Josh/Metis Fanfic, 15 pages, on going. Plz check it out! <3

curlyfry · Yoma Joined: 13 Mar 2008 Posts: 12

summery: May and Josh meet unexpectedly as partners of a time-share deal in Florida, six years after the painful end of their relationship. Can they repair the run down time-share condo? And wait--can they repair eachother's broken hearts?! (psh, of course they can! why else would I write this shit?!?)

Welll, this was going to be a contest entry, but it ran away w/ me and got really long! so I couldnt finish it in time! couldn't even come to the stopping point where I thought maybe I could hand it in anyways. I am REALLY bummed. Like really really bummed, b/c I worked so hard on this! and...and..those beautiful and tantalizing prints.... wahh!!
8 { *crys*

hahah *smacks self* ALright, enough of my whining!!!! hahah please read this, b/c I want to finish it and....I was working up to *coughmansexcough* haha but we'll see. Anyways, its not done, yet, but hopefully someone can enjoy this. Oh! and it was a response to the contest prompt about "Buying Back Time". so...yes... here it is?

Buying Time

May scrunched his toes deep into the sand and sighed. He liked the beach. Though a person might not think it by looking at him. He might have toned it down these days—lost the black nail polish, the armbands, all that spunk he used to flaunt back in high school—but the look still stuck with him, clung to the hems of his corduroy’s, fluttered through the grey fabric of his shirt, and danced in the strands of unkempt hair that curled around his ears. An ironic look, a little sad, a little wicked, a lot smart assed. At any rate, not so beachy. At age 25, Metis had left behind his emo roots, shed them in order to pass in the adult world, but it was strange; some mornings he would look up into the mirror as he was stumbling into his pants, tripping sideways, and he would swear he still felt just exactly like a kid.

But other times he knew better. He could see clearly that whatever jaded exterior he might once have put on—cheeky-grinned, snarky, world-wise teen he might have been—it was all a bit of a prop. Those days had actually been good times, so much less responsibility. He disliked his adult self. The anger, the jadedness, and the introversion, they were now the real deal. Refined and aged over six years, until they lay naturally over his pale features, and set like liquid in his dark eyes. The dorky grin was pasted on over the rest, not like back then, when it was the other way around.

Metis blew out a loud sigh. But geez, it’s not like he was ready to start popping the happy pills. And the beach was making it better, because Metis really did like the beach, whether it would look like he did or not. In fact, he had gotten rather into swimming during his college years, despite never having been much of an athlete. Although, Metis acknowledged with a grimace, he probably was not going to be doing much swimming on this trip. Rather more like, he’d be caulking. Or something.

Damn Charles! Even after all these years, Metis still found blaming Charles to be an effective (and disturbingly accurate) method of excusing himself from responsibility. Why, why, he asked himself, yet again, had he let Charles convince him that buying up Charles’ expired time-share would be a good idea? This washed-out little shore town somewhere in the boonies of Florida didn’t seem to be the paradise that his so-called best friend had described.

Well sureee it could boast the Manatee Information Center…that had seemed pretty damn swank. Not to mention an impressive four sq. miles of swamp-ridden national park. All in all, Fort Pierce, FL was a happening town. Of course, the beach wasn’t bad. Clean, empty, and the water: a deep, clear blue, even on a windy December day. Metis shoved his hands into his pockets and gave the beach one last, sweeping glance before trudging back toward his car. Just maybe this could be worth it, for next summer, for the beach. That is, if Metis could make it through the construction work that was looming imminently on the horizon.

Yeah, that’s right. Construction work. As in, loud, painful machinery…and drills…and…and saws…sharp, sawing, saws! And a Room Mate. As in, some strange beachy person, who was probably too happy, and who probably loved sawing things, and who would probably eat breakfast shirtless, or something, and Metis will have to socialize with him the whole time! Charles, that fucking jackass.

