I know it's not exactly polite to throw stones at someone's window, but I properly calculate which one is Orlando's, and I throw a few, waiting for him to come to the window...if he's even there.
I hope he is, for my sake. It's been a long couple of days, and I hadn't gotten a chance to talk to him.
I know had promised myself I'd make it a habit to be around more often, but after hearing about Katrina. . .Well. It had been a long few days of donating to the Red Cross what I could. A couple hundred and then why stop there? I went charity crazy, gave to One and Feed the Children. It had made me feel better about myself, that I had somehow made a difference. That there were families who were going to eat tonight because of me.
But the only person I really wanted to see happy right now was Orlando. I had held off a thousand dollars in his name. I thought it might cheer him up, to make a donation. He loved New Orleans as much as I did.
When he refuses to answer his door though, I get a little miffed but it dies to worry as I open it, pleased to see he isn't in trouble and just looking. . .content. He'll know I'm here as soon as I crawl onto the bed, but I move quick and throw a hand over his eyes, grinning at his astonishment.
It's easy to use my greater weight to my advantage, making sure he can't pry away my hand as I trail ghostly kisses along his jaw. He'll know it's me, though. After all, who else is this twisted?
I open my mouth to complain at the sudden hand fastened across my eyes, before I'm disabled by shifted weight and the soft kisses along my jaw.
It could be anyone- in theory- and yet, I know exactly who it is and open my mouth to let out a little gasp of pleasure at the precious kisses pressed along my jaw.
"Jared..." I whisper....and although the kisses do not cease, he allows me to move a hand up to the side of his face to run down it before it drops back to my own face to gently prise away his fingers, looking him in the eyes. I don't say anything for a moment and merely reach up to kiss him softly before I drop my head back down against the bed and whisper.
"Have you heard? Did you see it?"
His eyes fall sad as he looks down at me and nods his head once.
"Jared, I can't believe it's gone-" I open my mouth to continue when I hear the clattering on the windows and i look to see the small stones hitting he glass.
I look back up at Jared who watches the window with intensity. I don't want to move, purely because I like it here...now...with him
I throw a few more stones at the window, but after a few seconds of waiting for someone that isn't there, I turn to leave and head back towards Willow.
Gone. The words hit me a bit harder than all the news articles or the photographs. Coming from Orlando it was as if my home was really. . .well, destroyed. It's easy to shove away the thoughts in favor of narrowing my gaze towards the window, the familiar clatter of stones hitting glass panes something I'm well familiar with. I did the same thing to Orlando's hotel room when I wanted to sneak him out with me late at night to walk him around Royal St.
Royal St. which was now flooded. I shake away the morose tint in my gaze, in favor of smiling down at him, dipping my head to press a kiss to his temple. "Ah, it's no one. Don't worry 'bout it." I didn't have a good enough view to see who it was but whoever had been trying to get Orlando's attention has apparently given up.
"C'mon," I nudge him a bit as I roll off of him to stand. "I've got a surprise for you."
"What is it?"
He gives me a look and i roll my eyes. " I know....I know....If you told me then it wouldn't be a suprise..." I hold out a hand to him and let pull me up, though my lack of a normally high enthusiasm is obvious to us both. I guess New Orleans really hit me hard.
I hug him as soon as im upright and shrug a little.
"Why does all the bad stuff happen to the good people? The people in New Orleans....You.....Why can't you ever catch a break? You're always so busy...You know i miss you..."
Not everyone in New Orleans had been good, I want to point out, but this wasn't a time to make things worse. If anything, I just wanted to see him happy again. He was as much in love with the city as I was. It was almost like losing a piece of our history together.
"Miss you too," I mumble against his forehead, kissing his temple before slipping an arm about his shoulders to guide him to his desktop. "I want you to sign on, 'kay?" It's easy to maneuver him with him being so light, sitting him down in the chair at his computer. "And then I want you to pick a charity."
The puzzled look is only returned with a small smile, finding his cheek so I can rest my own against it, revelling in how much I took comfort in the fact that I could do this, that I was able to be so close to such a beautiful person. "There's a thousand dollars in your name for you to give." It's not the usual sort of gift. It's not cheesecake or video games, CDs or jewelry. It was a special kind of present; one for the heart.
