It was raining again, not as furiously as it had been previous days, but a slow, lazy drizzle that was both annoying and persistent. Today, Santiago had meant to go out into the garden and tend the neglected mint and tomato plants, which he worried would be under siege by weeds and insects brought out by the downpour. Instead, it seemed he'd be spending yet another day lounging in bed, listening serenely to the sound of the rain tapping at the window like an incessant guest, with the reassuring heat of the young man's sleeping body pressed against him.
Presently, as yet another talk show began on the quiet television, Santiago turned to the clock on the bedside table and noted that it was past noon, and that he and the young man hadn't yet eaten breakfast. He exhaled gently, and after a bit of willing forced his body upright. He ran his calloused hands through his short, dark hair, stretching and feeling the dull soreness in his hips and buttocks. With a light groan, he pried himself gently from the young man's embrace and swung his legs over the edge of the bed.
As he was about to rise, he felt the young man's hand clasp around his wrist. He turned; the young man was laying on his stomach, looking up at him with warm, dreary eyes.
"Don't go," the young man murmured in Spanish.
"I'm going to make breakfast."
"No." The young man was smiling, his face pressed against the mattress, refusing to release Santiago's wrist.
"You're not hungry, Alonzo?"
The young man's devious smile spread into a contagious grin. "Hungry for your love."
Santiago chuckled, ruffling Alonzo's soft brown locks. "Idiot," he said fondly.
Alonzo's hand left Santiago's wrist to cradle the older man's face, thumb gingerly rubbing the smooth cheek. He gazed up at Santiago, a gentle smile lingering on his full lips.
"What?" Santiago mumbled, his face warming as the young man continued to stare.
"Nothing," Alonzo said, giving Santiago's cheek a final caress before letting his hand drop away. "You're just the most beautiful, wonderful thing I've ever had in my entire life, is all."
Santiago blushed. He leaned down and kissed the young man softly on the temple, murmuring again, "Idiot."
Alonzo caught Santiago in his arms, preventing escape. Santiago laughed quietly.
"Can't breakfast wait, love?" Alonzo cooed.
"I suppose it'll have to."
~*~
The drizzle outside had worked itself into a storm by the time Alonzo was done with Santiago. The two men lay softly panting as the pitter-patter of rain on the window gradually became a loud drone. Positioned on top of Santiago, Alonzo gave the older man one more long, tender kiss as he slowly pulled out of him. Santiago gasped lightly, feeling the sudden emptiness once Alonzo was completely out, and then he wished for more, wished to be filled again. He wrapped his arms around Alonzo's neck and pulled him into an embrace.
"Was it good?" Alonzo inquired, his voice low and gentle. He nestled his head against Santiago's chest.
"Yes," Santiago answered. "It always is. As long as it's with you."
Alonzo smiled, running his hand lazily up and down Santiago's torso, from collar to abdomen. Santiago moaned softly in approval and raised a hand to stroke Alonzo's head, fingers curling themselves in the velvety hair.
They'd been doing this all morning, Santiago mused to himself. Hell, they'd been doing this all weekend. How many times, he wondered, had they made love in the past few days? He smiled to himself, realizing that for the first time in a long while he was perfectly content. He closed his eyes, feeling the soft tickle of Alonzo's breath on the skin of his chest, listening to heavy rain persist outside.
