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Post by phineas doe on Aug 4, 2011 13:24:27 GMT -10
The sound of the waves lapping against the shore. The smell of seasalt in the air. The call of seagulls and the distant buzz of tourists splashing and laughing on the beach. He remembered the rock of the cave floor feeling cool on his bare feet. He remembered a natural elegance being interrupted by a stumble, and falling directly into those arms. Those arms. Powerful, sinuous, confident; holding him safe. Gazing down at the lad beneath a stray lock of swarthy hair, Grayson Thomas could have kissed Phineas at that very moment.
But he hadn't.
Phineas opened his eyes. He was lying down. He was a fey young man of eighteen years, and he had his slim lightly-tanned arms folded over his brow to shield the sun from his eyes. It was late afternoon and he was lying beneath the dappled lime-green canopy, a book open on his chest. He took the book, stood up, and stretched. Despite his young age and timid temperament, Phineas Doe had a business of his own – a small vintage bookstore not far from here. He'd had it for mere hours.
The boat had arrived here on Ehu Island early this morning, leaving Phineas plenty of time to check out his new residence and unpack. He didn't have much, so it hadn't taken long. And it was a Sunday – stock would arrive tomorrow. He had the rest of the day to himself. So he'd decided to explore, and here he was, in a woodland he didn't know the name of, reading Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea for the fourteenth time.
He looked up into the high canopy, platinum hair falling back to reveal big ocean eyes, though he squinted somewhat as the sun hit them, and in a vague kind of way decided he was happy here.
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Post by Grayson Thomas on Aug 5, 2011 10:26:16 GMT -10
he hadn't.
it had haunted him even as he held molly's hands in his before the preacher, her soft Midwestern accent forming the words that bound them to one another. in the background, his mother had wept.
molly, of the immaculate house and gentle temperament. molly, the kindergarten teacher, who, after months of being around her "peaches," as she called them, decided she wanted one of her own. not so much wanted as pined for one. she was twenty-seven to grayson's thirty-two, and that old biological clock had been ticking for some time now.
he had married her out of despair. she had married him for children.
molly, dear molly. with her shock of cascading red hair, her skin lightly tanned, and expressive hazel eyes, she was beautiful. she was kindhearted. she was flawless. she was nothing grayson could hate and therefore he could not justify his resentment of her.
he'd taken a management position at a firm specializing in the global marketing of locomotive machinery, and found himself each day in a suit, having traded in his flannels and jeans. a large salary went along with that new title, followed by accolades, followed by a modest, though elegant, house in the suburbs. even a couple of dogs and a room upstairs that molly was busily renovating into a nursery for the children she expected to have with him.
poor, poor molly. she had no idea that he did not love her, that each time he took her in his arms, he was doing a service, a duty. sex was a veil for him, a cover for the self-loathing and despair he felt almost daily. his climaxes thrust him upward in higher heights of shame. he could not bring himself to break her heart, however, and so he was silent, pasting faux smiles onto his face when she invited their new neighbours over for lemonade and bbq chicken on their deck, cardboard words spilling from his mouth as he talked about work and home and, yes, even the children molly so wanted.
he evaded the conversation. his wife thought it a proper talk to have, though she had already made up her mind about it. gray buried himself in his work, relieved that there was enough of it to justify not talking with her, to justify putting off their sex life for as long as he could, though the sparkle of shame and concern in her eyes rent his heart.
the firm sent him away on business, but before he could breathe, the destination sent a hammer down upon him. hawaii. phineas. and all he could do for his flights was stare silently out the window, daring himself not to look for the young man, though he knew he would.
he disembarked and checked into a beachfront hotel, courtesy of his title and position. days melted into weeks; he entombed himself in paperwork and rarely stepped outside. until today. today gray allowed himself a walk, though not on the beach. that was where it had all begun. near the hotel was a broad expanse of forest, and he trekked there, disdaining a beer for the time being. as the cool shadows touched him, he breathed in the air and closed his eyes for a moment.
the trail spread out before him and, revitalized, gray took it. his mind whirled with a thousand thoughts as a gentle breeze tugged softly at the edges of his blue t-shirt. the ground crunched quietly beneath his sandals as grayson began to sort the miasma clouding his mind.
