(no subject)
Argh, I wanted to make more icons this weekend but... I really ought to attempt my homework.
There's four LOST ones and a John/George one. [I hate making them in odd numbers.]
Um... Oh, and for the Amy 'cause she's the only one who reads/understands these infamous mansmut tales of our two made up characters:
"College?"
"Well, yeah."
"But school just ended!"
"Mother's already made plans to send me away."
I trembled in Gene's arms as he broke the news to me that night. College meant we'd be years away from each other. School had just ended a month ago and I definately had no plans. I tried not to cry, but as usual, it was no use.
"Mick..." It's just hard to remember everything else that goes on in life when I'm with Gene. I hadn't given any thought to my future- as far as I was concerned, Gene was my future. My life, my everything. I can't describe how he made me feel, but I knew I didn't want anything or anyone else. I figured at the end of high school, things would change for the better. But I was slightly off.
"It'll just be two years..." He might as well have said a million. I couldn't think of anything to say, but I couldn't be completely crushed in Gene's presence either. He pet my hair and squeezed me tight against his chest, which only squeezed more tears out of me. I wouldn't have this warmth while he was gone. I wouldn't have my legs tangled with his under the sheets while he was gone like they were now. I wouldn't have his scent, or his skin or his touch or his breath-
"And think of how great it'll be to see each other after all that time..." He's so smart, of course he could think of positive things and of course he'd go away to college.
He knew it was best just to let me cry. I sobbed into his shirt and clawed as each wave of teenage woe surged through me. Two years- it had been about two years since we'd begun and it seemed like forever. I couldn't remember what things were like before Gene. I loved those teenage years, but I hated how helpless we were, and how even we couldn't control our fate.
"When?" I asked, pulling away and looking into his eyes.
"Two weeks." He kissed my eyes as more tears fell. I shifted so that I was flat on top of him, pushing his hair out of his face and surrounded his delicate lips with my large, tear-painted ones. I didn't know what else to do; every time we were troubled we could find solitude in each other. Physically, mentally- literally. Before my fingers could creep under his shirt, he firmly flipped us over so that he was straddling me, his hand on my chest. I whimpered automatically and grasped his hand. He simply gazed down at me, his head slightly tilted and his smooth skin illuminated by the bright moon outside the window, his grey eyes nearly blinding me with the reflected light. And he told me- just with his eyes- that everything would be OK, and that I was worrying for nothing. It was like he could see through me. In his faint smirk I found reassurance, and as these realisations hit me, my tears stopped. He leaned forward and kissed them away, caressing my face with his lips and his breath and his skin. His lips found my neck and distracted me while he lifted my shirt up beneath us. He pulled away to get rid of it, and then he worked on removing his own. I ran my hands up his slender, smooth torso and just by doing so, my breathing and heartbeat quickened. I started to tear up again as I took in his beauty- I wouldn't have this while he was gone. He seemed to sense what I was thinking (he always does) and he cupped my face in his hands to lean down and kiss me again- hard- as if trying to suck all the doubt out of me. His body was pressed down hard against mine and I could feel his growing erection with my own. I whimpered as he pulled away, breathing heavily and running his hands over my chest. I closed my eyes and indulged; my arms curled away from his touch as he moved down to take off my pants. With his arms still at my sides, he leaned down and kissed all over my chest, down my stomach and between my thighs. I whimpered as he looked back up at me. My legs twitched with anticipation as he kissed me again- one of his hands reaching over the bed to find the lube and his other petting me down below.
"I need you," I said, panting heavily and starting to sweat. I needed him then, and I needed him while he would be away. When his eyes met mine again, he quickly moved to get rid of his own pants. He quickly prepared us, lifted my legs up out of the way, and dove inside. And I remember being particularly loud that night, relishing in everything. Relishing in having his head between my knees with my feet interlocked behind his neck. Relishing in his hands firmly on my thighs. In his kisses which tried but failed in silencing me. His ever-trembling bottom lip, jaw dropped wide open. His sounds. His eyes debating whether or not to stay open and observe me as I was watching him, or to close and indulge. The increasing speed. Skin against skin, against skin again. His eyebrows leaping up before pushing themselves together, sweat rolling down them. His head thrown back, face presenting nothing but sheer ecstasy. The silence as we both went deathly still. His sounds. His face, sweat- his seed filling me. And I was content.
