| Welcome to Sherbet Lemons & Acid Pops. We hope you enjoy your visit. Join our community! If you're already a member please log in to your account to access all of our features: |
| Oh No He Didn't | |
|---|---|
| Tweet Topic Started: Oct 2 2010, 05:53 PM (238 Views) | |
| Gareth Twain | Oct 2 2010, 05:53 PM Post #1 |
![]() ![]()
|
"Hurry up, man, or we’re going to miss the carriages !" Gare let out a hefty breath, corners of his mouth turned down as he turned towards the staircase – Jace already downstairs – yelling, “I’m coming, you impatient git, just looking for my mask.” He really didn’t want to go. Turning to look at himself in the mirror yet again, like he’d done fifty times over already– he was stalling, he knew, but it couldn’t be helped – he just saw the same reflection he’d been looking at for the past ten minutes. He was wearing a black tuxedo – part of his family may be as pureblood as they come, the concept of dress robes had never been one he’d wanted to get acquainted with – matched with a blue waistcoat, a white shirt and a silk blue tie. Even though he didn’t want to go, he had to admit to himself that he looked good. The blue in his tux really brought out the colour of his eyes and his hair – for the occasion – had been modeled into something a little more coiffed than usual, but still looking as if he’d just rolled out of bed – didn’t want to make too much fucking effort either. He’d promised Jace, though. They’d always gone to that sort of shit together, each other’s wingmen – even though Gare knew he was eventually going to be dumped for something with boobs and a twat, since that’s what Jace went for and Gare – fortunately – lacked those parts. For Gare, though, these sort of evenings usually meant lurking at the bar, drinking too much and then doing something monumentally stupid like snogging a cute bloke that turned out to be straight – at which point Jace would have to cut in before Gare ended up with a shiner. Normally, he didn’t mind going to these sort of events, hell, he even kind of liked it. This time, though, he felt oddly reluctant. Then again, since the Axel-incident he’d become kind of a shut in, driving Jace mad with his different excuses on why he simply couldn’t go out. He certainly expected Axel to turn up dead any day now – Jace had been quite livid finding out he’d tried to do that and now for him to have turned his best friend into a recluse again… Gare had said he’d come along for this, though. It was a pretty big event, a lot of people were going to be there and since it was a masked ball, the chance of running into Axel, Brenner on any of those homophobic ponces was pretty slim – they weren’t going to recognize him right away. So with a last reluctant sigh, he grabbed his mask and made his way down stairs. “Well, finally,” Jace grumbled, smirk none the less on his face. “Looking sharp, mate,” the other boy commented, causing Gare to grin despite himself. “Same can be said for you,” he shot back, putting on his blue and silver mask covering his eyes and nose. Just as Gare, Jace was wearing a tux. Instead of the traditional black, his was a dark grey, with a matching light grey waistcoat and tie on a white shirt. His mask was a solid silver colour, showing only mischievous hazel eyes. If Jace hadn’t been his best friend and straight on top of it, Gare would’ve definitely wanted a piece of that – he’d said as much to Jace on multiple times and Jace always replied with “only in your dreams, sweetheart.” It worked for them. They worked – Gare couldn’t wish for a better friend as the one he already had, and how many people could say the same thing? The carriage ride, although short, was really uncomfortable – at least for Gare. The girl who’d been travelling with them in the carriage hadn’t stopped staring at Gareth, head slightly cocked to the side – it made Gare think of that one horror movie Jace had made him watch once, Children Of The Corn – before finally saying, “Your eyes look really pretty.” The way Jace had had to hold back his laughter had been pretty damn fun, but the icing on the cake would’ve been the boy sitting next to her – he’d stared at him with murder in his gaze for the rest of the ride. “Damn,” Jace had said nonchalantly after they’d gotten off the carriage, in front of the Three Broomsticks, the bloke having dragged his girlfriend in already so she’d stop making moony