This is a short story I wrote when I felt a little inspired by something, it's my second short story that I've attempted and finished so I hope you like it!
The storm hit hard.
Outside, the entire expanse of streets, homes, buildings and trees seemed lost amidst a winter wonderland of sorts. Snow as puffy as billowy white clouds on a warm summer day filled the horizon and a sky as murky as dirty bathwater catered to the whims of the gloom loving folk.
Perhaps to some it may have seemed utterly despairing and rather happiness-sucking, but as Rick hurriedly made his way to his apartment, it wasn't the obscurity that bothered him. It was the cold biting wind that cut right into his skin. The gloom he could deal with, he could appreciate on some freaky level, the cold--not so much.
Rick opened the door to his apartment, opted for the stairs instead of the elevator and ran up the steps with a long stride, skipping a few steps here and there. Upon throwing his door open and entering his apartment, his jacket was thrown across the cream sofa and his sneakers chucked into the closet.
"Fuck my life," he muttered to himself as he ran into the bathroom to take a shower. The thought of hot water on his frozen flesh almost had him moaning. It never snowed that much this early in December, he thought. So when he'd taken a look out and felt like taking a walk, he hadn't thought twice about it. Only that it had ended up being fucking freezing outside...
Once out of the shower, Rick ran a comb through his long brown hair and slipped into comfortable clothing that clearly conveyed his decision of spending the rest of the evening in the warmth of his apartment. So when the phone rang minutes later, he simply let it ring, not caring to pick it up. Only it didn't stop. It kept ringing. Even after he'd finished with his hair and was sitting down, it didn't stop.
He opened up an old sketchbook he kept nearby and peered through the sketches until he came across one he'd made years and years ago and then placed in this one. It was of a beautiful person, regal and stoic features were etched on paper permanently. He sighed, and closed it again. Such a beautiful face, such gorgeous almond eyes. It wasn't the time for mulling over the past.
Eventually, the incessant sound got to him so he threw the sketchbook he'd just picked up on the table and picked it up. "Hello?"
"Finally!" Came a cheerful but slightly annoyed voice. Sam. Figured. He hadn't called in a few days and was probably just checking in.
"Hey, Sam." He said politely but with a trace of enthusiasm in his voice.
"Why aren't you answering your phone?" Sam wondered, but didn't let Rick answer and kept on going. "I've been calling you every few minutes."
"Um, I just got home." Rick said. It wasn't a lie. He had just gotten home...
"I have something important to tell you, gosh. You, like, finally answered. I was freaking out here, thinking that maybe you were going through that mood when you can't even hear the phone." Sam said. He was, of course, speaking about Rick's tendency to become so lost in a piece he was doing that occaisonally his mind simply left out annoying sounds like the door and telephone.
Rick rolled his eyes and tapped his foot impatiently. "Wanna tell me what's so important?" Knowing Sam, he was probably going through some crisis about how he was going to fail design school. The guy was so talented but constantly got freaked out about failing. He probably didn't know what failing felt like, Rick thought bitterly before he shoved the stupid thought aside.
"Oh yeah! Oh my God," Sam said, saying it as though each word was a long drawn out sentence, "You will not believe what I'm about to tell you."
Rick waited for Sam's unconscious theatrics to subside and then waited for him to continue. When he made no move to, Rick asked again. "what is it?"
"It's Andre." Sam aid simply, finally blurting it out.
Rick had to stop himself from physically squirming at the name. Immediately upon hearing Andre's name, the stunning image of him was elicited in his mind. The guy was far too perfect and much too aware of it for his own good.
"Hmm, what about the asshole?" Rick asked, forcing a casual tone, although his heart beat a smidgen faster at the mention of Sam's friend.
"Oh come off it, you're the only person I know who thinks he's an asshole."
"No, I'm not, Julie agrees with me." Julie was the fiery haired friend Rick had made when he'd first moved in two years ago.
"She agrees to keep you happy." Sam said, failing at sounding consoling and succeeding at smugness.