But instead of just pulling out and collapsing, he stayed inside and clutched my legs tight; his head dropped and I felt a tear of his spill onto my chest. He closed his eyes and trembled- it was his turn to cry; he began to sob silently. I could feel the pain surging from his chest and through his veins, causing his whole body and mine to quake. I hadn't realised that tears flowed freely down my cheeks upon seeing him break down as I pushed him out of me and caught him as he fell in my arms. I still lay flat on the bed, and our legs were intertwined below as he buried his head in my neck and continued to sob uncontrollably. I embraced him tight, arms almost wrapped twice around his slender back.
"Who am I kidding- what am I gonna do without you?" I answered by swallowing a large sob and tangling my fingers in his hair and kissing gently. Neither of us were truly dominant or submissive, or strong or weak, or pessimistic or optimistic- together we were one, and together we wept for our uncertain fate.
After an amount of time had passed, he propped himself up and stroked my face. "I'll visit as much as I can. I won't find anyone else for me," sniffliing, he continued on, "And when I'm done... everything'll be perfect. No more secrecy." His eyes were stern and serious.
And I stopped crying for the rest of the night; I believed him. And when our last night together came, it was happy and he reassured me again and I believed him. As I watched him scurry back home into the night through my window, I believed him. When he kissed my cheek in front of everyone else saying goodbye, I believed him.
And I still believe him, alone in my room. Even years after he's finished college.
Gene climbed through the window with more caution than usual. He drifted over to Mick quietly, not yet wanting to wake him and for the first time, unsure of what to do. He enjoyed these few moments simply watching his beautiful lover sleep- watching, and being reminded that Mick was the world to him; Mick was his world- before he inevitably had to bring whatever the rest of his existence was into this sanctuary.
Before he could do anything, Mick's eyes popped open. "Hiya!" Mick's eyes were light and radiant, his smile wide and innocent. Gene almost broke down right then. It was too much- suddenly not being able to help wanting to feel happy- but the difference in moods was far too great for him to handle.
Mick sat up and made room for Gene on his bed. Gene lightly set himself near the edge, near the footboard where he had been standing. Mick scooted close and gazed adoringly at Gene, not yet aware of the aura of discontent surrounding- entrapping- and resonating from him. Gene avoided eye contact.
"So..." Mick started, deciding to lean forward and wrap himself around Gene for a hug; he found that Gene was unusually limp in his arms. He pulled away and his expression soon mirrored Gene's- fallen, troubled. "Hey..." Mick frowned and scanned Gene's face slowly and desperately. Something wasn't right, but he couldn't tell what. "You look different- wh-"
"I'm fine," Gene said, looking away to escape Mick's wide, concerned gaze. There was something wrong- but he was hesitant to bring it here to Mick- not to the one place he could escape it. Not finding anything to pretend to concentrate on, Gene slowly lifted his eyes and managed to give a smile.
Mick blinked repeatedly under his furrowed eyebrows. He concentrated on Gene's face and Gene stared back nervously- pleadingly, begging Mick with his mind to figure it out. "You..." Mick started, "You aren't wearing your eyeliner." Gene's eyes looked slightly red and gloomy; his usual light grey eyes were dull and murky.
"Mum took it," Gene uttered, looking down and wringing his hands. Now that Mick had asked, he wasn't sure if he had it in him to let everything out. "She..." Gene's petite frame began to tremble.
Mick leaned forward, eyes wide and jaw dropped slightly, trying to follow Gene's glance as it shifted when his thoughts did and as he figured out what next he would say.
"She... yelled at me-" Gene stuttered, not even knowing where to start to recount the evening's events. "She asked me why... I wore her makeup, and why wasn't I dressed like other normal boys, and why I didn't look as respectable as she had raised me..." Gene gulped, choking to keep back tears. "And why I didn't always go to church with her..." His glance was fixed somewhere past Mick as the blow of his thoughts and words hurt just as much when they escaped his lips as it did when they came from his mother's hours earlier. "And I just... I just wish I could tell her why, I wish there was a 'why'" Gene paused as tears spilled down his face as freely as his words were being spoken.
Mick held back the urge to wipe his tears away and waited for Gene to begin again, simply listening. "I don't mean to keep things from her, I dunno when it started..." Gene's voice grew quieter, and Mick leaned in closer to hear. "I wish I was still good enough for her." Gene's sobs would cut him off but he refrained from wiping his cheeks dry. "I used to be, but now I don't even try... It's just not me anymore, and it hurts to fake things for her and it hurts not to- ah, God-" Gene finally leaned forward and collapsed into Mick's shoulder, sobbing hard. Mick did his best to keep his own tears from forming- and it worked. He wrapped his arms around Gene, unable to come up with anything to say but letting Gene weep all he wanted.
"I wish I could tell her... about us." Gene pulled away momentarily and stuttered on, "I... I wish... I could make her happy- that I was good eno-" Realising he was repeating himself, he stopped and continued sobbing.
