Dancing Beneath the Moon
[500 Themes: 423]
Sometimes two people need to step apart
and make a space between
that each might see the other anew,
in a glance across a room
or silhouetted against the moon.
Kotetsu is usually the first to rise from their bed after sex, and tonight is no exception. Barnaby, still nothing but tingling, trembling limbs, rolls to the side to watch – at least, watch as well as he can with the dark of his bedroom, with the blur of his vision without corrective lenses, with only the sparkle of constellations and moon beyond shining through a single, wide window.
The older man slips from the bed with a stretch, every muscle a long, sculpted line of sinew that Barnaby can remember, all too well, exactly how powerful. He can also remember, fondly and somewhat dazedly, how gentle Kotetsu can be – how very loving.
"Don't leave." Barnaby's voice is sleepy, distant, and he reaches out, pawing for the edge of the bed with long fingers in an attempt to grasp for Kotetsu's bare wrist. He misses by a mile, doesn't care, hopes Kotetsu will return all the same.
Kotetsu does, because Kotetsu will never leave him.
"I was just going to go get a drink, Bunny…"
"In a minute." Barnaby is fastened to him in that moment, curled into his chest as soon as Kotetsu hits the bed once more. His lips press to the hollow of his lover's throat and he simply breathes, inhaling all that is Kotetsu, warmth and spice and soap and musk. "Just a minute." You feel too good for me to let you leave.
Kotetsu doesn't protest (he never protests), and whatever drink meant to be retrieved is a far-forgotten thing as Barnaby curls himself closer, tangling their bodies together, a for-once peaceful sleep not far from reach.