[Fic] Five First Kisses
Apr. 9th, 2007 06:13 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kittydesadeTitle: Five First Kisses
Fandom: The Covenant
Characters: Caleb and Pogue, mostly
Word Count: 2,506 words
Rating: PG
Prompt: First Kiss
Summary: Five first kisses that may or may not have happened. Cross-posted all over the place, up to and including![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
lieutenantwitch, ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
lover100, covenant_movie, covenant_fictio
It probably wasn't what Caleb had meant, but one phrase stuck in his head for months after it started. Sometimes it was good, other times it made him wonder just how long this was going to last. We're in college, he'd said. It's where you're supposed to experiment. Why aren't we experimenting?
Pretty good question, Pogue had thought, except that in the twenty and slightly plus years they'd known each other, even if the first few years were the blank space of infancy, he'd never thought of Caleb as anything but straight. The idea that something might happen hadn't gotten beyond the fantasy stage. And a few surreal dreams he'd wanted never to wake up from.
He still wasn't sure when Caleb figured it out. Before Luke, and that awkward moment when he'd brought the other guy over and Reid looked up from the couch with a flare of jealousy and anger. Tyler hadn't even blinked. Caleb had blinked, but hadn't said much of anything except, don't leave the pizza out this time. Pogue had called him a neat freak and they'd disappeared into his room.
Luke hadn't lasted long. He'd made himself right at home in their home, despite Pogue's oblique and finally blunt warnings not to. They were four boys, grown up together back home, and they wouldn't take it well if some guy came in and started acting like one of the boys. Luke had told him not to be such a girl and that was the end of him. Except that it wasn't. Reid probably would have 86'd him from the house if he'd been sprawled over the couch drinking their last beer again, but he hadn't. Pogue hadn't invited him over again. Caleb had kissed him first.
It was sweet. Painfully sweet. It was gut-clenching and chest-aching and too unreal for him to remember clearly, and sometimes he wished he did. Sometimes he didn't care. Caleb had kissed him with shyness and characteristic attention to detail and he had been too caught up in the amazement that it was real, the suspicion that it was just a dream. They had slipped apart after several minutes of gentle, chaste kissing and everything tingled. He felt every lash hitting the upper curve of his cheek when he blinked. He felt Caleb's breath on his mouth.
The next kiss was not so chaste. And the next. And then there were hands and his hand on Caleb's thigh and Caleb's arm around his waist and he was melting into the young man he had loved for years and still couldn't believe this was happening, but he wasn't going to protest any more. It was a different day and Caleb was leaning back against the couch pulling him on top of him and god, he was warm. Solid. He'd appreciated the other boy's body before in the locker room, in the pool, in moments when no one knew the significance of those looks, but never like this.
He hadn't meant for them to go here, not with what had happened, not with everything that was already confusing. He hadn't even meant for Caleb to know his porch door swung both ways, but once that was out he wondered if maybe it would help. He'd have questions. Maybe Caleb would trust him to give answers in a way that was safe.
Except then it had come out that his feelings for his friend weren't exactly filial, and that stirred the waters, made them murkier, darker, hiding whatever dangers lay beneath. It confused the issue, he could see the confusion flying across his friend's face and that wasn't what he wanted. He wanted to make things better, not wedge open wounds that bastard Chase had already inflicted. He wanted to help, not make things worse.
Even being hyper-aware of what he was doing didn't stop them from winding up almost nose to nose, backed up against a pool table with his hands on Caleb's face and tasting his breath. It wasn't romantic. It wasn't sexy. It was Caleb freaking out and using instinctively, too much power, and he had to get him to calm down and just breathe and mostly to calm down. Breath by breath, bit by bit, the panic and power ebbed.
And then Caleb kissed him.
And it was soft. And it was shy, and sweet, and tentative, and part of him said with a cynical snort that of course it was, he didn't have a clue what he was doing. His one experience with another guy had been, and, yeah, he didn't want to think about that.
Part of him was stuck in a cartoon world with exclamation points shooting out of the top of his head.
Most of him was pressing his hands tighter on Caleb's cheeks, cupping his face firmly even though he knew he shouldn't be and kissing back as chaste as he could. Was turning flips, his chest tight and actual tears springing to his eyes at how sweet it was and wishing desperately that it wasn't under these circumstances. Because everything was shadowed over with what Chase had done and there was no way to know right now if they were kissing because Caleb wanted it or because he wanted to understand. Or a way out. Or something else that had nothing to do with Pogue and everything to do with Chase.
