Savor

by Forest


Disclaimer: Voltron is the property of WEP.


He knew he should be tired, knew he should be drifting off like the man in his arms, but he couldn't keep he delighted smile from his face, couldn't let his mind settle into the numbness of sleep. People wondered. He knew they did. Wondered what kept them together, what had brought them together in the first place. Wondered -- and it sounded arrogant but was not -- why Sven, with his sleek, aristocratic looks and tastes, would be attracted to Hunk. Not that Hunk was unattractive, of course, but with his bluff features and the heavy slabs of muscle Sven could not help but liken to a powerful grizzly bear, he hardly seemed the proper type.

The answer was simple enough, really. And the most obvious thing in the world to anyone. Hunk loved food. Well, perhaps that was stating it a bit too simply. But Sven could see, long before he'd started his pursuit of his fellow pilot, the relish with which Hunk lived, and it was easiest to put it into terms of food.

Food and sex. Basic. Elemental, really. One a necessity, the other the most powerful urge Nature instilled. And universal. Everything from the lowest life form ate and screwed. But people, people took those basic drives and made them so much more, made them something complex and beautiful. Food and sex. So revealing if you would only look. So he thought of their relationship in those terms, because only something so elemental could possibly encompass the near- infinity they shared.

/Filet Mignon with Avocado/. In Sven's element, and so where they started. Smooth, graceful touches and careful homage paid to every inch of each others' skin. Slow, deep passion and stifled moans, and hands that trembled at the last. And any connoisseur would be satisfied, plump and indulgent. Any connoisseur at all. But Hunk went beyond that, because Hunk loved food, an entirely different thing altogether.

/Corn Dogs and Cotton Candy/. The antithesis of Filet. His smile twitched and eyes sparkled remembering. Playful, laughing whispers, and Hunk's mouth just above his, as if he was about to be kissed, but at the last moment Hunk ducked his head mischievously. The black hair falling forward over his face tickled Sven's nose, and Hunk gleefully shook his head, feather-tickles and laughter. And Sven had laughed. One of the few times in his life he remembered laughing like that, unconstrained and real, not his usual muffled chuckle or quiet smile.

/Shatteringly Delicate Pastry/. They'd been lying on their sides facing each other, hands roaming possessively, legs entangled, creating tormenting friction. And as a heated kiss ended, Hunk had brought one hand up and touched Sven's face so lightly... everything stopped. Motion, thought, the beating of his heart and the spinning of the world. All of it. Their eyes met and so much was found in the silent communion that they simply held it, breathing each other's air, until lids began to blink in reluctant heavy bidding and sleep claimed them, still entwined.

A million other dishes, served and consumed and... this was the important part... savored. Experienced in a way few ever did.

And there was tonight. The reason his smiles would not let him join his lover in sleep. Tonight had been... Cajun. Spicy and wildly experimental, bright colors not masking an utterly dangerous deep, slow burn. That wouldn't have kept him awake though. It was the sliver of mango Hunk had slid over his tongue at the last, when they were sweat-slicked and exhausted, and Sven's muscles quivered against Hunk's bulk. And Hunk had found a grin somewhere in the fiery residue as he flashed his lover a lascivious look. "You know, I never knew a spoon could be used that way." And Hunk slid quickly into sleep, leaving Sven to savor that cool, mango flash of humor, and reflect on how right it was, how it had changed the flavor of the whole meal.

People wondered. Wondered why they were together. The answer was easy, but you couldn't explain it to anyone who didn't understand the way the skin of a grape gave, just slightly, between sharp teeth before bursting and flooding the tongue with nectar.


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