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 Posted: Thu Aug 06, 2015 11:41 am
He'd let out a soft gasp of breath against Hitch's lips at the contact, breath escaping him, because there was something not only incredibly addicting against kissing him, but also heartwarming. Hitch put everything into his kisses, and Tolliver felt it as though it was in his very bones.
The grin made his heart - and legs - wobble just a little, and Tolliver almost said screw it. Almost. But he needed the time away from Hitch to clear his head, needed a few moments of clarity even if all he wanted to do was fling himself at Hitch and let him do what he wanted.
His heart couldn't take much more of this. He wanted more, and it was dangerous and frightening, and he felt horribly off kilter, uncertain, his emotions entirely shaped by the man in front of him. Tolliver was drowning in Hitch, and he wasn't sure he wanted to rise to the surface again.
His blush deepened, if that was even possible, Tolliver feeling the heat in that gaze, in his voice. He sucked in a breath, tried to steady himself, and smiled a little.
"You're the cook," he said softly, eyes flickering towards the pasta. "I'm sure it'll taste just fine."
And then, because if he didn't move away soon, he'd never leave, Tolliver shifted away, wandering aimlessly to look around the place, wrapping the blanket a little more firmly around himself. In spite of the clutter and the mess, he found he liked it; Tolliver felt dangerously comfortable here, and he let his fingers drift absently across a counter.
"I can't believe we've been this close to each other all this time," he murmured, almost distractedly.
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Posted: Fri Aug 07, 2015 3:10 am
Hitch snorted, staring down into the dark, bubbling water as he shut off the heat and then snatched up his strainer. "I'm the cook, you say that like it's any ********' help, " he teased, easing the whole thing over the sink so he could go ahead and get rid of the water. It was hot, hot enough that beads of sweat were already beginning to gather along his brow, mingling with the traces of moisture from his shower.
He smiled into the steam, taking solace in Tolliver's words whether he should or not. "It's crazy, right? - just wish I could've found you sooner, " and it was an exceedingly candid thing to say, but why the ******** not. They'd been candid enough already. "Wonder how many times we just passed right by each other with no ******** idea, y'know?"
When Tolliver stepped away, even just for that moment, Hitch found himself watching him as he walked away - then had no choice but to refocus on the task at hand after he nearly scalded his ******** hand. "Son of a - " he hissed under his breath, aching for a cigarette for probably the first time in hours as he finally poured the pasta into a large bowl.
Tolliver wouldn't know it, but Hitch as a whole; cluttered and messy and all together packed in too tight, with bits and pieces of his varied interests and hobbies scattered throughout in no real meaningful way. And of course, plenty of photos of one woman in particular; some of them were both a boy that was clearly Hitch was when he was younger, grade school age maybe, his hair cropped shorter and without any traces of white.
Maybe one from when Hitch was older, his early teens maybe; in that one his hair was much longer, dyed green instead of red at the edges, dark roots poking in. The woman in the photo was making a face that was a little too reminiscent of the teasing looks Hitch gave as she held up a lock of his hair between her fingers, as if to say 'what the hell even is this?' Most of them were of the woman alone. All of them were framed, but more were propped on cheap bookcases than mounted on a wall.
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Posted: Fri Aug 07, 2015 3:30 pm
He did think Hitch cooking for him was a treat, and therefore it did help, but he left it at that. Tolliver tuned his head, glancing at Hitch over his shoulder with an expression that was a little bemused, brows drawing together. The candid nature of his remark burned bright on Tolliver's face, and yet -
"I like that I met you now," he said softly, readjusting the blanket. "I mean...I wish I could have known you earlier, because then I could feel the way I do sooner, but maybe if we had, it wouldn't be the same as it is now. Maybe..." His voice was a little unsteady, and Tolliver turned away again, fingers absently stroking down the side of a picture frame.
"Maybe you wouldn't have been as interested," he said quietly, so quiet that it was barely audible. His eyes were on the pictures, of a young Logan Hitchcock with dark hair, of a woman that looked remarkably like him but older, and there were many of those scattered here and there.
Tolliver felt a strange twisting sensation in his stomach. He traced a finger over young Hitch, his chest tightening.
"Why do you go by Hitch, and not Logan?" he asked, in place of everything he couldn't say.
