I'm in too deep ....
May. 31st, 2004 02:37 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rohansonParis: *the lumber for the hot tub support had arrived earlier that day, and I had spent the afternoon with the guys from the lumber yard unloading, then put the final touches to the porch. I had seen Dave finishing the walls off, and had to admit I was impressed with his hard work. For someone who wasn't used to physical graft, he didn't mind getting stuck in. I showered, and grabbed a couple of cold ones from the fridge, before heading out to join Dave*
Dave: *I'm leaning on the windowsill, smiling out at the porch, pondering whether adding a rocking chair out there would make it look like an old man lives here. I hear the now-familiar sounds of the fridge and the clinking of beers, and Paris padding up behind me. Don't look at his feet, Dave, just take a beer and smile *you did it. It looks so great! I need to get some furniture out there really soon so we can enjoy what you've built. *your hair's still wet from the shower, and a small drop of water runs down your neck. I take a long gulp of beer, glad it's cold and distracting*
Paris: Thanks! I'm quite proud of it! And some really comfortable furniture, stuff you can just flop down on and enjoy the view would be great. *the first mouthful of beer slips down, nice and cold, just what I needed after a hard day's work *you did good yourself today. Got those walls finished. *I turn and look around the house. It really is starting to look good. Casually I ask* How are you feeling?
Dave: *I'm achy as usual, seems to be just part of the game, but for the first time, I hesitate. The backrubs have been amazing - in fact, a little too amazing as time goes on. Last night's nearly pushed me over some boundaries. And then the foot massage, Christ, I think I got as much out of that as you did, and I'm starting to worry about this. Another's touch on my skin is a lot more intense than it used to be, for me. It would be so easy to push things a little further, but I know you're not expecting that, I know you're into Sam, and I don't want to ruin a nice friendship* Bit achy, Paris, but I think a good shower will fix it up tonight, we could give your fingers a rest for once?
Paris: *Ah, much as not giving you a massage would probably mean I get a better night's sleep tonight, and god knows with the dreams back, I could do with one, I enjoy the feel of you beneath my hands* You sure? You were pretty tense last night, and you've worked harder today. *I hope I'm sounding casual!*
Dave: Maybe I'm starting to build up some stamina after working hard every day? *Okay, that came out rather weak, and he's going to notice you didn't look at him as you said it. Maybe just give in, go for the backrub, and act like it's nothing. But damn it, it's not nothing and after the last one I just have to look at your hands and I'm practically twitching* Once we get the hot tub in, I'm sure we'll need the therapy then - that's going to be a big job! *oh, great, right, you and Paris in a hot tub, Dave... you're going to have to do something about this. Dunno what, though.*
Paris: *I smile at you, and try to look innocent* It's gonna be a week before the tubs in, mate! If you keep on working this hard, you'll be bent double by then! Better to ease a little of the tension everyday, that way it doesn't build up. *who am I kidding?? I know that easing one type of tension just causes another, but I've come to enjoy our nightly sessions. And once we get the hot tub in?? Oh boy, that will take frustration to a whole new level* your call, mate.
Dave: *My call. I know you didn't mean it that way, but the words sound ominous to me. Okay, out with it Dave, maybe not all the cards on the table, but give him a few clues. He's trying to help.* Um, let's go out and sit on those new porch steps a minute, okay? Sun's setting and it looks fantastic from in here. And I want to tell you something. *we head out, you giving me curious looks, and we settle in, after I make sure there’s a bit of space between us* A few months ago I had *how to say?* ...well, an accident of sorts, and was rather out of it for a few months. When I came back *I'll leave it to you to take that however you wish*, my senses were really on edge, after not being able to feel anything while I was gone. That's all in the past now - but I'm still extra sensitive to lots of things - sight, like this sunset that looks so dammed good to me, even smell, taste.... and touch. *I pause and glance over at you, seeing if you understand me*
Paris: *You're right, the sunset does look fantastic, and I get the feeling you are about to let your guard down a little* An accident? *when you came back? came back from where? what exactly happened? I know if I ask all the questions I want to, you'll clam up again, and I really don't want that to happen. I gaze off into the sunset. Maybe time to share a little* When I was 20, I was hospitalised for 6 weeks with a viral infection. Temperature was up so high, I wasn't expected to pull through, but I did, and it changed a lot of things for me. Maybe not in the same way, but I know what you mean. *I smile at you* If you really don't want me to touch you, that's fine, but I can take things easier now I know.