Mick sighed and planted his hand behind Gene's neck, stroking his hair. He couldn't really relate, seeing as how he and his parents never really had any sort of relationship. It pained him deeply to see Gene so torn. Mick hesitantly leaned closer to Gene's face and modestly, gingerly slipped his tongue out between his lips and began to lick the tears from Gene's face. Gene continued sniffling for a few moments after Mick started, but soon the tears stopped. His tongue strokes were small and quick, like a cat lapping them up with his head tilted back. Gene sighed, closed his eyes and indulged- he was instantly calmed. Mick pulled away sheepishly and wiped his saliva away with his thumbs. The room fell silent.
"It's Ok..." he said simply. He looked over Gene's face as if he was going to say more- but instead he leaned over the side of his bed and produced something from under the mattress. "This is all you need..." It was one of his sister's old black eyeliner pencils- still sharp. Mick uncapped it carefully and cupped his hands around Gene's face. His hand rested under Gene's left eye which he began working on first, the pencil ready between his fingers. Slowly, carefully- Mick bit his lip and concentrated as the tip met Gene's skin. Being the only person on earth completely aware of how clumsy and messy Mick could be, Mick very cautiously began to trace Gene's bottom lashline. Gene sat perfectly still, his mind able to rest, but he didn't quite know how to intepret Mick's action. Yet. Mick gulped slightly as he rubbed a smudge off near the end of his line, pulling his head back to examine his work. He did the other eye much the same way, only even slower as he struggled with his right hand on the right side of Gene's face. Mick let out a deep exhale as he pulled his hands away when he was finally done.
Gene blinked as the substance slightly irritated his already-irritated eyes and observed as Mick reached under the mattress once more. This time, deep crimson lipstick. Mick removed the cap and twisted the bottom as he raised it to Gene's lips before he got a different idea. He decided to wipe it across his own lower lip, slightly sloppily, and then smacked his lips to get some on the top. Mick's hands encompassed Gene's face as he pulled in and planted a large, passion-filled kiss to transfer the crimson.
Mick pulled away and smiled. "There... all normal." Gene's bottom lip trembled when Mick moved and turned his head so that they could see their reflections in the mirror across from the bed. His grin faded when he saw that Gene was getting teary-eyed again. He faced him again and frowned. "What now?" Before Gene could smile and thank him, Mick's idle hands slid down over his chest and he spoke again. "Where are your rings? She didn't see those, did she??"
Gene shook his head and retrieved his nipple rings from his pocket and placed them in Mick's hand. Mick slowly lifted Gene's shirt up over his head and it fell soundlessly to the ground. Pushing firmly on his chest for him to lean back on his elbows, Mick scooted even closer to Gene in the space between his now spread and propped up legs. Gently- oh-so-gently- Mick bit his lip as he replaced the rings into Gene's sensitive flesh. They both let out sighs when he had finished.
Gene couldn't even think of what he could possibly say- the simplicity of Mick's actions was enough to rid him of all the trouble he had entered the room with. Before he could come up with any sort of utterance, Mick started again looking straight and deeply into his eyes, "There is nothing wrong with being beautiful." Mick smiled as he kissed over Gene's face, cupped in his hand. "And just that is all you are..." Finally, Mick took Gene's mouth in his and kissed deeply, each swipe of his velvety tongue convincing Gene.
Gene gave up on trying to find words that night as he pulled away to breathe. He felt Mick's mouth caressing its way down his body and his eyes fluttered shut as he lowered himself flat on his back on the bed, breathing deeply.
"Everything about you..." Mick's eyes checked on Gene's as his lips lingered on his chin. While Gene's eyes were shut, Mick pulled away to quickly discard his shirt before laying himself flat on top of Gene; with their warm flesh now in contact, they were just about as close as they could possibly be. "This is beautiful..." He kissed over Gene's neck. "And this..." Up closer to his ear, on his jaw; his voice was muffled. "This is..." He slid down so he could plant kisses over Gene's chest. All of Gene's skin was tingling, not able to anticipate where Mick's warm breath and lips would land next. "And this..." He flicked his tongue at the rings he had replaced- Gene's head fell back further into the mattress at the sensation. "This..." Mick's mouth moved to Gene's stomach now, his hands idly fingering the waistline of Gene's pants. He stopped talking as his lips met Gene's hips. Gene didn't realise until Mick continued to tug on his pants that the whole ordeal was very arousing. He spread his legs as he opened his eyes to check on Mick and found his large, brown eyes staring at him- not really asking for permission to go further, but letting him know...
