Written Wonderland

Juniper tried to listen to his own words and let them reassure him, but his anxiety about the situation was waiting on the periphery of Juniper's awareness, ready to cascade in.

"Thank you," Cory said, letting out a long, slow sigh as he pushed his face more deeply against Juniper. Juniper felt Cory let something down in that, and his own body relaxed in kind. Gently, Juniper rubbed a thumb over the bone of Cory's shoulder, listening to the crickets who had made their home in the park. It really was something of a miracle that Cory and Juniper were here in this moment together--Juniper could scarcely have imagined it when he handed his card to Cory at the party.

Juniper felt Cory smile into his chest, and a reflection of that smile curled onto Juniper's face.

"I've... really enjoyed everything so far," Cory said. Juniper thought he heard a contradiction about to arrive and stiffened slightly, preparing himself for a let down. "I just..." Juniper didn't notice that he stopped breathing, stopped moving, ready to pull away from Cory in an instant. But, then again, Cory had just asked Juniper to hold him.

Cory's face was warm through Juniper's shirt. "...maybe... enjoyed the ear touch almost too much."

The sudden relief Juniper felt almost made him laugh, and his chest did move in that direction briefly, but no sound escaped him. He thought about what Cory was saying, temptations pulling him in many directions. Oh, yes, he desperately wanted to touch Cory's ear again to understand exactly what "too much" looked like, but that seemed unkind and unwise when Juniper didn't fully understand the problem itself.

"What are you afraid of?" Juniper asked quietly, his words teasingly delicate across the proximity of Cory's ear.

Juniper's chest dipped beneath Cory in a subtle jolt of a response to what Cory had said--amusement? Relief? Cory hoped he didn't sound too ridiculous... at least Juniper still held him, and some anticipatory instinct felt excited in Cory's gut, reassuring whatever anxious part of him that it genuinely seemed like things were going well.

"What are you afraid of?" Juniper's voice was delicate, tantalizingly close to Cory's ear, and it sent tingles sparking all over everywhere it gently grazed against, cajoling openness from Cory in a way that was beautiful, wonderful, and just a bit terrifying.

Cory did want to open up, but he nonetheless grew stiff, the melancholy closing back in again. He reiterated the question, though, squinting in a way to try to make out what he could see in the proverbial dark. Something was bringing the melancholy in. But what?

"Being overheard." Cory finally whispered, letting the words flow through him as soon as he found a shape to hold onto--in some ways discovering what he would say in real time alongside Juniper. But, it made sense. Cory relaxed a little, letting go of the stiffness. The melancholy was still with him, but it was looser, floppier almost. Grateful that Juniper was still holding him.

"I don't want to cause any trouble." He added after a beat, feeling that might add an additional helpful clarification.

Juniper felt heady in the wake of his whisper into Cory's ear. He felt reckless and playful, wanting to throw caution to the wind... but, no. He needed to fully understand what Cory needed in this moment, and Juniper knew as well as anyone that there were genuinely things to be afraid of.

Being disinherited, for one thing. Or worse.

And yet, in the blissful dizziness of holding Cory under trees in a park at night, it was delightful. Buoyant. Thrilling.

"Being overheard," Cory ultimately said, and Juniper rubbed Cory's back reassuringly with his thumb, nodding into the top of Cory's head slightly. That rather summed it up in all regards. Cory relaxed again, and something deep within Juniper tightened with excitement, the headiness returning.

"I don't want to cause any trouble," Cory said quietly. Juniper couldn't deny that a part of himself did in fact, want to cause trouble, but Juniper wasn't sure that part was fully prepared for the consequences. He had faced more than enough of those for one lifetime. And yet... he was planning to co-found an illegal bar. That wasn't exactly laying low.

But here, with Cory, Juniper wanted things to be simple. Straightforward. Easy.

Juniper swayed and stepped, shifting so he was more properly facing the path, bringing Cory gracefully along. They were almost dancing.

