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“You remind me of sunflowers.”
Their room was golden, the sun nestled itself into the comfort that was them. Warmth radiating from each corner as it wrapped itself around the walls, as if peeking in through the windows to see who was there.
It was Wayne and Bowie, it was always Wayne and Bowie.
“What makes you say that?”
tenderness laced in his words, and his lips and heart were fuzzy from the kisses Bowie previously stole from him as a ‘Good Morning’, but in reality it was always a good morning if Bowie was there to be the caffeine he craved in the early hours of the rising sun.
In return, Wayne stole more of the duvet from Bowie, snuggling into its comfort and cherishing the faint scent of Bowie and a hint of his other half that lingered.
But as of now, the sunlight was hanging low and stripes of gold painted Wayne’s face due to the window panes failing to shield them from the sun. Bowie thought that he resembled Helios.
Bowie was straddling Wayne’s hips with his knees bent as he was nestled in his lap. The covers were falling off of them as it moved in a fluidity of its own in which Wayne nor Bowie seemed to mind, they liked this pace. The slowness in their movements and the way they’d silently worship the other, no words were needed. Their body language alone spoke in complex and languid riddles only the other seemed to understand, as if it were second nature to them at this point.
And it was.
Wayne’s eyes were curious yet relaxed, always having that curious gleam, even when he analysed Bowie, which Bowie found amusing as Wayne already knew everything to Bowie there was, so for him to keep searching, it made Bowie feel seen. Bright green eyes softly widening as they met mischievous brown ones. Wayne’s broad, calloused hands had found solace on Bowie’s thighs as they absently played with a loose thread Wayne had discovered on the hem of Bowie’s silk pyjama bottoms. Wayne’s hands were hot even through his pyjamas, imprinting himself onto Bowie whilst playing with the thread.
Bowie’s hands mapped out Wayne’s body, his fingers tracing the sky of freckles that were situated on his collarbone. The movements must tickle, as Wayne’s breath shudders, a vibration which doesn’t go unnoticed occurs under Bowie’s palm and Bowie can’t help but not hold back his smile.
Bowie nudged Wayne lightly, a small, fond smile on his face before cozying back into the crook of his neck, their limbs are entangled as Bowie draped his arms over Wayne’s shoulders and began peppering soft, intricate kisses all over his face and neck.
“I don’t really know, but you just do.”
Bowie mumbled against Wayne lazily pressing kisses along his jaw. In return, Wayne upturned his chin ever so slightly as a silent admission for Bowie to continue as he whined at the contact. He slowly trailed kisses down his throat until he finally reached the junction of Wayne’s shoulder and neck, Bowie pressed his face into the space, breathing in Wayne.
“I love sunflowers.”
Wayne smiled adoringly as the words rumbled within his chest and tumbled out of his mouth, liquid gold pouring through the half-opened blinds and caressing their faces.
“I love you.”
Bowie traced Wayne’s body with his lips, kissing every part that he adored, which was all of him.
He then kissed the tip of his nose, then his cheeks and chin, and then over the love-marks decorated on his chest and along his neck that Bowie had gifted him the previous night, before kissing the patch of constellations on his left shoulder that was hidden away for only Bowie to see.
“What would Raj be?”
“Raj is currently downstairs making us breakfast, this mornings about us.” Bowie moved his hands to Wayne’s cheeks, carefully tracing the curve of his cheekbones before kissing him chastely as if he were the most precious thing in the world, and in Bowie’s eyes, he was.
Kissing Wayne was like swallowing the sun. Bowie’s surprised that the ice rink Wayne plays on hadn’t of melted yet. His mouth is warm and it warms Bowie from the inside, although Bowie’s eyes are closed he can still feel Wayne smiling into the kiss which makes him kiss him even deeper, he licks the inside of his mouth and their tongues brush together and Wayne can’t help but writhe at the undivided affection he’s receiving.
Bowie shivers, and they break apart as they rest their foreheads together, Wayne heaves out breaths and goes to squeeze Bowie’s hand as a silent ‘I adore you’.
He then moves his hand and grabs onto Bowie’s hair gently, slowly directing him into a kiss as he leans in first this time, ever so carefully, which catches Bowie by surprise, a pleasant one at that as Wayne’s teeth graze over his bottom lip as he sucks on Bowie’s tongue and all Bowie can do is melt.
Bowie wants nothing more than to have some of the sun Wayne must’ve swallowed, and Bowie always gets what he wants.
He caresses Wayne’s face and their noses bump which has them both smiling into each other as he deepens the kiss even further, the sensation of loving Wayne overwhelms him in a way that has warmth settling in his stomach and the moths within Bowie are drawn to the lantern that is Wayne’s soul. He can’t tell if he’s breathing or not anymore, Bowie didn’t think that feeling so breathless could feel so refreshing.
Bowie breaks off the kiss, wrapping his arms around Wayne’s neck loosely as he comes up for air while Wayne whimpers as Bowie was the oxygen his lungs needed.
A second passes as they catch their breath and Wayne smiles hazily and goes back in for a chaste kiss and then Bowie swiftly turns his head, a kiss landing on the corner of his mouth instead. Bowie sniffs the air once, and then twice, as confusion is riddled on his face.
“I think I smell.. burning bacon?”
They both look at each other for a moment, and begin laughing.
“Maybe we can have pancakes for breakfast instead.” Wayne grins and Bowie snorts a laugh. Bowie climbs off of Wayne, and sits on the side of the bed as he slips on his slippers as Wayne clumsily climbs out of bed, heading towards the door.
“I call dibs on the syrup!” Wayne said giddily, about to head out of their bedroom door.
Bowie smiles to himself, his heart and lips full of Wayne. No syrup was needed. this was more than enough.
He stood still for a moment, taking it all in as Wayne walked out of their door, as he himself heads for the door.
“It’s all yours, Wayne.”