Hello, Jim Beam
Title: Hello, Jim Beam
Author: Me: Y’all know who I am
Summary: "What did we just do?" Bobby whispered.
"We fucked against a wall, Bobby. I never thought you were that slow."
Rating: NC-17! OMFG, I know!
Notes: Made for my Playlist. Prompt No. 6 Julie Roberts-‘Wake Up Older’ (I bet you people are getting fed up with me…I know. I’m pathetic.)
The Playlist
John woke up on his couch, the small one room apartment smelling of the whiskey that was on the table and his breath. He didn’t get his teeth brushed, and crashed on the couch, so now his mouth taste like yesterday’s news. His head was pounding, and he felt sick. His mouth tasted like bile, and he was seriously regretting not brushing them, but he didn’t exactly fall asleep last night. It was more like passed out on the couch, and the only reason he was there was a pure stroke of luck.
John winced as a crack of sunlight came through the blinds, and plugged his ears because the singing of the birds were too loud. He rubbed his cheeks, the stubble tickling his hands. He glared at the bottle was causing him all this pain, and he bit his lip because he picked it back up. "Hello, Jim Beam. Oh, the places and people you’ve seen. If you could talk you’d tell me why he walked out on me, and you."
"Remember, Johnny, alcohol and emotions don’t mix," the smooth voice of Logan rang in his head. "Because, in the end, you’ll end up getting lost in that bottle. And, kid, you don’t wanna be in that position, because it’s a low that’s harder than hell to get out of."
"I just don’t care anymore," John said to the Logan in his head, as he took another swig of his Jim Beam. He splayed himself over the couch, and gave dirty looks to himself in the reflection of the bottle.
To put it nicely, he looked liked shit. His hair was going in every which way, and his cheeks and chin was covered in a 3 day 5 o’clock shadow. His eyes were dull and lifeless, yet at the same time they were puffy and red from days, weeks, months of crying. His clothes were a wreck because he hadn’t changed them in days. He didn’t feel much better either. He was as emotionally wrecked as much as he looked it. There was a cannon sized hole in his heart, and no matter how much whiskey, vodka, gin, or whatever other alcohol he could get his hands on wouldn’t heal it.
He took another deep swig, and let the concoction burn itself down his esophagus.
But he could try…
Oh, the things lovers do when it’s over.
Oh, the things lovers do when it’s done.
Find a cool bottle or a warm shoulder
Wake up older and try to move on
~Z~
Bobby wasn’t fairing much better. He was awaking to another stranger, a guy named Levi, Bobby thinks. It was something like that, but in the end, all of them looked like John. The same brown hair and deep brown eyes, but none of them held the life or love they held. They never had the sparkles of gold that John’s got when Bobby leaned over him and whispered things in his ear before they came together.
Bobby stood, and dressed. He quietly snuck out of the brunette’s apartment. He felt dirty again. He always did after the sex with the random people that looked too much like him. Like his lost love that he will never be able to have back. He needed a shower and he needed one badly.
This was turning into a daily thing-not the showering thing, that was a given-but the sex thing. Everyday he’d drive past John’s apartment, and very night the light would be off, and John would be gone. He would always be thinking about their last fight. So he would go to the local bar and pick himself up a stranger. He always finds some comfort in the danger, but everytime, ever person, he sees John the whole time they get it on.
"Kid, I know that it hurts now, but don’t loose yourself. The three things that are the easiest to lose yourself in is drugs, alcohol, and sex. Don’t become another statistic." Logan’s voice whispered to him sweetly as he got in his car and drove home.
"I’m another statistic. Sorry, Logan."
Oh, the things lovers do when it’s over.
Oh, the things lovers do when it’s done.
Find a cool bottle or a warm shoulder
Wake up older and try to move on
~Z~
John walked into the bar and sat down at the counter. He was freshly shaven, and was dressed in a clean navy blue shirt and a pair of faded jeans that had holes in the knees. He slid himself in a seat and ordered a scotch on the rocks. The barmaid looked at the 21 year old and served him. She threw a towel over her shoulder and leaned on the counter.
