Head too heavy to lift.  Limbs dead weights at my sides.  Hot salty tears coursing down pale cheeks.  I can taste them as they drip onto my lips.

The door slam still echoes in my head.

Motionless for seeming aeons since the angry fire of an engine and the squeal of tires as Daniel drove away.

Broken glass on the floor by the wall unit stirs a hazy memory of throwing a vase at Daniel.  I didn't want to hit him but almost did.  I want to touch the pointed shards now, feel the sting, draw blood.  //Physical pain goes away.//

I can't remember why we were fighting.  I'm trying but the memory escapes me.  I can only remember the shouting, the torrent of harsh angry words that have left a bitter aftertaste in my mouth.

The floor is cold.  I should get up.  Do something.  Pick up the fragments of glass on the floor... but I don't have the will.  Breathing alone is too much effort.

Do I always feel like this after we fight?  Is there always this desolation, this incredible despair?  This feeling that maybe we aren't meant to be.  Maybe we're better off apart.

The click and squeak of the front door opening and I drag my head upwards.  Soft footsteps and then I'm staring at Daniel with slightly blurred vision.  I didn't realise the tears hadn't stopped.  Daniel's expression is guarded.  As if he's still unsure whether the fight is over.  As am I.  Deafening silence as I wait for him to speak first.  And he waits for me.

The silence is too much.  He's only at the door but he feels miles away.  I want him to touch me, scold me, yell at me again, anything to break the stalemate.  He doesn't.  Finally, I give in, opening my mouth and letting my thoughts flow out unchecked.

"Is it supposed to be like this?" 

His guard slips and I catch a glimpse of sadness.

"I don't know."  He shifts self-consciously,  "I don't think so."  He hasn't moved but somehow he feels closer.

"I can't keep doing this, Dan."  My voice sounds choked, I know he notices it.  "I don't know if I can go on like this... it hurts too much."

He approaches me then, no longer guarded.  I see affection etched in his expression.  "It was just a fight, Daz."  He slides down the wall to sit beside me, taking my hand in his.  Our fingers entwine automatically.  "Couples fight all the time..."  

I try to smile at him but halfway there I feel my face crumple.  His arms close around me and he holds me as the tears begin to flow again.  His fingers are a soft caress through my hair.  His chest is warm and solid against my cheek.

"You always did feel too much, Daz."  He murmurs into my hair.  My arms tighten around him.  The sobs rack my body, robbing me of breath, of the ability to speak.  

"It's alright..."  He whispers the whole time, voice low and soothing.  "It's alright baby, let it out..."

And I do... the tension, the frustration, the hurt, all pour out until his shirt is damp.  My head still rests on his chest as the tide stems, I take deep cleansing breaths, feeling my body stop quivering, feeling myself calm.

Finally I raise my head and meet Daniel's eyes.  They are misty with unshed tears.  My heart clenches.  This isn't easy for either of us.

The touch of his fingers under my chin, tilting my head up.  The soft brush of his lips across mine makes my eyes flutter closed briefly.

"I'm sorry, Daz."  He whispers, his breath feathering across my lips.  I'm lost in emerald eyes.

"I'm sorry too."  I lean in and kiss him, pouring my heart into it, letting my mouth say what my soul feels.  //I love you.//  His lips cling to mine, our tongues entwining.  I drink him in, tasting him, wanting more.

We press as close to each other as our awkward positions allow, kissing deeply.  His hand strays downward and I feel his caress through dense denim.  When a touch becomes a stroke I break the kiss, panting.

"This isn't the best spot for this."  I'm out of breath, the words an immense effort.

"I'd say not..."  his lip curls, he drops a kiss on my mouth.  His hand continues it's slow assault.  I moan and can't help the movement of my hips.  "Shall we?"  He tips his head toward the bedroom.  My agonised breathing making speech impossible, I merely nod.

~*~

We fall onto the bed and his lips find mine again.  Desire courses through me, hot and rampant.  His hands under my shirt make me sigh.  His fingers work at my shirt buttons, and then his lips find my chest making me moan and writhe. His tongue trails patterns of fire over my skin.  So hot.  I expect his mouth to leave heat marks on me.  

His hands at my zipper and I want to scream.  This is beyond want.  This is need.  The scrape of a zip and I am released to his hands.  Soft pressure and caresses through satin boxers.  His lips move against my stomach and I hear him speak.

"What were we fighting about?  I can't remember..."  

The swipe of his tongue just above my waistband.  My hips buck.

"Oh lord I don't know... I don't care."  Too much longing in my voice, I am actually pleading.

His breath burns through the thin material of my boxers.  I long for more intimate contact.  He tugs the waistband down and I feel the kiss of cool air on the tip of my cock.

"Come on, try."  He whispers.  Drops a kiss on bare too-sensitive skin.  I moan and lift my hips in invitation.

"Please Dan... it doesn't matter.  I don't remember."  Head pressing back into the pillow, my voice alien is to me, too needy, too wanton to be mine.  He inches my boxers lower until I am fully exposed.  Warm puffs of air from his mouth feather over my straining flesh.  I am dying.

"Forgive me then?"  he asks innocently.  Follows the question with a wet flick of his tongue.  I shudder violently at the brief touch.

"Yes Daniel - anything - just *please*..."  

Finally the hot wet velvet of his mouth around me.  So good I almost scream. I am completely incoherent, lost in the slick slide of his mouth over me.  I force my eyes open to watch him, and find him watching me.  His gaze is a physical touch as he brings me off.  Every sensation of his mouth on my cock is intensified by having the spotlights of those emerald eyes turned on me.  

I'm a lover, I'm a star, I'm a slut, I'm a god.  I'm Daniel's lover.  Daniel's star, his slut, his god. My fingers clench the sheets.  My eyes squeeze shut.  I feel it rising in me, ache sharpening, pleasure unfurling ... it's coming, it's coming... I'm coming.  Coming in a rush of hot cream and a strangled cry and an incredible burst of intense pleasure.

And he's swallowing it down, and suckling and pulling, milking it for all its worth.  Until my breathing starts to slow, and my chest stops heaving.  Then he slides up to lie next to me, resting his head on his hand, regarding me.  My face is burning, I am sweaty and hot and I feel thoroughly debauched.  Yet he's looking at me with such utter adoration I've never felt more beautiful.

He kisses me softly, slowly, like I'm delicate and fragile.  And at that moment I am, that's how I feel.  Then he slides his arms around me and pulls me into his embrace.  Holds me.  

And it's just what I need.