|The Other Side of a Star
Author: Sheepie PM
Kingdom Come One-Shot. SLASH. What would have happened if Oliver was never paired up with Deangelo in Mr. Rice's class? Would Rory finally get the chance to be with Oliver? Possibly, with a little help from some warm brownies and a little pink toy.Rated: Fiction M - English - Drama/Humor - Words: 8,109 - Reviews: 21 - Favs: 26 - Follows: 3 - Published: 05-11-10 - Status: Complete - id: 2806151
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Author's Note: This story is set in an alternative universe to Kingdom Come, and is in no way connected to the current plot of Kingdom Come. Okay, so here is a little one-shot I've been thinking about for awhile. I got bit by the Rory x Oliver bug, and I just had to do a little smut of them to feed my own craving. I was surprised to find that there weren't a lot of people rooting for them, but that's understandable. Once again, this does not happen in Kingdom Come and in no way affects the story. This is purely for my own personal entertainment and desire, and I decided to share it with you.
Disclaimer: All characters are copyrighted to myself and may not be used with out my permission.
Warning(s): Adult Situations, Strong Language, Strong Sexual Content
The Other Side of a Star
He was fuming over something again. He does that a lot, but I didn't mind. He gets this crinkle along his nose when he's mad and he looks like a little kid. His face flushes red and his eyes go from their bright hazel to this dark muddy brown. He's beautiful when he's angry, so I never care when he goes off on a tangent about something. It's usually either about Janet DiMaggio or Deangelo Russo, his self-proclaimed archenemies, but every now and then it's about something else like a teacher, his current play, or the fact that they didn't have the shirt he liked in his size. Today he was bitching about the latest project that Mr. Rice gave. I knew what he was talking about because I have Mr. Rice first period. I didn't see what the big deal was, but then again I never really get why he complains so much.
Candy would probably smack me if she heard that. She's just reclining back in her seat at the lunch table, rolling her eyes at Oliver. I glanced down at my pudding cup--I love pudding, it's so delicious with its creamy thickness--and took a large spoonful while tuning in and out of Oliver.
"Rory, did you hear me?" He snapped.
My eyes jumped up, spoon hanging from my mouth. His eyes screwed down towards his scrunched nose in an annoyed scuff. "Rory, damn it!"
I grabbed the spoon from my mouth and flashed him a smile, which made him soften around the edges almost immediately. He can never stay mad at me just like I can never be mad at him. I set my spoon back in the pudding cup and rubbed the back of my head, tossing my blond hair about. "Eh, sorry Oli. I was thinking about my pudding cup."
He let out a breath like he was a balloon deflating and mumbled, "Lug head."
I prodded him with my foot and said, "what you say?"
"He said that the world is out to get him." Candy said in exasperation, flopping her hands around her large breasts. She was glaring at Oliver, trying to will him to shut up. She did it all the time but it never worked. Nothing shuts Oliver up when he's going off.
Oliver flicked her off. "Fuck you Candy. You didn't get paired with Snot Faced Milton!"
"Oh boohoo! It could be worse, you could have been paired with Deangelo." She rolled her eyes again, somehow managing to glare at the same time. She kind of scares me. There's just something about her that's so intimidating. She has this ability to look at a person, a kind of predatory look, and it's almost like she's thinking about how your flesh would taste smeared with barbeque sauce. I think if she ever got reincarnated it be as a wolf or something.
Oliver's face mixes with emotion, the same emotions it always mixes with when someone says Deangelo's name. It's a look of anger, hatred, and raw desire. I always catch the desire lingering behind his eyes and I'd be lying if I said it didn't twist my stomach in a dozen knots of jealousy. Despite all his complaints, if he ever got the chance, I know he'd fuck Deangelo. Hell, I'd fuck him. The man is gorgeous. But I don't like it. I've known Oliver all my life. I should be the one he gets lusty for. Not some cocky asshole with long hair.
"Yeah, so what? Doesn't mean that it still isn't bad!" Oliver shot back to Candy, face set on disgust. For who? Milton or Deangelo?
"I got paired with Lisa Berg." I piped up.
They both looked at me and I shrank back, grabbing my pudding cup and taking a bite. Okay, obviously being paired with Lisa Berg isn't that bad. Which, it really isn't. Lisa doesn't get a runny nose every five seconds and doesn't wipe it on her sleeve until there's a long sluggish slime trail up her arm. Oliver collapsed back in his chair, shoving his lunch away. I eyed it hungrily. My pudding cup was almost gone, maybe he wouldn't mind sharing his…
"Can I have your pudding Oliver?"
