Landing in Neverland

Author's Note: Yuletide pinch hit for yeats. When choosing a prompt, I was genuinely torn, but in the end it came down to me having watched “Hawaii” only once (to date) and therefore not feeling quite as confident writing Martin and Eugenio. Very much hope you enjoy my take on the further adventures of Bruno and Pablo… 🙂 Title from Bruno and Pablo’s Peter Pan conversation on the beach. Warning: present tense and shifting POVs.

***

Outright laughter is not the reaction either one of them expected.

They show up at Ana’s birthday party with varying degrees of nervousness, both of them taking and dropping the other’s hand multiple times, followed by shared looks of wry amusement. Bruno is probably slightly more on edge, since it is mostly his friends they’re facing, but it’s Pablo who shies away at first when Bruno slings an arm around his shoulder. After a second, however, he relaxes into Bruno’s embrace and even presses a quick kiss to his boyfriend’s lips, an apology of sorts that’s completely unnecessary but appreciated nonetheless. They have a lot of moments like this.

Still, it’s this kiss, innocent as it was, that leads to the laughter. Ana laughs the loudest, but everyone else also seems to find it very hilarious, the only exception being Vincent, who of course knows all about them but who remains in the background, smirking around the neck of his beer bottle. Bruno swears at them all, looking rather offended, while Pablo buries his face in Bruno’s hair and whispers, loudly: “Well, what did you expect? We did pretend to be boyfriends before, after all…”

“But it’s different now!” Bruno complains, throwing up his hands theatrically, after which Pablo simply has to kiss him again, letting his lips linger until Bruno’s pout dissolves and their audience begins to cat-call. Dimly they can hear Vincent dissolve the crowd by gruffly shooing everyone away from “the lovebirds”, but neither one of them feels like breaking the kiss for several more minutes.

Later that night, after everyone has stopped sniggering and Pablo has stopped blushing, a group of them are passing a joint around in Ana’s bedroom. Bruno and Pablo have claimed the bed, Bruno taking up most of the space, lying with his head in Pablo’s lap and laughing up at his boyfriend, his face soft and open with more than beer and weed. It makes Pablo wish for his camera, and he closes his eyes as he deeply inhales the smoke, taking a mental picture instead. The next moment he is roused from his thoughts when Javier jostles them to make room for himself and Ana, which is only fair since it is their bed, after all.

Bruno grumbles but levers himself into a sitting position, although he ends up more than half-way in Pablo’s lap, boneless with lazy contentment. The smile on Pablo’s face proves irresistible, and Bruno leans in for another kiss, swallowing Pablo’s small, half-embarrassed laugh when Ana squeals in delight. She’s not alone in this, most of the girls in the room seem to watch them with something close to glee. On the other hand Bruno notices out of the corner of his eyes that Javier, along with a majority of the guys, is pointedly looking elsewhere, trying to appear nonchalant, unbothered by the sight of two men kissing.

Bruno remembers feeling like this, trying to push down the uncomfortable sensation itching under his skin when confronted with intimacy between guys, but it seems like a strange dream now, the feel and taste of Pablo having long done away with any remnants of discomfort. He would quite happily have gone on kissing, giving everyone a bit of a show just because he can, but Pablo breaks away, face red under his tan but grinning defiantly at their spectators: “Stop gawking, everyone, we’re not the entertainment! And Bruno, maybe we better continue this at home, hm?”

His smile turns inward, intimate and wicked, and Bruno’s stomach does a slow somersault. Ana slaps his hip and he forces his eyes away from Pablo and to her flushed face and bright eyes, dancing with amusement: “As much as I enjoyed the show, I think your boyfriend is right. You take care of this one, I like him!”

Pablo knows he’s blushing again and hopes against hope it’s not showing under his stubble, but he is pleased nonetheless, glad their first outing as a couple has gone so well. Their friends are a mostly urban, well-educated crowd who are all in favour of gay marriage, but still, they both know it could have gone differently. Maybe it still will in another setting, with other people, but for now Pablo gets to relax and forget he’s now officially out as gay, bi, or whatever. He also gets to push Bruno down on his bed and cover him with his body, all flat planes and coarse hair where he’d been used to soft curves and smooth skin, differences that are no longer disconcerting. Instead there is pleasure to be found in knowing exactly how and where to touch Bruno to make him curse, in not having to worry about hurting him accidentally, in the way it’s completely okay to go to sleep almost immediately after they’ve both come.

They’re no big post-coital cuddlers, either one of them, but Bruno loves that Pablo always gets a wet cloth to clean them both before moving to what is now his side of the bed and falling asleep. In the morning, after waking up curled around Pablo more often than not, Bruno reciprocates by making them coffee, and serving it to Pablo, who’s barely more than a sleepwalker, in bed, along with a kiss. These little rituals remain unchanged whether they’re at Bruno’s or Pablo’s, and Bruno has more than once prepared two cups even when they hadn’t spent the night together. He kind of loves that, too, and so does Pablo when he tells him, his eyes shining with the same light they had when he first saw Bruno’s bedside table.

