Patience Awards Sinners
Their lips met, and he sighed in pleasure. Finally. Finally. Many years of denial had come before this moment. Many sleepless nights, many secret glances, many baseless fantasies. This thing called 'love' it eluded him, and he hated it. He hated the insomnia, the sick twisting of his gut, the endless days of wondering, worrying, when.
All he knew was now. Now. Finally.
The lips against his own were soft, dry and pink. Warm and experienced as they moved together, gently and easily exploring. And there was a cliche moment where the whole world melted away. They were the only two people who mattered. The universe was theirs. His, just like this creature, beautiful before him.
All he had ever wanted was gripped here, tightly inside his fingers.
The hate dissipated, leaving behind stirred desire, raw and aching need. His fingers, stiff and numb from the cold night air, clenched in the endless waves of gold that he loved, soft against his fingers. Finally. He was able to touch and taste and claim. This beauty. This angel of a man was his. And he loved the sin of that more than anything.
Don't stop. Please don't ever stop.
Their kiss was slow. So slow and sweet that he wanted to cry. Finally. This taste that he had longed for, had spent many nights dreaming of. He swore he would memorize it. Each tiny sound that escaped, nearly unnoticeable, except that he was listening for them. There was no passion in the kiss. Just sincerity. Just a taste of what he had yearned for. Just a taste of what he had finally achieved. Finally captured. The elusive angel whose arms were around his waist had finally been captured. And he would never let him go.
He would keep him in a golden cage, if he had to.
Too long. Too many wars. Too much hate. Too long in a world of destruction. Too long aching for something that was right before him, right at his fingertips, in his reach. Now touching him, against him, kissing him.
They separated. He stared into blue eyes. Memorized each crack, each sparkle, each tiny smile, each unshed tear. He licked his lips, savoring the taste that had seared him. After waiting and wishing and grasping out blindly, he had snagged that slippery thing called love.
"Arthur." His name was sighed out, heavenly, an undeniable sin. He rested his head against the solid chest, listening to the hammering heart beat. Whatever words he wanted to say were choked down as he breathed in the scent of cologne.
Finally. Finally.