With a quiet breath, Juniper spoke in a low voice, "Well, I have my peripherals on either side of the road..." There was a light lift of tone at the end of Juniper's phrases. "...and there aren't houses nearby for over a block..."

Juniper dared to move his lips closer to Cory's temple, momentarily able to feel the soft fuzz of hair there.

"I don't have any expectations, but..." Juniper said, pulling a little away from Cory so he might be able to look him in the eye. "...there is room for us here." He smiled reassuringly, perhaps also trying to convince himself. "It may not be much..." Juniper said, sliding his fingers back up around Cory's shoulders, pulling him again into an embrace, their chests making contact, "...but if it's here, we may as well use it."

Juniper hoped desperately that he wasn't coming on too strong. But Cory had wanted to be held, hadn't he? Yes. Yes, this would do. This would do nicely.

Juniper's thumb rubbed comfortingly on Cory's back as he nodded gently, sending a light scattering of faint tingles across Cory's scalp. Cory softly squeezed his hands against Juniper's back, perhaps getting in one last burst of extra closeness before, surely inevitably now, they both surrendered to the melancholy and pulled apart.

But, that wasn't what happened. Much to Cory's surprise, Juniper not only kept his arms around Cory, but he stepped and swayed, leading Cory in a kind of dance as he pivoted direction - Juniper to face the path, Cory with his back fully to it. His back tingled, nervous but excited, if terribly uncertain what about.

"Well, I have my peripherals on either side of the road..." Juniper said softly, sending an elated shiver down Cory's back. "...and there aren't houses nearby for over a block..." Juniper's voice drew close to Cory's temple, yet more tingles dancing down his cheek and neck and shoulder as he felt the faintest shifting of tiny hairs against the man's murmuring lips. Cory drew in a quick breath, his heartbeat jumping briefly into his throat.

"I don't have any expectations, but..." Confusion and a little bit of sadness leapt into Cory's chest as he felt Juniper begin to pull away. He almost clung on, fingers effectively squeezing around the man one last time before relenting. Juniper met Cory in the eye, and Cory swallowed down his nervousness, trying to take in the man's sweet reassuring smile. "...there is room for us here."

A fresh knot coiled tight in Cory's throat, tears welling up in his eyes. Mercifully, Juniper slid his fingers back up around Cory's shoulders, pulling him again into an embrace, their chests making contact. "It may not be much..." Juniper added, "...but if it's here, we may as well use it."

At last, Cory allowed quiet sobs to escape his lips, tears spilling over down his cheeks as he buried his face against Juniper's shoulder. His own shoulders shook with emotion, fingers clinging around Juniper's back. Thoughts tried to form - scattered sentiments like when was the last time...? - but nothing made it to completion, instead expelled from him in a tremble or a tear or a quiet yet unmistakable sob.

Thankfully, it was only a few moments before he began to feel empty. It was not a deep emptiness, but it was satisfying - enough for him to relax, his whole body effervescent now with trust and relief. He drew back from Juniper just enough to bring a hand to wipe at his tears with a blooming crooked, bashful smile.

"Gosh, that was beautiful," Cory said with an airy laugh, hand still wiping away at his cheeks. "I feel a bit absurd."

The words escaped his lips before his mind quite got a handle on what he was even saying -- why did he feel absurd? Well, using this space that Juniper had so eloquently delineated for them to cry all over the man's shirt, of all things. He furrowed his brow apologetically at the wet spot he'd created, but kept up his crooked smile as he raised his gaze to Juniper, steady enough now to take in the man's expression, whatever it may be.

He managed to get through the script he had written mentally for himself before he closed his eyes, his heart racing.

Was he too close to Cory? Juniper tried not to move any closer.

Was he getting lightheaded? Yes. But blissfully so, his body relaxing into it, even.

And Cory cried. Not loud sobs but no less full of grief. Yes, Juniper had quite a lot of that, too. And they really were letting it down together--the cultural shame, the secrecy. The masks.