Oliver shoots me a scandalized look and rises to his feet, grabbing his back pack in a single sweeping motion. Candy just rolls her eyes for a third time and I'm half tempted to tell her they're going to get stuck up there. She doesn't make a move to go console Oliver, so I snatch up my chocolate coated spoon and Oliver's pudding cup and follow behind him. "Oliver, wait!" I yell at his back.
He slows in the hall and looks at me. I open the pudding and smile at him, holding a bite out. "Pudding? Makes the world better."
He tugs his bottom lip between his teeth and I really want to lean down and bite it. I mean, really, really wanted too. I don't. I hold back the urge like I do every single time. Why, I don't know. Lord knows we flirt mercilessly and we're always touching in little ways. But I can never go beyond those hugs because I'm afraid that when I do he'll tell me that its all over.
He cracks a smile and leans forward, eyes slipping closed as he takes the spoon into his mouth. I swear the blood just plummets straight to my cock. I hold my breath and watch him pull away, eyes transfixed on his mouth. He has the perfect cupid bow mouth, his bottom lip somewhat larger then the bottom. They're juicy and red and when he flicks his tongue out to wipe the chocolate away, they glisten with a sheen of saliva.
"Still doesn't make Milton go away." He said, opening his eyes. It takes me a moment to get my brain to work. Right, words… use your words Rory.
"What about a pan of brownies?" I offer, cracking a dopey kind of smile.
He rocks back on his heels, looking up at me. He was a few inches shorter then me. Not really short, I was just tall. With a nod, black bangs falling into his eyes, he said, "You offering to make me some?"
I'd make him anything he wanted if he'd ask. "Yeah."
I finished off the pudding and threw it away, starting to walk with him towards his class. "Why don't you come over after school? I'll make brownies, we can work a little on the project so you don't have to do to much with Milton, and I can wail on you in Soul Caliber. Sound good?"
He bumped his hip into mine. "Yeah. Sounds tasty."
Tasty, heh. Right.
"Okay, meet you at your locker after school." I started leaning down to kiss his forehead but caught my self. Right. Couldn't do that.
I pulled away and gave a small wave before walking down the hall, heading towards my Trig class. Candy was standing at the corner of the hall, arms crossed over her chest again and pushing her breasts up so they were practically spilling from the low scooped neck line of her shirt. Her bag hung off her shoulder and her hip was cocked to the side. "You so want to fuck him."
I shot her a scowl. Me and Candy had a love-hate relationship. She was one of my best friends, but she was a royal fucking bitch. "Shut up." I said.
She smirked and started walking with me. I glared sideways at her. "Why'd you follow? I got the vibe that you thought Oli was being a baby."
I shrugged. "I'd be pissy too if I was paired with Milton." Not really.
"No you wouldn't. Oliver was being a little bitch again." Sometimes you wondered if she was a true friend or not. There was something endearing in the way she called him a little bitch though that made you know she cared about him.
"Right… what do you want Candy?" I said, adjusting the straps of my satchel bag.
She planted her hands on the back of her head and leaned back as she walked, grinning from ear to ear. "When are you going to make a move? You know, you're going to miss out if you don't act soon."
"Shut up." I knew she was right.
"Seriously Rory. He's already mooning over Deangelo and they're bound to get together eventually, as soon as the right thing happens. They're like two fucking magnets. You need to do something if you even want a sliver of a chance."
I stopped walking and looked at her. "You sound like you're rooting for Deangelo."
She kept grinning cheekily at me, the predatory glint returning to her eyes. "I want whatever scenario is the hottest."
It was my turn to roll my eyes. I started walking again and mumbled, "Yeah, whatever pervert…" I didn't want to think about this. I didn't want Oliver with Deangelo. He was too good for him. He deserved someone that would worship him, not annoy the piss out of him.
Candy slammed her hand down on my shoulder with surprising strength, nearly sending me flat on my face. "All I'm saying Rory is that if you want to be with him, then make your move. No one is holding you back but your self."
She was gone before I could say anything. I watched her retreating form before shaking my head and walking the rest of the way to Trig.
So maybe Candy had some merit to her words. After all… no one was stopping me from telling Oliver that I was irrevocably, positively in love with him. No one was holding up a sign, waving their arms wildly, and screaming, "NO! STOP! DON'T DO THAT YOU FUCKING MORON!"
I was just scared to. I didn't want him to tell me that everything I felt was in my head. That all the times we laughed, touched, sat back to back talking aimlessly, were just empty moments. I didn't want him to tell me the spark that I knew was there, was just in my head. That he didn't care.
