Free reads: Valentine's Day

Josh and Damian's first Valentine's Day

Valentine's Day

February 14th, 2004

"Do you know what day it is today?"

Damian tilted his head to the side and up so he could look at Josh. "Saturday?"

Josh's tentative smile disappeared to be replaced by a slight frown. "Well, yeah …"

What had Damian forgotten? Damian glanced down at the books he'd been immersed in, his thoughts spinning.

"Just forget it." Josh shrugged. "It wasn't anything important." A brief smile flickered over his lips before he turned and walked into Damian's bedroom.

Damian stood up from the couch. He wanted to go after him, but Josh was upset about something and Damian didn't know what he was upset for.

He headed over to Silver's door and knocked. He pushed it open when Silver called for him to enter. Silver was sprawled on his bed, with a sketchbook and a pencil in hand.

"What's up, mate?"

"What day is it today?" Damian crossed his arms over his chest.

"Valentine's Day," was the quick answer. Silver raised his eyebrows. "Don't tell me you've forgotten about Valentine's Day, D? It's your first V-day with Josh."

"I haven't forgotten. It's just … slipped my mind. What's so special about it, anyway?" Damian hunched over slightly, feeling guilty. Josh obviously thought something was important about it, judging by his expression when he'd left the living room.

"It's a day for lovers to, you know, express their love more thoroughly than any other day in the year. You have no idea how many couples were at the studio today, getting all kinds of lovey tattoos done. It's quite depressing really when you're single." Silver shrugged. "Anyway, you should go apologize if you haven't done anything. Normal people tend to think Valentine's a big deal, you know."

"Thanks a lot, mate," Damian replied dryly as he turned away.

"You're welcome," Silver replied with a chuckle.

Damian headed back into his own room. Josh was sitting on the bed, tickling with a small box in his hands. He put it away when he caught sight of Damian, hiding it behind his back.

Damian sat down next to Josh on the soft bed. "I'm sorry. I'm not good at this."

"I know it's not your thing." Josh smiled slightly.

Damian's chest tightened. Josh always tried so very hard to downplay his own feelings and Damian hated it. He wanted to fix it, to do something for Josh, but he didn't know what. He'd never done this kind of thing before. He was fumbling around in the dark.

"I got you something though." Josh reached behind him and took out the little box he'd been fumbling with when Damian had entered. "I don't know if you'll like it, or if you'll wear it, but I saw it and I thought of you, so …"

Damian covered Josh's fumbling hands with his own. "You didn't have to buy me anything, but thanks." He took the box and flipped it open. Inside was a thin, silver bracelet. There was nothing extravagant about it, it was plain and simple and exactly how Damian preferred.

Now Damian felt even worse for not having realized what day it was. "Thank you, Josh." He bent over and hugged Josh tightly. "I'm so sorry I didn't realize what day it was."

"It's okay, Damian. I know this is not your thing, all the romantic aspects that's expected on a day like this." Josh hugged him back tightly.

"You should tell me when there's something you're looking forward to." Damian drew back so he could meet Josh's green eyes. "Like Valentine's Day. It's better to tell me beforehand, so I'll know. I have no idea what I'm doing, so … just being told would be nice."

Josh's smile grew a bit in size. "You know, I like that you're kind of clueless. I am too, really. Guess we both just have to figure this out as we go along."

Damian slid his hand up Josh's arm and over his shoulder to cup the back of his neck. "I love you." Those words were probably what he had the easiest time with, because they were true. He did love Josh. So very much, even after only half a year together. It was everything else he had issues with.

Josh leaned in towards him. His smile had turned soft, fond. "I love you too, Damian. So very much."

Josh kissed him then and Damian relaxed into it, like he'd eventually learned to do. He loved kissing Josh. Josh's lips were soft and warm and pliant.

"Happy Valentine's Day," Josh murmured against his lips.

"I'm going to do better next year," Damian promised.

"Mmm," Josh hummed as he grabbed a hold of the front of Damian's t-shirt. "I think you're doing pretty well right now."

Damian chuckled at that but went willingly when Josh pulled him with him back down on the bed. Their lips met again and Damian couldn't think of a better way to spend Valentine's.

Free reads: Red Roses

Apparently anniversaries have to be celebrated

Red Roses

Summer, 2004

"Flowers?"

Damian cast a glance over at Silver.

"Not flowers." Silver pointed in exasperation. "Roses."

"Why roses?" Damian couldn't believe he was standing in a flower shop with his best friend looking at bouquets of flowers. What was so special about flowers?

"It's your anniversary!" Silver stared at him with his eyebrows raised. "You have to get him something and red roses are perfect! They're the flowers of love."

"That is so cheesy." Why buy flowers as a gift? They'd eventually wither and die, and it would happen sooner rather than later.

"You want my help or not?" Silver was exasperated. "Your anniversary is today and you haven't gotten him anything else."

Damian looked at him. "Why make such a big deal about being together for a year? What's the point? It's not his birthday."

"Damian." Silver turned his head up and he seemed to gather himself for a moment before he looked back down at Damian. "An anniversary is a big deal. You've been together for a year and it has to be celebrated! If you last another year, you do it all over again. It's part of being in a relationship."

How should Damian know that? He'd never been in one before. This was all so new to him and Josh hadn't ever mentioned anything about gift giving on anniversaries. He knew his uncle and aunt got each other gifts on theirs or went out to dinner, but that was their wedding anniversary. Apparently it was different when you weren't married; you celebrated the day you got together.

"You should definitely buy a bouquet of red roses, but you should also buy something else. A gift that'll last longer." Silver's eyes scanned the shop, but as it was a flower shop Damian couldn't fathom how he could find anything lasting in here. "How about buying him a bracelet?"

"I don't think that'll be very comfortable for his scars." Or new cuts that showed up from time to time. "Something that goes on his arms are generally a bad idea."

"What about a neck chain then? Or a pendant, or something like that?"

That was a better idea. "Josh hasn't said anything about gifts." Josh would have told him if it was expected, wouldn't he?

