You know the drill. I don't own anything save the plot so fuck off. (kidding)

Behind Closed Doors

Part 1 of 3

You look at me as though you pitied me and even though I was raised with all the morals a devout Catholic might have, I want to hurt you. Your lips are moving, soft lips of enticing proportions, why do they still look good even though you're blatantly avoiding my direct gaze? Are you afraid of what I'll see?

Because I am.

I know what you're doing. I know what you're thinking. I know that when you consistently tug on your collar you feel stifled, or that when you constantly run your tapered fingertips along the worn out leather journal you insist on carrying around, you want to leave, or even the fact that as of the moment, you're seeking to quarrel with me to have a valid reason.

Because you can't leave me. Not quickly anyway. You feel guilty and even that I saw in those damned serious blue eyes that had to be framed by such long lashes. Why would God even allow someone as good looking as you to have the blackest heart? Why must the stain be permanent? Why couldn't I have taken it all away as I offered myself to you as though I was a form of redemption from your old life?

You're telling me right now that you're busy, that you're preoccupied with school and you can't take me out to dinner. It's my birthday today, Sebastian, have you forgotten?

The mild surprise in your eyes renders you weak for the smallest of seconds before you're back on your feet again, calm and collected as always. I would love to take that indifference from you and hurl it out the window of your room, but I can't take it from you because you don't let me. You never let anyone take it. You won't even touch me the same way you did anymore. Have I bored you now?

I don't realize I said the last thought out loud because immediately you give me a patient sigh and it angers me. You're treating me like a child and I don't like it. Your room, once a place I felt comfortable in because of its elegant sense of comfort and security, now seem like an abandoned battle zone that only held the spirits of those who braved it. Is that what your feelings are for me now? Is it just a spirit dissolving as we speak?

I love you, and I let you know. When I move to kiss you, I know like I've known and understood a million times that there's something about the way you taste that emboldens me. Do you secrete alcohol in your saliva? As crude as that may sound, it would certainly explain the reasons why I would act differently when we made love. Your mouth is moving against mine now and for a moment I allow myself to release the tension in my body as you take charge of the situation. Your arms are now wrapped around my waist and your tongue is doing delicious things to my skin, have I ever told you how talented you are with it? I can't help but let out little whimpers and encouraging groans as I feel your hands ridding me of my clothing and I try to hide the small feeling of triumph at getting you to stay with me again. My fingers are gently running through your hair, relishing in its softness the way my entire body is savoring your touch. A lover's touch. A seducer's touch. The demon's intense kisses with an angel's mouth. My golden haired Satan, the deceiver turned honest turned deceiver again. You never could make up your mind, Sebastian.

I don't care about that now, because right now I cup you in my hand and feel it pulsate, its size a familiar sight yet the emotions, the immense lust it incites in me changes each time it's inside of me. I remember that one time I kissed the leaking tip and you jerked up in shock at my action, your head shooting up and those damned half closed lids widening in surprise.

So I wanted to taste you. Does that make me impure? Did you only want me as an innocent virgin? You can't. You can't taint me and reject me.

When we were like this you sometimes murmured words in the past, mostly endearing words and adoring phrases. During our first time you asked me if I was okay and I remember the pain lesser than I remember the look on your handsome face. You made love to me and I felt it.

Right now you're just fucking me.

There are no other sounds save the pleasured grunts and groans escaping your mouth, you can't even look at me anymore. Beads of sweat are dripping down your back from our movements and I lick your neck to try to get your attention, but already you seem like you're not even there. As you fill me to the brim, the sound of skin hitting skin only fills the room when before it used to be filled with intimate laughter and soft sighs.

I know it. Yet the pleasure of the act with you surpasses my wondering mind right now and all thoughts flee my head as you bring us both closer to release, although the release I'm looking for can't be found here. In and out. In and out. A savage rhythm increasing its speed, my body is drying up and the delicious friction turns into a mild pain, but still you don't seem to notice. Your full mouth is parted and your arms are raised above me, your eyes wide shut and your breath smelling like brandy or vodka. With a few more thrusts, you finally wear yourself out and you give a groan, spilling into me while a blissful smile overcomes your face. You collapse into my arms, boneless and limp. Sated, sweaty, yet still handsome. Always will be, I suppose.

You don't talk to me but you do kiss me goodnight. I tell you I love you but you've already left reality to regain your strength. Finally, I slip my hand under yours and I join you in a place where you won't be able to push me away.

I sleep.

---

Morning now.

I open my eyes to find you coming out of the bathroom, lower body covered in a towel while that expression of absolutely nothing encompasses your face. I can sense your disinterest again, and the rejection hurts me but I smile anyway. I try not to show it. Love makes us martyrs at some point, doesn't it?

I watch you as you get dressed, lips pursed in meticulous pondering of your attire for the day. You vanity is justifiable I suppose, someone as good looking as you deserves at least that. When you were done, you gave me a small smile, the smallest that could be considered forced, but I take it anyway. Along with my virginity you've taken my heart and I want it back.

But I don't want you to give it to me fucked up.

See? You've even gotten me to curse. You're like a bad habit.

I give a loud yawn, rubbing my eyes just in time to see you place your hand on the door and this gets your attention. When I opened my eyes I see you looking at me intently, as though trying to figure me out. You're trying to wonder what happened to the resistant young woman who rejected you blatantly when you tried to pursue her.

She's gone. You've stripped her of her walls and bared her naked to your gleaming eyes. In her place was a young woman who silently prayed for things to be as they were, when you still held her as she slept and when you kissed her and meant it.