But Juniper was, himself, tired of crying, eyes dry, using that fact itself to relax around his anxiety to enjoy the moment. Holding Cory. Cory Carter. But more importantly, someone wiling to be vulnerable enough to cry about a collective grief alongside Juniper.

Whom Juniper had invited out to a museum.

And a park.

Cory drew back.

"Gosh, that was beautiful," Cory said, laughing, retracting his hands to wipe at his eyes. "I feel a bit absurd."

And, genuinely, Cory's lips turned in what Juniper thought might be confusion, brows furrowing slightly--so what do they do now, maybe. But, no, Cory was looking at Juniper's shirt, which then also attracted Juniper's attention. Yes, there certainly was a puddle of possible salt stain on the shirt. He took a breath, smiling but finding himself less confident with Cory looking directly at him.

Juniper's smile eventually won out, wide and brilliant, and Juniper shook his head momentarily, turning aside before returning to meet Cory's eyes.

"If all I need to trade is a shirt for the joy I have felt this evening, I'd make it 100-fold." What was he trying to do, write poetry? Perhaps.

But, would they be able to move beyond this grief together? And what did Juniper even want that to look like? Not relinquishing this embrace, for starters. Pulling his awareness out of his mind and into his body, Juniper realized he stood ramrod straight, unmoving. Seized up.

Juniper was holding this grief. Or, at least, his body was. Juniper lowered his gaze, closing his eyes with a deep breath. Opening them again, he looked at Cory as he waited openly, patiently, willing his body to soften, even if only a millimeter.

And yes, the excitement was here, too, leaping up from his thighs and coursing through his veins.

He was grateful that his hips were far enough away from Cory's that they did not touch, even when Juniper's self-control slipped enough to allow blood to flow down, muscles clenching impulsively.

Juniper took another breath.

But, no, what he wanted was the same embrace they had been in, chests close. Just a hug. Just a simple hug. At least for now. They could, surely, at least comfort each other in this.

So, gently, seeking any signal that Cory might want to pull away altogether, Juniper pulled Cory back in, bringing and holding Cory's shoulders to him lightly.

Juniper did look a little bit off when he glanced down to his shirt, and Cory grew worried for a moment, but Juniper shook his head, his smile wide and brilliant by the time he returned his gaze to meet Cory's eyes.

"If all I need to trade is a shirt for the joy I have felt this evening, I'd make it 100-fold."

Cory's own crooked smile grew brighter, a bearthy laugh escaping his lips in delight and gratitude. Juniper was so full of grace. It was almost hard to believe... and, to wit, doubt crept in after another breath, something in Juniper stiffening--or maybe Cory only just managed to notice it. Shoot, Juniper had grief in his own past, perhaps even fresher than Cory's, and here Cory was making him hold someone else's emotions. But, just as he began to contemplate how he might make it up to Juniper--the shirt, the reassurances, the grace and patience Juniper had shown Cory--Juniper gently pulled Cory in again, guiding their chests together with the same warm and patient confidence that had led them through much of the evening.

Cory was pliant and in many ways eager for the closeness again, but something anxious still fluttered in his chest. He closed his eyes and sighed deeply, trying to let go of the impulses that he knew wouldn't be helpful here--to ask for yet more reassurances, to get stuck in yet more worry and grief. Instead, he asked himself, warmly replaying Juniper's words, What are you afraid of?

That he's putting on a front. That he's really bored or annoyed... maybe trying to get somewhere and placating me along the way.

Cory frowned. He didn't want to believe that--didn't feel that Juniper had given him any reason to--but, how could he let go of it? There was one temptation to simply try to push through it--Cory had enjoyed Juniper's lips against his ear, had certainly enjoyed his own flashes of fantasies of kissing the man, of hands roaming more freely over his body... but, he could feel a grim certainty in his stomach that if he did those things right now, it would be because he thought that Juniper wanted them, not because of his own desire in the present moment.

So... what did he want, then?

