soft for my own good. Shaking his head, the young man stepped out of the bathroom, happy to breathe fresh air versus the scent of hair gel.

“Going out again?”  A soft voice called from behind him.

Kaster smiled, “Yes, I think I’ve found out that socializing won’t kill me. At least not with this person.  You don’t need me for anything do you?”

 Mellisa shook her head, then smiled at him quietly for a few moments. Finally…he’s found some happiness in his life.  “Go on, get out of here.”

 “Yes ma’m,” he replied with a teasing smirk. Walking out of the apartment, Kaster sighed an almost relieved sigh as he was about to embark on a meeting with the only person who could lighten his mood. He wasn’t quite sure what it was about this man yet, but he enjoyed Irala’s company. Everything about him was pleasant, and soothing to the soul.  His looks, his voice, his personality. I think…I really like him.

Their meeting was a particularly long one that evening. They sat in their cafe for long hours, idling away the time, speaking on this and that and the other. Around eleven o’clock Irala looked up with his laughing eyes and looked rather sheepish. “Kas,” he murmured. “They have to close, we have to go! It’s almost eleven at night.”

Kaster looked around the room, his eyes widening. “I didn’t realize it had gotten that late,”  he grinned. “You’re such a grand conversationalist, you had me entranced.”

Irala giggled a little. “Yeah, I know I ramble about this and that, you need to learn to shut me up. As it is…it’s really late. Want to come back to my place and spend the night? I’ll drive you home tomorrow. I don’t want you to walk back home tonight. It’s dark and when it gets dark the city gets dangerous. I don’t think you’d ever forgive me if you got mugged whilst walking home.” His tone of voice was light, almost airy, his eyes were dead serious. “So shall we go?”

 His first reaction was a slight smirk, reacting to the light and playful tone. His second, however, was to feel concerned. Has something happened to him at night? Nodding, Kaster gave into his will; not that he minded the thought of a sleep over anyway. “Sure, lead the way.”

Irala smiled and relief seeped into his eyes. Grabbing his keys from a back pocket the dusky man led the way out to his car. It was a nice enough air-car, a little sporty but not particularly expensive. It got him from point A to point B without a problem. Unlocking the passenger side first, Irala made sure that Kaster was in and seatbelted before he too got into the car and, belting himself in, started it.

The drive home was not a long one, Irala lived about fifteen minutes away from the coffee house. All around them the night lighting of the city glowed like a million giant-trapped fireflies. Irala’s eyes sparkled from it all, a soft smile resting on his lips as he drove, humming along with the music that spilled non-intrusively out of the speakers of his vehicle. Flicking his dark eyes over to Kaster he ventured to speak again. “The phone’s by your hand if you want to give your mom a call and give her a heads-up on where you’ll be.”

Kaster smiled, “Yeah, I should probably check in, that’s generally a good thing.” Taking up the phone in his hand he dialed the number and listened to it ring. No one picked up. Sighing slightly, he waited for the machine to pick up. “Mother, this is Kas. I’ll be over at a friend’s house tonight, but I should be back tomorrow afternoon.  I’ll probably call back in the morning to check in. Bye.”

Irala could have purred from the sheer amount of happiness that he was feeling. Tomorrow afternoon meant that he got to spend all night and a part of a day with Kas. That was priceless to him at this moment. The drive didn’t take much longer, pulling into his space, somewhere up on the tenth-story he parked and walked around to open the door for Kaster. Once the other man had gotten out and was firmly standing on the parking platform, Irala locked the car and took his hand in the lightest of grips. “This way.” he murmured, his voice hushed from the lateness of the evening. Winding through some of the other parked cars he guided Kas to the elevator and from there they rode to the twenty-third story where Irala lived. Padding down the hallway, their footsteps were silenced by the cushion of the carpet. Bringing out his keys again, Irala smiled shyly to Kaster. “You’ll have to forgive me, my apartment’s just a little messy. I promise nothing will attack you from under the bed or anything.”

Unlocking the door and showing the younger man in, Irala had spoken the truth. His apartment was rather cluttered, but in a comfortable and eclectic way. Paintings lined the walls and books were stacked helter-skelter on the floor and some of the tables. His violin rested comfortably on a tabletop. Several windows let in the city-lights. Breathing in happily Irala closed the door behind them, turning on a light. “Home sweet home…” he intoned pleasantly.

