Author: Noche Buena
Title: Eloquence of the Eye
Couples: Jess, and Dean. Don't flame if you don't like slash. You have been forewarned.
Summary: Jess goes out for a moonlit stroll one night and finds a different sort of trouble.
Rating: 15 and up. Those younger than this age, do beware.
Comments: Thanks to Katie Marie, who beta-ed this story on August 16th, 2002. She cleaned it up quite nicely; you shouldn't find any spelling errors. To clear up the confusion about the title, well, eloquence is my favorite word. Please review-I always enjoy seeing what people think about my writing.
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Was never eye, did see that face,
Was never ear, did hear that tongue,
Was never mind, did mind his grace,
That ever thought the travel long--
But eyes, and ears, and ev'ry thought,
Were with his sweet perfections caught.
- Matthew Roydon
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Eloquence of the Eye
1/1
Jess had no idea how he got himself in situations.
All right, he had the slightest of an idea, he thought mildly as he inhaled the deep scent of night air and grass.
Maybe an inkling of an idea. But most of the time, he was just happened to be somewhere at the wrong place and the wrong time. He didn't ever plan to do anything wrong; things just happened to go wrong when he was there.
The fates were out to get him, that he knew. Or, he just simply had really horrible luck. No one could accuse him of being Irish, that's for sure. Especially when he was half-Italian, he mused rhapsodically.
If Luke knew what Jess happened to be doing as of right now, 10:48 PM, inhaling night air and grass, Wednesday night, his ass would be grounded down to the boiler room beneath the diner. And to think, Jess was only taking a stroll through the by-now almost-vacated town of Stars Hollow; regardless of the law stating the curfew for 18-and-unders. Of course, Jess was never one to abide by the strict confines of the law, so he was out, walking, openly DEFYING the 10:00 PM curfew.
Besides, it wasn't as though he were 12 or anything. After all, he'd be 18 in six months. Then he wouldn't be able to take his little jogs about the country. The very small, very boring and pitiful excuse for country. It just wouldn't do to be lawfully walking around at 10:01 PM when you were 18.
There were far more interesting people out at night than in the day. For one, you wouldn't ever get to see the bird lady's dark, kinky side in the day, would you? No, of course not. The pretzel-man openly threw his pretzels out in the dusky moonlight, careless of the starving children in African supported by the Christian Children's Fund. Jess was very supportive of the Christian Children's Fund. Well, if supportive was supporting the dollars in his jeans pocket, then yes, he was extremely supportive.
It was these thoughts that kept the boy up at night.
How could anybody sleep when "Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix" had no release date? They couldn't expect him to hang on forever, could they? After all, when the hell was Hermione going to get hot if J.K. Rowling would not get her damn act together and type? It was all so very perplexing.
Really, that was all he had been thinking of when he promenaded past a very dumb-looking topiary bush.
That was all he had been thinking of as he accidentally tripped on a crack, and instantly wished his mother's back would break, just for a little bit.
That was all he had been thinking of when he stopped to tie his shoelace (albeit, not for the final effect of having them tied together; it was simply for the hamstring stretch) and he happened to be on the Chicago Farm Boy's property.
He knew it was Chicago Farm Boy's property because many a-time had he not been able to go past it without accidentally knocking their mailbox over. The mailbox with the pink ducks on it. The pink ducks with the hats. Jess had apologized to the ducks profusely each time he had accidentally fell on it, his feet first.
Jess was a clumsy 17 year-old boy.
Now, the only thing Jess could not explain is how he had traversed across the immaculately green lawn, lit only by the porch sconces on the Tudor- style home, and past the dark windows (which didn't surprise him a bit), and into the backyard of the person he possibly disliked the most in this world. Jess preferred not to hate. What had possessed him to walk into Dean's backyard, he did not know, but since he was there, he might as well have a look around.
It was a very boring backyard, he noted.
There were three lights illuminating a small space of the backyard, which was confined by a pine wooden fence, complete with little gates on parallel sides of the house. Various bushes and shrubs scattered the perimeter of the fence, clinging to it as though Jess were some hideous monster out to eat their leafy greens. Or spiky greens. A swing set sat primly on the right side of the backyard, about ten feet away or so from Jess' direction. It had the sandbox, complete with sand and sand toys, underneath the swing set.
Jess took this to figure that a) Dean enjoyed the cool feeling of the metal slide, b) Dean was a dog and took his pees in the sandbox, or c) Dean had a little sister. Jess liked to think that it was the answer b, because it would explain a lot, but in the logical world, it would most likely be c.
Dean's family had a brick patio, which was immaculate and free of weeds. The patio leads up to a large sliding glass door, which was covered with some sea green colored window treatment. No chance of looking into the boring life of middle-class suburbia, thought Jess in mock reluctance. Goldang that. A Weber barbecue (TM) (not a grill, as they call it in the Midwest) stood all by its lonesome self on the patio. Maybe Dean would one day stick his head inside there, having dropped his Thomas the Train Engine Puffy Stickers down it, and then he would die a very plastick-ey death.
But that would be wrong, thought Jess, a smile playing upon his face. As was staying out past curfew, and possibly his entire life, for that matter.
Besides, his entire life wouldn't be so interesting if it were right, anyway. Whatever Jess' curiosity of Dean's house was, it needed to be sated, because Jess had far more important things to do, such as making peanut-butter sandwiches. Making peanut-butter sandwiches was extremely interesting.
Perhaps he had prejudged Dean, thought Jess.
After all, maybe sandwiches weren't all that exciting. There was a definite possibility that Dean could be making parmesan, avocado, and ham sandwiches on sourdough, and in that case, Jess was going to need to break in and steal them.
Which window was Dean's window, anyway? It wasn't as though Jess happened to stroll along Dean's house every night, carrying flowers and whispering sweet nothings to Dean's listening glass windows.
Peering about the form of the large two-story house, Jess' eyes fell on a first story window. It appeared to be the only window lit up tonight, and there was suitable access for watching a possibly very uninteresting show. Jess shrugged, and thought, why the hell should I not look in there?
He walked off the brick patio, feeling his feet squish slightly into the grass as he walked very carefully to the bright window. A couple of thigh- high evergreen bushes guarded the base of the window, which was about four feet by five feet. Jess never was one for the mathematics, so this was just a random guess.
Jess parted the bushes slowly, his slim build allowing him to slip in between the flexible branches. He crouched down upon the soil. Actually, this was kind of espionage-like. If all else failed at school, he could always be a rogue spy for the FBI. Or not, he thought. Either way, it was a good thing he was wearing old and baggy jeans, and a tight, long-sleeved black shirt. Not only did that attire some to attract women (not that Jess really noticed), it was also useful for getting into tight spaces and camouflaging himself at night.
He pressed himself up against the white siding of the back of Dean's house, and slowly brought his head up to spy through the window. After all, Farm Boy's family might actually have something worth stealing.
What he happened to see then was something you could really only steal in your mind.
Jess could see through the space in the hanging curtains, and what he did see happened to be...a definite point of interest, not that he hadn't seen it before.