Caleb tasted the tears. Stopped, panicking, and Pogue had to hold him and reassure him for the millionth time, only this was different, this was a line they had crossed together. And he didn't know what happened now. But he held him as tightly as he could and told him it would be all right, and made himself believe it so that Caleb would believe it too.
And even later that same day, somehow, they were on the couch and kissing. Hands sliding over hips, over jeans and under shirts and everything was hot and tight inside. And he didn't know what was happening.
He wasn't sure if it was the late hour or the one too many beers, or the hypnotic light of the television that had gone to infomercials because it was just that late. It might have been Reid leaning up against his legs from the floor and snoring, too. His foot was probably falling asleep. He still didn't want to move.
His eyes slid over in Caleb's direction, but the other boy wasn't asleep. It was hard to tell at first, though. Caleb's eyes were half closed, and he didn't think his friend had taken to sleeping with his eyes open, but then he took another drink of his third beer, fourth, Pogue wasn't sure. An uncharacteristic lot, but it was the end of their high school career, and they were celebrating.
Or they had been. He thought Tyler was passed out on the floor behind the couch somewhere. He'd seen his friend grab a blanket and a couch cushion and that was the last of him for the night.
Caleb yawned, moved to stand except Reid was in the way and he sat back down in a way that wasn't really sitting back down so much as falling over. Pogue grinned a little, shifting so that he could tug Caleb against him, one arm around his shoulders. It got him a funny look but, what the hell, they were both slightly drunk. It made for a good excuse.
Sooner than he expected Caleb was falling asleep on him, and at this angle Pogue figured he'd regret it when he woke up. He shook his friend's shoulder, meaning to get him to go to bed. "Hey…"
Caleb's eyes opened and they stared at each other for a moment, caught, deep and dark and Pogue's chest tightened too much for breath or speech. It wasn't that they'd never been this close before but not in years and never like this. He wanted to say something, do something, do anything to take away the mounting fear that this was going to go all wrong but he couldn't move with Reid on his leg like that. And Caleb was shifting anyway, sitting up and maybe everything would be okay.
Pogue looked down and away, and so he missed the expression on Caleb's face when he put his hands on his shoulders. He was biting his lip and staring at the tv to avoid saying or doing anything they might regret later. Like Caleb's hand on his cheek and oh god was that
His mind shut down as the kiss started, hands moving on instinct, arms sliding up and around him and holding on tight as the kiss deepened and made him breathless and flushed. Until he had to break the kiss just to come up for air and Reid was still snoring and it seemed like no time had passed. But Caleb was still there. And his lips felt for sure like they'd been kissed.
"Wha…?" They were drunk. It had to be the beer. Or the lack of sleep, or something else his mind couldn't think of because it was still stuck on the part where Caleb had kissed him.
"Reid said…" Caleb shrugged. "Why didn't you tell me?"
First thing in the morning wasn't his preferred time to go swimming, except at the cabin. As much as Pogue could be lazy, he liked the peace in the mornings, the sunrise and the breeze as long as it wasn't too cold.
Caleb joined him without a word, just a nod and a smile of greeting. They stripped down and changed into suits and started across the water, easy strokes rather than powering through it. They changed strokes a couple of times, alternating from their main to their secondary, never getting too far ahead, the one from the other.
Towels were waiting for them on the porch railing, Caleb's idea, because Pogue as usual had forgotten about afters. He grinned ruefully at his friend as they dried off, sat around on the porch talking. Neither of them wanted to go back inside.
Summer was almost over. Back to school soon, and their last year of college. They were starting to get a little edgy, leaving the safety of school once and for all and heading into as close to the real world as they were going to get. Their world wasn't like everyone else's. The worst, for them, was already over. Caleb didn't want to go back. Didn't want to leave it all behind.
Pogue smiled a little. He knew what he meant.
No matter where they went, they still had each other, right? It was the kind of conversation that wandered all over the place. And he wasn't sure what made him do it, except maybe some of the lingering fear of the four of them scattering off after college, but when his fingers brushed over the back of Caleb's hand it was with more meaning than he usually imbued in his touches. Caleb felt it. Looked at him.
He didn't explain, just kissed him. Soft, hesitant, but sure at least that if it wasn't welcome it wouldn't be offensive either.
But the moment stretched on and he felt Caleb's fingertips, hesitant but there, along the line of his jaw. And he realized that as shy as it was Caleb was kissing him back.
And just like that they were on their knees on the porch, towels still wrapped around them in scattered, half-draped fashion. A little cold, and pressing together for warmth. He didn't want to push the kiss but Caleb did, and he let him, a little. Tasting in his mouth, the way he tasted, the feel of his friend's tongue in his mouth made him give a little cry and break away to hold his face in his hands and rest against him, foreheads touching. He couldn't breathe, and he couldn't stop smiling, and it was the most wonderful feeling in the world.