“Oh c’mon May, it’s just for a weekend.” Charles had scrunched up his nose, looking affronted that Metis should be so…well…affronted. As if he wasn’t justified in being upset when Charles had told him (after Metis had bought the time share—signed papers and all!) that during the winter, each share holder had to visit the condo to keep up its repairs. They did it in shifts or some thing. “Look on the brightside!” Charles had said. “I met my girlfriend when I was down there; you know, the hot one. With the nice ass.”

“You mean the one who has her eyebrow pierced?”

“Oh, wait, scratch that brightside; I forgot! You’re gay. Oh, so very gay. Don’t do hot girls with piercings.”

“Well, damn straight I’d pass on that one.” Metis grumbled. “She just sounds scary…Seriously, I’m worried about you.” Metis’ tone had pitched with false sympathy, “Is she abusing you, Charles? Didn’t you say she could kick your ass?” he snickered.

“You’re just a pussy May, that’s you’re problem.” Charles drawled, refusing to rise to the bait. “Oh, no, wait…being a pussy isn’t a problem for you. Someone does need to be the bottom, right?” Charles smiled his Cheshire cat smile. That catty-bastard smile. “I guess it makes sense that you like guys...”

“Yeah, well, go fuck yourself.” May muttered. “Look,” he began to plead, “I don’t know how to fix plumbing or whatever it is they plan to make me do down there! What if a pipe explodes and blows my head straight off in a gush of bloody water? Holy shit, that would be such a bad way to go—”

Charles had sighed. “Alright May, I’m gonna lay this out for you. Unless you do plan on dropping dead in the near future, you need to get your shit together. You’re between jobs again, acting all whishy washy whenever I keep telling you to move closer, and basically, I’ve had it with your bitch ass complaining. Whenever I mention it, my girlfriend just begs me to be sicked on you. She says that all you need is a little slapping around, so you should be thanking me.” Metis had appeared thoroughly chastised by that. He burrowed into his scarf a little bit further. “Think of this trip as a chance to regroup. Worse comes to worse, your Bob-the-Builder buddy will drop a wrench on your cranium and crack some sense into you. Now, how about you shut up about this?—hey, look, I’ve already bought your ticket!”

Metis climbed glumly into the rent-a-car, resenting Charles more than ever. The problem with that bastard was that he had this knack for always being right. So as soon as you washed your hands of all your shit, having blamed it on him—bam! It turned straight to gold, and then it was Charles who got all the credit. Metis was a bit worried that this sort of thing was about to happen again. He couldn’t deny that he really did need a chance to think things through. And maybe he was exaggerating about the whole construction work thing. After all, it was only a few repairs. How bad could the damage be?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“DID THIS HOUSE GET HIT BY A FREAKING HURRICANE?” Well that is what May wanted to scream. Instead he sat down on the curb with a thump, taking in the row of small, beat up, two-story condominiums. He was sitting in a little strip of parking lot, which was situated around the corner from Sharkies grease ball diner, and was wedged between the condos and a weedy overgrowth of scrubby trees and brush. The condo, his condo, had shingles missing, railing torn off the balcony, and a shattered window. Ok, so it wasn’t exactly shredded to pieces. But to someone with absolutely zero handy-man experience… well, fuck. He hoped to God there was nothing else wrong inside.

Wishing that Charles was present to receive an expressive series of kicks to the groin, Metis heaved himself off the curb and approached the door warily. He dug the key out of his pocket and inserted it into the doorknob, gripping with one hand and turning with the other. Nothing. Metis jiggled somemore. Not budging. He grabbed the doorknob and twisted the key to and fro with all the strength of his considerable frustration. The damn lock was stuck! Just as Metis was about to plant his foot against the door frame and put some elbow grease into it—the door jerked suddenly, then rushed forcefully toward Metis’ face as it was thrust open. WHAM.

“WHAT THE F—“

“Shit.” Metis groaned. Then he gave the stars dancing before his eyes a moment to stop spinning so gleefully. Slowly, he sat up from where he was sprawled on the cement porch. Luckily, he had managed to avoid the potentially lasting affects of solid door-to-face contact, but in his panicked haste, the back of his skull had not fared so well. Blinking, he peered up at the silent figure who stood frozen and poised above him. He sat up a little further and rubbed his eyes, taking in the tall, lean frame and athletic build of the man in the doorway.

