Thank God For the Moon
Rating: T/M
Length: 907 words
Pairing: Roger/Mark
Summary: After coming back to the loft, Roger found a surprise waiting for him. What will he do?
Sequel to Light My Candle
Roger brought their lips together; bringing one hand up to gently cup Mark’s face, while the other glided over his exposed hips, supporting himself against the mattress. He leaned forward, deepening the kiss, using his body to press Mark down against the red fabric as he entered the sanctity of the circle of light. Mark gasped, dropping his candle as he surrendered himself completely to the musician, hands gripping the waistband of his jeans.
Roger moved slowly, drinking in every moment of his own, personal, miracle, savoring the feel of Mark’s lips against his, smiling at the taste of fresh strawberries. His hands roamed freely, the sensation of Mark’s bare chest pressed up against him driving him on, as he crept onto the mattress, straddling the younger man’s slim body.
He pulled back from the kiss, watching a smile creep across the drowsy face below him. Bright blue eyes looked nervously up at him.
“I hope you like the thing with the candles; it just kind of came to me…” Mark smiled sheepishly.
Roger smiled, hand coming up again to rest on Mark’s cheek. His eyes traced the pale body, covered only by a thin sheet of fabric, a shield so easily torn away.
“It’s amazing, what I’ve wanted for a while now.” What he didn’t say was: “It just… reminds me of Mimi. She asked me to light her candle the first night we met.” He had loved Mimi, he still did, but he knew that if he mentioned her tonight Mark would panic.
“Really?” A small flicker of hope, surrounded by doubt appeared.
“Of course, I’m done running from you, I promise. As long as you don’t hide from me.” Roger half-smiled, remembering the harsh words they had exchanged the night he’d left for Santa Fe.
“I’ll try… but Rog-” A single finger was pressed to his lips.
“Shh, don’t. Let’s just enjoy the moment; it’s hard to focus with you looking like that.”
Grinning wolfishly, Roger took Mark’s hands, slowly pulling them up, and Mark with them, from their resting place on his thighs.
“Don’t let me go too fast.” He whispered, dragging them gently up his legs, to his waist, and then finally down the curve of his own ass. He gave Mark’s hands a gentle squeeze, body thrilling at the sensation, before he moved his own upwards, slowly working the buttons of his shirt.
“I want you to enjoy this.” A seductive whisper as he loosed his shirt, pulling Mark up for another passionate kiss. Candlelight glinted off their bodies as their lips met, the sweet smell of lilacs filling the air. His back arched as Mark’s hands squeezed tightly, pulling him in deeper as Roger poured his soul into the kiss, that fiery moment of love and heat. A hand glided up, flowing across the smooth skin of his back and waist, effortlessly erasing the past few months of panic, and fear with warm and gentle reassurance.
Roger moaned as Mark’s lips left his, gentle kisses leaving a trail across his jaw line, pausing behind his ear, before working their way down his neck.
“I love you.” Soft breath whispered against his skin. “Ever since… I saw you…” Roger’s hips bucked as Mark gently sucked his collarbone, the sensation driving him wild. Hands slid down his stomach, ghosting their way to the zipper of his worn jeans. Shifting his weight, he carefully slid out of his pants, not daring to let go, lest his dream fade away with the morning mist.
He leaned forward again, embracing Mark and recapturing his lips as he pressed him down into the sheets. Turning his head, he kissed the curve of Mark’s pale neck, each touch a declaration of love.
One hand slid suggestively down Mark’s side, and gently parted his legs, making a place for Roger to lie. Idly, he trailed a finger up the film maker’s body, playing with the fair hair he found there, and kissing the nape of Mark’s neck.
“Roger, I…” Mark gasped, body shifting against him.
“A-are you sure?”
Mark snorted, “Yes, I’m sure. I’ve wanted this, you, for longer than I can remember.”
“Alright. Condoms? We…need to be careful. I won’t risk-”
“Fuck!” Mark’s eyes snapped open in panic as Roger, startled, jumped back. “Fuck! The one thing I forget and it’s the most important thing!” He turned, rifling hurriedly under the mattress. “Oh thank God, there’s one left.” Smiling broadly, he pulled out a thin silver packet labeled ‘Silver Moon’ and passed it to Roger.
“Ok Mark, we’re going to go slow. Tell me if you want me to stop, I don’t want to hurt you.” The musician leaned forward, pressing another long kiss against Mark’s lips.
Hours later, the candles had all burned themselves out, and Roger and Mark lay sleeping, cuddled together under the silken sheets. Sighing contentedly, Roger opened his eyes, taking in the room with wonder as he slowly sat up.
Bright moonlight filled the room, casting long shadows against the walls. A glint on the floor marked the hastily discarded condom wrapper, a point of bright light in a sea of silver.
Is this how Mark feels all the time or am I just too damn tired?
He looked down at Mark, cuddled against him, and ran his hands through the short blond hair. “Thank God for the moon.” He mumbled, cuddling up against the film maker and falling back to sleep.
