Short Course Descriptions of the Classes Taken by Leon & Count D
Rating: NC-17, R
Pairing: Leon X D
WC: huh?
Off to NYC this morning, soon as I get my act together. Manga store & thai food and chocolate croissants in Grand Central! Please leave me a comment if you have a moment, do. Have a great holiday if you are having one and if not, just a pleasant day!
Course Descriptions of Classes Taken by Leon and Count D:
CHEMISTRY
“You’ll stay the night? Protect me, Detective?”
Clinging to broad shoulders, he looked up and disarmed the flustered detective with a flutter of eyelashes and a longing, amorous gaze.
“What? You think he’s coming back or something?”
The tall blonde shied in his arms, scenting for danger - or at least, the threat. He didn’t like other guys touching his stuff.
“Well…no. Not tonight. It’s only….”
There was a nose in his ear, breathing. A hot mouth nuzzling his neck. Hungry lips brushing his skin and sending little thrills down his spine.
“Only?”
“It’s better with you, my dear detective.”
BIOLOGY I
So, ok, he was gay now. Gay. Homo. Pansy. The guy with the tittie posters all over his walls.
Well, yeah, if wanting to suck someone’s dick and shove his own right up their sweet ass meant gay, then he was flamer, no doubt about it.
Hell, he’d even take it, on hands and knees and liking it, if that would make D happy.
Gay, huh. Who knew?
BIOLOGY II
“We really did that? Count?”
Leon gazed up at the fading image in the sky over a darkened L.A. and felt awe for the first time in a while.
“Yes, my dear detective, we did.”
“So, what’s our next kid going to look like? How many heads?”
LANGUAGE ARTS
“That poor shit’s apartment was all shiny and soulless. Not like this place, where everything’s old and used….warm.” The last was mutter, Leon looking away.
D paused in the midst of pouring tea and smiled fondly. He had a way with words, the philistine detective.
“Is that so, Leon?”
“Yeah, well…It’s better here.”
“And…?” D coaxed reluctant words from the man who sat in front of him, the curve of painted lips promising more warmth to come.
“I’d rather be here, alright? Jeezus, stop trying to make me say shit, D!”
PHYSICAL EDUCATION
Leon was doing pushups, Army-style, on the bedroom floor. He did this every morning, pretty much every morning of the year.
D surveyed the sweaty detective from his nest of covers in the rumpled bed. He knew the routine down pat: 50 sit ups, 150 push ups, 100 jumping jacks and all manner of amusing stretches, before and after. Then Leon would take a shower and start his day.
The push ups were D’s favorite, by far, because sometimes Leon asked him to lie on his back while he did them, and then the routine would be happily abandoned for a romp on the floor.
MATHEMATICS
“So, how old am I, really?” Leon adjusted his tie at the mirror, glancing at D’s reflection.
“Do the math, Leon. How many years have we been in Tokyo?”
D peered at himself and then tucked his hair behind his ears. His was a bow tie, which he’d tied himself with deft fingers while Leon watched in amazement.
“Let’s see…um, twenty-one, maybe. It was spring, wasn’t it? What, almost five years till Alex, and then Mei is sixteen now, so that makes it at least twenty-one.”
“…”
“Shit, I’m fifty-one, D! Bet I’m the best looking old guy you ever saw!”
“Twenty-nine, Mr. Detective. Barely.” D put a finger out and drew a tiny heart on Leon’s freshly shaved face. His eyes glittered with unconcealed love in the mirror’s reflection, but Leon was busy gazing at the real thing.
“Hey…” Leon grabbed the finger and sucked on it suggestively and then leaned in for a real kiss. It was meant to be quick one; meant to be, but it heated up a little too fast and they were both breathing hard when he pulled away. “Hey,” he murmured against D’s lips, “do we still have time?”
“Oh, yes, Leon. Lots of time -- hours…days...as much as you’ll ever need.”
