Tuesday, May 15, 2012

Picking Up the Pieces Pt. 2

 Hurray more writing time.  I started this story a while ago and wanted to take a tiny break from Charcoal, so I figured I would pick this back up.  If you haven't read the first part it is here: http://lillybleu.blogspot.com/2012/04/picking-up-pieces.html , I also added a follow by email thing, so you can do that too.  As always comments will bring you infinite brownie points and delicious theoretical chocolate. Anyway.  I hope you enjoy!

I sat in the library for hours, waiting to calm down enough to face Peter again, but each time when I would think about seeing his face, all of what he had said came rushing back to me. He couldn't have been saying it all in anger. The most hurtful were things that had been stewing, things that I had done in the past. How had I not noticed before?

Finally exhausted, long after the sun has set, I made myself go back to the loft.

Peter was there, sitting on the couch with a pint of ice cream. He didn’t look up when I entered. The silver object still rested by my computer. I ignored it and headed toward my bed.

“Jax?” Peter finally looked up. “I don’t want us to fight.” I shrugged. Peter was good at forgiving and forgetting, I took a bit longer. “Jackson. Don't be a dick.” Peter dropped his spoon and walked toward me. He stopped just in front of me, and I was reminded that he did have an inch and a half on me. It usually wasn’t a big difference, but from this close- it did.

“I'm not, I just want some time to think.” It was true, except I had spent the day thinking and it hadn't helped me at all.

“I'm sorry, I should have known you wouldn’t want a threesome. It was rude of Marc to ask. Can we be over this now?” Peter flashed one of his award winning smiles. A lesser man would have been appeased.

“Peter, it isn't just that.” I took a step back. It was uncomfortable to be so close to anyone, even Peter.

“I know I’ve been a dick too, but come on. You shouldn’t be so surprised.” I frowned, surprised? That Marc though I was pretty enough to fuck? That Peter thought of threesomes and common?

“I don’t know what you mean.” I was really ready to be left alone. It was impossible to express to Peter that his way of life wasn't quite as normal as he seemed to think, that his actions would come back to haunt him. That had remained the same for all the years I had known him. He never learned from his mistakes.

“I think you are gorgeous.” Peter leaned closer to me, I turned my head. I couldn’t do this, now or ever.
“Please? I’ve loved you for years. No one can replace you. When you left I didn’t know what I would do if you didn’t come back.” Peter's eyes were open and clear of deceit and malice, as they always where. But just because he didn’t mean to cause harm didn’t mean he wouldn’t.

“Peter I-” I didn’t know what to say.

“I am always sad after a breakup, but I always know that you will be there to make it better. I know I should listen to you more, but each time I meet someone, I wish they were you. I wish I could have waited for you. But when I realized how much I loved you, that the difference between what I felt for you and all the others was love not friendship, it was already too late. I don’t even know what you like, you never date. I couldn’t bear for you to reject me. But more so I didn’t want to loose your friendship.” Peter was so close to me. I could feel his breath against my face. He smelled like chocolate and caramel.

“Were you eating my ice cream?” My mind was so behind, I though through all the years, breakups. How many times I had wondered what was wrong with me that others didn’t like me, but Peter the most perfect of them all did?

There were tears forming in Peter's eyes, he was so close.

“That's all you can say?” He sniffed and pulled away from me. “I'm so sorry. I knew I would ruin this somehow. I can leave if you want the loft. I paid through the rest-” I didn’t know what I was doing, but I couldn’t live without my best, only friend. It had been a crazy week of ups and downs and I couldn’t take one more down, it would break me.

Before I could think I leaned forward and kissed him. I didn’t know what I was doing, but I couldn’t let him leave, I didn’t have the words yet. I felt Peter's soft gasp against my lips. I began to pull back, but he wasn’t having any of that. I felt the wall against my back, the coolness of the smooth paint a contrast to Peter's warm body and velvet tongue brushing against my lips. What had I started?

I wrapped my hands around Peter's chest for security, and he hugged me tighter to him. My head was forced against the wall, and somehow it felt amazing. I felt one of his hands sneaking under my t shirt, and the tickling sensation made me gasp. How could such a simple touch feel so good. I gasped into his mouth and arched my back. The nervousness I imagined feeling in my first kiss was absent, and everything was about what felt good.

