xkelasparmakx

Kelas savored the taste and scent of Ekor's release still lingering in his mouth and nose. It wasn't a necessarily pleasant taste and yet Kelas did not want to forget it or see it fade away just yet. It was all a gift—every bit and as he rested against Ekor he also savored his warmth, his strength, the lingering jerks and tremors from his pleasure, the safety of Ekor's limbs wrapped all around him. How incredibly wonderful it felt to be cocooned into another person. It seemed across such a great distance now that Kelas had once pulled away from this dear mans' gentle touch when he had been unused to being handled with care. It was still new—very new. But Kelas nuzzled closer and pressed a gentle kiss to Ekor's shoulder just below the thick scales of his ridge.

He closed his eyes and basked in the nearness and tenderness still in wonder that this was for him.

Was this a normal way to behave after sex or was it a peculiarity of Ekor to want to be so close? Oh, what did it matter? I felt so good to be held at last and Kelas bid his always wondering mind not to question for once.

He untwined one of his arms just long enough to pull the blanket a bit further, taking care not to tug it so far that Ekor's feet would poke out the end and get cold.

Ekor began to speak and Kelas listened intently. He was grateful for the silence that had followed, the unbroken moment to just feel this new closeness, but he was just as grateful to be spoken to. He wanted to talk with Ekor for hours and hours. He wanted to spend so much more time with him than they had to spend this night.

Ekor's nervousness was obvious and there was something endearing about it after how confident he had seemed only moments ago—commanding. Kelas pressed another gentle kiss to the hollow near the base of Ekor's neck, between his collarbones. He had never had a chance to show another man such affection—in fact the desire to do so had never been there in the past besides anything more than a fantasy.

The more Ekor spoke, the more things came into Kelas's mind; things he wanted to say. There was so much. Some of what Ekor expressed confused him a bit and when he asked if he should be forgiven Kelas made a noise of protest but he did not interrupt.

When Ekor faced him Kelas could barely look into his eyes. No one had ever looked at him the way this man was looking at him and it filled him and touched him in places that hurt, and sang, and overflowed. Unable to stop himself his eyes began to leak again. They were wide with wonder though a bit pink from their activities.

“You'll be tired of my crying,” Kelas said, wiping his eyes once, “I'm not upset,” he added quickly, “I'm... I'm so...” he couldn't quite think of a proper word to even begin to describe what he was feeling. There were so many things—all of it at once and just scrambling around in his mind so to try to convey it he pressed his chufa to Ekor's and then pressed himself as close to Ekor as he could and nuzzled his chula.

Ekor deserved a better answer than that after everything he had given to Kelas, and all of his questions, and Kelas wanted desperately to ease the things he was unsure about. It was only a matter of making his mouth work. His throat was a little sore from their activities too but he wanted to say so many things.

“Dear Ekor, my mind is racing. Can you feel my heartbeat?” Kelas asked. "Could you feel how it sped when you said... that you... want more than this one night? Oh, if I was only this night, that is still so much to have and to... to cherish. You have given me... so... so much more than I deserve already. Please don't you dare apologize to me. You've given me...”

He was forced to stop again to try to collect his thoughts. But the number of things Ekor had given to him not only physically but on so many other levels felt too many and some too deep to express just yet. He didn't want to frighten Ekor away. Kelas wiggled a bit, fiddled with the blanket, ran a finger over the stitching and counted the stitches along one square for a moment.

“You have given me so much,” Kelas said at last, “I don't know how I can ever express the depths of my gratitude. I don't mean just... it was much more than... ah. It was beautiful really, and you were wonderful. You guided me to places I've never been and now here you are holding me. Me! How inadequate I was--presenting myself to you with other marks on my body... some of them were my own doing...”

Kelas closed his eyes and while he didn't quite feel ashamed—he supposed he felt too good with Ekor keeping him so close—he did regret that he had not been unmarked, stained by the violence of other men who could never, never compare to this incredible man who was next to him now.

“If you allow me to present myself to you again sometime... I will not be marked by anyone else. I won't disrespect your gift in that way," Kelas said very softly, hoping that Ekor did understand that what he had given to Kelas was indeed a gift.

He remembered one other thing that had been just a bit embarrassing for him and nibbled his lip for a moment before saying more.

“And... I can usually... take much more than a few slaps to my bottom before coming in a hurry. It's just... ah... well. I have been trying my best not to... not to go to... the Regnar. I suppose I was a bit... overeager.”

It was a bit embarrassing to speak of such things but he wanted Ekor to know that he was not the only one who had a few doubts about their performance and now more than ever he felt it very important that he be open with Ekor.

Then his mind circled back around to the question Ekor had asked about their age and it made him laugh.

“As for my age,” Kelas drew a hand through his messy hair where it was liberally striped with the gray, “I can't be that much older than you,” he said dismissively. “I certainly do not consider myself as your elder. The lovely silver makes me appear older than I am. But if it mattered to me perhaps I would have expressed it before now? And forgive me for laughing but... I do find it amusing that you're concerned now with what might be improper. Look at me, Ekor. My very being is improper. No one looks at me and thinks to themselves 'now there is a proper man'. If you're looking for something proper then... you will not find it with me, I'm afraid. But it appears to me that you enjoyed yourself... as did I... so very much. You made me feel...”

The word 'cherished' came to mind. Then maybe even 'loved' but that must be too much. He gazed at Ekor, eyes still wet, wanting so badly for him to understand that no partner had ever shown him a fraction of the respect and affection that had been poured out upon him tonight. It was much that Kelas thought he might drown--but what a wonderful thing in which to drown.

"Cared for," Kelas decided.

He couldn't make the assumption that Ekor cherished or treasured him. But the care in every action Ekor had taken had been so obvious. It was nothing that Kelas could have read into his interactions because he had truly not expected to find that someone who wanted to fuck him would also--could also--care for his well-being, his satisfaction, his comfort, his needs and desires just as well as his own.

He stroked a bit of Ekor's hair fondly and allowed himself to stop speaking.