Title: Curves and Shadows
Summary: Don knows his way in the dark
Notes/Warnings: Read the disclaimer on my LJ
Don knows his way in the dark.
He moves through his apartment, lights off, with the practiced ease of a man trained to sense a presence nearby without conscious effort. He moves in arcs, around this chair, that table... smoothly shedding his jacket and shoes. That dark form in the corner - a coat rack. That shadow by the wall - a briefcase cast aside for the night.
By the time his fingertips brush the cool metal of the bedroom doorknob, he's got his socks off and shirt unbuttoned. He hesitates, trying to turn the handle as quietly as he can.
The door opens noiselessly and he steps into the room, closing it silently behind him. He hears a rustle of bedclothes and freezes. He remains motionless for a moment until he's convinced it's all right to move again.
He walks to the edge of the bed and stares at the sight before him.
A street lamp casts shadows through the blinds, striping his bed in bands of dim light. The pale glow illuminates the curves of a back - head to shoulder, shoulder sliding down to a gentle waist, then the rise of a hip partially hidden by the folds of the sheet covering it.
Breathlessly, his eyes drink in the subtle curves of the sleeping form before him. He imagines how artists during the Renaissance must have felt, painting their nude lovers draped seductively in silken cloths.
He reaches out with a single hand and slowly pulls the sheet towards him. As the fabric pools in front of him, his efforts slowly reveal the sleeping figure's form to his hungry eyes. The sheet slips from a hip first, and he begins to pull with both hands, impatient to uncover the firm round ass hidden beneath. The sheet slides lower, revealing a pair of thighs, then calves, then finally feet as it falls away completely, exposing the body waiting for him in his bed.
Aching now, he longs to reach out and touch, feel, possess, devour... To bury himself inside the warmth that encompasses him, soothes him, reminds him he is part of a whole - complete and fulfilled. But to steal from sleep for such selfish ends would go against his nature, so he simply stares, trying to content himself with thoughts and memories alone.
As if sensing a change, the shape stirs then shifts to lie on his back, face turned unknowingly to the one he seeks, even in sleep.
Laid open to his gaze now, he lets his eyes lovingly travel the body his hands cannot. Drawn as always to the seductive pairing of cherubic curls with such an obviously masculine body, he watches enviously as a hand rubs carelessly though soft chest hair, then follows the hair down with his eyes, feeling the desire well up inside him as he remembers the last time his hands, lips, tongue made that journey.
A soft gasp escapes him, barely more than a puff of air, but it's enough.
Eyes flutter open, lips curve in a sensual smile...
Charlie crawls across the mattress and drags himself up Don's body until he's kneeling on the bed before him, lips seeking out tender spots on Don's neck as his fingertips roam up his bare stomach and chest.
"You're back..." he murmurs, between kisses. "Missed you..."
"Had to leave... Work... I'm sorry."
His hands finally land on the warm bare skin he's been craving, but Charlie pulls away, just out of his reach, leaving him with only a hand tugging on his own.
"Come to bed," he beckons, pulling Don down with him.
Where Charlie goes, Don follows, sinking into bliss, heat, connection, oneness...
Charlie leads him there...
But Don knows the way...