Peter's kisses stole my breath, and he had my shirt off and on the floor before I could process what was happening. As I was going to protest he pressed back against me and the wall against my back and his soft shirt against my chest stole the protests from my lips. My own hands tunneled under his shirt, his skin was so smooth, he felt like sunshine. I moaned into his mouth and he took the opportunity to slip his tongue past my lips. I felt his smile as I gripped him tighter. I never knew how much feeling a mouth could experience. Peter ground his hips against mine and liquid heat shot up my spine. I was harder than I had ever been before. I couldn’t imagine being more turned on, then Peter ran one of his hands up the leg of my pants to rest just below my pubic bone, I shuddered, it was so, so close to where I wanted to be touched. Each movement of his hand brought me closer to the edge. I had never cum with another person, I had never gotten close, The intensity frightened me, but I couldn’t bring myself to step away.

Peter kissed his way down my neck and I arched under his touch, hitting my head against the wall, my knees were shaking, only the pressure of Peter's body kept me upright. As he traveled down my neck he slowed, licking , and nibbling, and kissing down my chest. When he blew on one of my nipples a drop of precum dripped into my underwear. I couldn't imagine lasting much longer without orgasm, and Peter seemed to sense this.

“Come on, I can't hold you up forever!” Peter slip his hand from between my legs and nudged me toward my bed. His blond hair was tousled, his eyes bright. I licked my lips and he moaned. “I knew you'd melt eventually.” Each step hurt I was so painfully hard. The bed looked so far away. I pulled Peter down to the floor with me and began fighting with his pants. He quickly stripped me out of mine, then finished undressing himself, I was whimpering and dripping and hindering him more than helping. He laughed at my eagerness then pushed me onto my back.

“Knees up.” I obeyed without thinking. First he blew on the tip of my erection and the sensation was more than I could bear. I tried to push away from him, but he pinned my hips and licked me root to tip. My muscles froze and my heart stopped. I tried to scream but didn’t have the breath. With another laugh Peter took me into his mouth and began to suck. I gripped his hair as tightly as I was able and tried to push in as deeply as I could. Each giggle or moan from Peter's mouth turned my spine into a tuning fork. I felt an explosion was imminent, but right before it truly became too much Peter pulled away.

“No, please, so close!” I whined and twisted, trying to force his head back. Peter merely smiled and pushed my legs closer to my chest and disappeared behind them. I held my breath waiting for what he would do, and when his tongue touched my most private place I couldn’t hold back any longer. Streams and streams of white decorated my chest, and long after they stopped my orgasm continued. I Lights spun behind my eyes as I felt Peter's velvet tongue cleaning my stomach and chest. His hand petted my sweat soaked hair from my face. I opened my eyes to him smiling at me.

“Intense?” He asked, I could only nod.

After a few moments of basking in Peter's borrowed glow, I began to itch, my mind turned back on. How could I have crossed that boundary, when you have sex with someone, you are having sex with everyone you both have. Peter had done so many things with so many people, how would I be different? How could I deal with knowing I was probably in the triple digits just from touching him?

“Peter?” I asked. He propped himself up on an elbow to look down on me. “What are we doing?”

“I'm loving you.” He smiled, “what do you think? I want you to feel better than you ever have. Did I succeed.” He looked so happy.

“Love isn’t just sex you know.” He nodded.

“I know, it's just a way to show it. And it's fun.” I sat up to look at him easier.

“Peter.” He seemed to suddenly understand.

“You can't leave after that. You have to stay, at least think about it, I can be better, I would be faithful to you, I love you more than anything.” He gripped my hands. I pulled it away gently.

“What about Marc?” Peter's brow clenched.

“I didn’t think about that, but he will be okay.” Peter sat up too. “All that matters is that you are here with me now. I want to teach you everything, let you feel everything.” Everything he had done with others. I felt dirty, thinking of all the places his mouth had been, how many germs there could be. I shivered for a completely different reason.

“I need a minute.” I went into the bathroom and set up a shower. I grabbed my toothbrush and toothpaste, and began to brush.

