Mourning Heaven (MM) by Amy Lane

Author:Amy Lane [Lane, Amy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2014-09-11T04:00:00+00:00

Sunshine

THE water was chill to the point of shock, and Peter fought not to panic as it closed over his head. He kicked clear to the surface, fighting the mild current, and tried to catch his breath. By the time he’d thrown his hair out of his eyes and looked up, Bodi was standing on the shore, shivering, and Peter thought he’d join him. There was a granite shelf near the beach, and he swam until he could feel that under the sand and the murk of the bottom. Once his feet touched, he walked up the side.

Bodi held out a hand for him to make that final step up to the rock that served as a ledge, and Peter took it, surprised when Bodi pulled him, wet and shivering, into his arms.

They stood for a moment, bodies naked and touching, skin on skin in the sun, and Peter found he was melting into Bodi’s embrace like it was going to last. He shivered and burrowed deeper, careful of his nose, which was aching with the cold. Oh God, did he want it to last.

Bodi’s arms grew tighter, and then he pulled away. “Here, let’s get the bag in the sun and warm up,” he muttered. “The next time I want my balls to shrivel up and disappear, I’ll just jump off an airplane naked and skip the part where I almost drown.”

Peter snickered and walked to the clearing and helped Bodi move the bag—clothes on top and all—to the corner of the meadow that sat in the sun. They opened the bag up and sat down on it, still naked, and Peter leaned back on his elbows and tilted his head into the sun and let the heat sink into his chilled skin. For a moment, sadness, anger, hurt—all those things disappeared, and it was just the air on his body and the peace and the sound of the river.

There was movement, chilled skin close enough to touch his own, and a shadow over his face. He opened one eye, and there was Bodi, close enough that kissing was a possibility, far enough to look in his eyes comfortably as he spoke.

“I… I’m sorry,” he said, and Peter sighed.

“Don’t be.” He brought a hand up and cupped the side of Bodi’s face.

“It was your first time, Petey. I… if it was going to be me, it should have been….” Bodi closed his eyes then and lowered his head, allowing his lips to touch Peter’s. “Sweeter,” he whispered. “It should have been sweeter.”

Peter closed his eyes, too, seeing the red throb of the sun behind them but not caring. Bodi brushed his lips again, and Peter opened his mouth and pushed his hand from Bodi’s cheek to the back of his head. Their kiss deepened, and Peter closed his eyes tighter, to trap Bodi there, mouth moving on his, hand moving against his chest and his abdomen, the sensitive skin of his upper thigh.

Bodi pulled back for a minute, panting, and Peter traced his closed, swollen lips with a pointed tongue.

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