Gotta Keep it Separated

Discussion in 'THREAD ARCHIVES' started by aiden1896, Jun 18, 2012.

  1. Zane-Damon.jpg
    Damon is an average kind of guy who, at 26, works at an accounting firm for a living in the heart of New York City. He is completely unaware that there is another man living in his own body though. Zane on the other hand is fully aware that Damon exists, keeping himself hidden from the other entirely. The two are near opposites of each other.

    Damon leaned on the little half cart lazily as he pushed it up and down the aisles. He'd been sent out to get ingredients for dinner tonight on his way home from work and had absolutely no clue what he was going to get. Finally getting to the pasta section he shrugged to noone but himself, guess that would work. With a light sigh the young accountant pulled down a box of spaghetti, grabbed a jar of sauce and went in search for garlic bread and a bag of decent looking salad. His partner said they were going to be home later, which had left Damon to deal with dinner. It was clear even when they were dating that the man was not the better cook. Sometimes he just had to though, like tonight.

    (I can get more length, but that's easier for me when I have something to work off next post :P )
  2. bishonen-1.jpg
    Hisoka is no ordinary boy. Raised by a cult as a successor to his demon father, he escaped their oppressive clutches and is experiencing normal life for the first time. He is 20 years old, medium height, and has beautiful blue green hair. On his chest, he bears a mark- the same mark of his demonic family crest. He has the looks of his human mother, who was fragile in her beauty, yet strong in her heart. When provoked or threatened with extreme emotions, he loses control and the genetics of his father, Atsushi- Lord of the Demons, take over. Although he was a spoiled child, raised to be a successor due to his charming looks, unbelievable power, and generous intelligence, he was unhappy living with the cult, who often performed experiments on him. Now, as a run away, he tries to avoid cult members and attempts to fit in with normal human beings. He has changed his name in order further conceal himself. Once known as Hisoka, he now goes by Kasoki.

    *Kasoki, new to the neighborhood, went into the large, well-lit grocery store. The neon lights enticed him, his curiosity taking him further inside. It was a new experience for him, although he escaped nearly a week ago. He had found a quaint little apartment for cheap, and had furnished it luxuriously with some of the money he had stolen. That was three days ago and still he had no meal. He learned how to cook from reading a book while in his cell, but he never actually tried to do it himself. Actually, he scoffed at food preparation. It was beneath him- his wait staff usually brought him fine, rich meals, but now he was off on his own. Bummer. He walked around the store, awed at the boxes and bags and strange things filled with even stranger things. When he passed Damon, he almost didn't recognize him as his new neighbor. Getting closer, he did notice, but he didn't know what to say. They had never formally met and his human mannerisms were shaky at best, if you can call observing a bunch of obsessive cult members a lesson in human culture. As he approached the neighbor, his heart beat quickened and his palms felt clammy. He was trying his best to stay calm, but the words fumbled out of his clumsy brain and ditzy mouth in a light, faint but honey sweet voice, the foreign syllables dripping off of his tongue rather smoothly.* Hello, I am new here. I noticed that you are my neighbor. Would you like to have dinner with me? *He comprehended what he spoke, but the words seem to roll of the tongue unconsciously. In the cult, he was only able to communicate telepathically. Forming words was difficult for him, and the syllables were so strange, too. He must sound like a man from an exotic place, which in a way, he was. He struggled to speak, but the words were smooth, oiling themselves out of his mouth like slippery, exotic creatures* I am sorry if I am intruding on you. I am just very new here.

    (Don't worry about the length- just write what is natural :) Some posts are bound to be shorter than others. I don't mind :p )
  3. He'd been staring at the labels of pasta sauces for nearly ten minutes, trying to remember which one they usually had at home. Having just picked one up, the voice suddenly next to him caught Damon off guard, the jar slipping from his fingers to fall and shatter on the tiles at his feet. "! I'm so sorry!" the sauce was everywhere including his and the stranger's pants next to him. There was a hesitant smile on his lips as he looked up finally at Kasoki. Sighing lightly, he nodded, "Oh, right. I think I do recognize you. Saw you moving in." Truthfully he didn't remember seeing anyone, but he knew someone had gotten a whole apartment's worth of furniture recently, nice expensive furniture at that. Maybe this was the guy?

