otherways - Venice, Italy - 1997 - Michael's apartment

[h2_muses]

As they enter, they step through the same doorway Michael returned to Milliways through, only they walk directly into the kitchen. It's small, but Michael's only one person and rarely home anyway. In front of them is the small balcony off the kitchen where Michael has coffee in the morning and brandy in the afternoon and waves to the nice old lady across the canal - the canal that is just a bit too small for the gondola to travel, so no fear of hearing the gondolier singing at any time during the day. When they turn around, they face the small doorway into the living room which has a couch, a chair, a table and lamp and another table with a radio. There is no television - he's never around to watch it, so there is no need. To the left is a short hallway to the bedroom; the hallway also contains a small linen closet. The bedroom - which they will get to shortly - is also small, there's barely a foot of floor space on either side of the bed and about four or five feet between the end of the bed and the wall, much of that taken up by one of the other two pieces of furniture in the room - a small dresser; the other piece is the small nightstand next to the bed, containing a small lamp, a clock and a book - Beowulf. Stephen can ask if Michael's actually read it. The door to the bathroom (also quite small) is next to the dresser. And just beyond that, on the far wall, is the other small balcony - also overlooking the canal.

Comments

[i-read.livejournal.com]

He smiles back.

"We're in Venice. Any lack of romance in my comments is instantly made up for by the setting. So there."

He leans up for a kiss before hissing at the rock of hips.

"Besides...any reaction from you is sexy."

[i_vanquish_evil]

"Yes, the view is outstanding." He leans down to nibble along Stephen's jaw, down his throat and over his collarbone, while one hand is slick and playing between Stephen's legs - one... two... three fingers inside, smoothly, slowly stroking, stretching. His other hand, still playing in Stephen's hair as he ducks his head to taste a nipple and the expanse of chest between it and the other.

[i-read.livejournal.com]

He can't speak anymore, his eyes rolled back in his head and his hands fisted in the sheets of the bed. With each stroke of Michael's hand, he arches a little more, arches into Michael's touch as small, panting gasps escape between parted lips.

[i_vanquish_evil]

"Touch me..." He nibbles over Stephen's chest, lightly biting and tasting as he shifts himself into place, not quite ready to press in, but getting there. For now, he's working on stimulating many many little nerve endings all over Stephen's body; the hand in his hair travelling down his back, settling at his hip a moment before smoothing over his ass and down his thigh, then back up and over his abs and chest, over his shoulder and down his arm. His other hand still smoothly stroking inside... he's waiting; waiting for that tiny little sound that means Stephen can't wait any longer.

[i-read.livejournal.com]

That little tiny sound at the back of his throat slips out and his muscles shake with it as he slides an arm up on Michael's arm, eyes closed as he moves entirely by touch.

[i_vanquish_evil]

Slowly, he withdraws his fingers, then, in one smooth motion, coats himself and pushes in easily. That hand now free, he curls his fingers around Stephen's cock, just holding for the moment. His other hand moves to slide up Stephen's back and fold around his shoulder. And he's kissing him again, deep, long, slow, wet kisses with mummurs of 'I love you' between breaths.