A/N : this fic is inspired by the wonderful artworks of kaadiansmear :)))
Goddamn conformist…
Was all I could think as he pinned my arms up above my head, crushing me under his body against the chain link fence.
His urgent kisses plunging me deeper and deeper into sweet bliss and ravenous ecstasy.
It was cold out, but I hardly noticed. The only tell-tale sign was the billowing clouds of steam escaping explosively from between our faces in the mere milliseconds our lips parted, before melding together again. The frigid metal of the fence bit bitterly into my wrists where he was pinning them, pushing against them so hard I swear he was doing it to punish me.
To punish me for his own urges, for his own desires.
Fucking conformist.
Finally, he releases my wrists, only to attack my hips, lifting me off my feet shoving my back against the fence.
Pinned. Like a butterfly to a corkboard. He thickly groans my name into my ear, his hot breath sending shivers up and down my body.
I knot my fingers into his hair and yank, just how I know he likes me to.
Moaning his approval, he devours my lips, grinding menacingly against my pinned hips. I groan into his mouth wrapping my legs around his waist, enticing him closer. He complies, shifting his hands up, slowly caressing, as they wrap tightly around my torso, bracing me as he sinks us to the ground.
He lays me on the frozen ground, pulling back enough to peer down at me.
"What." I retort, more out of breath than I care to let him notice.
He opens his mouth as if about to say something, but then shuts it, lowering himself back down to catch my lips prisoner once more.
The frozen from the ground starts to seep into my spine, and I worm against him impatiently.
I feel his fingers clumsily fumble with my belt buckle, brushing against the bare skin peeking out from underneath my jacket sending involuntary convulsions through me.
I gasp at his ice cold touch and retaliate immediately, plunging both hands up under his jacket, tracing his toned, goddamn sexy, fucking Nazi conformist jock body. My ears are on fire, burning with the conflict surging through me.
I can't believe I'm doing this again. With HIM. The jockiest conformist on the fucking planet.
He gasps loudly, shuddering at my glacial fingers running along his deliciously fiery skin.
I smirk to myself relishing his reaction, he moans -nearly whimpers- my name and my triumph is quelled, smothered by a deep longing, to hear that voice -his voice- everyday endlessly, incanting my name, as if he needs it to breathe.
Fuck me...
I shove him back, straddling his lap and pushing my tongue in his mouth, desperate to taste where that voice emanates from. He sighs contentedly, melting into my sudden feverishness, hands roaming my body and hooking onto the waistband of my pants, tugging teasingly.
I lift my hips allowing him to tug my pants lower, giving him access to my rock hard erection. He gropes eagerly, rubbing up and down my length, eliciting moans from between my occupied lips as I writhe in time with his strokes.
I feel the pressure grow as I near climax, breaking apart from his lips panting, arching my back and thrusting into his hand.
He stops, and maneuvering me for access, deftly unbuttons his own jeans. I suck on his neck struggling against him painfully, groaning my impatience for release. I trail my fingers down his chest wrapping them around his shaft, and pump my hand slowly. I watch his face as I continue, his eyes closed, brow furrowed, moans and sighs pouring from his lips like a fountain,
"Mnnmm-ahh o-ohhhh F-firk-kle…"
His eyes snap open locking onto mine, sending a feeling of apprehension and excitement crashing through me, and he clutches at my hips, grinding our erections together, smashing his lips against mine. He lifts me off of him, yanking down my pants. I whimper eagerly into his mouth as wraps his hands over my thighs, hoisting me up to his hips.
I wrap my legs around him as he leans me against that goddamn chain link fence, and thrusts forward entering me.
I bite back a scream, letting out a small squeak despite my best efforts. He pushes his lips against mine in a long, tender kiss, as if trying to sooth the pain.
It does. I exhale gently as he begins moving slowly in and out, dragging out each thrust almost unbearably slowly.
I bite my lip shifting my hips, increasing the friction. He gets the hint and increases the speed. I moan claiming his lips and yanking on his hair. I pull harder and he groans thrusting deeper.
"Mmmhhhnn h-harder- ah!" I gasp, he obeys, panting hard in my ear.
I throw my head back moaning loudly as I climax, and he presses his lips to my neck trailing kisses slowly up past my jawline to meet my lips. I limply hang from his shoulders as he whispers my name gently, holding me close. I let him, basking in the afterglow for several minutes before pulling back. He meets my eyes with half lidded, glazed over ones, a ridiculous grin stretching across his dumb jock face.
