Thirty
Avory
“Have I got everything?”
Marcus mumbles to himself as he darts around the flat, frantically shoving his phone and keys into a satchel bag with one hand, and spritzing his neck and shirt with a salty, oak cologne with the other. “Hey A, do you think I look alright?”
I force myself to rise from my slumped state on the sofa, my notepad and pen falling and rolling across the floor. I reach under the sofa to save them, just to add them to the ever-growing stack of unused lyrics flurried across the coffee table.
I need a distraction from him. I miss him so goddamn much.
He stretches his arms out and spins on the ball of his foot as I eye him from foot to head. Black, scuffed boots to match his black skinny jeans with rips across the knees, a khaki green shirt buttoned enough to tease his built chest, one of my silver chains around his neck. I fold my arms and begin to tut, because if anything is going to somehow correct my mood, it’ll be poking fun at a flustered Marcus since he saw how gorgeous our manager is.
I meet his clean shaven and moisturised face, his eyes appearing bright, and his hair slicked back.
“Handsome as all hell.”
“Now you know where you get it from.”
He winks at me as I roll my eyes, and I can’t help but hug him. He wraps his big arms around me as he speaks. “Are you sure you don’t want to come with? It might do you some good to get out of the house.”
I consider it. I really do. I just know that being with the person who is finally making our dream a reality, will serve as a constant reminder of him, the amazing man who I’m leaving behind. I shake my head into his shoulder.
“You don’t need this mope tarnishing the Bright Lights image, I’ll meet her soon. Besides, who brings their kid on a date?”
I teasingly pull myself away, which quickly changes into throwing myself over the back of the sofa and bouncing off the cushions as Marcus is determined for some form of payback. His hand ends up landing in my hair and ruffling it side to side, turning my already manic waves into an entire tsunami of hair.
“It’s not a date; it’s a business meeting! However, I can’t guarantee what time I’ll be home since this business meeting apparently include pub crawls.”
As I laugh and sink back against the sofa arm, my knees tucked to my chest, Marcus’ hand lands on my shoulder.
“Seriously Avory, consider my offer from earlier. You seriously care about him, he seriously cares about you, and Rae said she could make it work.”
I nod as Marcus kisses the top of my head before waving goodbye for the evening. The click of our front door forces me to face something I have been trying my hardest to avoid. It is only me, my burrowing thoughts of Sawyer, Gwen’s visit, Marcus’ offer, and the lashing rain which pelts against the windows.
No, I don’t need to face it if I distract myself. Once we’re out of this town, I won’t be reminded of him all the time. If I distract myself, I won’t close my eyes, roll my head back and think about the last time my lips connected with his. I won’t imagine the tone of his voice which always reminds me of a cabin fireplace, so warm and comforting. I won’t imagine his constellation of freckles scattered across his caramel skin which I continuously dream of counting and kissing.
How much further can I spiral into this denial, I wonder.
My palms wipe across my face as I force myself to sit up and take hold of my guitar. As I sift through the papers and notebooks scattered, my abundance of random lyrics and phrases, I find something I don’t even remember writing.
If your heart ever were to break, I’d smash mine along these concrete cobbles in the hopes that my shards of crimson glass could somehow piece yours back together. If yours continues to beat its harmonious tune which provides me a reason to wake up each day, then I will tread amongst my shards while baring my pale flesh. The shards cause me no pain when I know that you are awaiting me on the other side.
These aren’t lyrics, because apparently, I thought I was a poet for a day, but I can do something with this. I begin to strum, the holding of chords bringing a tension to my fingers and giving me something else to focus on. As I begin to transition from chord to chord, I discover a tune which screams hopelessly in love, and I can’t do anything about it. My hands jump from the strings to my pen as I begin to scribble down the chords, and once the rhythm becomes natural to my hands, I attempt to pair it with some lyrics. Within minutes, a symphony of grunts followed by curses bounce off the walls since I cannot get these goddamn lyrics to fit with these goddamn chords and it’s all too goddamn much. How this guitar is still in my hands and not halfway across the room, I’ll never know. Slowly, I begin to strum again, the rhythm feeling natural again as I pinch my pick between my fingers.