He had short, dirty blond hair, the fringe of which just barely brushed his skin at mid-forehead…faintly golden skin which was furrowed a bit above the strong, down-turned eyebrows. Metis was momentarily breathless at the air of power that rolled off the man like a soothing current of water—light and flexible. Metis quickly shook his head, Christ what a cheesy thought. But damn those eyes were so intense, and damn—damn—Metis’ own eyes abruptly grew wider—even after six years I’d know that face anywhere!—holy sh—

“JOSH?” Metis practically shouted it, but it came out rather more strangled than he might have anticipated. “Josh?” No doubt about it, incredibly, yes, it was Josh. Josh in the flesh, coincidence of all coincidences, appearing from inside the condo that Metis had been about to enter. And stay in. For the weekend. And Josh came out of it. Josh…who Metis had not seen since highschool, when he had been horribly, madly, bat-shit-crazy in love with him. Like bat-shit-crazy. Metis’ gut wrenched, then turned over violently. This just couldn’t be happening.

Josh’s face went red straight down to his neck in a fierce blush. His lips moved momentarily before anything came out. “Mae—! I mean—uh, Metis!” There was a long pause, wherein the two faced off like a pair of jack-lit deer. “Hey, uh, are you ok?” Josh broke the silence, rubbing the crown of his head out of both commiseration and anxiety. “I mean, um, shit.” And then Metis felt a sharp stab of pain lance through the back of his skull.

He must have winced because Josh made some kind of hesitant half step forward. Then he crouched down awkwardly, his hand hanging indecisively just out of Metis’ reach. Metis gave Josh a hard glare, suddenly feeling irrationally angry. Part of it was that he felt incredibly overwhelmed, the kind of overwhelmed he used to feel at three AM the night before Midterms; like the universe was caving in, and like coping in any recognizable form was an absolute impossibility. The other part of it was just…Josh. Josh was nothing clear anymore, nothing clean and sharp in his mind. Too many emotions, too many memories, and too much of six years of failed relationships were tangled up with Josh in Metis’ head. It was too frustrating, too sudden, so Metis fell back onto glaring a death glare as he hobbled to his feet.

Josh rose with him and ushered him numbly through the door way. Josh stood sideways, pressed against the frame, and as Metis crossed the threshold, he brushed Josh’s chest with his shoulder, and their eyes met again. For an electric moment, the two fully came to terms with the reality of this situation. An understanding passed between them: they were once again in the same sphere of existence, against all the incredible odds of the universe. They would face their past this weekend. It was now or never.

Metis stepped into the condo, unconsciously allowing his hostility to drain away. As Josh shut the front door and rushed over to the fridge, Metis assessed his recently acquired real-estate asset. A half wall separated the kitchenette that he was standing in from a spacious living room with glass sliding doors at the far end. A staircase behind stylized wooden planks merged into the room’s right wall. A closet and a small, closet-like toilet, were set into said wall. As far as décor went, it was virtually non-existent. Simple wooden furniture, couch, brown, beige, off-white. It was uncluttered. And somehow, homey.

Josh was creating all kinds of clanking in the fridge. “Eh, um, sit down May. Er, sorry, um, sit down Metis!” Josh called over his shoulder. As Metis turned to take a seat in a green plastic chair, he finally took notice of the monstrous dog that was lounging underneath the circular fold-up table. It thumped its tail empathetically, and wriggled as though it wanted to move toward Metis but could not summon up the effort. With a thick, square face, long, wiry, grey hair, a whip-like tail, and nicked ears, this mutt had clearly seen better days. It was sort of ugly…in an adorable…grizzled kind of way.

“Hey boy,” Metis told it as he pulled up his chair, accepting a towelette full of ice from Josh. Metis pressed it gratefully to the base of his skull. “So, um, what’s his name?” he inquired, glancing at the dog, who continued to pound his tail into the linoleum.