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Posted: Fri Aug 07, 2015 9:56 pm
The way he said it made Hitch's stomach flip and churn in a way he hadn't been expecting, and he glanced back at him, running his tongue back and forth along the inside of his piercing as he weighed words and choices. "I always thought you were interestin', " he grunted, keeping his eyes on his work as he shifted the pasta in the strainer, getting out as much of the water as he could. "But... I'm glad I met you now too." Maybe it would've been different. Maybe they wouldn't have gotten a drink. Maybe -- it didn't even really matter now, did it?
"I mean, ********. Not every day someone wants to be my hero, " he teased, flashing him a playful grin before he turned back to the food. Not every day someone wanted to be his anything, really. If it'd been anyone else in that moment he would've been mortified and frustrated at the memory, but since it was Tolliver... maybe that's when the trouble had really started? He hadn't even realized it, but --
A flash of heat surged into his cheeks and he groaned loud and then laughed, and laughed hard, holding the strainer in his hands still as he turned to look Tolliver straight on. "If I tell you, you better ********' swear to me you won't laugh. Seriously. You better not laugh." He was still laughing as he said it, and he didn't really wait for a response before he pressed on. "My mom, right? - you better not ********' laugh - " One more warning that didn't seem like much of a warning at all. "She was a huge fan of X-Men, y'know, the comic book. Like, huge. She had so many ********' comics an' s**t it was kind of ridiculous."
His cheeks were blazing as he turned back to the counter, tugging the bowl for the pasta closer. "Anyway, Wolverine was her favorite - the dude with the claws in yellow spandex - an' his name was Logan, so when I came around, she was like 'hey I got a brilliant ********' idea, I wanna make my kid's life hell' - no, her name was pretty normal, so like, she wanted me to have some interestin' name, so then I got saddled with Logan."
He poured the pasta in, speaking without really thinking as he went on, "She called me her big tough hero, all that s**t when I was a kid. I was totally ********' into it until I hit what, like 13? Then with my band an' friends an' s**t, Hitch happened. ******** if I know how it started, but it stuck, an' then Logan just didn't really feel right anymore. I feel more like a Hitch than a Logan, if that makes any kind of ********' sense."
He paused, chuckling dryly as he added, "Mom still always called me Logan though."
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Posted: Fri Aug 07, 2015 10:42 pm
He tried not to let the I'm glad I met you get to him like it had before, but the words still shivered down Tolliver's spine like hot liquid, twisting into his stomach, expanding throughout his chest. He pressed a hand against his sternum to try and stop the flow of emotions, dragging in a soft breath that he hoped wasn't audible.
The teasing from Hitch made it slightly easier. Tolliver turned his head, looking at him from beneath his lashes, and he blushed furiously before mumbling quickly, "I'm not a hero. I just wanted to...talk to you." and hoping that Hitch couldn't hear the embarrassment in his voice.
He wasn't about to laugh at whatever the story was, though he found it reassuring that Hitch was laughing about whatever it was. Tolliver turned back around to look at him while he listened, eyes widening a little, because whatever he'd been expecting, it wasn't that. And, strangely enough, he didn't find the story funny, per say, more...charming, in a peculiar sense of the word.
"I like Logan," he said tentatively, Tolliver taking a step towards him, but not quite completing the distance as he watched him pour the pasta. "But...I mean, you seem like a Hitch to me."
Not that he had much seniority on that. Tolliver's face flushed a little further.
"I always thought Tolliver was pretentious," he said, fiddling with the ends of the blanket. "And Fritz's real name is Frederick, so we were Frederick and Tolliver. Two very unfortunate names for children who can't even pronounce them properly."
His gaze rose to Hitch once more, shy and uncertain.
"I...I like Tolli, though," he said softly. "It's...nicer, somehow."
He was definitely not going to mention how he only wanted Hitch to be the one to call him that.
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Posted: Fri Aug 07, 2015 11:36 pm
'I just wanted to talk to you.' Hitch felt a rush of warmth surge from his stomach to his throat and back again, and he licked his drying lips furiously. He cursed himself, thinking that something so minute really shouldn't get him so worked up. But it did, it had, and he was still reeling from it. "Yeah, well... lookin' back, it was pretty sexy, " and he flashed Tolliver a cocky grin, stealing a glance back to see his reaction first hand. So sue him, he couldn't ******** get enough of working him up.
