Words

In the end, Christian realised, it was words that betrayed him. He had always thought it would be his anger, always there, quick and so easy to flare that it sometimes took him by surprise. Now, staring at a computer screen, with a familiar face smiling back at him, he knew could be betrayed by something other than anger. His own words, scores of them, spilling out for days now, because he believed he was safe in the anonymity of the internet. Chatrooms. Ironic really, given that chatting wasn't exactly what Christian was known for. But alone in front of a laptop, it was easy to say things to strangers he hadn't really admitted to himself. It wasn't as if he was good with words, at school he was inclined to yawn his way through classes, eager and restless to be outside, climbing trees, playing football, jumping through rivers, teasing girls. It was no better now; he never seemed to get it right. He struggled to put into words the things he knew he should say and got it wrong with the words he did. He was better doing than talking, his body had a language he understood, and with it he was able to do more than talk, he could make it sing, make it fly.

But when he thought about it, everything important had been about words. The words of his father in apology and excuse; the words Christian had spoken in a courtroom admitting a guilt that wasn't his; the words he had written to Coco, endless letters about everything and nothing, which meant he could get through each day in prison and continue to believe he could make it through each night; Nico's words when she told him who had actually been writing the replies that kept him strong; the words he couldn't say, "No, I'm not gay" and the words that terrified him, "Yes, I am". And lately, there had been one word that he kept coming back to.

Olli.

Sometimes it sounded like an accusation, sometimes a heartbeat, sometimes a prayer. Now it too felt like a betrayal. Halunke, not some stranger on the other side of the world, the other side of Germany would have done, but Olli, here, in Düsseldorf, in the flatshare. Christian believed in God, although he found it hard to explain what that meant, but this revelation, seemed to prove not the existence of God, but fate; cruel, mocking, unavoidable fate. Because no matter what he did or where he looked, it all came back to Olli. Words were bound up with Olli too, frightening words, "I've fallen in love with you, Christian" or confusing ones, "What am I supposed to do without him?"

Those weren't the words that haunted him now. In the stillness of his room, the revelation of Olli's photograph made the sudden thump of blood through his head and heart drown out the faint noise of cars and people that always filtered up from the street outside. Blood that caused his vision to blur and tilt, as though the world had shifted on its axis and he was tumbling with it. The sharp cold-hot flush of fear made his fingers tremble as he scrolled through his messages, so recently and unknowingly sent. "I can't forget", "I'm so confused", "Why do I get so work-up as soon as I'm near him?". So many fucking words, Christian thought, why did I have to write so many fucking words? Words that should have remained hidden, locked away deep inside; words that had the power to turn and bite back. A sudden certainty stabbed through him, he'd been played. Olli must have known, must have come into his room while he was at work, picked up his laptop, and found him out. If Christian had done nothing, admitted nothing, written nothing, there would be nothing to find. Olli had violated his privacy and trust, all to find a way to insinuate himself into Christian's head. Thoughts collided against each other as he stared at Olli's face and the bitter taste of hurt rose in his throat, stinging the back of his eyes. He pushed himself away from the sight of Olli, unbearable now. The room was small and stuffy, he struggled to breath against the static air. He wanted to get out, get away, anything but be here and have to meet the reality of Olli's face and remember all those words.

..

He heard the sound of Olli's voice as soon as he opened the door, talking as most as fast as most people thought, in the way that Christian had come to recognise was characteristically Olli. But it wasn't the sight of Olli that made Christian double-take or Olivia, who managed to eloquently communicate her disdain even with her back to him, it was his own words filling the air, "...idiot that I am, I nearly gave it all away." At first he stood, held still in shock, but then the anger, almost burnt out by fear and shame, sparked again as Olli continued on. He heard the laughter bubbling under as Olli spoke; he sounded almost amused by Christian's confusion and shared it all, every intimate, personal, painful detail with Olivia. She turned and catching sight of Christian, gave him her trademark smirk. She was laughing at him too. Creeping shivers of irritation itched at his skin, crawling over him, reaching down to his fingers which curled involuntarily into fists. He folded his arms against his stomach in an effort to keep control, when everything around him was spinning out of it. The confident assurance in Olli's voice snapped the stillness Christian had been holding on to and he felt himself move towards them both, but it was Olli on whom kept his gaze, Olli to whom he spat out his answer and Olli to whom he couldn't help but retort, "You really are the worst bastard ever."