eyes at Gare. “If looks could kill, you would’ve been a smoldering pile of ash at the bottom of that carriage.” Gare shot him a glare, only managing to make Jace’s grin widen. “It wasn’t him that was freaking me out. I was almost afraid she would pounce on me and suck out my soul,” his eyes widened in mock-fear, his tone dry and sarcastic as was his wont. Jace snorted. “Yeah, that black dress did make her look rather dementor-like, I think you’re on to something,” he clapped his hand on Gare’s shoulder, grin growing to its usual shit-eating proportions and Gare cuffed him on the back of the head lightly before pushing him towards the door. That had been two hours ago. Gare was standing, as predicted, at the bar – Jace had long since disappeared into the crowd – nursing a butterbeer. His idea of getting drunk had been shot down as soon as he’d tried ordering a fire whiskey and had been asked to show ID – see, this is why he preferred the Hog’s Head – and although he could’ve asked some of the older guys to order something for him, he didn’t recognize a single fucking soul in the mass and he didn’t feel like asking some stranger. In other words, he was being pretty pathetic. “Oh my god, it’s you!” With a jolt, his eyes turned to the girl that had wedged herself on the stool next to him, clearly already having imbibed one too many glasses of the strong stuff if the glassy eyed look was anything to go by. “The one with the pretty eyes!” Karma was trying to get back at him. For what, he didn’t know, but the bitch definitely had it out for him. He watched in muted shock as the drunk dementor-girl – her boyfriend nowhere to be seen and Gare hoped it stayed that way – leaned forward and promptly splayed her hand on his thigh, giggling inanely. Gare leaned back immediately, the smell of alcohol wafting from her making him feel slightly ill. “I don’t think…,” he started, but broke off with a yelp as the adventurous hand travelled higher and was now resting on a place he definitely didn’t want a hand to be. Especially not one belonging to a drunken girl with a rather weird fascination with his eyes. Don’t get him wrong, he had nothing against the female species. Just because he was gay, didn’t mean he didn’t like looking at a pretty girl. Drunken girls, though, that was a sort he liked to stay as far away from as possible – with their giggling and inappropriate pawing, not to mention the fact that they seemed to lose all inhibitions, it wasn’t something he liked being faced with. Case in point. Grabbing her hand a tad more forcefully than probably warranted, he roughly pushed it away from his crotch – entirely forgetting that she’d been actually leaning on that hand, making her fall face forward into his lap. “Oh crap, I’m sorry…,” he started – the fact that she was drunk didn’t excuse him hurting her in any way - but she only giggled, cutting him off again. “Well, if you wanted that, why didn’t you say so?” she slurred drunkenly and reached for the opening of his trousers. This was fucking unbelievable. “Fuck, no,” he cried, grabbing her shoulders and pushing her back – how much had the girl consumed anyway? Merlin’s bloody left sock. He made to jump of his stool and find somewhere else to lurk, but either the girl hadn’t consumed as much as he believed or she was simply very persistent, because next thing he knew, Gare was half off his seat, the girl’s hands grabbing the lapels of his jacket and he only heard her slur “You’re cute, let’s kiss,” before he suddenly had a pair of lips on his, kissing him rather thoroughly. Fuck, was this girl on steroids or something? Arms flailing, slightly, his eyes wide open in shock and disbelief, he desperately hoped that Jace would never, ever find out. Ever. Of course, the entire scene wouldn't be complete without her damn boyfriend suddenly showing up - which was exactly what happened after Gare's umpteenth desperate attempt to pry the damn girl off his lips - and he was pretty damn livid too, yelling, "How dare you taking advantage of my girl when you clearly see she's drunk?" Gare would've liked to point out the flaws in that accusation, but the need to duck was more pressing as the bloke swung his fist back and made to punch him. Well, that would be the first time he'd get a shiner for kissing a girl. And he hadn't even been doing the damn kissing. Edited by Gareth Twain, Oct 2 2010, 05:56 PM.