"Come on, mate. This is not something your boyfriend is going to tell you." Silver clapped him on the shoulder. "Buy a bouquet of roses, Damian. Be a little romantic. Then we'll head off to a jewelry store and look at neck chains or something like that." He picked up a bouquet and looked at it critically. "Seriously, what would you do without me?"

Damian was wondering the very same thing. He hadn't really thought much about today, to be honest. When he'd told Silver that he and Josh had been together for a year today, Silver had been shocked to hear that Damian hadn't gotten Josh anything. So here they were, in a flower shop, buying roses.

To think that he'd already been with Josh for a year. It was unbelievable, really, that Damian had managed to keep a relationship steady for so long. Unbelievable … and amazing.

Damian supposed gift giving wasn't so bad after all. Not when the gifts were to Josh. Josh deserved so much, maybe more than Damian could give him. This wasn't so bad, he thought as he paid for the bouquet Silver had picked out, especially not if it made Josh happy.

There was nothing Damian liked more than making Josh happy.

Free read: Scars (6/6)

People can be kind without expecting anything in return.
This is Scarred Souls, from Josh's point of view.

Scars

continued ...

Josh sighed and drew his knees up. He wrapped his arms around them and rested his forehead against his kneecaps. "I'm sorry. I'm such a mess. I'm high and I'm low and I'm very rarely in the middle. You shouldn't have to deal with me." Josh wasn't very good at taking his antidepressants.

"You're not leaving. You're in no shape to go anywhere." His voice had gone stern. "Let's go get something to eat." He pushed himself up on his feet and stretched his hand down to Josh.

Josh looked at it for a moment before taking it, letting the guy help him up from the floor. "You shouldn't have to deal with me."

"I chose to go over to you. I chose to ask you to come home with me. It was my choice. Now come on."

Josh trailed after him into the kitchen. His friend, his roommate, was sitting at the table with a sketchbook in front of him. A pencil dangled from his fingers.

"Hey."

He—Silver?—looked up. His grey eyes were full of laughter. "Hey."

"This is Josh."

Silver nodded at Josh. "I've seen you before."

It clicked then. Josh shuffled uncomfortably. "Y-yeah, you're ... you're Vincent's brother."

"Vincent?" Azure eyes locked on Josh again.

"My psychiatrist." Josh had been going to Vincent for the past three years, ever since he'd been released from the hospital. His mum had set up the appointment and had to almost push him through his door. It had been good though, Josh and Vincent had clicked. Vincent was good, he got Josh. More than anyone else ever had. He was patient, didn't pressure Josh to talk. He all around good.

Josh was aware of the two exchanging talk, but he didn't snap back into before Silver got up form the table and left the kitchen. Josh looked after his back before stepping up to the counter. "So ... You're roommate is my psychiatrist's brother. The world sure is small. What are the odds in the middle of London?"

"Well, Soho is only a small part of London. We decided to find a place here because of Silver. I didn't really care where we lived as long as it wasn't that fae away from my job."

"He's gay?" Soho was known as the gay district of London, after all, with all the clubs and shops catering to the homosexual crowd.

"Yeah."

Josh went to sit down at the vacated chair. "Where do you work?"

"Harriet's Diner," he replied without turning around from the counter. Josh watched him cut open two noodle packages and empty the powder into the water he'd prepared.

"Really?" That surprised Josh a little. "Harriet is Chad's aunt."

"Chad?" He sounded like he didn't know who Josh was talking about.,

"Yeah, you know, Chad, from group. The redhead." Josh didn't hang out with any of the guys from group, he didn't have the energy to make and contain friends, but he did know each and every one of them inside out. Just they like knew Josh. That was the thing about group therapy.

"Right."

Josh was amused. "You didn't recognize him? How long have you worked there?"

"For a year. I'm sorry, I just don't really pay attention to people."

"Why not?"

"No one's really caught my attention before." He shrugged. "Until today." He turned slightly and met Josh's eyes head on. "You caught my attention. You looked so miserable, sitting under that tree in the rain like that."

Josh was surprised at the admission. Surprised and very, very pleased. "I caught the attention of the guy who doesn't really pay attention?" He tilted his head to the side and smiled. "That's quite a compliment."

He didn't say anything, but Josh thought he saw a small smile play over his lips. Josh liked the sight of that.

"Hey." Something dawned on Josh then. "You know my name."

"Yeah." He looked at Josh weirdly at that. "Doc said it."

Josh blinked. She probably had, he couldn't remember. "I don't know yours." He definitely knew that though.

A bigger smile flitted over his lips at that. "I'm Damian."

Free read: Scars (5/6)

People can be kind without expecting anything in return.
This is Scarred Souls, from Josh's point of view.

Scars

continued ...

"Does blood bother you?" Josh looked up at him curiously.

"No." He shook his head and crouched down in front of Josh. "I'm starting medical school in the fall. I want to be a surgeon. Blood doesn't bother me. What does is that you do this to yourself. They'll never go again, the scars."

"I know." Josh stared down at his forearms. He turned them over slowly, showing the guy that the undersides were just as bad, maybe even worse. The skin over Josh's wrists was even more of a mess than all the rest of his skin. The deep scars slashed across each other. They were proper scars though, he hadn't cut over his wrist since he was fifteen years old and trying to kill himself. "So medical school, huh? You must be really smart."

He started washing Josh's arms with a hot washcloth. "I do the best I can. It's what I want to do."

"You're lucky, then. I don't know what I want to do. I'm just a mess." A mess who'd most likely failed his A-levels. He'd sat them, but he didn't think he'd gotten anything logical down on them.

Azure eyes met his. "You'll figure it out."

"Just like you, I want to help people. But I want to help people like me, who've been abused and cut and all that shit. But ... I'm a complete mess myself. How can I even begin to help someone else?"

"You could begin by going to school." He finished washing up the blood.

"And study psychology? When I don't even understand my own?" Josh chuckled bitterly. "Thank you."

"For what?" He dabbed some sterilizer on another washcloth. It burned as he ran it over Josh's cuts and Josh hissed.

