A sliver of light falls across Jude’s face, then it’s gone, then Robert’s crawled into his bed.
He sucks in his breath, exhales, then turns so that he faces Robert’s back, still, unmoving.
Jude moves to put an arm around Robert, reassuring, firm, before trailing down slowly, to rest on Robert’s stomach. He splays his fingers and experimentally applies pressure, pushing into the soft flesh slowly, gently, but Robert is tensing, curling up and pulling away, and Jude has to retract his arm but-
Robert’s form is still again, but a different sort of still, contracted and withdrawn.
Jude sighs and turns over, and then the light falls on his face again, disappears, and Robert is gone.
The next night it is Jude that slips into Robert’s bed, quietly. An arm slips about Robert, but is careful to remain about his chest, firm and hard and lovely but-
Firm, and hard.
It’s not his tummy, just sticking out slightly like the lower lip of a petulant child, (which he acted like, sometimes) the gentle curve, artistic, really, the way it arched and fell as he breathed. Delectable, just like fairy floss was, cottony and sweet and fragile; spun of the webs of wood-nymphs; amazing amazing amazing.
Jude felt his breath hitch as Robert shifted, twitching the sheets. They lie like that for a long time, together, in the dark.
A wonderful then-
Robert catches at his hand and pulls it downwards, so that it rests lightly on his belly.
The first pale milky rays of the morning appear, catching the edges of Robert’s hair, tracing his profile, highlighting the brown in his eyes and the red in his mouth; laying a blanket of gossamer down over everything; everything is sweet, sweet.
Robert sits up and laughs and the quiet and solemn is over, the pussyfooting gone. He swoops to give Jude a kiss on the nose, the casual, happy ones he’s known for, quick and playful and chaste, and meaningful and serious.
Jude pokes his nose back for a bit, giggling, schoolboy-esque, as the sun really comes out.
Thank you so much for the submission, this is beautiful!