Most Likely Loving You

by HOP

(mirrors http://s2b2.livejournal.com/25692.html)

Connor hated him. No, he didn’t just hate him. He hated him with a passion, loathed him with his innermost core of being until all his thoughts were filled with images of him and his irritatingly silky golden locks and his annoyingly perceptive chocolate brown eyes and his aggravatingly perfect lips and he just wanted to take those lips and suck on them and—

Connor halted his train of thought.

That last part is off the record, he told himself firmly. Addison Mitchell is the bane of my existence. Period.

Dear Reader, you may be confused at this point. To bring you up to date to Connor’s aversion to Addison Mitchell, let us zoom back in time to the birth of The Hatred.

13 years ago…

“Addy! Over here!” called 6-year-old Connor.

Addison hurried over to his best friend. He was lucky, he mused as only he could, to have such a good friend, rare when his father moved a lot. He sat down next to Connor and opened his lunch box.

Oh! A Fruit Roll-Up! Addison’s cherubic face lit up with delight.

Connor peeked into his friend’s lunch box.

A Fruit Roll-Up! he thought with no little amount of excitement.

“Addy,” Connor began shyly. “Addy, can I have that?” His chubby finger pointed to the much-desired snack.

Addy’s youthful heart broke. He wanted the delicious faux fruit snack for himself, but he wanted to please his wonderful friend. After a brief internal debate, he sadly relinquished the snack.

“Oh, thank you, Addy!” Connor enthusiastically hugged him. “I love you!”

Addy’s large brown eyes widened with shock, and his cheeks became tinged with pink.

Carefully, ever so carefully, Addison whispered, “I love you, too, Connor.”

But alas, the words never reached Connor’s ears, for he had already leapt up and was now engrossed in a rousing game of Tag, with only the crumpled Fruit Roll-Up wrapper remaining to mark where he had once sat. If young Addison’s heart broke with the relinquishment of his beloved Fruit Roll-Up, Connor’s unintentional snub resulted in Addy’s heart being torn out and stomped on a multitude of times. From that moment on, Addison vowed to exact his revenge. But as it would happen, after late nights of nefarious plotting, the vengeful Addison found that his plans would have to wait due to his father’s much unwanted (by Addison, at least) promotion, which brought them to a new city. For the next thirteen years, Addison harbored his hatred deep within his heart, and so The Hatred was only to be revealed during Addison and Connor’s first year of college.

Back to present day…

As Connor tripped about his merry way to university, he pondered about his one-time best friend.

Thirteen years really change some people, thought Connor.

Having heard from his mother that “that darling little Addy Mitchell” was coming back to town and “going to the same school as you! Won’t that be fun?” Connor gamely agreed to meet with his childhood best friend for dinner. That, he soon found out, was a mistake. Faded memories of the sweet, thoughtful boy from his youth were shattered as soon as Connor opened the door, when Addison disdainfully eyed Connor’s body and then smirked with haughty contempt. Connor, unsure of how to react to being checked out by his former kindred spirit (their being kindred spirits having been Addison’s idea, not his), but definitely angered by the smirk (which he would become woefully familiar with in the following months), decided to reserve his own judgment for the moment and held back a brusque retort.

The fact that Addison had grown up quite a bit and quite nicely had no effect on Connor’s reservation, either. In any case, the rest of the evening was to be no better as Addison, who had apparently lost his introverted ways and had become a social chameleon, chatted it up with everyone in the room while reserving discreet scowls and glares at Connor.

Connor didn’t know why Addison hated him. All he knew was that he now most definitely hated Addison. It was all because of that annoying little smirk that popped up every time he looked at him, and the way he managed to trip Connor every time he brought out a dish, and the way that lean, slender body of his teased him so and—

Oops,Connor thought. That has got to stop.

Connor took a deep breath in hopes of ridding himself of those oh so tantalizing (and by tantalizing, Connor of course meant outrageous and disturbing) images of Addison running through his head.

Then, a familiar voice called out teasingly, “What’s wrong, Connor? You’re not hyperventilating, are you?”

Connor tensed immediately. That voice! That soft, mellow voice that rang so (not pleasantly, Connor quickly interjected) distinctly (much better, Connor thought.) always made Connor bristle in defense, a response cultivated from that first disastrous dinner that took place many months ago and all the unfortunate meetings thereafter.

“It can’t be that you’ve missed me so much you’ve started hyperventilating!”

“What do you want?” Connor snapped, regarding Addison sourly.

Addison smiled a bit. It was not a particularly nice smile, but it still maintained a rather turn-thy-heart-to-goo quality to it. But Connor’s heart was still solid. Or at least that’s what he told himself.

“Just here to chat, ” he said casually. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it? ”

Connor cursed inwardly.

Of course it’s been a while. That’s generally what happens when one party goes through thorough lengths to avoid the other party.

Such lengths included switching several classes abruptly through the year as well as moving suddenly and renting a new apartment under a false name. (For the record, Connor maintains that his actions were both normal and justifiable. However, he does not care to waste time debating over what constitutes as normal and justifiable.)

“—this Saturday?”

“Huh? ” Connor questioned, in his most eloquent manner.