"When it's rebuilt," and it would be. . .I had enough faith in the city to believe it could build itself up again, "we'll go back. I promise."
"Promise..." I repeat under my breath and smile, I would love to go back there, But i would never go back without him...It's...It's the perfect promise...
But suddenly i realise what hes said before:
"I can't take your money." I whisper standing up but he presses me back down into the chair with a quiet authourity and my eyes flicker to the computer screen.
"What charities do you suggest?" I whisper at last and before he can offload the desicion back on to me i add " If you leave it to me it will be 'Save the animals'- I need some sort of direction...." I give him a faint sweet smile " Please?"
It just like the old days, him being every bit as clueless as a five year old with a dart board. So to stay true to the moment, I lift him up a bit, set myself down in the chair with him in my lap, chin comfortably set along his shoulder. "Mm, well, y'don't have to pick just one. Just give to something you know'll make you happy." I just want to see you smile again, like you mean it, I refrain from adding. "That's all."
I scoot us forward a bit and take his hands with my own so I can lay them atop the keyboard. "So much more different than Solitaire, huh?" I offer with a grin, kissing his neck before whispering ever so softly, "And just so you know. . .It's not my money, it's our money." If I was going to be around for good, I'd make sure he would be there with me. There was no sense in cleaning up if I didn't have him to spoil as I did so.
I look over my shoulder at him, having settled comfortably in his lap and stare him in those dark blue pools.
"Y-you mean that?" He smiles and i bite my lip through a big ol' grin and let out a little- admittedly almost girlish squeal as i plant a kiss on his lips.
A kiss that begins small and innocent, and outlet for the joy delivered by the meer thought of getting closer to what I've always wanted, when i had felt such despair for the lack of it before.
Quickly as he opens his mouth a little, i admit defeat and return the favour, my tongue sliding out to touch the tip of his and deepen the kiss to such an extent that I'm getting lost...
And the sudden fear of this means I pull back....He's the only one who makes me feel that way- thats how i know he's different. I fear rejection to such a degree that I cannot push myself over the boundries as i do so easily, so readily with others. Because the " what if I had..." hurt so much less than the "Orlando...no." like last time.
"Thank you." I whisper and nuzzle the side of his cheek before i start to type on the keyboard, singing on with my password which i hope he didn't see- might thing i was soppy having his name as it- Its just the easiest thing for me to remember. I even changed the "A" to and @ sign, just to make it even more difficult to hack into. Not that someone like Jared couldn't hack in any-which-way.
The moment my hand moves to the mouse. His hand follows mine to rest on the back of it and i can't help but smile and close my eyes a moment, turning the hand resting ont he keyboard up into his other hand to clasp it as i start looking through the charities, settled back into him thinking to myself that he's right-As I pull the hand off the keyboard with mine to wrap it around my waist- he's deffinitly right. Being here with him right now, like this....Is a whole lot different from playing the solitaire i had been of the past few days.
As he browses the numerous sites for a donation, I let my eyes settle on his face, watching him with a small smile as I pull him just the slightest bit closer to me, squeezing him in silent appreciation. A gratitude that meant a lot of things really. . .for just being here, for not giving up on me, for being him. I loved every single bit of this kid in my arms, even if I never really believed in the word, I very much believe in Orlando.
He let's me stare, let's my lips brush featherlight along his shoulder as he stops at one of the sites, looks it over and then glances at me for approval. "It's your money," is all I offer with a smile, pressing my mouth to his neck a moment before sitting up straight.
"You can give to more than one, y'know," I add absently, stroking the back of his hand with my palm as he continues to browse through the charity and its foundations. The arm about his waist tightens almost instinctively, just wanting to be that much closer if at all possible. It was just like the old days except back then I didn't place kisses to his throat, or rub along his sides affectionately. No, back then I fed him Twinkies and Mt. Dew, let him try his luck at Minesweeper even though all he did was click random boxes.