"For being so kind to me. No one has ever been this kind to me. Not even when they expected sex. Which you don't."

"No, I don't," he agreed.

Josh couldn't help thinking it was weird, even if it was nice. "Why not? Why don't you want it? Are you in a relationship?" He had to have a reason.

"No, I'm not." He started wrapping new, clean, sterile gauze around Josh's arms, being careful not to press over his cuts. "I just ... I just don't want it."

He did though. He had been hard earlier, maybe he was even hard still. Josh watched him in silence, as his arms were wrapped up not to tight. His hair really was black, Josh noticed. He'd thought maybe it had only seemed like it, but it was a true black. He wondered if it would be soft or coarse to the touch. Josh startled when the guy suddenly lifted his head and azure eyes met his own.

"What?"

"I'm sorry, but I ... I can't help myself." Josh really couldn't. He bent forward and kissed him again, and it startled the guy so much that he lost his balance and fell back on the floor. Josh followed, landing atop him with a small chuckle before he kissed him again.

Hands grabbed at Josh's waist and he finally started to reciprocate. He felt awkward, and Josh realized that maybe he hadn't done much kissing in his life, but he did well enough. Well enough for Josh. Josh really liked the feel of him kissing back.

Slam!

They froze in mid-kiss, their eyes opening. Josh stared down into his surprised, azure eyes. "Are you expecting company?"

"No." Josh's waist was gripped tighter. "No, it must be—"

The bathroom door opened and the guy had only taken one step inside before he stopped in his tracks. Josh looked up and the guy he was sprawled atop twisted around slightly to look up to. The newcomer stared back, eyes wide. He was one handsome piece of man; big, broad-shouldered and muscled with black hair and grey eyes. He looked familiar. "Okay, so ... enjoy yourselves." And with that he walked right back out again and closed the door behind him.

"Who was that?" Josh looked back down into azure depths.

"That was Silver. My best friend and roommate." The guy pushed himself up on his elbows, forcing Josh to sit up straighter as well. He seemed kind of dazed.

"I'm sorry." Josh climbed off his lap. "I shouldn't have jumped you like that." It had been good though. So good.

He licked his bottom lip and Josh's eyes zeroed in on it. "We shouldn't be doing this. I ... It was nice, it really was. But you ... you're not having a very good day, remember?"

"Of course I remember. I'm trying to forget." Josh could've been without the whole day, frankly, except when he'd been kissing this guy ... then he hadn't minded so much.

He sighed. "This is not the way to do it."

"Then how am I going to forget?"

"Not by doing what you're trying to forget in the first place. I'd say that's counter-productive." His voice was so calm.

Free read: Scars (4/6)

People can be kind without expecting anything in return.
This is Scarred Souls, from Josh's point of view.

Scars

continued ...

"Why were you in the park? You'd been crying ..."

"I was late for group today because I was in court. They read the sentence today. That bastard got eight years in prison. A lousy eight years for making my childhood a living hell." It wasn't fair. Wasn't fair at all. Josh had been terrified doing this, was still terrified, but he'd hoped to lock Andrew away for a great many years. Eight years ... it wasn't enough.

"When did the abuse stop?"

"When I was fifteen. I tried to kill myself. I told mum then and she ... she believed me." Josh had been terrified that she wouldn't. Andrew had always told him she wouldn't. "I was so afraid to tell her because I wasn't sure if she would believe me or not, but she did. And she's done so much for me ever since. I wish I could get better for her, that I could stop being such a mess, but ... I can't do it." Josh gave a bitter laugh. "I just continue to fuck up. Like today. I had to cut—I went crazy."

"I think maybe today is justified. That ridiculous sentence ... anyone would've fallen apart."

"Yeah ..." That's why Josh had hoped to get to group. It was easier to fall apart there than to fall apart on his own. It never ended well when he was alone with his feelings. Never. "So ... um ... why are you suddenly in group? Why do you eat too much and throw it up afterwards?"

He hesitated. Josh started thinking when he wasn't going to share he finally spoke. "My mother tried to kill me." He seemed surprised to have even spoken aloud, so Josh kept silent, letting him work through it. "She killed my dad, my little sisters, she thought she'd killed me, and then she killed herself."

Josh blinked. "Oh, wow." He didn't know what else to say. He didn't know what to say period. That sounded so much worse than Josh's circumstances, somehow.

He chuckled slightly. "Yeah. It's unbelievable. It's the kind of thing that happens in movies and in fiction. But it happened to me in real life."

"I'm sorry." Josh was. No one should have to experience that. Loosing their whole family in such a tragic way ...

"It's been a long time." He seemed kind of surprised at himself and Josh guessed he didn't often tell people about this. Maybe he didn't tell people at all. Josh felt special all of a sudden, knowing that the guy had confided in him. No one confided in Josh, no one bothered with Josh, he wasn't worth anything. This guy had and that made Josh happier than anything else. "So why can't you go home?"

"Because everyone's there and they're fussing and they don't know what to really say to me, so it's all awkward." Josh shifted his feet up in front of him and curled up further.

"Who's everyone?" He turned now so that he was facing Josh and the show of interest caused a flash of butterflies to let loose in Josh's stomach. "My mum, my grandma, my aunt and uncle, and my cousins. There are five of them; three older than me, one the same age and the other younger. They're just as bad as mum and grandma."

"Isn't family supposed to be bad?" He didn't seem like he was sure of it though.

"I suppose." Josh moved his hand a little. It still squeezed Damian's and now he tangled their fingers together.

His eyes flickered down. "I—If you really don't want to go home, you can stay here tonight. You can share my bed. But no, uh, sex. No sex." He was stammering and Josh found it refreshing. Here was someone who wasn't corrupted by the sins of the flesh and it was so refreshing to not feel like a convenient hole. He knew he put himself in those kinds of situation, but what else could he do? This ... this was so different and so good.

"Thank you. You're too kind." He really was. Josh didn't know what to do in return when he didn't want the one thing Josh could give.

