Archive of Our Own ^beta

Bill is in one hell of a good mood lately. This last week of spring break, he’s been on a winning streak.

For starters, there’s a new change in his homelife, one that he still can’t get believe happened.

After one final explosive encounter with his mother’s bastard husband, having been backed into a corner and faced with the threat of another beating, he defended himself with all the ferocity of a wild animal. And ever since then, the hateful squint of his stepfather’s blackened eye chases him as he comes and goes out the front door. Unscathed other than a few lingering bruises, he proudly recounted the harrowing story to Jeffrey. His boyfriend shared in his elated victory by leading Bill to their one of their favorite hideaways in a small nearby forest. Jeffrey dirtied up his jean-clad knees as he pleasured Bill into a swift climax with all the new tricks and skills he’s learned. Afterwards he popped Bill on the mouth with a lewd, wet kiss.

And that right there is another reason why Bill feels like he’s on top of the world.

Counting down the months until the day Jeffrey rides the Greyhound bus halfway across the country, they are both inseparable and insatiable. All this free time without school to clutter a big chunk of their days, they indulge on a string of outdoor rendezvous, letting out some of the never-ending sexual tension like doomed lovers who will never see each other again after the spring season ends. And while they are by no means doomed, they cling to one another with a little more fervor, knowing that the start of this year’s summer will mark Jeffrey’s departure.

A bittersweet ache stirs his heart but Bill mentally tells himself the same pep-talk he gave Jeffrey. After all, they’ll only be apart for a few months and Bill will later join Jeffrey in the concrete jungle of the city. Always the loud-mouth talker, the stubborn one who has to have his way come hell or high water, Bill chatters insistently about them leaving Indiana for something bigger and better. And with their plan slowly but surely coming into fruition, Bill can barely contain his joy.

Somedays, he stares at the sun low on the dusky horizon and through the golden haze falls upon the cornfields and fields of his hometown Bill glimpses a vision of his future, which is irreversibly connected with his little gypsy.

The memory of their last summer together is honey-sweet and whenever one of them mentions their first time, they burst into giggles.

One early evening when they were feeling particularly restless, they snuck into a cornfield a few miles out of town. One shy kiss melted into a full-blown make-out session and they got caught up in the heat of the moment. Next thing they knew, they were clumsily intertwined, writhing against each other beneath their stripped-off clothes which they used as a blanket. The bold sunlight on their naked skin, their passionate cries accompanied by the breeze rustling through the tall green stalks, the blue skies vast above their heads, the whole experience was magical.

Bill would have liked to lay beside Jeffrey and watch the stars light their way across the darkening skies but they still have the long walk back to Jeffrey’s house. They both reluctantly separated and redressed themselves.

Jeffrey had tied his shoelaces and straightened up with a noticeable wince. The pain in his lower back must have broken his half of the afterglow because he paused for a few seconds and then clasped his hands over his blushing face, mortified. “Shit. I just lost my virginity in a fucking cornfield like some backwoods hick.”

Halfheartedly smoothing down the mess of his disheveled hair, Bill’s fingers stilled for a second. A wide grin broke across his face and a giddy smile grazed Jeffrey’s lips. They both erupted into side-splitting laughter. Wiping a few stray tears from the corner of his eyes, Jeffrey said, “ugh, I’ll never be able to look at corn the same way again.”

Bill took him by the hand and led them out of the cornfield. The red splotches on Jeffrey’s cheekbones refused to fade and he felt dizzy at the fact that he now knew firsthand how easy it is for a blush to cover most of his pale lithe body. As they walked on the side of the road, he joked, “What are you complaining about? Out of the two of us, I’m the one who actually likes to eat corn.”

Jeffrey plucked a small piece of cornsilk out of his red hair and smirked at him. “Good luck trying to eat creamed corn ever again- hey!” Jeffrey squeaked at Bill’s playful pinch on his ass. “Be gentle with me, that’s a very sore area after what you did with me.”

He swung his arm over Jeffrey’s shoulders, drew him close, and kissed the top of his head. “My apologies. Once we get back to your bedroom, I promise I’ll kiss your sore spot and make the pain go away.”

Fast forward several months later and their sexual romps are on all-time high. But their nights are a completely different matter.