Their eyes locked for a few more seconds before Mick kissed the flesh right above the button of the jeans- which was soon undone. Mick meticulously undid Gene's zipper and soon Gene lay before him completely unclothed. Gene's breathing was still deep, but now shakey- anxious. He kept his eyes on Mick as Mick's head lowered again. "And this, is especially..." Mick's tongue made a large stroke from Gene's base to his tip.
"Ohhh..." It satisfied Mick to hear Gene's voice again after the moments of his silence- especially since it was a moan. Mick sat up slowly again, observing as Gene's eyes fluttered shut and his legs twitched. Mick swiftly removed all of the rest of his clothing and he moved to straddle Gene's thighs, rubbing his hands all over Gene's torso. Mick finally came up with his next move; he leaned forward and reached for the drawer of his nightstand. Gene's eyes opened as he watched Mick fumble with the Vaseline, lubing up his fingers- but instead of Gene having to lift his legs up, Mick shifted his weight to his unlubed hand planted firmly on the bed. Hovering over Gene, he then commenced to lubricate his own entrance, wincing and writhing as he stretched himself. Gene panted, his erection throbbing- eyes locked on Mick's face. After Mick had taken care of himself, he proceeded to rub a generous amount of the Vaseline onto Gene's ready dick. Mick then leaned forward to plant his hands on the bed on either side of Gene's head, grinning seductively before throwing his head back and closing his eyes to concentrate on relaxing and aligning himself upon Gene's cock.
"Breathe..." Gene advised as his tip entered Mick between his wide-spread thighs; he helped ease himself into Mick by lifting his hips. Mick moaned and gasped repeatedly as he took in all of Gene's length. They both let out sighs when Mick was able to sit all the way down.
"Uh... Oh, oh..." Gene relished in Mick's panting aloud that came from just sitting- being full of Gene; Gene writhed as he could not arch his back or buck into Mick's tightness- they both felt as though they would come instantly.
Sweat already forming on his brow, Mick willed himself to start pushing himself up with his hands to thrust. "Uhhh...." Gene moaned and squeezed his eyes shut, his chin turning upwards toward the ceiling as he dug his nails into Mick's gyrating thighs.
"Uh, uh... Ah... ! Oh, God, ohh..." Gene willed himself to open his eyes again to watch Mick's face as he rode his cock. He was almost smiling as he moved his hand to Gene's chest, slick with sweat.
"Mmm... uh- ohh..." Gene finally managed to shift and arch his back beneath Mick, who began to thrust a bit faster, pressing down hard on Gene's chest which still tried to rise beneath him.
The mattress's grunting combined with the light tapping of the headboard against the wall only encouraged their cries to grow louder, and for everything else to grow more intense.
Gene completely forgot everything that had to do with anything other than what he was doing with Mick now- all he knew was that this was all he ever needed, and his jaw dropped open as he indulged and let Mick pound a grunt out of him with every thrust, "Uh, uh, ah! God..."
"Ah, Geeene..." Mick leaned forward again to place his hands on Gene's shoulders, thrusting downward harder. Gene scratched and dug his nails into Mick's now violently moving ass, wanting to continue being on the brink of orgasm, yet needing release; before he thought he couldn't take it any longer, Gene grew rigid. Mick realised and made quicker, harder thrusts until Gene let out a loud yell. Mick worked to bring himself to climax and soon he collapsed; sweat and semen caused their flesh to stick together.
"Oh, I love you," Gene finally managed to say, bringing Mick's face to his with his hands and kissing him appreciatively. "I love you, I love you..." All Mick could do was drop his head into the sheets next to Gene's head, letting exhaustion take him over.
Gene remained awake under Mick, letting him have the sleep he deserved. Mick's simple reactions proved that all of his troubles were nothing serious or worth while. He almost felt guilty and weak for relying and depending so heavily on Mick; everything Mick did influenced his whole existance- he might have been becoming a bit obsessed. Did he give as much to Mick as he received from him? Gene suddenly felt that Mick would never be able to perceive how much Gene needed him- and he felt even worst at the prospect of not being able to properly convey all the love and appreciation he felt. But he did love him- and that had to count for something.
Whoo, those were long.
Oh. Yes, that's me in the icon for this entry- it's a result of ADD. I was in the middle of working on LOST ones when all of a sudden, it hit me: "other people have icons of themselves, why not me?" So yeah. *dork*
Sigh. I guess I'm gonna go update my other LJ, and then attempt my damn Algebra II homework. And study for the World History test on Tuesday.
I really want to write a slash for A Separate Peace. Why isn't there more/any out there already!? But alas, I don't have a copy of the book anymore.
