InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "😍"

As with most of the school clubs, LARP has a clubroom in the lodge. It’s mostly storage—four years’ worth of old costumes and pseudo-medieval decorations and foam swords. Most of last year’s graduates left their things behind for future Gooseberry LARPers. Ravi imagines, in June, he’ll be leaving everything he’s built or sewed or painted. There’s no use for weapons or silly costumes when you’re a Healer.

The clubroom is also the only place in the lodge to which Ravi has a key. He’s not so naive as to think there’s anything innocent about asking a handsome boy to study with you alone, in a locked room, surrounded by somewhat romantic array of fake tapestries and suits of armour; but Ravi’s making the attempt anyway.

“Mr. Merrill’s likely going to ask for parallels between the Centaur Purges and the treatment of immigrant vampires in the Seventies. Speaking of, I found this fascinating book in the library, by a… What was the author’s name? Ah, I wrote it down—” Ravi starts flipping back through the pages of his notebook. He and Diego are sitting at a table in the little clubroom, which had been Transfigured long ago into the kind of rough, dingy wood you’d find in a medieval tavern. Ravi feels as comfortable here as he would in the padded chairs in the library. “Doesn’t it ever astound you that there’s an entire path of history which muggles have never heard about?”

Diego got the message when Ravi had locked the door behind him. Although really, he’s been anticipating this since Ravi suggest they study together. It sounded like Ravi Code for ‘let’s go make out for an hour under the pretense of education’. Locking the door seemed to confirm it.

…Except then Ravi had pulled out a bunch of books and here they are, actually studying. Diego’s still trying to determine if this is a pretext or not. He experimentally nudges his foot very deliberately against Ravi’s.

“It’s surreal, yeah,” he agrees. “Sometimes I just can’t comprehend how they hide it all.”

“It’s more or less the entire purpose of the MACUSA, isn’t it?” Ravi muses. “There was an article earlier this year about improvements in concealment spells, as non-magical people become more sophisticated in their ability to detect hidden communities. Wizards have been almost revealed before by… um, satellite photos, and then laser mapping…”

Ravi doesn’t pull his foot away from Diego’s, although he keeps paging through his notes as though looking very hard for something.

What Ravi’s saying is actually interesting, but Diego’s mind is elsewhere. He keeps talking to preserve the illusion, though. His face is the picture of innocence. “That’s going to keep getting harder to avoid. Muggle technology isn’t going to stop, and we’re so bad at it. I guess that’s changing, though. At my old school kids were definitely not carrying around electronic games. Essie loves this thing called Animal Crossing. It’s really cute but I dooooon’t understand it. I think you play an adorable animal politician and run the super cute local government?” Meanwhile, his toe gently migrates to Ravi’s ankle, and noses under the hem of his pant leg.

Footsie is hardly licentious, especially considering that this is a near-empty room and Ravi is wearing thick winter socks, but Diego’s little touches have him thoroughly distracted anyway. His eyes and fingers stop their search, although when he speaks, he manages to sound composed.

“I believe you’re actually the adorable human politician of the super cute animal town, which nicely takes us right back to our readings on the historical unfair treatment of magical beings in America. Diego.” Ravi leans over to put his hand on Diego’s, although that ends up not being a stop so much as an electric reminder of getting to touch Diego again after… a day? Half a day? Ravi already misses it. They haven’t even done anything except kissing.

He doesn’t remove his hand from Diego’s. His thumb moves just an inch, sliding under the cuff of Diego’s shirt. “We should… really study for that test,” Ravi says in a tone that suggests he might be open to alternate suggestions.

At the touch, Diego leans over and presses his forehead to just above Ravi’s temple. He can smell whatever potion he puts in his hair. Smoky vanilla something or other. “Yeah, we probably should,” Diego murmurs in a voice that indicates very clearly he wants to explore those other options. “But…”

But Diego is pressing a kiss to Ravi’s cheekbone. And then another one.

