Scars

Christmas - Craig's favorite time of the year.

Craig knew it. Ronnie knew it. Everyone knew it. The ETF singer was always exuberant with excitement. He posted all sorts of pictures as they put up lights, and the Christmas tree, and then the tree with the gifts under it, anything he could think of to get in the spirit.

He was actually rather adorable.

Ronnie found it hard to believe that that bright, light-hearted, almost child-like man was the same one curled next to him. Craig's face was blank in his sleep, although occasionally his eyelashes fluttered as he dreamed. Ronnie sighed softly against Craig's neck, watching as the younger male shifted, murmuring in his sleep. Slowly he ran his hand over his boyfriend's heavily pregnant stomach. Their baby.

He or she was going to be beautiful, Ronnie knew it, and not because of him. Craig was the gorgeous one, to Ronnie. His hair was a dark curtain, although currently it was ruffled and messy; strands of it fell across his forehead, shading closed eyes. His eyelashes were long, framing his cheekbones, and his eyes were the same shade of brown as Ronnie's own. His jaw was smooth, feminine. His lips were full, parted slightly now as he breathed. He shivered slightly in his sleep from the cold; Ronnie slid both arms around him, nuzzling his neck.

His body was slender, lithe, and when he moved, Ronnie could feel the muscles rippling under his skin. Except for his hips. His hips were a little wider than usual as he approached his due date. Still - every part of him was perfect, to Ronnie, from head to toe, inside and outside.

Ronnie's attention was drawn by his scars. The one above his eyebrow. A surfboard - Ronnie snorted. How they'd ever gotten away with that pathetic excuse was beyond him. No. Craig had told him the story a while back, but Ronnie could remember every word, every tear that slipped down those smooth cheeks.

"It was Monte, Ronnie, he hit me - he slammed me into the counter. I'm scared, I don't want to go back, please Ronnie, don't make me go back!"

Just thinking about it made Ronnie's blood boil. Craig had been so terrified, so upset. To Ronnie - well. The things Ronnie thought about it probably shouldn't be said out loud.

Ronnie moved on to the ones a little closer to home. The long scratches down his back. Ronnie noted with a prickle of satisfaction that while they had healed, they were still a lot paler than the rest of the skin. He'd definitely left Craig with something to remember. He reveled for a moment in the memory of Craig's cries of ecstasy, begging Ronnie for more as he was fucked, blindfolded, hands tied... Ronnie smirked, fingers tracing the scars.

And then the ones that made him sad. The little white lines criss-crossing Craig's wrists. He'd been devastated to find the love of his life laying on the floor, bleeding into the carpet. He'd done all he could to wrap Craig's wrists, ripped and torn down to the bone. The following three days had nearly driven him to madness, and when Craig finally woke up again, that was the first time Ronnie could remember crying.

Now the only thing left was thin scars.

A memory.

Now, as if on cue, Craig stirred, yawning. "Why're you still up?" The younger man asked, brown hues meeting Ronnie's. Ronnie shook his head.

"Just thinking." He murmured, leaning down to press a slow kiss to Craig's lips. Craig sighed softly, eyelashes fluttering. "I love you," He added.

"Love you too," Craig breathed. "Go to sleep, you need it as much as I do."

"Alright. G'night, doll."

"Night, Ronnie."