There's four LOST ones and a John/George one. [I hate making them in odd numbers.]
Um... Oh, and for the Amy 'cause she's the only one who reads/understands these infamous mansmut tales of our two made up characters:
"College?"
"Well, yeah."
"But school just ended!"
"Mother's already made plans to send me away."
I trembled in Gene's arms as he broke the news to me that night. College meant we'd be years away from each other. School had just ended a month ago and I definately had no plans. I tried not to cry, but as usual, it was no use.
"Mick..." It's just hard to remember everything else that goes on in life when I'm with Gene. I hadn't given any thought to my future- as far as I was concerned, Gene was my future. My life, my everything. I can't describe how he made me feel, but I knew I didn't want anything or anyone else. I figured at the end of high school, things would change for the better. But I was slightly off.
"It'll just be two years..." He might as well have said a million. I couldn't think of anything to say, but I couldn't be completely crushed in Gene's presence either. He pet my hair and squeezed me tight against his chest, which only squeezed more tears out of me. I wouldn't have this warmth while he was gone. I wouldn't have my legs tangled with his under the sheets while he was gone like they were now. I wouldn't have his scent, or his skin or his touch or his breath-
"And think of how great it'll be to see each other after all that time..." He's so smart, of course he could think of positive things and of course he'd go away to college.
He knew it was best just to let me cry. I sobbed into his shirt and clawed as each wave of teenage woe surged through me. Two years- it had been about two years since we'd begun and it seemed like forever. I couldn't remember what things were like before Gene. I loved those teenage years, but I hated how helpless we were, and how even we couldn't control our fate.
"When?" I asked, pulling away and looking into his eyes.
"Two weeks." He kissed my eyes as more tears fell. I shifted so that I was flat on top of him, pushing his hair out of his face and surrounded his delicate lips with my large, tear-painted ones. I didn't know what else to do; every time we were troubled we could find solitude in each other. Physically, mentally- literally. Before my fingers could creep under his shirt, he firmly flipped us over so that he was straddling me, his hand on my chest. I whimpered automatically and grasped his hand. He simply gazed down at me, his head slightly tilted and his smooth skin illuminated by the bright moon outside the window, his grey eyes nearly blinding me with the reflected light. And he told me- just with his eyes- that everything would be OK, and that I was worrying for nothing. It was like he could see through me. In his faint smirk I found reassurance, and as these realisations hit me, my tears stopped. He leaned forward and kissed them away, caressing my face with his lips and his breath and his skin. His lips found my neck and distracted me while he lifted my shirt up beneath us. He pulled away to get rid of it, and then he worked on removing his own. I ran my hands up his slender, smooth torso and just by doing so, my breathing and heartbeat quickened. I started to tear up again as I took in his beauty- I wouldn't have this while he was gone. He seemed to sense what I was thinking (he always does) and he cupped my face in his hands to lean down and kiss me again- hard- as if trying to suck all the doubt out of me. His body was pressed down hard against mine and I could feel his growing erection with my own. I whimpered as he pulled away, breathing heavily and running his hands over my chest. I closed my eyes and indulged; my arms curled away from his touch as he moved down to take off my pants. With his arms still at my sides, he leaned down and kissed all over my chest, down my stomach and between my thighs. I whimpered as he looked back up at me. My legs twitched with anticipation as he kissed me again- one of his hands reaching over the bed to find the lube and his other petting me down below.
"I need you," I said, panting heavily and starting to sweat. I needed him then, and I needed him while he would be away. When his eyes met mine again, he quickly moved to get rid of his own pants. He quickly prepared us, lifted my legs up out of the way, and dove inside. And I remember being particularly loud that night, relishing in everything. Relishing in having his head between my knees with my feet interlocked behind his neck. Relishing in his hands firmly on my thighs. In his kisses which tried but failed in silencing me. His ever-trembling bottom lip, jaw dropped wide open. His sounds. His eyes debating whether or not to stay open and observe me as I was watching him, or to close and indulge. The increasing speed. Skin against skin, against skin again. His eyebrows leaping up before pushing themselves together, sweat rolling down them. His head thrown back, face presenting nothing but sheer ecstasy. The silence as we both went deathly still. His sounds. His face, sweat- his seed filling me. And I was content.
But instead of just pulling out and collapsing, he stayed inside and clutched my legs tight; his head dropped and I felt a tear of his spill onto my chest. He closed his eyes and trembled- it was his turn to cry; he began to sob silently. I could feel the pain surging from his chest and through his veins, causing his whole body and mine to quake. I hadn't realised that tears flowed freely down my cheeks upon seeing him break down as I pushed him out of me and caught him as he fell in my arms. I still lay flat on the bed, and our legs were intertwined below as he buried his head in my neck and continued to sob uncontrollably. I embraced him tight, arms almost wrapped twice around his slender back.