I didn't want to lose him because of my selfish desires.
But was it selfish? Wanting to be with another person?
I couldn't focus on any of my classes the rest of the day. All I kept thinking about was that look on Oliver's face at the mention of Deangelo and what Candy said. What if she was right? What if Oliver finally stopped hating Deangelo and actually got with him? Then where would that leave me? Alone and horny, that's where.
But could I really do anything?
The bell rang shrilly, jostling me from my thoughts. Class was already over? Damn… I didn't catch a single thing Mrs. Higgins said. I glanced around my English class to see if there was anything to give me a clue, but there wasn't. Well fuck a duck.
I got up and grabbed my book bag before walking out, heading to my locker before I went to Oliver's. I threw my books in and grabbed the ones I needed, stuffing them into my back pack. The inside of my locker was mainly a collection of pudding cups, candy wrappers, and stray slips of notebook paper. I had a few pictures of Oliver and I together, and one of all three of us (Candy, Oliver, and myself) at the beach, stuck to the inside of the door with magnets. Hanging on a hook was my letterman jacket. I grabbed it and shrugged it on before shouldering my bag and heading to Oliver's locker.
The halls of the school were clogged with rushing bodies, all trying to migrate to the front of the school and out the doors. I shoved past a group of girls and stumbled over to where Oliver was waiting. He was leaning against his locker, his back to me. He was talking to Deangelo, his hands flying in gesture to his words. Deangelo came from a pure Italian stock, built like a Harlequin hero. Tall with a set of broad shoulders and shoulder length black hair, his dark eyes smoldering. He carried himself like he didn't give a damn; a regular James Dean. But even though his devil-may-care attitude gave me a hard on, it didn't mean I didn't want t to ruin his handsome face.
He leaned forward and reached up, brushing bangs from Oliver's face. Oliver slapped him in the arm. I could just picture his face, all scrunched and red with anger. I smiled to my self for a moment before walking over, stepping up behind Oliver and glaring at Deangelo in what I hoped was an intimidating way. He was about an inch--give or take a little--taller then me.
"Hey." Oh yeah, I'm real slick. Not.
Oliver looked back at me, face flushed and eyes wide. He looked like a kid that just got caught jerking him self off. Okay, my mind was really going to the gutter… back on track.
"Rory." He was sort of breathless. Deangelo must have really pissed him off.
I flashed him a dimpled smile. "Ready to go?"
He nodded, slamming his locker closed. He looked at Deangelo who just watched indifferently. Without saying goodbye he merged into the flowing crowd of students and headed towards the front doors. I followed, looking back once to Deangelo. A slow grin was spreading across his face and it made my stomach curl up tightly. What had they been talking about?
Oliver was out the door before I could get to him. I pushed out the door and ran to catch up with him, snatching him by the arm. "Hey, Oli, hold up! What's the matter?"
Oliver spun around, shaking my hand from his arm and glaring past my shoulder to the school. His withering look eventually moved to me and I stepped back, holding my hands up in a 'I surrender' kind of way. His eyes softened, muddy depths softening until they looked like they were baking beneath the sun, a golden brown color that was warm and inviting.
He made a sound in the back of his throat, a kind of frustrated grunt, and said, "He pisses me off so much!"
I just stared blinkingly at him. Oliver cocked his head at me, pausing for a response before huffing and turning back around. "Come on, I need a brownie."
A smile cracked across my face. Now that I knew how to handle. I threw my arm around his shoulder, ignoring what few looks we received, and tugged him towards the student parking lot and my car. I drove a brand new red Mercury Cougar. Oliver ran his hands adoringly along the side of the car as he made his way around to the passenger side. "Seriously Rory, I'll blow you if you let me have your car."
He didn't know how tempting that offer was.
I just offered him a smile and beeped it unlocked. I couldn't shake the look Deangelo shot him. What had they talked about? Oliver still seemed a bit frazzled. I put my keys into the ignition and revved the engine up. Oliver fiddled with the radio stations, flipping through them until he found one he liked. I focused on driving, trying to keep my thoughts from running away with the idea of Deangelo and Oliver going at it.
"So what did Deangelo want?" I finally blurted out as we pulled away from the school.
Oliver settled back in his seat and scuffed. "To annoy me."
I glanced over at him, not sure what to say to that. I wanted to prod him for an explanation but the glare he was giving the road told me to wait for the brownies.