|
| |
![]() |
|
| Nicholas Diederik | Oct 3 2010, 09:07 PM Post #2 |
![]() ![]()
|
Nicho hated fancy dress balls. He hated them for their fanciness and their air of aristocracy. He hated that he was forced to chaperone his sisters. Be the big brother. Make sure they didn’t behave in any uncouth fashion. It didn’t matter how many times he explained to his mum that the girls were perfectly capable of handling themselves, he still got thrown out into the wolf den and was expected to enjoy it. In black robes of satin, Nicho skipped the part of the evening where all the slags of Hogwarts drew attention to themselves by descending the staircase. Instead, he jumped in one of the first carriages and headed to the ballroom in Hogsmeade with a very sour attitude and the hope that when he called in a favor from his mum (ie: wanting that new herbology kit that was only released last week) she wouldn’t argue too much. He found a set on a wooden bench along the wall and sat down, his expression one of boredom. Students and adults alike were filling up the ballroom after long, but it did nothing to elate his mood. Even seeing his little sister in her new, sapphire dress did nothing to budge the straight line of his lips. She was busy giggling around a blond bloke with glasses and purple robes. Pretty sure that he wasn’t interested in his sister, but making that judgment call would be very rude. He’d let her find out that her new love interest was gay all on her own. The only time that he showed any sign of awareness was when he caught the flash of blue robes and the mussed up hair of a familiar figure. He’d recognize the eyes behind the mask anywhere. Intense, deep blue eyes. Gareth. They hadn’t spoken since the incident in the common room with Axel and his gaggle of goons. In fact, Nicho had desperately tried to avoid him since. The soft, chaste kiss that Gareth had given him in gratitude had done something very strange to his insides that took a whole week to sort out. Now that he was staring straight at the other Slytherin, though, his stomach was knotted and fluttery again. But then there was a stabbing feeling in his chest. The crushing weight of disappointment as a very clumsy girl was grabbing Gareth by the lapels. Nicho’s eyebrows rose high on his forehead. He knew it would happen even before it did. The girl’s lips crashed onto his in the swiftest of movements. It only took a shocking second before he could see that Gareth was actually trying to push the girl away from him. Goddamn, Nicho thought while closing his eyes and shaking his head slightly, did he have some type of beacon on him that attracted the lunatics of Britain? He stood slowly, taking the time to brush off his robes before he took a few reluctant steps toward his fellow Slytherin. As he reached the scene, another body had turned up. A very red and shaking body. Nicho quickly sussed out that it was the boyfriend to the girl that had tried to attack Gareth with her bright red lips. “How dare you take advantage of my girl when you clearly see she’s drunk,” the bloke yelled at Gareth. And then the swinging began. Nicho sighed and took a hold of the drunk girl’s elbow, moving her quickly out of the line of fire. “That’s my girl.” The guy tried to take another swing, but Gareth was faster, ducking again and moving hastily out of the brute’s way. Nicho stepped around so that he was in between Gareth and his new mate, and planted a very sardonic smirk on his face. “Perhaps you didn’t notice, but your girl was missing from your arm for the better half of the last half hour,” Nicho spoke quietly, purposefully to be sure that the bloke’s voice would simmer down along with his. The response that Nicho received was a simple blink and then complete ignorance as the other boy looked back to his girl, who was waving at Gareth in a simpering, drunken manner. Nicho’s smirk raised a half inch. “It might be that you meant to thank my friend here, Gareth, by the way, for not taking advantage of your girl, and offer him your sincerest apologies for letting her obviously intoxicated self frolic through a ball with no supervision.” Bumbling apologies, the bully turned his attention back to the missus. Nicho watched them argue for a few moments before turning around to face Gareth, an amused twinkle in his eyes. “So. Your type has changed from tall, dark and handsome to short, blonde with breasts?” Nicho teased, his lips opening over his teeth. “I’d say you’ve lowered your standards, Twain.” |
| |
![]() |
|
| Gareth Twain | Oct 4 2010, 03:42 PM Post #3 |
![]() ![]()
|
Gareth was too busy ducking to notice the fact that the girl had suddenly disappeared from beside him. In fact, it wasn’t until her place suddenly got taken by a quite distinctive male body that Gare noticed someone was trying save him from getting pummeled by an irate boyfriend. And it wasn’t until he heard that voice that he realized who it was. Perhaps he should start hiring Nicholas as his personal bodyguard – the boy always conveniently seemed to be around whenever Gareth was getting molested. It was actually quite embarrassing, come to think of it – Nicho must think by now that Gare was some incompetent dweeb that couldn’t take care of himself. Still, the embarrassment didn’t stop the sudden heavy fluttering in his stomach and the rather sharp gasp escaping his lips. It had been nearly two weeks since that incident with Axel – nearly two weeks since Gare had had the insane impulse to kiss Nicho and had actually acted on that impulse. Nearly two weeks since he’d seen the other boy, and of course on the moment they met again, Gare had just been attacked by a pair of lips belonging to a lunatic girl and probably had lipstick smeared all over his face. Was it