There is a baited breath hovering in the air between us. It floods my lungs and stings at the cuts on my nose. Gary does not move so neither do I. There is a flat look in the dimly lit face above me. Tired. A hint of annoyance? It's hard to tell but the grip he has on my wrists, above my head, is loose.
He leans in, and my thoughts stop. His mouth is by my ear. I can feel heat radiating off of his body; clothes rustle against my bare abdomen.
"Say you're sorry, Pete." He whispers. He remains there, pressed to me, and I feel like screaming.
Air hitches in my throat. "No." I can't find the pride I should feel for not playing along with his sick games. I brace myself for an outburst that doesn't come, for shouts and blows that will leave me more damaged than I thought imaginable. Gary lets my hands go.
Lips brushing my ear, he continues. "Say it." There is something sinister underneath his tone. There usually is, but this is shadowed with a facade of calm, like dirty clothes doused in perfume.
I lean up into Gary, pushing at his chest with my own, a physical plea to move. He ignores this request, instead rolling his hips into mine, just once. I don't move, I don't speak. Staring wide-eyed at the ceiling, I marvel at the warmth pooling in my stomach. I try to latch onto the disgust that follows suit and can't help thinking that I will be glad when he's dead.
I feel too stiff when I place my hand on Gary's arm, neither pushing nor pulling.
He laughs quietly, a genuine laugh, and he winds his fingers through my hair. It feels good, too good, even with the gauze wrapped around his palm. I feel insanely vulnerable. I make no move to stop him when he shifts, placing soft kisses on the underside of my jaw. A breathy moan passes my lips. Pushing. I'm definitely pushing now.
"Come on, Pete. Aren't you sorry?" He pulls back, peering at me from underneath dark lashes. There's a bruise on the side of his face. I don't know how I feel about being the one to put it there.
"I'm not." I say, hoping I sound more convicted in the notion than I feel.
He narrows his eyes at me, leaning further away, over my chest. "Really?" He plants open-mouthed kisses over my sternum and I arch into the action, eyes fluttering closed. His hands are large and warm, brushing over my sides, thumbing small circles into my skin. "Are you sure?" I begin to answer but his tongue laps at my collar bone, and my words break in my throat. I tighten my grip on his arm, squirming at the feeling. Our groins meet and he grinds down further. I let out a full-blown whimper, and I hate myself for it.
This was not how I pictured this. I thought he would kill me, strangle me in my sleep. But here I am, half hard in my boxers, brushing up into Gary's hips while he licks and nips at my chest. There is more than likely a nefarious plot behind this, but right now I'm too aroused to care.
I am helpless as he trails down my stomach and hips, leaving his angry marks with fervor. Every hot breath on my skin chips at the minute amount of progress I've made, the steps I've taken toward standing up for myself. My small success is shattered, broken in the stifling closeness between us. I think that maybe I will always be the victim, that I cannot change that I will be stepped on, beaten, and tossed aside with ease. This is who I am. My chest is shallow as my breaths turn desperate. I accept.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean it." Nothing more than a whisper in the dark.
Gary stills, mouth on my skin.
"I can't fucking hear you, Peter."
We are back to our old lines, only the roles have shifted slightly. My hand finds the side of his face. Sitting up on my elbows, I clumsily place my lips over his. The air is still and so are we. It's soft, warm. Strange. I pull back.
"You're right, I'm sorry."
Hesitation. Calculations I will never be able to comprehend are playing behind those dark eyes, forming and ceasing with no apparent logic. My head hits the pillow before I know what's happening. Gary has a tight grip on my shoulders, his mouth on mine with a bruising pressure. I make a small noise but give no protests. My fingers brush lightly over his back, unsure of their destination. He delves his tongue past my lips, kissing me with an intensity that I expected no less of.
Gary stops before it's even begun, a devilish light in his eye as I struggle to catch my breath. He is flushed, lips a dark red, and I don't think I've ever been so painfully hard in my life. I try to ignore the discomfort residing in the confines of my boxers, but it's almost like the older boy can sense where my thoughts have gone. "Turn around."
I oblige, an awkward shifting mass of gangly limbs. My skin awaits his touch. I can hear him shifting behind me and I resist the urge to turn. Instead I focus on my too-fast breath, and try to calm myself. When I breathe in next, Gary's body is taut over mine, his hand holding a cloth to my nose and mouth.
Just like that, the world goes dark.
******************************************************************************** Sooooooo... Sorry the update has taken so long. I've actually had almost all of this chapter typed up forever, I just didn't know which direction I wanted it to take. But I think I've got a pretty good idea of where it's heading. Thanks to everyone for your support and I hope you're pleased with the update :)