Fic: EdxAlfons, "Stage Lights"
Always watching them. Always near them. Eyes always on them, the puppets in the middle of center stage, bathed in the stage lights that would always hover above. Ever-dancing for the patrons seen and unseen, where ideas flew in the air and great minds stared and swooned…
“Ah, what great minds they have!” one might say, staring upon the two golden ones with something akin to awe…maybe even envy or lust or need. It was hard to say.
They were just more eyes, everywhere eyes…
Stage lights illuminating an unwilling audience, wanting to escape to places unseen.
…Like now.
The taller one hissed, even when the shorter one threw him a golden glare, hand going in the depths of cloth and touching hard flesh, body weight keeping lithe forms under the shadows, under the darkness.
Away from the expectations of the stage, away from the lights that nearly blinded them…the applause they didn’t want or need…
Words were hardly exchanged. Only grunts, even as fingers roamed, clothes fell off and it was just two men, staring at each other in the light of the dark. Locked door, boxes pressing into their backs, coats brushing against their skin, but who really cared when their sweat was pouring and their hearts pumping this much?
This was what they lived for.
This exhilaration.
When the Golden-eyed one touched, the blue-eyed one gasped, shuddering and shivering and writhing under him. It was a beg for help, a need. While one begged, the other demanded more more more; a choreographed dance, something that they knew so well but needed it the more they did it. You get better with practice but with practice comes finesse, and with finesse comes the desire and the confidence to do it more and more and more.
The ones outside were unawares…stage lights wandering in the dark, searching for a stage to illuminate, to bring out of the darkness.
The door was closed, and the world shut out.
This stage would stay in the darkness, keep the door shut. This stage would enjoy its private burlesque show, as skin became slick and pleasure mounted, a bowstring taut, trembling, ready to snap at any moment.
“Alfons…” the Golden one’s words were silent, though spoken in touches, as the blue-eyed one called out to his golden lover, crooning with a closed mouth and shut eyes…feeling rather than seeing.
The darkness could cover them…devour them whole in this simple coat closet.
Their own little paradise.
The stage lights would search, would run along looking for its target…
While its stage hid in the covers of blackness, allowing its own show to play.
Let the rest of the world go to Hell.