Then, his smile was less self-assured and more - not quite shy, but bordering on it, his cheeks burning just slightly as he laughed again. "Right? - but y'know, " and the color didn't totally leave him as he threw some butter in with the pasta, mixing it up evenly throughout. "I kinda like how it sounds when you say it - so - maybe I won't kill you if you wanna use it sometimes."
Hitch arched a brow and eyed Tolliver skeptically. "Dude. Ouch. - Are you sure your parents loved you?" Then he cracked a lopsided grin and laughed, making it a point to reach out and squeeze Tolliver's shoulder. His hand lingered a second longer than it should have. "No, no, but seriously - Tolliver St. James - I really like that name. First of all, you could totally be a sexy a** spy, " he waved his hand up and down to gesture at all of Tolliver with a flourish, "An' I saw you in a tux first, so - just sayin'. I like sayin' it. Tolliver, " and he said it with a playful little purr that time.
Did he want to? - yes, yes he did. Hitch's gaze grew fiendish again as he abandoned the counter, cupping Tolliver's cheeks warmly in his hands (because he just couldn't stop ******** touching him, apparently). "Gotta say though - " He licked his lips. "Tolli is a lot easier to moan, babe."
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Posted: Sat Aug 08, 2015 6:25 am
It was quite possible that Tolliver was never going to not be flustered every time Hitch said something like that. He was not used to the compliments, the admiration, the teasing looks - and he was definitely not used to anyone calling him sexy. He pressed his lips together to stop himself from saying something stupid, cheeks inflamed, looking quite flustered.
Hitch was still making the food. Tolliver attempted to focus determinedly on that instead, but once again, his attention was diverted. His eyes flickered towards the other, surprise registering as he said tentatively, "I...well it would be nice if...if I had something to call you..."
Something that's just mine, he thought, startling even himself with the selfish mindset, but Hitch was calling him things like Tolli and babe and he, Tolliver, couldn't return the favor, couldn't explain how absolutely wonderful it was to be called something other than his full name. It made him feel special in a way. Warm. Wanted.
Hitch's hand on his shoulder jolted him from his inner thoughts, but not out of the warmth that was rapidly growing on his face. A heat that only grew substantially with what he was saying, with what he was doing to Tolliver, fingers against his face, that low voice, the lips that were too close and damn it he'd been trying to be good about this whole thing, he'd been trying to act like he wasn't horribly, embarrassingly insatiable when it came to Logan Hitchcock.
His stomach was in knots. This was ridiculous. Tolliver was ridiculous, and yet he couldn't stop himself from swaying closer at Hitch's words, couldn't stop himself from curling his fingers against his chest, looking up at him, biting his lip again hard enough to hurt.
"We should...eat..." he said faintly, but he couldn't drag his eyes away from Hitch's.
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Posted: Sat Aug 08, 2015 5:35 pm
Hitch's grin, if anything, just broadened when Tolliver made his little admission. "You can call me whatever you want babe, " he said, and only he'd manage to make it sound so simultaneously reassuring and suggestive, shooting him a playful wink to go with it. "... well, I mean, unless you wanna call me like b***h or Twitch or somethin' like that." Amazing how creative high school kids could get with rhyming when it wasn't for an English class, really.
Seriously though - he got where Tolliver was coming from, and maybe a little more touched by it than he let on in any words.
The amount of influence he could have over Tolliver was staggering - not that he wanted to take advantage of it or anything, but - did he know how it felt to say something like that and have the object of his affections (he could safely call Tolliver that much, right?) sway and look at him in just such a way. - was it really influence though when it got to Hitch just as bad?
He swallowed hard, but his smirk didn't waver - because all of this was still too new, and in spite of the wrongness, it was too addictive, too fun, too everything. There were too many things that Tolliver already was and already gave him.
"Yeah..." One last thing. (He'd said that about so many things today though, hadn't he?) One hand fell from Tolliver's cheek to take one of his hands into his own, and he brought one of Tolliver's fingers to his lips, playfully nipping the tip and then flicking the tip of his tongue over it before he dropped it and eased away, annoyed by the sudden surge of coolness between them, but - "We should, " it would so be worth it to see Tolliver's reaction.
