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Title: Mine
Author: Lia (Unattainable Adrenaline)
Rating: PG-13 for language and a tiny bit of suicidal implications
Summary: Evan Dawson looked all of thirteen. Maybe fourteen or fifteen if looked at in the right light, but nowhere near his correct age of nineteen. And he hated it. But not Landon. Oh, no, Landon loved it. Loved him.
I was walking in downtown New York, the bustle of crowds nearly deafening me. It didn’t really bother me anymore, I had gotten so used to it; the dark gray pavement running out from under my feet as the horde of people argued and talked.
A cigarette hung out of my lips, tip burning; the frigid air throwing smoke in the faces of passer-bys. I really didn’t care. I was fucking irritated. I had just lost my fucking job because I wasn’t “competent enough” and I “made the customers uncomfortable". Not my fault if they’re all fucking phobes, now is it?
My fucking boss came up to me today and started running his mouth. It was ridicululous. I hadn't even done anything today, except for maybe... Uh... discouraging a few customers from walking over to me. But that was all! And then my boss comes over and says that I'm "unnecessary to the company's development and progress." I don't think I need to say what it was I told him.
People are looking at me again too. I’m not fucking twelve, okay? Jesus, I may look like it, but I’m fucking not, so go the fuck away! Ah… I love the word ‘fuck’… So versatile…
And they won’t stop looking at me… It really pisses me off sometimes. It’s not like I’m particularly short or anything, it just seems to be my face and the fact that no matter how much I may work out, I still had some slight baby fat that just would not go away. Even with the baby fat, I was quite skinny, narrow shoulders tapering down to an even narrower waist. My boyfriend didn’t mind though. He thought it was adorable. Ha, some weird shit he must be on.
I guess I shouldn’t say that though, we’ve been together for almost four and a half years, since I was fifteen actually. He helped me recover after I nearly killed myself. He helped me and I didn’t even know him. I naturally found out who he was and looked him up; meeting him and immediately hitting off. I suppose I could say I loved him, if not more than merely that.
It wasn’t just my slight structure and childish nature that made people stare. It was also the fact that I looked like a 13 yr. old gone wild. My dark brown, almost black hair was streaked through with an electric blue, the hair lightened in those spots to increase the colour. It was cut peculiarly too. It was short and spiky in the back before smoothing out into thick straight strands that fell over my face and covered my eyes. Of all the dye in my hair, it condensed the most in front, leaving only a few places their natural colour. And my eyes… oh, let’s not forget my eyes. I have strange eyes, a pale violet rose shade that goes well with my equally pale complexion. People have told me that my eyes are magnetic. Hardly…
I walked in the door to the Lazí café, smelling the warm scent of cooking pastries and brewing coffee, and pulled off my jean jacket, revealing my rather clingy black turtleneck underneath. I’ve never understood why people always seemed to think gay men liked to dress in ridiculously flamboyant outfits; I’ve never felt the urge to. But then, I'm not completely gay either. More like really unattracted; save one person. Landon.
I walk up past the fake marble counter and turn into the small vinyl corner bench where my boyfriend is sitting. As I catch sight of him, the previous anger dissipated, replaced with a warm, contented feeling.
He’s beautiful with clear, blue eyes and longish golden-brown hair that curled slightly at the bottom, making it perfect to play with. His skin held the pale tone that many held, mine included, because of so little sun in this barren, overcast city. He turns his head and looks at me, a smile already painting his peach perfect lips. Yes, perfect. He is perfect. Mine.
As that thought runs through my mind, I reach out my hands and pull him against me, my beautiful angel, literally parting his lips and taking his breath into my own lungs. Licking his swollen lips with my tongue, I feel him shudder as he always does when I kiss him. Yes, I could say I love him.
I hear a few shocked gasps from a few tables around us and look up. Honestly, we live in New York City; you're going to see a few gays here and there. A couple of people are staring at Landon and I, and I catch a few words that a middle-aged woman is whispering to her husband… At least, I assume he’s her husband. Couldn’t be anyone else, judging from the bored look on his face as the ugly dog opened her mouth beside his ear.
“ … Hubert, do you think we should inform the police? That boy looks so young! What if he’s one of those ‘corner boys’? Hubert? Are you even listening to me? The boy looks like he’s just a child! That man must be making him do something; statutory rape, I tell you…”
The rest of the words were drowned out as a rush of static filled my ears. No one, absolutely NO ONE said something like that about my boyfriend. No one.
I detangled my limbs from Landon’s and he tried to hold me back, knowing full well, I’m sure, what I was about to do. I’ve always had a bad temper. I got up despite his resistance and strode over to the older couple.