The younger man smiled,“It’s nice,” he stated honestly. It seemed like a serene place to stay. Soft light came through the windows of the apartment, the glow of the lights from the tall lively buildings just outside. Something about this place radiated warmth, but whether it was the place or the person who lived within it that made him feel so comfortable, Kaster wasn’t sure. “As long as you don’t have any evil animals hiding out in here, I’m sure I won’t be attacked.”

Kaster poked the older man playfully, facing him with an almost idiotic grin. “So where will I be sleeping?”

Irala giggled softly. “I hope you don’t mind, but we’ll be sharing a bed. I have just the one, and my stuff has invaded the couch, I’m not sure I could get to it even if I tried.” he laughed softly, pointing to the couch that was buried under all sorts of odds and ends. Offering another, almost shy smile he spoke.

“ I could sleep on the floor if you want, I have a sleeping bag. I simply will not –abide- with you sleeping on the floor, you’re my guest. If you don’t mind me sleeping with you, I don’t kick or anything. I’m a pretty still person when I’m sleeping. And I don’t snore.”

 Kaster shook his head slightly, “I’m not so sure you’d want to sleep with me. I’m sure that you don’t cause problems, but I might.”

 Irala raised an elegant eyebrow. “How so Kas?” Studying his friend’s face Irala smiled inwardly.

Even if you did, I’d just gather you up and hug you until you’re quiet and don’t squirm and I could blame it on being asleep and not knowing what I’m doing…heh…

 The younger man gave him a shy smile in response.  “I have nightmares,” he stated softly, “Very bad ones.  I might kick you or scream or something…” Kaster looked slightly uncertain, as if he were looking for some sort of acceptance.  “I wouldn’t want to disturb you while you are sleeping.”

 Irala reached out and gave Kaster’s hand a little squeeze as he smiled, his chocolate eyes warming up about five degrees. “Don’t worry about it Kas. I’m a bit of an insomniac. I wouldn’t have been sleeping very much anyway. I’ll just wake you up if you start squirming all right?”

 Kaster gave him a small smile.  “All right…  Are you sure you don’t mind?”

 Irala laughed, meandering back toward his room, pulling the elastic tie out of his curly black hair so that it fell about his shoulders in a silky whisper of tresses. “I’m sure. I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t mean it Kas. I have some nightclothes that you can borrow if you want.” His voice faded a little as he disappeared into a back room that was presumably his bedroom.

 The younger man walked after Irala, glancing around the apartment as he started to catch up to him.  Candles were everywhere, decorating the furniture, and a fish tank laid on a large end table.  He took note of the colors and scents around him, feeling a wave of inner calm come to him once again.  “Some nightclothes would be nice,” Kaster replied after a while, as he began entering the room.  “What kind of fish are those out there?”

 Irala turned, smiling a little. From what he had been wearing, he had progressed down to wearing just pants. His chest was smooth, hairless. Most of him was that way, as far as Kaster could see on a quick inspection. His curly black hair fell calmly about his shoulders, and he seemed incredibly relaxed.

“They’re angel-fish.”  Pausing for a moment he stared into the drawer. “Are you a person for full-coverage, or do you want just a shirt or just pants or what? There’s all sorts of stuff here…”

 The younger man shrugged, “My usual attire includes pants and a tank top, but it doesn’t really matter that much to me.”  Pausing, Kaster looked at the figure before him, eyes glancing from the darkness of the other’s skin, to those deep, but laughing eyes that he’d come to like so much.  Smiling slightly uncomfortably, he went to the dresser to pick something out.

When did I start thinking like this so much?…

 Irala moved out of the way for Kaster, letting the man choose what he would from his rather extensive and eclectic collection of clothes. He had to admit it; he loved to shop. Clothes were something to be flaunted, worn, and enjoyed. Slipping over to his bed he sat down, sliding to the far edge, leaving Kaster plenty of room and stretching out on his stomach, looking over to the younger man with drowsy and good-natured languor resting in his expression. His curly hair fell forward and hid one of his eyes.  All at once he looked feral and beautiful and mysterious, merely from a change in position. His eyes closed, and he waited, listening to the sounds of Kaster dressing. Even if he were eager he would still give the man his privacy while dressing. They weren’t –that – well aquatinted yet.
 Slipping on a short sleeved shirt, Kaster turned and walked towards the bed.  The pants were a little too large for him, but he could make do with them.  Sitting down, he poked Irala in the side.  “Do you have enough room over there?”

