Author: Lipstickcat
Feedback: [email protected]
Disclaimer: Not mine. Nintendo knew a good thing when they saw it.
Pairing: James/Chopper
Rating: Nc-17
Warning: angst
**
God. Its really raining out there. The sky is full of angry purple clouds, big grey billows of fluff warning us to stay inside. I�m trying so hard to concentrate on what�s being said, but all that I can hear is your breathing. All that I can feel is the damp heat radiating from your body.
Do you remember, Chopper? There was a storm the last time I saw you as well. We were out there on the bridge, the old gang together, and the clouds gathered before we even noticed. There was a thunder clap to warn us, too late, and the heavens opened. Fat, heavy raindrops that stung when they hit my hands and face. We were soaked in seconds.
Everyone went home to dry off. You went back to the hut because you had no home. I think that�s why we were best mates, neither of us had parents who loved us. I don�t know why I didn�t go back to the bedsit with Jessie, but I didn�t.
You pulled out those big threadbare towels and we rubbed each other�s hair dry. I know that I looked like a drowned rattata, with my hair messy and matted. Your hair gel was all washed out and your red hair fell down to your jaw line, held out of the way of your face by your white bandanna. You looked at me in that moment in a way that I�ve never seen before. Do you remember? Soft eyes and out of focus smile?
We stood just here and watched the rain out of the window silently for a while. Watched the fat drops spatter against the concrete. Listened to the thunder as it claimed the sky. Then you pulled off your boots and tipped the water out of them. I laughed as you wiggled your toes in your soggy socks.
You lit a fire in the hearth and we pulled off our T-shirts so that we could lay them out to dry. We each fell into a bean bag. Whenever I see a bean bag now, I get nostalgic for you.
You got out your stash of whiskey and took a swig. As you tipped the bottle back, I could see the light of the fire dance in the amber liquid. Then you passed it to me. I was never much of a drinker, I�m still not, but I took it because it was special. Because your mouth had been there seconds earlier. It burnt a track all the way to my stomach. On nights when I�m alone, I swear that I can still feel it.
Then there was silence and I could hear you breathing. The same way as you are now, trying hard to keep it regular and slow, but somehow sounding heavier and harsher than normal. I could hear the crackling of flames and the rush of my blood as it roared past my ears.
Suddenly there was a rustling as you got up from your beanbag and half fell on me. I was shocked and incapable of any kind of thought. I let your tongue into my mouth before your lips even met mine. It was thick with the taste of the spirit that my mouth must have tasted of as well. They were wild and passionate kisses, wet and warm, and so very urgent.
I could feel the pounding of your heart against my chest as our bodies fell into place against each other. Your rough hands stroked down my sides, to my waist, making me shiver. My hands wove in your gorgeous hair, played with the blond streak that hid your eyes.
Then your hands moved and I could hear a clinking sound ringing in the empty room as you unbuckled your belt. I remember the smoothness of your skin as I ran my hands over your shoulders, and down the curve of your back. It was hard to push your wet jeans over your buttocks, but it was worth it, to let my palms rub over that tense flesh.
You stood up and finished the job, stepping out of your jeans and leaving them in a pile on the floor. I looked up at you as I wriggled out of mine. You were harshly lit by the fire, hollow eyes and cheeks, swollen parted lips, framed by the window, standing in front of the grey streaks of rain outside. Naked.
You kneeled back down, as I sat upright. We met again with questing mouths and exploring hands. We clashed teeth a few times in the excitement, a testament to our inexperience, but we smiled into each other�s mouths and continued. Daring and encouraging each other�s hand to wander further down. I gasped when your hand finally wrapped around me. I nearly came then and there.
But I didn�t. Oh, don�t you remember? How could you forget?
How could you forget how you pushed me back? How we had to improvise with spit and pre-cum? How I screamed when you first entered me? It burnt like the whiskey in my throat and you were too caught up in the moment to control yourself. But I wanted it, I wanted you, and it got easier. Then, it was wave after wave of pleasure, as you leaned over me, rocking back and forth. At some point, the bean bag burst, but we didn�t care. We were there, in this hut, in front of the fire, as one. And in that moment, we were making love, weren�t we? I�m sure that we were. Just for that second, before you came, jerking forward inside of me. I heard you whisper my name as I followed, sticky warmth spurting over our stomachs.
We dressed silently and fell asleep on your bean bag. I left with Jessie the next day and we never mentioned it. I suppose that we pretended that we were drunk, that way we could always tell ourselves that we were young and experimenting. We could always pretend that we didn�t remember.
You do remember, don�t you? I know you do, because I can see the look in your eye as you step that little bit closer to Tyra.
The words leave my mouth before I know what I�m saying. I don�t want to go out there, not in this weather. It�s too late. I�m going to make a fool out of myself and I�m never going to see you again. So why can�t I take the chance and just kiss you?
Because I�m afraid that you don�t remember.