Hollow Moon

[V. Luxuria]

[1]

 

 

The early afternoon sunlight poured through the little bedroom window, fresh and golden as the fields of Ceres herself.

 

David lay on the bed, propping his head up with one arm, his hand resting on his chin. The air felt cool and light on his naked body. A smile sat on his gentle face, a smile that glowed with a sense of blissful calm and wellbeing. Lying prostrate on the bed beside him was another young man, black-haired, his face sunk into the pillow. David stared through half-shut eyes at the man's sculpted olive-coloured back, watching it rise and fall rhythmically, accompanied by smooth breathing. To David, it was a sight brimming with humanity, dignified and honest. He felt like an insignificant piece of Nature's impossibly grand picture, and was happy.

 

The other man spoke, his voice softened through the pillow, "What time is it?"

 

David lowered himself onto his back to glance at the antique clock sitting on the bedside table behind him. "Just before one." He turned again to face the young man's body. The sun glorified it, turning every muscular arch into a thing of beauty. David had the irresistible urge to reach out and touch this work of art. He felt the young man's body stiffen slightly in his palm. "You don't have to leave for a few more minutes, do you?"

 

The young man pushed himself up into a sitting position, causing David's hand to fall limply onto the bed sheet. His face, broad-jawed and masculine, obscured David's view of the window. His eyes, filled with a sense of thoughtful sadness, stared into space. "My father told me he needed me back at the house in an hour." He slid out of the bed and slowly began dressing. David sat up with his back to the headboard and watched him.

 

The young man’s movements seemed strangely mechanical, artificial somehow. His figure appeared darkened in front of the sunlight coming through the window. The silence hung conspicuously in the room. He pulled on a faded shirt and a pair of dull grey trousers. He sat down on the bed with his back to David and began tying his shoelaces. "Peter," spoke David, a note of anxiety creeping unmistakably into his voice. He meant to address the spectre of doubt that appeared between them, to articulate his emotions, to make things, somehow, natural once again. But the moment seemed wrong. "It doesn't matter." The moment always seemed wrong.

 

Peter got to his feet and walked towards the door. He hesitated as he placed his hand on the doorknob. David climbed out of the bed, moved towards the young man, and began kissing the rocky face and the thick neck, over and over, greedily like a dog lapping at a bowl of water. Peter's arms clasped the small of David's naked back. It was these moments in which David felt comfortable, the outbursts of emotion, the spontaneity. Peter loosened his grip and left the room.

 

David listened to Peter's footsteps moving slowly out of earshot. The sunlight clouded over, and the empty room was tinged in grey.

 

[Vercetti21]

First of all, welcome to the forums!

 

Secondly, that was excellent writing. Really, I can't wait to see how this turns out.

[V. Luxuria]

Thank you for your kind words.

[Canofceleri]

I actually was able to make it through this piece, which is more than I can say for most of the stuff posted here. I'm interested in seeing where you're headed with this.