Jensen watching the sharp blue line of the horizon from underneath a crimson silk canopy, atop the gold stone walls of Troy. The heat of summer's sun warming the freckled skin of his toned biceps, knowing with every breath he takes, that Jared is out there, sailing the Aegean ahead of his armada; wind whipping back silken strands of long hair, sun scorching bronze armlets into the honeyed muscles of arms that will claim Jensen before sun's rest two days forth. So Jensen waits; waits for the man whose scent, whose taste, whose strength, possesses his dreams and haunts his soul with a craving that burns like fire...
no subject
Jensen watching the sharp blue line of the horizon from underneath a crimson silk canopy, atop the gold stone walls of Troy. The heat of summer's sun warming the freckled skin of his toned biceps, knowing with every breath he takes, that Jared is out there, sailing the Aegean ahead of his armada; wind whipping back silken strands of long hair, sun scorching bronze armlets into the honeyed muscles of arms that will claim Jensen before sun's rest two days forth. So Jensen waits; waits for the man whose scent, whose taste, whose strength, possesses his dreams and haunts his soul with a craving that burns like fire...