[ touch ]
“I don´t love you."
“You think I care?’
Hands in the hair, teeth on the neck, tongue licking up in that slow agonizing-but-so-good way.
“This is not lovemaking, this is sex.’
“Shall I repeat myself?’
Nails digging into the Mariachi´s ass, artistic fingers tracing the CIA Agent´s face, hot breath tickling ears.
“I don´t know why you do this to me.’
“And I just don´t give a shit about the why.’
Fingers wrapping around hair, pulling hard and tight as lips and teeth descend on a collarbone. A hissed moan of approval.
“We have to stop doing this. It´s not sane.’
“That´s the difference, El, I´ve NEVER been sane.’
Buttons being undone, some ripping off. Shirts being discarded into a pile and on top of the guitar lying in the corner.
“I don´t even like you, Sheld--’
“It´s Sands, damnit, now shut the fuck up.’
Feet tripping over each other as they stumble across the room, one man laughing at the other man´s grunt of surprise when they fall onto the bed.
“Your skin feels like silk.’
“I want you inside of me.’
Breath catching as teeth graze over a bronzed chest, a smile curving into the toned muscles. Fingers gliding down a milky white back to a perfectly rounded ass.
“Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?’
“Don´t say things like that, just fuck me.’
Moans echoing, twin rasps of breath sounding into the quiet pitch black of the night. Hands that never stop moving; over faces, over chests, over thighs.
“Tu es tan hermoso.’
“I still know what you´re saying asshole.’
Slick skin sliding together as they cry out each other´s names, nonsensical mumblings bleeding together. Stuttered curses as they increase their tempo.
“I can´t hold on much longer.’
“Don´t, harder… harder.’
Tempo increasing, groans growing louder. Black hair cascading over the slighter man´s features as a forehead leans on his own. Nails digging as they both cry out.
“Why do you not let me call you beautiful?’
“Because I´m not a woman, and because it´s too much of a reminder.’
Fingers brushing back the blind man´s hair, tracing gently down his angular face. Lips gently pressed to his temple as the other man settles beside him.
“A reminder of what?’
“Of the fact that I can´t see how beautiful you are anymore.’
Hand pausing on its stroke down the man´s chest, a hitched breath of surprise. A hiss of annoyance piercing the tranquility that had settled.
“I am sorry, I hadn´t thought.’
“No, well… why would you have?’
Hair falling across the younger man´s face as the Mariachi rests his cheek on his shoulder. A hand spreading over his chest, thumb brushing lightly over his still sticky skin.
“Why didn´t you tell me that was why?’
“Because I didn´t want the pity.’
Silence falling over them as the Mexican realizes he has nothing to say that won´t come out as the last thing the other man wants to hear.
Sheets being pulled over their bodies as they settle in for the night.
Snores won´t come till much later. Words won´t come either.
They sleep on their own sides and Sands will be gone by the time El comes out of the bathroom in the morning.
And then it´ll all happen again two days from now.
[ previous page ]
|