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 Posted: Fri Nov 13, 2009 10:32 pm
 I'm Called: Loren Jolivet
I've been alive for: 15 Years
My Birthday Is: January 23rd
I Love: Drawing, the library, art class, karate and hot showers as well as going to his church.
I Hate: Strong perfumes and cologne, waking up early, school,
I'm Professional At: Cooking, playing the guitar and keyboard...and drawing, I presume.
I Epically Fail At: Being social in school, showing my emotions...a bit...and I can't hold my liquor. At all.
At Heart I'm: Uke, Bisexual
My Favorite Color Is: Midnight blue
My Past Goes Like This: Born and raised in his quiet, happy home, Loren was a typical kid -- went to church every Sunday, went on vacations with his parents, and had his fun. He picked up Karate when he was four and loved it. He advanced quickly and easily in Karate, progressing multiple belts in one year as his life passed. And he met a friend. And that friend was dear to him. However, when he was nine that friend faded. He had then completed the color belts and was moving onto black belt.
They had somehow miraculously gone to the same high school, and Loren knew it wouldn't be the same anymore. he was mistreated by the person he would call his best friend so long ago. But he continued to live...and when he was fourteen, his parents died. Not too long ago. He now walks to his dojo, still taking his Karate lessons for free from his teacher who had pity on him. But now he has his best friend living across the hall...Loren swears he can't live for long in this house.
Like the picture?: {xXx}
My Signature: The Seme
I'm Called: Matthew Shane Harper
I've been alive for: 16
My Birthday Is: September 23rd.
I Love: Wood carving. Listening to music (classical mostly, when working or carving). Sex. Loopholes. Freedom of choice. Parties with friends. The occasional time alone. Reading poetry/prose. Picking locks, pockets, eliciting information and secrets (these are his main source for manipulation with anyone). Playing pranks, making a scene. Making good jokes. Sometimes though, he embeds subtle but painful and nasty gibes at the the person he's directing the comment about something personal. Loren. In denial, but secretly Matt loves hearing Loren call him by his childhood name, "Shay".
I Hate:Loren. Boredom. Idiocy. Expectations about always being "proper". Saturated or strong and obviously artificial smells (ex: womens' perfume/men's cologne). Retarded-ness. Parents' ignorance and dense qualities (however, does abuse this because he can use it as loopholes). Making promises. Social rules/obligations. Containing his ever present restlessness. Oh, right, and was stupidity ever mentioned in some way or another? Performing selfless acts without any sort of merit/benefit. Hearing Loren call him by that secret childhood name, "Shay". Parents' reinforcement of being a good Christian and following the rules.
I'm Professional At: Playing the piano, carving wood, stealing without getting caught. Getting into and out of trouble. Sticking to his words once made (ex: threats or promises). Humor/comedy. Lying. Blunt honesty (mostly about opinons). Harsh cruelty (but almost always with secret good intentions behind it all). Concealing his true feelings.
I Epically Fail At: Expressing his true feelings. Expressing opinions with tact. Truth without a situation where he can use sarcasm or a touch of some form of humor. Direct or outright shows of compassion/kindness.
At Heart I'm: Pansexual, in truth. "Straight", as far as his parents, other adults, and church members go. He will flirt or have sex with either.
My Favorite Color Is: Slategray.
My Past Goes Like This: At the age of five, Matthew Shane Harper met and befriended an angel. Or something like one. At least, that's what he thought when he first saw the boy's beautiful, soulful face. Initially, that first moment he almost believed in the "love-at-first-sight" lie, despite his--albeit short--lifelong realistic attitude against it. Being raised as an only child of a fairly wealthy family--his family never stayed rich for long because of the eleemosynary habits of his parents and their constant donations to their beloved church--he has always had access to many venues of activities. His parents always wished for him to learn the piano, and while he did love the music that flowed from it, loved hearing the beauty of classical music being made through his own skills, he loved grabbing a piece of wood and a knife and carving away to make something worthy out of something deemed "useless". Creating a physical art from supposedly nothing, like music with the piano and figurines, charms or wooden knives with wood, was his high in life. He loved putting his body into good use. That was a philosophy that stuck with him even into high school.
In first grade, he made true on that philosophy in most every sense of the phrase except sexually. He didn't do that until eight grade. He had talent and skills in a great variety of things including sports, but mainly basketball and later on, volleyball. In year after that, he'd discovered that there were feelings in him for Loren that weren't "normal". He realized he rather liked the pretty boy Loren, his best friend. Wondering what that meant, he thought about it, turned the thought over in his mind about it long and hard for two consecutive years. Putting his thoughts away, not able to caring enough to think on the matter any longer, Matt dates his first girl and along the way, loses Loren. From there, things started to change. Drastically.
Matthew, a.k.a. "Matt" among his friends, grows popular and starts seeing Loren with different eyes. Compares his ex-best friend as that of a flower. Pretty, fragile, sweet and all too wrong for the popular crowd that he hung out with. Hating the fact that Loren isn't trying to fit in and is slowly becoming a person he can't socially be around, he starts bullying him, wishing his ever present feelings from the second grade would just go the ******** away or die off--after all, how many seasons had already come and gone now? Those feelings that was planted in second grade only grew more and more with every year in him and he didn't want it there. But like a weed, it rooted and coiled itself around his heart and stayed with him. Year. After year. After year.