A renewed flush of red briefly tinged Josh’s cheeks but then he grinned sincerely, albeit somewhat sheepishly. “Cable,” he admitted.

“For real?”

“Ok, he looks exactly like him!” Josh quickly declared. “How can you not see it!”

Metis smirked a little at Josh’s defensive tone. Typical that he would name his dog something dorky, upon assuming that it was safe to do so, since no one else would understand the reference. “Yeah, ok,” Metis said, feeling almost comfortable enough to laugh. “For a dog he does look strikingly similar.”

“Well, thanks.” Josh huffed. The two guys broke into slight smiles simultaneously, and just like that the air seemed to clear. “So, um, have you eaten yet?” Metis shook his head.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

An hour later found Metis freshly showered and towel-drying his hair as he stepped out of the bathroom. He had been relieved to find that the upstairs bathroom was somewhat more spacious than the one below. The upstairs bedroom was airy, and it seemed to suggest a sense of understated luxury. For one thing, it sported a tiny loft in the corner, which could be reached by way of a cramped spiral staircase. Below that, there was no wall, leaving the entire front face of the bedroom open to the first-story living room, in the manner of a balcony. Across the room, the opposite wall was filled by sliding glass doors that led to the battered porch that Metis had seen from the street.

Giving his hair another vigorous scrub, Metis strolled outside, tentatively peering over the torn railing to gaze at the parking lot. A moment later, he spied Josh appearing from around the corner, striding with his arms full of a large paper bag, which, Metis guessed, contained their lunch.

Metis had done some hard thinking about this situation during his shower. Although still suspended in a state of shock, Metis had accepted that his general feeling toward this coincidence was a heady cocktail of relief and curiosity. For years, Metis had told himself that reminders of his first love made him ache only in the same way that an adult aches on Christmas Eve, thinking of a youthful magic that had once been so vibrant, and so sweet. He was convinced that by now he merely felt… nostalgic; nostalgic toward something beautiful that had met an ugly end. It was a relief to think he might be able to obtain a bit of closure, might be able to erase away some of the smear that the conclusion had left across the rest of his memories.

On the other hand, the curious part of him was dying to pick a fight. Despite everything, there were still embers of resentment buried beneath all his rationalizations; a small, perverse piece of him hungered to see what kind of destruction could occur if he fanned those embers into flames.

And then again— Well. There were other… embers… that Metis’…curiosity… also wouldn’t mind sparking into a blaze… He liked to think that these days he was mature enough to be straight* with himself, and so, he wasn’t about to ignore the fact that his attraction to Josh was as strong as ever . Metis heard loudly and clearly the little voice in his head that begged him, get Josh into bed! He knew that this weekend might be his last chance to sample that body that used to torment him in dreams.

*(A/N: 'straight w/ himself', that was unintentionally ironic X D)

Thinking it over in the shower he had sneered down at himself, seeing the effect that the thought of it had had on his own body. A final, farewell-my-love, glory fuck with an old flame. It certainly sounded sexy…dramatic, romantic, intense. But Metis also knew better; knew that one night stands were only thrilling until you were staring at your partner over a soggy bowl of Corn Flakes. By the next morning, all it amounted to was having satisfactorily scratched a particular itch.

Below him, Josh had glanced up and caught sight of Metis. He hefted the bag a bit on his shoulder, indicating his success at scavenging up a meal, and grinned widely. Metis gave him a cheesy thumbs-up then turned to head back downstairs. It wasn’t like he had been a man-slut or anything, (contrary to Charles’ biting and entirely unwarranted opinion!) but, Metis had sown a few of his wild oats, so to speak. It had just been a phase! In any case, he had enough experience to know that seducing Josh into a romp for the sake of a teenaged fantasy would not accomplish anything more than sex with any other stranger would. He didn’t want to tarnish the memory of something that once had been based off of genuine sentiment…

Damn, by the time he reached the kitchen, his head hurt. Josh was unloading greased up parcels of food wrapped in paper from the bag. Cable stood next to him and was enthusiastically wuffling into each food item as he sniffed it, his head easily resting on the table edge. “Eww,” Metis griped. “Don’t sniff it and then leave it, Cable. Josh, teach your dog some manners.” Metis affectionately pushed Cable’s large and drooly face away from his lunch.