His mind wandered back to the lovely visual of Juniper shrugging off his jacket in the dappled light, and he relaxed a little bit, easing into memories from really just minutes before that somehow felt like another lifetime. Thankfully, the distance closed remarkably quickly and easily as he began to play out the memories that he wanted more of, his fingers gently beginning to knead again into the muscles of Juniper's back, grounding himself in the shape of them as he felt the rise and fall of Juniper's chest against his own. He could trust his senses, surely--that if Juniper were bored or annoyed, wouldn't Cory's fingers feel that in the man's body? Wouldn't it manifest in the rhythm of his breath? Cory felt and listened, allowing himself to sink back into the pleasure of exploring another body this way with the reassurance that this was the best possible way he could truly discern where Juniper was at, by finally inviting them both back into the present moment, and just observing with loving curiosity whether Juniper seemed ready to join him back there.

Cory did allow Juniper to guide him back into the embrace, which Juniper was grateful for. But, as they continued to stand together, Juniper couldn't help but feel like it wasn't as warm or inviting as the previous one. If Juniper had to place a finger on it, it seemed as though they had both become more tentative in the wake of acknowledging the cloud that so often hung above them and their desires.

He was tempted to bolster himself and Cory, perhaps try to touch Cory in a new way to invite the excitement back in between them, but that didn't quite feel right. And, in all honesty, it needed to be okay if Cory didn't recover. Juniper trusted that, in some context, they would see each other again. Surely this wouldn't be the end of it. If nothing else, Cory had offered to... draw Juniper, hadn't he?

Juniper let out a barely audible gasp of an inhale, exhaling slowly.

There. There's the spark again, Juniper thought as his body momentarily stiffened further only to relax toward a pliability he had not yet revealed to Cory. And, as Cory lifted his hands to knead once more at Juniper's shoulders, Juniper found himself in awe of exactly this moment, tears springing to his eyes as he imagined what it would be like for him to see the two of them from a distance, enjoying each other this way, indulging this way.

Lest he become that imagined outside observer, Juniper briefly closed his eyes, allowing himself to sink more deeply into Cory's graceful, knowing fingers. Somehow, Cory unlocked a bundle of tension in Juniper, and he softened yet further, very nearly leaning on Cory in their shared embrace as a result. Feeling like he also wanted to do something with his hands--or perhaps simply to remind himself that he couldn't sink into this too deeply; he had, after all, offered to be the vigilant one--Juniper gently held the back of Cory's hips, lightly tracing the line above Cory's pant line with his thumbs and enjoying the sensation of Cory's shirt with his fingertips.

He was tempted to say something, to tell Cory that he hadn't dared imagine that they would even touch this evening, let alone embrace to this degree. But Juniper didn't want to pull them back into the museum or anywhere else. He just wanted to enjoy this to its natural conclusion. Bravely, he pressed a little more deeply into the flesh on either side of the small of Cory's back, careful not to stiffen his shoulders in the process, subtly moving his head closer into the warmth of Cory's neck.

At last, he did quietly, breathily, say with what he hoped was awe in his voice, "You are quite good at that."

To Cory's delight, Juniper melted under his touch. He felt open to Cory, his muscles guiding Cory's fingers to a ball of tension that then released with a small, ecstatic ripple through Juniper's body, enticing from Cory a soft, wonderous gasp. Junper was nearly leaning against him before long, and Cory cherished the sensation, his feet sturdy and grounded, his whole body full of intimate awareness of Juniper's against his and every loving way that gravity gently pulled them toward each other and the Earth.

Another quiet, delighted gasp fellt from Cory's lips as Juniper's fingers traced the line of his pants over the backs of his hips, sending tiny sparks dancing around the area. Briefly, a fresh alarm began to raise in Cory's awarness, but Cory reminded himself of what Juniper had said. He closed his eyes and pictured the path behind them, the brief walk they'd taken to get here, the forest surrounding them, the trees presiding below and above. Cory sighed out the tension that had briefly formed, and in its wake a pleasant warmth illuminated his lower belly, imagination tempted toward boldness but ultimately lingering just on the edge, simply enjoying the awareness of their bodies in exactly the contact and proximity they were in. Although, perhaps he did press into Juniper's muscles in new ways, allowing himself a more sensual pleasure in his exploration of the man's form, the ebbs and flows and his tension and pliability, the subtle ways that his breath responded to Cory's touch.

