Ignis Fatuus
“And you’re just in reach,
When you and sleep escape me”
[“Cloudbursting” ~ Kate Bush]
Daniel shivered, sleepily. Reaching down with one hand, he dragged the blanket up along the length of his body from where it had pooled against his knees, and tried to decipher what had disturbed his sleep enough to wake him from dreams of pink scented comfort. His body languid, slowly recovering its heat, he lay still, the soft warmth of the blanket against the curve of his chin, breathing softly as he listened to the sounds of the early morning.
Somewhere, on the other side of the bedroom window, he could hear the gentle stirrings of the dawn chorus, a new day starting with all of its problems and trials. Outside, Daniel suspected, lay the cause of his wakefulness, but as he drowsily blinked open his eyes, rubbed away the sleep that lingered, he knew that it didn’t matter.
He didn’t resent the fact that his slumber had been disturbed – couldn’t when it afforded him such a rare opportunity to observe his still sleeping partner.
Karl lay sprawled beside him on the wide, expensive mattress, soft light striking the curving planes of his back and gently illuminating his profile as Daniel looked at him. It wasn’t often that he was permitted such a chance to lazily trail his gaze along the familiar path of Karl’s body in repose – usually, it was Karl who woke first, who entered each day with as much noise as he could muster in order to drag Daniel from his dreams. As he lay, quiet and still, Daniel wondered if positions were ever reversed – if Karl ever lay tranquilly upon their bed and watched him sleep. If he ever turned his head and allowed his gaze to linger upon the slope of Daniel’s own profile and wondered at the thoughts, the dreams that caused soft eyelids to twitch and jump and small, secretive smiles to curve the very corners of sweetly parted lips. Looking at Karl, watching him sleep, Daniel hoped that he did.
As he ran slow eyes across his lover’s reposed body, Daniel realised that there was something about him that spoke of infinite peace. Karl’s eyes were softly shuttered, their lids smoothed beneath the occasional twitch, his mouth was relaxed, lips lax and slightly parted as calm breath passed between them. He looked entirely content, Daniel thought; content within his own skin.
Daniel had always thought Karl serenely attractive – there was just something about him that had appealed to the somewhat abrasive young guitarist all those years earlier when they had first encountered one another. Karl had been the oldest member of the entourage, the guiding light in arguments that had spilled over into furiously spat words and bitterly flung punches – he had always been the one to whom they all went when they were homesick, tired, overwrought from having to work such long days for, ultimately, very little payoff. Daniel had liked that. He had seen a calmness within Karl that had warmed him from within, reminded him of home when in far flung countries, and created a courage within him to accept the hand that Fate seemed to have dealt him.
When Savage Garden had ended, amidst furious acrimony and acrimonious debate, they had all been stunned. The touring band had seemed cast adrift, no one certain as to where they might wash up – and Daniel had worried for them all. He had watched as Lee had nervously accepted a contract to freelance for Darren in his solo career, and he had observed the arrogant brashness of Ben’s determination to carve a niche for himself as a wannabe rock star. He had stood on the sidelines of the backing singers lives and wished them well as they’d strutted off to recording contracts of their own, or – like Lee – further work with former employers. He had felt guilty, and he had worried about them all, knowing that – of them all – only his future was truly settled.
Daniel had his production company to fall back into; his back-up-plan should Fate turn out to be cruel instead of kind, left ticking over beneath the capable, watchful eyes of his oldest brother and secure enough for him to become more than just a figurehead upon the demise of a band that he had worked so hard to keep moving, never stagnant behind Darren’s ideas of grandeur. He had worried about everyone else, however, with one notable exception.
Karl.
Daniel had known, from late night conversations over bottles of chilled lager and through smoke-hazed rooms, that Karl was tired of the relentless life of touring. He knew that Karl longed to settle down, build a home, grow old in one place as opposed to in a tour bus that constantly moved from one city to another. He knew that Karl wanted domesticity, security, all the things that the younger members of the entourage sneered at and considered old-fashioned.
He knew, because it had been a dream that they had shared.
Smiling, Daniel blinked and drew his attention away from his memories of a time long distant, of a time before he had hesitantly suggested to Karl that they explore boundaries a little further than simple friendship, that they try to see whether or not each could fulfil the other’s dream of stability. He looked across the short expanse between them, felt a soft pang of gratitude that the night had been so hot that Karl had kicked the sheets away from his body whilst they slept, leaving him open and vulnerable beneath an adoring gaze.