What he did see was an empty room. Yes, Jess had a fascination for other people's living areas.
An obviously very male living area. There was a double bed facing its side to Jess on the right side of the room, which was painted a mellow color of white, as were all the other walls. The bed was covered with deep green and blue flannel plaid, again, a very obvious male choice of duvet covers. Several thousand pillows were strewn on the hastily made bed, which faced a desk that didn't really seem to be used all that much, only if you considered it a studying area.
It seemed to house an abundance of dirty socks and shirts, all piled up upon each other.
A set of dresser drawers faced its front to the bed at the back wall, a pine color to match the bed and the desk. Other than the bed, desk, and dresser drawers, there was a small and soft-looking blue fauteuil upon which, Jess suspected, one could make out with literary fanatics with pretty blue eyes and shiny long brown hair.
He shook his head to rid himself of that thought.
Jess sighed, and leaned his back against the house. He was an absolutely pathetic use of a man-boy. Walking around town at 10:41-nope, now it was 10:55 at night, when he could be with absolutely any girl in Stars Hollow but one, having mad and frantic make-out sessions and a bag of chips against a wall somewhere.
Sickening.
Fuck, if only he had his cigarettes with him now, Luke had thrown all of them in the lake. And he had warned everybody in town to alert him if his nephew happened to be smoking, which was bad enough, because that meant that he was going to be treated like a child until he graduated, and God knew how long that would take if he didn't have his cigarettes to calm him down. What a fun little circle that would be, Jess mused.
"I wonder if I should go back," he thought for a moment, feeling his head start to clear out from the fresh night air, and probably the lack of cigarettes. "Squaw Luke's probably started out to look for me by now."
His plans were dashed when he heard an abrupt noise coming from the inside of the room.
The window had been open just a crack when Jess had slipped through the bushes. He turned around slowly on his heels, and looked inside the boy- room once more, very much hoping that whomever was in there wouldn't catch him. It was a lot more fun to sneak around without a chaperone ready and waiting to take you back to your uncle, who would ground you until you were dead.
Without a surprise, Jess found the person inside to be a very wet and half- naked Dean, who had obviously just, came out of a hot shower...Dean had a smooth white towel draped easily around the toned circumference of his hips, conforming easily to the bends of his equally toned body.
The tall boy took a large hand and raked it through the wetness of his hair, darkened by the spray of water. His hair curled a little in the back from all the humidity. Glistening drops of water were stuck to his long eyelashes, which were fanned across the tops of his flushed cheeks like inky strokes of ebony. A sigh escaped Dean's rosy lips and Jess found himself straining to hear anything and everything in the small room before him.
Jess didn't know how, or why he couldn't move from his infiltrative spot in the boy's backyard. He was absolutely fixated. In fact, he could've sworn he had stepped in some cement on his way to finding a naked boy in the supposed privacy of his own bedroom.
Jess tried to will his darkening eyes away from the dusky and hardened circles of Dean's-Dean's. Oh, goddamit, nipples...he couldn't believe he was staring at a boy's nipples, of all body parts. Now, Jess was very sure that he wasn't attracted to boys. He was so very sure that he could admit if certain boys were handsome. But he had never, ever thought of a boy in a sexual way. Possibly, it was the wrongness of the situation.
Yes, it was very wrong, all with the forbidden fruit and against the moral codes to society, which was even more attractive to Jess...breaking moral codes and his own views, which was especially and deliciously enticing.
Jess felt his face heat up at the thought of being a little bit on the gay side. After all, he wasn't...attracted to boys, he tried to reason in his mind, which was a bit fuzzy because Dean's tight abdominal muscles were not making this any easier. And the thought that Jess actually envied the shower's ability to touch each and every part of Dean... well, that was also, just a little bit wrong in his head.
"Has this entire night just been full of wrongs?" he thought, wonderingly.
Really, he had think about it. Breaking the city's curfew, breaking Luke's laws, trespassing on private property, and now, absolute and total voyeurism of a boy he definitely was not attracted to and definitely did not want to kiss and rub and touch until they both came with a heady shout, and a boy whose girlfriend he liked so very much.
Yep. This entire night happened to be full of wrongs. Like it was so wrong that Dean's calves were so strong looking. Damn the boy for making him think of strong calf muscles. Jess touched his face, knowing he was blushing like a country maiden. He knew that other, lower parts of him were probably blushing with the same blood heating up his face.
Jess tried to relax a bit, and think of Miss Patty in a silk negligee.
He shuddered. That was possibly the most disgusting thought, ever. Yet, it did nothing to ease the desire, and he knew that if Dean didn't go away, right now, Jess would start trembling and he'd have to reach down and stroke and stroke and stroke until the desire would go away. And if Dean would come back, the desire would come back. And no stroking of Jess' would make the painful hardness in his trousers leave.
It was as though Dean were purposely walking around in just a towel like some goddamned Grecian, almost seductively dropping the dirty clothes on the desk with a careless and muscular arm. Jess had to wonder what had brought upon all these new, hungry, and gasping sparks of pure need. Of course, a slick and practically clothesless Dean hadn't ever brought himself into Jess' viewpoint.
Well, a completely naked Dean had, before. But everybody knew not to ever look at any other guy in the shower at gym, fully, and the only time that Jess had actually gone to his "physical education" class, he had refused to take a shower (he wasn't dirty or sweaty, because of his lack of enthusiasm to run around and catch a large leather ball of air).
He had, by accident, walked into the wrong part of the locker room (he wasn't ever there to make a complete tour of it)-which was the shower room. And he had briefly caught a snatch of what he believed to be Dean, but Jess hadn't ever really thought about it, until now.
Jess looked into the window again, because all the self-restraint in the whole world was not helping him right now. He held his breath, his eyes widening. His throat had gone inexplicably dry. Jess found himself grasping for something to steady himself, so he gripped the edge of the windowsill, his knuckles whitening.
Kneeling on the dirt for a more comfortable spectator view, he watched as the towel began slipping down ever so slowly. Jess didn't know whether to anticipate the dropping, or hope with all the strength he could muster up that Dean would pull the damn thing up his slender body and cover it so that nobody but Jess would ever see him like this, ever again.
"Have I gone completely insane? Oh, nifty, another option. Great. Either I'm gay, or I'm insane, or I have a now-insatiable attraction to a boy named Dean."
Jess contemplated the many roads he could walk, and then opted for "undecided, possibly temporarily bisexual."
Observing the purely masculine form in front of him (who was now innocently hanging up some clothes in his walk-in closet which was barely visible from Jess' viewpoint), he wondered how he could be the only boy thinking these thoughts.
Good God, that Dean had something definitely going for him. At least, what he could sort of see from the backside.
Jess was very conscious of the fact that his dark hair was probably visible through the gap in the curtains. He tried to push it down with one slightly shaking hand, but the extra-strength mousse did nothing to keep it down. Just as thinking of Miss Patty in bed clothing did nothing to keep something much more hard and trembling in his pants.