He ended up back in his room, facing all the failures of the past few months; Olli's photo, Gast84, Coco's final letter and another word to haunt him. Honesty. That vicious stab deep in his chest twisted and sharpened his anger into one pure point of decision. It took seconds to wipe out Gast84, delete every message, every admission of weakness and then it was done. End of story. No more words.

..

The muted thud of doors shutting told him he was alone but it was a long time before he moved and when he did, his body felt slow and heavy, like he'd taken too many punches. Still heavy laid with bitterness, he moved cautiously back out into the living room. It didn't help, evidence of Olli was everywhere, even the scent of his cologne hung the air, a scent that jolted something disturbing through Christian, cutting through the rage that still clung to him. His gaze fell on Olli's laptop, lying innocently on the kitchen counter. He wanted to take the damn thing and hurl it across the room, see it smash into a thousand pieces. He wanted something on which to vent his emotions and the fierce anger that wouldn't go. He turned and left, placing temptation behind him.

His own reflection in the bathroom mirror was no consolation. It just seemed to tease and taunt him and if there was a flicker of fear behind his eyes, he ignored it. The door opened and Olli appeared, closed-faced and demanding. His tone was cold and hard as he questioned and Christian's anger spilt over, tearing the air between them with his frustration. He saw Olli's face crease in confusion but he didn't believe it, not when it finally felt good to shout out his rage, to let go and pound out his resentment, to hurl hard words around. Words that didn't seem to really touch the pain inside but might come close to proving that he wasn't going to be laughed at or ridiculed; that would tell Olli just how much Christian despised him.

"Asshole!"

Olli stared back at him in bewilderment and it felt good to see to see some of the uncertainty that had been digging away at Christian since that day, that day not so long ago, finally reflected in Olli's eyes.

"Are you Gast84?"

He almost didn't reply, it felt too much like an insult that Olli was still trying to pretend. But he did, he wanted them both to hear the answer.

"He no longer exists."

He didn't expect Olli to follow him, but when he did his anger flared and it felt good all over again, something pure and uncomplicated after weeks of doubt. And he was grateful that Olli snapped back, shouting out denials as his own rage spiralled, pushing Olli closer to him until their voices overlapped and fought against each other. Olli's eyes, no longer clouded by perplexity, flashed and glittered in the low light and he shouted words that Christian had to fight against.

"I'm not gay, understand?"

"What would you call it then?"

The words flew out of Olli, words Christian had written because he couldn't hold them in any longer and had desperately wanted answers and reassurance and in a way, when it had been Gast84 and Halunke, that's what he'd got. But now it was him and Olli, and there was no reassurance, only the world tilting a little further and Christian slipping a little more. Olli's words halted and then there was just the sound of their breathing and Olli's eyes pinning him down, challenging him. Olli's lips close, so very close and the memory, never very far away from the surface of him, of that kiss. Something deep inside of Christian broke and his hands were curling around Olli before he realised what he had done, pulling him nearer and for a split second he stopped, their breath mingling, feeling the heat of Olli's skin beneath his fingers and the last sliver of air between their lips, the last defence he had. He had no more words; he only had this, this coiling, snaking need; this anger at Olli for daring to kiss him and himself for daring to want him to again. And then Olli's mouth was on his. Soft, strong lips and tongues tasting and winding around each other, Olli's lips, Olli's tongue, slipping and sliding over his, pulsing out waves of need and want down Christian's spine. He didn't pull away, he couldn't. Olli's hands brushed through his hair and then again and again, Olli's mouth found his. He didn't want the kiss to end and it lapsed into something slower, sweeter. Only when he felt Olli reach down did he snap back, something instinctive reacting, but Olli merely blinked and brought his hands back up to Christian's face, kissing him softly. Olli's lips slid away and in their place was the brush of his cheeks, nose, chin all against Christian's, warm and gentle and Christian closed his eyes against the unexpected tenderness. Maybe it was the reassurance in Olli's eyes, the lack frustration at Christian's reaction, or the way it seemed to be enough that he was kissing Christian that made it easy to reach up and slowly pull down the zipper of Olli's top. Maybe it was the way Olli kissed him like he was the only thing Olli needed; maybe it was the heat in Olli's eyes, turning his beauty into something breath-taking. Or maybe it was just Christian's own longing for Olli.