A tangle of hair was settled upon the pillow that cushioned Karl’s head, a single tuft glued to his forehead in a way that seemed oddly reminiscent to Daniel of a question mark. He nestled his cheek against the pillow beneath his own head, sighed softly as he looked at Karl, wondered at the fact that his head barely left any impression upon the pillow – thought about how it seemed as though his lover’s head hovered above the cool, crisp cotton as though semi-embarrassed to leave any trace of his presence. Truly the sleep of an innocent, Daniel thought and chuckled quietly to himself.
Karl’s mouth moved beneath his gaze, opened and closed once, then twice. There was a soft snort and a puff of air, a wrinkle of his nose that indicated he was dreaming deeply, and Daniel found himself wondering at the images that danced inside the mind currently shut off to his inquisitive thoughts. What silent words did Karl’s lax lips shape? What events unfolded behind the closed, yet darting eyes? Daniel looked at the gentle smile defined by Karl’s lips, and he thought that the dream was pleasant – no demons to haunt the serenity of Karl’s slumber, he thought, no dark nights for his soul. Simply the sleep of someone secure in the love that was felt for him.
He couldn’t help but wonder if Karl dreamt of him. Was he the source of the beautiful smile that curved the corners of the mouth that would press firm against his own, last thing at night before they toppled into exhausted slumber? Was it Daniel whom Karl saw in his dreams, his body that he felt beneath fingers that restlessly twitched against the curve of the pillow and mattress? A warm glow suffused Daniel’s body as he wondered whether Karl’s mind was lost in re-enactments of the times when they had made love within the cottony womb of sheets and blankets? Did Karl remember the way in which he held Daniel, caressed his skin, thoroughly entranced, bewitched and possessed him? Did he recall the words that Daniel said to him without fail, the way in which Karl’s name was choked upon his lips when he climaxed?
Did he remember Daniel’s love for him in sleep as well as wakefulness?
The love that consumed Daniel for the man who lay beside him was complex, combined amongst so many others – friendship, respect, adoration… desire. On any given day, Daniel could feel any one of those emotions, or all of them, one after the other, sweeping through his mind and body like a tsunami strikes against the shore. He loved him, would never claim otherwise – would never wish to.
Lost in dreams, Karl shifted against the bed, the motion of his body drawing Daniel’s relentless gaze from his face to his chest, instilling within him a need to press his hand against the skin, to place his lips around one nipple, suckle and cajole it, roll it against his tongue, bite it gently. Daniel ached to rest his head against Karl’s chest, to feel the steady cadence of his heartbeat beneath his ear in a beautiful symmetry of sound that not even the most talented of musicians could ever hope to replicate. His gaze shifted lower, drawn inexplicably to muscular thighs, to legs crooked lazily, haphazardly strewn in such a way that their muscles were unconsciously accentuated, their shape defined. If Daniel stretched out he could reach them with genuine ease, could run his hands up and down the length of Karl’s thighs and feel the bristle of coarse hair, the sleep-warm texture of his skin.
Shifting lower, a secretive smile twitched at the corners of Daniel’s mouth as he touched his vision against the dormant cock that lay against the curve of one thigh. Pushing himself up onto one elbow, Daniel tilted his head as he regarded his lover’s groin, contemplated how lethargic it seemed in comparison to how it had been, only hours before, when it had created such intense feelings of pleasure inside of him. He smiled lazily, a dimple appearing at the corner of his mouth, as he remembered the look upon Karl’s face, the expression that had flooded his eyes and smile with heat, as he had pushed inside of Daniel, until his pelvis touched the clay-smooth camber of buttocks.
Daniel remembered how Karl had raised himself above his prone, panting body, and pulled in his stomach muscles so that every stroke drove him deeper inside. He considered, almost absently, the stirring inside his belly sleek and warm with slow-awakening need, the way in which Karl had threaded his arms behind him, pulled him close, an embrace that reverberated with passion, love and adoration. He remembered, too, the way in which Karl had slowed his pace even when Daniel had known he wanted only to increase it. His smile gentled as his gaze shifted back to his sleeping lover’s face, echoed with tenderness as he thought about how Karl held himself back from the precipice of orgasm until Daniel had covered his own belly with salt-tang stickiness, and then about the delight in warm brown eyes when he sobbed out his name amidst words of love.
