part 12, It's almost cute.
May. 1st, 2003 11:20 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sparkindarkness2 posts so close together? I must be sickening for something! Either that, or I finally have inspiration now my guys are together. I seriously should be doing more work - but I'm thinking REAAAAL hard about work - and it is the thought that counts, right?
It's warm... so very warm. And soft. Wonderful... I feel... good. where am I?
There's a weight on my legs, firm and warm. Another across my chest. It's pulling me against something warm and strong... but soft at the same time. I open my eyes.
I'm laid in a large and hugely comfortable double bed. It's so soft! These sheets must be silk, so many layers. And all white... The weight is a strong nicely muscled arm, tanned a rich golden brown. Heat raises from it in a wave. The lower weight is a long - so very long - muscled leg. Rick is laid on his side beside me, pressed against me in fact. I feel a long line of heat from shoulder down to ankle where our skin meets in one contiuous line. His face is buried in my neck, so all I can see is that thatch of unruly golden-blonde hair, hair spun from sunshine. I feel his chest rise and fall against me, deeply in sleep.
I start to panic. But only start. I can;t seem to hold on to my panic, my fear. I've let another get close to me, another I can hurt, kill, maim. I couldn't stand to torture Rick, I would die! No panic. No fear. No matter how I dredge what horror stories I try to conjure, I can't seem to raise my pain. I feel... good. Relaxed. Safe. Happy. But I'm not safe! I can't be safe, there is nothing to be happy over! Even as I think them, I realise that I don't believe it anymore. I may know that it's true, but I don't believe it. I lay beside Rick and can't feel the painful darkness of my heart. It's frightening. And liberating.
I grab the ward on my chest, pulling it away from skin. It sticks slightly as the burning metal adheres to the melted skin of my torso, leaving a blackened mark on my pale skin. The pain is intense, but it always is. It can't shift my mood. I am too used to this agony, and too... happy with where I am for something so minor to shift my joy.
I clenched my hand around the pentacle, it seared my flesh and brought a gasp from me. The pain brings tears to my eyes. I open my eyes, and look down the length of Rick. The angst stays down, the darkness is there, but it is pushed down deep. Smothered by a wave of joy and peace. I catch sight of myself in the full length mirror Rick has on one wall. I'm grinning. Even with a tendril of smoke rising from my hand, I'm grinning like a child at Yule who has been given everything he could ask for.
I stuggle out from under Ricks imprisoning arm. Forcing myself past not only his superior strength - something he made abundantly clear last night. That just widens my grin, it felt good to be... helpless for a time, even if it was an illusion, it was nice for someone else to have the power, the control for once - but I fight also against my own wish to stay in his arms until he wakes. Some stubborn streak in me refuses to give in to the rising comfort inside and shies away from it. It's new and strange...
I stand and walk to the window. Or I intend to, instead it turns into a kind of slow hobble. My body seems to be spotted with bruises, but they're over shadowed by a stiff, throbbing pain from my rear. Rick wasn't gentle, and he is definately very gifted in one very important asset. Of course, that was probably more my fault than his. I stretch and catalogue the different pains in my body - the rubbed chafing at my wrists from the handcuffs - the clever, powerful things lie now on the table beside the bed, and I can't resist picking them up and tracing the runes. The bruise on my arm where Rick grabbed me and threw me against the headboard. The muscular pain from the incesseant pounding of Rick's body into mine. The deep scabbed scratches on my back from Rick's fingernails. The bruises and scratches acorss my chest where Rich grabbed at me madly in wild abandon. They feel good, so very good...
The window is covered by extremely thick long white curtains. Curtains so thick that the room is in gloomy half light, despite it being 9:00am. I brush them aside, marvelling at the thick layers of fabric that make up each one, and thick, syrupy sunlight bathes the white room. The effect is almost dazzling. Rick groans slightly and shifts, burying his head a little deeper into the pillows, not I aren't next to him. Despite this, he still appears to be asleep, not a morning person, I'm betting.
Still, I can take advantage of it. During the night he seemed to have kicked all the covers onto me, leaving him almost naked. Only his leg, raised to lay on top of me, prevents him from being fully exposed. In the bright sunlight reflected off the white room he stood out and looked amazing, artfully framed in the shining room.