"Can I change your gauze now?" His eyes fell to Josh's arms. "Please?"

Josh nodded. "Ok." It would be nice to be rid of the wet, soggy gauze and wrap dry, clean ones around his arms.

The guy stood and he pulled Josh with him up. Josh went willingly, his fingers gripping tightly to his. Josh didn't let him go until he sat down on the toilet seat and the guy moved over to the sink.

He found gauze and sterilizers in one of the drawers under the sink. Josh slowly unwrapped the old, wet gauze as he rummaged around. Josh heard him draw in a deep breath as he turned around and saw both of Josh's bare arms.

Free read: Scars (3/6)

People can be kind without expecting anything in return.
This is Scarred Souls, from Josh's point of view.

Scars

continued ...

"What are you doing?"

Josh was gently pushed away. "Repaying you for helping me out." Josh tilted his head to one side, studying him. "You don't want sex?"

"Wha—No!" He seemed to almost choke the words out in shock. "What makes you think that?" He twitched a little uncomfortably and his eyes flickered.

"Everybody wants sex." Josh scooted closer to him. He let his hand travel teasingly up his stomach. Maybe it wouldn't be rough after all. Maybe Josh would actually enjoy it. "You want it. I feel it. I'll give it to you." He was hard, it was confirmed as Josh let his palm drop to his crotch.

"I don't want you to repay me with sex," he exclaimed as he slapped Josh's hand away. "That—That's wrong! In so many ways. And I'm pretty sure it's illegal!"

What was with him? "Like people care." Josh put his hand back on him. "Nobody says no to sex. Are you straight?" Maybe Josh had misinterpreted the look he'd gotten. He was still hard though. Maybe he was closeted?

"No." He sounded a little sullen now.

"So you are gay?" Josh was confused. If he was gay, what was then the problem? Josh was offering him sex. Other guys would jump on it when a guy freely offered sex. Many had. Josh was actually sober now though and he might even actually enjoy it. The guy was handsome and even though his serious exterior might be a little frightening at first, he didn't seem like a got off on being cruel.

"No. I'm not anything," he snapped. His hand locked around Josh's forearm and it brought back the startling reality of Josh's life. Josh jerked back. "What's wrong with you? Have you sprained your arm or something?"

Josh's sleeve was pulled up to reveal the wet, tightly wrapped gauze. It was dotted with patches of blood. Josh looked away. Now he certainly wouldn't want to bed Josh, so most likely he'd find himself back out in the rain.

"This should be changed." A finger was touched to the gauze and Josh flinched back at the pain it caused. Josh turned his head slightly to find the guy staring at him. He resolutely unwrapped the gauze.

"No, don't—" Jos tried to protest but it was too late. The first half of his forearm was bared for the guy to see and it was not a pretty sight. There was not a single untouched piece of skin left; there were scars upon scars, cuts upon cuts. The whole mess of it overlapping.

"Is this why you're in group?" The guy was staring intently at his arm.

"Part of the reason," Josh whispered. "I have my reasons for doing this to myself. I'm not proud of this, but I just ... I can't stop it, you know?" Cutting himself had saved him so many times from the pain, the unbearable pain always left behind ... Josh gently pulled his arm out of the guy's grip. He rewrapped the gauze around his. It felt even worse now than it had before, wrapping the wet, soggy gauze back around. It made his skin crawl.

"Yeah, I kind of do know." His eyes were still on Josh's arm. "I don't cut myself, but I ... I eat a lot sometimes and then throw it up again." His head fell back to rest against the back of the sofa. He scratched at his chest.

Josh drew his feet up and tucked them under himself as he tilted his own head to the side to rest against the back of the sofa as well. "My stepfather abused me sexually for several years," he revealed. He didn't know why he was telling the guy this. Josh didn't know him. The words seemed to come of their own though. "And I've been kind of a slut. My whole life has been all about sex. I'm sorry ... I didn't mean to offend you. It's just that I'm used to everyone simply wanting sex. People don't help me without wanting something in return, and all I can give is sex." Josh certainly had nothing else going for him. Not really sex either, but well ... some people only required a willing hole to put their dick in and Josh could be that. He had been so many times.

"I don't want that from you."

"I know." Josh would've felt offended if it hadn't been such a relief. "I'm sorry for thinking you did." Josh reached out tentatively to squeeze his hand. He didn't squeeze back, but he didn't pull away either, so Josh left his hand there.

Free read: Scars (2/6)

People can be kind without expecting anything in return.
This is Scarred Souls, from Josh's point of view.

Scars

continued ...

Josh pushed himself up on his feet only to stumble as his knees protested after being folded up for so long. The guy grabbed a hold of his arm to help, but Josh hissed and jerked away as pain shot through him. He cradled his arm tight to his chest.

Azure eyes stared at him. "I'm sorry," he offered.

"No, I'm sorry." Josh covered his hurt arm with his other one, knowing full well that that too was just as cut up as the one that had been grabbed. That one currently only had a dull pain though, good pain, while the arm that had been grabbed ached so much for a moment that Josh felt his eyes tear up. "I've hurt my hand, that's all," he tried to smooth it over. "So it hurts to touch it. You couldn't know that."

"Ok. Come on." He moved his hand, holding the umbrella out towards Josh again. First then did Josh realize that he'd stepped right back out into the pelting rain.

Josh looked at him. He was handsome, Josh supposed, but so very serious. There wasn't even a hint of a smile on his lips. Would it be safe to trust him, to go home with him? Did it even really matter if it was or wasn't? Not really, Josh supposed. He was used to pain. Josh could take whatever the guy wanted. He'd most likely been through it before.

The guy kept his distance as they walked, as far as it was possible while still staying under the umbrella. He didn't speak and Josh didn't either and soon they were at his apartment. The guy unlocked it and stepped inside first to flick on the lights, then he held the door open for Josh.

"Bathroom's there." He pointed to a closed door at the other end of the room. The door led right into the living room, Josh took notice of, and at their left side was the kitchen. Besides the door he had pointed out as the bathroom, there were two other closed doors. Josh supposed one of them were the guy's bedroom. He'd probably find out soon enough. "I'll find you something dry to wear."