The house smelled like warm chocolate. The aroma of baking brownies filled every corner, painting the walls in layers. I had tried to get Oliver to talk but he just glared ominously whenever I mentioned Deangelo's name. Not even the tantalizing scent of brownies could wheedle the information out of him. So I gave up and settled for directing Oliver into the living room while we waited on the brownies to finish. I tugged him down into the couch and pulled him in my arms so he was leaning against my side. At first he resisted but he eventually relaxed into my embrace.
"You only like me because I make you brownies." I said as I flipped on the TV.
Oliver pinched my side and said, "that's right bitch."
I scuffed and gave his shoulder a squeeze. This was what I was afraid of losing. Could I risk this? The feel of him leaning against me leisurely? Knowing that he's comfortable being with me? That he's happy?
But then again…
There could be more. It could be more then him being comfortable against me. It could be him longing to lay next to me. It could be him embracing me, him staring adoringly at me… him loving me. I chewed on my bottom lip and flipped through the channels, looking for something to watch. There really wasn't anything on, even with over three hundred channels to surf through.
"Okay, don't blow a fuse Rory." Oliver said. I glanced down and caught his eyes, which were locked on mine. "What are you thinking?"
Was I that transparent?
I shrugged and looked back the warm glow of the television screen. Spongebob Squarepants was on. We could settle for that.
"That Patrick and Spongebob are gay for each other." Oh yeah, I'm skilled. Dodged that question, biotch.
Oliver snorted and nuzzled my side. "Right, dumb ass."
"You know, you're very verbally abusive." I said, nudging his shoulder.
"I am not."
Oliver pushed away, sticking his tongue out at me. Like in the hall of the school, I wanted to lean forward and suck it in to my mouth. I glanced away and changed the channel. Oliver perked up and sniffed the air, "Hey, are the brownies almost done?"
I glanced at a small crystal clock on one of the end tables and then got up. "I don't know, let me check."
"So where did your parents go again?" Oliver called out as I walked in to the kitchen.
I moved over to the stove and hit the oven light to look in. They looked done but I knew that they could still be gooey on the inside. I grabbed a toothpick and opened the oven, sticking it in the center and pulling it out to see if he came out clean. "Dad is away on business and my mom went to help my Aunt Sheryl. She just had a baby." I shouted back to him.
"Nice ass." He said from behind me. I almost jumped out of my skin at the sound of his voice so close.
I snapped the oven closed and shot him a glare. "Asshole, you scared me. I could have burned my self."
Oliver grinned toothily, the devilish twinkle in his eye telling me that had been his original plan. He bent sideways to look around me at the oven. "They done?"
"A few more minutes." I shoved at his shoulder and gestured to the kitchen table. He slunk over, pouting. Damn he was cute.
I grabbed two glasses and poured some skim milk for us. After setting the glasses down I pulled the brownies out. I knew Oliver wasn't going to give me a chance to let them cool so I grabbed a knife and cut out two pieces, putting the crumbling squares on separate plates. I passed him his milk and brownie and grabbed my own, sitting at the table next to him. He touched the brownie carefully, checking to see if it was hot before plucking a corner and popping it in his mouth. He made a low moaning sound in the back of his throat that left me squirming in my seat. "Shit, Rory, this is good."
It was getting harder and harder to take; someone must have tipped Oliver off on how I felt, because he was doing every little thing to get my blood boiling. Maybe I should just throw caution to the wind. I didn't know how much more of this I could take.
He picked at his brownie, popping pieces into his mouth. Finally after he devoured over half of it he looked up and said, "Don't you want some?"
I dropped my blue eyes down to my uneaten brownie. "Oh…yeah."
Silence lapsed and I grabbed a wedge of my slice, sliding it in my mouth. It was soft and warm and became chocolaty mush as soon as it passed my lips. Oliver knocked around the pieces on his plate, debating if he should eat them. Something was weighing down around us, a presence that lingered behind the smell of freshly baked brownies. Deangelo somehow managed to be here even when he wasn't. I grabbed my milk and took a sip, glaring towards the corner of the kitchen. Oliver ate another piece but it was with less excitement.
"What did he say Oliver?" I finally asked again. Why did he have to be here? Damn it… Candy was right. They were magnets, pulled towards one another even when they were on separate ends of the world. I was losing him by just sitting here, letting him think about that Italian asshole.
Oliver looked up and shrugged. I scowled down at him and broke off a piece of my brownie, flopping it down on his plate. "Come on, whatever he said is really bothering you. So what was it?"
He nibbled on the brownie and I thought maybe he'd dodge the subject again, but after he washed the bite down with some milk he said, "It wasn't anything serious, it just bugs me. I don't know, it has me thinking…"
"What?" My stomach twisted and churned uncomfortably.
