Cold air from the outside world chilled his skin, leaving him in wake. He didn't bother to close the window, seeing as he was already in a comfortable situation. Work was hard enough today. The usual everyday labor and routine insults came to pass.
Another chilling wind bit him, forcibly prompting him to shut it. He sighed miserably and slid it shut. He sat there on his bedside while staring at his alarm clock on the nightstand. For some reason he felt empty inside all of a sudden. Something from a past memory of his.
He'd dare not think about it. Ever since that horrendous incident, things haven't been the same to him. Something had halted him from eating or sleeping as if he was filled with sudden guilt about something.
But guilty about what was the question here. It couldn't his mishap in leaving the entire Bravo Team behind. Everyone survived -with the exception of Captain Wesker- so that couldn't be the case. But there was one... and that was --
Brad shook his head dourly. It was too sad just to speak his name. The joker of the group and also a reliable friend in return. Brad thought differently. He was more than a friend. The feeling he got whenever around him. It was a safe and secure feeling. His fears were put aside for the moment to let all his attention circle him. The kind of attention that you gave a person you had special feelings for.
In his theory, he believed the nickname had started it all. The nickname represented his fear and instability (something he was very, but secretly proud of.) He was referred to that name so much, he almost lost memory of his original one. Especially by him (something he got a little turned on by).
His brain had shutdown, leaving him to tired to think anymore. What was it again? "Oh yeah," he muttered. "Chicken--"
"Heart," a gentle voice cut in. A recurring event that had happened too many times before had routined Brad to go for a weapon whenever up against a stranger. His first instance was to go for the bat underneath the bed and strike quickly, but felt a strange, warming sensation as he gripped it.
"It's been a while," they said. Brad knew that voice anywhere; but it couldn't be.
"You?" he questioned curiously, lowering his weapon.
"In the flesh... or am I?" They quizzed.
Brad could see a lean and muscled figure in the darkness standing there as if they were waiting for an order from him.
"I mean... it's only been a few weeks since you saw me. You forget about me or something?"
Bad shook his head almost unknowingly. The person who stood before him couldn't possibly be standing before him now. If he remembered correctly, they had died then. But no... the memory was too scary to review on. The dark, moonlit night. The deathly hush that fell over the forest. And the images of dogs mercilessly attacking the Bravo team. It brought nothing down but regret and malice for him. He cursed himself for his fear; for running away in time of need.
"I'm sorry," he said unconsciously. "I..."
The man shook his head and faintly grinned before stepping out to reveal himself. He wore an almost confused look towards Brad's expression. One of a freaked out but happy kind.
"Jo," he whispered melancholically . The man he knew looked the same as he did that day. His black boots looked shiny as ever and blended in ever so nicely with his army fatigues and blue vests. Yet it seemed Brad was only focused on the blue eyes and the red bandana that was covering his blonde hair. He was drawn to him. Literally. He put a hand on his shoulder just to see if he was hallucinating or not. A light appeared before him, suddenly flashing him back into a past memory. A memory he didn't want to keep with him.
(He jerked for the controls, possessed by his own fear and brought the helicopter back to life. His mind was impulsive and his actions uncontrollable. Without thinking he soared off into the night sky, overhearing the words Chris yelled out and the faint screams of Joseph intercepted by the sound of tearing flesh and bone gnawing. A single tear ran down his cheek in authority of his cowardliness. Why did he leave and come back at the last minute he wondered. Guess he'd never know now.)
"I didn't mean to--," his voice trailed off the path of shame. "I just..."
Joseph put a finger to his lips, almost sealing them and whispered "I forgave you a long time ago. It's wasn't your fault anyway. You couldn't help it."
Brad wasn't feeling any better about what he'd done back there and wasn't going to bypass it so easily. What he did was unforgivable. No. More like a sin for him. A permanent one he couldn't repent for no matter how hard he prayed.
Another thin strand of denial came across him forcing him to look away. Though he couldn't resist looking into those sea blue eyes and relishing the moment of peace on hand. Surely, he couldn't that easily for what he had done. He wouldn't accept his forgiveness until he took back the moment that he so dreadfully made on impulse.
"But I,". Joseph gave him another reassuring look. "Will this help?" He asked with a faint smile.
??????
That was all it took for Brad's nerves to finally stop spinning out of control; a soft, tantalizing kiss that he found himself longing for. Soft fingers trailing up the sensitive surface of his skin, making him shiver with every touch. Something whispered, no, screamed inside his body urging him to jump at the invite.
The hairs on his neck raised in excitement as Joseph teased along his neck with his soft lips. He felt right and relieved again; enduring this pleasurable and satiated feeling that rocked him to the core.
Warm hands tugged at the rim of his boxers and then into them. Never had he been touched so softly before: better than what his father had done when he was little.