“A real man takes what he wants, right, Cable?” Josh teased in a gruff deadpan. He winked at Metis.

“I can see you haven’t changed, tough guy,” Metis replied sarcastically as he pulled up a chair. “Woahhh, is this a Milkshake!”

“Yea… I thought you liked Milkshakes?” Josh passed him a carton of fried clams, averting his eyes.

“I actually haven’t had one in forever. Sweet!” Metis stated as he grasped the large frozen beverage and began slurping earnestly. “Mmhh.” Josh gave him a surprised glance which quickly turned blank.

“Why?” He asked distractedly. After a moment of avidly guzzling the cold liquid, and then going temporarily cross-eyed from the brain freeze, Metis smacked his lips, and swallowed. A wicked glint suddenly caught in his eye.

“I don’t want to become one of those flabby grad students, you know?” Metis let his hands trail briefly down his torso before patting his stomach innocently. “Need to preserve my boyish figure,” He grinned. Josh’s eyes followed Mays fingers like they were tied to them by tether, assessing the still-delicate figure of his one-time boyfriend.

Finally, he tore his eyes away. “I could see the concern.” Josh remarked off-hand, then dug into his soft shell crab in order to mask his amusement at May’s resultant pout. Minutes passed and they ate in silence, Metis sulking as he obstinately sucked on his milkshake. Cable whined and lifted his head. Metis surreptitiously dropped a handful of fried clams under his chair. Josh took a breath.

“Have you forgiven me, at all?” Straight out. Like he couldn’t take for another second the weight with which that question bore down upon his conscience. Metis met Josh’s steady gaze.

“What,” he taunted, refusing to make this easy, “For calling me fat?”

“Yeah,” Josh dismissed Metis’ petty cruelty in clipped tones, “And…for—” Here Josh fumbled, not so much embarrassed as at a loss for how to phrase the end of that sentence. Metis looked away, appearing as though he was ready to spit out a sour taste. He threw Josh a hard glance and then was apparently too overcome by his anger to carry on being obtuse.

“For trampling all over my heart, you mean,” he lashed out. Josh did not reply; he only continued to wait. Metis turned to face him fully, his face drawn in concentration and his eyes narrowed in a pained resentment that seemed to have lost no passion to the passing of six years.

As he took in Josh’s set features, the face that was so familiar, so strongly imprinted into his memory—the unwavering blue eyes, the serious turn of the lips—Metis wanted to say ‘yes’. He marveled at how the face could be so unchanged by time, only different in its increased fullness of character. And he felt ‘yes’; his body and his heart wanted, ‘Yes. I did forgive you’, as he sat across the cheap table from Josh, enjoying the warm breeze that blew through the open doorway and filled the quiet condominium. Josh stared back at Metis, reading his pursed lips and narrowed eyes.

“It looks like no. You never did forgive me.” The words were wry and resigned, but they had a quiet, sad quality. Then Josh began almost gently—“Would it help…if you had some explanation?”

Metis gauged Josh’s nearly hopeful look. He thought he should feel more surprised at how all of this was so close to the surface—it had been simmering just there since he walked through that door. “I looks to me like I would just be humoring you,” May observed, but he didn’t have the heart to stare Josh down as he said it. He glowered at the table edge. “I’d say you’ve been dying all this time for a chance to…to justify your actions, or something.” Metis paused, “Which makes me think…” He allowed his gaze to rise back to Josh’s face, “that at least maybe it was real…” That you were just a coward. That maybe before you turned pissant…what we had was the real deal.

Josh was too much of a stranger now for Metis to say all that (in good conscience) to his face. They weren’t on terms that implied automatic pardon to each other due to affection. They would have to play within the bounds of civility if they were going to survive this weekend. Metis fidgeted a bit, scowling. “Do you know what I mean?” He concluded impatiently.