By now, Matt no longer enjoyed having things get too personal. Things get messy that way. Girls had taught him that and so had life. His own life was good, just slightly irritating by all those peppy church-goers and his too-dense parents...but he knew that it was always better when no one really knew you. They couldn't judge you, say what was "normal" of you and what wasn't. Kept them all on their toes. But more importantly--it let him get away with the things he'd do. And so he opted to wear "masks" to shield his true opinons and feelings. Of course, he's the golden boy who's supposed to execute everything with top-notch quality, make everyone happy. Do the right thing. And even if he doesn't always do the right thing, he's popular and considered the cool cat around which allows him to get away with a lot of things. Including bullying Loren. Especially him. Why couldn't he get rid of these feelings? Why did he hate himself for hurting Loren? Why in the world did he hurt?
A quick mind, a pair of quick hands along with nimble fingers made him a skilled theft of anything. Be it pockets or the mind, he drew out what he wanted from anywhere. Secrets, money, notes. He didn't even mind the occasional drink or smoke. The concentration needed for stealing, the numbness of mind from drinking, and the relaxation from smoking pure tobacco kept his mind off that big blue-eyed Loren. Hoping it was simply sexual frustration--he'd learned in health that could happen--Matt went out and coaxed the first person he found worthwhile to have sex with him. It was a girl. Nothing. Later on, he even tried a guy. Still nothing. Rather, still restless. Frustrated that Loren--who mind you is damnedly hot now--is the one thing he couldn't have, Matt's more selfish nature kicked in and soon he went out and started bullying his once-best friend with more intensity. The mentality of it all was that, hey, if he couldn't have Loren, no one could. Making it known that Loren was his as a target, Matt saw to it that he wasn't approached. And yet, he still liked the blue-eyed devil.
So now Loren has no friends or any obvious crushes following him around. He's the loser and I'm the hottest guy around. So why is it that I'm still so frustrated, you ask? Because. My damn parents have to go and do the honorable thing and make my life absolutely perfect. They ADOPT the newly orphaned child. Now, not only do I see him at school everyday like usual (considering we're in the same grade, a bit obvious) but he also lives with me and sleeps in the room across from mine. And what's that? That's right. I still. Can't. Have him. ******** my life. I can practically hear a taunting little voice on my shoulder asking me, "You're ******** now...And you have no idea what you're going to do, do you?"
Unfortunately, I'd have to agree.
s**t. What' now?
Like the picture?: This is Me.
My Signature: Desolation in Damnation.
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Posted: Fri Nov 13, 2009 10:36 pm
Wednesday morning. No school.
Stepping out of the steamy bathroom, Loren had on his black cotton pajama pants loosely around his waist, his boxers just barely peeking out and his upper torso topless. A fluffy, white towel was around his thin neck, black hair dripping water onto it and sticking to his neck and scalp. Goose flesh almost immediately appeared, and the first thing he wanted was a shirt.
Padding softly down the wood-floored halls of his new home, he walked over to his room, ruffling through his hair and drying it before slipping on a plain navy-blue shirt. His footsteps were soft, walking downstairs and soon into the kitchen. He had homework to do...and a male named Matthew...no, Shay to avoid.
He had moved in a couple weeks ago or so ago, right near school starting. It was September 23th today..It would be his birthday today....Loren ignored those thoughts and opened the bottle, drinking a good fourth of it down.
Looking out the window, he saw the leaves changing color from their bright greens to beautiful reds and yellows, standing there for a moment before walking out of the kitchen and back up to his room....which was right across from Shay's room
Shay...
Looking at the other's door rather painfully, he walked into his own and started to work on his homework, door ajar a goof three-to-four inches or so, unable to get his 'brother' out of his mind...as usual. Why couldn't they be the same like before? Small doodles began to form on the edges of his paper. A hand holding a long drag with smoke clouds that seemed similar to Asian design pouring out. The smooth paper began textured with pen indents and soon had blue ink floating around here and there. Loren then altogether abandoned his work and started to re-write it on a new piece of paper.
A small click of metal against metal was heard, a bracelet on his left wrist moving this way and that as his hand shifted around. It was a rather large chain piece of jewelry with a charm on it that had a half of a heart. The work 'Best' was on it....and Shay had the other side that said 'Friends.'
The two had bought it when they were younger. Saving up enough money for the silly trinket, it still didn't rust or even break and was still on his soft skin, moving this way and that and cool against his pores. Looking at it always reminded him of Matthew...he didn't know why he hadn't taken it off.
Sighing, he leaned back into his chair, unable to think straight....perhaps a nap would do him good. Not that long ago his parents had fallen down to a fire while he survived. He had no idea why he was still in this world; to be punished for his sins, perhaps? To suffer while his dear old friend plays around with girls and beats him up for fun while he suffers in every way possible?
He and Matt....where did their relationship take a wrong turn?
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Posted: Sat Nov 14, 2009 2:54 pm
||For one thing: I love the changes you made, the additions to the post...
However, you forgot to change one other little...a small change that actually would make a lot of sense time wise into the RP. Matt's birthday is the 23rd of September. xD And yeah, if he moved in around the first day of school, depending on if it's the first or a later date, it wouldn't be a few weeks...So if we're starting off on a Saturday, then it'd have to be five days before his birthday. o.o Unless you want me to change his birthday to the nineteenth--which I can do, but then you'd have to change his profile in the thread as well. xD For now, I'll post as if it was his birthday--we'll forget the fact that in a calendar, his birthday ISN'T a Saturday. xDDD||
The sun's gleaming through the windows, scattering colors into the darkened room.
Mornings...on a Saturday.
I should not have to see the ********' sun on a god-damned Saturday.
Groaning, the young male turned in his bed and covered his ears with his sleep-flattened pillow.
