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[wintergameskink]

2010 Winter Games Kink Meme
Part 2

I never really expected this to take off so well, let alone end up with 4000+ comments. Now it's time for part 2!
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1. We are all here to have a little fun. Am I right? 

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sort-of-fill [4/8]

[anonymous]

JR is past eighteen and his ink has settled into a deep charcoal gray. Lines always blur after enough time. Sometimes when he talks to Apolo at night they don't even talk at all, just lie there breathing together, thinking. Sometimes JR breaks the silence: tell me what. Sometimes he doesn't, and tries to guess the patterns of breath, what inhale means what heartbeat means -

Apolo, for his part, alternates between rubbing his hand over the low edge of his stomach and digging his nails into his thighs. One means I want to. One means I'll scar myself first.

One night they go out for a drive, aimless, JR's parents have had one of their rare serious arguments and he can't stand to be in the house with its still, cold air. Apolo feels like a superhero, pulling up in his black car with the tinted windows to sweep JR away. The road rolls out behind them for miles. JR says, "Everything is all blurry. I forgot to put my glasses on."

"I'll tell you if there's anything you need to see."

They hit a stop sign and Apolo glances to the side, and it's strange, but JR is just... looking at him. Head cocked slightly to the side. He makes a soft questioning noise, but all JR will say is, "I don't think there'll be anything important." And he doesn't look away.

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Imagine: space and time twist together like a caduceus, are tugged apart into a net, thrown across the universe. Imagine being that close to something. Imagine being braided up so close that you had to stretch apart, had to pull away, couldn't escape because by then you were already woven together, warp and weft.

JR throws himself into his skating harder than ever before, dragging himself home at night, so exhausted he can barely sit up long enough to eat dinner. He still wakes at two AM, stares at the ceiling and wants to punch something why is this happening to me, the same dreams all the time. Wakes and falls back into dreams that somewhere someone is dreaming back at him. Over lunch one day he says to Apolo, "You were in a nightmare I had last night."

The slightest faltering. " - What happened in it?"

"You kept trying to bite my neck. I think you were a vampire." Both of them notice the reversed order of these sentences; both their eyes stray a moment - JR's to a mouth, Apolo's to a vein - pieces - what could have collided. JR doesn't say how he woke feeling seared all over, lying on his belly, hips rocking frantic before he was even fully aware where he was. Apolo doesn't say how sometimes, when he's lagging at practice, or a few minutes late coming in, it's because of the insomnia that pins his eyelids open and plays flickering movies in too-vivid color.

They eat in near silence for the rest of the meal. And maybe their silence is more comfort than someone else's speech, but that doesn't make it what they want.

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Tethers and ropes and wires and cords. Stretched out. Tensed. In classes, JR means to pay attention, but all he can do is cover his notebook pages in crosshatched lines.

Ellipses and spaces. The things you don't say. The things that get breathed out in your half-sleep, the name you aren't whispering to the person you want to be whispering it to.

If he digs his pen hard enough into the page, nobody can see the thoughts he wanted to put there.

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