The name's Jack. Jack Smack, Jack Leopard... Jack the Ripper maybe, if you catch me on a bad day. My real name is Japa, but that doesn't really concern you. If you want to live, you will call me Jack.
I am not a nice guy. My friends are not nice guys. We're the type that make you cringe when you pass us on the street, the type your parents warned you about. So why am I even spending time to tell you about myself? It seems sortof out of character, doesn't it? Well, it is out of character. I've been doing a lot of things lately that are out of character. For one, I'm in love. Can you believe that? Me? Jack? In love? Me either.
Christus used to be like me. He used to spend all his money on the next hit, the next fuck. Sometimes he made his money by being someone else's next fuck. But that all changed when his daughter was born. When he saw that little girl and knew that she was a part of him, and that she was depending on him, he cleaned up. Cold turkey. Checked himself into rehab. Since then, he hasn't even taken a single glance back at the old life. Well, with the exception of me. The doctors at the rehab clinic told him to cut his ties with everyone who lived the old life. And he did. Except for me. Somehow Christus kept calling, kept wanting to see me, until one day it dawned on me - I love him, and he loves me; we're in love. The two of us had just been too drunk, too high, or maybe too stupid to figure it out before now.
I know he's realized how he feels by now. Probably beats himself up over it daily, knowing Kristian. And I know he knows that I feel the same. I also know that he is ashamed of me. He never lets me near his baby girl, won't be seen with me in public, won't even kiss me in private. He just can't bear to be without me in his life. So here I am, outside his door, uninvited. This time we're going to talk about it. Before now it was unspoken, but not anymore. This moment will change everything.
A half-smoked cigarette dangles from my lips as I pull out a pair of sunglasses and place them on my face, wanting to hide my eyes. It's better if he doesn't see that old Jack's been crying; I don't want his pity, I don't want anyone's pity. I adjust them a little before deciding that there is no better time than the present and knocking hesitantly at the door with the knuckles of my fore and middle fingers. That wasn't loud enough; I know he won't hear it. Mentally shaking myself, I knock a little harder this time.
"Just a second!"
I smile at the sound of his voice from inside, hearing him scuffle around on his way to the door. It doesn't take long for him to open it, but to me, it's a century. I'm nervous. Going over everything I want to say to him in my head, knowing it's not too late to leave and wondering if I should just bolt before I lose my chance. But the second that thought enters my head, the door opens, and there's Christus. From the looks of things, he was asleep. His hair's a little messy, and he only lets it get that way if he's sleeping. The rest of the time he's either got five thousand products in it or it's under a hat. He's wearing nothing but a pair of black boxers and a Negative t-shirt. Promoting his own band, how cute. Nah, it was probably just the first clean thing he could find.
He appears surprised to see me, and does something he's never done before. He steps outside and closes the door behind him; he doesn't want me to come inside. At this realization, I feel all sorts of nasty comments rising up in my throat, but I bite them back hard, tasting blood in my mouth.
"Japa, what are you doing here?" he asks me.
"Am I not allowed to see you now?" I reply, my voice filled with more bitterness and resentment than I'd like.
Christus sighs a little and runs a shaky hand through his hair, assumingly trying to think of how to answer that. After waiting a moment for him to speak, my patience grows thin, and I can wait no longer to ask the question that is on my mind. "Do you have someone over?"
He sighs again, obviously not wanting to answer that question. Dropping my cigarette and stamping it out with the toe of my boot, I take off my sunglasses and make him look at me, eyes narrowing to let him know I will not leave until I get an answer. When he finally does speak, his voice sounds very small, uncharacteristically so, as if he is afraid of my reaction. "My... girlfriend," he finally says.
A bitter little laugh makes its way out of my mouth, and I turn away from him for a moment. "Oh that's great Christus. You can let her around Camilla, but not me?"
Another sigh. Jesus, I must be a burden today. "Camilla's at her mother's."
"As if that makes it any better," I growl, my back turned to him. I don't want him to look at me. And if I look at him I might cry, which is something I refuse to do.
Good old Christus, he refuses to fight with me. Voice softened, he places a hand on my shoulder. "Jack, are you okay? We can go get a cup of coffee if you'd like."
"I don't drink coffee," I snap.
"You're not going to get me to go to the bar with you, if that's what you're wanting," he says firmly, his voice still not losing its edge of kindness. He just wants me to know he means business about this. "Japa, look at me. What's wrong?"
I love you, that's what's wrong. "Nothing," I reply, still refusing to turn around.
Now I've frustrated him. "Then what the hell, Japa? You show up at my door at a godforsaken hour of the night, get mad at me because I'm trying to find someone to love who can be a good example for Camilla, and now you won't even look at me! What is wrong with you?!"