“Jax? Jax, you've been in there for 20 minutes, isn’t the water getting cold.” It was, but I wasn’t clean yet. The toothbrush was still in my mouth and I was working on the 7th round of body wash, I still didn’t feel completely clean. I rinsed my mouth out with the lukewarm shower water and spit pink blood tinted foam down the drain. My gum's may have been bleeding, but my teeth still weren’t clean.

“Almost done.” Just a few more rinses.

The doorknob turned, the shower door was glass and there Peter was, dressed only in a pair of tight dark blue briefs. I could see he was still hard. I grabbed the soap, time for another rinse.
“Jackson, stop.” He took a step toward me.

“Stop!” the toothbrush almost dropped out of my mouth, I held the sponge up like a shield. I was glad the shower doors were still steamy, I didn’t want him to see me naked.

“Jackson, your panicking. You just need to stop.” I shook my head frantically. I wasn’t panicking, I just couldn’t get clean.

I screamed when Peter opened the shower door and turned off the water, a bit of bloody saliva dripped to the soapy shower floor.

Peter held out a clean white towel, I couldn’t help picturing all the things it may have wiped up. I imagined germs hiding in the soft white weave, little sperm cells just waiting to dirty my skin. I choked on a sob.

“It's not clean.” I fumbled for the water to turn it back on.

Peter left the tiny bathroom and I sobbed harder, icy water fell on me, and I upturned the nearly empty body was container over the sponge and began washing again.

The skin under my fingernails was turning purplish when Peter returned, with him was a paramedic. My heart began to pound. My mom often threatened to send me to treatment, but she would never do it. My throat threatened to close.

“I'm not crazy.” Great way to start, that was what the crazy people said, “It's just not clean, and the towel is dirty and-” The paramedic pulled a clean towel from a plastic wrapping and held it out to me.

“No one thinks you are crazy sweetie,” she said. “We just don’t want you getting too cold in the shower.” I took the towel from her hands, happy to see the gloves covering her hands. “That's it, time to get you tucked in.”

Ten minutes later I was tucked into bed, with clean sheets, with a hot cup of tea and two Xanax. I was still shivering, and still didn’t feel quite clean, but much better than before. Once she was certain I wasn’t going to do anything stupid, and making Peter promise to watch me the medic left.

“You should see your psychiatrist to talk about this.” She had told me before leaving. “The school can't do anything unless you ask for help, but you should talk to someone.” I had nodded, relieved that this wasn’t going on some record.

“I made her promise.” Peter whispered after she shut the door. “That nothing would happen to you. I know you don’t want anyone to know.” I nodded and held my cup tighter. I tried to not think of all the germs on Peter's skin, but I couldn’t help it.

“Maybe you should shower?” I whispered, not wanting to offend. With a shake of his head, Peter went to take his very first cold shower.


“I didn’t think this would happen, I didn’t think.” Peter was wrapped in a bathrobe with a towel on his head. He perched on the very edge of my bed. “I just wanted you to feel what I do.”

I nodded, it had been years since I had had an attack. Peter had been there then too.

“I know, I didn’t think either.” I tried not to think about attacks at all, if I though about it too long I began to think of the germs, so thinking about them was almost a sure way to have one.

“Maybe we could try in the shower.” Peter smiled trying to make his words into a joke, but I knew he was at least partly serious, I hadn’t reciprocated, and Peter was notoriously bad at self restraint.

“How do you know this is even a good idea? I mean, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to-' I gestured vaguely toward his crotch, “and you-”

“We can work it out, plus there are lots of really clean things we could do.” I didn’t want to think about it anymore. I was getting unbearably sleepy, and I had to brush my teeth after the sugary tea. I slipped off the bed, tiptoeing to avoid touching too much of the ground.

Peter trailed me to the bathroom. I imagined him as a golden retriever puppy and laughed, it was perfect. So sweet, so loyal, so eager to please and yet so misguided.

“Peter I am trying to tell you, I can't do this right now. I have to think. Not for five minutes, not for a night. I really don’t know if I can do this with anyone, never mind my best, only, friend.”

“Oh” Peter whispered and retreated from the bathroom. “I think I understand.”

1 comment:

  1. Oh, wow...and I thought my ticks were bad! I hope they can be happy.