“You know as well as I do, that for every thought she spends on Linton she spends a thousand on me.” — Heathcliff Earnshaw.
—5 months later—
He dragged himself out of the pool after me, water dripping down his wet hair and torso. Stepping aside to go to my locker, I watched him shake the remnant water off his auburn hair, tousling them even more. Sticking his tongue out, he licked the water beads off his lips, tilting his head to the side, letting out a silent moan.
“What do you think you're doing?” I slammed my locker shut, clutching the white towel closely to my chest, glowering at him. “What? I'm just drying myself,” He mused, stepping closer to decrease the distance between us. My back hit the metal surface after being pushed against it, his face hovering over mine.
He boxed me in, hands raised above my head on either sides of the locker, denying me the freedom to move. My eyes flickered to his own, parting my mouth as a silent invitation. Taking this as a cue to go ahead, he moved his head forward, slamming his lips against mine. Snaking my hands around his waist, I pulled him closer to my own self, tongue flicking over his own, “Do you remember what day it is?”
He cocked his head to the side, as if lost in deep thought. Grey eyes searched for mine, pulling me in for another hungry kiss, “Oh yeah. It’s been five months since we officially started fucking, that is,” I frowned against his mouth, shoving him off me, “Fuck off, man.” I hissed through my gritted teeth, when he seized my wrist, forbidding me from leaving, “I was just fucking with you, Tobias. We started dating on this day five months back.”
“Whatever.” I replied, a razor sharp tone to my voice, tearing my gaze off him to look at the blue water of the pool, analyzing our entangled reflection on the unsteady surface of the water, “Hey.” He called out, grabbing hold of my chin to meet his concerned gaze, “I was just joking, Harris.” The genuine worry etched on his face caused my anger to ebb away, as I trailed my hand from his stomach, to the base of his neck, quietly sighing.
“I love you, Harris. You know that,” The vulnerability with which the words escaped his mouth, made my heart clench with the strong, turbulent feelings I had for him. The pit of my stomach relaxed at his words, taking pride in his discomfort to express himself, knowing full well that he had never said that to anyone but me, “I’ve fallen in love with you, Alex. But, I'm scared. There’s this…I don't know how to say it—nagging sense of doubt that you'd leave me someday without glancing back.”
He brought his hand to my mouth, the warm pad of his index finger brushing against my lip, holding my chin upwards to level it with his own, “I am your man, Toby. And you are mine. I'll never forget that. You're not getting rid of me, sweetheart,” He breathed, his tone filled with the rawest of emotions, when I perked up, pecking his lips with a chaste kiss, “You’re just mad I beat you at practice, darling,” He continued, his grey eyes shinning with a mischievous glimmer to them, “Don't worry,” He leaned in, brushing his lips against mine, causing desire rush up to my stomach, “I’ll go easy on you next time.”
I flipped him over, trying my best not to give in to the warm laughter that erupted from him, as he doubled over, his shoulders shrugging and carefree, “Fuck off, man.” I tried to sound as serious as possible, but his laughter was contagious, and soon I had to give in without my consent. My subconscious patted me on my back, knowing it was me who caused him to laugh like no one was watching. I do this all day. The last five months had passed through a lot of hardships, because neither he nor me were accustomed to dating, and we often found ourselves in verbal spats over the littlest things. The make up sex was always better than the previous one, the mere thought of which caused me to harden.
With a sudden move, I shoved him against the opposite locker, catching him off guard as he let out a huff of surprise. Placing a hand on his chest, I forbade him to cause any movement, after which I leaned in, darting my tongue out to seductively lick his lips. He caught hold of my face, intertwining his tongue with mine, slightly moaning at the contact. I tilted my head to the side, deepening the kiss, my hands running free over his chiseled torso, leg shifting between his, “Ah, fuck.” He breathed rashly, biting down my bottom lip with his teeth, drawing some blood.
The metallic taste of the liquid flowed down his throat after he licked it off, groaning at the erotica, as I felt his erection pressing against my thigh, “Adrian is throwing a party today,” He said, shoving his tongue in my mouth, exploring every bit of it, “Your point is?” I asked with panted breaths, my free hand descending to give his shaft a gentle squeeze against the boxers, “We know where to have anniversary sex.”
The End.