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12 December 2008 @ 06:22 pm
An Excerpt From the Journal of Walachia von Fursten:

The nerve of that undead beast! Her shambling minon knocked me out with a single blow- and then she failed to kill me! It is an insult! Worse, she seemed concerned by what she had done! Why!?! It is a fact that the scourge knows no pity or mercy or love! I have lived my entire life, trained everyday so that, immersed myself in the black arts that will surly stain my soul, all so that I might lay to rest the Undead.(And all who uppose the Alliance!) and yet it takes but a single blow from the pet of the first rotting zombie I come across to send me into unconsciousness. I burn with fury and shame! What will become of me now!

Indeed, I seem to be spending as much time unconscious as awake in Westfall. I rather think that I should further hone my skills before returning to this area.
08 December 2008 @ 06:39 pm
Wall could smell blood and decay over the stench of wine from the barrel that he had hid in for days. He could no longer hear the groans and moans of the living dead around him. He knew that he had not eaten for more then a day, but he felt no hunger. He thought that he would never be hungry ever again. “Taty, you stay here, I’m going to see if it’s safe”, he told the young girl clinging to him.

Slowly he raised the lid, and peaked outside. The cellar was untouched, the undead having no need of provisions. Young Wall made his way to the cellar door, and with all the strength his slender, nine year old body possessed, pushed it open. Immediately his frame was wracked by a coughing fit, as Wall breathed in the odor of soot. What had once been a prosperous manor house had been reduced to charred rubble. Exploring the area, the lad saw that the same was true of all the peasant’s houses, and the village church where he had learned his catechism, and his sister had resisted learning hers. All the fields were ruined by blight, the cattle, hogs, and sheep dead and cancerous. There would be no food from this land for the foreseeable future.

He was not surprised to find his father’s body at the entrance to the church, rent by claws and pierced by swords. His mother’s body was in the great hall of what had been the family keep, broken bow at her feet, and dagger in hand. In neither parent’s body was there a single wound in the back. Of his older brother, however, there was no sign.

Using tools improvised out of rubble, Wall gave his parent’s honorable graves, so that his sister would be spared the sight. It was hard work for the sickly boy, and after he was finished, he collapsed and had a coughing fit that ended with him spitting up blood, and then in disgust that he had held back, young Wallachia vomited, though he had eaten nothing, so he spat up nothing but acid. He knew, however, that as a Human Lord and a follower of the Light he had a duty to his sister, and so he ventured back down to the basement.

“Taty, you can come out” wall called. “The walking dead are all gone now” . Slowly, a blond haired girl of about seven climbed out of a wine barrel. One of her pigtails had come loose. “I’m sorry, but Mom and Dad are dead, and I can’t find Johann.” The child bust into tears at the news, and Wall tried to comfort his sister with a hug, but the tears he had kept inside himself burst forth in a torrent of grief.

Eventually, when there were no more tears to cry, the two children lay down, and slept an exhausted, fevered sleep. The next morning, they gathered up the supplies they could salvage from the keep’s basement, and decided to head to Stormwind to see if they could find work there.
09 March 2008 @ 06:11 pm
Filth – A 2x4x2 Adventure

Chapter 1: A Desert Snog

Quatre was uncomfterable. He was too polite to use stronger language, but he had been living rough in the desert with Duo for two weeks following the destruction of the Mauguanac base, which meant two weeks without water to wash in or food other then reconstituted rations. He was filthy with sand and sweat; he had never in his life gone so long between baths, or so hungry or thirsty. Duo's attitude of devil-may-care humor toward their plight ought to have been admirable, but was in fact acutely annoying – though Quatre hid his annoyance well.

Duo, on the other hand, was quite used to filth and starvation, and had a passing acquaintance with dehydration. Growing up "deprived of practically everything" on L2 had provided this practical education. He attempted to keep his new acquaintance's spirits through humor, a classic L2 technique.

One night, camping in the desert, their lives changed forever.

