My Goth/Punk Prince
folder
Original - Misc › -Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
9
Views:
2,754
Reviews:
32
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Original - Misc › -Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
9
Views:
2,754
Reviews:
32
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
The Brady Bunch
OoC|| Finally a new chapter. Sorry for the wait. I\'m slowing down as I near the end of the fic. I don\'t want it to end. I only have another chapter and a half typed. It\'s making me frustrated. Especially because I\'m leaving for another week and a half on the 17th. Sorry.
To my luverly reviewers:
Anon ~ Here\'s more. Thanks for urging me on during my little \'break\'.
Broken Sparrow ~ Thank you, a lot. I\'m trying. I\'m still quite new at writting this type of thing and especially sex scenes. I can tell you they were most likely been in three to four chapters. I will take it in mind to go back and edit.
Kat ~ Jenn is based of a few people I know. Did I mention that already? Oh, well. Anyway, my mom had a dog named kitty. She loved him to death and I got that idea from talking about him.
Mewa ~ I really would have Jesse and Carson stab her BUT I don\'t want a sex scene in jail. Never know what goes on in there. It\'s not sanitary. Lol.
Miztikal_Dragon ~ I\'m trying to make up for it, but this chapter\'s not the greatest either. What can I say, I try. Thanks!
Stone ~ Showers are fun. With the cold tiles and all that water...xD
Sabina Jordan ~ Thank you. I like unusual, most the time. Wasn\'t aiming for it, but it works. ^^
Thank you all! Reviews mean very much to me. I don\'t think I would ever continue anything without them. They give me that push when I\'m in a slump, like I was over the past few weeks.
On with the story!!!!!! ||
“Who was she?” Carson asked with disgust.
Before answering, I turned on the radio. Music was always nice. Especially Rock from reliable 101.1, KUFO. The song. One I have never heard before. But the beat was nice, and they were not screaming…yet, I assumed.
“Jenn. I refer to her as ‘The Bitch’. Suiting, don’t you think?”
I looked over at him. Dark green met mine. I couldn’t help but look back at the road. They were just so alive. Full of that spark of fire just for me. But it made me happy.
“Mm-hmm. I do indeed.” He let out a small laugh, leaning back into his seat.
I felt something warm and callused slide against my right hand, which was resting on my thigh. I felt his hand flip mine so that my palm was facing up. I felt fingers slide slowly between my own. It felt so, so…sensuous. I loved it. I loved him.
Yes. I have come to that conclusion now. I do not like him. No. I do not like him in any way. I love him. All of him. I suppose I always have. Since the day he walked through our preschool door. How does he feel? What am I to him? Am I his world as he is mine? Is this one of his many flings?
I look over at him when we hit a red light. I study him. He smiles at me. I feel myself melt. No. This is not just a fling. This is real. This is serious. I know he feels as I feel. Has always felt as I felt. Which is best. My Goth/Punk Prince. You truly are the person I want to spend my life with.
I squeeze my fingers against his. A little touch to know I care. Then he car is moving again. I’m driving us to his house. The song changed. Nine inch nails filled the speaker. I do know the name of this song. It’s fairly new. I’ve only heard it once before. I only know two of the lines. ‘Bow down before the one you serve. You’re going to get what you deserve.’ Or something like that. That’s it. But I like it. I like a lot of the NIN songs. I wasn’t surprised when Carson started banging his head with the music. Or singing along for that matter. He always was more of a rock fan than I was. Guess he still is.
It did not take long for us to reach his house. It was big. Two stories, a basement and an attic. So really, four stories. But that was to be expected. There were a lot of people living in it. I often refer to them as the Brady Bunch, just to piss off Carson.
There was, of course, his mother and father. Then there was Carson himself, Liz, Cody; who is fourteen, Leah; who is eleven, and the twins, Casey and Lacey; both 4. I always found it odd. The girls had the L’s and the guys had the C’s. Whatever.
I parked the car in front of their house, not wanting to take up the driveway. Then we got out. I missed the warmth of his hand. I got my bag from the back seat and walked to the porch, where he was waiting for me. As we walked through the doors I heard the familiar sound and smell of dog. Did I forget to mention that they had a dog? Four cats? Yes. They do. And I will not even attempt to remember their names.
