A Handful of Stars

Feb 27, 2008 02:38


Title: A Handful of Stars
Fandom: Honeydew Syndrome
Pairing: Charles/Jay
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Charles is walking home and happens to pass his old elementary school playground, a conflicted Jay settled on the swings.
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, they belong solely to the beautiful and talented Nuu and Cloverx *looks longingly after them*
Author’s Note: Quick little ficlet for ZexyKay. Because I still need to get imput back from a friend on my work for Zanni_smile’s prompt before posting it. It’s done! I swear! *wails*

His shadow stretched out before him on the smooth pavement, contorted before the setting sun. Early spring equated the need for light jackets, and for Charles it necessitated a horrendous brown and yellow striped scarf, hand knitted. He frowned, fidgeting with the uneven edges, wondering if May would still glare if he took it off now, where no one could see him. The wind brushed through his hair, bringing with it the clean scent of rain washed snowdrops and electric green new grass. Inhaling deeply, he stuffed his hands in the heavy black peacoat that May insisted made him look tolerably-good-looking.

His loafers scuffed along the dirty snow heaped over the edge of the gutter. Lamp posts were starting to flicker on, and a car parked by the side of the road had its lights on. Charles tilted his head, blinking at it. He knew that car. Turning his head he glanced about in the gathering dark, his eyes coming to rest on a solitary figure hunched in an oversize fluffy white coat with a white and gray fur lined hood, dragging his feet slowly in the gravel under the swings, his hands twisted in the chains. Making his way over to the low chain link fence Charles swung the gate open with a low creak, crunching across the black and yellow painted asphalt to the swing set.

“Hey Jay.”

Jay looked up, his blue eyes fixing on the blonde materializing out of the dark like his own personal anti-christ. Disentangling his fingers from the cold chains of the swing he sat in, he popped out the earbuds without taking his eyes off of Charles, Jay Jay Johanson’s soft voice crooning “I thought it would be easy to break up with you…” from his ipod. Shutting it off he stuffed it back in his pocket, rocking himself back on his heels and pushing back, leaning back stiff legged as he eyed the unpredictable boy advancing towards him.

“Hey Charles. What’s up?”

Charles leaned against the pole of the swing set, taking in Jay’s bootcut stretch jeans (no matter how much he protested, he was pretty much one hundred percent sure those jeans had not started their career in the boy’s section of the store), the checker patterned Vans, the soft strands of hair that seemed to capture the last rays of light and hold it. The jacket didn’t seem incredibly masculine either, but there was something about Jay… he never forgot he was a man.

“Nothing, just saw your car parked by the school. You left your lights on dumbass.”

“Yeah, I didn’t think I would be here that long.”

Charles looked closer, the soft flush across Jay’s cheeks could be from a blush or from the cold. Or it could be from crying. He glanced back towards the gate, seriously contemplating making up an excuse and scooting out of there. He didn’t think he could take a crying Jay… just the thought made the back of his throat tighten anxiously. Sighing sufferingly, Charles slid into the swing next to the scene kid, pretending to inspect his nails.

“You okay?”

Jay looked up at the sky, clouds obscuring the moon from view. Exhaling slowly, he watched the crystallized atoms of his moist oxygen tumble and dissipate from his mouth in a white cloud, licking his lips. The easy answer is yes. He opened his mouth, lips parting to expel the word, he wanted Charles to go away. He wanted Charles to mind his own fucking business.

“No.”

“…”

“What’s wrong?”

The chains of their swings creaked and sang raspily as the two boys scuffed and shuffled back and forth, back and forth, the cold sinking into their exposed hands. Charles wondered idly if he hurried, if he could catch the tail end of CSI. Not that he watched TV or anything. TV was for the plebians.

“Have you ever wanted something, but you just couldn’t figure out why?”

Charles just looked at him. Shaking his pale hair out of his eyes, he shrugged nonchalantly, pushing off the ground and swinging forward, the frame for the swingset moaning rustily.

“Like what?”

“…”

“Like you.”

Charles stumbled to a halt, gravel skidding under his shoes as he twisted to look at Jay. Jay looked back at him unflinchingly, head tilted to the side as he waited for a reaction. Charles’ lips twisted up in self derision, his eyes sliding away. He couldn’t look him in the eyes, his heartbeat in his mouth like a fluttering bird.

“Don’t play with me.”

Jay stared down at his lap, hands shaking on the chains of the swing as he stood in one swift motion. Two steps and he was in front of Charles, sinking to his knees as his cold hands trapped Charles’ on the chains.