Now we were both older, a little bit more mature. And so were our touches, I suppose. But there's still a tentative boundry I'm afraid to cross, too worried I'll give him the wrong impression if I get too needy with my kisses, if my hands linger too long on him. I want him, no doubt about that, but I wanted all of him.
I decide on a few- just to make it fair- donating $200 to each- the last one being "save the animals" which i explain by saying " There was a Dog- up a tree in the floods, I saw it on T.V...They deserve a little saving too right?"
He smiles and I beam back at him leaning back to rest my head on his shoulder, his hand still stroking the back of mine and I think to myself that it's a loving touch. So loving, that it's confusing me all the more. His bodies saying he loves me too, but the question?- I'm not sure it's even dawned on him at all to ask it.Maybe he doesn't want it that way?Maybe he just wants this...But the answer would be yes anyway. It would always be yes.
I lift my head to silently study him and he looks between my eyes until I close the gap between us, my lips brushing over his in a silent plea for him to kiss me.
Kiss me like he did on the balcony that day- just flow with the feeling like i KNOW that he can, and not wait for me, or shy from the idea. I close my eyes, my eyelashes gently tickling his cheek, and wait for any sign, all the time the voice in my head saying " Please don't make this wrong. Please don't make me pull away embaressed."
Perhaps its those little voices that mean I feel the need to reassure him, and myself, and whisper:
"I love you Jared Leto. Only you..."
There's the familiar flutter of anxiety moving in my stomach as he leans just a bit closer, lets his lips hover in a ghostlike manner over my own which causes my breathing to steadily grow uneven, torn between wanting to kiss him and wanting to play it safe. But then, where had that gotten me, really? I've tried my hardest to be cautious with Orlando and all it's ever won me was heartache and misunderstanding. He's not dumb, I know he's not, so he obviously knows how much I care for him, how much I love him. I just wanted to be better than his other lovers. . . I wanted him to know that it wasn't just sex to me or kisses, that it was an intimacy he wasn't going to find with anyone else.
Orlando was special. I just want him to know it as much as I do.
It's a long moment before I cant my head ever so slightly, let my mouth rest over his until a slight pressure is applied, kissing him tentatively, feeling for any slight discomfort or protest. When I hear nothing of the sort, I let my lips move against his own, harder now as my eyelashes flutter then shut, taking his mouth with a careful sort of greed, one that could be stopped if it got too heated.
But the hand in my hair and the body shifting in my lap deminish all doubts, strip them away as his fingers thread their way through my locks, tug at them slightly which earns a soft noise from the back of my throat as I lift my own hands to the back of his head, holding him against my mouth as it plunders his, claims it in a brutal urgency I fear is no longer as controlled as I'd like to think.
I don't know how I'd managed it, but we're out of the chair, some kind of tangle of limbs on the floor with my body over his and my hands roaming and I know I should stop, I know I shouldn't be doing this, that I should wait for some sort of permission, but he's here and tangible in my arms and writhing and pushing up against me in all the delicious ways I've only ever fantasized about.
It's only my fingers find their way to his hips that pull away from his mouth, panting softly and waiting, forcing myself not to touch any further, not to kiss until I've gotten some sort of approval, something to make this okay and not just me taking advantage of this beautiful boy beneath me that I've wanted for far too long.
We stare each other in the eyes a moment and we're both panting at the same time, my hearts beating twice as fast as usual and I feel like such a little kid...
And his eyes. God his EYES- I've never seen such a blue before- dark pools holding in such intensity, such feeling, and i find my hand massaging the back of his head through his hair, my eyes flickering between each of his as i shake my head slowly, and a voice that sounds so like, and yet unlike my own whispers:
"Don't stop Jared. Don't you dare stop." and on the last word I fist his hair and pull his lips down to mine with renewed passion and vigour.
It dawns on my that I've never wanted anything so bad in all my life. When I was a little kid and i wanted a puppy i thought nothing would ever match that...When I was a little older and there was that top i used to walk past in the local shop every damn day (on my way to and from school) and I'd crave it, I thought it was like nothing else- It all seems so foolishly petty now.
This stopped being want the minute he kisses me on the balcony.
It's crossed the border into the realm of need.