possible to drown oneself in a mug of butterbeer? Because the idea was certainly tempting at the moment. Breathing a sigh of relief when dementor-girl and boyfriend took their leave – the part where Nicho had called him his friend and the butterflies in his stomach had intensified by a tenfold hadn’t escaped his notice and this was already so far past a simple crush that it was ridiculous – he steeled himself for when Nicho would turn around and surely ask him if he was actually incapable of going somewhere without getting in trouble. And then Nicho turned around and Gare forgot for a moment what breathing was. So far past a simple crush it wasn’t only ridiculous but also pathetic. “So. Your type has changed from tall, dark and handsome to short, blonde with breasts?” Nicho teased, his lips opening over his teeth. “I’d say you’ve lowered your standards, Twain.” The sound of Nicho’s voice teasing him oddly enough shook him out of his stupor and brought him back to reality. “Well,” he started, voice a tad too hoarse for his liking, “You know what they say. Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it,” at least he still had the deadpan tone down to a tee. “Of course, now that I’ve tried it,” he continued dryly, “or to be more accurate, now that it has happened upon me, I feel the sudden and rather insane urge to drink bleach.” He stopped, turning to the front, his eyes looking for one of the barmen. “Lots of it.” He purposely ignored the part where Nicho had described himself as being Gareth’s type – tall, dark and handsome indeed. He had no idea. Making a sign at the barman, he splayed both his hands on top of the counter and leaned forward a little – the music was actually rather loud. “I’d like a glass of water. Please,” the barman took a look at him and Gare knew what he would say before he actually said it. “Hey, you’re aware you’ve got lip—“ “Yes, I am aware,” Gareth cut him off in a low growl, eyes flashing, “now get me that sodding glass of water.” Clanking a sickle on the counter as the barman brought it back, he turned back to Nicho, taking a handkerchief from the breast pocket of his tuxedo jacket. “You know, either I’ll have to think about starting every conversation with: Hey, I’m Gareth, I like cock, please don’t molest me,” he dunked the handkerchief in the glass of water and rubbed it over his mouth a couple of times, making his lips even plumper than normally, before making eye contact again, gaze darkly amused, “or think about hiring you as my bodyguard.” His face turned serious, gaze intense. “This is the second time. Three if you count the backing me up after our first conversation,” he swallowed thickly and looked down. “You must be sick and tired of me already.” Gare was still waiting for that – for the moment Nicho decided Gareth was nothing more but a bumbling idiot. For those entire two weeks, the other boy had been on his mind constantly – the way he had reacted with the Axel incident, the way he hadn’t thrown a fit after Gareth had kissed him, it had made Gareth hope this wasn’t just one-sided. That perhaps Nicho might be interested too. Of course, that had been before Nicho had been forced to save him once again – from a girl none the less. Gare normally never felt self-conscious. He definitely didn’t like the feeling now. He’d never know if he didn’t try, would he? With a determined expression, he removed his tie, opening the first few buttons of his shirt and shrugged his jacket and waistcoat of his shoulders, before hopping nimbly of the barstool. “So, tall dark and handsome. Do you dance as well as you save?” he extended his hand in invitation, only the slightly anxious glint in his gaze belying his extreme nervousness. “Or have you been gifted by two left feet and no sense of rhythm like Matti Shaunessy over there?” he nodded towards a bloke in forest green robes dancing spastically on the side, looking like he had seizures, much to the aggravation of people around him. Edited by Gareth Twain, Oct 4 2010, 03:44 PM.
|
| |
![]() |
|
| Nicholas Diederik | Oct 7 2010, 11:14 PM Post #4 |
![]() ![]()
|
Nicho couldn’t help but smile at the purely disgusted face that Gareth pulled. He looked caught between vomiting and punching something close by. Like he was force-fed something particularly repulsive. Which, in all fairness, the girl’s lips probably hadn’t been invited onto his. Nicho’s smile widened. He loved irony. As Gareth ordered his water, Nicho slid into a seat next to the handsomely dressed Slytherin and leaned against the bar, staring out at the crowd that was beginning to dance. Paired off; dresses and suits or robes. Occasionally, he would see an odd pair of blokes or girls holding each other as they flitted around on the dance floor. A student by the name of Matti Shaunessy was flailing in an arrhythmic dance to the otherwise mellow music. Nicho watched on, embarrassed for the poor chap who was repelling any sort of partner from encroaching on his very intimate looking dance. Of course, Nicho had to admit, he wasn’t one for dancing, only having been given the theory by his grandfather when he was seven or eight years old. He’d refused to practice with his sisters. It always seemed so icky. Plus, he never danced at these things anyway. “You know, either I’ll have to think about starting a conversation with: Hey, I’m Gareth, I like cock, please don’t molest me, or think about hiring you as my bodyguard. This is the second time. Three if you count the backing me up after our first conversation. You must be sick and tired of me already.” Nicho could feel his face heat up under Gareth’s suddenly intense gaze. He hadn’t meant to always be around the corner when peril struck the other boy. But, since he was, he couldn’t very well