He sighed as loudly as he could under the circumstances. If he were to go back home (he definitely wasn't going to now after he discovered the many wonders of a young and nubile male body), he'd have to think up some sort of excuse if Luke were up. His uncle wouldn't believe any excuse he gave anyway, so he could at least preserve his dignity as a non-voyeuristic, non- involved nothing rather than "The Creepy Boy Who Watched Naked Boys Walk Around in Towels!" which could become his nickname in town forever if he were to be discovered.
Heh. Jess wondered what Luke's expression would be if he told him he had had mad gay sex, and that's why he came in late, so sorry about that. He grinned.
However, Jess' thoughts melted away when Dean came back in the room, and he was reminded of why he was thinking of mad gay sex.
Not that he really knew how to go about it, but he had a little indication of it because of his teenage hood in New York. It was full of gay shops proudly announcing their new arrival of naughty word-rings.
"Ugh. Mad gay sex with Dean. Stop it, you idiotic fool," he scolded himself, for a try. He felt nothing. Jess wasn't so good at self-criticism.
So Jess went back to the obvious and blatant staring. Those naughty teenage hormones had finally kicked in. Perhaps that was why he hadn't wanted to push Dean down on his bed and have his mischievous way with him before.
And hey! Look who was literally coming out of the closet, gloriously clothed in only navy blue pajama pants that tied by a drawstring around the waist! Jess truly felt the need to suppress a mad giggle. He seriously felt like some 14 year old girl, sneaking around a boy's house to watch him naked.
"Wait, what am I thinking?" thought Jess. "I might as well be a 14 year old girl. Watching naked Dean. Glisteny pretty Dean with the tight...rounded...ass. And the pretty abs with the ridges of muscles."
Jess looked sideways for a better view, and grinned. Yep.
After a moment, Jess began to get very fidgety. It was hard in this position, on your knees, when there wasn't a thing you could do to relieve yourself from the pressing thing in your pants. And why the hell didn't Dean turn off the light so Jess could go back to the diner and stop contemplating to go in there and kiss Dean, full on the lips.
"Fuck this," whispered Jess, and opened the window. Dean spun around from his position near the bed, an extremely startled expression on his face. Jess hopped up from his spot in the dirt easily, pushing himself on the window ledge. He jumped off from the ledge and landed in the room that had laid the scene for Mr. Pure Walking Sex for the past 15 minutes.
"What the hell are you doing here?" growled Dean with blue eyes flashing, who stood, shocked, in the same place he had been before Jess had come in. Jess had a suspicion that Dean badly wanted to push him out the window, but he didn't care. Far too excited.
"You know, it sounded a lot better in my head, so maybe I better not tell you," said Jess, with a very simple stance.
"You...you were watching me? That's against the law, Mariano. I'm calling the police and getting you the fuck out of this town," said Dean, practically shaking with rage. His face was flushed a bright red, and the muscles in his arm tensed up, his fists balling up. Dean's soft-looking hair fell in his face, and he pushed it out of his way. More muscles tensed up in his stomach.
Jess saw the violated look in Dean's eyes, and felt a little bad, but didn't break his dark gaze from the blue eyes glaring at him. But Jess noticed that Dean wasn't reaching for the phone lying there so innocently on his desk.
"I wanted to talk to you," Jess said, oh-so-smoothly, letting the words slide off his tongue like satin.
"You know what I want to do?"
"Does it involve peeled grapes and blindfolds?"
"Funny. No. I really want to hit you."
"So? Then do it," shrugged Jess, who knew Dean wouldn't do it.
Suddenly, a fist came flying by his face and Jess felt an intense, stinging pain in his left cheek. He gasped for some air, and touched his cheek. Jess felt a giant surge of adrenaline come to merge with his blood, and he felt himself stiffen again, and cursed his libido for thinking that way. He was supposed to want to hit Dean now, not rub himself frantically against him. He set his jaw straight, and glared at Dean with what he hoped was a steely gaze.
"Didn't even FEEL that," menaced Jess sweetly, and harshly gripped Dean's bare shoulders and pushed him backwards, and enjoyed the feeling of the other boy stumbling. He couldn't believe good-boy Dean had punched him. He knew he wasn't bleeding, but God, that hurt. He noticed that both of them had taken care to speak very low, as to not disturb the rest of the family, who would call the police, obviously.
"Who do you think you are, Jess? You're pathetic," sneered Dean, who had regained his composure.
"No, actually, I believe that would be you." Jess was intoxicated with the feeling of arousal and anger, and he was very unsure of where to go next.
Hit Dean, kiss Dean, hit Dean, kiss Dean. Dean took his chance to push Jess down on the soft carpeting, trying as he could to hurt him. The strength of Dean's push knocked them both down on the ground, and Dean lay sprawled provocatively over Jess, whose wind was knocked out of him. Jess gasped for air, and grappled with Dean as they both tried to maintain the upper hand. Dean seemed dazed after Jess hit him, hard in the face, but managed to grip Jess' arms to the floor with those big hands of his.
Jess struggled to get up, but only succeeded in bucking his hips against Dean's.
Dean took a breath of air, and looked down at Jess with more surprise than he'd ever shown that night. Even more so than when Jess hopped through the window. Jess took Dean's surprise to his advantage, and rolled them over until Dean was flush against his body, the heat pressing through Jess' thin shirt.
"Get off me," snarled Dean, who looked absolutely helpless with his wide blue eyes dilating to dark in the dim light of his room. Jess took one quick glance at him, and pressed his hips harder against Dean, grinding slowly.
"Feel that?" he whispered, so quietly that only Dean would ever hear. "You know you can..." Jess was breathless. Dean shoved Jess' shoulders backward, but Jess straddled Dean's naked torso and grasped the other boy's arms so he couldn't make any sudden movements. Dean refused to look at Jess, and threw his head to his side, a sudden flush coming over his face. He knew he was a little heavy on Dean, so he shifted slightly, breathing loudly, very impressed with the outcome. So heady he was with his own success of topping Dean that he slunk down closer on top of him, his own dark eyes gazing powerfully into Dean's dusky and anger-inflamed ones. He could feel Dean's heart pounding madly, the unbearable heat of his body pouring into his own.
"Get off. Now."
This time Dean said it, it was much more quiet.
"Okay."
Unbelievably, Jess rolled off Dean's body, instantly missing the heat of the other boy. Dean got up quickly, burning cheeks and all. No notice of arousal that Jess could see, and he was a little disappointed because that encounter had certainly done even more for him.
"Please, just go," said Dean placidly. He wouldn't meet Jess' eyes, and looked very embarrassed to be pushed down by someone smaller than him. And it looked as though Dean had remembered what Jess had pressed so hard into the lowest part of his abdomen. What had been the most shocking part of all? His arms hung down past that slim waist of his, and he was staring very hard at the window. His eyes screwed shut and he looked like he was trying very hard to forget all about it.
Jess had to give him credit for trying.
Jess blinked in his aroused state, his lips apart and short breaths coming out of his mouth. Then, some curse words fell out of that mouth, followed by a "Screw this." "I don't care what you think of me. Anybody thinks," he added hoarsely, and firmly walked up to the quiet boy, grabbed the soft back of his neck, and smashed Dean's lips to his.