I walked naked around the bed, taking it all in. His short hair - not even totally covering his ears, looked like the sunlight given form. His rich, beautiful tanned skin shone like amber, somehow liquid. He was dusted only lightly with hair, around his nipples and down the centre of his chest and stomach - a line pointing the way. He must work out, he's beautifully mouscled - not in a body builder kind of way, but more like a swimmer or a basketball player - slim and firm and strong. Every ab muscle perfectly defined, his pectorals swelling perfectly. His gorgeous backside was firm and rounded and tight. Even in sleep he wore a slight grin, like he was dreaming about wicked things. He lay on the bed like some golden angel and all pain and suffering was forgotten - with him in front of me in all his glory, how could anything be bad?
I don't know how long I spend staring at him, but the clock says half an hour. Couldn't be that long could it? Well, I can't do this all day (I push down a small voice that is desperately telling me I can). I reach out to wake him, before changing my mind and crawling onto the bed on all fours in front of him. I untangle his head from the den of pillows and kiss him gently on the mouth. He sighs softly, but doesn't wake up. Ok, deep sleeper, I try kissing harder, forcing his mouth open. He kisses me back, and one hand raises to stroke my cheek. I lean back to look into those beatiful eyes - and he's still asleep! I was debating finding a bucket and a tap before deciding on a more direct route. I raise one hand as high as I can above my head and slap that gorgeous backside - it was practically begging for it anyway!
That wakes him up, with a starteled yelp. Ok, maybe I did hit him a little hard, you can clearly see a bright red imprint of my hand on his poor arse, and I am stronger than I look. He turns those beautiful eyes to me, looking a little indignant, before softening for some reason, becoming mischevous. That look makes me suddenly aware that I'm naked a leaning over him on all fours, makes me feel a little self-conscious. When he grins I suddenly get the impression that revenge is on the cards. I can't help but wince, after last night I have no illusions about his strength, or how likely I am to stop him without using magick. Besides, I'm going to have enough trouble sitting down today. I try to hold his gaze and suppress the part of me that's chanting how wonderful it would be for him to take that step, to take control so totally again.
He reaches back and rubs his sore arse. "You're a fucking evil alarum clock, Darren," he's still grinning though. "You can spank me as much as your like," definately still grinning, "but wait 'till I get up first, 'kay?"
"You do know it's quarter to ten right? Do you plan on sleeping all day?" will I have to drag him out of bed every morning? I barely finish the thought before it strikes me like a thunderbolt that I intend to wake up next to him again... repeatedly. And it still doesn't scare me.
"QUARTER TO TEN?! I never believed it before, but you ARE the font of all evil!" he's glaring at me now - mock glare of course, well, I think so anyway. "Scratch me laying here and you spanking me. I'm going back to bed." His grin was truly wicked now, "when I wake up, you're gonna need some serious cushions. Waking a guy up before noon when he doesn't have to is banned under international law and by three major religions!"
Before noon?! "Do you intend to spend your life in bed?" No-one needed that much sleep.
He grinned even wider - I didn't think that was possible, and grabs me. I try to pull back - not seriously, his grip is loose enough to pull free if I really want to. A part of me resents that, I don't want the chance, or choice of escape. He brings me down inexorably on top of him, grinning up at me.
"Spend my entire life in bed," his voice is deep, throaty. "Sounds like a plan."
It did to me too, but I fight down the distraction. Alright, I kiss him then fight down the distraction.
"I want to know what is happening today. I need to know what the plan is." I generally have one most mornings - even if it is just a trip to the off-license.
"Fuck, you don't have to plan, make it up as you go along, it's bound to sort itself out." I just stare at him. It's a wonder he can afford all he can with that attitude. "Fine. A plan. Right. No. 1 is either I get to go back to sleep or, you get me a coffee. No. 2 is I whip your ass for getting me up early and whipping mine. No. 3 we have wild hot monkey sex." Well, even I didn't think we had to plan for that.
"No. 4 , we go to your place and see if there's anything you need to bring here. And cancel your lease." He's not grinning now, he looks very serious. His eyes give the seemingly casual statement a question. I swallow. Do I want this (him 'whipping my ass' notwithstanding)? Do I want to move in with him? So soon? Despite the risks? Before I even finish the thought I nod and smile, a wavering, uncertain smile, but still a smile.
"No. 5, before anything else, I'm going to kiss you."
He suited his words. It wasn't the mad passion of last night, it was a gentle, deep kiss. Not as hot, but far stronger with meaning. The kiss sealed my resolve, our resolve. I was moving in with him. We were going to be together. We will wake up every morning next to each other, and go to sleep every night in each other's arms.
