...
A warm heat circulated around their bodies. Chas’ arm was lazily strung over his shoulders, dark brown hair tickling his apricot skin. A hand lazily furrowed at his scalp, fingernails dragging duly at his head. Turner slowly slid down further into Chas’ lap. He couldn’t quite recall just how the pair ended up like this, but he oddly enjoyed it. His wired brain wasn’t calculating things right now.
They were talking. Words acting as their sounds of music. Turner felt like he was floating. Yet he was grounded. Warmth of their bodies heated their space. Chas’ body acted like a foundation. A sturdy fixture for his ever so changing mind. Everything was heavy, yet a lightly coated texture.
Words of performing , literature, artists, painting, and other meaningless words of not passed through their ears. Some staying, others sliding out of range. Chas’ fingers would stop, to only start back up. Curled in dark chocolate strands, Chas would take his other hand and take a wisp of Turner’s hair in his fingers, cascading over his palm as grains of sand would.
Turner reminded him of a nymph. A pretty forest sprite caught up in a bohemian world. Rather than escaping, he became immersed in t. Took it to his stride and completed it with his own personality. He was now more the artist, not the sprite. He was a peculiar little one, always having some type of mystic thought in his mind. Just frolicking around.
He moved his head upwards, Turner’s curious light blue eyes gazing up at the darker skinned Chas. His mystic eyes burrowed into Chas’ own ocean hues. Turner lazily stretched his lips into a silent form of appreciation. His dark hair framed his face, a pale contrast of light and dark. Chas felt his own lips stretching into a grin of satisfaction.
He shifted his body a little, the plush covers rubbing against both of them. The large bed acted like a large roof, even though they were inside the house. Pherber and Lucy ewere nowhere to be seen, but it was oddly enjoyable. The bed was made up with many covers, scattered about with many pieces of brightly colored fabrics and textures.
“Isn’t this nice, Chas?” Turner had still kept his eyes locked with Chas’.
“Yeah,” Chas said after a brief moment. “It is.”
Turner smiled at him. He then shifted his thin limbs around, only to slide down more. He blew out a little sigh , to only disappear into the lazy, heat ridden room of the basement. Chas presses his lips into the back of Turner’s head, his lips quirking up into a smile. Turner then turned around in Chas’ arms facing him. He got up on an elbow and drew lazy patterns on his stomach.
He laid his chin on Chas’ stomach, Turner felt very at ease with the whole situation. He then closed his blue eyes.
“Yeah,” he said softly to him, eyes still closed, ”this is very nice, isn’t it?”
Oh, this is still one of my favorite pieces.
Current music is "Moonlight Mile" by The Rolling Stones.