Ravi sighs and swivels in his chair to face Diego. His chin lifts, putting their mouths closer, even as Ravi says, “But, you’re just barely making a B- in History.” His hands travel up Diego’s arms to rest on his shoulders. Ravi’s voice lowers, soft but insistent. “You’re smart, you could easily raise your average simply by doing the readings. I mean, you seem interested in the material when I talk about…” He brushes a kiss against the corner of Diego’s mouth.

“You just make things interesting,” Diego replies blithely before kissing Ravi, short and sweet. All this flattering talk about his grades is making him want to study less and kiss more. One hand reaches out for Ravi’s waist while the other steadies himself on the arm of the other boy’s chair. “Maybe you should be a teacher,” he says against Ravi’s mouth.

Ravi smiles and kisses him again. “Maybe I should. My mother’s a professor at Rutgers Medical School. Teaching is in my genetic makeup, so to speak.” Another series of kisses, along Diego’s jaw. “Well, actually, she sort of stumbled into it? In London, she’d been… Ah, wait. Talking about my mother right now probably isn’t the best idea.” He gives an embarrassed giggle and presses his face against Diego’s shoulder.

Allowed a second to breathe, Ravi realizes how warm his cheeks are. When he speaks again, his voice is muffled into Diego’s shirt. “I always forget myself when I’m with you.”

Diego stays like that for just a second. Ravi’s head on his shoulder, the rows of costumes behind him, the locked door. It really feels like just the two of them in this moment. Diego’s not certain what Ravi means by what he just said, but he loves the idea. It’s romantic, and he thinks he relates enough to whisper back, “Me too.”

Without warning, Diego starts to stand. Very softly, he takes Ravi’s hands to guide him up as well. “C’mere.”

Ravi allows Diego to lead him, too curious about where this is going to question it. Although most likely Diego just wanted to make things more comfortable—it’s tricky trying to kiss someone when you’re both sitting in wooden chairs, and not great for your backs either. Once standing, he loosely winds his arms around Diego’s shoulders, and grins. “I think I smudged your glasses.”

“Then they’re basically useless now, I’d better take them off,” Diego teases, but does just that, folding the arms of his glasses neatly. The hand not holding them rests on Ravi’s waist. Like this, he guides them both until Diego can place his glasses on the table and the backs of Ravi’s legs are against its edge.

“You can sit,” he urges gently. Now both of his hands are on Ravi’s waist and he’s smiling.

Ravi raises his eyebrows, but hops up to sit on the edge of the table. At least it’s sturdily built, and more than capable of supporting his weight. With Diego’s hands on his waist, this little movement pulls them close, so Diego’s now standing between his knees. Ravi keeps a hold of his shoulders… for balance.

“Diego Morales,” he says in a voice too soft to sound scandalized. “I’m beginning to suspect you have improper intentions towards me.”

“If I do, Ravinder, then you don’t seem to mind.” Diego presses into Ravi. Their bodies are almost flush when he initiates the next kiss. It has a completely different tone and feel from the last. It’s not playful, it has intent.

Ravi holds still at first—letting Diego move closer, letting Diego kiss him, letting the heat of Diego’s body become the only thing he’s focused on as his eyes slide shut. Ravi doesn’t consider himself innocent. Not exactly. He knows he’s less experienced than many of his peers, and likely shier too. The first time Diego kissed him in a crowded hallway, between classes, Ravi had tensed. Diego had stopped, and gently pressed him until Ravi admitted he didn’t like being “having an audience.” He’d half-expected Diego to be put off, but every kiss they’ve shared since then has been like this, in stolen moments and empty rooms, off the trails and hidden by trees.

If Ravi was innocent, he wouldn’t feel this thing he feels every time they’re apart for too long. His thoughts wouldn’t wander during class. His eyes wouldn’t linger on the way Diego walks or on the muscles of Diego’s arms when he has his sleeves rolled up. And he wouldn’t ball his fist in Diego’s shirt or grab him by the back of his neck to urge him closer, trying to deepen the kiss—but Ravi isn’t innocent at all.

Something ignites in Diego’s chest when Ravi grabs him, finally pooling deep in his stomach. He eagerly lets Ravi lead him until they’re so close that the only place left to go is down. Slowly, the weight of Diego’s body pushes Ravi back, urging him onto the table.