He licked crumbs from his fingers. Oh God, he's driving me insane! "Well, he started off just teasing about me being with gross Milton. But then he started talking about having Mr. Rice switch so we could be partners." He said.
As much as I didn't like the idea of that, I didn't see what the beef was. "Okay…I get that, that's annoying, but why are you so upset? You're acting like he kicked a puppy."
Oliver's eyes bounced up to mine, glaring at first, before softening seconds later. I grabbed the plates and cups and put them in the sink for later. I waved for him to follow and said, "Come on, lets go to my room."
I started walking up the stairs, glancing back only once to see if he listened. We went up to my room and Oliver instantly migrated to my slightly messy bed. My room was simple, decorated in blues and fashioned with the latest electronics. My walls were bare because my mom was OCD and freaked when tape came near them. I pulled my computer chair out from my desk and turned to face him, flopping back in it and reclining.
Oliver finally flopped his hands down hard on the bed and said, "He just pisses me off! He was flirting with me just to be an ass!"
My heart thudded in my chest. Oliver looked pissed, but more at him self then at Deangelo. I wetted my lips and flicked a few straw colored strands of hair from my eyes. In a voice that was a lot smaller then what I wanted, I said, "Do you want to be partners with him?"
Oliver responded too quickly, too defensively; "no!"
"Really? Because you look more upset about not being his partner." I was growing more agitated. He was seriously getting upset about not being partner with Deangelo, his supposed arch nemesis. I could practically feel him slipping through my fingers.
Oliver opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water. The thumping of my heart increased, becoming the rapid beating of a bird's wing against a window. He attempted to roll his eyes sarcastically, saying, "Rory, seriously? I hate him."
"You know that saying, the lady doth protest too much, methinks? Well you're protesting too much."
His eyes were wide, saucers of cream with a drop of mud in the center. His face reddened, out of embarrassment or anger I didn't know. Finally he closed his gaping mouth and said, "I don't want to be his partner."
"Do you like him Oliver?" My voice held a hard edge to it.
Oliver glanced away, staring at one of my many medals. "Rory, shut up. Just start the game."
"Do. You. Like him Oliver?" Each word was punctuated.
Oliver clenched my rumpled comforter. "Rory-"
"ANSWER!" I was out of my seat, towering over him with heavy breaths that lifted and dropped my shoulders.
Oliver looked up, eyes still wide. Finally after the initial shock wore off his face reddened with anger and his nose scrunched. "Don't fucking yell at me Rory! Why do you fucking care?"
He was up on his feet, somehow managing with his lack of height to stand tall. I held my ground this time, refusing to cow like I always did when he got mad. "Because I'm sick of this bullshit Oliver! You bitch and moan about him, but every time he comes in the God damn picture you go gaga eyes for him, like a fucking girl!"
I've never talked like this. I've never been so mad before either. But he was driving me insane! Oliver's glare grew sharper, threatening to dig me an early grave. "Fuck you Rory! I don't moon over him!"
"Yes you do, like a little bitch!" The words just kept spilling from my mouth, I couldn't stop them. I didn't want to.
His hands were clenched tightly at his side, trembling from the force of his grip. "You're the little bitch Rory! Not me!"
"Really? Because I'm not the one with my tongue hanging out every time some asshole walks my way!"
"Why do you even care? So what if I like Deangelo? Huh? It's none of your God damn business!" Oliver yelled, jamming his finger into my chest.
Fuck, fuck, fuck! No! He wasn't allowed to like him. I couldn't have that. I couldn't accept it!
"Because he doesn't deserve you!" I yelled back.
"Oh really? And who does?"
I didn't even think about the words, they came on their own accord. "I do!"
We both froze, the air going artic. He stared up at me for several painful seconds before a smile cracked across his face, his eyes softening and warming back to honey. He broke out into a peel of laughter, bending over at his side. My back stiffened as he held himself, laughing hysterically. I wasn't joking. Why was he laughing? I wasn't fucking joking!
He didn't believe me.
Fuck him. Fuck him!
I reached down and undid my belt, pulling it from the loops with a jerk of my hand, cracking the leather out at the sound like a whip. His head jerked up, mirth sparkling like sunlight in his eyes. I didn't give him time to respond. I grabbed his arms and tied them with the belt, thanking my parents for sending me to boy scouts. Oliver pulled at his arms, hissing, "Rory, what the fuck? Let go!"
"No." I said, securing my belt.
Oliver looked up at me, an edge of panic creeping behind his freshly lit anger. "What are you doing? Let me go, seriously!"