"Who am I kidding- what am I gonna do without you?" I answered by swallowing a large sob and tangling my fingers in his hair and kissing gently. Neither of us were truly dominant or submissive, or strong or weak, or pessimistic or optimistic- together we were one, and together we wept for our uncertain fate.
After an amount of time had passed, he propped himself up and stroked my face. "I'll visit as much as I can. I won't find anyone else for me," sniffliing, he continued on, "And when I'm done... everything'll be perfect. No more secrecy." His eyes were stern and serious.
And I stopped crying for the rest of the night; I believed him. And when our last night together came, it was happy and he reassured me again and I believed him. As I watched him scurry back home into the night through my window, I believed him. When he kissed my cheek in front of everyone else saying goodbye, I believed him.
And I still believe him, alone in my room. Even years after he's finished college.
Gene climbed through the window with more caution than usual. He drifted over to Mick quietly, not yet wanting to wake him and for the first time, unsure of what to do. He enjoyed these few moments simply watching his beautiful lover sleep- watching, and being reminded that Mick was the world to him; Mick was his world- before he inevitably had to bring whatever the rest of his existence was into this sanctuary.
Before he could do anything, Mick's eyes popped open. "Hiya!" Mick's eyes were light and radiant, his smile wide and innocent. Gene almost broke down right then. It was too much- suddenly not being able to help wanting to feel happy- but the difference in moods was far too great for him to handle.
Mick sat up and made room for Gene on his bed. Gene lightly set himself near the edge, near the footboard where he had been standing. Mick scooted close and gazed adoringly at Gene, not yet aware of the aura of discontent surrounding- entrapping- and resonating from him. Gene avoided eye contact.
"So..." Mick started, deciding to lean forward and wrap himself around Gene for a hug; he found that Gene was unusually limp in his arms. He pulled away and his expression soon mirrored Gene's- fallen, troubled. "Hey..." Mick frowned and scanned Gene's face slowly and desperately. Something wasn't right, but he couldn't tell what. "You look different- wh-"
"I'm fine," Gene said, looking away to escape Mick's wide, concerned gaze. There was something wrong- but he was hesitant to bring it here to Mick- not to the one place he could escape it. Not finding anything to pretend to concentrate on, Gene slowly lifted his eyes and managed to give a smile.
Mick blinked repeatedly under his furrowed eyebrows. He concentrated on Gene's face and Gene stared back nervously- pleadingly, begging Mick with his mind to figure it out. "You..." Mick started, "You aren't wearing your eyeliner." Gene's eyes looked slightly red and gloomy; his usual light grey eyes were dull and murky.
"Mum took it," Gene uttered, looking down and wringing his hands. Now that Mick had asked, he wasn't sure if he had it in him to let everything out. "She..." Gene's petite frame began to tremble.
Mick leaned forward, eyes wide and jaw dropped slightly, trying to follow Gene's glance as it shifted when his thoughts did and as he figured out what next he would say.
"She... yelled at me-" Gene stuttered, not even knowing where to start to recount the evening's events. "She asked me why... I wore her makeup, and why wasn't I dressed like other normal boys, and why I didn't look as respectable as she had raised me..." Gene gulped, choking to keep back tears. "And why I didn't always go to church with her..." His glance was fixed somewhere past Mick as the blow of his thoughts and words hurt just as much when they escaped his lips as it did when they came from his mother's hours earlier. "And I just... I just wish I could tell her why, I wish there was a 'why'" Gene paused as tears spilled down his face as freely as his words were being spoken.
Mick held back the urge to wipe his tears away and waited for Gene to begin again, simply listening. "I don't mean to keep things from her, I dunno when it started..." Gene's voice grew quieter, and Mick leaned in closer to hear. "I wish I was still good enough for her." Gene's sobs would cut him off but he refrained from wiping his cheeks dry. "I used to be, but now I don't even try... It's just not me anymore, and it hurts to fake things for her and it hurts not to- ah, God-" Gene finally leaned forward and collapsed into Mick's shoulder, sobbing hard. Mick did his best to keep his own tears from forming- and it worked. He wrapped his arms around Gene, unable to come up with anything to say but letting Gene weep all he wanted.
"I wish I could tell her... about us." Gene pulled away momentarily and stuttered on, "I... I wish... I could make her happy- that I was good eno-" Realising he was repeating himself, he stopped and continued sobbing.
