ooo :: Dreamshare oo2
[Well, there are balloons. And something like but not quite? porn (You know by now who Bell's doing so you know all the disclaimers already). And no it's not based on a sugary pop song but I'll be darned if those lyrics didn't fit well enough after the fact. Dreams don't have to make sense, right?]
Warnings for Porn...ish? :: OPEN
Thursday Night
You're a teenager. Which is awkward and stupid, as being a teenager generally is, but especially more so when you realize you...don't actually remember being a teenager. Ever, before now at least. Nor do you know what anyone--Lyle and actual teenagers aside--looked like as a teenager...so it's more like they look the same (in that fuzzy way people look like themselves and like shapeless, faceless, pseudo-named entities in dreams) and the subconscious label of TEENAGER has been applied to their being.
But you're a teenager and so is everyone around you and it appears to be that you're at some sort of party in the park. Sometimes there's balloons, multitudes of them, sometimes not. Your mind is still deciding just how it'd like to represent the concept of 'party' for you. Frankly, your interpretation of party is rather dull, but streamers were never really your thing.
In fact, this Party kind of resembles that failure of a bake-sale Watch had once. Only not. Because obviously that wasn't a party (it was barely even a bake-sale). But there's enough of a similarity that you kind of wonder sometimes IF this IS The Bake-sale. Maybe you should buy a cookie. For the cause. Maybe they'll still go for that calendar. Teenagers like porn, right?
This teenager-thing may partly contribute to the overall feeling of nervousness you feel. Part anxiety, part something you can't quite pin down yet because your mind hasn't fleshed it out, but a feeling like having had too much caffeine and too little sleep. You linger around the sidelines of the party like a wallflower, watching all the groups with their friends and dates and cups of punch.
Still, it's nice. It's really very nice. Things look happy, belonging, together. Stupidly simple and exaggerated feelings like only kids know.
Yet you keep waiting for a balloon to pop and ruin it all.
There's the feeling of time passing, like your brain is orchestrating a fast-forward, either because it's bored with this part, or you're muddling over parts you don't really remember. It doesn't really matter. Things happened, the party went on, but you don't quite know what specifically happened. People seem to be enjoying themselves.
Kagerou brings you a cookie (a sugar cookie, it looks like, but you don't know since you're not one for sweets). She's cute in whatever she's wearing and she reminds you of someone and you're not sure how to deal with that, with girls, with anyone, at this age, and you keep waiting for that balloon to pop somewhere, but then she's there and you're talking about dogs and you aren't really sure about what is said, only that it is pleasant. When she leaves, there's an orange balloon tied to your chair. You wonder how it got there, since suddenly the party seems to be devoid of orange balloons. Didn't it have some before? Maybe. You really can't remember now.
That silly feeling is back, the balloon-popping one. The weird mix of voyeuristic happiness and anxiety keeps you from joining the rest of the party, even though Tribble devouring the large cake over there does seem like it would be interesting to see and it's drawing a rather large crowd...
Somewhere in there people return to their regular ages without ever seeming to change. Gai joins you, admiring the lack of a scarf around your face. Oh, god. When did that go away? Didn't you remember one this morning when you got dressed for the party? You feel very exposed and self-conscious and it seems like everyone at the park is looking at you and Gai's trying to get you to say hi instead of doing the very good impression of a rock that you are trying to do instead.
It's a feeling very akin to standing naked on a stage. You could even be naked right now, except your main concern is your uncovered face. You're...not sure anyone here likes what they see, but then maybe they don't like your scarves either. The scarves aren't to everyone's tastes, and those that don't think the scarves are ugly want to borrow them instead. You're okay if people look, but you'd rather they not borrow.
Gai suggests you put on the scarf Kagerou gave you. Ah, right, it wasn't a cookie, you guess, it was a scarf, because Gai said so and maybe it makes more sense this way. It's red. The fabric fits, snugly, safely. You feel better in it, like yourself, before. No one even notices you now. That's about right. You're almost invisible.
But Gai's still looking at you, just you, and his eyes are so amazingly dark.