Knock, knock, knock.
A distant beat emerges, and it somehow fits perfectly with the tune I’m strumming. I begin to tap my foot with the same tempo as the previous knocking from wherever, and somehow, the knocking responds. Can someone hear me? I lay my guitar on the coffee table and wait in silence, awaiting the knocking to appear once more. Instead, the deep knocking changes itself into some sort of grating, high pitched tapping, coming from the living room window. It keeps appearing, no rhythm at all this time, the clinking against the glass filling the flat. As I approach the window, piles of stones have collected themselves on the window ledge. I unlock the window and lean out, the hammering rain already beginning to dampen my face,
“Avory! Hey! I hope I haven’t damaged your window!”
I know that voice. A cabin’s fireplace. Suddenly, the rain is no longer freezing as my eyes land on him. Even from this distance, I can see the rain dripping through his brunette curls, over his glasses, from his chin. His clothes cling to his slim frame as they soak even further from the pelting rain, which slowly makes it harder and harder to see him. I’m not losing him again.
“Sawyer! Hold on!”
I scramble to lock the window again before running out the front door, down the stairs and having to catch myself from falling face first, and to the shop’s front door. As I fumble with the lock, his emerald eyes watch me from the other side of the door. A soft, relaxing smile sits on his face, and suddenly, my mind has never felt clearer. The twinkle of the door’s bell is quickly muted by the crashing rain against the growing puddles and the cobbled paths, but everything is background noise as he speaks.
“Hey you, can we talk?”
Instinctively, my hands reach for his waist and pull him into the shop, locking the door as a puddle begins to form underneath him. I couldn’t care less about his soaked clothes as I pull him towards me, my arms wrapping around him tight as if he will crumble if I don’t hold him together. His arms snake their way around my neck and in this moment, everything feels okay. His floral cologne, mixing with the natural smell of the rain which has drenched him, lingers in my nose, and everything feels okay. As if I could feel every individual swirl of his fingerprints through the thin fabric of my t-shirt and tattooing themselves onto my skin, everything feels more than okay.
As much as I relent, Sawyer pulls away and attempts to wipe his glasses clean of drips with his soaked sleeve.
“Sawyer, please come upstairs. We need to get you out of these clothes.”
As Sawyer’s eyes widen at my hasty comment, I stumble to correct myself. “I don’t want you to be sat in soaked clothes and to get sick, I mean!”
Sawyer laughs and a simmering fire begins to build in my core. There he is. My Sawyer, who hides behind his hands when he laughs, yet I wish he’d display his beautiful, toothy smile to the world because it pushes his cheeks up, causing delicate lines to form under his eyes.
I offer my hand out to Sawyer, because as much as I want to grab him, I still don’t know why he’s here. I think back to Gwen’s visit in the hopes it would help me to understand, but I can’t focus on anything as his fingers intertwine with mine, and the softness of his skin causes my breath to stick in my throat.
I guide Sawyer upstairs, only now realising that this is the first time Sawyer is seeing where we live, and quietly thanking Marcus and myself for cleaning as we’ve been packing. I lead Sawyer in, and his hand glides out of mine as he gazes around, slowly spinning around, his shoes clicking against the floorboards.
After taking in our small space, he turns to face me with a relaxed expression.
“Avory, I didn’t bring anything with me. I kind of legged it out of the flat once Gwen told me about what she did, I didn’t really think past seeing you.”
“You can wear my things, if that’s okay? But you can’t keep creating puddles whenever you stand somewhere,”
I laugh as I stroll through to my room and begin to dig through the remaining clothes I have which aren’t packed.
I throw a pair of black, fabric shorts onto the bed, followed by a t-shirt and as I continue to dig for something to warm him up, Sawyer leans on the door frame, his arms held to his chest as he gazes around once again. I finally find the baggiest plain black hoodie I own, and I bring the now folded pile to Sawyer.
“Hey, if these are okay, then you can borrow these, and I can get your wet clothes on the radiators.”
