Cutie

Cutie.

By Riddle.

If you would like to speak with me, or discuss any aspects of my story, please contact me at "littleriddler@gmail.com." Thank you.

And of course, to all Nifty Readers, if you enjoy this story or anything else on this beloved website, please donate at "http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html." Even a small amount is an act of kindness, that will help keep this wonderful website continuing.

And of course, given by the website title, and the genre and sexuality this is marked under, this story will contain highly explicit sexual activity between two young men, as well as an actual romance. I am not forcing you to read it, and if you feel it disturbs you or you are too young to be reading it, please, leave now. However, keep in mind that this story is not just sex, and there is a plot to it. Thank you! :)

Also, note: This takes place in the future, in a different society, with a different sort of culture, clothing, and technology. Hope this clarifies some details.

-Riddle

Chapter 1

My head pulsed like a million men had took hold of it and were attempting to pull it apart.

Of course I mean this figuratively, but you get the jist.

The air of the restaurant was so dense with perfume, the music so loud, that I could barely breathe, let alone think. The fact that mother felt this was an adequate place to dine was beyond me, though she always liked extravagant things. Or maybe it was the fact that the menu had a larger selection of wine and liquor than it did entrees. Yeah, it was probably that. But if she truly wanted to attend "Lemphen's Winery" for our Friday night meal, then I really have no say against it. She is my mother after all.

Of course, Severa and Gul were having the time of their lives. Now that Severa and I were 18, she took every excuse she could to indulge in wine. "Helps keep anxiety from dirtying her aura," or something like that. Gul, though, he didn't like to drink. It was the atmosphere he loved. He was my eldest brother, and yet I'd never met someone so different than I. He thrived off of the energy of others, the way they spoke and communicated, the rollercoaster of liquid emotion they experience in just a single conversation. If they refused to speak, then he would speak for them. And oh, he could speak quite well. I, however. I was...different.

Not that there was anything particularly wrong with me. But I was insecure and I was shy, and I preferred the companies of books over others. And while there was nothing inherently wrong with that, our Kingdom was not in love with the idea of introverts. Nevertheless, I thrived. In fact, I thrived quite well, and had just received word earlier that day that I would become an apprentice to Dr. SeLuna, a successful biological engineer. No matter how out of place I may have been, I had a future ahead of me, even if it was one predominately spent in a lab, clad with a white coat and strap-on goggles. Yes, even so, it was something, something better than what those on the other planet had. And for that, I was endlessly happy.

And so I sat pleasantly in my chair, tracing my spoon along the remains of my appetizer, listening to the jovial ramblings of my two siblings.

Suddenly, a hand gently pressed my shoulder. Mother.

"Sevren," she began, smiling wearily at me from tired, sagging eyes. "Are you alright? You've been sitting there, fidgeting with your food for the past five minutes."

"Ah, am I?" I let out a chuckle. "I'm sorry, I have quite a lot on my mind."

"It's okay. I've just been worried about you. You've seemed so down lately. I know you've had to do so much work, what with your apprenticeship orientation and all. You're...okay with it, right? The apprenticeship. You're not having second guesses or anything?"

"No, mother." I replied, clasping onto her frail hand. "To be honest, I'm thrilled I got the apprenticeship. I was worried that, with all my mental health issues, the government wouldn't allow me to work within a scientific field. But they did, and for that, I'm very, very thankful."

"You are? You really, really are?"

"Yes, mom, I am. I actually get to do something I like for a living, and I can't imagine a better turnout."

"Then...what is it?"

"What is what?"

"Why are you upset?"

I sighed. "I'm not upset, mother. I'm just...tired. I've had a long week."

She raised her eyebrows, as if to imply that she knew better than to believe me. "I'm certain it's not just that. You're usually chipper as a mouse, even after a long week."

"I'm telling you mom, it's really-"

"Is it because of your engagement?"