Dave: *I gulp hard, there's something in your smile and the way your eyes reflect it, something warm and not shying off from me in the least. You say you'll take it easier, but the knowledge that you'd do so because you understand something about my body better than anyone else has managed to accept, just quadruples the intensity. I don't know if I dare let you touch me at all, ever again, not now. And that is a thought I hate. I've grown used to the feel of your hands pushing all the hurt away, the physical aches, and I should admit other aches, too. Christ, its complex. We touch, and we run from it. Every night. I don't even know what to say to you right now, I'm just staring at your face, nodding numbly, at a loss for words, and that's saying a lot for a talker like me*
Paris: *I'm almost overwhelmed by the feelings pouring off you in waves. I want to take you in my arms, and hold you, let you know I'll be here for you for as long as you need me to be, but I can't do that. I can't promise to stay when I know I have to leave, even though I feel at home here, with you. Weeks, maybe even months, but leaving is inevitable, and you've been hurt enough already. I sigh a little and drop my eyes from yours* I need another beer! *I try to sound bright, when inside, I'm aching* And it's getting cold, you coming in? *It's the hardest thing I've ever done, walk away from you at that moment, even though it's only to the kitchen*
Dave: Yeah, I'm coming in, definitely getting cold, and another beer sounds good. *I follow you in, locking the door, deciding that it’s cold enough to warrant a fire, and I go to add a few logs to the fireplace while you find more beers. I drop to the floor in front of the hearth, soaking up the heat, glad for a chance to let the guard down on my expression, my eyes closed, just trying to stay focused on the warmth coming from the fire*
Paris: *I take a moment in the kitchen, hands braced on the counter top, and I breathe deeply. I grab a couple of bottles from the fridge, and head back. The light from the fire has given your skin a warm glow, and I know that I should keep my distance, know that I should hand you your beer, and retreat to the couch, but I'm drawn to you, I feel your need for understanding radiating from you like the heat from the fire, and I can't ignore it. I walk over, hand you your beer, and sit behind you, not touching, but close enough to feel your heat. This goes against my better judgment, but you need me to be here for you now, and I'll face the future later*
Dave: *quietly, gratefully* Thanks. *I'm thanking you for the beer, but also for more and now I'm getting the feeling you might know that. I know you're just behind me, very close, respecting my distance... but so close I can't help but wonder if you're giving me permission to break that barrier. I hesitate, listening to your breathing, feeling that breath on my skin, sipping my beer - and it's just suddenly too much for me. You're warm and accepting behind me, the fires hot and crackling in front of me, my drink is cold in my hand and my throat. I look up at the ceiling, and set my beer on the floor in front of me, whispering quietly* Thank you for everything. And it's not that I don't want you to touch me, Paris...
Paris: *I hear your words, and I think I know what you are going to say, and really, honestly, I respect your reasons, even before I hear them. Why then, am I leaning forward, closing the slim gap between us, and placing a soft kiss on your neck?*
Dave: *My head drops down, I exhale slowly, your lips barely touch me but you might as well be branding me with a tattoo, the intensity is that searing in my present state of mind. I lean back slightly, one hand reaching back to touch your arm, tentatively. What am I doing?*
Paris: *I feel your touch on my arm and you're not pushing me away, so I let instinct win over reason. My bring my hand up to rest gently on your arm, and my lips move slowly, softly down your neck, and onto your shoulder, my tongue darting out over your snake tattoo*
Dave: *My resolve's crumbling fast, the shivers flying down my spine definitely making it hard to stop what's starting here. I turn my head to look over my shoulder, the smell of your freshly washed hair drawing me, and I turn slightly, causing you to lose your touch on my back, and the sight of you in the firelight is something I won't be forgetting for a few nights to come. What harm could come of one kiss? As soon as I think the thought, I know I'm justifying what I shouldn't be doing, but still... I'm turning more, leaning closer, lips seeking yours*
Paris: *You lean towards me, your gaze intense, and I brush my lips lightly over yours, knowing how it must feel with your heightened senses, but now we've come this far, I want to taste you. My fingers thread through your hair as I take it further, my tongue running over your lips, seeking entrance to your mouth*
Dave: *Oh, god, you taste so good. My mouth opens to yours, my hands finding your shoulders, sliding up to your neck as we both give in and let the kiss simply happen. My mind is a mix of denial and agreement - I can't give you more than this, I don't dare take more than this from you, I've already gone too far, but you did first, no, I left myself open to you... I want my mind to stop spinning and the only way I know how to do that is to kiss you even more deeply. I should stop... in a few minutes, yes, I'll stop then.*
Paris: *You're pulling me closer, and I relish the contact I've craved these past weeks, letting myself sink into the kiss. Your lips, your tongue, your taste should be all I'm thinking about, but I feel the conflict within you. I linger, committing every touch, every taste to memory, the way your hair feels in my hands, the way your body is pressed close to mine, and then I ease away, resting my forehead on yours, unsure of what to say, unsure of where we go from here.*
Dave: I'd say I'm sorry, but I'm not sure I am. *it's all I can manage to say, my eyes are riveted on your swollen lips, the taste of them fresh on my own. But you're right to end this, and I feel you have, gently but decisively. I brush my fingers through your hair, then with a sigh, I lean back, trying my best to give you a smile, my eyes hardly able to do more than look into yours* We shouldn't be doing this. *I pause, hating the words as I say them* Should we?
