D. N. Angel Fan Fiction ❯ Scandalous ❯ Chapter 6

Advance6:

 

Disclaimer: I do not own DN Angel. Nor do I own any of the other animes whose characters appear here.

 

Warnings: Nothing that hasn't been done already.

 

Daisuke trudged up the hill back to the castle, his stomach cold and heavy with a sense of foreboding. He was not disappointed as the other leaned in to give him a surprisingly chaste peck on the cheek. “Stop trying to run away, pretty Daisuke,” he whispered against the younger man's neck. “It'll feel so good, just with me.” Daisuke jerked away harshly, glaring hard at the older man and cursing his fair features for so quickly exposing his true feelings.

 

Dark smirked to himself as he continued to smile at the other. Drawing back a little as they approached the castle, he continued to smile unnervingly at his hosts' son as they entered the building and parted ways in the courtyard. The viscount smirked to himself as he walked through the gardens, once again stopping to admire the Amarkisan lilies. Just a little longer, he thought. The Element Knights were now gone from the picture, and he could now put his plan into action.

 

Daisuke:

 

Daisuke sighed in relief as he trudged up the stairs to his father's room, glad to be away from the unsettling man. Knocking politely on the door as he was accustomed to do, he waited for the other to notice. Upon hearing the muffled `Come in,” he slowly pushed the door open. His father was standing with his back to the door, hands locked behind him and looking out of the window, out over his lands.

 

“How now, Daisuke?” Lord Kosuke questioned. The redhead blinked and stepped forward, bowing low even though the other was facing away from him. “I hear you have been spending more time than you ought out of doors, away from your studies. Is this true?”

 

The younger one shook his head. “I…do not think so, Father,” he replied evenly. Kosuke sighed.

 

“Daisuke, it is your duty to rule over this land well, and to aid the people to the best of your abilities. As such, you are expected to study and prepare yourself for this task. You are now a man, and as such are expected to take upon greater responsibilities. Do you understand?” Daisuke nodded shamefacedly, immediately resolving to apply himself to his studies with renewed determination.

 

“I understand, father,” he whispered, bowing even lower than he had the previous time. The dark-haired man nodded, still looking out of the window.

 

“Good. See to it that your tutors do not come to me with complaints about your work any further.” Daisuke nodded and turned to leave.

 

As he headed towards the sanctuary of the library, the redhead resolved to visit the Element Knights less frequently. He wanted to sort out his feelings about Sir Hashiba and Viscount Dark's liaisons, and he had a feeling that none of the knights, not even the usually friendly Sir Rei Fuan, would want to see him for a while.

 

Element Knights:

 

“What say you, Sir Rowen Hashiba of Strata?” Sir Mouri demanded. His pale complexion was flushed and his eyes were stormy, reflecting the fury he felt at the Strata Knight.

 

The youngest Knight eyed him coldly, blue eyes as cold as the night stars that he admired so much. “Is it any of your business with whom I choose to sleep with? It does not interfere with my work, and it certainly does not cloud my judgement; you saw that yesterday.”

 

“I'm not talking about your blasted archery!” The Torrent Knight exploded. “I thought I told you that the viscount was after Lord Daisuke's virtue?”

 

“And how does this relate to me? I fail to see the connection.”

 

“Your misconduct will shame us! What will we say to Lord Niwa if he should find that we have failed to protect Lord Daisuke? And how did you come to warm his bed? For shame!”

 

Sir Hashiba finally lowered the tome he was reading and eyed his brother-in-arms frostily. “Sir Cye Mouri of Torrent,” he sneered. “Please write thine opinions in the book of thine heart. Such harsh words are as unbecoming to thee as fawning is to an ass. Shouldst thou wish to rebuke me for the choice of my partner, I would advise thee to first look at thine own bedfellow, and then speak. Nay; save thy retort; I would much rather hear it from Sage of the Halo.” He gave a bitter laugh at the look of rage upon the other's features. “Be careful not to let that hot blood boil over.”

 

The Torrent Knight flushed darkly in anger and embarrassment. “Very well,” he said. “I shall take your advice. We will speak no further of this matter.” The other merely ignored him and returned to his book. Sir Mouri hastily grabbed his yari and rushed out of the door, features still painted red and eyes wet with tears.

 

Upon the way out, he encountered Sir Date and flushed once more, remembering Rowen's taunt. Ignoring the other's questioning look, he fairly dashed out into the training field and began to perform his kata, imagining that Strata was on the receiving end of every blow. As he moved, tears ran freely down his face.