"Whatever. Must you be so--."
"--Annoying? Why, yes, I must. Now, I was saying before you interrupted me...ah...yes. Rick, Andre's on his way over there."
"What?" Rick exclaimed, on his feet now. "Why? Here?"
"Yeah, honey. He's coming over and yes it's to your place and why? Hmm...the guy clearly has the hots for you. He's totally going to either seduce you or make you have dinner with him from what I could gather."
"What?" Rick said yet again. "Who does that?"
"Uh, are you telling me no one has ever tried to seduce you before?"
"Uh, no they haven't."
"You are missing out, my friend. Seduction can be so thoroughly enjoyable," Sam said.
"That's beside the point," Rick cut in, "I kind of have a problem here." His heart beat wildly and he stared at the closed door. He knew how Andre felt; he'd known it the first time they'd met, within minutes of words being exchanged. There was something between them that just downright sizzled whenever they happened to be in a room together. He hadn't missed it. Neither had Andre...
He saw the way Andre watched him, and he felt himself getting hot at the thought of that cool gaze observing his movements. Rick shut his eyes, fighting the dark fantasies that invaded his mind at night. Sam's voice cut across in good time. "I know you got off to a bad start but even I could sense the attraction."
"He knows how I feel."
"What?" Sam exclaimed.
"I said he knows how I feel. I clearly told him I wasn't interested."
"What is wrong with you? The guy is gorgeous and he only wants to date you, not possess your soul!" Sam exclaimed.
"I'm not interested," Rick said simply. There was knocking on the door. Both lines went dead silent before Sam finally broke it by saying, "You going to get that?"
Rick sighed. "Yes, I'll be fine. I'll be calm and I'll tell him I'm not interested...again."
"Uh," Sam chuckled, "Alright. Good luck and remember to call me."
Rick hung up and took a deep breath before walking over and opening the door. Andre Deveraux stood on the doorstep. His pale blond hair was mussed; cheeks slightly pink from the cold and high cheek bones and stern jaw were set in a slight grimace. A dusting of snow powdered the wide shoulders of his black jacket. Teal eyes flickered across the room behind Rick before settling on him.
"Hi," Rick said, making no move to let andre in. He hated how he sounded slightly breathless.
"Hey." Andre's full lips settled into a slight smile that made Rick feel like a jerk for pushing so many of his buttons just because it annoyed him that he was so perfect and attractive. He wasn't that bad, he had to admit. "Thought you didn't hear the first time," he heard Andre saying, "I was going to uh, knock again but you, uh, opened it...so yeah..."
"Oh...yeah, right. I was just, uh, on the phone..." Rick grimaced as a telltale flicker of color tinted the skin of his cheekbones.
"Ah, I see." Andre nodded, awareness flashing into his eyes. A change overtook his features. It was almost as if his entire demeanor changed.
"Well, it's obvious Sam called to tell you I was coming and why, so I won't bother explaining."
"Uh, yeah," Rick said awkwardly, unsure of whether Andre was upset with Sam.
Andre took a step forward, "Can I come in?"
Rick froze and simply stared at him a full minute before he came to his senses. "Yeah, um, I mean...Andre, I don't think that would be okay--."
"--It's so obvious you're not even going to give me a shot." Andre rolled his eyes.
"Well, you see--," he began, but did not finish that sentence. Andre had taken two quick steps forward and then all of a sudden lips pressed against his, arms wrapped around, behind, pulling him closer to a hard body encased in a cool jacket. Andre was kissing him. And with that thought in mind, a low moan escaped his throat as his barrier began to slip. Fingers fisted into Andre's hair, he leaned up on his tip toes so he could press closer against that hot body.
"Mmm," He moaned into Andre's mouth. Andre chuckled lightly before nipping Rick's bottom lip, then kissing him slow and sweet, almost gently. Andre's hands were possessive and bold, and the way they were moving over his body almost made him feel like he was being man-handled. By God, Rick loved it. He leaned into Andre as his lips slipped away from his and rested in the hollow of andre's neck. He closed his eyes while Andre perused his body.