“No, I mean before we have to leave-“ D laid his damp finger across Leon’s open mouth and smiled flirtatiously.
“Twenty minutes. Just enough.”
HOME ECONOMICS
D surveyed the pastries and cakes he’d spent hours purchasing this afternoon. He’d then carefully laid them all out in a delectable array on his favorite China five-tiered cake rack. There were Baba au Rhum cakes, Chocolate Savoyard, Mint Delice in golden foil and Cream Horns sprinkled with curls of Belgian chocolate. The sweet bounty was plentiful: Napoleons (Leon’s favorite), Choux Chantilly, Petite Kirsch Buchette for Pon-chan and Strawberry Tartes, all arranged delightfully on the top levels of the rack. He also bought an Opera Cake, an Ambassador Cake and a Lemon Roulade, sliced them all prettily into triangles and placed them artistically on the lower, larger tiers, interspersed with fresh raspberries and blackberries, mint leaves and sprigs of lavender. It was stunning, the display - a gourmand’s dream, amidst the pale pink cabbage roses and the ecru lace.
The tea he’d chosen was Kuma Saza, for Leon’s digestion, as the irresponsible lout had been out drinking till nearly morning with Byakko, the Black Dragon and Sohki. There was a White Peony Fujian Green for the rest of them and a pot of Oolong, his favorite jasmine-scented, especially for him.
The silver tea service was Victorian, Reed & Barton, 1876, courtesy of Grandfather. The cups, saucers and plates were Limoges Red Chintz, very lovely, very delicate and without a single crack or chip. He handled them carefully, gracefully, though he longed to slam them into the tea table and smash them to bits. Leon hadn’t called, hadn’t apologized, hadn’t uttered a single word. He’d just fallen face first into bed this morning and passed out snoring, dead to the world.
That crass, uncaring bastard. That heartless, cold, lazy son of a-son of a - son of a human! Rude! Thoughtless! Inconsiderate! When D closed his eyes in disgust he could see Leon, still arguing even when he must have realized he was totally in the wrong.
D shook his head sharply, setting his hair in motion so that it caught the light and reflected blue.
The stupid man would pay for this somehow; D would make sure of it. He’d rip out that blind, foolish man’s heart and nail it to the wall as a warning - no more sex, no more kisses, no more nothing till Leon crawled on bended knees and apologized!
Not even one little smile till Leon realized exactly what he’d done….
Chink!
First chip in a century-and-a half. For some reason the jagged little gap made D want to cry, and the vision of his Victorian High Tea became blurry before his watery eyes. His pale face crumpled into lines of pure misery and he clutched the teacup to his aching chest and tried not to wail. Not that it would wake Leon; he was too far gone in sodden sleep to hear.
But D wished that it would wake his detective, so he could rant at him and call him every one of the vicious, belittling names he’d thought of, stranded alone in their big bed for the best part of last night.
He had been so angry, so worried…so petrified with fear. What if Leon disappeared - stumbled drunk in front of a car, or missed the wending path back home? What if he were really so angry that he simply chose not to return? The words had been hard this time…maybe more than they could bear. This second chance - chance-in-a-million, really - was still too new, too fragile to test, although it bound him with spun steel bonds, as if he’d been the one to sign the Contract and gamble away his immortal soul. Thus, it took very little to destroy his composure even after a year.
Very little, indeed. If Leon had turned back last night instead of going out to drown his anger in alcohol - but he had not. As of old, D had immediately turned to things of beauty, objects of transient sweetness to soothe his jangled nerves. And to his Pets, who had mobbed him all morning with constant comforting contact, till he could bear no more and simply had to escape. The hand whose touch he wanted most was attached the thoughtless asshole in his bed.
He had shopped with a vengeance and bought miraculous confections of sugar and cream, flour and fruit and chocolate, butter and berries and citrus, more than any of them could hope to consume. He’d gotten out the special service, polished silver and laid the tablecloth and not once did he go to the bedroom door or even consider it. Instead he’d created a beautiful table, a most delectable tea.
