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 Posted: Mon Jun 09, 2014 9:42 pm
"Kindly wipe that smug smile off of your face, Mr. Belle," said Alistaire in exasperation, but there was a note of amusement in his voice as he gave Harland a piercing look, clearly suspicious of the pleased expression on his face that most likely had something to do with the lack of clothing comment. Still, he didn't look or even sound annoyed, Alistaire giving a little shake of his head instead.
He didn't want to think about how much progress he'd made because it meant he still had to get somewhere. His focus was lacking, Alistaire getting almost overwhelmingly distracted by Harland's mere presence and his stupid, intoxicating warmth that he could never seem to get enough of and at the same time couldn't get away from fast enough, terror running like ice through his veins.
He could almost understand his brother, and his constant craving for human contact.
Alistaire arched a brow, his fingers curling over the clothes. His eyes drifted down Harland's front, his shirt plastered to his chest, and then back up again, his expression faintly amused, a dull red flush creeping over his cheeks.
"I'll wear the shirt, you wear the pants," said Alistaire, pushing them at Harland. "That way we're both somewhat helped."
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Posted: Wed Jun 11, 2014 5:06 pm
He laughed. "My apologize, mo chroi; seems like my smile is not goin' t' oblige ye," he said, faking a puppydog look. The piercing look just made his smile bigger. Especially because it didn't seem like Alistaire meant his chastisement. Harland was truly happy, in that moment, despite being a little damp and a little cold.
Harland could trace the logical progression of Alistaire's training, by this point; who wouldn't be able to? Alistaire himself of all people must know best what steps were left. Harland hoped, of course, it would be with him... but he acknowledged the possibility that it might not be. At the same time, Harland was a terribly patient individual, and being in love helped.
"Well that doesn't make much sense," Harland said, shaking his head, running a hand through his hair, "I'll just get the shirt wet," he added, smiling. "I don' mind, an all, but if ye'd prefer, take the whole outfit for now. Can stop by my room to change if I need to," he added. "Unless ye want me walkin' around in my boxer-briefs an' a shirt," he said, laughing again.
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Posted: Wed Jun 11, 2014 9:55 pm
He was still smiling in that smug sort of way, which was simultaneously annoying and endearing all at once. Sometimes Alistaire wasn't certain of Harland's confidence; there were moments when he seemed to be capable and calm about his decisions, but then there were moments like earlier, when he was hesitant, his touches gentle and light.
Alistaire wasn't certain if it was a lack of confidence or just a terribly strong desire to go slowly with...whatever this was...that was holding Harland back. A part of him, the part still trapped inside of himself, was grateful for that caution; but the more reckless side of him, the side that craved that warmth, wished he would stop being so damn innocent all the time.
It was an internal war waged within himself that he hated himself for.
Alistaire's head tilted to the side as he scrutinized Harland. "No," he said finally, flatly. "No, I don't wish for you to do that."
His hand reached out, curled in the front of Harland's soaked shirt. Alistaire twisted it a little, his knuckles pressing into Harland's chest, and he lifted his gaze to meet Harland's, his wet hair swept back away from his forehead and face, slicked back against his neck.
"Nobody gets to see you that way but me," he said flatly, and let go, turning around.
"Now let me get dressed and we will return to your room for you to change into something that isn't soaked through."
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Posted: Fri Jun 13, 2014 5:43 am
Harland himself would have likely been hard-pressed to tell you whether or not he was a confident guy or one riddled with doubt. However, it was not self-doubt, so perhaps that didn’t count; for the most part, his sense of doubt came from wanting to do the right thing all the time and not really knowing what that was all the time. He could become a little mired in thought, choosing from his options. Weighing decisions.
So as much as Alistaire had his own internal war, Harland knew the feeling. His was, perhaps, a little more benevolent than Alistaire’s war, but the consequences were still the same. To the world around him, Harland did not appear cohesive.
How he felt about Alistaire only made it harder. He was still learning, absorbing information, he didn’t want to do the wrong thing and risk losing Alistaire. The optimist in him always won out, of course, but sometimes he flickered between I’ll win! and How could I?
Harland looked down at Alistaire’s hand, the smile still on his own face, but now mingled with surprise as he watched it unfold. Harland met Alistaire’s gaze and felt for a moment like he could see right through him to the heart he was hiding so desperately and ineffectively.
"Deal," Harland said, quietly, but he didn’t leave just yet. He took a step forward in an attempt to bridge the gap, let his hands slip around Alistaire’s waist to press against the bare skin, pushed his body lightly against Alistaire’s as he leaned in to kiss the back of his neck, and again just below the ear. He whispered: "Just say the word."
