The Mirror

Green eyes met their reflection in the full-length mirror. They were clear, the color of precious emeralds, faceted so they sparked with mischief and innocence, an ironic combination. Allowing his eyes to wander slightly, Kurama surveyed the bright red hair that framed his heart shaped face. He enjoyed the contrast between his dark eyes, pale skin and brightly colored hair. He brought his slim fingers up to brush his bangs to the side, sweeping the sanguine locks to the side, savoring the smooth texture as the strands slipped from between his digits, falling lightly against his forehead again. His fingers lightly traced his cheek as his eyes followed the reflected motion in the mirror, sliding along the graceful arch of his cheekbone. At the fullest part of his cheek, he paused, before tracing a line back toward his ear. The light touch ghosting over the fine hairs of his face sent waves of sensation through his fingertips and along the nerves of his face. Slowly, he traced the shell of his ear, hesitating on the fleshy lobe before allowing his fingers to wander along his jaw line, his skin still smooth though it was the end of the day. He reached his chin, his eyes still following the progress of his fingers and around his face, and hesitated. Lightly, he reached up with his index finger to brush his full lower lip while the remaining fingers remained on his chin. A shock traveled through his body at the touch, and he repeated it before his hand slipped under his jaw and down his neck to the collar of his pink school uniform.

Why pink? He’d never quite understood that. It didn’t really suit him, but he wore it anyways. He brought up his other hand and began to slowly work the hooks holding the stiff collar around his slender neck. Freeing the graceful column from the confines of the collar, he slipped his hands around his neck, massaging lightly as his eyes returned to meet their reflection. His eyes were darkening as he felt the first stirrings of arousal course through his body. Looking over at his desk, he decided he wanted to continue in the mirror, but would need support later on. He drew his chair over to sit in front of the mirror and stood behind it, returning his hands to the uniform jacket. Slowly, his hands worked each button, slipping the small plastic disk through the hemmed hole that held it. One by one, down his chest and abdomen, each disk was undone and the jacket now hung open on his shoulders. Looking in the mirror again, Kurama brought his hands up and caressed his neck once more before moving his hands to push the fabric of the jacket off his shoulders. His elbows bent, catching the jacket before it fell, Kurama surveyed the lines of his shoulders under the clean white tee shirt he wore under his jacket. His shoulders were narrow, graceful, belonging to a dancer. He tipped his head to one side, watching as his crimson locks fell over his shoulder, the weight pleasantly light and heavy at the same time. He bent his head and looked at his hands a moment, looking at his smooth palms, bringing his fingers once again to trace the rim of his lips before returning his gaze to the mirror and allowing his hands to fall to his sides, the rough fabric sliding down his arms, revealing the pale skin under the short sleeves of the tee. He caught the jacket with his hands just before it fully left him and tossed it over to his bed. He stepped around the chair, his eyes locked on his torso as he moved, taking in the sway of his shoulders and the flowing lines that traveled up from his hips, propelling his body through space. Standing between the chair and the mirror his eyes focused on his hands as the skimmed his body from waist to shoulder, again sliding around his neck. Once more, he looked into his eyes, his tongue coming out to moisten his lips that were beginning to redden with his growing excitement. Reluctantly, his eyes left the pouting moue and followed his hands down to his waist again.

Kurama took a deep breath, wrapping his arms around his waist, his fingers pulling at the knit fabric that was tucked into the cinched waistband of his uniform pants. Slowly, working from his spine around, his arms crossed over his body, he pulled the white tee free from his pink pants, letting the fabric fall, slightly wrinkled from where it’d been tucked in. Again, he trailed his hands along his abdomen up his chest, stopping this time to savor the tingling sensations as his fingers ghosted over his nipples. The barest hint of a moan made it’s way from his throat. His eyes wandered down and he could see the beginnings of arousal stirring in his still covered shaft. He smiled slightly at the sight, anticipation beginning to build for the coming activity. Kurama took a deep breath, reining in his building desire to keep focused on his continued dance of seduction. Slowly, he slid his hands under the hem of his shirt, sliding along his pants outwards from the zipper to his sides, his thumbs just ghosting along his skin. Again, a moan made its way up from his throat, and his eyes began to grow heavy. Languidly, he slid his hands upwards, working them inwards, caressing the smooth skin of his stomach over his firm muscles. Outward his hands worked again, slipping higher, bringing the shirt up so he could now see his navel and the lines that marked the boundaries of his muscles, flexing slightly as his body adjusted to his sensual assault. Once more his hands moved inward, his fingers finally finding the raised nubs on his chest. With a sigh, he sat down, letting his fingers caress and pinch the pebbled flesh while his head fell back to watch in the mirror. Slightly louder than before, a moan rose from his throat and he could feel the sound under his fingers as it vibrated up from his diaphragm. A bit of discontent lingered in his mind at the sight. He needed the shirt to be off. He wanted to see his fingers work, so disregarding his prior pace, he pulled the shirt off over his head and tossed it to the bed.