"Thank you." Josh had already stepped out of his wet shoes and he shuffled past the guy towards the bathroom. It was a nice sized bathroom, with white-tiled walls and a soft rug on the floor. There was a toilet, a wide sink covered with toiletries, two cabinets under it and over it, on each side of the mirror. There was also a tub, white like the rest of the room.

It was over three years ago now that Josh had lied down in a tub and slit his wrists so properly he'd hoped never to wake up again. He had woken up again, of course, in the hospital with his wrists properly bandaged up. All his secrets ... they'd come spilling out that day.

A timid knock came on the door and Josh turned to open it. The guy stood in front of him, holding out a small pile of neatly folded clothes.

"Thanks." Josh smiled slightly as he took them, grateful that the guy was doing this for him, no matter what he wanted in return.

Josh stripped out of his wet clothes and hung them over the bathtub to dry. He bit his lips as he realized his underwear was soaked too and there were only sweats and a shirt there for him to wear. Oh well, he probably wouldn't be needing underwear later, after all. Maybe that was his intent even. Josh stripped out of that too.

He found a towel to dry himself off with and then pulled on the dry, soft clothes he'd been lent. They felt wonderful against his cold, naked skin and Josh reveled against the feel of them. It was weird to be going commando though, but the sweats were thick and baggy. His bandages though ... he didn't know what to do with them. He'd just have to let them be.

Josh stepped back out of the bathroom and the guy turned his head to look at him. His eyes seemed to take Josh in and Josh found himself strangely pleased as he noticed that the guy liked what he saw. When the guy seemed to realize he was staring, he turned back to the television.

Josh moved uncomfortably towards the couch, not quite knowing what to do. The guy had liked what he saw. Why wasn't he already demanding Josh to suck him off for being so nice to him? Was he shy?

"What?" He turned to look at Josh again, voice slightly rough.

"Nothing. Just ..." Josh bent forward to press their lips together in a soft, chaste kiss. The guy didn't move, he sat frozen for several long moments as Josh continued kissing him.

Free read: Scars (1/6)

People can be kind without expecting anything in return.
This is Scarred Souls, from Josh's point of view.

Scars

June, 2003

It was raining. He knew it was. He could feel the cold drops against his skin and soaking into his clothes. He could feel the cold, knew that it wouldn't be good for him to sit out in this weather, but he just didn't care.

The cold drops of rain mingled with the hot, salty tears on his face. His back was pressed up against the big tree trunk, his ass was firmly planted in the soggy grass and he had his arms wrapped around his drawn-up knees.

The cold actually felt nice. At least he felt it. At least he felt something. Something other than the numbness that had been a constant in him lately. His shirt was thin and soaked through like the rest of him. The bandages wrapped tightly around his arms were soaked as well and the cuts underneath burned.

Josh didn't mind because he felt it. He wanted to feel something other than the numbness. He didn't like the numbness, even though it had kept him going through the trial. It had only broken after the verdict had been read, after Josh had taken his razor to his arms in a frenzy. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair at all ...

A shadow fell over him and a moment later the rain stopped pelting down. Josh blinked up through rain and tears and saw a guy his own age standing over him. His hair was pitch-black and straight and his eyes ... they were a deep, azure blue. Josh had never seen such blue eyes before.

"You ..." Josh blinked again as recognition flashed through him. "You were with Doc earlier." Josh had hoped to make it to group after the trial, he'd done his very best to get there before it was over. It was only in group he ever felt a sliver of calm, ever felt a sliver of being normal. He hadn't made it. Doc had been there when he'd entered, but the rest of the guys had been gone. Only him had been there, talking to her. Josh had never seen him before and yet here he was again. Twice in one day.

"Yeah." The guy stepped a little closer. The umbrella now covered both of them. "Why are you sitting out in the rain? Shouldn't you go home?"

Josh wrapped his arm around his middle, feeling his stomach and chest tighten just by the thought. "I can't go home. Not right now." He didn't want to face them all. They'd be there, waiting for him. He didn't want their worry, didn't want their sympathy, didn't want their hovering and awkwardness.

"Why not? You should go home." He sounded a little annoyed.

Josh became aware that he was shivering. He really was cold and now that the umbrella shielding him from more rain his body made it known perfectly clear. "I can't."

"Don't you have any friends you can go to?"

"No ... I don't have any friends." Friends ... it was a distant concept Josh had never bothered with. Why should he? Why should he make people care about him when he was such a mess? Why should he put anyone through the hell that was his life and his emotions and his body?

"Come on, you can't stay out here in this rain ... You'll get pneumonia. If you don't have anywhere else to go, you could come home with me. I live right across the street."

Josh looked up at him again. He was offering Josh a place to stay? It had been a while now since Josh had last ... but he guessed it couldn't hurt. At least he'd get out of the rain. "You sure?" Josh couldn't possibly understand why the guy offered. Josh was a mess, after all, nothing at all inviting about him.

"Yeah." He didn’t look very sure. "Yeah, come on." His voice on the other hand, did.

Free read: After Hours (2/2)

Sometimes it's more than friendship

After Hours

continued ...

Lesley's breath caught in his throat. He flicked his eyes from Spencer's face to the way Spencer was caressing his palm, then back up at Spencer's face again. Spencer was looking back at him, his eyes a clear hazel again now.

Spencer's other hands came up to rest against Lesley's chest, first as a fist, then Spencer slowly stretched his fingers out so that his hand was splayed over the front of Lesley's shirt.

"Spence …" Lesley felt like he couldn't breathe. What was Spencer doing? His hand was warm and firm against Lesley's chest. It started inching up, stroking over Lesley's collarbone before curling around his neck.

Lesley leaned forward a little. Spencer did too and he bent his head down slightly to get down to Lesley's level. His lips brushed Lesley's lightly and they hovered but an inch from each other for a long moment.

