killingsoftly: (Against all odds -- Warren)
[personal profile] killingsoftly
Devin settled, there among the trees. There were people, but they faded as he tried to get to the heart of his discontent. He'd upset Warren with his refusal in the department store and while that was bound to happen sometimes, it wasn't something he wanted to happen over something like this.

He knew that a large part of the problem was that he didn't ask for things for himself. He fed on others' pleasure and thus increasing their pleasure had always been his goal. When asked what he wanted them to do to him, he usually was able to delve into them, see what it was they wanted to do most, and say that, which delighted them which delighted him.

What he couldn't figure out was why he'd latched on to this so fiercely. He had other fantasies of things he'd like to do with and to Warren. A few weeks ago, having him in his mouth anywhere would have been a dream come true. It still was, really, and he felt himself stir at the memory of the first time, the sounds he'd made, the look in his eyes, how he'd tasted. He'd gotten to do that again. He could do it anytime he wanted, as evidenced by the ice cream play. And now they'd added to that and he could have him fully. He knew how it felt to bury himself deep inside, to move with him, to join with him. It wasn't just something he thought about when he was in the shower relieving his ache.

It might not have been what he'd wanted when he'd imagined it. Might not have been quite as thorough, but he was missing the joy of what it had been in his disappointment, and that wasn't like him. There had been pleasure, intense pleasure, and he'd felt it second-hand, added to his own pleasure in tasting his lover, in making him want to scream. There were a lot of things that would still be firsts for Warren, and this one had been for him, too. Another time, another place, another dressing room, would be another first. The first time he was able to get past those reservations and fuck him up against the wall. The first time Warren decided he needed him urgently and found somewhere to ravish him. Maybe one time would be there and he could say it was somewhere he'd never been ravished before.

Right now he could say he'd never been fucked by Warren, though that was a sort of sham first, really, as it wouldn't be his first time being fucked. But there were firsts out there they had to be able to explore. Something new for both of them, and even if there weren't...everything was new with Warren, because it was the first time he'd done any of these things with a man he loved. First time he'd done a lot of them with someone he loved, period. That made it all different, didn't it? The intensity of the need. It wasn't about feeding, it was about sharing. It wasn't just fucking. It was making love, even if that sounded horribly girly to say.

The acts might be the same, but he knew they were different with emotion behind them. More wondrous, and that wonder was something he knew he needed to hold tight to and embrace. Perhaps not the wonder of "So this is what it feels like to have sex on an airplane," but the wonder of "This is what it feels like to show my lover something new, to feel the person I love inside me here" more intense than any other fumble in those tiny bathrooms.

There was awe and wonder and discovery there in every touch that put the rest of it in the pale. Not about the place or the position, perhaps, though he was still determined to find something that could be theirs somehow. His mind kicked him, reminding him that even if he'd done something before, none of it had been sacrosanct to a person. It wasn't like he had things that were his and Byron's exclusively, or his and Wilde's. He could make something his and Warren's, something Warren delighted in. Some place that the two of them discovered.

He might have had sex on top of a mountain, but that didn't mean that he'd had sex on top of all mountains or by all lakes.

There was a world of possibilities and it was foolish to get so...caught up in something so trivial. It had still been a first and things very rarely went the way we thought they would in our heads. They just were and this was and Warren had been pleased and he'd been pleased Warren was pleased, and Warren had taken care of him in the park and that was another first for Warren.

The niggle of something akin to regret was still there when he finally stood, but he was a lot more at peace with it. It had been a wonderful day, and it would be a wonderful night, and there would be a next time.

And perhaps he needed to learn to speak up, to whisper fantasies in Warren's ear, to tell him what he wanted to do to him, wanted him to do in return.

Perhaps.
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September 2007

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