"I've never been so filthy in my life! How do you stand it?", complained Quatre.
"Well, we dun have 'nough water to wash, so we havfta stand it", replied Duo.
"I know that, but I don't need to like standing it."
"Noboddy LIKES being filthy or starving, Quatre, no-one does it by choice. That damn OZ blew our base, and so we're stuck in the desert. Fuck me if I dun try and lighten the mood a bit!"
"We are in a very serious situation here, and I fail to see how making jokes will improve it." This was said in a sharp tone, as close to angry as Quatre got.
Duo thought it prudent to change the subject. "Say, if ya dun mind me askin, why'd ya leave yer family and become a Gundam pilot anyways. Ya had a good life, why give that up."
"Some things are more important then life, Duo. If Oz takes over everything, my money will mean nothing and my pacifist father and sisters will never be safe."
"I getgcha; an I thin' that's just swell of ya. If I'd hada good life, I'm not shure I'd be willin ta give it up."
"Let's turn in. Tomorrow we should be able to get to a town, with a motel that will ask no questions if we push ourselves."
"Yeah…Ya know, I like you better like this, all dirty and nasty. It makes you seem more human, kinda."
"Really", said Quatre, and burst out laughing. Duo was puzzled by Quatre's sense of humor; Quat had ignored his jokes but laughed when he said that he liked Quatre better when he looked and smelled like a real guy rather then a rich brat. Still, his face, which was cute enough all the time, positively lit up when he smiled.

Before he could stop himself, Duo leaned over and kissed Quatre, full on the lips.

Quatre was shocked by this sudden intimacy, but not displeased. He kissed Duo back and opened his mouth. Their tongues caressed each other, tangling gleefully, as each tasted the plaque and grit of the other's mouth. All this was very familiar to Duo, but totally new for Quatre.

Duo ground his crotch into Quatre's and found that the blond princling was just as painfully hard as he himself was. Duo's stained and callused hands groped Quatre's crotch through the fabric of his dusty khaki trousers. Duo fumbled for Quat's zipper and pulled it down. The blond boy was wearing underwear, battered briefs that had once been white. Duo broke the kiss and ignored Quatre's little whine of disappointment, sliding down to investigate Quatre's lovely erection. He nuzzled his face in Quatre's briefs, while at the same time freeing his own meat with a dexterity born of long experience. Duo wore no underwear, he never did. He just didn't see the point of pants under your pants. They'd just be an extra thing to wash, and they itched.

Duo's dick was uncut, and he worked the foreskin back and forth over the head. He got harder and harder as his oral ministrations stimulated Quatre. Duo flicked his adept and sensitive tongue over the spongy head of Quatre's cock. Being a Moslem, the Arab boy was cut, and therefore did not produce precome. His cock tasted of skin and sweat, with a light undertone of smegma. And then suddenly there was a sharp salty tang that had to be Quatre's semen, less greasy and less bitter then most men that Duo had sucked, and the braided boy swallowed it down eagerly.

Duo worked his cock rapidly after that, foreskin rubbing up and down over the sensitive head. Duo's rubbing soon allowed him to join Quatre in orgasm-land. He came in an energetic fountain, not having had time to 'rub one out' for the past few days.

After their mutual bliss in the desert heat, the two boys took some time to recover.

"Wow", said Quatre, "That felt great! … but why did you do that."

"Well, "yer cute, an I wanted to do ya ever since I firs laid eyes an yah", drawled Duo, with a wide Cheshire-cat grin.

"Does that mean that you fell in love with me at first sight?", asked Quatre, with a kind of puppy-dog eagerness.

Duo was taken aback. For Duo, who had been a child prostitute, sex had never had much to do with love. Duo didn't really even believe in love. Sex was either an expression of power and control, a good to be sold, or, as in this case, a simple, fun thing to share between friends. Love had never entered into his calculations.

"I dunno" said Duo, looking down at his feet after a long pause. "I'm not sure I'd know love if it walked up to me in an OZ uniform and tol' me I was under arrest."

