May. 28th, 2004

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Russell yawned as he stretched lazily, and snuggled up behind Beregond, still dead to the world. His eyes opened a little, and the first thing he saw was the angry bruise on his lover's neck. With a sharp intake of breath, the previous night's events came flooding back.

Beregond's skin still smelt of lavender from Russell's massage, and he knew despite that, he would still ache when he woke. He ran his hand down Beregond's arm, coming to rest on his hand lying curled on the pillow in front of his face. Russell's fingers lingered on the ring of bruising around the wrist. But it was fascination he felt as he touched the damaged skin, not revulsion at what he had caused to happen.

Suddenly wide awake, his mind racing, he kissed Beregond's shoulder softly, before getting up, and heading down to the diner to pick them up some breakfast. Or was that lunch? He had no idea what time it was.

Half an hour later, he set mugs of coffee and a pile of pastries down on the bedside table, He pulled the quilt away from Beregond's back, and kissed his neck, working his way slowly down, wondering what it would take to wake him.

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almost_russell

September 2004

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