"I am serious Oliver." I said before doing the one thing I've always dreamed about. I tugged his arms with one hand so he fell forward and grabbed his hair with the other, tilting his head back. He strained to look up at me, mouth parting to let out a shallow breath. I swallowed it as I crushed my lips against his, acting on adrenaline and fear and lust. My body was suddenly alive, vibrating and tingling with electricity, sensing every small movement of Oliver's body.
He stiffened at first, making a sound of discontent in the back of his throat. Part of me expected him to bite my tongue or kick the shit of me. But he just stood there, shocked, mouth open to me. I took advantage of it and dove my tongue in, pillaging his warm orifice. After a few seconds and a small gasped moan he did the one thing I didn't expect--he responded. His tongue moved against mine, slowly at first, testing the feel before he lost himself.
He tasted like chocolate. I tightened my grip in his hair, molding his body into mine as I bent over him. It was hot, tongue and saliva, teeth gnashing as I tried to go deeper, biting at his bottom lip and pulling. I wanted him to realize that every little touch, every little word, had always been with absolute adoration and devotion. Part of me couldn't believe I was doing this, but I ignored the shock, not letting it worm in and draw out any fears or apprehensions. I needed to listen to Candy. I had to take the jump. I had to tell him, to show him.
I had to make him understand.
But I was going to also make him realize he wanted it to.
"Rory." Oliver mumbled, standing on his toes to close the space between us. I gave a shuttered breath, sinking my teeth hard into his bottom lip and causing him to jump. "Shit!"
"God I've wanted you for so fucking long." I mumbled in his mouth crudely.
I let go of him for a split second before pushing him down on the bed and tugging his arms up, pulling them above his head and suspending them around one of the posts of my headboards. He craned his neck to look back at his hands, promptly hissing, "Rory! Damn it! Let me go you asshole!"
"No," I deadpanned. "If you won't believe me, then I'm going to show you."
I walked over to my closet, throwing the door open and dropping to my knees. Buried beneath my shoes in a shoe box full of junk was a birthday present I had hidden away. Candy had given it to me last year for the sheer purpose of mortifying me. She had cackled like a nursery rhyme witch at the look on my face when I opened it. I grabbed the shoe box, which was shoved all the way in the back, and opened it up. Beneath the miscellaneous papers and crap was a long pink vibrator. It was your basic kind with a twist switch at the bottom. It had two speed settings--low and high. The head of it was slightly wider then the rest, but other then that there were no fancy gadgets to it. I'd seen some of Candy's when I went to her house, there are some pretty freaky vibrators out there. She had one with this bunny coming up from it, and all these beads at the head that spun around.
I shoved the box back in the closet and walked over to my dresser, grabbing some lube before returning to Oliver. He had scooted up some what on the bed, staring in confusion at me. "What the fuck do you have?"
His eyes dropped to my hands, going wider if possible. His legs were arched at the knees and spread unintentionally in an inviting manner. My cock twitched at the sight of him, hair mused and lips swollen. Desire burned behind his eyes, masked by the anger he held on to. I was going to erase any thoughts of Deangelo. By the end of the night he was going to be screaming my name.
"Rory, seriously, come on man. This shit isn't funny." Despite the fact that he was weakly protesting, he made no move to stop me. In fact his legs spread slightly wider apart, the fire in his eyes growing until they looked like burning ambers.
"Oliver, all you have to say is 'no Rory, I don't want this' and I'll stop." I said. I wasn't going to force him. I could never hurt him. But unless he said no, I knew he didn't mean any of his protests. I climbed on to the bed and moved between his knees, setting the vibrator aside.
"Rory, stop shitting around." Oliver said, squirming as I saddled up between him. I ignored him and grabbed at his belt, removing it and using it to secure his arms once more in case he tried to slip away from the bed. He tugged at his restrained arms and looked at me, chest rising and falling with his short breaths. I grinned, I couldn't help it, and unsnapped his jeans. He bit his bottom lip, cheeks coloring softly.
"Say it Oliver. All you have to say is 'no'." I said, drawing his zipper down slowly. His eyes fluttered shut. I looped my fingers in the belt holes and dragged his jeans down, his hips rising slightly to help. I jerked his shoes off and tugged at his socks before pulling his jeans the rest of the way, dropping them at the end of the bed.
"Rory," Oliver's attempts were growing more futile, more weak.