Another laugh leaves my lips, one full of hurt. "And I can't be that example, right? Not Jack, who's snorted, smoked, and shot up everything in the book."
"What are you talking about?" he asks, trying to pretend he's confused, that he doesn't know just exactly what I mean.
I turn around, eyes flashing dangerously, focused directly at him. "Don't fucking pretend you don't know what I'm talking about Kristian. You know damn well what I mean."
He approaches me slowly, as if he's trying to calm a spooked animal, which I know may be the best thing to compare myself to at the moment. "You can't be that example Jack, not unless you're willing to clean up your act. I can't expose my daughter to that, and you know it."
"Fuck you!" I spit at him, shoving myself away from him, running down the street as fast as my legs can carry me. I don't stop until I reach an alley a few blocks down, tucking myself inside, into the darkness, lungs burning and fresh tears stinging my cheeks.
I fucked up. I know this. But I was hurt - I am hurt. I had every part of how our conversation was supposed to go worked out in my head, but he threw me a curveball. There wasn't supposed to be a girlfriend.
Defeated, I walk home, popping a few downers before tucking myself into bed, crying myself to sleep like the fucking pussy bastard I seem to be becoming.
When I wake up again, it's to a knocking at my door. I growl at the intrusion and pull my pillow over my head, refusing to answer the call. The knocking stops, so I assume it is safe to go back to sleep, but not thirty seconds later, someone is shaking me awake again.
"Come on Jack, wake up."
"Japa, come on, I want to talk."
Christus? How the hell did he get in? I take the pillow off my face and look at him. He laughs - apparently I was looking at him like he had the ability to walk through walls or something. "I still know how to pick a lock, you know," he tells me, tucking my hair behind my ear.
God, it shouldn't feel that good to have his hands in my hair. I shiver a little. "What time is it?"
"It's after four," Christus says, and my eyes dart to the clock, which confirms his statement - 4:17 p.m.. Jesus, I've been asleep for nearly fifteen hours. Not a record for me by any stretch of the imagination, but it's still a long time.
His hand moves lower on my neck and I shiver more, purring like a cat under his touch. "That feels good."
"I know," he whispers. A pause. "Are you mad at me, Japa?"
Not as long as you keep doing that. "No. Last night I was just... upset."
He pulls back the covers a little, and before I know it, he's crawled into the bed with me. I'm naked, but I don't really care about that. I don't think he's noticed. Mmm, he's warm. "I don't want you to be upset with me. I thought about what you said, Japa. I can't have you around my daughter, but that doesn't mean I don't want to be around you." I'm too busy snuggling up to him to answer, my naked skin being warmed by his body heat. "I love you, Japa."
A huge grin works its way across my face. "I know."
He laughs a little, nuzzling my cheek with his own. "You cocky bastard. Aren't you going to tell me you love me too?"
My turn to laugh. "Nope. Because you already know that I do, and telling you would give you wayyyyyyy too much satisfaction."
His lips find my neck, kissing the sensitive spots, making my eyes close at the feeling. "I broke up with the girl. I decided I'd much rather have you in my bed than someone I don't care about who I pretend is you."
This makes my grin turn into the most evil smirk of all time. That's not just a stroke for my ego, that's jerking it off. "Good. You're all mine, then?"
"All yours." His lips find mine, kissing softly at first, then more pressure. I feel his tongue licking at my bottom lip and my mouth opens, allowing him to explore it, rubbing my tongue against his. Heaven.
I feel him laugh against my lips a little and pull back, only then realizing that I was humping his leg slightly. "A little overeager, are we Jack?" he teases me. "That's alright, I knew you were naked when I got in here with you. I knew what I was getting myself into."
"I see," I reply, amused. "So you're the one seducing me, then?"
"Precisely," he grins, moving in for another kiss.
Thud. My body hits the floor. No fucking way! A dream?! GAHHHHHHHH!
Groaning, I pick myself up off the floor and crawl back into bed. Well, at least my dreams were pleasant. But they only made me realize how badly I want him, and that I'm never going to get him. If only things were that easy.
I look over at the clock and feel a strange shudder work its way through my body when I see the time - 4:17 p.m. Too weird for my liking, too coincidental. But I wait and wait, and the knock I'd been so expecting - so hoping for - never comes. By the time I look at the clock again, it's 4:45. Sighing, I roll out of bed, stretching, covering my eyes to block out the single ray of sunlight that is filtering in through the curtains.
