Written Wonderland

Cory's hips swayed forward, and his voice hummed heavily, nuzzling into Juniper's neck. It set off a ricochet of delight and terror through Juniper's torso. He blinked at the path, assuring himself that no one was coming. No, they still had this delicious moment to themselves.

Then again, Cory's hands relaxed, and Juniper sensed the moment might be ending. Still, Cory's breathing was methodical and pleasant against Juniper's skin, summoning him back.

Then, Cory sighed with a heaviness that made Juniper's chest ache as he pulled back from Juniper. Cory grasped Juniper's hands in solace, eyes searching as Juniper allowed himself to take in the man's face--the swept blond hair; the lifted, curious brow, the curve of Cory's jaw.

With a soft smile and the brilliance of a spark, Cory said, gently, "Juniper..."

Juniper's brows lifted and wavered there--surprised, but perhaps he shouldn't have been. He thought immediately of that first moment when Cory rolled the syllables of Juniper's name over his tongue in the Black Butterfly. Briefly, Juniper had to close his eyes, though he squeezed Cory's hands in reassurance. An image of them each saying the other's name in the darkness of his bedroom, lips against skin, came unbidden to mind, and Juniper's breath caught in his throat. He had difficulty letting it back out.

He... they... couldn't. Not now. Not yet. Juniper needed time to... think. To make a rational decision about all this. And, besides, hadn't Cory pulled away?

Juniper opened his eyes somewhat apologetically, though he looked to the ground and recovered momentarily, meeting Cory's eyes once more.

He searched for the words to thank Cory for the whole experience, but everything fell short. He resisted the urge to pull Cory back into an embrace, knowing that wouldn't help his resolve any.

"I didn't imagine I would keep you out quite so late," Juniper offered, releasing one of Cory's hands to brush some of his own hair out of his eyes with a small smile. "Is there... somewhere I could walk you?"

It was probably unwise to walk Cory all to way to wherever he lived, but surely he could at least get Cory closer. Juniper wasn't fond of the idea of Cory walking alone at night.

Juniper's brows lifted and wavered, and a tiny, nervous excitement in his gut danced with the sight. Then the man closed his eyes, his breath catching in his throat as he squeezed Cory's hands, filling him with warmth. Cory was astounded by the depth of affection that he felt in his chest, delighted by the imaginations that poured through his mind of cupping Juniper's face in his hand, of brushing hair from his brow, of caressing his chest. Something in him cautioned that it was far too soon to grow attached to this feeling, but he resolved to simply enjoy it in this moment, beholding Juniper suspended in their breathy whispers, when Cory could not help but think that he might be imagining similar.

Alas, when Juniper opened his eyes, it was with a hint of apology, which Cory could not help but meet with a slightly worried raise of his own brows, though his smile was still warm and wide. Juniper looked down to the ground briefly before meeting Cory's eyes again, and Cory relaxed, revelling in the beauty of this man's gaze, in the indulgence of holding it for a long, sweet moment.

"I didn't imagine I would keep you out quite so late," Juniper offered, releasing one of Cory's hands to brush some of his own hair out of his eyes with a small smile. "Is there... somewhere I could walk you?"

Cory's eyebrows rose again, just a little, though this time there was a dash of humor to it. I don't think either of us imagined this. The words playfully flitted through his mind, but they didn't find inspiration on his lips, save perhaps just a subtle uptilt of his smile on one side. He nodded, then, squeezing Juniper's remaining hand before letting that go, too, and stepping closer to his tree-hung jacket, slowly mustering the intention to re-don.

"I'll be headed toward the trolley stop." He said, pivoting back toward Juniper, perhaps gauging whether the man was also moving toward his own clothing, or not quite ready for that step yet. Cory found himself loathe to get back into his jacket, dreading the impulse to re-tighten his tie. If Juniper was also dreading such things, perhaps they could somehow commiserate together; or, if Juniper seemed prepared to cross that threshold, then perhaps Cory could draw strength from his resolve. Or, at least admire the sight.

Cory lifted his eyebrows, his glowing smile turning up a little further on one side as he squeezed Juniper’s hand one last time before letting it go.

The artist walked perhaps too readily toward the tree where they had both hung their jackets, and Juniper stared at the draped cloth, willing the image to burn into his mind such that he might paint it—or more realistically draw it—if he could muster any creative ability.

At least, he contented himself, he could revisit this memory, no matter what else happened.

“I’ll be headed toward the trolley stop,” Cory said, turning back toward Juniper. It’s wasn’t exactly an invitation, but it wasn’t a rejection either. Despite having taken steps that direction, Cory wasn’t especially eager to put on his jacket—he seemed to linger where Juniper’s eyes met Cory’s, and Juniper felt the urge to fall forward into those dark golden pools of awe and wonder.

Juniper smiled and looked to the side again, trying to muster his own resolve to be a decent citizen and also not be careless with his heart. He needed to go slow, if they were to do this at all. And, do what, really? What did Juniper think would happen?

Anything, he thought helplessly.

He shook his head, eventually looking back at Cory with warmth and eagerness.

