Wonder Boy

His hands caressed my body in just the gentlest ways while we laid there together. I liked sleeping in the same bed with this man, if not because I love him then it was for his rough hands. They tended to wander from my ribs, down to my hips and they'd just rest there. Allan always told me that he loved my hips but I never understood his logic to it. I felt his soft, full lips touch the back of my shoulder and he whispered, "You awake, babe?"

"What are you talking about? I didn't get a wink of sleep," I grinned, though he couldn't see my face. My back was to his and he was pressed hard against me, only my pajama pants separating me from his naked body. The blanket, unfortunately, covered him up to his waist. I let my hand find his and I laced my fingers on top of his. His hands were much bigger than mine, but something about holding them just seemed right.

"Not one bit?"

"Nope," I said in a cutesy manner and lightly shook my head. He then leaned up a little and placed his lips to my short blond locks. He'd always loved my hair, he'd told me once. I love the color, the length, the way you constantly flip it out of your eyes, I heard his voice in my head. But there are times when I lay next to you at night, and the moon seems to hit your hair just right... It's beautiful. I blushed at the memory. Allan had slept over at my apartment many of times, content with just cuddling or even getting a little more friendly, but last night had been the night I gave myself to him, gave myself to anyone.

"Face me," he pleaded, his accent thicker than usual. It was a command -and normally I do not respond to commands- but there was such urgency in his voice that I just couldn't resist in him. I roll myself over and my hazel eyes meet his blue-green ones. His beautiful lips suddenly curved into a romantic smile and I took a brief second to admire his beauty. Pale skin, short dark hair, but a body like a God. Perhaps he was a God. He was seemingly flawless. He let his free hand run up the length of my body and rested it on my cheek, the other staying lovingly on my hip. I smiled down at him. I wasn't taller, he just was at a weird angle in the bed. "You know I love you, right?"

"I know, Allan," I said. "I love you too. With all my heart."

"Du er den eneste jeg stoler," he whispered, his native tongue betraying him. He'd taught me some Danish in the eight months we've been together so I knew what he said translated to something like, "You're the only one I trust." It took me a moment to compose my reply, but I felt it would be sweet of me to speak his language.

"Jeg vil aldrig såre dig. Jeg vil have dig til at være min for evict." I will never hurt you. I want you to be mine forever.

"I al evighed?" For eternity?, he asked. I nodded and run my hand down his chest. and let it rest on his abs.

"Even longer, if possible." Allan grinned in agreement and tilted his head up, lips puckered. I laughed softly and bent my head down and pressed my lips to his as hard as I could. He pushed back against them, his lips warm and soft. Allan was everything I could wish for, all I could hope for, and I could ever need. I loved him with every fiber of my being.

"Want me to cook you breakfast?" He asked excitedly after we pulled away. I started to protest, but he stopped me, "I do not want to hear it. Just tell me if you want waffles or pancakes, babe."

I thought for a moment, biting my lip. His big blue-green eyes watched me intently with a loving curiosity. "Pancakes."

"I'm on it," he said and climbed out of bed. I put my hands behind my head, resting back against the pillow and watched as my boyfriend and his cute naked butt headed toward the kitchen. Allan Hyde was the perfection to my imperfections, the flawless to my flaws, and the antidote to my poisons. He truly was a God in that sense. He kept me grounded, sane, and wanted. I never wanted him to go away and I'm inclined to believe he wouldn't.

My life could not possibly get any better than this -I didn't want it too- and I was absolutely sure of that now.