Title: Coming Home (dont know if this title has been used before. if so,
sorry!)
Author: Liatli
Disclaimer: not mine. I would love them, though. * wink wink, hint hint *
my birthday's in December.
A shirt was tossed over the back of the couch, followed by a pair of pants, another shirt, someone's beat-up Nike shoe. Muffled grunts and moans could be heard, but it was impossible to tell from whom they came. Lips were pressed together in heated urgency, bodies sliding together, slicked with sweat. A window was open and the room smelled of summer. Of heat, of freshly mowed grass, but with a faint, under-lying scent of arousal. The bodies on the couch were locked in a passionate embrace, oblivious to the world around them. Centered on only the fact that they were together. Alone. And they had all the time in the world. One sure hand reached down between their bodies, under the waistband of baby blue boxer-briefs. A few skillful strokes, and the boy was arching up, a muffled cry coming from his mouth, his face pressed into the other person's chest, as he came.
Colin awoke with a start, sitting up, a sheen of sweat covering his body. Not wanting to think about what that dream meant, he swiped at his forehead, then turned, swinging his feet over the side of the bed. Wincing slightly at the coldness of the hardwood floor, Colin walked into his bathroom and turned on the shower.
Dripping wet, Colin trudged over to the bureau in the corner of his room. He pulled out a pair of boxer-briefs. He glanced at them in mild surprise. They were baby blue. He hadn't grabbed those on purpose. Shrugging, Colin slipped into them. Colin glanced disdainfully at his bed. He would have to wash his sheets. Again. He knew his parents wouldn't say a word, but he saw the looks they exchanged when they thought he wasn't looking.
Grumbling to himself, Colin began to pull the sheets off his bed. This was the 4th time this week. Shaking his head, Colin tiptoed down stairs. A quick glance at the clock had affirmed that it was very early in the morning. 2:30, to be exact. And he didn't even have school the next day! Colin stuffed the sheets into the washing machine and turned it on, then left the laundry room, shutting the door behind him.
As Colin headed back to his room, he grabbed a fresh set of sheets from the linen closet.
~~~
Bright called out,
"Mom! Dad! I'm headed over to Colin's! Have dinner without me, 'kay?"
Without waiting for an answer, Bright walked out of the house. He shoved his hands into his pockets as he walked down the street to Colin's house. He hummed slightly to himself, vaguely paying attention to where he was going. It was a natural instinct, walking to Colin's. He had been walking that same path since he was, like, 3. Granted, he had walked it holding his mother or father's hand, but that didn't matter. Bright rubbed his hands together as he walked up the steps to the Harts' front door.
Ringing the doorbell, Bright bounced up and down on his toes in impatience. The door swung open to reveal a widely grinning, slightly out of breath Colin. He joined Bright outside, calling something in to his mom before shutting the door behind them.
They began to short walk to the park, keys dangling from Colin's hand. Bright was happier than he'd been in a long, long time. It was incredible to have Colin back. and spending the day with Colin, playing basketball, hanging out at one of the local diners.it was nearly an ideal day.
~~~
"Oh! Boom, baby!"
Bright laughed as Colin did a little victory dance. He had just beat Bright, again, in a round of one-on-one. But Bright was a good sport. Colin liked that about Bright. He was good-natured. It was hard to piss him off. And when he was pissed off, all was easily forgiven.
Colin tossed Bright the ball, then sighed as Bright began to dribble. He said, blowing a stray lock of hair out of his eyes,
"Again, Bright? I've beat you, like, 6 times already!"
Bright only shook his head, his eyes closed in stubbornness. He said, dropping the ball and crossing his arms,
"We'll play till I beat you."
Colin groaned, a half smile on his face.
"Bright, man, we'll be here all day!"
Bright only laughed and scooped the ball up, then tossed it to Colin, saying,
"Check."
Colin rolled his eyes, but threw the ball back to Bright, signifying the start of the game.
~~~
Right in the middle of a three-point shot (in their 9th game, now), Colin stopped and dropped the ball. A memory flooded his brain.
"No one has to Know!"
Bright frowned,
"That's not the point, Colin. I don't want to risk it. Risk Amy finding out! she is my sister."
Colin sighed, sidling up to Bright. He murmured softly,
"Bright."