Josh gripped his soda. “I know what you mean, Metis,” He gravely acknowledged. He gave the man sitting across from him a frank stare. They were trying to be mature about this. Damn it was confusing to pretend polite objectivity on such an intimate topic. But neither wanted to let on that the subject was in fact horribly raw… Josh leaned forward ever so slightly. “I was for real though. Everything I said I felt for you was real.” He shook his head, frustrated. His voice took on an almost pleading tone. “I’m sorry if what I did made you think otherwise… I didn’t want that. I never wanted—for you to second guess what we had—” he ran a tense hand through his hair. “I mean,” Josh back-peddled a bit, reeling in the intensity: “those were nice memories for me Metis…” He smiled crookedly, “you know, my first boyfriend, and all…” He trailed off, his features uneasy, the question hanging in the air.

Metis could hardly believe what he was hearing. For a moment, he again wondered at how he could be having this conversation. It was almost frightening how natural it seemed, to be here together, although it should have been impossible. Up until several hours ago, Metis had been sure that he would never see Josh again in this lifetime. Yet facing him now, in this calm and cool kitchenette, everything seemed so naturally immediate; all of Metis’ eighteen-year-old emotions seemed incredibly fresh, and he just did not understand.

Here was Josh saying that he had never meant for Metis to doubt the sincerity of his feelings—but—that was just—bullcrap! All Metis could remember about his senior summer was feeling so goddamn confused about where he stood, with Josh sending mixed signals out left and right. As those months came to a close, Metis had become convinced that Josh was pulling every fucking string to downright push Metis away. It was always, “I have to work, May.” “Look I’m busy tonight.” And, “I just don’t think it’s a good idea to go any further right now.” That was what hurt Metis the most. Josh just getting up and waltzing out right in the thick of things. Just pulling back and snapping out of it like it was nothing. Leaving May with a warmth gone cold, and making him want to cry out of hurt and frustration. So what was this shit about how Josh cherished those memories?

Metis’ eyes fairly crackled with resentment. “Yeah.” He said shortly. He pushed back from the table and began angrily gathering up the remains of his meal. “I guess.” Without making eye-contact Metis began cramming his warm milkshake into the trash bin. Josh watched him stalk through the small space like a cat whose ire had been thoroughly tripped—he was all a-bristled: practically hissing.

Metis stood before Josh’s front door, wishing he didn’t feel so insecure. He needed to know once and for all if this relationship had any shot at lasting. If he were to look at things logically, he supposed that it should be clear that a mutual split was very much in order. In two days, Metis would be leaving for college.

With the current state of their relationship, it didn’t seem likely that they had any chance at staying together long-distance. But May couldn’t just let it close out like that—just let it die without a sound—without a finger lifted in protest—! Despite the uncertainty of the past several weeks, Metis couldn’t easily forget the feel of Josh against him, that first time, grinding desperately into one another, gripping hips and shoulders and moving blindly…

Every time that Metis watched Josh hustle out the door without so much as a good-bye shoulder-jab, he searched himself for a justification—any justification—for putting himself through that kind of bullshit. Always, he found that he did have one guarantee, an anchor that he could grasp onto—and he reached for it now. A memory: Josh’s steady expression, and a kiss that seared straight through his doubts. “People like you don’t like people like me,” May had told him. But Josh had filled Metis’ mouth with reassurance. Metis was resolved to trust in that assurance, he couldn’t… damnit, he didn’t want to lose that!

Besides, more than anything, Metis was unprepared to relinquish the dorky best friend he had discovered. Sometimes he thought that he liked Josh best when they were playing Halo and just laughing their asses off like a pair of thirteen year olds.

“Hey!” Josh’s hushed voice startled Metis out of his reverie and he jumped a little as the front door swung open. “…What are you doing here?” Metis frowned at him.

