Bruising

It isn’t that Josh thinks that Elijah’s a liar. The boy says things--things people want to hear him say, as if the worst thing Elijah could do is break someone’s heart. Josh knows the feeling, and he can’t blame Elijah for trying his best to soften blows.

No matter how many times Elijah’s smiled and said that they’d stay in touch, get together and fuck outside the world of ‘The Faculty’, Josh knows it won’t happen. It’s not that they’d not want to keep in contact, but when he watches Elijah gat about his business, he knows that there are big plans that’ll be put in place, and soon. Everything eventually gravitates Elijah’s way, from fellow actors to even the scenery. Elijah can’t be on set without it all forming around him, making it look different when he’s around. Josh doesn’t know if it’s the ocean of his eyes or the small frame of his body that seems like a puzzle piece--one that Josh has been looking for ages now.

It’s two days before everyone leaves, and it’s the last time they’re going to be alone together. Maybe there’ll be a few minutes that could be spent in the bathroom of a party place, a quick handjob and hair-pulls, but it’d be empty and cold. Josh wants another month, or even just a week--not this. Not a tension filled room where Elijah’s lying next to him on the bed, his hand traveling up and down Josh’s stomach along with soft, breathy sighs. Any minute now, the boy’s going to move up and start kissing, and Josh doesn’t want that. He doesn’t want a ‘last time’ where they do anything and everything, because it’ll be the last time for anything and everything. They have six hours to play with if they go to bed at a reasonable hour, and even thought Josh has stayed out all night before and can still function the next day, he doesn’t want that.

“It’s our last night here,” Elijah murmurs, his voice almost lost in the TV’s volume. Josh wants to turn it up.

“I know that,” is all Josh can reply with, and it’s said through gritted teeth.

As expected, the boy lifts up from his place on Josh’s chest and goes to kiss him. Josh turns away, surprising even himself.

“What?”

Josh shakes his head slowly. “I don’t wanna fuck.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t want to.”

Josh feels anger at the silence that follows. Does the kid not get it? Is he going to start in on some ‘but it’s our last time together’ speech? If he did, it would only further Josh’s convictions that he doesn’t want to have the typical One Last Time. All Josh wants to do is be alone now, to lie back and think of the good times. He does it now, Elijah’s silence allowing it.

It’d been Elijah that had made the first move, right in the dressing room they shared. Tired from a long day and half-dressed, Josh had been pressed up against the wall and Elijah’s mouth had crushed against his own. The fact that the boy had no fear in doing such made him kiss back, even if the taste of another boy’s mouth had confused him. They’d kissed their way to the door, Josh locking it with a blind hand and proceeded to fuck on the small couch against the wall. One big rush, the biggest Josh had ever felt.

He’d faked sleep the time Elijah had woken up in the middle of the night to piss and came back with his cock half-hard. He’d let Elijah kiss his neck and trail down his spine, knowing what was to happen. The boy wanted to be the one to take for the first time, showing such in pressing his dick against Josh’s cleft. It’d been only fair. When saliva-soaked fingers began fingering, Josh finally moaned, gripped Elijah’s hip from behind and let their spooning turn into sex. Elijah made the same noises as when he was being the fuckee, said the same things, only he growled a bit more and been the one biting into the nape of Josh’s neck.

The last time they’d had sex had been four nights before, and Josh had been drunk. It was the first time that the last time had entered his mind, and he hadn’t wanted to think about it. It’d been angry sex; he remembers how Elijah had cried, how it’d barely registered in Josh’s alcohol-drenched mind. When he realized later that he’d actually physically hurt his lover, Josh had cried as well. It was forgiven without another thought, but Josh wouldn’t ever forget it. Perhaps that was one of the reasons that he was trying to deny any ‘activity’ now, as if he didn’t deserve it.

Elijah was making it painfully clear that it was fine, however. Josh couldn’t give in; he was more pissed off than he’d been that night. He’d make Elijah bleed with his desperation, he was sure of it.

“Fuck me,” Elijah breathes against his neck. The wet he leaves at Josh’s ear lets him know that there are more tears. Josh doesn’t want more pain, in whatever form. There’s no bottle to jump into right now--if they fuck, he’s going to feel it. They BOTH will.

At the end of his thoughts, he figures that he doesn’t want their last time to have been four nights ago. He gives in and climbs on top of Elijah; pins his wrists, mounts him and sucks their lips together. Elijah moans as their hips roll, Elijah’s back arching up to press against Josh.

Josh wants the kisses to disappear. He wants to let Elijah’s wrists go and wrap his hands around the boy’s throat to strangle him, to make him pay for how Josh feels. Elijah’s wrists are going to be bruised from his holding back that urge, Josh is sure of that. He fights it all down into his gut and stills it, all to make Elijah believe that this last time is exactly what he wants. The eventual fucking makes the bed shake and boils Josh’s blood, until release arrives--quicker than usual, but Elijah doesn’t say anything.

It isn’t until the next morning when Josh is dressed and out the door when he realizes that Elijah never came. He’d only smiled, taken Josh’s face in his hands and kissed him lightly. Josh had tasted the unspoken ‘I love you’ on Elijah’s lips; it’d been like broken glass.