Brad unzipped Joseph's vest and unconsciously threw it to the side, eager to feel the hard muscles underneath the cotton of his shirt.
Not bothered by the time wasted by slowly removing each article of clothing the two moved to the bed savoring the moment with passion. Now the only thing that was in the way were two pairs of boxers and a gamut of ideas on what do to make this moment all worthwhile.
Brad let Joseph dominate him on purpose just to test him, no, rather to let him tease and pick. The charming blonde sucked on one nipple and then the other making a designated area around Brad's chest. A satisfied sigh came from Brad who's eyes were closed in occurrence of fantasizing in the mind.
Jo trailed soft kisses down his torso and below his hairless navel. He tucked his fingers under the waistband of Brad's boxers.
A perfect set of groomed manhood lay before him: awaiting him. The suspense was making them both impatient. But they didn't want to rush things yet. Just so not to make things look less appealing.
He took the member into his mouth hearing a satisfying groan of satisfaction in the room. He covered every length and width of it. Feeling himself growing below he freed himself from the chain of restraint to get a better feel.
seconds turned to minutes. Minutes turned into a mere couple of hours for this ecstatic sport they were engaging in.
"Ungh...don't stop...I'm close," Brad whispered blandly. He figured he had at least 16 second countdown before he released. But that only made Joseph go deeper with more grace in his strokes.
16...
15...
14...
Oh this felt so right.
13...
12...
11...
10...
Don't stop. Please... for me
9...
8...
7...
6...
.....
5...
4...
3...
2...
1...
Brad felt himself automatically bucking his hips to the rhythm of Joseph's speed. He took a quiet deep breath and felt himself explode into his partner's mouth. 5 or 6 pumps were all it took. Thin streams of white seed and saliva ran down from the gaps in between his mouth and Brad's lowering manhood. A smile appeared on the blonde's face and then crept up to the brunet's to let him taste himself. They swapped a bit and then swallowed.
Another look appeared on Joseph's face showing that he was happy for him. After all, that was his objective from the start. To relieve him from his insecurities even if only for a short while.
He could tell Brad didn't want it to end by observing his look of want and need. It was a shame that they'd gone through the first part so quickly.
"Ready"? He whispered tenderly. Brad just made out with him again showing that he was ready and willing for anything he was going to throw at him next.
He smirked an then proceeded to work his way into the tight and aching entrance. Brad threw his head back into the pillow in response to the wave of shocking excitement that permeated ever nook and cranny of his body. He almost melted into oblivion it seemed. Cutting himself off from the world of resentment and loneliness and only focusing on now. The nightmares and everyday abuse slowly slipping away into nothingness. Regaining every part of himself lost in the darkest depths of his already disoriented mind.
The memories of "that night" fading as well. He had no more regrets it looked like. Just the blissful serenity of being with--
"Joseph," he muttered in a tone lesser than a whisper. "There".
Like a dog heeding it's master, he hit the same spot again and again, forcing Brad to staccato slight moans. The tighter Brad clutched, the deeper Joseph went.
His thrusts became more frequent. His heart beating rapidly. Sweat pouring down his body in hot indulgence. He felt it coming, restless and feral. Wrapping his arms around Brad's neck, he went slower until he grunted slightly.
In one mind shattering blow he thrust himself in once more and filled the chocolate-haired man's hole with white pleasantness. Brad's eyes rolled in the back of his head again before he laid himself back on the pillow to catch his breath.
From a sensual excavation to utter silence all but the sound of heavy breathing could be heard in the plain room. A calm and fulfilled Joseph laid next to a satisfied and love-drunken Brad. They intertwined their bodies and fell fast asleep in each other's arms but not before Brad whispered a thank you to the man.
It was a perfect ending to a long and enchanting night of love-making. A night that was too be remembered and never forgotten
--
Brad woke up to the sound of bustling cars and the morning commute outside his window. Carefully, he stepped out his bed so not to disturb the gorgeous man still sleeping in it and went over to the bathroom to was his face. Minutes after cleansing himself he went back into the bedroom....
Only to find the sheets flat and void of a body. Brad felt a slight sense of paranoia come over him as he slowly reached and pulled back the sheets. A red bandana lay in the middle of the ruffled sheets folded in a mannerly fashion. He held it in his hands and noticed it was tattered and torn at the sides with what appeared to be a large bloodstain on the side of it.
But it looked different from the one he saw last night; Brand new and recent. Could he have been dreaming? no...that couldn't have been it. It all felt so real though. Surely his mind couldn't have been playing tricks on him.
The again anything was possible.
So here's my question to you. Was he real... or not?
This story was probably a bit good and a bit atrocious altogether. Sorry about that. It's pretty much my first one. Plus' I'm kind of new to the whole thing too. So... please review and comment. I'll take them all good or bad.