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Posted: Sat Aug 08, 2015 5:52 pm
He couldn't call Hitch anything like what Hitch was calling him, because it was too embarrassing - even though he thought very much that Hitch was both sexy and attractive and wonderful, the words just simply wouldn't come, as much as he wanted them to. And it didn't quite feel the same coming from him as it did from Hitch.
Tolliver's mouth opened a little in surprise. "I wouldn't call you that," he said, not taking offense but sounding distraught that someone would even consider making fun of him. "That's horrible, why would anyone call you that?"
He was being lead along by Hitch, and he knew it; Hitch could have asked him anything, and Tolliver would have probably done it, within reason, because the way that Hitch looked at him, touched him, spoke to him, all of it was so incredibly meaningful and wonderful in a way that Tolliver didn't want to let go.
He liked Hitch. He liked him way more than he should, liked the way that he felt when he was with him, liked the way that Hitch treated him like he was worth something.
A soft whimper of surprise escaped him at the n** to his finger, heat flooding through him, and Tolliver almost melted on the spot - and then, to his utter surprise, Hitch pulled away, and Tolliver was left standing there, swaying and warm and blushing, and he couldn't stop his heart from slamming in his chest.
It was too much. He was pathetic. They'd spent literally hours wrapped in each other's arms doing nothing but exactly what Tolliver wanted to do, and now all he wanted was to be wrapped in those arms yet again.
He should be strong. He shouldn't be an idiot about this. He needed to focus, needed to actually talk instead of just being physical, he needed to do something other than stand there completely wanting the man in front of him, he needed -
- the blanket fell away, Tolliver rushed forward and then he'd flung his arms around Hitch's neck, lips desperately trying to find his and probably missing in the process as he pressed himself against him.
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Posted: Sat Aug 08, 2015 7:45 pm
Hitch couldn't help it; he burst out laughing at Tolliver's borderline horrified reaction, his dark eyes burning with amusement. "I don't know what high school you went to, " he finally collected himself enough to say, flicking his tongue out over his piercing and then flashing him a toothy grin. "But yeah, high school kids, they do that. It's okay, though - I just hit 'em, " and he slapped his knuckles against the palm of his other hand. "Cause, y'know. Education." Even when he'd actually been going to school, he hadn't really ever been much good at it.
The way Tolliver swayed and blushed in the corner of his vision sent a surge of hot satisfaction lacing up through Hitch's belly. He hadn't expected more than that. So when the blanket fell with a rustle, Hitch turned to face him in just enough time to find hot lips at the corner of his mouth, arms wrapped around him, and the entire length of their bodies pressed together in a way that made him feel like he'd been bathed in fire.
"Tolli - " A name uttered in surprise that escaped in a low moan, and he unconsciously rolled his hips against Tolliver's, his breath already shaky as his hands fell to the smaller man's hips. He hissed softly as he tilted his head, catching Tolliver's lips with his own and all started to nudge him, coaxing him back against the edge of the counter.
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Posted: Sat Aug 08, 2015 9:56 pm
Tolliver had gone to school in a very nice boarding school with Fritz, where the uniforms were crisp and clean and professionalism, tolerance, and intelligence were highly prized among its students. And for a boarding school, it had been rather nice, even if he hadn't had really many friends at all.
But Tolliver wasn't thinking about that. He wasn't thinking about his brother, or about the bunk beds they'd shared while in their dormitory, or about the math teacher who'd thought there was something wrong with him because he wouldn't speak in class. He wasn't thinking about all of the ramifications of what he was doing, all the reasons why this was a Bad Idea, all the uncertainties and the confusion and the mess inside of his head.
All he was thinking about was how so terribly, wonderfully, frighteningly right it felt to be in Logan Hitchcock's arms.
He heard his name, dimly, as though from a great distance, because he was focused on the feel of Hitch's lips on his, the body pressed close that made him let out a soft whimper, the hands that were warm and work-roughened on his hips. Tolliver let himself be pushed back, hitting the counter in the process, but he didn't care, because his arms were around Hitch's neck, and he was clinging onto him for dear life, fingers in his hair.
