Work Text:
It’s amusing, one could suppose, how a bed that is not their own could protect such warmth and sacred life. A small cottage in rural somewhere, the perfect place to find respite, to let the aches seep from their weary bones, and for those present to witness the tourist attractions that were themselves.
The early morning chill was to thank for the blonde man attached to him, skin touching skin at every possible juncture. Dark outside still, the room itself cast in cool hues and shadows abound. Yet a few enduring slivers of light had fought their way through the shuttered blinds, illuminating the bedsheets and a small exposed part of the face of the man in his arms. A smile graced Apollo’s lips at the sight he had to behold, how blessed he was. As if sensing his rousing, a mote of dust begins to dance in the rays of light, and he allows his eyes to unfocus. For him to sit in the gentle quiet, to fill his lungs with air and to exist in contentment- at least for this very moment.
What a beautiful thing life was. To be here. To be sharing it with the man in his arms. To love the golden tresses tangled at the juncture of pillow and flesh, the multitude of colours in his complexion, the scars that decorated his skin, and the warmth that ran through his body. He had no choice but perceive beauty in its most aggressive and unyielding form: the beauty of a person who loves deeply, and understands love, and understands him.
With a small shuffle, in the depth of sleep, Klavier turns to press his face into Apollo’s neck, a smile pressed against his skin. His heart thumps to the memory of feeling of lips, a smile wrapped around him, being devoured by grace and divinity. Feeling from the inside.
His heart could sing a litany of praises, of joy and of ease. Of home. All anybody ever wanted was to be human, and here they are, skin to skin, chest to chest, alive and so very human. There are other times for roaming hands, and right now those hands hold the man in this bed with such care and reverence, as if he himself was the benefactor of the gift of life and the origin of love.
Fingertips trace a spine, breathing is settled, and life continues for yet another minute - filled with worship and reverence.