"I want all the k's"
stars burn, blazing hot, impossibly bright. especially when they collide. ripple effects happen then, blazing embers of cosmic dust spread through the stars and galaxies. stars are so full of life that they hurt sometimes, threaten to explode and leave their defined gravity.
when you kiss him on his throat, you are rewarded with a moan of pleasure. when you kiss him on his collarbone, you are rewarded with a content sigh. when you kiss his hip, you are rewarded with the fact that you are his and he is yours.
(sometimes you don’t believe it so, don’t believe that such a thing was possible.)
when you kiss him on the lips, you forget that. instead you remember that this is real and happening. you touch him reverently, every muscle, every bone. the touches are grounding, at opposites of the vast space that you both operate, live in.
stars were never meant to be solitary. planets gather, asteroids revolve, whole systems form around them. stars, too, merged sometimes. become one.
but stars also rest, stars end.
your hands find purchase in his hair when it happens, soft and calming, and you press a kiss on the crown of his head, and you feel every fibre of his hair against your sensitive lips.
you rest your head against his, foreheads touching and lips a breath from each other, a smile as blinding as the stars themselves gracing your face. mingled breaths are exchanged and you press your lips to his one last time.
“goodnight peter.”