If the asshole would come out and share it, then D would forgive him.
Just this once.
CALCULUS
The tub seemed to be a little larger than the last time they’d tried this. It was also softer somehow, which was something porcelain shouldn’t do.
It helped, though. He was able to get purchase on the spigot end wall and not bang his butt and balls painfully into the metal when he shoved his cock into D twitching rosy hole, at exactly the right angle for maximum effect. D wriggled his sweet hot ass in the humid air and took it with pleasure, swallowing Leon whole, and then whimpered when he pulled out his cock almost all the way out, teasing. Leon rammed home, deeper, harder, and D sucked him in, fingernails futilely scraping the tile and babbling, begging pleas issuing from that perfect mouth.
Leon wished he could kiss D, shove his tongue down that throat, take him two ways till he was limp and enervated in Leon’s arms. He fucked him harder, instead, and D bowed his head and arched his back and screamed under the onslaught. Leon pumped and plunged and D matched him every time, sloppily shoving back to meet Leon’s cock, spewing Chinese for “do me harder” and “I love you, Leon” in an unending hoarse whisper.
Leon found the right rhythm and could have gone on all night, but D was sucking air after a few minutes, so hard and tight his skin was near splitting, and when Leon ran a wet hand over his cock lightly, he came, just like that. D’s cum clouded the cooling water and Leon grabbed him and hauled him up, still banging away, and turned his shuddering body, setting him gingerly on slippery knees. D arched back and Leon took his willing, panting mouth and kissed him hard as he came, that last twisting, spiraling thrust sending him over the edge into carnal fulfillment. D surged up a little, buoyed by the force of Leon’s cum, and then subsided limply into his lover’s embracing arms. They trembled in the water, making tiny roiling waves, and held each other gently and then hard, damp skin pressing, sliding in the effort to stay ‘one.’
“Again,” D said after a little while, when Leon was washing his hair. He had a different Sutra in mind.
Pairing: Leon X D
WC: huh?
Off to NYC this morning, soon as I get my act together. Manga store & thai food and chocolate croissants in Grand Central! Please leave me a comment if you have a moment, do. Have a great holiday if you are having one and if not, just a pleasant day!
Course Descriptions of Classes Taken by Leon and Count D:
CHEMISTRY
“You’ll stay the night? Protect me, Detective?”
Clinging to broad shoulders, he looked up and disarmed the flustered detective with a flutter of eyelashes and a longing, amorous gaze.
“What? You think he’s coming back or something?”
The tall blonde shied in his arms, scenting for danger - or at least, the threat. He didn’t like other guys touching his stuff.
“Well…no. Not tonight. It’s only….”
There was a nose in his ear, breathing. A hot mouth nuzzling his neck. Hungry lips brushing his skin and sending little thrills down his spine.
“Only?”
“It’s better with you, my dear detective.”
BIOLOGY I
So, ok, he was gay now. Gay. Homo. Pansy. The guy with the tittie posters all over his walls.
Well, yeah, if wanting to suck someone’s dick and shove his own right up their sweet ass meant gay, then he was flamer, no doubt about it.
Hell, he’d even take it, on hands and knees and liking it, if that would make D happy.
Gay, huh. Who knew?
BIOLOGY II
“We really did that? Count?”
Leon gazed up at the fading image in the sky over a darkened L.A. and felt awe for the first time in a while.
“Yes, my dear detective, we did.”
“So, what’s our next kid going to look like? How many heads?”
LANGUAGE ARTS
“That poor shit’s apartment was all shiny and soulless. Not like this place, where everything’s old and used….warm.” The last was mutter, Leon looking away.
D paused in the midst of pouring tea and smiled fondly. He had a way with words, the philistine detective.
“Is that so, Leon?”
“Yeah, well…It’s better here.”