“Yes or no, Connor.”

Does he want me to say yes or no? What did he ask me? Maybe this is one of those stupid mind games where he wants to me to say yes, but I know he wants me to say yes, but he knows I know he wants me to say yes, so I say no, but then he knows that I know that he knows that—

Connor’s brain short-circuited.

“Sure,” Connor blurted out.

“See you Saturday, then,” Addison said, his tone lofty and his trademark smirk apparent on his face.

Wait, I didn’t want to do that. I take it back, I meant no!

Connor hurried to think of some way to tell Addison he actually meant “No, I hate you and I never want to see you again” as his mouth set up a time to meet on Saturday. Then Addison walked away, his confident frame searing itself into Connor’s eyes.

Why? Connor thought desperately. Why did I say yes? I knew I should’ve said no! If I meet him this time, then…

Connor’s usually more-than-sufficient ego shrank at the memory of his past encounters with Addison. While some took place at various parties and others happened to be chance encounters (which, curiously, occurred on a fairly regular basis), each time, Addison became more insolent, and his crimes (as Connor chose to think of them) against Connor grew exponentially to the number of encounters. While Connor gave Addison a chance to apologize for whatever atrocity he had committed then and in the past each time they met, every time, Connor huffed away from their meeting angrier than before and with what felt suspiciously like a loss on his side.

Saturday approached rapidly and Connor became resigned to the fact that he would have to face Addison. Apparently “sick with mono (with a very convincing scratchy-throat voice)” and “my grandmother isn’t feeling well (complete with sincere voice hitches and a hint of sobbing)” weren’t plausible enough excuses, and Connor couldn’t make his stomach calm down enough to call a third time and tell him straight out, “I hate you.”

And then, his time was up. Saturday, or OMGno Day, as Connor had taken to calling it, arrived, and his doorbell rang at precisely noon, as agreed on (more or less). Connor sullenly opened the door and got a face full of flowers. As he sputtered a bit, Addison glided into the small apartment, his critical, luscious (No, just critical! Connor sternly thought.) eyes taking in every aspect of the suspiciously clean living quarters (Connor would like to make a note here that he did not clean his apartment just for Addison, but simply had some extra time on his hands.), but to Connor’s surprise, made no snide remarks of any sort. Instead, he merely turned to Connor, and simply said, “Let’s go.”

Connor, momentarily flustered (but, of course, quickly and smoothly recovering) by the lack of instigation on Addison’s part, set the rather large flower bouquet aside and away they went.

To Connor’s further surprise, the day went without a hitch. They walked around in the park, window shopped for a bit, and ate a late lunch at a charming little diner that Connor had never noticed before while Addison told various little anecdotes. As lunch wound down and both boys were down to their last slices of peach pie, there was a lull in the conversation. Connor considered it, as many of things that occurred that day, strange because it was very comfortable, and he was very comfortable and warm and fuzzy feeling. Maybe it was all the pie? In any case, feeling as at ease as he was, Connor allowed the words to stream from his mouth.

“Addy, why did you hate me so much before today?”

Time froze, along with Addison’s face. For the first time since his return, it seemed the chameleon was out of place. Connor, however, did not cherish the moment of revelation, as he had sworn he would so many times, but instead, frantically wracked his brain for some way to take back his question, his stupid, stupid question before giving up and mourning the loss of the beautiful friendship that had taken the day to build.

Connor viciously thought, Stupid pie! You made me feel too happy and comfortable and—

“I. Didn’t hate you.” Addy’s warm brown eyes offered Connor a way out, a way to smooth things over and move on.

Connor yearned to accept Addison’s simple answer, but couldn’t (Not just because he was indignant about the injustices which had befallen him by Addison’s hands, but also because it would really, truly be wrong. Really.).

“Liar.” And with that word, Connor stood, threw some bills on the table, and stalked out, disregarding Addison’s calls.

Why? Why didn’t I just say, “Sure, OK, let’s go see a movie now!” Connor berated himself as he stumbled into his apartment and staggered to his bedroom to mope.

And then, he was there, mildly disheveled and a little out of breath (and yet, Connor noted, still irritatingly good looking). Without a word, he pushed Connor onto the bed.

“Kindly unhand me,” Connor said in his haughtiest manner.

“I never hated you,” Addison replied, his voice tight.

Connor rolled his eyes. “Do you seriously not remember the entire period after you moved back here? Then let me remind you. Until today, you have not looked at me without a sneer on your face or talked to me without degrading me. Then, we went out today, and you know what? It was fun. I actually really enjoyed myself until you lied about the whole hating me thing. How can you say you didn’t hate me when you’ve acted the way you did? And why’d you just suddenly change? Seriously, what’s wrong with you? I mean, just because you’re somewhat hot and everything doesn’t give you the right to be all bipolar. Now will you let go of—”

Dear Reader, you may see that Connor has stopped talking. Worry not, he did not have a heart attack as a result of his impassioned rant. No, Reader. Little danger is to come of him, aside from potentially suffocating. Although, even if he were to suffocate a bit, it doesn’t seem as though he would mind too much.