 Irala giggled softly, he was terribly ticklish, but he wouldn’t show it to Kaster lest he die. “Yes. “ he stated calmly. “Feel free to stretch out and get comfortable.”

 Smiling, the younger man did just that, flopping onto his stomach, and pulling the covers over the lower half of his body.  He rested his head on the pillow comfortably, and looked over at Irala.  With a twinkle in his eye, Kaster started poking at his ribs.  Trying to save yourself from this were you?  … gotcha!

 Irala squealed, sounding utterly cute in his moment of vulnerability. “Kaaas!” he whined between giggles. Gasping for air all ready he spoke to the room. “Lights… heh.. ah! .. out!” The lights turned themselves off and the two mans were left thrashing about in the subdued glow of the city lights from the window near the bed. Twisting and turning, trying to get away, Irala turned and tried to tickle the younger man back.

 Kaster grinned evilly.  “Sorry, Irala.  I’m not ticklish,” he sang tauntingly.  Twisting into the older man’s body, he continued his pursuit, laughing at the squeals that Irala let out.  “You’re funny when you’re vulnerable,” Kaster commenting teasingly.

 Irala laughed for so long that there were tears streaming freely down his cheeks. His pulse was pounding somewhere steadily in the back of his ears. “Kas!” he gasped out almost frantically between choking laughs. “PLEASE STOP!” His face came to rest against the younger man’s shoulder as he tried just once more to get away from the pleasantly torturous fingers that worried at him.

 Grinning, Kaster finally stopped, allowing Irala to catch his breath.  “Breathe, Ira, breathe.  I know you can do it.”  Poking at ribs one last time, the younger man relaxed, and put an arm around the small of Irala’s back.  A few minutes later, he looked down at the older man.  “You alive?”

 Irala’s frantic breaths had slowed and his face rested against Kaster’s chest, his face nestled just below Kaster’s chin. His curly hair fell forward to gently touch the younger man. A smile touched his lips and a voice tired from laughing answered Kas’ question.

“I live.” he stated simply.

 Kas smirked, “You sure? Are you positive?”

“Only fools are positive,” Irala stated, a smile resting upon his face.

 The younger man nodded, still smirking.  “True,” he stated simply.  “Do you think you’d live if I poked you again?”

 Ira groaned softly, gently nipping at Kas’ throat. “No!” Blushing at his own brashness, and glad of the fact that his hair hid his face, Ira let up. Nestling up close to his younger companion Ira smiled. “We ought to go to sleep. It’s very late. I don’t know about you…but I’m tired.” In answer to Kaster’s hand resting innocently about his waist, Irala hooked his arm over Kas’ waist as well, letting his forearm rest on the younger man’s hip.

 “Sleep is good…from time to time,” Kaster stated, a soft grin lying upon his face.  “Why don’t you start first, maybe then, you’ll have a chance to fall asleep.”

 Irala, being rather tired and not knowing entirely what was coming out his mouth spoke. “Are you planning on doing idle mischief while I sleep sweetling?” Being as zoned out as he was, Irala didn’t catch himself.

Sweetling?

Kaster’s eyebrows furrowed slightly, but he said nothing.  From what he could tell, the elder man was extremely tired.  ..Maybe he was thinking of someone else.  Shrugging slightly, Kaster looked down at Irala, finding a mass of curls hiding his face.  He was almost tempted to play with the hair…but then, the man WAS trying to sleep.  Compromising, the man stroked it gently, so as not to disturb him from his slumber.  It was soft to the touch, and nearly enclosed his hand with its sheer amounts.  In response to the soft touches, Irala made a happy sound somewhere in the back of his throat, burrowing close to Kas, soaking up his body-heat and laying quietly. After a period his breathing evened out and he seemed to be dozing, if nothing else.

 Feeling slightly relieved, Kaster allowed his eyelids to drop.

