Diclaimer: 'Tis not mine. Work of f(r)iction
I heave a heavy sigh as my eyes dance down the elegant words that have plastered the screen. Two chiding fingers fumble with my gelled hair at the side of my head, scraping past my lip ring on the way. Before I know it my head is bobbing back and forth to an invisible beat, as I stare in utter disdain at the glowing screen.
'This is just bullshit,' my irritated hues mutter with the weight of my anger.
And with that I close the window, unable to read the elaborately scrolled set of stories before me. I hear a soft chuckle from the kitchen, and in the arched doorway to the left Jere appears, an offering of beer in his hand. He tips the beverage towards me, and I gladly accept, guzzling down the liquid like it's the air I breathe.
'Some fan girl send you a ''OH MY GAWD, YOU NEED TO LYKE, MARRY ME NOW!!'' e-mail?'
I choke, and Jeremiah smirks, lazy eyebrows fading upwards. My hand hastily comes up to wipe away the sputtered beer that decorates the corners of my mouth, and I'm defiantly shaking my head.
'Hardly,' I snort, trying to regain my composure.
'Then what?' Jeremiah replies quite couth, sauntering around to the back of the chair and carelessly resting a lazy limb across the back of it.
'Awh, you've gone and closed the window on me,' Jeremiah says with a slight pout, staring at the boring and cliche desktop background of the computer.
'What were you looking at, slash writing?'
I, in turn, choke again. More of the contents of this bottle will end up sprayed on the computer desk than in my esophagus, I swear. I can feel a blush seeping the pores that hide along my skin, and I'm fumbling like a moron for sentences.
'Oh, whatever that's cool, it's not like you're looking Matt and Jeremiah pairing,' Jere offers with a chuckle, pausing as an awkward silence hovers in the air.
'...Are you, Matt?'
'Well, I'm obviously not anymore,' I answer with a snort, and sip back some more beer. I'm not going to let something like that get to me. It's just a curiosity, after all.
I can tell Jeremiah is smirking from behind me, and the only thing that can be picked up via sound in the room is the two subtle bodies breathing, and the odd clink of when Jeremiah's beer bottle accidentally collides with his teeth. It's somewhat unnerving, really, but I'm not going to go and make a fool of myself so soon. Instead we both stare at the desktop.
'Do you know what really pisses me off?' Jeremiah begins, pausing, and finishing off whatever is left in the bottle of beer. He leans over my left shoulder, fingertips grasping the mouse, and opens up a window to the internet. His scent wafts in my nostrils, and I shake my head, both to rid myself of the intoxication and answer his question- at the same time.
'Well,' Jere begins, opening a livejournal community and clicking on a few ''Miah/Matt'' stories, 'In every single one of these I'm either A: Emo or B: the Bitch. Everyone knows I wouldn't be the bitch. And Emo? You've gotta be fucking kidding me.'
Jere's sort of right. He's got this sexy, strong and silent thing going for him. He's not emo, no, nowhere near it in fact. That doesn't stop me from bugging him none the less.
'Well, Emo Jere, that's not what pisses me off.'
He's tensed, and I can tell he wants to retaliate like a rabid bulldog. Instead he nominates for letting me finish my sentence.
'Every single one of these communities is either a 'Matt loves Jere', or 'Tony loves Miah'. Apparently you are a greedy fucker, and you love no one.'
'Greedy, yes, but not Emo,' Jeremiah retorts with a slightly bitter laugh, closing the window. I grin to myself.
'That was kind of Emo, Jeremiah.'
'Fuck off, Matt.'
'You're angry because I'm right.'
'No, I'm angry because you're full of shit.'
'Well, I was half right, you are angry.'
In the duration of this argument I've managed to pivot in my seat, turning to retaliate against each of his propositions with a witty comment. His face is only a few inches from mine, and I can feel his warm breath against my skin. I pause momentarily with my assault, letting the next few words fall with impact.
'Besides, you'd be the bitch.'
The lighting in this room is horrible. I can't tell for a second what he's thinking because his dark hair is covering his eyes, and casting shadows in such a way that it makes his features completely unreadable.
That doesn't stop me from picking up on the mood that's somehow manipulating itself into existence. Now, Jeremiah and I, we're both admittedly bisexual, so that wouldn't be the issue in us doing anything in the means of fucking around with each other. That issue would more draw along the lines of ''We're best friends, and I really don't want to fuck up anything we've built so carefully between us.''
Fuck, though, he's so hot. Jeremiah's got this mysteriously intent look about him, and with his arm cascading just to the right of me I can see the black fabric stretched tautly across his bicep and chest. My eyes are wandering along the contours of his body, and I quickly realize that I'm eye raping him. I turn away, attempting to regain some dignity by chugging the remainder of my beer and avoid what has just transpired. My head falls back, resting easily against Jere's arm that had arrived there only moments before.
'I wouldn't be the bitch..' Jeremiah sighs softly, and I open my eyes look up to seem him pleading with me via vision. Grinning once more I chuckle and close my eyes.
