#mrastuck

Without missing a beat his fingers trail down your neck and his weight shifts on top of you. He's never been heavy, but you still let out a huff of breath like he is. This earns you a solid flick to the Adam's apple and you just laugh along with him before you're cut off with the softest of kisses. You know that he knows you need this and you're more glad than you'd ever admit to have him here. Though who are you kidding? You tell him every time the two of you are together again after so long that you've missed him.

That you love him and that you can't stand it when he's gone.

The two of you write letters and emails and send texts and even Skype but you can never call. His school has some sort of policy against them and the time difference is the worst thing that's ever happened to you. But when you're together it's like you're a single entity. Like the world around you can't break what you have and no one can tear you apart.

Neither of you say anything as you rest your foreheads together and you know that his eyes must be closed too as your noses bump against each other. He moves again and ghosts his lips along your jaw and neck, letting his hands trace idly against the exposed skin of your chest. His touch is electric against your skin and you let out a soft sigh at its beautiful, long lost familiarity. Every brush of his fingertips makes you long for more contact and more of him, though at the same time you want every touch to last and linger. These moments are so soft and so fleeting after all, who are you to beg for more?

He moves back and rests his weight on your thighs instead of your diaphragm, making it easier to breathe and so much more tempting to open your eyes and look at him. But he'd asked you to keep your eyes closed today, and you always do what he asks if you can.

You can feel as his eyes roam down your body, followed by his trailing fingertips. All you can do is shudder and gasp as he brushes over sensitive patches of skin again and again. He's always done this, though. It's almost like a game with no winner, and all you want is to do the same to him. After all, that's what the two of you have done for years.

He leans down again and his lips are against yours with the same soft, sweet touches of his fingers. With a gentle hum his lips part and you part yours to move with him. The feeling of each movement is precious and fleeting, just like everything about his touches. His hands rest at your waist until he moves forward a little, bringing them down to meet yours. Fingers lacing with his and lips and tongue dancing send you spinning into your joined world. A world where the two of you have promised endless togetherness.

His thumbs trace against yours and your back arches in an attempt to feel more of his skin against yours. Any touch. Any sensation. The two of you need and want and love each other in such a way that sexuality is put aside for sensuality. You look and feel and touch, and in your joined forever that's enough.

He listens and kisses and touches when you need it, and you do the same for him.

You know that he knows that you would die for him if he asked, but you know that he would never ask because neither of you could live without the other. Being separated by distance had been trying enough on the two of you. And this is why you're both kissing and touching and tasting like you haven't in years.

In all honesty you'd thought that the two of you would grow out of this when you were younger. That the soft, gentle touches and little kisses would be lost to time. But as you both let out soft sighs and you can tell that you each had thought that, and that you're both glad that it isn't true.

You've missed and needed this. You've missed and needed him. You silently promise to love him forever, though you know that he knows, and to always protect him and cherish him and have him in any way that the two of you can share.

The two of you have been through so much that these moments reassure you that he loves you too. That he'll need and love and want you the way that you want him. Then again you aren't sure if you've ever needed that reassurance. It belittles what the two of you have.

Too soon he breaks your lips apart, though his move to press softly against your cheek and jaw and neck. With little nips and sucks he almost teases you, because you know that this isn't what all of your touches have been about today. All that you really want is for him to keep touching in these small, intimate ways.

He moves up your neck, kissing lightly as he goes, and stops only to whisper almost sensually to you. “Open your eyes.” You oblige and he smiles down at you, running his fingers over the smooth skin of your neck and jaw again.

You don't have to tell him that you love him right now. All you have to do is lock eyes with him and let him know that way, as he does with you.

With everything in place you go to bed and try to forget about the unfortunate event. It never happened. You never let it happen and Cronus never suggested it.

For the next two days, you don’t speak a single word to Cronus. He tries striking up conversation after conversation, but you don’t let yourself play into his game. You leave the room immediately every time he enters the one you’re in and you’re not really planning on stopping any time soon. You even take to staying in your room if he follows you around and just locking the door, something that you at least assume should keep him out.

Any time you’re left to your own devices, though, you can’t help but to think about it. How dare he gawk at you like that? It’s one thing to do what he tried to do - and really, you don’t have any idea why you even accepted his offer in the first place - but another entirely to just stare. You understand that he may have been caught off guard, but that’s no excuse. To be honest, though, you’re very glad that he hesitated because it allowed you to gather your bearings and remove yourself from the situation.

Unfortunately, you drop your guard as you try to prepare yourself a nice breakfast and find yourself caught in a situation that you can’t avoid. As you whip your eggs to be scrambled, you hear someone whistling from the living area. You don’t look up, hoping that it’s just one of your roommates going to class. But then you can hear footsteps on the tiles and the whistling stops as you’re dumping your eggs into the pan.

In fact, you don't just have a single opinion, you have a multitude of them, but for now there is really only one that matters.  And it's that playing with toys meant for little girls with two other grown men is by far the most ridiculous thing that you could be doing with your time.  And yet, here you are.  Literally three grown men sitting around with tiny, plastic ponies while you listen to songs written for a show geared toward children. When you first heard of their interest in the show, you swore upon every book that is sacred and holy that you would never join in.

And yet here you are, manipulating a tiny plastic pony into prancing across the coffee table and silently hating everything that your life has become. You lift her off of the table and swoop her around demurely, making sure to portray her flight in the most ladylike fashion possible.  Strangely enough, it isn’t terribly difficult to play with these two. They tend to be at least somewhat entertaining despite having the same sorts of habits as little girls.  Which really is a shame in your eyes; they could be proper men.  But no.