Fuck, he was hot. No one else made him this hot, no one but Andre. He wanted to get fucked up the ass by Andre so badly and it had been like that within minutes of meeting him. He'd wanted Andre to bend him over something and pound into him and that's what he wanted now, so badly he almost ached for his cock. He hadn't been able to help himself; Andre made him want to get hammered into.
"Andre," Rick moaned, as Andre's hands grabbed his ass. It had been so, so long; way too long and he needed it.
The sound of his name from Rick's mouth was enough to make Andre pause. "Hmm?"
Rick didn't think twice, it was so fast. He'd become too hot too fast and it was past time for rational thought. "Fuck me." He said.
"What?" Andre untangled himself and took a few steps away, running frustrated hands through his hair. Rick bit his lip and watched him move hungrily.
With Andre away again, it was all too easy to think a bit once more. Rick looked at the ground embarrassedly. Clearly, Andre didn't want to. "Uh, never mind."
"No, no, don't put those walls up again." Andre turned back around.
"What?" Rick asked.
"You heard me, and you know what I'm talking about," Andre raised an eyebrow, "The first time we met, I knew you wanted me to fuck you badly. I could also see that you hated that you did and you were horribly rude to me but I was still nice. Still, I've been bearing it for way too long. Every fucking time we have to be in a room together, you--you look at me like you'd like nothing better than to--to bend over or something. Yet you just wouldn't open up to me or even try to get along."
"What?" Rick gaped, color filling his cheeks. "I looked like I wanted to bend over? What the hell?
"Yes, Rick, you really did." Andre said amusedly. "And believe me, I would have liked nothing better."
"Oh," Rick blushed again and cursed himself.
"I don't know what Sam told you, but I'm here because I cannot fucking stop thinking about you." Andre said rather agitatedly, walking up to him now and looking into Rick's eyes as if pleading with him.
Rick didn't know what to say again. "Oh." He managed.
"Yeah," Andre chuckled, "You're obviously not going to give me a chance," Andre said, half deflated. There was a twinkle in his eye that made Rick falter slightly though.
"What do you mean for? I don't just want to fuck you silly, I do actually like you." It was unusual for Rick to be told bold things so easily like that so he had to look away from Andre's eyes a few seconds.
"Um, okay." Rick said.
"You really do fail at speaking, don't you?"
Rick shrugged, "I'm alright, sometimes."
Andre reached out and took hold of Rick's hand. "I'll take you up on your offer."
Andre pulled him close, pressed his lips to Rick's ear, and whispered, "I'll fuck you so hard you won't be able to walk a week. What do you say to that?"
And when Andre leaned back to see the look on Rick's face, he had to chuckle." I take that as a yes."
"Uh, I have to call Sam."
"Later," Andre mumbled as he slid Rick's shirt up.
"Ohhhhh," Rick moaned, gasping for breath and fisting his hands into the mattress in front of him. Andre was one horrible bastard. He'd fucked him so hard, Rick hadn't been able to stop moaning, then he'd fucked him again, and now he was fucking him slowly, tantalizingly, and it was torture. Rick couldn't get enough of Andre's cock. He wanted Andre to pound into him mercilessly, not care about hurting him but just fuck him.
Andre knew how to fuck, he knew how to push Rick over the edge now, how to keep him on the cusp of orgasm and watch him writhe. He liked it, liked knowing he was the one who made Rick look and feel like that. It made him feel in control and whether Rick had identified it yet or not; Andre knew Rick wanted him to be in control. It was so obvious, the guy wanted to get dominated, so he'd done that, and boy had Rick loved it. Afterwards, he'd lovingly kissed every inch of his skin until he'd come down.
Andre had known Rick would be like this in bed, that he'd want to be fucked like that.
Rick moaned as Andre slid in again, the pain was much less now, but he liked the sting, he always had. But he wouldn't think about old times now. This was Andre fucking him.