 

Daisuke:

 

He waded through the ancient text, quill scratching against the parchment as he laboriously deciphered the spidery handwriting. Frowning at a particularly smeared spot, the lord sighed and closed his eyes for a mere moment, the cool darkness a welcome relief from the now blazing sun shining through the windows. He sighed into the dusty silence of the library before delving once more into the text.

 

The sun continued its journey through the sky, and it was only when the last few red rays of light faded away that Daisuke realized that it was almost time for dinner. He heard a servant calling his name through the thick wooden door of the library, and realized that if his father had sent a servant after him, it must mean that he was extraordinarily late to dinner. In a panicked flurry of parchments, quills but thankfully not ink, he dashed out of the door and frightened the poor manservant out of three years of life.

 

Dinner was a tense affair, Lord Kosuke too wrapped up in his documents to notice the interaction between his son and his visitor. However, this tiny detail did not escape the servants' sharp eyes, and hence provoked deep discussion amongst those whose tongues were inclined to wag.

 

Daisuke slipped into the noisy hall and slid into his seat next to Dark, feeling distinctly uncomfortable in the older man's presence. At the other's greeting, he merely nodded and stared at his trencher, praying that they could begin eating and he would be spared from making conversation with the other.

 

Fifteen minutes later:

 

He was in agony. Dark's hand was resting quite naturally on his right thigh, gently petting him. Daisuke feared that at any moment, the servant coming up behind them in order to serve their food would see where Dark's hand was, and raise a hue and cry loud enough to bring everyone in the castle running. Worst of all, the violet-haired viscount seemed to have absolutely no shame, as his hand moved farther and farther upwards. It was only by kicking the other under the table quite viciously that Daisuke was able to stay the other's advances. “Daisuke, is something the matter?”

 

He let out a soft whimper, sweat rolling down his temples as he fought to keep his features and voice from trembling. “No, Father.” He could almost feel the smugness radiating off Dark even as he looked at Lord Kosuke, concern showing in his eyes.

 

“Indeed, Lord Daisuke.” Dark's voice was warm and concerned, both of which made the younger one swallow hard. “You look a little…feverish.” His hand, still resting on Daisuke's lap, squeezed gently. “Are you sure you're not a little…bothered?” His hand moved upwards and this time, the redhead was unable to stop him without drawing unnecessary attention to the events unfurling underneath the tablecloth. Daisuke gave his father a weak smile.

 

“I'm fine, father.” He breathed out a silent sigh of relief when Lord Kosuke returned to the ubiquitous stack of parchment at his left elbow. Nevertheless, he resolved to tell Dark exactly what he thought after dinner. Even if it meant inviting him up to his personal chambers.

 

As though reading his thoughts, Dark turned and smiled at him, piercing amethyst eyes half-lidded and sultry. “I would love to,” he murmured, leaving Daisuke wondering whether he had accidentally spoken aloud. Instead, he settled for a stiff nod, hoping that the gesture would convey cool civility. His stomach writhed in discomfort.

 

Dark almost wanted to laugh at the redhead's desperate attempt to appear composed even though it was clear that he was anything but. He wished that the mark was still there, and made a mental note to make it better the next time such an opportunity presented itself. Satisfied, he removed his hand from Daisuke's lap and returned it to the table, smirking all the while.

 

Two hours later:

 

Dark leaned casually against the doorframe, not caring that he was breaking one of the most basic rules of etiquette. “What?”

 

Daisuke swallowed hard, wondering how just two words could stick in his throat and choke his voice. “Come in.” He knew that those two words would be like inviting a vampire in, but unless he wished to let the entire castle know the true nature of his business with Dark Mousy, he would have to talk with him behind closed doors.

 

The purple-haired noble sauntered in gracefully, seating himself on the bed and gazing at Daisuke with that intent, hot gaze until the redhead felt quite uncomfortable. He walked over to the door and closed it, the feeling of dread growing even as the door thudded shut. He turned to face Dark.

 

“Viscount Dark Mousy,” he began as formally as he could, proud of the way his voice did not tremble. “I wish to ask…”

 

He was immediately cut off as the other somehow appeared in front of him with frightening speed. Intense amethyst met uncertain ruby as the other lord pulled him flush against his chest, voice slightly husky and amused. “Don't tempt me any further,” the older man whispered against Daisuke's ear. He gently traced the outline with his tongue, causing the other to gasp in surprise. “Didn't your mother ever tell you?” Daisuke frowned lightly, flushing hard even as he tried to gather his now-scattered wits.

 

“Tell me what?”

 

A low laugh unfurled into the still, tense atmosphere of the bedchamber, and Daisuke could not help but wonder if this was why fair maids swooned over people such as the viscount and Count Maxwell. He could feel Dark's lips curve upwards into a smirk as he smiled against his neck, tongue once more snaking out to lap at his jawline. “Tell you not to invite nasty men into your bedchambers and then close the door.”

