009

Blossom

Hopeless. Alec examines the word with practiced indifference, turning it again in his mind like worn pages in a book kept bound with little more than adhesive and string. With eyes closed and Grey sprawled across his chest (unintentionally encompassing even in sleep), he can almost pretend that he doesn't believe everything they do is an exercise in futility.

Grey stirs against him, lips moving without sound against Alec's shoulder and thigh slipping across Alec's lap. A warm finger brushes the pinched skin between his brows.

"Stop that," Grey says, voice sluggish.

With a sigh, Alec flips them over. He rolls his hips, relishing the way Grey's body arches off the bed, and watches the slow flush blossom across Grey's skin.