Kiss

 Sometimes, when I'm alone in bed, before I drift off to sleep, I think about you. I like to imagine that I'm somewhere near you, maybe late at night, and always just the two of us. I think maybe you worked the late shift, you've come home and your room-mates are asleep, so you invite me over to keep you company, knowing I'm always there for you. You might need someone to talk to and have a drink or two with so you can unwind from the day, something like that, just whatever excuse my brain can create to be with you. I don't want it to be a time when you are hurting or upset and I'm comforting you, or a time when we are discussing all the troubles that creep in during the daylight, instead I want it to be a time when we are laughing softly, trying not to wake anyone, joking about whatever stupid thing we saw or heard or read during the day. The lights are off as we sit in the living room, the television is on with the sound turned low and everything is cast in that light-blue glow as some program we aren't even watching plays in the background. We are relaxed, both so comfortable in each other's company that it's almost as if we can see the wounds inside each other and can heal them or at least ease them with just a laugh or a gesture. Immediately after coming home you changed into your sweats, the ones you swear are so comfortable you would live in them if you didn't have to leave your house, and we're both sitting on the old sofa you bought years ago. We keep joking that you need to just junk it and buy a new one, but I think you're a little attached to it since it was the first real piece of furniture you bought out of college. You are curled up next to me, eyes drifting closed. You could just be remembering all the late night laughs we've shared on this sofa as I am, you could be lost in thought, or you could be drifting to sleep, I'm not sure. Thinking maybe it's time for me to go, I softly say your name and you open your questioning eyes to look at me. You must not have been close to sleep like I thought, because I don't see any trace of slumber in your eyes, although I do see something else, something I've seen before in those incredible eyes but never had the courage to ask about. Looking at you now, in the quiet and the the dark, I wonder if I should ask, although deep inside me I think I already know. I see the light from the television reflecting off of a strand of your hair, making it look soft and golden. I know it's a cliche move but I can't help myself from slowly tucking it behind your ear. You look up at me, and in the quiet I can almost hear your heart beating. I open my mouth to ask the question that is running through my mind the way water in a river runs constantly until it reaches it's destination. This is that moment, that moment when the decision has to be made. I ask you softly what that look in your eyes means, the one I've seen several times before; I imagine you've seen it in mine too, but never dared ask. Your lips are silent, but those eyes of yours continue to look at me, not with confusion or embarrassment, but with desire and a question of whether or not to give in. I see you wet your lips with your tongue, just a subconscious act while you try to decide which path to choose, and as I see the glistening moisture there, I take the decision out of your hands. I lean in close, eyes locked on yours while you let out a shuddering breath that brushes across my lips. I see your eyes drift closed moments before mine do the same, and I lean in to taste you. It's a soft kiss, but long, and leads to another, a little deeper, in which the tip of your tongue slides between our lips and teases mine. Just that small sensation has a moan working it's way from between my lips. I smell a scent that is purely you. It's a scent of your skin, no perfume, just you, mingled lightly with the sweat from your day spent working that you haven't had a chance to wash away yet, and your arousal. For me. It's a scent I never want to forget, and I inhale deeply as I lay another long, soft kiss against your willing mouth. One of my arms is around you, wanting to hold you to me, and I slowly move the other down your cheek, down your neck and softly, tentatively to one of your breasts, so soft and warm that I melt. I wait patiently with your lips on mine to make sure that it's ok, that I haven't gone somewhere you weren't willing go. You never move your mouth from mine but you gently push yourself into my palm and I slowly start rubbing across the fabric of your t-shirt, across your already straining nipple as I hold you, causing you to moan into me as your tongue slides again against mine. We both know it can't work, not in real life, where we both have people that won't understand and situations keeping us from being together like this, but we have this night, and it's a night I know I will hold in my soul and relive each time I see your face. I also know that every time we are together from now on, I will be able to look into your eyes and know that you are doing the same. For this night at least, we're answering the question we've both held for so long, answering it so completely and in every way so that when morning comes and we have to return to reality, we will know just how truly beautiful passion can be.