If it wasn't the rustling of blankets, the padding of soft feet, the sound of running water it was more padding of soft feet. Considering he'd honed his sense of hearing (among other things) as a child, whether it was for picking out a mistake in his piano playing or to eaves drop from afar to steal information he wanted, all the sounds were loud. Matthew gave up trying to sleep, propped himself onto his elbow and dragged his fingers through the heavy mass of black hair. His hair wasn't unlike that of a black lab's in that it was sleek, short and black. Though he was growing it out a bit more, he would always quickly tire of the hair style and return to cropping it short again. He was always restless, bored. The restlessness had started a few years back, the constant feeling of needing to do something. It was why he was everywhere he could be. The boredom was being nothing was satisfying him, sating that need to do something. What did he need to do to get rid of this feeling? Curious, knowing he was going to get no answers by asking the air in front of him and that one wasn't going to just appear in his mind like a God-sent epiphany, the young male sat up and crossed his legs on the bed, one long arm reaching over and snagging his glasses. He didn't like anyone to know, but he usually wore prescribed glasses. It wasn't because his eyesight was bad. It was just slightly under 20-20. He didn't need them, but when he wanted to work on detailed materials like wood carving, it was deemed safer to use the glasses. In the mornings, it also got his mind kicking off into a start.
Blinking a few times, shaking his head, he went out of his bed, lightly tossed his glasses onto the bedside table, dressed in nothing but what he fell into bed wearing the previous night--a scuffed-up light gray pair of jeans. They matched his eyes and were testament to his secret hobbies of wood carving, for there were signs of small wood-dust on the thighs of the leggings; he'd been sanding something. He'd been making a new charm. It was shaped in the form of a book. He'd meant to make a small version of the book, A Walk to Remember, with fine details...but in the end, as his mind trailed off, he'd made a spiral book. More importantly, a spiral sketch-book. Even his subconscious mind was thinking about the new addition his family. No, he did not have a dog that could draw. He had a certain blue-eyed orphan living in his house, in the room across from his, who drew. If that could be considered an 'abandoned dog', sure. Only thing was, he wasn't abandoned. Loren's parents died in an accident. That was why he was here as his official, legal little brother now. And it ********' sucked.
Padding softly down the wood-floored halls of his new home, he walked over to his room, ruffling through his hair and drying it before slipping on a plain navy-blue shirt. His footsteps were soft, walking downstairs and soon into the kitchen. He had homework to do...and a male named Matthew...no, Shay to avoid.
Decided he'd get something to eat, Matt headed off towards the kitchen. Skipping breakfast was bad for the mind and the metabolism after all. However, just before he left the room something caught his eye. A small white box. A small jewelry box. Some girl had given it to him. And he'd hated it, but she wouldn't let him refuse it. He suspected the girl was either someone who wanted to date or befriend Loren. The reason he'd make such a seemingly-ludicrous deduction? Because the girl didn't want to stick around and talk to him, had a look of sadness in her eyes when he mentioned Loren's name, and distaste for him when she remembered who she was talking to. He didn't like her. If his observation skills weren't as honed as his senses, he'd have said it was because of what she gave him. It was a small charm. It was very intricate, probably custom made because of the design. It was a small book opened up at the middle with a small deep-blue gem centered in the book. A sapphire. The jewel for his birth month. The same deep hue of Loren's eyes. What, did she take out one of his irises and go to a jeweler to stick it in this little charm or something? The shade wasn't even the slightest bit off. He would know. He'd done a lot of staring into those same blue eyes when the two of them were younger. Though they both had black hair, Loren's eyes were that angel's deep blue and Matt's were--when he was in a good mood--a soft gray with light green speckles. The other color couldn't be seen usually, so only those who'd come close to him would know. If any of the people he'd had sex with thus far ever really looked into his eyes, not looked at his lips and his d**k, maybe they might have noticed. But the only one he knew for sure who knew of this trait of his was Loren. Loren knew a lot of things about him that no one else knew.
Then again, there were a lot of things that no one knew too.
Closing the small box, he'd whipped his arm up and around, a second from chucking it across his room and against the wall when a flash of memory stayed his arm. He hadn't been really able to see Loren's blue eyes in a long while. His 'little brother' tried to avoid him--and not without good cause--and Matt himself was guilty of not wanting to see. Some part of him didn't want Loren to see that part of him that he tried to hide from everyone, even himself. He did admit it though, albeit begrudgingly, that he loved his little brother. And not in the familiar way of a friend. Not even in the fillial way of a brother. But in a forbidden heinous way--at least, it was considered foul in the religion he grew up with. He wanted Loren, body, mind and soul. And he could have none of it. Well, he had dibs on Loren in body--but only as a target to the school bully in school. Mind, in that he probably cause Loren to think about him, consider him, in everything he did. But not in soul. That beautiful, blue-eyed angel of a boy wasn't his to have. But that selfish part of him didn't care. As long as no on else got to have him. He lightly put it onto his secondary desk in the room--the one he used for when working with wood--next to the charm he'd finished last night. How ironic. He had a gem-mimic of the very eyes that Loren used when he drew in a sketchbook just like the one he'd made. With a small grimace, his eyes lowered and darkened. He didn't care for the irony. He just wanted Loren out of his mind. Because with him there, not only was the boy constantly in his mind, but his mental presence also affected his body in ways that were not "normal". Not that he cared about being normal, but he had to keep the apperances up of being straight in front of adults, church members, and most of all: his parents.