    Damon looked a bit sheepish when a lazy voice came over the crackling intercom system calling for clean up in the aisle he'd just turned red. "Uhh, we're having pasta tonight, but yea, sure you're welcome to stop by. It'll be a good chance to get to know each other right?" Suddenly looking more embarrassed and pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, he held out his hand, sauce drips on it and all, "I'm Damon, welcome to the neighborhood...."
  4. *Kasoki chuckled, a smile tugging at his lips and a pink hue dancing on his pale, hollow cheeks. His accent thickened with emotional strain. He was feeling... something. He didn't know exactly what that feeling was. It gripped him like an iron hand, squeezing the darkness out of his evil mind and replacing the shadows with a warm, content sensation. He grinned, holding the stranger's hand sheepishly. He didn't know this custom. When he spoke, his voice was smooth, honey sweet, yet slightly hushed. It was little more than a whisper.* Thank you. My name is... Kasoki. Would you like for me to purchase something for our meal? I've never had Speg-het-tee before. *He smiled warmly, still holding onto Damon's hand, quite unsure of what to do with it. His hair fell gently, just barely reaching his slim, bony shoulders, the collar of his dark button up shirt opened slightly, revealing his collar bone and the top of the tattoo-like mark that was entwined within him forever. His black slacks were baggy, but not ill-fitting. He was a fragile looking man, with a beauty that came off as shy. His eyes were locked onto Damon, their light green hue reflecting the florescent grocery store lights over head that buzzed like angry bumblebees. *

    *Meanwhile, Ginta ran around like a mad man in the office. Something was wrong, but the news had not yet hit him. Papers were flying and phones were ringing non stop, their tones sounding like a mob of church bells, while some coworkers were pushing computer buttons in a frenzy. A small, pink-haired intern with a tight black suit handed him a neon blue phone. It was the Boss. Atsushi. His voice was thick, empowered, as he whispered directions to Ginta hastily. All Ginta could say was 'Yes Sir' and 'Right away, Sir'. He was a professional man, with an executive position in one of the most productive and fastest growing companies in the world. He had no time to argue with Atsushi. Too many things were at stake. After bellowing several orders to his underlings, Ginta walked briskly into the break room. He made himself a strong, bitter cup of coffee, taking light sips to avoid the heat. It would be another long, lonely night. Damon was sure to understand. Walking over to his dark blue, outdated laptop, he emailed Damon. Typing the keys, he heard their noise blend into all of the other office sounds. They were in rhythm- a team. Nothing could stop this company. There were too many things at stake. He ran his large fingers through his short dark hair, letting them linger for a moment as he took a deep, soothing breath. Time to get shit done.* "" Have to stay later than planned. Be home tomorrow morning. Sorry Babe, I'll make it up to you. Promise! xoxo. -Ginta ""
  5. This Kasoki was interesting, his hair was a weird color, but it seemed to fit. Damon got the sense that the guy was a bit new to the US, as the handshake happened, but only because the accountant had led the action after the other only took his hand but did nothing after. A store clerk had just come up with the mop, giving Damon the evil eye as it was rather obvious he was the epicenter of the mess. The kid didn't say anything though, but he used the mop to wipe up around the pair standing in the mess, not being exactly friendly with the cleaning process, banging the mop on the men's shoes instead of asking them to move.

    "Ah, sorry there..."hesitantly smiling over at the store clerk and moving away only to track a few foot prints of the red sauce down the aisle. As Damon looked back at Kasoki, "You don't have to bring anything, unless you have a preference in beverages. I'm afraid we really only keep water, coffee and tea in our home." Just then his phone sounded in his pocket, an email came through. He'd look at it later though, likely was just the intern finally sending out those reports that were due two days ago. The accountant smiled warmly at his new neighbor, reaching for a new jar of the kind he'd just dropped less than five minutes ago, "Well, come on over anytime after seven, dinner should be ready around then. Alright? Nice to finally meet you." As soon as Kasoki replied, Damon would turn and get going on getting home.
  6. *Kasoki smiled and nodded.* Nice to meet you also. See you later. *He turned to browse more of this strange food-store. Seeming oblivious, he left fairly small, but extremely sticky, sauce prints all the way to the meat isle. His mouth watered at seeing so many delicious things bagged up, soaking in their own blood. After observing other people and noticing their shiny metal baskets on wheels, he set out to finding one so he could fill it up with consumables for the apartment. He placed many different cuts and styles of meats into his 'cart'. He also placed some desserts in there, thinking that maybe the neighbor would like them. He had next to no interest in food that was vegetarian- a trait that was brought out in him because of his strict dietary upbringing. He made one last stop before heading to the cash registers. After paying for his items, he packed them in his tiny black car, and shakily drove home. This whole driving thing was still pretty scary to him; he could see its efficiency though. He let himself into his apartment and put the food away. He decided that before dinner, he ought to shower. There was sauce in his hair and on his clothes, too. Thinking of Damon, He remembered the feeling of the sauce between their fingers as they touched hands- Damon's warm palm within his own cool one, the room-temperature sauce sticking between both extremes like a negotiator. The memory sent shivers down Kasoki's spine. He tried to forget about it as he pulled his pants off and unbuttoned his shirt. He turned on the shower and stepped into the steaming water, cleaning up before getting dressed for dinner.*
  7. "I'm home, love!" Damon frowned not hearing an answer. He put the groceries down and wandered the apartment quickly, checking the bedroom, guest room and bathroom and found them all empty. With a heavy sigh, the guy went back to the kitchen and started to pull out the dinner things. Maybe he was running late, but when that happened Ginta usually at least sent a text or called. Damn, that's right! Damon pulled his phone out and checked that email that had come in, groaning and slumping against the counter when he found out he was alone for the night.