It had been in Bruno’s letter, the fact that the little toy bucket had taken up residence next to his bed, but seeing it was different, and it had somehow resulted in Pablo’s first attempt at giving a blow job. Like most sex things with them, it had been both better and stranger than either one of them had experienced before. Better because the sight of Pablo’s lips around his cock is now one of Bruno’s most favourite things, and stranger because Pablo never in a million years expected to actually get off from sucking another guy’s dick. He doesn’t quite come, but it’s always a close thing, and Bruno likes kissing Pablo while he strokes him until he finishes, the taste of himself still fresh on Pablo’s tongue.

Obviously Bruno’s prediction, that sex between them couldn’t live up to their imagination, has been proven wrong many, many times by now. Sometimes it’s awkward, and they laugh a lot, more than either one of them ever has with any girl, but mostly it’s good, more than good, and they spend a lot of time just making out like teenagers and then lying side by side, dozing and talking about whatever pops into their heads. They also fuck, although it took them a while to get there, their asses a strange sort of no-man’s land until Bruno admitted that he had quite liked it when some of his more adventurous ex-girlfriends had fingered him. He’s still the one who enjoys bottoming more, urging Pablo to go faster, harder, deeper, although now and then Pablo likes the intimacy of feeling Bruno buried deep inside of him. That also why, when he’s the one getting fucked, they always do it face to face, because the sight of Bruno’s face when he comes is just about the hottest thing Pablo has ever seen.

He admits as much to Veronica when the three of them meet a couple of days after Ana’s birthday. Having found a table, Bruno kisses Pablo before making his way to the bar, and Veronica watches the way Pablo’s eyes follow Bruno and inquires curiously what they’d been doing before coming here. So Pablo tells her, and she laughs, kissing his cheek fondly, which is when Bruno comes back carrying their drinks. He mock-scowls and wraps a possessive arm around Pablo’s waist: “Are you trying to seduce my boyfriend, woman?”

Veronica laughs again, but there’s an edge to it: “Don’t you worry, he’s safe with me. But how come you’re all caveman? From what I hear, you’re no model of faithfulness...”

She’s been Pablo’s friend for a long, long time, but right now he wishes she wouldn’t try to protect him. Bruno is giving him a sidelong glance, but Pablo is avoiding his eyes, instead looking at Veronica darkly: “You didn’t hear that from me! I haven’t been complaining, so I don’t see why you should even…”

“It’s fine, Pablo, it’s fine,” Bruno quickly interrupts, forcing his boyfriend to face him with a gentle hand on his cheek, the stubble coarse against his fingertips. He lowers his voice, not really caring whether Veronica can hear him or not, only wanting the faint trace of shadows to leave Pablo’s eyes: “She’s right, after all - you know better than anyone, what with Laura and everything. But with you there’s no one else. I don’t know why, but there isn’t. And if there ever was, I’d tell you. Okay?”

“Yeah. Okay. And me, too. In case you were wondering.” Pablo is trying to appear impassive, but his pleasure is visible in the way he quickly bites is lip, in the crinkling around his eyes. Bruno was telling the truth, he doesn’t know why he’s not even thinking about going with anyone else, woman or man. But Pablo is still looking at him in that way that spreads warmth through his whole body, and Bruno figures he doesn’t need to know the reason, only that in this, too, being with Pablo is different. Then Pablo’s lips are soft against his, for just a moment, and his voice is laced with laughter: “It’s probably because we’re 12 years old and don’t share well with others.”

Bruno barks a short laugh, surprised, except not really, because the way they get one another is a big part of why the whole thing happened, after all. Pablo joins in, and Veronica is looking at them as if they’ve gone slightly mad, but they’re kissing again, mouths sliding wetly against each other, and have forgotten her. For all that they’re in public, in the private spaces between their lips, their bodies, they’re traveling together in Neverland, two boys exploring a country full of strangeness and wonder.

A short while later, an impatient Veronica smacks Pablo's butt non-too-gently, breaking them apart, and laughs when they both look offended. Exchanging a rueful grin, they turn back to their friend and their conversation. If Veronica notices Bruno's hand resting on Pablo's thigh beneath the table, she's polite enough not to tell. At the end of the night she hugs them both equally hard, and back at his place, Bruno takes Pablo apart with his hands and mouth until he's shivering and gasping. Afterwards, Pablo returns the favour by finger fucking Bruno, slow and deep, his eyes never leaving Bruno's face, his voice the trigger for Bruno's orgasm: "I love you."

Pablo says it over and over while Bruno's whole body shudders, arching off the mattress with the force of his release. Finally, halfway recovered, Bruno shuts him up with a kiss full of sweetness and adoration, but the words never lose their meaning and are repeated in kind, warming the scant inches between their bodies as they both slip into sleep.

***

End Note: Gay marriage became legal in Argentina in 2010.

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