Harland took a step away and began to leave the room.
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Posted: Fri Jun 13, 2014 8:30 am
He needed to think things through more, that was his problem. That, and the idea that he could still leave Harland once their "lessons" were complete were his two biggest things to work on at present, because not only was Alistaire becoming rapidly more involved with him, he wasn't sure he wanted to deal with things without him anymore. The terrible need for Harland around had becoming an issue; one that scared him, made the anxiety rise in his throat until it was almost two thick to swallow.
Or maybe Harland would get tired of these lessons and let him go.
Lost in thought, he didn't hear the footsteps until he felt the arms slide around his waist, Alistaire's breath catching in his throat, his body tensing almost immediately. Tingles shivered up and down his spine as warm lips pressed against the back of his neck, another kiss pressed below his ear, a flush creeping its way across Alistaire's cheeks. It was the first time that Harland had done something other than just pecks on the forehead or on his cheek, and the difference in temperature made the heat rise in his face.
His hand grabbed Harland's before he could move away, before he could leave. Alistaire pulled his arms back around him and leaned his back against Harland's broad chest, his heart beating erratically, his mind warring between panic and nausea and pleasure. The heat at his back was intoxicating, and he could feel it the entire length of his body, Harland pressed so close that he could feel every inch of him.
"You are mine," said Alistaire, and it was not the imperious possession he had used before, but a quiet need instead, his fingers trembling.
I can't do this without you and that scares me.
Alistaire finally let go, though it was with reluctance; he stepped forward, far enough away from Harland to get dressed, pulling the spare shirt over his head and letting it fall down over his torso. It was Harland's, of course, which meant it was a little too big for him; the sleeves went down almost to his fingertips. He hesitated a moment when it came to his slacks, however; but Harland was a gentleman above all else.
He decided it was best to step into one of the nearby stalls and change, appearing a moment later and looking absurdly un-Alistaire like, the sweatpants and long-sleeved teeshirt making him appear less like his usual pristinely put together self and more youthful, more like his actual age.
The pants he'd been wearing had been discarded into the nearest trash bin; he wouldn't wear them again. Silently Alistaire stepped back towards Harland and looked up at him, his cheeks still flushed, wet hair still slicked back over his head.
"Let's go back,' he said. "You need to get into dry clothes."
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Posted: Fri Jun 13, 2014 9:53 pm
Somehow, Harland had begun to let himself believe that the lessons were not a thing any more. He had let himself believe that Alistaire would not leave, despite understanding that he had no real way or desire to make him stay. He was just hoping that Alistaire, at the end, would want to. He didn't want it to be a business transaction that could simply be concluded at the end with a handshake, one that let Alistaire walk away forever.
Harland didn't want to think about that, so he didn't.
☆≼Not in your best interests to pretend that it isn't a possibility, Cowboy,≽ Coyote reminded him, gently.
Is it so reprehensible I want to be happy just a little longer? Harland asked, mentally, in return.
☆≼You're not that kind of guy, Cowboy. You'll do what's right, I know.≽ Coyote stood firm.
Harland smiled anyway, as Alistaire grabbed hold of his hands so he couldn't leave, leaning back against his chest. Harland heard what Alistaire said, and suddenly felt like he was justified in arguing with Coyote, but unjustified in being so afraid in the first place. "I'll be yours as long as ye want me, or till my last breath-- whichever comes first," he half-joked, at the end, though the first offer was wholly serious as evidenced by the frequency with which he asserted it.
And still, the tone in Alistaire's voice, it wasn't the kind of possessiveness that had scared him so badly the other night. It was something softer. Something that Harland could understand. As Alistaire let go and stepped forward, Harland felt the loss like a knife, and tried to hide how much he wanted to continue to stand there, holding him. As if that could keep the wearing of time at bay.
As if that could preserve the one he loved, the way he loved him, forever.
Harland had, in fact, turned away even though Alistaire was in a stall changing, and moved towards the door. He didn't want to be creepy. He was a little uncomfortable with the knowledge he was still in the same room, without having been invited. But he knew Alistaire would have been totally fine telling him to leave if it was necessary.
When he heard Alistaire toss his pants into the nearest trash bin, Harland turned and looked at him. The smile on his face turned into a pleased glow, radiant again. Alistaire looked... almost like someone who could relax. He was handsome, but he was... endearing. Harland took an image of this sight and locked it into his heart for all time, preserving the memory exactly as it was.