 

Daisuke gasped in surprise as suddenly the other flung him down on the bed, which had mysteriously materialized behind him. “When…? How…?” He looked up helplessly at Dark, who was unclasping the cloak from his shoulders.

 

“I carried you over here, pretty Dai,” the viscount whispered. Kneeling down in front of the redhead like some parody of a lover to his chosen lady, the lord continued removing his garments until he wore naught but his breeches. His clothes lay pooled on the floor, like so many liquid shadows. “Come.” Frightened but at the same time enthralled, Daisuke allowed the other to sinuously slide over him until their bodies were touching, separated only by thin layers of cloth. The redhead could not find it in himself to move, even when he reminded himself of the penance and eternal damnation that awaited him in Hell's fiery pits should he choose to commit the act of…of sodomy with this man.

 

“What do you want?” He whispered as the scent of rain and grass surrounded him once more. “Why are you doing this?”

 

One hand moved to gently brush a few stray strands of red hair away from his eyes, gently caressing his face and moving downwards to deftly unclasp the brooch that held his cloak on. “What does it look like I want, pretty Daisuke?” He whispered. The younger one screwed his eyes shut, his head moving from side to side slowly as though he could not quite bring himself to deny Dark fully. The viscount, true to his name, smiled darkly as he dragged his tongue down to the delicate collarbones.

 

Daisuke turned his head to one side, tears pricking his eyes as he tried to bury himself into the soft pillow, as though turning away would make Dark stop. The viscount mercifully paused and Daisuke dared to hope that the other would leave, just as he had done before, but to his dismay Dark moved upwards and gently tilted his head, purple eyes boring in. “Do you not like it?” He inquired deceptively mildly.

 

The younger lord whimpered. “Stop…” he breathed out. Dark smiled wickedly and shook his head.

 

“I'll be gentle,” he promised as he continued feathering touches over the redhead. Daisuke tossed his head from side to side, trying to force his hands to move. However, all thoughts of leaving left his mind as Dark's lips feathered over a particularly sensitive spot.

 

“Ngh…ah!” Dark chuckled to himself.

 

“Feels good?”

 

“A-ah…” Daisuke could only dimly hear the noises he was making, mind now clouded over with pleasure. “M-more…” He whispered, cheeks flushing as he thought of what `more' meant. The purple-haired noble smiled at him, dark eyes smouldering in the dimly lit room.

 

“Of course.” Outside, the trees and plants gossiped as the wind rushed through their spindly branches, the walls standing as implacable listeners. After all, everyone knows that the walls have eyes and the wind has ears.

 

Next morning:

 

Daisuke slowly awoke, frowning as he tried to place the reason for the dull ache in his lower back, sleep still clouding his memory. However, as soon as his nose caught the faint scent of rain and grass, he turned pale at the mere thought of what had transpired between himself and the viscount. Of course, the other was nowhere to be seen, presumably having returned to his own chambers in order to avoid being caught by one of the servants.

 

He landed on the ground with an undignified thud as he tried to scramble out of bed, only to find that the ache in his lower body intensified upon movement. Swallowing hard, he forced himself to stand up and flinched at the mere thought of dueling Sir Mouri today. A flash of red suddenly caught his eye and he stared in horror, wondering just what could have put the blood there. Certainly he hadn't…?

 

Daisuke managed to make his way down the stairs of Castle Shadow, eyes wide and frightened as he looked at everyone who greeted or even looked at him. He felt as though he had a large wooden sign around his neck, one that signalled the loss of his virtue. Nevertheless, last night's events were burned into his memory, particularly the ones where Dark showed him other uses for the jar of scented oil he used to massage sore spots left from physical training. A blush of guilt, embarrassment and want stained his cheeks at the memory and he hastily shook his head.

 

“Daisuke.” To the redhead's chagrin and dismay, the older lord was already there, seated at his usual place. “How was your…night?” The redhead blushed and turned his head away, refusing to answer. The purple-haired man chuckled at him, a knowing look in his eyes. Daisuke immediately made his mind up.

 

“Father,” he said gently. “May I please be excused from breakfast?” Lord Kosuke merely nodded, wrapped up in the mundane matters of land and animal tax. “Thank you.” He could not help shooting a triumphant look at Dark, who merely took another bite of bread in response.

 

“Raise your glaive, Lord Daisuke! It is not a knight's lance; it is a glaive!” Their weapons clashed together in the rays of the half-risen sun, the sound ringing through the training fields. “That's it; parry, block, thrust! Parry, block, thrust! Parry, block, thrust!” Sir Mouri seemed more intense than usual, his blows stronger than the ones he normally used for a warm-up exercise.

