(no subject)
Boredom. It does things to you.
Written as a story-journal entry of sorts...rather than just write about how I felt, I wrote a short story about it. A very metaphorical one, of course, seeing as I'm not a gay man...yeah. >__> Made me feel better, anyway. xD
Long, calloused fingers explore skin, trailing over soft edges and shadows. The light from the lamp, turned low, is just enough for a slight orange glow over both of the naked forms, curled together, relaxed from their activities of just a few minutes before.
Grey eyes swing up the partner's body, admiring it with almost none of the frenzied lust from before - now is the time for quiet gazing, gentle touching.
White and jagged, varying in size, stripes line up the larger partner's thigh. Leaning closer, the shorter one can see they are faded with their age, the skin given only a faint sheen where once it would have been home to divots and scabs.
The scarred one shifts, uncomfortable in front of his new lover for the first time that night. He's always been more emotional, more open, but now he's worried of what the other's thinking, down there staring at the marks he's gotten so good at ignoring himself.
"E-Egil..." Silver amidst gold, the named one's eyes slide up to stare out between locks of hair. Luckily, he knows what's wrong with the older one, who currently seems to be at a slight loss of words.
"It's fine..." Egil shakes his head, and places one hand in the curve of the other's hip. "When was the last time, Dmitri?" Curiosity, of course, wins out, though he uses his hand to draw the other's body closer to him.
Dmitri sighs, leans into the space between Egil's head and the pillow, and Egil shuffles forward until their stomachs are touching. "Years." Broad shoulders shrug against the smaller body. "I've had some shitty relationships." A short laugh. "But hasn't everyone, then?" Wiry arms tighten around his back, the hands splayed across it as if in an attempt to cover as much of him as possible.
"Yeah, I guess so." If it helps his lover, he'll play it off as well; the unspoken promise now mutual.
Bleached hair enters Egil's field of vision as the older one's head bends down, level with his neck now. Kissing his neck, now, marking a trail down one of his clearly-defined tendons. If it wasn't such a tender moment, he'd probably be teasing Dmitri about his roots coming in, but now he simply relaxes, enjoying the closeness.
A pale hand reaches over to the nightstand, flipping a switch, and then the only glow in the room is moonlight from the window.