Mick sighed and planted his hand behind Gene's neck, stroking his hair. He couldn't really relate, seeing as how he and his parents never really had any sort of relationship. It pained him deeply to see Gene so torn. Mick hesitantly leaned closer to Gene's face and modestly, gingerly slipped his tongue out between his lips and began to lick the tears from Gene's face. Gene continued sniffling for a few moments after Mick started, but soon the tears stopped. His tongue strokes were small and quick, like a cat lapping them up with his head tilted back. Gene sighed, closed his eyes and indulged- he was instantly calmed. Mick pulled away sheepishly and wiped his saliva away with his thumbs. The room fell silent.
"It's Ok..." he said simply. He looked over Gene's face as if he was going to say more- but instead he leaned over the side of his bed and produced something from under the mattress. "This is all you need..." It was one of his sister's old black eyeliner pencils- still sharp. Mick uncapped it carefully and cupped his hands around Gene's face. His hand rested under Gene's left eye which he began working on first, the pencil ready between his fingers. Slowly, carefully- Mick bit his lip and concentrated as the tip met Gene's skin. Being the only person on earth completely aware of how clumsy and messy Mick could be, Mick very cautiously began to trace Gene's bottom lashline. Gene sat perfectly still, his mind able to rest, but he didn't quite know how to intepret Mick's action. Yet. Mick gulped slightly as he rubbed a smudge off near the end of his line, pulling his head back to examine his work. He did the other eye much the same way, only even slower as he struggled with his right hand on the right side of Gene's face. Mick let out a deep exhale as he pulled his hands away when he was finally done.
Gene blinked as the substance slightly irritated his already-irritated eyes and observed as Mick reached under the mattress once more. This time, deep crimson lipstick. Mick removed the cap and twisted the bottom as he raised it to Gene's lips before he got a different idea. He decided to wipe it across his own lower lip, slightly sloppily, and then smacked his lips to get some on the top. Mick's hands encompassed Gene's face as he pulled in and planted a large, passion-filled kiss to transfer the crimson.
Mick pulled away and smiled. "There... all normal." Gene's bottom lip trembled when Mick moved and turned his head so that they could see their reflections in the mirror across from the bed. His grin faded when he saw that Gene was getting teary-eyed again. He faced him again and frowned. "What now?" Before Gene could smile and thank him, Mick's idle hands slid down over his chest and he spoke again. "Where are your rings? She didn't see those, did she??"
Gene shook his head and retrieved his nipple rings from his pocket and placed them in Mick's hand. Mick slowly lifted Gene's shirt up over his head and it fell soundlessly to the ground. Pushing firmly on his chest for him to lean back on his elbows, Mick scooted even closer to Gene in the space between his now spread and propped up legs. Gently- oh-so-gently- Mick bit his lip as he replaced the rings into Gene's sensitive flesh. They both let out sighs when he had finished.
Gene couldn't even think of what he could possibly say- the simplicity of Mick's actions was enough to rid him of all the trouble he had entered the room with. Before he could come up with any sort of utterance, Mick started again looking straight and deeply into his eyes, "There is nothing wrong with being beautiful." Mick smiled as he kissed over Gene's face, cupped in his hand. "And just that is all you are..." Finally, Mick took Gene's mouth in his and kissed deeply, each swipe of his velvety tongue convincing Gene.
Gene gave up on trying to find words that night as he pulled away to breathe. He felt Mick's mouth caressing its way down his body and his eyes fluttered shut as he lowered himself flat on his back on the bed, breathing deeply.
"Everything about you..." Mick's eyes checked on Gene's as his lips lingered on his chin. While Gene's eyes were shut, Mick pulled away to quickly discard his shirt before laying himself flat on top of Gene; with their warm flesh now in contact, they were just about as close as they could possibly be. "This is beautiful..." He kissed over Gene's neck. "And this..." Up closer to his ear, on his jaw; his voice was muffled. "This is..." He slid down so he could plant kisses over Gene's chest. All of Gene's skin was tingling, not able to anticipate where Mick's warm breath and lips would land next. "And this..." He flicked his tongue at the rings he had replaced- Gene's head fell back further into the mattress at the sensation. "This..." Mick's mouth moved to Gene's stomach now, his hands idly fingering the waistline of Gene's pants. He stopped talking as his lips met Gene's hips. Gene didn't realise until Mick continued to tug on his pants that the whole ordeal was very arousing. He spread his legs as he opened his eyes to check on Mick and found his large, brown eyes staring at him- not really asking for permission to go further, but letting him know...
