Sunday, 15 December 2013

You're Not Coming Back Again 8

The fact that the world is scared of gay people scares me to no end and it had. I was slowly coming in terms with myself, I was still me, I am me, I just like men, specifically Alex and always have, but it had been hard to accept myself when I was alone with Al gone to women.

France was like a giant eraser, crossing out Alexa and she had taken it as boy time, I guess it was also when we didn’t hold and drank too much late in the night after we’d be breathless from fucking. I still don’t know how come we had managed to be so carefree up to the point that we had held hands outside, let James Ford take photos of us kissing which are well hidden and James’ promise to keep silent.

I don’t know what had dissolved in us and it had all started in the morning when I still wanted to sleep on and Al had headed out for the groceries and when I awoke he had already breakfast, for some reason a French newspaper and I just sat silently, still not used to the fact that he had decided to go forward with the project and just now when we had maybe slept once and that was it, but his eyes seemed soft and caring, something I was nearly sure I wanted to shove away, he had a girlfriend. But he was just there and I wasn’t sure if I wanted to cross that line, but he just looked at me as I started cutting the waffles, holding myself together as he just walked to stand behind me and put his arms around me.

I couldn’t do anything. I couldn’t say anything, I could just reply to his touch as he stroked my cheek with his fingers and then he leaned and tilted my head to match his and we had kissed, it wasn’t slow, it was because I had been holding for so long.

I loved him too much and it was a bizarre game of cards where we were both bluffing and not even raising the bet by much or skipping turns.

We didn’t even stop eating, we had headed to Alex’s bedroom and I remember how my whole body was beating fast, how everything had been pulsing as he had pressed me against the bed, I wonder how much weight had been lost between us as he kept frenching me, pressing me harder, removing my plain shirt, the jeans, the underwear and I felt a bit uncomfortable naked first, but my thought had vanished as he started trailing his tongue down my chest and my stomach and I was far too hard already, my eyes shut and a moan escaped my lips as he had taken me in his mouth, digging his nails into my hips, holding me down.


How long has it been?

How fucking long has it been?

I kept moaning at all his sucking, licking and stroking and he was still fully dressed from the outside, even in a leather jacket and it oddly turned me on, as he kept blowing me and trailing his fingers down my chest, pulling my nipple and I pulled him slightly by his hair to suck harder as I started thrusting into his mouth. Alex held me down even further, which caused me to swear and plead.

He drives me insane.

Alex slowed down on the sucking and looked at me in the eye and I just kept breathing hard. Fucker. He knew I wanted him bad.

He took me out of his mouth and damn Alex is grinning.

“What do you feel like?”

Is he serious?

“Fuck what?” I breathe.

Alex pulled me up and sucked on my tongue, I didn’t feel anything anymore, I was too turned on. I was very close to wanking myself.

“I want you on fours.” I blinked. I had still managed to blush lightly, unused and Alex just kept making out with me. We pulled back and I still managed to feel a bit dazed, but I turn around and I felt Alex trailing kisses down my back. I heard him taking off his own jeans finally and soon enough his underwear was discarded as well, but he kept the jacket on and I feel the leather sleeves brushing against my skin as he held me by hips with one hand as he positioned himself and I moaned, Alex finally going in and as he slowly started stroking me.

It’s far too torturous and I couldn’t stop moaning, as Alex went in and out and I started moving myself, too desperate for release. Alex leaned down pressing a kiss against my cheek, biting my neck, biting my neck and finally thrusting harder, Al himself moaning hard already as we both keep thrusting harder and harder

and Al came and I just followed, screaming, as Alex kept thrusting as we were still coming and then we just collapsed on the bed, Alex trailing kisses on my neck as I tried to catch my breath.

Arabella just wants to be carried around, so we take turns and in the end, we’ve still got Arielle in our heads and I wonder if I should continue the topic as Arabella seems to slowly start lulling off to sleep and I can’t help but look at Alex as he looks into the distance and I looked at his nearly gone quiff and I wonder what the fuck will happen anyway, which direction we would be heading now.

“If you break up with Arielle-” But he interrupts me and looks back at me and then at Arabella who is already back in her dreams and I wonder for a while, how will she be, and too many questions will only be answered in years. It’s odd how your mindset changes once you’ve got a baby in your hands who becomes yours and who might love you unconditionally. But then she’ll grow up knowing that I’m gay and Al, well, Al.

