AN: Yet another thing I didn't know where to go with. Sorry I'm so uninspired lately, I just need to write but I don't know what to write.
Summer was the sound of cicadas. It was the flowers blooming, proudly and beautifully. It was kids screaming joyfully and chasing one another through the sprinklers as their parents watched, speaking of plans of the beach and barbecues. It was family and friends and lovers enjoying the sun. It was shorts and sunburns, first and true loves.
Mostly, to Arthur, it was Matthew laying sprawled on the couch. His cheeks too red and his shirt riding too high on his abdomen. It was him reprimanding the younger blond about dripping his ice cream everywhere and being dismissed. It was reading with the others head resting in his lap.
Arthur remembered the small things. He remembered how Matthew put him in his place on matters, made him stick his foot in his own mouth during most conversations. He remembered taking long walks and going to the beach to listen to the waves kiss the sand.
It was all so very romantic to him. Not that Matthew's idea of Summer was much different. It was definitely romantic.
To Matthew Summer was whining and being lazy. He never liked the heat.
Well... he definitely liked the /heat/. Their bodies curled around one another, hot breath against each others lips with furtive kisses and quiet confessions. Yes that had to be Matthew's favorite part of Summer. The heat within the heat. Head thrown back and toes curled with knots painfully twisting against his stomach until they couldn't knot anymore and his release came in a shuddering gasp, swallowed by a desperate kiss from Arthur.
And oh, he was so beautiful when he came, cheeks flushed and chest rising and falling quickly as he panted. If he finished first and was well fucked Arthur was left to his own devices. Matthew would be far too consumed by his lovely glow to be of any real help besides gentle caresses, sloppy kisses, and sweet encouragements.
What they both could agree on though, was that summer was what happened when the lights were out and the doors were closed.
Summer was cuddling. It was them exploring every inch of one another in such an intimate way that it left them both breathless without even having to do a thing. It was gazing, deep pools of rich jade into eternal lilacs. It was soft 'I love you's and falling asleep in one another's arms.
Summer was beautiful.
Summer was theirs.
Summer was love.