Paris: I'm not sorry either, but no, we shouldn't. *I'm staring into your eyes, and every cell is screaming YES!! But the answer has to be no. You're too open now, and we could easily get caught up in this. I've come to value your friendship too much to want to cause you anymore pain when I go. Whatever is going on around here, whatever it is you are hiding, is dragging you down, and I don't want to add to it. I wanted to help, and think I might have messed up even that. I smile softly, and move away from you* I need some air. I'll see you in the morning. *I can't resist reaching out and touching your face before walking back out onto the porch, and closing the door behind me*
Dave: I sit and stare at the fire, grabbing my beer and draining the remains in one draw. I don't want to see him in the morning, I want to see him now but he's right, and it's starting to look like I need to rely on Paris's good judgment. Although, he did kiss me first.... What's done is done, and I just hope he doesn't pack his bike and take off before dawn. We can get past this, the draw is there but we can be adults about it, right? I stand, and go to the door, but my hand stays on the doorknob, not turning it, because I honestly don't know what else to say right now. And so, I turn and go to bed. My last thoughts as I drift off are a plea. "Don't leave. Please."
Dave: *I'm leaning on the windowsill, smiling out at the porch, pondering whether adding a rocking chair out there would make it look like an old man lives here. I hear the now-familiar sounds of the fridge and the clinking of beers, and Paris padding up behind me. Don't look at his feet, Dave, just take a beer and smile *you did it. It looks so great! I need to get some furniture out there really soon so we can enjoy what you've built. *your hair's still wet from the shower, and a small drop of water runs down your neck. I take a long gulp of beer, glad it's cold and distracting*
Paris: Thanks! I'm quite proud of it! And some really comfortable furniture, stuff you can just flop down on and enjoy the view would be great. *the first mouthful of beer slips down, nice and cold, just what I needed after a hard day's work *you did good yourself today. Got those walls finished. *I turn and look around the house. It really is starting to look good. Casually I ask* How are you feeling?
Dave: *I'm achy as usual, seems to be just part of the game, but for the first time, I hesitate. The backrubs have been amazing - in fact, a little too amazing as time goes on. Last night's nearly pushed me over some boundaries. And then the foot massage, Christ, I think I got as much out of that as you did, and I'm starting to worry about this. Another's touch on my skin is a lot more intense than it used to be, for me. It would be so easy to push things a little further, but I know you're not expecting that, I know you're into Sam, and I don't want to ruin a nice friendship* Bit achy, Paris, but I think a good shower will fix it up tonight, we could give your fingers a rest for once?
