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clownwrites‌:

Everything shuts down, white-hot breaths pressing stamps against Teddy’s inner wrist as he makes a desperate last attempt at containing his eagerness. “Oh,” he gasps, and it doesn’t work. Not as he whines like a lame dog and his gaze is glazed over with cloudy detachment, jaw held ajar as blood runs to his skull and right back down to the soles of his shoes. He’s begun to shiver and shake but the room is burning up, his cheeks are scalding and his palms are running down Teddy’s chest and they’re slotted together like two quarters in a coin machine and he’s waiting for somebody to make the push, but it’s so hard. It’s so hard to try and forget what lies right outside their own world, this bubble of affection that can’t be popped unless provoked. “What a fucking waste of time,” crawls from the sliver of space above the carpet, departing words that lie defeated without any sort of knock to follow; our valiant Dismissive Boyfriend seems to flee the scene and has left his lost lover pinned up against a door by the man he’s been giving side-eye since the beginning of time. And to make it worse? Teddy speaks and Jo’s biting at his bottom lip, the dilated pupils of his stare morphing into big fat hearts, hands flat to the other’s ribs. “Want,” he nods with as much willpower as he can muster. Can’t bring himself to budge too much in this grip. “Want you,” it’s sickening how he leans in and leaves his mouth agape, tongue heavy as if tied to a cinderblock. He’s drowning. “Mean it.”

Teddy had been with several people before and yet nothing amounted to the intimacy that he felt just being so close to Jo, hands searching each other in a desperate way that would have anyone else thinking they were trying to memorize every sharp jut of bone and soft curve of flesh. The laugh he releases is more gasp than anything else, head shaking at Norman’s words, “He’s finally gone.” Despite the fact that there was no reason to keep their voices lowered any more, Teddy’s voice is still barely above the caliber of a hushed whisper. He liked the feeling of their conversation being just between them, despite their privacy. Before, Teddy had always thought that it’d been cheesy when people said they could get drunk off someone else, but just sharing the same space as Jo had him feeling light all around. “Yeah?” Touch to his ribs like a brand, it felt like a white hot pulse was vibrating around Jo’s hands, drawing Teddy in closer like opposing magnets in close proximity. Teddy’s mouth almost waters glancing at how deliciously beautiful the boy in front of him looks, pink lips glistening and parted and eyes lidded, pupils the size of dinner plates glancing at Teddy through thick lashes. “I’m -,” stopping himself before he can even continue, Teddy figures that actions speak louder than words. Hand still holding Jo’s face like it was the world’s most valuable China, he draws the boy in closer until their lips are merely a hair apart. Tongue poking out, Teddy laps at Jo’s full bottom lip in a quick movement, drinking in his taste. Satisfied, it’s then that he finally closes the gap, pressing their mouths together in a kiss that had Teddy breathless before it could even be considering a proper, movie worthy kiss. Hand still resting at Jo’s side, he took the opportunity to wrap it around the small of his back again, pulling the other in until they were completely flush. He hoped Jo couldn’t feel the way his hands shook, an intoxicating cocktail of nerves and excitement leaving Teddy unbelievably inebriated.

#teddy.#teddy: jo.#i dnt have kissing gifs so #rots ig

clownwrites‌:

Pressure nips him at the nape of his neck and whispers sweet pleas against the skin beneath his jaw, chin tipped with Teddy’s guidance to establish some sort of eye contact. Jo leans in and knocks noses with him in the flightiest eskimo kiss, lashes blinding the lidded underbelly of his gaze. The hands tangled in the hem of Teddy’s shirt tug him closer, thumbing at the fabric as their foreheads knock in a collision that speaks nothing but unfiltered allure; breathless and there’s no excuse for it. He’s moments away from closing the gap between their mouths, heated sigh taking on an octave as he shifts his hips back into the door. It’s a dead giveaway that they’re present, but he doesn’t care. His mind is blank, burnt-out, too gone to process anything more than the tension that vibrates in the air like heat off pavement. “Stay,” Jo draws his bottom lip between his teeth the moment the word slips out like a paper bill, fluttering to the floor with the weight of a feather. Brows are worried. “Stay.” And the guilt in his heart hits rock bottom but the bruises are too fresh. It’s not as easy to soothe the ache with calmed nerves and fresh perspectives, it’s not like how it was in the beginning. He’s starting to realize that maybe this is what he needs, the softness, the love. It’s all he can think about. Goosebumps run circles down his spine and laps up and down each arm to the knuckle. His face is burning crimson, flames greedily licking his cheeks like cats to a saucer of milk. “Don’t want — him. You. Stay.”

If Teddy prayed, he’d imagine it would give him the sort of bone chilling relief Jo’s touch gave to him. The song currently blasting on the floor below them was so loud Teddy could feel the boom of the bass in his feet, and still something about the gentle caress of Jo’s nose against his own made everything else go completely numb. He could hear nothing but the woosh of blood in his ears, the sort of white nose that Teddy would usually find annoying but in this moment found solace in. Even when Jo knocks back against the door, Teddy’s hands stay attached to his side, gripping onto prominent hips that feel made for his palms. “Okay,” he whispers when Jo demands so in a voice that sounded far too soft for making commands. He could have told Teddy to light himself on fire and he probably would’ve, “okay, I’ll stay.” A knee slots itself in between Jo’s own, nudging them apart with a gentle persuasion that doesn’t take words. It’s merely an excuse for Teddy to inch himself closer, legs intertwined like the fingers of devoted lovers. It’s unnerving how comfortable and easy it is to just place himself into Jo’s space, feeling more Jenga block than boy in that moment. “Don’t say that,” Teddy whispers, feeling as if someone had just taken a scalpel to his chest and reached in to squeeze at his heart with their bare hands, “Don’t say something like that unless you mean it.” A hand reaches to gently grab at Jo’s face, the sort of caressing grasp a husband would give to a wife after being away from her too long. “You can’t say that just because I want you to.”