Do Not Fall Down Stairs

Do Not Fall Down Stairs

Interlude





"You've got your ball,

you've got your chain,

tied to me tight.

Tie me up again.

Who’s got their claws

in you, my friend?

Into your heart,

I'll beat again.”



There simply was no denying it, Titus thought as he looked his friend up and down. Michael Allan Rothbin was hot. Sexy. Fuckable. Decked out in the stylish, fitting clothes that Titus had bought him for the party, he looked like an erotic offering for anyone who wanted it.



And, oh, Titus wanted it. Wanted it bad.



He had never realized what a lovely form there was under all the baggy outfits that Michael usually wore. The boy hid his physique well, but Titus could not figure out why. Who on earth would keep such a body a secret? Did his friend not realize his own appeal? It was entirely possible, Titus admitted. And for some reason, the thought that Michael had never known how gorgeous he was bothered him. He should know, damn it. He deserved the self assurance.



Titus intended now to give it to him. He had never seen Michael as a sexual option before. Sure, he had a nice enough face. It was cute and attractive in that almost-but-not-quite schoolboy way. But it wasn't the sort of face that normally caught Titus' attention. He preferred the more exotic, chiseled look. The kind Luz possessed. Bastard.



But all his opinions had done a complete twist, and suddenly Titus was so very interested in finding out what that adorable face and that hot body would look and feel like if they were caught up in passion. He had only just ordered his friend to put his new outfit on - Michael was squirming in it, unused to the sensation of clothes that fit - but he now had every intention of removing it from him piece by tailored piece.



"Michael," Titus said, causing the other boy to swing his gaze away from the floor. He had been studying it intently, probably waiting for Titus to tell him he looked awful and just to scrap the whole idea. "Take your jacket off."



Michael frowned, disappointed. Of course, he had expected for the apparel to look bad, but he had sort of hoped... Sighing, he slid the sports jacket from his shoulders and tossed it on the bed. He'd hang it up later, so that Titus didn't have a cow over it gathering wrinkles. He then looked up to suggest that he just wear one of his usual band tees, but the look in Titus' eyes stopped him.



His blue gaze was staring, fixed, at the place where Michael's neck and left shoulder met. The look was intense... Hungry. Michael felt his heart stutter.



"T-Titus?"



"Your shirt..." Titus mumbled, taking a step forward. God, he wanted to taste that place. To lick and bite and suck it until he created a bruise that never faded. He wondered if Michael's skin was as soft as it looked. He took another step and was less than an arm's length away from the other boy. Slowly, cautiously, his hands raised and rested on the shoulders before him. His fingers squeezed involuntarily, feeling the lean muscles under Michael's green button-up.



"What are you doing?" Michael forced out over the weird blockage in his throat. His voice sounded sharp and much too loud.



Titus laughed, soft and low, the breathy exhalations ghosting over the small patch of exposed chest above Michael's shirt collar. For a whole minute, the taller boy thought he wasn't going to get an answer.



But then: "I'm helping you get undressed."



Michael shuddered, releasing a breath he hadn't known he was holding, as his arms jerked up, his hands wrapping around Titus' elbows. Already said elbows were moving down, following in the wake of their respective limbs. Titus' fingers danced around the top button on Michael's shirt, undoing it only to move on to the next.



"Don't."



Titus ignored his friend's rough command. He was already down to the last button, and in another second it too was unfastened. His hands floated up, the resistance created by Michael's own hardly registering, slid under the soft cotton fabric and pushed - finally - against warm satin skin. Michael's grip tightened but didn't try to pull the touch away. A small shift was all it took to encourage the button-up to fall off the taller boy's form, leaving his upper body clad in a thin white muscle shirt. Titus cursed his fondness of layers, then. He wanted all of that lean, tanned chest to be laid bare before his perusal. But Michael was already looking panicked despite the obvious curiosity in his gaze, so Titus decided he could wait.



Sweetly, gently, he leaned forward and pressed a small, chaste kiss to Michael's shoulder.



"Why...?"



Titus smiled, a real smile without all the calculating snarky bullshit mixed in, and shrugged slowly. "You're gorgeous, babe. Didn't you know?"



"B-but... But, I..." Words could not express the million different reasons that Michael had for why this was wrong. He fell silent, his brow furrowed in distress. Titus stood on tip-toe and kissed that, too, making the creases smooth out instantly.