I leaned forward and shut him up, sealing my mouth over his in another searing kiss. My tongue pressed past his lips, tasting the chocolate that seemed to coat his mouth. My hips pressed down in his and I could feel his erection through the thin material of his boxers. I broke away and attacked his neck, running wet kisses over his clavicle bone. His head rolled to the side and he gave a small, breathy gasp as my teeth sank down into his dark skin. I sucked, running my hands up his stomach and pushing his shirt up. I dragged my thumb across his right nipple, rolling it around until the nub turned into a little pebble.
"Fuck." I hissed, my body on fire. "You don't know how long I've wanted this."
He didn't say anything, but he didn't need to. I lowered my self, working kisses across his chest until I was biting and sucking at his dusty nipples. He made a wailing sound when I drew the first one in my mouth. I ran my hand down his stomach, trying to focus on getting him to the point of delirious hunger instead of the painful throbbing going on between my legs. My jeans were unbearably tight, but I knew I had to wait.
I hooked my fingers through the band of his boxers and after setting a playful kiss to his belly button, I pulled the material down and away from his body. His cock sprung up, flushed red like his face, engorged with desire. Oliver shuttered visibly and whimpered, "Rory, come on, what the fuck has gotten into you?"
It was like he was saying it now more as a game, seeing how far he could push me. I ran my fingers delicately along the back ridges of his swollen member, watching Oliver's face twitch with each touch. With a wicked grin I grabbed a hold of it and pressed it down flat against his stomach, rubbing teasingly. He squirmed and bucked, wailing again, "Shit!"
I ran my fingers along the sensitive skin between his the base of his cock and his scrotum, rubbing it in circles. Each sound he made was another chink in my self control. I let go of his cock and grabbed the vibrator and lube. I poured a descent amount on the pink toy and then applied some to Oliver's puckered entrance, all the while never tearing my eyes away from his face.
Oliver arched his hips up obediently, not fighting me as I gave silent instructions with my hands. I grabbed his legs and bent them down over his body to expose his hole. There was no warning, I wasn't going to give any. I pressed the wide end of the vibrator against the rosy ring and pushed in, watching Oliver's face twist and his sweet red mouth open wide. I pushed in as deep as I could go, but I didn't turn it on, not yet. I waited, letting him feel it inside him before I kicked it up to the low setting.
Oliver's hips jumped in surprise and he made a weak sound in the back of his throat. "Fuck, Rory!"
"You know what to say Oliver." I whispered, but we both knew he wouldn't say it. It was already beyond that point.
I started pulling the vibrator in and out slowly, teasing him with its sensation. At first he just made weak keening noises, but soon his hips began to rock with the motion, aiding it as it plunged deeper and deeper. When he began to get use to the feel I turned the vibrator on to full volume, earning a loud moan of surprise. Dear God that was the sweetest sound. I would have rubbed my self if my hands weren't full with Oliver's legs and the vibrator.
I pushed it in harder, nudging it to find that sweet spot that would really get Oliver crying. He squeezed his eyes shut, cursing, "Rory, shit, oh God…" it came out in high moans.
I wasn't going to stop, he wasn't ready. Until he begged me for it I wasn't going to stop. I continued to fuck him with the vibrator, pushing it in and out, finding his prostate and slamming the toy into it. He bucked his hips and pushed down against the vibrator, thrusting against it like an eager whore. He was beautiful, face flushed and body growing slick. I ran my lips along the backs of his knees and down the backs of his thighs, working towards his weeping cock. I pressed a kiss against his balls, inhaling the musky scent of his flesh.
His head tipped back with a cry. "Damn it Rory! Stop teasing me!"
I just smiled and nipped at the skin I had earlier abused, continuing to fuck him with the toy.
"Fuck! Rory, fuck it! Fuck me now!" He finally demanded and I was grateful my parents were gone. Oliver was definitely proving to be very vocal.
I switched the vibrator off and removed it. It made a wet sound as I pulled it out. I threw it aside with out care. I was beyond worrying about stains my mom might find on the carpet. I let go of his legs and worked on removing my clothes, pulling my shirt over my head, and tugging my pants and boxers off along with my shoes and socks. I poured some lube in my hand and slicked my self up before shifting Oliver so I could throw his legs over my shoulders and angle my self to his awaiting entrance.
His eyes opened, smoldering with ardor, staring up at mine. In that moment I fell in love with him all over again. He looked like an angel, cast in the fading light of the sun as it escaped through my window, his body glowing from the sweat that had settled over him. I gripped his legs tightly--possessively--knowing I could never let Deangelo get his hands on Oliver. He would change him, take him away. I couldn't let that happen. Not when I had been pinning for him for so long.