“If you’ll have me, I’d be honored to accompany you to the stop.”

He wanted to take Cory into his arms once more, but he feared the moment had passed, or at least the explicit permission for it had, and he felt sheepish about asking for it again. He did let his eyes linger on Cory’s shirt sleeves, though, allowing himself to imagine what Cory’s skin would feel like against his fingers.

Juniper was still glued to his spot, his gaze on Cory like a caress. Cory felt he nearly swooned.

Then, Juniper looked to the side again, bashful if Cory dared say, and at last gently shook his head at himself before returning his gaze to Cory.

“If you’ll have me, I’d be honored to accompany you to the stop.”

The small curl of humor returned to Cory's lips as he realized his previous answer to Juniper had been more vague than he'd intended. He gave an earnest nod, hoping to reassure the man.

"I would be delighted."

Cory nodded, saying, "I would be delighted." Juniper smiled and lingered another moment, reluctant to close up. Eventually, though, he knew that they needed to--they couldn't stay in this park forever. He managed to move his feet at last, gathering his jacket and putting one arm through its sleeve and then the other, being acutely meticulous about the adjustment of his collar and where the shoulders lay if only to add a few more moments to this encounter. When he had properly buttoned and smoothed his jacket, he looked at Cory.

"Well, let's get you home, then, before the trolley stops running for the night, shall we?"

After they had walked a few paces, with Juniper very aware that they would soon walk by other people even if they hadn't yet, Juniper quietly asked, "Do you... have people pose for your artwork often?"

He meant it as light and conversational, but he did want to know how low he needed to set his expectations--if, of course, Cory had even been serious about his offer in the gallery.

Juniper smiled and lingered, and Cory positively basked in the moment. He supposed, that Juniper also seemed loathe to dress was heartening, in its way. He soaked in this place, these trees, this moment in time. Relishing all the many brush strokes it might one day inspire.

At last, Juniper moved to start donning his own jacket, albeit with a delectable meticulous slowness. Cory gathered his jacket as well, not wanting to be the one to drag his feet, but he was also similarly slow, indulging in peeks at Juniper's process in every lull of his own. He may not have gotten to quite as much smoothing and preening of his own jacket, but he did at least get it buttoned--though he ultimately completely forgot about his loosened tie.

"Well, let's get you home, then, before the trolley stops running for the night, shall we?"

Cory smiled at Juniper more widely than made any sense to him, but he couldn't deny he was ridiculously happy. What an amazing evening, which he would surely cherish. Cory nodded, and they began to exit their little secret forest grove. A little ways down the path Juniper asked, "Do you... have people pose for your artwork often?"

Cory's eyebrows rose just a little, his gaze glancing to Juniper a little sidelong. His first impulse was to answer just the literal question--he did like to do artwork of people, and it was always a delight and an honor for someone to pose for him--but a slight nervousness in his stomach was quite sure that that wasn't exactly what Juniper was asking. After all, they had discussed a fairly particular type of art that Cory had invited Juniper to pose for.

"It's been a while," Cory said softly, a little breathy in his delivery. He almost left it at that, but then grew worried that he really ought to clarify exactly what question he was answering, lest the answer ring dishonest in the long run. "Since I invited someone to pose in... that way."

Juniper held his breath.

"It's been a while..." Cory said quietly, "...since I invited someone to pose in... that way."

Juniper felt heat rise into his face. That way. So, Juniper hadn't been imagining it or drawing unrealistic conclusions. Cory had spoken about drawing Juniper... nude. Or, at least, wanting to, which was still a far cry from making it happen.

Unconsciously, Juniper adjusted his tie.

He let Cory's statement hang in the air a while, not sure how exactly to follow that up. He was afraid he might have invited the melancholy again. Or, perhaps the melancholy was simply more present now that they had emerged from their moment of relative privacy.

After a few more breaths, Juniper said, "Well, I... certainly won't hold you to anything, but should the offer still appeal to you in daylight, then... I suspect I would... accept."

He couldn't look at Cory while he said it. It was difficult enough to get the words past his lips.

"Do you still have that card I gave you?" Juniper asked, finally looking at Cory with all the casual curiosity he could muster--nothing untoward or out of place. It wouldn't last long. He had to look at the path ahead of them again. "It lists my address. You are welcome to leave or mail correspondences there, if inspiration should strike." Something about slipping into formality was comforting, the familiar patterns well-worn like a good pair of shoes.

Juniper reached a hand up to adjust his tie--an adorable gesture, truly, although it did stoke an embarrassment in Cory as he realized he'd forgotten to straighten his own tie. He got stuck, just briefly, pondering whether he ought to try to do that now, or whether the moment had passed. In the end, Cory's hands slipped nervously into his pockets, perhaps hiding from whatever might convince them to finally mess with his tie.

"Well, I... certainly won't hold you to anything," Juniper spoke, and Cory refocused on him, though the man's gaze was distant."...but should the offer still appeal to you in daylight, then... I suspect I would... accept."