"Just enjoy it," he said, one thumb repeatedly caressing the spot that he had been eyeing before all this started. "It'll be good, I promise."



"But Sabrina..."



"Has nothing to do with this. Neither does Luz, or anyone else. This is for you, Michael, and you alone."



Michael frowned, as if he were about to ask how such a thing could possibly benefit him. But instead of protesting, he inquired, "What about you?"



Titus' smile replenished itself. "I'll enjoy it, too," he assured, before leaning in and closing his soft, impossibly hot mouth over the rapidly pounding pulse in Michael's neck. Michael gasped, ignited, and squeezed his friend's arms until he was sure he would hurt him.



Contrary to the fact, Titus moaned in utter delight. The skin under his tongue tasted clean, fresh, and only slightly salty due to the recent sheen of perspiration breaking out over Michael's body. His earlier shower had erased all the unnatural residue from his form, but the pure, untarnished flavor of Michael remained. It was tangy, sweet, perfect, and Titus could not get enough.



Despite the strong hold on his elbows that was keeping him from going anywhere, Titus could still sense the trace hesitation in Michael’s demeanor. He knew the other boy wanted to enjoy this, wanted to want this, but it was obvious that he wasn’t sure if it was okay to do so. So many doubts were etched into his beautiful face; Titus wanted to banish them all so far away that Michael would never question anything about this wonderful moment ever again.



“Sweet like candy to my soul,

sweet you rock,

and sweet you roll.

Lost for you,

I'm so lost for you.

You come crash into me

in a boy's dream... in a boy's dream.”



With deliberate slowness, Titus pushed himself up and snaked his arms gently around Michael’s neck. With the latter’s grip still in place on his arms, their new position made Titus feel like his friend was holding him to his body, and he grinned again, enjoying the idea. He was rarely a romantic, but something about Michael – something wholly endearing – made him want to pull him close and kiss him soundly.



So he did.



Michael gasped harshly into the contact, the noise swallowed by Titus’ searching mouth. The shorter boy’s lips were soft and slightly chapped and oh, so good against his and Michael thought for just a second that maybe this was all just fine-



Titus slipped his tongue out to taste this new part of his friend and was not disappointed. Michael opened his lips in surprise and Titus took advantage, quickly darting inside before escaping back into his own mouth. He did this several more times, just savoring each flavor, taking only what he thought would not be too much, when suddenly-



Oh, yes.



Michael’s tongue was touching his now, ever so carefully, and Titus imagined he might die of pleasure. This was acceptance, he knew, of what they were doing. There would be no more fighting, only participating, only reciprocation. And the heat created between them was so impossible, so wet and perfect, and he just wanted to dive inside and live in it. But he couldn’t. Not yet.



“Michael?” he whispered, pulling away. His friend made a small noise in the back of his throat that almost had Titus lunging forward for more.



“Y-yeah?”



It was hard to find the right words. “We… What do you… That is… H-how far… do you want to go?”



Michael’s forehead creased again.



“I won’t force you into... anything, you know,” Titus assured.



“I know.” And he sounded like he did. Like Michael was never more sure of anything. Titus’ chest swelled.



“So… what…?”



A sigh escaped the taller boy. “Let’s just… do whatever feels… right? Okay?”



Nodding, Titus replied, “Okay.”



He expected to have to once again slowly rebuild what they had made, to take the lead and show Michael the right direction, but his friend surprised him by leaning down and quickly kissing him. It was a sweet gesture filled with insecurity and shyness, and Titus wanted to laugh out of pure joy, but he knew it wouldn’t be taken the right way, so he suppressed it and offered a brilliant smile instead. And he would have followed that up with another kiss, a much deeper, longer one, except that Michael was frowning now and Titus did not know why.



“What is it?”



The taller boy shook his head. “Why… me?”



Titus was confused. “I already said, didn’t I? You’re hot, Michael. Sexy. Gorgeous, cute, whatever you want to call it.”



“But I’m not! Not like y-” Michael cut off his argument with a blush and a downcast gaze, but Titus knew what he had been about to say and was torn with the implications of it. Michael thought he was good looking, and he already knew he was, but to hear his friend say it like that… It was like… He was jealous.



“Michael.”



The boy did not look at him.



“Michael Allan. Look at me this instant.”



Hesitant eyes met his. Titus softened and he said gently, “You are every bit as attractive as anyone. Including me.”



