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Silence Of The Dark'Of all days to get mad at him!' Thomas Bangalter thought bitterly at himself as he stood in his and Guy-Manuel's apartment building. Dishes were top sided and everything was in a complete wreak...
An earthquake, rare, had somehow happened in the outskirts of Paris. And of course when the earthquake had begun, Thomas and his lover (Guy-Manuel) had had a quarrel. Which, of course, resulted in Guy running away (again).
Usually when they fought, Thomas didn't care where Guy ran to, because his lover always found his way back, late at night, and they would usually apologize and have make-up sex or whatever.
But this time... When the ground began to rumble and shake...
'Damn! Where's Guy? God, I hope he's okay.' Thomas thought worriedly, making sure the aftershocks were gone before heading out of his apartment and heading in the direction of their record studio.
Many buildings were collapsed, and Thomas was very lucky that his was still standing, only swaying slightly.
As he neared the reco
One Cut ShorterI yawn; stretching back and lean back against the leather couch. Guy-Manuel taps his foot before leaning into me, and pulling my arm off the back of the couch and wrapping it around him.
I smile and move my thumb against his shoulder blade and try to stifle a gasp...
Guy's completely tense... more so than ever. I rub at the sore spot and feel him moan, before shooting up-right; must've hit a nerve.
As I'm about to propose that Guy should go back to the hotel, the double doors open and both Guy and me scoot as far away from each other as to not look so... together like.
Hushed excited voices began and I roll my eyes as I hear them: "Oh my God! I cannot believe we get to interview Daft Punk!"
A young man and woman suddenly appeared, and they threw themselves into the couch across from ours.
"So..." The woman begins, "You're Daft Punk, and I'm so glad..." The woman is cut off by Guy-Manuel, "No shit we're Daft Punk. Last time I checked..."
I turn and stare at Guy speechless, as
You Are YouThomas smiled warmly as he gazed at his lover - spent, but otherwise faintly smiling back at him. Guy-Manuel shook, his eyes locking with Thomas's, sweat trickling down his neck; his hands situated near Thomas's shoulders, helping the elder keep his balance as he lay on top of the younger.
"You're beautiful, Guy," Thomas whispered, lifting up and kissing both of Guy's cheeks. Leaning back down, Thomas chuckled as he saw the elder man's cheeks tinge pink.
Guy smiled even more, and he leaned his face down to kiss his friend, which Thomas happily obliged. The kiss wasn't rushed, and both seemed to sigh into the other's mouth.
Pulling apart for air, Thomas felt something tickling the corner of his mouth. He quickly caught the object and instantly tugged it away from his mouth.
"Ow!" Guy yelped.
Thomas blinked sheepishly as he realized the object was really a strand of Guy's hair that must have fallen on him when they had kissed.
Guy-Manuel sat up; his knees bent ar
3 Dafty SlashnessTitle: The Gentle Morning
A warm, yet gentle breeze blew its way into the room; rattling the blinds. Thomas Bangalter groaned at the disruption of his dream, and wearily cracked open an eye.
Bright sunlight poured around him, and Thomas quickly closed his eyes, momentarily, before letting them get adjusted. He shifted closer to what he thought was a person, but was amazed at how there was an empty space beside him.
Pulling his self up, Thomas quickly scanned the room and breathed a sigh of relief as he saw Guy-Manuel sitting on the corner of the bed they shared.
Thomas watched as Guy held a cigarette out and was about to light it with his lighter.
"Do you really need to be smoking this early in the morning, Guy?" Thomas asked out loud; making the shorter man drop his lighter and turn towards his young lover.
"Actually yes. I do need to be smoking at this hour, Thomas," Guy responded, bending down and was almost about to pick up his fallen lighter, when Thomas snuck forward and grabbed
hey newton, gravity's flawedi.
starting anew from the flutter
and the sputter of lungs.
a vacant sea filled with feathers
and tumultuous clatter,
ribs in a treacherous pattern
resembling exiting rungs.
i want to wrestle the angels,
your tendency is the ladder.
involved with full indiscretion,
trading lazy for lace.
unspool the curse of the long-
limbs in a languorous flexion
i like the stab of the ankles,
you need the curves intersected.
opting to cull my extents
with trans-dimensional vigor.
spent my dysphoric corrections
on reconnecting lax ends.
lips in a spurious accent
feign a passionate rigor.
i tie myself to the anchor,
you extricate and ascend.
5:20i went to the forest
to purify my lungs
then i saw the thick
three letter scar
i left in a slender
birch, and wondered how
i could let you poison
another living thing.
moths aren't afraid of pins
till they're stuck to a piece of styrofoam.
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