"Try to reason about love, and you will lose your reason."
Anton Chekhov

Des let out a contented sigh as he kissed along Michael's shoulder blades. Michael was lying on his stomach, head turned away from Des as he caught a quick, post-coital nap. It was a rare afternoon where both of them had been free, and they'd decided to take full advantage by falling into Michael's bed.

"This is very, very nice," Des mumbled against the curve of Michael's shoulder. "I love you, Michael."

"Love you too, Des," Michael muttered sleepily, shifting a little as the alarm clock on the nightstand began to beep.

Des frowned, watching his boyfriend reach out and shut off the alarm. "What's that for?" he asked curiously as Michael stretched and slid out of bed.

"It's time for my Treatment," Michael said simply as he reached for his boxers.
Des blinked a little... )
"Sometimes someone can mean so much to you, that not even the truth can change your mind."

[Takes place immediately after this]

Sucker punched by the truth )

[Peter/Michael/Thatcher is [livejournal.com profile] spongetastic and is used with permission <3]
Photo prompt

Desmond, when he was asleep (and quite honestly, most of the time when he was awake, as well), didn’t know the meaning of the words “personal space.” More often than not, Gabriel would wake up to his boyfriend’s comatose body draped across him in some fashion. He’d never really shared a bed with someone so clingy before, but Gabriel found that the longer Des and he slept in the same bed, the more he got used to it. On the nights when he stayed at his own apartment, Gabriel had surprised himself by being unable to sleep because he didn’t have the comforting weight of his lover against his body.

The same lack of sleep had plagued Desmond as well, but it wasn’t something that either of them would have to worry about ever again. They were settling into bed on their first night in their new apartment together, and Gabriel grinned as he felt the mattress dip as Desmond crawled into the bed. Gabriel felt an arm slip around his waist and couldn’t stop the smile that played across his face as Desmond curled up against his back.

“So,” he said quietly, his hand moving down to cover Desmond’s, which rested against his stomach.

Desmond smiled and placed a soft kiss on the curve of Gabriel’s shoulder. “So.”
'Here we are, in our own apartment...' )


Desmond Molloy

September 2011

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