I groan into the kiss, and claw my fingers up his back , dragging his shirt up with it. This has to be a dream. Things like this don't happen to me. I feel like I'm waiting on the alarm clock, or worse- the uncomfortable feeling in the sheets that dreams like this would bring about...
But right now, for the first time- I'm bloody glad I came here.
The sounds he's making are devoured hungrily, wanting everything he's got to offer and even the things he's not yet given. My hands are all over him, on his hips, beneath his shirt, raking my nails down his sides which earns a delicious little gasp as he squirms delightfully beneath me. I wanted everything right now. I don't know if it's because of all the tragedy I'd been watching on the news or if I'd finally let my desire for him consume me, but I want so much from him.
I want to hear him moan, cry out beneath me as I remove my mouth from his, attacking his throat with my kisses and bites, hands lifting the shirt above his head to tangle his arms in the fabric, leaving his wrists successfully pinned for now.
When I draw back to look at him, I'm utterly taken by his beauty. Brown eyes wide and mouth full and kiss swollen, red from my lustful advances. His body is slim beneath my larger hands, reminding me how young he is, that this was once the boy I considered to be my brother. It almost makes me stop, almost but I press my lips tenderly to his own with a shakey breath, hands coming to let his hands free of his shirt, setting it aside now.
"You're so beautiful," I whisper through my panting, let my forhead rest against his own.
The touches are gentler this time, slow as I trail them down his sides, savoring the smooth skin beneath the pads of my rougher fingertips, grazing over small bruises he must have gotten from being clumsy or bumping into things as he's so often prone to do. "You are," I insist when he purses his lips, wants to deny what I've said.
"So are you." I whisper and skitter the very tips of my fingers down his face, one of those fingers then gliding across his full lower lip as i pant out the words " You're everything..."
I shake my head in mild disbelief, I'd been half naked infront of him before, but never like this, I was feeling vulnerable, but not afraid, not of him anyway. " You're everything I want.....
I move my hand down to take the hem of his shirt, though it's already ridden some way up. Pulling it slowly up he moves one arm and his head out of it letting it fall around his other wrist as he leans his weight on it-neither of us bothering to push it all the way away.
I look down at his torso and let out a little whimper though a smile. I try to hold back the anticipation, I mean, we've come this far before and it was halted.
I bite my lip and slide my hand down his center feeling the smooth skin beneath my hand before i drop it to my own fly on my jeans, i unbutton them before sliding down the zip, both our eyes flicker down for just a moment before staring straight back into each others.
The hand travels now, around his lower back to press him down , seeking contact between us and i gasp and lean my head all the way back into the floor.
I had bitten my lip to stifle the groan in my throat when he pulled me down, face buried into his neck a moment as I lie atop of him, very much aware of the hardness settled against my thigh. However much he may want the contact, I can't stay like this forever and after rocking my hips into his own, I move to sit over him a bit, dipping my hand into his boxers to wrap around the erection nestled inside, feeling him for the first time in such a sexual manner that I'm almost taken back by my own actions.
My ears perk, listen in case he wants me to stop as I begin to slowly move my fingers up and down the length of him, careful of my fingernails which I know have grown a little longer than usual. He's so fucking beautiful beneath me and it takes all the strength I have not to just grab him by the hips and take him now. I don't want to just use him like that. This wasn't just for me after all. I wanted him to get every bit of pleasure from this as he could.
The heated flesh in my hand is insanely soft, something I didn't quite notice at first until I let my thumb brush over the head of him, smearing the wetness that's already accumulated as I continue to stroke him. "This all right?" I murmur, my mouth finding his own with some difficulty, taking his lips between my teeth to suck and nibble gently on.
"Fuck, Orlando," I mumble throatily beside his ear, "you are so incredibly hot." And he is; he's absoultely breathtaking and for right now, he was entirely mine.
I wanted to growl out that it was more than alright. That this was insanely fucking hot, and completely mind blowing.
But speech seems to have abandoned me,and despite the constant brush of his lips on mine, for now I'm incapable of focussing on that kiss because all my mouth seems to want to do is open and close with little gasps and soft groans, as one hand digs nails into the carpet, and the other on his back.