Ravi reaches behind him with one hand, blindly shoving their things aside. Pens clatter as they roll off the table, and his head still hits someone’s textbook, but he doesn’t care, not with Diego above him, kissing him with purpose. Ravi buries his fingers in Diego’s thick hair. His legs wrap around Diego’s hips, holding him close.

Diego doesn’t mean to, but he groans against Ravi’s lips during a brief break in the kiss. His hips press into Ravi suggestively as his arms snake around his neck and shoulders. For a moment, it seems as though his kisses are growing sloppy. But… no, no, they’re just migrating steadily to Ravi’s ear, and then his neck.

Ravi gasps as Diego moves against him. Kissing his neck isn’t scandalous—it can’t be, with Ravi still in his school uniform, his shirt buttoned all the way up and the knot of his tie secure against his throat. But the feel of Diego’s lips brushing the delicate skin under his jaw is too little, and too much all at once. Ravi wants him to keep going. He wants more than just—

“Diego— Diego, stop.” He pushes at Diego’s chest, and nearly falls off the table in his haste to get out from under him. Ravi overcorrects, and straightens up, shoulders squared as he swiftly walks around to the other side of the table. There’s books and papers on the floor. His face feels horribly flushed. Ravi puts his hands over his cheeks, in a vain attempt to hide it.

You’ve fucked it up already, Diego berates himself. What the hell were you thinking? Oh, right, nothing. I wasn’t thinking. I’m never fucking thinking. He sits heavily in one of the wooden chairs, heart slamming against his ribcage as his body is slow to catch up with his horrified thoughts. He got carried away, like he always does, and now Ravi’s freaking out. What if this is it? What if Ravi’s been having second thoughts the whole time and this just cemented it?

“I–I’m so sorry,” he pleads, watching Ravi reel with what Diego can only imagine is shame or fear. “I didn’t mean to go too far. I’m sorry, Ravi, I’m really sorry.”

“No! No, no, no, no,” Ravi interrupts, practically talking over Diego’s apologies. He holds up a hand, trying to be reassuring despite the table between them. “You didn’t do anything. Or, well, I suppose you were doing something, but it was absolutely… Which is to say, I’m not— I wasn’t— I swear, this isn’t anything but me being…” He sighs audibly.

He doesn’t know what he’s trying to say. Ravi rakes his fingers through his hair, then does it again, more carefully, to smooth it back into place. He runs his hands over his clothes, to erase wrinkles and straighten out his vest, and pauses as he plucks off something glued to his side. “Look.” Smiling wryly, Ravi waves a lime green sticky note at Diego. “You were focused on studying after all.”

Diego laughs, but his nerves still show through. Ravi doesn’t seem upset, but Diego can’t shake the sudden shift in mood very easily. He fidgets, unable to focus on anything but the lingering tension.

“Too bad we were supposed to be studying history and not anatomy,” Diego sighs, and then immediately cringes as he regrets joking about the very thing that made Ravi want to get away from him. “Sorry,” he repeats, and finally reaches for his glasses. They’re not going to be kissing anymore today.

“It’s alright.” Ravi leans forward, carefully placing the sticky note on his notebook, aligned with the straight angles with the page. The sound of Diego’s laugh soothes him a little, but his heart is still going too hard. He takes a deep breath, both hands braced on the table to steady himself as he waits for himself to calm down.

He can’t look at Diego for that. Diego, with his cheeks pink and his dark hair a tangled mess, looking more handsome and tempting than Ravi can cope with right now. “I’m sorry,” Ravi says too, after a moment. “Sorry. You must think I’m…” A prude. A scared virgin. No fun at all. “…terribly embarrassing.” He puts a hand against his face (still warm), and laughs, self-consciously.

“No, no,” Diego corrects quickly, almost pleadingly. “No, it’s okay. I shouldn’t have… you know.” Diego doesn’t even know. He’s not sure when he crossed the line. He hopes Ravi will tell him. He should just ask. (He doesn’t want to ask.) “I got carried away. I won’t do it again. You’re not embarrassing, I’m embarrassing.”

