“Don’t remember much, and yet... it was quite vivid, if you follow.”
Pausing, Jon waited with scrunched cheeks, eyes just barely a crack apart while Robb Mother Goosed about his face, rough cotton swiping hitherto and wherefore. He’d much have preferred the fast-action lapping of boyfriend’s most skilled appendage, licked clean like a cat at a fishbone providing tongues and lips got caught up in fisherman’s net while conversation fell overboard with no regrets.
Perhaps another time, thought which complimented beaming smile as Robb bent closer with greatest, tenderest care and removed the last splotches of cum threatening permanent vision impairment.
Things would not always go the way Jon wanted them to; sex, career, family, life, instead, pivotal to maintain flexible expectations and seek the simple pleasures throughout each day. Afterall, they were what added up in the end. A million tiny stars in night’s ethereal sky more breathtaking and complex and awe-inspiring than the silvery moon. Robb wouldn’t always do or say the right things - In fact, with how much Scotsman prattled and yacked, he often said the exact opposite. - but verbal miscues could not negate the love felt in better half’s index finger delicately swiping the crook of his eye, nor the joy undulating off freckled skin in constant waves. Just being together was enough, through the flaws and imperfections Jon learned to cherish in equal measure.
And perhaps endorphins were getting the better of spent testicles; more of that chemical bonding agent that made women amourous and men dominating and possessive. Hardly matters. Doesn’t change how perfect and fucking incredible he is, how much more I love him everyday.
Fact that Jon didn’t shy away from the soiled-tee until Robb considered him well and truly clean, or grouse about lack of messy kisses and whispered three-word affections, spoke volumes through the silence. They’d grown a lot as a couple those last few weeks, learned to appreciate one another in a light new and fresh as the daybreak Jon traced across boyfriend’s pecks one pink nipple to the next.
“In my dream I was riding a horse, it was bloody freezing - probably because you’d just pulled the blankets off - and I was a prisoner, maybe? Under guard or some such rubbish and I recall thinking, ‘They should’ve cuffed my wrists....’ but then I woke up and someone had cuffed my wrists.”
“And shite, you know when you get hard too fast and it hurts in that really ertoic way?”