Ay, there's the rub. What was it with weathered women and seemingly perfect intuition? Of course it was the engagement. Of course I did not want to marry Loressa De'Attruse, or her closet full of vibrant hair dyes and lipsticks. Of course, I did not find her romantically attractive in any way shape or form. I did not hate her, but I was in no position to be proclaiming my undying love for her and fucking her nightly. Of course, I could bring to mind my repressed thoughts as to why I was not attracted to a tall, lithe woman with chocolatey skin and the face of an angel. But I wouldn't do that. No, I simply just didn't find her appealing, she just wasn't my type of girl. Though it wasn't really my choice on the matter, who I married. It was fathers, after all.

"Perhaps." I replied, glancing down at my feet.

"Do you really not like her? I know she may not be as...intellectually focused as you are, but she's a kindhearted girl. And she's so lovely, and talented at singing."

"I know mother, I know. I just, would have preferred to have chosen my wife. I'm only 18 after all..."

"I know." Mother murmured, finally letting go of my arm to take a wisp of her blood red wine. "But it's just how things are. We live in a land where status power outweigh our thoughts and feelings. I was forced into a marriage with your father. Severa will marry Lord Mulas the third, and Gul, well...he is a monk, he does not have to marry should he not chose to. But you could not handle life as a monk, my dear Sevren. There are too many people involved!" She laughed, and downed far too much wine for a fifty-four year old woman who has survived two organ transplants.

"Yes, yes," I remarked, looking to see if there was any meat left on my grilled deerish. There wasn't, what a shame. "I can hardly speak to you, let alone anyone else on this planet."

"And that is why, you must be married! Trust me, marriage forces you out of your shell like a freshly plucked chicken. Even if you won't like your spouse at first, you grow to. And we made sure you aren't marrying a psychopath."

"Yeah, I know, mom. I know," I grunted, although by then she had already turned to speak with my sister.

And really, I did know. I was given a wife suited for a king, at least by classic definition. Loressa was pretty and an A class citizen. She might be stingy and rude to other girls, but at least she was mentally stable and relatively innocent. She claimed to be a virgin, although I doubt she actually was, but I didn't care either way. The thought of forcing myself into her smelly little fold repulsed me to the core no matter it's state. Whether or not it was virginal was the least of my worries.

I begun to contemplate why I found vaginas so damned boring and nasty in the first place, when I heard a voice behind me.

"Your food is ready, sir," it - or rather, he - said, practically speaking into my ear.

To this day I'm not quite sure what about the voice was so intriguing, but whatever it was, it got me out of my mental tangent. His voice was rather deep, and very smooth, like someone had layered butter over it. At the same time, it was almost raspy, as if he was out of breath. It was beautiful, I can tell you that, and my idiotic self just couldn't stop from turning around to see the owner of said voice.

And when I did, I couldn't help but gawk.

He stood leaning slightly on one foot, with a plate a food in hand. He was tall - very tall - and had skin the color of caramel. What race was he? I couldn't quite place it. He was wearing a server's garments, but his sleeves were rolled up, revealing two very muscular forearms. The garments themselves were fitted, and it didn't take a lot of imagination to tell that this man was athletically inclined. He had broad shoulders, and a torso that started very wide and slowly fell into a thin, elegant waist. If I squinted I could make out the outline of his pectoral muscles, amongst other things, through his shirt. Even his hands were attractive, large and rough with a touch of hair on his knuckles. But it wasn't his body that made me practically forget my own existence.

It was his goddamn face.

Surely it was physically impossible for a real man to have a face that handsome. Surely I had never seen someone in person who looked like that. But then again, this man was truly standing in front of me. His eyes were angular and deep-set, earthy brown, with long, dark lashes. They were large on his face, and reminded me faintly of a puppy's stare. His eyebrows and straight nose framed his eyes perfectly, and as I continued to stare, I noted that he was slightly freckled. His cheekbones were high and prominent, his jaw was chiseled like a monument, and even his lips were lovely, full and pink with a faint cupid's bow. He had no facial hair, and looked to be about my age. His hair was dark brown, long, messy, and straight, and fell almost past his chin. His tousled bangs fell slightly into one of his eyes, which only further emphasized how vibrant and lovely they were.

