I sigh, grinning giddily as I step inside the large foyer and close the door behind me. I’ve spent four glorious hours trudging around the museum, surrounded by art and culture and the only thing that could have possibly made it better would have been having Justin with me. In many ways he was, always in the back of my mind, his face and his hands and the memory of the shower from this morning, which of course led to other memories of he and I in the shower. It plagued me as my eyes traveled over Greek statues, their nakedness affecting me so much more than it usually does. It haunted me in European paintings, nude bodies twisted and curved around each other in ecstasy. It turned me on and revved me up and I swear to god I’m going to pounce him the second I find him which could be days given the size of his house.
A soft cheering from the family room catches my attention and I turn to see the massive television lit up, the crowd at Dodger Stadium cheering as one of the players in blue and white rounds the bases. I grin as I see Justin’s lanky frame draped across one of the leather couches, bare feet hanging over the end, one hand resting on his chest that’s rising and falling steadily, fast asleep.
I toe off my shoes, padding quietly towards him and carefully straddling his hips, my knees sinking into the soft leather as I lean in to kiss his lips softly. His head turns to the side, jerking awake with a gasp and he squints up at me before grinning lazily. He gives me a soft hum of acknowledgement, his hands smoothing weakly up my arms before falling back down to my thighs, his eyes falling closed again. I run a hand down his face, his cheek scratchy under my palm and I lean down to kiss him again, lips sliding down his chin. He hums again when I suck on his throat, his hands smoothing up my back.
“D’you have fun at the museum?” he mumbles, his voice thick with sleep and I hum affirmatively, nibbling at his pulse point. “You must have…you were gone forever.”
“How long have you been here?” I ask, suddenly alarmed that he’s been waiting long.
He yawns, muscles tensing underneath me as he stretches, his long body pulling tight. I slip my hands under his t-shirt, moaning softly as I feel the soft warm skin of his torso stretch over tight muscle. He makes a rumbling sound in his throat, his arms reaching far over his head and then collapsing back against the couch, his entire body limp.
“Oh I dunno,” he yawns again, his eyes still closed. “Couple years.”
I swat his chest. “Seriously.”
He chuckles. “I dunno babe. I don’t even know what time it is,” he whines, wiggling his hips and his face screws up in displeasure. “Here, move.”
He presses his knee against my inner thigh, lifting me slightly as he steeples his knees and I squeal quietly as I’m forced to move so that my body lays between his legs. He grips my biceps, pulling me down so I fall against his chest and he settles back into the couch with a contented sigh. I can’t help but smile, rubbing the side of my face against his chest, feeling his heart thud against my cheek. His fingers thread at the small of my back and he rests his chin on the top of my head, sighing again, wiggling just slightly until he’s comfortable again. His breathing slows and he’s asleep in seconds, my body following the motions of the steady rise and fall of his chest. I sigh, my body begging me to wake him up, to finish what we started this morning but I know he’s tired.
And if I really admitted it I am tired too, walking around all day and still being slightly jetlagged from the day before making my body heavy and weak. Within moments my eyelids are drooping, the steady thud of his heart like a lullaby as I slowly drift into unconsciousness.