Pivoting on his heel, he turned away from the miniature workshop and went out of his room with a thoughtful look on his face. There were three extra rooms that no one used. One, his parets used as a storage. That left two, but out of those were always left open should there be a need for his samatarian parents to help out the occasional person--stranger or no. So that last empty room was going to be converted into a wooden workshop. When he first heard of Loren's tragedy, he felt a mixture of empathy, wonder, and suspicion. What would happen to Loren now? How would he make sure no one else took him, this angel from his memories? Of course, later he also measured how likely it would be for his parents to help the boy out, being who they were. And then they adopted him. Worst possible choice they could have chosen, at least for him. That pair were the world's most dense parents ever. They couldn't see that there was an awkwardness between the two for years, whenever Loren's name came up. Even the more obvious signs they didn't pick up. Not even when the two of them wouldn't talk to each other at all voluntarily that first night over dinner, did they pick it up. And somehow from these parents came Matthew. The perceptive, keen and observant child. It must have been in the family but skipped his parents and made up for the one generation in him.
When Loren moved in, he took the last room. Matthew told his parents to go for it, that he could stay with his miniature workshop in his room as he had all these years. He would rather no one--with the exception of his parents, since they bought him different types of wood and knives, sanding papers--know about his personal life if he could help it. That included Loren, of course. Sighing, he silently closed the door behind his back and leaned back on it, lost in his haze of thoughts. Would life continue to be a game of metaphorical masquerade parties? And when had he last felt truly relaxed, comfortable and happy? Times when none of his current problems existed. The only times he could think of were back when he first met Loren and those first few years. Look at that; Loren was even his first love. Great. Some part of him thought viciously with an edge of sarcasm, I hope he's had sex before so I won't be his first.
Lately, Matt had been quieter and more thoughtful than ever. The school didn't realize yet--at the very least, not all of them--that Matt and Loren were now legal brothers. Technically, bullying Loren now meant abuse by family. That was considered illegal, even though it was just act strongly frowned upon when they were "perfect strangers". It started since his 'lil bro' started living with him. Keeping himself in constant reins in front of the parents, needing to keep his mental skills sharp at all times to fluidly change topics or manipulate the people or the situation around him--even at home, no longer just at school or the occasional outside encounters. It caused Matt to slowly start going to less parties, stay home and carve away. When he did go to parties, he'd drink enough to get tipsy and relaxed. He usually would play piano in the air, listening to a classical piece in his mp3 which would be slipped into his pocket. Something that calmed him. Nothing changed much except that, when he wasn't at parties or socializing, he wasn't at home either. He'd always preferred conversations but now he preferred texts. There were subtle changes and all because he was so restless and trying to relax. His grades didn't change, his abilities on the courts was still the best. Studies and physical activities kept his mind sharp and relaxed simultaneously--he didn't need to focus on multiple variables at a time. Even his attitude at school, the bullying of the losers at schools didn't change. But at the end of the day, he was always fractionally quieter than he was the day before. At first it was unnoticeable but now...it was several weeks now after Loren had come to the house. And he knew he wouldn't last like this. Something had to change.
Luckily for Loren, the boy had slipped back into his room before Matt had finally dragged himself out of his room. Unfortunately, while Matt would have just walked out of the hall, down the stairs and out the door of the virtually empty house to go for a round of solitary basketball, there was a soft clink that sounded. Recalling what made that very sound--a bracelet of his with the words "Friends" on it--Matt clenched his teeth and those normally light eyes turned near stone-gray.
Loren.
Loren, Loren, Loren.
Loren was the first person Matt thought of when he woke up in the mornings and was the last person he thought of when he went to bed. He wasn't even left alone by the little Blue-Eyes in his dreams. He just couldn't get that b*****d out of his mind and now just when he'd decided to do some mindless little task to distract himself from the matter as a whole, he figured it was just his luck to get another reminder slapped in his face. A reminder of what he once had, but could no longer have? Sure, he broke all sterotypes...but he also had a reputation that he didn't want to break. That tough-guy act kept a lot of people away, stopped them from prying too much into his personal life. And that meant that he couldn't be seen hanging around Loren even if he wanted to. And though a part of him wanted that, there was a bigger part that refused. At least, not until those feelings of his disappeared from within him. Not until everything he thought and did didn't revolve around Loren. Hell, even that charm he'd just made was created with Loren in mind. There were lots of those that he'd made over the years meant for their bracelets. All the time, he'd tried to make something that had no relation to Loren, but somehow his mind would add a subtle touch of the blue-eyed devil in there. It said something about him that he didn't care for. It meant that he loved Loren more than ever. And he wished to hell and back that he could ditch the damn feelings. But he couldn't. He'd tried that. He'd hurt Loren in any way he could. And it still didn't work.
He made figurines, but most of the times he'd made charms. Not because he was girly and wanted charms, but because a part of his mind always went back to anything relating to Loren. He still had that damn bracelet tucked away somewhere and couldn't ever get the nerve to throw it out or have someone else throw it out. His parents wouldn't either if he had it laying around because they thought the two were still best of friends. Oh well. Worked better for him. What they didn't know couldn't hurt them. And since the two were always busy with their jobs during the weekdays for most of the day, he had always been allowed to bring over people and have his way with them. Now he had Loren in the house. He would still bring people over, have as much fun as he wanted. He wanted to know if that too could hurt Loren. Maybe even bring over a friend, since Loren was doubly more religious than he would ever be. But Matt just didn't want to--couldn't bear to--see Loren's face when he hurt him that way. Didn't want to see those blue-blue eyes fill up with tears. That, would practically kill him to witness. So he went out a lot. Slept over a lot. Yesterday was one of the few days he had gotten home, hung out at home in his workshop (in a room that had the semi-thick curtains drawn and all the lights off but the one at his workshop-table with music playing in the background softly when he worked)--even managed to find time to play the piano, since he never played with Loren around. He'd slept at home, the whole she'bang. The only problem was that he forgot the parents had an early morning, all day event today for the Church. Only now remembered that his parents told him to use the time to talk, catch up, since the two pretended not to have any classes together, even though there were indeed one or two.