He was almost ethereally lovely, and my eyes could not seem to pull away.

After what seemed to be an entirety, those lips of his turned up into a coy grin.

"Something on my face, good sir?" He asked, gazing straight into my, likely very wide and pathetic looking, eyes.

"A-ah...uh..n-no, sir. I-I must've space out." I stuttered, my face becoming hot and itchy.

"Is that so? Well, then there must be something on your face."

"T-there is?"

"Well, not really." His eyes crinkled with mischief. "It is very, very red, though."

"Ah!" I shouted, which earned a couple looks from another table. "I-I apologize. Was I staring? Oh, my... I mean... you see I am a bit awkward at times and I-"

He let out a small chuckle. Oh, was it a holy sound. "It's okay, I don't mind. Although, your food will get cold if you wait too long."

"Oh, r-right. That's a thing. Food's a thing, I like food."

"So do I," he responded, while laying my sauteed rice and vegetables in front of me. Something about the way he said it sounded awfully...promiscuous, though it may have just been the timbre of his voice.

I was about to thank him for delivering my food, when he reached down and murmured something in my ear.

"I'm Dante, by the way. I don't know your name, but I like your blonde hair. Meet me at eight o'clock in the men's restroom on the far right, if you like."

Before I could even voice a response, he whisked himself away. Even so, his hot breath lingered on my neck, and I felt my heart beat as quick as a mouse. I turned slightly to see where he had gone, but all I could make out was a blur of his dark hair as he entered the kitchen. When he had truly gone out my sight, I turned around again, and attempted to slowly inhale and exhale through my diaphragm, as my therapist had suggested.

However, I couldn't manage to calm myself. Not even in the slightest. Not even an ounce or a morsel or a morsel of an ounce. The realization of what had just happened to me washed over like a wave drowning an unexpecting victim, and I couldn't even begin to touch my food.

What the hell had just happened? Was I reading too much into it? Of course I was not. No one who wants to simply be your friend asks you to meet them later on. But why? As tough as this man - Dante - looked, he didn't seem set to harm me, or commit any act of thievery. He obviously was intimating something flirtatious, but then what? Why? Why me? I was terribly average. I hadn't even the self confidence to admit my own sexual perversion, my stubborn attraction to my own sex, to myself, even when I touched myself at night to thoughts of other men. Sure, I was not terrible looking, but compared to him, I was a weak and feeble shadow. Maybe he could sense my attraction to him, and wanted to expose me for who I really am? Maybe he truly did reciprocate my desires? Maybe he...

Well, what did it matter? If the throbbing erection in my pants wasn't enough of an indication, I didn't really have another choice. Whatever this strange, elusive Dante had in mind when he said he wanted to meet me later, I didn't care. Anything was more intriguing than speaking of gossip in a room that smelled of sweat, rotten roses, and garlic at the same time. And I definitely wanted to see his face again.

Ah... that face.

I waited patiently for the clock to reach eight. After eating a few bites of my food and chugging at least 200 calories of "Caramel Fizz Delight," my erection went down enough for me to actually participate in human interaction. Although, it didn't last terribly long. By the time seven-fifty rolled around, I was so antsy, I could have danced myself to the moon (or jerk myself off seventy times.) I couldn't handle anymore stories about the horrors of the empire below us, or gossip about our current king, and I certainly did not have any patience for Gul gushing over this lovely girl with "wild and ravenous black hair" that he recently met.

So, I did the only sensible thing, and excused myself to go to the restroom. I expressed that my stomach hurt terribly, and that I may be in there for a while. I walked my way to the restroom, and slowly, but surely, opened its door.

The air inside was cool, and the quiet humming of the air conditioning was a pleasant alternative to the blaring thump of the electric harp. I checked my assistant, which read "7:54" in bright, clunky red letters. Relieved and impatient at the same time, I slid down the wall and set myself on the cold, wooden floor. I don't quite recall what happened next, although I must have fallen asleep. Because the next thing I knew, Dante was kneeling in front of me with a huge grin on his face.

