Just For You
Just For You
He pressed a kiss to the long white line on his chest, let his fingers trail over the edges and then down past it to the next. These were his. This skin, this flesh, he’d marked it, made it his own. He’d tended each wound with his tongue and teeth, sucking his life’s blood into his own, making them whole and one. He’d kissed it better, used gentle hands to caress and bandage, to care for it until it was healed, just a long thin line on Clay’s chest to show what had happened.
No one else would ever see his lover’s scar and know what it meant.
Tom looked up at Clay, his lover’s eyes dark and amused as he let Tom touch him. There was nothing demanding between them tonight, no bloody passion that needed to work it’s way through them. It was just adoration and warmth when he looked at Clay, when he remembered how trusting he’d been with his body, how open he’d been with his life. How he’d taken Tom into him without hesitation, no matter how fucked up the rest of the world might think he was. How messed up the rest of the world might think they both were.
He didn’t know if they were right or not. Nothing made sense from before, but now there was Clay and that made sense. Everything about their life together was right. When Clay reached out, his hand closing around Tom’s neck and pulling him closer, he took it for the permission it was.
Tom pulled the thin towel away from Clay’s hips and let it fall to the floor at his feet. They had friends coming over soon, Clay’s sister and some others and they’d been cleaning house all day to get ready for it. Clay, fresh from the shower though, his white scar calling out to Tom, it wasn’t something he could resist.
He pressed Clay back onto the bed and his lover went willingly, letting out a small laugh as he reached up to grab a pillow under his head. This wasn’t about sex and they both knew it. Clay watching him with reverent eyes and he knew that when he looked up, his own eyes reflected the same worship.
Tom pressed a kiss into Clay’s lips and then worked his way lower again, biting at the throat he’d held in his grip not long ago, forcing the breath from him. He kissed over Clay’s shoulders where he’d strained muscles before, holding his arms back, pushing him so damn hard until Clay broke so beautifully for him. He came back to Clay’s stomach and licked and kissed until he was back up to the scar again. He pressed kissed over his wound, over his chest to where his heart beat strong and steady under his head. He set it there, just listening to his lover’s heart beating.
“Just for you,” Clay whispered the words as his long fingers stroked over the back of Tom’s neck .
He looked up, leaving his chin resting over his heart. He brought his hand up to gently cup Clay’s face. Clay turned into it, his lips pressing to the small white line that covered his skin there, another claiming, a night of love and understanding between them where he’d given himself to Clay as much as Clay had already given himself to Tom.
Tom smiled as they both worshiped their mark of possession. He lowered his head again, his words whispered against Clay’s chest. “Just for you.”
He pressed a kiss to the long white line on his chest, let his fingers trail over the edges and then down past it to the next. These were his. This skin, this flesh, he’d marked it, made it his own. He’d tended each wound with his tongue and teeth, sucking his life’s blood into his own, making them whole and one. He’d kissed it better, used gentle hands to caress and bandage, to care for it until it was healed, just a long thin line on Clay’s chest to show what had happened.
No one else would ever see his lover’s scar and know what it meant.
Tom looked up at Clay, his lover’s eyes dark and amused as he let Tom touch him. There was nothing demanding between them tonight, no bloody passion that needed to work it’s way through them. It was just adoration and warmth when he looked at Clay, when he remembered how trusting he’d been with his body, how open he’d been with his life. How he’d taken Tom into him without hesitation, no matter how fucked up the rest of the world might think he was. How messed up the rest of the world might think they both were.
He didn’t know if they were right or not. Nothing made sense from before, but now there was Clay and that made sense. Everything about their life together was right. When Clay reached out, his hand closing around Tom’s neck and pulling him closer, he took it for the permission it was.
Tom pulled the thin towel away from Clay’s hips and let it fall to the floor at his feet. They had friends coming over soon, Clay’s sister and some others and they’d been cleaning house all day to get ready for it. Clay, fresh from the shower though, his white scar calling out to Tom, it wasn’t something he could resist.
He pressed Clay back onto the bed and his lover went willingly, letting out a small laugh as he reached up to grab a pillow under his head. This wasn’t about sex and they both knew it. Clay watching him with reverent eyes and he knew that when he looked up, his own eyes reflected the same worship.
Tom pressed a kiss into Clay’s lips and then worked his way lower again, biting at the throat he’d held in his grip not long ago, forcing the breath from him. He kissed over Clay’s shoulders where he’d strained muscles before, holding his arms back, pushing him so damn hard until Clay broke so beautifully for him. He came back to Clay’s stomach and licked and kissed until he was back up to the scar again. He pressed kissed over his wound, over his chest to where his heart beat strong and steady under his head. He set it there, just listening to his lover’s heart beating.
“Just for you,” Clay whispered the words as his long fingers stroked over the back of Tom’s neck .
He looked up, leaving his chin resting over his heart. He brought his hand up to gently cup Clay’s face. Clay turned into it, his lips pressing to the small white line that covered his skin there, another claiming, a night of love and understanding between them where he’d given himself to Clay as much as Clay had already given himself to Tom.
Tom smiled as they both worshiped their mark of possession. He lowered his head again, his words whispered against Clay’s chest. “Just for you.”