They started to laugh. Soft, melding with the morning stillness instead of shattering it. No one was being left behind, and they kissed again to be sure.
It was after Kate, a few weeks after, and everyone had thought that Pogue was angry but untouchable. Even the boys. No one expected him to shatter that afternoon and throw the half-full bottle of cherry soda, splattering it on the tree trunk. His temper was infamous, quickly over, but if he was going to be angry they had thought it would be right after that last, loud fight. Evidently not.
He stormed away from the group and heard them talking, didn't realize what was going on until Caleb came up behind him with one hand on his shoulder and Pogue nearly greeted him with a closed fist. He'd expected Reid.
Caleb talked. Pogue listened. Then Pogue talked, not even explaining but spilling words out into the leaves and the crisp near-spring air and at the end there was a scream, and fists pressed to his head. He was eighteen. He was all grown up now. Too old to cry.
But Caleb remembered that he had also been the first of them to fall in love, really seriously, with anyone. Even as awkward as he was about it, weren't they all supposed to be awkward? They were still just learning about this kind of thing. Allowances should be made.
Pogue shook his head. He didn't know about that, didn't know about any of it except that it hurt, everything hurt, and he just wanted it to stop hurting. Caleb sighed, and then was pulling him into his arms, and Pogue sobbed with gratitude and finally being able to let go, even if it was mostly because he couldn't keep it pressed up inside with warm, beloved arms around him. That was the part that he wasn't going to tell anyone about the breakup. He hadn't even told Kate.
Or at least, he didn't mean to tell him. But somehow it all came out in the discussion after that second storm of weeping, about the difference between being in love with someone and loving someone and the whole teenage infatuation thing. And whether or not he and Kate would have lasted through college anyway. What it meant to really be with someone. What stood in the way.
It came out when they were talking about committing and not committing and people never really getting over other people, and there were things he'd never told Caleb but the other boy could hear between his words anyway. And then there were hands pressed to wet cheeks and they looked at each other, scared, wondering. It was a shift. It was a change, and it wasn't anything Caleb had expected but somehow it didn't seem like it should be surprising. Maybe he should have seen the whole time. Maybe he should have known. Maybe, Pogue thought, he should have told him before.
His lips were wet when they kissed, and tasted of something more than salt.
Fandom: The Covenant
Characters: Caleb and Pogue, mostly
Word Count: 2,506 words
Rating: PG
Prompt: First Kiss
Summary: Five first kisses that may or may not have happened. Cross-posted all over the place, up to and including
lieutenantwitch, lover100, covenant_movie, covenant_fictioIt probably wasn't what Caleb had meant, but one phrase stuck in his head for months after it started. Sometimes it was good, other times it made him wonder just how long this was going to last. We're in college, he'd said. It's where you're supposed to experiment. Why aren't we experimenting?
Pretty good question, Pogue had thought, except that in the twenty and slightly plus years they'd known each other, even if the first few years were the blank space of infancy, he'd never thought of Caleb as anything but straight. The idea that something might happen hadn't gotten beyond the fantasy stage. And a few surreal dreams he'd wanted never to wake up from.
He still wasn't sure when Caleb figured it out. Before Luke, and that awkward moment when he'd brought the other guy over and Reid looked up from the couch with a flare of jealousy and anger. Tyler hadn't even blinked. Caleb had blinked, but hadn't said much of anything except, don't leave the pizza out this time. Pogue had called him a neat freak and they'd disappeared into his room.
Luke hadn't lasted long. He'd made himself right at home in their home, despite Pogue's oblique and finally blunt warnings not to. They were four boys, grown up together back home, and they wouldn't take it well if some guy came in and started acting like one of the boys. Luke had told him not to be such a girl and that was the end of him. Except that it wasn't. Reid probably would have 86'd him from the house if he'd been sprawled over the couch drinking their last beer again, but he hadn't. Pogue hadn't invited him over again. Caleb had kissed him first.
It was sweet. Painfully sweet. It was gut-clenching and chest-aching and too unreal for him to remember clearly, and sometimes he wished he did. Sometimes he didn't care. Caleb had kissed him with shyness and characteristic attention to detail and he had been too caught up in the amazement that it was real, the suspicion that it was just a dream. They had slipped apart after several minutes of gentle, chaste kissing and everything tingled. He felt every lash hitting the upper curve of his cheek when he blinked. He felt Caleb's breath on his mouth.