Groggily, I looked over to my watch, which read "8:10."

"Sorry, my shift ran a bit late," Dante said, gesturing to the time.

"I-it's okay." I muttered, looking up at him and his pretty brown eyes. God, what a beautiful creature he was.

"Mmm, tired?" He reached out a caressed my shoulder slightly.

"I...I didn't think I was? But I guess so...I fell into sleep without even trying." I laughed slightly, realizing how idiotic I must have sounded. Oh woe was me, did I have sound so unintelligible around this man?

"That's okay. I'm sure I can wake you up." His eyes glinted mischievously, and I forced myself to look away.

But instead of looking away, my eyes drew downwards, until they fell onto his crotch. Of course, what was a perfect man without a perfectly sizable member? In the position he was in, I could make out that whatever was beneath his servant robes was likely very thick, and probably long as well. The more I looked at the bulge in his skirts, the more I could not stop myself from staring at it. It took me almost thirty seconds to look up at him again. Surprisingly, he was still looking right at me.

He smirked. "Do you like what you see?"

I blushed furiously. "Oh - um! I am sorry, you are quite... I am easily... I..."

"Ah, aren't you a cutie? Once again, it's quite okay."

"If...if you say so."

"Come, stand up," he said, as he did so himself.

Without even thinking about it, I stood myself up, my legs wobbly from the furiousness of my phallus. I looked up at him again. I was shorter than him, not terribly so, but a good two or three inches were between us.

"Do you like boys?" he asked rather bluntly, running his finger along the side of my cheek.

"Me? A-ah, well... I guess I do. Do you?"

His eyes met mine again. "I like boys very, very much, yes."

"Oh," I replied. "Is that why you wanted to meet me here?"

"Yes," he lowered his hand to my shoulder, and began to massage it again. "I noticed you from across the room before I ever went to serve you. I find you very attractive."

"Y-you find me attractive?"

"Indeed, I do."

"But- why me? You don't know me. I'm just... I'm just a..."

"Very cute boy who should better of himself, hmm? Although that's partially why you're so adorable. I love the way you talk."

"O-oh..ah...I'm not normally this bad."

"No? Well I hope I can hear more of how you normally speak, then. Though, anything you say will sound good to me."

"Y-you really know how to flatter...w-what do you want to do with me?" I shuddered slightly as his hand gripped my shoulder with more force, and his head turned towards my neck.

"I don't know quite yet. Though, I'd like it to involve me and you, very often."

He lifted his mouth towards my ear, sucking on it slightly, and I thought my legs would surely turn into molten jello.

"It can be whatever you want it to be, really. I just want to know you," he said, after his mouth let go of my ear. "What's your name?"

"S-sevren. Sevren De'Archer."

"Mm, what a nice name. You're from a rich family, huh?"

I blushed. "Er...we're not horribly rich, but....yes, I guess. I hope you don't think poorly of me for it.

"Hmm, well, Sevren, I don't care if you're from a rich snotty family, I'm not a bad guy," he lifted his hand up to my nose, and pinched it with two fingers. "Though I'm not amazing at controlling my impulses... and you've got an awfully cute little nose."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Heh, who nose."

I bit into my tongue. "O-oh god! Was that a pun? You're horrible already."

Letting go of my nose, he inched his face towards me, so that I could feel his hot, sweet breath. My mind wandered to other places I'd like his breath to be on. "I can be more horrible, if you'd like."

"I-I...I should get back to my family."

"Ah, that's right, family..." his mouth formed a slight frown. "Here, give me your assistant number."

As if in some kind of trance, I took out my assistant, and exchanged numbers with him.

"You should go back to your family now," he began, his lips curling up again. "Please, do message me when you have time. I'll make it worth your while."

And with that, he leaned down and shoved his mouth onto mine, before quickly walking away, as he had done before.

And though I felt insane for what I had just done, and my family would likely begin to worry where I was, I felt so incredibly good. I had just met Dante, barely knew him, but holy fuck was he something else.