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 Posted: Sat Sep 17, 2016 10:45 am
And—
And Jamie was speaking, leaving the thought to linger on his tongue. Truth be told, as Jamie spoke, Shiloh wasn't sure he had the words to even put to the feelings that he felt in that moment. Jamie was his best friend, Jamie was someone he felt like he could trust, Jamie was someone who could make him smile even when he felt like giving up. Did that take a special talent? Or just a special person? Maybe it was just the recklessness of youth. Maybe it was that night at Blackfriars, almost dying and what not.
Except Shiloh knew this feeling had lingered a lot before Blackfrairs. It was something he started to notice in all the subtle things, all the little quirks Jamie had; it was the way his eyes twinkled when he talked about his fish or the flush he would get on his face at a compliment. It was a series of things that Shiloh called firsts, because if there was anything he knew about Jamie, it was that this experience was entirely new and Shiloh was almost positive he was the first one seeing these sorts of reactions. It was nice in a way, sad in another. Jamie was sweet and kind and gentle and it made Shiloh want to hunt down all the people who've ever wronged him.
He squeezed his hand again, only to let go. His fingertips trailed along Jamie's, absolutely mesmerized with the feeling of this touch. It was a series of firsts for Shiloh too. He felt guilty, giving into this sort of incredible warmth—like he wasn't being true to himself, wasn't following his gut level instinct that told him this was dangerous. Life was dangerous. His gaze caught the white hare ears that adorned Jamie's head.
"And..." he smiled as Jamie admitted his own feelings, confirmed their friendship, confirmed his relief. Something on Shiloh's heart—something that had felt so weighted and tight for so long—finally lifted. It wasn't a complete release, but it made it easier for him to breathe, made him feel light. He let his eyes drift shut with a smile. When he opened them, there was an entirely new softness in his expression.
"Whatever happens..." he didn't finish the thought, because he realized he was done talking about it. He didn't want to lament on all the fears and pains and worries that this night had brought them and he didn't want to think about all the troubles the future would bring. They'd be there for him tomorrow, but this was tonight, this was their time. They could go into the future together, and god Shiloh felt really gay for thinking that.
The closeness of their faces and the warmth they were sharing between them all cultivated with the darkness of the atmosphere, the relief of them being battered but okay, the knowledge that they had each other; Shiloh wasn't thinking—and honestly, did he ever think things through?—because the answer was rarely. This was no exception. His body moved, stiff from his wounds but gentle in his intentions, as he gave into the bizarre fondness that Jamie seemed to bring out in him. He could feel their hair brushing as he set their foreheads together, not stopping long enough to wonder, never missing a beat as he closed the space between them with a delicate brush of their lips.
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Posted: Sat Sep 17, 2016 1:06 pm
Life was dangerous. They'd already learned that much in a single night, and though he had no basis for knowing what would happen in the future, the fact that he still had white hare ears for Shiloh to notice made him think this likely wasn't the last time they'd have to face something they weren't fully prepared for. That was another thing they'd have to come to terms with, to work out between the two of them, because they didn't have to stand up to these things alone. For now, though, the moment passed, faded into something a little softer and a little more kind.
"Whatever happens," he agreed, closing the curtain on that train of thought entirely. He curled his fingers into Shiloh's touch and he felt the way it warmed him, straight through his palm and up his arm and through his heart and to his cheeks. It was dark, but in the glow of the aquariums he could see Shiloh's eyes shimmering. Likewise, Shiloh could see his, ever-fond.
A soft sound caught in Jamie's throat, a short question of intent immediately extinguished by action. There was a tickle at his temple as Shiloh's unruly hair mingled with his, so close he could feel his own breath trapped between them. There was a different sort of tickle in his stomach as their lips met.
Unsure with inexperience but hardly void of emotion, Jamie returned the small kiss with the faintest of pressure. In his chest mingled conflicting sentiments. It went unvocalized, but expressed regardless, that he felt something for Shiloh beyond that friendship. Yet Jamie struggled with things beyond simply liking someone. He struggled with fears, with inadequacies, with the ever-present need to conform and be accepted.
The feeling of being not-a-boy or of liking another guy, those were all things people considered wrong, weren't they? Why then in that moment did it feel even more incorrect to deny it? Why did kissing Shiloh feel right?
A nervous breath passed Jamie's lips against Shiloh's and then, for a moment, he stopped breathing. Right now, here in the dark with Shiloh, Jamie found his desires winning out over his irrationalities. When he breathed again, it was accompanied by a small, relieved sort of laugh. It was mere seconds before he cautiously leaned into a second kiss.
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Posted: Sat Sep 17, 2016 2:20 pm
It feels like a train smashing into back of his head when he realizes he's kissing Jamie Delacroix, but he doesn't stop himself. How can he? There's something thrilling in the terror. He wants to push him away and grab him closer at the same time. He wants to kiss him and revel in the emotion that's settled in his chest. It's warm and his lips are soft and goddamn it's the first time Shiloh's ever kissed somebody but he can already see why people find it addictive. It's relief. It's gratitude. Jamie is alive and his pulse is beating under his skin and they both survived. The kiss meant they didn't have to be alone; it didn't matter if it was messy or sloppy or if they were just two stupid teenagers rushing into things they couldn't even fathom; Shiloh was happy.
