ben lost
9-20-04

Narcissus/Dante intro

--

  "You'd think I'd get used to it after seventy odd years," said Narcissus.  
He wiped his pert mouth on a pillow case -- he wasn't sure when it'd been 
thrown clear of the bed -- and deposited it into thewastebasket with his 
earlier contribution.
  Dante reclined immodestly, hands clasped behind his head, his ivory locks 
mussed in a matter that suggested intelligent design.  Style out of chaos.  
The sheet resting on his lap - it boasted a thread count high enough to supply
a sorority of Norns - somehow rendered the scene more pornographic than mere 
nudity might have.  "It's your own fault, you know.  With all the poppy smoke 
passing those pretty little lips, it's a wonder you ever _stop_ vomiting."
  "I should have you installed in a fountain," Dante mused.  "Like a 
little stone cherub."
  "Have some sympathy, you haven't had a gag reflex in centuries."  Narcissus 
rinsed and spit, then towelled off the sweat lingering on his long torso. 
Even from behind, his ribs jutted visibly against his skin; like an Olsen 
twin, only considerably more feminine.  He rejoined Narcissus in bed.
  "Nor any other 'sympathetic' response, you'd do well to remember.  It's 
one of the better perks of the condition.  I suppose I should be happy you 
didn't throw up in bed."  Dante pulled Narcissus's head onto his lap.  The 
gesture was almost maternal, resembling only superficially the carnal 
exercise wrought only minutes earlier.
  Narcissus closed his eyes contentedly.  "I remember what you did to me 
the last time."
  "Do you?  It's slipped my mind, I'm afraid."   
  "You wouldn't touch me for a month.  Even look at me, for seven days," 
said Narcissus.
  Dante clucked his tongue.  "That long?  I can be cruel."
  Narcissus murmured unintelligibly.
  "Silence is acquiescence, we've established that well enough.  Think me 
cruel then; I can hardly be expected to keep track of a week or a month."
  Narcissus's arms twined around Dante's waist.  Dante shoved him out 
of bed; the latter landed on his feet, like a naked junkie cat.  "I despise 
you most of all when you're like this.  Just because I'm tired of forcing 
myself upon you for the moment doesn't mean we can cuddle."
  Narcissus inhaled sharply, a hiss in reverse.
  Dante levitated an emory board off the nightstand.  "I grow bored, 
Narcissus.  I should find you a woman."
  "No thank you.  They require too much effort.  Besides, if I want 
capriciousness and sadism I can come to you.  And if I want something 
more-- " Narcissus traced Dante's inner thigh.  "They have nothing to 
offer.
  "Step back for a moment."  Dante blew dust off his fingernails, and went 
to work on his other hand.  "Turn around.  Have you gained weight?"
  Narcissus paused mid-spin, crestfallen.  He surveyed his pale form, the 
shallow creases of his eight-pack, the stark silhouette of his 
inguinla ligaments, every exposed inch smooth, waxed, exfoliated and carefully
groomed.  His shoulders were scarcely wider than his hips; Dante could wrap 
one arm around his waist.  "Maybe some water weight?"
  Dante's expression turned severe.  "You know what I said about salty 
foods, Narcissus."
  "I'll do better."
  "Honestly, you can be such a disappointment.  Have you made any progress 
with the studies I assigned you?" Dante dismissed Narcissus' stillborn 
excuse "No, I already know.  Pondering some mystery.  Contemplating art.  
Some philosophize with a hammer, you philosophize with a pipe.  Why do I 
even keep you?"
  Narcissus stifled his stammer long enough to intone seven syllables.  
Dante's expression lightened; a feat, considering his normal tone.    
  "The third would reverse or nullify the purpose of any incantation you 
used it in.  The fifth would likely kill you, and the sixth would 
definitely give you genital herpes.  Again."
  Narcissus looked on the verge of tears.
  "It could have been worse.  Sometimes, my pet, you're almost adequate."  
Dante kissed him twice, paying no mind to the salt.