In Your Bedroom
At night when you turn out the light,
Think of me, smile and feel all right
And when you lay your head down to sleep,
May I be the one who fills your dreams
Are you lying wide awake? (in your bedroom)
Are you trying to fall asleep? (in your bedroom)
-Eve6, Foiled Again-
Markus's mouth crumbles like sugar beneath your lips. He is slick, hot, honeyed passion, with a taste that clings to the back of your tongue and flavors every breath you take. Kissing him is like making love with just your mouths, and as heady as the sensation is, you can feel yourself slipping away. You could indulge in that soft, searing mouth for hours, but they are hours you do not have. You have only this one night, and there is so much more you want to do.
He gasps in protest as you pull away, only to resume his purring as your mouth descends to taste his skin. You lick along the angle of his jaw, the faint scratch of stubble burning your tongue, exploring places you haven't touched in over ten years. You reclaim the column of his throat, feasting on the tender flesh, and his quiet moans tickle at your ears and blaze a burning path through your stomach straight to your groin. You ravish his throat with hungry, bruising bites, clenching your teeth tightly around succulent mouthfuls of flesh as he writhes and cries out beneath you. His forehead and chest glisten with sweat, and you sweep your tongue tenderly across his collarbone, collecting the moisture, unsurprised when the saccharine bursts against your tongue. Even his sweat is sweet.
Curious, feeling both ravenous and playful, you explore the sweat-slicked expanse of his chest, tracing lines of muscle with your fingertips and then chasing the invisible patterns with your tongue. Your mouth finds his nipple and without any conscious thought closes around it, sucking hard to bring a startled gasp to his lips. His hips jump and collide with yours, and it has been so very long, but your body has not forgotten. Your mind is in a hundred different pieces, trying to take in everything at once, but your body needs no guidance; it knows what it wants. Your hips press down against his as your teeth close around the bit of flesh still captured there, and the metallic taste of blood blossoms on your tongue. He is shaking and whimpering, perhaps in pain, but his hands are on your back and he is begging you not to stop.
"Mer," Markus whispers, his voice scratchy and rough with passion, "jag behover mer av er."
You give him more. You nip savagely at his smooth, pale stomach, then coax the blooming wounds into brilliant bruises as he sucks needily at your fingers. When they are wet enough for both your liking you push the tips slowly into his body, pressing soft kisses to his flat stomach when he tenses and gasps in pain. You nuzzle his thigh as you continue, slowly, your lips ghosting along his erection and drawing a very different gasp. Your tongue swipes at the soft skin as your fingers pump inside of him, your very first taste, and the sweetness threatens to overpower you. Your own erection is already slick, you could come just like this, just from the taste of him, but you don't want it to end this way. Not the first time, not after all these years. You crawl back up his body and kiss him hungrily, and you feel him understand.
"Nu," Markus whispers, pressing that sweet mouth to your ear. "Nu, tack, nu Nik. Jag behover er invandigt mig. Tack."
"Shh, okej." You can feel the blood pounding in every part of your body. Slowly, so slowly; you can't decide if it hurts or feels good, suspect that perhaps it's a bit of both. Markus is panting quickly, his soft blond hair damp with sweat; one perfect curl is plastered to his forehead, and you push it tenderly from his face, kissing the newly revealed skin. His hand reaches blindly for yours and curls around it, your fingers lacing together as you begin to move, hesitantly, unsure of the way. Again, your bodies take over: they show you what you want, how to move, how fast to go. It is burning heat and color and sweetness, a pleasure so sharp you feel you might break. And then that you /must/ break, because you can't go on like this, nothing can feel this good, there must be an end, but the pleasure only builds, until you're dizzy with it, drawn taut and close to tears, and oh god, this is going to kill you...
Markus gasps and comes beneath you, his body stiffening and tightening around you, then relaxing a moment later to melt bonelessly into the bed. You drive your lips onto his and abandon any control you might have had, thrusting into him as hard and fast and deep as you can until that tingling rush climbing your thighs shatters and floods your body with warmth. For a moment you can't hear, can't see, don't even know where you are, and you are all nerves and fire and sweet. Then the fog clears and you are cradled in Markus's arms, and for the first time in a long time, you are at peace.
"Jag alskade dig, Nikki," Markus whispers tenderly, and you return the words, your voice thick with sleep. Neither of you misses the change in tense.
The heat that has raged unsatisfied between you for ten years has died to a gentle warmth. In this moment, both of you understand many things, without a word passing between you. You will make love many more times tonight, but it will only be this night; after that, there will be only friendship between you. Perhaps, if fate and Peter Forsberg had not intervened, your lives would be different; but a single night cannot turn back time. Tonight is not about finding what was lost, it is about resolving the pain and heartbreak that has held both of you back. It is about remembering, and letting go, and going on with the business of living. Markus has a family that he loves, and you...well, you are not sure yet what you have. But you are finally ready to find out.