Title: “Touch”
Author: Kelly (bloody_adorable@yahoo.com)
Pairing: Connor/Murphy
Summary: I hate summaries. Just read.
Disclaimer: Don’t own ‘em, don’t pretend that I do. I just borrow them from time to time.
Music: “Deora Ar Mo Chroi” by Enya (www.enya.com)
Ba dheas an lá go óiche
Na glórtha binne I mo thaobh
‘S aoibhneas I gach áit gan gruaim
Áthas ar mo chroí go deo
He-a-ro
He-a-o-ro
Ma shiúlaim ó na leatha beo
An ghrian ‘s an ghealach ar mo chúl
Níl uaim ach smaointe ó mo chaoil
Deora ar mo chroí go brón
He-a-ro
He-a-ro
--Enya
I lay next to you as you sleep, staring over at you, amazed at how beautiful you are in the moonlight. God knew what he was doing when he made you. He made you the object of every woman’s dream, of some men, and of even your brother. God knew what he was doing when he made you. So, why would he then say it was wrong for me to love you?
I look down at your hand, as it lay relaxed upon the covers. Your fingers are long, strong and straight. A half-moon shape decorates each nail, near the cuticle. I almost smile, remembering how, just moments ago, your hands touched me, held me in the way that I’ve grown to know, trust and adore. We kept as quiet as we could, not wanting our voices to carry outside the hotel room. But as cautious as I tried to be, I couldn’t stop myself from moaning against your kiss, repeating your name again and again, begging you for your touch.
Your touch is my weakness. It’s strong and soft, not fleeting, not frightened, not tentative, not hurried. There have been many times that I’ve been angry, furious at something you’ve said or done. Each time, all you’ve had to do is reach out and touch me, whether it be with your hands or your lips. You’ve gotten your way more than once by using your touch. You know that I easily come undone when your hand brushes across my skin. I feel like I’m drowning, like I’ve just run a mile and still need to catch my breath. You seem to be able to read my mind, to determine where I need to feel you, exactly how much pressure I want. It’s almost as if we not only once shared a womb, but always a mind as well.
I do my best to come close to the intensity that I feel from merely your touch. I’m not sure that I can compare, but when I hear your voice rise to your throat, saying my name and asking me for more, I know that I’ve come close.
In the sleeping moonlight, you stir. You turn on your side, unknowingly wrapping your arm around me. You pull me closer, your forehead resting near my chin. Your hand brushes across my lower back, making me close my eyes and breathe in your scent. I hope you know how much I love you. I hope you know that you are my reason for being, my one worth fighting for.
I know how you feel about me. I can sense it in your fingers, your arms, your lips. It’s in your eyes when you look at me, it’s in your smile when you laugh with me, and it’s in your touch when you make love to me.
I am yours, forever, if you’ll continue to have me, if you’ll continue to touch me like you do now.
~The End~