    That's when he remembered Kasoki was still invited over for dinner and he had no way of asking to postpone the occasion. He'd only been trying to be polite in saying he remembered the guy as being his new neighbor, but he had no clue which apartment. Looking down at the counter and all the ingredients, the accountant felt a little panicked. He couldn't remember the last time he had to cook, and was fairly certain there was a reason why when he and Ginta moved in together, he'd been given cleaning instead of meals as a chore to take on for the two of them. Damon looked up at the clock, it was five thirty, he'd told the guy six. It was going to cut it close. Quickly he put on the water, threw in the pasta and turned on the oven. Another pot out and covered held the sauce, and so once everything was in it's place, it was time to run to the bathroom and shower cause damn he'd really made a mess with that sauce back at the store.
  8. *Kasoki tried to look his best. According to his calculations, someone very important and heavily involved with the cult lived nearby. In order to conceal himself, he was walking around in his human form, which many cult members had never seen or knew about. He was wearing fresh clothes, newly washed and ironed. He put them on when they were still warm. They smelled crisp, clean. It was a scent that Kasoki had come to love. His shirt was a silk long-sleeve button up, and he tucked it into his black wrinkle-free pants. He wore a black solid leather belt and black dress shoes. He had no jacket. His sea-colored hair was still wet, and it left trails of water down his neck and into his collar. The wetness was a sensual feeling and it left Kasoki in a pleasant mood. He had come to love so many of these new sensations; human skin was so fragile, and yet it was that fragility that was the key to these experiences. He was becoming quite the voluptuous man- his hunger for carnal pleasures had no bounds. Indeed, it showed through the furnishings in his apartment, his tastes in basically everything, even down to the very silk shirt that he was currently wearing. Its fabrics glided across the skin ever so softly; he couldn't imagine giving up these sensuous experiences, although fragile skin was the cost. He brought a cake with him to the neighbor's place- a large red velvet cake with thick white frosting- as well as a box of Vanilla Chai tea. He assumed they would go well together, although he was unsure of actually trying them himself. Wondering is Speg-ett-hee had meat in it or not, he walked up to Damon's door, and took a deep breath. The thought of talking to the neighbor made him very anxious. He tried to calm himself to the best of his ability, but his heart beat was loud and his breath was quick. He remembered holding Damon's hand; his thoughts lingered on the feeling of it. It was the first time that he had touched someone; human to human. He would never forget it, although he would try. He remembered that in human culture, it was abnormal for two males to get involved. Besides, he knew nothing of this man. Straightening himself up, taking one more powerful breath, he knocked on the door. It felt solid beneath his fragile knuckles and the sound echoed, seemingly infinite and loud compared to the quiet neighborhood.*
  9. Just as the shower shut off the knock came on the door. Damon panicked, he couldn't go out in just a towel, but he didn't want to leave the guy outside waiting either. Shit. Shit. Shit...okay calm down, drying himself off quickly he ran stark naked to the bedroom and pulled on the first pair of pants he could find, jeans unfortunately since he ended up going commando, that was going to be a pain later. Next, he ran to the kitchen, the oven buzzer sounding loudly for gods only know how long. Shutting off the everything on and in the stove, the man winced, a heavy smell of smoke definitely lingered in the air, though not enough to set off the smoke detector, thank the gods for small favors?