Quatre thought that was funny in one way, and very sad in another, but did not know quite what to say, and so kept silent, but his heart reached out to Duo's heart, and Quatre knew that there was love within it, if only the other boy could let it out.

"Let's talk about this in the morning, Duo. For now, we should turn in, for the sun is setting and the desert will be cold at night, were his only words."

Duo and Quarte slept side by side that night, each pondering what the other had said in his heart.
13 August 2007 @ 05:37 pm
TITLE: Picking Up the Pieces - Ch 1, Poverty
RATING/WARNINGS: Overall, R, this chapter PG-13. Hints about past noncon.
PAIRING(S): Terry Boot/Draco. Later in the series Draco has a het romance.
BRIEF SUMMARY:Draco Malfoy has served his three month prison sentence for his actions in HBP and DH, now he has to work for a living. Horrors!

A year after HBPCollapse )
08 August 2007 @ 09:34 am
Title: Different Houses, Same Rivalry

Rating: PG - some naughty language and schoolyard violence

Pairing: Could be considered AS/S pre-slash, but basically gen.

Words: 276

Summary: Here's a little drabble that I wrote. It's not my actual vision for the relationship between Scorpius and A. Severus, but it was a weird idea that I thought I should put down. I wrote it in Greek class.

They Aren't Just Like THEIR Fathers!Collapse )
Title: “Special Cuddles”- The world’s first English-language Riku x Soma fanfic.
Author: Me
Fandom: Onmyou Taisenki
Pairing: Riku x Souma
Rating: Adults Only
Warnings: PWP, Foot Fetish, TwT (sometime before Riku goes to the Earth-Style building), Shota.

Here be Shota!!! DON'T Look if you Don't like that sort of thing!Collapse )

If anyone could tell me of other places to post this, I'd be grateful.
11 April 2007 @ 07:17 pm
Constructing Homosexuality in AC 195

See, I like settings, and I like to think about background, after being fed up with fics that had all the pilots shagging eachother or being sappily romantic with one another with nary a thought devoted to the reactions of the world around them. I came up with three ways people in the Wing-verse might look at gayness.

Option A- Regression: Society has regressed to the 1800s in all ways except technology. Therefore, no-one is ‘gay’. In western countries and L2 and L3 and perhaps L4, those who engage in homosexual acts are ‘sodomites’ and face severe social and perhaps legal sanctions; the public has no notion of sexual orientation, though queer persons themselves may have a notion of being different from normal men and women, and may see homosexuality as something permanent and consisting of feelings as well as acts. Queer persons probably have their own specialized slang. In non-western countries in this option, being the seme is acceptable for a man, and does not change a man’s heterosexuality. However, the uke is seen as having a different ‘sexual orientation’ from ‘normal men’ and is looked down on as useless and effeminate. So, Wu-Fei might have sex with Duo, then proceed to ignore everything he says and treat him as worthless or at least stupid thereafter. To Wu, Duo has become a ‘weak onna’. Duo would be puzzled, because to him, both pitching and catching are equally wrong. Yaoi fics set in such a G-verse could be very interesting, but constructing an entire clandestine gay society is a big project, and I for one would like to believe that society will progress rather then regressing.

Option B- Everyone is Bi: In this vision of the future, the glory of the GLBT rights movement was its dissolution. People are attracted to the people they are attracted to without regard to gender, and most people experience attractions to people of both genders at some time in their life. Some people may only find the same sex or the opposite sex attractive, but they do not think of themselves a minority; heterosexuality and homosexuality are kinks, like a foot fetish. All religions will marry two people of any combination of genders, and from the poor to the upper-middle class the ration of same sex to opposite sex couples is about 50/50. Nobles, royalty, and the mega-rich favor m/f unions for dynastic reasons, marriage in such circles is not about love, it’s a matter of business. However, there are probably technological work-abounds whereby a same-sex couple can conceive a child, after all, there are artificial wombs in GW canon. This is probably the most convenient option for yaoi fic, because it allows you to pair characters according to their compatibility with eachother without regard to gender. This is the only sort of setting where a fic with 1x2, 3x4, AND DxR* makes any sort of sense. However, even in this setting, I don’t think that most teenage boys would admit to bottoming. Some exceptionally macho subcultures, such as the street gangs of L2, insist on a very clearly defined seme and uke, and might even view the uke as a ‘woman with a dick’. I would say that this option is easiest to write badly, but the hardest to write well. It’s an effort to imagine a totally homophobia-free society. how are masculine anxieties are expressed without gay bashing, are dorm-rooms single-sex, what does a Catholic marriage between two men look like?