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Post by phineas doe on Aug 8, 2011 11:05:24 GMT -10
Although he was pale of hair and distinctly Caucasian – and, what was more, from an upper class English family, educated in Eton – Phineas Doe was by now an honourary Hawaiian. One year was not long, but it had been a very eventful year, and one that had shaped him into the young man he was today. Most of that time had been spent in Honolulu, the capital, where bad people roamed the beaches at night, and the bars were always busy, even during the day.
Ehu Island was different. It was more modest, more humble, and had less people in it. Being in silence one could hear not road traffic and the laughter of tourists, but the concerto of crickets, and the sound of a very soft seabreeze in the trees. He had learned some Hawaiian from his dusty old employer back in Honolulu, but here on the island it seemed to be more commonly-used. Though this was still his very first day here. There was lots to learn.
And the beautiful thing was; he wanted to learn it. Phineas mused on this happy fact as he walked on, and, realising that there was nobody around, decided it'd be okay to keep reading Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea, with no fear of bumping into anyone. “The monster emerged several fathoms from the water and then gave forth that intense but inexplicable light that had already been reported by various sea captains”...
Then Phineas heard an evident crunch up ahead. There was someone else coming along the track from the other direction. But he didn't want to look up just yet. He had to finish this page...
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Post by Grayson Thomas on Aug 9, 2011 7:18:10 GMT -10
gray forced himself back to the present, for someone was approaching, coming the opposite way. his dark eyes fell on the interloper to his solitude; in the next moment his chest had tightened with a smothered gasp. the boy was lanky, porcelain, eldritch light filtering down on him from the canopy. and in his long-fingered hands was a book.
while he had stopped walking, he did not speak. he realized his eyes were tracing with too much familiarity the graceful curve of the other's cheek, the lips which he had not touched. he knew this boy with his love of books.
the despair landed on him once more; gray had thought he was resigned to his fate, but upon seeing the one person his heart had ever pined for, he realized that this was not true. he fought back the nervous gesture of running his hand through his hair, forced a smile to his lips.
"It's good t'see you again, Phineas."
and now what would happen? he would feel the full force of phineas' beautiful eyes, though he must not fall into them as he had before. his heart leapt in his chest, but he must stifle his excitement, which threatened to drown out the dismality that had welled inside of him.
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Post by phineas doe on Aug 9, 2011 8:18:05 GMT -10
The moment was looming – that moment when he'd have to look up from the words of his book to acknowledge the oncomer. So not to bump into them. Or even to give a shy greeting as they passed by. After all, this was a forest trail, not the wilderness, and Phineas expected either a local Hawaiian, crunching onwards on the terrain they owned, or else a tourist with a dog and a happy smile.
Phineas looked up a few seconds sooner than he normally would have. Because when the stranger turned the corner and was in his peripheral vision, his heart leapt and he didn't know why. Then he saw him. The one most present in his thoughts, the one who had left him before they'd even begun. Grayson. How could he possibly be here.
He was stopped in his tracks now – both were. And the youth didn't let his eyes drink in the man before him, for he couldn't tear his gaze away from those deep brown eyes. Phineas couldn't hear his own thoughts at the moment, but if he could he would have heard himself wondering if this forest was mystical, and prone to bringing up illusions. Gray could not be here...
But he was, and Phineas didn't have it in him to be in control, to be polite, to be restrained and proper. His book fell to the ground ignored, hitting the turf, and Phineas, far from in control of his own actions, heart pounding like it was being crafted by a blacksmith with an anvil as heavy as a mountain, threw his slim arms around Grayson's neck and buried his head in his chest.
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Post by Grayson Thomas on Aug 9, 2011 9:14:34 GMT -10
he expected a quiet response in turn, soft words coloured with the British accent that so charmed gray's ears. but phineas did not. the thump of the book was forgotten by them both as the boy flung himself into grayson's embrace.
stunned, for a moment, not by the gesture but by the nearness he had so craved all these past months, grayson drew phineas closer. his hands smoothed across the youth's back, and he looked down at the tousled head of gossamer hair.
slowly, grayson tilted phineas' head back, dark eyes searching for what he so wanted to see in the ocean-gaze, what phineas had communicated silently that day in the cave, but he did not wait to see it.
grayson thomas did as he should have done the last time he'd help phineas in his arms; lowered his mouth gently to the boy's own, the kiss a continuation of that search.
