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Apr. 27th, 2011 07:25 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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m0rae (moreae.tumblr.com)and xstarlesscity (imgaydidntyouknow.tumblr.com)GUIDELINES:
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Re: Days in a week (2/3)
Date: 2011-04-29 04:54 pm (UTC)It’s the most perfect filet mignon ever made — thick slices of bacon with such visible streak of fat around a perfect circle of steak that practically bleeds under perfect browning. Xavier is proud beyond measure and in some kind of culinary heaven. It’s good, very good, yes, Gaspard fully agrees with that.
But it throws their collective sanity into question when Xavier is slouched against the table moaning like a woman over a steak. Worse, maybe, is that it’s getting to him.
He knows it’s at least partially fake, but the way Xavier’s eyelashes flutter and his eyes roll heavenward with every bite he takes isn’t fake at all. He wants to push their plates away and kiss him stupid in that moment, but it would only make things worse.
Because, yes, Xavier would let him do all that and just in the heat of the moment he’d say, “Wait, stop.”
There would be a little smile, “Monday.”
He chokes on a swallow of wine and wishes it was something a bit stronger.
“Am I making this hard for you?” Xavier teases. The double entendre is not even subtle, but it does make him laugh.
“I’m sorry,” he offers. “It will be worth it, I promise.”
Gaspard trusts him, but it’s the third day and when Xavier moans around a bite of food he’s not so sure he will last the next five days.
Jeudi
“I don’t trust you,” Xavier says, answering the question before Gaspard can ask it.
There’s probably only a little bit of truth in that, though, because as he turns on the water, Xavier presses in close.
“Can’t I touch you?” he pleads, when Gaspard tries to pull away.
It’s lovely torture to feel his skin sliding against him under the hot water of the shower, but it’s still torture. He can feel Xavier’s hardness pressing against the back of his thigh. He can’t resist turning around and pulling Xavier in close.
A kiss quiets anything else Xavier might say.
It’s hard and needy. He wants him more every passing day and the anticipation is growing into something of an obsession. Even knowing he won’t get off, Gaspard can’t keep his hands off Xavier’s body. He touches him because he can’t touch himself, with hard, insistent strokes that make Xavier sob and bite at his shoulder.
“Yes, yes, yes,” Xavier begs him.
His over-stimulated cock aches with every word, with every pounding drop of water, with every twitch of the muscles in Xavier’s flat stomach.
They share a deep kiss, after, and Xavier thanks him, tells him he loves him, and is full of reassurances.
“Now I have to get out of here,” he teases. “I hate cold showers.”
The one he runs is cold enough to hurt.
Vendredi
He dreams about the sex he’s not having and wakes up hard and sweating. Xavier shifts in his sleep and turns to kiss his skin before he’s really awake.
“Don’t,” he says.
Gaspard doesn’t answer. Beneath the sheets, Xavier moves his hand against himself. They both wake up hard more often then not. Part of him wants to see, wants to see Xavier draw the skin of his cock up over the head again and again with his beautiful hands. But it’s painful enough just to imagine it.
“I love you,” Xavier says, his breath warm on Gaspard’s skin. “I want you.”
“Then have me,” Gaspard whispers, letting his need speak for him.
Xavier shakes his head sleepily.
“No, sorry, no,” and Gaspard can hear the sincerity in his voice. It isn’t easy for either of them, he supposes, but the greater burden is clearly on his own shoulders. His hands are shaking as he brushes them over Xavier’s arms. He can feel the strain of muscles as they twitch in the same motion again and again.
“We have to wait,” Xavier says. “Have to.”
His voice is rough and deep with sex, it makes Gaspard shiver just to hear.
“Oh god, it will be so perfect,” he says, lost in whatever secret fantasy he has planned this time. “God, yes, yes.”
Gaspard lays in bed with him, aching with more needs than he could ever hope to articulate.
Re: Days in a week (3/3)
Date: 2011-04-29 04:56 pm (UTC)They crash a tiny, no-name club by complete accident. Well, an accident named Pedro Winter, who no doubt had it all quite planned out and pre-arranged.