I threw my hips forward and slammed into him, pushing all the way down to the base. Oliver arched and cried out, his hands clenching above his head. I lost my self in his honey eyes, seeing nothing but sticky golden pools and I drove into him over and over again, rutting wildly. I shifted my hips, trying to angle my self like I had the vibrator, aiming for the spongy prostate deep in his channel. Oliver rolled his hips so he met my thrusts, slamming himself down and bouncing back up.
"Rory, shit, ah!" He cried out and I gave a grunt, brows creased.
His cock bobbed between us and I shifted one hand so I could reach around, grabbing a hold of it. I began to jerk him off in time as best I could with my wild thrusts. My body was alive and I felt all the electricity mixing together with the fire that was balling up in my stomach. It was tightening my muscles, coiling them up like springs. I was close, edging nearer to the cliff that would throw me down into sweet wanton bliss.
I made another grunting sound, "Oliver."
My stomach jerked and my balls tightened, every fiber in me exploding like mini volcanoes releasing in rapid succession of one another. I stopped pacing my thrusts, stopped thinking about them and became an animal, a beast. I pounded into him, drilling him into my mattress and causing my headboard to bounce. It probably chipped the paint, but at this moment it was what the fuck ever.
Oliver screamed, full-blown wail, head tipped back and Adam's apple bobbing as my name escaped from him in a way I couldn't even dream. It was beyond hot, beyond sexy. He screamed like I was the best fuck he was ever going to have and I planned on reminding him of that every chance I got.
I continued to jerk him off, using his pre cum as lubricant until he followed my orgasm with his own. He was thrusting up into my hand, riding out his climax with a final wail before collapsing boneless into the mattress. I fell forward, managing to land on my forearms, panting heavily. We stayed like that for awhile, trying to even our breaths and still our rapidly beating hearts.
"Rory… can you let my arms down? They're going numb." He finally said.
I blinked, flushing in embarrassment and nodding my head quickly, "Y-yeah."
I scurried up, straddling his stomach and quickly trying to undo my intricate knotting. It took me a little bit to get the belts undone, but I finally managed and threw them aside with the rest of our clothes. I shifted off him and dropped onto the bed beside him, pulling him close against my body.
He didn't fight me like I was afraid he was. I was suddenly very aware of his emotions. I didn't know if he planned on socking me after this, or what. I wouldn't be surprised, hell I wouldn't even hold it against him.
But he didn't. He settled into me like he always did, turning to burry his face in my chest. "What the hell was that Rory?" He finally said, almost sounding like he was laughing again.
I tightened my arms around him. "I wanted you to believe me."
"Well that sure is one hell of a way to get your point across."
"Yeah…" I trailed off. "Sorry."
"Rory," his tone grew serious. He looked up at me, face still flushed with exertion. "Are you serious? I mean… what you said, before… do you, I mean…"
He bit his bottom lip, nose crinkling with frustration. I couldn't help but smile and dip down to kiss it. "Damn you're cute."
"I meant it. I don't want you to be with Deangelo." I said, surprised at the fact that there wasn't a tremble in my voice. But I guess after what we just did, I didn't need to be nervous. I had definitely taken the plunge already, no changing it now. "I want you to be… with me. I always have."
When was he going to believe me? I glared down at him. "Yes, Oliver seriously."
He held his hands up. "Sorry, but it's kind of a surprise… I mean I never thought, well, okay… I guess we always have but… yeah." He rubbed the back of his head.
"So… will you?" I prodded, fingers tracing his spine. "Go out with me."
I never understood what they meant when time stood still. But in that moment it did. The few seconds in between my question and his answer felt like a life time. But in a blink it was over and he said, "Yeah… yeah, I will Rory."
I pulled him close, crushing him against my body. He flailed, shoving at my chest. "Gah! You're crushing me you big lug!"
I instantly let go, laughing. He shook his head and nestled back into me, mumbling, "Now be still, I'm fucking exhausted…"
With a low chuckle I nodded my head and rewrapped my arms loosely around him. Eventually his breaths evened out and the only noise I could hear, beneath the beating of our hearts, was his light snoring. I tangled one hand in his hair, continuing to stroke the other gingerly up and down his spine. I was exhausted, but I couldn't go to sleep. I was still running on the high of him saying yes. I looked out the window to where the sun had sunk low behind the houses and the sky began to grow dark in the final moments of daylight. Along the border of violet and orange was a single pale star. I watched it, wishing that I'd never have to let Oliver go.
I wondered though, if things could have turned out differently. Would Oliver still be here in my arms if he hadn't been paired with Milton? What would have happened if he was paired with Deangelo? Would we finally be together? But… you know, who cares? I have him, and that's all that matters.