umbralla | [for romain]

[for romain]

[It's not hard to find Ghyslain when he's not in class or the dorms - he doesn't go out a lot, and when there aren't classes in the music room, he'll most likely be there. How often do you find a giant grand piano to play, after all? Even his family had a much smaller one, slightly out of tune, which grated on someone with such a natural ear when he came back from lessons and had to practice on it.

Today he's playing something he remembers his older sister listening to; not his kind of music, but the musician was damn good on piano, so the melodies stick out and he picks them out when he hasn't got a song in mind. It's slow at first, then picks up to the actual speed of the song, light and flourishing.

He's clearly in his own world, pale eyes dreamy and head swaying back and forth. In a soft, deep voice, he tries to translate the lyrics he can remember, but they come without scansion and rhyme because it's so off the top of his head.]

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[He murmurs helplessly into the kiss, lifting his head a little when it's broken as though he's not ready for it to end, then smiling gently at Romain's words.]

It is impossible, I - oh! [And his back is arching again, hips rolling into the almost-touch, that sound almost a cry. He squeezes his eyes shut, mouth falling open as his hands suddenly fly into action and start to reach frantically for Romain; he manages to grip a sleeve just below the shoulder, fist closing tight around it. His face is absolutely contorted with pleasure.]

Non, c'est - c'est bon, c'est si bon, n'arretes pas...

Edited 2015-06-18 03:57 (UTC)

[His turn to smile, quite amazed by how easily he's causing such a reaction with his hand. It's the encouragement he needs to slip is under his underwear and touch him at last, feeling around for a hesitant moment before figuring out how to curl his fingers around his length.

Okay. He can do this. Just - keep it simple. Ghyslain knows this is his first handjob to another guy, so he can't expect to have his world rocked. Just your standard boring pumping for now.]

[The touches make him squirm, trying to help and probably just making things more difficult, but then his mouth opens in a perfect O when Romain gets a hold of him and he lets out another whimper.

Just the standard is good. It's brilliant. He used all the tricks he did because he knew he was working past a lot of mental barriers that would show themselves physically, but he has no such thing - he wants this so badly he could cry, and now it's happening, and all he can do is feel his body jerk into the pumping of Romain's hand and listen to the pathetic little sounds coming from himself. There's no worry about coming too fast, no shame, because Romain can't possibly have any expectation for how this will go. This isn't a test on which he'll be graded and given the treatment he's earned himself, or a lesson for a nervous boy who wants to impress. It's just pleasure.

Just pure, perfect pleasure.]

Romain, baise-moi, s'il vous plait... [His voice is higher than usual, strung tight with arousal that's pulling tighter every second, and he's clinging to the front of Romain's shirt now. He wants the taste of Romain on his lips, even if it is heavy with alcohol right now, one last time before he comes.

[There's really no way Romain can get aroused again, but God, if it had been any other time he'd be completely hard and crying for release. The look on Ghyslain's face and the pitch of his voice makes everything so incredibly intense, more intense than he remembers it having been in a long time, hand closed tight around the fabric of his shirt and words pleading for a kiss between little whimpers. And, fuck - he's whimpering too, completely incapable of helping himself. It's as uncontrollable as the other boy's thrusts into his hand.

He's barely doing anything worthwhile, and yet here he is, coming apart at the seams. But if he wants a kiss, Romain is absolutely going to give him one. As many as he likes, in fact. He leans down quickly and their mouths connect, kissing hungrily, sucking on his lips and pushing his tongue against his. This might just be their best kiss so far, if just because of how delighting it is for the both of them.]

Tu es là? Ghyslain, [He breathes, freezes a little just to watch his features again, and then his hand jerks faster than before, steady and swift.] Viens -

[No, Romain isn't fully aroused, but he's lost again. He's drowning in Ghyslain's pleasure. Ghyslain is just aware enough to hear that in the sounds he makes, feel it in his kisses. All he wants is for Ghyslain to feel good - pure pleasure.

And then his voice, his words, and Ghyslain comes as though he really is following orders: instantaneous, hard, whole body shivering as the orgasm moves through him. Romain's name comes out on the edge of a cry, just before he collapses back into the bed with a gulping breath in and a shuddering one out.

He's a mess. His pants really didn't come off. But the discomfort is the last thing on his mind, because his whole body is still humming and Romain is still there and panic has yet to set in. (It's telling of how he thinks that there's a yet there, but it's just a tiny, quiet worry for now.)]

Romain... [It feels like all he can say anymore. Now it's a low, hoarse breath, totally different from his shrill voice on the way up, matched by heavy-lidded eyes. He's more in awe than ever.] ... merci.

[Romain shudders when he feels him coming in his hand, almost startled, hot fluid now wet and sticky on the both of them. He only realizes then that his breath is hard and fast, mouth dropped and eyes dazed. Well - there's a distinct difference between a boy and the other girls right there. Romain is never quite sure of when the orgasm hits exactly, and he'll often just keep stimulating them after after they've reached climax, but with guys it's... obvious when it happens, isn't it.

So he stops, and, more out of instinct than any deliberate provocation, runs his fingers up the length of his cock to squeeze around the crown, pushing a couple more droplets out. Then he just lets his hand rest there, between his legs, until he lowers his head and rolls off and down on his back.]

Merci?

[His chest isn't heaving, but it's close. His hand is filthy and he definitely feels it, but he's past caring about getting the sheets dirty. Smiling. He's smiling.]

Elle doit être la première fois que quelqu'un me remercie.