His leg had started to throb after standing so long already, Tolliver utterly occupied with pressing kiss after kiss to Hitch's lips. Sometimes soft, sometimes desperate, sometimes a mix of the two, breathy, always needy in some way. He shifted a little to take the weight off of his bad leg, lifting it slightly and pressing it instead against Hitch's side, and Tolliver couldn't think straight, couldn't even breathe.
This was a bad idea.
This was a good idea.
This was dangerous.
But Hitch made him feel so incredibly safe. Hitch made him feel wanted, needed, desired, adored in a way that he had never before experienced. And it wasn't even just about the physical attraction to one another, which seemed to burn hot and bright at the simplest touch, a blazing fire in their veins to scorch them. The attraction had not lain in sex; the interest had started before that - and if Tolliver was being honest with himself, it had started back then, at the New Year's ball. A curiosity that had grown into an attraction he'd tried to hide that had exploded into a dizzying need to know more and more about Hitch.
He didn't want to be alone anymore.
Tolliver was nuzzling Hitch's face, his own bright red, and he couldn't seem to catch his breath properly; it was coming out in soft, hiccuping pants that made it almost seem like he was crying, except he wasn't, emotions twisting and coiling in the pit of his stomach. His shaking fingers traced the lines of Hitch's face and then delved back into his hair as Tolliver wound his arms back around him, burying his face into Hitch's neck.
"Hitch," he mumbled dizzily. "Hitch."
He closed his eyes.
"Logan."frayedflower this is a novel I'm so sorry
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Posted: Sun Aug 09, 2015 1:21 am
They'd come from completely different backgrounds, really. Hitch's mother had struggled to raise him alone, and she had done the best she could for him - it took a lot of work to get the education she needed to work in the hospital while still being a full time mom, and a lot of money she hadn't had. So there had been sacrifices. Their neighborhood wasn't the best. The school had been rough, and most of the teachers couldn't have given less of a ******** about the kids trapped within their hallowed walls. The most expensive gift Hitch had ever gotten was the drum set sitting mere feet away.
But they were still so alike - especially in their desperate desire for closeness, so intense yet untapped until now. Or at least that was the case for Hitch. He hadn't known how badly he'd needed a Tolliver until he was here. He hadn't realized how badly he'd wanted to see him again after the New Year's incident until he'd seen his face that day in the store, and hadn't comprehended how achingly miserable and alone he'd been until he wasn't anymore.
He groaned as that leg slid against his side, and without really looking, an arm swept out and knocked the pot and utensils and the salt shaker and really everything but the ******** pasta itself clean off the counter - mostly into the sink, but some things clattered noisily to the floor - and without needing to break the kiss and see, he lifted Tolliver smoothly up onto the countertop on the now clear space.
He loved the way Tolliver kissed, the way he did everything, really - like Tolliver, although he didn't know it, every little gesture, look, touch, kiss, caress, it made him feel like he mattered again to someone. Like if he wasn't here tomorrow, that someone would be sad, someone would miss him, someone might even cry for him. Before now, there'd been no one like in his life. Some of his coworkers might click their tongues and shake their heads and mumble about how sad it was, but no one would really give a damn.
The fact that Tolliver allowed him to know him, that he even wanted to know Hitch a little in return, it all meant more than he'd ever tell him.
His hands swept back and forth along the smooth plane of Tolliver's back as he listened to his - he was a lover by now, surely - gasp for air, and his hands swept up once to run through his hair before returning to his back again. Don't stop touching me, he thought as he kissed his forehead, savored the sensation of Tolliver nuzzling and exploring him afresh. Sighing as Tolliver's warm face burrowed against his neck, he shuddered at the way he said his name.
And then his name.
He hummed, a deep, resounding sound that had an edge of desperation to it as he pressed closer still to Tolliver, pushing up his shirt to glide his fingers along his lover's bare skin - back, sides, stomach, anywhere he could reach.
Yeah - it turned out - he ******** loved the way it sounded on Tolliver's lips. "Say it again, " and Hitch managed to make it both a plea and a demand, "Say my name again baby, please..."
