Black Velvet (29) (Patreon)

(a/n: short&sweet. warnings for: the joys of unwanted, inappropriate, and untimely boners.)

My stomach feels like we've driven over a hill too fast, like I've just plummeted from the top of a roller coaster ride.  I can feel the sensual press of his hips against my lower half, can feel the drag of his sweater over the skin of my stomach.  His barely-there cologne wafts subtly in proximity, inviting — too much.

"Oh — so. You want..."  I pause, sparing a timid glance in Tobias' direction.  I can feel him watching my face, can feel my lips part mostly out of shock, absorbing his confession in a post-adrenaline haze.  His hand on my shoulder tightens and lessens its grip with the rhythm of my pulse, like maybe — "How?"

Like maybe he's nervous.

"How? I've wanted you, "  he breathes, his forehead pressing against mine, lashes downcast.  There's something to him, forlorn and hungry all at once.  It's a deafening feeling.  "— for this long."  It's almost as if he's speaking to himself.

"But how?" It's so meek, the voice of someone who has witnessed a dream, something surreal and untouchable that suddenly becomes more than that.

"There's no how. There just is."

Tobias' eyes lift again, confidence resurfacing, his pupils blown in an honest and distracting way.  He wants to say something else — and I'm so focused on the intent that I nearly don't hear the sound of his screen door opening.

No. Not yet.

There's a moment unburied that becomes ours.  Tobias' attention is mine, and mine is his; there's no mask stifling this rawness — no star brighter or more interesting than his openness, and our skin shares the same warmth as one another.

"Tobias?"

Not yet.

"Tobias — is that you?"

Blamelessly, but all at once, Ms. Amadeus manages to break the trance that's settled over us with her soft call.  All at once, her son forgets his desires — and wraps himself wholly around her beckoning.

"Yeah?" He says back, too immediate — too loyal.

Tobias draws himself away slowly and reluctantly, the loss of his body heat chilling my overly sensitive body.  He stands, a quick swipe of a deft hand beneath his waistband as my eyes widen — as he readjusts.

He isn't lying.

Tobias wants...

Ms. Amadeus is approaching us quietly, an air to her tone, the unknowing sort, unable to see easily past the hedge line.

"Um — wait," I start, but my voice can't be coaxed, hoarse from nerves.  He glances toward me.  "Tobias — wait, don't go.  Not yet."

You'll never come back to that sentence if you do.

Tobias' eyes say more than before, as blatant as a promise, and I stare, wide-eyed and breathless from the grass.  I struggle to catch my thoughts, tracking Tobias as he strides back to his mom.

"I have to."

I hear him too late. He steals a lingering look over his shoulder, just once, and I don't know what his expression says to me.

Is his want, and what I feel, the same?

I push myself up from the grass before Ms. Amadeus can see me, pushing my shirt down — running the back of my hand over my overheated cheeks.  I duck down under one of the larger hedges until the warmth thrumming underneath my skin subsides.

"... Was that Oliver?"  I hear her question.

I leave my broken science project, scrambling only for the few larger pieces of cardboard and clay.  I can't help the way I keep sliding my fingers through my hair, nerves a live-wire.  I can feel Tobias' eyes on my back as I try to calm myself, as I chuck the disaster into the recyclable bin by the driveway.

I glance over at him, just once as I ascend the stairs of my porch — blush darkening when his jaw tightens.

What just happened?

I curl up in my sheets, trying to bury my burning face in my pillow.  My stomach is coiling with something hot, something foreign to me —

Something that seems a lot like lust.

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