"Looks like life’s been beating you down. So, what’s wrong?" she asked, her voice like the ocean after a storm; calm and worryless, but it also held the southern accent.
"Love, what else?"
"Ah…can’t say I’ve seen someone so young so beat down," the barmaid was in her early 40’s and it broke her heart every time she saw one of these young bucks heartbroken so much that they were slowly killing themselves by drinking away their pain.
"Life’s a bitch, I’ve accepted this. It just…" John leaned over in his seat. "hurt so much more this time."
"Really loved her, didn’t you?"
"I loved him so much that I’d give anything to have him back."
The barmaid smiled at the boy, as tears welled up in his eye. "Hun, don’t worry. Things’ll get better. Maybe you have a guardian angel watching over you."
John downed the rest of the scotch. "Then I wonder where the hell she is." The barmaid laid another one in front of the heartbroken man when he nodded for one more.
Find a cool bottle or a warm shoulder
Wake up older…
Wake up older
~Z~
Bobby walked into the bar, and caught sight of the one he was gonna use tonight. He was at the bar, talking quietly to the barmaid, and he was nursing a scotch. That was a sure sight of a broken heart. Brokenhearted guys were the easiest to get to because they were vulnerable and most likely looking for a warm shoulder, kinda like himself. Bobby approached the guy, who had his back to him.
Bobby sat on the corner of the bar, and ordered a Miller. The other barmaid popped the cap off and sat it in front of Bobby. He grabbed the neck and gulped the beer down quickly. He kept his head lowered, and listened to the conversation that was going on no more than a few feet away.
"So, what happened?" The barmaid, the name tag read Luna, asked the guy, whose own head was lowered and resting in his right hand while his left lifted the scotch up to his pouty lips every now and then.
"I-honestly-don’t know. We tried to make something that should never worked, work. And-obviously-that wasn’t enough. I don’t think I was enough for him. He tried to tell me that I was all he’d ever wanted, but I still thought I wasn’t good enough," He sipped his alcohol then lowered it. There was a cynical smile playing on his full lips. "That probably came from years of abuse from everyone I had once trusted as a child." A cynical laugh slipped from his lips and that perked Bobby’s ears.
"Why didn’t you think you was good ‘nuff?" Luna asked, the Kentucky accent slipping in. The other barmaid called to her, but she ignored her, and waved the other woman off.
"Well, before we became us, he had this really, really beautiful girlfriend. She was everything that anyone would ever want, but the thing about her was that no one could touch her without basically forgetting themselves, and her becoming more crazy than she already was. Well, anyway, they fell apart because of me. If it wasn’t for me they would probably have 3 or 4 tots running around with big baby blue eyes, and dark brown hair with white stripes," the guys voice cracked. He hid his tears as he drank the last of the scotch.
Luna smiled lovingly at the guy, the way a mother would her child. "Darlin’, there’s somethin’ down here in Kentucky that we call ‘fate’. It’s a funny little thang. No one knows what’s gonna happen, or when for that matter, but if it’s meant to be, it’ll be. That’s why he was with you. And that’s why he’s wasn’t with her anymore. And, darlin’, there’s a sayin’ that my Granddaddy passed down to me. "If you love somethin’, set it free. If it comes back, it was meant to be.""
"Well, you’re ‘Granddaddy’ was a wise man." The guy replied, setting the glass down. He was about to get up when Luna grabbed his wrist.
"Boy, if I catch you in this bar again, you’ll regret it," she said, implying that it was going to be bad for his health. The guy flipped his hair out of his eyes, and they were sparkling gold. Bobby choked on his beer, but swallowed it anyway.
"Thanks, Luna." John handed her a twenty. "Keep the change. As a tip."