Oh, the balloon-popping feeling is back. It's such a stupid feeling now, nervous but almost giddy, like someone has heated up the air-molecules inside the balloon until they're vibrating, vibrating, ready to burst...come apart at the seams, implode or explode into blinding heat... and now you want to pop the balloon yourself just because otherwise it's going to explode--
So you do.
"What are you, thirteen?" Lin says with disdain. "Stop that." She looks mildly disgusted at you and where the balloon used to be. Maybe more than mildly disgusted, you don't know; you're beginning to question how well you read people. The POP seems to have caught a lot of attention, but not in a good way. Popping balloons disturbs the peace. No one likes disturbers of the peace. You're not quite invisible anymore now. They're looking at you, annoyed, and they're looking at Gai...who has a balloon of his own, a bright green one, and he's grinning like a fool.
It's like you share a secret, just the two of you. That's more exciting than you care to admit, like you've never shared a secret before, only kept them to yourself. Gai's grin turns into that stupid, sexy wicked, semi-apologetic-only-not-really thing he gets when he's about to do something very, very naughty. Something naughty you probably taught him, or at least helped to hone in him, and you don't care who else is watching, or who might get mad, because for this second, you can just see him and that challenging secret that says 'I will if you will.'
Your heart is thundering in your chest.
Of course you will.
The party-balloons burst in an explosion of sound and white-hot light, like firecrackers in the night sky.
You're kissing, almost breathless.
His lips are familiar even in a dream, even when sex is mostly sensations and fumbling in the darkness. The heat is simmering heat of summer sunset, clothes still on, sheets beneath you still cool to the touch. His lips leave your own, wet and cool now against the air, and he presses warm kisses down your exposed jawline, under your chin and down your neck. Together, your bodies rock against one another.
Your chosen name is on his lips and it sounds like a bell, a deep, rich and heavy, steady ringing each time he whispers it against your skin. His voice, his touch, his kiss do all the things they're supposed to do to a male body still in his sexual prime, and you're overtaken by that buzzing, anxious balloon feeling again, only it's better now, more hazy, dizzying, achingly better.
And then you're stripping off Gai's shirt, hands running over his firmly toned shoulders and chest and abdomen, and then down to his groin, where you can feel his sizable package through his pants.
His grin is wickedly sweet against your neck and he kisses you again.
Warnings for Porn...ish? :: OPEN
Thursday Night
You're a teenager. Which is awkward and stupid, as being a teenager generally is, but especially more so when you realize you...don't actually remember being a teenager. Ever, before now at least. Nor do you know what anyone--Lyle and actual teenagers aside--looked like as a teenager...so it's more like they look the same (in that fuzzy way people look like themselves and like shapeless, faceless, pseudo-named entities in dreams) and the subconscious label of TEENAGER has been applied to their being.
But you're a teenager and so is everyone around you and it appears to be that you're at some sort of party in the park. Sometimes there's balloons, multitudes of them, sometimes not. Your mind is still deciding just how it'd like to represent the concept of 'party' for you. Frankly, your interpretation of party is rather dull, but streamers were never really your thing.
In fact, this Party kind of resembles that failure of a bake-sale Watch had once. Only not. Because obviously that wasn't a party (it was barely even a bake-sale). But there's enough of a similarity that you kind of wonder sometimes IF this IS The Bake-sale. Maybe you should buy a cookie. For the cause. Maybe they'll still go for that calendar. Teenagers like porn, right?
This teenager-thing may partly contribute to the overall feeling of nervousness you feel. Part anxiety, part something you can't quite pin down yet because your mind hasn't fleshed it out, but a feeling like having had too much caffeine and too little sleep. You linger around the sidelines of the party like a wallflower, watching all the groups with their friends and dates and cups of punch.
Still, it's nice. It's really very nice. Things look happy, belonging, together. Stupidly simple and exaggerated feelings like only kids know.
Yet you keep waiting for a balloon to pop and ruin it all.
There's the feeling of time passing, like your brain is orchestrating a fast-forward, either because it's bored with this part, or you're muddling over parts you don't really remember. It doesn't really matter. Things happened, the party went on, but you don't quite know what specifically happened. People seem to be enjoying themselves.
