A lot of dialogue this chappie, if you want a brief summary without the touches and very sweet kisses, scroll to the bottom and I'll summarize. Enjoy!

Pony laid down on Brooklyn's bed and sighed as the blonde man studied in silence. He didn't look to be very productive since his note taking looked suspiciously like doodling in the margin of a fairly expensive textbook. Brooklyn was so damn cold. He could let tension roll of him in an instant and go to study, leaving Pony in a thrall of pained confusion. Pony sighed. He was being over dramatic. Brooklyn had pissed him off because Pony actually believed Brooklyn would treat him like an adult outside of the bedroom.

Pony watched Brooklyn and noticed that all the tension had left his frame, his manner, his utterly relaxed muscles. He sighed and scratched something out. He always wrote in black ballpoint pens that let long streams of ink flow with the slightest touch but could be stilled to barely a mark. His handwriting was gorgeous; a unique alphabet based off of very elaborate cursive, flowing and curled to the thin line of beauty where legibility is slightly marred by the long loops and dancing lines.

Pony wanted to know what he was drawing, so he crawled up to cover Brooklyn's frame with his, even though it was impossible to actually cover Brooklyn's frame. He rested on Brooklyn's back, his groin pressing to Brooklyn's hips as his face hung over Brooklyn's shoulder. Brooklyn rested his head on the book and Pony nudged it free.

"Brooklyn, this is beautiful."

It was a sketch of Pony, head in his hands as his elbows rested on the bed. His hair hung in his face, longer in the front than it'd ever been and seemingly without grease. Every muscle, every curve, every line was perfect and his expression was one of tense boredom. He wasn't wearing a shirt and Pony wondered if the lines of his bare shoulders and face were that pleasant.

"Humfp." Brooklyn muttered into the pillow.

"I'm serious." Pony said.

"I only drew you to see where I could convince you to get a tattoo." Brooklyn muttered.

"And to try a new hairstyle." Pony said. He frowned. "What's wrong with my hair now?" Brooklyn laughed and enjoyed Pony's gentle caresses as the boy stroked his hair.

"Nothing. I just thought it might look good like that."

"Do you know someone with this haircut?" Pony knew he did since he would often draw people with hair similar, the same man, boy almost, with dark hair, eyes and smile. Or an older one with a grave expression, eyes always downcast. Or a woman with blonde hair and a gentle face. Or the Italian girl Brooklyn spoke of once before, with long curls and a sultry smile. Pony sometimes felt jealous of the pictures since he knew they had to receive a lot of Brooklyn's attention for him to be able to draw them.

"Yes. You've seen my doodling before."

"Show me it again, draw the one with the tattoo on his neck." Brooklyn groaned.

"I've been drawing him?" Brooklyn asked.

"Yes." Pony said.

"I don't want to."

"Please?" Pony asked.

"Fine."

Pony watched, feeling the edge of Brooklyn's shoulder bone moving as he drew. The man looked very handsome, if not severe, or at least trying to look severe. The tattoo on his neck read "NY", for New York City, Pony assumed, although privately he wondered whether it had anything to do with Brooklyn. Even the entire outline was black, (from Brooklyn's favorite color of pen) Pony thought that his eyes were black in real life too.

Pony disliked the detail Brooklyn gave to his muscles because the man appeared to be rather built without being as broad shouldered as Brooklyn. He was thin and sinewy, lean muscles evident but not over stated. Pony frowned at the pen sketch whose eyes were tamed to his in a deadened embrace.

"What's his name?"

"Jacoby." Brooklyn said.

"Is that really how he looks?"

"Last time I saw him, although he's usually smoking a Virginia slim." Brooklyn snickered but Pony blinked at him.

"He's, handsome."

"Oh please." Brooklyn scoffed and kept himself from smiling. "He's absolutely, irrationally gorgeous." Pony's frown was Brooklyn's reward and Brooklyn turned his head up to his shoulder and kissed the boy. "You asked."

"What color is his hair?"

"He liked to dye it. It's actually very black, but he'd bleach it out and dye it weird colors. Blue, sometimes red. I liked it black."

"And his eyes?" Pony asked.

"As green as yours." Brooklyn said. Pony frowned.

"How did you know him?" Pony asked.

"He was my best friend from middle school on." Brooklyn said.

"What does his tattoo mean?"

"New York." Brooklyn said.

"Why?" Pony asked.

"Because he got drunk one night and thought it'd be funny."