"Ain’t no thang," she replied, taking the money, then turning to serve the next patron. John smiled morosely, and walked towards the door. Bobby laid down a ten, and followed him out of the bar.
John walked slowly down the street. The heat was bothering Bobby, but he could deal with it. He needed to see if it was really him, or if his eyes were deceiving him again. John pulls a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, and lit it up. John played with the flame from the cigarette a little bit, before taking a drag from it. John lowered it, and just let it smolder by his leg. John dropped it, and turned around, holding a flame in his hand. Bobby stopped a few inches away from his face.
"Bobby?" John’s face was crinkled in confusion. Bobby’s icy hands gripped John’s face, and pulled him towards his lips. They stood there, lips resting against one another. John’s hand extinguished itself, and found it’s way in Bobby’s hair. John moaned into his ex-lover’s mouth, who swallowed it down greedily. They pushed themselves against one another, both craving for skin to skin contact. Bobby back John into the nearest alley, and shoved him violently against the wall. Bobby kissed his way down John’s jawline, nipping at random spots. Bobby, unexpectedly, bit down angrily on the other’s collarbone, marking him, making him his.
"Why are…" John paused for a gasping breath because Bobby thrust his hips up suddenly, making their clothed erections rub together. "You here, Drake?"
Bobby’s only reply was claiming John’s lips with more passion than at first. John didn’t care anymore, because Bobby was fiddling with his button down shirt. After deciding that there was too many buttons than Bobby had the patients to undo, he just tore it open violently. The buttons echoed in the shockingly clean alley. John’s hands found themselves back in Bobby’s hair as Bobby lowed himself down the other’s lean body. Bobby dragged his tongue down John’s stomach, than blew cold breath on him, making the slightly younger one shiver. John grip on Bobby’s hair tightened as he pulled the other back up to his lips. They kissed violently, angrily, hatefully. They poured all their feelings in that kiss; poured all their betrayal in it. All the love they have leftover in it. Bobby pulled back, and went over to John’s ear while his hands stroked slowly over the taut muscles. He nibbled on John’s ear before whispering harshly.
"Let me fuck you."
"Fuck me," John agreed, his hands releasing their murderous grip on the other’s hair. John let them fall on Bobby’s shoulders. Bobby stopped moving all together, as did John. The only thing that moved in that dark alleyway was each of their chest, both gasping for breath. Bobby stared at John, the gold flashing in his eyes along with something else. Something that went beyond lust, but fell just short of hate. John’s toned, pale chest tickled his own with every breath John took. He was still has hot as ever, and his skin was glistening with sweat in the artificial light that came from across the street. Bobby ran his hand through the sweat soaked hair that was sticking to John’s forehead. John leaned into the touch, unconsciously, and closed his eyes. Bobby’s heart rate increased for a whole different reason.
"Come on, Drake, get on with it," John said, not opening his eyes. Bobby’s hands found themselves on John’s hips. He dragged them slowly, teasing John. John’s moan filled the alleyway. Bobby unbuttoned John’s jeans and lowered the zipper, as John growled. "Damnit, Bobby. Hurry up."
Bobby took the advice, and lowered the jeans and boxers to John’s ankles, letting his erection spring forth. Bobby took in the sight, and with ease lifted the lighter one up. John hooked his legs around his partner, while Bobby struggled with his own jeans. One of John’s hands fell from Bobby’s shoulder, and lowered the zipper and then returned back to it’s original position. Bobby’s eyes said his thanks, while the other hand undid the button. Bobby shimmied out of them and his own boxers.
They stared at each other, as Bobby positioned himself at John’s entrance. Their breathing fell in time with each others, as Bobby opened his mouth to ask something.
"Last time was with you," John replied to the unasked question. Bobby nodded quickly, and pushed in slowly. John’s head landed hard on Bobby’s shoulder, but he didn’t feel it, nor did he feel the teeth sink into the tender skin there. He was too concentrated on the heat that was suddenly surrounding him. He kept pushing until he was full in John, then he stopped, letting John get use to the feeling. John’s mouth released the flesh that it had trapped. Bobby finally realized that he must have hurt John because blood was slowly falling down his back, soaking into the cotton that covered it.
