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Stalking Die Part 1-2 by Neia
part 1	part 2	part 3	part 4	part 5
Part 1
Stalking Die Part 1 I'm sitting at the bench, innocently trying to kill my time. My next class is still hours away. I want to see you. You pass me by. What am I supposed to do? Am I going to let you escape? Just like that? Not this time. The image of your lithe jeans-clad legs moving farther along the cement path entices me. You magnetize me. My legs move of their own volition upon the same ground made sacred by your passing. The threat of you seeing me thrills me: I cannot be seen. One, two, three... damn it, I can't wait that long! The urge seizes me. I need to follow you. I can't let you get away from me, you're mine. Your classroom nears, and a myriad excuses to join you there runs through my head. Your friends are there, cocooning you from my clutches. They're walls I must penetrate; I can't let them have you. How is it that mere mortals could be in such close communion with a god like you? These blaspheming creatures don't deserve to breathe the same air you breathe. But I do. I do. I worship you. What is it you want from me? +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ I tried to ignore you; I tried not to scare you. But you frustrate my every effort. You mesmerize me. You goad me to follow you, taunting flashes of white flesh peeking from the gap between your shirt and pants tantalize me. You know I can't resist. You know I can't resist you. How could I resist a god that deserves only my adoration and worship? I want you. +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ It was late morning in the cafeteria. The day was hot and muggy, and the stuffiness of the common room combined with the abominable crowd of lowerclassmen hogging the huge tables (and probably thinking that just because they hung out in big boisterous groups they had license to hold group banquets in that little hell hole) was making his head hurt. He was getting dizzy, and not just from the noise and the smoke wafting from the reeking mouths of people killing their lungs outside. He had just submitted the ten-page report of his progress on his senior thesis to the Management department, and his mentor had taken one look at the first page and told him to write another one such paper—due next week, and complete with footnotes, definitions and APA formatting which he had failed to use in the one he labored over for five stinking hours starting 2 a.m. that morning. Now he held said paper and it sported a big fat D on the cover page. He was close to tears. "Die-kun!" Smiling surreptitiously to himself, Kaoru slowly tucked the LCD screen of his JVC V8 away as he watched the tall, lithe figure approach the lone occupant of the table two meters away from his. This one, he needn't catch. He wasn't particularly interested in conversations. "Oi, red dude!" The tall beautiful man poked the thin, hunched up figure rudely at the ribs. "Haven't seen you all morning." The thin, pasty face that greeted the beautiful man did not look too pleasant, though he might have been handsome if the fine lines of worry etched on his brow weren't so apparent in his gauntness. "Lemme alone. Gotta headache." Kaoru watched the exchange silently while pretending to ponder his psychology reading. The tall pretty man, Toshiya, talked animatedly to the pale redhead, who would nod mechanically and smile pitifully at Toshiya's every pause. It was obvious that he wasn't feeling well, and Kaoru watched closely. The redhead's fingers were twitching spasmodically on the plastic table and Kaoru couldn't help noticing that there was a tremor to redhead's jaw muscles every time he nodded. Chronic neurosis, probably. And further agitated by external negative stimuli of smoke, noise and heat. Could possibly lead to nervous breakdown. He wouldn't be surprised if it happened here and now. "Die-kun, are you sure you should even be in school?" Toshiya paused in his narration, peering anxiously at his friend, who looked paler than the white styrofoam coffee cup in his hand. He patted