"Was that your nick name?" Pony asked.

"Yes."

"Did he get it because of you?" Pony asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Did he get it, for you?" Pony stammered.

"I have no idea." Brooklyn said.

"Why are you letting me badger you for answers?" Pony asked, kissing Brooklyn's ear.

"Because where you are right now is really hot and I don't want you to move to badger me from a different angle." Brooklyn said. Pony flushed. "And you know it. I can tell you like badgering me. You know, you're what most people would call a 'bossy bottom'." Pony blushed since he knew bottom wasn't referring to a body part.

"Well, I don't have to be a bottom."

"For a while you do because we both need more time to consider anything else. Right?" Brooklyn looked up at him.

"Yeah." Pony said.

"Yeah, me too."

"Did you love him?" Pony asked.

"What?" Brooklyn looked at him, as if he misheard. He motioned for Pony to let him roll onto his back and Pony settled on his stomach, resting his face against Brooklyn's chest.

"Do you love him?" Brooklyn didn't respond instantly and Pony felt a hurt lodge in his throat. "You had sex with him." Pony said. He denied meeting Brooklyn's eyes to avoid admitting how the thought made his stomach clench and made tears stand in his eyes.

"Yes and no. I loved him as a friend but he did things that I could never forgive."

"Did you have sex with him?" Pony repeated.

"Yes and no." Brooklyn didn't elaborate.

"He wanted you to fuck him." Pony spat.

"Pony, he wanted a lot of things."

"Tell me what happened to you." Pony said.

"What?"

"You sound like you didn't want to have sex with him, and I want to know why, especially since he's absolutely, irrationally gorgeous." Pony said, eyebrow raised.

"I already explained-"

"No, you explained why you didn't love him. Explain why I can't go down on you and why you can't think of yourself as a bottom. I'm sure it involves him in some way." Pony said.

"You really are a bossy bottom. When did you get so damn assertive? I've never seen you so, bossy. Your brother is rubbing off on you." Brooklyn muttered.

"I want to know all about you and you already know me, my past and how much I love you. I can't say the same because I don't anything about you, about before you came to Tulsa."

"Why are you so angry?" Brooklyn asked. His voice was soft and insistent, making Pony's tone sound heartless and abusive when it really was an entreaty for the truth. Pony felt worse now.

"I'm not angry."

"Then why are you asking such angry questions? You sound like you want to kick Jacoby's ass and you don't even know him." Brooklyn said. He didn't touch Pony because he didn't want Pony to brush him off; that was the worst feeling ever, having a lover turn your touch away. Pony's knees met the bed on either side of Brooklyn's body as he laid flat on Brooklyn and frowned.

"Because he got to love you first. Probably your very first." Brooklyn's chilled scoff frightened Pony.

"He was not my first Pony and my first is nothing to be envied."

"Who was it then?" Pony demanded, pushing himself up so he looked down on Brooklyn.

"Why does it matter?" Brooklyn asked.

"Because they did something to you. Something bad. Something that makes you such a selfless lover. Something that makes you afraid of letting me love you how I want to love you. Something that gives you nightmares after we make love." He learned down, low on Brooklyn's neck, letting air brush across his ear. "I hear you talk in your sleep. Sometimes you say no, telling him that it hurts, that you want to go home and that he's hurting you so very much." He let his had rest there, feeling emotional exhaustion set in from his confessions and demands. Brooklyn was stunned and no longer turned on in the least.

"I say those things?" Brooklyn whispered.

"Yes." Pony said.

"I can see why you're so demanding all the sudden. I'd be horrified if you said those things." He let his fingers roll a stray strand of hair on Pony's forehead and kissed him.

"So, could you at least tell me why?" Pony stared at him with his green eyes sad, reflecting a deep tumult of confusion, anxiety and fear.

"Pony-"

"I don't want to lose you, but I can't have you now either." Pony said. He paused and exhaled. "So please, Brooklyn, please, tell me." Brooklyn felt the last of his resistance drain away and sighed, wishing they'd had sex since after this lengthy explanation, Pony would never want to see him again.

"Only because I want to be yours entirely."

So basically, the next few chappies will be about Brooklyn's past, with interruptions from Pony. Brooklyn only wants to talk about it because Pony feels the need to be demanding and a little rough about it. See you next chappie. Feel free to tell me what you think, want to see or if you don't wanna hear about Brooklyn, well, you can voice that opinion too. I'll try to keep it brief.