Option C- Like Today, More or Less: For whatever reason, things haven’t changed much since the early 21st century. Some people identify as gay, most people identify as straight, a very few people identify as bi. Some ‘straight’ people will have homosexual sex under certain circumstances.
Some societies accept gay people, some are violently anti-gay, most are in the middle. Some people are violently anti-gay, some are completely accepting, most are somewhat uneasy around gays. This option is probably easiest to write well, because we have the real world to research, and it is the only option for writers who want their fic to speak directly to contemporary issues, but shouldn’t Gundam Wing sex be as fantastic as Gundam Wing mecha?

*Yes, Dorothy is seme, in a mental and emotional sense, at least, and probably in a physical sense as well.
29 March 2007 @ 09:08 pm
Title: Swords and Words: A Tale of Two Friends
Author: yaoifunboi
Pairing: 6x9 in the narration, 6+13 (friendship) in the flashback in this chapter. For the uninitiated this means that the adult Zechs narrating the flashback has a relationship with Noin, and that little Zechs and little Treize are friends.
Rating: G here. The rating could go as high as R later on.
Warnings: More cuteness then you could shake a stick at. (AKA Sap)
Summary: A holodocumentary about Treize Kushrenada makes Millardo Peacecraft reminisce about his relationship with Treize, and the time he spent under the name Zechs Marquise in general. Milllardo is speaking from memories, some of them terribly distant, and so this story will have something of the ephemeral and disjointed quality of a memory.
Disclaimer: If I owned Gundam Wing, there’d be a wing of some place of higher learning named for me somewhere, and I would be on a Caribbean island, not enduring Ohio winters.

“Swords… when I was a child (that brief, blissful period), a sword was not a practical weapon, and most people thought that it never would be again. Fencing was a stylized sport for those with too much money and not enough sense. Missiles and lasers ruled the battlefields of Earth; infantry and armor were for holding ground, not taking it. Not that there had been a major war for a century. Now fencing is a staple of physical education classes, as a method of self-defense as well as exercise. The strip has been widened, and blows to the face are no longer off limits. Beam sabers and other melee energy weapons are necessary to MS combat- they are much more powerful then firearms because they are sustained rather then intermittent; and training with ordinary blades became part of basic training for MS pilots, then part of basic training for all officers. This return to close combat is a profound and positive thing; war is once again a noble, human contest”

That was enough- I turned off the holodocumentry; I would let no historical analysis sully my memory of that glorious speech on that glorious day!

I am Millardo Peacecraft, husband of Lucrezia Peacecraft, father of Walker and Otto Peacecraft, a rambunctious pair of first-generation Martians. Yet I will never forget Treize Kushrenada, and I am glad that there are others who keep his memory alive. Yet, everyone else (Except, perhaps, the dear Lady) is concerned with Treize the politician, Treize the symbol of an era. I am concerned with Treize the man.

Aye, Treize is dead, the Kushrenada family name will die when Maremaia marries, and violent era that he belonged to is a distant memory. In turn I have called Treize Kushrenada a ‘meanie’, ‘big brother’, ‘commander’, ‘friend’, and ‘more then a friend’, but the last time we met we met was across a battlefield, and we called each-other ‘mortal foes’.