By sheer coincidence, the flashing light on the answering machine catches my eye and I walk over to it. Normally I would never check it, and for all I know this message could be months old, but on a whim, I press the large grey button marked 'play'. An electronic voice tells me I have one new message, and that it was left today, at 7:23 a.m. Who in their right mind would call me at seven 'o clock in the fucking morning?! As soon as the thought enters my head, I hear Christus' recorded voice on the tape. He tells me he'd like me to meet him for lunch at noon at the café across the street. Oops, I missed that. I let out a little sigh, wondering how our conversation would have gone if I had made it. Not good, I'm sure. Not like my dream. It was probably a good thing I was asleep, then.
I am just about to walk away to head towards the bathroom for a nice long, hot shower when the phone rings. As if of its own accord, my hand reaches out, hits the 'answer' button, and holds the phone to my ear. "Yeah. What?" I ask into the receiver, sounding less than thrilled.
"J-Jack?... It's me... Christus." He sounds a little hesitant, as if he's wondering if he should have called or not.
Well of course it's you, jackass. Who else would it be? "Yes, I know."
"Listen, I called you this morning to see if you wanted to go out for lunch but I guess you were asleep, so I was calling to see if you wanted to make it dinner instead, in half an hour or so? I think we need to talk... about last night." The second part of his statement sounds strange - different - and it makes proverbial warning bells go off inside my head.
Talk? Say no, say no, say no, say no... "Sure, why not. Same place?"
"Yep. See you then."
I stare at the phone in my hand for a moment after I've hung up, my mind racing. Shit, what the fuck was I thinking? It's not too late to call him back and cancel, and I know this, but I'm afraid that would bring up too many questions. Questions I don't particularly want to answer, but can at least put off answering for another half hour.
Shrugging, I head for that shower, knowing I won't be able to take as long of one as I had hoped. I wash myself, have a quick wank, and then get out, not bothering to spend time messing with my hair. I just dry it and put a hat over it. After snorting a couple lines of coke in the living room, I have just enough time to throw on some clothes and apply a little bit of eyeliner before it's time for me to walk across the street and meet Christus.
I'm late as always, but only by five minutes or so. Through the dark lenses of my sunglasses I can see him sitting at a table in the corner, and half of me is screaming that it's not too late to get out of there, because he hasn't yet seen me. But I know that really, it is too late. It was too late the moment I showed up on his doorstep last night. Now he has questions, and I have to answer them. What have you gotten yourself into, Jackie Boy?
Figuring that it's better to just do this and get it over with, I head towards his table, my stomach in knots and my heart about to beat out of my chest.
"Kristian," I say as I approach the table at which Christus is sitting, calling out the more formal form of his name in an attempt to annoy him.
He doesn't even flinch. "Japa. I was afraid you weren't going to make it."
A deep little chuckle rises from my chest as I pull out the chair across from him and sit down. "You know me, I wouldn't be Jack if I wasn't late."
Laughing and nodding, his eyes look at me for a moment longer before going back to the menu, which he is studying intently, trying to decide what he wants to eat. I cross my arms over my chest and watch him, not bothering to look at the menu - I'm not really hungry; I snorted my meal. I'll order a bowl of soup or a salad to sate him, make him think my habit isn't as bad as it is, but even that I know I'll hardly touch. For now, I am content to watch him, not even trying to hide the fact that I am doing so.
"I'll be right back, I'm want to wash my hands before I eat." A lie with not much thought put into it. His eyes leave the menu to glance at me, and the look in them tells me he doesn't believe me, but I don't really care. I get up from the table and make my way to the men's room.
When I have reached the men's room, I look back at Christus for a moment - he isn't watching. Good. Checking to make sure that no one is inside, I enter, locking the door behind me. I take hold of my charm bracelet, unscrew one of the charms, and snort some of the coke inside. Ahh, bliss. I had started to come down, and did not want to sit through Twenty Questions With Christus without being high. Examining myself in the mirror, I am sure to wipe away any evidence of my little indulgance before exiting the bathroom, returning to the table, and sitting back down across from Christus.
"Your sudden interest in personal hygiene wouldn't have anything to do with your love for a certain drug, would it?" he asks me, not even bothering to look up from the menu. This time he is not reading it, he just wants me to think he is. He's using it as a tool of distraction to keep from looking at me.
"I don't know what you're talking about," I say, my voice the epitome of nonchalance as I finally take off my sunglasses and set them down on the table. I want him to see the cold steel in my eyes, make him think I don't care about his opinion of me, even though I do.
Seemingly irritated, his eyes flash with some kind of fierceness as he finally looks up at me. "Where are you hiding it, Jack?" He looks me over for a moment, his eyes finally settling on the bracelet around my wrist. A laugh leaves his throat. "A coke charm? How cute. I ordered you a bowl of soup, figured that's what you'd want to pretend to eat."