"Sorry," Bobby whispered in John’s ear, while John shook his head.
"Just move, Bobby," John whispered back. Bobby pulled back until he was nearly out then he slammed back in. John’s cry filled the air around the two. Bobby did this again, this time John moved against him, creating extra friction that made Bobby moan quietly.
They moved swiftly and zealously against one another, and then it was just like every other time they did this. Bobby didn’t want that this time, he wanted John to remember this one time, for this time to be completely differently than all the others. Bobby suddenly slowed his pace, slowly drawing back, and pushing back in even slower. John moaned against Bobby’s ear, the heat of his breath tickling it.
"Bobby…faster…"
"No." Bobby replied, stopping while he was in John, causing John to release a shudder of a sigh. "I want you to remember this."
Bobby was moving again, John moving along with him. Skinny arms, that was shaking slightly, wrapped themselves around Bobby’s neck, bringing him close to John. John inhaled Bobby’s scent, which was of sweat and a faint cologne. One Bobby’s arms was holding John just as close, while the other was steadying the duo against the wall. Bobby buried his head in John’s shoulder, and instantly, it was as if he was home.
John moaned quietly next to Bobby’s ear. Bobby’s eyes slipped closed, and he tried to concentrate on the movements of himself and John. He tried to concentrate on the heat around him. He tried to concentrate on the sex. But all that fell apart when John whispered in his ear.
"I love you, Bobby."
Bobby would have collapsed, but he knew that that would have been a bad idea. He pushed harder against John, and the gasping of air next to his ear told Bobby that John was nearly there. Bobby bit John’s ear with his lips, and pushed roughly into him one last time before both of them were covered with John’s seed. Bobby came a millisecond later, filling John. He rode out his orgasm, whispering in John’s ear the whole time.
"What did we just do?" Bobby whispered, stopping his movement. John’s breath was coming out in slow gasps, but he answered.
"We fucked against a wall, Bobby. I never thought you were that slow," John snickered, and tried to pry away from Bobby’s grip, but failing horribly. Bobby stayed in John, not wanting to ruin this…whatever…they had.
"I know that, John. I was just asking, where does this leave us?"
"What ‘us’, Bobby? There stopped being an ‘us’ nearly a 6 months ago, or did you forget about that too?"
"No, I didn’t, John," Bobby pushed up against John, making him whimper.
John growled at the fact that Bobby could still do this to him. "What? Did you want to give it another go? To try and be a couple again?" John scoffed.
"You still love me…"
"Love is a word, Bobby. It holds no feelings behind it, just a simple four letter word that people say to get what they want."
"I didn’t use you, John. It was your damn insecurities that drove us apart." Bobby leaned in close to John’s lips, and staring right into his brown/gold eyes whispered, "You couldn’t believe that I love you."
"Get out of me, Bobby, and let me get on with my life."
"Sorry," Bobby pulled away from John, lowering the other slowly. John stepped into his jeans and pulled both them and his boxers up at the same time. Bobby was doing the same, but he watched John the whole time.
"Did you even mean it?"
"Mean what, Drake?"
"When you said that you still loved me…"
John scoffed in the dark, and kicked an invisible bump on the ground. "No."
"Okay." Bobby brushed past John, but then decided against it. Bobby’s icy hands rested against John’s sharp hips, and he leaned in a lightly touched his lips to John’s, just savoring his ex-lover. Bobby pulled back, and looked John square in the eye.
"I meant it."
John’s eyes slid shut, with guilt was the only thing that Bobby could think of, and took a step away from Bobby. His heart sank as he watched John look everywhere but at him. "So, are you coming to my house or not?"
Bobby only answer was taking John’s fiery hot hand and a sweet smile that would have made Better Crocker cringe.