Somehow, it took Cory a moment to regather the context of their conversation, which of course he recognized was absurd once he found it again. He smiled crookedly, but warm and wide, and began to nod before Juniper added,

"Do you still have that card I gave you?" Juniper at last met Cory's gaze then, but something about the man's expression filled Cory with a horrible sensation like he may have committed a great offence by not having it on his person this very moment to produce. He swallowed, his smile subduing, though he didn't let it fade entirely--he knew he was being absurd--and he gave a gentle nod, a vision of the card safe in its resting place warming his mind.

"It lists my address." Juniper stated, businesslike, as he returned his gaze to the path ahead. "You are welcome to leave or mail correspondences there, if inspiration should strike."

For a brief moment, Cory felt sadness about Juniper's formality, but he reminded himself of the man's fluster in speaking just moments before, of the nature of the correspondence they were discussing. Of their breaths as they touched each other not so long ago in the woods.

Cory relaxed, exhaling his anxiety with a calm resoluteness, and he turned his warm, crooked smile back up to its full, sweet brightness.

"I'll be in touch, for sure."

The melancholy was strong as the desire rose to literally touch Juniper--a hand to his arm, perhaps--but the weight of potential gazes kept his hands in his pockets as they walked. Still, it wasn't so unpleasant, now--lightened by their moment in the woods, the pleasant warmth of that memory so nearby, the promise of more art and intimacy to come. Maybe Cory was being too hopeful--maybe Juniper might actually get cold feet in the daylight--but, he couldn't bring himself to look at that possibility now. Not with the man still standing next to him, still beautiful beneath the street lights they passed, still emanating a subtle, pleasant warmth. Cory basked in it, wanting to soak up every moment that he could.

Juniper began doubting himself the moment he was finished speaking. Had he been too bold? Had his tone landed... poorly? Had Juniper made all this sound like a... a... transaction?

Surely not. This was genuine. Juniper was... trying to be playful and missing the mark fatally.

He cracked a smile. It was absurd in its own way. Juniper looked up, inexplicably hopeful as Cory's exhale visibly relaxed the muscles under the man's clothes.

"I'll be in touch, for sure."

Juniper could have giggled, but he held his breath, just. He closed his eyes, having significant difficulty not imagining what it would feel like for Cory to reach for him, gently take his arm, and lead him back to that grove of maples. Juniper managed an exhale and opened his eyes, surprised to find himself still walking forward, his body knowing the path ahead well.

He slowed and then stopped altogether, looking at Cory with a giddy awe, his subconscious wildly aware of the possible risks of looking strange if someone were to see them, halted as they momentarily were.

Juniper hummed and chuckled, shaking his head with a smile and walking forward again. This was a good moment, no matter how long it lasted.

But, was there nothing they could do? Not holding Cory's hand, not touching his shoulder, not glancing the back of Juniper's fingernails patiently down Cory's cheek...

The fantasies are going to be relentless, Juniper realized.

Maybe he did need to stop this. Maybe he did need to put on the brakes. After all, Juniper knew too well the consequences of moving quickly.

Enjoy the potential energy, Juniper thought. Bask in it.

"We should turn the corner up ahead," Juniper said, his voice slow and sultry, just above a whisper. Maybe there was a way to touch Cory with only the tone of his words.

"There are three more blocks until the train," Juniper said, gesturing slowly in the air with one hand and placing his other in his own pocket.

Juniper's pace slowed and then stopped altogether, and Cory blinked curiously at the man, who looked back at him with a positively delightful smile--open and full of a sparkling awe, absolutely worthy of a painting. Cory was nearly stunned for a moment at the sight. So much so that, even after Juniper hummed and shook his head, Cory lagged behind a step or two once the man began walking. He hustled quickly to catch up, a little bit breathless with the fantasy onf grabbing Juniper's hand once he did. Perhaps it was good that his hands were still tucked firmly deep inside his pockets.

"We should turn the corner up ahead," Juniper said, his voice slow and sultry, just above a whisper. It sent a ghost of a tingle down Cory's cheek and neck. Was it absurd to enjoy the sound of someone's voice so much?

"There are three more blocks until the train," Juniper added in that same sultry tone, captivating Cory's gaze as well as he gestured slowly in the air with one hand.

Cory absolutely could not wait to draw this man. To revel fully in beholding him. And to touch him again, to share every marvel and spark of awe.

Cory realized after a moment that he had been walking without fully seeing what was in front of him, his mind having drifted to fantasies. He came back into the street, Juniper's gesture having been completed some steps ago, silence having sat between them. Cory hoped that Juniper had not been disappointed by the quiet. Was there something that he should say?

No, no, no 'should's. Cory shook his head at himself, and finally just smiled to Juniper, sidelong and a little coy, but surely just heavy-lidded enough to acknowledge the impact the man had made. And, surely, hadn't Juniper been going for an impact?

Cory didn't hold Juniper's gaze long, nervous about communicating too much to any passersby. Soon enough he turned his gaze down to the ground beneath him, his smile widening gently in the spaciousness of looking at no one in particular.

"Thank you for walking me." Cory finally said. He wasn't sure he quite managed sultry, but he did hope that his tone could carry his genuine warmth and happiness, at the very least.