Who said I don't want you? He bends his head down for a kiss, an amused smile playing across his lips and -just barely- across his eyes. I arch my back to meet him. He has my arms pinned up high above my head, pressed into the pillows that have been tossed to the very top. His weight isn't hard to bear, it's a comfort. It's a prelude. It's an intro I hope never ends.
You did, yesterday when you called me a pain in the a- but his lips are back and he eats the word right out of my mouth and then whatever else I was going to say. I've forgotten by now. It wasn't important.
Dinner was a glass of wine on the balcony. A barometre and an omission. An admission and a plea. A reminder. A moment. My stomach growls and he laughs and says hush, you. We'll deal with you later. I laugh as I'm turned over, briefly weightless and breathing deeply for a moment before it's all taken away again by the return of his body pressed against mine. He pulls my face up and kisses me once more before letting go. Before systematically and sinfully removing everything I had on, even the extras because it was cold when the sun went down.
Finally, he breathes and we're moving together. Everything aches in the best way possible and I give in, arching my chin up to press my head against his chest, fighting his hold on my hands, trying to wrap my hands around the back of his head and pull him back down with me to stay. He pins me more firmly and laughs. Stay put, Peanut. Then before I can protest I am on my back again, his arms around me, in close, breathing the same air, basking in the same heat, keeping time with the same heartbeat until those beats slow down and the sun comes back up, a whole new day in which to fuck everything up.
So do we mark thirteen years old from fragmented, iron rule into total hedonism or what?
We do.
How should we?
First by acknowledging that I want you indeed.
You sure? I hold my breath.
More than anything. It's us against the world. Same as ever, Bridgie. Lochlan laces his fingers into mine, pulling my hand up to his face, kissing the back of it.
Second?
Second by keeping boundaries.
I nod. I'm still holding my breath here.
Actual boundaries, Fidget. Not just lip service to them.
I nod again.
What?
This doesn't sound like total hedonism to me. I laugh and he looks amazed.
Jesus, you're right.
You guys were always too serious.
There was so much at stake.
If it's us against the world and everything is okay then don't worry so much about the rules. Boundaries. Whatever. I sign the word to him as I say it, just for effect and he laughs.
Nice.
You did, yesterday when you called me a pain in the a- but his lips are back and he eats the word right out of my mouth and then whatever else I was going to say. I've forgotten by now. It wasn't important.
Dinner was a glass of wine on the balcony. A barometre and an omission. An admission and a plea. A reminder. A moment. My stomach growls and he laughs and says hush, you. We'll deal with you later. I laugh as I'm turned over, briefly weightless and breathing deeply for a moment before it's all taken away again by the return of his body pressed against mine. He pulls my face up and kisses me once more before letting go. Before systematically and sinfully removing everything I had on, even the extras because it was cold when the sun went down.
Finally, he breathes and we're moving together. Everything aches in the best way possible and I give in, arching my chin up to press my head against his chest, fighting his hold on my hands, trying to wrap my hands around the back of his head and pull him back down with me to stay. He pins me more firmly and laughs. Stay put, Peanut. Then before I can protest I am on my back again, his arms around me, in close, breathing the same air, basking in the same heat, keeping time with the same heartbeat until those beats slow down and the sun comes back up, a whole new day in which to fuck everything up.
So do we mark thirteen years old from fragmented, iron rule into total hedonism or what?
We do.
How should we?
First by acknowledging that I want you indeed.
You sure? I hold my breath.
More than anything. It's us against the world. Same as ever, Bridgie. Lochlan laces his fingers into mine, pulling my hand up to his face, kissing the back of it.
Second?
Second by keeping boundaries.
I nod. I'm still holding my breath here.
Actual boundaries, Fidget. Not just lip service to them.
I nod again.
What?
This doesn't sound like total hedonism to me. I laugh and he looks amazed.
Jesus, you're right.
You guys were always too serious.
There was so much at stake.
If it's us against the world and everything is okay then don't worry so much about the rules. Boundaries. Whatever. I sign the word to him as I say it, just for effect and he laughs.
Nice.