It took him, visibly, a moment to speak. To find his words. He ran a hand through his wet hair. "Your wish is my command," he joked, with a sweeping bow, hand towards his chest. He winked at Alistaire, tilting his face up.
Laughing, he pushed the door open and held it, waiting for Alistaire to follow. "One of the reasons I suspect this pool is a little of a secret... this door seems t' have a toll," he said, with a wicked, lopsided smile.
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Posted: Fri Jun 13, 2014 10:27 pm
The amount of need that he felt towards Harland was almost shameful; one should not have been this dependent on another human being, let alone one that he had no connections with other than this strange, mutually beneficial relationship. It was not as though Harland was a childhood friend, or if he was someone from Alistaire's past; and yet the depth in which Alistaire needed him was staggering, terrifying.
"I'll be yours as long as ye want me, or till my last breath-- whichever comes first."
No, Alistaire thought. No.
The clothes were Harland's, and they smelled like detergent and clean soap and Harland himself. Alistaire felt somewhat dwarfed in them - not that Harland was a great deal taller, but he was more filled out, more muscular and lean, whereas Alistaire was of a smaller build, more limber than strong.
They were comfortable, however, and surprisingly he did not seem annoyed, but rather faintly amused. He let Harland bow and then step away, tilting his head as a somewhat exasperated expression flitted across his face; but it was only when Harland was at the door with that terrible smirk of his that Alistaire said anything at all, arching a brow.
"A toll?" he repeated dryly. "How...shocking."
Still, he thought he might understand the insinuation that Harland was making. Alistaire's face flushed a little, and he reached up, pulling Harland out away from the door so that they were tucked beside it instead, out of view of anyone walking by. He stood up on his toes and pressed a light kiss to Harland's lips, exhaling a breath against them before he moved away, a smirk tugging at his mouth.
"There. You have your toll, Mr. Belle, now let us return."
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Posted: Fri Jun 13, 2014 10:59 pm
Harland was entirely surprised when Alistaire obliged him; he had made the insinuation expecting it to be rejected, possibly with one of those funny expressions that looked like Alistaire disapproved entirely.
He was led quite happily, tucked beside the door, and happily kissed Alistaire back as best he could despite its fleeting nature. The smile was so wide he thought his face might split, and then it relaxed, and it was just a gentle, calm joy. "When I'm with ye... I'm happier 'n I thought possible," he said, as he looked out down the hall.
"Because it's you," he said. He undid the buttons on the wet shirt he was wearing as they walked, to fold it over one arm.
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Posted: Sat Jun 14, 2014 7:29 am
He could not figure out what on earth had possessed him to cater to Harland's silly little whim.
Alistaire's face was a delicate shade of red as they walked back to Harland's room, his heartbeat quickening, his bare feet feeling strange on the carpet of the hallway; he tried very hard not to think about any of the dirt that probably lined the place, instead keeping focused on Harland Harland Harland -
His eyes widened slightly; Harland had taken off his drenched shirt and it was now folded over one arm, leaving his chest bare, and this, combined with the words he was saying, made it very difficult to breathe properly, Alistaire lifting a hand and pressing it silently to his throat.
His fingers were bare. He didn't have his gloves, and they were trembling.
When they reached Harland's room, Alistaire had never been so grateful before. He stood behind him, somewhat impatiently waiting for him to unlock the door and get the both of them inside, out of public view, safely away where it was just the two of them.
Just the two of them. Was that silly kind of thought really how he had started thinking now?
Alistaire felt terribly ill at ease.
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Posted: Sat Jun 14, 2014 10:43 am
Harland was still in his damp socks, for some reason; he’d thought to take the shirt off, but not the socks. He left a trail of squishy footprints as he walked down it. He was starting to shiver, from the cool air against his damp skin. He was glad, however, that Alistaire would be some form of dry and warm even if he was not.
He didn’t look back or over as he walked, knowing Alistaire was there with him regardless, and somehow as if he was Orpheus on a quest to recover his beloved Harland felt like it would be bad luck to look back or to stop. Finally, as he reached the door and opened it, he happily draped his wet shirt on the edge of his laundry basket, peeling off his damp socks. He grabbed a fluffy towel from where it was folded in his closet, towel-drying his hair and offering it to Alistaire. His hair was a mess of rust-gold, still wet. He smiled at Alistaire. His room was a lot warmer.
