50 Anime/Manga Stories
02 Predatory
Series: Viewfinder
Original Story by: Yamane Ayano
Characters: Feilong Liu and Mikhail Arbatov
The flight wasn’t as long as it had been the last time he’d flown to Russia. Feilong placed his hat on his head carefully, paying close attention to hiding his hair underneath it, so that it remained out of sight for as long as he was in public. Yoh nodded when he descended to open the door of the car for Feilong. Yoh had been in Russia for over a week already, making all the arrangements for his boss to be there. Feilong nodded back, reassuring Yoh –yet again—that he trusted him.
Yoh asked Feilong to follow him to the flat he’d prepared for him and smirked. Every thing was in its right place, and Yoh had tried hard to create a Chinese-like ambience for him. Feilong nodded, this time approving what he’d done and as soon as he saw him, Yoh left the room, and the other man walked into what was appointed to him as his bedroom.
Feilong took off his hat and let his hair loose. Then, one by one, he started to get rid of the rest of his clothes; his gloves and winter coat, then his jacket and shirt. After a few minutes, it was only his trousers what he still had on. Feilong smiled, it was warm and cosy in there.
Someone coughed behind him. No. It wasn’t really a cough; it was someone telling him “he” was there, which made him keep smiling. Feilong turned and sideways, he looked at the one in the bedroom. As he did that, he noticed the room was still dark for he hadn’t turned on the main lights and that the light in there was nothing but a reddish glow coming from a Chinese styled lamp. Feilong couldn’t help it and laughed at the sight of Mikhail sitting there, and the glow of his blue eyes being so brilliant that it was all he could actually see of him.
“What an entrance.” He stated and turned, leaving the buckle of his belt open and his trousers fell to his hipbone, letting his torso and the upper part of his pelvis at sight. Mikhail looked at him, absorbed by him completely. Feilong’s perfect features, never feminine, contrasted with the delicacy of his jet-black hair, which contrasted itself with the fairness of his skin. The Russian grinned.
“Mikhail.”
“Shh…” The blond one hushed him. Mikhail moved forward, just enough to look at Feilong with more care. He took special notice of the man’s pristine skin and the scar on his chest. He breathed deeply and by supporting his hands on his knees, he stood up.
Feilong was now looking at him with utter interest. Mikhail’s silence—when it happened—was truly enticing for the Chinese man; and the look in his eyes, completed the scene in a way Feilong found unexpectedly surprising. He wanted to finish changing. Go back to his Chinese clothing and sit for a while just to rest. Plus, he had to call Tao and check on the little one. He moved a bit closer to the bed, where Yoh had placed his clothes before he arrived, but Mikhail stopped him.
Mikhail resumed the distance between them with great ease and grabbed him by his hand. He could feel Fei’s warmth; he closed his eyes and let him go. He walked slowly, positioning himself behind Feilong. Being as the other man was, semi-nude, seemed to augment Feilong’s body odour, making it stronger. The Russian man didn’t see the other flinch, not once. He grinned yet again.
A knock on the door startled Feilong, but Mikhail hugged him, keeping his hand open on Fei’s solar plexus; holding him tight against his body. Finally, Feilong surrendered and breathed deeply—or so Mikhail thought; for the other didn’t utter another sound.
“Master Feilong.” A voice called from the other side f the door, but he couldn’t respond at once. It’d been to long since the last time Mikhail had touched him, or even seen each other, that it just felt good. Oh, so good, he thought.
“Master…”
“Later, Yoh.” He sighed this time. Mikhail was sniffing his hair, and the subtle touch of his fingers on his back felt arousing; the beginning of his body to respond.
“Did he tell you I almost rip his tongue off?” Mikhail asked against his ear.
“You wouldn’t hurt him.” Feilong stated.
“Why wouldn’t I?” Mikhail asked amused.
“’Coz you know that’d make me really angry.” Feilong responded, this time, his voice sounded more like a whisper. Mikhail was moving his hand as he fully embraced him from behind. As always, Mikhail was playing. Feilong closed his eyes and allowed himself to press his body against Mikhail’s chest. “Too much clothing.” He whispered, hoping Mikhail would understand.
Mika did and moved backwards, enough as to start getting undressed, as least as to match Feilong’s nudity. The Chinese man came to him and touched his bare chest, his hand moving freely, until Mikhail grabbed a few strands of Fei’s hair. “I don’t want you to ever hide it again, not even if you’re coming to me.”
Feilong was the one who grinned this time. He regained his composure and after locking his eyes with Mika’s, he moved his hands from the man’s navel, his fingers slithering down.
Mikhail smiled following Feilong’s fingers and then grabbed him by the hips, dragging him against him as he spoke, “I feel like eating you up, Fei.”
Of course, after feeling Mikhail’s lips on his neck and his fingers running through his hair, Feilong didn’t say one more word.
Ariadne, June 11, 2008