Paris: *Ah, much as not giving you a massage would probably mean I get a better night's sleep tonight, and god knows with the dreams back, I could do with one, I enjoy the feel of you beneath my hands* You sure? You were pretty tense last night, and you've worked harder today. *I hope I'm sounding casual!*
Dave: Maybe I'm starting to build up some stamina after working hard every day? *Okay, that came out rather weak, and he's going to notice you didn't look at him as you said it. Maybe just give in, go for the backrub, and act like it's nothing. But damn it, it's not nothing and after the last one I just have to look at your hands and I'm practically twitching* Once we get the hot tub in, I'm sure we'll need the therapy then - that's going to be a big job! *oh, great, right, you and Paris in a hot tub, Dave... you're going to have to do something about this. Dunno what, though.*
Paris: *I smile at you, and try to look innocent* It's gonna be a week before the tubs in, mate! If you keep on working this hard, you'll be bent double by then! Better to ease a little of the tension everyday, that way it doesn't build up. *who am I kidding?? I know that easing one type of tension just causes another, but I've come to enjoy our nightly sessions. And once we get the hot tub in?? Oh boy, that will take frustration to a whole new level* your call, mate.
Dave: *My call. I know you didn't mean it that way, but the words sound ominous to me. Okay, out with it Dave, maybe not all the cards on the table, but give him a few clues. He's trying to help.* Um, let's go out and sit on those new porch steps a minute, okay? Sun's setting and it looks fantastic from in here. And I want to tell you something. *we head out, you giving me curious looks, and we settle in, after I make sure there’s a bit of space between us* A few months ago I had *how to say?* ...well, an accident of sorts, and was rather out of it for a few months. When I came back *I'll leave it to you to take that however you wish*, my senses were really on edge, after not being able to feel anything while I was gone. That's all in the past now - but I'm still extra sensitive to lots of things - sight, like this sunset that looks so dammed good to me, even smell, taste.... and touch. *I pause and glance over at you, seeing if you understand me*
Paris: *You're right, the sunset does look fantastic, and I get the feeling you are about to let your guard down a little* An accident? *when you came back? came back from where? what exactly happened? I know if I ask all the questions I want to, you'll clam up again, and I really don't want that to happen. I gaze off into the sunset. Maybe time to share a little* When I was 20, I was hospitalised for 6 weeks with a viral infection. Temperature was up so high, I wasn't expected to pull through, but I did, and it changed a lot of things for me. Maybe not in the same way, but I know what you mean. *I smile at you* If you really don't want me to touch you, that's fine, but I can take things easier now I know.
Dave: *I gulp hard, there's something in your smile and the way your eyes reflect it, something warm and not shying off from me in the least. You say you'll take it easier, but the knowledge that you'd do so because you understand something about my body better than anyone else has managed to accept, just quadruples the intensity. I don't know if I dare let you touch me at all, ever again, not now. And that is a thought I hate. I've grown used to the feel of your hands pushing all the hurt away, the physical aches, and I should admit other aches, too. Christ, its complex. We touch, and we run from it. Every night. I don't even know what to say to you right now, I'm just staring at your face, nodding numbly, at a loss for words, and that's saying a lot for a talker like me*
Paris: *I'm almost overwhelmed by the feelings pouring off you in waves. I want to take you in my arms, and hold you, let you know I'll be here for you for as long as you need me to be, but I can't do that. I can't promise to stay when I know I have to leave, even though I feel at home here, with you. Weeks, maybe even months, but leaving is inevitable, and you've been hurt enough already. I sigh a little and drop my eyes from yours* I need another beer! *I try to sound bright, when inside, I'm aching* And it's getting cold, you coming in? *It's the hardest thing I've ever done, walk away from you at that moment, even though it's only to the kitchen*
Dave: Yeah, I'm coming in, definitely getting cold, and another beer sounds good. *I follow you in, locking the door, deciding that it’s cold enough to warrant a fire, and I go to add a few logs to the fireplace while you find more beers. I drop to the floor in front of the hearth, soaking up the heat, glad for a chance to let the guard down on my expression, my eyes closed, just trying to stay focused on the warmth coming from the fire*
Paris: *I take a moment in the kitchen, hands braced on the counter top, and I breathe deeply. I grab a couple of bottles from the fridge, and head back. The light from the fire has given your skin a warm glow, and I know that I should keep my distance, know that I should hand you your beer, and retreat to the couch, but I'm drawn to you, I feel your need for understanding radiating from you like the heat from the fire, and I can't ignore it. I walk over, hand you your beer, and sit behind you, not touching, but close enough to feel your heat. This goes against my better judgment, but you need me to be here for you now, and I'll face the future later*
Dave: *quietly, gratefully* Thanks. *I'm thanking you for the beer, but also for more and now I'm getting the feeling you might know that. I know you're just behind me, very close, respecting my distance... but so close I can't help but wonder if you're giving me permission to break that barrier. I hesitate, listening to your breathing, feeling that breath on my skin, sipping my beer - and it's just suddenly too much for me. You're warm and accepting behind me, the fires hot and crackling in front of me, my drink is cold in my hand and my throat. I look up at the ceiling, and set my beer on the floor in front of me, whispering quietly* Thank you for everything. And it's not that I don't want you to touch me, Paris...
