(no subject)
In august, romano used to come over two or times a week, usually after work, smelling like sweat, with a hint of spanish food, and sometimes a bit of cologne. Those nites I wouldn't get to sleep until 2 or 3am. We would stay up talking, drinking wine, watching movies, and of course, having sex most nites. Romano was very comfortable with body, and would always sleep naked, his clothes would be scattered across my bedroom floor, never failing to paint a romantic tableau when I would awake in the early morning hours, reminding me of the passionate, nude man laying behind me as my aram went off.
Back then I had spanish at 8am everyday, and would remember waking up reluctant to leave the sound of romano's breathing next to me, his presence sinking in the cushions of the bed and drawing me towards the warmth of his body in the cool summer mornings, when I would usually leave my windows open to bring in fresh air.
Once I finally pulled myself out of bed, I'd rush to get ready, and then try to mentally warp time in class to pass the 2 hour period as rapidly as possible. Then, I would rush back home, biking faster than my still sleepy body would prefer, in hopes that Romano would still be asleep when I would get home at 10:10. The greatest pleasure of those mornings was to slip into my room, closing the door quietly in the dark, still room, seeing romano's figure still wrapped under blankets, undressing myself, and slipping back into bed with him again. For me, it was like going back to the nite I had woken from, daydreaming next to my lover while he muttered spanish in his sleep. Companionship is such a joy. Memory can feel you with so much warmth and tranquility.
Back then I had spanish at 8am everyday, and would remember waking up reluctant to leave the sound of romano's breathing next to me, his presence sinking in the cushions of the bed and drawing me towards the warmth of his body in the cool summer mornings, when I would usually leave my windows open to bring in fresh air.
Once I finally pulled myself out of bed, I'd rush to get ready, and then try to mentally warp time in class to pass the 2 hour period as rapidly as possible. Then, I would rush back home, biking faster than my still sleepy body would prefer, in hopes that Romano would still be asleep when I would get home at 10:10. The greatest pleasure of those mornings was to slip into my room, closing the door quietly in the dark, still room, seeing romano's figure still wrapped under blankets, undressing myself, and slipping back into bed with him again. For me, it was like going back to the nite I had woken from, daydreaming next to my lover while he muttered spanish in his sleep. Companionship is such a joy. Memory can feel you with so much warmth and tranquility.