Even when they paused, even when they both hung in that silent purgatory of "wait, is this right?" turned "yeah, yeah it is"—it hardly felt real when Jamie pressed their lips back together, and in a brief moment of innocence Shiloh laughed. It was a light sound, gentle and soft but bubbling with exhilaration under his skin. The kiss broke with an impossible to contain smile.
"Uh," Shiloh "Graceful" Beaumont, "Sorry..." except the obvious chuckle that rumbled in his throat made it obvious he wasn't sorry for it at all. He didn't have the same insecurities Jamie had; he knew who he was, his demons came from the sheer uselessness that he saw in himself; his ineptitude. He didn't care if it was "right or wrong" to kiss boys and he didn't care about the social machinations and constructs of gender. He couldn't fathom the fears Jamie had to deal with, but if it ever came to that bridge...
He... they would cross it.
"So..." smooth Shiloh, smooth, "That... was a thing" he laughed again, quieter now, calmer, foreheads still set together.
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Posted: Sat Sep 17, 2016 5:00 pm
If the lights were on it would've been easy to see the deep red tint to Jamie's cheeks, but boy could he feel it like fire beneath his own skin. Wouldn't be surprised if Shiloh could feel the heat, too. Not that he had it in him to mind. At this point he'd well and truly opened himself up past the point of no return. There were no take backsies when you kissed your best friend.
All Shiloh got in return for his apology was another laugh, genuinely sweet with euphoria. Of course he wasn't sorry. Jamie wasn't sorry, either. In fact, the warmth in his chest more than chased off the specters of doubt that plagued him moments ago. He felt silly, like all he wanted to do was laugh, and while it was a bridge they'd probably have to cross at some point, right now it just didn't matter.
Shiloh had already been there for him more time than he could hope for, more times than he could count across such a realistically short span of time. So it was okay. They would cross it together.
"So..." Jamie mirrored, but his joking tone was cut with even more laughter as Shiloh continued. It was cozy like this, comfortable, and he almost didn't want to relinquish the feeling of Shiloh's forehead against his own for the sleep he knew they both probably needed. They were sore, injured, and it was late. A yawn fought its way out because he dared to think about how exhausted he was. Still-
"It was... it was a thing. And um... it was kinda... really nice..." at the end he trailed off sheepishly.
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Posted: Sat Sep 17, 2016 8:58 pm
The lights were blessedly off, so Jamie didn't have to see the deep crimson flush in Shiloh's cheeks. There was no fire under his skin; there was an ice so cold that it burned, and flushed against Jamie's skin it almost stung. The sensation was electric. It revitalized Shiloh in ways that he couldn't even put into words; there really was no turning back, not anymore, not at this point. Shiloh didn't want to take back kissing his best friend, though.
"Really nice..." Shiloh echoed with the faintest of murmurs, the smile never leaving his face. When Jamie yawned, so did he, and it only served to earn another gentle laugh. Sharing the same pillow made his eyes heavy and his mind thick with the thought of sleep. His hand was still on Jamie's and it was such a wonderful lifeline that he couldn't even fathom letting go.
He continued to trace gentle ministrations against his fingertips with his own, too mesmerized with the ghost of a touch to want to actually hold his hand.
"You think you can sleep?" he asked, tone sincere, "or..."
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Posted: Sun Sep 18, 2016 10:58 am
"I... probably could," he admitted with a small laugh, the sound gentle and relaxed. Did he want to? Yes and no. How nice it would be to stay here with Shiloh, awake and enjoying his company, silent or not. How much he wanted to continue feeling the touch against his fingertips, to occasionally curl his own fingers, sneaking them between Shiloh's with the softest of brushes.
At the same time, he was tired, drained both emotionally and physically. Their shared moment had rejuvenated his spirit, but it was quickly evening back out to a blissful, steady rhythm. Jamie was warm with relief and comfort and... he yawned again.
"Maybe we should..." Despite that, his hand never stopped against Shiloh's. It drifted as he began to, sleepily caressing skin, sometimes skimming the edge of fabric at his wrist before retreating again. It wasn't something Jamie truly meant to do, but the further he faded, the looser his thoughts became and the further his hand slipped until he found it fully against Shiloh's arm.
He paused and then it hit him, jolting him back to wakefulness when he really shouldn't have let himself go so far in the first place. Thoughts of Shiloh's scars reminded him of how careless he'd been. It... was this rude, would Shiloh be upset? His hand lingered there and he wasn't sure what to do, but the last thing he wanted was to yank his hand away as if something was wrong.
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Posted: Sun Sep 18, 2016 11:38 am
"Couldn't hurt..." he echoed as his voice cracked with exhaustion. He chuckled again, but it was far more sleepy, far more relaxed than it had been earlier. It wasn't laced with fear and sorrow and pain; it just was, stripped and tired and open. The atmosphere was clean of doubt, fresh with the dew left after a rainstorm. He breathed.