It didn't scare me at all.
It's warm... so very warm. And soft. Wonderful... I feel... good. where am I?
There's a weight on my legs, firm and warm. Another across my chest. It's pulling me against something warm and strong... but soft at the same time. I open my eyes.
I'm laid in a large and hugely comfortable double bed. It's so soft! These sheets must be silk, so many layers. And all white... The weight is a strong nicely muscled arm, tanned a rich golden brown. Heat raises from it in a wave. The lower weight is a long - so very long - muscled leg. Rick is laid on his side beside me, pressed against me in fact. I feel a long line of heat from shoulder down to ankle where our skin meets in one contiuous line. His face is buried in my neck, so all I can see is that thatch of unruly golden-blonde hair, hair spun from sunshine. I feel his chest rise and fall against me, deeply in sleep.
I start to panic. But only start. I can;t seem to hold on to my panic, my fear. I've let another get close to me, another I can hurt, kill, maim. I couldn't stand to torture Rick, I would die! No panic. No fear. No matter how I dredge what horror stories I try to conjure, I can't seem to raise my pain. I feel... good. Relaxed. Safe. Happy. But I'm not safe! I can't be safe, there is nothing to be happy over! Even as I think them, I realise that I don't believe it anymore. I may know that it's true, but I don't believe it. I lay beside Rick and can't feel the painful darkness of my heart. It's frightening. And liberating.
I grab the ward on my chest, pulling it away from skin. It sticks slightly as the burning metal adheres to the melted skin of my torso, leaving a blackened mark on my pale skin. The pain is intense, but it always is. It can't shift my mood. I am too used to this agony, and too... happy with where I am for something so minor to shift my joy.
I clenched my hand around the pentacle, it seared my flesh and brought a gasp from me. The pain brings tears to my eyes. I open my eyes, and look down the length of Rick. The angst stays down, the darkness is there, but it is pushed down deep. Smothered by a wave of joy and peace. I catch sight of myself in the full length mirror Rick has on one wall. I'm grinning. Even with a tendril of smoke rising from my hand, I'm grinning like a child at Yule who has been given everything he could ask for.
I stuggle out from under Ricks imprisoning arm. Forcing myself past not only his superior strength - something he made abundantly clear last night. That just widens my grin, it felt good to be... helpless for a time, even if it was an illusion, it was nice for someone else to have the power, the control for once - but I fight also against my own wish to stay in his arms until he wakes. Some stubborn streak in me refuses to give in to the rising comfort inside and shies away from it. It's new and strange...
I stand and walk to the window. Or I intend to, instead it turns into a kind of slow hobble. My body seems to be spotted with bruises, but they're over shadowed by a stiff, throbbing pain from my rear. Rick wasn't gentle, and he is definately very gifted in one very important asset. Of course, that was probably more my fault than his. I stretch and catalogue the different pains in my body - the rubbed chafing at my wrists from the handcuffs - the clever, powerful things lie now on the table beside the bed, and I can't resist picking them up and tracing the runes. The bruise on my arm where Rick grabbed me and threw me against the headboard. The muscular pain from the incesseant pounding of Rick's body into mine. The deep scabbed scratches on my back from Rick's fingernails. The bruises and scratches acorss my chest where Rich grabbed at me madly in wild abandon. They feel good, so very good...
The window is covered by extremely thick long white curtains. Curtains so thick that the room is in gloomy half light, despite it being 9:00am. I brush them aside, marvelling at the thick layers of fabric that make up each one, and thick, syrupy sunlight bathes the white room. The effect is almost dazzling. Rick groans slightly and shifts, burying his head a little deeper into the pillows, not I aren't next to him. Despite this, he still appears to be asleep, not a morning person, I'm betting.
Still, I can take advantage of it. During the night he seemed to have kicked all the covers onto me, leaving him almost naked. Only his leg, raised to lay on top of me, prevents him from being fully exposed. In the bright sunlight reflected off the white room he stood out and looked amazing, artfully framed in the shining room.
I walked naked around the bed, taking it all in. His short hair - not even totally covering his ears, looked like the sunlight given form. His rich, beautiful tanned skin shone like amber, somehow liquid. He was dusted only lightly with hair, around his nipples and down the centre of his chest and stomach - a line pointing the way. He must work out, he's beautifully mouscled - not in a body builder kind of way, but more like a swimmer or a basketball player - slim and firm and strong. Every ab muscle perfectly defined, his pectorals swelling perfectly. His gorgeous backside was firm and rounded and tight. Even in sleep he wore a slight grin, like he was dreaming about wicked things. He lay on the bed like some golden angel and all pain and suffering was forgotten - with him in front of me in all his glory, how could anything be bad?