“And…?” D coaxed reluctant words from the man who sat in front of him, the curve of painted lips promising more warmth to come.
“I’d rather be here, alright? Jeezus, stop trying to make me say shit, D!”
PHYSICAL EDUCATION
Leon was doing pushups, Army-style, on the bedroom floor. He did this every morning, pretty much every morning of the year.
D surveyed the sweaty detective from his nest of covers in the rumpled bed. He knew the routine down pat: 50 sit ups, 150 push ups, 100 jumping jacks and all manner of amusing stretches, before and after. Then Leon would take a shower and start his day.
The push ups were D’s favorite, by far, because sometimes Leon asked him to lie on his back while he did them, and then the routine would be happily abandoned for a romp on the floor.
MATHEMATICS
“So, how old am I, really?” Leon adjusted his tie at the mirror, glancing at D’s reflection.
“Do the math, Leon. How many years have we been in Tokyo?”
D peered at himself and then tucked his hair behind his ears. His was a bow tie, which he’d tied himself with deft fingers while Leon watched in amazement.
“Let’s see…um, twenty-one, maybe. It was spring, wasn’t it? What, almost five years till Alex, and then Mei is sixteen now, so that makes it at least twenty-one.”
“…”
“Shit, I’m fifty-one, D! Bet I’m the best looking old guy you ever saw!”
“Twenty-nine, Mr. Detective. Barely.” D put a finger out and drew a tiny heart on Leon’s freshly shaved face. His eyes glittered with unconcealed love in the mirror’s reflection, but Leon was busy gazing at the real thing.
“Hey…” Leon grabbed the finger and sucked on it suggestively and then leaned in for a real kiss. It was meant to be quick one; meant to be, but it heated up a little too fast and they were both breathing hard when he pulled away. “Hey,” he murmured against D’s lips, “do we still have time?”
“Oh, yes, Leon. Lots of time -- hours…days...as much as you’ll ever need.”
“No, I mean before we have to leave-“ D laid his damp finger across Leon’s open mouth and smiled flirtatiously.
“Twenty minutes. Just enough.”
HOME ECONOMICS
D surveyed the pastries and cakes he’d spent hours purchasing this afternoon. He’d then carefully laid them all out in a delectable array on his favorite China five-tiered cake rack. There were Baba au Rhum cakes, Chocolate Savoyard, Mint Delice in golden foil and Cream Horns sprinkled with curls of Belgian chocolate. The sweet bounty was plentiful: Napoleons (Leon’s favorite), Choux Chantilly, Petite Kirsch Buchette for Pon-chan and Strawberry Tartes, all arranged delightfully on the top levels of the rack. He also bought an Opera Cake, an Ambassador Cake and a Lemon Roulade, sliced them all prettily into triangles and placed them artistically on the lower, larger tiers, interspersed with fresh raspberries and blackberries, mint leaves and sprigs of lavender. It was stunning, the display - a gourmand’s dream, amidst the pale pink cabbage roses and the ecru lace.
The tea he’d chosen was Kuma Saza, for Leon’s digestion, as the irresponsible lout had been out drinking till nearly morning with Byakko, the Black Dragon and Sohki. There was a White Peony Fujian Green for the rest of them and a pot of Oolong, his favorite jasmine-scented, especially for him.
The silver tea service was Victorian, Reed & Barton, 1876, courtesy of Grandfather. The cups, saucers and plates were Limoges Red Chintz, very lovely, very delicate and without a single crack or chip. He handled them carefully, gracefully, though he longed to slam them into the tea table and smash them to bits. Leon hadn’t called, hadn’t apologized, hadn’t uttered a single word. He’d just fallen face first into bed this morning and passed out snoring, dead to the world.
That crass, uncaring bastard. That heartless, cold, lazy son of a-son of a - son of a human! Rude! Thoughtless! Inconsiderate! When D closed his eyes in disgust he could see Leon, still arguing even when he must have realized he was totally in the wrong.
