HongIce.
Prompt: Relaxation
Calmness is his name, whispered with a tender love; drifting smoke held in a hand stained with nicotine, the steady gaze of one who is used to watching, and waiting, holding his own across the vibrancy of the narrows streets of Hong Kong.
And for reasons unnamed, unknown, Leon is all the word has come to mean to him, from that day on.
In Eírikur's heart, calm is the boy with the soul of water, still and powerful; peace is held in the abyss of the dark water reflected in his eyes; his own reflection staring back.
Yet his relaxation calms as it killed, the warmth from his lips kissing down his neck, the slickness of his skin against his; the serenity of his presence soothing the burning fire that smolders inside him.
Before him, he was not calm, not at all, the blood coursing through him, scorching his veins like the lick of a flame, a constant beating like a thousand drums that played through him.
Yet when the words that mean the most-I love you-are whispered in the curve or his neck, across his skin, it becomes clear.
He is the scorch of flame and he the water, languid and utterly free.
And if it is love, it is good for his soul.