In turn, Juniper's fingers pressed more firmly in to Cory's back, stoking the warmth in Cory's low belly brighter. Cory hummed softly, leaning a little more against Juniper as he basked in the sensation. Then, Juniper said with a quiet, breathy awe, "You are quite good at that," and a sweet, delighted giggle fell from Cory's lips.

He hummed again after, his hips swaying a little side to side, enjoying the ways that Juniper's fingers pressed into his skin. He felt like he should say something witty in reply, but words felt very far away. Instead, he nuzzled his cheeck into Juniper's neck, and then placed a gentle kiss there before nuzzling in again, letting his attention continue to enjoy his own finger's explorations. Bolstered by Juniper's awe, he journeyed slowly down the muscles on either side of the man's spine, beginning to map new territory with a fresh trill of excitement in his own body. He reached the line of Juniper's pants, enjoying reflecting Juniper's gestures back onto his body. His imagination finally explicitly offered a specific bold suggestion--moving his fingers down over Juniper's pants, beginning to explore what he could of the man's backside through the fabric--but he wasn't quite bold enough to carry through. Still, the proximity of the possibility absolutely danced with his motions, pulling yet more quiet hums from Cory's lips.

Cory didn't respond with words, but there was a continual leaning in, culminating momentarily as Cory nestled his cheek against Juniper's neck and kissed there briefly. A flurry of soft, excited butterflies emerged out of his stomach. As Juniper pressed his thumbs a little more bravely into the flesh of Cory's hips, Cory massaged down Juniper's spine, walking his fingers down. When Cory reached the top hem of Juniper's pants, Juniper thought for half a moment that Cory wouldn't stop there, but he did. Juniper's eyes fluttered and snapped open again, paying attention to the walkway.

Gods, Juniper didn't want to stop, but was it wise to continue while he was so affected? And where was the rush? They lived in the same city--they could surely see each other again and had plans to, even. And yet...

Juniper's breath grew deeper in that suspicious flavor of quiet--heavy and potent. "Cory..." Juniper whispered, trusting the tone of his breathy voice to communicate everything there was to say.

Cory could swear he felt the ripple of his own bold thoughts in Juniper's body--a flutter in his own movements; a growing quiet heaviness in his breath. It was absolutely intoxicating, inviting visions of skin against skin, of hip bones and backsides and hands and lips. Maybe even...

"Cory..." Juniper's voice was a breathy whisper, but it carried with it a weighty heat that dropped down through Cory's stomach and swayed his hips forward of their own accord. The next hum from his throat was more of a moan, muffled by a hastily clenched jaw and a desperate nuzzle of his face into Juniper's shoulder. His hands relaxed away from muscle, shifting into more of an embrace.

He held Juniper close, breathing deep and slow. His heart pounded in his chest, nervousness rising as he recognized that one way or another, they faced another threshold. Cory thought about letting another layer of vigilance go and kissing Juniper, or thinking to hell with it and letting his hands roam to places his mind had marked as 'off-limits' before. But, no, he actually sobered a little at the thought of that. If he and Juniper were to truly explore each other's bodies, Cory didn't want it to be a hasty, clandestine splurge in the park. He didn't want Juniper to have to watch the path. He didn't want to find himself pausing to listen, unsure just how safe they really were.

With a heavy sigh, Cory drew back from Juniper, slowly, his hands finally relinquishing the man's back and reaching for Juniper's to hold. His eyes searched for Juniper's in the dappled light from the lamp, hoping that Juniper could somehow see the depth and earnestness of Cory's enjoyment--adoration--of this experience, even with nervousness and melancholy also keeping him company. He thought about a million different things he might say, but finally, he simply settled on his own breathy whisper, brightening his expression just a sparkle as it danced across both of their ears.

"Juniper..."