Sooo tired…

Yawning gently, the younger man blew some of his dark brown hair out of his face, and turned against Irala.  His arms held the other man gently, as he slowly started to fall asleep.  Hopefully this night will be a little more restful.

 
***

 A scream sounded in the previously calm room, piercing the night.  Kaster sat up with a jerk, panting and sweaty.  Ira found himself on the floor with a thud. The poor rather befuddled man was not quite sure how it had happened, only that he was there.  Piercing green eyes darted to and fro, shock residing within them.

 “Oh my god, oh my god!”  The young man fought to breathe, and seemed to be looking nowhere and everywhere at once.  “Why..?”

 Ira stood carefully, sitting on the edge of the bed and carefully reaching out to touch Kaster’s hand. “Kas…” he spoke in a calm, even tone, trying to soothe with words. Somehow it seemed like it would be a bad idea to touch the panicked man too much at the moment. “Kaster…it’s Irala. You’re in my room. You slept over tonight. Remember? You’re okay. Listen to me. You are o-kay.”  Calmly he wound his fingers around Kaster’s. “Talk to me Kas. Tell me what’s wrong.”

 Again, those green eyes wouldn’t focus.  The man looked lost, as though his mind was somewhere far away.  “Why…why did this have to happen..”

 Ira frowned a bit. Kaster was stuck in a memory somewhere, he wasn’t sure how to bring the man out of it either. Gathering his younger friend carefully to him he stroked his hair, continuing to talk to him. “Kas…you need to come back hon…you just need to come back. Leave that place. Wherever it is, whatever it was that happened. Dwelling is not going to help you or them. You need to come back. Come back Kaster…you’re gonna be okay…” The dark man was a bit lost as to what to do. He’d never had to deal with someone who suffered night terrors the way that Kaster was suffering.

 Kaster shivered, and snuggled up against Irala for warmth.  Suddenly, the words being spoken started to make sense.  Come back…?  He whined softly in the elder man’s arms until, finally, he started to come back.  His eyes still held intense fear, but at least now they could focus.  “What…?  Irala?”

 Irala breathed a sigh of relief. At least Kas was back on the same page, so to speak. Carefully he reached out and drew a blanket up and around them, wrapping them both in a soft cocoon that smelled a bit like vanilla. Making sure that Kaster was securely wrapped in his arms he spoke again. “You were having a nightmare Kas…you were spaced out really bad.”  Bringing a hand up, he stroked the younger man’s hair gently. “I was worried,” he said softly.

 The man relaxed against him, breathing a sigh of his own.  “I’m sorry I scared you.  I hoped that it wouldn’t happen tonight…  I’m all right now.”  Smiling up at him, Kaster tried to alleviate any fear that the elder man had.  Smirking shyly, he continued, “I told you I’d be trouble.”

 Irala smiled soothingly, nuzzling Kaster lightly. “I don’t mind sweetling.” There, he’d said it again. He rather liked it as a pet name for Kas. It seemed to suit him. There was something sweet about his face and eyes that seemed to fit. Resting his cheek against Kaster’s he spoke again, his deeply melodic voice sounding gently against Kas’ ear.

“Want to tell me what scared you that bad? You don’t have to… but sometimes it helps to talk about it.”

 Kaster looked into Irala’s dark eyes, biting his lip slightly.  “It’s a rather long story, actually.  Something that happened a lot time ago comes back to haunt me often … did you just call me sweetling?”

 Irala laughed softly, flushing as he realized that Kaster had caught on. Still, he played off it as if it were nothing. “Why yes…I did.”  Pausing for a moment he went on. “I like long stories… I want to hear this one… and I think as I do, I shall give you a back rub because I have never in my life seen someone who needed one more than you. So stretch out on your stomach and start talking!”

 The younger man raised an eyebrow and grinned.  “Is that an order?”

 Ira chuckled. “Yes… it is!”

 Slowly, Kaster did as the elder man said, lying out on his stomach contentedly.  “Yes master, of course master, whatever you wish.”  Turning around slightly, the man gave Ira a teasing look.  “So are you rubbing or not?”

 Ira grinned, Kaster was asking for it. Slapping the man lightly on the butt he purred in his ear in his best dominant voice. “All in good time little one. Quiet your tongue.” having said his piece he moved over to straddle Kaster’s hips, resting his weight on his knees as he started carefully massaging his neck and shoulders.