God, it was so much better than he'd thought it would be.
He thought he knew the craving of another person, the painful desire that would arise whenever you walked by them. It was nothing at all compared to the boiling heat and hard, dizzy excitement that Jess felt. Dean protested, weakly pushing his hands at Jess' shoulders. Jess kissed him more desperately now, needing to have that faint sweetness of Dean's lips, needing those lips to part so he could suck the sweeter tongue in his mouth and make them both hard and gasping for air.
Dean's hands were trembling, and Jess noticed, as he coaxed Dean's lips to open for him. He took his free hand, and wrapped it around Dean's hand, which instantly gripped Jess' hand tightly before releasing it and starting to tremble again. Jess angled his head so he could have a more comfortable go at seducing Dean's mouth, which was trying to not have any part at all of this. However, Jess was determined to get some sort of reaction, because he was throbbing firm and he was just so hot all over. Dean struggled to move again, this time more faintly, and gave in, opening his mouth to rake in some air, while Jess inwardly grinned and invaded Dean's mouth with one quick wet thrust forward. He thought he would faint from the sheer excitement of it all. There were too many instincts going on in his mind. For one, the thought of getting off with Dean, of all people, made his entire body flush and press against Dean's once more. The feeling of his bare and muscled chest against Jess' clothed one was very distracting...until Jess felt Dean's tongue start to move against his.
Well, you could've knocked Jess out with a feather. Suddenly, Dean's lips were crashing passionately against his, and Jess was being pushed up, hard, against a bedroom wall and he found that he didn't care that his head had hit the wall, because Dean had thrown one of those strong arms around his shoulders and was tightly gripping his shoulder with the other one.
Dean's mouth was succulently hot, he knew, because his tongue had taken to battling with Dean's it was so velvety and.wet....
And there it was...Dean's erection pressed firmly, just a tiny bit above his own, rubbing so tightly and nicely against the throbbing his jeans. Jess sighed quietly, barely registering when Dean slipped a long leg between his own and when he unconsciously started massaging himself against it. Jess slid his hand up to Dean's face, caressing the soft skin, so smooth under his just-calloused hand.
Jess noticed that when Dean had given into kissing him back, he had done so with a rapt amount of passion...and still had done so, but now with a softer pressure, only with more frenzy and his chest pushing up against Jess' because of the lack of air. However, Jess thought that the lack of air only made it better...more desperate. He was sure that if he opened his eyes right now, he would find Dean with glistening, swollen lips and dark eyes of black, wet ink...and the mussed hair.
Oh, God, that just made him more turned on and he couldn't help it that he was practically grinding against Dean's leg. And Dean couldn't help grinding, either, he noticed...Jess felt dizzy, so dizzy. It was all so suffocating and intoxicating...making out with someone...you hated. Jess choked back a low moan, and slid his tongue back in Dean's mouth forcefully, gripping the back of his neck with a shaking hand once again. He felt sparks of exhilaration and joy, and a little bit of revolt...but that was pushed back when Dean's large hand slipped down to rub Jess in the best spot he could ever rub him.
"Holy...fuck," choked Jess, once he had pulled Dean's head back from his, his eyes dilating to black and harder than he'd ever been in his life...his throat raw, everything in his body strung so high he thought he would collapse, right then and there. He panted in hard and short breaths, shivers shooting up and down his back with manic speed and shaking a little when Dean pressed a little more. Jess couldn't.he couldn't believe that Dean was.God, he was touching him, touching him there.
"I'm sorry..." murmured Dean against Jess' damp neck, the only thing he said after he had responded to Jess' encouraging mouth. "Should I...do you want to stop?" he asked Jess tentatively, slowing his hand and just softly cupping Jess' bulge in his pants.
"I think..." breathed Jess, looking up at the ceiling with glossy wide eyes half shut, not being able to focus at all. Had.Dean just done that? "I think I should be asking you that question..."
"No.I don't...I don't want to. Stop, that is," said Dean quietly, a flitter of emotion passing through his eyes.
"You...don't have to. Just because I...kissed you...started...all this," said Jess brokenly, his voice deepened by his heightened state of dazed and confused excitement, blearily wondering if this all real at all. When he felt Dean gently smooth a hand over his cheeks, he clearly realized that he wasn't the only one feeling like this. There was another person in the world who felt exactly the same things he was feeling, and all at the same time. Such an unexpected connection with the person he thought he wouldn't ever connect to. Something so wrong that could turn out so interesting. Such an unexpected wonder to see someone who...wasn't tossing him away like some used piece of garbage. Someone who had the faint traces of stubble and all the hard edges and muscle, and still felt...soft to the touch. It was a different thing for Jess. He realized that he liked it. A lot.
Jess' hand was still curved around the sloping grace of Dean's neck, and his other hand grasping tightly at the start of Dean's pajamas on his right side. Dean's hands slid slowly around Jess' neck, until they were almost both nose to nose, and eye to eye. Jess swallowed evenly, cocking his head to look at Dean, straight in the face. They both had the same expression on their face...the one of need...for the other. Jess was shocked at the veritable intimacy in this position, both of them suffused against each other warmly as though they had known each other like this for years. He wondered if it was Dean being so close to him making his knees tremble ever so slightly, or if it was that determined glance in Dean's eyes, so close to him. He felt vulnerable, for once in his life.
It was so strange to have a man pressed up against him, staring at him in the face like he were the last drop of water on earth. Like some sort of mantra.
The two were breathing heavily, inebriated with the sensation of being completely inflamed with yearning and a deep sense of thrill of having fully kissed a boy.
"So," whispered Jess, brushing his own cheek against Dean's in a suggestive manner. "I know you don't like boys and all, but would you mind it badly if I kissed you again?"
Dean looked at him contemptuously for a moment. "I don't like boys," he said.
"Me either," replied Jess.
"You don't? But you just totally jumped me a while ago."
"I don't like boys. I like you," whispered Jess hotly in Dean's air, and he grinned when he felt the tall boy tremble just the smallest bit. "Well, I like that hard thing of yours pressing against my leg, anyway."
Dean took in a deep breath of air. "Fine with me," he whispered back, with the coyest of smiles on his face.
"As long as you don't punch me again," said Jess.
"Hey. You intruded on me, remember."
"I remember," smiled Jess.
Blood surged to Jess' groin, Dean feeling it, flush against him, Jess feeling it even more. Jess looked up at Dean, a very intense look on his face. "Could you...put your hand back down..." he gasped, just as Dean leaned down to start kissing Jess' neck, very faintly, before the full-on sucking made Jess buck into Dean's conforming hand.
"Oh, yes..." Jess whispered hoarsely, and took to licking the length of Dean's neck, completely breathless again.
"You know...then again, maybe things aren't so wrong," mused Jess as he licked a broad swathe down Dean's neck, very much enjoying the small appreciative noise he made when he did so. Then Dean pressed against him as he was being rubbed, ever so nicely, and he was reminded of something.