And honestly, somewhere between the passing minutes, Shiloh's own hand stilled. He was perfectly placated letting Jamie play with his hand, feeling his fingertips against his palm as they teased themselves perfectly between his own fingers. His mind grew hazy with the feeling, eyes drifting shut. He didn't notice as Jamie gave way to his wrist or to his arm. His own thought was keep touching me because it soothed him closer and closer to
It wasn't until Jamie gave pause that he slowly roused back to his own wakefulness, eyes still peacefully shut. Jamie's hand lingered there, and honestly—honestly, Shiloh couldn't fathom why. He had grown so comfortable with Jamie in the moment that it had never been a thought in his mind; who cared if Jamie touched his arms? He had nothing to hide.
Except he did—but didn't, really. Jamie had seen them, and Chris had too. Still, the realization made him tense, momentary panic hitching in his throat, but... it died. It settled. He grabbed it and crushed it and his body relaxed again in a gentle, fluid motion. He didn't know if Jamie's eyes were open or if he was watching him, but his own eyes remained closed to darkness where he didn't have to see and overthink. He chewed at his lip. "It's okay..." he finally managed, breathing still slow and even. "I don't mind. Or I wouldn't 've shown you in the first place..."
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Posted: Sun Sep 18, 2016 12:14 pm
Just like Shiloh, Jamie's eyes stayed shut. With only touch to guide him, he could feel the tensing—they were too close to miss it—and it stopped his heart. Except, a moment later it was gone, fleeting and temporary, and in its place was relaxation. In its place was Shiloh's tired voice, assuring Jamie he'd done nothing wrong.
It was okay and it made Jamie feel so much better. It was okay.
"Okay..." he whispered in return, his hand following suit and relaxing against his arm. It fell back into the same old rhythm, playing ever-softly against Shiloh's skin and against his arm, still covered by his sleeve. Eventually, carefully, he stopped at his wrist, slipping a thumb beneath the cover of fabric. He could feel the way Shiloh's skin rose and fell with years of pain and coping. At first glance it would be easy to label this a weakness, but Jamie considered it strength. He respected Shiloh for everything he'd had to confront.
Jamie was gentle, he tried to be comforting, and truth be told it was as much for himself as it was for Shiloh. Everything would be okay.
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Posted: Sun Sep 18, 2016 12:24 pm
Shiloh sighed.
Sometimes Oliver touched his arms; he was the only other one, really, and it wasn't usually for this sort of comfort. It was because they needed attention and Shiloh hadn't gotten around to patching up his suffering. Maybe that was a little melodramatic. Maybe Shiloh didn't care. Jamie hadn't stopped touching him and honest to god nothing else mattered. It was a relief actually, knowing Jamie wasn't afraid of him or his secrets or the emotional turmoil he had written all over his body.
"It," his voice spoke without his consent, and he took a long while to parse through the words jumbling in his head. Somehow, in this state of near-sleep, speaking was so much easier. "I don't... really do it anymore." he was trying to reassure Jamie the same way he would reassure his brother. "Not since tenth grade..."
Ninth. Ninth grade was the absolute worse. Tenth was a great deal of healing and soul searching. He slowly started to stop caring once he hit Eleventh, and Twelfth?
Well, they all saw how senior year was turning out.
"There's not a lot to say." his voice was a little wistful, but it wasn't dismissive either. There simply wasn't much to voice on the matter; he had confided into Jamie about his pain and his coping and his reasoning, and this was just another reminder of what he had to go through. With Jamie's fingers pressed against the pulse of his wrist, he felt vulnerable. He felt accepted.
And he sighed again softly in exhale.
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Posted: Sun Sep 18, 2016 12:52 pm
"I'm so glad..." And he was truly grateful to hear that Shiloh had fought so hard against his demons and reached a point where he could largely stop. It wasn't the end of the road, but Jamie was so proud of him. That wouldn't change, even in the unfortunate case of a relapse.
"That's okay, Shiloh," he assured, his own voice soft with understanding. What needed to be said had been said and now they could relax, now they could finally rest and know that they were secure with each other. Murmuring, he urged, "Get some sleep..."
Because, quite honestly, he was headed that way now. The exhaustion was heavy against him and his hand finally stopped moving, stilled against Shiloh's wrist. The weight of the night's events was, by this point, outdone by the peace and comfort he found in his company. If Jamie dreamed, they'd probably be good ones.
"Goodnight, Shiloh..."
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Posted: Sun Sep 18, 2016 1:04 pm
Shiloh didn't mind where Jamie's hand settled. Instead, he yawned. "Don't 've to tell me twice..."
The momentary panic from before had started to settle, heavier then the blanket that covered them, coating his mind in a blissful blankness. He wiggled one of his arms—the one Jamie hadn't claimed—up under his pillow, shifting his cheek against the plush softness that constituted Jamie's cloud of a bed. After that, he stilled, calm and collected and pleasantly tired.
"Night Jame.." his voice drawled back, mind humming over with the pleasant darkness of sleep.
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