Trieze wanted a beautiful, glorious life, and a beautiful meaningful death, and he did, in the end, get his wish. He got his death in honorable battle against a worthy foe, a foe that embodied his ideal of a soldier better then he ever did.
Treize cared about people, more than anything else. Even his precious roses and swords. But he never cared enough about himself!

I first met Treize when I was five and he was ten. Our fathers met about politics frequently; General-Duke Acturius Kushrenada was one of the leading liberals in Romafeller, and an old school-friend of my father’s. The General was of course no total pacifist, but he and old King Mohandas were allies in opposing the Alliance’s efforts to take over the colonies.
His only son, Treize, was given the task of keeping me amused and out of the way of the grownups. Relena was only an infant, and was consigned to a different wing of the palace with her wet nurse. Treize had freckles then, and braces, and his hair was a more fiery shade of red, not unlike Marimaia’s. His eyebrows were as wild as ever they were. My hair reached down to my collar, then. I remember that I wore a white sailor suit. Treize was still in short-pants then.

The first day of the Kushrenada’s visit was rainy, so we stayed indoors and read. We could have played with my RANT*, but there were no games that I had that Treize liked. I was could read books with chapters, and bragged about it, and then he told me that HE was reading The Wind in the Willows, a novel from before people went into space. I said that I bet I could read it, and Treize smirked and let me. I started reading the first chapter out loud, and Treize was shocked that I could read all the big words in English! I remember his exact words, “Thunderwater! A kindergartener and you can read a very old book in a language that is not your fatherland’s”. We were speaking German.

I giggled at Treize's comment, and reminded Treize “In Sank** most people speak French or German, but we Peacecrafts come from America, and Mommy was an English princess before she married Daddy.”

“Oh! So you speak English with your mother?” Treize asked. I nodded my head yes. “You are still a very remarkable boy”, he concluded.

“Thanks” I said, a bit shyly. I was very ready to defend my intelligence, and my family from all insults and all comers, but I took compliments less well, especially compliments from grownups. Remember that to a five year old a 10 year old seems practically an adult!
We read The Wind in the Willows aloud for the rest of the afternoon, each of us taking a chapter, and by dinnertime, Mr. Toad was in jail, and I had learned many new words (I could sound them out fairly well, and Treize would tell me the meanings). It was a very pleasant way for two boys to pass a rainy afternoon.

Dinner that night was a family affair, not a full court dinner, so Relena and Treize and I sat with our parents in the small dining-room. The whole room was painted a delicate pink and white; I hated it and thought it was girly. I had once told Daddy that, but daddy only laughed and told me that “my own mommy liked this room, and I keep it that way because I love her”. I was only a toddler at the time, so I simply boggled at the idea that Daddy had a mommy of his own. I remember we had asparagus soup at that meal; something I detested, that Relena managed to eat some peas, and that the grownups laughed a lot, and gushed over us children, but it all seemed fake to me somehow.

The next day of the Kushrenada’s visit to our home was taken up by affairs of state, which meant that I had to dress up in scratchy dress clothes, tolerate Nanny combing my hair (she always pulled too hard), and sit still while Treize’s Father and Daddy made very long speeches that I couldn’t really understand.

I remember Treize muttering to himself in German, but when I whispered to ask him what was wrong, he told me “you’re too young to understand, it’s politics, and it’s bad; your daddy is being silly, and Father only wants to help him.”

“Daddy is never silly!”, I declared, too loudly. I was firmly shushed by Nanny.

On the third day of the Kushrenada’s visit to Sank, all of us went fox hunting. That’s fox hunting with hounds, not with guns. An ancient saying referred to this pastime as “the unspeakable in pursuit of the inedible”, and as an adult both Treize and I preferred shooting, especially shooting pheasant and other game birds. But that one fox hunt in our childhoods was a wonderful thing. The thing about fox-hunting*** is that it is not just a sport for aristocrats. On the contrary, practically whole household is involved. The grooms ride out with the gentlemen and ladies, as does the Master of Foxhounds and the rest of the kennel staff. The Cook and the rest of the kitchen staff come out with a picnic luncheon, and the parlor staff help serve it. Really, the only people not involved in the ritual are the lady’s and gentlemen’s personal attendants and the butler, and they may ride with the hounds themselves, especially the butler; a butler is very close to being a Gentleman himself. Our butler, Pargan, did ride with us; he was a tall, pale young man; I didn’t think he was very nice because he never played with me or smiled at me.