the redhead's trembling hand sympathetically. "Thesis eating you?" The redhead shifted listlessly, bloodshot eyes losing focus momentarily before he sniffed. "I got a D." "From Takamura?" Toshiya snorted. "What else did you expect? That bitch hasn't been laid for twenty odd years—you can't expect her to be nice." "That paper's twenty fucking percent of my grade!" "And I'm sure she gave you another one to go, probably another D if things go your way, ‘cause if it doesn't, you won't just get an F. You repeat the whole damn course." The redhead's face, already pale from restlessness and lack of sleep, went transparent. Kaoru was sure he could see the blue traceries of his capillaries rapidly draining blood from his face. He looked like he was going to faint. "Excuse me, I think I need to go to the bathroom." Kaoru watched silently, waited for a few seconds, before nonchalantly pushing out of his own chair, V8 in hand and sauntering to the same direction that the distraught redhead had taken as if it were the most ordinary of days. +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ The communication arts building was always deserted after five. None of the undergrads who studied there wished to stay longer. It could have been in the dimness of the lighting in the absence of daylight. The long shadows cast by the waning sun lent the stuffy wood-paneled rooms in the building a horror movie feel that no one, not even the janitors and faculty, could stand. The building was just too spooky to be in after hours. And Kaoru loved it. It was free electricity, free air-conditioning (since the aircon control was centralized, all he needed to do to switch it on was to sneak into the faculty room and "borrow" the remote control), and absolute silence—exactly what he needed for what he was going to do now. The nine-inch little TV was something he worked off his father's new car. The old man thought having a screen in his Lancer was a complete nuisance, especially since it was just Kaoru who used the damn thing to watch his film projects while the driver sent him off to school (of course the old man didn't know that those "film projects" weren't really for school). So Kaoru tooled it off the car and hired some enterprising engineering student to work AC wires and cables into it so he could use it outside of the car for his private viewing pleasure. Presently, he plugged the TV into an open socket and his V8. The driver (and his dad) wouldn't arrive until six and he had a full hour to exploit the comm building's silent luxury while he waited. The camera was flicked on and the image of a tall, slender, red-haired young man bent over the white marble of the men's room sink flickered on the screen. Kaoru watched, riveted, his nimble hands moving quickly and abruptly over the front closure of his jeans even has his eyes remained trained on the screen. The image shifted as the redhead straightened in front of the sink, tendrils of water-damp hair clinging to his forehead as he made a futile attempt wiped his streaming face with his equally wet hand. The camera focused on the reflection in the mirror: pale, almost translucent skin, thin, chiseled features, dilated brown eyes… he sighed in silent, sensual appreciation. The redhead ran a hand through his spiky hair, slapped his gaunt cheeks sharply a few times to bring some color to his ghostly face, and then was gone, and the image shifted again. This time it was the corridor to the philosophy department. The redhead stood in silent contemplation among the smattering of students milling about the bulletin board next to the faculty room. 104 oral exam grades were posted on the board and the camera zoomed momentarily to scan the grade sheet before it found the student number and grade he was looking for: 62045—C. Kaoru watched avidly, his hands moving in front of him with increasing urgency as the image focused on the redhead's face—handsome even in disappointment. Slowly, the figure turned, just perfectly centered in front of the camera, and then, that handsome man heaved a sigh. And at that moment, Kaoru hit orgasm.