Author: Me: Y’all know who I am
Summary: "What did we just do?" Bobby whispered.
"We fucked against a wall, Bobby. I never thought you were that slow."
Rating: NC-17! OMFG, I know!
Notes: Made for my Playlist. Prompt No. 6 Julie Roberts-‘Wake Up Older’ (I bet you people are getting fed up with me…I know. I’m pathetic.)
The Playlist
John woke up on his couch, the small one room apartment smelling of the whiskey that was on the table and his breath. He didn’t get his teeth brushed, and crashed on the couch, so now his mouth taste like yesterday’s news. His head was pounding, and he felt sick. His mouth tasted like bile, and he was seriously regretting not brushing them, but he didn’t exactly fall asleep last night. It was more like passed out on the couch, and the only reason he was there was a pure stroke of luck.
John winced as a crack of sunlight came through the blinds, and plugged his ears because the singing of the birds were too loud. He rubbed his cheeks, the stubble tickling his hands. He glared at the bottle was causing him all this pain, and he bit his lip because he picked it back up. "Hello, Jim Beam. Oh, the places and people you’ve seen. If you could talk you’d tell me why he walked out on me, and you."
"Remember, Johnny, alcohol and emotions don’t mix," the smooth voice of Logan rang in his head. "Because, in the end, you’ll end up getting lost in that bottle. And, kid, you don’t wanna be in that position, because it’s a low that’s harder than hell to get out of."
"I just don’t care anymore," John said to the Logan in his head, as he took another swig of his Jim Beam. He splayed himself over the couch, and gave dirty looks to himself in the reflection of the bottle.
To put it nicely, he looked liked shit. His hair was going in every which way, and his cheeks and chin was covered in a 3 day 5 o’clock shadow. His eyes were dull and lifeless, yet at the same time they were puffy and red from days, weeks, months of crying. His clothes were a wreck because he hadn’t changed them in days. He didn’t feel much better either. He was as emotionally wrecked as much as he looked it. There was a cannon sized hole in his heart, and no matter how much whiskey, vodka, gin, or whatever other alcohol he could get his hands on wouldn’t heal it.
He took another deep swig, and let the concoction burn itself down his esophagus.
But he could try…
Oh, the things lovers do when it’s over.
Oh, the things lovers do when it’s done.
Find a cool bottle or a warm shoulder
Wake up older and try to move on
~Z~
Bobby wasn’t fairing much better. He was awaking to another stranger, a guy named Levi, Bobby thinks. It was something like that, but in the end, all of them looked like John. The same brown hair and deep brown eyes, but none of them held the life or love they held. They never had the sparkles of gold that John’s got when Bobby leaned over him and whispered things in his ear before they came together.
Bobby stood, and dressed. He quietly snuck out of the brunette’s apartment. He felt dirty again. He always did after the sex with the random people that looked too much like him. Like his lost love that he will never be able to have back. He needed a shower and he needed one badly.
This was turning into a daily thing-not the showering thing, that was a given-but the sex thing. Everyday he’d drive past John’s apartment, and very night the light would be off, and John would be gone. He would always be thinking about their last fight. So he would go to the local bar and pick himself up a stranger. He always finds some comfort in the danger, but everytime, ever person, he sees John the whole time they get it on.
"Kid, I know that it hurts now, but don’t loose yourself. The three things that are the easiest to lose yourself in is drugs, alcohol, and sex. Don’t become another statistic." Logan’s voice whispered to him sweetly as he got in his car and drove home.
"I’m another statistic. Sorry, Logan."
Oh, the things lovers do when it’s over.
Oh, the things lovers do when it’s done.
Find a cool bottle or a warm shoulder
Wake up older and try to move on
~Z~
John walked into the bar and sat down at the counter. He was freshly shaven, and was dressed in a clean navy blue shirt and a pair of faded jeans that had holes in the knees. He slid himself in a seat and ordered a scotch on the rocks. The barmaid looked at the 21 year old and served him. She threw a towel over her shoulder and leaned on the counter.