Lesley licked his lips before tilting his chin forward slightly so that their lips brushed together again. He pressed further, pressing their lips together in a more proper kiss. I'm kissing Spencer. Spencer is kissing me. It was unbelievable, but it was happening. It couldn't possibly be a dream.

Spencer let go off Lesley's hand and instead reached out to curl his arm around Lesley's waist, pulling Lesley further up against him.

Lesley slowly lifted his own arms and held on gently to Spencer's shoulders. Spencer had nice, broad shoulders that Lesley had admired many a time when they'd been working together.

It felt nice kissing Spencer. Lesley had never kissed anyone before and having his first kiss with the boy he was in love with … it was wonderful.

Spencer eventually drew back and Lesley blinked his eyes open. Spencer's eyes had darkened again, but there was no residue of pain or sadness in them now. Instead they were heated. Heated for Lesley.

"Spence …" Lesley didn't want the moment to end. He didn't want to step away, didn't want to let Spencer go. He wanted Spencer to kiss him again and to never stop kissing him. "What does this mean?" He had to know if this was just a one-time thing or if Spencer was as interested in Lesley as Lesley was into Spencer.

"Do you want it to mean anything?" Spencer's arm tightened slightly around Lesley's waist.

"Yes," Lesley whispered, his eyes cutting to the side, not daring to meet Spencer's eyes at that confession. "I've wanted to for a long time …"

"How long?" Spencer's voice was just as low as Lesley's.

"Since you started working here." Spencer had started working at Harriet's Diner last Autumn, right after his sixteenth birthday. Lesley had already been working there for a couple of months, since his own sixteenth birthday. He'd been hopelessly in love with Spencer ever since laying eyes on him on Spencer's very first day.

Spencer leaned closer, his cheek brushing against Lesley's. "Me too." Both of his arms wrapped around Lesley's back and hugged him close.

Lesley blinked at Spencer's whispered confession, then bit his lip as his smile threatened to split his face in two. He clung on tighter to Spencer's shoulders and turned his head slightly so their cheeks brushed together once again. "Are we … together now?"

"Yeah." Spencer chuckled softly. "If that's what you want?"

"It is." It most definitely was.

end.

Free read: After Hours (1/2)

Sometimes it's more than friendship

After Hours

July, 2002

"I'm sorry, we're closed— ahh, hey, Spencer!"

Lesley smiled as he bustled past with an armful of dishes. The last couple of customers had left the diner and Lesley only had the dishes left to do before he could close up and go home.

"Can you flip over the sign and lock the door?" He called out as he entered the kitchen. He let the sink fill with hot water as he scraped off the plates.

He heard Spencer shuffling into the kitchen and Lesley flashed him another smile before he put the dishes in the sink and started washing them. "Want to help me dry them?"

"Sure." Spencer stepped up at Lesley's side and even though Spencer didn't touch him, Lesley felt his body tingle just from him being so close. It always did whenever he was in proximity to Spencer. It could be problematic at times when they were working together, especially when it was just the two of them.

Still, Lesley thought they worked rather good together. For every fork and knife and plate he washed, he handed it off to Spencer who dried it and willingly took the next item to be handed to him.

"I was wondering," Spencer started, "if I could stay with you tonight?"

Lesley's movements stilled and he turned his head to properly look at Spencer. He was sporting a red scrape on his cheekbone and the beginning of a black eye. "Spence …" Lesley hated seeing Spencer like this and he sadly did way to often. "Of course you can stay with me. You know you always can."

A brief grin flitted across Spencer's face, but he did not face Lesley. He kept drying the plate. "Thanks, mate."

Lesley itched to reach out and touch him, but his hands were submerged in hot water, and he wasn't sure if Spencer would appreciate it. "Who was it this time? Your mum or your dad?" Lesley quickened his speed with the last dishes.

"Dearest daddy." The sarcasm in Spencer's voice was loud and clear. Lesley really didn't like to hear it. He didn't like seeing Spencer hurt or hearing Spencer's pain, which was usually covered by sarcasm.

Lesley handed over the last plate and dried off his hands. While Spencer dried it thoroughly, Lesley headed into the back room to get the first aid kit Harriet always kept stocked.

Spencer looked at it as Lesley put it on the counter, then his eyes flickered up to meet Lesley's. Spencer's eyes were hazel and normally they held such warmth, but now they were a shade darker than normal and shuttered. Lesley did not like it.

Lesley flipped open the kit and dabbed some antiseptic on a piece of cotton. He turned back to Spencer, who was done drying now and had turned to rest his hip against the counter. Lesley stepped closer and gently pressed the cotton to Spencer's cheek.

He could feel the warmth from Spencer's body. If he moved even an inch closer, they'd be pressed up against each other. Lesley almost didn't dare breathe.

"You don't have to do this." Spencer's voice was low, his breath wafting over Lesley's cheek. Lesley shivered and his fingers trembles slightly as he dabbed the cotton against his cheek a couple of more times until he was sure the scratch was clean.

"I want to," Lesley whispered as he stepped back to throw the cotton away and grab a small sticking plaster that would cover the scrape. "I don't like to see you hurt." Lesley reached up without thinking and just barely let his index finger touch the tender skin under his eye that was starting to colour.

Spencer flinched slightly, which broke Lesley out of his reverie. He blinked out of it and stepped back, away from Spencer's distracting self. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean—"

"It's okay," Spencer interrupted his apology. He took a step forward, closer to Lesley and grabbed a hold of Lesley's wrist. His thumb stroked lightly over Lesley's palm. "I don't mind you touching me." 

tbc.

Free read: Coming Home

The knights are returning from war -- and Lieven is not sure if his lover will be with them.

Coming Home

The sound of the trumpets broke Lieven's reverie, bringing him back to real life with a jolt.

The old book he was usually so fond off was shut quickly and shoved away as he stood up from his chair. He hurried over to the window, which overlooked the entrance into the city. His hands clenched on the windowsill as he saw the knights come through the gates--some atop horses, most afoot.