D shook his head sharply, setting his hair in motion so that it caught the light and reflected blue.
The stupid man would pay for this somehow; D would make sure of it. He’d rip out that blind, foolish man’s heart and nail it to the wall as a warning - no more sex, no more kisses, no more nothing till Leon crawled on bended knees and apologized!
Not even one little smile till Leon realized exactly what he’d done….
Chink!
First chip in a century-and-a half. For some reason the jagged little gap made D want to cry, and the vision of his Victorian High Tea became blurry before his watery eyes. His pale face crumpled into lines of pure misery and he clutched the teacup to his aching chest and tried not to wail. Not that it would wake Leon; he was too far gone in sodden sleep to hear.
But D wished that it would wake his detective, so he could rant at him and call him every one of the vicious, belittling names he’d thought of, stranded alone in their big bed for the best part of last night.
He had been so angry, so worried…so petrified with fear. What if Leon disappeared - stumbled drunk in front of a car, or missed the wending path back home? What if he were really so angry that he simply chose not to return? The words had been hard this time…maybe more than they could bear. This second chance - chance-in-a-million, really - was still too new, too fragile to test, although it bound him with spun steel bonds, as if he’d been the one to sign the Contract and gamble away his immortal soul. Thus, it took very little to destroy his composure even after a year.
Very little, indeed. If Leon had turned back last night instead of going out to drown his anger in alcohol - but he had not. As of old, D had immediately turned to things of beauty, objects of transient sweetness to soothe his jangled nerves. And to his Pets, who had mobbed him all morning with constant comforting contact, till he could bear no more and simply had to escape. The hand whose touch he wanted most was attached the thoughtless asshole in his bed.
He had shopped with a vengeance and bought miraculous confections of sugar and cream, flour and fruit and chocolate, butter and berries and citrus, more than any of them could hope to consume. He’d gotten out the special service, polished silver and laid the tablecloth and not once did he go to the bedroom door or even consider it. Instead he’d created a beautiful table, a most delectable tea.
If the asshole would come out and share it, then D would forgive him.
Just this once.
CALCULUS
The tub seemed to be a little larger than the last time they’d tried this. It was also softer somehow, which was something porcelain shouldn’t do.
It helped, though. He was able to get purchase on the spigot end wall and not bang his butt and balls painfully into the metal when he shoved his cock into D twitching rosy hole, at exactly the right angle for maximum effect. D wriggled his sweet hot ass in the humid air and took it with pleasure, swallowing Leon whole, and then whimpered when he pulled out his cock almost all the way out, teasing. Leon rammed home, deeper, harder, and D sucked him in, fingernails futilely scraping the tile and babbling, begging pleas issuing from that perfect mouth.
Leon wished he could kiss D, shove his tongue down that throat, take him two ways till he was limp and enervated in Leon’s arms. He fucked him harder, instead, and D bowed his head and arched his back and screamed under the onslaught. Leon pumped and plunged and D matched him every time, sloppily shoving back to meet Leon’s cock, spewing Chinese for “do me harder” and “I love you, Leon” in an unending hoarse whisper.
Leon found the right rhythm and could have gone on all night, but D was sucking air after a few minutes, so hard and tight his skin was near splitting, and when Leon ran a wet hand over his cock lightly, he came, just like that. D’s cum clouded the cooling water and Leon grabbed him and hauled him up, still banging away, and turned his shuddering body, setting him gingerly on slippery knees. D arched back and Leon took his willing, panting mouth and kissed him hard as he came, that last twisting, spiraling thrust sending him over the edge into carnal fulfillment. D surged up a little, buoyed by the force of Leon’s cum, and then subsided limply into his lover’s embracing arms. They trembled in the water, making tiny roiling waves, and held each other gently and then hard, damp skin pressing, sliding in the effort to stay ‘one.’
“Again,” D said after a little while, when Leon was washing his hair. He had a different Sutra in mind.