Forest: Okay, how about C/E "making out in the movie theater" -- a traveling show is in town and they attend, and begin to realize how much — and how not enough — they can get away with in a crowded room when everyone's attention is elsewhere.

Disclaimer: They belong to MGM, Mirisch and Trilogy, not to me, woes.

Behind Their Backs

They could barely see the makeshift stage from where they were standing.  Every bench in the Grain Exchange was full, holding more people than they really should, and there were more townsfolk and settlers standing around the edges of the room, without any of the pushing and jostling that Chris had expected.  They were all watching the play that the travelling show was performing like it was the best thing they’d seen in ages.

Well, maybe it is, he thought.

The only lights were the ones by the stage, a few lanterns to brighten that space and illuminate the players.  It wasn’t quite enough to show how shabby the costumes were, how worn and patched and mismatched.

It certainly didn’t stretch to the back of the Grain Exchange, where he and Ezra were standing.  Which, Chris supposed, was why Ezra had chosen this particular corner.  Almost as soon as the play had started, Ezra had started touching him, long fingers lightly stroking the back of his neck, dipping below the collar of his shirt, sliding into his hair.  His shiver as that hand slipped down his back made Ezra chuckle, a breathy huff of laughter that was lost in the shifting of people and the creaking of benches.

Then he felt Ezra turn toward him, felt his hands on his shoulder and hip turning him as well, until they were face to face in the darkness.  Chris’s hands settled on Ezra like they couldn’t be anywhere else, not when he was so close, and before he even knew what was going on, they were kissing.

This is a fuckin’ bad idea, Chris thought distantly, the whole town’s here… But Ezra’s tongue was demanding to be let in his mouth, and he never could say no to that.  His hands drifted down Ezra’s back, pulling him closer, and he was suddenly even more relieved he’d left his jacket behind, because it was hotter in here than he’d expected.

Ezra ended their kiss before their air ran too short, and Chris bit his lip when he traced the line of his jaw with mouth and tongue.  “Quiet,” Ezra breathed into his ear, less than a whisper of sound that Chris heard like a shot.  Then he continued down Chris’s neck, soft kisses with just the barest hint of teeth scraping the skin – nothing that would leave a mark, he realized – until he was thwarted by the banded collar of Chris’s shirt.  For a moment he lingered there, panting against his skin, before traveling up the other side the same way.

Dizziness spiraled around Chris, and he wanted to gasp like there wasn’t enough air, but the continuous murmuring of the crowd a bare few feet away reminded him he couldn’t.  His hands burrowed under Ezra’s coat, clenching in the satin back of his vest, pulling him even closer when what he wanted to do was push him up against the wall.

One of Ezra’s hands wound into his hair, dragging their mouths back together, while the other skimmed down his back, teasing in the notch at the back of his pants before curving around his ass. He bucked forward, grinding against Ezra, letting Ezra’s mouth swallow the soft moan he couldn’t quite contain.

Ezra pinched him sharply, a silent warning to be silent, and Chris growled instead.  He pried his hand away from Ezra’s hip and laid his palm against the front of Ezra’s trousers, rubbing ever so slightly.

A shudder racked Ezra at the touch, and then he dragged Chris’s hand away.  At the same time, he released Chris’s mouth, though he didn’t pull away very far.  Chris could still feel the whiskey-scented warmth of his breath hushing over his face.  “Later,” he whispered, so close that Chris could feel Ezra’s lips move against his own.

Not quite sure he’d be able to speak, Chris just kissed him again.

When the lanterns at the back of the Grain Exchange came up a few minutes later, they were standing beside each other again.  Chris was slouched against the wall, wishing like hell he had worn his coat.  He glanced out the corner of his eye, noticed how puffy Ezra’s lips were as they curled in a satisfied smile, and had to look away.  Instead, he watched the townsfolk shuffling out of the building, and tried to figure out just how soon he could make it up to Ezra’s room without being seen.

***
February 6, 2011
© randi (K. Shepard), 2011