Delicate Fire

By Mizu | mail | www

Atobe Keigo's twelfth birthday had been marked with a lavish celebration - as all of his birthdays before had been, and all of his birthdays afterwards would be. Keigo was, after all, the only child of one of the richest men in Japan, and doted on by his entire family. Each milestone had to be celebrated in the most impressive manner possible. Everyone was invited from Keigo's classmates and teachers to his father's business associates.

Sakaki Tarou fell into both categories; he taught Keigo music, of course, and he'd also done some business with the Atobe Group, so it was only natural that he was invited.

He was brilliant and charming, of course, a natural conversationalist with exquisite manners. He first wished Keigo a happy birthday and gave him his present - a volume of Sappho's poetry in the original Greek - before walking off to charm Keigo's mother and grandmother, leaving the twelve-year-old to his other well wishers.

Keigo stared after him with confused blue eyes. He'd known, of course, that Sakaki was coming, because Sakaki not only taught him piano, but also had done business with his father before, and so of course Sakaki would attend his birthday. And it wasn't entirely unusual for adults to simply give Keigo their wishes before retreating to speak to the other adults; so many of them still considered Atobe Keigo to be a child. But he had thought that Sakaki had known differently.

Keigo had spent the summer anticipating Sakaki's touches, arching under them when the man stroked his hand up under his shirt, his fingers playing across Keigo's soft and sensitive skin. It had been confusing. Not because Sakaki had wanted to touch Keigo - Keigo knew he was beautiful, that the blend of Japanese and European features made people stare - it was surprising because Sakaki ignored all the possible consequences and touched the young boy anyway.

Keigo glared down at the cover of the book. He could recognize the letters, of course, he'd been studying Greek for over a year, but the words... he didn't recognize some of them. He set it on the pile of the other presents and tossed his hair back, turning to the group of awe-stricken girls from his class with a slow smile.

If Sakaki were going to ignore him, Keigo thought as he flirted with the gaggle of awkward little girls, then he would do the same. His birthday wasn't going to ruined by it.

He determinedly ignored the man until it got late, and all his classmates and friends had gone home.

That was the way all of his birthdays were, Keigo thought as he leaned back against the cushions of the Italian leather sofa in the great room. His parents invited everyone they knew as well as everyone he knew, and the party never ended when the children had to go home - it just changed.

Keigo glanced over at the table, piled high with gifts, and reached out to snag the thin volume off the top of the pile. "Sappho," he murmured to himself. He hadn't read any of that yet, but he remembered his Greek tutor blushing a little when she mentioned that poet.

He'd barely flipped open the book when he heard a familiar voice behind him, deep and smooth. "Have you ever read her before?"

Keigo glanced up and shook his head. "No," he said. "I only started studying Greek last year." His mouth twisted into a smirk. "Shouldn't you be over there?" he asked, indicating the laughing and drinking group across the room with an elegant wave of his hand.

"Mmm," Sakaki said noncommittally, reading over Keigo's shoulder. "Not really. Have you practiced today?" he asked.

"Early this morning," Keigo murmured. "Before the party started."

"I see," Sakaki returned, and Keigo shivered as his breath fluttered across the sensitive skin of his neck. "You should practice again. I want to hear you."

Keigo nodded, and he could feel his face flush with heat. The way Sakaki's voice made him feel, when the teacher murmured close to his ear like that... it confused him. It made him shiver with want of something he couldn't define.

The music room at the Atobe house was nearly as large as the great room downstairs, and during the day it was flooded with warm light. But it wasn't day now; it was night, and the only light in the room came from the warm lamp in the corner by the bookshelves. Keigo sighed as he sat at the glossy black grand piano, settling on the seat and leafing through the sheets still on the stand. He could feel Sakaki's gaze on him, he thought, but he still wasn't sure exactly what that stare meant.

"The Wagner, I think," murmured Sakaki as he gracefully sat next to the young boy. Keigo nodded, and his fingers descended on the keyboard, picking out the complicated melodies and harmonies as Sakaki watched him, his fingers playing with the loose ends of Keigo's light brown hair.

Keigo shivered as he felt Sakaki touch him, long musician's fingers light and gentle on his skin as they slipped up under Keigo's shirt and played across his back before the man's arm curved around his waist. He gasped as he felt fingertips flick across his nipples, but continued to play, his fingers never faltering on the keys.

"I think that's enough," Sakaki whispered, sliding his hands away from Keigo's skin. The boy shuddered as he lifted his hands from the keys and turned to face his teacher. "Sensei," he moaned as the older man's lips closed over his. "My parents are downstairs... "

"The door's locked," Sakaki returned, his voice a low whisper against Keigo's lips as his fingers quickly release the buttons on the boy's shirt, revealing pale skin to his gaze.

"But... " protested Keigo as his hands fisted in Sakaki's jacket. Sakaki's kisses felt unbelievably good, he thought, and he loved the feel of his teacher's hands on his skin... but it scared him. He wasn't ready for that kind of feeling yet.