But some things he could not have thought to arrange, at least Gaspard hopes he hasn't.
The fact that Xavier's wearing a thin white shirt that fits tight to his shoulders, for example, was not pre-ordained. It's the kind of shirt that has worn so much that it's practically see-through to begin with, but sticks to Xavier's skin as he sweats such that he might as well be shirtless.
Gaspard leans in to hand him the CD he's about to look for.
"Are those my jeans?" he asks, lips against Xavier's ear.
"Yes!" he mouths back.
They're loose on his hips, but tighter in the thighs than Xavier usually wears. Plus the cuffs are rolled up over the tops of his sneakers. They don't fit quite right, but that doesn't really matter. Their arms brush and though it makes Xavier glare at him, he makes the occasional adjustment. They can argue about it later, until now, he's listening to it and while Xavier watches the levels he's keeping his eyes on the crowd that heaves and screams for Xavier's attention.
He feels a sort of strange affinity for all of them. The screaming desperation — any other night he'd call it crazy, but tonight it's how he feels every time he looks at Xavier.
Dimanche
The next day he goes out alone. Yes, he’s avoiding Xavier, but it only helps a bit.
The harder he tries not to think about it, the more he thinks about it. Of course. His mind is a free porno theater made up of memories and fantasies.
The curve of Xavier’s neck as he bows his head. The wet curve of his open mouth as he moans his name. The way his skin moves over his ribs as he’s panting for breath. Gaspard can feel the texture of Xavier’s hair, the heat of his lips, the give of his skin in his memories. The phantom taste of Xavier’s kisses rises in his mouth.
He gets a text message — an apology.
“It’s fine,” he types back. “I’ll be home soon.”
Instead, he falls asleep in a friend’s studio, by accident.
“Where’s Xavier?” was the first question asked, but all Gaspard could do was shrug. There’s no way he can explain it, but if he didn’t get away he was possibly going to go insane. Xavier doesn’t do it on purpose, and no doubt he needs the break too.
If anticipation could kill, they’d both be dead by now.
His ringtone wakes him.
“Hello,” he says, sleepily.
“It’s midnight,” Xavier says with a certain tone in his voice. “Come home already.”
Lundi
Xavier pulls him up against his body. His kisses are desperate and full of sharp teeth.
“I couldn’t stop thinking about this,” he says between their mouths. “All the time you were gone.”
They don’t make it far past the front door, but Xavier’s hand is down the front of his jeans. The intensity of his touch is enough to make Gaspard wince. There’s a certain kind of painful relief in the place where their desperation collides.
Xavier slides down the wall, biting at is collar and his belly through the fabric of his shirt.
Open fly, undone zipper, warm hands and then Xavier’s lips are wrapped around the head of his cock. He bites his tongue as he groans. Then he pulls away and Gaspard is left with his hips thrusting against nothing.
Xavier tugs his shirt up and off. Then he tilts his head until he’s looking up at Gaspard through his lashes.
“Come on,” he says.
His hands are wrapped around Gaspard’s painfully hard cock and Gaspard puts his hands over Xavier’s. It’s over fast, in just a few, tight, hard strokes. Orgasm comes from somewhere deep and tight inside him, hot in long pulses that make the muscles in his back clench hard enough to hurt.
Flashes of light and black blind him and he cannot even hear his own strangled voice in his throat.
He looks down, when his vision returns, to Xavier grinning at him. Semen is splattered across his cheek and the bridge of his nose. It drips down his lips and covers his chest in thin lines. Pooling in the hollows of his collarbones and throat, it’s filthy and erotic.
Gaspard realizes he is still hard, for all that.
“Again?” Xavier asks, rising to his feet. Gaspard answers with a kiss.
Re: Days in a week (3/3)
Date: 2011-04-29 08:51 pm (UTC)Re: Days in a week (3/3)
Date: 2011-04-29 11:20 pm (UTC)