I don't know how long I spend staring at him, but the clock says half an hour. Couldn't be that long could it? Well, I can't do this all day (I push down a small voice that is desperately telling me I can). I reach out to wake him, before changing my mind and crawling onto the bed on all fours in front of him. I untangle his head from the den of pillows and kiss him gently on the mouth. He sighs softly, but doesn't wake up. Ok, deep sleeper, I try kissing harder, forcing his mouth open. He kisses me back, and one hand raises to stroke my cheek. I lean back to look into those beatiful eyes - and he's still asleep! I was debating finding a bucket and a tap before deciding on a more direct route. I raise one hand as high as I can above my head and slap that gorgeous backside - it was practically begging for it anyway!
That wakes him up, with a starteled yelp. Ok, maybe I did hit him a little hard, you can clearly see a bright red imprint of my hand on his poor arse, and I am stronger than I look. He turns those beautiful eyes to me, looking a little indignant, before softening for some reason, becoming mischevous. That look makes me suddenly aware that I'm naked a leaning over him on all fours, makes me feel a little self-conscious. When he grins I suddenly get the impression that revenge is on the cards. I can't help but wince, after last night I have no illusions about his strength, or how likely I am to stop him without using magick. Besides, I'm going to have enough trouble sitting down today. I try to hold his gaze and suppress the part of me that's chanting how wonderful it would be for him to take that step, to take control so totally again.
He reaches back and rubs his sore arse. "You're a fucking evil alarum clock, Darren," he's still grinning though. "You can spank me as much as your like," definately still grinning, "but wait 'till I get up first, 'kay?"
"You do know it's quarter to ten right? Do you plan on sleeping all day?" will I have to drag him out of bed every morning? I barely finish the thought before it strikes me like a thunderbolt that I intend to wake up next to him again... repeatedly. And it still doesn't scare me.
"QUARTER TO TEN?! I never believed it before, but you ARE the font of all evil!" he's glaring at me now - mock glare of course, well, I think so anyway. "Scratch me laying here and you spanking me. I'm going back to bed." His grin was truly wicked now, "when I wake up, you're gonna need some serious cushions. Waking a guy up before noon when he doesn't have to is banned under international law and by three major religions!"
Before noon?! "Do you intend to spend your life in bed?" No-one needed that much sleep.
He grinned even wider - I didn't think that was possible, and grabs me. I try to pull back - not seriously, his grip is loose enough to pull free if I really want to. A part of me resents that, I don't want the chance, or choice of escape. He brings me down inexorably on top of him, grinning up at me.
"Spend my entire life in bed," his voice is deep, throaty. "Sounds like a plan."
It did to me too, but I fight down the distraction. Alright, I kiss him then fight down the distraction.
"I want to know what is happening today. I need to know what the plan is." I generally have one most mornings - even if it is just a trip to the off-license.
"Fuck, you don't have to plan, make it up as you go along, it's bound to sort itself out." I just stare at him. It's a wonder he can afford all he can with that attitude. "Fine. A plan. Right. No. 1 is either I get to go back to sleep or, you get me a coffee. No. 2 is I whip your ass for getting me up early and whipping mine. No. 3 we have wild hot monkey sex." Well, even I didn't think we had to plan for that.
"No. 4 , we go to your place and see if there's anything you need to bring here. And cancel your lease." He's not grinning now, he looks very serious. His eyes give the seemingly casual statement a question. I swallow. Do I want this (him 'whipping my ass' notwithstanding)? Do I want to move in with him? So soon? Despite the risks? Before I even finish the thought I nod and smile, a wavering, uncertain smile, but still a smile.
"No. 5, before anything else, I'm going to kiss you."
He suited his words. It wasn't the mad passion of last night, it was a gentle, deep kiss. Not as hot, but far stronger with meaning. The kiss sealed my resolve, our resolve. I was moving in with him. We were going to be together. We will wake up every morning next to each other, and go to sleep every night in each other's arms.
It didn't scare me at all.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2003-05-01 04:14 pm (UTC)It didn't scare me at all. Good for you, Darren.
Re:
Date: 2003-05-02 09:00 am (UTC)My guys are together! *hugs his guys, ignoring Darren's angry protests*