"Ahh! Jared!" I choke out at last and my eyes catch his again and the hand on his back becomes suddenly ensnared in his hair to pull his lips down to me, to try and turn this amazing pleasure into something good for him too.
I found myself for the first time panicking like a virgin- was my technique okay? What was he thinking? What did he want me to go? Was i doing what i was meant to be doing?
And most importantly of all:Did he want me for me like no one before him had? Was he the one to heal the wounds that HE left on me and in my mind when i lost my virginity?
The answer felt like Yes. It felt like 100%- or at least 99.9% positive. He brought me the first feelings of love, of trust outside my family. I couldnt be wrong about something like this could I? He made me happy in ways that I could only have dreamt about- and did- back at home.
No I couldn't be wrong...This had to mean more than just sex, than just friends or the big brother syndrome- which had been completely blown out of the water of late.No one had looked at me the way he did just then. No one...
There's a driving urge in me to be better. Better than all of his previous lovers, every single person that's been lucky enough to touch Orlando, I wanted to be better than them. I wanted to be the one to polish down the marbled perfection of his features, turn the kisses into something that would wash away everything else he'd ever experienced. I wanted this to be his real first.
Call me crazy, but it was important to me that this meant as much to him as it does me.
When his mouth gets more urgent against my own, I quicken the hand around him, sucking on his lower lip while my other fingers move to sift through his hair, tighten in it just a bit before I slow the kiss and draw back, panting against his mouth. It's almost strange that this should be happening, a surreal sort of experience I can't shake as he twists and moans beneath me, makes me love him even more than I thought possible.
My kisses roam their way down his throat, suckling at the patch of flesh where his neck meets his shoulder, hand dragging itself down from his hair to trail along his sides. I let my fingers roam over his pale flesh, appreciating every small scar or beauty mark, loving the little imperfections that just seemed to make him even more perfect.
So, so fucking beautiful is all I can really think, kissing his lips once more before pulling away so I could watch him, see the ways in which his mouth opens and closes, breath hitching as I rake my nails down along his hipbone.
Everything about Orlando was just too wonderful to be true, but all the better because it was.
" W-wait!" I say and his hand didn't even need my hand on top of it to still it as i do, because the second i breathe it he stops the motion thats driving me to to insanity- the good side of it that is.
I look down at what he's doing a moment and then drop me head back against the floor, panting for breath.
"Y-you're fucking good Jared....so fucking good..." He smiles and leans down to kiss me, and i oblige before whispering breathily...
"I don't want it to end that way...."
He looks at me, searching in my eyes for a sign to back up my words and he finds it in the form of my hand dropping down to his jeans to pull off his belt and slowly unbutton and unzip his flies. Feeling painfully hard myself, but....just needing this so badly. I fold the belt in two as he uses one hand to slowly shove down his jeans and i take an end of the folded belt in each hand to put it around his neck and pull him down.....down into another long kiss before I whisper.
"I want it to end THAT way...." I slide my hand down all the way to his crotch to dip within his boxers and slowly work him the same way he did me for a moment, keeping my eyes on his face the entire time, as he gasps and shudders above me. He's so fucking beautiful....and everything about him is as big as his attitude sometimes.
What a body, what a face....and what a heart...
Unsure? I'd never been so damn sure about anything in all my life.
"You're just the way i thought you would be..." I whisper " But better..." purred into his ear. I kiss along his jaw, listening to his shuddering breath as i lay one arm above my head, the other other continuing its progress in the depths of his boxers for a moment, my thumb slipping over the head with procision.
"Show me that dreams do come true Jared...The way only you really can."
Oh my fuck.
I swear to Christ all coherency is pretty much out the window as soon as his hand's around me, long fingers narrow and deft around my cock which is just so fucking good that I let out a small gasp, biting my lip to stifle any further noises. He didn't have to do this, I wanted to tell him, let him know that this was just for him; all of it. But he's made me lose my train of thought and it isn't until he speaks again that I even attempt to use speech.