have sat still and allowed him to come to harm. For whatever reason. Nicho’s eyes fell to his shiny black shoes. “I’m not,” he said decidedly. His shoulders shrugged with a tiny chuckle leaving his throat. He should have been; for anyone else, he would have been. But he was undeniably attracted to Gareth. He’d spent a lot of time thinking about him, imagining what it might be like to spend time with him under normal circumstances. It was only a hunch, but he thought it might be rather… nice. The second that he lifted his eyes to Gareth, he regretted it. The other boy was removing his tie, and showing off the very appealing slice of body underneath his fancy shirt. Nicho swallowed thickly and tried to pry his eyes away from Gareth’s chest. It was inappropriate. At best. “So, tall dark and handsome.” Nicho’s face flushed deeper; that wasn’t exactly what he meant. “Do you dance as well as you save?” He really didn’t. And he didn’t want to try and prove himself right, either. “Or have you been gifted by two left feet and no sense of rhythm like Matti Shaunessy over there?” Clearing his throat, which suddenly felt very constricted, Nicho tried furiously to keep his shock and slight fear from appearing on his face. In a choked reply, he lost the control he usually had over his low voice. “I can’t dance.” His eyes flitted briefly to the couples all swaying to and fro. Some of them had grace, while others were well off the mark. He put those mental bastards down as intoxicated. Nicho was neither mental nor intoxicated. But when he glanced back to Gareth and the slight nervousness that seemed to flutter straight from the boy’s very image, Nicho bit back the insecurity that he felt. “But, I suppose if you don’t mind having your feet demolished, I can give it a good go.” Nicho stood up from his chair and held out his hand to Gareth. When their hands met, Nicho knew that he had made the right decision, despite the odd twisting around that his stomach was doing. There was heat at his hands, radiating all throughout his body. It was… strange, but welcome. He squeezed Gareth’s hand in a “you’re going to have to lead me out there and force me to do this” kind of way. Shrugging his shoulders, Nicho’s low voice held a hint of flirtation. “At least this is supposed to be a masque. Can’t imagine you’ll want people knowing who the tall, dark and handsome, uncoordinated and annihilating bloke is that you settled for tonight.” Edited by Nicholas Diederik, Oct 7 2010, 11:16 PM.
|
| |
![]() |
|
| Gareth Twain | Oct 8 2010, 03:29 PM Post #5 |
![]() ![]()
|
Of all the reactions Gare had been expecting, the sudden shock and fear, combined with a flush growing on Nicho’s cheeks had been somewhere on the bottom of that list. And when Nicho choked out that he couldn’t dance in a voice slightly more high-pitched than his normal tone, Gare couldn’t help but find everything about the other boy incredibly endearing. It also made him feel slightly less self-conscious, but that was just an added bonus in the end. He was about to pull back his hand, though, say that it was fine, they could do something else – despite feeling rather disappointed – when Nicho spoke up again. “But, I suppose if you don’t mind having your feet demolished, I can give it a good go.” Gare’s smile was sudden and bright, his fingers wrapping around Nicho’s as the other boy took his hand. “I think I’m willing to take that risk,” he shot back, the nervousness fleeing his mind, being replaced with an entire different sort of tension – one that had everything to do with the warmth of Nicho’s hand in his and the prospect of getting to dance with the boy he’d been infatuated with ever since the Axel incident. He could face a couple of bruised toes for that opportunity. He would have to thank Jace for pestering him into coming to this event later. “At least this is supposed to be a masque. Can’t imagine you’ll want people knowing who the tall, dark and handsome, uncoordinated and annihilating bloke is that you settled for tonight.” Gare chuckled and tilted his head to the side, tugging Nicho a tad bit closer. “Perhaps,” he said warmly, tone also slightly flirty “but that would be entirely for a ‘want him all for myself’ than a ‘too embarrassed to be seen with him’ reason. Otherwise I wouldn’t mind at all,” his gaze turned suggestive for a brief second, before he turned and pulled Nicho with him onto the dance floor. They were definitely not the only people on the dance floor – this particular Weird Sister’s song that was currently playing was quite a popular slow dance – but Gare paid them no attention what so ever. Facing Nicho again, he grinned and twined their fingers together, putting Nicho’s other hand on his shoulder and placing his other hand on Nicho’s waist, pulling the other boy closer. So close, in fact, that Gare could see there was a hint of blue in Nicho’s green eyes and that tall, dark and handsome was nowhere near good or conclusive enough to describe him. Gare wondered since when Hallmark had suddenly decided to take over his mind. “So, dancing,” he said in a low, gravel tone, “is easy as pie. And don’t worry about stepping on my toes. I can handle pretty much everything as long as it doesn’t involve accidentally kneeing me in the groin or making a light fixture fall upon my head,” Gare grinned, humour glinting in his eyes. “Just follow my lead.” Gare supposed he should be glad the song was fairly easy to dance to, the slow tempo not needing anything more than simply moving from side to side with their feet, because the proximity of the other boy was making him feel rather light headed. His closeness was intoxicating and Gare automatically gravitated closer to the warmth coming from Nicho’s body so they were almost