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Part 2
Stalking Die Part 2 The next morning wasn't the prettiest picture. Kaoru sat alone and reticent in his usual spot in the cafeteria, the din of various students eating, talking or simply passing by, completely unnoticed as he kept his face ducked under the shadow of long purple hair tumbling like neon paint in front of him. One slender hand propped the chiseled chin, elbow bent on top of the cheap white paper of his classmate's photocopied philosophy notes. Dark eyes shadowed by sleep-heavy lashes struggle to keep his line of vision downwards, on the swimming words in graying ink, and not on the vision of erotic fire sitting barely an arms length from him. The redhead was back, the only other occupant of the long table that Kaoru occupied as well. He sat at the other end, his books, notebook and scattered pieces of loose paper with scrawls ranging from T-accounts to pro-forma cash disbursement statements, were laid out in a haphazard pile in front of him, extending up to Kaoru's table space. A pale wasted hand gripped the mechanical pencil, poised shakily over an unanswered investment problem, as the other thin arm pillowed his head. Red hair spilled over the white pages, dark lashes kissed pale pinched cheeks. Die was a breathtaking sight awake, even with his perpetually thoughtful and worried expression, his face since senior year started, but nothing could have prepared Kaoru for the sight of his prey sleeping, with the lines of anxiety smoothened from his brow, the faintest color dancing in his cheeks, the soft rhythm of his purr rocking the table ever so slightly… Kaoru had caught himself drooling several times. Kierkegaard be damned, he didn't care if he flunked his orals that evening. He moved slowly, feigning cool casualness as he lifted the top flap of his school bag and extracted his newest technological toy, a Sony DV cam barely filling out his hand, and extended the LCD screen as a deft finger flicked the power on. Slowly, so casually, as if stalking and randomly catching people—well one person, at least—on camera was just what your everyday, boring psychology junior would do in his free periods, he set the camera on the table, angling the gadget slightly so that it caught the redhead's beautiful, lax face as he slept. Today was going to be a fruitful day. ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Kaoru stood in front of the mirror in the men's room, busily picking at the hem of the button-down silk shirt he wore for the orals that day. It was almost 5, and he would have to proceed to the Liberal Arts building for his exam schedule at 5:30, but before that he wanted to look perfect, like he always did, and while his long blond hair had fallen perfectly into place, the ugly little crease on the hem of his shirt was distracting him no end, and he would never have peace of mind until that little crease was smoothed into perfection. Vainly, he smoothed a palm, hot from rubbing it on his other hand, onto the crease, huffed in annoyance when the fold simply would not disappear, and resigned himself to a distinct mar on his impeccable appearance. He was about to stride out of the comfort room when the door to the lone occupied stall opened and the familiar shock of red hair heralded the entrance of his prey. The pale skin seemed horribly blanched under the harsh fluorescent light, the vibrant eyes somewhat dulled as tears streamed down the pinched cheeks and hacking gasps bubbled out of the twin pale half-moons that were the redhead's lips. Kaoru stood stock still for a moment as his redhead approached the sinks, nudged one of the taps open and splashed his face repeatedly with the gush of cold water. He found himself staring in spite of himself. Staring at the way the crystalline rivulets ran down the smooth forehead to the prominent brow, down the sculpted cheeks, and tracing the plump yet pale bow of lips, before ending a wondrous journey on the sensual chin, and dripping off into the porcelain bowl, down the drain. He stared avidly at the way the water-laden lashes fluttered continually over damp cheeks as the redhead blinked water away. He gaped at the way the crescent lips parted to expel a gust of hot breath that washed over the space between the pale face and the harsh surface of the mirror. His breath came in harsh little pants as he licked his lips slowly, one hand coming up to the perfectly pressed collar of his shirt and loosened a button so he could breathe. One bright eye quirked open, gazing intently into the mirror, and then the redhead was straightening. Kaoru dropped his hand. The redhead turned, swiping a hand over his face. Kaoru pressed his hand anxiously over the little crease at the hem of his shirt. The redhead took one step his direction. And another. And another. Until he was almost past him. And he stopped. "Would you stop doing that?" Kaoru gaped, words suddenly deserting him. "Did anyone ever tell you it's weird, the way you stare at people?" the redhead snapped tartly, an irate frown marring the smooth, still-damp brow. "I—I—" A huffed sigh. "Please