On that blessed day it seemed like Mommy and Daddy were able to forget whatever was making them sad as everyone gallivanted over the Sancian countryside. Sank was a very green country then, with rolling hills and little brooks. I remember that the fox swam a little river, and Treize horrified his parents by jumping his pony over it rather then finding a bridge or swimming his pony. Daddy laughed, and followed Treize.

After the hunt, Treize and Daddy talked quietly for a bit. I had a PB&J sandwich with no crusts for dinner, and Treize had sliced egg. Odd the things that you remember. Treize and his family went home to Russia the next day. The next time I saw them would be under much more trying circumstances.

*RANT stood for Really Awesome Nintendo Tech, which was at the time the latest gaming system. The Japanese have never quite mastered marketing in English.

**Sank was created when the Rhineland declared its independence from France and Germany in 152 PC (Pre Colony). Our loathing for war comes from being fought over, conquered and reconquered for centuries.

***The target of a fox-hunt is not necessarily a fox. On L2 rat is the only legal quarry, but the sport is still called fox-hunting. On the other hand, I am working to ensure the importation of proper European Red Foxes to Mars in the course of building the Martian ecosystem.
10 March 2007 @ 09:35 am
162 Word Ficlet about Young Duo being confused by a hymn:

Little Duo didn’t think that he believed in God, but he sure did like the Mass. He liked the bright colors of the stained-glass windows and the bright circle of cloth that Father Maxwell wore. Duo liked the air-conditioned church, and the sweet smell of the incense, but most of all Duo liked the singing. Father Maxwell would sing something, everyone’d sing back at him, then they’d all sing together, while Sister Helen led them. The song was upbeat and fast “Some bright morning, when this life is over, I’ll fly away” were the words. Duo was puzzled. He’d wanted to fly away before, but not from This wonderful place, and he was almost positive you couldn’t fly away from somewhere if you were dead! “I’ll ha’ to ask Father after the Mass”, Duo thought.

I imagine the Maxwell Church's music program being heavy on Gospel music and Afro-American spirituals because they speak from a context of oppression to a context of oppression.
22 January 2007 @ 12:07 pm
This fic takes place before KHI. Pure wanking smut.

The day began when Riku and Sora met at the beach, as usual, to work on their raft.
They arrived at around ten in the morning, at more or less the same time. They shot the breeze for a while, then, typically, Sora asked Riku “wanna fight?”.

Riku’s response was somewhat ironic; “want me to kick your butt? You always try to fight me and haven’t one once since we started sparring two years ago.”

Sora laughed and responded “maybe today’s my lucky day.”

Both boys grabbed their swords and saluted, before commencing their duel. Sora was more aggressive, swinging wildly at Riku, but Riku parried Sora’s every stroke with ease. Riku then closed on Sora, feinting towards Sora’s chest. Sora fell for the feint, allowing Riku to smack him on the wrist with the flat of his wooden sword, sending Sora’s identical ‘weapon’ flying.

“Give up?”, Riku asked with a laugh.

“For now” Sora replied.

“Where’s Kairi?” asked Riku. “She’s normally the first one of us here!”

“If she’s sleeping in, we ought to go wake her”

The Destiny Islands were a large island chain, but Riku, Sora, and Kairi lived in a small town on the tip of the southernmost island. Therefore, it took only a few minutes for Riku and Sora to walk to Kairi’s house.

Unfortunately, at Kairi’s door, Kairi’s adoptive mother informed the two boys that Kairi had caught a cold and would not be joining them that day.

