Conundrum - SLASH PG-13
Posted: Thu Jan 22, 2009 9:18 am
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
Rating: PG-13 M/M Slash. Please do not read if you are likely to be offended.
Conundrum.
Eyes closed, I considered the contrast of similarities.
He laid next to me, replete, relaxed, cool pale skin against cold dark sheets.
To a casual observer, he looked slightly older than me. He was a couple of inches taller, his physique a little harder, hands work roughened. My hands were strong; elegantly manicured. For me, hard work was a distant memory. I’m the talkative one – his rich baritone too seldom heard – yet he was the one to whisper the words I longed to hear. Words that had nevertheless made me recoil.
In a tangle of limbs I’d felt him murmur against my neck.
“I love you.”
As though responding to my internal maelstrom, he stirred. I tried to will him back to sleep to avoid the inevitable.
Even so, fingers traced the unshaven roughness of my jaw line and tracked cold fire down to my most tender skin. I reacted to him. I always react to him. I tried to force myself to push him away ... to leave the bed ... anything to avoid the confrontation. But my body betrayed me. I moved into his caress. Pressed my lips against his throat. He responded by arching his neck – the invitation clear. I softly sought his jugular vein with my tongue, he pulled me closer and I buried my fangs as he groaned in response.
His muscular back was slick with sweat and my hands skated across the angles of his frame. I kissed his mouth, letting him taste his own blood. Then I explored the salty taste of his skin. His precious self-control deserted him once again. As I explored with my hands, lips and tongue, he moaned and allowed me to be in command. His hands tangled in my hair and his unnecessary breath was ragged.
Then there was stillness.
I stretched out beside him; close but not touching, even though the distance between us was physically painful.
He whispered, “Where do we go from here?”
I winced. What did he want from me? A declaration of love? Some form of commitment? Why was he pushing? I clenched my jaw to stop the words ‘I love you’ from escaping unbidden into the night. Not yet – too soon.
He broke the screaming silence again.
“You know I can’t go back to–” her unspoken name ricocheted off my bedroom walls. “Not now ... not ever again.”
How many times had I dreamed of this moment? A dozen? A thousand?
The well-intentioned warning of my confidante echoed in my mind and tore at my soul: “Be careful what you wish for – because you just might get it.”
***
Rating: PG-13 M/M Slash. Please do not read if you are likely to be offended.
Conundrum.
Eyes closed, I considered the contrast of similarities.
He laid next to me, replete, relaxed, cool pale skin against cold dark sheets.
To a casual observer, he looked slightly older than me. He was a couple of inches taller, his physique a little harder, hands work roughened. My hands were strong; elegantly manicured. For me, hard work was a distant memory. I’m the talkative one – his rich baritone too seldom heard – yet he was the one to whisper the words I longed to hear. Words that had nevertheless made me recoil.
In a tangle of limbs I’d felt him murmur against my neck.
“I love you.”
As though responding to my internal maelstrom, he stirred. I tried to will him back to sleep to avoid the inevitable.
Even so, fingers traced the unshaven roughness of my jaw line and tracked cold fire down to my most tender skin. I reacted to him. I always react to him. I tried to force myself to push him away ... to leave the bed ... anything to avoid the confrontation. But my body betrayed me. I moved into his caress. Pressed my lips against his throat. He responded by arching his neck – the invitation clear. I softly sought his jugular vein with my tongue, he pulled me closer and I buried my fangs as he groaned in response.
His muscular back was slick with sweat and my hands skated across the angles of his frame. I kissed his mouth, letting him taste his own blood. Then I explored the salty taste of his skin. His precious self-control deserted him once again. As I explored with my hands, lips and tongue, he moaned and allowed me to be in command. His hands tangled in my hair and his unnecessary breath was ragged.
Then there was stillness.
I stretched out beside him; close but not touching, even though the distance between us was physically painful.
He whispered, “Where do we go from here?”
I winced. What did he want from me? A declaration of love? Some form of commitment? Why was he pushing? I clenched my jaw to stop the words ‘I love you’ from escaping unbidden into the night. Not yet – too soon.
He broke the screaming silence again.
“You know I can’t go back to–” her unspoken name ricocheted off my bedroom walls. “Not now ... not ever again.”
How many times had I dreamed of this moment? A dozen? A thousand?
The well-intentioned warning of my confidante echoed in my mind and tore at my soul: “Be careful what you wish for – because you just might get it.”
***
you picked out two of my favourite lines. 