    Right, the door, the accountant ran and skidded to a stop as he opened it with a nervous smile. "So sorry to keep you waiting Kasoki, please come in." In his haste, Damon ended up answering the door in stressed faded jeans that only managed to zip up half way, at least covering himself, bare foot and no shirt. His shaggy black hair was still dripping and the glasses were no where on his person at the moment, having been left in the bathroom. A slight breeze came at him, which caused him to realize the draft that shouldn't be there. Damon blushed hard, spinning as he fixed the issue promptly. Gods what else could go wrong?
  10. *Kasoki smiled generously. His cheeks burned, but he had no idea why. They were red, a hot flame against his pale complexion. Seeing his neighbor shirtless made him feel ashamed... or was it embarrassed? He didn't remember the names of these emotions, but he could certainly feel them. He could smell something, the scent of smoke wafted between the two men. It seemed as if Damon wasn't much of a cook. He felt confused... why did the man invite him over if he didn't know how to cook? Kasoki would have tried to make something for them. Regardless, he stepped inside of Damon's home and looked around curiously. He was grinning without realizing it and he whispered, his Russian-like accent thick with excited emotions,* If you are having a hard time, I can take us somewhere to eat. I don't know the area well. You could show me around, perhaps. *He felt instantly like he was unwelcome, and that he had caused a lot of trouble for his poor neighbor. Yet, he did not know how to remedy the situation.*
  11. His eyes went wide, head shaking immediately with arms waving about the air at waist level for punctuation. "OH! Nononono! It's fine, was just the bread, I swear. And...I'm sure most of it is still salvageable." Damon's blush deepened to include his very visible chest now. That's when he really became aware of being topless before the stranger, not to mention, where did those glasses get to.

    "Please make yourself comfortable" motioning to the couches in the living room area, "I'm just gonna go throw a shirt on and find my glasses real quick. Accountant," pointing to his own chest to make himself the butt of a joke, "great with numbers, horrible with timing." And with a smile he was off to the back of the apartment, leaving his guest alone for a few minutes.

    Damon used a towel to wipe the moisture off the bathroom mirror with a long sigh. His head was starting to hurt and he was seriously hoping he wasn't getting sick. Suddenly his vision started to get blurrier, his hands gripped onto the counter for support. Out of nowhere the sound of him falling might be heard faintly in the other room, followed just a minute after by his voice, sounding far more sure and composed, "Tell me, Kasoki was it? Where are you from?" He said it while passing from the bathroom to the bedroom, leaving the door open to hear the answer. When he came back out, something was different in his mannerisms, and he was wearing a button down black valor shirt, only the bottom four buttoned. He was also without the glasses he'd gone to get. With a sort of confident swagger, the man went into the kitchen and started to put the dinner onto plates, shaking his head at the half the ruined garlic bread. Turning, his smile even was different, evoking something more akin to slyness; like a cunning fox just about to trap it's prey. It was the kind of smile that on the best looking men had women falling to their feet.
  12. *Kasoki sat on the couch like he was told. He still didn't know what manners were considered improper when visiting someone's home. He tried to be as polite as possible and smiled at Damon's joke, even though he didn't completely understand it. In the few minutes of down time, he was glancing around the apartment, taking in all of the details. Where was he from? He couldn't exactly tell the truth. He tried hard to remember the little world map in the schooling room. Where could he be from? He wasn't even exactly sure where he ran away from in the first place. He pictured the climate, during his first moment outside- It was warm, raining, humid. He was thinking that he was actually from somewhere in South America, eerrr, that his prison was there at least. He knew several foreign languages, so he wanted to pick a place that he knew a little about and that he could converse slightly in the native tongue. Should he say where the prison was? Probably not. It was too dangerous to reveal information like that, especially to strangers. He had to consider his safety, and his status... he was a run away, after all. He cleared his throat, hesitantly.* I am from Estonia. Are you from... *He caught sight of Damon and lost his train of thought. The guy was certainly an attractive man, and Kasoki's cheeks reddened almost instantly. His eyes kept falling to the skin revealed by the open shirt buttons. Damon seemed different now, but then again, Kasoki didn't know him very well to begin with. The smile is what caught his eye- it was so perfect, so inviting. So dangerous feeling. His heart was racing. He noticed that Damon had no glasses on. He inquired,* Are your glasses lost?
  13. "Hmm? Oh, no the glasses...I don't really need them." Which was actually true. Damon wore them because he thought he needed to, they weren't actually all that strong a prescription, bordering on fake lenses. So when Zane emerged, the glasses got ditched, cause it would seriously ruin his image. "Look better with out them anyways, right?" Winking at his guest. He'd put the plates out on the table, placed out silverware and a couple of glasses with a nice bottle of champagne. "Please come eat, we'll celebrate a new friendship." As he popped the cork out of the bottle and poured some into each glass. The man waited to sit down until Kasoki was preparing to do so as well, taking the seat at the opposite end. There were only four chairs, one to each side, so the table didn't separate them very much anyways.

