part 21 - rated nc-17
Nov. 20th, 2003 12:36 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
smackenzieFor the first time in a long time Laurie was woken not by an alarm clock and not by a ringing cell phone, but by sunlight filtering through curtains and the weird feeling that someone was staring at him. A few years ago when his apartment building was being fumigated, Laurie had crashed on Mission's couch for a couple of nights, back before Mission bought his house, when he still lived in an apartment with a girlfriend and a cat and a drum kit. The cat would wake him up one of two ways - either by walking on his head, which it did once and learned not to do again because he shoved it hard off the couch, or by sitting on a chair and staring at him. For some reason that always woke him up.
This was like that, except when he opened his eyes and managed to focus (Laurie was not and would never be a morning person), the starer was Parrish, squatting on the floor with a camera. Pointed at him.
"Uh... morning?" Laurie said.
"Good morning," Parrish said cheerfully. He leaned forward, braced himself against the edge of the mattress, and kissed Laurie on the mouth. He tasted like coffee.
"Mmmm. I taste caffienated joy. What's with the camera?"
"Do you mind?" Parrish leaned back. He looked equal parts concerned and really pleased with himself. "You looked so peaceful like that, and so cute all wrapped in my comforter."
"It is really comfortable...." Laurie grinned. "But I look like shit in the morning."
"Oh no, you don't. You look sweet and kissable." As if to prove his point, Parrish leaned in again and took another kiss. "Morning breath. Yummy."
"Wiseass."
"Sometimes, yes." Parrish leaned back, brought up the camera, and said "Say cheese." Laurie stuck his tongue out at the lens. Parrish took the picture. "Do you plan to use that on me?"
"Come over here and find out."
Parrish put his camera on the carpeted floor, crawled over to the bed, and rested his chin on the mattress. He smiled at Laurie. He was fucking adorable and Laurie wanted nothing more than to kiss him until they were both hard, and then drag him up onto the bed and fuck him some more.
Parrish lifted a hand and brushed Laurie's hair away from his face. It tended to do that in the morning - fall in his eyes. It was mostly straight and long enough to hang in his face, and people seemed to think it looked good on him and was very attractive hanging in his eyes. And to be honest, he liked it that way. He wore it back in a ponytail at the restaurant and the rest of the time either tucked it behind his ears (where it never stayed) or just flicked it away from his face or tossed his head so he could see. It was one of his more endearing mannerisms, or so people thought.
And now Parrish seemed to like it too. His hand drifted across Laurie's face and down his cheek and along his jawbone. Laurie closed his eyes and leaned into the touch. Parrish was very gentle. Except for last night....
Remembering the insistence with which Parrish kissed him and the determination with which he'd stroked his own cock while Laurie fucked him and the way he pushed down or up or wherever would most encourage Laurie to thrust harder and deeper made Laurie think he wasn't always so gentle after all.
Then Parrish kissed him again, and that was definitely a soft morning kiss. Hmm. But Parrish's hand had migrated around to the back of Laurie's neck, and Parrish was holding his face close, and as they kissed and their lips parted and their tongues met, the gentleness melted into fierceness and before Laurie knew it, Parrish had climbed onto the bed and under the covers and was sliding close, stretched along the length of Laurie's body, their mouths still locked while their bodies moved together.
Parrish was wearing pajama bottoms, and Laurie tugged at them under the covers. He was hard now and he wanted this boy, wanted to feel his skin and wanted to taste him and wanted so badly to fuck him, to see his face when he came.
"Laurie," Parrish murmured into his mouth, after he'd gotten his pajama bottoms off and shoved them out of the bed and onto the floor.
"Mmm."
"I want to ride you." Parrish pulled his head away just far enough to look Laurie in the face. His eyes were kind of gray-green, Laurie noticed, and they were bright this morning, awake with coffee or lust or whatever plan was brewing inside his head. "I want to straddle you and look down on you as I fondle myself, as I bring myself to orgasm and climax on your chest." Laurie couldn't help but moan at that, although he certainly was helped along by Parrish's hand warm around his cock. "I want to see your face as you thrust up into me. I want to feel you coming hard inside me. I want you, Laurie, I want you so very much...."
"If you don't stop talking," Laurie managed to say, "and if you don't let go of my dick, I'm going to come in your hand in, like, ten seconds." Parrish laughed and his hand clenched tight around Laurie's prick, cutting him off.
Then he was sliding over Laurie's body, now stretched out on top of him instead of next to him, and for a bare second Laurie wanted to shove him off. But it was a completely irrational reaction, he knew, and so he just wriggled a little, for the friction, and grinned. Parrish licked at his nose.
"You're not too heavy," Laurie said, which just made Parrish grind down hard on him, which of course just made him more aroused. Laurie slung an arm around Parrish's neck and held him close while they kissed again, and his legs of their own accord went around Parrish's waist, and now it was Laurie who pushed up and Parrish who seemed intent on driving him through the mattress.