So what to do on a Saturday morning--he'd risen earlier than he'd ever planned because of all of Loren's shuffling--alone without any parents and just the two of them, Loren and himself?
Well, it was time to find out and go with the flow.
He stalked into Loren's room, saw the pageful of doodles, the unmoving pen in his still hands and those big-blue eyes staring into nothingness. Lost in thought, probably in the past just like he'd been only moments earlier. Saw the bracelet on his wrist. Saw the faint glimmer of wonder and pain in the Angel's blue eyes. Where had their relationship gone wrong? The answer's all too simple, Matt thought bitterly. When I fell in love with this little pretty-boy.
Quietly moving behind Loren, he leaned over till there was hardly and distance between their two bodies, despite the chair's interference and whispered, "Hello, baby brother." Placing one hand, then the other around Loren, on the edge of the desk and trapping him between long well-toned arms (which were more pale than they had been due to his relaxation methods of carving away for hours in his closed room), he smiled with a glimmer of twisted laughter in his eyes. "Our parents will be out all day. They proposed we catch up. Get to know each other again." With a soft chuckle, he asked, "So what shall we do, with the house all to ourselves?"
He'd had female and male lovers before. Everyone knew he didn't care about flirting or having sex with either gender. But it was a fact kept away from anyone that might squeal on him to his parents--even though they wouldn't believe the 'rumors' about their precious, one-and-only son. That included Loren, and so Matt personally wondered how the other male would interpret his words. As a threat? Probably. He decided then that he was bored of terrifying his brother at home--it gave him no pleasure, and he so wanted to be pleased today. To relax. To joke around with anyone around--in his own damn house--and laugh. Since Loren was the only one there today... He lifted his arms with his hands playfully up, an innocent smile on his face as he said without a single trace of the weariness he felt in his entire being, "I won't do anything, I swear." He laughed and thought, At least, not for today. He moved around in the room, which was now plainly but decently furnished and sat on the edge of Loren's bed. He leaned back onto his arms, as bare as ever with the faint scent of wood-dust on his body and pure tobacco--which was much healthier and smelled sweet and wondrous even to non-smokers--lingering on his breath. "So what 'cha drawing?"
His body seemed composed and relaxed, and his hair had a nice shine of black. Those gray eyes, though Matt--no, Shay--didn't realize, were level and had lightened enough to even see the soft speckles of green. Of course, the sunlight streaming through Loren's bedroom window probably helped with the entire effect, but Matt was feeling great. It felt a lot like the days when Loren and Shay would hang out comfortably again. And with the sun warm on his body, he couldn't help but feel great--even if it wasn't that much sun and with a window acting as an interceptor and magnifier. Tilting his head back, closing his eyes, he let out a long sigh. Today should be interesting. And of course, Matt had not bothered to remember that that Saturday was his own birthday.
"Let's go downstairs and hunt for something to eat. I don't know about you, but I'm hungry--and I'm pretty sure you don't want me to ravage you." He had a playful glimmer in his eyes, which always brought out the green in that strange foggy-gray, and it had probably looked strange, that slight crooked smile and the laughter in Shay's eyes after so many years. This was the one thing Matt hadn't tried, of all the things he had to get rid of his restlessness. Hang with Loren the Loser. Now, officially his baby brother. Definitely interesting, he mused to himself.
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Posted: Sat Nov 14, 2009 9:32 pm
Still spacing out and thinking about everything but what was happening around him, he hadn't noticed the other had intruded into his room until they were fairly close to each other. Cerulean hues looked up and locked onto heather-gray ones, watching him carefully as if he were a deer about to be eaten by a lion; which, most of the time, he was.
He felt heat close in on him as the other's arms trapped him in his seat, in this little box of space that was made by Shay's body and his own desk in front of him. He was listening to his ex-best friend's words, but they were almost...distant. It took him a while to process what he was actually saying to him, and when he had understood he just looked at the other as if it were another sick joke. Which it usually was. But it just wasn't this time around.
Had he been truly perverted like the other children in his high school, Loren would have guessed that Matthew was about to rape him or some other form of harassment. But he wasn't. All he did was smile that sweet smile that he hadn't seen in ages and made him trust the other. That laugh rung clearly in his mind, and it didn't seem to change even though all these years had passed; from the jungle-gym in their first-grade playground to the halls of their blasted secondary school, it was always, always the same.
"So what 'cha drawing?"
"Not anything, really..." Loren said softly. Well this was awkward. Not only had they stayed silent to each other for the majority of their lives, the person he was now chatting to [or rather, that was talking to him] was the one who constantly made his life a living hell at school. How was he supposed to be so relaxed and bubbly around the male? It wasn't as if --
Those eyes made him forget everything.
Turning a light pink after he had heard the words, he looked back at his paper. "I could make something for you, if you want..." Daring to look up at his brother again, he wasn't afraid, but rather suspicious. He couldn't be so trusting after all these years, and it wasn't surprising; after all, the one being strange wasn't him, but Matthew.
"Would you like me to make you waffles, Shay? It'll only take a little while. I remember seeing your mother's waffle-maker around the house somewhere too..." Shay. How long had it been since he had openly called the other that? It was almost strange to call the older male that name. He had wanted to call him that so badly when they had begun to drift apart, and the urge was always there, just...quieter. Dormant, almost. But he had guessed he got it riled up again, for now he had wanted to call the other that near-sacred and precious name all over again.
