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Post by Erik Destler on Jul 1, 2008 19:01:18 GMT -5
"It's fine, my dear. Quite well, please don't concern yourself."
The composer gave a chuckle and leaned up, bracing himself on his elbow so that he could look down at the tenor. The new eyes were full of hunger and he brought his hand up to cup the young man's face, letting fingers explore the curve of his jaw and the strong expanse of his neck before the returned to Carlos' cheek and then grazed lightly across his full, lower lip.
"Such beauty."
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Post by Carlos Castro on Jul 2, 2008 10:32:54 GMT -5
Carlos' lashes fluttered as he looked down demurely, his lips parting to gently surround Destler's finger.
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Post by Erik Destler on Jul 2, 2008 10:38:13 GMT -5
The older man smirked a bit, but removed his hand to lie back again.
"You tempt me, my dear." he chuckled.
"Go and make yourself comfortable."
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Post by Carlos Castro on Jul 2, 2008 11:40:46 GMT -5
"Good," he said, with a secret smile as he rose and went to the bathroom to don his silk pajamas. "I would hate to think otherwise."
When he returned, he slid into bed next to Destler, wondering that any of this was real. He wouldn't have believed it mere months ago.
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Post by Erik Destler on Jul 2, 2008 18:26:05 GMT -5
Destler pulled the tenor close and happily pushed a hand through his hair, then gave a teasing chuckle.
"Too much pomade, Christopher!"
He settled in, already his limbs were shaking with exhaustion, and this made him frown a bit, though he said nothing.
"Tomorrow to my house, after your performance."
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Post by Carlos Castro on Jul 3, 2008 20:23:39 GMT -5
Carlos put an arm around Destler, cradling him.
"Being this attractive has its costs," he pointed out. He pulled the duvet more firmly over them. "Yes. I'm quite curious to see this house of yours. Sleep now, maestro."
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Post by Erik Destler on Jul 4, 2008 5:54:14 GMT -5
He grunted an affirmative and gave in to his exhaustion.
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Post by Carlos Castro on Jul 5, 2008 10:29:38 GMT -5
Carlos followed soon after, though not before wondering again at the new face, lines smoothed in sleep. His arm curled protectively around his lover, he slept.
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Post by Erik Destler on Jul 6, 2008 5:41:05 GMT -5
Destler was up quite early; only the faintest hint of the first washed-out light of morning was brightening the shades of the window. A few scant hours of rest had proven beneficial, and the composer now sat at the small desk provided in the room with a ream of fresh line paper, furiously scribbling notes and notations alike in his spidery scrawl (He had been pleased and curious that his handwriting had not changed with his hand).
Apart from the comfort of loosing himself in his music, he had been thinking perhaps too much on the subject of aging when his sharp eyes, upon waking, had caught just the slightest touch of grey behind Christopher's left ear. His love was mortal and would age and die, this he knew, but his wonder came of his own mortality.
Destler had, perhaps foolishly, tested himself with a penknife he found in the pocket of his newly acquired jacket, racking the blade mercilessly across the top of his forearm. The pain was tremendous, of course, and there had been blood (over the sink in the bathroom, he wasn't entirely foolish) but after a few minutes the wound, at the considerable effort of his will, had sealed itself up enough so as to be barely noticeable.
The entire situation troubled him, and he had gone out to procure the specialty from his own home, tempted to simply remain there for the day, he had been so long out of it. But in the end he was drawn back to Christopher's side and there he sat, composing something, though he was unsure what.
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Post by Carlos Castro on Jul 6, 2008 10:45:31 GMT -5
Carlos came awake gradually, mildly dissatisfied with the empty space beside him though he couldn't, for the moment, think why. He'd slept heavily, as if after a great trial, and as it came back to him he rubbed his eyes and sat up, suddenly recalling why there should be someone next to him and worried something had happened.
"Maestro!"
There he was, at the desk, looking whole and healthy and slightly, Carlos observed, Destler-like despite the new face. Carlos' own was split with a sleepy grin, his hair spiky and tousled from the combination of pomade and pillow.
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Post by Erik Destler on Jul 6, 2008 12:44:00 GMT -5
Destler gave a chuckle at his love's explaination and peeked over his shoulder, offering an answering grin.
"Good morning, my love. Did you sleep well? Are you hungry?"
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Post by Carlos Castro on Jul 6, 2008 18:52:17 GMT -5
"I was half afraid I'd wake and find you gone. Never having been here," he said. "I think I missed dinner last night."
His tone was incredulous.
"Did you sleep? Well, I mean?"
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Post by Erik Destler on Jul 6, 2008 18:58:21 GMT -5
"I've had all the rest I need."
He turned back around to finish at scribbling something a stood from the desk, grabbing the little parcel paper bag next to him and producing from it a small glazed cake.
"There you are." he grinned, holding it out. "They were just out of the oven when I passed by, the shop wasn't actually open, but it turns out the baker's daughter found this face quite charming enough to see her way to letting me have a couple of the mishapen goods at a reduced price. There's more if you like, and we can have a proper meal later."
The composer came closer, still offering out the little treat, and reached down with his free hand to help pull Carlos out of bed, leaning down at the same time to plan an appreciative little kiss to his forehead.
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Post by Carlos Castro on Jul 6, 2008 19:08:02 GMT -5
((Here kitty! I have a treat for you!))
Carlos smiled his thanks, for he was quite hungry, and accepted the cake. But first he accepted Erik's kiss, as it sent a little thrill through him that was completely absurd, considering the things he'd done in his short life.
"You're very thoughtful," he said softly. "Thank you. Aren't you hungry?"
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Post by Erik Destler on Jul 6, 2008 19:28:45 GMT -5
"Not at the moment, no. I've been working--I find I'm never able to eat when in such a fury."
He grinned and curled his arms around the hefty tenor.
"Now then, what absolutely must be done today before we can go below?"
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