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Post by phineas doe on Aug 9, 2011 9:56:10 GMT -10
Phineas wasn't thrown off or pushed back, but instead held, as he'd always dreamed of being. The boy pressed the side of his head into Grayson's hard chest, against the blue t-shirt, eyes closed and able to hear the gentle pounding of the man's heart. He wasn't a hallucination or an apparition. He was real.
But that didn't mean the forest wasn't magic.
Phineas was half dreading the moment when he'd have to think again. He wanted his mind to remain blissfully blank. But that moment came sooner than expected, when Gray's powerful hand tilted up Phin's delicate chin with both confidence and gentleness, revealing the endless blue of Phineas's eyes, set against a face whose beauty was designed only for Grayson.
He realised, looking up at him, both unsmiling, how he had memorised Gray's every feature. From his smooth strong jaw, to his handsome straight nose, to those deep dark eyes that had been with Phineas's every step and every breath for the last few months.
Then Gray kissed him, and Phineas had never wanted anything more. He met the kiss, and as he did so a faint shudder of pleasure ran through his body. He pressed his hands into Gray's chest, holding onto his shirt as if never to let go.
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Post by Grayson Thomas on Aug 10, 2011 7:37:28 GMT -10
he felt the shudder that sprang through phineas' body; it was mirrored by one of his own, and a low sound that rose primally, unbidden, in his throat. his kiss grew more firm; he cupped the back of the boy's head in one broad, work-roughened palm, tasting with ardent hunger the only balm for his soul.
it was surreal, standing here beneath the misted green light, caught in an embrace he had only dreamt about. gray put all thoughts of molly from his head, tried to ignore the niggling of guilt that chafed at his morbidly uplifted spirit as he pulled his lips from phineas' own to trace his sculpted cheek, moving briefly along the junction of jaw to throat before returning to their kiss.
his hands he did not allow to rove; instead he gently stroked the youth's back, fingertips feathering along his spine. he forced himself into control, for if he did not, he would possess phineas here and now.
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Post by phineas doe on Aug 11, 2011 5:13:01 GMT -10
With an evident difference in height Phineas had to pull himself upwards to give in to Grayson's deeper kiss, wrapping his arms around the man's neck, tongue passionately hitting the back of his teeth. The sound Gray made felt like the growl of a wolf, and Phin felt it all throughout his body, as if they were one.
Then the rugged Southerner drew back from their kiss, but before Phineas could pull him back (because now that they were finally – finally – together, he couldn't let him go), he felt Grayson's lips press into his smooth, narrow jaw, and the nape of his neck. The forest around them was so verdant that the only thing in the world to make Phineas's blue eyes close to it was the pleasure Gray made him feel.
Their lips were together again, provoking unbidden a very soft, almost childishly innocent moan, and his slim hands were round the edge of that swarthy head of hair now, then slid over Grayson's chest, feeling every contour of hard, intimidating muscle.
Phineas had no idea that what they were doing had to stop.
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Post by Grayson Thomas on Aug 11, 2011 11:50:52 GMT -10
the stretch and press of phineas' body against grayson's provoked a harder press of teeth to the other side of the boy's throat, traveling down to phineas' collarbone as that lovely, soft moan provided the beginning to the symphony gray had only envisioned.
the feathering touch of phineas' hands along his chest caused the older man to tense, and with visible effort, he pulled his lips away from the youth's neck. holding himself still as his blood raced, he sought the mirroring emotion in phineas' own eyes. he did not want to be responsible for taking the boy onto a level he was not ready to go; he didn't want to be the cause of phineas' heartache when he inevitably explained why he couldn't stay here, in hawaii, forever.
but the soft rose of the boy's mouth, the way he had yielded to grayson -- it evoked a more primal instinct, to possess, to claim phineas for his own, and so he held the boy against him still, attempting to find the words to speak as his mouth moved gently against one porcelain cheek.
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Post by phineas doe on Aug 11, 2011 13:02:09 GMT -10
He had well and truly given in to Grayson. He had never been touched this passionately, never been kissed this deeply. Phineas's mind was barely working, but his heart was, and his body was, and his slim form was held so totally to Gray's body that he could collapse and he'd still be held up. One hand buried itself in Gray's black hair as the man moved to kiss Phineas's neck once more, and he was fleetingly aware that they were outdoors, on a public track.
