Title: They Don't Know
Author: Amy B.
Rating: R
extremely short original m/m fic
Feedback welcome at jb7811@comcast.net
Website: http://merrygoround.slashcity.tv/
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I see the pitying looks and hear the whispers behind my back when my sleeves don't quite cover the bruises. They think we're dysfunctional. They think I'm abused and he is...what? A dangerous bully? A manipulative Svengali? Or perhaps they think I'm his slave in some sort of S&M scenario. Or he is mine.
They don't know. They speculate. They imagine. They assume. They conjecture--a *lot*. But they don't know. They don't understand any of it. They have no idea.
They don't know how just the sight of those blurry blue fingerprints on the pale skin of my wrists make me smile and shiver. They don't know that I ask for those bite marks on my neck and shoulders. They don't know that I want so much, that he has so much, that I give and take and push and desire. And so does he.
They don't know how his eyes twinkle and his cheeks flush when I wink and whisper, "Tonight?"
They don't know how red lipstick smudged across his full mouth nearly makes me come before I even kiss him. They don't know how black eyeliner makes his sweet boyish face become a sharp thing of beautiful savagery. They don't know how he hums and sings when I touch his body. Always on key.
They don't know his apparent delicacy hides a backbone of steel. They don't know how he sheers off my rough edges without even meaning to, without even working at it. They don't know the exquisite ache of having to share him with the rest of the world or the silent secret pride in sharing.
They don't know how he begs helplessly, even though in some ways he's really a stronger person than I ever could be. They don't know how he can then turn around and make me beg until my knees ache and make me scream until my throat is raw. They haven't seen his smile of triumph and the shudders it sends racing down my spine.
They don't know what power lies in a kiss, what danger lies in a caress, what ecstasy lies on the edge of a sharp blade, what safety lies in knowing another's heart. They don't know that when I lose my way he finds me. They don't know that when he cries I am always there to hold him, and he's there to hold me when I *can't*.
They don't know how he hangs onto my biceps when we're making love or how he straddles my thigh and teases us both by doing absolutely nothing. They don't know he even breathes sexy. They don't know how he wants me to hold him down sometimes and just keep him there. They don't know that I understand this and he understands when I have to be completely alone for a day or two in order to appreciate him better when I come back.
They don't know how it feels to be the sanity for another person. And know it's returned. They think they know the bitterness and the hardness of our life together, but they really only scratch the surface. They don't see the true depth of the sweetness and softness either.
They don't know that this is the only way we can be. They don't know that this is love, the way we do it...the way we feel it. They don't know how happy we are and that this works for us.
And I'm not about to tell them, because then what would they whisper about?
The End.
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