thirty-two
“Wanna go slow. Wanna remember this.” - Callisto
My heart shatters at Leo's words. The realization of how true they are weighs heavily on every particle of air in the room, making it much harder to breathe. Leo's eyes are wide, a gunmetal gray that shoots me straight through the chest.
I was wrong about Leo’s eye color. They aren’t the color of guns.
They are the color of a rare gray diamond.
Leo’s eye color doesn’t mean violence, it means resilience.
He took all of the pressures that life put on him and turned into something rare and breathtaking.
Something so strong, it can cut glass, yet so beautiful, it could bring a grown man to his knees.
“Yeah. Okay. Yeah. If you’re sure,” I respond, nodding again, wanting to give Leo one last chance to change his mind.
All I can hear is Leo saying ‘I want to die with your cum in me’ over and over in my head.
It shouldn’t be hot. I shouldn’t be turned on by that idea.
I obviously don't want him to die, not even a tiny bit, but the notion is somehow romantic.
Dark and romantic, and I don’t hate how fucked up it actually is.
I will probably die today, too, and dying knowing that this is how I spent my last moments on Earth is somehow comforting.
“I’m sure. I wanna feel you, Princess. One last time, I wanna feel. I want to forget about what’s happening and what we’re about to do,” Leo says, his normally harsh voice softening.
I want to forget too, even if the only way to do it is to be bare inside of Leo.
I want to forget what’s coming, and doing this right now, forgetting for a moment, won’t change the outcome. So... fuck it.
“Okay,” is all I’m able to get out, and as soon as the agreement leaves my lips, Leo's hole tightens in response, reminding me that I am still three fingers deep inside of him.
I remove my fingers slowly, grabbing the lube.
I squeeze some into my hand, stroking my cock to get it nice and wet.
I hiss at the contact, wanting to keep going but also wanting to replace my hand with his heat.
“Callisto,” Leo groans impatiently.
Leo is so beautiful in the low light of the room, the bright paint on his chest standing out in harsh contrast against his pale skin.
I wanted to paint something beautiful on him, something that represented how I have come to see him.
I’ve been redesigning the image in my mind since that night in the shower, and this was my chance to finally do it justice.
“Okay, Leone,” I respond, tugging my cock one final time before I lean over Leo, lining myself up. I take a deep breath, then slowly push in. Leo moans loudly, hands gripping my neck to bring me down into a punishing kiss, some of the still-wet paint smearing between us.
I can barely concentrate on kissing him back because my cock feels like it is seconds away from being seared off by the sun.
I have found the source of heat that keeps me alive, but I don't know if I will actually survive this.
I need more, but at the same time, I don't know how much more I can take.
I keep pushing in until I am buried deep in the sun, sacrificing myself to whatever god is ruled by it.
“Fuck. Callisto. So big. Fuck,” Leo murmurs against my kiss-bruised lips, his breath feeling like a warm summer breeze.
I try to keep my body still, allowing him to adjust to the feeling, but he has other plans.
He pushes his heels into the back of my thighs, using them as leverage to buck up and force me deeper.
We both let out a moan, his low and deep while mine is high-pitched, on the verge of a whine.
“Oh fuck.” I’m already losing myself in Leo's heat. I am tired of having a filter. I want to be myself, to know who I am. I know exactly who I am when I’m with Leo. He brings out the best and worst in me. He makes me question who I thought I was, and who I’ll become.
People aren’t one moment in time. They are made up of thousands of moments and experiences, each one shaping who they are and who they were. Who I was last week is completely different from who I am this week. If I survive today, then next week I will change again. I am fluid.
“Feels so good. Need it. Please. Need to feel alive.”
Leo’s voice is barely above a whisper, murmuring the words like a confession.
The atmosphere in the room changes with it, the simple sentences holding so much weight; it coats the air around us with lead.
My heart aches and I can’t breathe. He has chosen to be with me in what could very well be his last moments of life.
I will see that we both survive. I will do everything in my power to make sure Leo will survive the next few hours. I will do whatever it takes.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” I say because I lack anything else in my mind except wanting to see this beautiful person alive and thriving.
He is under me but wraps around my body like sun rays on a warm summer day.
I slow down the movement of my hips, wanting this moment to last forever.
It’s hard. My instinct is to pound into him, no barrier between us, but I can’t.
I need to take this slow. I want to slowly bring his body to life.