He remembered it all – little memories that Daniel supposed he might not otherwise have thought about, had such an opportunity for quiet repose presented itself. As he stretched out one gentle hand to smooth the soft furrows that creased Karl’s dreaming forehead, Daniel thought, too, of how Karl looked when he allowed himself to climax, when he gave into the vice like grip of desire inside his belly – the short, panting breaths that ghosted against the sweat-damp curve of Daniel’s neck and shoulder, the tight grip in which he held onto him, the tautness of his arms increasing the closer he came to orgasm. He chuckled, softly, when he remembered the way in which Karl’s strokes sped up towards the end and about how, virtually at the point of climax, he slowed almost to a stop and finished with long, slow deliberate strokes, a look of fierce concentration upon his face as the orgasm hit...
Karl was, Daniel knew, a man who took his pleasures seriously.
A soft shiver cascaded along the length of Daniel’s spine, cocooned beneath the careful warmth of the sheets as he thought about how it felt to have Karl inside of him as he felt the short pulses of heat strike deep within him. How it felt to see his face, eyes closed in rapture, features contorted with a deep-seated pleasure of what they were creating between them. How it felt to watch his lover sleep, peaceful and untainted by the pressures of the coming day.
If he were being honest with himself, Daniel couldn’t imagine his life without Karl there to share in it. He knew that, perhaps one day, there would come a dawn where he would wake to find Karl missing from his life – Daniel wasn’t naïve enough to suppose that anything could last forever – but he strove, quickly, to push such thoughts from his mind, focused instead upon the reasons why he had fallen in love with Karl, why the emotions had done little more than intensify the longer they spent together.
Whilst many of Daniel’s friends, relations were shallow to the point of obscurity, he had fallen for Karl’s mind before he had ever contemplated the pleasure of his body. Karl was enigmatic, he thought, contained such diffidence, presented self-effacement until it seemed nothing more splendid than an art form. Yet beneath a confidence and belief that no one but Daniel was ever made privy to, there was an unusual serenity, a man who would accept whatever life chose to throw at him and deal with the consequences of his own actions. Daniel knew that it wasn’t his ability that Karl had ever doubted, but his capability to prove himself to others – and that was why Daniel had fallen in love with him. He knew from past experience, that the most attentive lover in all of the world was still useless if he possessed no comprehension of his partner, no understanding of the things that drove Daniel on to achieve all that he had done.
He smiled sadly as he remembered the relationships that had caused him to draw such a conclusion, remembered the bitter recriminations when he had pointed out that the most perfect lover in the cosmos was still useless if he had no care whatsoever for anyone’s satisfaction but his own.
It had been Karl who had picked up the pieces of Daniel’s trampled heart, carefully, cautiously fixed him back together. He had been sweet and he had genuinely cared about making Daniel smile, laugh, feel happiness once more – he had known what it was that, deep down, Daniel had wanted and, obtusely, he had wanted to give it to him. Daniel knew that Karl had been in love with him for years longer than he cared to contemplate, had discussed the missed opportunities and the wasted chances to each find happiness together – but had listened and been mollified when Karl had pointed out that he had waited until neither would subordinate their own desires to please the other, but until they were ready to integrate them into a whole. That way, Daniel had realised, two became one, experiences were shared, a partnership between equals created. It was everything that Daniel had ever dreamt of, and he was both gratified and relieved that it had been Karl who had possessed the temerity to give it to him.
Their relationship was far from perfect, however, despite how Daniel liked to romanticise it within his brain. He chuckled again, the sound rich and low, subconsciously hoping to disturb Karl’s rest in order that he might place his lips against the drowsy bend of his lips and whisper his love to him. He knew that Karl had power over him – was capable of making him cry, of drawing furious, miserable tears from his eyes, of raising guilt inside of him whenever he behaved in manners reminiscent of the first man he had loved. They would rage at one another over the most trivial of things – who had left the milk sitting out on the side in the sun, or which of them had forgotten to replace the toothpaste – but it didn’t matter. The rough came with the smooth, and love such as theirs was built around reality as opposed to romanticised fiction.
Resting his head against the soft pillows once more, Daniel scooted closer to where Karl lay sleeping, his eyes fluttering closed as he draped one arm across his lover’s chest and felt him acquiesce to his presence against his side. He smiled as he thought about how Karl was a lover he would never betray, who slept the sleep of an innocent, a beautiful man in his prime. Daniel knew that he would give everything that he possessed, even his own life, if it would make Karl happy, but that Karl would never expect to take anything from him. He knew that Karl only asked for a share of his time, just as he only ever asked for a part of Karl’s.
As sleep reclaimed him once more, Daniel hoped that it would be enough...