"Welcome home?" he joked, beaming still. He slid rack after rack across in his closet, looking for something he felt like wearing, and eventually settled on a folded white undershirt, which he immediately pulled on, and followed that up with a red, brown and blue-accented plaid shirt, though he did not button it up. He held a pair of brown slacks in one hand, a folded up pair of boxer-briefs hidden under them.
"This is the awkward moment," he said, shaking his head, smiling. "Ye can wait here a moment, an’ I’ll go change out in a washroom," he suggested.
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Posted: Sat Jun 14, 2014 11:19 pm
Once they were inside the safe confines of Harland's room, it felt like a weight had been lifted off of his shoulders; Alistaire let out his breath in a long hiss, raking a hand through his damp hair. He rubbed his reddened face tiredly and tried not to think about everything that had happened in the pool area; the feel of Harland's chest against his back, the touch of his lips on his neck; he felt the flush deepen, and Alistaire turned back around, taking the offered towel.
"There's no such thing as a home," he said vaguely, rubbing at his hair. "A place of residence, perhaps, but Deus is a strange place."
Harland was still not wearing a shirt. It was distracting, and he was both grateful and disappointed when he pulled on a shirt; though it wasn't like it did much good, seeing as how the undershirt left little to the imagination. Alistaire lowered the towel until it was around his neck and stepped towards Harland, almost magnetized by a desire to be closer and a pull to move farther away.
He stopped just short of him, wavering, his thoughts a mess.
"Go change, then," Alistaire choked out, taking a step backwards and trying to sort through the chaos in his mind. "I'll stay here."
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Posted: Wed Jun 18, 2014 11:35 pm
Harland could not help but think about everything. The way he'd acted, what he'd done, how good just that little gesture had felt. It was difficult not to shut his eyes and picture it again, the way Alistaire's skin looked glistening from the water--
Harland ran a hand through his hair, swallowing hard, trying not to make eye contact for a moment as he burned bright red. "I'll build a home wherever my roots'll stick," he joked, with a wink.
Harland watched Alistaire approach him, his heart speeding up to unbearable rates, the desire to bridge the gap practically overwhelming him-- and then, Alistaire's voice was breaking the spell as he took a step back. Harland nodded, wordlessly. "I'll be sorry t' miss the sight of ye," Harland said, strangely, as he opened the door and stepped out into the hallway, the pair of brown slacks and his boxer briefs still slung over one arm. He returned minutes later, dressed, his hair still damp.
Smiling.
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Posted: Thu Jun 19, 2014 4:31 pm
What was wrong with him?
As soon as Harland was out the door, Alistaire sank down on the bed, his face in his hands, his entire body shaking from head to toe. It was one thing to allow Harland to do the things he did, but it was entirely another thing to indulge him on his silly little whims - to kiss him just because Harland had teased him to. He was the one who pulled the strings here. He was the one who was in control.
So why did it feel like it was Harland that had done something to him instead?
Alistaire pressed his face into the towel, and then stretched out his bare hand in front of him. The desire for his gloves nearly overwhelmed him, his fingers trembling violently, but he curled them into a fist and tried to steady himself, tried to breathe normally.
The door opened and Alistaire jumped back to his feet as Harland stepped back in, and his throat felt tighter than normal, his chest constricted. For a few seconds Alistaire didn't say anything at all, but then, as though his feet were moving without him, he crossed the room and slid his hands up to the sides of Harland's face, pulling him down to kiss him. A sigh escaped past his lips, slightly muffled, and then he pulled back slightly, just enough to look up at Harland's face, Alistaire's own cheeks flushed, his mind dizzy.
He couldn't think of a single word to say.
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Posted: Sat Jun 21, 2014 10:08 pm
It was hard for Harland not to want to kiss Alistaire again: the skin of his neck, join where his muscle stretched into shoulder, the dip of his neck meeting his jaw; Harland shut his eyes to keep the sweeping desire to kiss him out of his head just for a moment longer. Hopefully until he could stop the blood rushing to his head, and breathe again.
As Harland stepped into the room smiling, his eyes open again, he thought he was under control. He was not. Alistaire seemed to move quickly, as though he'd been caught doing something he shouldn't be. Harland's smile became puzzled.
He didn't have long to contemplate it, however, as Alistaire slid his hands onto Harland's face and he lost his ability to form pretty much any thoughts at all again. No thoughts other than I want you. And in that moment, Harland wished so badly he could find his voice, so that he could say to Alistaire: I need you.
