Angel's Sleep

Breaths mingled in between to so near faces...

Curio rolled over, and hapless arm stretched out, an irritated groan escaping his lips. “Why?” He asked the light, which had so rudely interrupted his sleep. Or was it possibly the lack of the comforting warmth that had been beside him all night? Wait... Curio lived alone, and he wouldn't bring a woman home...

The brunette sat bolt upright, eyes wide open. The regal bedroom which unfolded around him was not his own, with linen sheets, a grand window that opened to a balcony and the most beautiful blond man standing there. I'm dreaming...

Sweet, tender lips pressed so earnestly together...

The gorgeous figure on the balcony gave a long-winded sigh, platinum-blond locks swaying light the rays of the sun itself in the wind. The angel, as Curio had so aptly decided to call it, turned and gazed at him. He tucked a strand behind his ear.

“Oh... You've awoken.” The sweet apparition smiled, hair loose around his shoulders. His voice was lyrical to the drowsy Curio in the bed before him. “Did you sleep...” The pause sounded uncomfortable, the undeniable urge to hug this angel sweeping slowly through Curio's head, “well?”

As if on cue, the scarred man on the bed held his head tightly. “Ohh... Shit.” He groaned. Maybe I'm not dreaming.

Hands trailed easily over obtrusive fabric...

Curio made the move to stand up, and a massive blush crossed the angel's face. “You... May wish to dress, and wait for the hang-over remedy to arrive before doing that.” He'd whirled around, hands clasped tightly behind his back.

The brunette lifted an eyebrow. What could have made such a beautiful creature so wound up? Curio took a look down, and realized that his shift in movement had uncovered a less than distinguished part of his anatomy. He felt the heat rise to his face at he reached for his pants and slipped them on quickly. He coughed uncomfortably.

“Francisco-dono, I have the remedy.” The maid said, placing it on the bedside table. There was a lot. I must have gotten drunk... very drunk...

Hushed names escape lips; a slurred “Your beautiful,” follows...

“Thank you, Christa.” Francisco said, and hazarded a glance into his occupied bedroom. The maid bowed and closed the door. The blushed worked it's way back to Francisco's face, as he avoided Curio's eye. “You drank a lot.” The blond man explained.

Just as his companion, Curio couldn't bring himself to meet the other's eyes. “The pounding migraine is proof enough...” Not to mention these... flashes...

Clothes become too much; their owners search to remove them...

“The loss of the two of them is still hard on us, I suppose.” Francisco said, wandering into the bedroom, sitting on the opposite side of the grand bed.

Curio nodded, wiping his mouth of the downed remedy. “Yes. The Lady Juliet especially...” He sighed, looking at the cup in between his hands.

“Did you love her?”

“I did. She was so strong, and courageous. But she never met her full potential. Not until she met him. Met Romeo.” Curio said.

Francisco made a thump behind him, as he lay flat across the bed.

“Such grace and power with words... It was hard not to see her as a sister.” The eyebrows of the one behind him lifted without his notice. Ugh, I wonder how much I did drink...

Clothes forgotten on the floor, heated skin pressed flush...

Curio followed Francisco's suit, stretching across the length of the bed. He closed his eye, running a hand through his hair. He looked over at the blond man he mistook for an angel. “Hey... Do you... Remember...”

“Everything. I was not so liberal with my alcohol intake as you were, Cu-ri-o.” Despite the teasing tone, Francisco's face flushed red again. What did I do?

Lips trailed down pale skin, excited gasps urging them forward to a much more tender area. Gasps turned to moans until both were sure to be heard...

At this, Curio sat upright again, as he had merely minutes ago. “Did I...” His face was bright red.

Francisco curled over onto his side. “Yes.”

Curio leapt up, racing around to stand in front of the man he had violated under alcohol's vile influence. “I'm so dreadfully sorry! Francisco, if you can ever...” A pale finger pressed against his lips.

“Fool. I was sober. You were not.” He said simply.

Curio's mind was groggy. It didn't connect. “That changes nothing! I should not have let my emotions hold so much sway...!” Another pale finger.

“Twice the fool. I had my judgement fully intact. I knew what was happening.” Francisco's face fell at this. Does that mean he...

“Curio!!” a melodic voice moaned, as lips sucked at the throat from which the voice resonated. Strong fingers entangled themselves in lush, blond hair...

Curio looked at the shamefaced, but entirely beautiful man before him, and smiled. “I should not have taken advantage of your weakened state. I should be the one to ask forgiveness. I let my emotions cloud my judgement. I did not take your feelings into account.” Francisco said, not meeting Curio's eye.

The man cupped the blond's chin, bringing auburn eyes to meet a golden one. Curio crushed the current Grand Duke of Neo Verona's lips against his own, wrapping his arms around the still sitting body and picking him up. When air became lacking, Francisco looked at him worriedly. “Are you sure? Is the medicine getting to you?” He asked, searching for a sign of hesitance in the other's face.

The brunette kissed the one he was holding a second time. “I love you, Francisco. Never doubt that.” He gave the man a squeeze, being sure to promise himself that he would never let go.

Exhausted bodies lay beside one another, breathing heavily, but content in the other's arms. The sweet kiss shared was nothing like the passionate ones shared previously. “I love you, Curio...” one voice whispered.

“I love you too, Francisco.” the other answered.

END.