Beauxbatons is Closed.

Author Topic: Silhouettes (Lucas -- Patrol)  (Read 263 times)

Stefan E. Sinclair

    (September 23, 2012, 07:43:17 PM)
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It was after curfew.

He should've been in bed to catch up with his beauty sleep. But no, a little bird told him to meet by the entrance hall for a midnight rendezvous. That usually meant French-kissing for hours on end, and Brigitte just had the most succulent lips. Wait, wasn't that Elise? Non, Aurelie, then?

Mon Dieu, with the lot of girls he'd snogged in the past, he couldn't be certain which one had the most sensuous mouth. Even so, wasn't he risking a lot - dark circles were the bane of his existence - for a simple make-out session? He didn't want to miss out, that's what.

Stefan was a very, very frivolous man.

Therefore, when he got near the little alcove where he and his little lady friend had agreed to meet for their tryst, it was, perhaps only natural for him to pout at the tiny note propped up on the bench, not a woman in sight.

He'd come all the way here, way past his bedtime, risking his chances of being caught by a Prefet this late at night... only to be denied by a girl? This can't be, the charming Stefan had never been once stood up by anyone before!

Merde.

Ruffling his caramel-hued curls, the young man heaved himself onto the bench, uncharacteristically bummed, crumpling the note in his balled fists. For the very first time, he felt rejected. And as much as he wanted to hit the wall with his fist - taking out his frustrations seemed appealing at this moment - he couldn't risk popping out his knuckles.

A painter's instrument were his hands, he told himself.

Even so, as Stefan ruminated upon the importance of having flawless digits, footsteps echoed along the hall. And only when the footsteps came to be just a few feet away from him, did Stefan look up, his expression like that of a deer caught in a car's headlights. Stunned with his lips parted in a soundless 'O'.

Merde.

He hadn't planned on getting caught at all.
« Last Edit: September 23, 2012, 07:45:16 PM by Stefan E. Sinclair »

Lucas Vanhelm

    (September 23, 2012, 08:02:30 PM)
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It's not really that he was a first-class student nor the best Prefét out of all, but he decided to go on one last patrol trough the school before calling it a day and put down his duties. Oh no, it was his want to get someone busted, caught outside dorms after curfew so they'd get punished for their silly little crimes.

Simply said, he was sadist of all aspects. He liked to ruin other people's lives once in a while for own amusement and this Prefét post was the perfect opportunity.

So right now, as the dark-haired french boy walked trough the, amazingly silent, school, his ears were perking for the slightest creek of door, low sound of muffled steps or anything else that could speak of someone being outside after the allowed hours.

It was an hour later that his lips had set in annoyed frown, his hands deep in pockets and his eyes sharply glaring down the objects he met of his way. This was not his night, it seemed. An hour he could have spent reading was now wasted and Lucas hated wasting his time when he gained no satisfaction from it. But he had no say in the order of how things went, so, heaving a sigh, the boy turned to take one last trip to entrance hall before heading to dorms.

And that is where luck smiled upon him. As the boy approached the hall, his ears caught some sounds of something alive ahead. His eyes sparked in evil joy, his footstep pace becoming a bit faster as he entered the said space. It wasn't long until his eyes settled on all too familiar person on a bench. ''sneaking around with girls again, Stefan?'' he spoke in slightly hushed voice, the evil joy seeping trough. He pulled out his wand, pointing it at the other boy, just in case ''so where's your newest girlfriend?''

Stefan E. Sinclair

    (September 25, 2012, 07:16:55 PM)
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Stefan started at the disembodied voice, making a little squeak at the figure that coalesced from the shadows. Where'd Lucas come from all of a sudden?

Ah, right, he was a Prefét, now, wasn't he? It was just natural for him to be stalking the hallways at this time of the night. Even so, it did not give him a right to scare people half to death.

"Lucas, 'tis only you. I was ju-"

He saw the wand and gave pause.

"Come now, Lucas. Put that thing away," he cajoled the other boy, holding up his hands in a deferential manner. He meant no harm, and quite frankly, Stefan was no more life-threatening in his pyjamas than a bloody squirrel. Unless you counted his expertise in swapping spit with a lover, Stefan was relatively harmless.

He sighed at Lucas' redundant jab about his love life.

