Faceprint
two,
He didn’t reject his smile. In fact, he even returned a subtly suggestive one himself. Gia was confident now, bristling with adrenaline as he slowly slipped his hand out of his hair. He tilted his head to the side, and watched the other male’s more chiseled features. He had a lovely jawline, didn’t he? Hmph. Anywho. “I don’t think I mind that all too much,” The words had slipped out of the other’s lips with such a smooth, nonchalant slick that Gia had almost not even heard them spoken. If this was some sweet, cruel reverie- please, don’t wake him up! It was like this every time he stumbled across someone in the clubs- someone who didn’t notice how his face wasn’t /quite/ as pretty, or feminine as the other girl with more shape. Gia was pretty, he knew he was, but he wasn’t a girl. He couldn’t match up. His skin crawled, and the feeling of exhilaration was too close to fading. He would shove these thoughts back into his brain- back to where they belonged- in a box where only he had the key to. The place he went to before he went to sleep. Not now. Not when he was so close.
“dance with me.” Gia widened his eyes, blinking once slowly- the words so soft they could have been from that girl. The real girl. He bit his bottom lip, fingers caressing the hem of his black skirt; the present from a friend a few years back. His mother didn’t buy him girl clothes. The boy didn’t answer, but took the hand away from it’s spot on the skirt as he began to lead him towards the floor- back into the mounds of blended people. There was hardly enough room for them to slip themselves inside the can of people. It was only a moment before they’d managed to blend right in as well.
The music seemed louder when you were in the core of it all. The mood seemed stronger. They’d began to dance- the boy behind Gia as their bodies slipped accordingly to the music. It was heaven, and it was beautiful. I suppose mother’s really wouldn’t approve of the way skins touched now and then- and I suppose mother’s wouldn’t approve of the way anything happened now and AGAIN; but what can you do about it when Mother’s not there to stop you? It was only so long before the hands that had once been on hips slipped to the shoulders to spin Gia around to face the boy. “tell me your name.”
“Gia. Now tell me your’s.”
Gia’s ‘name’ slipped so easily over his lips now- after many years of practice.
“Nikita.”
Nikita brought his hands up to Gia’s face, a rather crooked grin plastered so closely on his features it was almost frightening. You could always tell what a boy was thinking, just by that grin. and then? Nikita wasn’t thinking. His hormones were. A kiss was enough to sustain him for the night- and Gia lied about his drunken state. He needed to be home. He couldn’t go wherever this boy wanted him. No. He couldn’t. but a girl could.
“dance with me.” Gia widened his eyes, blinking once slowly- the words so soft they could have been from that girl. The real girl. He bit his bottom lip, fingers caressing the hem of his black skirt; the present from a friend a few years back. His mother didn’t buy him girl clothes. The boy didn’t answer, but took the hand away from it’s spot on the skirt as he began to lead him towards the floor- back into the mounds of blended people. There was hardly enough room for them to slip themselves inside the can of people. It was only a moment before they’d managed to blend right in as well.
The music seemed louder when you were in the core of it all. The mood seemed stronger. They’d began to dance- the boy behind Gia as their bodies slipped accordingly to the music. It was heaven, and it was beautiful. I suppose mother’s really wouldn’t approve of the way skins touched now and then- and I suppose mother’s wouldn’t approve of the way anything happened now and AGAIN; but what can you do about it when Mother’s not there to stop you? It was only so long before the hands that had once been on hips slipped to the shoulders to spin Gia around to face the boy. “tell me your name.”
“Gia. Now tell me your’s.”
Gia’s ‘name’ slipped so easily over his lips now- after many years of practice.
“Nikita.”
Nikita brought his hands up to Gia’s face, a rather crooked grin plastered so closely on his features it was almost frightening. You could always tell what a boy was thinking, just by that grin. and then? Nikita wasn’t thinking. His hormones were. A kiss was enough to sustain him for the night- and Gia lied about his drunken state. He needed to be home. He couldn’t go wherever this boy wanted him. No. He couldn’t. but a girl could.