They turned and twisted onto the bed, never breaking the hold they had finally found. Olli pulled him down, cradling his face, possessing Christian's mouth and Christian slid easily into him. Slipping his hands beneath Olli's shirt, Christian's fingertips skimmed across the ridges of tight muscle overlaid by warm, smooth skin; he wanted touch everywhere and know the feel of Olli beneath his fingers. He pulled Olli up, their mouths still fused in a deep, drowning kiss that had both their mouths slick and swollen, only breaking away to pull Olli free from his shirt and allow Olli to do the same for him; then he sank down, back into Olli, delving deep into his mouth with his tongue, tasting, learning, knowing the line of Olli's lips, the feel of his tongue. And the press of Olli's bare flesh against his, the tangle of arms, that wonderful heat and soft, soft skin. Olli's arms tight around his back, his hands caressing up and down, sending heated chills around and deep inside, the press of Olli's chest, the brush of his nipples, the feel of Olli's stomach, all against his. The ache that Christian hadn't been able to ignore since before Olli's mouth clashed with his became insistent and he lifted himself up, slowly dropping a hand between them, tracing a path down Olli's chest and stomach until they came to rest where they so desperately wanted to be. His shaking fingers lay against the blatant line of Olli's cock. Olli was so hard. Hard for him. Olli stared up at him, his eyes now dark with a vivid intensity. He'd seen Olli look at him that way before and yet never like this, never with such shameless want. Christian felt the beat of his heart in his fingertips; a hot flush rising on his face, he willed himself to continue, to slip his fingers between clothes and skin and stroke that hard, hard length, to touch and feel, with nothing between his touch and Olli's body. Against his shivering skin, Olli's fingers rested, a delicate but steady pressure, waiting. Captured by the strength of Olli's gaze, Christian swallowed, trembling at the thought of what he wanted, of what came next.

Olli moved with a fluid grace and Christian found himself on his back, his hands falling to his sides in a move of acquiescence and then Christian gave himself up to Olli, his fingers seeking and mapping every inch of Christian's body. Olli was so beautifully new, mysterious, a place Christian wanted to explore but didn't know how and so lay, trembling beneath Olli's touch. Somehow Olli got them free of the rest of their clothes and then, oh God then, Christian felt the kiss of Olli's body against his, felt the firm, strong lines, legs, knees, thighs and finally the soft-hard weight of Olli's cock. It lay heavy and insistent over his. Olli began to move, rocking his hips slowly, gentle waves of friction rubbing their cocks together, the delicate skin shifting and sensitive to every tiny thrust. It felt sweet and gentle, so softly intimate that Christian couldn't help his legs slipping open, allowing Olli to sink further between. Olli lent in, capturing Christian's mouth, kissing deeply as they moved gently, learning the touch of each other. Olli trailed small kisses down his neck and chest, the slight graze of barely there stubble skimming Christian's skin. Olli's tongue traced over a nipple before he kissed softly, his teeth scraping around its tip with tender pressure. Flames, sharply hot, curled through Christian's blood and his cock jumped and throbbed against Olli's. His body was taut and high-strung, like a single stroke could snap him and when Olli's mouth enclosed his cock, it felt like it would. Olli's lips and tongue caressed, swallowed him down, surrounding him with a wondrous heat. Olli was softly confident, stroking and sucking and when his lips came to rest at the head of Christian's cock, rolling it around his hot mouth, his tongue flicking and teasing more and more pre-come from the slit, Christian felt it everywhere, felt Olli everywhere. The way Olli was touching him, so perfectly sure, sent sparks scattering and he pushed his hips higher to meet Olli's relentless mouth. His cock pulsed with every velvet caress and he felt his balls tighten with come and desire. Too soon, he cried out soundlessly, too, too soon. Olli's mouth was so good, seeking out places that had Christian's head thrown back and his mouth gaping open in silent supplication. When Olli hummed out a sigh of pleasure that vibrated along Christian's cock, his hands twisted against the sheets and his hips rocked up and down, fucking Olli's mouth helplessly.

