Work Text:
“Cyrus... It's alright, it's okay, Cyrus…”
Cyrus’s world was night. Blackness moved with gentle, swirling colors that kept his eyelids heavy. The dusting of hair over Giovanni’s chest was soft enough to let him lay against his sturdy muscles and bathe in his glow, shining to him like his very own moonlight. Warmth seeped into his skin, deceptively gentle hands caressed his sides, a strong heart sang a gentle rhythm to him from behind a set of ribs. Laying encased in such comfort and safety, Cyrus opened himself to Giovanni and let his words flow into him.
Giovanni spoke between placing kisses on Cyrus’s forehead. "Cyrus...” he murmured to himself. “Cyrus... You wear the moonlight like a gown, you're absolutely ethereal...” His praises went straight through Cyrus and warmed him deep within his bones. The dissident part of his brain tried to dredge up some blood- the distortion, giratina, his parents, his poor rotom- but the thoughts were engulfed by the fog of his mind, fading away to never be seen again. All he could feel was Giovanni, gentling and kissing him until the pleasure made him dizzy.
The tips of those sly fingers found the highest point of Cyrus's spine. He squirmed against the skin trailing down his back, giving it the same attention as his forehead. He shivered as fingernails gently brushed his skin and slid down his side. Giovanni never stopped murmuring Cyrus's name to himself, rolling the letters around his tongue like rock sugar. Even just the sound of his lover's name alone was candy to him. "Cyrus..."
And why?
Giovanni had cracked Cyrus open like a cloyster. Everything that Cyrus thought he was fell apart right there on the bed and crumbled to dust in the blankets. Giovanni peeled his skin away until his whole body was raw, and he pressed his lips against his vulnerability itself and told him that no force of heaven, earth, or hell could ever hurt him again. Not on his watch.
Cyrus couldn't feel anything. His nerves left with his skin. All there was was Giovanni.
Moonlight pouring like crystal water. Pouring across his tanned skin. Seeping into the bedding. Covering Cyrus's hair. Swirling on the floor.
The thin sheet wrapped around Cyrus's body. Embracing the breeze. The thicker blankets trapping the heat against them. The orange and red heat that glowed from Giovanni.
Wind that the blankets kept them safe from howling outside the windows. Shaking the branches of the trees. Tapping them against the glass.
The smell of old linen; loneliness. Undercut by the special smell of Giovanni's arms.
And...
Cyrus gently pressed his face against Giovanni's jaw. Like he'd read his mind, Giovanni cupped his cheek and kissed him.
He opened his mouth as soon as Giovanni’s hand found his face. Thin lips pressed against his as Giovanni kissed his lover, gently but deeply. At first, Cyrus kissed him back to satiate his intense love for the man. But as sleep crept in on them, he laid back and allowed himself to be kissed.
This was real. This was all that was real. Cyrus's nerves left with his skin.
All there was was Giovanni.