Addison’s lips were on Connor’s, hard and still at first, but as Connor showed no resistance, his lips became more pliant, easing over Connor’s shocked mouth until he thawed, becoming both eager and responding. In between light, peppered kisses and a frantic rush to get rid of Connor’s shirt, Addison whispered, “I’ve always loved you.”

Connor’s eyes flew open and he gaped at Addison, impossibly surprised. Before he could voice his confusion, however, Addison once again latched onto his mouth, ravenously attacking what had for so long been withheld from him. Connor moaned as Addison thrust his tongue against Connor’s.

“Why aren’t you getting naked?” Connor grumbled (or something like that, although it’s hard to tell through the sloppy kisses they shared, eager to taste each other).

Having said that, Connor rolled over and pulled Addy to the side of the bed. Then, he tore off Addison’s shirt, haphazardly throwing it onto what had been his meticulously clean floor; next came the pants and then—

Connor sighed with appreciation at the bulge nicely outlined by Addy’s skin-tight briefs. Carefully inching down the offending briefs (nothing against them, they were just in the way), Connor freed Addy’s hardened cock and lowered his head. Lifting his eyes to meet Addy’s, Connor pressed a kiss to the seeping tip. At the soft kiss, Addy closed his eyes and moaned, unable to look into Connor’s eyes without feeling the danger of coming far too soon.

Parting his lips, Connor slipped out his tongue, dragging it up and down Addy’s cock as Addy gasped and reached down to fist Connor’s hair. Having tasted every inch, Connor moistened his lips and opened his mouth, lowering his head to take in Addison’s whole length. No longer thinking, but moving based on pure feeling, Addy rhythmically thrust back and forth into Connor’s mouth. Connor felt glorious as Addy pounded into him, reveling in the slurping and his aching jaw and Addy’s heady smell and the sheer feeling of purpose he felt when Addy moaned, like he did every time Connor tightened his mouth just so.

Addy’s grip on Connor’s hair tightened and he managed to gasp out, “I…I’m going to come!”

With that promise, Addy delivered most copiously, his head jerking up and Connor’s name bursting from his lips. Connor sucked hard, milking Addy for all he had. Once the streams of come subsided and Addy’s cock softened, Connor slid his mouth off with a squishy pop. Connor licked his lips and quipped, “So, that was fun, wasn’t it?”

In response, Addy reached down and grabbed Connor, his eyes intense. Pushing him down, Addy covered Connor’s mouth with his lips, tasting his own come on Connor. His fingers ghosted down Connor’s body, stopping to play with his nipples. As he tugged and rubbed them in turn, Connor arched his back in pleasure. Soon, Addy’s mouth joined his clever fingers and he nipped at the hardened peaks, smoothing out any pain with gentle sucking.

Connor gasped, “S-stop!” Addy froze, lifting his head. Connor stuttered (although he’ll never admit to it), “I-it’s just that I-I’m already really h-hard and…” he trailed off. Addison understood immediately and smirked. If Connor hadn’t been so needy at the moment, he would have had to hit Addison.

Addy pulled off Connor’s pants and underwear with little fanfare, pausing only to give Connor’s cock a quick pull (because really, who could resist?). Then, he turned Connor around and parted his cheeks to reveal the most charmingly puckered hole he’d ever seen.

“Lube,” Addy demanded.

Wordlessly, Connor pointed to the drawer by his bed and after a bit of rummaging, Addy found it. With a generous amount coating his fingers and no little amount of anticipation, he began to push his fingers into Connor. Connor, however, surprised him with a hearty yell.

“Owwww! Owowow!”

Addison hurriedly pulled his fingers out. “Wh…What’s wrong? You aren’t… Are you a…a virgin?”

Connor glared at him. “Only with guys.” His eyes dared Addison to say it was a problem.

Unwilling to say anything about what had quickly become an Awkward Situation, Addy paused, then shrugged and said, “Well, we’ll have to save that for another day.” The chameleon was back in control.

He flipped Connor back around, and leaned over his half-flaccid cock. After a bit of coaxing (read: much fondling), it was erect once again, and without further adieu, Connor found his cock enveloped in Addy’s mouth, which was both deliciously warm and wet. Addy smoothly glided up and down Connor’s length and Connor was unable to keep from lifting his hips in time with Addy’s movements. Addy’s hands snaked up to Connor’s chest and played with his nipples once again and Connor was hard, more so than he had ever thought was possible. The feeling of Addy at his cock and his chest and the sight of Addy’s soft blonde head bobbing up and down between his legs caused Connor’s senses to overload and he came harder than he ever had before, his fingers digging into Addy’s smooth shoulders and sighing as the unbearable pressure at his cock was relieved.

Addy and Connor lay snuggled in Connor’s bed, naked under a blanket. As Connor drifted off to post-sex oblivion, he turned to a tired but satiated Addison Mitchell and said, “For the record, I never said anything about loving you,” and closed his eyes with a smirk on his face, knowing Addy’s eyes were wide open.

Facebooktwittergoogle_pluspinteresttumblrmailFacebooktwittergoogle_pluspinteresttumblrmail
Share this with your friends!


Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *