Jeez this is my first attempt at writing a ‘story’ other than just some simple random thoughts. *sighs* I don’t know...its not all the way done but I think I left at a good point... I’ll write the juicy parts later ;)
Daron is thinking about Shavo and acts on his thoughts...
The road that leads to all leads to one</center>
The floor where he lay was cold in comparison to way his skin burnt. The sensation was not from anything that should have left a lasting impression. Rather it brought to him a constant awareness of his apparent arousal. He was alone on his living room floor, drearily reminiscing about what the days previous events. Blankly he stared, lost outside in the hazy rain, he let his mind wonder.
He ached where his friend touched him. Closing his eyes he winced as his hand followed his thoughts. “forgive me” he uttered, “for I don’t know what I feel, I can’t”. Over and over again he fought his intuitions, he fought his sanity, it took all his will to remain lying on his floor, it took all his will not to go to his desire.
A steady sweat formed on his brow, and he swelled with fever. He sighed, for he knew what he was toying with, he knew what he asked for.
Shavo smiled happily to himself, his shower felt good, it was a good release. His mind followed one thought however, the provocative embrace he imparted on his friend. Glancing out the window, he remembered this is Dars favorite weather...gloomy, dark and dreary. Settling comfortably on his couch in only a towel ready for a day of movie dwelling, he heard shuffling of feet at his door step, and then a knock. Only the gravest of smile was cast upon his face...”shit”
The door opened...and there stood daron. He shifted his weight, dropped his head to the side and looked into the eyes of his awe struck captive...
“he is so fucking beautiful”
He wasn’t just wet, he was drenched. His hair intertwined together in ebony strands; it was longer when wet and it gathered around his face adding an almost surreal look. His black shirt matted to him perfectly outlining his form. Hip bones protruded from his stripped pants that hung callously to his legs in wet folds. He was breathing hard not from running...but from something else...this showed in his merciless stare. His heavily made up eyes were running in a mixture of rain and tears. His gaze associated a hungry need, a vengeful passion and an alarming hatred. Shavo bit his lip and stepped back in realizing darons intent; his eyes went wide in frenzy. Grasping for the banister next to the stairs shavo went white.
He turned hastily around fleeing for the imagined safety of his own room. Shaking and reopening old wounds, he crouched on the floor hugging his knees to him, awaiting his certain arrival.
It took awhile for his eyes to adjust to the dark room. This was Shavos room. He breathed in the thick musky sent that he knew all too well. The room itself was a mess, the bed was a mattress on the floor, the never made sheets lay in a heap on the floor. The few lamps that were in the room were knocked over or on the ground.
“Shavarsh” more like a small hiss escaped his lips.
In return came a whimper and shuffling. Daron flipped on the lights and saw his aspiration. A small comforting smile drifted across this face and again he said his name. This time it was more like a mother speaking to a tranquil child. Seeing Shavo this way made his stomach quiver.
A lengthy streak of crimson flowed down his arm. He was sweating and shaking. His hand clenched something as he drug it across the skin of his arm, letting more crimson flow. He wasn’t watching his arm, oh no, his head rest on the wall looking at the ceiling exposing his graceful neck. His face was a mix of peaceful intentions and masking pain.
Daron moved closer, the look on his face caused shavo to quake. It was a look of longing, a look of loving. He never seen this face directed at him, let alone from daron.
On his knees Daron lightly touched shavo. He looked right into his eyes. Shavo stopped raking across his skin. Daron opened his hand and took the razor. It dripped shavos blood. His wounds were deep. Daron put the razor on his tongue all the while looking at shavo and closed his mouth. He went in for a kiss and Shavo hungrily met his lips. Slipping his hand behind Darons neck pushing him forward the razor cut deep. Blood flowed freely between them. Daron moved up against the wall pressing shavo. He broke off the bloody kiss and spat the razor out. Blood dripped off shavos lips, but flowed from Darons. Shavo was still dizzy from the loss of blood but licked his lips to get another taste of Daron.
All he could think of was the sting of the razor and the flush of Shavos thirsty lips. He rushed forward pinning shavo on the wall he took his wounded arm and flung it up. Still looking him in his wide eyes, he let his tongue slowly follow the trail of blood. Shavo let a whimper of sheer delight escape his lips. He seized Darons open shirt and tore it off. He let his nails go deep and Daron winced, still drawing blood from his arm.
Shavo bit his lip and forced daron off from his arm, they stood for a moment looking eagerly at each other, breathing like mad. With his hand still grabbing the dark hair, he thrust daron on his lips and they met again for another hungry kiss. Soft moans were given off by each of them adding fuel for the other to please even more. The kiss tasted of blood and lust.
tell me whatcha think and if i should write more *runs and buries her head under her pillow*