“I know. I’ll have the press on me as well.” And I wonder if his own fear of coming out was a factor as well or was it my parents all along? I try to keep the question to myself, but I raise it anyway, letting it take it’s turns.

“No, of course I was scared... but your parents sure... did a lot.” Alex speaks in pauses and I wonder if he stops to find better words, like he does sometimes and then corrects himself while looking at some blank spot, ruffling his thoughts to make sure he hasn’t missed anything. But here, it’s just like letting the cards you’ve been holding finally out.

I don’t know if I should ask him if he’ll come out as well now. I honestly don’t know. Thoughts are too tangled with old anxiety and fear.

He made me want to bath in turquoise to make me forget him, which is odd because it’s a colour, but it seemed to shatter me away, some glue to fix me and let me drown alone, not feeling, dead already, corpse just on the edges.

It’s a horrible rush of emotions which seems to paint over everything else.

I think I realized that I like Al by wanting him far too much, it was cutting down myself apart, I just fucking wanted him. It was a torturous walk until we had fucked that time, it was torturous looking at him, treasuring every locked eye moment and feeling as if it was the greatest thing ever until we’d hug and then kiss and then have sex, everything was an achievement, something so desperately longed.

I wondered if one day we’ll snap and we did.

I don’t know what to say to Alex now and it was just like in France when he had taken the acoustic guitar a bit later when we had hugged long enough in silence and I had fallen asleep to wake up with Alex kissing my cheek, just as I had opened my eyes and I remember how slow the wake up kiss was still surrounded by sleep and he was yanking me out, reminding me that we had fucked and he had just pulled me even closer, kissing my neck and I felt a bit too tired for a second round, so we just kept kissing for a good while, but I had still managed to shift on top of Al, feeling him get hard, but we didn’t do anything about it, just let ourselves stroke each other’s cheeks, play with the hair and then untangle to look at the ceiling with different old reliefs and I only saw flowers, wondering how come biblical themes didn’t manage to crawl their way in and remind me that I was going to hell.

It’s a very odd feeling when your parents don’t accept you, when you’re neglected and then you wonder what the fuck have you done wrong, what was so wrong about locking lips with another man?

And indeed what was wrong?

And with the laws, were we all doing the right thing or were we the sinners?

The thoughts when they had left me just dragged on and on in my head and I guess only fully ended when I had held Arabella first in my hands, shocked that soon enough the paperwork would be done and I was happy to see her biological mom just a bit hesitant and I was happy that there wasn’t a big issue and she seemed nice enough.

I guess the only thing which bothered me at night was that she’d still see her biological mother as her real family and not me and even looking at her, I wonder. I feel bad that I’m curious to see her grown up and I wonder what actual toys will she go for, I pretty much went for typical boy ones and I never struggled, but I never got the commotion just like many years at a family reunion there was a discussion if Dora should be watched by the sons, since Diego was available. I didn’t hold and asked what’s the big deal, but it was and mom snapped at me even if I had been already in my twenties and I was slowly making it.

We weren’t talking so I’m not aware how they had taken The Last Shadow Puppets, but they knew I was all over Alex, so I’m sure if they were a bit more bizarre they’d burn it and ask the priest to throw Holy Water over it to make sure it would never sin.

Alex had cooked the first few days and I had started to feel uncomfortable, but he kept doing it and he’d make sure to buy ingredients I wasn’t aware of how to cook, so I’d keep silent and realize that even if I were to cook, it would be shameful close to Alex’s cooking.

That’s why when Alex offers me to cook when I still hold Arabella in her sleep, holding her close, smiling at her fragile shape and I just hope she remains as peaceful later on, you just can’t avoid thinking of the child how will it actually be once it’s in your arms and every fucking sound makes you drop whatever you are doing and make sure she’s ok and you still fortune tell to yourself without the cards.

I had wondered what the fuck would happen if I do get my fortune told and once it was done and I wondered about it. And instead I had it told by one of my cousins who had gotten a fortune telling book and I wondered why the fuck did she even get one and I remember her shuffling and I was among her and her sister and they were just ordinary playing cards and then she started taking out things and the thing which had struck out was that I would have a man in my life, but we were too young to know properly and they just dismissed it as me having some close friend.