Paris: *I hear your words, and I think I know what you are going to say, and really, honestly, I respect your reasons, even before I hear them. Why then, am I leaning forward, closing the slim gap between us, and placing a soft kiss on your neck?*
Dave: *My head drops down, I exhale slowly, your lips barely touch me but you might as well be branding me with a tattoo, the intensity is that searing in my present state of mind. I lean back slightly, one hand reaching back to touch your arm, tentatively. What am I doing?*
Paris: *I feel your touch on my arm and you're not pushing me away, so I let instinct win over reason. My bring my hand up to rest gently on your arm, and my lips move slowly, softly down your neck, and onto your shoulder, my tongue darting out over your snake tattoo*
Dave: *My resolve's crumbling fast, the shivers flying down my spine definitely making it hard to stop what's starting here. I turn my head to look over my shoulder, the smell of your freshly washed hair drawing me, and I turn slightly, causing you to lose your touch on my back, and the sight of you in the firelight is something I won't be forgetting for a few nights to come. What harm could come of one kiss? As soon as I think the thought, I know I'm justifying what I shouldn't be doing, but still... I'm turning more, leaning closer, lips seeking yours*
Paris: *You lean towards me, your gaze intense, and I brush my lips lightly over yours, knowing how it must feel with your heightened senses, but now we've come this far, I want to taste you. My fingers thread through your hair as I take it further, my tongue running over your lips, seeking entrance to your mouth*
Dave: *Oh, god, you taste so good. My mouth opens to yours, my hands finding your shoulders, sliding up to your neck as we both give in and let the kiss simply happen. My mind is a mix of denial and agreement - I can't give you more than this, I don't dare take more than this from you, I've already gone too far, but you did first, no, I left myself open to you... I want my mind to stop spinning and the only way I know how to do that is to kiss you even more deeply. I should stop... in a few minutes, yes, I'll stop then.*
Paris: *You're pulling me closer, and I relish the contact I've craved these past weeks, letting myself sink into the kiss. Your lips, your tongue, your taste should be all I'm thinking about, but I feel the conflict within you. I linger, committing every touch, every taste to memory, the way your hair feels in my hands, the way your body is pressed close to mine, and then I ease away, resting my forehead on yours, unsure of what to say, unsure of where we go from here.*
Dave: I'd say I'm sorry, but I'm not sure I am. *it's all I can manage to say, my eyes are riveted on your swollen lips, the taste of them fresh on my own. But you're right to end this, and I feel you have, gently but decisively. I brush my fingers through your hair, then with a sigh, I lean back, trying my best to give you a smile, my eyes hardly able to do more than look into yours* We shouldn't be doing this. *I pause, hating the words as I say them* Should we?
Paris: I'm not sorry either, but no, we shouldn't. *I'm staring into your eyes, and every cell is screaming YES!! But the answer has to be no. You're too open now, and we could easily get caught up in this. I've come to value your friendship too much to want to cause you anymore pain when I go. Whatever is going on around here, whatever it is you are hiding, is dragging you down, and I don't want to add to it. I wanted to help, and think I might have messed up even that. I smile softly, and move away from you* I need some air. I'll see you in the morning. *I can't resist reaching out and touching your face before walking back out onto the porch, and closing the door behind me*
Dave: I sit and stare at the fire, grabbing my beer and draining the remains in one draw. I don't want to see him in the morning, I want to see him now but he's right, and it's starting to look like I need to rely on Paris's good judgment. Although, he did kiss me first.... What's done is done, and I just hope he doesn't pack his bike and take off before dawn. We can get past this, the draw is there but we can be adults about it, right? I stand, and go to the door, but my hand stays on the doorknob, not turning it, because I honestly don't know what else to say right now. And so, I turn and go to bed. My last thoughts as I drift off are a plea. "Don't leave. Please."
