The Art of Gravity

TOBIAS MITCHELL

I let out a low hiss as Noah dabs the bundle of ice onto my busted lip. He looks up at me, apologetic.

We're in his bathroom, him standing between my legs as I sit on the bathroom counter. I watch him care for me, something that I'm still not completely used to. I'm trying though, for him.

He glances at my broken hand that was wrapped up in a cast. His parents had taken me to the hospital a little before the... incident.

"Does it disgust you?" I ask him. He's staring at it weirdly, his hands clenching into fists.

He flicks his eyes to mine, "It makes me angry."

I don't answer him.

He sets the ice down on the counter and crosses his arm, pouting up at me, though I don't think he realized he was doing it.

"Don't think that you deserve it, Tobias," he says, sending pleasurable shivers along my body at the way my name rolls off his tongue.

His lips are way too distracting, as are those eyes he's giving me. Way too distracting.

"Tobias?"

My sanity snaps and I reach forward, grabbing ahold of his thin waist, ignoring the pain in my hand, and switch our positions, him sitting on the counter and me now between his thighs.

My lips immediately attach to his neck, edging closer to that spot that I know will make him tremble. His tiny fingers tangle themselves into my hair, gasping out my name.

"Tobias? S-Slow down," He chokes out, pulling me closer towards his neck. Pulling me closer yet telling me to slow down. There's no way I can slow down.

"I only think about you, Noah." I whisper into his skin, referring to his earlier statement.

"Good. I don't want you to think about anyone el.."

He loses track of his words as my lips reach that spot, right behind his ear, kissing it lightly, running my tongue along it, hearing his breathy sighs urging me to go on, make him feel like he deserves to.

His body is shaking against mine, his hands running along my shoulders, down my arms, exploring.

The hand that was on his waist now travels upwards, under his shirt, feeling his warm skin, thumb rubbing small circles against the sides of his stomach. My broken hand rests against the counter, an unstable support.

I bring my head up to look at him. His face is flushed, a light shade of red, eyes distant, filled with something unknown, something like lust.

"Kiss me," he says, eyes on my lips. It's the fact that he wants it, he wants me that makes this situation so special.

It's not just lust. It is intimacy, it is love-filled want. It is us.

I give him what he wants, slowly, and passionately, but with an animalistic undertone that I could not hide. His lips are so soft, all of him is soft.

He's never had a kiss before me, I could tell. His kisses are innocent, small, barely there, like he's afraid to do something wrong. I show him that it doesn't matter. I move my lips against his, reaching up a hand to grab ahold of his jaw so that I could guide him.

His taste is as addicting as the cigarettes I smoke when I need to forget.

I don't want to forget this.

We're so different from each other. We're like day and night, fire and ice, winter and summer, Noah and Tobias.

•. •. •.

Noah's parents had requested to talk to me later, when I had time. I haven't gone downstairs to give them a chance to talk to me, and I don't want to.

Noah lays down beside me on the bed, and we both stare at his star — covered ceiling.

"Your parents know about us," I start, feeling Noah shift beside me.

"They do."

"And if they don't approve?"

Noah sits up, resting his head on his hand, staring at me in confusion.

"Why does it matter?" Noah asks, picking at his bed covers.

"It just does," I tell him, sitting up too, eying his unsatisfied expression at my vague answer. He should be used to it.

"If they don't want us together... Then we'll pack our shit and leave. We'll go somewhere where we can be together. I told you, Tobias. I'm not leaving you alone anymore." Noah scoots closer to me, pecking my lips.

Short, sweet, innocent, pure, Noah.

Noah reaches a soft hand up to trail across my cheek, "Can I be honest?"

I cover his hand with my own, eyes on his, "You be whatever you want to."

"You scare me," Noah whispers so quietly, I can barely hear it.

I swallow audibly, "And you want to be with someone who scares you?"

"I want to be with you. You make me feel things I can't explain with words. When I see you, Toby... I feel like the world stops for us. Just us. Hell, there is no world. There is no gravity. It's like I'm floating, like I'm high on drugs or something. It's exhilarating. It's you."

I stare at him, paralyzed. He doesn't understand how much he means to me. How much I love him. How in love I am, with him.

"I wanna kiss you, Noah."

His smile is as bright as those stars on his ceiling.

"You never have to ask, Toby."

•. •. •.

author's note; since noah and toby have been through pain and sadness to get to this point in their relationship, i felt like they deserved some good fluff. i'm glad i had them both go through their troubles first so that they now understand what the other is going through and can better help the other with their problems, which is a very important thing to have in a relationship.