But he didn't care.
If Grayson had been able to resist Phineas's eyes, perhaps his mind would have continued to remain switched off. But as it was, the brown-eyed American drew back momentarily so that their eyes met, and in this second, a rush of thoughts came to him. For there was something behind Gray's handsome eyes; something he couldn't understand.
Phineas placed his hands on those brawny shoulders and drew back a little to look at Gray with questioning in his big eyes. Why was he here? How was he here? Would he be staying here? Why had he left Honolulu? What had he been doing? But he couldn't word the questions. His lips were still parted, his breathing laboured, and he was desperate to be kissed again, but... he needed to know what was going on.
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Post by Grayson Thomas on Aug 12, 2011 8:33:53 GMT -10
the sudden questions that leapt into phineas' eyes were enough to make gray regret having ever stopped their kiss. yet, that moralistic overhang with which he had been raised insinuated itself between grayson and phineas. he pulled back somewhat, ran a hand along the boy's soft cheek.
"i should have done that before." how could phineas know that grayson had kicked himself over that one, over that missed opportunity. losing phineas was what had driven him into a weakness that his parents exploited with molly. molly. how could he even bring himself to say her name, when already he felt himself falling dangerously away from her.
but on the other hand, the blue innocence of phineas' eyes -- that he could not stand to mar with his admission '-- that he was married, a synonym for unattainable in some circles. "i don't want to hurt you, phineas," gray said softly, forcing himself to hold the boy's eyes.
he wanted to kiss phineas again, end this dream that was beginning to turn dark with sourness.
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Post by phineas doe on Aug 12, 2011 11:26:11 GMT -10
As much as Gray's touch was the most desired thing in the world to him, Phineas would never forget how much he'd loved Grayson's personality, and his wit, and his way of thinking. So surely he would revel in it now, keen to hear that deep voice again. But Phineas was aware, as they looked into one another's eyes, that the trademark handsome smile was absent, and there was something between them – a barrier that he didn't yet understand.
Fiercely opposed to the barrier, he pressed himself closer into Gray's arms. He wouldn't let anything come between them any more. As much as the man's voice sent a pleasant tingle along his spine, he didn't quite understand the meaning of the words he formed. “How could you ever hurt me”, he uttered innocently, gaze darting from one brown eye to the other.
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Post by Grayson Thomas on Aug 15, 2011 7:47:51 GMT -10
he almost hated the innocence in phineas' face -- almost. for it tore at his heart, choked the words in his throat. he pondered briefly what he would have done had he not stopped kissing phineas, if he would have gone on, only to hurt the boy with his betrayal. he did not want the youth to feel used, and so he forced himself to speak, wrapping his arms more tightly around phineas.
"i'm married now." the words were bitter on his tongue, and his dark eyes slid away from phineas when he spoke them, like the shameful, downcast gaze of a dog who is about to be punished. he couldn't explain it to phineas, however, couldn't explain why he had given up on them and allowed his parents to suppress the very core of him with something so backwards, at least to him.
oh, his father knew it, and his mother suspected, but with his marriage to molly, perhaps the both of them hoped he would somehow be "cured." grayson sighed, a long sound full of shuddering regret. "it all happened so quickly; my parents are happy with me again, but -- " his eyes begged with a silent scream phineas' understanding, his forgiveness, though he would understand if he was never given that. he did not want to hurt either of them, the glowing youth that he loved or the kind woman he was married to. grayson was caught.
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Post by phineas doe on Aug 15, 2011 11:30:06 GMT -10
OOC: Would it be OK if you could emphasise Gray's dialogue? <3
IC: Phineas felt dread grow within him. Only seconds ago it had been passion. But Grayson held him so close, made him feel so safe; there was nothing he could say to make him feel hurt.
“I'm married now”.
Except that.
Without thinking, Phineas felt himself pulling lightly away, out of those powerful arms that held him pretending to be safe. When in fact they were treacherous. Phin's big blue eyes were frozen on the man's tanned face. Grayson had uttered those words as they were mischief or accident. Did he know how much they hurt? Didn't he know how deep this was?
“I thought... I thought...”, he whimpered tragically. He felt broken inside. “I... I don't know what to do”.
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