Morning
by Lara
March
2006
Do not archive, translate or otherwise use this fic without permission. You are welcome to link to this page.
All publicly recognizable characters, settings, plot, etc. are the property of C. S. Friedman. The original characters, settings and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with C. S. Friedman and no copyright infringement is intended. This work is an amateur fan effort and no profit is being made.
Damien woke to the semi-darkness of early dawn, soft light filtering through the curtains, and to cool hands on his skin, leisurely roaming and caressing. A warm body behind him, familiar by now, and he smiled as he stretched languidly and felt the hands still for a moment before resuming their movements, more determined now that he was awake.
He tried to turn over then, to take a more active part, but he was pushed back down again and held in place. Not so unusual, that, and he quite enjoyed it when he was in the mood for lazy, slow mornings. There would be enough time to reciprocate later and to make sure that there was no assumption that the passivity was going to be permanent. Not that there would be, though; they both knew this game well enough by now to avoid presuming.
Closing his eyes again, Damien held still and just enjoyed the sensations, making appreciative little noises whenever clever fingers found a particularly sensitive spot and lingered there. He let himself be explored, cool touches counterpointed by a hot mouth on his shoulder, kisses followed by the brief sting of teeth when he attempted to roll over again. More kisses, perhaps apologetic but more likely a show of amusement instead, and he could feel one hand trail lower. He shifted then, turning into the touches and gasping softly when teasing fingers reached their goal. Another nip, at his neck this time, commanding him to hold still. Too commanding, and for a moment Damien felt rebellious, but before he could move or voice a protest, a slow stroke rendered those intentions irrelevant. He'd complain later, he thought absently as he strained not to move, to thrust. Or rather, return the favour and prove that he knew just as well how to tease, and how enjoyable it could be.
His efforts were rewarded with firmer touches, drawing a pleased sigh from him. If anyone had told him before that he'd ever get used to waking up like this, he wouldn't have believed it. And he wasn't used to it, not really, despite the reality of the body behind him and the hands stroking and teasing in just the right way, discovered during previous mornings like this. But it was real, the presence and the attentions, and Damien let himself fall and simply feel. It was easy to get lost in the sensations, as he was supposed to, and in this particular moment he was quite willing to let himself be guided. Desire twined around his mind through the bond that linked them, as teasing and enticing as the touches.
Eventually it became impossible to hold still. He moved into the touches, seeking more, and he didn't care about any plans that might have been made for this. A flash of amusement, paired with want, and the hands on him grasped just a little more firmly, enough to let him reach completion and tumble into gray haziness.
When he refocused again after a few moments spent catching his breath, the touches had turned from arousing to soothing, gentle caresses. It was one of Gerald's facets he was still adjusting to, this need for physical contact that only got expressed in bed.
He was not held back now when he turned to face Gerald and claimed his mouth in a languid kiss which quickly turned into the usual struggle for dominance. It was Gerald who finally backed down this time, gracefully conceding defeat even as anticipation and desire flowed across the channel.
"My turn, I think," Damien murmured against the soft lips.
"Just so," Gerald returned. "Just so."