“Talk to me…what were you dreaming of? You promised me a story ‘member?”
 
  Kaster blushed at Ira’s dominant tone, not expecting the elder’s reaction.  Clearing his throat, he relaxed on the bed and let Irala’s magic fingers do the work.  He heaved a deep sigh and moaned softly as the man above him hit all of the right places.  I never knew I was this tense…  After a while, he lifted his head from the soft cushion.

 “When I was about 16 or so, this strange man came to call at my house.  We lived in a thick forest, so we didn’t often get visitors, and those who did come were from small tribal groups that were in need of help.  This man pretended to be some sort of trader, but right off the bat I could sense that there was something more to him than that.  My dad invited him in despite my warnings, and they negotiated for only fifteen minutes or so before….  Before the stranger killed my dad.”

 Ira’s eyes widened and for a moment the gentle ministrations of his fingers stopped, and then he picked up where he had left off, still listening, he was the one that had asked for this rather macabre recounting.
 
 Kaster hesitated for a long moment, and squinted back the tears that had started to form within his eyes.  Sighing slightly, he continued.  “The murderer tried to go after me, as well.  At first I evaded him easily, but soon enough I found out that he had powers of his own.  He was a telekinetic, and he was about as powerful as I was with that trait.  He ended up cornering me, and he got a good slash at my eye before my grandfather tried to drive him away.   My grandpa…he went up against him, telling me to run.  I didn’t want to…not with him still there trying to fight someone he couldn’t beat.  But he forced me.  I left him behind to a killer…”

 The younger man stopped abruptly, his body convulsing as he started to cry.  “I keep thinking…if I had just stayed no matter what…maybe I could’ve saved him.”

 Irala didn’t think as he moved, he only moved, gathering Kaster up in his arms, deeply sorry that he had asked such a painful question of his younger friend. “Oh Kas…” he started softly, not knowing where he was going with his own thought. It didn’t seem like a situation that Kaster could have done anything about. If nothing else it might have turned out worse and he wouldn’t be talking to Kaster at all. Stroking the man’s hair slowly and soothingly, he just held him. Telling him that it was all right would be a lie, and telling him to stop crying would just be stupid.

“Perhaps…you could have saved him… and perhaps not. There’s always a chance for a different outcome in every decision that you make. But looking at it coldly and rationally… there might not have been all that much you could have done anyway. You were hurt, panicky… you might have ended up dead and then I wouldn’t be talking to you now.”

 Gently he tilted Kaster’s face up to him and kissed away the tears that were falling down his face, carefully and with a great deal of tenderness.  After a silent moment Irala spoke again. “You said…you have powers?”

 Kaster calmed slightly, looking up at Irala’s face with a softly vulnerable expression.  “I…I suppose you’re right.  I’d much rather be here with you, than suffer that kind of fate.  … I have telekinetic powers, along with some telepathic, and empathic.  I guess I never told you that…sorry.”

 Irala studied Kaster’s face wonderingly. From the look in his eyes he was telling the truth. He had known that there were psychics out there, there was even a psychic world…but he’d never met someone gifted in that way in person. Letting a laugh slip through his lips he smiled, stroking Kas’ cheeks with his thumbs. “That’s all right. Sometimes the little things like that slip your mind.”

 Peering down a little he smiles and then laid a gentle kiss between Kaster’s eyes. It was just the barest brush of his lips against the younger man’s skin, but it made him feel good. “Want to try and rest again?”

 Smiling, the younger boy nodded.  “Sounds good to me…so long as I don’t get haunted by things again.”  Kaster lay back slightly, pulling Irala down with him.  Giving the boy a mildly vulnerable look, he spoke softly.  “Hold me for a bit?”

 Irala’s heart took a moment to knock violently against his ribs, out of pure joy. Then, pushing that feeling down he smiled reassuringly at Kaster. He could never hurt the younger man, he was sure of it. The knot of protectiveness growing inside of his chest reassured him of that fact.

“Sure.”

 Wrapping his arms carefully around the boy, he rested his head next to Kaster’s. His black hair tumbling about the pillow. “I’ll sing you to sleep,” he murmured. And sing he did, softly going on in what sounded a bit like spanish accented with something else.