"Mmm, baby," Andre said in his ear, "You love getting fucked don't you? You're a natural bottom, you take it so well." With those words, Andre withdrew and thrust back in hard and deep all of a sudden.
Rick gasped and shut his eyes, "Yes, yes, yes," he moaned out as Andre increased his pace and began pounding into him. He loved when Andre talked to him like that. Rick didn't push back onto Andre's cock, but rather took Andre's cock deep in his ass happily.
Within minutes, Andre was fucking him brutally hard again. He reached out and grasped onto Rick's long hair, pulling his head back slightly. Rick made a lot of noise: a lot of, "Mmm," and "Yeah, yeah," and, "Fuck me."
Andre was only too happy to comply; he loved the sounds Rick made.
Rick reached orgasm beautifully, groaning, reaching out to grab hold of Andre's arm, he came. A beat later, Andre emptied himself into Rick's ass.
Rick was cold when he woke up the next morning. When he tried to get up, he discovered his backside was really, really sore. The events of the previous night didn't need to come back to him; he had not misplaced them for even a fraction of second.
Andre wasn't in bed next to him. Figures, Rick thought, he'd probably gone home after all. Rick told himself what he was feeling wasn't disappointment, and if it was, it was because Andre was such a good fuck. After all, he might as well have gone home last night...except Rick had fallen asleep so fast and wrapped himself around Andre so easily.
After Rick had mindlessly taken a shower, he walked to the kitchen and opened the fridge. What he didn't notice though, was that Andre was sitting behind him at the kitchen table, watching his boxer clad form in amusement.
Andre cleared his throat.
Rick prided himself later for not jumping and turned around easily. "Oh, I thought you'd left."
"Hopeful?" Andre raised an eyebrow. When Rick simply stared at him, he rolled his eyes, "Coffee's beside you."
"Oh, thanks," Rick grabbed some, and then peered over at Andre, "What are you eating?"
"Nothing, just coffee."
"Oh," Rick said, feeling rooted to the spot.
"Yes, `oh.' I don't eat breakfast."
"Oh, okay," Rick said, grabbing a bagel and popping each half into the toaster. "Do you, um, want some?"
"Very sweet, but no thanks." Andre said, eyes twinkling. "You're acting so funny. You'd think after getting fucked repeatedly by me last night, you'd be able to speak to me properly this morning."
Rick's cheeks reddened, but he held his chin up, "I thought you'd be out the door by now," His eyes flashed.
"Oh, ouch," Andre grimaced, but then smiled jovially. "You're sexy when you show attitude. Mmm, makes me want to discipline you." Andre's eyes simmered with unabandoned heat as he looked down the length of Rick's toned body. "And that hair, dear god."
Rick reached a hand up self-consciously, "What about it?" He said in a hardened voice. That comment about discipline, had Rick interested though. He'd never been able to resist bed-play like that. It seemed like Andre's tastes were very finely in tune with his. Great...
"Only that seeing it makes me want to fuck you all over again with my hands wrapped up in it." Andre said almost matter-of-factly, taking a sip of his coffee.
Rick didn't know what to say. All it took was one sentence from Andre and he was hot all over again. Rick was flustered, but tried not to show it as he carried his bagel and coffee to the table. "Do you always talk like that?"
"Yep," Andre said, "Why, do you like it?" He asked mischievously.
"No," Rick said quickly.
"No?" Andre raised an eyebrow.
"That's what I said, I think." Rick rolled his eyes.
"I wonder who that was last night then, the one that went wild anytime I said something dirty." Andre thought aloud.
"I did not go wild," Rick said, and then rolled his eyes, "Fine, I like it when you talk dirty to me."
It was Andre's turn to be speechless. He had his mouth open as if to form a sentence, but nothing was coming out. Rick laughed loudly at the look on Andre's face.
"Thank you," Andre said suddenly.
"Letting me see you laugh," Andre said sheepishly, "You're always frowning around me."
"Oh," Rick looked down at his plate. "Yeah, no problem..."