Clasping his hands behind his neck, Sora thought for a second. “Hey Riku, want to put on our suits and have a proper swim this time? Since Kairi’s not here we ought to save working on the raft ‘till she can help us.”

Riku thought for a second to himself that Kairi wasn’t much help- he seemed to shoulder more of the labor then Sora or Kairi combined. But Riku loved feeling the ocean on his body, and he hadn’t had a proper swim (unlike Sora, Riku did not enjoy jumping into the water in his clothes) since they had started the raft project. “Ok”, Riku said after a few moments thought. “Just let me go to my place and get changed; I’ll meet you back at the beach in a bit.”

Riku’s mother was in her office at work, so Riku had to let himself into his house. His room was as messy as any other teenage boy’s- his mother seldom entered his domain.

Riku’s suit was an ice-blue Speedo, and he slipped on a pair of blue flip-flops to keep from burning his feet on the way to the beach. He also slathered sunscreen on every exposed inch of skin- without such protection, Riku burned like dry tinder, so Riku decided to take the sunscreen with him as an afterthought.

He met up with Sora on the way to the beach, Sora’s swim trunks as bright red as his usual pants, though they had a white stripe up the side, and his flip-flops were black. Sora always tanned rather then burning, a trait Riku was mildly jealous of.

“Race You!” Riku challenged, then kicked off his flops and dashed into the surf. Sora followed suit, entering the water seconds behind Riku.

For a while the two boys frolicked in the ocean, Riku trying to get in as much touching as was possible, but then Sora declared that he was tired.

After Sora and Riku got out of the ocean, Riku could not help but stare at the way his friend’s wet swim trunks caressed his body. His eyes lit on the tube of sun block, and Riku had an idea.

“Sora, do you want to try that thing that Wakka showed us how to do again, since Kairi isn’t around?”

“What, you mean jerking off? I’ve been doing it everyday!” beamed Sora. “but we don’t have anything to do it with”, said Sora.

“Yes we do” said Riku, triumphantly holding up the sun lotion.
Soon thereafter, Riku and Sora were squatting in the shack with their swimsuits around their ankles, facing eachother.

Riku drizzled a generous amount of sun oil into Sora’s outstretched palm, then drizzled an equally generous amount directly onto his cock.

Riku was farther along in puberty then Sora, and his cock was surrounded by a halo of icy-white pubes. Sora’s own brown brush was just starting to sprout. Neither boy was circumcised; boys on the Destiny Islands rarely were.

Riku and Sora commenced their masturbation, each boy grasping his cock and tugging the foreskin back, then rubbing up and down vigorously.
The boys’ eyes met, and by mutual, unspoken consent the two boys switched hands, so that Sora’s tanned hand was stroking Riku’s translucent member, while Riku’s pale fingers fondled Sora’s cock.

The two boys wanked each other, each of them panting, their breath becoming more rapid and shallow. Riku skinned back Sora’s foreskin and stated toying lightly with Sora’s sensitive head. This was too much for Sora, and he came, shouting “Oh! Oh! Riku!”, as his cum dribbled out and over Riku’s hand.

The sight of his hand covered in Sora’s semen, the knowledge that he had made his best friend (was Sora his boyfriend now?) shoot, nearly drove Riku over the edge himself. Standing up, Riku stepped out of his Speedo, leaving him clad only in his flip-flops. The white haired boy spread his legs wider and motioned for Sora to move closer. The younger boy continued wanking Riku’s member as he moved in close for a better view. Experimentally, Sora stuck out his tongue and licked his best friend’s dick. Riku’s penis tasted of salt and lotion and something else, something wonderfully organic. Sora’s lick drove Riku to an explosive orgasm covering Sora’s face in sticky white fluid.

The two boys sat still for a moment, awed by what they just did. Then Sora broke the mood by saying “that was … great! Let’s swim again and rinse this stuff off, ok?” And Riku was left feeling vaguely disappointed.