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Posted: Sun Aug 09, 2015 7:17 am
He loved the way Hitch handled him; like he was something precious and worthwhile to be cared for. It wasn't pity, the consideration for his leg or even just himself, it was a simple desire to be closer, an awareness of what Tolliver was anxious about, and a lot more that he wasn't quite sure he understood yet.
The clatter of the pot and the utensils into the sink - and onto the floor - was only dimly noted, because Tolliver was making soft, needy sounds against Hitch's lips and then he was lifted up onto the counter, and now it was easier to cling to him, to hold him, to kiss him as much as he wanted. One bare leg - his good one - immediately lifted and wrapped around Hitch's waist to hold him closer, heel against the small of his back, while his other just stayed still against his side and appreciated the lack of weight on it.
He hadn't wanted to be desperate. He hadn't wanted to be pathetically reduced to the state he was currently, kissing Hitch like he wanted to breathe him in and shivering with longing at every touch of his hands, every heated look that Hitch gave him. But the ache of loneliness had long been ingrained in Tolliver, an ache that he couldn't even remember when it had started, growing and festering until it had become the norm. He'd simply existed before Hitch, had simply been in life without really being a part of it, and he'd watched everyone else around him with envy in his eyes as they basked in the happiness of someone else, romantic or otherwise.
Hitch filled the gaps, had poured himself into the cracks in Tolliver's life and settled deep; had made him feel like someone other than Fritz would miss him if he was gone, that he was someone worth remembering. And perhaps his loneliness was giving way to desperation, but it wasn't the kind of desperation where he flung himself at any person who came by, because it mattered to Tolliver. He'd been quiet, reserved, watching and waiting and had all but given up hope of someone ever caring enough to think he was worth anything at all.
But Hitch was here. Hitch was here, and he was warm and responsive, hands trailing heat at every touch as they smoothed down his back, his stomach, everywhere. Hitch was here, and his lips were soft against his forehead, his breath gentle on his face, voice low and rough and wanting in his ear. Hitch was here, and he wanted Tolliver, and Tolliver wanted Logan Hitchcock more than he had ever wanted anything or anyone in his life. The thought terrified him, because he was afraid of it hurting when inevitably Hitch decided to leave, but he couldn't deny it anymore.
Tolliver let out a soft, stuttering whine against Hitch's neck, and he nuzzled himself closer, pressed little kisses along his collarbone, his shoulder, anywhere that he could reach.
"Logan," he breathed out tentatively, and then, a little stronger, as his fingers delved into Hitch's hair and he drew his head back enough to look at Hitch, his tone sliding into one of pleading now (though what he was pleading for, he didn't know anymore). The heel of his foot dug into Hitch's lower back. "Logan,"
His hands found the sides of Hitch's face, and he smoothed his thumbs over his cheeks, biting his lip, face flushed, breath still hiccuping in his throat. Tolliver just looked at him, looked at this man in front of him, all the lines of his face, the sweep of his brow, the planes of his jaw, the dark eyes that drew him in, the warm lips that he loved to feel pressed against his own.
They'd avoided talking about it for now, had casually sidestepped everything in favor of letting the explosive heat between them speak for itself, but -
"Please," Tolliver whispered, and he closed his eyes again, fingers rising to dig into Hitch's hair, pressing his forehead against Hitch's, one arm wrapping around Hitch's neck to pull him closer - if that was even possible, his leg tightening around him. His breathing couldn't seem to level out, and the words rushed out of him, soft, needy whimpers that should have galled him, should have embarrassed him, but he was far past that point now.
"I want to be yours. I want you to want me, Logan, please - "frayedflower ANOTHER NOVEL by yours truly
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Posted: Sun Aug 09, 2015 2:42 pm
Hitch gasped when that leg was looped around him, a harsh, breathy sound that left him quivering. Such a tiny, but vital thing just spurred Hitch on, giving him more of the contact and friction he was so hopelessly addicted to. The soft whine against his neck just fanned the flames and made it all so much worse (and by worse he meant better) and again, the accusatory glare that lurked beneath the smile of his mother's photos was completely lost to him.
Tolliver, for him, was a series of contradictions that somehow made perfect sense - wrong and right, with him the world was wider and smaller, he felt exposed and predatory, comforting and terrifying - but more than anything, Tolliver was acceptance, and Tolliver was need, and Tolliver was so many things he didn't have words for yet, and that was perhaps the most thrillingly horrifyingly glorious thing about it.