"Wha. . .Orli, baby, I. . .mmm," I groan some as I tip my head forward to watch the motion of his hand around me, sucking in a quick breath before trying to make myself find the words, "I don't. . .I don't have a," a what? A brain? I wouldn't be trying to fuck my near-adopted-brother if that were the case. But no, "condom. I don't have one." And for as often as Orlando messes around I'm almost sure he might, but part of me is a bit skeptical.
I wanted this to be good, but I also wanted it to be safe. I always get myself tested every six months to be safe because there are times when, yeah, I'm lost in the heat of things and I do forget. But God forebid I should have caughten anything within the past four months since my last visit and I give it to Orlando. Oh Christ, that was the last thing I wanted.
My hand shakes a little as I try to keep my weight up on my arm, wobbling slightly from the dizziness of arousal that was swimming through my head. I definitely didn't want this to stop, but I really did want to make Orlando's pleasure in all of this come first. He deserves it after all. Deserves everything.
I look between his eyes as long as he can keep them open as my hand continues to stroak his length.
"D-Does it matter? Jared..." I move a hand up into his hair and tug his lips down into a kiss.
"Jared, I trust you..." A second kiss "You're the only one I trust with all of me...Y-You don't need one!"
He looks me in my eyes and I remember what i promised him- that if i was going to fool around, I would be safe...
Who knew that the next one to touch me like this would be him. Not me, that was for sure... Please say that this was one step closer to that dream!
"In the draw...." I whisper and cock my head at him. "I did what you told me to...I....I listened to you-I'm not so bad-I'm not a slut I-"
I don't know why I needed the confirmation from him that he believed me, but I do know that it meant alot.
"If you want them they're in the draw." I whisper and look down at my hand around the whole of his shaft, working up and down through his growls and moans, half hoping he won't move.
"But be quick.."
My kisses dot his forehead for a moment, quiet as his hand keeps moving around me while I do my best not to pry myself away from him. I hated it when he called himself such derogatory names and Christ help the person I ever hear say anything like that to him because they won't have much of a future when I'm done with them. Orlando was such a beautiful person, inside and out, it's a shame he's the only one who can't see it.
Fingers skim through his hair, brushing them back away from his face before I sit up, leaning back to rummage the drawer he'd gestured to. The strip of condoms is found, tearing one off with my teeth before setting it aside and knocking the drawer closed in a haphazard motion with my elbow.
Before he has a chance to continue his work on me, I move his hand away, slip my own back around him, beginning to bring him back to his full with well-practiced motions and twists of my fingers up and down along his length. "You okay with this, baby?" I murmur against his cheek, not letting the kisses stop, though I leave him enough time to respond before I take hold of his mouth with my own again, reigniting the passion that had simmered during our brief moment apart.
I didn't want to move too fast. I wanted this to be special, different. . .Perfect because it would be our first together. It was the only first that mattered in my opinion.
No I'm not okay- This is...amazing. I'm more than okay- I'm FANTASTIC!
A splurge of thoughts-and yet all i can do as my breath hitches and stutters- and my sighs are staggered- and my body shivers and shakes in responce to what he's doing- is nod my head, eyes closed tight to grasp back a little of my own self control.
His lips are a constant. Be they on my lips or neck or cheek or chest- it doesnt matter, I can feel their soft caresses again and again, and everytime his lips catch mine- theres a completeness within me- and i don't want him to pull away because it feels so right.
I should have him medically attatched to my lips in the name of science.
Best anti-depressant anyone could ever take.
I can already tell from the somewhat coarse carpet- that they'll be burns to prove these actions later on, but part of me thinks its a good thing. I could get him to kiss them better- I'd return the favour of course.
It's one of those moments that you know can lead on to only good things, and theres a whole half of you that can't wait and wants to keep moving- but an equal part of you just wants to feel the ecstacy of anticipation- and make it last forever.
However, as i open my eyes and see him leant over me as he has been, i lift a hand, shaking as it is from the frequent ripples of pleasure, and....just run my fingers from the top of his head down through his hair, to the nape of his neck. In return a caressing hand moves now dampened curl off my sweating brow and he looks me in the eyes. I hit a moment-
A moment of relection, A moment of wishful thinking and peaceful recollection. 13 was always going to be too young- too illegal- 13 year olds were meant to be virgins, and i had been...But why was 13 so different to 14- when the big shake up actually happened. And why was 14 so different to now?