But just like last night it felt as if they moved together and kissed forever and for no time at all, and they were both panting and moaning and so close, Parrish leaned over and grabbed the lube, then sat up and sat back and Laurie watched with increasing desire as Parrish lubricated his fingers and slid them into his own ass.
Jesus Christ, that was the sexiest fucking thing Laurie had ever seen. Parrish kept his eyes locked on Laurie's face as his hips rose and fell slightly with the motion of his fingers, and Laurie reached for his own cock and stroked lightly as he watched.
Parrish was leaning over him again, reaching for a condom, when Laurie's cell phone rang.
"Sweet suffering fuck," he muttered.
"Let it ring," Parrish murmured, leaning down to cover his mouth in another of those deeply distracting kisses.
"No, it might be Danny, or my mom - no one calls my cell in the morning unless it's an emergency, because it means they tried my house and I wasn't there."
He didn't mention that once or twice jealous boys had called him at eight in the morning, thinking he was with someone else. Usually because he WAS with someone else....
"Damn," Parrish said. He even looked disappointed.
"I'll tell them to fuck off and I'll call them back later, ok? I want to watch you finger fucking yourself some more. I mean, shit, Parrish."
"Answer your phone." Parrish grinned. The phone was still playing its tinny little electronic version of the Stray Cats. Parrish helpfully shifted off Laurie so he could deal with it.
"What," he said into the phone, thinking This better be important. He hated being interrupted.
"Where the fuck are you?" It was Lea. "Bader Glassman's been trying to get a hold of you since yesterday."
"I'm at Parrish's. The date kind of went over. Who's looking for me?"
"Bader Glassman. Gunther's brother."
Gunther Glassman was a musician they knew - a drummer. He'd played on a couple of songs on Steerpike's Peake EP, and had once upon a time been part of an actual live band that played around Eden and surrounding towns for a couple of years. He'd been a studio musician and kind of fill-in drummer for the past two or three years and was even managing to make a full-time living at it. Mission had always been impressed by Gunther's work ethic and the amount of time he devoted to his music. Bran had always liked his professionalism. Lea just thought he was a nice, nice guy. And Laurie thought he was a good kisser and a lovely fuck.
They'd slept together a few times, although they never went out and were never serious, and they were still friends. But Gunther had been in Canada for about four months and no one had heard much from or about him, other than he was there with a boy and was working and playing with some local Ontario band. So why was his brother calling Laurie?
"What's Bader Glassman want?" he asked Lea.
"Gunther killed himself."
words: 1550
total words: 41,764
This was like that, except when he opened his eyes and managed to focus (Laurie was not and would never be a morning person), the starer was Parrish, squatting on the floor with a camera. Pointed at him.
"Uh... morning?" Laurie said.
"Good morning," Parrish said cheerfully. He leaned forward, braced himself against the edge of the mattress, and kissed Laurie on the mouth. He tasted like coffee.
"Mmmm. I taste caffienated joy. What's with the camera?"
"Do you mind?" Parrish leaned back. He looked equal parts concerned and really pleased with himself. "You looked so peaceful like that, and so cute all wrapped in my comforter."
"It is really comfortable...." Laurie grinned. "But I look like shit in the morning."
"Oh no, you don't. You look sweet and kissable." As if to prove his point, Parrish leaned in again and took another kiss. "Morning breath. Yummy."
"Wiseass."
"Sometimes, yes." Parrish leaned back, brought up the camera, and said "Say cheese." Laurie stuck his tongue out at the lens. Parrish took the picture. "Do you plan to use that on me?"
"Come over here and find out."
Parrish put his camera on the carpeted floor, crawled over to the bed, and rested his chin on the mattress. He smiled at Laurie. He was fucking adorable and Laurie wanted nothing more than to kiss him until they were both hard, and then drag him up onto the bed and fuck him some more.
Parrish lifted a hand and brushed Laurie's hair away from his face. It tended to do that in the morning - fall in his eyes. It was mostly straight and long enough to hang in his face, and people seemed to think it looked good on him and was very attractive hanging in his eyes. And to be honest, he liked it that way. He wore it back in a ponytail at the restaurant and the rest of the time either tucked it behind his ears (where it never stayed) or just flicked it away from his face or tossed his head so he could see. It was one of his more endearing mannerisms, or so people thought.
And now Parrish seemed to like it too. His hand drifted across Laurie's face and down his cheek and along his jawbone. Laurie closed his eyes and leaned into the touch. Parrish was very gentle. Except for last night....
Remembering the insistence with which Parrish kissed him and the determination with which he'd stroked his own cock while Laurie fucked him and the way he pushed down or up or wherever would most encourage Laurie to thrust harder and deeper made Laurie think he wasn't always so gentle after all.