"So," Andre began.
"So," Rick said.
The phone rang. Rick breathed a sigh of relief at the sound of the phone for the first time in his life. "I'll get that." He said, as he walked over to the living room and picked it up. "Hello?"
"Rick!" Sam said.
"Thank god you called," Rick whispered.
"Aww, how sweet! Wait, why are you whispering? Oh, oh! He's there? Rick, why's he there? Oh, oh! He stayed the night! Rick why'd he stay the night? Oh, oh, oh my god, you fucked him! Well, you'll call me back after, you're probably busy. Bye!" Just like that, Sam hung up without letting Rick even get a word in. He debated over calling him back, and then decided not to.
When he turned around, he saw Andre with his back to him. His tall, lithe figure was rigidly beautiful. He probably heard him approaching because he asked, "Who is this?"
Rick walked over to see Andre with his sketchbook in hand, looking at something. "What are you looking at?"
Andre held out the sketchbook. "Oh," Rick said as his eyes took in the particular sketch Andre held. Rick cleared his throat, "That's um, Matt."
Andre raised an eyebrow, "I see."
"What?" Rick asked defensively.
"This is obviously someone special to you if you've kept it all this time. According to this date, it's eight years old. You made this when you were eighteen. It's also not as good as your newer pieces, like that one that was featured at the gallery two weeks ago."
"Uh, yeah, well I was younger." Rick said. "Anyway, that doesn't really mean anything to me. I don't know why I've kept it all this time. You could rip it up and I wouldn't care." Rick forced a smile.
"Really?" Andre ripped the paper out and shredded it in half, then raised an eyebrow.
Rick gaped. "Oh my goodness! Why would you do that?"
"But you just said you wouldn't care if I ripped it in half."
"Obviously I said that! Oh my Goodness, you fucking asshole!" Rick snatched his sketchbook from Andre.
"So you do care?" Andre asked softly.
"Yes," Rick whispered, tears threatening to form. He tried to turn around but Andre grasped his shoulder and pulled him close. "It's all I have of him."
"Who is he?" Andre asked calmly, still holding him gently.
"I told you, his name is Matt."
"That's not who he is, that's his name. Who is he? Who was he to you?"
"I-I loved him."
"Just, gone." Rick said. "Gone."
"Is he why you're so defensive?"
Rick laughed bitterly, "He's a part of it."
"And the other part?" Andre asked, knowing he'd never get a chance like this again, to know about Rick.
"My existence, my mother, my invisible father, abuse, failure."
Andre tried to make sense of that, and though he couldn't completely grasp it, he knew this guy had been hurt badly. His heart ached for Rick. He held him closer. He would know Rick better, he would understand, and then he'd make it right again.
"Don't you think you should let go?"
"Yes," Rick clutched at Andre, not wanting to be released, feeling his heart open up for the first time in years. He felt weight lift off his shoulders.
"I'm going to go throw this piece of paper out." Andre said, releasing Rick.
"So, how'd it go?" Sam had asked as soon as he'd picked up the hone a few days later.
"I let him...do stuff." Rick said.
"I knew it, you guys fucked!" Sam exclaimed cheerily. "So..."
"How was it?"
"Yes, Rick?" Sam asked in a bored voice.
"It was fantastic."
Sam was silent a second.
"Did you hear me? I said it was fantastic!" Rick said in a very happy tone, uncharacteristic of his usual tone of voice.
"Holy Mother of fuck, he must have been amazing..."
"And you're admitting it."
"Yep." Rick walked over to the window and opened the curtains wide. It was really, really sunny outside, and the sky was a gorgeous blue. The snow was beautifully pale and colorless as the beams of sunlight flitted off of it. Seemed like the storm was on its way out.
"So you're dating now?"
"I told him I wasn't interested."
"Rick! How could you? The guy is a freaking God."
"But," Rick added, "He never believed me anyway."
Check out my other story: /nifty/gay/highschool/sparkling-combustion/
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