Standing up out of his chair, he left the picture where it was; there was a smaller, rather cute drawing of two boys at the bottom of the page, playing in a sandbox. It was rather well-drawn, obviously by the hands of someone who had drawn often. The two boys were smiling, making a giant mound. They were the only things, as if it had been cropped from a photograph. It was just them and the sandbox. For some reason, life had to have grown outside of that small little place of happiness.
It made one wonder what it would have been like if it didn't.
Walking out of his room, he looked back at the other, holding the door open for him. "Come on." He said softly, walking down the stairs. His pale hand lightly traced along the railing, letting the cool wood slide underneath his fingers. It was much like his old home. The staircase was, however, spiraled in his home....
Coming back to reality, he told himself not to think of such things as he walked into the kitchen, getting four eggs, the package of flour, a stick of butter, and the milk out as well as a bowl and a whisk. He sliced off some of the butter into a small bowl and put it in the microwave, heating it up as he looked back over to the ingredients on the table. Loren had learned to cook, clean, etc. after being home alone so much. He had transformed into somewhat of a wife. Although he refused to wear an apron.
Looking over at Shay, he noted that the other was staring at him....which was sort of awkward. Why was everything so awkward between them? They had to start smoothing things out....or was it himself that was making it all awkward? Matthew seemed to be trying to get along again with him. Why couldn't he just accept that and be happy? "Would you like to help?
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Posted: Wed Nov 18, 2009 6:38 pm
Loren appeared oblivious. To his surroundings that is. Which of course, at the time, included Matt. No surprise there...so long as it wasn't his Shay, why should he care where Matt was? But no. It still irritated him, considering he all but staked a burn mark with his own initials on Loren's body. Hell, he'd even thought about marking him in a different way than with hot iron. It involved a different heat. A heat that burned within the body, just under the skin. That sort of sultry, sexual heat that arose in Matt's unruly body all the time. Unfortunately for Matt, he could have all the sex he wanted and still never feel satisfied—despite the exhaustion his body felt. So when he went and pinned Loren between himself and the desk in front of him, he'd expected his own body to flare up. No surprise, it did, particularly as he got a good whiff of the boy's newly showered skin. Man! That natural sort of allure that came off people in general...that was so much better than all the perfume and cologne anyone could plaster onto themselves. All the make-up in the world wouldn't hide true ugliness to him and only dimmed the traces of beauty in those who actually possessed it. It was why he liked males a lot of the times. They never needed cologne unless they were trying to attract those artificial or materialistic females. Give them the sense of high class superiority from the rich smell. No matter how cheap or expensive it smelled though, it would always be too artificial for Matt's taste. It was why all those who surrounded him and called themselves his best friends—in a way—weren't very important to him. If they wanted fake things, materialistic things, they could get it the hard way. Matt himself did too, since his parents were too-generous with strangers and scourges to family. It was also why he loved Loren. All natural, especially after a nice long shower.
When Loren turned and looked up, matching his eyes with a strange sort of stare, a small flare of anger and irritation burst inside of him. Why was Loren staring at him with the look of a trapped prey? With all that cautiousness and that underlaying current of terror in his expressions? Though Matt could feel his body wanting to get closer, take in the scent longer, deeper, he also couldn't help but feel as if he were slapped. The emotional sting hurt, his own anger only amplifying the feelings smoldering just beneath the surface. The pain, the lust. Such a look was to be earned. Considering Matt always lived in the present—doing whatever he so wished at any given moment—he couldn't comprehend why he'd earned that look now. Sure, at school they were always fighting. Rather, Matt was always picking on Loren. And yeah, he'd even admit that at home he tried to keep his distance, if only because he didn't want to let anyone in—his time alone was meant to stay forever alone. But this time, he was just watched with those big-blue eyes full of suspicion. It practically asked him, 'What are you going to do to me this time?' It asked him, 'What are you planning on doing now?'
The hate welled up at that time as well, even though Matt kept it clean off his face. Hatred towards Loren for being so damned innocent. For being so damned gentle, fragile, so easily hurt. For being so damn blind and ignorant towards love; his love for this too-gentle, too-blue-eyed boy. But also towards himself because he couldn't watch anyone take him away. Instead of protecting him, he pushed any and all of those who acted meek and stayed quiet—anyone who reminded Matt of Loren. That innocence that he always treasured...though he didn't want anyone else to have it, he didn't want to kill it either. And from the looks of it, he had. s**t. I ******** up real well this time. Cursing himself, he only kept staring into Loren's eyes, that brilliant smile losing a bit of its edge and genuineness. Wore off a little, seemed like a sunny day with a sudden gloomy cast of gray from some stray cloud. It was only for a fraction of a second, before he recovered, pushed away his thoughts and asked his aimless question. He had eyes to see what the hell Loren was drawing. He wasn't blind. But he had to ask the dumb-a** question anyways. Nothing better to talk about. Nothing more to say. And yet, as strange as this entire situation was, he wanted there to be something. Anything.
Hearing Loren's soft voice speak up, he smiled. Soft, quiet. It was a normal encounter. It reminded him of the days when there wasn't anything but pure friendship between the two. And now there was the love. Shitty thing couldn't just leave him be, but had to stick with him like some weed that would never let go. Would never give up, die, even wilt. Kept standing strong. Only only grew stronger, feeding on every emotion, every part of him. Like it was sucking away who he was, what he loved. All his passions for anything else was being drawn out of him and poured into his love for Loren. It was disgusting. It was why he kept bullying the blue-eyed devil.