"I see. Why is it that you're still looking at the menu then?" Round one victory, Jack. Oh yes.
His brows furrow a little in frustration. "Do not play with me, Jack."
I just shrug my shoulders lazily, before reaching in my pocket for my cigarettes and lighter. I take one from the pack, placing it between my lips and lighting it, while at the same time trying to ignore the holes his eyes are trying to bore in me. "No need to get angry." I blow smoke at him after I've spoken the words, knowing a move like that is playing with fire.
To my surprise, he just sighs a little and plays with the straw in his glass of water, which the waitress apparently brought during my trip to the bathroom. "I'm only worried about you, Jack."
That angers me. "Why Christus? Why the fuck would you worry about me when you know damn well I can take care of myself?! What is it with this trend that as soon as someone else gets clean, they're suddenly 'worried about me'? You never gave a flying fuck before! So you, Kristian, can go straight to hell." Damn it Jack, watch that temper.
I notice that my outburst has alarmed some of the other patrons, but it doesn't even seem to affect Christus. He's sitting there with a completely blank expression, but he's shaking his head at me. "Like you said, no need to get angry."
Fucking bastard. "Is that why you called me? So that you could judge me and chew me out about how I need to get clean? Because if it is, let me just make this easier on the both of us and get up and leave right now." My tone is extremely calm and collected but my words bear a sharp edge, and I can tell by his expression that I managed to cut him a little with them.
"I called you because you showed up at my door at midnight last night and I am wondering why," he tells me. Just as he finishes speaking, the waitress brings our food - for me a bowl of soup, and some kind of green salad concoction for him.
I toy with my spoon in the bowl for a moment before I look back up at him. "So it's just simple curiousity, then?"
"Goddamnit Jack," he growls, clenching his teeth, his eyes closing in frustration. He sits like that for a few moments, breathing deeply, and I must admit I am rather amused at the effect I have on him. "You are so fucking infuriating sometimes. Would you just stop putting words in my mouth and have a conversation with me for once, like a normal human being?"
That makes me chuckle. "But I'm not a normal human being." I'm practically waving my cigarette in his face, and I'm just waiting for that fact to annoy him - he's trying to cut down.
"This is true," he agrees, finally digging into his salad, taking a well-sized bite.
I watch as he chews, not making a move to put a spoonful of soup anywhere near my mouth. "Kris, I think you know exactly why I stopped by your house last night. Whether you want to admit that you know or not is a completely different subject. But you know me - I'm complicated. If you can't figure it out on your own, you're probably shit out of luck, because I'm not going to spell it out for you. You're welcome to try, but I seriously doubt that you'll have any success." I take one last drag off my cigarette before stamping it out in the ashtray.
He seems to think about my words for a moment, waiting until he's finished with his bite of food to speak. "Let's say I do know why you stopped by. What good does that do us Jack? Does it help our relationship, or does it drive a bigger wedge between us? I'm not sure I want to know the answer to that."
"Well, I hope, at least, that it would help," I say, understanding his cryptic message.
"It won't. I've already told you last night that I can't go there. You just won't take no for an answer." His voice sounds very strange as he says the words, as if it pains him to even think them.
"You don't mean that," I offer hopefully.
This time he speaks with conviction. "I do."
I stand up quickly, the silverware on the table rattling as I do so. "Well enjoy your meal then. This friendship is over." And with that, I make my way out of the restaurant, ignoring the fact that Christus is calling my name behind me. Fuck him.
"Japa, will you please answer the phone?" Christus' voice begs from the answering machine. No. I won't.
Two weeks have passed since our little café incident, and since then he calls me every day, twice a day. Once at 2 p.m. and once at 10 p.m. The aforementioned call is his second of today, and it's right on time - 10:01 p.m. I never answer the phone, and I am starting to become more amused than annoyed with his calls. I hadn't thought he would be so persistant; hell, I hadn't even thought he cared that much. I am almost thinking of starting a betting pool with some of my friends to see how long this continues for. He's surprised me, to say the least. But that still doesn't mean I'm going to answer the phone. I'm still hurt, and I'm still as stubborn as ever.
Shrugging, I move to the kitchen and look through my cabinets for something edible. Nothing. I open the freezer and pull out a frozen dinner, popping the strange looking concoction into the microwave for the recommended four minutes. Frozen food. Dinner of champions. This is the first time in weeks I can actually recall eating a meal, frozen or not. Usually when I do eat, it's something as meager and pitiful as a bag of chips of a handfull of M&M's. But then again, this is the first time in weeks I haven't been on something. If it's not coke, it's speed, or pot, or just plain old booze. But never am I sober. I guess this just proves that I'm not addicted and that I can stop at anytime, I just have to want to. And I don't.