"Looks like life’s been beating you down. So, what’s wrong?" she asked, her voice like the ocean after a storm; calm and worryless, but it also held the southern accent.
"Love, what else?"
"Ah…can’t say I’ve seen someone so young so beat down," the barmaid was in her early 40’s and it broke her heart every time she saw one of these young bucks heartbroken so much that they were slowly killing themselves by drinking away their pain.
"Life’s a bitch, I’ve accepted this. It just…" John leaned over in his seat. "hurt so much more this time."
"Really loved her, didn’t you?"
"I loved him so much that I’d give anything to have him back."
The barmaid smiled at the boy, as tears welled up in his eye. "Hun, don’t worry. Things’ll get better. Maybe you have a guardian angel watching over you."
John downed the rest of the scotch. "Then I wonder where the hell she is." The barmaid laid another one in front of the heartbroken man when he nodded for one more.
Find a cool bottle or a warm shoulder
Wake up older…
Wake up older
~Z~
Bobby walked into the bar, and caught sight of the one he was gonna use tonight. He was at the bar, talking quietly to the barmaid, and he was nursing a scotch. That was a sure sight of a broken heart. Brokenhearted guys were the easiest to get to because they were vulnerable and most likely looking for a warm shoulder, kinda like himself. Bobby approached the guy, who had his back to him.
Bobby sat on the corner of the bar, and ordered a Miller. The other barmaid popped the cap off and sat it in front of Bobby. He grabbed the neck and gulped the beer down quickly. He kept his head lowered, and listened to the conversation that was going on no more than a few feet away.
"So, what happened?" The barmaid, the name tag read Luna, asked the guy, whose own head was lowered and resting in his right hand while his left lifted the scotch up to his pouty lips every now and then.
"I-honestly-don’t know. We tried to make something that should never worked, work. And-obviously-that wasn’t enough. I don’t think I was enough for him. He tried to tell me that I was all he’d ever wanted, but I still thought I wasn’t good enough," He sipped his alcohol then lowered it. There was a cynical smile playing on his full lips. "That probably came from years of abuse from everyone I had once trusted as a child." A cynical laugh slipped from his lips and that perked Bobby’s ears.
"Why didn’t you think you was good ‘nuff?" Luna asked, the Kentucky accent slipping in. The other barmaid called to her, but she ignored her, and waved the other woman off.
"Well, before we became us, he had this really, really beautiful girlfriend. She was everything that anyone would ever want, but the thing about her was that no one could touch her without basically forgetting themselves, and her becoming more crazy than she already was. Well, anyway, they fell apart because of me. If it wasn’t for me they would probably have 3 or 4 tots running around with big baby blue eyes, and dark brown hair with white stripes," the guys voice cracked. He hid his tears as he drank the last of the scotch.
Luna smiled lovingly at the guy, the way a mother would her child. "Darlin’, there’s somethin’ down here in Kentucky that we call ‘fate’. It’s a funny little thang. No one knows what’s gonna happen, or when for that matter, but if it’s meant to be, it’ll be. That’s why he was with you. And that’s why he’s wasn’t with her anymore. And, darlin’, there’s a sayin’ that my Granddaddy passed down to me. "If you love somethin’, set it free. If it comes back, it was meant to be.""
"Well, you’re ‘Granddaddy’ was a wise man." The guy replied, setting the glass down. He was about to get up when Luna grabbed his wrist.
"Boy, if I catch you in this bar again, you’ll regret it," she said, implying that it was going to be bad for his health. The guy flipped his hair out of his eyes, and they were sparkling gold. Bobby choked on his beer, but swallowed it anyway.
"Thanks, Luna." John handed her a twenty. "Keep the change. As a tip."