Finally, the gaze breaks and then you give me a careless shrug. You're telling me that you'll be in the living room with your stepsister and that the driver will see to it that I get home. You're not even going to have the decency to walk me to the car now? How dirty you've made me feel! How dare you? How could you or any man for that matter, woo a woman so tirelessly and make her feel loved and cherished only to discard her like an annoying piece of trash?

But I nod anyway and head for the shower, making up some excuse that I had a meeting to attend to anyway. I can tell you don't buy it because I haven't even finished talking and the door is already shut. I could have told you I was planning to kill you and you still wouldn't have listened.

Perhaps I can talk to that stepsister of yours. She seems nice, everybody speaks so highly of her. Even you do, and even though I don't know her as well as you seem to, I can tell that she would understand my plight. Cecile told me Kathryn could be trusted, that she was the one who helped Ronald and her get together. I've seen her around the campus and in your house of course, but she always seemed to be off to do something important. Charity events, parties, student council meetings… She seemed to do everything all at the same time. She seemed to be orbiting on an entirely different plane… Just like you. No wonder you both get along so well and sometimes even I wonder. Maybe if I were more like her I'd catch your interest. But how can she maintain your friendship and your attention? She's so prim and proper all the time, always with that polite smile on her pretty face, always with those green eyes warm and inviting yet it also held an air of superiority that told any person to give her the respect she deserves.

Yes… I shall have to talk to her. She'll listen to me; she'll understand that I love you and that I want to work things out no matter what.

---

Later, I walk to your location and push the door open only to see nothing out of the ordinary. You're both seated beside each other just like any normal pair of siblings would do. I don't see the physical affection but I know that you're quite close to her as she is to you. I can sense it in your face as you read your book, the indifference has been replaced by that genuine look of someone at peace with his surroundings. She's actually the same, only a bit more guarded than you are currently. Her brown hair still perfectly fixed and the layers framing her small face, she gave a sigh of annoyance when you shifted your leg and accidentally brushed it against hers, causing the magazine she was preoccupied with to shift.

"This is what I like to call quiet time." She spoke snidely; apparently that phrase incited some form of mockery because you look up and smirk.

Your eyes light up.

No… they gleam.

"That was what I like to call an accident, Kathryn. Not everything I do is meant to get your attention."

She rolled her eyes and you smiled at her, your eyes lingering on her face before you returned to your book. Finally, I let my presence be known and close the door. The sound of the knob's mechanism working causes both your heads to look up and immediately another layer of apathy settles over the both of you like water.

"Good morning." Your stepsister is the first one to greet me, smiling pleasantly. I am sure that her warmth is what I need after the coldness you're exuding right now. "Did you have a nice night?"

You turn and glare at her as though she'd said something mocking but if she did, I must have missed it. Nevertheless, she seems to understand your glare and only rewards you with an impish smile that makes her beautiful face look like it held a secret. Maybe it did.

"Yes…" I say in return, looking at you but you're still keeping quiet. You used to say a lot now you're only making noise when I get you in bed. "Kathryn, would you mind if I spoke to you alone?"

She exchanges a look with you and I could have sworn it was amusement but then it, whatever it was, became that general warmth you showed me earlier and I knew that I could trust her. As she brushes her silky brown hair back from her face, I catch a glimpse of that platinum rosary wrapped around her wrist. Her eyes are sharp in noticing this and she places a hand on your arm while she smiles at me.

"When I find that I'm in need of guidance, I turn to God and He helps me." She says this almost forlornly and I heard you scoff in derision.

"What are you laughing at, you impolite young man?" she says quite frostily and this time you turn to me before looking back at her. "Aren't you even going to acknowledge your girlfriend?"

You roll your eyes in return and she expresses her disapproval at you, looking at me with concern.

"He's just been going through a lot of things lately," she explains but I can tell that it was a fake reason and that she was only trying to make me feel better. Kathryn really is a wonderful young woman and I can hope that I become friends with her, how can someone as nice as her be friends with someone like you? How can you refrain from hurting her or seducing her? How can you refrain from tainting her? How? I should have befriended her before I met you, maybe she would have been able to teach me that insurmountable amount of control she seems to wield over her attachments.

"Sebastian, why don't you go away for a while? You heard the girl; she wants to talk to me."

"So you leave. I got here first." You answer and I try not to cry at the way you're brushing me off. Kathryn's having none of that. She quickly spies my upcoming tears and she slaps your forearm in annoyance, causing you to wince and stand up in a huff.

"Be a gentleman, big brother."

"Why? I don't see a lady anywhere."

Kathryn looks fierce for a few moments as she stares you down, and even though it wasn't directed to me I suddenly feel apprehensive of her. You don't back down from such things and it was clear that it was a silent war, a battle for power and dominance but over what?

"Now." She says this single word with a dangerous low tone and it has its desired effect.

You pick up your book and finally turn to me, finally, finally letting me know that you still could see me after all. Your face softens and for while I thought things would go back to as they were, I can see the remorse in your features and the next two words that escaped your lips causes my heart to tighten considerably.

"I'm sorry."

I can sense Kathryn watching us closely but I can only focus on you. My mouth opens but nothing comes out and you sense my lack of eloquence. Maybe to give me more time to gather my thoughts, you turn to the striking brunette and place a brotherly kiss on her forehead in a caring manner. It was the sort of offhanded affection that I would have taken over sex but I wasn't given the option, was I?

"I'll be back in five minutes." You concede, turning to close the door.