I am just sitting down in front of the TV with a beer and my frozen dinner when there is an unusually loud knock at my door. "Whatever you're selling, I've already got it or I don't want it. Go away!" I shout, bringing a forkfull of food to my mouth. Agh, it's hot!!! After successfully burning my mouth and unsuccessfully trying to cool the burn with a large gulp of beer, I realize that whoever was at my door is still there.
Angry now, I get up out of my chair and storm towards the door, tugging it open. "Don't you know the meaning of the words--" But I am cut off by a very hot, very demanding mouth being pressed against mine. Half-struggling to get away, I immediately stop when I recognize the eyes that are looking at me. Christus. Mmm. I eagerly kiss back, letting out a little grunt of disapproval when he suddenly pulls away, moving as far away from me as he can get, turning his back to me. So he *does* feel the same.
"You want to explain to me just what the hell that was about?" I ask, crossing my arms over my chest. "Not that I'm complaining." A satisfied little smirk makes its way across my lips as I watch him pacing.
He flinches a little, stopping mid-pace. "Jack, contrary to what you may believe, this is not amusing or funny in any way. So wipe the fucking smile off your face." His voice is bitter, angry, and I suppose he's starting to have some idea how I feel. But his statement does work - my smirk turns into a frown as I continue to watch him.
"So you burst into my home, kiss me, and now that's my fault?" I ask, raising an eyebrow.
"Japa," he says, his voice sounding strangely calm, to a point that it's almost scary. "It would suit you well to learn when to shut your fucking mouth."
I just shrug, reaching in my pocket for my cigarettes and offering one to him - which he takes without so much as a 'thank you'. I light his for him, placing one between my own lips and doing the same to it. "I thought I told you our friendship was over."
"Yeah, well apparently I listen about as well as you do, Jack," he replies, laughing a little as he takes a long, thoughtful drag off his cigarette.
Finally the question which has been bothering me makes its way out of my mouth without a second thought. "So what are you doing here?"
He sighs a little bit, cigarette smoke curling around him as he does so. It makes him look strange, almost ghostly. "I... missed you. You wouldn't answer the damn phone so I decided to try stopping by."
"You missed me?" I can't stop the amused chuckle from leaving my throat.
He doesn't respond, instead just looks around my apartment, eyes criticizing, which he should know by now won't get him anywhere with me. "Japa, you're a mess."
I scoff. "Actually, I'm just fine, thank you very much."
He gestures toward the frozen dinner on the table. "Frozen dinners? Come on, Jack. Let me take you out. Please?"
I run a hand through my stringy black hair, shaking my head. "No way. I need a shower. I'd have to get dressed... I just don't feel like leaving. You could order some takeout if you want, but I still want a shower before we eat."
He nods his head a little, knowing better than to argue - I have compromised, and it's best not to push things. "Okay. I'll order something."
"Alright, I'm going to go get that shower." I don't wait for his response before heading towards the bedroom. I know the bathroom is the only place I can really escape him, the only place I can really gather my thoughts - and besides, I really do need a shower.
I see my stash laying out on the bedside table and know that it's probably a good idea to hide it someplace if I still want it to be there tomorrow - Christus would find a way to get rid of it in a heartbeat. I consider getting high, but know that Christus would immediately know that I was not sober and would shut himself off and refuse to open up to me. As stubborn as I am, that's all I really want - to have a good conversation with him, and for both of us to admit our feelings for one another. After hiding my stash in the bottom of a drawer, I look around my room and make sure nothing else is out of place. Everything seems fine, so I head for the adjoining bathroom, stripping off my clothes in the process.
What the hell is he doing here? I wonder. Why did he kiss me? What is this? But somehow I find that I don't have the answers to any of those questions. I know that only Christus does, and the longer I avoid him, the less likely it is that he will give me honest answers for my questions. Turning on the water, I sigh, going back into the bedroom to put my cigarette out in the ashtray. I am definitely confused by Christus' presence, to say the least, but I am more confused by the brief kiss we shared, and how desperate he seemed to just touch me. Maybe I *could* clean up after all. It wouldn't be so bad... Okay, that's a lie. I'd never make it, and I know that. Especially if it was only a half-assed attempt. Which it would be.
Returning to the bathroom, I run a finger under the water and, finding myself satisfied with the temperature, I turn on the shower and step underneath the stream. The heat of the water feels good soaking into my naked skin, and for a moment I just close my eyes, lost in a daydream of another world where Christus and I could be together. But then my little daydream is interrupted by Christus' voice, telling me that he's ordered us some sushi. Sushi, that sounds wonderful! He's a mind reader.