His heart lodged in his throat, and Lieven left all his work behind as he ran for the door. The university lay atop a hill in the city, as far away from the city gates as could be. But Lieven ran as fast as he could, until he reached the main street. A long line of battle-worn knights passed him, but Lieven only had eyes for one in particular.

He craned his neck, looking ahead, then back, but he could not spot that familiar face. Where is he? he wondered frantically, wringing his hands together. He has to be here!

But as the stream of knights thinned, he still had not seen him. His heart, no longer lodged in his throat, fell ruthlessly into his stomach. He felt like he'd been hit. He was not there! Not that Lieven had seen, and Lieven never missed him. He could pick him out of any crowd, but ... not today.

Maybe he'd been further ahead, had entered before Lieven reached the main street.

Hope still flaring just the tiniest bit, Lieven turned and ran for his home. He owned a little house at the outskirts of the city. It would've been more practical living closer to the university, but Lieven loved his little home. It was enough for him. For him and ...

He slowed as his house came into sight. It looked exactly like he'd left it that morning. Gate closed, front door closed, curtains drawn and darkness inside. If he'd been there he would've at least lit a light ...

Lieven felt despair hit him. He could not be dead. He swore he would come back! If he was dead, Lieven did not know what to do ... he lived for him. For months all he'd been waiting for was for the war to end and the knights to return. For his knight to return. It might be selfish of him, but he did not care about the other knights, not as long as his was all right.

And now ... now it would seem he wasn't. And Lieven would be all alone.

Tears pricking at his eyes, Lieven let himself into his house. All was dark, silent. Just like it had been for the last several months. Ever since he left ...

Lieven took his jacket off, letting it fall carelessly to the floor. Who cared about a jacket when his beloved was dead?

He turned the corner to the living room and jumped back in shock, his heart galloping in his chest. Putting one hand over it, he tried to calm down, then took a step forward again.

"Rolan?" The question came out hesitantly. He was afraid to be seeing things.

The man standing there in front of the fireplace turned around, his eyes dark and haunted. But they brightened the tiniest bit upon seeing Lieven.

Lieven couldn't breathe. Rolan was standing there--completely alive. And he was decked up in his uniform and Lieven had always been weak for him in uniform ... Rolan made such a fine, regal figure in the knight's uniform.

"Lieven."

And then Rolan was there, pushing up against the wall and kissing him. The kiss was brutal--speaking of months of loneliness and longing. Lieven wrapped his arms around Rolan's neck, holding onto him as he lifted his legs and wrapped them about his knight's hips.

Rolan tore at his shirt, and soon his hand slid inside the fabric, caressing Lieven's neck, then going down his chest, pinching a nipple, then circling over to the other.

"Rolan," Lieven whispered against his lips as they broke apart for air, "oh, Rolan!"

Rolan's hips moved against him, rubbing his hardness against Lieven's. He kissed Lieven again, more passionately than brutal this time, then he moved his mouth to Lieven's neck, sucking and licking and kissing his way down.

Lieven moaned, tilting his head back to give Rolan better access. He loved when Rolan did that--it made him crazy. If he'd been standing right now, his knees would've given out. Thankfully he was wrapped around his lover, and Rolan was keeping him up against the wall with his own body weight and strong, muscled arms.

Lieven ran his hands over those muscles, loving the bulging form of them under the uniform shirt. No one looked better in uniform than Rolan--no one but Rolan ever got a second glance from him. Rolan was his life, his everything. And he was alive and well and here, still wanting Lieven even after so many months away at war.

"I've missed you so much," Lieven whispered, wanting Rolan to know. "Every day I've been waiting ..." His voice broke off into a long-drawn moan as Rolan sucked up a mark on his collarbone.

"I've missed you too." Rolan's mouth was back against his, their lips touching just slightly. "Every day, every night, you were in my mind. And no matter how hard it was, I knew I had to come back to you."

Lieven choked at those words, and the tears satrted flowing. He wrapped his arms further around Rolan's neck and buried his face in his lover's neck. "I was so afraid you were going to die," he sobbed. "I could not bare that."

Rolan's hand tangled in his hair, running through his to-long tresses softly. His hips had stopped moving, but Lieven could still feel his hardness, and it had him so aroused he did not know what to do with himself. So he cried--and cried.

"I am home now," Rolan whispered against his ear. "You don't have to worry anymore. Because I am here, beloved. I am here."

Lieven clung to him, afraid to budge even an inch. But Rolan was right--he was here now.

And Lieven hoped it would stay like that. He hoped the war was finally over, that Rolan did not have to leave him again. For he could not bear being parted from Rolan again, going several more months without word, without knowing. With the suspense when the knights came back home--still not knowing if his lover would be there, or if he would get word of his death ...

"You are home," he mumbled against Rolan's muscular shoulder. "Please stay home."

Rolan let his hand slide through Lieven's hair again, then he squeezed him tight. He did not answer--because it was not his promise to make. If he was called out for duty again, Rolan could not say no. He was a knight--and he could not forsake his duty to the country just because his lover wanted him to.

"I am here now," Rolan replied. "And I will be for a while. That should be enough for now."

Lieven turned his head and pressed a kiss to Rolan's neck. "Yes," he whispered. "For now, that's enough."

Because all that mattered right now was that he was in Rolan's arms. He could not constantly worry about the future--he had to live in the present. And his present was Rolan.

end.

Free read: A Day In the Forest

As mentioned in my last post, I'll be posting a couple oneshots that has so far only been shared on my livejournal. This one I wrote for holidaysmut last summer; I cannot really believe it's been that long. It features two minor characters from my first published story, Forest of Fenris. This is, as might be obvious from the challenge I wrote it for, one long smut scene. Definitely NC-17.

Tord gets quite the pleasant surprise while going through his drills.

A Day In the Forest

There was no warning.

One moment, Tord was going through his drills in his usual, small clearing, the next he found himself on his back, tree roots twisting around his arms and legs, keeping him perfectly trapped. Leaves that were twisted together came down to cover his eyes so that he could see nothing.