 Almost automatically, Kaster relaxed, wrapping his arms more securely around him. “Goodnight, Ira.”   Slowly, he began to doze, his memories temporarily cast aside.  Finally, there was peace.

 Ira watched Kaster sleep, quite awake now; he probably wouldn’t sleep for the rest of the night. Yet it was worth it to him, to watch this angel of a boy sleep. I’m kinda glad that I could calm him. It feels good to hold him. I’m going to do it more often.

 Eventually…morning came.

* * *

 Kaster smiled warmly, looking across the table to his love.  It had been six months since the day they met, and they had just come back from celebratory dinner.  It seemed hard to believe that it had been such a long time.  Honestly, to him, it was almost as if they had just met.  They were more comfortable with their relationship now, but it still felt the same otherwise.  Those eyes stuck him to this day…and as he sipped his wine, Kaster reflected, that those eyes had held him captive from the very beginning.  Luck finally did find me I think…it took a while, but it came.

 Ira studied Kaster with warm and affectionate interest. He had memorized his love’s face long ago, to the point of where he could close his eyes and recall any particular aspect of Kas’ face that he so desired, but he didn’t suppose that he would ever tire of looking at it. Of the way that his lovely hair tumbled playfully about his eyes, of the shape of his mouth, the sparkle of his alluring eyes. You stole my heart you little devil. Now don’t you dare give it back.  Smiling he sipped at his wine. It was a nice vineyard. Looking at Kaster again he found a lonesome thought meandering across his mind with great leisure.

I want to kiss him… There was really no reason why not to…

 Setting his wine down on a side table Ira gave Kas a warm smile, waiting for the other boy to draw his own conclusions.

 Kaster smirked, his eyes widening playfully.  “Why, the thoughts you have!  Do you think I can be taken so easily?”

 Ira laughed playfully, slinking over to the couch where Kas was sitting and sliding up next to him. “Not easily…no… but with a little work…” he said softly, peering into Kas’s eyes with his own, looking innocent and sultry at the same time, a contradiction in terms.

 The younger boy softened just a bit.  “How do you do that?” he asked softly.

 “Do what?” Ira queried, nuzzling Kaster’s neck, his hair dancing along his love’s skin.

 “Look so innocent and sexy at the same time,” the younger man replied, entwining his fingers within Ira’s curly tresses.

 Ira gently pressed his lips to Kaster’s neck, feeling his love’s pulse moving beneath them. Playfully he flicked his tongue out to brush the spot and then he moved back a little, smiling. “It’s a talent I have.”

 Kaster sighed happily as Ira kissed him.  Running his hands up the other boy’s sides, he smiled softly.  “So what, may I ask, are you’re other talents?”

 Ira giggled softly, his skin dancing from sensation. The wine had made his head pleasantly fuzzy, but he wasn’t drunk, simply a little buzzed. “I sing…I dance…I play violin and other string instruments, I give good head… y’know…just little things…” Laughing softly he kissed again at Kaster’s oh-so-smooth skin, intending to mark it just a little. Love bites. Nipping gently he soothed the minor hurt that it might cause by sucking on Kas’ skin.

 The younger man groaned softly, and stroked Ira’s back.  “Ah, so now you’re going to will me into your ways and try out those talents?”

 Ira almost purred. “That was the idea amore.”

 For a while they sat in each other’s company, touching, teasing, and testing. It was the first time that they had ever gotten past simple intimacies. Neither was in a particular hurry for it to end quickly.

 Kaster was in heaven through all of it.  This was the first time he’d ever done this; the first time he’d gotten much past kissing for that matter.  Though, in all of his awkwardness, he was loving, and pleasing in his soft touches.

 “I love you,” he whispered between breaths.

 Ira paused, burying his face in Kaster’s silky hair. In that particular moment, caught up as he was in lust and love for the boy, he almost thought he would cry. Such affecting words.

“I love you too Kas…” he murmured back, moving his hands slowly over his love’s sides.

 Somewhere in the confusion it was decided that they needed to get the clothes off.   Kas was stripped slowly as he undressed Irala.  He kissed down his lover’s chest slowly, until he came down to the other’s abdomen.  With nearly painful slowness, he unbuckled Ira’s belt, and started slipping the dark slacks down Ira’s mocha colored legs.
 
