Made of Light (boyxboy)

17|Fight me

Chapter 17| Fight me
Hold Each Other - A Great Big World

Nick Evans

I will fight his parents. I will do it. Don't doubt me. Punch Mrs. Bright right in the face. Kick his dad in the dick. I will do it.

They didn't even bother showing up today either. Honestly, I want to hurt them. They called to apologize but they're not going to be here for a long time. Good. They don't deserve Ollie's attention. I can borrow my neighbor's cat and make Mr. Whiskers claw their damn faces off. I will g-

"Nick, why are you killing my pillow?"

I face Oliver and calm down. "It stole my purse, Oliver. It has to pay." Oliver smiled. He closed the bedroom door and walked closer toward me.

"Then make it pay. You've got this!" he said and sat next to me.

I chuckled. "Its a good thing that I have a nice boyfriend to encourage my pillow murders."

He smiled as he looked into my eyes. I bit my lip as I looked into his own bright brown eyes. I have never loved a color this much before. My teeth dug deeper into my lip as I leaned closer to him. My hand reached to his face and my fingers caressed his cheek. I brushed his hair behind his ear and stared into those beautiful eyes of his. Finally, I closed the gap between our lips. Oliver's lips were soft and tasted of milk chocolate. My hand that was previously on his cheek moved to his neck, and my other hand moved to his shoulder. Oliver's hands wrapped around my back and pulled me closer. The kiss went deeper until I had to pull away.

I took a breath then said, "I've wanted to do that all day."

Oliver smiled as he said, "You've only been awake for ten minutes."

I smiled as I went to kiss him again. Once again, the kiss got deeper. I tugged at Oliver's hair as his hands explored my back. I lightly nibbled on his bottom lip as his hands grasped tighter onto my shirt. My mouth left his and went to his neck. I left a trail of light kisses down his neck as my lips went down to his collarbone. I bit the skin and sucked on it as Oliver put his hands up my shirt. My lips went back to his own.

My shirt kept slowly moving up until Oliver got it off. As the kiss deepened again, I slowly pushed him down onto the bed. I hovered above him as we continued to kiss. Oliver whimpered as I pulled away to take off his shirt. I threw it to a random place on the floor, then went back to kiss him. Oliver's hands explored my back, and his fingers traced my back muscles. I moved my lips to his earlobe and nibbled on it. He bit his lip hard and pushed me closer to him. I made sure I wasn't going to hurt him as I leaned my body onto his. I moved my lips to the bottom of his jaw right below his ear. I put pressure on it until Oliver softly moaned. His nails dug into my skin as I applied more pressure onto his skin as I kissed him.

His hands went up to my hair and the back of my neck. He clenched and tugged my hair while I made a trail of kisses down his chest. I lifted my face off of his body and traced my fingers down his chest. I admired his body. His definition of art is probably different from mine. To me, his body is art. Even if he might think that his body isn't that great, I think he looks perfect. I love how his muscles. I love his eyes. I love his collarbone. I love his smile. I love how his skin feels. I love how soft his lips are. I love how he looks like when he's asleep. I love kissing him. I kiss him one last time and rolled beside him. I take his hand and intertwine my fingers with his. We just lay there silently for awhile. It was nice.

"Nick?"

"Yes, Ollie?"

"Why did you go to the party? You know, the one where I met you?"

"I was bored. It was nothing cool."

"Mhm..."

I faced him. "But I'm glad I went."

"Me too. Good thing I listened to Willow. She really is always right." I smiled as I looked into his eyes. Apparently I closed my eyes because I ended up waking up to an empty bed. I rubbed my eyes and looked for Oliver. He was by his easel with a paint brush in his hand.

"Oliver?"

"Shh. Don't move." I looked to what he was painting. I smiled as I saw my own face on the canvas. He looked really concentrated, so I didn't say anything to mess that up. The rest of the day was like this. He painted as I watched him. We talked, of course, but I hardly moved. It was nice. It was peaceful. If only every day was like this, things would be way better.

If I never went to the party, then I would have never talked to this boy. I would have never kissed him. I would've never admired him like this. I wouldn't feel like I do. I would've never started falling in love with him.