Just a small thing, mostly descriptions of the boys. Short and simple although you may notice a rather eerie underlying feeling to it. Feel free to see it in your own way...
The single line in the end is a CKY lyric from the song 'Escape From Hellview'.
Enjoy...
"Last Calm"
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I admired Kyle from afar, or rather, from across this bed. A single lamp set the room in a dim light, casting a soft glow over him and bringing out the golden tan of his skin. Shadows hid in the smooth contours of his body and I found myself drawn to him. Drawn to him like poison from a cobra. He lay on his back so I could see the long tattoo that reached up his side. It was a rather gothic looking pattern, centered around a symbol, but stretching out in faintly vine like patterns and arrows. It was symmetrical and a deep black, something I could never get over. This tattoo, this marking, it transfixed me.
I managed to pry my eyes away so I could take in the rest of him. He had one arm behind his head, and one resting over his toned stomach.
He wore those tight, grey boxers that drove me absolutely crazy. He didn't wear them often, but when he did, I made sure to let him know of my fondness for them.
My eyes ran up his chest to his face where his own eyes were closed, mouth open slightly. He breathed softly and I felt my veins fill with nothing but adoration, caring, lust, and love for this man.
I moved over to him, tucking my head under his strong arm. He rolled over slightly, turning so he could see me. His eyes opened slowly, bright as they probably were when he was born eighteen years ago. His yellow eye always reminded me of some kind of animal. His green eye appeared more human. He kisses my forehead softly, brushing my dark hair from my eyes.
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Stan was pressed firmly against my body, his pressure had woken me and I now admired him as he slept. His skin is a slick, healthy tan, muscles firm and captivating. I slide a hand down his abs to the edge of the green Abercrombie boxers he's wearing. His chest is solid, moving up and down in shallow breaths. I release a hot breath of my own against his neck, feeling him shiver in his sleep. His black hair falls over his icy blue eyes which are closed, black eyelashes delicate like spider webs. There isn't anything delicate about Stan except for those lashes. They look as if they were spun by silk. My breath feels sickly hot as I press my lips to his parted ones. My hand fingers the elastic of his boxer, teasing and unsure.
I decide to let my love sleep, withdrawing my hand. I instead wrap my arm around him and let my hand rub his side lazily. Calmness covers me like a cloak.
They make the rounds at the midnight hour, and on the clock it's just a minute away.
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Reviews?
Sweetfur