[That smile on Romain's face nearly makes his heart explode with relief. So far, it's okay. Everything's okay.]

I feel - you have given me something. So I thank you.

[He's only got one clean hand as well, but he's able to shift so that he can use it to comb through Romain's hair again. He liked that, right?]

Ouais. Merci.

[Oh. He definitely liked that, and still does.]

Well. Merci to you too.

[can he sleep now. is that allowed.]

[Of course he can. He'll be messy as hell in the morning, but Ghyslain will just keep stroking his hair until he does fall asleep, then -

- go change and wash his hands, tbh. Then he'll climb in as well, close to Romain without actually holding him. That's a whole different line to cross.]

[yeah he's just going to sleep now. snore here and there. nothing that should keep ghyslain up all night unlike other things

And then morning comes, and he barely even realizes where he is because he's got his body tucked against the other boy's and he's too comfortable to move away.

Until he remembers what happened before he fells asleep. and... yeah. his hand. oh god, his hand.

no sudden movements. but what does he do now?]

[He'll have about five minutes of sweating it out before Ghyslain murmurs softly, shifts his head and tries to stretch out his body only to realize the proximity of the other boy.

No, he wasn't blackout drunk. But he definitely didn't expect Romain still to be here when he awoke.]

... Romain? [A tiny whisper. Is he awake?]

[his heart is at a million an hour, made worse when Ghyslain speaks up and breaks whatever spell had Romain wrapped up and staring at him - because he still looks beautiful and he is pretty damn sure he is 100% sober right now, so the drunk theory is right out the window.]

Yeah - [he chokes, then clears his throat within three seconds.] I'm here.

[and yeah, he's surprised about that too.]

Didn't mean to wake you up. [but he's glad he did, so he can disentangle himself now.]

[He immediately misses Romain's close presence once it's gone, but - no, he's awake now, and sober as well. He knows those aren't the kinds of feelings he can entertain. What he has to do is make this easy, the transition out and away.]

I can make it dark. [Still whispering, eyes still closed.] In the hallway. Like a - panne de courant, when the lights die. No one will see you.

[... okay, so his mind is still yelling at him for all the confusing things he's feeling, but he has to smile incredulously at that.]

What - like I need you to rub the walk of shame in my face?

[He doesn't entirely understand that sentence, but his eyes still fly open at the word "shame."]

Non! I did not mean - I feel no shame. [Slowly, he starts to sit up, becoming aware as soon as he moves of a horrible throbbing at the back of his skull. He groans, but manages to get himself upright.]

Je - je ne sais pas -

[What to do. What to say. How to deal with any of this.]

No, no - [he lifts one hand, making sure it's the clean one, and moves to sit up so they're at eye level.] It was a joke - I mean - sorry. Super inappropriate.

[gushduageuahdsg. He deflates a bit.]

... I guess I should just.

[He looks toward the door.]

Ouais.

[He doesn't exactly sound defeated, but there's definitely an edge of that same deflation that Romain is obviously feeling. They've come down off a huge high and now have no idea where they landed.

But first, one last time:]

... merci.

Yeah.

[that. he begins to move out of the bed, lifts the hand that's... really just filthy. sticky. ack.]

Do you mind if I just - use the bathroom before I go?

Ah - oui. [Wait, "Do you mind," he's supposed to answer:] Non. [But he just said -] Bien sûr, tu peux.

[The awkwardness could be cut with a knife. He climbs out of bed and heads straight for the fridge, for a bottle of water to start cutting this headache while he puts on the coffee that'll do the heavy lifting. It's not entirely to put his back to Romain while he leaves, but that isn't really something he wants to watch, either.]

[he nods, hides in the bathroom for a little while and comes back out zipping up his pants. Yeah, he should have done that behind the door, shouldn't he. Woop.]

So, uhm. Thanks.

[He's ready to go, but at the last second decides not to turn the doorknob. Because this looks like a one night stand that he woke up instantly regretting and... that's not how he feels. Even when he thought he would.]

Listen, I... I don't want you to think I'm running away from you or anything.

[He stills with a scoop of coffee halfway to the filter basket, then slowly turns around in exactly that position. Just unsure, but very stiff because of it. He's been speaking French all morning, but he thinks it's time to switch again - as hard as that is with a screaming headache.]

What - are you doing? [No accusation. He really wants to know.]

[... good question.]

I don't actually know. I don't know what I've been doing since last night.

[If that's hurtful, he doesn't realize it at all. He's just really confused.]

[It is hurtful. If nothing else, he at least seemed to have made all the choices for himself, so to say he doesn't know - Ghyslain gives a little wince, sucking his lips between his teeth.]

Did I - make you feel -

[Coerce is the word he wants, but it's way out of his grasp.]

- I did try not to make you feel anything was expected.

[He thinks the opposite - that Ghyslain is wondering if he made Romain feel something like love. Which is a scary thing to ask, just as much as the other, and it makes Romain lose his words all over again.]

I don't know. I mean - I don't regret it, I don't, but.

[ugh. These conversations are hard enough when he's familiar with the scenario.]

I need some time to think. Before I end up hurting your feelings.

[No regret. That's the best news he's had all morning, and makes air rush back into his lungs.]

That is - oui, that is best. [He starts to turn away, focus on his coffee again, but he has to say something else first.] Je ne suis pas attaché, Romain.

[He likes this young man, yes. Very much. And last night was thrilling. But he won't bash his heart against any more brick walls; there will be a sting, not an open wound.]

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quantities - 2015-06-20 01:09 (UTC) - Expand

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