Ben couldn't remember a time in his life when he was more content. It was a Saturday morning and he was still in bed, spooned behind his sleeping lover. He took advantage of the quiet time to savour every sensation. From the way Michael smelled; the Pantene he used in his hair, mixed with the sweat and musk that emanated from his skin, a testament to the energetic sex they'd shared the night before, to the feel of his warm muscular rump, snuggled tightly into his groin.
Last night had been amazing. They'd made love for hours, keeping each other aroused, vibrating with sexual energies, by sharing their innermost sexual fantasies. Ben smiled. One fantasy in particular came to mind. One that had sent them into fits of laughter, and that he would be only too happy to fulfil for the man he loved. Tonight, he'd show Michael just how much of a bear he could be!
Yabba dabba dooo!
His smile slowly faded as he remembered another fantasy. One that he hadn't shared with Michael. Voicing it would have ruined the mood, rather than enhanced it. Not that it was a particularly kinky fantasy. No whips or chains. No toys, or costumes. No group sex or voyeurism.
Just sickness and pain.
To make love without any barriers. No thin layer of latex stopping him from filling Michael over and over again with his seed. To wake up the next day, still buried balls deep in his lover's tight ass. To never have to worry about keeping a supply of condoms strategically hidden throughout the apartment, or in his wallet. To never have to reach for another rubber again.
There could only be two possible outcomes for this fantasy to become a reality. One, for a cure to be found. To be freed from this virus that shadowed his life.
The other?
His arms tightened around the smaller man protectively, causing Michael to shift a little in his sleep, murmuring a sleepy complaint. If he were to ever infect this precious man in his arms...he'd die.
Michael was his centre. His calm. The beauty in his life. He couldn't bare the thought of destroying that beauty. Tainting him with this ugly and uncaring virus.
Unknowingly, his arms tightened even further, finally drawing Michael from his comforting world of sleep.
"Ben?" Michael mumbled, more asleep than awake.
Ben tried to chase the darkness away before answering, knowing how sensitive Michael was to his moods. Even going so far as to picture Michael's Fred Flintstone fantasy in his mind. It helped, but only a little. Hoping that his voice wouldn't crack, he responded, "What is it, Baby?"
Michael sluggishly turned in Ben's arms until he was facing the larger man. Rubbing sleep from his eyes, he stared into Ben's blue eyes for several heartbeats.
"Are you okay?" Michael finally asked.
Ben opened his mouth to make some kind of glib reply, but instead he found himself becoming lost in warm brown orbs. Drowning in a sea of chocolate.
Reaching out, Michael began rubbing slow comforting circles along his arm. "Hey."
"Hmm?"
"Live in the now, remember?"
Was he really that easy to read? Blinking a few times, Ben tore his gaze from those mesmerising eyes, and pulled back a little, taking in Michael's whole face. Michael simply smiled and continued rubbing slow lazy circles along his skin.
Michael was right. Again. For now, he was a HIV positive man, in love with a negative man. And he was going to do everything in his power to ensure that his lover remained negative. Leaning down he kissed Michael on the lips, feeling a warm tingling sensation when Michael brought his arms up around his neck, returning the kiss wholeheartedly.
For just a second Ben allowed his thoughts to travel into the future. One day there would be a cure, and then he'd share his fantasy with Michael, and they'd spend the rest of their lives, together, making his fantasy a daily reality.