"Maybe some things are," he corrected himself, before sealing his mouth over Dean's, and finally having his way...
finit
Title: Eloquence of the Eye
Couples: Jess, and Dean. Don't flame if you don't like slash. You have been forewarned.
Summary: Jess goes out for a moonlit stroll one night and finds a different sort of trouble.
Rating: 15 and up. Those younger than this age, do beware.
Comments: Thanks to Katie Marie, who beta-ed this story on August 16th, 2002. She cleaned it up quite nicely; you shouldn't find any spelling errors. To clear up the confusion about the title, well, eloquence is my favorite word. Please review-I always enjoy seeing what people think about my writing.
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Was never eye, did see that face,
Was never ear, did hear that tongue,
Was never mind, did mind his grace,
That ever thought the travel long--
But eyes, and ears, and ev'ry thought,
Were with his sweet perfections caught.
- Matthew Roydon
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Eloquence of the Eye
1/1
Jess had no idea how he got himself in situations.
All right, he had the slightest of an idea, he thought mildly as he inhaled the deep scent of night air and grass.
Maybe an inkling of an idea. But most of the time, he was just happened to be somewhere at the wrong place and the wrong time. He didn't ever plan to do anything wrong; things just happened to go wrong when he was there.
The fates were out to get him, that he knew. Or, he just simply had really horrible luck. No one could accuse him of being Irish, that's for sure. Especially when he was half-Italian, he mused rhapsodically.
If Luke knew what Jess happened to be doing as of right now, 10:48 PM, inhaling night air and grass, Wednesday night, his ass would be grounded down to the boiler room beneath the diner. And to think, Jess was only taking a stroll through the by-now almost-vacated town of Stars Hollow; regardless of the law stating the curfew for 18-and-unders. Of course, Jess was never one to abide by the strict confines of the law, so he was out, walking, openly DEFYING the 10:00 PM curfew.
Besides, it wasn't as though he were 12 or anything. After all, he'd be 18 in six months. Then he wouldn't be able to take his little jogs about the country. The very small, very boring and pitiful excuse for country. It just wouldn't do to be lawfully walking around at 10:01 PM when you were 18.
There were far more interesting people out at night than in the day. For one, you wouldn't ever get to see the bird lady's dark, kinky side in the day, would you? No, of course not. The pretzel-man openly threw his pretzels out in the dusky moonlight, careless of the starving children in African supported by the Christian Children's Fund. Jess was very supportive of the Christian Children's Fund. Well, if supportive was supporting the dollars in his jeans pocket, then yes, he was extremely supportive.
It was these thoughts that kept the boy up at night.
How could anybody sleep when "Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix" had no release date? They couldn't expect him to hang on forever, could they? After all, when the hell was Hermione going to get hot if J.K. Rowling would not get her damn act together and type? It was all so very perplexing.
Really, that was all he had been thinking of when he promenaded past a very dumb-looking topiary bush.
That was all he had been thinking of as he accidentally tripped on a crack, and instantly wished his mother's back would break, just for a little bit.
That was all he had been thinking of when he stopped to tie his shoelace (albeit, not for the final effect of having them tied together; it was simply for the hamstring stretch) and he happened to be on the Chicago Farm Boy's property.
He knew it was Chicago Farm Boy's property because many a-time had he not been able to go past it without accidentally knocking their mailbox over. The mailbox with the pink ducks on it. The pink ducks with the hats. Jess had apologized to the ducks profusely each time he had accidentally fell on it, his feet first.
Jess was a clumsy 17 year-old boy.
Now, the only thing Jess could not explain is how he had traversed across the immaculately green lawn, lit only by the porch sconces on the Tudor- style home, and past the dark windows (which didn't surprise him a bit), and into the backyard of the person he possibly disliked the most in this world. Jess preferred not to hate. What had possessed him to walk into Dean's backyard, he did not know, but since he was there, he might as well have a look around.
It was a very boring backyard, he noted.
There were three lights illuminating a small space of the backyard, which was confined by a pine wooden fence, complete with little gates on parallel sides of the house. Various bushes and shrubs scattered the perimeter of the fence, clinging to it as though Jess were some hideous monster out to eat their leafy greens. Or spiky greens. A swing set sat primly on the right side of the backyard, about ten feet away or so from Jess' direction. It had the sandbox, complete with sand and sand toys, underneath the swing set.
Jess took this to figure that a) Dean enjoyed the cool feeling of the metal slide, b) Dean was a dog and took his pees in the sandbox, or c) Dean had a little sister. Jess liked to think that it was the answer b, because it would explain a lot, but in the logical world, it would most likely be c.
Dean's family had a brick patio, which was immaculate and free of weeds. The patio leads up to a large sliding glass door, which was covered with some sea green colored window treatment. No chance of looking into the boring life of middle-class suburbia, thought Jess in mock reluctance. Goldang that. A Weber barbecue (TM) (not a grill, as they call it in the Midwest) stood all by its lonesome self on the patio. Maybe Dean would one day stick his head inside there, having dropped his Thomas the Train Engine Puffy Stickers down it, and then he would die a very plastick-ey death.
But that would be wrong, thought Jess, a smile playing upon his face. As was staying out past curfew, and possibly his entire life, for that matter.
Besides, his entire life wouldn't be so interesting if it were right, anyway. Whatever Jess' curiosity of Dean's house was, it needed to be sated, because Jess had far more important things to do, such as making peanut-butter sandwiches. Making peanut-butter sandwiches was extremely interesting.
Perhaps he had prejudged Dean, thought Jess.
After all, maybe sandwiches weren't all that exciting. There was a definite possibility that Dean could be making parmesan, avocado, and ham sandwiches on sourdough, and in that case, Jess was going to need to break in and steal them.
Which window was Dean's window, anyway? It wasn't as though Jess happened to stroll along Dean's house every night, carrying flowers and whispering sweet nothings to Dean's listening glass windows.
Peering about the form of the large two-story house, Jess' eyes fell on a first story window. It appeared to be the only window lit up tonight, and there was suitable access for watching a possibly very uninteresting show. Jess shrugged, and thought, why the hell should I not look in there?
He walked off the brick patio, feeling his feet squish slightly into the grass as he walked very carefully to the bright window. A couple of thigh- high evergreen bushes guarded the base of the window, which was about four feet by five feet. Jess never was one for the mathematics, so this was just a random guess.
Jess parted the bushes slowly, his slim build allowing him to slip in between the flexible branches. He crouched down upon the soil. Actually, this was kind of espionage-like. If all else failed at school, he could always be a rogue spy for the FBI. Or not, he thought. Either way, it was a good thing he was wearing old and baggy jeans, and a tight, long-sleeved black shirt. Not only did that attire some to attract women (not that Jess really noticed), it was also useful for getting into tight spaces and camouflaging himself at night.
He pressed himself up against the white siding of the back of Dean's house, and slowly brought his head up to spy through the window. After all, Farm Boy's family might actually have something worth stealing.
What he happened to see then was something you could really only steal in your mind.
Jess could see through the space in the hanging curtains, and what he did see happened to be...a definite point of interest, not that he hadn't seen it before.
