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Title: Scars
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Martin Škrtel/Daniel Agger
Word Count: ~400
Disclaimer: Complete fabrication and nonsense.
A/N: There's no specific structure to this; it's just a moment. For my darling Anna, as always ♥
Dan always woke first, awakened slowly by the gentle snores of the man sleeping so peacefully beside him. His own peace beautifully interrupted by the warm arm that was suddenly flung over his stomach as his lover shifted in his sleep.
Long fingers splayed across his belly twitching as Dan blew gently on them, a smile tugging the corners of his mouth at the fierce resistance Martin had to waking up in the morning. Each beautifully formed finger with well defined bone and ghostly skin stretched across knuckle. Fingers he would take each in turn, savour them deliciously with his teeth scraping gently along the underside along the pads of Martin’s fingertips where the salty taste of himself still lingered.
The tiniest scar at the base of his thumb was the only flaw. The raised skin, if possible a shade lighter than the skin around it, was fascinating to Dan. The faintest of blue veins traced directly below and Dan rubbed his finger along it to the crook of Martin’s elbow where it was lost. He didn't know what or where the scar was from and he’d never asked, knowing that Martin would probably not be able to remember anyway. Just an old battle scar. They all had them. He kissed it gently feeling the smallest bump with his tongue.
Martin, irritable in sleep moved his hand away and turned to lie on his back, sheets tangled around his waist and his belly tight as he stretched, sheet dropping just low enough for Dan to be able to run his finger through newly revealed pubic hair. Martin had scars on his hips, across his stomach, on his waist. Tiny, unnoticeable to anyone but Dan. Many of them Dan had inflicted himself: from his nails digging in hard as Martin fucked him, from gripping Martin’s waist the few times he had claimed the Slovak in the ways he was so often claimed himself. Others Dan didn't want to know the history of and didn’t need to know the history of. He felt no guilt, he carried the same brandings.
He pressed his nose to Martin's armpit as he stretched beside him; the pungent smell of mornings delicious to him. Thick hairs tickling his cheek as he nuzzled against him not able to resist the slightest nip to the softest of skin.
He reached across to touch the newest lines which marked Martin’s skin. Still the tiniest flakes of skin and dried ink flicked off as Dan traced his finger along the still healing lines. He'd asked Martin once, over a dozen glasses of whiskey and a hundred drunken kisses, if his tattoos had any meaning. Martin had smiled and kissed him sloppily on the side of the mouth, 'Just scars, baby, just beautiful scars.'
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Martin Škrtel/Daniel Agger
Word Count: ~400
Disclaimer: Complete fabrication and nonsense.
A/N: There's no specific structure to this; it's just a moment. For my darling Anna, as always ♥
Dan always woke first, awakened slowly by the gentle snores of the man sleeping so peacefully beside him. His own peace beautifully interrupted by the warm arm that was suddenly flung over his stomach as his lover shifted in his sleep.
Long fingers splayed across his belly twitching as Dan blew gently on them, a smile tugging the corners of his mouth at the fierce resistance Martin had to waking up in the morning. Each beautifully formed finger with well defined bone and ghostly skin stretched across knuckle. Fingers he would take each in turn, savour them deliciously with his teeth scraping gently along the underside along the pads of Martin’s fingertips where the salty taste of himself still lingered.
The tiniest scar at the base of his thumb was the only flaw. The raised skin, if possible a shade lighter than the skin around it, was fascinating to Dan. The faintest of blue veins traced directly below and Dan rubbed his finger along it to the crook of Martin’s elbow where it was lost. He didn't know what or where the scar was from and he’d never asked, knowing that Martin would probably not be able to remember anyway. Just an old battle scar. They all had them. He kissed it gently feeling the smallest bump with his tongue.
Martin, irritable in sleep moved his hand away and turned to lie on his back, sheets tangled around his waist and his belly tight as he stretched, sheet dropping just low enough for Dan to be able to run his finger through newly revealed pubic hair. Martin had scars on his hips, across his stomach, on his waist. Tiny, unnoticeable to anyone but Dan. Many of them Dan had inflicted himself: from his nails digging in hard as Martin fucked him, from gripping Martin’s waist the few times he had claimed the Slovak in the ways he was so often claimed himself. Others Dan didn't want to know the history of and didn’t need to know the history of. He felt no guilt, he carried the same brandings.
He pressed his nose to Martin's armpit as he stretched beside him; the pungent smell of mornings delicious to him. Thick hairs tickling his cheek as he nuzzled against him not able to resist the slightest nip to the softest of skin.
He reached across to touch the newest lines which marked Martin’s skin. Still the tiniest flakes of skin and dried ink flicked off as Dan traced his finger along the still healing lines. He'd asked Martin once, over a dozen glasses of whiskey and a hundred drunken kisses, if his tattoos had any meaning. Martin had smiled and kissed him sloppily on the side of the mouth, 'Just scars, baby, just beautiful scars.'
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a willing bitchXDmmm, papi's going to show LJ some hot loving
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yumyumyum, ohhh so excited about writing this one. no idea what the WC is just now but its pretty epic thus far and we've barely started!
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