The bathroom falls quiet again, and I assume that he has left, but am taken completely by surprise when I find myself pinned against the shower wall by a fully clothed Christus. His eyes are looking at me with such desire, such lust, and I find myself unable to stop from kissing him again, my hands starting to peel his wet clothes off of their own accord. His hands are all over me, and it feels so good, so right. I've wanted this for so long.
But then he's gone as quickly as he came, and I hear the bathroom door close behind him. I'm left leaning against the shower wall in shock, shaking my head and wondering what the fuck just happened. Jesus, he's really got to stop doing that!
I take a long shower, trying to avoid Christus for as long as I possibly can. I'm not really certain what mood he will be in, and to be honest I'm not quite sure that I want to find out. Wrapping a towel around my waist, I emerge from the bathroom, stopping dead in my tracks when I find him sitting on my bed, wearing my t-shirt and my boxers, his wet clothes in a pile on the floor.
"Juha, we need to talk."
I am shocked by his use of my real real name; I wasn't even aware he knew it, not many people do. "That's the understatement of a century," I laugh, walking over to my bedside table and grabbing a pack of cigarettes and my lighter, placing one between my lips.
"For once in your life, please try not to be a smartass, 'kay?" Christus says, appearing annoyed with me.
"I'll try, but I'm not making any promises." Still in my towel, I sit down on the bed next to him, crossing my arms over my chest. "And what is the subject of conversation, might I ask?"
"Jack... Fuck, sometimes I can't decide whether to kiss you or strangle you!" he says loudly, fists clenching.
"I'd prefer the first of the two opt--"
But I am cut off by an abrupt tackle to the bed by the quick movements of Christus, finding a very delicious-tasting tongue in my mouth. He's stolen my cigarette and stamped it out in the ashtray as we kiss, but there are no protests from me - I'm much too distracted. When he pulls away, he has a satisfied little grin on his face, giving me a look I don't quite understand until he speaks. "Well, at least I've found a way to shut you up, haven't I?"
"You could shut me up even more if your mouth went just a little bit lower," I can't resist informing him, wiggling my eyebrows a little.
He rolls his eyes at me, laying down on the bed next to me. "Yeah? You wish."
"Oh yes, I do," I grin, reaching for my cigarette, re-lighting it.
He examines my cigarette with narrowed eyes, shaking his head. "You should really cut down on those things. You're going to catch cancer."
That causes me to laugh heartily. "Christus, I don't think you can catch cancer."
"You know what I mean!" he says, snatching my cigarette. "Give me that." He puts it to his lips and takes a long drag, exhaling the smoke in the opposite direction. "I fucking hate you sometimes."
"Aww, Kris! I didn't know you cared!" I laugh, taking my cigarette back. "Give it back, before you 'catch cancer'."
He starts to laugh, shaking his head at me. "See? I've missed this. Just hanging out like this. We used to have such a good time together."
I nod, looking thoughtfully up at the ceiling. "We did, didn't we?"
He rolls over on his side, propping himself up on his elbow. "I want to have good times again. Will you please stop hating me, Jack?"
"I never hated you," I whisper, leaning over him to tap my cigarette in the ashtray.
He stares at me for a long time, those blue-green eyes staring deeply into my own. "You love me, don't you?"
"You already know," I tell him, looking away, my expression getting a little distant.
"I want to hear it, Japa," he says quietly, using his hands to make me look at him.
I pause for a moment. Should I really tell him?... Fuck it. "Yeah. I think I love you."
He takes my cigarette from me again, putting it out, then looking straight into my eyes, something in his expression nearly paralyzing me. "You know I want you Juha. I lie in bed at night thinking about you. You're constantly on my mind. But if I'm around you, if I'm around all this bullshit, I'm going to start doing it again, and I... I want to be a real father." He looks away for a long moment, then finally meets my eyes again. "Tell me what I should do."
I want to tell him to kiss me again, to forget about everything except the feeling of our lips and tongues tangling, but something stops me. "I... I don't know," I say honestly, not sure at all why I am denying myself the right to be with him.
"Neither do I," he says quietly, looking up at the ceiling as I did a few moments ago, studying it intently. "If things were less complicated, I would have been with you already, in a heartbeat. But they're not."
"What if I cut back?" I find myself asking.
"Jack, 'cutting back' isn't enough. One slip... One slip is all it takes, and I'm right back where I was before." He sounds so sad as he speaks, and I almost feel something inside me breaking.