What he did see was an empty room. Yes, Jess had a fascination for other people's living areas.
An obviously very male living area. There was a double bed facing its side to Jess on the right side of the room, which was painted a mellow color of white, as were all the other walls. The bed was covered with deep green and blue flannel plaid, again, a very obvious male choice of duvet covers. Several thousand pillows were strewn on the hastily made bed, which faced a desk that didn't really seem to be used all that much, only if you considered it a studying area.
It seemed to house an abundance of dirty socks and shirts, all piled up upon each other.
A set of dresser drawers faced its front to the bed at the back wall, a pine color to match the bed and the desk. Other than the bed, desk, and dresser drawers, there was a small and soft-looking blue fauteuil upon which, Jess suspected, one could make out with literary fanatics with pretty blue eyes and shiny long brown hair.
He shook his head to rid himself of that thought.
Jess sighed, and leaned his back against the house. He was an absolutely pathetic use of a man-boy. Walking around town at 10:41-nope, now it was 10:55 at night, when he could be with absolutely any girl in Stars Hollow but one, having mad and frantic make-out sessions and a bag of chips against a wall somewhere.
Sickening.
Fuck, if only he had his cigarettes with him now, Luke had thrown all of them in the lake. And he had warned everybody in town to alert him if his nephew happened to be smoking, which was bad enough, because that meant that he was going to be treated like a child until he graduated, and God knew how long that would take if he didn't have his cigarettes to calm him down. What a fun little circle that would be, Jess mused.
"I wonder if I should go back," he thought for a moment, feeling his head start to clear out from the fresh night air, and probably the lack of cigarettes. "Squaw Luke's probably started out to look for me by now."
His plans were dashed when he heard an abrupt noise coming from the inside of the room.
The window had been open just a crack when Jess had slipped through the bushes. He turned around slowly on his heels, and looked inside the boy- room once more, very much hoping that whomever was in there wouldn't catch him. It was a lot more fun to sneak around without a chaperone ready and waiting to take you back to your uncle, who would ground you until you were dead.
Without a surprise, Jess found the person inside to be a very wet and half- naked Dean, who had obviously just, came out of a hot shower...Dean had a smooth white towel draped easily around the toned circumference of his hips, conforming easily to the bends of his equally toned body.
The tall boy took a large hand and raked it through the wetness of his hair, darkened by the spray of water. His hair curled a little in the back from all the humidity. Glistening drops of water were stuck to his long eyelashes, which were fanned across the tops of his flushed cheeks like inky strokes of ebony. A sigh escaped Dean's rosy lips and Jess found himself straining to hear anything and everything in the small room before him.
Jess didn't know how, or why he couldn't move from his infiltrative spot in the boy's backyard. He was absolutely fixated. In fact, he could've sworn he had stepped in some cement on his way to finding a naked boy in the supposed privacy of his own bedroom.
Jess tried to will his darkening eyes away from the dusky and hardened circles of Dean's-Dean's. Oh, goddamit, nipples...he couldn't believe he was staring at a boy's nipples, of all body parts. Now, Jess was very sure that he wasn't attracted to boys. He was so very sure that he could admit if certain boys were handsome. But he had never, ever thought of a boy in a sexual way. Possibly, it was the wrongness of the situation.
Yes, it was very wrong, all with the forbidden fruit and against the moral codes to society, which was even more attractive to Jess...breaking moral codes and his own views, which was especially and deliciously enticing.
Jess felt his face heat up at the thought of being a little bit on the gay side. After all, he wasn't...attracted to boys, he tried to reason in his mind, which was a bit fuzzy because Dean's tight abdominal muscles were not making this any easier. And the thought that Jess actually envied the shower's ability to touch each and every part of Dean... well, that was also, just a little bit wrong in his head.
"Has this entire night just been full of wrongs?" he thought, wonderingly.
Really, he had think about it. Breaking the city's curfew, breaking Luke's laws, trespassing on private property, and now, absolute and total voyeurism of a boy he definitely was not attracted to and definitely did not want to kiss and rub and touch until they both came with a heady shout, and a boy whose girlfriend he liked so very much.
Yep. This entire night happened to be full of wrongs. Like it was so wrong that Dean's calves were so strong looking. Damn the boy for making him think of strong calf muscles. Jess touched his face, knowing he was blushing like a country maiden. He knew that other, lower parts of him were probably blushing with the same blood heating up his face.
Jess tried to relax a bit, and think of Miss Patty in a silk negligee.
He shuddered. That was possibly the most disgusting thought, ever. Yet, it did nothing to ease the desire, and he knew that if Dean didn't go away, right now, Jess would start trembling and he'd have to reach down and stroke and stroke and stroke until the desire would go away. And if Dean would come back, the desire would come back. And no stroking of Jess' would make the painful hardness in his trousers leave.
It was as though Dean were purposely walking around in just a towel like some goddamned Grecian, almost seductively dropping the dirty clothes on the desk with a careless and muscular arm. Jess had to wonder what had brought upon all these new, hungry, and gasping sparks of pure need. Of course, a slick and practically clothesless Dean hadn't ever brought himself into Jess' viewpoint.
Well, a completely naked Dean had, before. But everybody knew not to ever look at any other guy in the shower at gym, fully, and the only time that Jess had actually gone to his "physical education" class, he had refused to take a shower (he wasn't dirty or sweaty, because of his lack of enthusiasm to run around and catch a large leather ball of air).
He had, by accident, walked into the wrong part of the locker room (he wasn't ever there to make a complete tour of it)-which was the shower room. And he had briefly caught a snatch of what he believed to be Dean, but Jess hadn't ever really thought about it, until now.
Jess looked into the window again, because all the self-restraint in the whole world was not helping him right now. He held his breath, his eyes widening. His throat had gone inexplicably dry. Jess found himself grasping for something to steady himself, so he gripped the edge of the windowsill, his knuckles whitening.
Kneeling on the dirt for a more comfortable spectator view, he watched as the towel began slipping down ever so slowly. Jess didn't know whether to anticipate the dropping, or hope with all the strength he could muster up that Dean would pull the damn thing up his slender body and cover it so that nobody but Jess would ever see him like this, ever again.
"Have I gone completely insane? Oh, nifty, another option. Great. Either I'm gay, or I'm insane, or I have a now-insatiable attraction to a boy named Dean."
Jess contemplated the many roads he could walk, and then opted for "undecided, possibly temporarily bisexual."
Observing the purely masculine form in front of him (who was now innocently hanging up some clothes in his walk-in closet which was barely visible from Jess' viewpoint), he wondered how he could be the only boy thinking these thoughts.
Good God, that Dean had something definitely going for him. At least, what he could sort of see from the backside.
Jess was very conscious of the fact that his dark hair was probably visible through the gap in the curtains. He tried to push it down with one slightly shaking hand, but the extra-strength mousse did nothing to keep it down. Just as thinking of Miss Patty in bed clothing did nothing to keep something much more hard and trembling in his pants.
