Title:
Winter Seeds (happy birthday Lira!)
Author:
Bernie
Pairing:
Nik Sundstrom / Markus Naslund
Rating
PG-13
Dedication:
Lira, for her birthday and for being wonderful
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction
Markus
POV
My
eyes were open. My eyes were open as well as yours but shouldn't all kisses be
with your eyes closed, and - have you ever been blind?
Stuck in the dark somewhere in a room you don't know
well, and you know a wall is coming up, that you have a chance of getting to
the door, but you stumble forward with your arms in front of you, knowing there
is a better chance of smacking nose first into the drywall than making it out.
But you can feel the wall looming ahead of you, as
much as you are coming up to it. And you slow down to greet its presence, trail
your fingers along the wall, shuffle the door and walk into the hallway. And
where were you headed? Slipping away from me in the dark.
Of course you are not really blind, as you are not
really blind now, even though you have your eyes closed. And where were you
going anyway, except maybe to play in the moonlight. The stars burn though the
blinds, kiss you; bathe you in light, piercing tiny pinpricks in the sky.
But, you can feel it as well as I can, the wall
looming up over us, as much as well are going to it, standing here, not moving
at all.
We should be standing in the snow. We should be
shorter, and it should be cold, and we should be outside afraid of getting
caught, instead of inside by the window afraid of catching each other.
The first time, when we were very young, and when we
at home, I had kissed you, because we both wanted to know what it was like, and
there was no one else to kiss.
I think I remember something, the taste of wine and I
think that we had sneaked off with some when we weren't supposed to. So it must
have been a special occasion. It was cold so I imagine it was Christmas. And
the frozen clouds of our breath, puffed out quickly, tiny gasps in time with
our heartbeat, tangled together icicles in the air in front of us. I did not
think that alcohol could freeze.
Your mouth was as cold as mine. And we did not know
where to put our arms, your hands were resting on my shoulders, and mine on
your hips, I did not have a chance to pull you against me, and the night wind
blew the lake air between us. Back then I was just a tiny bit taller than you.
And although it was black around us, I could see you and read your expression,
the terror and horror and I remember you back most of all what you looked like
running away from me.
I can hear the ocean here, in the distance.
We had our eyes open. And your eyes got bigger and
bigger as we kissed, and you pulled back first. You had snow in your hair, and
it wet it and dragged it down, so it lay in thick curls against your cheeks.
But when you asked me tonight, making it a joke, if I
remember our kiss, I said of course not, that I recall no such thing.
It is California, and even if it is nearly Christmas,
it is not cold at all. And it never really gets dark here; we are to deep in
the city.
If we are going to kiss now, should we do it properly?
Close your eyes. Lean forward in the dark. Bump noses.
Tilt your head. Open your mouth. Lick your lips. Kiss me. Kiss me back. Please.
End.