 

They stopped for a water break, during which Daisuke shifted uncomfortably as the aches in his body grew. He swallowed hard at the thought of going to the priest's to confess such a gross violation of the Lord's law; he would likely denounce him to his father and have him burnt at the stake; but he could not think of another way to ask for the Lord's forgiveness.

 

Meanwhile, Sir Mouri was wrapped up in his own thoughts, praying fervently that Daisuke was not bow-legged because of a night with the visiting viscount. However, he could not deny that the other moved awkwardly, just like Ryo did after a night with that blue-haired son of a…he stopped himself with a frown, clearly still unhappy with Rowen of the Strata. There was only one way to find out, but he dreaded hearing the answer and hence did not question the younger lord.

 

“Sir Mouri?”

 

The auburn-haired man's head jerked up in surprise, whipping around to look at his protégé. “Yes, Lord Daisuke?”

 

The other flushed darkly, clearly uncomfortable with the question that was bound to slip out of his lips. The Torrent Knight felt his insides shrivel up as the magic words flew out of Daisuke's lips. “Is Sir Hashiba all right?”

 

Sir Mouri gave a bitter laugh, extremely different from his usual mild laughter. “Oh, indeed. He's thriving.”

 

“What did Dark mean when he said that-that Sir Hashiba warmed his bed?”

 

“That's quite enough,” a new voice interrupted. Sir Mouri turned around to see Sir Date emerge from the trees where he had likely been meditating. “Lord Daisuke, if you will permit me, I shall take over your training until Sir Mouri has composed himself sufficiently. It appears that your question has frightened him out of several months' life.” Indeed, the blue-armoured knight was gaping like a fish, his pale face suffused with a shade of scarlet as of yet, Daisuke was sure, unknown to man. Cye had never been more grateful to his partner than he was now. However, he had only one question to ask, based on Daisuke's previous ones.

 

“Why do you ask, Lord Daisuke?” The wind whistled through the silent field, grass rustling in response. Daisuke blushed hotly and turned his head to one side, causing the knights of Halo and Torrent to reach the same conclusion. Being the more composed of the two, Sir Date took it upon himself to invite the other to their living quarters, but the offer was brushed aside as Daisuke picked up his glaive and rushed up the hill, back to the castle. Sir Date's head bowed in shame whilst Sir Mouri let his tears fall once more, both sure that they had failed to protect their lord.

 

Dark:

 

And the lily is mine, he thought triumphantly as he bent down to pluck one from its place in the ground. Stroking the vibrant purple petals, he smiled at the memory of Daisuke's face, eyes squeezed shut and mouth slightly open as he writhed on the sheets in pleasure. His amethyst eyes slide shut at the thought of another night with the pretty young redhead. I'll make sure you crave no woman ever after.

 

His head jerked up at the sound of his name being called. A messenger ran in, dark brown eyes wide and hair tousled from riding on a horse. He approached Dark and bowed low, holding the scroll of parchment out in front of him like a gift. “A message for Viscount Dark Mousy of House Blackwing,” he announced to the flowers. Smiling, Dark took the letter from the other's hands, making sure to brush them more than was absolutely necessary.

 

“Thank you, lad,” he smiled. “Make sure you get something to eat from the kitchens before you return.” Murmuring his thanks, the messenger bowed once more and turned to leave.

 

In the privacy of his own chambers, he opened the roll of parchment. Surprisingly enough, it was not a summons from his bat of a father to return home, but a reply from Count Maxwell. How like him, Dark mused. He answers informal letters not, but mention a pretty virgin in them and he slavers for more news. A cruel observation, perhaps, but one that was not without substance.

 

Daisuke:

 

Daisuke swallowed hard as he looked up at the imposing front of the church. He knew that it wasn't unusual to enter by himself, especially when he was just about to begin the day, he could not help but wonder whether the lightning of the Lord's vengeance would strike him down in the holy place.

 

“Who's there?” A blue-haired youth wearing spectacles emerged from a side door, his eyes and gait wary. Daisuke immediately noted the dagger at his waist, a sharp contrast to his green and brown clothing. “Who are you?” The blue-haired man asked once more.

 

“I-I'm Lord Daisuke,” the redhead stammered out. The other's presence caused him to feel like a child once more. The other looked him over before frowning lightly.

 

“You're looking for the priest,” he stated. Daisuke blinked, unsure of what to say. “Wait here.” There was nothing the lord could do except wait whilst the other fetched the priest from his room of wood and cotton. As he waited, Daisuke began the ritualistic words preceding a confession. Forgive me Father, for I have sinned…

 

Oh, h-ll. What have I done? Well, happy Easter everyone!