Harland kissed Alistaire back, without any hesitation or reservation, his body leaning into Alistaire's, one of his hands slipping onto Alistaire's back and resting there lightly. As Alistaire pulled back a little to look up at him, Harland smiled gently, and rested his forehead against Alistaire's for a moment before pulling back again. He just smilled, unable to say anything either.
He didn't want to say anything. He just wanted to be there, so close to Alistaire. Silently, his face flushed, Harland's free hand slipped up and rested over Alistaire's heart to feel its beat. As if communicating to Alistaire what he was doing, Harland tapped one fingertip on Alistaire's chest to the rhythm of his heart.
Harland slipped his hand away from Alistaire's back, up to one of Alistaire's hands, and gently tried to guide that hand down over his own heart. What the message was, he wasn't sure. He just wanted Alistaire to know it, even if it was wordless.
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Posted: Sat Jun 21, 2014 11:38 pm
He wondered, not for the first time, what it was about Harland that made it so that Alistaire could not seem to stay away from him. It wasn't as though he'd planned this; in fact, when he'd first met him, it had been like everyone else. Harland's constant optimism, his endless cheer; it had all grated on Alistaire's nerves. They were polar opposites with hardly anything in common at all, and that was why Alistaire had gone to him in the first place - because out of everyone on the island that he had met so far, it was Harland who was the least judgmental, and the least likely to have scorned him for his "problem."
So why was it that, even though this was not a lesson, Alistaire seemed unable to pull himself away?
Why had he childishly demanded Harland kiss him that first time - and the second time, and the third, until he'd lost count of how many kisses they'd shared, kisses that had taken Alistaire's breath away, made him dizzy with his emotions? Why had he gone out in public with him, on a date that had ended with them pressed against the door of Alistaire's room, their arms around each other, both of them unwilling to let go of the other?
Why was he continuously involving himself with this man when all that was to be gained was...
...what, exactly? Alistaire did not have friends, he had acquaintances, he had people he associated himself with for no reason other than to get something out of it, so what exactly did he want from Harland Leander Belle?
A vague notion crossed into his mind, barely a formed thought, but even in its simplest form, it terrified him and made his head spin; so he pushed it aside, buried it deep within himself, because it could not and would not possibly be true. Instead of his usual over analytical self, he settled for the easiest route - simply ignoring that there was something off here, focusing instead on the heat of Harland's mouth against his, the feel of his hand against his back, the way he leaned against him, eager and willing to comply to Alistaire's selfish whims.
A warm, heavy hand slid over his chest, rested square in the center of it, and Alistaire's breath hitched in his throat. Red was painted across his cheeks, his lips parted, still unable to speak, and he was quite certain that Harland could feel the erratic beating of Alistaire's heart beneath his palm.
The warmth left his back, but he didn't have time to contemplate this, because it wrapped around his bare hand as Harland drew Alistaire's shaking fingers to his own chest - and this time it was Alistaire that could feel the rapid beating of Harland's heart, and a shiver went up and down his spine, panic and longing and fear and confusion all mixed up, tangled in Alistaire's mind.
He pulled his hand free, and then slowly, hesitantly, slid both of his arms around Harland's neck, drawing himself up so that his face was right in front of Harland's again, but he didn't kiss him, not yet, though their lips were barely an inch apart. Instead, Alistaire closed his eyes, and just breathed, his breath shaking, his body trembling from head to toe.
This warmth was intoxicating. And he didn't want to ever let it go and it terrified him.
Alistaire tilted his head, just enough to press his lips against Harland's, and it was nothing like the kisses they'd shared before. This was slow, gentle, soft; a frightened and hesitant desire to feel that warmth again, to stay with Harland for as long as he could before the panic won out.
He drew away after a moment, his eyes still closed, his breath shaking.
"I want to keep you close," Alistaire whispered. "Stay beside me tonight."
It was obvious he meant it in the sense he had before; when he'd fallen asleep with Harland beside him, layers of clothing and blankets and sheets keeping a safe distance between them that didn't do much to block out the warmth Harland constantly radiated. But in spite of the anxiety that wracked him, the desire to feel that sense of warmth, of protection, of safety again nearly overpowered it.
Alistaire's eyes remained closed as he buried his face in Harland's neck and shoulder, arms tightly around him.
"You are mine and mine alone," he said; a selfish, childish declaration, but it was true; Harland Leander Belle was his, and regardless of the reasoning behind it - whether it was for purely analytical reasons or for reasons yet to be uncovered - there was nothing now that would be able to make him say otherwise, no person that would take him away.
Not even his own brother.face your demons this came out much longer than I thought it would OTL
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