don't stare at me like I'm a freak." "I—" Damn it, why couldn't he force the words between his lips? It was as if his throat had frozen completely, and his brain had shut down. The redhead blinked. "Hey, are you okay? You've been standing there for five minutes fixing a nonexistent crease on your shirt." Kaoru stared some more, still mute, his brain refusing to make any sense of the position he suddenly found himself in. "You know, you're getting really pale," said the redhead in a casual voice that belied the note of concern creeping in the undertones. "Maybe you should go home, it's quite late you know." Kaoru merely blinked. The redhead sighed. "Okay, if you want to keep standing there, I suppose it's not my position to make you leave. It is a free country." He didn't move either. "And I have a test—" Five thirty. Liberal Arts building. Fuck, his oral exams! "Oh shit!" Kaoru exclaimed, his eyes automatically searching his wrist for the time. "It's five," supplied the redhead helpfully. Five. Kaoru could deal with five. Suddenly he could breathe again. "Why are you talking to me?" he asked suddenly. The redhead blinked quizzically, adorably. "What do you mean why am I talking to you? You were staring at me in this really weird way. And if I'm not mistaken, you keep following me around with that video camera." He sighed. "What do you want?" Kaoru could feel his skin crawl at the suggestion. "I want—" He stopped suddenly, captivated by the way the redhead's eyebrow arched mildly, the way he bit his lower lip in almost coy invitation, the way the slender hand came up to tuck a stray lock of red hair behind his ear. All right. Screw his fears, screw his speechlessness. He took a step further. "I want—" The redhead backed a little as Kaoru bore on him, his eyes still mirroring his bewilderment. Kaoru licked his lips again slowly. One more step, and the redhead was backed against the sink, the look of mild confusion slowly melding into uncertain fear. "Look, um, I really have to go—I have a test—" He was not allowed to finish his sentence as Kaoru pressed his mouth firmly onto the pale, plump lips, whispering insistent kisses on the cool surface as the redhead stood stunned by his actions. When he met no resistance, Kaoru pressed his lips more firmly, his tongue darting out, licking, reveling in the taste of salty skin and nicotine from a previous smoke session. The redhead moved, as if to jerk his head away but Kaoru was faster, gripping the sides of his face and forcing him to take his kisses, until he felt the damp lashes flutter against his cheeks as the wide, affronted eyes slid shut, and the mouth against his hung slack, slightly open, passively enjoining him to partake of its sweet depths. Kaoru kissed him long and hard, combining tongue and teeth in one distinctly golden moment of glory as they stood there, alone in the men's room, face to face, body to body, strangers caught in a distinctly forbidden act between men. And just as suddenly as the moment came, it was gone. Kaoru straightened, releasing the redhead's face, mildly surprised that the redhead's hands which had hung at his sides before he had initiated the forbidden act, were now braced at his hips. The redhead apparently noticed this too, and a faint flush tinged the pale cheeks as he hastily withdrew them to his sides, fingers clenching into fists, as he stood there, utterly shocked and bewildered and staring at Kaoru's closed face as the blond boy smiled coolly before turning on his heel. "Hey, wait! What the hell was that all about?" Kaoru smiled, aware that the gesture went unseen as his redhead was facing his back. He shook his head. "Good luck in your accounting finals. I heard Dr. Takamura's a bitch in financial accounting." The door swung open, admitting a tall, handsome, and familiar student, but one whom Kaoru simply brushed past as he walked calmly out of the room. Behind him, he heard a short snatch of bemused conversation. "… the hell were you doing taking so long? You know Takamura's going to flunk us both if we show up late in her exams! Die? Are you even listening to me?" "Yeah. Yeah I'm listening." A short pause. "Toshiya, what was that guy's name you were talking about? The one in your philosophy class? That obscenely rich, genius kid with the double major?" "Huh? What are you talking about?" "Kaoru Niikura…" And the voice that spoke was dreamy. Kaoru smiled and headed to his orals. And got an A without breaking a sweat. ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ I saw you again last Monday. You were pouting. What is it, love? What made you mad? Was it me? Well, I do not care. You look even sexier when you pout—just like the first time I saw you. You were leaning against the blackboard in our class. You wiped the sweat from your neck…uuhh…how I wish I was that tissue you held, that I was that flimsy little thing that would touch your body all over. All over. And touching would not be enough. I wish to drink every drop of moisture from your divine form, to swallow your very breath… You are mine. -end-
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finished