| Encounter in a Garden |
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Inoran put the watering can down on the stone edging around one of the raised flowerbeds in the small, enclosed garden that belonged to the part of the Temple where the Saints lived. Absently he rubbed his lower arms that were bare, cause he'd rolled the sleeves of his shirt up, so they wouldn't get stained from the garden work. It was so pleasantly silent and calm - NOW it was calm, after that bouncy Emiru had been ordered away to attend to some Saint elsewhere. Inoran wasn't particularly grieved that he had left him to tend for the garden alone, not that Emiru had been much help anyway. That featherhead had tittered from pretty flower to pretty flower and bounced around him with unnerving eagerness and energy and still managed to get nothing accomplished, not even watering the flowers. Moreover Emiru had started to pout when Inoran had resigned to ignore him, getting even less talkative. But having Emiru as help and being drowned by his overly eager questions about this plant and that one and the right amount of water that ought to be given to each of them had turned out to be more exhausting than doing it all by himself. The one good thing at having had Emiru along was that otherwise possibly he himself would have been sent to attend to whatever Saint's needs and then he would have missed one of his treasured lonely moments. Inoran delighted deeply in having a little time to himself, a little time, where he needn't stand to attention, always waiting for the next order from some priest or serving to the whims of one of the Saints. Working in these little gardens really was the best. Most of the time it was quiet beneath the vaulting domes of colored glass and intricate ribs of metal. Lush vegetation proliferated the whole area, thick green leaves and big flowers in all kinds of shapes and colors. Inoran wiped his earth stained hands on his apron then reached out and broke a small twig of a plant growing just in front of him. Deftly he peeled off the bark and then stuck one end into his mouth, chewing and suckling at the soft, slightly mushy wood. After some moments a sweet, tingly taste flooded his mouth and he sighed, closing his eyes. He hadn't told Emiru about this little bush and he definitely wouldn't do so later. It wouldn't do for the greedy, over enthused bugger to salvage his tree-or spill it to any priest! The heavy almost intoxicating scent of manifold blooming flowers hung in the still, moist air making Inoran a little dizzy as he inhaled deeply. He turned the little twig with his tongue, skillfully draining the last bit of taste. A soft sound, almost beyond the threshold of hearing slowly seeped into his calm mind, subversively binding his attention. Still keeping his eyes closed, Inoran strained his ears, listening for the faint sounds, concentrating on them till he thought he could make out some kind of melody, some music. Unthinkingly the servant opened his eyes and walked down a small path between the rampantly growing plants, following the haunting sounds. //It's a fiddle.// Inoran noted entranced, as the spellbinding melody became more distinct. The haunting music of the fiddle struck some answering chord inside him, drawing him closer as he got deeper and deeper interwoven with the melody. He didn't notice as the little twig fell from his mouth. Sweat gathered at his upper lip and dripped down from his chin, making him shudder as a small droplet hit the hollow at his throat and then slid down his chest in a little rivulet vanishing into his shirt. Carefully Inoran pushed a big, lush leave aside that hung across the path and entered a little clearing, his gaze falling on the man playing the fiddle. He knelt on a broad altar like stone bench that had a piece of white cloth thrown over it with careless art. Its ends trailed down on the ground, fallen leaves and petals being caught in its subtle folds, making a colorful, hap-hazardous pattern. But Inoran's eyes were transfixed on the man, who was completely naked, his lean body emanating an utterly lascivious, almost tangible sexuality. His short purple hair fell damply into the man's face, which wore an expression of self-sufficient rapture, as he seemed to be only aware of the way in which he sensually drew the bow over the strings of his fiddle, pulling a long trembling note from it. Spellbound Inoran watched the man kneeling on the stone bench, feeling the blood rush through his body and his breathing quicken with the entrancing music that hung in the air like cobwebs. Then suddenly the fiddler lifted his eyes and captured Inoran with a sinful gaze from beneath his lashes. Inoran felt his heart skip a beat and then pound heavily, heat rising in his body. That sultry gaze held him, felt like a hot touch running tantalizingly over his naked skin while he was bound by the spidery threads of the music that danced over his body. Unconsciously the servant took a step closer, drawn to that creature of heat and sensuality kneeling on the stone bench. The fiddler's lips curled into a slow, wicked smile and he shifted his slim hips, the muscles moving beneath the pale skin of his sleek thighs. Inoran's lips parted, but then he lowered his head to hide his flushed face beneath his shaggy, sand colored hair. //N-no ... this isn't true. Can't be. A Saint... he's one of the Saints.// Inoran swallowed as he still felt the other man's heavy gaze sear into him. Suddenly he realized that he stood in front of the stone bench having covered the remaining distance with a last dazed step. The heat radiating from the naked Saint washed against him. //Hot... a Ray of the Sun... so hot. He's going to burn me...I don't want to. I want to be alone...// His belly tightened. Whether it was with fear or with excitement, Inoran couldn't tell. He struggled with himself to back off, to leave, but he couldn't move... just closer, closer to that heat. //Like a moth to the flame ...