dancing cheek to cheek and Gare tightened his hold on Nicho’s waist slightly. Despite all of that, Gareth felt comfortable. The self-consciousness from before had made way for contentment and although the butterflies and mild arousal were making him hyper sensitive to anything Nicho did – the warm puffs of air on his cheek everytime Nicho breathed out, the hand on his shoulder and their tangled fingers – Gare simply enjoyed the moment, bowing his head slightly and letting a small sigh escape his lips. The only other person he’d ever felt so relaxed with was Jace. There was no doubt about the fact that Gare would definitely not mind more than simply friendship – although he’d take what he could get. He’d had his fair share of boyfriends and flings, but none of them, as cliché as it might sound, had ever made him feel like he felt right now – and that despite not really knowing anything about him except that he was gay, intelligent and ridiculously attractive. Gare simply liked being around him. “I think you’re a natural,” he intoned in a low, amused voice, “you haven’t stepped on my toes once. You’ll see, we’ll be waltzing before you know it. Surprise everyone with your prowess on the dance floor,” he pulled back a little to look Nicho in the eyes, teasing smile on his lips. “And afterwards, we can upgrade to Latin dances. What do you say?” They’d stopped moving somehow, eyes still locked and Gare, probably spurred on by the feel of the moment and his own light-headedness, blurted out, “You know, I really want to kiss you right now.” And at once, the nervousness returned, combined with the want to kick himself in the butt. Where was that time-turner when you needed one? Or the duct tape? Edited by Gareth Twain, Oct 8 2010, 03:44 PM.
|
| |
![]() |
|
| Nicholas Diederik | Oct 9 2010, 12:06 AM Post #6 |
![]() ![]()
|
“Perhaps, but that would be entirely for a ‘want him all for myself’ than a ‘too embarrassed to be seen with him’ reason. Otherwise, I wouldn’t mind at all.” Nicho wasn’t the blushing type, but he found himself turning red easily under Gareth’s heavy compliments. He’d been with a couple of boyfriends, but never many intimately, and never any who cared to display their affections in public. Holding Gareth’s hand, being in such close proximity, it was all making his brain foggy. Indecipherable. He didn’t even try to dig his heels into the shiny, brown floor as Gareth pulled him out to the dance floor. Gliding easily behind, Nicho watched as people moved aside and created a small place for them. It must have been some etiquette that he wasn’t aware of; make room for the newbies. Or, ‘that one looks shifty, bet he dances worse than Shaunessy.’ The places that Gareth moved his hands flew through his mind, absorbing it for some time in the future that he might need it again, though he sincerely hoped that wasn’t the case. He was making an exception for Gareth. One of many he’d made over the course of the last month. With their bodies pressed close together, Nicho was beginning to understand that reason with more clarity. “So, dancing,” Gareth said in a low, gravel tone, “is easy as pie. And don’t worry about stepping on my toes. I can handle pretty much everything as long as it doesn’t involve accidentally kneeing me in the groin or making a light fixture fall upon my head. Just follow my lead.” The thought that somehow, in some freak accident, Nicho could cause a chandelier to fall from the ceiling and onto Gareth’s head created a knot of anxiety in his stomach. His heart did some strange flouncy dance in his chest, wild and fierce, thudding loudly in his ears. Their eyes were only a short distance apart and that mean that there were other, more kissable, parts of them that were so, so close. Nicho closed his eyes slowly before swallowing thickly and opening them again. Everything about the moment was intimate. The way that Gareth’s hold on him tightened, the way that Nicho returned the pressure by squeezing their hands. The short gasps of breath that were so quiet that only the pair of them could possibly hear them. The comfort in the way that they were swaying. So calming, so distracting. So nice. “I think you’re a natural. You haven’t stepped on my toes once. You’ll see, we’ll be waltzing before you know it. Surprise everyone with your prowess on the dance floor. And afterwards, we can upgrade to Latin dances. What do you say?” Nicho let a breath of a chuckle out against Gareth’s cheek. Even though Gareth couldn’t see it, he rolled his eyes in a playful, exaggerated way. As he moved his face back, he realized that their movements had stopped. He felt the back of his neck grow hot. Probably sweaty. There was something dangling between the two of them as their eyes met. It was… penetrating. “You know, I really want to kiss you right now.” The last week he had spent hiding from Gareth, being sure not to be in the same vicinity as he, avoiding any contact at all because of his awkwardness following the chaste kiss in the common room, flew out of his mind and was replaced with understanding. He knew what Gareth was feeling in that moment; he felt it, too. Pulling his lips into his mouth, he wet them and then let them rise in a small, nervous smile. He let go of Gareth’s hand, rather reluctantly, and placed it on the side of his face. A beat passed where his eyes dropped to his lips and then the hand on Gareth’s shoulder moved to the back of his neck. Pulling him in while meeting him halfway, Nicho’s entire body felt encapsulated in elation as their lips touched in the most sensual of ways. Slowly, he moved his lips over the other boy’s and with every passing moment, his hold on him tightened more. His tongue grazed Gareth’s lips gently, effortlessly attaining permission to deepen the kiss. Searing warmth spread through his body, traveling every nerve and causing bursts of tingles everywhere. It was a soft kiss, but that didn’t stunt its intensity. In fact, if it went on much longer, Nicho was going to have a rather sizable problem. A problem that was making its arousal known quite clearly. Pulling away from the kiss, he loosened his grip on Gareth and took a shaky step back. Running a hand through his hair to push the rogue strands back into their place, Nicho took a deep breath and kept his eyes on Gareth. Words eluded him completely. |