Their eyes locked for a few more seconds before Mick kissed the flesh right above the button of the jeans- which was soon undone. Mick meticulously undid Gene's zipper and soon Gene lay before him completely unclothed. Gene's breathing was still deep, but now shakey- anxious. He kept his eyes on Mick as Mick's head lowered again. "And this, is especially..." Mick's tongue made a large stroke from Gene's base to his tip.
"Ohhh..." It satisfied Mick to hear Gene's voice again after the moments of his silence- especially since it was a moan. Mick sat up slowly again, observing as Gene's eyes fluttered shut and his legs twitched. Mick swiftly removed all of the rest of his clothing and he moved to straddle Gene's thighs, rubbing his hands all over Gene's torso. Mick finally came up with his next move; he leaned forward and reached for the drawer of his nightstand. Gene's eyes opened as he watched Mick fumble with the Vaseline, lubing up his fingers- but instead of Gene having to lift his legs up, Mick shifted his weight to his unlubed hand planted firmly on the bed. Hovering over Gene, he then commenced to lubricate his own entrance, wincing and writhing as he stretched himself. Gene panted, his erection throbbing- eyes locked on Mick's face. After Mick had taken care of himself, he proceeded to rub a generous amount of the Vaseline onto Gene's ready dick. Mick then leaned forward to plant his hands on the bed on either side of Gene's head, grinning seductively before throwing his head back and closing his eyes to concentrate on relaxing and aligning himself upon Gene's cock.
"Breathe..." Gene advised as his tip entered Mick between his wide-spread thighs; he helped ease himself into Mick by lifting his hips. Mick moaned and gasped repeatedly as he took in all of Gene's length. They both let out sighs when Mick was able to sit all the way down.
"Uh... Oh, oh..." Gene relished in Mick's panting aloud that came from just sitting- being full of Gene; Gene writhed as he could not arch his back or buck into Mick's tightness- they both felt as though they would come instantly.
Sweat already forming on his brow, Mick willed himself to start pushing himself up with his hands to thrust. "Uhhh...." Gene moaned and squeezed his eyes shut, his chin turning upwards toward the ceiling as he dug his nails into Mick's gyrating thighs.
"Uh, uh... Ah... ! Oh, God, ohh..." Gene willed himself to open his eyes again to watch Mick's face as he rode his cock. He was almost smiling as he moved his hand to Gene's chest, slick with sweat.
"Mmm... uh- ohh..." Gene finally managed to shift and arch his back beneath Mick, who began to thrust a bit faster, pressing down hard on Gene's chest which still tried to rise beneath him.
The mattress's grunting combined with the light tapping of the headboard against the wall only encouraged their cries to grow louder, and for everything else to grow more intense.
Gene completely forgot everything that had to do with anything other than what he was doing with Mick now- all he knew was that this was all he ever needed, and his jaw dropped open as he indulged and let Mick pound a grunt out of him with every thrust, "Uh, uh, ah! God..."
"Ah, Geeene..." Mick leaned forward again to place his hands on Gene's shoulders, thrusting downward harder. Gene scratched and dug his nails into Mick's now violently moving ass, wanting to continue being on the brink of orgasm, yet needing release; before he thought he couldn't take it any longer, Gene grew rigid. Mick realised and made quicker, harder thrusts until Gene let out a loud yell. Mick worked to bring himself to climax and soon he collapsed; sweat and semen caused their flesh to stick together.
"Oh, I love you," Gene finally managed to say, bringing Mick's face to his with his hands and kissing him appreciatively. "I love you, I love you..." All Mick could do was drop his head into the sheets next to Gene's head, letting exhaustion take him over.
Gene remained awake under Mick, letting him have the sleep he deserved. Mick's simple reactions proved that all of his troubles were nothing serious or worth while. He almost felt guilty and weak for relying and depending so heavily on Mick; everything Mick did influenced his whole existance- he might have been becoming a bit obsessed. Did he give as much to Mick as he received from him? Gene suddenly felt that Mick would never be able to perceive how much Gene needed him- and he felt even worst at the prospect of not being able to properly convey all the love and appreciation he felt. But he did love him- and that had to count for something.
Whoo, those were long.
Oh. Yes, that's me in the icon for this entry- it's a result of ADD. I was in the middle of working on LOST ones when all of a sudden, it hit me: "other people have icons of themselves, why not me?" So yeah. *dork*
Sigh. I guess I'm gonna go update my other LJ, and then attempt my damn Algebra II homework. And study for the World History test on Tuesday.
I really want to write a slash for A Separate Peace. Why isn't there more/any out there already!? But alas, I don't have a copy of the book anymore.