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Moon Dance

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Up, out, and above, the waning moon was shining brightly out from behind the dark clouds that threatened to envelope it. From where I sat, up here in the attic of one of those abandoned buildings we always managed to squat in, my view of the moon was obscured slightly by the yellowing leaves of a large tree. I don't know what type of tree it was – just that it was large, and moulting, the slightest breath of wind tugging its rustling cloths from its outstretched arms.

I was sketching.

And for once – it wasn't a map.

I was sitting, cross-legged, in what used to be a bay window. The glass had long since been broken and replaced by strips of old, thin wood, but not very well – there were still gaps, gaps large enough to allow me to be able to see outside. Above, also, there were gaps in the slanted roof – the moon's reflected light waltzing down through the holes, giving me enough light to see my paper by.

I didn't usually use charcoal – mainly because the fact that it smudged so easily made it fairly ineffective to draw accurate maps with – however, at the moment, it was doing as I wanted it to do. I can't say I'm the most talented of artists – truthfully, I'm not – but for some reason, every stroke I made felt right.

Though I was drawing, I couldn't see what I was drawing. I just let my hands do what they wanted, sketching what they felt like. This form of passive drawing, strangely enough, required quite a lot of effort and concentration - and so I put every bit of my mind into my hand.

I was so distracted by my concentration that I didn't even sense him until he had wrapped his large, warm arms around my neck.

"You are so beautiful when you're concentrating…" came his soft whisper, his breath warm on my neck.

My charcoal stopped.

I smiled, closing my eyes and breathing him in as he sat down beside me, his arms still wrapped around my shoulders.

"What are you drawing?" He asked softly, pressing his lips to my neck. I purred.

"That tickles," I whispered. He chuckled, rubbing his nose lightly on my neck now, causing me to shiver in pleasure.

"What are you drawing?" He asked again in that same, soft, low voice. I cracked open an eye, moving my hands slightly so that he could see the paper better.

"I'm not entirely sure myself…" I stopped, and smiled as I recognised what it was I had drawn.

I could hear the smile on his voice.

"It's…"

"You," I finished for him.

Indeed it was – brief snatches of him, his smiling, scarred face in one corner, his spread-eagled sleeping form in the opposite. In the middle was a half-shot of him, his large, scarred chest bare, the expression on his face unreadable.

"Kurda…" He said softly, reaching his large hands forward, as if to stroke the page. He stopped midway, and instead, stroked my fingers, his touch loving. I smiled, his breathe delightfully warm on my neck.

And then, quite suddenly, his hand gripped mine, and he was pulling me to my feet, my papers and charcoal falling to the wooden floor with a soft clatter.

"Gavner…!" I managed to gasp. He had one hand at the small of my back, and, using that one, pressed my body against his own. His other hand held one of mine above my head, holding me trapped. He smiled – then, slowly, pressed his lips against mine in one of those sweet, lingering kisses that I loved so. There was just something about them – so full, yet so light, that teasing tongue bringing promises of more to come. I could have melted in his arms then and there – but then he broke the kiss, much to my disappointment, his eyes glimmering with mischief.

"Dance with me," Gavner whispered quietly.

I smiled.

"But we have no music."

"We'll make our own."

It was a slow dance, our bodies so close together that it was almost as if we were one and the same, moving in a way that was… complete. Funnily enough, it was Gavner who lead– despite his apparent gruffness, he knew how to dance.

And he could dance well.

Our bodies swayed in unison to a silent tune. Resting my head on his chest, I could feel his warmth, I could hear his heart beat. I loved this position – pressed again him, so strong and firm and warm, knowing that every beat of his heart was filled with love and life.

"Can I just have one more moon dance with you, my love? Can I just make some more romance with you, my love?" I heard him sing softly under his breath.

Smile.

Nuzzle closer.

It was at times like these where I forget everything.

There was no world around us.

There was just Gavner and myself.

Dancing under the light of the moon.

Everything else was nothing…

Even that dark, ominous future that I knew was ahead was no longer real to me…

"Well I wanna make love to you tonight, I can't wait till the morning has come… and I know that the time is just right, and straight into my arms you will run…" He was still singing. I loved it when he sang. Though not entirely in-tune, it was a warm, deep voice, so low and reassuring.

I couldn't help but smile once more.

"Do you really want to…?" I asked, unintentionally making my voice huskier than usual. He ran his hand down my back lightly, sending delicious shivers throughout my body.

"You know I want to," he whispered into my ear, planting a soft kiss on my neck, then gifted me with another of those enchanting kisses of his that always left me breathless. He had backed me up against the wall now, the rough wood pressing against my back.

"Where are the others?" I breathed. Resting his forehead on mine, he closed his eyes; his hands slipping up the back of my loose shirt and onto my cold skin.

"Downstairs, asleep."

"Good."

Another kiss – longer than before, more desperate, his tongue and hands exploring their respective areas equally. I pressed my body against him, wrapping my arms around his neck as I drowned in his touch, wanting him so badly…

He broke away.

Again, we were both breathless.

"Take me," I whispered. "I'm yours."

"Forever?"

"Forever."

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A.N …taa daa!

…Bleh. Fluffiness. Damn Jeremy and his tales of adventure. And… Damn Michael Buble too. I like this song too much.-wanders off singing 'Moon Dance'-