"Shh, Keigo," Sakaki purred as he pushed the thin, pale violet silk over Keigo's slender shoulders. He traced his tongue down the tendon in Keigo's exposed throat, smiling when the boy shuddered in his arms, squirming from the unexpected sensation. "You'll like this."

Keigo's only response was a low moan as he felt Sakaki's tongue trace its way down his chest, pausing to suck at his nipples before trailing lower. He gasped and his hand crashed against the keys, the discordant sound filling the room.

"S- Sensei," he managed as he felt the teacher's teeth nipping at the delicate skin just above the waist of his pants. "Why are you... doing this?"

Why, he wondered as Sakaki gently pulled his hand away from the piano and closed the cover, wasn't he really trying to stop him?

He drew in a sharp breath as Sakaki thumbed up the button holding his pants closed and lowered the zipper. "Sensei," he moaned again as the man's knuckles brushed up against him. There was no longer much protest in his voice, and he shifted on the bench, staring up at Sakaki with huge eyes, the usual summer blue darkened with desire.

"Stand up," Sakaki commanded, and Keigo obeyed, leaning forward, his elbows resting on the glossy black surface of the piano as Sakaki pushed his pants and his underwear to the floor in one smooth motion. Hr shivered as Sakaki ran his hand over the curve of Keigo's ass. "So beautiful," the man murmured in his ear. "And you wonder why I want you?"

Keigo only bit his lip and squeezed his eyes shut as he felt one of Sakaki's long fingers penetrate him. "It... hurts," he whimpered softly, and it did. No one had ever touched him there, and it burned.

"It'll be better soon," Sakaki murmured, stroking the boy deep inside before adding another finger. Keigo gasped and struggled under him as Sakaki started to stretch him. "Think of something else. Did you read the poetry I gave you?" he asked.

Keigo shook his head wildly, and tears streamed from his tightly shut eyes. "No," he stammered. "I didn't... know all the words."

"Ahh," purred Sakaki as he pushed his fingers deeper, pressing against a spot that made Keigo gasp aloud. "I know her poetry from memory, you know. I think you'll like it."

He spread his fingers apart inside Keigo, stretching the young boy wide. "Like �... And my tongue is struck silent, a delicate fire suddenly races underneath my skin,'" he murmured as the boy writhed and gasped underneath him.

Sakaki began to pull his fingers free, chuckling as Keigo arched his back, thrusting back on the retreating digits. "'... My eyes see nothing, my ears whistle like the whirling of a top,'" he continued as he nibbled gently at the nape of Keigo's neck.

"Lovely, isn't it?" he whispered just before his mouth began to trail down Keigo's back, nibbling and licking at his shoulders and the long arch of his spine. "Sappho had a thorough understanding of sexual emotion," he continued in a low murmur, his breath fluttering across the small of Keigo's back. "She wrote of women, but what she said is so universal, I think." He paused and spread the cheeks of Keigo's ass wide. "You need to be quiet now," he ordered. "Or someone will hear you downstairs."

And then he bent his head, and his tongue was wet and searingly hot on Keigo's opening, swirling around before stabbing inside. Keigo shuddered and struggled under the assault, biting down on his hand to stifle his cries. This was too much, he thought wildly, it was too intense for him to take.

He collapsed onto his arms when Sakaki finally released him, raw, needy sobs shaking his body. "Please," he whimpered softly. "Please, just... "

"Shh," Sakaki murmured, and Keigo heard the very soft hiss of a zipper being lowered before Sakaki's hands at his hips pulled him back and he felt something much harder and hotter pressing at his entrance.

Keigo's eyes flared wide and he struggled as Sakaki pressed inside him. "Sensei," he sobbed quietly. "Please... it hurts... "

"I know," murmured Sakaki, "but it'll stop soon."

He moved slowly inside the slender boy, until his struggles ceased and his whimpers of pain shifted to pleasure. "See?" he whispered in Keigo's ear as the young boy started to thrust back in time with his strokes, "I told you you'd like it."

Keigo didn't reply, just arched in Sakaki's arms as he felt the man wrap long fingers around his cock and stroke him, rubbing his fingertips across the head. "Please," he hissed. "Sensei ... I want... "

"I know," Sakaki said, his voice a silky murmur in Keigo's ear as he pressed in deeper, rubbing against something that made Keigo shiver and bite down on his lip to stifle a loud cry. He ran his hand over the boy's cock, pumping and stroking. "Let go, Keigo," he said.

Keigo stiffened in his arms, and his head fell back as the stars shattered behind his eyes. "Sen... sei... " he managed in a voice that wanted to be a scream, but was barely a whisper. "Sensei ... "

And then he collapsed against his teacher, shuddering and shaking as Sakaki thrust inside one last time, clenching his hands around the young boy's hips and hissing Keigo's name as he exploded inside him.

He'd wanted Keigo the moment the boy had stepped into his music room almost two years before, he thought a few minutes later as he scooped the delicate child into his arms and sank down on the sofa across the room. But he hadn't ever expected that Keigo would make him feel this much.

It would, he mused as he trailed a fingertip down the length of Keigo's cheek, be fascinating - everything with Atobe Keigo would be that, if nothing else.


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