He sighed as loudly as he could under the circumstances. If he were to go back home (he definitely wasn't going to now after he discovered the many wonders of a young and nubile male body), he'd have to think up some sort of excuse if Luke were up. His uncle wouldn't believe any excuse he gave anyway, so he could at least preserve his dignity as a non-voyeuristic, non- involved nothing rather than "The Creepy Boy Who Watched Naked Boys Walk Around in Towels!" which could become his nickname in town forever if he were to be discovered.
Heh. Jess wondered what Luke's expression would be if he told him he had had mad gay sex, and that's why he came in late, so sorry about that. He grinned.
However, Jess' thoughts melted away when Dean came back in the room, and he was reminded of why he was thinking of mad gay sex.
Not that he really knew how to go about it, but he had a little indication of it because of his teenage hood in New York. It was full of gay shops proudly announcing their new arrival of naughty word-rings.
"Ugh. Mad gay sex with Dean. Stop it, you idiotic fool," he scolded himself, for a try. He felt nothing. Jess wasn't so good at self-criticism.
So Jess went back to the obvious and blatant staring. Those naughty teenage hormones had finally kicked in. Perhaps that was why he hadn't wanted to push Dean down on his bed and have his mischievous way with him before.
And hey! Look who was literally coming out of the closet, gloriously clothed in only navy blue pajama pants that tied by a drawstring around the waist! Jess truly felt the need to suppress a mad giggle. He seriously felt like some 14 year old girl, sneaking around a boy's house to watch him naked.
"Wait, what am I thinking?" thought Jess. "I might as well be a 14 year old girl. Watching naked Dean. Glisteny pretty Dean with the tight...rounded...ass. And the pretty abs with the ridges of muscles."
Jess looked sideways for a better view, and grinned. Yep.
After a moment, Jess began to get very fidgety. It was hard in this position, on your knees, when there wasn't a thing you could do to relieve yourself from the pressing thing in your pants. And why the hell didn't Dean turn off the light so Jess could go back to the diner and stop contemplating to go in there and kiss Dean, full on the lips.
"Fuck this," whispered Jess, and opened the window. Dean spun around from his position near the bed, an extremely startled expression on his face. Jess hopped up from his spot in the dirt easily, pushing himself on the window ledge. He jumped off from the ledge and landed in the room that had laid the scene for Mr. Pure Walking Sex for the past 15 minutes.
"What the hell are you doing here?" growled Dean with blue eyes flashing, who stood, shocked, in the same place he had been before Jess had come in. Jess had a suspicion that Dean badly wanted to push him out the window, but he didn't care. Far too excited.
"You know, it sounded a lot better in my head, so maybe I better not tell you," said Jess, with a very simple stance.
"You...you were watching me? That's against the law, Mariano. I'm calling the police and getting you the fuck out of this town," said Dean, practically shaking with rage. His face was flushed a bright red, and the muscles in his arm tensed up, his fists balling up. Dean's soft-looking hair fell in his face, and he pushed it out of his way. More muscles tensed up in his stomach.
Jess saw the violated look in Dean's eyes, and felt a little bad, but didn't break his dark gaze from the blue eyes glaring at him. But Jess noticed that Dean wasn't reaching for the phone lying there so innocently on his desk.
"I wanted to talk to you," Jess said, oh-so-smoothly, letting the words slide off his tongue like satin.
"You know what I want to do?"
"Does it involve peeled grapes and blindfolds?"
"Funny. No. I really want to hit you."
"So? Then do it," shrugged Jess, who knew Dean wouldn't do it.
Suddenly, a fist came flying by his face and Jess felt an intense, stinging pain in his left cheek. He gasped for some air, and touched his cheek. Jess felt a giant surge of adrenaline come to merge with his blood, and he felt himself stiffen again, and cursed his libido for thinking that way. He was supposed to want to hit Dean now, not rub himself frantically against him. He set his jaw straight, and glared at Dean with what he hoped was a steely gaze.
"Didn't even FEEL that," menaced Jess sweetly, and harshly gripped Dean's bare shoulders and pushed him backwards, and enjoyed the feeling of the other boy stumbling. He couldn't believe good-boy Dean had punched him. He knew he wasn't bleeding, but God, that hurt. He noticed that both of them had taken care to speak very low, as to not disturb the rest of the family, who would call the police, obviously.
"Who do you think you are, Jess? You're pathetic," sneered Dean, who had regained his composure.
"No, actually, I believe that would be you." Jess was intoxicated with the feeling of arousal and anger, and he was very unsure of where to go next.
Hit Dean, kiss Dean, hit Dean, kiss Dean. Dean took his chance to push Jess down on the soft carpeting, trying as he could to hurt him. The strength of Dean's push knocked them both down on the ground, and Dean lay sprawled provocatively over Jess, whose wind was knocked out of him. Jess gasped for air, and grappled with Dean as they both tried to maintain the upper hand. Dean seemed dazed after Jess hit him, hard in the face, but managed to grip Jess' arms to the floor with those big hands of his.
Jess struggled to get up, but only succeeded in bucking his hips against Dean's.
Dean took a breath of air, and looked down at Jess with more surprise than he'd ever shown that night. Even more so than when Jess hopped through the window. Jess took Dean's surprise to his advantage, and rolled them over until Dean was flush against his body, the heat pressing through Jess' thin shirt.
"Get off me," snarled Dean, who looked absolutely helpless with his wide blue eyes dilating to dark in the dim light of his room. Jess took one quick glance at him, and pressed his hips harder against Dean, grinding slowly.
"Feel that?" he whispered, so quietly that only Dean would ever hear. "You know you can..." Jess was breathless. Dean shoved Jess' shoulders backward, but Jess straddled Dean's naked torso and grasped the other boy's arms so he couldn't make any sudden movements. Dean refused to look at Jess, and threw his head to his side, a sudden flush coming over his face. He knew he was a little heavy on Dean, so he shifted slightly, breathing loudly, very impressed with the outcome. So heady he was with his own success of topping Dean that he slunk down closer on top of him, his own dark eyes gazing powerfully into Dean's dusky and anger-inflamed ones. He could feel Dean's heart pounding madly, the unbearable heat of his body pouring into his own.
"Get off. Now."
This time Dean said it, it was much more quiet.
"Okay."
Unbelievably, Jess rolled off Dean's body, instantly missing the heat of the other boy. Dean got up quickly, burning cheeks and all. No notice of arousal that Jess could see, and he was a little disappointed because that encounter had certainly done even more for him.
"Please, just go," said Dean placidly. He wouldn't meet Jess' eyes, and looked very embarrassed to be pushed down by someone smaller than him. And it looked as though Dean had remembered what Jess had pressed so hard into the lowest part of his abdomen. What had been the most shocking part of all? His arms hung down past that slim waist of his, and he was staring very hard at the window. His eyes screwed shut and he looked like he was trying very hard to forget all about it.
Jess had to give him credit for trying.
Jess blinked in his aroused state, his lips apart and short breaths coming out of his mouth. Then, some curse words fell out of that mouth, followed by a "Screw this." "I don't care what you think of me. Anybody thinks," he added hoarsely, and firmly walked up to the quiet boy, grabbed the soft back of his neck, and smashed Dean's lips to his.