'Sure you wouldn't, Jere. Just keep telling yourself that.'
'But I wouldn't!'
'Oh, how very Emo of you, Jere.'
'Do I have to prove it to you?'
I pause here, and quirk one eye open. Jeremiah is looking at me with a mixture of emotions, and now that were closer I'm able to read his expressions a little bit more clearly. The clarification kind of shocks me. With the arrival of my full vision, I swallow, and stand from my chair. It earns a squeak from it, which echos as I pause, and turn to face my best friend.
'Jere, just accept the fact that you'd be the bitch.'
Jere has met my stance, and we're now just about a foot away from each other. My one hand is resting easily on my hip, while the other dances through the air in hopes to make these facts clear to him.
'How do I have to make this clear to you that I wouldn't be?' Jere refutes defensively, a fly away hand scratching along his skull.
I open my mouth a few times, and in the dull light that shimmers forth from the kitchen and computer screen we both come to some sort of fucked up realization. Our eyes lock, and both of us have fallen into a slow breathing rate. The lack of oxygen must be making us crazy.
'Well...' Jeremiah begins, eyes glancing down for a moment before taking a bold step forward to meet my gaze once more, 'I guess there's only really one way to find out, isn't there?'
Beautifully long fingers slide up my jawline and cup my face, tipping my head up just so to align our faces. There's a momentary pause as Jeremiah searches my eyes for some sort resentment, or reason to stop, but I give him none except a pure thirst for what is seemingly about to happen.
Jeremiah's lips brush down softly with mine, teasing, gentle, somewhat reminiscent of what a first kiss is like by the means of the fact that you don't know what the fuck you're doing. Growling darkly I catch his lower lip between my teeth and pull it rather harshly. I can feel Jere suck in sharply, and my heavy lidded eyes dance up to meet his form for a moment with a maniacal laughter in them.
Then it's pure and utter force. My body crashes against his- tall, slender, gorgeously made by what appears to be the hands of Gods. Jeremiah wastes no time in returning the favor, his own body squirming against my own, hands working quickly to tease themselves underneath the fabric of my dark band t-shirt. I'm working him back towards the wall, demanding and insistent, our bodies molding to one another. I smirk when the weight of his body collides with the wall, my hand snaking up his back to grab a piece of that ebony hair and tug his head backwards.
Jeremiah arches against me, and I busily begin to work against the pale column of skin exposed before me. Sparking like electricity, my lips work their way down, tearing softly at the skin, and sucking at the pleasure spots I know he has because he's foolishly told me about them before. Jere lets out a low groan, his head tilting to the side, eyebrows arching upwards in sexual tension, and fingernails dragging lines down my back.
We're not foolish. We both know that this is a test, a query to see who was right about the argument conceived only minutes before. In order for either to win we're both going to have use every single manipulative piece of work that our minds and bodies can create.
Jeremiah doesn't seem to mind taking some pleasure out of this experience though, and neither do I. His head tilts back to mine, savagely catching my lips with his, swirling his tongue past my lips to torturously dance with my own. Appreciatively I groan, knee slipping between Jere's legs to bring our bodies to a closer proximity. Gasping in each other's mouths we continue, pulling, straining, and attempting to simply devour each other.
But this isn't getting anywhere. Jeremiah has to prove a point, and so do I, though I'm not sure how exactly I'm going to go about doing this. I'm going to have to use every single ounce of wisdom that was every gifted to me in order to seduce Jeremiah. As if realizing my train of thoughts Jere twists, abruptly shaking my body from it's stance and forcing it up against the wall in a simple spin-turn-pin movement. Jeremiah towers over me, his body caging mine between him and the painted surface, arm bordering either side of my body.
Hungrily his lips fall to mine, and I willingly accept because I've fuckin' missed them plastered against mine in the few seconds they were gone. Ferociously we combat in the lip lock, uncontrollably tormenting one another with a series of flicks, and nibbles. Jeremiah's tongue drags along my lower lip and he pulls away, eyes falling heavily upon mine. We're panting, gaining the oxygen that we had so greedily been siphoning from the opposite. His arm is still positioned over my head, while the other has managed to secure itself at my waist. Jere's lips are wet and swollen, his body heaving against mine, and he's most likely the sexiest thing I've ever seen. Somehow I find myself talking.
'Jere...' I whisper with a cocky smirk, my fingers trailing to the hem of his shirt and tugging it upwards. He quietly submits, his arms raised above his head. The exposure of his toned body elicits a slight moan from my lips as my fingers move to toy with the soft palette of skin I've discovered.
'I had no idea you were so fucking good at this kissing thing.'
It's the Guitarists turn to smile darkly, as he leans down to address my lips with a calm, soft display of affection. I barely notice his fingers tugging my own fabric away, until he pauses to lift the Misfit's shirt over my head. As it's tossed to join the other discarded on the floor his dark eyes roam my body, carefully coming to rest of my self confident smirk. He leans in, dragging the flesh of my lip between his teeth with a grin.
'I could say the same to you, Matthew.'