Ravi looks up. Diego’s wearing the expression of the family dog who just destroyed the living room, and it makes something tighten in his chest, to see how worried Diego is about him. Ravi lowers his hand from his face. “Ah, well. I might be disappointed if you never did that again.” He starts walking back around the table, towards Diego. “Might we give it another try? Only…” He bites his lower lip for a second. “Slower, perhaps?”

Diego’s expressive eyebrows raise on his broad forehead as Ravi comes back over to him. He calms down a little. “Are you sure? I mean, yeah, I can totally do slower.” He raises his hands peacefully, and grins up at Ravi.

That grin makes Ravi smile back. He can’t help it. Although it falters as nerves take over when he’s within arm’s reach of Diego again. He has no idea if Diego realizes what effect he has on Ravi—sometimes, he thinks it’s so obvious that it might as well be painted on his face in red, and everyone else around them can see how he stares at Diego when he’s not thinking about it, or hear how loudly his heart beats when Diego leans in too close and offers one of his sweetly devastating smiles.

“Just…” Ravi exhales. “Stay right there. Keep your hands where they are. Don’t… don’t touch me.” He braces a hand on Diego’s shoulder and moves onto the chair as well, so he’s now straddling Diego’s lap.

“I—” is all Diego can say before… oh. Oh. And Ravi’s in his lap. Diego’s hands hover awkwardly, but he resists the urge to grab Ravi’s hips and pull him in. His heartbeat’s speeding up all over again as his mind wanders to places that are anything but slow. Diego tries to control those thoughts. “Okay, yeah, I can do that,” he agrees with an edge of desperation and confusion.

He’s seated on Diego’s knees, as modestly as possible considering their positions, but Ravi is intimately aware of the space between them. He’s aware of the solid muscle of Diego’s legs, and band of Diego’s suspenders under his school vest. He’s aware of the rise and fall of Diego’s chest as he breathes, with a carefulness that suggests Diego is aware of these things too.

Ravi leans in as though he’s about to kiss him, then pauses, barely inches away from Diego’s mouth. He holds for a moment, waiting to see if Diego will close the gap. When he doesn’t, the barest smile touches Ravi’s lips. “Tell me when you want me to stop.” Without pulling his gaze away from Diego’s, Ravi runs his fingers along Diego’s collarbone, and finds the knot of his azure tie, to loosen it one-handed.

“Don’t stop.” Diego’s whispering, although he doesn’t know why. The moment feels fragile as he waits to see what Ravi’s doing. He doesn’t break eye contact even as he feels Ravi’s fingers at his throat. He swallows in anticipation, and smiles up at Ravi as the knot of his tie comes undone. It’s difficult to resist the impulse to run his hands along Ravi’s thighs, but he does. For now.

The tie ends up needing both hands and Ravi’s eyes to get it undone, and he just leaves it hanging around Diego’s neck. He doesn’t have a plan, only a vaguely formed desire to see what he’s capable of. Ravi knows what he’s not ready for, but every time he gets close to Diego, he ends up getting… carried away. Even with Diego being good and staying still, it’s too easy to get distracted. Ravi forces himself to take his time.

He pops the top button of Diego’s shirt, then the second and third, exposing his throat. He slides two gentle fingertips against Diego’s neck to peel his collar away. Ravi watches the jump of Diego’s Adam’s apple, and feels his own move as he swallows. This is hardly out of the ordinary. Diego wears collarless shirts all the time, and Ravi’s seen his bare neck more times than he can count. But he’s never before leaned down to put his mouth on Diego’s skin, and start kissing him there.

Diego gasps, then sighs audibly as Ravi’s lips touch his skin. The moment without real contact ends, and Diego’s gratitude is expressed through wordless noises. He’s barely thinking about it when his hands fall on Ravi’s hips and slide up his waist to his rib cage.

The second Ravi feels the vulnerable touch on his waist, he pulls back, removing his lips and his hands from Diego’s body. Ravi sits straight-backed, his expression neutral as possible despite the pinker colour of his cheeks, and forces himself to breathe evenly. He imagines himself as one of his old LARP characters, a severe paladin with monk-like concentration. It helps.