Kagerou brings you a cookie (a sugar cookie, it looks like, but you don't know since you're not one for sweets). She's cute in whatever she's wearing and she reminds you of someone and you're not sure how to deal with that, with girls, with anyone, at this age, and you keep waiting for that balloon to pop somewhere, but then she's there and you're talking about dogs and you aren't really sure about what is said, only that it is pleasant. When she leaves, there's an orange balloon tied to your chair. You wonder how it got there, since suddenly the party seems to be devoid of orange balloons. Didn't it have some before? Maybe. You really can't remember now.
That silly feeling is back, the balloon-popping one. The weird mix of voyeuristic happiness and anxiety keeps you from joining the rest of the party, even though Tribble devouring the large cake over there does seem like it would be interesting to see and it's drawing a rather large crowd...
Somewhere in there people return to their regular ages without ever seeming to change. Gai joins you, admiring the lack of a scarf around your face. Oh, god. When did that go away? Didn't you remember one this morning when you got dressed for the party? You feel very exposed and self-conscious and it seems like everyone at the park is looking at you and Gai's trying to get you to say hi instead of doing the very good impression of a rock that you are trying to do instead.
It's a feeling very akin to standing naked on a stage. You could even be naked right now, except your main concern is your uncovered face. You're...not sure anyone here likes what they see, but then maybe they don't like your scarves either. The scarves aren't to everyone's tastes, and those that don't think the scarves are ugly want to borrow them instead. You're okay if people look, but you'd rather they not borrow.
Gai suggests you put on the scarf Kagerou gave you. Ah, right, it wasn't a cookie, you guess, it was a scarf, because Gai said so and maybe it makes more sense this way. It's red. The fabric fits, snugly, safely. You feel better in it, like yourself, before. No one even notices you now. That's about right. You're almost invisible.
But Gai's still looking at you, just you, and his eyes are so amazingly dark.
Oh, the balloon-popping feeling is back. It's such a stupid feeling now, nervous but almost giddy, like someone has heated up the air-molecules inside the balloon until they're vibrating, vibrating, ready to burst...come apart at the seams, implode or explode into blinding heat... and now you want to pop the balloon yourself just because otherwise it's going to explode--
So you do.
"What are you, thirteen?" Lin says with disdain. "Stop that." She looks mildly disgusted at you and where the balloon used to be. Maybe more than mildly disgusted, you don't know; you're beginning to question how well you read people. The POP seems to have caught a lot of attention, but not in a good way. Popping balloons disturbs the peace. No one likes disturbers of the peace. You're not quite invisible anymore now. They're looking at you, annoyed, and they're looking at Gai...who has a balloon of his own, a bright green one, and he's grinning like a fool.
It's like you share a secret, just the two of you. That's more exciting than you care to admit, like you've never shared a secret before, only kept them to yourself. Gai's grin turns into that stupid, sexy wicked, semi-apologetic-only-not-really thing he gets when he's about to do something very, very naughty. Something naughty you probably taught him, or at least helped to hone in him, and you don't care who else is watching, or who might get mad, because for this second, you can just see him and that challenging secret that says 'I will if you will.'
Your heart is thundering in your chest.
Of course you will.
The party-balloons burst in an explosion of sound and white-hot light, like firecrackers in the night sky.
You're kissing, almost breathless.
His lips are familiar even in a dream, even when sex is mostly sensations and fumbling in the darkness. The heat is simmering heat of summer sunset, clothes still on, sheets beneath you still cool to the touch. His lips leave your own, wet and cool now against the air, and he presses warm kisses down your exposed jawline, under your chin and down your neck. Together, your bodies rock against one another.
Your chosen name is on his lips and it sounds like a bell, a deep, rich and heavy, steady ringing each time he whispers it against your skin. His voice, his touch, his kiss do all the things they're supposed to do to a male body still in his sexual prime, and you're overtaken by that buzzing, anxious balloon feeling again, only it's better now, more hazy, dizzying, achingly better.
And then you're stripping off Gai's shirt, hands running over his firmly toned shoulders and chest and abdomen, and then down to his groin, where you can feel his sizable package through his pants.
His grin is wickedly sweet against your neck and he kisses you again.