They exhaust themselves in the daytime with hot-and-heavy touches that leaves them both begging for more and dirty whispers breathed across bruise-kissed skin. Then night falls and it’s all about sharing warmth and sweet kisses, drowsy cuddles underneath the ceiling of glow-in-the-dark-stars.

-

Bill impatiently waits for the lights underneath the shut doors of the other bedrooms go out. Once his stepfather’s snoring rumbles through the walls, he sneaks out the darkened house with all the stealth of an accomplished cat burglar. He knows the long winded path to Jeffrey’s bed, all the shortcuts included, like the back of his hand.

Jeffrey waits for him under the cloak of night, listening for the rattle of Bill’s knuckles on the closed window. Bill’s breath hitches in anticipation every time Jeffrey lets him in and greets him with a quick peck on the lips. Jeffrey’s pale skin gleams in the moonlight and his sleek black hair that slightly curls around his shoulders adds a mystifying quality.

Bill sheds his clothes expect for his underwear and once he slips under the bedcovers, Jeffrey eagerly warms him up. The soles of his socked feet rubs on Bill’s calves. The drawstring pants and thin t-shirt are loose on Jeffrey’s bird-bone frame. When Bill holds him close, one arm over the sharp dip of his small waist that Bill adores so much, his crinkled pajamas are so invitingly warm and cozy.

Bill shivers at the chaste kiss on his jawbone. He kisses Jeffrey on the forehead and smiles sleepily at his quiet little sigh. Jeffrey’s peaceful breath glides on his bare throat, the rhythm of his breathing as he drifts into sleep soothes Bill like a lullaby.

His full bladder wakes him up much earlier than usual. Luckily it’s still dark out, so everyone else is still asleep and he can make it to the bathroom without getting caught. Just to be on the safe side, he carelessly puts his clothes on because God forbid one of Jeffrey’s little siblings runs into him in the hallway and start screaming bloody murder over a mostly-naked stranger in the house.

He keeps his clothes on when he crawls back into bed, too tired to care. Even in his sleep, Jeffrey has felt his absence, curled up on his side in a little ball, perpetually cold without anybody to keep him warm. Bill snuggles around the bony curve of Jeffrey’s body, savoring the last hour or so remaining before the sun comes up.

Sunlight burns his eyelids and that’s his wake-up call. Rolling onto his back, he shields his bleary eyes with his arm and lets out a grumpy moan. He feels Jeffrey turn over onto his opposite side. Bill tilts his face towards him and stares in disbelief, wondering if he’s dreaming.

Jeffrey’s arm holds a worn-out stuffed giraffe, its rounded smiling-stitched snout lovingly squished against the side of his face. Eyes still closed, Jeffrey happily cuddles with the stuffed animal, blissfully unaware that his redheaded boyfriend is close to having a brain aneurism, trying to figure out if he woke up in an alternative universe. Thinking back on all the times he’s spent the night with Jeffrey, Bill tries to recall if he ever brushed on something fuzzy-fur and cotton-soft and lumpy-shaped.

Eyes fluttering open, Jeffrey squeezes the giraffe’s neck in what resembles a hug and bumps his nose on its fuzzy head, in between the nubs of its horns and floppy ears. Finally realizing Bill’s bewildered presence, Jeffrey freezes, shocked.

He immediately sits up, his arms pressing the giraffe against his chest. “You weren’t supposed to see this.” Embarrassed, Jeffrey stutters. “You weren’t here and your clothes were gone too, so I thought you left. I was cold and all alone so I bought Bobo out from where he stays under the bed.”

“You replaced me with a giraffe?”

Jeffrey smiles sheepishly at his indignant squawk and shrugs. “You know I get cold easily and I really don’t like sleeping alone. Bobo has been keeping me company ever since I was a little kid. I couldn’t sleep at all without him.”

He admits this is ridiculously petty of him but Bill’s secretly glad that it was he who replaced the somewhat-dilapidated giraffe with the funny name in Jeffrey’s bed and not the other way around.

Jeffrey’s fingers run through the scruffy brown mane along the giraffe’s neck. He mutters faintly. “Then you started sleeping over and I didn’t need Bobo as much any more but I don’t have it in me to just throw him out.”

He’s surprised to hear the amount of fondness and love laced Jeffrey’s shy voice every time he says his giraffe’s name. Just by eyeballing the toy, Bill see the wear and tear its had throughout all these years. Bobo clearly means a lot to Jeffrey.

