Somewhere Safe To Bury My Bones

...

David's eyes fluttered toward consciousness at the sound of running water, a resonance that was becoming more and more homey, but it turned off when he managed to blink away the blear that ate away at the outskirts of his vision. There was nothing particularly interesting about the ceiling, its cream stippled texture that always greeted him upon waking up in his earthbound form, but he couldn't say the same about the mourning doves and every other defanged, little critter outside the curtained window that burst open the novelty of morning—its timeless glow. They were there to remind him that it was a new day, and he suddenly remembered that the mattress underneath him that seemed to hug his broad, unclad physique was not his, but it was much better than his own. He smiled at the thought. He inhaled deeply when he stretched his limbs, letting out a content groan as he relaxed his muscles. The air in the room was also different, always. Untainted. Balmy. Lighter. It embraced every inch of him, and made his heart feel weightless and warm every-time.

He was surprised at how well-rested he felt, considering how late it was when he finally did drift away last night. In the post-coital haze, the smell of consummation and emissions still suspended. The air then permeated with overtones of sensuality, rather than absolute sexuality. Underneath the sprawl of his love, just like the cocoon of blankets around him. The door of the bathroom suddenly creaked open, and from inside it emerged Roger. David saw how the steam danced and swirled in the air after escaping, adding to his allure as Roger walked into the room wearing absolutely nothing but a towel in one hand.

"Morning, sleepyhead," said Roger as he scrubbed his short, brunette mane dry with the towel.

David smiled widely at his nakedness.

"Good morning," he responded fondly with a lingering husk, because it was a indeed a good morning if he got to wake up in this particular bed to such a sight before him. He sat up a tad to lean on his elbow as he eyed the other's body with wonted interest. He'd never get bored of admiring the dips and contours and ripples of vein and muscle. How...delicious it all was.

Roger went over to his main dresser, letting the towel drop carelessly to the carpeted floor. Nothing else was said for a moment as he opened the first drawer and rummaged through it. The room was filled with his quiet rustles, little whispers of intimate sincerity, all the while with David tracing the expanse of pale, smooth, sweet and salty skin before him. Which he still could not believe was all his.

"I keep putting it off, but...I really need to buy more underwear," Roger blurted, pulling David out of his love-struck daydream. "I go through this all the time."

"Go through what?" he asked, now focused on the words coming out of Roger's mouth.

"Getting frustrated over not being able to find underwear. I mean, there has to be at least... At least one..."

"Mm. Check the other drawers."

Roger listened to him, closing the drawer and going straight for the fourth one because he knew that he had nothing but trousers and shirts in the second and third. He liked to be organized in that way. He bent over, hopeful and letting his hands unbury the contents in the drawer as they pleased. David tilted his head to the side, eyeing a more intimate crevice, smiling again as his attention was drawn back to Roger's body. What a show he was putting on for David.

"Check the fifth drawer," murmured David distantly.

"Nothing but socks in that one," Roger replied, standing back up again with his hands on his hips. "...Among other things," he muttered quietly.

David giggled a bit, "No need to keep secrets; I already know what's in there."

"Dave," Roger warned in a neutral tone.