A/N: Just a little one shot from their past had to come out before I got on with a longer fic. Hope you enjoy enough to leave some words :D
There is a current of live electricity in my arm. I'm not sure when it formed - sometime between his whispered demand that I kissed him and his lingering promises of love. But whenever his index finger runs up my bicep I sting. I would tell him to stop, but the current shoots from my arm, pumps through my very core and collates like pure psychical need in my cock. I contemplate telling him that he electrocutes me, and that we might need to be worried, but he is looking particularly blissed out, that delicate smile on his face, and I will not lift the veil from his eyes.
"You can't possibly be hard again!" His voice crones sleepily.
Barely lifting my head away from my territory on his lower abdomen, I form a reply against his skin "sure about that?"
This electrical current shoots from my arm, pumping through my core and collating like pure psychical need in my cock - and that is why I have been almost permanently hard for the last eight hours.
"That was a rhetorical question, more of a complaint than…"
"A complaint?"
"Not a complaint…definitely not a complaint," he says and I can see the laughter in his eyes. "But seriously I am completely spent, I don't know where you get your energy from."
"It's alright, I want you to be walking tomorrow." I give him that lewd wink and he rolls his eyes in that perfunctory way that I have missed every day. "You look like you couldn't move if your life depended on it…which if you were wondering is perfectly fine by me." I purr as I move my mouth to the still not recently explored part of his inner thigh. Gently I run my mouth upward treasuring his small instinctual laugh, and then suck on the skin closest to his cock, adulating that moan.
"Christian - we have to get out of bed eventually!" He sighs.
I fold my arms onto his stomach.
"Why?" I ask and tilt my head to the side, seriously questioning what could warrant moving from this paradise.
"Well, what would we do about food?"
I think, for roughly half a second, before scooting up the bed toward him, and nuzzling my head into his shoulder.
"You're pretty tasty."
I capture his laugh before pressing my teeth into his pulse point in the way I know will release the perfect reaction. That moan of his blends with today's other noises and touches of love, and I seriously wonder if I will ever have the strength to be separated from him again.
I start to feel the subtle awakening of his attraction to me, telling me there is still energy for playing. I press open mouthed kisses down his perfect torso, one destination in mind.
"And when we need to go to the loo…"
OK, on second thoughts.
"Right well I won't be doing that."
He smiles teasingly, his fingers brushing through my hair.
"And I need a shower."
"Ah well that I can definitely help you with." I tell him, wiggling my eyebrows as thoughts of long soapy touches fills my mind.
"That would be pretty great."
"Yeah?"
"Hmmm." He smiles reaching for my kiss.
I control our embrace as soft and slow, filling each little movement with the deepest love in the way that only he has ever shown me how. His fingers trace along my stubble, a whispered caress.
He speaks softly as he pulls away, "but seriously, darling-"
"Darling?"
"Well definitely not baby. Honey?"
"And what exactly do you mean by that Syed Massood? And really - honey?"
"Absolutely nothing… sweetie…cupcake?"
"Sweet cheeks?" I laugh, leading a hand of his to my tensed arse.
"Hmmm." He grins his appreciation.
"Superman?"
"Might not have longevity, I can hardly call you that in the street can I?"
The idea of him calling me any term of endearment in the street tastes like pure joy. But I can't afford a single push from the strength of my love.
I check myself in time, and pout camply, "you would if I was really your superman!"
His laugh is light and carefree.
"OK how about Clarke?"
"Now that, I can live with." I say, reaching for another one of those heart-felt kisses, knowing our term of endearment is perfectly laced with secret touches of our history.
"Do I get to call you Louis?"
"No!..." He laughs through his smile, rolling his eyes at me.
But then his features turn serious. "Clarke-"
"I was only joking!"
"I know, but I, need ten minutes."
The request hits like a paralysis, pausing my movements and the pump of love around my heart. I'm reminded that we weren't always like this. I'm reminded of the pain and heartache and ashes that have led to us being here. I'm reminded that there's an outside framed around our paradise.
"Right."
"This is it now I'm not leaving you, I just…"
"I get it Sy, but I'll… miss you, that's all."
"I'll be in the other room! Well hopefully you'll be kind enough to be in the other room, seeing as the only other room is the bathroom…"
"I'll go and have a shower."
There is a part of me that is so happy that he's able to be himself here; it's just that part isn't as big as the part that can't bear to share.
He presses his lips against mine and promises me, "ten minutes."
I laugh slightly, "baby steps?"
"Toward a future together," he promises before treasuring me with a longer, lingering kiss.
He climbs out of bed. I watch him pull on his boxers and t-shirt, covering himself for the modesty of his religion, and I kick myself that I couldn't have just shut up and let him have this. It took a while, but I understand now that a future with him has to include his religion. I know that his faith is part of what makes him amazing. And If I make him feel like he can't have that around me then I am no better than them.
"Sy, I hope you-" my words stop, lost in my stupidity. I hope you what? Have fun? Get to talk to Him? "just-"
His trailed touch on my cheek calms my words, and his smile takes away my foolishness.
"I know," he whispers. "I love you."
I take his hand in mine for a second, before leaving the bed to give him the freedom he had to ask for.
As I close the door to the bathroom I hear his whispered terms of worship. I smile that he found a place for all he is here with me. I will try harder to show that it is every part of him that I want. As much as I may want him to stay forever in my embrace, I know his time has to be shared.
I step into the shower and the rays of water feel glorious against my skin. He has given me eight hours of bliss. Into our love he has absorbed, in turn, all of my worries, and my soul-burning desperation, and fervoured obsession. He has promised me that he will stay, and I've never felt more complete. I bend to lather my hands with face-wash, and curve my fingers around my features. I smile as I realise I can still smell him on me. I will never again be without the lingering sensations of us.
I begin the slow luxurious massage of shower gel into my exhausted muscles, and know that I could never ask for more than he has given me. With him, I am made into someone better and I can never want for more than he is. I blink my eyes open and my heart skips a beat as I am faced with his beauty.
He stands, watching me, his lips parted and eyes wild.
"Coming in?" I ask.
Without a word he pulls off his t-shirt. I let my gaze flicker over his torso, the small perfect dent of his abs. He waits for my eyes to reach his again and he doesn't abandon our connection as he steps out of his boxers. His movements are slow and calculated for my lust. Confidence shines from him. His smile shows me that he knows how much I want him, the darkness in his eyes whispers the passion that echoes through him, and his slow steady gaze carries a promise that he ever won't avoid it. My breath catches as my gaze drinks him in.
He lets the communication between our bodies say all we need to as he slides the shower door open. I lose my breath in his newly found strength as he cups my face between his hands. With just the power of his eyes he demands our kiss with the snare of teeth and the battle of tongue. He takes my breath, and leaves me panting as he draws away.
He is glorious. His dark lips tremble. His eyes dance with lust. Water presses his fringe against his skin, and cascades down his body.
"I love you," his voice carries as though he is talking with his whole body, his whole soul. And I know that he is purely here with me, with no thought of others. I know that today he won't go, I know that he is mine forever.
"I know," I whisper.
"Let me show you how much."