“You don’t mind me still clinging onto my old stuffed animal?” Pink-cheeked and biting on his lower lip, Jeffrey cradles his giraffe to his thin chest and glances at him through bedraggled hair. With his oversize t-shirt exposing his pink-tinted collarbone, Jeffrey looks utterly innocent. Bill has the sudden urge to hold him the same way he’s holding his giraffe because Jeffrey means everything to him.

Bill does the next best thing and gently holds onto the bare skin of Jeffrey’s forearms and leans to kiss his forehead. “I don’t mind at all, Izzy. And on the bright side, you’ll have a buddy with you traveling to L.A.”

Jeffrey being all alone was a genuine concern of his but Bill feels a little more optimistic. And all because of a giraffe plushie, of all things, but the important thing is that at least Jeffrey will be carrying a small physical piece of comfort and warmth. Strange that a stuffed animal will be his (temporary!) replacement by Jeffrey’s side this summer, but they’ll be reunited soon.
Jeffrey kisses him with all the summertime sweetness of their first time, eyelashes slightly damp with grateful tears. Before he kisses the spill of tears on Jeffrey’s cheekbones, Bill glances briefly at Bobo’s beady black eyes, sending a silent message: you better be there for Izzy while I’m not there.

-

It pulls Axl’s heartstrings whenever Izzy brings out his toy giraffe from its hiding spot under their bed, especially in the late afternoons when he’s overwhelmed and stretched too thin.

Every now and then, Izzy just wants to hide away for a while. So Axl loudly exclaims to their roommates that he and Izzy are gonna spend the afternoon shacked up in their room and not to bother them. The wordless implication that they’re about to have a marathon of nonstop sex is enough to send their friends flying out the door in disarray. Slash once ran out shoeless, hands slapped over his ears, still haunted by the sound of Axl fucking Izzy against the bathroom door, the door banging with every thrust, Izzy’s strained voice begging Axl for permission to cum. How were they supposed to know that Slash had passed out in the bathtub the night before, hidden behind the shower curtain?

Nevertheless, Duff banned Axl and Izzy from using the bathroom together and Slash isn’t allowed to drink alcohol after three in the morning.

However today there was no need to scare off their friends. They woke up the beautiful sound of a vacant apartment, no drunken stumble and crash followed by a cursing streak or the TV blasting on full volume.

They eat a quick breakfast, composed of black coffee, toast, and in Izzy’s case, the last bit of strawberry jam at the bottom of the jar. Then they head back to their bedroom and pull down the blinds a little.

Sunny days in late January are few and far between. Clouds gather thickly and the smell of rain breezes in through the open slot of the not-closed-all-the-way window. Their room is dim and chilled, their bed so warm and comfortable with a mountain of blankets. Tangled up together, half-naked, this is how they find themselves on a stolen morning, not a care in the world. The door is shut and on the other side is all of life’s worries and stresses waiting for them but right in this moment, it’s all shuttered out and forgotten.

If Axl was told the end of the world will happened tomorrow and today will be his last day of living, this will be how he’d choose to spend his last day.

Izzy cuddles against his side, still smelling of strawberry jam. His stuffed giraffe lays on top of Axl’s chest and Izzy’s arm is flung across them both. The stuffing in Bobo’s neck has been flatten down from years of Izzy clutching the toy to his chest. His beloved childhood toy is the only thing salvaged from his past in Indiana…well, other than Axl himself, of course.

His hand creeps under Izzy’s shirt and strokes the delicate curve of his shoulder blade. Axl huskily asks, “you up for some loving? I promise I’ll be gentle this time.”

“Mm, we’ll start off gentle and go from there.” Izzy smiles coyly. He carefully grabs Bobo around his soft belly and places him in the lower drawer of the nightstand. In doing so, the blanket slides past his hipbone and Izzy teases him with the smooth curve of his ass, the creamy-pale skin enticing Axl to firmly grip the soft flesh. Excited, they dive under the blankets.

-

There are times when Izzy wants to take Bobo out and take a nap or just hold him close while Axl spoons him from behind. But then Izzy puts him back in the drawer, his cherished toy giraffe always there whenever he is needed. Most of the times, Axl is his favorite person to cuddle with.