everlasting-luv

Stan was a beacon of light on top of Eric, the midevening sun’s dandelion-yellow beams falling aslant off the curve of his neck and shoulders. Though his face was partially shadowed, his eyes still managed to catch a stray line of gold whenever he tossed his head back and laughed.

Eric had seen a colour like Stan’s warmth-saturated eyes only once before—long ago, when he'd seen the sun strike coins at the bottom of a fountain at just the right angle to render the water lustrous and translucent, with only the faintest hint of blue shimmering out from beneath the amber light.  

“You’re staring,” commented Stan, his laughter from whatever Eric had said before melting into something more disconcerted and self-conscious. His chin sunk, spurring several long strands of dark hair to fall across his cheeks and eyelashes.

“It’s hard not to,” admitted Eric. Not just anyone got to lie in the soft grasses with someone as gorgeous as Stan Marsh straddling his waist, so he considered himself not only lucky, but sanctified.

Just yesterday, he’d been frustrated at the idea of a hike. Hours upon hours of walking, mosquito bites, and itchy grass against his socks weren’t exactly his idea of a happy Saturday. In his dread over discomfort, he’d almost forgotten how much he was willing to sacrifice for a moment like this.

As soon as they’d reached their destination today, Stan had pounced on him with the same agility and focus of the mountain lions probably stalking these woods somewhere. Eric didn’t even mind that they were both sweaty and tired anymore. Out here in the exposed face of the Earth’s barest elements, Stan was like any other woodland beast, ravenous and wild.

Normally they were patient while preparing, but this time Stan hadn’t wasted much time and effort in dropping his shorts and sinking himself onto Eric.

I guess you really haven’t been alive until you’ve listened to your lover’s moans mingle with the birdsongs, Eric told himself while he watched Stan, beautiful and gasping, rock above him. He wouldn’t say those words out loud, though. Too sappy.

“You’re beautiful,” he was willing to share instead, caressing Stan’s hips with his thumbs. Then he lifted a hand to where he’d tucked a small blueish-purple flower behind Stan’s ear earlier. Somehow, it had managed to stay in place throughout their lovemaking. Another miracle. “And sweet,” he added onto the compliment. “No wonder you’re such a problem for me. You know I’ve always been addicted to sweets.” He smiled.

“You're so different when we're alone. You always say such . . .” Stan started. His cheeks lit up pink, a sudden shy fire behind them. His sentence remained unfinished as he dipped low to kiss Eric, the bottomless light filling every crevice between their bodies so they appeared glued together with honey.