God, it was so much better than he'd thought it would be.
He thought he knew the craving of another person, the painful desire that would arise whenever you walked by them. It was nothing at all compared to the boiling heat and hard, dizzy excitement that Jess felt. Dean protested, weakly pushing his hands at Jess' shoulders. Jess kissed him more desperately now, needing to have that faint sweetness of Dean's lips, needing those lips to part so he could suck the sweeter tongue in his mouth and make them both hard and gasping for air.
Dean's hands were trembling, and Jess noticed, as he coaxed Dean's lips to open for him. He took his free hand, and wrapped it around Dean's hand, which instantly gripped Jess' hand tightly before releasing it and starting to tremble again. Jess angled his head so he could have a more comfortable go at seducing Dean's mouth, which was trying to not have any part at all of this. However, Jess was determined to get some sort of reaction, because he was throbbing firm and he was just so hot all over. Dean struggled to move again, this time more faintly, and gave in, opening his mouth to rake in some air, while Jess inwardly grinned and invaded Dean's mouth with one quick wet thrust forward. He thought he would faint from the sheer excitement of it all. There were too many instincts going on in his mind. For one, the thought of getting off with Dean, of all people, made his entire body flush and press against Dean's once more. The feeling of his bare and muscled chest against Jess' clothed one was very distracting...until Jess felt Dean's tongue start to move against his.
Well, you could've knocked Jess out with a feather. Suddenly, Dean's lips were crashing passionately against his, and Jess was being pushed up, hard, against a bedroom wall and he found that he didn't care that his head had hit the wall, because Dean had thrown one of those strong arms around his shoulders and was tightly gripping his shoulder with the other one.
Dean's mouth was succulently hot, he knew, because his tongue had taken to battling with Dean's it was so velvety and.wet....
And there it was...Dean's erection pressed firmly, just a tiny bit above his own, rubbing so tightly and nicely against the throbbing his jeans. Jess sighed quietly, barely registering when Dean slipped a long leg between his own and when he unconsciously started massaging himself against it. Jess slid his hand up to Dean's face, caressing the soft skin, so smooth under his just-calloused hand.
Jess noticed that when Dean had given into kissing him back, he had done so with a rapt amount of passion...and still had done so, but now with a softer pressure, only with more frenzy and his chest pushing up against Jess' because of the lack of air. However, Jess thought that the lack of air only made it better...more desperate. He was sure that if he opened his eyes right now, he would find Dean with glistening, swollen lips and dark eyes of black, wet ink...and the mussed hair.
Oh, God, that just made him more turned on and he couldn't help it that he was practically grinding against Dean's leg. And Dean couldn't help grinding, either, he noticed...Jess felt dizzy, so dizzy. It was all so suffocating and intoxicating...making out with someone...you hated. Jess choked back a low moan, and slid his tongue back in Dean's mouth forcefully, gripping the back of his neck with a shaking hand once again. He felt sparks of exhilaration and joy, and a little bit of revolt...but that was pushed back when Dean's large hand slipped down to rub Jess in the best spot he could ever rub him.
"Holy...fuck," choked Jess, once he had pulled Dean's head back from his, his eyes dilating to black and harder than he'd ever been in his life...his throat raw, everything in his body strung so high he thought he would collapse, right then and there. He panted in hard and short breaths, shivers shooting up and down his back with manic speed and shaking a little when Dean pressed a little more. Jess couldn't.he couldn't believe that Dean was.God, he was touching him, touching him there.
"I'm sorry..." murmured Dean against Jess' damp neck, the only thing he said after he had responded to Jess' encouraging mouth. "Should I...do you want to stop?" he asked Jess tentatively, slowing his hand and just softly cupping Jess' bulge in his pants.
"I think..." breathed Jess, looking up at the ceiling with glossy wide eyes half shut, not being able to focus at all. Had.Dean just done that? "I think I should be asking you that question..."
"No.I don't...I don't want to. Stop, that is," said Dean quietly, a flitter of emotion passing through his eyes.
"You...don't have to. Just because I...kissed you...started...all this," said Jess brokenly, his voice deepened by his heightened state of dazed and confused excitement, blearily wondering if this all real at all. When he felt Dean gently smooth a hand over his cheeks, he clearly realized that he wasn't the only one feeling like this. There was another person in the world who felt exactly the same things he was feeling, and all at the same time. Such an unexpected connection with the person he thought he wouldn't ever connect to. Something so wrong that could turn out so interesting. Such an unexpected wonder to see someone who...wasn't tossing him away like some used piece of garbage. Someone who had the faint traces of stubble and all the hard edges and muscle, and still felt...soft to the touch. It was a different thing for Jess. He realized that he liked it. A lot.
Jess' hand was still curved around the sloping grace of Dean's neck, and his other hand grasping tightly at the start of Dean's pajamas on his right side. Dean's hands slid slowly around Jess' neck, until they were almost both nose to nose, and eye to eye. Jess swallowed evenly, cocking his head to look at Dean, straight in the face. They both had the same expression on their face...the one of need...for the other. Jess was shocked at the veritable intimacy in this position, both of them suffused against each other warmly as though they had known each other like this for years. He wondered if it was Dean being so close to him making his knees tremble ever so slightly, or if it was that determined glance in Dean's eyes, so close to him. He felt vulnerable, for once in his life.
It was so strange to have a man pressed up against him, staring at him in the face like he were the last drop of water on earth. Like some sort of mantra.
The two were breathing heavily, inebriated with the sensation of being completely inflamed with yearning and a deep sense of thrill of having fully kissed a boy.
"So," whispered Jess, brushing his own cheek against Dean's in a suggestive manner. "I know you don't like boys and all, but would you mind it badly if I kissed you again?"
Dean looked at him contemptuously for a moment. "I don't like boys," he said.
"Me either," replied Jess.
"You don't? But you just totally jumped me a while ago."
"I don't like boys. I like you," whispered Jess hotly in Dean's air, and he grinned when he felt the tall boy tremble just the smallest bit. "Well, I like that hard thing of yours pressing against my leg, anyway."
Dean took in a deep breath of air. "Fine with me," he whispered back, with the coyest of smiles on his face.
"As long as you don't punch me again," said Jess.
"Hey. You intruded on me, remember."
"I remember," smiled Jess.
Blood surged to Jess' groin, Dean feeling it, flush against him, Jess feeling it even more. Jess looked up at Dean, a very intense look on his face. "Could you...put your hand back down..." he gasped, just as Dean leaned down to start kissing Jess' neck, very faintly, before the full-on sucking made Jess buck into Dean's conforming hand.
"Oh, yes..." Jess whispered hoarsely, and took to licking the length of Dean's neck, completely breathless again.
"You know...then again, maybe things aren't so wrong," mused Jess as he licked a broad swathe down Dean's neck, very much enjoying the small appreciative noise he made when he did so. Then Dean pressed against him as he was being rubbed, ever so nicely, and he was reminded of something.
"Maybe some things are," he corrected himself, before sealing his mouth over Dean's, and finally having his way...
finit