School stories

for cicirossi - mist, train, loyal

The whole school had been caught up in excitement about Christmas and the upcoming break for what felt like forever. At least now he was in the upper school he didn't have so share a dorm with eleven Christmas-enthused whispering teenagers. Just one, very determined, fellow student, who's absence was most of the reason Christian wasn't looking forward to the three weeks holiday. Lucian was – Lucian had won his heart, spun dreams between them, accepted Christian's adulation, and taught him un-thought-of pleasures, all in the brief weeks since he had joined the student body.

Lucian was currently on the train winding its way across the mist-soaked moors, back towards Sheffield and then London and his family and his other life. Christian was alone in their room, writing formal letters to distant cousins and looking forward to Christmas spent with the Head and his prim un-welcoming wife not at all.
Lucian had spoken of parties, of dinners and theatre and dancing till after midnight every night for a week. Of débutantes and elegant dresses and silk stocking and silkier skin above them. He'd spoken of these things, eyes dancing and a smirk pulling at his kiss-swollen lips, and when Christian had gone silent, looked away, Lucian had caught his hand and promised, expansive and ebullient, punctuated by kisses and touches that made Christian gasp, that of course he would be loyal, faithful, true to what they had found. That the girls were for show, the parties expected as much as anticipated, and that his heart would stay within the four bare walls of their room, wherever his body may roam.

School stories

for cicirossi - mist, train, loyal

The whole school had been caught up in excitement about Christmas and the upcoming break for what felt like forever. At least now he was in the upper school he didn't have so share a dorm with eleven Christmas-enthused whispering teenagers. Just one, very determined, fellow student, who's absence was most of the reason Christian wasn't looking forward to the three weeks holiday. Lucian was – Lucian had won his heart, spun dreams between them, accepted Christian's adulation, and taught him un-thought-of pleasures, all in the brief weeks since he had joined the student body.

Lucian was currently on the train winding its way across the mist-soaked moors, back towards Sheffield and then London and his family and his other life. Christian was alone in their room, writing formal letters to distant cousins and looking forward to Christmas spent with the Head and his prim un-welcoming wife not at all.
Lucian had spoken of parties, of dinners and theatre and dancing till after midnight every night for a week. Of débutantes and elegant dresses and silk stocking and silkier skin above them. He'd spoken of these things, eyes dancing and a smirk pulling at his kiss-swollen lips, and when Christian had gone silent, looked away, Lucian had caught his hand and promised, expansive and ebullient, punctuated by kisses and touches that made Christian gasp, that of course he would be loyal, faithful, true to what they had found. That the girls were for show, the parties expected as much as anticipated, and that his heart would stay within the four bare walls of their room, wherever his body may roam.