Those seductive lips slide, caressing my body with a surprising catching bite along it's descent, stealing my skin away from the sinew of my muscles until the point of pleasure and pain is so blurred that I can't even differentiate which I like more. He pauses at my nipples, teasing them with circles of his tongue, grazing them with his teeth. I moan. I moan so incredibly loud that I could be the star of a fucking porn flick. Jeremiah, however, doesn't stop. Instead his fingers work at the belt holding up my pants, stealing it away with an amazing amount of skill. A few more seconds, and my pants are sliding down my thighs, accompanied by my boxers.
Jeremiah spares me one last glance, and my lower lip tugs beneath my teeth at the proposition of what is certain to come. A pink tongue flicks from between barely parted lips, warm breathe trickling over the head of my cock, and I outright groan. My head tilts back, and I can feel the muscles striving to keep it from tumbling away into nothing.
One of my hands laces itself through Jere's dark hair, though not persuasively. The other is dragging itself down my face as a raspy gasp sputters from my lips.
'Oh fuck.. Jere...'
And he swallows me. All of me. His head is moving up and down, bobbing against me, and he's deep throating me just like that. The sudden shock of it makes it hard for me not to cum right then and there. Jere continues this little teasing game, his tongue swirling about the underside of my cock, and I'm seeing stars. Bright, brilliant stars. I'm about ready to explode, and he stops. I have to say that the man is a mighty fine planner.
Jeremiah slides up my body, dragging out the friction of skin against skin, and his mouth hovers above mine. I demandingly seal my lips to his own, the scent of myself upon him driving me mad.
'Matt....' Jere mutters, driving away, surety slick on his rough and raspy hues.
'Matt, do you want me to fuck you?' Jere continues, his hand reaching out boldly to catch my still throbbing erection.
I nod my head furiously, moaning out something of a yes, and Jere's back to feverishly kissing me, a slight smile decorating his face. I struggle with the zipper on his pants, and his hand is off grabbing some sort of lotion from a nearby table. Stepping out of my own pool of jeans, I go back to the constricting grinding that the two of us have been sedately drugging ourselves with for the past few minutes. Jeremiah groans, his pants slipping away as my fingers lock with the elastic of his boxers.
His boxers are halfway down his legs when he thrust the cold and lubricated fingers into my ass. I groan out at the sudden contact, surprised by it, but loving it at the same time. I never once dreamed that fooling around with Jeremiah could be so...forceful.
He fits one finger, and then inserts a second, and I'm groaning and writhing against his form as I'm pinned against the wall. Jeremiah grins darkly, his lips pausing to tease mine for the moment it takes him to lube himself. Then he's forcing into me, and my legs at wrapping about his midsection so tightly that I could swear he's the addictive substance I've been missing in my life. Jeremiah immediately groans out, low and dark, a sound that only makes me move against him as his warm breath crawls against my earlobe.
'Matty... fuck... Ride me.. just like...fuck..'
There's a point in sex where there's nothing you could possibly do to string a coherent sentence together. Jere and I have both reached that point. I'm groaning, divulging his name every few seconds before placing quick and hungry kisses against his lips, to which he eagerly returns. His own mouth is spewing forth a set of his own odd profanities, my name integrated among it, and he's pounding into me so hard that each time is growing to earn him a hitching gasp. This folds over to a moan as he hits something inside of me that makes everything blank out with pleasure, turning over my reeling sentences to sudden and drawn out whorish yells.
'Oh...Miah- Miah... keep-fucking-GOING!' I manage, my head falling back as my body arches against his. My eyebrows at collected together in a knot, and my entire body trembles as I release against the skin between us in ribbons. With a final and definitive thrust Jeremiah groans out my name and orgasms himself, meagerly moving a few more times to ride out the sensation.
Both of us are breathing heavily, lips collecting the other's for a momentarily soft kiss.
Affectionatively Jeremiah strokes a finger down my cheek and I brush the hair out of his face.
'I guess this means you win, Jeremiah,' I mutter with a little bit of difficulty as the Guitarist slips out of me, slumping his form against me. Jere nuzzles my neck fondly, placing a few selective kisses.
'I knew I would.'
I smirk a bit, and run my fingers through his hair.
'To my defense, however, you were the one with my cock in your mouth first.'
Jeremiah moves his head back with a small grin.
'That was a tactical move on my part. 'Sides, that wasn't part of the argument, now was it?'
'Well, I'll just say that I never thought that you'd be like... well.. that, Matt. It was fucking hot.'
He's regarding me with those dark and smoldering eyes, and I realize that I'm offering him an inviting grin in response.
'We just might have to make a habit out of this then.'
'We might,' Jere agrees, weakly stumbling to a stand. He looks awkward for a moment, and then opts to mutter 'Your cousin is supposed to be here in twenty minutes. The house wreaks of sex.'
'So?' I offer, stumbling to my own stand and collecting my clothing on the way.
'It's not like Tony hasn't ever encountered such a scent before.'
'True,' Jeremiah replies calmly with a grin. He winks at me, and I feel a slight blush grow on my skin.
'If only those livejournal writers could see us now.'