Then when I was in middle school I had a pack of cards and I bothered to remember that simple maneuver of doing so the shuffling and just pulling out a few cards and pretty much the jack of clubs had come up again as one of the cards and I just shuffled it back and it was gone, but the fact that I had gotten a man twice in my life in the few fortune telling really made me wonder, but no one has struck me out as much as Alex ever had.

Maybe that’s why I was so attached, maybe that’s why he was so attached. I honestly don’t know why we are so intertwined, why are we held so strictly in place, maybe it’s because of Arabella I honestly don’t know.

But in Paris I didn’t dare to raise anything and I wanted to keep not knowing what was going on, as if it had been a dream and I knew that something was wrong, but the dream was so blissful I couldn’t even dare to wake up or do any movements. I wanted it to keep going, Alex even telling us that we could cycle shirtless due to the weather and his leather jacket was long discarded but I had obviously preferred him shirtless and it didn’t really differ if he was dressed or not, I had wanted him just as much, we’d still have sex after making out, we’d wake up and have the other on top already biting the other’s neck.

I’m still surprised that among all the sex and loving we had managed to crawl outside, Alex reading novels outside in the parks as I’d just observe other people and I wondered how many of them would be gay, how many wouldn’t and on the next few days I had actually bothered to bring the guitar with me as Alex would keep reading and I was too scared to bother him and my playing would always cause a smile and a few looks as he’d read.

I wondered if I should walk around, but once I stand up I’d have Alex break the exchange with his book and he’d look at me and I’d never leave, I never do leave, he was always the one, even when I had discarded everything and life seemed like a never ending suicide, I kept feeling as if I was falling deeper and deeper into the lake, but I had managed to breathe.

Just like you can wake up from depression you can just fall back into depression over the night, it would happen when I would pull the covers over me and I would know he’s gone and I’d keep thinking that he’ll be gone, Alexa or Arielle, didn’t matter I’d stay depressed and of course when I was getting the papers and finding out how to adopt a child, how to get the statements, what I needed, I had thought what if I’d be depressed again, what if I’d become anxious, what if I wouldn’t feed the child, but the longer the process took the more I feel stimulated and frankly when something good happens in depression, something really good you do realize maybe not all is too bad and you wake up,

sure your legs are still asleep,

but fuck, you’re awake.

“What are you going to tell Arielle?” I ask Alex, gently rocking Arabella after resting my arms and he shifts a bit and I know that in this situation I’m nearly sure he’d want a cigarette and he’d smoke one, but instead he holds, crossing his arms and legs, closing his eyes and leaning deeper into the couch, avoiding the Beatles pillows and I just keep looking at him until he opens both eyes.

“Well, I have to tell the truth.” He says a bit too flat, trying to forget how Alexa was, it feels horrid for me to tell that it surely matters less as of course I didn’t get along with her and I’ms till surprised how Alexa still clings to me on events and calls me her friends, it’s as if she knows that I’m not with Alex and I never tell her that unlike her I make him come and he fucking wants me and loves me unlike her, that I was there all along and she’s the same as an old fake tanned high school girlfriend, but I never say that and we always get photoed together and I see it later in the press and sometimes I even avoid looking, unless there’s Alex and I get to see him through the eyes of many an attractive talented musician who seems to fuck groupies and keeps them for years. Someone who has “trophy” girlfriends, those girls who will be plastered on the walls for being skinny but will always have some bitter to their sweet smiles that makes you want to avoid them like the girls who every guy wanted in school.

It’s funny about school how everyone thinks it’s huge but once you’re out you want to forget so badly, I knew Al and only in the last year I knew that I was gay, I wanted him, I started touching myself to him and the attraction was entirely different, I wanted to pin him, I could spend hours thinking of how I had wanted him, how I wondered how he tasted and I would wonder how could I feast my mind with all the heterosexuality surrounding, I didn’t even properly know how would it feel, how was everything done as blokes would only talk about vaginas and tits and I’d just nod, wondering where the fuck would this information even help me.