Length: 907 words
Pairing: Roger/Mark
Summary: After coming back to the loft, Roger found a surprise waiting for him. What will he do?
Sequel to Light My Candle
Roger brought their lips together; bringing one hand up to gently cup Mark’s face, while the other glided over his exposed hips, supporting himself against the mattress. He leaned forward, deepening the kiss, using his body to press Mark down against the red fabric as he entered the sanctity of the circle of light. Mark gasped, dropping his candle as he surrendered himself completely to the musician, hands gripping the waistband of his jeans.
Roger moved slowly, drinking in every moment of his own, personal, miracle, savoring the feel of Mark’s lips against his, smiling at the taste of fresh strawberries. His hands roamed freely, the sensation of Mark’s bare chest pressed up against him driving him on, as he crept onto the mattress, straddling the younger man’s slim body.
He pulled back from the kiss, watching a smile creep across the drowsy face below him. Bright blue eyes looked nervously up at him.
“I hope you like the thing with the candles; it just kind of came to me…” Mark smiled sheepishly.
Roger smiled, hand coming up again to rest on Mark’s cheek. His eyes traced the pale body, covered only by a thin sheet of fabric, a shield so easily torn away.
“It’s amazing, what I’ve wanted for a while now.” What he didn’t say was: “It just… reminds me of Mimi. She asked me to light her candle the first night we met.” He had loved Mimi, he still did, but he knew that if he mentioned her tonight Mark would panic.
“Really?” A small flicker of hope, surrounded by doubt appeared.
“Of course, I’m done running from you, I promise. As long as you don’t hide from me.” Roger half-smiled, remembering the harsh words they had exchanged the night he’d left for Santa Fe.
“I’ll try… but Rog-” A single finger was pressed to his lips.
“Shh, don’t. Let’s just enjoy the moment; it’s hard to focus with you looking like that.”
Grinning wolfishly, Roger took Mark’s hands, slowly pulling them up, and Mark with them, from their resting place on his thighs.
“Don’t let me go too fast.” He whispered, dragging them gently up his legs, to his waist, and then finally down the curve of his own ass. He gave Mark’s hands a gentle squeeze, body thrilling at the sensation, before he moved his own upwards, slowly working the buttons of his shirt.
“I want you to enjoy this.” A seductive whisper as he loosed his shirt, pulling Mark up for another passionate kiss. Candlelight glinted off their bodies as their lips met, the sweet smell of lilacs filling the air. His back arched as Mark’s hands squeezed tightly, pulling him in deeper as Roger poured his soul into the kiss, that fiery moment of love and heat. A hand glided up, flowing across the smooth skin of his back and waist, effortlessly erasing the past few months of panic, and fear with warm and gentle reassurance.
Roger moaned as Mark’s lips left his, gentle kisses leaving a trail across his jaw line, pausing behind his ear, before working their way down his neck.
“I love you.” Soft breath whispered against his skin. “Ever since… I saw you…” Roger’s hips bucked as Mark gently sucked his collarbone, the sensation driving him wild. Hands slid down his stomach, ghosting their way to the zipper of his worn jeans. Shifting his weight, he carefully slid out of his pants, not daring to let go, lest his dream fade away with the morning mist.
He leaned forward again, embracing Mark and recapturing his lips as he pressed him down into the sheets. Turning his head, he kissed the curve of Mark’s pale neck, each touch a declaration of love.
One hand slid suggestively down Mark’s side, and gently parted his legs, making a place for Roger to lie. Idly, he trailed a finger up the film maker’s body, playing with the fair hair he found there, and kissing the nape of Mark’s neck.
“Roger, I…” Mark gasped, body shifting against him.
“A-are you sure?”
Mark snorted, “Yes, I’m sure. I’ve wanted this, you, for longer than I can remember.”
“Alright. Condoms? We…need to be careful. I won’t risk-”
“Fuck!” Mark’s eyes snapped open in panic as Roger, startled, jumped back. “Fuck! The one thing I forget and it’s the most important thing!” He turned, rifling hurriedly under the mattress. “Oh thank God, there’s one left.” Smiling broadly, he pulled out a thin silver packet labeled ‘Silver Moon’ and passed it to Roger.
“Ok Mark, we’re going to go slow. Tell me if you want me to stop, I don’t want to hurt you.” The musician leaned forward, pressing another long kiss against Mark’s lips.
Hours later, the candles had all burned themselves out, and Roger and Mark lay sleeping, cuddled together under the silken sheets. Sighing contentedly, Roger opened his eyes, taking in the room with wonder as he slowly sat up.
Bright moonlight filled the room, casting long shadows against the walls. A glint on the floor marked the hastily discarded condom wrapper, a point of bright light in a sea of silver.
Is this how Mark feels all the time or am I just too damn tired?
He looked down at Mark, cuddled against him, and ran his hands through the short blond hair. “Thank God for the moon.” He mumbled, cuddling up against the film maker and falling back to sleep.