It was cold in the room. Vin shivered and shook under the damp sheets, teeth chattering behind his lips, the cracks of his eyes watering. His skin was painted with goosebumps and lathered in sweat, twitching and convulsing across the lean physique that encapsulated his lithe musculature. Hazel eyes were glazed and shuttered by long lashes, the only things able to show willing movement while they slowly slid back and forth across their white space. Another form moved above him, more graceful and calm with its movement, but a mere shadow. No more than a shadow with eyes like the sky.
How had he gotten here? It was a long time ago to think back to. For now, Vincent s body ached with sensations now null to his mind. Such a numbness had overcome his thoughts. But he smiled somehow when warm lips came to meet his. Sam he thought. My Sam
Time rewound. Their soft embrace, a tangle of long gentle arms, threw back into rows of passion, effort and force. Skin drove against skin, the bones beneath chafing and burning while they immersed in each other s flesh. It hurt and blazed like a white flame, but there were no breaks. The body, as of the time, was blind to pain, ignorant of the incommodious hurt. It was passion; frivolous, desperate passion.
Sam Sam Vin would cry, gasp, scream. Oh, it hurt, but he had already forgotten. The important feelings were his arms wrapped around broad shoulders, legs open to embrace smooth hips, and the pillow sliding sneakily under his back to leave his scolding neck virgin to the frozen sheets. Sam had left the window open, knowing the heat that would consume the entire room and its occupants, and indeed it had been hot; like being in an oven, cataclysmic boilers tipping liquid hot iron into a vat as scorching as the sun. They rolled around for hours until finally the heat was inside, bursting into him. Vincent accepted, thirsting for the flood as if he had Moses in his soul. Wash away the wrongs, let him swallow the right. Sam Sam
Though his lover was silent, Vince knew his calls had been returned in physicality, the body speaking more words in quiet than anything a tongue could flick off its witty tip. Besides, there would be time for that poetry later. Sam s hands, as of this moment, said I love you. Holding his face, petting it; one sneaking down Vin s stomach and beyond to thrill him. Sam s lips spoke history to his chest, old hurt now tenderly healed by first time love. Loss of innocence. Sam s eyes, oh, Sam s eyes were screaming continuity. The rest of his body may age and die, but his sparkling, gleaming blue eyes would last forever. Vince kissed those eyes.
The silent rapture of the room was presently intoxicating, though all the heat gone from Vincent s body. Not even a distant Sam could be ushered from his quivering lips. He was not scared, no, all such childish feelings were vanished, like rabbit from a magician s hat. Now, he only shivered from the cold, distant in a haze.
Gentle touches. Like footprints dancing up his stomach, chest and neck. I love you hands whispered on his cheek while lips continued to roam his land. I love you Vin noiselessly sang back with his fingers on a strong chest, down a perked, dark n****e, across ribs and finally taking tiresome rest on the sheets. Cold, wet sheets. It had been long since he last inhaled and he finally realized why. It was a burden to have love weighted on your chest, especially that of your elder brother.
Words of concern broke the perfect stillness and Vince was forced to waste energy he didn t have to reply. Tired His voice was found to be pleasingly hoarse. A relieved sigh from above. Though there would always be concern for later, knowing that a hitch in his step was obvious when he walked and his blatant exhaustion would anger teachers during class. He cursed himself; it was a school night.
With words being so exuberant before, the new silence was rather unsettling. It gave the brothers time to think about what they d done. After all, it wasn t exactly moral sainthood, and if anyone knew Vincent wasn t eighteen yet, two years to go, and Sam was six years older than him.
Vin Hey, Vin. Loving hands now patted his cheeks, rousing him from his deep thoughts. He instantly replied by wrapping his arms around the long torso above him, letting them rest, locked, along his warm back. It ached to do so. How could Sam have so much heat? Vin, I love you so much.
I love you too, Sam. He replied. Those doubtful thoughts from before were worthless against such prevailing phrases. Who cared what society thought? Let them be selfish; for now, the two were being just. With a profound shiver, Vincent rubbed his body back and forth against the sheets, still wet with perspiration. I m cold.