Bright's heart clenched at that purr, the tone of Colin's voice as he made Bright's name sound like something exotic. Colin slid one hand up the back of Bright's neck, ensnaring the tips of the longish, soft blonde hair between his fingers. With a little smile, a soft sigh, Colin pressed his lips to Bright's.
Bright's lips were unbelievably soft, his breath minty, his teeth even. Perfect. Colin groaned slightly when Bright's arms came around his waist, pulling him closer.
Bright took advantage of Colin's open-mouthed groan, sliding his tongue between Colin's lips to engage Colin's tongue in a duel.
Bright's tongue was velvety softness. His taste was a potent mixture of mint, orange soda, and a flavor uniquely Bright. Colin couldn't get enough of Bright. He tugged until Bright tumbled onto the couch beside them, rolling Colin underneath him.
Colin stared at Bright in disbelief. Bright shifted nervously under the intense gaze. He said,
"What, man? Why'd you stop?"
Colin's look turned into a look of shock, then one of wonder, until finally settling on a look of pure happiness.
Kicking the ball out from his path, Colin walked over to Bright, grabbed his arm, then dragged him into the ball shed.
Bight was shocked to find himself pushed up against the shed door with Colin's lips pressed to his.
Just like the memory, Colin thought. Bright's lips were so, so soft. The scent of mint drifted over him. And when Bright's lips parted.Colin's lips curved at the mint, the underlying Bright flavor. The only difference was that there was no Orange Soda. Now, it was the sickly sweet flavor of Vanilla Coke.
After a blissful minute, Bright pushed Colin away. He squinted, trying to see Colin's face in the darkness of the shed.
"Dude, what are you doing?"
Colin grinned hesitantly, a little confused. He said,
"Therapy."
Bright frowned for a minute, then the corner of his mouth quirked.
"What did you say?"
Colin glanced around nervously,
"um.therapy?"
"Does that mean."
With a shout of joy, Bright swept Colin into a hug, squeezing tightly, then he pulled slightly away to look Colin in the eyes.
Colin smiled happily and said,
"So, Dull, whadaya say?"
Bright rolled his eyes, smiling, then leaned forwards and pressed his lips to Colin's.
Colin sighed deeply into Bright's mouth.
Suddenly, all of the pieces in Colin's broken-up puzzle fit together. It was like coming home after a long, long trip.
The End
A shirt was tossed over the back of the couch, followed by a pair of pants, another shirt, someone's beat-up Nike shoe. Muffled grunts and moans could be heard, but it was impossible to tell from whom they came. Lips were pressed together in heated urgency, bodies sliding together, slicked with sweat. A window was open and the room smelled of summer. Of heat, of freshly mowed grass, but with a faint, under-lying scent of arousal. The bodies on the couch were locked in a passionate embrace, oblivious to the world around them. Centered on only the fact that they were together. Alone. And they had all the time in the world. One sure hand reached down between their bodies, under the waistband of baby blue boxer-briefs. A few skillful strokes, and the boy was arching up, a muffled cry coming from his mouth, his face pressed into the other person's chest, as he came.
Colin awoke with a start, sitting up, a sheen of sweat covering his body. Not wanting to think about what that dream meant, he swiped at his forehead, then turned, swinging his feet over the side of the bed. Wincing slightly at the coldness of the hardwood floor, Colin walked into his bathroom and turned on the shower.
Dripping wet, Colin trudged over to the bureau in the corner of his room. He pulled out a pair of boxer-briefs. He glanced at them in mild surprise. They were baby blue. He hadn't grabbed those on purpose. Shrugging, Colin slipped into them. Colin glanced disdainfully at his bed. He would have to wash his sheets. Again. He knew his parents wouldn't say a word, but he saw the looks they exchanged when they thought he wasn't looking.
Grumbling to himself, Colin began to pull the sheets off his bed. This was the 4th time this week. Shaking his head, Colin tiptoed down stairs. A quick glance at the clock had affirmed that it was very early in the morning. 2:30, to be exact. And he didn't even have school the next day! Colin stuffed the sheets into the washing machine and turned it on, then left the laundry room, shutting the door behind him.
As Colin headed back to his room, he grabbed a fresh set of sheets from the linen closet.
~~~
Bright called out,
"Mom! Dad! I'm headed over to Colin's! Have dinner without me, 'kay?"