// Slowly the purple haired man licked his lips, drawing the bow languorously over the strings of his fiddle, drawing out a high quavering note that still hung delicately in the air as he dropped the bow and put the fiddle away carelessly. Even though the Saint had stopped playing Inoran still felt the simple haunting Song all around him, reverberating through his body, holding him captured while the older man reached out for him. He placed a strong, sinewy hand against his chest, fingers splayed and smiled a vicious smile at him. Inoran felt like the Saint's touch would leave a burning imprint on his chest, on his skin, singeing through the fabric of his shirt. Uncertainly the servant licked his lips and then stared in shock, as his clothes suddenly sprang into flame. Still he couldn't move, couldn't run, just stare at the Ray of the Sun, his sensuous smile and the dancing flames being reflected in the brown, sultry eyes. //Hot... so hot... burning...// The flames licked over his skin while they consumed his shirt but it didn't hurt. Inoran gasped silently as the Saint moved his hand down his chest in a trail of fire, making his shirt dissolve into flames, leaving his chest and flat belly bare, just some tatters still clinging to his arms and back. With a soft moan Inoran suddenly arched into that hot, singeing touch, wanting to burn with his clothes even though he was scared, so scared he trembled. //He could make me burn just as easily as this linen... he could let these flames devour me... Ah... still... still I want to be devoured...//Inoran's chest heaved, sleek and shiny with sweat and he heard the Saint's low chuckle as his hand caressed down between his legs. Flames danced around the servant's slim hips, incinerating his trousers, to lick along the man's revealed erection. A wave of heat surged through Inoran's body and he tumbled disoriented into a sea of fire. Sinewy arms wrapped around him and he was pulled against a hard, burning body. Hands grabbed his shaggy hair, pulling his head back and his mouth was devoured in a wild, demanding kiss. And all the while he still felt that Song... the haunting voice of the fiddle, quivering, spiraling higher and higher with the dancing flames, entangling him in a web of desire. Only faintly was he aware of the hard, cool stone-bench pressing against his back. He just felt that hot consuming mouth, and hands all over his naked body, making him quiver with lust. His legs were spread wide and he arched up with a soundless cry as that burning touch penetrated him... eating him... sliding deeper and deeper...filling him. Inoran squirmed feverishly, moving against the Ray of the Sun that thrust inside him. Through a haze he saw the man's hungry, consuming eyes and sultry smile hovering above him, before he felt his mouth being taken again... his whole body. //I'm going to burn... burn alive. He's everywhere ... consuming me... I'll die. I'll die...// --------- Saint Sugizo smiled, sated, down at the young man lying sprawled bonelessly on his back on the stone bench. Lazy, dusty light played over the naked, slender body that was drenched with sweat and all flushed. Slowly, complacently the older man licked his lips, contemplating the feast he'd had. //Delicious servant boy... squirming, surrendering... so sweet and wild... and shy.// They couldn't expect him to wait till the next ball really. He licked over his palm that was stained with the servant's still warm seeds, idly indulging in the taste. //Such sweet complete surrender...// With a languorous snarl Sugi-sama stretched, displaying his body wantonly, delighting in its feel. //So good ...// He sensed a gaze resting at him and with a slow smile, he glanced at the servant from beneath his lashes. Suddenly he averted his gaze and pushed up into a sitting position. His arms trembled slightly beneath his weight and he swayed a little, half turning his back on Sugizo and burring his face in one hand. Sugizo chuckled huskily. "So shy?" he mocked, then bent closer and lapped along the curve of Inoran's neck. "You're a lucky one to have been around. You can't tell me you didn't enjoy it." For a moment the young man sat motionless, but then he jerked away. "Don't! Don't touch me..." he whispered hoarsely. //Too much. It's too much... I feel so raw...Like I've got no skin, all my senses laying open... screaming at me... still burning...// He inhaled shakily half hugging himself. Puzzled Sugi-sama gazed at the servant's grave, closed up expression, but then shrugged and sank back contentedly. Inoran sat at the edge of the stone bench, shivering, taking some moments to calm down. As he no longer trembled he looked around for his clothes without much hope though. Behind him the Saint stirred and suddenly got up from the stone bench. Inoran kept his gaze averted, still staring at the ground that was scattered with leaves and blossoms. Something cool and smooth slid around his shoulders and back, covering him. Startled the servant looked up. The Saint grinned wickedly at him, but then let go of the white drape, letting it fall around Inoran without touching him. For some heartbeats the servant's gaze remained on Sugizo, damp, shaggy hair falling into his solemn eyes. Then he lowered his gaze again and got up unsteadily. Wordlessly he drew the white drape around his naked body. He felt voiceless before the Saint. //What's there to say anyway? 'It's been so great, I feel like I'm no longer living, now that those burning, wild flames died down? He surely knows just how good he is...// Thus Inoran left without another word or look at the Saint. Confused Sugizo watched the young man walk down the path he had come from, disappearing into the lush vegetation of the little garden. "What a silent guy..." End Part Four | Part 5 | |
| Tavernroom | Tales | |