I like Boys ; Boys like Me

I like Boys ;; Boys like me

Open your door - I'll be your tenant
Don't got much baggage to lay at your feet
But sweet kisses I've got to spare
I'll be there - I'll cover you

Sweet the kisses that patted down his back, sweet were the kisses that travelled down his chest, closer-closer- Oh, Jesas God Almighty. Was that a tongue scraping down his- oh the Gods almighty, alright. A low murmur of a breath was released from his, and a moan was elicited. His cheeks were blushed, he could feel the colour in them, could feel the heat rising from his face, and from his body in that sensual that was what happened when they got like this. The body heat rolled off their shoulders, sweat glistening their bodies, making them glow in the half-darkness. Another moan was elicited forth, but this time it was not coming from him, but from the other as he came to the part they both liked best.

"Are you sure you don't mind? You sure you're okay with this?" That ghost of a whisper washed over him and he gave a small nod of his head. He was ready, he was ripe for the picking, and he was ready for his lover. But no- something was in his eyes. No, he hadn't forgotten. This was never going to go beyond, was it? A shake of the head confirmed it. He couldn't. He wouldn't. No, he had a disease within him that he kept, which had been brought onto him for his alone person to suffer with until Death came knocking on the door. He couldn't do that to his lover, his lover, his beautiful babe with the dark skin whom he had rescued from the slums of the streets and helped him. He could not bring such a disease on. And he had to keep on a straight face.

A smile crawled up the face, "That was nice while it lasted, though." He commented, his eyes taking on the shiny glitter it usually did when excited over some happening that would interest him. A shaking laugh responded from his partner after he'd said that. The usual hand came over his slender shoulders and rested there, pulling him quite close, but not quite close that their lads below should touch much. The nuzzled, slobbering all over their faces in order to kiss right in their position. His partner was on the floor, bent on his knees; while he was climbed on the bed, leaning down to receive his love.

"Oh, but you sure are a moaner. Could have woken half the street- you could have." This was responded with light cheer, and he placed an arm on the near-shaved head of his lover.
"My Angel, my lovely saviour that saved me from whatever could have happened to me out on that cold evening. How much I love you." At these playful words, he put his arm 'round the boy's waist, barely lifting him out of bed. He stood him there, and looked him down. Angel could only guess at what he saw: a lanky fellow with a blonde wig nearly falling out place, damn boy below near swollen to burst, and naturally long shaped lashes that he now stared through, shivering a bit in the draft of the room, to his lover. Not a very tall man, he was, but he was finely built, Angel enjoyed tracing, even now, the small muscles that were more pronounced than the others, like standing soldiers to be inspected. Angel smiled, because he knew that that body was his, only his, and the soul and everything with it came in the package. And he also knew that as much as his lover was his, he was his lover's too. Every single particle of hisself, even to that dreaded disease that threatened to overtake his every thought- and was only saved because of his lover. His lover, oh his lover. Come here you, he said presently, and Angel walked into his arms, knowing every smell of his as the other might already know every smell of hisself too.

At that time, he knew nothing could separate them. Nothing. Collins had promised. Had promised that he'd cover him, always, always, 'until his heart expired', and much after that. Much, much. Angel didn't have a worry on him that night: he was where he wanted to be, with his lover and no one else. No one else could part them, no disease, certainly not the disease. No, never the disease. Although they may be unable to be physical at it, he was happy with the cuddling they got. He was happy with what he had. Even if it was rented, and not bought.

That night, before they drifted off into sleep, Angel had decided to say something that took Collins by surprise: "I love you." He had said. And he repeated it three times slowly, and three more times so he could grasp the words. And after that, Collins had done the same. And this made Angel smile. He had slept well that night, sleeping with a smile and dreamt of being in another place, disease free, with his lover beside him, and beside him always he was. Nowhere else.


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A/N: Um, nothing to say about this piece, except that I love the Broadway show, would love to see it, loved the movie, and I especially love these two characters. ^^