"Please ..." His words dissolved into sounds he didn't know he could make. Small breathless noises, whimpers that shocked him with the hunger he heard, but that he couldn't stop; they tumbled out of him in soft, pleading succession. Olli rose up and lent over him, pressing close against Christian's side, his fingers curled around Christian's stiff, sensitive cock, through which Christian rocked, seeking more and more of the firm, sure pressure of Olli's touch against him. Leaning close in, never faltering in the slide of slick fingers, Olli's whispered words fluttered against his cheek.

"What do you want, Christian?" Christian gazed up at him, wondering if the light of adoration he saw in Olli's eyes was mirrored in his own.

"You."

Olli's mouth curved up in a slow, magical smile that made Christian's heart dip and flutter.

He waited, his heart not slowing from its rapid beat, as he watched Olli roll the condom down his twitching, impatient cock, his fingers caressing and teasing. Had it ever felt like this? Like his heart would shatter from wanting. His skin burned with need, it had only been minutes since Olli's mouth left him, but it was too long. He needed Olli back, over him, around him. Olli dipped back down, his hands trailing from the base of Christian's cock slowly down the inside of his thighs. He stroked with the lightest of touches and hot breath danced against Christian's balls; Olli's eyes gazed up the length of Christian's tense, shuddering body as he closed his mouth over them, kissing, licking, sucking and Christian heard soft whimpers escape him again. He was trembling, a thin sheen of sweat covering his rigid body, he found himself straining to follow the delicate sweep of Olli's tongue. Olli flattened his palms, holding him open, immobile and ran the tip of his tongue up Christian's shaft, capturing it again in his hot, soft, strong mouth. Even with the thin barrier between them, Christian felt the glide of Olli's lips and the teasing flicks of his tongue and the wet warmth. He watched, his teeth biting hard against his lips to hold back the cry that danced at the back of his throat, as his cock slid between Olli's lust-slicked lips. He watched as Olli stretched out above him, clasping Christian's fists, uncurling them from the bed sheets and moving them high above his head. Olli's fingers tangled through his, pinning him down and then he moved against the tip of Christian's cock. Olli's ass felt strange against him and Christian held his breath at the uncertainty of it, but Olli's eyes held him fast, and his expression was one of such assurance that Christian knew, in that split second before Olli sank down, that he was caught in something amazing, irrevocable. There was a brief bite of resistance and then he was inside, inside a clenching heat that radiated out harder and stronger with every inch that Olli took. Christian cried out at the first feeling of Olli around him, clasping and caressing. His fingers tightened around Olli's and his head arched back as Olli took more of him inside, slowly, so slowly Christian felt every tightening pulse of muscle and skin, so slowly he had to fight not to beg and plead. He was so deep inside Olli; so hard for Olli and so deep inside and it felt so wonderfully good, so wonderfully right. He needed to move, to feel the hot flutter of Olli along the length of his cock, to feel that sweet grasping tightness swallow him again and again as he thrust in deep and possessed Olli. But he was held firm by Olli's body, by Olli's hands pressing his further into the pillows, by his sudden stillness except the faint pulse and pull of Olli's ass.