I think for a long, long moment before I finally look up at him, not having found the solution to the conundrum we find ourselves in, but having an idea nonetheless. "Can we try?"
He just stares at me blankly. "What?"
"Can we try?" I repeat, flicking the ash from the end of my cigarette. "You never know exactly what will happen until you try. And I'm not stupid Kris. I'm not going to do drugs around you or bring them around Camilla; I know better. That's on my own time. Please give me a chance."
Abruptly my cigarette is snatched from me and stamped out in the ashtray again. My eyes narrow; this is getting annoying now. I open my mouth to protest but cut myself off - completely in shock - when I hear him say one word:
I had expected him to tell me I was stupid, that it could never work and that I needed to just leave him alone and fuck off. 'Okay' was not what I was expecting at all. "O..okay?" I ask, wanting to make sure that I heard clearly, that someone out there isn't trying to play some kind of cruel joke on me. I even have to surpress the urge to pinch myself and make sure I'm not asleep.
In typical Christus fashion, he ignores my misery, instead rolling over on his side to smile down at me. "Jack," he says, his tone suddenly changed, and I look over at him and immediately realize he's avoiding my eyes. Uh oh. What now? "My life would be so much easier if you weren't so damn beautiful."
I almost laugh as I try to get him to look at me, an amused smile on my face. "Uhm, I'm sorry?"
"Don't be a dick," he says, elbowing me sharply, hard enough to elicit a yelp from me - though it was more because I was startled than because I was hurt.
"Ow! That hurt!"
"It was supposed to," he grins at me. "Want me to kiss it better?"
I try to look as hurt and offended as humanly possible before responding. "Yes, actually."
There is a long, intense silence between us before he suddenly - desperately - crushes his lips to mine. I am tempted to chain him to the bed or something; I remember what's happened the last times he's kissed me. He's gotten me all riled up and then walked away. Not this time, Christus. But lucky for me - and him, maybe - he doesn't seem to want to go anywhere. He seems content to kiss me back, our tongues playing softly, my hands starting to explore his body, feeling the heat of his skin under the palms of my hands. He tastes so incredibly strong and masculine, yet there is something sweet and delicate about him at the same time, something I crave to taste on my tongue. I finally pull back for a moment, gasping for breath, using the opportunity to quickly pull off his shirt and toss it somewhere across the room - I don't particularly care where it's landed at the moment. Immediately, my fingers dance over the newly exposed skin as if of their own accord, eager to explore the firm expanses of his body. He's all muscle and bone and flesh and I find myself fighting the incredible urge to just tackle him to the bed and have my wicked way with him. But no, I'm going to enjoy this, I decide. If he wakes up in the morning and realizes how insane he is to give me this chance, then by god, I want to have memorized every inch of this delectable body of his.
Suddenly he does the most wonderful thing with his hips, pressing the hard-on I wasn't aware he had against my own rapidly growing arousal, and the action makes me gasp loudly against his lips. He laughs at me, enjoying my torment, enjoying how easily he breaks down my resolve. Cheeky bastard... But I don't have long to argue, as I soon feel my towel being tugged away from me and I can feel the heat of his scrutinizing gaze on my skin. He seems pleased with what he sees, and half-shoves me back to the bed, climbing on top of me. What the...? Now who said he got to be on top?! Again he silences me before I can speak, pressing our chests together, making me let out a little purr at the feeling of skin on skin. Okay, so maybe him being on top isn't so bad...
"Jack, tell me you want me," he pants, sounding desperate as his hands go for my hips, fingertips dancing over them so lightly that I almost don't register the action until it sends a delicious little shiver rippling through me.
"Of course I want you," I murmur, my fingers playing at the waistband of his boxers - which are actually my boxers - wanting more than anything to slide my hand inside and wrap around him, to feel the heat of him against my palm.
He bites at my bottom lip, a little rough, seeming to be even more turned on than I am. "Tell me."
"I want you, Christus. Please fuck me... Don't make me wait..."
That seems to be the answer he was looking for. He strips off what's left of his clothing, tossing it carelessly across the room much as I had done earlier, then pressing himself flush against my back, our body heat radianting between us. I can feel the hardness of him pressed against my ass, and it is a torment to have him so close, yet so far away. Now I find myself begging without him having to ask - something I never do. "Christus, please..."
He's sucking at the back of my neck - forming a nice bruise there, I'm sure - and I feel him press two fingers to my lips. Knowing what he wants me to do, I suck them into my mouth, my tongue swirling around the tips as deftly as if they were his cock, making quiet little moans around them just to tease him. After a moment, he withdraws his fingers from my mouth, and I feel his hand snaking down lower, lower.... Then the fingers are pressed to my entrance, first teasing the sensitive skin around it, then slowly starting to press inside, gentle, and not enough; I want something much more substantial. But as he slides the fingers all the way in and starts to move them around, I decide that even though it isn't quite what I want, maybe this isn't so bad after all, and I shut my eyes in appreciation of the feeling. "Mm, Christus."
