| Daylight filters through the sheer curtains covering the cut glass window, spreading its warm, golden fingers over the room and the lithe body beneath the thin, white sheet. The form moves, the sheet slides along silken skin to bunch across a pair of naked, slender hips. The man in the bed groans softly and rolls onto his back, having been caught up in thoughts, a sort of waking dream state that isn't like sleep, but isn't like being fully awake, either.
His chocolate eyes open and he gazes up at the vaulted ceiling above him, blinking in quiet bewilderment, the emotion making his eyes limpid and innocent, boyish. His bare chest rises and falls as he takes a slow breath, struggling to shake off the last of the memories, and return fully to reality and the present. He lifts a hand and runs his elegant fingers through a thick, rich fall of red and black hair, the bi-coloured strands whispering satin-smooth through his long fingers. He sits up, looking around the room slowly as he blinks away the last vestiges of that daydreaming state, his full lips pursing, then his twice-pierced tongue flicking out to moisten them. He slides from the bed, the sheet falling away from his naked form as he pads on bare feet to the window, unphased by his state of undress. He brushes aside the sheer curtains and opens the window, leaning out to look upon the day with curiosity, as if he isn't sure where he is, or how he got there. He allows his mocha gaze to sweep the verdant green hills and rolling farmland surrounding the house, confused but pleasantly surprised by the beauty of the surroundings. He leans back into the room and looks around at the simple, yet attractive furnishings, walking over to a chair where his clothing has been discarded. He picks up his jeans and slips them up over his hips, buttoning and zipping them absently. He digs in the pocket of his jacket and finds his cigarettes and a lighter, taking the time to light one of the vanilla cigarettes before moving to the door out of the bedroom. He opens it and passes into a warm, brightly lit hallway, and turns, following his nose to the scent of bacon and eggs. He can hear someone moving around, no doubt the cook, and he exits the hallway into a living room, rustic and masculine, he pauses only briefly. His stomach is rumbling and growling as he steps through the swinging door into the spacious kitchen/dining room. He breathes deeply and exhales, savoring the scents wafting up from the various pots and pans on the large Coleman stove. He drags off his cigarette and heads for the stove, mouth watering in greed for the food, stomach still clambering. "It's not ready yet...Sit down and have some juice, and I'll bring you a plate when it is done." The gruff, manly voice issued from a pantry door to the right of the stove and Damien looks up, blinking. He studies the tall, ruggedly handsome man for a while, noting his plain white shirt and worn blue jeans, and the short blonde hair that needed a trim where it fell into grey eyes. He nods mutely and heads for the carved wooden table, taking a seat and watching the man as he goes about finishing breakfast, noting that he moves with a hunter�s grace. He shifts as he feels himself growing ardent, hungry for something other than food. He studies the mans body in his clothing, the muscles born of hard work, the tanned flesh from working in the sun, the golden Adonis physique that is so different from Damien�s own swimmers build. He licks vanilla from his lips and speaks finally, his voice so deep and sensual that it has a presence, a force of will, the ability to envelope a person in the sound, smell, taste and feel of hot leather and fudge, indulgent. "I'm afraid that I don't remember who you are, or where I am..." He drags off his cigarette again, studying the man and becoming more aroused by the minute. The man fills two plates with large helpings of bacon, eggs, toast and sausage, and carries them to the table. He sets one before Damien and sits across from him, looking into those molten eyes with a slight smile, allowing a glimpse of bright white teeth. "You wouldn't....I found you in the woods, passed out, and I brought you here. I hope you don't mind, I undressed you and put you to bed." Damien shakes his head, and smiles slightly. "I don�t mind at all....I appreciate your help....I'm Damien." He shifts and leans to offer the other man one of his slim, elegant white hands. "I'm Jonathan...." The man leans forward as well and his warm hand encapsulates Damien�s, the rough skin scratching gently against Damien's smooth palm. Damien shivers slightly and swallows, murmuring. "Pleasure to meet you...." Jonathan doesn't let go of Damien�s hand, instead he turns it over and lifts the palm to his lips, placing a light kiss in the center, his day�s growth of stubble tickling Damien's flesh in a delightful manner. Damien groans softly and stands, moving over to slip himself into Jonathan's lap, fingertips brushing the hair from his eyes as he leans in to kiss him deeply. They remain locked in that deep, soul-shattering kiss for what seems an eternity, both desperately, almost frantically clinging to the other. When the kiss breaks, Damien rests his forehead on Jonathan's shoulder, breathing fast and shivering with the primal -need- to have this man. Jonathan lifts Damien in his arms and strides from the room, carrying him, through the living room, down the hall and back into the bedroom. There clothes are cast off, as are inhibitions, though Damien has none to begin with, and they become a single entity in the bed. Pale limbs intertwine with golden, flesh ceases to be solid and they meld together seamlessly at times, a tumult of sweating, panting, glistening gods. One so beautiful and sensual and the other strong and handsome, they touch and taste and stroke and savor, every inch of each of them getting attention, neither going long without feeling some new brand of pleasure. They remain in this fevered state of lustful exploration for over an hour, their food forgotten, as they feast on each other. Soon, their hungers are slaked and they slow, coiling around each other, touching tenderly now, kissing softly, and licking sweat from flesh. They end up curled together in the center of the bed, nuzzling and speaking quietly of nothing; words are useless after such an emotional and physical introduction. They know each other now, far better than if they had spent their morning conversing, and so conversation is no longer required. |
| Good Morning Warning: Yaoi. Extreme Adult themes. |