The next kiss was not so chaste. And the next. And then there were hands and his hand on Caleb's thigh and Caleb's arm around his waist and he was melting into the young man he had loved for years and still couldn't believe this was happening, but he wasn't going to protest any more. It was a different day and Caleb was leaning back against the couch pulling him on top of him and god, he was warm. Solid. He'd appreciated the other boy's body before in the locker room, in the pool, in moments when no one knew the significance of those looks, but never like this.
He hadn't meant for them to go here, not with what had happened, not with everything that was already confusing. He hadn't even meant for Caleb to know his porch door swung both ways, but once that was out he wondered if maybe it would help. He'd have questions. Maybe Caleb would trust him to give answers in a way that was safe.
Except then it had come out that his feelings for his friend weren't exactly filial, and that stirred the waters, made them murkier, darker, hiding whatever dangers lay beneath. It confused the issue, he could see the confusion flying across his friend's face and that wasn't what he wanted. He wanted to make things better, not wedge open wounds that bastard Chase had already inflicted. He wanted to help, not make things worse.
Even being hyper-aware of what he was doing didn't stop them from winding up almost nose to nose, backed up against a pool table with his hands on Caleb's face and tasting his breath. It wasn't romantic. It wasn't sexy. It was Caleb freaking out and using instinctively, too much power, and he had to get him to calm down and just breathe and mostly to calm down. Breath by breath, bit by bit, the panic and power ebbed.
And then Caleb kissed him.
And it was soft. And it was shy, and sweet, and tentative, and part of him said with a cynical snort that of course it was, he didn't have a clue what he was doing. His one experience with another guy had been, and, yeah, he didn't want to think about that.
Part of him was stuck in a cartoon world with exclamation points shooting out of the top of his head.
Most of him was pressing his hands tighter on Caleb's cheeks, cupping his face firmly even though he knew he shouldn't be and kissing back as chaste as he could. Was turning flips, his chest tight and actual tears springing to his eyes at how sweet it was and wishing desperately that it wasn't under these circumstances. Because everything was shadowed over with what Chase had done and there was no way to know right now if they were kissing because Caleb wanted it or because he wanted to understand. Or a way out. Or something else that had nothing to do with Pogue and everything to do with Chase.
Caleb tasted the tears. Stopped, panicking, and Pogue had to hold him and reassure him for the millionth time, only this was different, this was a line they had crossed together. And he didn't know what happened now. But he held him as tightly as he could and told him it would be all right, and made himself believe it so that Caleb would believe it too.
And even later that same day, somehow, they were on the couch and kissing. Hands sliding over hips, over jeans and under shirts and everything was hot and tight inside. And he didn't know what was happening.
He wasn't sure if it was the late hour or the one too many beers, or the hypnotic light of the television that had gone to infomercials because it was just that late. It might have been Reid leaning up against his legs from the floor and snoring, too. His foot was probably falling asleep. He still didn't want to move.
His eyes slid over in Caleb's direction, but the other boy wasn't asleep. It was hard to tell at first, though. Caleb's eyes were half closed, and he didn't think his friend had taken to sleeping with his eyes open, but then he took another drink of his third beer, fourth, Pogue wasn't sure. An uncharacteristic lot, but it was the end of their high school career, and they were celebrating.
Or they had been. He thought Tyler was passed out on the floor behind the couch somewhere. He'd seen his friend grab a blanket and a couch cushion and that was the last of him for the night.
Caleb yawned, moved to stand except Reid was in the way and he sat back down in a way that wasn't really sitting back down so much as falling over. Pogue grinned a little, shifting so that he could tug Caleb against him, one arm around his shoulders. It got him a funny look but, what the hell, they were both slightly drunk. It made for a good excuse.
Sooner than he expected Caleb was falling asleep on him, and at this angle Pogue figured he'd regret it when he woke up. He shook his friend's shoulder, meaning to get him to go to bed. "Hey…"
Caleb's eyes opened and they stared at each other for a moment, caught, deep and dark and Pogue's chest tightened too much for breath or speech. It wasn't that they'd never been this close before but not in years and never like this. He wanted to say something, do something, do anything to take away the mounting fear that this was going to go all wrong but he couldn't move with Reid on his leg like that. And Caleb was shifting anyway, sitting up and maybe everything would be okay.
Pogue looked down and away, and so he missed the expression on Caleb's face when he put his hands on his shoulders. He was biting his lip and staring at the tv to avoid saying or doing anything they might regret later. Like Caleb's hand on his cheek and oh god was that
His mind shut down as the kiss started, hands moving on instinct, arms sliding up and around him and holding on tight as the kiss deepened and made him breathless and flushed. Until he had to break the kiss just to come up for air and Reid was still snoring and it seemed like no time had passed. But Caleb was still there. And his lips felt for sure like they'd been kissed.
