GyllenHolland: Chaos Walking

Don't

Tom lay in his flat's bed, face buried into his pillow. His ass was up in the air, and his hands were being held by Jake, who was plowing into him. "Jake!" He moaned. "I'm cu-cumming." He outcried noisily one last time before his tip overflowed with his cream, his blankets becoming dirty.

Jake kept his arms in place, slamming into him one last time before he climaxed. "Fuck." He groaned. His load shot into his boyfriends hole, and he pulled out soon after. He laughed softly, plopping down onto the bed beside Tom.

Tom rolled over onto his back, feeling Jake's hot cum leak out of his area. He pressed his head into the pit of his arm, lying an arm over his chest. "What are you laughing about?" He put forth.

"I can't get your mom's words out of my head." He snickered. "And just imagine what she would do if she saw us now."

Tom laughed with him. "She'd probably have a heart attack." He smiled, kissing his chapstick stained lips. "So," he hesitated, "sleep?"

Jake nodded. "Absolutely." He yawned, pulling the covers over both of their lukewarm bodies. He rested the side of his head against Tom's, before letting his eyes fall heavy, eventually drifting into a slumber.

Tom chuckled to himself. Not even two minutes after they finished having sex, and Jake was out like a light. He moved his legs into a more comfortable position and kissed Jake's neck. He let his mouth part and relaxed his muscles, finally allowing his eyes to close.

Black.

Pitch darkness, with only the sound of the wind whispering to be heard. Except it wasn't the wind. It was voices. The same belittling, ruthless, reckless voices that could be heard in Tom's mind when he's at his lowest. They spun around his brain in circles, creating a terrifying tornado. The storm scooped him up, destroying his sanity.

He reached out of the twisted funnel, trying to grab onto something. Maybe, just maybe, if he could pull himself from the storm, he'd be okay. His hands landed on a handle. It felt warm, so he squeezed it. There was hope. Alas, his palms became sweaty and his grip loosened. "No!" He screamed. The tornado pulled him away, sucking him into the dark winds.

Tom's eyes flew open, his breathing heavy. His hands were shaking and his forehead was sweaty. He sat up straight and looked towards Jake. He was rolled over onto his side, facing the other way. He let out a sigh. He rarely has nightmares anymore, but the ones he does have are traumatic.

He mentally scolded himself as he stood from his bed. He put on a pair of boxers, keeping his eyes on the floor as he exited the bedroom. He stopped walking when his feet landed on his bathroom's tile. He slowly reached under the sink cabinet, grabbing a black and white razor. He exhaled depressingly as he slid the cap off, holding the sharp object to his wrist.

"Tom? What are you doing?" Jake asked. He pushed open the door to take in the scene. He'd taken the courtesy to redress himself too, wearing sweatpants now.

Tom sighed. "You know what I'm doing, Jake." He began to slide the razor across his wrist.

Jake ripped the razor from his hand. "Don't." He walked around him and threw it into the trashcan.

Tom let a tear fall, he balled his fists up. "Why do you care so much?"

Jake lifted his chin up with his finger. He kissed his lips. "Because I want to marry you one day, Holland." He kissed him again. "And I don't want someone who I want to spend the rest of my life with constantly hurting themself."

Tom searched his eyes for any anger, but to his surprise he only found compassion. He leaned forward, pressing their lips together. He placed his arms over the back of his neck, having stand on his tippy toes as the kiss became more heated. Their tongues twirled around each other, their saliva swapping into the others mouth.

He finally pulled back, catching his breath. He laid his head on his shoulder. "So when's the wedding, Gyllenhaal?"

Jake laughed. "Not for a long time." He kissed the side of his head. He lifted Tom up from underneath his legs, carrying him out of the bathroom. He made his way back to the bedroom, lying him down on the bed. "Where are your oils at?" He asked.

Tom leaned up and kissed him. "In the side of my luggage bag." He watched as Jake pulled away, and began looking for his essentials.

Jake sat back down on the bed, untwisting the cap. He poured the lavender liquid out onto his finger tips and then gently began applying it to the sides of Tom's neck.