Sawyer smiles again, so soft and easy, as he nods. I can’t help myself. My hands graze the sides of his neck, and my thumb rubs against his jaw. My eyes meet his and his lips part slightly, enough that I can feel his warm breath against my lips and it’s all too much, but in the best possible way. As I lean forward to finally press my lips against his again and to feel him soothe these racing thoughts, I feel us begin to replay a familiar scene. Two of Sawyer’s fingers rest on my lips, creating a wall between us. I pull away and my eyebrows furrow.
“I need to talk to you first,”
he whispers, yet it doesn’t feel like he wants to wait as his fingers drop, opening the space between us once again and his eyes remain on my lips for seconds before accepting my pile of clothes.
I offer my room and the bathroom to Sawyer to freshen up as I sit on the sofa, my leg bouncing at a rapid rate. I begin chewing on my pinkie nail – I’ve never done that before. I immediately stop when black nail polish flakes on my tongue and I grimace at the taste before wiping my tongue on the closest tissue I could find. My mind races at what he could want to talk about, but I can’t imagine a worse ending to this than the last time I saw him, especially with Marcus’ offer still in the air.
My bedroom door creaks open, and I raise to my feet instantly as if I’m required to stand to attention. A specific part of me begins to as Sawyer emerges sheepishly, and I can’t help but take all of him in. My eyes trail from his trainer socks, up his legs dotted with freckles and lighter hair than I’d imagined, the hem of my hoodie which rests above his knees and hides most of the shorts underneath, and eventually my eyes land on everything I’m familiar with.
I swallow as I feel my skin growing hot, having to avert my eyes from him at moments when it all feels too much, yet I never thought someone’s beauty could be too much to handle.
Sawyer’s cheeks are the brightest I’ve ever seen them as he speaks. “Thank you for letting me borrow these. Is it weird if I say they are comforting to wear?”
“Do you mean comfortable?”
“No, comforting. You are comforting, Avory.”
I feel my chest tighten at his words and I need to change the subject, but I also need to hear him out and I can’t stop myself.
“Um, Sawyer, do you want a hot drink? I really don’t want you to fall ill.”
Sawyer shakes his head and laughs quietly behind his sleeves, and I honestly think he’s trying to kill me at this point. Sawyer silently asks to sit on the sofa, and I nod as he plants himself in the same spot I was slouched in before. He tucks his legs up to his chest and if I could photograph him, I would squeeze him into a photo strip which would sit in my phone case. He just looks effortless.
I exhale in a feeble attempt to calm myself as I sit on the other side, both gazing at each other in the silence.
“Can we just stay here?”
I whisper what was meant to only be for my thoughts.
“That’s what I want to talk to you about.”
I fold my legs under myself as I sit up and give my full attention to Sawyer, instead of the abundance of thoughts that are rushing through my mind. He needs this, deserves this, he deserves to be listened to more than anyone. His voice has been silenced by everyone who was meant to love him, by the people that we are taught from such a young age will love us regardless of who we are, he needs this more than anyone.
My lips never part as Sawyer tells me everything Gwen had only scratched the surface of. As he talks, I can’t help but notice the welling of tears collecting near his eyelashes, and how does he even make crying beautiful? Even so, I do not react, because he needs to say this, and I need to hear him. His eyes never leave me throughout, even if I looked away to hide my own emotional reaction. Sawyer has never seemed so confident and authentic.
“Avory, I don’t know how to say this, but—”
He ponders on his words, and I can see the way he thinks. The way his eyes dance back and forth as if he’s reading a corkboard with red strings and pins, all pointing to his answer.
“I don’t want us to be a ‘what if’. I don’t want to be left here once you guys have moved on, wondering what we could or couldn’t have been.”
In my mind, us not being together has never been an option, but it was something I had to admit defeat with before. Not anymore. Not with Marcus’ offer buzzing in my mind.
Sawyer swallows before he speaks. “Avory, if we won’t work, or if any part of you hesitates about us being together, then please tell me. I’ll leave at least with—”
My actions beat my words, but I believe my mind has been craving him all too much. I know that I need to tell him about Marcus’ offer, but just knowing that he wants this, us, and has hope for us, I can’t stop myself. My lips crash into his and he accepts me with surprise. A low hum from Sawyer tickles against my lips and I feel my joggers already beginning to tighten.