Then, there was a strange look of nostalgia in Loren's eyes—at first, Matt took it as a reflection of his own—and realized they were not his, but Loren's. Just like his heart. Even his own damn heart wasn't his own to rule, but somewhere along the way, it'd become Loren's. Probably when he tried to drop his heart, ditch it, become a heartless b*****d—get rid of the foul thing at the source. That emotion called Love? If it originated in him, then might as well toss the heart—that's what Matt thought. It felt as if Loren had somewhere along the way picked it up, that cast off heart, without even knowing and kept it safe in some box and forgotten it. Who the hell knew. But that's what if felt like. Like it wasn't his, just like Loren wasn't. Like Loren never will be.
Hearing his once-friend look up, stare at him and then blush, he passed it off as just because of their closeness. The fact that he was still in the room, staring, talking to his new “lil bro”. Hearing his brother offer to make something, Matt wondered if he even cared about food at that point. It was healthy for him to eat in the morning. Besides, he'd gotten awful thin as of late. He continued to practice, work on his muscles and training...but he wasn't ever in enough of an appetite to account for the calories he burned. Always, he'd eat less than he needed and each day he seemed leaner and leaner.
That's when he heard it. That name. That one name no one had heard for years, especially the object of the conversation himself. Shay...Sarcastically, he thought that Loren was just a little too damned innocent. Maybe not even for his own good. Deciding to enlighten him, he smiled again. That'd be interesting. But no. Not yet. He wouldn't get to hang out. It was better to save it for a better timing regardless. So, Matt put the thought away into the back of his mind to draw out later. Instead, for the moment he replied simply, “Yeah, Mother had it around someplace in the kitchen. You know how much she bounces all over this district. Gotta be a good little soul, be the model Christian in our Church.” A Church he hadn't attended since he was was little.
In his mind, he concocted a new way to torture his new little bro. A different way. After all, things were different between them now. Though the fundamental aspects hadn't changed, the playing rules had. He still wasn't allowed to be with Loren for thousands of reasons, new reasons including that they were now officially brothers—not that anyone knew at school. Hell, Matt had even made excuses (excuses that he made true on) to leave for school early. Practice his shooting in the basketball court. Do anything to get out early and never have the timings be at all similar. And Matt was always a fairly early riser regardless, unlike Loren. It was why he figured it would work. It did. Thus far. But now...maybe he could make sure no one takes Loren with a different excuse. A more intimate excuse. One where he could still claim the boy, make good on his “promise” with his parents to get along better with Loren, and even still keep the boy away. The way he saw it, the more he hurt Loren—the source and cause of his feelings—the more those emotions of love might become blackened, embittered. So far, hadn't worked. But maybe it was the wrong approach. Taking a more direct way to kill his emotions, he decided he'd do something cruel to everyone and finish those foul feelings of love with one blow. But for that to happen, he'd have to wait. Patience was a virtue, one he was going to have to work for—considering Matt was filled with more Sin than Virtue than anyone else in the area for miles.
He got up and forced his body to calm itself and follow Loren. His impatience acted up and he wanted to do something...but his entire plans would fall apart and possibly be ruined if he ******** this up now. This was his last shot at getting what he wanted, one way or another. Matt shoved his hands into his pockets, one hand moving through his smooth length of black hair, smelling of wood and man. No surprise considering he'd worked out yesterday too. Just, at home rather than in the park with friends. Looking up, he imagined Loren in something less than he was wearing. The pretty-boy was very comely and even acted like a house-wife...what if he wore only an apron? He shook the thought away, laughing under his breath. Nah, Loren would never do that—but it did give rise to an interesting thought for Matt. What if he forced Loren into one? A new way he could ridicule the boy. Let him wake up in that. Oh how many pranks he could pull. Already, he felt the restlessness unravel from the tight knot it had been inside of him. And it hit him. Realizing he could just vent out through pranks—and how he loved to pull pranks on others—it was also another way Matt might just get revenge for Loren's obliviousness. He wasn't quite as dense as his own parents, but that boy nearly rivaled them for the Dense-ness award. He had a small and subtle smile, just staring at the boy, contemplating everything he could do. From the most amateurish prank to the most radical ones, he thought of them all and began planning the ones he'd use first, and when, where, how he'd accomplish them all. He was already feeling in a better mood. And his appetite was whetted for not just food, but maybe even a little something more too. He licked his lips, slowly, seductively, and murmured as response, “Yeah, I'd to help...” Gliding in closer, he all but had his body touching Loren, letting his body feel the heat and tension just between them, and murmured, “Help myself to a serving of you're...waffles.” He'd meant to say 'tight little a**', but he figured it was too much for Loren, the good little Church-goer to handle at once. Particularly with his ex-best friend all of a sudden talking to him as well. He'd continued that soft, almost suggestive tone up until the word waffles. Then, after trailing off a bit, he'd lightened up his tone to a more natural one and continued. Better to refrain himself a little and get more fun out of this in the long run than get it all at once in one great moment.
This'll be fun... he thought, without bothering to speak aloud his dark and secretive intentions to his innocent little brother. At least...not yet.
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Posted: Mon Nov 23, 2009 8:32 pm
Loren's mind was at the farthest point from the gutter, and he seemed to ignore the fact entirely of the small points of closeness and suggestive gestures and words; he was off in his own world, practically. "Can you put in three cups of flour and a tablespoon of sugar? Mix them together and then give it to me when you're done." Giving him the bag and the measuring spoons, he worked on his own half, which was the liquid; four eggs and a cup of milk as well as a teaspoon of vanilla.