"You would know." Stefan murmured, his initial fear diminished, his tone grew irksome. He'd been friends with Lucas for as long as the he could remember, surely, for all the things they've been through, the boy would know it by now?

Stefan Sinclair did not commit, nor did he believe in love. At the moment, the term 'girlfriend' tasted foul upon his tongue.

"Gone," he gestured dismissively at the air around him, shrugging his shoulders, before he added bitterly, "Apparently, something's more important than me. So important, she risked passing up a perfect opportunity."

"Her loss, oui?" The boy supplied a frail smirk, cornflower-blue eyes glinting with mischief.

"She'll never know what these lips will taste like."

Lucas Vanhelm

    (September 26, 2012, 06:52:23 PM)
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The squeak, it was like some odd music to Lucas' ears; he loved to take people by surprise, especially if it rang no good news to the surprised party. Even if it was not nearly the first time Lucas had caught Stefan by surprise, be it sneaking around the school late or just suddenly approaching the boy in the middle of the day, it never left Lucas bored. Years and years had passed, but he still enjoyed.

And then Stefan noticed Lucas' wand. The armed boy grinned in a small grin, his head tilted to the side as if wondering what to do with the other, not speaking one word since his last question, just studying Stefan and his choice of clothing for wandering around the school at this hour.

A small laugh escaped Lucas' mouth at Stefan's words, his wand still raised and pointed at the other ''oh I believe she missed out on something grand'' he looked the other boy up and down once more ''frankly, I have other duties than listening to your stories about how great of a kisser you are.'' he took a few steps closer to his old friend; one of the few he actually held for longer than a month to a year. Oh no, he knew Stefan for years and years now, since the time Lucas was still oblivious about the power one could hold once becoming a real wizard.

His dark eyes trailed Stefan's lips for a brief moment before inching closer until the tip of his wand was pressing against other boy's chest. Then Lucas tilted his head again, leaning closer to his old friend, a sly grin on his features ''I should report you for your crimes~'' he spoke, his tone already suggesting he had other options ready to give other. ''Unless you could somehow buy your way out'' he looked at Stefan's lips once more, then back to stare in other boy's eyes.

Stefan E. Sinclair

    (October 01, 2012, 07:19:16 PM)
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He had to admire the boy's nerve.

No, that wasn't the only thing, though, was it? Other than the malicious streak the boy was born with (he'd known him long enough to anticipate Lucas' playful cruelty - perhaps, his own way of showing affection?), Stefan's cornflower blue gaze fell soft upon much softer lips.

And, he wondered.

Wondered how the lips of the opposite sex would feel like and taste? Would they be as pliant as a girl's, as sensuous and sweet? Stefan dropped his gaze, shaking his head out of his mind's queer stupor. What was he thinking? Lucas was a long-time friend, and besides, he was a boy, like he was.

It wasn't like he wasn't he knew nothing about these matters. His own beloved cousin, Landon, had veered in such a... subversive direction himself. Even so, France was the country of love, passion and frivolity, was it not? A Frenchman, like himself, had the privilege to cavort freely with whomever he felt like fooling around with. There was nothing wrong with that, surely?

Right?

Stefan felt a sharp jab at his chest, he did his best not to flinch. Still, he couldn't quite prevent himself from gasping, in fear or indignation, the curly-haired boy did not really know. He was certain, however, that a bruise would most likely appear on his skin overnight, marring his porcelain skin.

"That is going to leave a most horrid mark, Lucas."

As most of Beauxbatons's student body would know by now - so would Lucas, he assumed - Stefan was a very particular young man. He took pride in his looks, revelled in his apparent vanity, almost comparable to the mythical Narcissus, who'd fallen in love with his own reflection. While Stefan had not yet reached that point of conceitedness, he did obsess about his appearance more fervently than any normal human being would.

He was Vanity with a capital V.

"B-Buy my way out, Lucas?" Stefan tried not to stutter but Lucas was dangerously close, now. Their proximity to each other was enough to make him uncomfortable. It was so different compared to his usual hook-ups with... females. The atmosphere alone could suffocate him, the smouldering gazes paralysed and rendered him speechless.

It was... exciting and frightening, at the same time.