"Wha…?" They were drunk. It had to be the beer. Or the lack of sleep, or something else his mind couldn't think of because it was still stuck on the part where Caleb had kissed him.
"Reid said…" Caleb shrugged. "Why didn't you tell me?"
First thing in the morning wasn't his preferred time to go swimming, except at the cabin. As much as Pogue could be lazy, he liked the peace in the mornings, the sunrise and the breeze as long as it wasn't too cold.
Caleb joined him without a word, just a nod and a smile of greeting. They stripped down and changed into suits and started across the water, easy strokes rather than powering through it. They changed strokes a couple of times, alternating from their main to their secondary, never getting too far ahead, the one from the other.
Towels were waiting for them on the porch railing, Caleb's idea, because Pogue as usual had forgotten about afters. He grinned ruefully at his friend as they dried off, sat around on the porch talking. Neither of them wanted to go back inside.
Summer was almost over. Back to school soon, and their last year of college. They were starting to get a little edgy, leaving the safety of school once and for all and heading into as close to the real world as they were going to get. Their world wasn't like everyone else's. The worst, for them, was already over. Caleb didn't want to go back. Didn't want to leave it all behind.
Pogue smiled a little. He knew what he meant.
No matter where they went, they still had each other, right? It was the kind of conversation that wandered all over the place. And he wasn't sure what made him do it, except maybe some of the lingering fear of the four of them scattering off after college, but when his fingers brushed over the back of Caleb's hand it was with more meaning than he usually imbued in his touches. Caleb felt it. Looked at him.
He didn't explain, just kissed him. Soft, hesitant, but sure at least that if it wasn't welcome it wouldn't be offensive either.
But the moment stretched on and he felt Caleb's fingertips, hesitant but there, along the line of his jaw. And he realized that as shy as it was Caleb was kissing him back.
And just like that they were on their knees on the porch, towels still wrapped around them in scattered, half-draped fashion. A little cold, and pressing together for warmth. He didn't want to push the kiss but Caleb did, and he let him, a little. Tasting in his mouth, the way he tasted, the feel of his friend's tongue in his mouth made him give a little cry and break away to hold his face in his hands and rest against him, foreheads touching. He couldn't breathe, and he couldn't stop smiling, and it was the most wonderful feeling in the world.
They started to laugh. Soft, melding with the morning stillness instead of shattering it. No one was being left behind, and they kissed again to be sure.
It was after Kate, a few weeks after, and everyone had thought that Pogue was angry but untouchable. Even the boys. No one expected him to shatter that afternoon and throw the half-full bottle of cherry soda, splattering it on the tree trunk. His temper was infamous, quickly over, but if he was going to be angry they had thought it would be right after that last, loud fight. Evidently not.
He stormed away from the group and heard them talking, didn't realize what was going on until Caleb came up behind him with one hand on his shoulder and Pogue nearly greeted him with a closed fist. He'd expected Reid.
Caleb talked. Pogue listened. Then Pogue talked, not even explaining but spilling words out into the leaves and the crisp near-spring air and at the end there was a scream, and fists pressed to his head. He was eighteen. He was all grown up now. Too old to cry.
But Caleb remembered that he had also been the first of them to fall in love, really seriously, with anyone. Even as awkward as he was about it, weren't they all supposed to be awkward? They were still just learning about this kind of thing. Allowances should be made.
Pogue shook his head. He didn't know about that, didn't know about any of it except that it hurt, everything hurt, and he just wanted it to stop hurting. Caleb sighed, and then was pulling him into his arms, and Pogue sobbed with gratitude and finally being able to let go, even if it was mostly because he couldn't keep it pressed up inside with warm, beloved arms around him. That was the part that he wasn't going to tell anyone about the breakup. He hadn't even told Kate.
Or at least, he didn't mean to tell him. But somehow it all came out in the discussion after that second storm of weeping, about the difference between being in love with someone and loving someone and the whole teenage infatuation thing. And whether or not he and Kate would have lasted through college anyway. What it meant to really be with someone. What stood in the way.
It came out when they were talking about committing and not committing and people never really getting over other people, and there were things he'd never told Caleb but the other boy could hear between his words anyway. And then there were hands pressed to wet cheeks and they looked at each other, scared, wondering. It was a shift. It was a change, and it wasn't anything Caleb had expected but somehow it didn't seem like it should be surprising. Maybe he should have seen the whole time. Maybe he should have known. Maybe, Pogue thought, he should have told him before.
His lips were wet when they kissed, and tasted of something more than salt.