Dylan's gaze is drawn to that grin, and as Marco moved closer the sight of those smiling lips work it's usual magic on him.
And that look; the one that says 'MINE' burning in Marco's eyes takes hold of him again.
Those lovely deep dark chocolate eyes glow with heat and demand.
With a prayer that is no more than a wordless, lightening flash of feeling, but one that has his whole heart and all the hope he has for a future with the man before him tied up in it Marco keeps walking forward, trying to keep his anxious thoughts off his face now.
Seeing Dylan's body relax a little as his gaze remains locked on his face, on his mouth; knowing where Dylan staring at his lips usually leads, pushes most of his worry into the back of his mind...for now.
Dylan doesn't seem to be freezing or getting bogged down in guilt or the usual 'stuff' a really bad one of these dreams leaves behind.
Marco liks his lips, feeling heat and joy flash through him as Dylan's lips part and his eyes flash up to lock onto his again.
That 'MINE' look is back in Dylan's eyes now too...in the smirk growing on his face.
Loving it, feeling love for this wild, unpredictable, too adorable(when he wants to be) man-boy....who want's to ...!!!...Marco floated the last few steps and into his...FIANCE's arms!
It was only when he reached up to slip his fingers into Dylan's hair that he realized he had something in his hand.
With a flick of his wrist he launched it into a corner.
The movement caught Dylan's eye.
The shock was like stepping from a hot steam bath to a cold shower!
Dylan recognized the piece of dark purple silk instantly.
Oh yeah, big-time freeze!
Fear and guilt were filling the eyes that turned back to Marco's', the lips about to meet his trembled as a word tried to form there.
'No!' Marco thought, 'Not this time!'
"Mmmph!" was all Dylan managed as Marco's lips claimed his.
The words, whatever they'd been were wiped away completely as marco's tongue and lips moved on his.
The heat of the fingers that slipped into his curls, joined with the heat of those lips,as Marco used that grip on his hair to hold him in place.
Marco's lips moved slowly, expertly over his face; causing Dylan's eyelids to flutter, helpless groans to rumble up from his suddenly heaving chest as he sucked in air....tried to...
Marco was still gripping his hair, pulling his head back as his lips slipped towards the so sensative weak spot that was his lovers neck.
"Oh God...! Marco...!" was all he could manage as his lover's teeth scraped gently, then began nipping at the tender flesh of his nech and collar-bone.
Dylan feels ready to burst into flame, his grip on Marco now bruisingly tight.
"Mio, mio sempre..!" Marco breathes against the hot flushed skin of Dylan's throat.
Marco had put on one of Dylan's old hockey shirts to answer the door in, the big blonde's fingers are locked in the fabric of it now; chest heaving, eyelids fluttering... "Yeah...oh God Marco...!" all he can manage as he melts into this sweet mind-bending attack.
He could never walk away from this... never say no to this boy...not while his hands and lips are touching him...
He can't even say stop!
Each kiss...each sharp/sweet bite, draws a helpless moan from... everyplace inside him.
MARCO...the spicy-sweetness on his lips, filling his lungs...his/the world...
Point made, Marco's fingers ease their grip on Dylan's hair; long sweet experience lets them slip in among the wildly tangled curls painlessly, massaging away the sting.
"'This' or 'That'"
Dylan's eyes opened, stared sightlessly at nothing...he heard/felt those words as plainly as if they'd been spoken into his ear...or more like from inside him.
Mr.,Miss. Mr.and Mrs...or if some of them are right-Mr./Ms. Fearless Elation-'I'(LOVE) 'AM ALL YOU NEED' is back.
Just three words...but he gets it...
All of it.
What had Marco said....'Not a religion...,more like a relationship.'
Yeah...um...(he wonders if it should maybe be 'yes sir.' and would almost swear he hears laughter) o.k.!
The 'this' is the way he just felt; so completely possessed.
But so totally free.
And the way he feels now; like how holding Marco close like this is....is almost better than sex!
The 'that' is the anger and fear, the guilt that he knows now was never his in the first place.
His arm tightens round Marco, who is now sitting on his lap, his head resting against Dylan's chest.
"Take away their ammo...Tell him..."
Nothing like when He?She? .....?...his new ...Friend(?) told him what to Do with Marco.
This is such a gentle suggestion...
Like...'whoever' realizes fully just what a monumentally large thing this will/would be.
Even with the unspoken 'I'm with you',(and more than holding your hand) thinking about this causes Dylan to shiver a little.
There were other things about this message too.
The feeling of (possible) freedom from ....well some of the things he and Fr.'Mo had talked about was implied in the first part of this.
But the 'Tell him' part...That had felt (though gentle) a whole lot like ...well..."Shit or get off the pot son!"...!?!
'He's a little...well, sometimes a lot ...different from what all that 'religious' stuff can lead you to expect' Marco had said.
(continued THIS Friday)k.