I force myself to pull away as my words escapes between breaths. “Sawyer, there is not an ending where I watch you walk out of that door. I want you; I want to be with you, I want you to want to be with me, and I want us together, as one, if you’ll have me, have us?”
Sawyer’s smile grows with every word which spills past my lips, until my words finish, and his mouth is locked with mine in an instant.
“I want us, Avory.”
His lips return to mine before I can even think alongside his hands crawling their way to resting on my chest, and I wouldn’t want it any other way. I only want to be in this moment with Sawyer, back in our world where we are the only people to exist, and I’m okay with that.
“I’ve missed you, Sawyer.”
The words fumble out of my mouth between our kisses, my hands slowly sliding across his waist.
“I’ve missed you so much, Avory.”
“I can’t believe everything you’ve done for yourself.”
I’m so proud of him, and I want him to know that, even if it is while we’re breathless between kisses and I’ve got a semi which will shortly be past the point of return.
“I’d do anything if it means being me with you.”
Sawyer’s hands travel from my chest, his fingers grazing along my collarbones until he’s stroking along my neck and up into my hair, his fingers tangling in my untamed waves. I feel my breath catching in my throat as I attempt to calm the fire burning inside, and all Sawyer is doing is fanning the flames.
“Sawyer, I want you.”
My words cause a higher hum than before to escape Sawyer’s lips as he edges himself closer to me, lifting his thigh over my lap as I relax back into the sofa. As Sawyer plants himself on my lap, I’m convinced he can feel how hot and hard he’s now gotten me by the tent that’s pitched in my joggers.
As his hips settle over me, my tongue flicks against his lips and he grants me full entrance, my tongue dancing with his. My hand reaches for the back of his neck, pulling him closer because I need to feel him, as much of him as I possibly can because I refuse to let him go, not like before. I want him to know that I love and desire every single part of him.
Sawyer’s hand travel to the hem of my shirt as he begins to pull up. “This, off, now.”
Sawyer’s demands are far too flustered and cute that I feel myself desperate for more. I want more of him struggling to string sentences together.
Sawyer lifts my shirt over my head as he briefly marvels at my muscular build, just like before. His fingertips begin to trace every dip and curve I have, his eyes fixating on my frame. Everything starts to slow down, Sawyer’s expression resting with a small smile and his eyes shining bright against the stormy grey weather pelting outside.
“My love, are you okay?”
My hand reaches for his cheek my thumb running across his soft, dotted skin.
His eyes meet mine as he presses against my palm. “Avory, I want more. I want you. I want to feel you.”
My breath catches in my lungs, my chest growing tight. I’ve been with men before, but not with someone I feel so close and connected to. I never loved any of those men.
“But I’ve never done any of this before. All of this is new to me, but I want you, I want to feel you.”
Those words. Those goddamn words cause my core to burn with want and need. I part my lips, trying to voice the absolute mess that this boy has created in my mind, but Sawyer begins to lower himself, his eyes never leaving mine. My hand moves from his cheek to his curls, tangling my fingers within his silky strands, as his lips float across the thin hairs along my stomach, planting delicate kisses across my abs and sides.
I manage to somehow choke up some words. “Sawyer, baby, are you sure?”
He stops, his lips tickling against my skin as he speaks. “Avory, I want to do this, just guide me if I do something wrong, please.”
He continues, each kiss causing a wave of heat to spread throughout my muscles and down to my groin.
The tension is becoming unbearable.
As he reaches the waistband of my joggers, he begins to stretch them over my hips and down my thighs as he signals for me to lift my body from the dip in the sofa. His knees prop himself up on the hard wood floors as he pulls the grey fabric over my ankles, tosses them to the side and… fuck, he looks so gorgeous on his knees, in my clothes.
As he brings his attention back to me and my fully stretched boxers, I feel my breathing quicken, and my chest burn. I struggle to stop my head from rolling back onto the sofa cushions and losing myself in Sawyer’s hands, lips and breath, but I also can’t look away. I can’t lose even a second of watching Sawyer learn and explore every part of me.