Then Parrish kissed him again, and that was definitely a soft morning kiss. Hmm. But Parrish's hand had migrated around to the back of Laurie's neck, and Parrish was holding his face close, and as they kissed and their lips parted and their tongues met, the gentleness melted into fierceness and before Laurie knew it, Parrish had climbed onto the bed and under the covers and was sliding close, stretched along the length of Laurie's body, their mouths still locked while their bodies moved together.
Parrish was wearing pajama bottoms, and Laurie tugged at them under the covers. He was hard now and he wanted this boy, wanted to feel his skin and wanted to taste him and wanted so badly to fuck him, to see his face when he came.
"Laurie," Parrish murmured into his mouth, after he'd gotten his pajama bottoms off and shoved them out of the bed and onto the floor.
"Mmm."
"I want to ride you." Parrish pulled his head away just far enough to look Laurie in the face. His eyes were kind of gray-green, Laurie noticed, and they were bright this morning, awake with coffee or lust or whatever plan was brewing inside his head. "I want to straddle you and look down on you as I fondle myself, as I bring myself to orgasm and climax on your chest." Laurie couldn't help but moan at that, although he certainly was helped along by Parrish's hand warm around his cock. "I want to see your face as you thrust up into me. I want to feel you coming hard inside me. I want you, Laurie, I want you so very much...."
"If you don't stop talking," Laurie managed to say, "and if you don't let go of my dick, I'm going to come in your hand in, like, ten seconds." Parrish laughed and his hand clenched tight around Laurie's prick, cutting him off.
Then he was sliding over Laurie's body, now stretched out on top of him instead of next to him, and for a bare second Laurie wanted to shove him off. But it was a completely irrational reaction, he knew, and so he just wriggled a little, for the friction, and grinned. Parrish licked at his nose.
"You're not too heavy," Laurie said, which just made Parrish grind down hard on him, which of course just made him more aroused. Laurie slung an arm around Parrish's neck and held him close while they kissed again, and his legs of their own accord went around Parrish's waist, and now it was Laurie who pushed up and Parrish who seemed intent on driving him through the mattress.
But just like last night it felt as if they moved together and kissed forever and for no time at all, and they were both panting and moaning and so close, Parrish leaned over and grabbed the lube, then sat up and sat back and Laurie watched with increasing desire as Parrish lubricated his fingers and slid them into his own ass.
Jesus Christ, that was the sexiest fucking thing Laurie had ever seen. Parrish kept his eyes locked on Laurie's face as his hips rose and fell slightly with the motion of his fingers, and Laurie reached for his own cock and stroked lightly as he watched.
Parrish was leaning over him again, reaching for a condom, when Laurie's cell phone rang.
"Sweet suffering fuck," he muttered.
"Let it ring," Parrish murmured, leaning down to cover his mouth in another of those deeply distracting kisses.
"No, it might be Danny, or my mom - no one calls my cell in the morning unless it's an emergency, because it means they tried my house and I wasn't there."
He didn't mention that once or twice jealous boys had called him at eight in the morning, thinking he was with someone else. Usually because he WAS with someone else....
"Damn," Parrish said. He even looked disappointed.
"I'll tell them to fuck off and I'll call them back later, ok? I want to watch you finger fucking yourself some more. I mean, shit, Parrish."
"Answer your phone." Parrish grinned. The phone was still playing its tinny little electronic version of the Stray Cats. Parrish helpfully shifted off Laurie so he could deal with it.
"What," he said into the phone, thinking This better be important. He hated being interrupted.
"Where the fuck are you?" It was Lea. "Bader Glassman's been trying to get a hold of you since yesterday."
"I'm at Parrish's. The date kind of went over. Who's looking for me?"
"Bader Glassman. Gunther's brother."
Gunther Glassman was a musician they knew - a drummer. He'd played on a couple of songs on Steerpike's Peake EP, and had once upon a time been part of an actual live band that played around Eden and surrounding towns for a couple of years. He'd been a studio musician and kind of fill-in drummer for the past two or three years and was even managing to make a full-time living at it. Mission had always been impressed by Gunther's work ethic and the amount of time he devoted to his music. Bran had always liked his professionalism. Lea just thought he was a nice, nice guy. And Laurie thought he was a good kisser and a lovely fuck.
They'd slept together a few times, although they never went out and were never serious, and they were still friends. But Gunther had been in Canada for about four months and no one had heard much from or about him, other than he was there with a boy and was working and playing with some local Ontario band. So why was his brother calling Laurie?
"What's Bader Glassman want?" he asked Lea.
"Gunther killed himself."
words: 1550
total words: 41,764
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Date: 2003-11-20 05:18 am (UTC)ó_ò
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Date: 2003-11-20 06:47 am (UTC)