Snippet #1698152

James's gangly body trembled. Gepetto didn't realize what he was. If James could speak he would tell the man. Would he even be able to speak through the lump that was welling in his throat? But what was this? A whisper. Softly reassuring. You don't need to hold yourself back. Permission to cry? Oh, he was so sweet. James's body shook slightly as a sob tore itself from his throat. This was worse than physical pain. that would pass, but this felt never-ending. His body slowly relaxed, however, as he continued his guttural sobbing. It was almost painful for the sobs to tear themselves from where they had been lodged for the last hundred or so years. Tears of real emotion, not ones from pain.

Gradually, gradually, the sobbing calmed. He felt so much better now. And he felt so warm as well. He felt loved. Gepetto cared about him, didn't he. Why else would James be sitting in his lap, sobbing into his neck? James lifted his head slightly, pressing his cheek against Gepetto's and playing with the golden hair again. Tears still glittered in the adolescent's eyelashes, and his heart still felt heavy, but he'd realized that now wasn't the time to mourn what was to come. Now was to enjoy this warm, glorious moment.

James's ungloved hand, which was in the center of Gepetto's back, found the ridge of the man's spine and started to trail down it, delicately running the tips of his fingers over each raised segment. James's own back wasn't nearly this straight. His many falls and tumbles of late had left it bent strangely, three segments obviously still broken. It made James feel horribly inadequate. But that didn't matter. What did matter was that his body was warm now, sharing Gepetto's heat. His body felt good, and so did the golden man's.

James looked at Gepetto's delicate ear, which was partly obscured by his beautiful hair. James leaned his head back slightly, still pressing his cheek against Gepetto's, and blew lightly on his ear, jusut to see how the warm man would react.