"Ain’t no thang," she replied, taking the money, then turning to serve the next patron. John smiled morosely, and walked towards the door. Bobby laid down a ten, and followed him out of the bar.
John walked slowly down the street. The heat was bothering Bobby, but he could deal with it. He needed to see if it was really him, or if his eyes were deceiving him again. John pulls a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, and lit it up. John played with the flame from the cigarette a little bit, before taking a drag from it. John lowered it, and just let it smolder by his leg. John dropped it, and turned around, holding a flame in his hand. Bobby stopped a few inches away from his face.
"Bobby?" John’s face was crinkled in confusion. Bobby’s icy hands gripped John’s face, and pulled him towards his lips. They stood there, lips resting against one another. John’s hand extinguished itself, and found it’s way in Bobby’s hair. John moaned into his ex-lover’s mouth, who swallowed it down greedily. They pushed themselves against one another, both craving for skin to skin contact. Bobby back John into the nearest alley, and shoved him violently against the wall. Bobby kissed his way down John’s jawline, nipping at random spots. Bobby, unexpectedly, bit down angrily on the other’s collarbone, marking him, making him his.
"Why are…" John paused for a gasping breath because Bobby thrust his hips up suddenly, making their clothed erections rub together. "You here, Drake?"
Bobby’s only reply was claiming John’s lips with more passion than at first. John didn’t care anymore, because Bobby was fiddling with his button down shirt. After deciding that there was too many buttons than Bobby had the patients to undo, he just tore it open violently. The buttons echoed in the shockingly clean alley. John’s hands found themselves back in Bobby’s hair as Bobby lowed himself down the other’s lean body. Bobby dragged his tongue down John’s stomach, than blew cold breath on him, making the slightly younger one shiver. John grip on Bobby’s hair tightened as he pulled the other back up to his lips. They kissed violently, angrily, hatefully. They poured all their feelings in that kiss; poured all their betrayal in it. All the love they have leftover in it. Bobby pulled back, and went over to John’s ear while his hands stroked slowly over the taut muscles. He nibbled on John’s ear before whispering harshly.
"Let me fuck you."
"Fuck me," John agreed, his hands releasing their murderous grip on the other’s hair. John let them fall on Bobby’s shoulders. Bobby stopped moving all together, as did John. The only thing that moved in that dark alleyway was each of their chest, both gasping for breath. Bobby stared at John, the gold flashing in his eyes along with something else. Something that went beyond lust, but fell just short of hate. John’s toned, pale chest tickled his own with every breath John took. He was still has hot as ever, and his skin was glistening with sweat in the artificial light that came from across the street. Bobby ran his hand through the sweat soaked hair that was sticking to John’s forehead. John leaned into the touch, unconsciously, and closed his eyes. Bobby’s heart rate increased for a whole different reason.
"Come on, Drake, get on with it," John said, not opening his eyes. Bobby’s hands found themselves on John’s hips. He dragged them slowly, teasing John. John’s moan filled the alleyway. Bobby unbuttoned John’s jeans and lowered the zipper, as John growled. "Damnit, Bobby. Hurry up."
Bobby took the advice, and lowered the jeans and boxers to John’s ankles, letting his erection spring forth. Bobby took in the sight, and with ease lifted the lighter one up. John hooked his legs around his partner, while Bobby struggled with his own jeans. One of John’s hands fell from Bobby’s shoulder, and lowered the zipper and then returned back to it’s original position. Bobby’s eyes said his thanks, while the other hand undid the button. Bobby shimmied out of them and his own boxers.
They stared at each other, as Bobby positioned himself at John’s entrance. Their breathing fell in time with each others, as Bobby opened his mouth to ask something.
"Last time was with you," John replied to the unasked question. Bobby nodded quickly, and pushed in slowly. John’s head landed hard on Bobby’s shoulder, but he didn’t feel it, nor did he feel the teeth sink into the tender skin there. He was too concentrated on the heat that was suddenly surrounding him. He kept pushing until he was full in John, then he stopped, letting John get use to the feeling. John’s mouth released the flesh that it had trapped. Bobby finally realized that he must have hurt John because blood was slowly falling down his back, soaking into the cotton that covered it.
