He traces Galdra's brow with sweat soaked, trembling fingers. They are golden like the rest of him, thin and artfully arched in a way that give him a strong, noble look. He knows he's really drunk now, having passed somewhere from pleasantly buzzed into true intoxication sometime ago between the first and second time that they had come together. The taste of the wine clinging like a sour ghost on the back if his tongue, too resentful to dissolve its bonds to this world. His face feels numb. His lips vibrate plesantly against Galdra's knuckles when he slides his head to the side to spirit a kiss across them.
"They should be darker" he mumbles and then laughs.
"Hmm?" Galdra pauses from stroking his thigh and looks up, a slight frown on his face when that only makes Pell giggle harder.
Cal's brows were always so dark, all of his hair was except for the unruly golden strands that fell around his face. So many people upon meeting him initially thought that he dyed it but Pell had always known that Cal could care less about such trivialities - for somehar so aware of his own beauty he put precious little effort into maintaining it which somehow enhanced his features rather than smothering them. Swallowing his laughter he turned his head slightly and regarded his companion fully. They were similar these two, they could be brothers but by no means twins. The law of variation was in too strong of an effect here - the brows too light, the chin too pointed, the hair too long. The value of X in the equation - unknown, unnamed, easily substituted for any other number and only confined by the rules of the other constant in the equation.
You could be nohar.
You could be everyhar.
He almost says that out loud then, chooses to whisper it again in his mind instead and reaches up to pull Galdra against him and buries his face in the long golden locks that stream over one shoulder in a tangled waterfall. Galdra's fingers work against him steadily and when he opens his mouth to moan a pair of lips, hot and dry, come down to swallow the noise instead. His whole body trembles once like branches in the wind before a storm and then relaxes, completely surrendering him self. Above him pressed against his chest another heart beats strong and true, his jaw hurts, his body is heavy. The space behind his eyes aches as if it were stuffed with wet cotton soaked by some invisible tide, warm and soothing swelling up from deep inside his belly and threatening to drown his heart.
In reality there is nothing special about Galdra. Too many har in this world and the next with the same sun tanned skin, the same golden hair, and as Tigron surely that means of all there are he has his pick of any one of them. Expandable, unforgettable, unremarkable - it could be anyone above him. And yet . . .
The taste of sunlight and ocean spray is overwhelming. Far below the sounds of a party in full swing drift up through the floor from the bar beneath their room, outside the moon continues to drift in slow, rigid patterns that are as old as the stars and the tide. Pell lowers his eyes and breathes out a long breath, once, twice, and imagines he can almost see it rising up into that perfect celestial balance, where perhaps a solar wind will take it and spirit it against the lips of some other golden haired har lost far away in time and space.
I have no real passion for this pairing. Point in fact I actually dispise it (go home to your wife Pell!). However I took it on as a personal challenge while begining the 52 Flavors prompt, the second of which was Let X be the Value of He Who Lies Beside Me, and as soon as I read that line I knew that in reality there was no other pairing that I could write for it other than GaldraxPell. I did try my best at this and I hope that it comes across as such, even if I was a bit sulky at times and couldn't resist taking a swipe at them now and then.