Don't Ignore Me - Popecarter
CW: Mature/Explicit Sexual Content, Casual Sex, Kissing, References to Past Violence, Stabbing Injury & Scarring, Emotional Baggage, Family Issues, Mild Angst, Hurt/Comfort
A/n: I had this for months in my notes and decided to share it with you...hope you enjoy it.
“I don’t mind if you want to hold me.”
Pope murmured softly under his breath. He was lying on the bed with his back turned to the half-naked boy lying beside him.
The boy moved closer on the bed and gently wrapped an arm around him.
The stranger’s breaths brushed against the back of his neck, making the hairs there stand on end.
He turned toward him and fixed his gaze on his face.
He raised his hand hesitantly and touched his face with the tips of his fingers.
“I never asked your name...”
A wide, foolish smile spread across the boy’s face.
Pope was sure he could touch the little stars dancing in his eyes if he only reached out a little farther...
Pope nodded when he heard his name. John. He could have asked him that last night. He could have whispered his name into his ear during sex and told him about the beauty in his eyes, but he knew it was too late and that he was far too amateur for things like that.
“You can tell me your own name too, if you want.”
Pope didn’t think it mattered to John. He shrugged and looked away from his eyes to study his flushed cheeks and reddened skin.
“It doesn’t really matter that much.”
After a few seconds of silence, he softly whispered, “Andrew.”
John raised his hand and ran it through Pope’s curly hair without asking permission.
He slowly threaded his long fingers through Pope’s hair and tilted his head.
“But last night the bartender called you something else.”
Pope, whose eyes had unconsciously drifted shut, opened them and looked at John’s questioning face for a few moments.
John nodded and gently stroked his hair.
“Why did he call you Pope?”
Pope didn’t have an answer. He didn’t want to reveal his secrets to this boy. Even though he wanted to keep him close, not that close—not inside his life.
He wanted to keep him physically close. He wanted his pale skin pressed against his body, but without having to explain anything about his life.
“You don’t have to tell me. It’s okay.”
John leaned forward while his hand continued moving through Pope’s hair. He gently stroked the back of his neck and placed a kiss on Pope’s lips.
“Honestly, you don’t have to tell me anything. I think your name is enough.”
Pope gently cupped his face and didn’t let him pull away.
“I don’t want you to be afraid of me.”
John let out a small laugh and shook his head.
“You’re not that scary...”
John softly kissed his lips and pulled back a little so he could look into Pope’s eyes.
“Maybe... before we talked last night, I was scared of you. But I had every right to be...”
“I didn’t mean... I didn’t mean to scare you. I just... didn’t know how to talk to you.”
John smiled again. This time it was hard to stop himself from kissing him harder. Pope pushed him back and cupped his face with both hands before kissing him deeper than ever before.
When he pulled away, both of them were breathing in short, quick breaths.
Pope sat up on the bed and looked around the room. He didn’t want to make eye contact with John after kissing him. He hadn’t been forced to do it, and there wasn’t any alcohol left in his system that he could blame for the kiss.
Last night he hadn’t noticed the size of the room or the large windows.
John rested his head on Pope’s thigh and wrapped his arms around him.
The blanket slipped off John’s body, and Pope’s gaze landed on the scars across his back.
A stitched scar ran along his side and the hollow of his lower back.
He slowly moved his hand from the back of John’s neck, tracing the line of his spine until he reached the scars, where he paused.
He was sure they weren’t ordinary scars, but he didn’t have enough courage to ask about the story behind them.
He felt the tension in John’s body and removed his hand from his back.
It was strange that he hadn’t noticed them last night. He was sure he had pressed his hands against John’s back countless times or pulled him closer by the waist, yet he hadn’t felt anything unusual beneath his fingers.
Or maybe he simply hadn’t paid enough attention to become familiar with John’s body. Maybe all he had cared about was pleasure.
John took a deep breath and absentmindedly traced meaningless patterns across Pope’s back with his fingertips.
Unsure what to do with his hands, Pope gently rested one behind John’s head.
“I’ve stayed longer than I needed to.”
“You don’t have to leave early in the morning. Nobody’s home, don’t worry...”
“I don’t think that’s what I’m worried about.”
He gently stroked the back of John’s neck and continued.
“If I stay longer, I might not be able to control myself.”
“If I tell you I’ve had a terrible shift, will that convince you to stay?”
Pope leaned back slightly so he could look into John’s eyes.
“Would it make a difference?”
John nod his head. After a brief silence, he lifted his head from Pope’s thigh and sat up on the bed.
