I Bet You Think This Song Is About You

8. always used to wake up sore

It was odd that the two of them fell asleep, but that's what Trent and Marilyn did; no staying awake and driving home. Instead, Marilyn's arms were wrapped around Trent, and Trent was curled up on top of the desk, Marilyn curled around him, his face buried in Trent's hair. Trent smelled like unisex shampoo and tequila, a smell that Marilyn hoped he could get to know more intimately.

Trent enjoyed the feeling of waking up with Marilyn's arm around his chest, the warmth of his body wrapped around his own. He felt distinctly safe for the first time since he was maybe 12. Everyone had left Trent before he could figure out what to say to them, but here he was; wrapped in Marilyn's arms like something precious. Still warm from being fucked like something beautiful, Trent decided he enjoyed the feeling of being loved by Marilyn's hands. Slowly, he ran a finger over the table, finding the places where his own nails had dug into the wood.

The feeling of Trent's upper arm tensing slightly awoke Marilyn, who adjusted his face from buried in Trent's dark hair to resting atop his cheek. He placed a hand wordlessly over Trent's, squeezing the smaller hand inside his bigger one. Trent waited with bated breath for Marilyn to ask him how he'd slept, or ask a worried question about how he enjoyed the sex, but the other man didn't. Instead, fingers travelled lovingly up the inside of his forearm, up to his shoulder, to his cheek, and Marilyn tipped Trent's face to the side, softly locking lips with him.

He doesn't need to ask me, because we're lovers. Trent realized, he doesn't need to ask me because he knows that it's okay.

That made Trent feel warm inside and he kissed Marilyn back, softly nipping the bigger man's bottom lip, slipping his tongue into his mouth. Trent sighed out and turned around in Marilyn's arms, kissing his lips sweetly, the warmth traveling between them making both of them feel at home.

"You're beautiful..." Marilyn spoke, cupping Trent's face, looking into his eyes, "Want to give you roses."

Trent raised an eyebrow in an "Oh?"

Marilyn nodded, tracing a finger around Trent's lips, "I want to put them here..."

Trent whined a little, and Marilyn's hand was on his ass, slipping into his pants, fingers tracing his sore entrance gently, "And here..." Marilyn continued.

"God, Brian." Trent hissed, trying to squirm away because his body's natural reaction to being touched like that was to get all hard again, and he'd just woken up, as well as being very sore there.

"Don't squirm..." Marilyn kissed Trent's lips wetly, teasing the tip of his finger against Trent's tender hole, feeling Trent get hard against him,"You'd be so beautiful adorned with roses... they're the only thing near as beautiful as you."

Trent whined, burying his face in Marilyn's shoulder, and Marilyn slipped a finger inside of Trent's sore warmth, pressing inside immediately against the spot he'd found yesterday. Trent jerked forward, his body rubbing against Marilyn's; Marilyn's hand controlling him completely, his body completely given to the man he loved so much.

"I'd like to see a rose in your cock..." Marilyn whispered filthily, and Trent sighed, pushing down on Marilyn's finger, letting him begin to slip another finger inside him.

"Don't you talk?" Marilyn inquired, and Trent let out a tired little whine.

Trent squeezed his eyes shut and pictured Marilyn's concept; him filled up with roses. He wondered dimly how long Marilyn had thought of that, then he was losing it, his hole filled with Marilyn's long guitarist-like fingers, and he was cumming, and it was in his pants, and he didn't feel bad, he simply felt loved and so very sore.

"I do talk..." Trent whispered softly, clutching Marilyn's body close to him, childishly burying his face in Marilyn's chest.

"Good." Came Marilyn's deeper voice, and the feeling of his arms wrapping around Trent's back was relieving and so wonderful.

"I love you." Trent held his breath, risking it.

"Mm..." Marilyn responded warmly, fingers burying in Trent's hair.

"I said, I love you." Trent said again, his heart beating too fast; couldn't Marilyn feel that?

"Yeah... Love you too." Marilyn said, fingers continuing to play with Trent's hair.

Marilyn's hands were always moving on Trent's body. Trent felt loved by his hands, and he hoped it was true.