Without waiting for an answer, Bright walked out of the house. He shoved his hands into his pockets as he walked down the street to Colin's house. He hummed slightly to himself, vaguely paying attention to where he was going. It was a natural instinct, walking to Colin's. He had been walking that same path since he was, like, 3. Granted, he had walked it holding his mother or father's hand, but that didn't matter. Bright rubbed his hands together as he walked up the steps to the Harts' front door.
Ringing the doorbell, Bright bounced up and down on his toes in impatience. The door swung open to reveal a widely grinning, slightly out of breath Colin. He joined Bright outside, calling something in to his mom before shutting the door behind them.
They began to short walk to the park, keys dangling from Colin's hand. Bright was happier than he'd been in a long, long time. It was incredible to have Colin back. and spending the day with Colin, playing basketball, hanging out at one of the local diners.it was nearly an ideal day.
~~~
"Oh! Boom, baby!"
Bright laughed as Colin did a little victory dance. He had just beat Bright, again, in a round of one-on-one. But Bright was a good sport. Colin liked that about Bright. He was good-natured. It was hard to piss him off. And when he was pissed off, all was easily forgiven.
Colin tossed Bright the ball, then sighed as Bright began to dribble. He said, blowing a stray lock of hair out of his eyes,
"Again, Bright? I've beat you, like, 6 times already!"
Bright only shook his head, his eyes closed in stubbornness. He said, dropping the ball and crossing his arms,
"We'll play till I beat you."
Colin groaned, a half smile on his face.
"Bright, man, we'll be here all day!"
Bright only laughed and scooped the ball up, then tossed it to Colin, saying,
"Check."
Colin rolled his eyes, but threw the ball back to Bright, signifying the start of the game.
~~~
Right in the middle of a three-point shot (in their 9th game, now), Colin stopped and dropped the ball. A memory flooded his brain.
"No one has to Know!"
Bright frowned,
"That's not the point, Colin. I don't want to risk it. Risk Amy finding out! she is my sister."
Colin sighed, sidling up to Bright. He murmured softly,
"Bright."
Bright's heart clenched at that purr, the tone of Colin's voice as he made Bright's name sound like something exotic. Colin slid one hand up the back of Bright's neck, ensnaring the tips of the longish, soft blonde hair between his fingers. With a little smile, a soft sigh, Colin pressed his lips to Bright's.
Bright's lips were unbelievably soft, his breath minty, his teeth even. Perfect. Colin groaned slightly when Bright's arms came around his waist, pulling him closer.
Bright took advantage of Colin's open-mouthed groan, sliding his tongue between Colin's lips to engage Colin's tongue in a duel.
Bright's tongue was velvety softness. His taste was a potent mixture of mint, orange soda, and a flavor uniquely Bright. Colin couldn't get enough of Bright. He tugged until Bright tumbled onto the couch beside them, rolling Colin underneath him.
Colin stared at Bright in disbelief. Bright shifted nervously under the intense gaze. He said,
"What, man? Why'd you stop?"
Colin's look turned into a look of shock, then one of wonder, until finally settling on a look of pure happiness.
Kicking the ball out from his path, Colin walked over to Bright, grabbed his arm, then dragged him into the ball shed.
Bight was shocked to find himself pushed up against the shed door with Colin's lips pressed to his.
Just like the memory, Colin thought. Bright's lips were so, so soft. The scent of mint drifted over him. And when Bright's lips parted.Colin's lips curved at the mint, the underlying Bright flavor. The only difference was that there was no Orange Soda. Now, it was the sickly sweet flavor of Vanilla Coke.
After a blissful minute, Bright pushed Colin away. He squinted, trying to see Colin's face in the darkness of the shed.
"Dude, what are you doing?"
Colin grinned hesitantly, a little confused. He said,
"Therapy."
Bright frowned for a minute, then the corner of his mouth quirked.
"What did you say?"
Colin glanced around nervously,
"um.therapy?"
"Does that mean."
With a shout of joy, Bright swept Colin into a hug, squeezing tightly, then he pulled slightly away to look Colin in the eyes.
Colin smiled happily and said,
"So, Dull, whadaya say?"
Bright rolled his eyes, smiling, then leaned forwards and pressed his lips to Colin's.
Colin sighed deeply into Bright's mouth.
Suddenly, all of the pieces in Colin's broken-up puzzle fit together. It was like coming home after a long, long trip.
The End