Krii7y Stories

Head in the Clouds but my Gravity's Centered

    Sweater Weather- The Neighbourhood
For: Rakk_Toast (Insta)
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    The wind was harsh, pulling cold air along with it. The dying sun on the horizon would only make it more frigid. Everything became quiet as others began packing up their belongings for the day, no longer seeing the beach as an escape.
    John stood leaning against a concrete wall, watching the waves roll onto shore. Soon, the sun was barely winking at him. He jammed his hands closer together in his hoodie, breathing in the sea and smoke from fireplaces. Looking up, he saw pinks and yellows mesh into a dim blue. Clouds became the star of the night as light pollution covered everything else.
   "Hey, John. It's getting chilly out here. Come inside and warm up a bit," a soft voice sounded behind him. He turned and looked, seeing his boyfriend. He was dressed in one of his oversized shirts and shorts, clearly showing he had no intention of going outside to retrieve his lover.
   "Sorry, Jaren. Got caught up in the moment." John moved to step over the waist tall wall, quickly shooting out his hand to capture the foreigners. Jaren giggled, allowing his hand to be interlocked with John's and pulled into his hoodie pocket. "Have you eaten yet?"
   "Yeah, I got us some In-N-Out. I put your food in the fridge." They made it to their shore-side house, entering through the sliding glass door and walking quietly to the kitchen. "Your cheeks are all red, babe," Jaren mumbled, cradling the taller male's face in his hands and rubbing his cheeks.
   John moved his hands from his pockets and rested them on the Canadian's hips, moving the fabric of his shirt up to rub small circles into his skin. "You know what would warm me up faster?" He asked, dipping into Jaren's space before he could answer.
   They kissed. A small peck before it transformed into something more. Jaren's arms were around John's neck, his mouth being invaded by a familiar tongue. Broad hands were feeling up the younger's stomach, bunching up the fabric as they roamed higher. "John—" Jaren attempted to speak but failed as feverish lips pressed onto his own harder. The shirt was now over his pecks, John tweaking his nipples ever so slightly. "Babe, bed," he finally said as his shirt was stripped from him and thrown over the couch.
   "Mhm," John acknowledged, pulling them through the house.
   Stumbling in, Jaren's back hit the messy bed. There was soon a topless John looming over him, staring with adorning eyes. He yet again went down to join their lips. Soft sounds from them both bounced around the room, pouring out the open window across the room. The older male's hand slid down Jaren's body, leaving a burning trail in its wake as it rested itself on his hip. John pulled back, bringing his other hand up to the Canadian's face; his thumb grazing at his lips.
    John's back soon felt cold, the curtains framing the window swaying with the breeze that forced its way in. Rain pattering on their roof mixed with the thrum of their hearts. Jaren began gnawing at his thumb, never hating the salty taste they had.
    "Jarebear, let's continue this later, ok?" John pulled his thumb away, causing a streak of spit to land on Jaren's chin.
    "That's fine, Johnny." The younger man adjusted himself to be under the comforter as John went to close the window, stopping to admire the rain creating reflections on the road. "I'm getting cold by myself, so hurry up, please."
    "Needy little fucker," John huffed, but Jaren knew there was no poison behind it. When he got into bed, he immediately wrapped his arms around his boyfriend, soaking in the warmth. "I love you."
    "I love you, too, babe. Now get some sleep."