“Faster,” Leo growls, and I shake my head.
When he looks offended, I repeat the motion, using my arms to prop myself up a bit.
His eyes are dark, his lips the loveliest shade of pink I have ever seen.
His painted chest heaves, the rays I had painted there reaching for me with every breath but not quite touching me.
I don't need the sun's rays, though, I am touching its surface, the tight heat gripping my cock like a vice.
“Wanna go slow. Wanna remember this,” I respond, bending my arms to kiss him again.
I swallow his moans as I continue the slow grind of my hips.
I don't know how much longer I will last.
I am acutely aware of the minutes slipping by each tick of the second hand on the clock bearing down on us with every pass it makes around the face.
Maybe time is a living thing. I don't know how much longer we have, but at least we are together for it.
“I’ll never forget, Callisto. I promise. I will never forget you. I’ll never forget this. If I die, heaven will be living in this day forever.”
Leo grips my arms so tightly, I’m sure it will bruise.
I don't care. I want it to bruise because that will give me something to remember him by.
They will fade, though. Bruises always fade, and I already hate them for that.
I don't want my memories of this past week to fade, too.
I refuse to let them. I don't know how to stop any of this.
“Non morirai. Please stop saying that. You won’t die. We will survive. You will survive. You’re so strong. You’ll survive this like you’ve survived everything else,” I insist, my heart breaking when his eyes grow shiny with unshed tears.
“I’m not scared to die. Please. Callisto. Keep going. Fuck. It feels so good. Please,” Leo begs, and I can’t deny him.
I keep grinding into him, each subtle thrust hurtling me closer to the edge.
I try to fight it. I try to fight time, but it’s a losing battle.
I am going to come soon, and this moment will be gone forever, stolen from us by the hands of time itself.
“I’m close,” I say, through gritted teeth, the feeling of Leo around me both not enough yet too much. At my words, Leo's hole tightens almost as if the admission brings him closer to his own edge.
“Fuck.” The word is ripped from my throat as the cum is pulled from my cock.
I topple over the edge of a cliff, into dark oblivion where I can forget about the seconds that are ticking by.
I have never come bare in anyone before, but it almost feels like it alters my life in some small way.
I gave this to Leo. I would give him everything.
After I finish, I don't give myself a moment to come down. I quickly and carefully pull out of him.
“What are you…?” Leo asks, gray eyes wide and confused.
“Wanna taste you. Wanna go with your cum in me, too.” I reposition myself on the bed between his legs. I haven't ever given a blowjob before. Well, not for longer than a few seconds and certainly not long enough for someone to finish in my mouth.
I have only ever tasted cum twice. Once was my own, coating Leo's lips and tongue.
The second time was that little taste the day Leo had come on my face, but it wasn’t enough.
I want more. I wish I would have done more that day, but I was still too caught up in who I thought I was supposed to be.
Now, though, now, I want to swallow Leo. I want a part of him inside me, too.
“You don’t have to…” Leo's voice chokes off because I waste no time taking him deep.
I can already taste the salty tang from the precum his cock has produced.
He moans again, his hips subtly bucking up into my mouth.
I glance down at his stretched hole, seeing my own cum leaking out of it.
I refuse to let that happen, so I slowly slide two fingers inside.
“Holy fuck, Callisto. Oh shit,” Leo screams, and my limp cock twitches at the sound.
I hum, taking him deeper as I crook my fingers.
After a few attempts, I find his spot, his legs twitching around me.
I thrust my fingers in as I pull away from his cock, and he is obviously unsure of which sensation to chase.
I love it. I love reducing him to this. It makes me feel proud and accomplished.
“Oh fuck. Callisto. Right there. Shit. So close. Gonna. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck,” Leo chants, each word punctuated by the slide of my mouth down his cock. I moan in response, looking up at him through my eyelashes.
Leo's eyes are wide, and a moment later three things happen simultaneously. Leo's cock pulses in my mouth. His hole tightens around my fingers. And there’s a very distinct salty taste in the back of my throat.
I moan again, pressing into his spot, and Leo shouts, another spurt of cum shooting down my throat. I swallow around it, repeating the process until his shouts turn to whimpers, and his body is reduced to a pile of twitching flesh.
I somehow end up in his arms, panting alongside him for a few long moments. I’m sticky, but I don't want to wash any of this away. I am too afraid of washing the memory away with it. With each moment that passes, the seconds of the clock become heavier.