I should have given myself to him back then- 2 years previous- when I'd thought about it but shyed from all sorts of thoughts like that- they seemed unclean and unnatural- but Sex- Sex and Love- they are the most natural things of all right?
2 years ago he wouldn't have even considered this as a vague possibility. One year ago he would have been shocked and appauled at me for what I had done. It had take months for me to tell him even half of what was wrong, i had been so afraid of a hindered opinion. But had that year previous not happened, would I be here at all?- would we ever have seen each other face to face again?
Would he still think of me as hes little brother?
In a lot of ways- I regret that it wasn't him. How i'd tried to close my eyes and pretend that it could have been- but it was too rough- too distant to what i had always thought doing it with Jared would be like...It hadn't worked out that way at all. Jared would never have done what HE did- act so uncaring, so cold.
The quiet understanding that passes between our looks is that....perhaps neither one of us is proud of ourseleves up and to this point in our lives, perhaps we both wish things from the other- some that might happen- some that probably never will. Maybe we even both realised for a whole minute that despite everything, if he had been my first back then- We would not be here now.We would not know each other now.
The courts had almost wanted it. Something to condemn Jared with- something with substance to add to his crimes ( like intercourse with a minor). If what we wished had happened- really had happened that way. Winston would never have known Jared Leto. And I would have lost him for good.
Perhaps him wishing I was still little virgin Orlando, and me wishing he'd been my first- were the wrong wishes to make then.
But this wasn't.And wishing that he'd make this mean something afterwards wasn't.
I slide my arm around his neck and pull his forehead down to my shoulder- kissing the side of his face, by his ear, though even my lips are trembling as his hand starts up its motion again.
"Jared...God......Please...." A whisper and a sharp intake of breath before I bite down hard on my lip, praying he heard me, because i feel like if i stop biting down so hard- something else is gonna give.
The realization of what was occuring didn't quite hit me until this point, where the thought of what was about to happen final hit home and made me realize that everything I really ever wanted in life was tucked beneath me in a bundle of nerves that were just as anxious as my own.
This wasn't the little boy from two years ago who couldn't figure out how to play Minesweeper or who would tag along with me in the grimey streets of New Orleans. He wasn't something to be cradled or cooed over. This boy, this young man was just as capable as I had been at his age. . .Which was saying a lot.
These facts didn't deminish my care with him though, the tender caresses down his shoulders and sides. The touch of his skin under my fingertips seemed familiar in a way it shouldn't, new to me but perfect in ways that made it seem like we've already done this, if not a thousand times in our minds.
It shouldn't make me nervous, shouldn't cause my stomach to tighten in apprehension as I pull back one of my hands, use it to tear the condom open with my teeth, roll the rubber down the length of me in a practiced motion that seemed too drawn out, too long as it kept my hand off of him. However many times I'd done this, it doesn't change the fact that I'd never done it with him. Part of me was horribly frightened that after this was done and over we'd be different; different in ways we couldn't help yet knowing there was something missing to our relationship.
Or maybe I was just being paranoid and things will be better than ever. I don't know and that scares me. I've never been so uncertain of anything as I am now, but it doesn't stop me from pressing myself to him, kissing his face between panted breaths. "Ready, baby?" I wait for the nod, the words. . .anything and when no word for me to stop comes, I push myself to his entrance, groan as I feel myself slip into him and bury myself halfway in.
The flurry of sparkles that meet my eyes makes me groan, refraining from shutting my eyes so I won't miss a single reaction, wanting to see this so badly I'd almost forgotten to ask whether he was all right or not. I remedy this soon enough, bend close to him to run my lips over his own, gasping some at the tightness that surrounded me, of being inside him.
"S'okay?" It seemed so silly a question, but it was pertinent if I was going to continue. If this felt awkward or wrong, if this was something he didn't want to continue, I wouldn't hesistant to stop. I'd lament over the loss, but I definitely wouldn't put my needs above his own. I never could.