We slipped off our shoes. My Goth/Punk Prince and I. Ignoring the pretty brown and white rat-terrier. He led me to his room. It was in the basement. His room was as I remember it. Clothing on the floor, dresser drawers hanging open, guitar leaned against the wall, bed unmade. It was a welcomed sight.
Carson looked over at me sheepishly. I grinned in return. I turned into the bathroom, so we both could change in peace. I pulled my spare clothes out of my bag, setting them on the counter. A loose, dark blue and black striped shirt, buttoning up the middle, and jeans that were rather baggy on me. And so I stripped quickly. Wanting to see him again. Carson. My Goth/Punk Prince.
Changed, I backtracked into his room. He was flipping through a CD album. He tossed it aside when I entered, rolling his eyes. My eyes trailed over his body. He was wearing plaid pajama bottoms and my sweatshirt. I bit down the want to lick my lips. To lick his lips. Instead I sat down next to where he was sitting. On his bed.
No. I would not think of that. I would not think of sex. I willed my twitching erection to just leave me alone. To not listen to the thoughts that were begging to be let through my filter. I twisted my body and lay down. My head rested on his pillow. I took in a deep breath, breathing in. The scent of Carson. My Goth/Punk Prince. Cinnamon and the musky smell of man. It was wonderful.
The bed shifted under me. He was moving. I watched as he lay down. Curled into me. We both let out sighs of contempt. His head rest on my chest, arms spread lazily about me, one over my waist and the other wrapped around my arm. Carson’s body pressed into me, he was nearly laying atop me again. His legs were what I tried not to think about. Tangled with my own. I was comfortable. He had made himself comfortable. All was good.
“Let’s sleep.” He murmured against my chest. I could feel the warmth through the fabric of my shirt, causing a shiver to ripple up and down my spine.
I did not answer. Instead I pulled him closer to me. Like I was protecting something. In truth, I felt like I was the one being protected. Guarded. Held like I was his. And I was. I was his and he was mine.
My eyes drooped, no longer watching his head rise and fall with the steady movement of my chest. Until they were closed completely. He let out one last sigh of happiness before he grew still. His breaths lengthened and slowed. He was asleep. I was soon following.
|| Please Review!||
To my luverly reviewers:
Anon ~ Here\'s more. Thanks for urging me on during my little \'break\'.
Broken Sparrow ~ Thank you, a lot. I\'m trying. I\'m still quite new at writting this type of thing and especially sex scenes. I can tell you they were most likely been in three to four chapters. I will take it in mind to go back and edit.
Kat ~ Jenn is based of a few people I know. Did I mention that already? Oh, well. Anyway, my mom had a dog named kitty. She loved him to death and I got that idea from talking about him.
Mewa ~ I really would have Jesse and Carson stab her BUT I don\'t want a sex scene in jail. Never know what goes on in there. It\'s not sanitary. Lol.
Miztikal_Dragon ~ I\'m trying to make up for it, but this chapter\'s not the greatest either. What can I say, I try. Thanks!
Stone ~ Showers are fun. With the cold tiles and all that water...xD
Sabina Jordan ~ Thank you. I like unusual, most the time. Wasn\'t aiming for it, but it works. ^^
Thank you all! Reviews mean very much to me. I don\'t think I would ever continue anything without them. They give me that push when I\'m in a slump, like I was over the past few weeks.
On with the story!!!!!! ||
“Who was she?” Carson asked with disgust.
Before answering, I turned on the radio. Music was always nice. Especially Rock from reliable 101.1, KUFO. The song. One I have never heard before. But the beat was nice, and they were not screaming…yet, I assumed.
“Jenn. I refer to her as ‘The Bitch’. Suiting, don’t you think?”
I looked over at him. Dark green met mine. I couldn’t help but look back at the road. They were just so alive. Full of that spark of fire just for me. But it made me happy.
“Mm-hmm. I do indeed.” He let out a small laugh, leaning back into his seat.