His fingers curl into the elastic of my boxers. “Avory, is this okay? Are you okay for me to touch you?”
“Yes, yes, Sawyer, please.”
My words fumble out of my mouth, breathless and raspy, and Sawyer’s smile grows wide at the state he’s already put me in.
As Sawyer tries to proceed, I cause him to stop with the sudden volume I cause. “Sawyer, I’m fine by the way. As in, I’ve tested recently. Have you ever…?”
He cocks his head as the shy barista that I had once known returns in his voice. “Once, in college. It was a whole safe sex month, and well, I’ve never been with anyone, so…”
He tugs at his bottom lip with his teeth before asking if I’m okay for him to carry on, and I nod, probably with too much enthusiasm. He pulls my damp boxers over my hardened member as I shuffle my knees to either side of Sawyer, the fabric resting around my ankles. As I lay here, watching Sawyer’s eyes running from my toes to my groin, across my build and to meet my hazy eyes, I realise my vulnerability. I am completely nude, as raw as it can be, and that this is the first time I’ve ever been in this position. I have never felt vulnerable before, yet Sawyer makes it feel okay, more than.
His lips begin to plant warm kisses on the inside of one thigh, while his hand travels up the other. His touch, from both his lips and fingertips, cause a tightening sensation to grow in my groin, precum already dripping from my tip, and I need him now. He clearly got that message from the breathy grunts which escape my lips, as his lips travel from my thigh to the base of my cock. My back arches ever so slightly at his warmth, which seems to install some confidence in his actions as his tongue stretches over his beautiful, full lips and presses against my base, slowly dragging himself to the tip. His tongue pulls off from me as a throaty groan flies from my lips, causing Sawyer’s to curl upward.
“Does this feel okay, my love?”
Huh. He’s never called me that before, but damn, I love it.
“Yes, yes baby, please, do what you can.”
I somehow string a sentence together as he continues to lather my length in his spit. Teasingly, he lingers his tongue against my slit, over and over, which earns him a moan through my bottom lip between my teeth.
“Baby—baby please, please—”
Sawyer pauses with his mouth open slightly, the wetness coating his lips and making them even more gorgeous than I could ever imagine. He nods twice, a small smile forming over his glossed lips as he licks up my length once more, then surrounds me with his plump lips.
Fuck.
My head is buried into the warmth of his mouth as he takes more and more of me slowly, a brief halt at times as Sawyer adjusts himself to my size.
“That’s—That’s it beautiful; you’re doing so-so good.”
I struggle to form words as deep exhales and moans continue to interrupt my thoughts, and my Sawyer seems to enjoy that a bit too much as his tongue dances against my length. Sawyer slowly opens his throat for me, and I struggle to believe that this is his first time doing this – he takes nearly all of me within a few motions.
His head begins a rhythm, bobbing himself up and down my cock and fuck, he’s going to have me over the edge if he continues for much longer. My hands tangle themselves in his curls, gently pulling and tugging as I guide his head up and down. Everything already begins to tighten, the boiling sensation growing immense, and as his tongue begins to swirl across my slit every time he reaches my tip, I gently pull him from me.
“Baby, fuck you make me feel so good, but I can’t finish here.”
His glistening eyes meet mine as two thin trails of saliva and precum trickle down his chin, a mischievous smile plastering his face.
“A-Avory, it felt so amazing to have you like that, so natural,”
Sawyer pants as he speaks. “But we don’t need Marcus stumbling in on us like this.”
His hands gesture to my naked state and the mess I created on his gorgeous face as a gentle chuckle escapes his lips.
I’m not done, I’m not ready to be done, and so long as he wants me still, then I’ll crave him always. I muster what strength I can give to my limbs as I pull myself up, my length hitting my stomach as I do so. I cup Sawyer’s chin and pull myself down to him, my lips meeting his and my taste which lingers on his tongue, teeth and lips. We remain this way for minutes before I pull away, resting my forehead briefly on his.
“I have a bedroom for a reason, my love”