"Sorry," Bobby whispered in John’s ear, while John shook his head.
"Just move, Bobby," John whispered back. Bobby pulled back until he was nearly out then he slammed back in. John’s cry filled the air around the two. Bobby did this again, this time John moved against him, creating extra friction that made Bobby moan quietly.
They moved swiftly and zealously against one another, and then it was just like every other time they did this. Bobby didn’t want that this time, he wanted John to remember this one time, for this time to be completely differently than all the others. Bobby suddenly slowed his pace, slowly drawing back, and pushing back in even slower. John moaned against Bobby’s ear, the heat of his breath tickling it.
"Bobby…faster…"
"No." Bobby replied, stopping while he was in John, causing John to release a shudder of a sigh. "I want you to remember this."
Bobby was moving again, John moving along with him. Skinny arms, that was shaking slightly, wrapped themselves around Bobby’s neck, bringing him close to John. John inhaled Bobby’s scent, which was of sweat and a faint cologne. One Bobby’s arms was holding John just as close, while the other was steadying the duo against the wall. Bobby buried his head in John’s shoulder, and instantly, it was as if he was home.
John moaned quietly next to Bobby’s ear. Bobby’s eyes slipped closed, and he tried to concentrate on the movements of himself and John. He tried to concentrate on the heat around him. He tried to concentrate on the sex. But all that fell apart when John whispered in his ear.
"I love you, Bobby."
Bobby would have collapsed, but he knew that that would have been a bad idea. He pushed harder against John, and the gasping of air next to his ear told Bobby that John was nearly there. Bobby bit John’s ear with his lips, and pushed roughly into him one last time before both of them were covered with John’s seed. Bobby came a millisecond later, filling John. He rode out his orgasm, whispering in John’s ear the whole time.
"What did we just do?" Bobby whispered, stopping his movement. John’s breath was coming out in slow gasps, but he answered.
"We fucked against a wall, Bobby. I never thought you were that slow," John snickered, and tried to pry away from Bobby’s grip, but failing horribly. Bobby stayed in John, not wanting to ruin this…whatever…they had.
"I know that, John. I was just asking, where does this leave us?"
"What ‘us’, Bobby? There stopped being an ‘us’ nearly a 6 months ago, or did you forget about that too?"
"No, I didn’t, John," Bobby pushed up against John, making him whimper.
John growled at the fact that Bobby could still do this to him. "What? Did you want to give it another go? To try and be a couple again?" John scoffed.
"You still love me…"
"Love is a word, Bobby. It holds no feelings behind it, just a simple four letter word that people say to get what they want."
"I didn’t use you, John. It was your damn insecurities that drove us apart." Bobby leaned in close to John’s lips, and staring right into his brown/gold eyes whispered, "You couldn’t believe that I love you."
"Get out of me, Bobby, and let me get on with my life."
"Sorry," Bobby pulled away from John, lowering the other slowly. John stepped into his jeans and pulled both them and his boxers up at the same time. Bobby was doing the same, but he watched John the whole time.
"Did you even mean it?"
"Mean what, Drake?"
"When you said that you still loved me…"
John scoffed in the dark, and kicked an invisible bump on the ground. "No."
"Okay." Bobby brushed past John, but then decided against it. Bobby’s icy hands rested against John’s sharp hips, and he leaned in a lightly touched his lips to John’s, just savoring his ex-lover. Bobby pulled back, and looked John square in the eye.
"I meant it."
John’s eyes slid shut, with guilt was the only thing that Bobby could think of, and took a step away from Bobby. His heart sank as he watched John look everywhere but at him. "So, are you coming to my house or not?"
Bobby only answer was taking John’s fiery hot hand and a sweet smile that would have made Better Crocker cringe.