He seems to enjoy my soft little moans and purrs more than anything, his fingers gaining a little more speed and skillfullness with each sound I make. Then he curls them over just the right spot and my entire body tenses a little, the most delicious feeling spreading all the way from my head to my toes, a loud groan leaving my lips. I hear him asking me if I'm ready for more and faintly feel myself nodding, needing something more now.
I can feel the head of him against my entrance, and I know he's teasing me. "Fuck me Christus..." I hear myself say, though it is not me speaking - my brain is off somewhere else altogether. My body has taken control of it, knowing what it needs, and that, at the moment, is Christus. I hear the sound of lube being squeezed into his hand and slicked over his cock and wonder when he discovered where I kept it - though I suppose the nightstand isn't a terribly difficult place to explore. Still, I sense that he has been planning this all along, but before I can comment on such things, he slowly starts to push himself inside and I can feel myself stretching around him. Impatient, I push back against him, sheathing him all the way inside me with one deft backwards thrust of my hips, a loud sound being ripped from both of us in chorus. There is a little power struggle, me trying to control our pace, and him wanting the same, but it makes things even more pleasurable, as some kind of aggression has taken over him because of it. When I finally do let him have control, he quickly moves us so that I'm on my back with my legs over his shoulders, wanting to get in deeper. His hips have started to gain a slow rhythm, and my eyes close against it, chewing at my bottom lip as he fucks me.
It is only now that I realize I've never really fully explored in my mind the possibility of sex with Christus. That is to say that I have never really imagined what it would be like; the things he would say - or if he would even say anything at all - the things he would do... I've never really pondered them. And I quickly discover that he enjoys me talking dirty to him, telling him how good it feels to be fucked by him, telling him to fuck me harder and faster, things which would make my own mother blush if she heard her son say them. That's fine by me, because I've always been very vocal, I've always found pleasure in telling my partner how much I enjoy the things they do to me and the things they make me feel.
Christus also teaches me that he has a small fetish for pain, things like having my nails scraped down his back, my teeth biting his neck, fingers pinching his nipples hard. I suppose they make him feel alive. I enjoy doing these things for him because the more I do, the more turned on he gets, and the harder he fucks me, and soon his pace is so rapid and hard that I fear he might just break my bed - I'm sure the neighbors can hear it squeaking, at least. He's become very good by now at finding my prostate and purposefully thrusts hard into it almost every time, increasing the volume of my cries tenfold. I can feel myself getting closer and closer to my peak and beg him to touch me, to give me any kind of friction on my cock, which I am dying for. Finally he relents and starts to stroke me - long, controlled jerks of his arm, flicking his wrist over the head, driving me insane.
My body feels like it's absolutely ablaze with pleasure now and I know my skin is flushed red because I can feel the heat radiating. A thin layer of sweat covers my body and his as well as we fuck and are fucked by each other, unabashed with our pleasured cries of one another's names. I can feel my orgasm building, and finally - suddenly almost - I reach it, crying out loudly as my back arches violently, my muscles tightening around him as I cover my stomach and chest with my seed. I can tell he's been holding back as much as he can, because that's all it takes to push him over the edge as well, and I watch him intently as his eyes close, his head is thrown back, and my name echoes loudly as I feel him emptying himself inside me.
He rides out his orgasm for a few moments longer before his hips slow to a stop, his eyes still remaining closed. My hands run up and down his sides and I can sense that there is no use for words, and any attempt to find a use for them would completely shatter the moment. Instead, I watch in silence as he pulls out of me and collapses to the bed, wrapping his arms around me, our chests rising and falling rapidly and in unison.
My lips find his and give them a little, chaste kiss - thanking him, in a way - my eyes communicating everything my mouth wants so desperately to say out loud. But no, I still know better. I observe him for a moment, tucking a strand of his hair behind his ear before resting my head against his chest, smiling as I hear the rapid "thump, thump, thump" of his heartbeat beneath my ear. I know that now is not the time to talk about this; now is the time to just enjoy being together, and we'll ask questions and have our regrets later. And as scared as I am of that, I still don't say a word. My eyes close, still listening to his heartbeat, which is finally starting to slow down a little. Eventually it lulls me almost to sleep, and finally I drift off with a genuine smile on my face for the first time in weeks. The rest we'll deal with in the morning.
~To Be Continued~