Theme: Father's Day
A/N: Yes, yes, I know this isn't the one I promised at the end of last chapter, but it's father's day, and this little idea just popped into my head and demanded to be written. I don't question my muse when it shoves ideas at me. Anyway, this piece is a bit more mature than the others I've written so far. This particular drabble hovers somewhere between T and M rated. Nothing graphic though. More poetic, I think. Anyway. Enjoy. :)
~Song
The early morning sunlight slants in through the window, illuminating a tangle of blankets and limbs. Gold embraces porcelain. A delicate hand rests against a broad chest. The ring on the fourth finger catches the light, refracting it and throwing rainbows.
Indigo eyes watch steady breathing as small fingers trace idle patterns across warm skin. The cadence shifts, quickening as a strong arm pulls a small body closer. Cotton sheets slip over bare skin in an intimate whisper of cloth. Soft lips press a silent kiss against a pale shoulder.
Long eyelashes flutter, revealing dark irises still clouded by dreams. A quiet greeting drifts lazily through parted lips. A low, masculine voice, rough with sleep, returns it.
"Good morning."
Lips meet in a different kind of greeting, welcoming the new day languidly. Fingers thread through locks of orange. Legs tangle together. Fingers entwine. Bodies meet in a rhythmic slip and slide augmented by a chorus of breathy exhalations.
Firm muscles tighten under glistening skin. Soft sounds morph into something more guttural; languorous caresses acquire an earnest undertone.
A name is forced out in harsh syllables broken by ragged breathing and suppressed groans. The rhythmic press of bodies deteriorates into the erratic twitch and jerk of muscles. Gasping breaths falter and catch, fading into brief silence shattered only by the inaudible pounding of blood jumping through spidery veins.
A broad torso slumps over a smaller one. A head buries itself between neck and shoulder. Damp orange locks brush heated skin. Two hearts slow and beat as one. Movement becomes possible once more; bodies lose contact as lovers shift. Large hands snake around a slim waist, pulling a pale back against a solid chest.
Slender fingers trace tanned forearms. Smooth hands rest atop rougher ones, pressing them against a small bump protruding almost unnoticeably between sharp hip bones.
"Happy Father's Day."
The words hang in the air momentarily. A body rights itself slowly. Brown eyes flick between the hand still pressed against a pale navel and dark eyes that glow with satiated happiness.
Flat brown melts into chocolate warmth. A delighted, awed grin crawls across angular features. Calloused fingers trace a line from cheekbone to jaw tenderly. Lips brush the curve of the stomach, silently greeting a new life.
Next Chapter: Fruity
"You taste nothing like strawberries."
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