Putting himself down, it seemed, made Michael passionate. “No, I’m not! I mean, look at you, Titus. You’re like, completely confident all the time, and you never ever second guess, like, anything about yourself. You look so beautiful every day, and I just, like, don’t! I just don’t…”



He trailed off dejectedly, glaring at the floor. Titus was finding it hard to breathe. The word ‘beautiful’ had passed Michael’s lips in reference to him, and it was like being punched in the gut. Oddly, he could never recall having been described so before.



“But…” Titus licked his lips, finding them far too dry, and started again. “But you do, Michael. No one could ever tell because you’re always swimming in those stupid clothes you wear, but… It’s there, hon. I can see it.”



The taller boy looked at him with cautious, barely there hope. Titus brought him down for a kiss, putting every bit of confirmation he had into it. After a second, Michael groaned and joined in, and blessedly, finally, his hands left Titus’ arms to wrap around his lower back, pressing them impossibly close. The contact set Titus on fire, and he happily enjoyed burning alive with his best friend for the rest of the night.



oooooooooooo



It was almost two in the morning when Michael and Titus redressed – Michael put on his new outfit without complaint – and ventured downstairs. All of their party guests were already there, and had been for hours if the mess was anything to go by. Apparently the lot had no problem with carrying on a celebration without their host. No one even seemed to notice that they were only just seeing the two boys for the first time all night.



The pair had spent delicious hours in Michael’s room undisturbed, quite uncaring that there was a party going on around them. Luckily Titus had the foresight to lock the bedroom door before things got too intense, and neither of them noticed the handle jiggling a few times as hopeful couples tried to get inside to do… exactly what the two of them had been doing.



Well, perhaps not exactly.



Titus smiled to himself, the memories of their deeds coming back to him in clear detail. He scanned the room to find Michael chatting comfortably with Keenan. His friend was recovering well.



And lo and behold, another quick browse revealed none other than Sarena Cornwall eyeing Michael from her place in the corner with a few girlfriends. Inside, Titus was positively rolling with laughter. His spur of the moment decision had apparently helped his already existing plans. Michael was oozing confidence and sex appeal now, and Sarena had obviously taken notice.



Turning to leave so that things could run their course, Titus caught the eye of a cute blonde boy staring at him from the bench in the foyer. They both grinned, and Titus could not help but think as he sauntered over to introduce himself that perhaps everything was all right with the world for once.



“Oh, I watch you there

through the window,

and I stare at you.

You wear nothing,

but you wear it so well.

Tied up and twisted,

the way I'd like to be.

For you, for me.

Come crash into me."





AN: Happy birthday to meeeeeeee. Yesyes. Tomorrow is my birthday, and I wrote this fluffy little piece of fluffery for myself. And for you lovely and kind reviewers, who I have left hanging for far too long now. INCASEYOUDON’TGETWHATTHATMEANS, allow me to explain. THIS IS NOT CHAPTER FOUR. Nononononono it is not. That’s why it’s called ‘Interlude’, okaaaaayz? It has nothing to do with the real story, so sorry to anyone who was wishing Titus and Michael were going to fallinluv lmao omfg squeeee. They’re not. EVER. The end spoilerhahahahahaha.



Also. I feel really bad (omg she has feelingz?) for the incredibly long wait between chapter three and the next one. It probably won’t be up for a while yet. Sooooooo. As an apology/gift thingggg, I will write a one shot for the first person to review this here little addition. About whatever they want. Pretty much. Except for the things I won’t write… Which will be told to that person when they review.



And sorry if that seems like a crappy gift. It’s all I gotz. D: D: D: D:



Chapter threeeee reviewaaaahz:



Kryst Sutures: Believe it or not, I half-based Titus’ mom off of my own. Scary? Yesplzyouhavenoidea.



Alex: Wouldn’t a relationship between emoboy and fag-extraordinaire be the John-Titus effect? WTFWHYDON’TYOUKNOWMYCHARACTERNAMES,BITCH? And you asked for my virtual babiez, so don’t complain about their poo. D:



P.S. imissyoulikewoah. ;_;



Camui: Nougat-y fuck. IAMWINDEXTOR. HAHAHAHAHA. Hetoldyounotto, rivalwhore.



DISCLAIMZ: I do notttt own “Crash Into Me” by Dave Matttttthewwwssss. It’s his, yo. I did, however, listen to it on repeat for this entire thingggg. IT’SSWEET. Har.



P.S.S.S.S.S.S. Go read my new one shot about creepy little boys and incest or I’ll shoot you. :D