He opened his eyes and Olli's gaze held him just as surely as his body, love and want and yearning all there in Olli's shining eyes. Olli nodded and slowly moved, dragging Christian's cock through a tight vice of hot muscle. So hot, it turned Christian's vision inside out, blinding him as everything turned into a bright, melting oblivion, everything except Olli; binding him with a power and force that brought it all down to this moment, this feeling, this emotion, an emotion for which Christian had no name. When Olli's hands released his, Christian's fingers flew to Olli's hips, clutching tight, digging into Olli's perfect skin, holding him steady as Christian drove his cock in harder. He wanted to be buried so deep in Olli he lost himself; wanted to feel Olli's strength and certainty seeping into him. Christian thrust his hips up as Olli ground down, his gaze never leaving Olli's face, the expressions of bliss and finally sated hunger dancing in quick, stunning succession, the light in Olli's eyes growing dark and greedy every time Christian entered him again and again, his mouth dropping open in a perfect picture of ecstasy. They found a seamless rhythm, a tangle of moans, limbs, fingers, skin and sweat. His groans mingled with Olli's; the scent of sex surrounded them and as Olli dropped forward, shifting the angle of Christian's cock inside, he felt Olli begin to tremble and his ass clench tighter and pull Christian even deeper, touching a place inside Olli that had him crying out, with a ragged, low moan and making his fingers bite into Christian's shoulders. He watched in hungry wonder as Olli moved up and down his cock, his skin glowing as it rippled and flexed; his own orgasm skimmed the base of his spine, his thighs, his stomach, beating so hard and fast that when Olli came, his body and face open, so beautifully free, with Christian's name on his lips, it pushed Christian over the edge into a world that was no longer shifting, but spinning, hurling Christian in a beautiful abyss. He came long and hard, something deep inside, anger and fear, flying out of him, coming apart, its heat and fire fusing into something deeper and stronger, something that held the same power but felt very different. He slammed into Olli, his cock held by the quiver and clench of Olli's ass pulling from his singing body, joy, pleasure, completeness. Somewhere, dimly in the distance he heard his own voice and a single word, the name to which he kept coming back, cried out, over and over again.

Through a haze of sated completion, he felt Olli's lips brushing across his cheeks, his eyelids, his chin and finally coming to rest gently on his mouth, grounding him, bringing him back down to earth. He felt Olli's breath against his lips and tongue as they kissed slowly, endlessly. Olli was still tight around him, keeping Christian locked deep inside, undulating in soft, steady movements, pulling the aftershocks of his orgasm through muscle, blood and bone to the very ends of him. His body was shaking and hands moved to cup his face and gentle fingers fluttered across his cheekbones.

"Christian."

From Olli's lips, with their bodies still locked in an embrace that was devastating in its intimacy, it almost didn't feel like his name; it was a breath, a whisper, a promise. He was so close to Olli that Christian could feel every beat of his heart, every shift and twitch of muscle and a shiver of renewed need flashed through him. Olli eased off him, sending another slow pulse of pleasure through his cock. Almost as soon as Olli left him and curled himself around Christian, the fear crept in. The dizzying pleasure of moments before buried beneath the reality of what he, they, had done. Yet his hand still crept up the curve of Olli's back, hot and slick beneath Christian's palm, up to the nape of Olli's neck, where his skin was soft and smooth and into Olli's short, silky hair. He could feel shaky rhythm of his own heart. Olli nestled into him, his cheek against Christian's chest, a sweet pressure that told of comfort and closeness; that told of intimacy and sex. He ran his fingers slowly through Olli's hair, a small comforting gesture; for his benefit or for Olli's? His body still hummed with the force of his orgasm, but his mind curled and hissed at what it meant.

Eventually, Olli lifted his head and looked deep into his eyes. Christian stared back, unnerved by the same lurching drop of his stomach that sent him reaching for Olli in the first place, but he felt the closed, guarded set of his own expression and saw a flicker of uncertainty taint Olli's.

"Would you rather be alone?"

When he didn't respond, Olli pulled away. Immediately Christian felt the warmth disappear, not just beside him but inside. He kept his gaze averted as Olli gathered his clothes, willing himself to say something, anything, to make it better, make it right, make it different, but none came.

"Being with you felt wonderful to be with you, really wonderful."

He held Christian's gaze for a heartbeat longer and Christian felt the words thud against his tongue, behind his stubbornly closed lips; lips that wanted Olli's pressed against them again, to taste the sweet skin of Olli's neck, feel the rhythm of his heart. Don't go, don't leave me, come back. But the words never came, they stayed still and buried and in the end, when it really mattered, words didn't betray him, they simply failed.