Girls could make him feel this way, yes, especially their trysts were on the brink of being a publicity stunt, exceedingly risky, what with the adults crawling the Academy. Even so, Stefan thrived on those moments of boldness, with girls. But boys, Lucas Vanhelm, for that matter? He wondered and wondered still.

"There's nothing I could possibly give you."

But his mind had already ventured to the forbidden, as did his eyes.

Mon Dieu, how...succulent.

No, Lucas wouldn't probably feel the same about it, would he?

And then, it happened. 

Lucas Vanhelm

    (October 09, 2012, 02:54:04 PM)
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"That is going to leave a most horrid mark, Lucas."

Lucas couldn't help, letting his expression grow into a wider smirk; how vain the other could be, it was so very fascinating. But also so much fun to play with. When they were younger, Lucas would slip his hands to ruffle Stefan's hair just to annoy the boy, then as they grew and Lucas became meaner the marks of his works tended to become longer-lasting.

Like right now - the tip of Lucas wand, at fist just poking as other boy's shirt had now started burning a hole in the pajamas and would eventually catch that porcelain skin, leaving a mark of this night, but not strong enough to become a permanent one.

As the prefet boy leaned closer, he found his face close to others' and it was thrilling, because he liked to play around. Stefan had a long record of girls he had gotten involved with and Lucas wanted to break the straight choices the boy made. For a long time Lucas noticed how the boy was, he wanted to take away that simplicity in the sea of what Stefan was. It was not the first time the thought of kissing Stefan just for the fun of it crossed his mind.

And now they were here, the taller boy clearly being dominated by the slightly shorter male who at least had a wand and intentions of receiving something from the formed situation.

"There's nothing I could possibly give you."

But Lucas already saw that the taller boy had a good idea of what could be given as sacrifice. ''Good boy'' Lucas sighed out, his teeth baring in a light grin, his wand still poking at Stefan's chest.

It was a green light in all the possible matters.

So, not really hesitating, Lucas closed what little space was between them, his head tilted to the side, lips finding Stefan's [which were as soft as one would imagine from an expert kisser like him] in a kiss that Lucas had decided not to pull out of just yet. He wanted something more than childish pecks on lips, he wanted to test Stefan in his art of french kissing. It had been a few years until he finally had the chance and Lucas was not going to waste it.

Stefan E. Sinclair

    (October 20, 2012, 02:52:12 PM)
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He had not expected the kiss to be that good.

Mon Dieu
, if he had been a girl, he would've already turned to slush.

Kissing Lucas was something that flitted across his mind time and time again. It tickled the darker thoughts that lingered beyond the usual sunshine and rainbows (and girls) that'd normally usurped them. Curiosity never really killed the cat, did it?

Well, now that his curiosity had been addressed... What did he think of it? For sure, he liked it, no doubt about that. He reciprocated, didn't he? Kissed back with as much fervor as a normal youth with raging hormones would. Oh, yes. Stefan liked kissing boys almost as much as he liked kissing girls.

Merde.

Was he losing his mind?

Stefan pulled back, pushing at the Prefet with both hands, his breath coming in frustrated puffs. What was he thinking? Was he becoming like his cousin Landon? The fact that he was already questioning his sexuality was bad enough. He had nothing against homophilic relationships, he just wasn't sure he liked it enough to stay in it. While the thought didn't exactly sit well with him, he couldn't just avoid it altogether. What would Maman say?

"Lucas," rasped Stefan, placing a slender finger on his own swollen lips. His lips had been touched by another man. He was never going to be the same. What was a poor boy like him ought to do, now? Tuck his tail between his legs and run?

Lucas would probably snigger at his cowardice. He knew the boy enough to acknowledge the fact that he was prone to take pleasure from the misery of others. Stefan didn't want to give his friend that sort of satisfaction.

The curly-haired boy looked away, eyes fixed upon a cherub statue lounging at one corner. The rock likeness of Eros mocked him, its heart-tipped arrow poised towards him and Lucas. Conasse, even statues lectured him on love. What, love conquers all?

Blasphemy.

"I should leave, Lucas."

Pretend nothing happen, that's what he would do.

It probably was for the best. 




« Last Edit: October 20, 2012, 02:54:41 PM by Stefan E. Sinclair »

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