Ryuu's Room

Through the halls of modern mixed with old fashion he led Foster to his play pen or better known as his room (or perhaps a small apartment – it was amazing it didn’t have a kitchen). Walls in plain white with miscellaneous photographs of random cities bustling with cars and life, right down to simple images of one thing or another, depending on what the eye interpreted and the wooden floor coated only a few rugs (one in off white, another a deep red) to prevent scratches from his furnishings. A cream sectional rested before a black, glass top table with a large television far enough not to make one go blind. Just past it, about 100 feet, a staircase of only five steps led to his bed, a king platform with a wooden, black base and burgundy comforter with matching feather pillows. And of course a grand desk near the grand windows for extra light (at least that was the excuse, surprisingly he simply enjoyed nature) for the absurd job of financial advisor. Floor to ceiling bookcases sat to the right, which were complete stuffed with books and a few ransom sculptures. Extravagant? Definitely, yet this was typical of all the rooms in the Alculard mansion, the individual rooms each with one’s flavor and the others never changing over the generations.

Though it didn’t happen often, Ryuu did get worn out and this was his sanctuary, his place to relax and take it easy for once in his life. It was rare he brought anyone here, yet Foster seemed to be the exception to everything. He was the one person Ryuu kept coming back to, even if he had played around a few hours before or when boredom began to suffocate him. Foster was his second sanctuary, though he would never admit it, not even to himself.

“Please close the door behind you,” he spoke softly as he opened headed toward the couch, “and make yourself at home.” Ryuu smiled politely, but didn’t turn to share it with Foster. Instead, he continued on his path while unbuttoning his coat and sliding it off. It draped it over the arm of a chair that matched the sectional and slinked past to cozy up in the corner of the couch. “Pick your poison, desk or table?” His left hand gestured to the areas as he spoke the words. A grin turn the corner of his lips, “And I will leave you alone until you’re done.” He was quite sick of repeating himself, but he felt the need to reassure Foster as many times as possible.

Foster walked into the ridiculously large room and stood near the owner of such a room. He sighed as he looked around. He was sure he had been here once or twice before. He wasn’t completely sure though. He took in the white walls. The photos of different things, the large bed, large television, and large windows where the other things he noticed in the place. He heard the question and pondered his answer. Table or desk… He made a choice. ”Desk I guess…” He said as he slid his leather bag off his shoulder and made his way to the desk. Pulled out a pencil and a random piece of homework. He had pulled out math. Great.. He hated math. He sat down. He had not bothered to take off his leather jacket and was slowly getting hotter. He looked at his homework for a few moments before he began to work out the useless problems. He hated this kind of work. He let his mind drift towards less appropriate actions. He smirked.

Leaning forward he grabbed the remote off the glass top table and turned the television on as he returned to snuggle into the couch cushions. As he turned down the sound to a shallow hum he peeked over his shoulder to Foster rummaging at the desk. Of course, he only got a shot of his back coated in leather, which was still sexy and made the member between his legs lively up only slightly. He learned how to control his pretty friend and keep him sleeping until the time was right, though it didn’t stop the thoughts wandering through his head and the imaginary fingers dancing on his skin.

Be patient, he snapped at himself, you promised. He slunk down, head hitting a decorative pillow and legs came up, bending at the knees so he could cross the left over right. Silvery blues stared up at the plain ceiling, attempting to drown the lewd thoughts. Unsuccessful, arms folded under his head and he huffed. Being good was not as simple as he thought.

Foster looked at his homework with a fustrated sigh. It could be so damn hard sometimes. He suddenly wished Porter was there to do it for him. The young man hated homework with a passion. Expectially math, forest green eyes scanned over the math problems. In truth, a middle schooler could do this. Pencil met paper as he worked out what should be really easy problems for him. 4 to the 8th power times 7 to the 12th power. Foster groaned and pushed the paper aside. Giving up on the sheet, he realised he was pretty much done with everything else. He had done it back in his room while he was supposed to be sleeping. Finally Foster just gave up all together and stood up so he could take off his jacket cause it was making him so hot. It slid off to reveal a tight black shirt that matched his dark wash skinny jeans. Sliding the unfinished assignment into the book back, Foster then turned and walked over to his host and sat down beside him. "Done." He said. The younger one hadn't techically lied really. He was done doing him homework for now. He didn't feel like just sitting there and doing boring homework at the moment when he could do something much more entertaining.

He heard the rustling near the desk, but didn’t bother to look over; Foster was busy with other things after all. Then the floor creaked and the soft sound of his steps came closer. What the hell? Eyes shifted from the ceiling and he pushed his head back to peer over the armrest at the other end of the couch. For a moment, nothing was there, Maybe the restroom? Just as his eyes shifted left, Foster came around and beside him. His must have looked silly with his legs draped over the back of the couch and his head on the seat cushion, though the only thing that mattered was he was comfy.

“So soon?” He asked, peering at him upside down, a grin spreading across his lips.

Foster chuckled slightly at Ryuu's position. "Comfty? And yes. Not that you mind, do you? The sooner the better, right?" He asked as he cracked his fingers. He was much cooler now that he had shed his jacket. He ran a hand through his silky black locks and studied the one beside him. "Shall we continue" He said with a dangerous smirk. He was after all rather eager. It was obvious since he had a tent in his jeans. The fabric was restraining and becoming rather painful. He drummed his long elegant fingers on his tight jeans. Perverted images and thoughts ran through the man's mind as he felt his pants get even more uncomfortable. Stretching his legs he snuggled into the comfortable couch. Foster studied the room with curious green eyes. His nose twitched and his fingers flexed anxiously. He curled his toes so they would crack making his sigh in content. This was one comfortable couch.

So his pet needed it as much as he did, exciting. It wasn’t any time at all, but he wanted him so bad if felt like hours since he laid eyes on him. His eyes moved from Foster’s face, his head rolled to the side as he traced down his form to where his hands toyed lightly upon his jeans. His tongue slid over his lower lips, sucking it before a wider grin stretched across pale pinks. “I am quite comfy, but I remember being much more comfortable earlier,” brows lifted teasingly and he rolled onto his stomach, propping himself on his forearms. “But you’ll have to remind me where we left off,” a sultry voice trickled out and blues took a quick look up through dark lashes, “I can’t seem to remember that portion.”