Parts Never Recorded
--
Call him a romantic if you like, but he had never imagined it to be like this.
When he thought of love, it was always poetic; a dazzling hill at sunset, with eloquent words exchanged. It was not the school library at one thirty-two p.m., with a gravelly voice muttering the words "shove over." It was not the bump of a pointy, boyish hip; followed more often than not by the intimate acquaintance of his nose and the dusty carpet.
Love's kisses were supposed to be sweet, passionate, meaningful, and all of those other things. He was fairly sure that they were not messy and bruising, slamming and startling. He also had a sneaking suspicion that love's kisses did not result in a tongue up anyone's nostril (though one could never quite be sure. Perhaps that part was just never recorded).
The point was, what exactly was this… well; he wasn't sure that he could find the words.
--
Thump.
"Miss me?"
"Actually, no."
It was a lie. As he attempted to sit up underneath the weight of the other by, he felt his brain go a bit fuzzy with delight.
Finally, he managed to prop himself against the head of the bed. The other boy was still on his lap; grinning and straddling his hips. He took in a sharp breath through his nose, and promptly tried to pretend it hadn't happened.
The other boy twitched his eyebrows and leaned in, black hair swinging and getting in both of their eyes.
"Really?"
"Yes. Really. I – nnmphk."
--
The kiss was all bumping knees; grinding, scraping hip and cheekbones. Really not a sensual experience in the least.
Yet…
He didn't think he really minded that much at all.
--
This may not be love, but he would take it just the same.