THE BLIND GLASS RAGE

30

a/n: honestly this is ending quite soon? ill give you a heads up the chapter before!! but honestly, if you've made it to this point with my abundant amount of drama and other bullshit, i am so thankful for you. enjoy vague smut. i love you guys.

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The world was working to trick me into thinking it was having everything fall into place.

And I was plenty of things, you know, but I have never been stupid. Never wanted to seem like someone ignorant on purpose, at least. You could say my first few months of college dragged me through a plethora of agonizing things (and another one (of many) showed each time I thought about turning my back. Setting down the shield that barely did it's job, anyway) and it taught me to make sure I didn't get any of my hopes up. Not to let them crawl from the pit of my stomach, up to where my chest chose to lay, and fuck that piece of shit up even further. It was already bloody and cracked and bruised, and nothing shatters things as quickly as a heavy, lethal dose of false hope.

Josh and I were alright, it felt, and I worked to focus on that. How warm and nice he felt near me, his weight added to mine. I wanted to have the power to ignore most everything else, and I worked on it. Instead of pondering bullshit, I wondered how tired my mattress was of me not offering a warning before I let another person lay down on it. When I let another person in to where I shouldn't have. But, when Josh whispered to me, which was just gentle babble (it was so different from Joe's. Even when he wasn't saying anything, he was saying everything), I didn't care for the mattress anymore. My mind was peaceful and his touch was soft. His skin was painted to mine, and I wanted him to feel me everywhere he went. I didn't want us separate anymore. Not separate long enough for me to have to imagine him again.

"Hey, Tyler?"

I hummed a soft response, dancing my thumb across the hollow of his cheek, dragging it through the cut of his jaw, back up to his cheekbone. He smiled at me, small and unsure, and I smiled back. "Yes?"

"Parker isn't here," he whispered, glancing up at me with his teeth locked down on his bottom lip, all glistening with spit and desire and the words he'd given me earlier. No, my heartbeat did not speed up. No, it did not threaten to stop beating altogether, if I didn't get my hands on him. That's not what happened, you know. "And I missed you a lot."

My cheeks flamed in the dark, and, despite the lack of visibility, the color did not retreat. Especially not when I opened my mouth to speak, only for my voice to come out shot and torn and completely fucked up. Though, that's how I always felt around him. Completely fucked up.

"Did you?"

"Kiss me."

"Okay."

Like the situation called for, I ducked my head down to his, gave a little tilt of my head, and kissed him. Nearly instantly, the two of us melted together, bodies pressed and hearts finding the same beat. It was warm. He was always so warm. And he always complained about my hands freezing his skin whenever we came into contact, even when we were younger, and I never took notice of how different that part of us was. Because, we contrasted greatly, I knew. But it was such a crazy thing, because it was so small. Mere body temperature.

I could feel his tongue, wet and slick and heavy, and he was breathing into my mouth, syllables that made up my name and sighs that I took right from him, making room for even more. My hands were everywhere. In the dip of his hips, the build of his shoulders, the back of his neck. And then he was speaking, rushed and desperate and heated, and my entire world felt like it was threatening spontaneous combustion.

"I want to fuck you."

"I-"

"If you don't mind it, I mean."