His brother s shadowy movement was quick and after a moment of adjusting, the two were holding close to one another under the covers. Mhm, you re nice and cool.
Sam s husky, deep voice in Vincent s ear.
The younger was as cold as Sam was hot and each rather counteracted the other comfortably. It wasn t long before their temperatures evened out and they were dozing. Vin s vision was still blurry, his body dehydrated and sore, and he busily distracted himself by threading his fingers over and over through Sam s straight bangs.
Will your restlessness be active all night? Sam asked, one eye sliding open. A color kissed over the younger brother s cheeks and his fingers stopped. He d forgotten how still his brother was in sleeping. Thank you.
Though Sam s large hands pet over Vince s waist and hips, and the brother did not close his eyes again. Was it so obvious Vin wanted company? Are you sore?
Of course, Sam was concerned. A reply came as a small, shrugging nod and dismissal. Sometimes an older brother could be too caring, a younger teen not enough. But, yes indeed, Vincent was beginning to feel a pain in his lower back, one that was spreading like a hot steam up his spine from his entrance spot, more commonly used as an exit, between his legs. His tailbone felt more like putty. He shifted uncomfortably.
The room was possibly cooler than before, especially since their activity had ceased. Chilling air swept over the lovers like a winter cloak, draping them in shivers with a frozen cowl and forcing jaws to chatter. Sam slipped out of bed to close the window, again becoming a light shadow. Hazel eyes watched with interest, loving curiosity that awoke his mind belay the counteractions of the body. It was Sam s form that intrigued. So tall, lean and pale; a beauty like moonlight beneath pliable skin that practically radiated through the thin flesh and while a hand reached out to push on the window, generous muscles could be seen, flexing like rubber bands over his bones. A finely tuned chest, smooth and thick, descending like a pour of milk to sharply angled hips and a firm buttocks; tall legs, long for past days in running first place. He was perfect, with his angel blue eyes and faerie-blond hair sweeping off to one side, out of the way, out of his thin face with its high cheekbones and pointed jaw, ideal for kissing. Pixie ears. The man was a fairytale, alive and ingenious. Lips of ivory, faintly blushed and slim, elastic, enunciated with perfected articulation, guardians to the velvet tongue behind. An artist s tongue. The stronger appendage and yet softer than any other part of his body, sweet, experienced; Vincent s favorite play-thing. It was a generous toy.
Oh, if only dreams could speak! Vin could not count the times he d dreamt of seeing his older brother the way he did now. Imagined those flawless hands palming down his sides, wrapping around his want, his need, his every desire. Touching his insides in a hundred different ways, elevating their lust for one another in absolute pleasure and euphoria. Vin wanted to delight his brother, wanted him happy. But he also wanted Sam to touch him. There were times he felt he couldn t live without a simple caress. When things finally came down to it, he could have died when he was touched. It was just too good to be true.
The bed sank beneath Sam s knees when he returned, finally recognizing the cold and quivering. Lifting the fluorescent sheets, billowing ghosts in the night, they found warmth together once more and dozed peacefully. With eyes adjusted to the night, Vince let his gaze pan around the room. It was blue by the light of the moon, a color that always calmed him, even depressed him at times.
Sam His voice was low, a hush over the steady breathing of his elder lover, who s arm had moved over him reflexively at the sound of his voice. There was never a tire of the name; however, while the younger lay restless, Sam was surely tired. My a** hurts.
Sam would grunt a short response about using proper language and melded their bodies together a perfect fit with the patience of a father and the care of a lover. Always the protective quality of a brother.
Though he was an understanding man, forever and for always, Sam let Vince settle down again to let him try and forget about it. This technique usually worked more often than not. It was naught. Vin wouldn t let this one go, holding with prideful resilience to his pain like a battle scar left from the war of love. Though this was rather conflicting, as it was quite painful. He truly hoped it wouldn t be worse by morning.
Dark shapes played tricks on the boy s mind, fitting in and out of discernable shapes before his eyes. Lower the lids fell, slowly, slowly, until they were closed. Sleep ensued and the room was cold. Only shadows watched now.