“Diego,” he begins, in his mildest prefect’s voice, “what was it I said?”

Diego’s broad hands fly off Ravi’s body. This isn’t the first time Ravi’s taken that tone with him, and it won’t be the last. This also isn’t the first time he’s looked at Ravi with wide, (mostly) innocent eyes and a crooked smile in the wake of being scolded. “Right, sorry.” He holds his empty hands up, caught. “No touching?”

This is definitely not the first time Ravi’s seen Diego try the “dumb but cute” act with him. In these cases, it’s always a toss-up as to whether or not Diego will remember what he said a whole forty-five seconds from now. Ravi presses his lips together to suppress a smile, and moves his hands to his own neck, to undo his green-and-copper tie. “Place your hands on the armrests. Please.”

He slides the silk out from under his collar, and without another word, wraps his tie around Diego’s left wrist and the chair, and ties it off with a secure knot. Ravi then plucks Diego’s tie from his neck with two fingers, and uses it to bind his right wrist. Despite his outward calm, he can’t quite meet Diego’s eyes when he asks: “Is that too tight?”

Diego experimentally tugs at the ties holding his wrists. About a million bewildered thoughts went through his head when he realized what was happening. His cheeks are hot, and if it weren’t for the fact he’d just been tied to a chair, he’d be having a hard time sitting still. Ravi’s calm, methodical movements are an intoxicating counterpoint to Diego’s scattered, excited thoughts.

“No,” he says, suddenly hoarse. “It’s good. I’m, uh, I’m not going anywhere.”

“That’s good,” Ravi whispers. He doesn’t know what he’s doing. Not really. It’s easy to be confident when he fakes being in the mindset, but all that’s led him to is having his boyfriend tied up underneath him. Which isn’t a bad position to be in—somehow, it makes it easier to breathe, knowing Diego isn’t about to grab him by the hips and overwhelm him again.

He shifts a couple inches closer. Diego is still looking at him with wide eyes, and Ravi delicately removes his glasses and moves them to rest on top of Diego’s head. He looks so different without his glasses. Ravi still can’t decide which look he prefers, but bare-faced does make it easier for him to press his lips to Diego’s cheekbone, and kiss a gentle trail to Diego’s ear.

Diego shivers. Ravi’s kisses seem more intense when he can’t have much of a say in what’s happening and when. He tugs at the restraints again, not actually wanting to escape, just to test the tension and to make it even more real that, yes, Ravi just tied him to a chair. He briefly wonders how he’ll explain this to people, before quickly realizing he doesn’t have to, and so he won’t.

Once Ravi’s lips reach his ear, Diego can’t stay silent. “Ravinder,” he pleads. “Don’t stop.”

Ravi smiles, a curve of his lips against Diego’s earlobe. “Not until you ask me to,” he promises.

One of his hands wanders down Diego’s chest, and unbuttons his uniform vest all the way. His fingers slide under the strap of Diego’s suspender, and he feels his way up from Diego’s hard stomach to his shoulder, pausing briefly over the perceptible rhythm of Diego’s heart.

Diego bites his lip as Ravi parts his vest. With nothing else to do, he grips the arms of the chair and tries desperately to keep his breathing steady while feeling Ravi’s hands run across his chest. As Ravi’s palm rests over his heart, Diego knows he must be able to feel every rapid beat.

“I’m okay,” he insists. “Just a little… you know. I’ve never, uh, done this. But I’m okay.”

Ravi laughs, except it’s more breath than laughter, more nerves than humour. “I haven’t either. I…” read something like this in a book, but that seems too mortifying to admit. He ducks his head for a second, his nose butting Diego’s ear as he thinks about what he’s doing. Diego isn’t stopping him. He doesn’t want Ravi to stop and… neither does Ravi. He likes how cooperative Diego is being for him.

“Okay,” he echoes, and shifts to put his arms around Diego’s neck. “Then I’m okay too.” Ravi grins, and leans in to kiss him again, with no intent to stop this any time soon.