#coeurepuise

They'd stumbled from the bar to Gabriel's home laughing in a drunken blur, the details hazy. But details didn't matter, just the taste of whiskey on his lips, the heat of their bodies pressed together in the bed, the aching in his heart as he meets those green eyes. So like Antonio in every way, down to the name, except for where it mattered. Except for the mischief dancing in his eyes, the scars across his body, the love shared between them. A shadow of the real thing. But he masked his bitterness with a teasing smile as he took the other man's cock in his mouth.

They'd fucked for hours, whispering sweet nothings in between rough thrusts. When Gabriel closed his eyes, he could almost fool himself, almost imagine his Antonio. But the image slipped from his mind like smoke through fingers. The mortal man's voice was off, his hands too soft. And when Gabriel finally came, he moaned out Antonio's name, but the other man would never know the difference.

Antonio had fallen asleep beside him, but for Gabriel, sleep escaped him. His thoughts ran a million miles an hour, and he cursed himself for getting drunk enough for this. Finally he stood and threw on a bathrobe, heading out into his kitchen to find some distraction. But in only the time it took to make a cup of coffee later, he found himself sitting at his table and staring out the window into some memory. An all too common habit of his. The night sky, a melancholic painting of white spots against black, was his frequent friend in these brooding hours.

With a sigh Gabriel stared down into his coffee, idly tapping his fingers on the table. His thoughts returned again to Antonio, to how he'd left a love so incredible, and for what reason? He'd let his insecurities get to him. The constant arguing had worn him out, and he hadn't been sure if he wanted to stick around and work their issues out. So Gabriel had left on an impromptu sailing trip, only to let the years pass him by. What a fool he'd been.