I felt something warm and callused slide against my right hand, which was resting on my thigh. I felt his hand flip mine so that my palm was facing up. I felt fingers slide slowly between my own. It felt so, so…sensuous. I loved it. I loved him.
Yes. I have come to that conclusion now. I do not like him. No. I do not like him in any way. I love him. All of him. I suppose I always have. Since the day he walked through our preschool door. How does he feel? What am I to him? Am I his world as he is mine? Is this one of his many flings?
I look over at him when we hit a red light. I study him. He smiles at me. I feel myself melt. No. This is not just a fling. This is real. This is serious. I know he feels as I feel. Has always felt as I felt. Which is best. My Goth/Punk Prince. You truly are the person I want to spend my life with.
I squeeze my fingers against his. A little touch to know I care. Then he car is moving again. I’m driving us to his house. The song changed. Nine inch nails filled the speaker. I do know the name of this song. It’s fairly new. I’ve only heard it once before. I only know two of the lines. ‘Bow down before the one you serve. You’re going to get what you deserve.’ Or something like that. That’s it. But I like it. I like a lot of the NIN songs. I wasn’t surprised when Carson started banging his head with the music. Or singing along for that matter. He always was more of a rock fan than I was. Guess he still is.
It did not take long for us to reach his house. It was big. Two stories, a basement and an attic. So really, four stories. But that was to be expected. There were a lot of people living in it. I often refer to them as the Brady Bunch, just to piss off Carson.
There was, of course, his mother and father. Then there was Carson himself, Liz, Cody; who is fourteen, Leah; who is eleven, and the twins, Casey and Lacey; both 4. I always found it odd. The girls had the L’s and the guys had the C’s. Whatever.
I parked the car in front of their house, not wanting to take up the driveway. Then we got out. I missed the warmth of his hand. I got my bag from the back seat and walked to the porch, where he was waiting for me. As we walked through the doors I heard the familiar sound and smell of dog. Did I forget to mention that they had a dog? Four cats? Yes. They do. And I will not even attempt to remember their names.
We slipped off our shoes. My Goth/Punk Prince and I. Ignoring the pretty brown and white rat-terrier. He led me to his room. It was in the basement. His room was as I remember it. Clothing on the floor, dresser drawers hanging open, guitar leaned against the wall, bed unmade. It was a welcomed sight.
Carson looked over at me sheepishly. I grinned in return. I turned into the bathroom, so we both could change in peace. I pulled my spare clothes out of my bag, setting them on the counter. A loose, dark blue and black striped shirt, buttoning up the middle, and jeans that were rather baggy on me. And so I stripped quickly. Wanting to see him again. Carson. My Goth/Punk Prince.
Changed, I backtracked into his room. He was flipping through a CD album. He tossed it aside when I entered, rolling his eyes. My eyes trailed over his body. He was wearing plaid pajama bottoms and my sweatshirt. I bit down the want to lick my lips. To lick his lips. Instead I sat down next to where he was sitting. On his bed.
No. I would not think of that. I would not think of sex. I willed my twitching erection to just leave me alone. To not listen to the thoughts that were begging to be let through my filter. I twisted my body and lay down. My head rested on his pillow. I took in a deep breath, breathing in. The scent of Carson. My Goth/Punk Prince. Cinnamon and the musky smell of man. It was wonderful.
The bed shifted under me. He was moving. I watched as he lay down. Curled into me. We both let out sighs of contempt. His head rest on my chest, arms spread lazily about me, one over my waist and the other wrapped around my arm. Carson’s body pressed into me, he was nearly laying atop me again. His legs were what I tried not to think about. Tangled with my own. I was comfortable. He had made himself comfortable. All was good.
“Let’s sleep.” He murmured against my chest. I could feel the warmth through the fabric of my shirt, causing a shiver to ripple up and down my spine.
I did not answer. Instead I pulled him closer to me. Like I was protecting something. In truth, I felt like I was the one being protected. Guarded. Held like I was his. And I was. I was his and he was mine.
My eyes drooped, no longer watching his head rise and fall with the steady movement of my chest. Until they were closed completely. He let out one last sigh of happiness before he grew still. His breaths lengthened and slowed. He was asleep. I was soon following.
|| Please Review!||