How about the aftermath of sex? This is undoubtedly NOT what you were looking for *smacks head on desk*
Steve watches Christian from the doorway of his room, the glass of water forgotten in his hand. Christian’s in the middle of their bed, on his hands and knees, the beads of sweat on his back glistening in the afternoon sunlight streaming in from the windows. Still, it’s the shadowed view of Christian’s distended belly hanging down towards the mattress that really makes Steve swallow hard.
Christian’s flushed, desperate, and gorgeous. He’s constantly shifting, clenching the old cream-colored sheets in his fists, tossing damp tendrils of hair away from his face, trying to get his knees wider as he rhythmically rocks his hips back. He’s panting and groaning and Steve loves Christian this way, so lost in the sensations that he doesn’t give a damn how he looks or sounds.
Steve is just thinking that it shouldn’t be surprising that this moment would remind him of how they got pregnant to begin with when Christian lifts his head to look at him, letting Steve see the tense lines of pain in his face, the beautiful blue eyes bright and wet and unconsciously pleading.
Stepping into the room then, Steve places the glass on the bedside table before kneeling on the bed with his Christian. One hand goes immediately to the stretched skin of Christian’s belly while the other is pushing the hair away from Christian’s face so that Steve can rest his lips against Christian’s temple.
Slowly, Steve pulls Christian up on his knees and Christian sags back against Steve’s also naked body taking the offered comfort, his restless hands kneading Steve’s muscular thighs like an overgrown cat. After nine months of varying levels of discomfort, Steve’s really tired of seeing Christian in pain.
With a sudden grunt, Christian is falling forward back onto his hands again, thrusting his hips back again like he wants to bear down. But it’s not time yet, so Steve runs his hands up Christian’s back to his hair and then sets about pulling the long chestnut hair back into a ponytail again, even though Christian keeps pulling it out in frustrated pain.
“Hey, c’mon let’s lay down,” Steve whispers as he’s already pulling on Christian’s broad shoulders to get him to lie down on his side, back to Steve’s chest, Steve’s hands curled around Christian’s belly. Yeah, Steve likes Christian flushed and panting and desperate for Steve’s touch, but he thinks Christian is the most gorgeous he’s ever been just like this.
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timeasmymeasure
Just Like This
Date: 2010-06-06 12:50 pm (UTC)Steve watches Christian from the doorway of his room, the glass of water forgotten in his hand. Christian’s in the middle of their bed, on his hands and knees, the beads of sweat on his back glistening in the afternoon sunlight streaming in from the windows. Still, it’s the shadowed view of Christian’s distended belly hanging down towards the mattress that really makes Steve swallow hard.
Christian’s flushed, desperate, and gorgeous. He’s constantly shifting, clenching the old cream-colored sheets in his fists, tossing damp tendrils of hair away from his face, trying to get his knees wider as he rhythmically rocks his hips back. He’s panting and groaning and Steve loves Christian this way, so lost in the sensations that he doesn’t give a damn how he looks or sounds.
Steve is just thinking that it shouldn’t be surprising that this moment would remind him of how they got pregnant to begin with when Christian lifts his head to look at him, letting Steve see the tense lines of pain in his face, the beautiful blue eyes bright and wet and unconsciously pleading.
Stepping into the room then, Steve places the glass on the bedside table before kneeling on the bed with his Christian. One hand goes immediately to the stretched skin of Christian’s belly while the other is pushing the hair away from Christian’s face so that Steve can rest his lips against Christian’s temple.
Slowly, Steve pulls Christian up on his knees and Christian sags back against Steve’s also naked body taking the offered comfort, his restless hands kneading Steve’s muscular thighs like an overgrown cat. After nine months of varying levels of discomfort, Steve’s really tired of seeing Christian in pain.
With a sudden grunt, Christian is falling forward back onto his hands again, thrusting his hips back again like he wants to bear down. But it’s not time yet, so Steve runs his hands up Christian’s back to his hair and then sets about pulling the long chestnut hair back into a ponytail again, even though Christian keeps pulling it out in frustrated pain.
“Hey, c’mon let’s lay down,” Steve whispers as he’s already pulling on Christian’s broad shoulders to get him to lie down on his side, back to Steve’s chest, Steve’s hands curled around Christian’s belly. Yeah, Steve likes Christian flushed and panting and desperate for Steve’s touch, but he thinks Christian is the most gorgeous he’s ever been just like this.