Why does he ALWAYS make that stupid fucking face!
I scowl squirming out of his grasp till my feet touch the ground.
Why does he have to be so fucking tall!
I bend down grabbing at my pants, shoving my naked leg back into its proper hole, and then yanking them up around my hips. I cast my eyes around looking for my missing shoe, and he catches my eye.
"Sorry," he mumbles, standing there rubbing the back of his neck, looking real sorry for himself.
"What for?" I bark, trying to hide my curiosity.
What the hell does he have to be sorry about? Making that face?
I spot my shoe some yards behind him and his eyes follow me as I trudge to it, stomping it back onto my socked foot.
My curiosity has gotten the better of me and I turn to face him with an expectant look.
"What are you sorry for?"
His eyes widen momentarily, as if shocked I even had to ask, then fall to gaze at the ground by his feet.
"Sorry for dragging you out here, for – for making you do… this…" he blushes furiously and runs a shaky hand through his ebony, cheek length waves.
I stare at him.
Did he just apologize for making me do this?
I snort derisively.
"You don't make me do anything I don't want to - in fact: NO-ONE fucking makes me do anything I don't want to,"
I start, feeling heat rush to my cheeks, becoming infuriated at his assumption.
His eyes dart between me and the ground, blush deepening.
"Or maybe you're just thinking you're special?"
Yeah that's it Firkle, make him feel small just so you won't.
I swallow the guilt that rises like bile, only to vomit venom.
"I could be fucking the entire football team for all you know."
He looks at me, bewilderment and hurt written plainly all over his features.
"a-are you?" he asks, afraid of the answer.
What the fuck am I even saying?
I let out an exasperated breath, more aimed at myself then at his inquiry.
"Wouldn't you like to know." I say hiding behind the coldest death glare I can muster, becoming overwhelmed by this conversation, by my own conflicting emotions. I feel like I may burst into tears if he says another word.
Fuck. Why am I so fucking in love with him? Why does it have to be him!
He looks at me, mouth opening and closing, eyes darting around as if trying to pluck the reply I wanted to hear from thin air.
I can't look at him a second longer. I shut my eyes, forcing back the threat of tears by shaking my head.
"You don't know anything about me." I hiss coldly, quickly striding in the direction of the school behind him.
His shoulders slump and he lets out his breath as if someone had punched it out of him.
"I don't…" he begins as I pass him.
He whirls around, grabbing my arm and yanking on it, forcing me to turn around and look at him. I gasp in pain, eyes widening in surprise.
"That's just it Firkle!" he yells, grabbing both of my shoulders, hard. I flinch, despite myself.
"I don't know anything about you! You never… its… its always this, and then you leave!" He says, despair staining his voice. I blink up at him dumbfounded.
"You never say anything to me, I have no idea what you even think of me!" he clenches his teeth, raking a hand furiously through his hair yanking it out of his eyes.
"All I know is that you don't tell me to stop. You kiss me back, you… touch me back, and you, you let me touch you…" he says voice barely a whisper, tears welling up in his eyes. I continue to stare at him, stunned, unable to comprehend this desperate side of him.
He sniffles slamming his eyes shut "Goddamn it Firkle, I… I fucking love you so much," his voice cracks and he covers his face with one hand.
My mouth falls open.
He…
He drops his hand meeting my shocked eyes with tear-filled ones.
"If you hate me, please, just-" he pauses, taking in a shaky breath.
"Just tell me you hate me. I can't take this anymore... I can't- I can't concentrate on anything anymore. All I think about is you. What you're thinking, trying to find an excuse to touch you, be close to you, talk to you, I- I can't fucking take this anymore!" he clenches my shoulders frantically.
"If you hate me why do you let me touch you? Why do you kiss me like that, like you lo-" he chokes on the word, his head sinking miserably.
"…getting my hopes up that maybe… maybe, you feel the same…" he tells the ground in a whisper.
He… loves…
I blink unable to process all of this.
He exhales sharply and crushes me to his chest, wrapping his arms around me like I'm the only thing keeping him anchored to reality.
"Firkle… I love you. Please, just… tell me- I don't know what you want…" he rasps.
He loves you, you fucking idiot.
Realization smashes into me like a freight train, my perception is shattered and everything he's done or said to me since we started this is bathed in a completely new light.
My eyes sting as joy overwhelms me, spilling out of the corners of my eyes. I reach up clutching onto his jacket.
"Ike, you idiot. I love you too."