He was lucky he had cleared the clearing off all but the soft grass, else he wouldn't be nearly as comfortable as he was right now. Or as comfortable as he could be when he was pinned down by trees.

"Lor, what are you doing?" Tord spoke up, knowing it could be no other than Lorcan doing this to him. No one else had the kind of magic that Lorcan had, or the complete control to pull off this stunt.

Soft laughter reached his ears, then a familiar weight settled atop him, startling a quiet gasp from him.

"I am playing." Lorcan's lips chased across Tord's cheek, down his jaw, over the other cheek, then finally settled on his lips. Tord kissed him back, going with whatever it was Lorcan had planned for the day. He wouldn't get out of it before it was done, so it was always best to just let Lorcan have his way.

Hands ran down his chest and started pulling his shirt up, until it was bunched against his arm pits and his torso bared to the warm summer afternoon. Lorcan used his nails when running his hands up Tord's chest again, then flicked his nipples, causing Tord to groan. He loved it when Lorcan tortured him like this, relishing in the feeling in-between pain and passion.

Lorcan bent down, his long hair tickling Tord's sides, but when Lorcan's mouth closed over his nipple, the tickling was quickly forgotten. Lorcan sucked hard and Tord knew he would have a mark there whenever he was allowed to see again. His other nipple was thoroughly sucked too, and Tord bucked his torso up, wanting more.

"Calm down, lover," Lorcan chuckled, pressing his chest back down to the ground. "You just lay quiet and enjoy."

"What brought this on?" Tord asked, his voice strained.

"It has been a while," Lorcan replied in a whisper as his fingers moved down to Tord's pants, pulling them down over his hips. "You are such an amazing man, Tord. I just want you to feel good, without you having to redo the favor. This is all for you, who have stood by me through it all. I cannot ask for a better man." Lorcan punctuated it with a hard, hot and deep kiss, his tongue rubbing against Tord's.

He broke the kiss as soon as he started it though, but what happened next was just as amazing as kissing the witch. Lorcan's mouth engulfed his cock, and Tord moaned loudly, not able to help himself. It had been awhile since Lorcan had done this to him--lately it had only been Tord sucking Lor off, before fucking him.

Tord felt his release begin to rise, but Lorcan knew Tord's body perhaps better than Tord himself, and he pulled off. Tord breathed heavily, wanting nothing than to have Lorcan's mouth back, but he knew it was futile begging for it. Lorcan did everything his own way, even when they had sex.

The sound of clothes rustling reached him, and he licked his dry lips. Lorcan sat down atop him again, his bare skin warm against Tord's own. His hips moved, rubbing their cocks together sensually. Tord had a hard time breathing. No matter how many years they'd been together, how many times they'd been intimate during those years, he never stopped desiring Lorcan like this, like he had their very first time together. The passion never faded--and it never would. They were bound body, heart and soul.

Lorcan's hips stopped and he rose up a bit, only to slowly lower himself down on Tord's hard, leaking cock. Their moans mingled in the quiet forest, nothing else could be heard but their bodies joining together.

"Lor, let me see you," Tord groaned, "let me touch you ..."

Lorcan didn't reply, just kept riding Tord's cock, his pace going faster and faster in time with his breathing. Tord was resigning himself to being completely immovable when the roots retracted, leaving him free. The leaves fell away from his eyes and he blinked against the light.

His eyes soon fell on Lorcan, so slender and beautiful where he sat atop him. His black hair fell loose down his back, some of it falling over his shoulder, hiding his pert, pink nipples from view.

Tord had to catch his breath. He reached out, gripping Lorcan's hips, wanting to feel his lover's skin. A fine sheet of sweat covered them both, a testiment to their activities. Tord started bucking his hips up in time with Lorcan pushing down, gaining a perfect rhythm.

Lorcan's eyes closed and he was biting his lip, a testament to how close he was to release. Tord swallowed the lump stuck in his throat, then surged up to kiss Lor passionately, wanting them to be joined in every way possible when they released. His arms wrapped around Lorcan's torso and Lor's hands came up to slide around his shoulders, gripping him tightly.

Lorcan's speed faltered, became erratic, and he spurted his release over Tord's abdomen, his seed warm and sticky. Lorcan's release caused him to clench around Tord's cock, and Tord gave himself over, releasing his own seed into Lorcan's body. When he was spent and empty, he fell back to the soft, grassy ground, Lorcan falling with him as they had not let each other go.

Tord moved one hand down to cup Lorcan's bum, kneading lightly. Lorcan's head rested in the spot where Tord's neck met his shoulder, his breathing hot against Tord's skin.

"That ..." Tord tried forming words for what he felt at this exact moment. "... was amazing." He simply could not come up with anything more original than that. Not at this moment, right after such mind-numbing sex and with Lorcan pressed down atop him.

"It always is between us." Lorcan pressed a soft kiss to Tord's neck, obviously to lazy at the moment to do more than that. "It always is."

And Tord wrapped his arms tighter around him, knowing that this particular witch would forever be his.

end.

Day Of Porn: Carnal Desires

Here is my contribution to Day of Porn.  This is 5K long and possibly the most pervy thing I have ever written. You have thus been warned.  Also, it seems it wants to be a series (as it insisted on a series name), so there'll probably be more pervy fics in the future.

Carnal Desires

It was warm and sunny outside; the perfect summer day. It didn't feel so perfect to Tom at the moment though, as he stopped and looked out over the magnificent landscape underneath him.

Why had he agreed to go on a bloody camping trip with his friend? On a bloody mountain? He should've stayed back home in the city, where he could go out partying and fucking as much as he wanted.

Having to spend a week in a cabin on a mountain with his friends had sounded fun when they'd proposed it. Now, after only three days, Tom was going out of his mind. There was nobody he could hook up with in his circle of friends; those that weren't straight were either girls or taken. Or not his type. For being such a slut, Tom could be quite picky.

Tom blew out a frustrated breath, then he lay down and stretched his body out over the soft grass covering the mountainside. The sun shone down on him, warming him through his thin white tank-top and army shorts.