Using the whisk, when he was finished and Shay was as well he mixed their bowls together, then got the the mixer, putting it in the bowl of combined ingredients and letting the machine do what it was meant to. After it had turned into a nice, sloppy batter, he got off the rest of it that was stuck on the machine and plugged the cooker in. "You can sit down now, if you'd like." He mentioned before going back to work. While it was warming he got out two plates and a fork and a knife for each of them. He got two glasses and left them out, leaving them for later.
Pouring the batter in, he closed it and waited for the waffles to cook. He tied back his short hair [or, rather, as much as he could tie back] and got back to work.
Loren felt a pair of eyes on him, but assured himself he was imagining it. There was no way Shay would be staring at him....but just out of the corner of his eye as he bent over to pick up a fallen spoon, he swore he saw the other staring at his a**. His face immediately flushed a deep beet red.
Ignoring what he had just saw, he continued with his work. Opening the cooker he found the waffles a golden brown, cooked almost perfectly while he was off blushing like mad. Walking over to Matthew's plate, he scooped the four in and poured in more batter, not knowing how he could face the other after he had just witnessed what the other was looking at. Hell... He could feel his own knees rubbing against each other as he squirmed.
Going back to the table he set the plate down and avoided eye-contact, there still being a faint red dusting over his cheeks. Getting out the syrup, orange juice and milk carton, he set them on the table as he got out the next batch. There was still more for another six or eight..."How many are you going to eat? I might have a lot extra if we can't finish it all." He hated wasting food especially, and he'd rather just have the batter left than the waffles....mostly because they tended to get hard.
Oh god,....he felt those eyes again.
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Posted: Wed Nov 25, 2009 10:31 pm
Clearly not really minding what his body language was telling him, Loren seemed distant and focusing on something that wasn't him. It made Matt believe he'd back off...for now. He'd get the boy later, since the two of them had all day. And now that he'd thought about it, Matt realized he probably was a bit sexually frustrated too—considering he'd brought over a girl only twice since Loren came. And that was a few weeks ago. Now? He hadn't so much had a hot word whispered into his ear, a seductive suggestion uttered to him or even from himself. Definitely sexually frustrated.
Perhaps he'd alleviate two of his problems. Let his brother in on a secret that he'd held since they were little and get something more physical too.
Matt watched the boy, taking his mind off his lustful hopes, he actually managed to relax well enough to get along as if there hadn't been much of a time and personal interference over the years between the pair of boys. His irritation did peak however, when he heard Loren suggest he just sit down and wait for his own food. He was able to fend for himself! Then the thought that this was very wife-like behavior calmed his growing ire and almost meekly he sat, watching from his seat.
Watching, Shay could sense that Loren was getting more and more aggitated and he wondered why. He wondered why and just happened to notice now that as he got lost in his own mind, he had been staring at Loren's shapely a**. It was worth looking at—but he hadn't been at that given time. Whoops?
He looked away only to notice in the corner of his eyes that Loren was starting to squirm. Interesting, the other male noted. He was tempted to stand up and start feeling his lil bro up a bit. Give his brother a real reason to squirm. Maybe even get Loren to beg like he'd made a few other males beg before. Only (internally) laughing as he saw the heated cheeks flare with color, he watched with a faint smile on his lips. “I'll eat half of what you made,” and in Matt's mind, he finished off the thought with a more perverted possibility, ...and all of you.
He chuckled and then followed up on the temptation that was too sweet to resist.
Standing, he lethely moved behind the boy and whispered hotly in Loren's ear, “Nah, we can finish it. At the very least, I can. I can gobble it all right up.”
Chuckling, he patted his brother's shoulder. His ex-best friend. His brother. His possibly soon to be lover. Past, Present and Future. That day would have a lot in store for little Loren, good or bad.
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Posted: Sun Nov 29, 2009 8:05 pm
[[Posting tomorrow : ) ]]
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Posted: Thu Dec 10, 2009 8:53 pm
[OMG FINALLY D:]]
Nodding, he tried his best to keep calm and just breathe a bit. But it obviously didn't cut it, for as son as Shay had moved back behind him and started whispering words he could take a certain other, sweeter direction, he began to feel weak again. "A-Ah....I see..." He stood straight, alert like an animal being hunted. He both loved and hated this feeling; if he pointed it out and it wasn't really there, what would his ex-best friend do? They had just begun to speak again, and he didn't want to ruin it.
The next batch arrived quicker than he expected -- time flies when you're being debatably, sexually harassed by your old friend -- and a few more waffles were placed down. He'd make the last batch now. "You can start eating." he said in a desperate attempt to get the other out from behind him. He didn't necessarily like people breathing steamy things in his ear.
Okay, maybe he did. But not now when he wasn't sure it was coincidental or purpose.
Why was Shay doing all of this? The question creeped further and further into his mind. And he zoned a little too long -- opening the waffle maker in a hurry, two of them had blackened edges. Giving his brother the other two [that were actually a golden-brown and rather tasty looking] he took the blackened ones and scraped off the burnt pieces before returning to his seat with a sigh.
And...then Loren prayed before he ate. Another reason kids at school didn't like him. Freshman year when he did that, people would ask if he was okay or not. If he needed to go see the nurse. They understood when he explained it to them, but rumors were easy to hear; how he was a Jesus-freak for praying in public? Muslims wore their shawls, why couldn't Christians pray?
Eventually sitting up straight, he first poured himself a glass of milk in case Shay wanted to get the syrup first. He always did when they were children, and sometimes they would both go for it. Which ended in rock paper scissors; sometimes Loren would win but still give it to Shay....
Coming back to reality, he stopped his milk from pouring right over the brim and frowned. Screwing the cap of the carton back on, he set it on the table and sipped the white creamy liquid in an attempt to make it more bearable than anything. He felt rather silly.
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