“I wouldn’t play with you,” he murmured quietly, shrugging out of his coat. The fur on the hood made a sound of dry sand sprinkling against canvas as it brushed against Charles’ legs, Jay’s bare arms pale and slender in the light dusk. His hands slid into Charles’ hair on either side of his face, tugging him down until their lips were centimeters apart, his eyes wide open and staring him fearlessly straight on. Charles couldn’t move, frozen in place. “Every time you look at me all you see is some pretty boy poser right? I’m tired of seeing that superior look in your eyes.”

Before Charles could respond, before he could protest, those soft lips were pressing to his. Jay’s fingers dug into his hair, tugging sharply and eliciting a soft sound from his mouth. Taking full advantage of the parting of his lips, Jay thrust his tongue inside in a wet slide, probing and running over the slick surface of his teeth, sucking Charles’ tongue out in a challenging bid for dominance. Charles panted. He squirmed. His head was spinning and he couldn’t seem to… there was a hand on his… he moaned, melting under that touch, that kiss, the scent of Jay and Jay and Jay.

Breaking the kiss, Jay rolled his eyes up to watch Charles’ panting, flushed face as he pulled his miraculously undone pants (how did that happen?) down in one quick rough tug, his cold fingers sliding down to slender hips. Charles scrambled to collect his thoughts, but it wasn’t easy when Jay was looking at him like he was the last stick of gum in a world overtaken by sardines and garlic demons, like he needed him more than his next breath. Sucking in a harsh gasp, Charles twisted one hand in the chains of the swing he hung suspended in, the other falling to that soft hair, pushing it back from Jay’s face tenderly. There was something he was going to say, he was sure of it. A protest, a beg, a recitation of the Declaration of Independence who the hell knew because the words were lost in his throat when Jay’s mouth parted, when Jay’s lips sunk down over the tip of his quivering prick… a slick tongue… oh god teeth… He could feel his world tilting on its axis.

“No…” He groaned, arching his hips up helplessly, his legs falling open easily. Without realizing it, he had forced himself to answer Jay’s accusation. “No… no!” No… he didn’t see Jay as a pretty boy poser. He didn’t think he was superior. Jay ignored him, tilting his head and taking him in deeper. “Uhn! Ah! J-Jay!” Jay traced his tongue around the underside of the head, his teeth grazing the sensitive flesh and forcing a shiver down Charles’ spine. He twisted and panted, his cheeks flushed, his pale hair sticking to the sides of his sweaty face as Jay pushed him higher and higher into the wings of abandon, sucking that swollen flesh with an almost painful intensity. His head bobbed up and down over Charles’ lap, his soft bangs held back from his face by the other’s trembling hand. Jay’s lashes lowered over his eyes for a moment, almost demurely, a low moan vibrating along the staff sliding down his throat, before he flicked his gaze up to capture Charles’ eyes. Shuddering violently at the practiced move of heated seduction, Charles couldn’t do it anymore. He couldn’t retain the control he had held over everything, everything, for so long. With a harsh gasp he spilled down Jay’s tight throat, his legs spasming and clamping around Jay’s shoulders, shaking.

Jay pulled back, wiping a milky drop of cum from his chin. Charles’ eyes were glazed as the other calmly did his pants back up, the sound of his zipper loud in the still night air. He closed his eyes, concentrating on bringing his breathing back down to semi-hyperventilating as Jay settled back into the swing next to him without a word. They sat there in silence for long moments.

Jay felt his stomach sink and curl in on itself, regret like an acid taste in his mouth. What if Charles turned to him with his usual self satisfied smirk, thanked him sarcastically for a lovely time, then told him he thought it was time to see other people, all with that damned controlling superiority in his eyes.

Charles felt wiped, like a barren plain of hot sand and blank rock, swept over and through by the fury of a sandstorm. He felt bare and naked and vulnerable, like a shell washed clean and pink and glistening on the shore. Tilting his head back, he stared up at the spotted clouds drifting light across the dark sky, his entire body thrumming with energy and an alien feeling of… calm. Like he finally belonged somewhere. With someone.

They sat next to each other, so close yet not touching. The sound of unsaid words heavy on the ears of one, light on the mouth of the other. The clouds parted overhead, and they watched silently as a handful of stars scattered across the sky, cold and perfect and distant. 

honeydew syndrome, charles x jay, fanfic

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