Now bare to the waist, Kurama surveyed his chest. His nipples drew his eye, the pinkly brown flesh standing out against his fair skin. Again, his tongue came out to moisten his lips and he brought his fingers of both hands to his mouth, licking the tips of the index finger and thumb on each hand before returning them to minister to his sensitive flesh. He groaned again, watching his fingers as they rolled the pebbled flesh, the motion sending currents of pleasure to his ever-growing erection. His eyes wandered from his nipples to survey his pink covered arousal. He moaned, his fingers continuing to work on his nipples as he watched his shaft tremble. He wanted to touch it, but he also wanted to draw out his pleasure as long as possible. Slowly, his hands began to wander downwards, caressing his chest, his abdomen, circling his navel with one hand while the other slid lower. Sliding his hand over his covered erection and stroking it gently, he began to finger the indent of his stomach in time to his strokes. The dual sensation caused him to buck into his hand. Another groan, louder, made its way out of his throat as he could feel the pleasure clouding his mind. He wasn’t sure how much longer he’d be able to hold off. Reluctantly he pulled his hands away from his body and looked again at his reflection, a little surprised to see the swollen parted lips, the flushed cheeks, the green eyes looking hungry staring back at him. He wanted to have the one in the mirror, wanted to take him, to make love to him in the most erotic way possible. He smiled slightly as he realized that he could.

Slowly, Kurama stood again, his hands caressing his face once more, slipping down his neck and shoulders, fingers brushing past his nipples on their way lower. Deliberately, watching his nimble digits in the mirror, he unfastened his pants, watching the metal button slide through the gripping hole. He watched a shudder travel his abdomen as his fingers torturously lowered the zipper, tooth by tooth. He groaned but refused to move any faster, drawing out the agony of waiting as he would with any other lover. Finally the zipper reached the last fastening, the fabric standing open, revealing white briefs that bore evidence of his arousal in the growing wetness at the head of his contained erection. He ghosted his fingers along the straining member, feeling it twitch into his touch with both his fingers and his groin. He moaned at the sensation and fought to bring his hand upwards, again caressing his abdomen before using both hands to push the offensive pink cloth off his hips and kicking them to one side, not bothering to bend over and toss them to the bed.

Again, green eyes surveyed the newly revealed flesh. Sinewy cords of muscle covered by satiny skin led from the ground to where the white briefs still hid the apex of his legs. Kurama’s hand ghosted along the exposed thigh, gradually reaching the rolled hem that marked the lower border of the white garment. He moaned as his hands slid back, caressing his taught ass gently before slipping forward and upwards to allow his fingers under the waistband. Looking into the mirror, admiring his encased length, he watched as he stretched the elastic band away from his body. Licking his lips, he succumbed to the temptation and looked into the gaping fabric. A low moan traveled up from his hips as his eyes took in the sight of his weeping erection staring back up at him. Unable to hold back anymore, he shoved the unwanted fabric down his legs and kicked it off in the same general direction as his pants.

Kurama’s eyes fastened on his now revealed erection in the mirror. His tongue again reached out to taste his lips as his emerald orbs traced the flared head to where it curved under, joining the smooth shaft that jutted proudly from the tuft of hair that matched the color of his flowing locks. His eyes traced the path of the large vein that pulsed with his increasing heartbeat, a throb that he could feel and see. Sitting on the edge of the chair, he spread his legs, his eyes caressing the smooth skin of his sac as he settled back. His eyes wandered lower as his hands began to caress his hips and upper thighs. Rocking his hips, he spread the firm muscles of his ass and eyed his puckered hole, feeling and seeing it pulse as the erotic feeling of vulnerability swept over him. Another groan rumbled up his body as he met his eyes again.

The need for release was growing stronger as Kurama allowed his hand the freedom to touch his aching shaft. A soft gasp fell from his lips as he rocked into the tentative touch. He focused his gaze on his hand in the mirror, watching as it drew the velvety skin up along the steal beneath, his fingers rubbing over the head of his shaft before his hand slid back down, squeezing slightly. His other hand moved to caress his balls, gently fondling the delicate organs as he felt his body tensing. He was close, but he wanted a little more before he allowed himself to go over that edge. With his lower hand, he pressed against the area between his tightening sac and the puckered opening, rubbing firmly in small circles. The hand on his shaft convulsed as pleasure coursed through him and he stroked faster and harder, feeling the razor sharp edge of orgasm fast approaching. With a deep groan and gasp, he felt his shaft pulse in his hand and watched as the thick white fluid arced from the head of his cock and onto his abdomen and chest. Panting, he met his eyes again, seeing a look of satiety and satisfaction within the dark green orbs. He allowed his body to relax, enjoying the look of completion that washed over him as his hands continued to hold his deflating erection and throbbing sac. With a sigh, he allowed his eyes to drift closed, lips smiling as he enjoyed the post orgasmic lull in energy and motivation. His hands moved slowly to caress his abdomen, smearing the cooling white cum around, using it to slick the motions as his breathing returned to normal. Slowly opening his eyes, he yawned a bit before stretching and standing up from the chair, returning it to his desk and grabbing a robe from his closet. Wiping his hands on his discarded tee shirt and tossing it into the hamper, he dressed in the robe and left the room to take a shower.


A/N There was a reason I wrote this. I read my stuff....well...parts of it...to a writer's group and they wanted to know what Kurama looked like since my descriptions of the other characters had improved...and this is how I answered that challenge. Their comments were that he seemed a bit stuck on himself and now I should describe Youko similarly...only Youko was likely to actually try and do the mirror (yes, they made that comment without my prompting) Anyways...I wrote this in a vehicle on a laptop while holding a conversation...I'm surprised it makes any sense at all ;) Enjoy and review

Oh, yeah, I don't own him as much as I'd like to...