 The darker boy shivered, letting a soft, cooing sound escape from his lips. Kas’ gentle touches stopped. Ira opened his eyes and watched Kaster. “What?” he asked softly?

 His love was sitting there in front of him, eyeing a site of imperfection in his lower stomach. A long, fairly straight line had healed along his abdomen. This was what Kas gently traced with a slow hand, causing him to shiver once more.

“Are you curious about it?” he asked softly.

 The younger man nodded; tracing the scar once more, he sat up, holding Ira against him.  “What happened?” he asked softly, staring deeply into chocolate eyes.

 Ira stared back at him calmly, leaning forward once to lightly brush their lips together. “That’s my semi-long story.” He chuckled softly.

“One time, when I was walking home from playing at the cafe; I had no car. It was late and I was tired. I took a shortcut to get home. A couple of people jumped me and stabbed me. They took my money and were going to do more, but someone scared them off. I blacked out and the next thing that I remember, is being in the hospital.”

 Kaster’s eyes widened, and he held Ira closer.  “Oh, Ira, I’m sorry that happened to you,” he stated, rubbing the other man’s side.  “Who found you?  Do you remember?”

 Irala shook his head, wrapping his arms about Kas’ waist. “You know, the funny thing is… I don’t. I just remember their voice. That was all. They sounded pretty pissed.”

 The younger man snorted softly, and buried his face against Irala’s neck.  “Well, someone was looking out for you that night.  I’m glad you recovered…if I didn’t have you, I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.”

 Irala laughed softly, rubbing his cheek against Kas’. The other boy had such soft skin. He loved to touch Kaster. It was a deep pleasure. “I agree… who knows what you would be doing with yourself? Moping? Spazzing?” chuckling he kissed Kas’ cheek, and then his jaw, moving over to tenderly nibble on his ear.

 Kas smiled, collapsing against his love.  He moved his hands around Irala to stroke his back gently.  "Probably moping,” he stated, holding him tightly.  His answer was truthful to say the least, he reflected, for the most part that’s all he ever did when he came to this city.  No wonder mom wanted me out of the house…I wouldn’t want to be around me in that state either.

 Irala smiled in answer to him, his eyes sparkling as he studied Kas. “And we can’t have that now can we?”  The boy turned in his love’s arms, forcing the boy to lay down on the couch.  “I love seeing you happy,” he stated softly, nipping at his neck.

The younger man smiled softly, and leaned his head back to give Ira more room for his ministrations.  “You pulled me out of my depression Ira.  I don’t think I’ve ever been happier in my life. I'm not sure I'll ever be able to repay you for all that you've done.”

   Ira stroked his face with gentle fingers.  “I don't want to be paid back,” he stated simply,  “I just want my Kas.”

  Kas’ eyes watered a little at the statement.  The thought of being needed and wanted warmed his heart and soul.

Who would have thought that I’d become so lucky?

 They spent the remainder of the night proving their love to one another.  Each wrapped in the others’ warm arms, feeling a powerful array of emotion.  It was absolute bliss, as Kas reflected, staring at the sleeping boy next to him.  It had been unlike anything that he’d ever experienced…almost too good to be true.  At points during the night, he expected it all to disappear; after all, such good occurrences often did vanish from his life now.  One thing he’d learned throughout his trials was simply that nothing lasts…and yet that face before him seemed to promise the universe.

 Snuggling against the older boy, Kaster sighed, allowing a peaceful smile to rest upon his lips.  The sheets pooled gently about his hips as he rested his head against Ira’s, and sleep began to come to him once more…

 The phone suddenly rang; it was a shrill noise that cut the comfortable silence.  Groaning slightly, the boy turned to pick up the receiver.

 “H…hello?”  he asked in a low, groggy voice.

 The voice answered slowly, “Kaster Tryowski, I presume?  This was the only other phone number I was given to contact…”

 “I am he,” Kaster replied quickly, sitting up in the bed.  “W… what is it that you have to tell me?”  There was something about that tone…that slow speech… he didn’t like it.

 The man on the other line cleared his throat, and sighed.  Whatever he had to tell, it sounded like it was going to be a burden.  “Kaster…I’m sorry…but your mother has just died in action.”