“Can I come in?” Josh glanced over his shoulder. His eyebrows were furrowed strongly in a way that Metis knew did not bode well. Josh was upset about something. His hand slid down to meet Metis’ but he stepped forward, herding them both out onto the front porch, and closing the screen door softly behind him.

“My parents turned in early,” Josh apologized. “I don’t want to wake them.” We’re out side, Metis thought cynically, so why are you still whispering?

“Josh,” Metis began, “you know I’m leaving on Saturday, right?” Josh’s hands tensed in his and the other boy dipped his chin in a nod. Metis though he might as well plunge right in. “So then, what is going to happen to us? I mean don’t you think that it’s a bad sign that we haven’t even talked about it yet?” Josh was looking more pissed off by the second. Glancing away, he wordlessly led Metis to sit on a short bench that was propped against the side of the house. Josh himself leaned against the porch railing—an arrangement which Metis found to be patronizing.

“May, I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately.” He flicked his gaze up to Metis’ face, but it was in shadow, with only a sliver of cheekbone glimmering there like porcelain. Josh twisted his hands together so that his knuckles stood out. His anger seemed to be on a short tether tonight. “I should have discussed this with you a long time ago—but—I didn’t want to hurt you.” His voice grated with tightly controlled frustration. “Besides, I really don’t think you’re going to take this very well at all, but—” Here Josh stopped as if he had suddenly received a shock.

He looked blankly ahead, his wandering gaze momentarily stumbled to a halt, and his entire body seemed to violently flinch. Then he whirled around abruptly and drove his fist into the porch’s wooden support beam. Metis caught his breath, starting in place. “DAMNIT!” Josh shouted. “Goddamnit May! We’re done! Jesus fucking Christ,” the flat of his hand struck the beam again, “what does it take to for you to take a fucking hint!”

Josh stood stooped over, one arm still braced against the beam. Slowly he turned his head. Metis met his eyes, which were no longer blue in the darkness, and found them blistering in the intensity of their stare. Metis felt his scalp tingle from the shock, his hands were damp, his mouth dry, his heart—galloping. It was hammering so hard that he was beginning to feel nauseous. For a moment, it was all that he could do to not collapse under Josh’s scorching stare, as he gathered himself. Like a pinwheel caught in a gale, Metis’ mind could only turn over and over, replaying Josh’s lips in his hair, Josh’s voice saying earnestly, “I like you.” When Metis glanced at Josh again, he found him glaring stonily ahead of him, at the front door which perhaps he was impatient to walk back through.

Metis got to his feet unsteadily; he kept swallowing but there was nothing to say, really. It seemed to him that he could actually feel his heart breaking, and it felt like being kicked in the stomach. His body was running hot then cold in waves. He pressed the heels of his palms against eye lids, as though to push back the tears that were forming there. His features were so twisted by emotion that it was difficult to discern whether it was hurt or anger that distorted them. Josh only knew that it was an expression that he never wanted to see on Metis’ face again. The one section of Josh’s brain that wasn’t telling him to drop dead was wondering how Metis’ eyes could look so alike to those of a wounded deer, when he appeared to be as spitting mad as a viper.

“J-Josh. Josh—” was all that he could manage. He wanted to say something biting, something that could cut Josh, get down to the bone. But nothing came.

“Just go May.” Josh did not look up. Without another word, Metis climbed down from the porch, hit the front lawn and kept walking. He couldn’t seem to understand how it had come to this. When he looked back, just once, he saw Josh leaning over the railing, head bowed. Behind him, a rectangle of light, filled by the silhouette of a man; Josh’s father stood behind the screen door.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ok, so there's (hopefully?) more to come. Im sorry for pairing charles w/ a girl, but it was part of the plot, so I had to do it. Besides I figured that he could be bi or just a very ambiguous and free-spirited straight man, who happens to find his friend Metis to be cute? Also, the whole thing w/ Josh's dad--he's not just being a pussy b/c he is afraid his dad is judging him--there's a little more to it than that. ANYWAYZ HOney syn!!!!!!!!!!! <33333333

espec. the latest page!!!!!!!!!!!! forehead kiss: Kyaaaaaaaaaaaaaa = 3

(edit: fixed the dog thing, thanx Opt out!)