Well, maybe giving Sex Ed to Arabella. Yeah, many years later and I’m sure, jealously, that Alex would explain it much better than I would.

It’s a bizarre thought, when you’re raised that girls shouldn’t have sex and not thinking of them, that Arabella will have a sexual relationship eventually, love crossed my mind, but not all of it, I don’t even know if the gender I’m presuming is hers and how will she feel about her name or if she will ever want to bond with anyone.

The thing about depression they don’t tell you that it’s ok, that everyone has been at the depth of the lake, that everyone had wanted to be alone and turned off the mobile, wondering what the fuck would the others think and thank once you’re dead. That it’s ok to look at a random belt and wonder if you can hang yourself with it or if you can drown yourself in a bathtub.

You don’t get told that everything is ok, that everything you’ve done is ok and when I grew up suicidal was like a murder that it would stay on your face like a tattoo and that you’d never see the light of the day, that all would be gone.

But then the world tells you that it’s not okay to be gay, that you should be killed, that you’re the sinner and now Russian actors are saying how I should be burnt and I wonder if I will make it to the mouths, a singer who had adopted and how if it was Russia it would be forbidden, but the thing is, the UK sure, we’ve got the laws, but we are far from tolerant if you’ll dig well enough you’ll find stories just as tragic, maybe not as violent and ending in death, but they’ll surely end up in suicide murder and bigotry. We surround ourselves in the white man’s myth, that we accept and we are the best that we believe in Cameron and that all is lovely, that we’ve got tea and we’ve got the lovely cabs everywhere and we allow people to praise Thatcher.

Those who rule say they like gay people that they know them, but just because I know my parents that will never fucking mean that I like them and proving my theory I’s ban their way of thinking, which is again wrapped tightly in the myth.

But when you fortune tell there’s no myth and when you let your fate play.

“You do realize that-”

“I’ll come out.”


This was such a pain to write by the end, because I was like, no word war must… cary on XD and yeah, I got a bit depressed during it and I dislike the bits where I'm anxious and I started rambling about Thatcher and everyone (which are the bits my gf loved a lot) but I liked the depression bit, so yeah. It was done in three attempts, yesterday which had the sex scene, a bit in the train and then during the word war with afffectiontorent (who is cool and has dfchgsdcfgsdhcf stories :O) and a bit before :O

Anyway, let's go one by one.

I really really wanted to write "the" sex scene to You're So Dark, but yeah I didn't have leather collars or anything and during a conversation with blindkites basically the leather jacket idea was mentioned by her and I was like HGEFHJDSGHCJGDSC let me use that so I kept wondering where would I use the whole "down on all fours" and a big chunk which I didn't touch in this story had been France and it seemed ideal (and funny coz France is pretty much THE Milex setting which I've never properly touched, so yeah xD) and I had wondered if to do it Gandalf's Inhaler (which always causes me to giggle stupidly at Miles' reactions in my head, but I'll keep quiet on that one, since well now everyone knows about Al, so yeah)

I dunno I like writing sex scenes, so yeah, my stuff is explicit (and no wonder I'm tagged as NSFW in tumblr xD) so yeah.

Ok, about fortune telling I used to like fortune telling a lot when I was a kid, like a lot and I'd fortune tell, get fortune told and etc and I dunno like once I was fortune telling and I got like that I'll have a brown haired woman in the future and I was like wtf is this, fuck it and tried again. I think I've gotten it twice in my life? Haha, no avoiding xD Anyway, so I've given that to Miles here:) So yeah, I like that bit.

I dunno sometimes I enjoy ramblings, sometimes I don't, gf liked them so… yeah. But then like I hate the confession scene in Gandalf's Inhaler but everyone likes it, so yeah:) like one of the favourite scenes I've ever written in Milex fanfiction is Miles' suicide attempt in this story so yeah.

I hope you enjoyed it and I hope this update was worth all the wait:3 and yes, Arabella (unofficial name xD) IS BACK :O

Feel free to request and thank you



  1. I NEED more, please!!! Even when im from México and don't understand pretty well hehehe

  2. Thank youuuu!!!:3 Don't worry more will be up soon:D keep checking :D

    If you need help with understanding feel free to ask:) I speak Spanish so yeah:)

    Thank youuuu:3 :3 :3