Well, another story for the books. Maybe I'll get around to finishing it AND posting it. I'm sorry, any Sleepover readers who may be reading this. I swear to God that I'll finish that sucker up one of these days. But for today, You guys get a Host Club story. I rather like it, myself. I took my already adjective-y writing over the top to get the right sensuality for this piece. Oh, how I love adjectives. giggles I'll post one copy up in T and one in M, just in case I feel lemony or something later.

What things I said I was going to marry thus far today: My black pants, this story, my friend Lisa, Lauren's mittens that smelled like a Michael's store at Christmas-time, apple juice (all of it that has ever or ever will exist), and my mother. (Oooo, kinky incest)

Enjoy!

“Sit down.”

Beneath the dark cloak, light eyes traced the faint outline of a chair, its fleeting shadow flickering by the glow of a single wax candle. Hands replaced glances, sweeping over deeply creased velvet and dark-stained wood, soon resting on the chair’s high back. A moment’s hesitation, his eyes tightening, then he sat. He slowly shifted, attempting to make his body, and his nerves, more comfortable.

Blue eyes studied the lone candle as he absorbed the soft suggestion of peony on the air. Sitting on that velvet pedestal, his European lineage lay clear despite being shrouded by a cloak’s heavy form. Fine bones, cerulean eyes, and translucent skin laced with pale freckles painted the soft portrait of a young man. But what dulled all his other features was his hair. Luminous gold flowed through those delicate strands, strands that never failed to fall alluringly into their possessor’s eyes, a tempting sight for those who dared the thought.

“Take off your cloak.”

A soft sigh, then the sound of fabric pooling like water on the floor.

“Relax.”

His muscles only scarcely obeyed- caution necessitated them to be taut. Lids veiled darting blue eyes in hope of appeasing the figure analyzing out of sight, but forefront in mind.

Silence, except for his heartbeat’s pulse on his eardrums, deafening him.

“When you’re ready.”

His eyes tightened, and then opened. A nod.

Heavy curtains were pulled aside, flooding the room with day’s brilliant sunlight. It burned the skin and eyes like open flame. His mind threatened to abandon him, only remaining for the promise of dark at the end of the tunnel, so close and far at once.

“…Five, four, three, two, one….”

The world dissipated into darkness once more.

“You can tolerate thirty-five seconds now.”

A familiar tenseness in his every muscle remained. Long fingers had woven themselves into the intricate armrests of the chair, and had yet to release their hold. Lips were parted for hasty breaths, bated by the awareness of the other’s ebony eyes slowly consuming them through the darkness.

“You’ve improved.”

His eyebrows knit while his mind wrapped around the statement. A moment would come when light no longer burned. Fingers remained tense.

“You’re free to leave.”

The voice had come closer, so near that he could hear the sweet breath that sustained it, hot and silky on his ear. He could only imagine those dark eyes roaming over the delicate terrain of his neck, absorbing every dip, every curve painting its pale landscape. Then, the feeling of lips caressing his hair like a whisper, drawing his eyes and hands half-open through fleeting sensation.

And then, only the other’s scent remained. His skin’s memory recalled the other’s touch, eliciting a chill. Somehow, his body now craved that burn.

That's all for today kids. So if you enjoyed, leave me a review so I know I should actually put the effort into writing another chappie because I have readers.

Well, ta-ta for now. Check back next week for another chapter. (If you guys want me to...)

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