    Either he'd forgotten the question about where he was from, or he was avoiding it, either way the question was left unanswered. Zane actually hadn't much cared for where Kasoki was from truthfully, but the accent was unique, and it had made him curious. Parts of him were still locked away, he had no access to a lot of his own memories. Sure, Damon's past was all there, but something about that even seemed fishy to him. Over the last two years, Damon had been given medications to -suppress- the other personality he'd been diagnosed with. Ginta had made sure of that. But lately Damon's partner wasn't around as much, and Zane was able to get through enough to stop the pills from happening as regularly, making Damon think he'd taken them already. Tonight was the first time he was able to fully take the body back over and boy was he planning on having some fun.
  14. *Kasoki was taken aback at the wink and blushed a little bit more. These human customs were so unpredictable. He rose from the couch, and walked gracefully over to the dinner table. It was so... modest. But he tried not to mind. Truth is, he was awfully spoiled. Accustomed to fine furniture and dining, his life at the prison wasn't all that bad. Because of his strength and charm, they were raising him as a successor and treated him as such. It was a pity that all the fine fabrics were wasted on tough demon skin- human skin was much nicer for appreciating the finer things in life. He sat in the chair closest to him, and made a curious look at the bottle that Zane was opening. He ran his bare fingers along the smooth wood of the table, enjoying the feeling. He asked, innocently, curiously,* What is in that bottle?
  15. His lips curled at the corners as Zane gave Kasoki a grin that fit a cat who'd just eaten the canary. "Champagne." picking the glass up in front of himself, he raised it towards the other and without every loosing that smirk or taking his eyes off the other man, "A toast, to new beginnings, new neighbors and letting loose." At the last part, his eyes flashed with a deviance as the thoughts behind them ran pleasantly thought his mind. Images of him exploring all parts of this new acquaintance, hearing how different things affected Kasoki....Ahh a wandering mind can be a wonderful thing.

