Across the bed, as they usually did.
[Thin wrists]
With poor, confused Peter, how much fun would it be to test that boy out, to see what he likes, what he can and cannot handle.
Vyv being baffled when Peter cries after their first time, because it feels so good and so wrong. He is deeply ashamed and frightened this might push his lover away.
Virgin. Little virgin. Awkward Catholic virgin Peter.
They are reclining on the bed, Vyv is watching Peter, who has tears in his eyes, blush staining his cheeks and he doesn't know what to say.
He's never been taught that sex or sexuality is shameful, so he just cups Peter's damp cheek in his hand and strokes his face.
Peter thinks of his sin. Can't sleep. Before Vyvian, he was hit on by men. He was kissed, but never went so far. That's why… when Vyv tries to initiate something, Peter pulls away.
And Vyv gets annoyed, asks what's wrong, and Peter can't say, can't admit that he feels wrong and dirty.
But what happened had happened.
Despite his self-condemnation, he cannot help but feel it, this strange warmth
Peter is ready to say his name
When later ... [when he takes his rosary]
thinking of every touch of Vyvian's hands [Each bead of the rosary]
[HAIL MARY]
[He whispers "Vyvian" at each bead]
When they're making love, Vyv will whisper "what's my name?"
and with each thrust
[SAY MY NAME]
Peter moans out "Vyv"
"Vyvian"
That voice, that soft voice, breathy, full of pure need is saying his name and he can't handle how desperate Peter is how his voice is full of wings…
Later, outstretched and
Peter asks: What does your name mean, Vyvian?
And Vyv tells him, holding the tender boy in his arms.
Twisting a curl on his finger, Peter's face hiding in his armpit, smelling him…
What does it mean... "Vivere" means "to live" I am the life itself.
Peter breathes heavily. The meaning of the word is too much.
He almost purrs, almost cries again. Vyvian notices that. Peter's sensitivity amuses him, he strokes the boy with his own name. Saying it out. He rarely says it. He omits the name, or says "you, fool, fucker", but never "Peter".
Now the names mean a lot and Peter hears his.
"You want to know what yours means, too?"
The boy doesn't answer. Cuddles in, presses against him. Then nods.
"Your name...It's hard. It's can be cold. It can be hot when the light shines on it. It comes in many colours.
People get used to it easily. And stop noticing it. But only few can see it's true value. When polished it might reveal a gem.
"Rock? My name means ...a rock?"
"Upon this rock I will build my Church"
"Indeed, my friend".
"And here I am, his first, his first disciple", Peter thinks. His mind sinks into the blissful pool.
His name, the name of the apostle. His mentor and his love who is the life.
He doesn't know what to do with this new discovery. How to deal with it?
But It's there. He drowns in it. His orgasm after spanking and the magic of the name, the epiphany, all put together were hard to bear. What could he do? Laugh, cry, confess,
Or... Maybe," He thought to himself.
"I'll save it. I'll keep the feeling, like a cloth. It's my shroud of Turin. My holy item.
I must write it down...later. Vyvian hates my scribblings… Better not do it in front of him."