Goosebumps, again he had goosebumps in the middle of summer when he heard his given name uttered from Tolliver's lips, peppered with the accent he'd adored from the moment he met him. Then he drew back enough to look at Hitch, and Hitch had no choice but to look back at him as he said his name in just such a way, a low grunt escaping him as that heel pressed against the small of his back more insistently.
Then, Tolliver was studying him again, the way he seemed to love doing. Hitch's cheeks burned red and not for the first time, he felt exposed and more than a little self-conscious - but he also loved it, because he loved the way Tolliver looked at him. There'd never been anything better than the way Tolliver stared at him, blushing and biting his lip and even if it wasn't for those, just the look in his eyes was --
Then, he was closer still. It still wasn't enough, some insistent voice in the back of Hitch's head rationed, but it was better, and his heart pounded with the thrill of his lover's warm and closeness and just, <********>. He'd literally never felt so utterly wanted in all his ******** life, had he? The realization made him choke, quietly, although Tolliver was close enough that he could probably feel the hitch in his throat.
"You've ********' been mine, " he hissed out in a rough, hoarse puff of air, keeping his eyes open to stare intently back at him, "since before you walked in that ********' door, Tolli." His breath shook as he corrected him, "Not want, need," sliding a rough hand along the length of Tolliver's leg all the way to his hip. Because want was wanting a cigarette. Or some chocolate. Need was something he didn't think he could live without, and as ******** pathetic as he was - this addiction was like ******** air in his lungs.
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Posted: Sun Aug 09, 2015 3:03 pm
Tolliver St. James did not believe in love at first sight.
He was a sucker for romantic comedies, watching them in secret late at night when he knew Fritz was asleep, when he knew no one else was around to laugh at him for watching what they deemed "girly s**t." He sat with his knees drawn up to his chest, arms wrapped around them, following the storyline of a girl meeting the love of her life and then living happily ever after (he was a sucker for those ones especially.) Often times there was some mishap in the middle where they would hit a snag, but by the end everything worked out.
Life was not like those movies he privately adored. He was not a girl, could not even pretend to be one in this case. He wasn't cute, he wasn't feminine, he wasn't anything except an awkward twentysomething from the UK who walked with a ******** cane and a limp like an eighty year old man. He wasn't normal wanting Hitch - wanting another man - as much as he did, but Tolliver was so dizzy with the heady feeling of Hitch so near him that he almost felt as though he was drowning.
He still didn't believe in love at first sight, but he believed in something and that something was Logan Hitchcock.
The rough, almost possessive voice sent waves of something unnameable through Tolliver - you've ******** been mine - hot shivers rippling up and down his spine and for a few seconds he seemed paralyzed by the admission. Was he Hitch's? If he had doubted before, he didn't now, because the hand that dragged up his trembling leg was clear evidence enough of that, and Tolliver shuddered, a half choked sob escaping him, in spite of his resolve not to get more emotional than he already was. But happiness was slowly beginning to bloom in his stomach, warm and bursting outwards, seeping through his veins.
Not want, need.
Hitch's eyes were burning into him. Tolliver's arms slid back around his lover's - the word alone sent feelings of mingled giddiness and desire and fear through him - neck and he lifted his other leg this time so that it matched the other, both of his wrapped around Hitch's waist, and he still couldn't seem to get close enough.
"More," Tolliver murmured hoarsely, and he surged upwards to close the distance and kiss Hitch desperately. He managed to untangle one of his arms from around his neck and he reached for one of Hitch's hands, dragging it between them so that he could press Hitch's palm against his chest where Tolliver's heart beat beneath his ribs. Tolliver's own fingers curled around Hitch's to hold them steady and he guided Hitch's hand lower still, over his stomach.
The intent was obvious. He didn't want dinner anymore, he needed nothing else but Hitch.
"Logan," Tolliver breathed, and there were tears at the corners of his eyes, though he was trying to pretend they weren't there at all, leaning against this man that, for reasons he still couldn't comprehend, wanted him and needed him and looked at him the way he did. "My Logan, please."
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