| |
![]() |
|
| Gareth Twain | Oct 9 2010, 07:44 PM Post #7 |
![]() ![]()
|
Gareth was so busy kicking himself mentally that he didn’t see Nicho’s look of understanding or the small, nervous smile. When Nicho released his hand, Gare was almost certain he’d messed it all up – too quick, too soon and all that jazz. When he felt a hand on his face, though, and looked into Nicho’s eyes, he realized that the other boy wasn’t planning on walking away – not if the hand on the nape of his neck was any indication. Breath speeding up, his eyes fluttered shut and a stab of anticipation travelled through his body and settled in the pit of his stomach. And then their lips met. Gare shivered despite the warmth, the shiver running down his spine as his arm tightened around Nicho’s waist and his the fingers of his other hand carded through Nicho’s hair. A soft noise of elation left his throat as he tilted his head a little, their lips moving slowly over each other and Gare felt warm, comfortable, happy and definitely aroused – something that almost became a problem as Nicho deepened the kiss, since the tux wouldn’t really hide anything. Gare had to bite back a groan, his fingers tightening slightly in Nicho’s hair. This was way beyond everything he could’ve imagined and the kiss could hardly be called a passionate one. Just the taste of Nicho on his lips and his intoxicating scent and how every slide of his lips and tongue set his nerves on fire. Just as well Nicho broke the kiss, otherwise Gare would’ve done something rather inappropriate on the middle of the dance floor. And he was quite sure this music didn’t call for any sort of grinding. That didn’t stop him from feeling disappointed of its ending – his body following Nicho as he pulled back to prolong it just a little more. Slowly licking his lips, he opened his eyes and was met with Nicho’s own wide-eyed gaze. He tried to find something to say that wasn’t overly cheesy or entirely inadequate, but found that he couldn’t. His usual quick wit and sarcasm had abandoned him completely, leaving his mind filled with thoughts like ‘that was amazing’ and ‘fuck, I want to do that again.’ In the end, he let his lips quirk up into a small smile, taking Nicho’s hand in his again and pulling him close. Resume dancing. Only now, every inch of Gareth was pressed up against Nicho, his lips very lightly brushing the skin underneath Nicho’s ear. The song had changed into a guy singing about how a man would spend every last dime on a woman he loved – Gare faintly recognized it as Percy Sledge, but his mind was kind of muddled at the moment. Everything about Gareth was a mix of contradictions right then. He was feeling light-headed while his stomach was clenching and fluttering heavily, feeling warm while shivers were running down his spine, heart thumping like mad while he actually felt more relaxed than he’d ever felt, feeling like laughing while there was a lump currently constricting his throat. Gare had never felt like this before – not to this extent anyway. It wasn’t just arousal. Not by a long shot. Expertly moving them towards the edge of the dance floor – those dance courses his mother sent him to every summer finally being useful for something after all – he finally pulled them off the dance floor, pressing his back against one of the columns separating the seating are from the dancing area, theirs being one on the far side – more secluded. Pulling Nicho against him, he took off his mask and lightly eased the mask of Nicho’s face too, fingers drawing through his hair slowly. There was no way Nicho couldn’t feel how affected Gareth was by him right now – as said before, the tuxedo didn’t really hide a lot, not like robes might have done – but it didn’t matter. All that really mattered was getting the boy’s lips on his again. Hands coming to rest on either side of Nicho’s face, thumb stroking his cheekbone, he said in a low tone, “Some say the second kiss is supposed to be the best one,” a cheeky smile came across his features. “Let’s prove them right, shall we?” And with that, he pushed his lips against Nicho’s again, the kiss a little harder, a little dirtier than the last one as Gare licked Nicho’s bottom lip and bit on it lightly, deepening the kiss almost immediately, one of his hands travelling down Nicho’s side. One of the biggest cons of robes, according to Gareth, was that there was no opportunity for him to slip his hands underneath and feel skin. Not like with a shirt. Huffing in frustration, he simply wrapped his arm around Nicho’s waist again and pulled him closer – despite not being able to feel skin under his fingertips lower than Nicho’s face and neck, he felt perfectly content in just kissing. Just this. And perhaps something else too. Pulling back only a little, their lips still practically touching, he asked in a rather breathless voice, “Do you have any plans for tomorrow? Because I thought we could perhaps simply hang out. Without anyone molesting me and you having to jump in and save me.” He pressed a soft, close-lipped kiss to Nicho’s mouth. “I like you. And I’d like to get to know you.” Edited by Gareth Twain, Oct 9 2010, 07:44 PM.
