He stares down at the man on the bed, caught in the hard, white glare of the street
lamp outside the window. If he could distill his life, down to the barest essence of it, this
is what it would look like. A chiaroscuro of dark and light, of perfect cheekbones carved
of pale ivory from onyx shadows, of mouth and eyes deep wells of soft, inviting midnight.
As he slides home, the shadows shift with him, sharp-edged against the gleaming skin,
and he watches them splinter against desperation and aching need.
He keeps his eyes open when he comes; he sees his life shatter - and rebuild itself in
shades of black and white. Perfection.
~~~~~
He chuckles softly at a stray thought, and Elijah mumbles sleepily against his shoulder.
"Share the joke, Irish."
"Just remembering something John Barrymore said."
"Who?"
"Elijah..."
"Okay, okay - so, what did he say?"
"Let me think. Um...it was about one of his wives - I can't remember who; he had this
tempestuous relationship with her, and one night, he was roaring drunk, and Errol Flynn
- you know who he was, don't you?
"Sean!" He feels sharp teeth nip at his shoulder and then soft lips kissing away the
sting. "I'll be good, all right? Go on."
"Humph," Sean snorts skeptically. "Well, Flynn liked to needle John, so he asked him
what he saw in her. And Barrymore retorted, 'It's like this - you put it in, and it goes right
through the main saloon and into the galley, and then the cabin boy comes down a
ladder and rings a bell... In other words, you stupid bastard, IT FITS.'
The naked body curled against his side quivers with suppressed laughter.
"God, he was larger than life, wasn't he?" Elijah chuckles. "I like that."
"Yeah." Sean winnows his fingers gently through the soft hair, and falls silent.
"Sean?"
"Hmm?"
"Mine stopped at the bar and grabbed a drink."
Sean's breath escapes in a snort of surprised laughter.
"And shagged the cabin boy on its way back."
That calls for a breathless tickling match that Sean wins handily. He grins down at his
panting partner and swoops down for a long, wet kiss.
"I love you, you imp."
"Mmmm... Love you too, Seanie. Lucky us, huh?"
"Lucky us, yeah." Sean feels the feathery touch of long lashes ghost across his skin, and
he tightens his arms around his life.
And they are smiling as they fall asleep.
The End
lamp outside the window. If he could distill his life, down to the barest essence of it, this
is what it would look like. A chiaroscuro of dark and light, of perfect cheekbones carved
of pale ivory from onyx shadows, of mouth and eyes deep wells of soft, inviting midnight.
As he slides home, the shadows shift with him, sharp-edged against the gleaming skin,
and he watches them splinter against desperation and aching need.
He keeps his eyes open when he comes; he sees his life shatter - and rebuild itself in
shades of black and white. Perfection.
~~~~~
He chuckles softly at a stray thought, and Elijah mumbles sleepily against his shoulder.
"Share the joke, Irish."
"Just remembering something John Barrymore said."
"Who?"
"Elijah..."
"Okay, okay - so, what did he say?"
"Let me think. Um...it was about one of his wives - I can't remember who; he had this
tempestuous relationship with her, and one night, he was roaring drunk, and Errol Flynn
- you know who he was, don't you?
"Sean!" He feels sharp teeth nip at his shoulder and then soft lips kissing away the
sting. "I'll be good, all right? Go on."
"Humph," Sean snorts skeptically. "Well, Flynn liked to needle John, so he asked him
what he saw in her. And Barrymore retorted, 'It's like this - you put it in, and it goes right
through the main saloon and into the galley, and then the cabin boy comes down a
ladder and rings a bell... In other words, you stupid bastard, IT FITS.'
The naked body curled against his side quivers with suppressed laughter.
"God, he was larger than life, wasn't he?" Elijah chuckles. "I like that."
"Yeah." Sean winnows his fingers gently through the soft hair, and falls silent.
"Sean?"
"Hmm?"
"Mine stopped at the bar and grabbed a drink."
Sean's breath escapes in a snort of surprised laughter.
"And shagged the cabin boy on its way back."
That calls for a breathless tickling match that Sean wins handily. He grins down at his
panting partner and swoops down for a long, wet kiss.
"I love you, you imp."
"Mmmm... Love you too, Seanie. Lucky us, huh?"
"Lucky us, yeah." Sean feels the feathery touch of long lashes ghost across his skin, and
he tightens his arms around his life.
And they are smiling as they fall asleep.
The End
| The Perfect Fit |