Thanks! Hope you like the new name and address!
|
[ fusion of souls ] by kHo
Soulmates are a tricky thing, even when you´re old enough to not really believe in it anymore. Especially then, sometimes. This connection to another human being, this visceral, kismet, undeniable unequivocal fusion of souls that happens despite yourself. When you meet that person that just gets you. That finishes your sentences. That knows you, inside, and outside, and better than even you do. That you can´t get away from, no matter how much you never thought you´d feel this way. Sometimes, most of the time actually, sex doesn´t even enter into it at all. Relationships turn sour, and they break apart, and they fall to the side. But friendships, the real ones, those stay. Every once in a lifetime, you find that soulmate that happens to be the right kind of soulmate, and you get married, and it stays. It stays, and it sticks, and you never stop loving them, or wanting them, or laughing with them. Usually though, usually your soulmates, the true salt of the earth kinds, are strictly platonic. It can´t be fabricated, and it can´t be forced, and it can´t be undone. It´s there or it´s not, and it never truly goes away. People drift and people part, but that connection will always be there even if they´re not. There´s that back and forth that´s easier than breathing, and it´s there from the day you meet till they day you die, and when it´s right, when it´s perfect, it´s so very close to physical attraction. So very easily confused with it as well. No one really would have thought people as opposite as Ben and Owen would find that between them. Ben, with his inherent uncomfortability, and his heritage and everything that entailed. With his comedic parents and his tendency to be morose. Owen, with his eternal laid backness, and his quicksilver tongue and even faster mind. The two of them were night and day, winter and summer, cold and warm, and they couldn´t have been more mismatched if they´d tried to be. Except maybe that´s precisely why they fit. Perhaps the ying found the yang and it twanged together the way peanutbutter and chocolate did. And no-one saw it coming, especially not them, but when it did it wasn´t surprising at all. A collective ‘of course´ was sounded through the halls of time, and since that day they´ve known they´d never find another person more suited to themselves and what they lacked and what they needed. They´d found their soulmate in one another. So it really didn´t give them much pause when they found themselves not feeling the need to rent two hotel rooms when they were on location. It didn´t bother them all that much to share a bed because hey, it´s just Owen. And yeah, it´s just Ben. It´s just the way it is, and nothing more. It´s just the way God, or whoever it is that´s in charge of such things, intended when he built these two people and connected them with that invisible string of his. It does give them pause though when they found themselves looking at the other for perhaps a bit too long. When Ben finds himself closing his eyes, confusion filling his mind, when Owen makes one of his many breathy gasps of amusement. When Owen finds his eyes resting on Ben´s thighs and wondering to himself about just when was it that Ben became so well toned. When eyes catch for too long, and hugs turn into caresses, and a ruffling of the hair turns into a cupping of the cheek. And just because it wasn´t surprising when it happened, it doesn´t mean it wasn´t unexpected. Just because when Owen leaned forward because he was laughing and Ben caught his lips on the upswing, it doesn´t mean that´s what Owen was looking for to begin with. Just because their hearts thudded in time and slowed down to a slow steady pulse of mutual arousal, it doesn´t mean that this is where it´s always been leading all these years. Except it probably has been, because once they´ve started they can´t stop. Once Ben´s lips are on Owen´s that collective ‘of course´ fills both of their heads, and it´s somehow reasonable that this too fits just right. Ben´s fist closes around Owen´s shirt and pulls him forward, and Owen´s arms snake around Ben´s body and pulls him close, and they wind up leaning into the wall for support because neither of them can trust their knees at this moment. When Ben groans into Owen´s mouth, Owen can´t help but whisper back. And when Owen´s breath catches as Ben´s fingers skate up under his shirt, Ben can´t help but buck against him and grind into his thigh. When Owen´s fingers clutch at the bottom of Ben´s shirt and lift, Ben doesn´t hesitate to pull back long enough for the shirt to fit past his head before delving back to Owen´s neck, licking, and biting, and tasting his way across skin he never admitted to himself that he´d craved. And then Owen´s shirt is off as well, and his fingers are fumbling on Ben´s jeans, and he´s whispering something about now and fuck and here and holyfuckingshitit´ssoright. And Ben´s answering, and telling him that yes, and he´s right, and godyeshowhaveweneverknown and other things that Owen can´t hear because the blood pounding in his brain is too much and too loud. And then Ben´s hand is on Owen, and Owen´s hand is on Ben, and he knew it would be dangerous but Owen can´t stop looking in Ben´s eyes. Those eyes that are deep and impenetrable and dark and hold the weight of the world and secrets enough for two lifetimes. And right now they´re shining with confusion and arousal and love and something else, something like fear, because God. God, this is their friendship they´re fucking with now. This is their friendship. But it feels too good to stop now, and what would be ruined must already be by now anyway, so Owen shuts those eyes up with his lips and his tongue and his teeth. He pulls Ben´s head forward and he winds his tongue in his mouth and he doesn´t let Ben pull away. And hasn´t it always been this way, Ben hesitating and Owen pushing. Ben having the brakes on while Owen´s got his pedal to the medal. And it´s right, somehow, that that´s true even now. And it´s not long before Owen´s coming and Ben´s coming too, and it´s explosions of light and muted noises and gulfing waves crashing over them, and the floor is ripped out from underneath them. The floor is refusing to right itself under their feet and they have no choice but to fall into each other and kiss and touch and take as much as quickly as they can because the daylight will be coming and with it will come clarity. And clarity, in situations like these, is a dangerous thing. But it won´t ruin anything, because that´s not how it works. Because they´re soulmates. Because they have this connection, this visceral, kismet, undeniable unequivocal fusion of souls that happened despite themselves. Because it can´t be fabricated, and it can´t be forced, and it can´t be undone. Because it´s there or it´s not, but most importantly, it never truly goes away. Ever.
|