|
| |
![]() |
|
| Nicholas Diederik | Oct 14 2010, 08:10 PM Post #8 |
![]() ![]()
|
Nicho had always known that he preferred men over women. He never understood why he was that way, not until resuming the dance with Gareth. Because this was comfortable and warm and nice. Having this type of strength hold him, make him feel like the only person in the entire ball. This was the reason that he preferred men. Gareth. Somewhere along the way, after saving him from several close encounters with uncouth people, he'd developed feelings. Attachment. Protectiveness. Desire. Snuggling his head onto Gareth like a contented kitten, Nicho listened to the steady thrumming of the music and his dance partner's breathing. It could have lulled him to sleep, had he not felt so invigorated from their first kiss. He kept the slow pace with Gareth, his eyes closed as the rhythm of the song filled him. It didn’t even occur to him that they were moving away from the center of the dance floor until Gareth had broken the dance and perched them against a column. That was when his senses were brought back. Gareth’s cologne was still fiddling terribly with his mind, creating an atmosphere of security and familiarity, but Nicho was more aware then. He knew what was happening. The feelings were more apparent. The dependence on someone for affection. He wanted it. He craved it. Which made it even worse when Gareth was removing his mask and hovering close to his lips. The sensual bliss that coursed through Nicho as he stroked his face was unrivaled to any other emotion that Nicho had felt in his life. “Some say the second kiss is supposed to be the best one. Let’s prove them right, shall we?” Even as his brain processed what would happen next, having Gareth’s lips crashing into his still surprised him. It’d been far too long since he’d felt this type of contact, having pushed himself away from people over the last few months. Everything was moving faster all of a sudden; hands groping, breathing harder, palpitations, swifter movements, harder things… Nicho’s head was spinning. Relief came as Gareth’s lips left his fractionally. “Do you have any plans for tomorrow? Because I thought we could perhaps simply hang out. Without anyone molesting me and you having to jump in and save me.” Nicho swallowed thickly. A date? “I like you. And I’d like to get to know you.” He nodded, simply because he couldn’t form any words. Eyes flicking over Gareth’s features, he felt his stomach clench and unclench. He felt all… funny. Enchanted. As his lips began to curve upward, he caught movement of a wispy dress and curly red hair. Hestia. He could tell that she had been crying; she never could hide it. Her fair skin blotched way too easily. “Tomorrow,” Nicho confirmed with a stiff nod of his head; the feelings from moments ago were winding down under the thought of his sister’s tears. He was both annoyed and relieved. On edge and completely enamored. Before leaving Gareth to defend himself, Nicho caught his hand and brought the back of it to his lips. With a tiny, debonair wink, he was off to follow his sister and make sure that whoever it was that caused her to cry was sufficiently punished. “G’night, Gareth.” The soft, Irish brogue rolled off his tongue as he finally took his leave. |
| |
![]() |
|
| 1 user reading this topic (1 Guest and 0 Anonymous) | |
![]() Join the millions that use us for their forum communities. Create your own forum today. Learn More · Register for Free |
|
| « Previous Topic · Halloween Masquerade Ball · Next Topic » |
| Track Topic · E-mail Topic |
8:42 PM Jul 10
|











8:42 PM Jul 10