“I want to distract myself.”
Pope nodded and looked at him after a few seconds of silence.
“But you said your back hurts...”
John laughed quietly and rubbed a hand over his face.
“For sex... not for talking.”
Pope nodded again and gestured toward him.
“No. Anything except my back.”
Pope lay back down and rested his head on the pillow.
“Anything except your back... but I want to know about your back.”
“There’s nothing special about it. I got stabbed at work.”
“How do they let people carry knives into a hospital?”
John looked into Pope’s eyes and took a deep breath. Getting stabbed was really not something he wanted to talk about tonight.
“It’s a long story. It was an accident. Nobody... nobody brought a knife. The knife was already there.”
Pope slowly opened his arms, inviting John closer.
John nodded and quietly moved across the bed until he was beside him, resting his head on Pope’s chest.
When Pope’s hand settled over the scar and gently traced it with his fingertips, John had no idea how to react.
His entire body tensed, and his hand clenched into a fist without even realizing it.
Years had passed, but being touched there still bothered him.
“You know... I got myself into more trouble than you ever did... but I never got stabbed.”
John said nothing and tried arching his back to move away from Pope’s hand, but there was nowhere to escape. Pope’s hand covered his lower back completely.
“Don’t run away. You’re the one who asked me to stay.”
“Why did you get yourself into trouble?”
John asked softly, trying to distract himself from the feeling of Pope’s hand on his scars.
Pope shrugged and looked at John’s messy hair.
“It wasn’t always because I wanted trouble. Because of my family, I had to. There were things...”
Pope took a deep breath. He didn’t know why he was telling John any of this.
“There were things they didn’t want to dirty their own hands with, and I had to do them for them.”
John shifted slightly and rested his chin on Pope’s chest so he could look at him.
“Even that brother we saw at the bar last night?”
Pope nodded and shrugged, trying to make it seem like it wasn’t a big deal.
It wasn’t a big deal. Not in his family. Everyone knew all they had to do was say the word and Pope would take care of the dirty work.
“He didn’t seem like that kind of person.”
Pope laughed softly and moved his hand away from John’s back, threading it into his hair.
“You don’t look like someone who’s been stabbed twice either.”
John rolled his eyes and lifted a hand to brush it across Pope’s face.
“You don’t have to remind me about my scars every three seconds.”
Pope closed his eyes and chuckled.
“Don’t worry. Reminding you won’t make it hurt again.”
With visible irritation, John pulled away from him and sat up on the bed.
“You’re such an asshole!”
Pope could clearly see that he had genuinely upset John this time, but he didn’t know what to do if he wanted to make up for it.
He slowly reached out and brushed his fingers across John’s bare thigh, tilting his head.
“Hey... did I upset you?”
John rubbed his hands over his face and nodded.
“We agreed we wouldn’t talk about my back. We agreed you wouldn’t touch my scars—”
Pope frowned and propped himself up on one elbow.
“I never agreed to that!”
John picked up a pillow, intending to throw it at him, but changed his mind and simply clenched his hands around it.
“I know you never agreed. We weren’t supposed to make any promises. You weren’t even supposed to still be here talking to me!”
Pope nodded and shifted his gaze from John’s thigh to his face.
“Yeah, but when you begged me not to leave you alone, I changed my mind and decided to stay.”
Pope rolled onto his side and silently watched as John’s face grew redder.
Ignoring him, John lay back down on the bed. This time he really seemed upset.
Pope quietly called his name and poked his side with a finger.
“Do you want me to do what I did last night again?”
John turned his head and frowned slightly. At first he didn’t understand what Pope meant, but when Pope’s hand moved toward his stomach and lower, he gradually realized.
He didn’t try to stop him.
John closed his eyes and let out a shaky breath.
It didn’t take long. With John’s silence as permission, Pope moved lower.
John’s eyes were shut, so he couldn’t see him, but he felt the mattress shift near his legs and then felt Pope’s lips around him.
A few minutes later, everything passed so quickly that John didn’t realize how loud his breathing had become or how tightly he had tangled his fingers in Pope’s curly hair.
When it was over, he felt Pope’s hand slide upward across his stomach until it rested over the left side of his chest.
He had noticed him doing that the night before too, but he hadn’t cared enough to wonder why.
“When your heart beats this fast beneath my hand, I like you even more.”
John only breathed heavily and tried to ignore him.
Pope pulled himself back up and began kissing the reddened skin of John’s chest.
“Don’t ignore me, I sucked your dick.”
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