My spine arches up as he pushes into me and my legs , straighten, toes curling with the pleasure shooting right to the tips of them.
I want to tell him that YES it's still okay- Yes, yes, yes it's more than just OKAY. The word doesn't even FIGURE.....But nor do mine....and all i can manage is a little gasp of his name.
He frowns a little- i notice- as i open my eyes to his, probably unsure if thats a good or a bad thing. Ans so i lift one hand to ball his hair into my fist and tug him down far enough to rasp into his ear.
"I love you...Don't stop..." I let him over his face back a little and my eyes flicker between his. The most beautiful shade of blue. The nickname "Blue eyes" that Jeremy has coined for Lij, doesn't even seem to figure...Jareds eyes are almost clear I swear... So beautiful.
He makes the hollow feeling in my heart feel filled,completed, i want to ask him to be mine, but i can't, I can't do it- Rejection would be....the worst. It's horrible to have all your dreams come true one minute and have the biggest hope of all give way to the biggest fear.
But it would be worse to have that hope dashed....At least now I could always dream that it might. I'd rather not have my worst fears confirmed.
Feeling my eyes welling up I close my eyes hoping he doesn't see it and misplace it for unhappiness (because it's most definitly not!) Closing my eyes, I pull him down to kiss his lips softly, anticipating his next move, the single tear that escapes through closed lids and locked lashes weaves its way down my face towards my hair..
A good portion of me wishes this were happening elsewhere, on the bed maybe, something nicer, more dignified than his bedroom floor. He deserved silk sheets and goose-feathered pillows beneath him; deserved the best. Though I suppose despite all this, it never really happened for him. After all, if he got the best, he certainly wouldn't be with me, that's for sure.
There's a shakey arm that's keeping me from collapsing on top of him, steadying me to the best of its ability as I lean over the slender body beneath mine, moving just a bit inside of him until I can feel my thighs brush against the back of his; pulled close enough that I can feel every bit of warmth that's radiating through his compacted form. Even the damp feeling that puddles in the hollow spot where my thumb and forefinger meet. The wetness is smoothed away with dotted kisses along his cheek, hating that just maybe he was hurting, even if I knew it was unavoidable.
The pads of my thumbs stroke his face, a coaxing, gentle caress as I find his lips with my own briefly, words staggering which was such a contrast to the normal fluidity of them. "Baby, please," I whisper, my voice just shy above a whisper, "open your eyes." I wanted to see the big brown pools of his soul, wanted to confirm that this was just as right for him as it was for me.
There was something so unusual about the word "please" for me. An almost desperate sort of noise with its wanton whine that's near high in my throat.
The need to move drives me insane as I shift up a little, withdrawing my hand from his face so I use it to help support my weight with its partner, pulling out just a bit before rocking myself back in with a strained sort of care. My body was being tortured by the impossible tightness of him, having to force myself not to just take him as hard as I could, until we were both screaming for each other in a carnal urge to have the other in every way possible. But I suck it, smile some as I run my kisses over his brow which tasted of the sweet saline that had begun to bead there. "God, Orli," I groan some, tilting my head down a bit. "Orlando. . .I love you. Love you so fucking much."
Fairy tales aren't supposed to exist at such tender ages. But then, we both know we've always been more mature than the years we've lived. . .Old souls, him and I.
Finally I manage to open my eyes to look at him, my own gaze swimming about in the open pools of blue before i manage to hook a hand behind his neck and pull him down into a needly kiss, trying to relax the tenseness in my body.
I can see he's holding back and so my hand seeks out to gently skitter down the side of his face, my breath shakey, stuttering, but thankfully, finally under my control.
"Don't hold back for me...from me...don't hold back..." He looks at me thoughtfully a moment and i frown a little and shake my head before smiling a little.
It ends ubrupty with sudden pleasure bolts running through me as he rocks himself in a little more, his mouth catches the corner of mine as i gasp out, and i turn my face to press my lips to his own fully this time- soft and pliable lips pressed to one another and i whisper "I trust you..." just loud enough for his ears.