“Excuse me, ma'mn, but I couldn’t help overhearing what you were saying about my boyfriend and I. I just wanted to inform you that it is not considered statutory rape if the “victim” is within two years age-wise of the “aggressor”. I, however, am the same age as my boyfriend over there and also nineteen.” I said as I leaned casually against their table. The woman looked a bit shocked at being caught, but not the least bit guilty. Surprise, surprise. I hate women. At least dumb-ass saggy boob bimbo whores like this one.
“It’s wonderful and all that someone is concerned about my well-being, but I would appreciate it a lot if you just stayed out of my business, please.” I said in a mock politeness.
“Thank you.”
I rounded back and walked away well aware that about half the restaurant had heard me because of the sudden silence that had fallen. Hm…I wasn’t aware I had talked that loud. Oh, well.
I slid back into the seat beside Landon and turned my head to look at him, not at all surprised by the disapproving look he sent me.
“I really wish you wouldn’t do that.” He said in a condescending tone.
"But, Landon... " I whined. I was really good at that.
"But, Evan... " He whined back.
"Hey! No fair, only I'm allowed to complain!" I protested. Very subtly.
He moved to stroke my cheek softly and smiled as I said that. Ahh... so he knew why I really went up there.
... Damnit.
His voice softened as I moved into the touch and said, “Evan, it doesn’t matter what they say. I don’t care and if they’re that blind than they don’t deserve to be listened to anyway.”
“Don’t you understand, Evan?” He whispered as he leaned in to kiss me; the warm, moist air blowing on my lips eliciting a shiver. "Don't you understand?"
“I’m yours.”
Mine.
As the thought again filtered through my mind, Landon grasped me and pulled forward, pressing our bodies flush together. It didn’t seem to occur to us that we were in a coffee shop in broad daylight as we clashed our mouths together in a hot pursuit of primal instinct.
We did cut off, however, as I heard the rather loud moan Landon gave out. Suddenly, realizing where we were, I broke off from Landon and grabbed his hand, jerking him out of the booth.
“Come on.” I said breathlessly. “We’re going home.”
“But we haven’t even ---” Landon started.
“We. Are. Going. Home.” I commanded. “NOW.”
“But why?” He asked.
My God… sometimes he was so naïve…
“Why do you think, sweetie?” I asked sarcastically as I pulled him against me, just enough for him to get my point.
His eyes widened and mouth opened in a silent “O” as he realized exactly what my point was. Rather hard point it was too.
Without further protest, I dragged him out the door, past the curious onlookers, and set off down the street with him in tow. It took us about ten minutes to navigate through the crowds, even for as long as we had lived there. Then finally, we reached the big, red-brick apartment complex. I practically ran through the darkened lobby to the elevator; the people sitting in the upholstered seats barely catching my eye.
As the metal doors clicked shut and started for the highest floor (Floor Number 12), I was slammed up against the wall so hard that the elevator shook. As I cried out in pain, my body was covered quickly by the searing heat of Landon’s, and the pleasure mixed with the pain, making it exquisite. Locking my legs around Landon’s middle, I ground out against him in a hard, circular motion. Landon moaned at the movement and moved to grasp my hips harder.
When the door opened into the dimly-lit hallway, we stumbled out onto the fake red velvet carpet; trying to get to our room as quickly as possible while keeping our skin in constant contact.
My back slid along the dingy wallpaper as Landon reached out to the door and unlocked it single-handedly. Slamming the door shut, he guided me through the small two-room apartment, stumbling through the kitchen to our room.
After opening the door, I fell back against the cool, satin sheets, pulling Landon down with me. God, he felt so good.
Shedding our clothes, we battled for the highest power; tongues and bodies struggling to overcome the other. But towards the end, we slowed, building the tension time and time again until we couldn't stand it. I clung to him as the stars exploded, whimpering and gasping in his ear as my head fell back against his chest. It was a wonder how he always managed to come so silently; his head buried in the base of my neck, biting hard enough to bruise; our bodies pressed close enough to make nerve endings burn from shoulder to hip as he traced nonsense lines against my skin.
"Evan... I love you so much... Don't you ever leave me." He said possessively as he gripped me.
That one line made my face scrunch up, the effort of not crying stinging my eyes. I remember what it was like without him. All alone. It seemed he remembered too.
I turned around to face him; not realising the moisture on my face was anything but sweat.
"I love you too. I'll never ever leave you." I said as I cradled his face in my hands. My beautiful angel. Mine. "Never."
As we slipped off to sleep, one thought floated across my mind.
Yes, I suppose I could say I loved him.
THE END.
And does anyone think this would be a good sequel if I wanted to do a prequel? Just a thought. Review and tell me what you think.