Jadeh · Posted: Tue Mar 18, 2008 1:06 am Post subject:

Oh... wow...
MORE PLZKTHXBAI.
It's... superbly well-written, and... Wow.
Awesome.
Please gimmee more soon?
<3
_________________
"I hope they reproduce so I can kill their babies..." -Gill.

catgirl26 · Yoma Joined: 18 Mar 2008 Posts: 3

Wow, what a neat, original idea! Can't wait to read more of it, and see how they resolve their issues. I'm also curious as to what made Josh act like such an asshat back in high school! Wonderful writing, good grammar and spelling. I'm excited about this!

Lucifiel · Posted: Tue Mar 18, 2008 2:16 am Post subject:

Nice! Really nice ^^

Can't wait for the rest Very Happy

_________________
I've always found paranoia to be a perfectly defensible position...

shoxnoia · Yoma Joined: 02 Mar 2008 Posts: 12

Oo. I love this. <3

Update soon plz~~

honeystick · Yoma Joined: 14 Mar 2008 Posts: 13

Well done! I'd love to read more.

Villanelle · Posted: Tue Mar 18, 2008 6:19 pm Post subject:

Curly-chuuu, J00 are a FANFIC GOD. ;o;

I'm seriously in love with this story right now, I mean, I could feel the tears brimming around the part where you ended this. It's so sad that you didn't have the time to enter it into the contest (I bet it would've won, its is THAT AWESOME), but this is so wonderful to read...! And it seems so true to the characters also. I can totally see May and Josh set in this type of predicament.

Oh my gosh, I CAN'T WAIT TO READ MOAR!! I'll be checking back regularly to see how you build this up to mansex <333

Opt Out · Divine Joined: 03 Mar 2008 Posts: 108

Your writing is fantastic, very intense. Please do continue this!

I feel so bad for May right now, but I feel bad for Josh too. Especially with his father lurking.... it's like... foreshadowing or at least a hint as to what happened. Suspense~

On a grammatical note, there are a few places where it needs some tweaking. The part where you're writing about the dog. "monstrous a dog". It's not a big deal, obviously. It looks like you changed your mind about putting a dog and added the adjective. There were a few other things (very small things, here and there), maybe I should consider Beta reading or editing for a living...

Weighted Companion Cube · Yoma Joined: 01 Mar 2008 Posts: 21

Wow, this is amazing. A few grammatical errors, but everyone makes typos, and there were like, two. Wow.

Woooow.

Now I need to be unlazy and type up the shit I wrote over vacation. ><

gigglepotomus · Yoma Joined: 02 Mar 2008 Posts: 30 Location: um... @_@

this is great. keep up the good work. Very Happy

curlyfry · Yoma Joined: 13 Mar 2008 Posts: 12

guys, thank you soooo much for all the ecouraging comments!!!!! i am so glad that you all liked it = ] whenever anyone posts something, i find that the comments are at least equally as entertaining as the origional submission X ) theyr fun to read. I will try to give you all more story soon!

coolchan · Yoma Joined: 10 Mar 2008 Posts: 17 Location: in your MIND

bellamai · Yoma Joined: 09 Apr 2008 Posts: 10 Location: Saturn

Oh my god, you made me cry. Like, I actually freaking CRIED. Not the all-out sobbing thing, but the sitting there with your mouth half open and tears just falling. Damn, I need to stop putting myself intoi stories. It's unhealthy.

And I even made an account just to tell you that. Congrats, your story was amazing. Keep it up! It CANNOT end on that!

Villanelle · Posted: Wed Apr 16, 2008 7:55 pm Post subject:

PorcelainDoll · Yoma Joined: 26 Apr 2008 Posts: 11

As soon as I read this, I did the same thing bellamai did, and made an account.
This story was absolutely beautiful.
I cried at the end. v_V;
I felt so bad for May when Josh said that.
PLEASE update it soon.