    As he put the glass back down after a light sip at it, his leg crossed and the man leaned back casually in the chair. Zane was the picture of confidence and sexuality all wrapped up into one well formed little package. Casually his fingers wrapped around a piece of the garlic bread and bringing it to his lips, he managed to take a bite without getting any crumbs down his front. This whole time, he was still watching Kasoki, his prey, at the other end of the tiny table.
  16. *Kasoki sensed that something wasn't right with his new-found friend. He seemed so strange right now, like he was taunting Kasoki, tempting him. Kasoki could do nothing but be the beaten mouse, the broken toy; he was the smitten fly, struggling against the wind, blown into the silk strands that were carefully and strategically placed. He could notice the curve of Damon's throat and the audacious gaze that sparkled shamelessly in his eyes. Damon moved so lasciviously; he was intrepid, bold, lecherous... sexy. Kasoki closed his eyes, taking a light breath, just as he heard the crunch of garlic bread. With his eyes closed, he could smell the buttery, crisp bread, and imagined Damon's lips swallowing him whole. He sensed Damon's scent of soap, of cologne, and of masculinity- the dark, heavy weight of predatory urges, as well as the sadistic happiness that came with them. Kasoki opened his eyes slowly and realized that he was holding a piece of garlic bread to his lips. He didn't like vegetarian food, but placing it in his mouth was automatic. He felt it crunch and flake in between his warm, moist lips. It was delicious, and the aroma wafted around him as he enjoyed it. He closed his eyes again, whispering,* Mmm... This has a nice flavor. What is it called?
    *His mouth was dry from the bread, and he eyed the champagne warily. Reluctant to drink it, he dipped his finger into the glass to taste it first, placing the finger into his mouth delicately. The bitter, sour taste washed over his tongue, but it was pleasant. He then picked up the glass and took a gulp, thirstily finishing the entire glass.*
  17. His eyes lit up, brows perking as that first glass of champagne was downed rather quickly. Zane's devious smirk only widened though, getting up he grabbed the bottle from the counter, calling over his shoulder "That was garlic bread, guess they don't have any in Estonia, was it?" After sauntering back to the table, the man was suddenly at Kasoki's side, leaning down to speak softer next to the other's ear while he poured a decent sized refill. "And by the look of it, you're new to drinking as well." His tone was smooth, inviting like the pretty flower opened completely, waiting until finally..SNAP! Oh yes, he was enjoying the baiting, it would make the capture that much more pleasant in the end after all. Just before he got up to sit at his own seat again, Zane inhaled his guest's scent slowly, 'mm, you smell delicious, too." was muttered in a whisper and intended to barely be caught. It would not be repeated, nor confirmed when asked. Instead the host made his way silently back to his seat, taking another sip of his own drink as he sat back down, legs crossed again.
  18. *Kasoki was a little red, barely catching such a whisper with these sad human ears. He stumbled on his words, embarrassed but not quite sure why.* T-thank you... In Estonia there is no garlik bread, sure, but we have plenty of drink. There is coffee, tea, juice, all sorts of things to drink...
    *He smiled, thinking that he has just said some unknown fact, taking another sip of champagne. He felt so unbearably happy at the moment and he wasn't aware of how he became so happy. His light eyes kept traveling to the flaunted flesh that Damon remorselessly exposed, wondering about the rest of his skin, the rest of his body. He was ashamed at thinking such things, especially for just having met Damon. He knew nothing about Damon at all, and it worried him a little bit. What if he was with the cult? Could he be seduced this easily by a mere human man, sent here for just that purpose? At the thought, he looked up again at Damon- his wanting lips, chocolate colored hair, tan bare skin. The way he enchanted with his sly movements, and his tempting, cunning smile. Kasoki would say that he was a lady-killer, able to inveigle all sensual-minded people with his strong, tall body and alluring mannerisms. It made Kasoki's blood grow hot at the thought of such a challenge, such a difficult man, such a dangerous situation. He tried to stay contained, to stay calm, but he was growing masochistic at the thoughts. He was numb, tingling all over, as the room felt smaller and smaller. It suffocated them together, and it made Kasoki feel as if they'd already shared some sort of intimate bond, a thread of connection, a ripe red string of fate that tied them together mercilessly. Kasoki's mind tied the string at the waist.
    The tension coming off of Kasoki was electric, tangible. It pulled his desires closer and closer to Damon. Kasoki's smile was wide, and his cheeks were flushed rosy pink. He was indeed the budding rose that Damon craved, his petals trembling slightly as they opened for the first time, delicately like a hushed whisper. But every young, innocent rose had its set of deadly, concealed thorns.
    He tried the speg-ett-hee next, although he was unsure. It was another vegetarian meal, to his distaste.*
  19. Leaning forward, placing his elbows on the table, chin resting on his clasped hands. "Ma ei usu, sa oled Eestist, Kasoki."(I don't think you're from Estonia, Kasoki-Estonian) That sly smirk seemed to be a permanent fixture on the man's face now. At this point, he was directly challenging the male across the table. Because something seemed fishy, because it was his nature to extract the truth, and most of all, because it was fun. Zane had learned a little bit about many different cultures, and enough languages to pass himself off well no matter the situation he'd been put in. It was all part of his training, he knew this, but what was the training for, he couldn't remember.

    After a moment's pause, Zane stood up, making his way back over to where the guest sat at the other end of the table. Standing behind Kasoki, his hands lightly ran over the man's shoulders, slipping down onto his chest as he leaned in closer. With his lips just an inch away from the other's ear, he whispered softly, seductively, "Who are you really, Kasoki?" His hands stopped just inches from his lap, his whole body slumped over on top of his guest.
  20. *Kasoki gasped, his heart beat violently against his chest as if it would jump out. He felt trapped, vulnerable, yet enticed. He was a moth, wishing for death, begging for release, hurling towards the sun-colored glow emitted by the street light; aching for a scorching, violent blow dealt by an object so terrifyingly beautiful, so awfully alluring, and powerfully clever in all of its awful loveliness.
    His skin pricked with goosebumps, Damon's icy-hot touch causing him to shiver all over. Never before had he been touched by a human, as a human. His sensitive skin exploded, screaming for more stimulation, more caresses, more intimacy, desperate for another touch. Although his body was aching, he was scared, the fear apparent in his wild eyes. This man knew his secret, didn't he? And not only that, but he could not control the urges of this treacherous human form. As Damon whispered into his ear, the words melted into him like hot wax, dripping into his brain, confusing his excited body. When he whispered, his voice was hoarse, breathless,* K-k-kes ma s-sinu arvates olen? (Who do you think I am?)